dainty implements, and looked into the empty space beneath, "why, where
is my petticoat? Somebody has gone and taken it out. Mamma, did you
take it?"
"No, dear, I have not touched it," said Mrs. Norris. "Did you put it
away yesterday?"
"Yes, mamma, you know I always put it in here. I'll ask Nora;" and
away ran Lily to the nursery.
"Nora, did you take my orphan petticoat out of my work-box?" she asked.
"No, indeed, dear; and why would I touch it, unless you wanted some
help with it?" answered Nora.
Back went Lily to her mamma's room, troubled and indignant.
"Mamma, some one has taken it. I never knew any thing so mean. Nora
don't know any thing about it."
"Who would take it, Lily? I certainly did not, and you say Nora did
not. Papa or Tom could have no reason for touching it. I will tell you
what I think."
"What mamma?" asked Lily, anxiously.
"That you could not have put it away yesterday when you stopped sewing
upon it. Think a moment, my daughter; can you distinctly recollect
putting it away in your box?"
Lily stood considering one moment; then dismay and shame gradually
overspread her face.
"No, mamma, I just believe I did not. When I was going to put away my
petticoat in the box, I heard papa come in, and I wanted to know why
he had come home so early; so I thought I would just wait one moment,
and put it away when I had asked him, and I dropped it on the floor and
ran to papa. And you know he had come to take us to see those pictures,
and I never thought another thing about the petticoat. I quite forgot
I had not put it away when I told you I had. I will go and look in the
sitting-room where I was sewing yesterday."
But her search proved fruitless, although she certainly did look
thoroughly through every part of the room. Nora was called, and took
her part, but all in vain; and at last mamma came. Mrs. Norris rather
felt that she should let Lily be at all the trouble of finding the
petticoat for herself; but the child seemed so grieved that she could
not bear to punish her in that way. But mamma was not more successful
than her little daughter and the nurse had been, although in the end
every servant was questioned, and every room searched.
"It is very strange. Are you quite sure you have not seen it, Hannah?"
asked Mrs. Norris of her chambermaid, a rather dull girl, who had been
but a short time in the house. "Have you seen nothing of the kind lying
about in the sitting-room, or did you not touch Miss Lily's box?"
"Miss Lily's harnsum box, is it, ma'am? Sure, and I did see that a
sittin' on the floor, where I thought you'd not be plased to see it at
all at all, so I just lifted it to the table where I seen it sittin'
before; but ne'er a thing I seen beside it. It wouldn't be Miss Lily's
work what I found the puppy a pullin' round the ary, ma'am,--the
mischavous baste that he is, my heart's most broke with him,--an' I
didn't take heed what it was, but seein' it that dirty, I just put it
in the basket with the siled clothes."
Away went Lily, Nora after her; and, sure enough, the latter soon
fished out the unfortunate little petticoat from the soiled-clothes
basket. Now, indeed, Lily was distressed, and cried bitterly, for
the thing was in no state to be touched until it had been washed. It
was easy to imagine how it had happened. The puppy, who was growing
very mischievous, and who, like many another young thing, was fond of
a forbidden plaything, had probably found the petticoat lying where
Lily had heedlessly dropped it upon the floor; and, watching his
opportunity, had dragged it from the room, down stairs, and out into
the back area, where Hannah had rescued it, happily before it was torn
and chewed to bits, but not before it was sadly blackened and soiled.
"Now don't you cry, honey Miss Lily, and I'll just wash it right out
for you, and have it back as clane as a new pin," said the good-natured
Hannah. "If I'd known it yesterday, sure I'd a done it then; but niver
a wurd did I think of its bein' your work, and it in that state. Och,
what a crathur it is, that botherin' little baste!" she added, as she
went off with the melancholy looking petticoat in her hand.
[Illustration: Lily Norris. p. 174.]
"Will she have it washed and dried and ironed in time for me to finish
it before the children come, mamma?" asked the sobbing Lily, burying
her head in her mother's lap.
"I am afraid not, dear," answered her mother, with a tender, pitying
touch upon the thoughtless little head which brought so much trouble
upon itself, "so much time has been lost in hunting for your work, and
it is now nearly eleven o'clock."
"If I'd only gone to my sewing at first as you advised me, then I'd
have found out sooner what that horrid little old hateful puppy had
done, and Hannah might have washed the petticoat for me in time,"
moaned Lily. "I wish Tom never had the puppy."
"I do not think we must blame the puppy, my darling," said her mamma.
"He only acted according to his nature; and he found the skirt, you
know, where it should not have been."
"Yes," said Lily, "poor little cunning fellow; it wasn't his fault.
It was all horrid old me, with my putting off that I never shall cure
myself of; no, never, never. It is too mean that I cannot finish that
tiresome petticoat this morning."
"Happily, dear, the consequences of your fault are not yet without
remedy, and you may still make up for lost time, unless something
should happen which we do not foresee; but you have only this one more
chance, Lily. Take care that you do not neglect it, or be tempted to
procrastinate again."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER X.
_SATURDAY AFTERNOON'S PLAY._
Mrs. Norris was right; for although Hannah did her best, she found it
impossible to have the petticoat dry enough to iron so that Lily might
have some time to sew upon it before her young friends arrived.
As soon as she had at all recovered her spirits, the little girl
relieved her mind in some degree by making frequent rushes to the head
of the back stairs to see if Hannah were coming with the petticoat; and
once she persuaded her mother to let her go to the laundry that she
might "be encouraged by seeing how much Hannah had done."
But she did not receive much encouragement from the sight of the still
dripping garment, which Hannah had hung before the fire that it might
dry the more quickly. Hannah took a cheerful view of the subject,
saying she would have it ready very soon, and there was "lots of
time afore Tuesday mornin'." But Lily was at last learning the folly
of believing in "lots of time" to come; and she shook her head in a
melancholy manner, and bade Hannah "take a lesson of her misfortunes,
and never procrastinate."
She returned to the nursery in a very low state of mind, when Nora told
her she would dress her at once if she chose, so that if she had any
time to spare she might employ it on the skirt when it was dry.
Lily gratefully accepted the offer, but it proved of no use as far as
the petticoat was concerned, for she had bade her little friends to "be
sure and come by twelve o'clock," and her mamma having seconded the
invitation, they had been allowed to do so; and soon after twelve,
Maggie, Bessie, Belle, and Mabel arrived, just as Hannah brought up the
petticoat, fairly smoking from her hot irons, and five minutes after,
the rest of the young party made their appearance.
The clouds passed from Lily's face and mind at the sight of all these
"sunbeams," and, consoling herself with the recollection that after all
she still had Monday afternoon, she was presently as merry and full of
spirits as usual.
Happily not one of the other children thought of asking her if the
petticoat were finished, so that she was spared the mortification of
confessing that it was not.
It was proposed that they should all amuse themselves downstairs until
the early dinner, which had been ordered for them at one o'clock; after
which they would go to the grand play-room in the attic, Maggie having
provided herself with some fresh proverbs and charades, which they were
to play.
"Harry and Fred are coming over this afternoon, and we want to make a
ship in the lumber-room. You won't mind, will you?" asked Tom, who was
taking his lunch at the little girls' dinner.
Doubtful looks were exchanged between some of them. Maggie's looks were
not at all doubtful; her face was one of blank dismay at the proposal.
Playing charades and proverbs was all very well when there were only
those of her own age to look on; doing it before these big boys was
quite another thing.
"Not if you don't like it, Maggie," said Tom, noticing her annoyance;
"but we wouldn't disturb you, and anyhow I am sure you need not
mind having us see you. We'll be busy at the carpenter's bench and
tool-chest, and you need not heed us if we do see."
"I'm--I'm afraid you'll--you'll laugh at us," hesitated Maggie,
coloring.
"If we laugh, it will be with you, not at you," said Tom. "But never
mind; if you don't like it, we'll keep out of your way."
Then Maggie felt self-reproached, and, like the generous little girl
she was, determined that her bashfulness should not get the upper hand
of her readiness to oblige.
"I don't mind it so very much," she said; "at least I'll try not to,
and you can come if the others say so. I suppose you won't take notice
of us if you are building a ship, would you, Tom?" she added wistfully.
"No one shall disturb or trouble you in any way, you may believe that,"
said Tom; and Maggie knew that he would keep his word, and so declared
her willingness that the boys should share the privileges of the
lumber-room.
Away to the attic scampered the seven pairs of little feet the moment
dinner was over; and Nora, following, opened the trunks for them, then
left them to their own devices. That is to say, she brought her sewing,
and went to sit in one of the rooms which opened out of the great
gallery, where she might be within call if the children needed her,
and at hand to keep them from mischief. That she provided for her own
amusement by leaving the door so that she could see and hear, none of
them, not even shy Maggie, noticed or cared.
Maggie of course was always chief spirit and prime manager of these
entertainments; and she now divided the party, taking Belle and Nellie
with herself as performers in the first charade, and assigning the part
of spectators to Bessie, Lily, Carrie, and Mabel.
The audience speedily accommodated themselves and their children--that
is their dolls--with seats upon the top of the bins, scrambling thereto
by the help of chairs, and amusing themselves with lively conversation
while waiting.
Maggie and Nellie brought forth from the store-room a small table and
three chairs, which were suitably placed; Sir Percy was brought from
his place of repose and laid upon the floor beside them; after which
the young ladies retired again into privacy.
"The charade has begun, and Sir Percy is a great big dog this time,"
said Maggie, suddenly popping out her head once more, and then
withdrawing it.
After some moments she reappeared, this time gorgeously arrayed in a
flowing train, formed of an old red table-cloth, bordered with gold,
a wreath of artificial flowers on her head, ribbons of all colors
pinned and tied about her, and an enormous fan in her hand, with which
she fanned herself affectedly, mincing and prinking as she walked to
a chair, where she seated herself, taking good care to keep her face
turned from Sir Percy, whom she pretended not to observe. The audience
were spell-bound with interest and the wish to guess the word.
"Tell your mistress--er--that er--Madam Jones--er--is here--er,"
drawled the lady, addressing an imaginary servant, closing her eyes as
if quite exhausted, and putting on all the airs and graces conceivable.
Presently entered the hostess, attired with similar magnificence,
but with rather a bluff and off-hand manner, which contrasted very
strikingly with that of her visitor. Meanwhile, from behind the door
of the store-room came a piteous mewing, which soon attracted the
attention of the second lady, who peered about her in great surprise,
and exclaimed,--
"That must be a cat mewing, and I never allow a cat in my house, never!"
"Oh--er," drawled Mrs. Jones, "it is only my sweet pussy, my lovely
_pet_, my only donly _pet_; such a dear _pet_, oh, such! Wouldn't you
like to see her, Mrs. Smith?"
"No, oh, no!" cries Mrs. Smith, lifting up her hands in horror; "I hate
cats, and so does my lovely _pet_, Bombastes Furioso. Here, Bomby,
Bomby, Bomby, come and speak to Mrs. Jones, my darling pet."
Upon which Mrs. Jones affected to see for the first time the great dog
Bombastes Furioso, and to be filled with alarm at the sight.
"Don't call him, pr-r-r-ay, don't!" she cried. "Is it possible that
you like canine dogs, Mrs. Smith? How can you have such a pet? Here,
kitty, kitty, kitty!"
Hereupon entered Belle on all fours, covered with a white flossy mat
which had been brought up from the hall for the purpose, and ran mewing
about her mistress.
"I'd rather like canine dogs than canine cats," wrathfully cries Mrs.
Smith; "and, ma'am, I tell you I won't have cats in my house! S'cat,
s'cat, s'cat!"
"Ma'am," cries Mrs. Jones, indignantly, "if you turn out my _pet_, you
turn out me, and I'll never visit you again, ma'am, nor be acquainted
with you any more. I cut you, ma'am, I cut you!"
"And I cut you, ma'am. Bringing cats in my house, indeed! Here,
Bombastes Furioso, s-s-s-s!" and the indignant and inhospitable Mrs.
Smith tried to urge her dog to seize Mrs. Jones' kitty. Bombastes,
however, being a dog of a lazy turn of mind, contented himself with
deep, hoarse growls whenever Mrs. Jones was speaking. He was silent
when it was necessary for his mistress to speak; and Mrs. Smith found
herself obliged to drag her lumbering pet onwards by his two remaining
hoofs--I beg his pardon, I should have said paws.
This was the sole objection to the accommodating Sir Percy, that he was
so unwieldy and cumbersome to move when circumstances required that he
should do so. This being the case, Mrs. Jones, whose airs and graces
were all put to flight by this attack upon her, had time to scuttle off
with her pet before Bombastes Furioso had advanced more than a step or
two.
This was greeted with shouts of laughter, in which the performers
themselves joined as they disappeared; and after the applause had
subsided, the four heads on the top of the bins set themselves to guess
the word.
"I think it's affected lady," said Carrie.
"I don't. I think it is cat or dog," said Lily. "You know this is only
the first syllable, Carrie, so it couldn't be affected lady."
"Oh, to be sure," said Carrie. "Bessie, what do you think it is?"
"I think it is pet," said Bessie. "Did you not hear how often they said
'pet'? 'Pet' dog and 'pet' cat?"
"Yes, so they did," said Lily. "Bessie, you are right. Oh, isn't it
fun?"
The performers were not long in making their preparations for the
next syllable; and the only change in the outward arrangements was
that various bottles, a saw, some chisels, awls, and other tools were
brought out, and placed upon the table.
"These are doctors' instruments," Maggie explained before retiring.
Presently she reappeared, buttoned up in an overcoat which reached
to her feet, a man's hat coming down over her eyes, a cane in her
hand, and bustled round among the bottles. From this occupation the
doctor was roused by a knock at the door, and there entered two other
overcoated figures, limping and groaning in a distressful manner.
"We've been in a railroad accident, and all our bones are broken,
doctor," piped one of the sufferers.
The unfeeling surgeon hustled them each into a chair, and with great
roughness proceeded to wrap and bandage, tying a great many knots with
much unnecessary vigor, accompanied with shrieks and groans from his
patients.
"Ow--ow--ow, doctor," cried one of them, as the doctor pulled hard upon
a knot in the handkerchief he was tying on a broken arm, "you do hurt
more than any doctor I ever knew. You _tie_ so hard."
"Well," growled the doctor, "when you come to me with two broken arms,
and two broken legs, and a broken back, and your eyes put out, and your
head smashed up, do you expect to be mended without being hurt? Here,
let me _tie_ your head."
The patients, being well _tied_ up, at last departed, followed by the
doctor; and the audience unanimously agreed that _tie_ was the second
syllable.
"Pet--tie," said Bessie. "I just b'lieve it's petticoat."
"So it is," said Carrie; while Lily, recalled to the recollection of
her unfortunate petticoat, was struck dumb by what she considered a
remarkable coincidence.
The performance of the third syllable was not quite as interesting
as the other two had been, the _coats_ which had been worn by the
doctor and his patients being brought out and beaten with sticks with
a great bustle and fuss, but without a single spoken word. After this
it scarcely needed the performance of the whole word to establish the
fact that it was petticoat; but, the chairs and table being removed, it
was gone through with by three young ladies, very much dressed, taking
a walk on a muddy day, and greatly disturbed for the fate of their
petticoats, as they splashed and waded through imaginary pools and
puddles.
"Petticoat! Petticoat! Petticoat!" resounded from the top of the bins,
accompanied by violent clapping and stamping, and other tokens of the
pleasure which had been afforded by the representation.
And now the audience came down from their perch, and resigned it to the
late performers, with whom they were to change parts; at least, Belle
and Nellie were to do so, for Maggie was, as I have said, the moving
spirit, and all the others played under her orders. She was the most
ingenious in choosing and arranging the words, and it was believed that
no charade went off well unless she took part in it.
This arrangement only left two spectators, it is true; but Maggie said
she needed all the others, and no objection was made.
The chairs and table were now brought back to their old places. After
the necessary dressing up had been done, Bessie appeared with a
handkerchief tied over her sunny curls, a white apron coming down to
her feet, and followed by Carrie as a servant, bearing dishes. These--a
doll's dinner set--were arranged upon the table with much noise and
rattle, the little landlady bustling about, and calling upon her maid
to make haste.
"For I keep a very good _inn_, servant," she said; "but when some
people come to _inns_, they make a great fuss, and give a great deal
of trouble; and I heard of a gentleman who is coming to my _inn_, and
he is very cross, and a great scolder, so I don't want to give him any
reason to complain, and we must have every thing very nice in my _inn_."
"Yes, ma'am, we'll have the _inn_ very fine for him," answered the maid.
The fears of the landlady were not unfounded, as it proved; for
presently appeared Sir Percy in the character of a cross old gentleman,
supported and dragged along with much difficulty by his wife and
daughters. He was attired in a man's hat and great-coat, the sleeves
of the latter coming down some distance below his--h'm--hands; but
this was a convenience, as they could be flapped about in wild
gesticulation, as he stormed and scolded at the _in_conveniences of
the _inn_. A more ill-tempered old gentleman was never seen; and a
hard time did his attendants have of it. He laid about him in the most
ferocious manner, and was not to be pacified by all the attentions
that were lavished upon him; until the little landlady declared that
"if that old gentleman was going to stay a great while in her _inn_,
she would not keep an _inn_ any longer."
"Inn, inn," was called, not only from the bins, but also from the
other side of the room, as the old man was at last carried away, still
growling, and wildly slapping the air with his coat-cuffs.
The children turned, and Sir Percy tumbled heavily to the floor, as
Maggie loosened her hold of him, struck dumb by the sight of three
pairs of eyes peering above the side of the staircase.
"Now, that's too bad," cried Lily. "You boys can just go 'way. You'll
laugh at us."
"Indeed, we won't," said Tom. "We came up just a few moments ago, and
we thought we wouldn't interrupt you by passing through, but wait until
you had finished, and that was capitally done. But I'm afraid you'll
hurt yourselves with Sir Percy. He is too heavy for you to lug about,
and Maggie's toes barely escaped just now."
"O Tom!" said Lily; "why, half the fun would be spoiled if we didn't
have Sir Percy."
"Well, be careful then," said Tom, as he passed on with Harry into the
store-room.
But Fred lingered.
"I say, Midge," he said, "let a fellow stay and see the rest of your
charade, will you? It's jolly."
Maggie looked blank, but all she said was, "O Fred!"
"No, you can't," said Lily, unmindful of the duties of hospitality in
her own attic; "you just can't, 'cause you'll laugh, and make fun of
us."
"Now come on, Fred, and let them alone," called Tom from within the
room. "I promised them they should not be teased if we came up here."
"I'm not going to tease them," said Fred. "I want to see the charade,
really and truly. The little chaps do it first-rate, and I like it.
Let me stay, girls."
Maggie and Bessie, especially the latter, had strong objections to
being called "chaps," but Fred never could remember that. However, they
passed it by; and Fred won a rather reluctant consent to his remaining
as a spectator. He was put upon his good behavior, and with a run and a
jump speedily landed himself beside Belle and Carrie, where he kept his
word, and conducted himself as a well-behaved spectator should do.
The next syllable presented a lady writing, her maid sewing. In rushes
a gardener, tree in hand, represented by a large feather dust-brush;
and with much Irish brogue and great excitement, accuses the lady's son
of cutting down a young peach-tree. Son denies, and is believed by his
mother, who sternly tells the gardener that her son has never told a
lie, and whatever he says is "_true_, _true_, _true_."
Gardener declares that "indade, an' he is thrue; an' if the missis will
but make Master George Washington hould up the hand that's behint him,
she'll see the hatchet he did it with."
Mother demands the hatchet, son rebels, still keeping his hand behind
him, but mother, chasing round and round, presently discovers it;
whereupon she clasps her hands frantically, cries she thought he was
_true_, falls fainting to the ground, and is carried off by son,
gardener, and maid.
This new version of an old and familiar story was received with
tremendous applause, to which Fred's boots added not a little.
Next appeared Sir Percy once more, this time without any outward
adornments. He was laid upon the floor, and in his mouth was thrust
a pointed stick, bearing a paper, on which was written in Maggie's
largest, roundest hand, these words:--
"This is a disagreeable smelling dead cat."
About and around the dead cat walked five young ladies, uttering
exclamations of disgust, wondering where the smell could come from,
but strangely blind to the offensive animal which lay before them.
"Ow! how horrid!" cried one.
"Ugh! disgusting!" exclaimed another.
"What an awful smell!" said the third.
"Ugh! it's that dead cat!" said the fourth. "Let's _shun_ it, let's
_shun_ it!"
And with loud cries of "_Shun_ it, _shun_ it," the five young ladies
scamper into the store-room, from which the sound of smothered laughter
had now and then mingled with the public applause without.
It was not difficult now to guess the word; nevertheless the whole
charade must be played out before it was even hinted at to the
performers.
"In-tru-sion," was carried out by two of the aforesaid young ladies,
who rang violently at a front-door bell, and were denied admittance by
a dainty, little sunny-haired maid, who declared that her mistress was
very much engaged.
The visitors persisted in their desire to see her, and forced their
way in, to be fiercely attacked by the indignant lady of the mansion,
who was engaged with her lover, Sir Percy, and who sternly demanded,
"Whence this _intrusion_?"
"No intrusion at all, ma'am," says one of the visitors.
"Yes, _intrusion_, ma'am," replies the hostess; and contradiction
followed free and fast, until stopped by the shouts of "Intrusion!
Intrusion!" from the reserved seats.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
XI.