"He put in his thumb
And pulled out a plum."
So sang Caryl over the stairs.
"Now if HE pulled out a plum, why shouldn't SHE?" she said to herself,
halting a bit by the landing window. "And a good big plum too--nice and
juicy. O Aunt Sylvia, Aunt Sylvia!"
She fairly hugged herself in glee, then drew one long breath and dashed
on to her own poor little room.
"Oh, you here, Viny?" she exclaimed in surprise as she flung open the
door.
A small figure rose to a perpendicular position in front of the old
bureau, while a shoving-to of the under drawer proclaimed some attention
having been paid to the pretty laces, ribbons, and various other
adornments packed away for safe keeping.
Caryl remembered leaving the key in the drawer after taking out a bit of
lavender ribbon the night before for Aunt Sylvia's cap.
"What have you been doing?" she asked sharply; and taking hold of the
small wiry shoulder, she looked down into a little black face whose eyes
were staring solemnly into the farthest corner of the room.
"Ben doin'?" repeated Viny, scared almost to death inwardly, but
preserving a cool exterior. "Nothin', only shettin' the draw'; plaguey
thing wouldn't stay put. Tore my dress," she added mumblingly to fill
out the pause.
"Where?" said Caryl, looking sharply at her.
"Dar," said Viny, with a violent twist, so that she could compass the
back breadths of her blue gingham frock, and she pointed abruptly to a
cat-a-cornered rent.
"Oh, no, you didn't," contradicted Caryl, looking her through and
through, and giving her a small shake, "tear that either; I heard Maum
Patty scold you yesterday for letting Jip bite it and snip out a piece."
"Well, somefin tore," said Viny. "I donno whar 'tis, but it's somewhars.
A mighty smart tare, too, Miss Ca."
"I'll lock, and lock, and lock," declared the young girl, now down on
her knees before her precious drawer, "before I run the chance of your
rummaging fingers getting here again. Now then, Viny!"
"Yes'm," said the little black girl obsequiously, and rolling her eyes
to all quarters; "Oh, yes'm!"
"We are going to move, Viny," said her young mistress, taking the key
out of its lock, and turning her back on drawers and contents, to sit on
the floor with hands folded in her lap while she watched the effect of
her words.
"MOVE?" echoed Viny with a start; "Oh, lawks! whatever's dat, Miss?"
"Why, go to a new place," said Caryl, laughing in spite of herself. "For
mercy's sake, child, do take your eyes in! It'll be very fine, Viny, oh,
so fine!" she cried enthusiastically.
"An' lib here nebber no mo'?" cried the little black figure in a
shrill scream; "wot, an' hev no leaky sink dat keps me a-swashin' and
a-swashin', an' no old ruf dat lets in hull buckets full o' water onter
de bed, an'--"
"No," said Caryl, interrupting the steady stream of invective against
the old heuse, "everything's to be as new and nice and neat as a pin,
Viny--sinks and everything else; you can't begin to think how splendid
it's to be!"
"I'm goin' to tell gramma," cried Viny, wholly off her balance, "dis
berry same minnit. Lawks! but won't she be tickled to leave the ole
shell! Den I'll git my bunnet an' go wid yer, Miss Ca, in tree shakes of
a lobster's whisker!"
She scampered in the greatest excitement to the door, when a detaining
pull on the end of her long apron, brought her to a full stop.
"You are crazy, child!" exclaimed Caryl, bursting into a laugh and
holding her fast. "We can't go this moment, no matter how bad the old
house is. Listen, Viny!"
But the small figure flung itself into a heap on the floor so suddenly
that she nearly pulled her young mistress with her, while the little
black hands clapped themselves over the bead like eyes, wail after wail
of disappointment making the room to ring.
"Will you STOP!" cried Caryl in perfect despair. "Aunt Sylvia's head
will snap with your noise! If you don't stop crying, Viny, you sha'n't
go when the rest of us are ready to move, so there, now."
Threats had the power to do what nothing else could. Viny wiped off all
the tears with the backs of her grimy little paws, gave two or three
concluding sniffs, sat up straight, and was immediately all right for
further developments.
"Now then"--Caryl pointed off her sentences briskly on the tips of her
rosy fingers--"you must try to help--well, an awful great deal, Viny,
yourself, or else it can't be a moving for any single one of us."
Viny's eyes widened fearfully, but she didn't stir.
"If you will take care--mind! SPLENDID care of Aunt Sylvia every
morning," said Caryl slowly and with extreme empressment--"watch and
get her everything she wants, not wait for her to ask for anything, then
I can go off down street and make lots and lots of money, Viny. Think
of that, lots and lots! Then we can move, and Aunt Sylvia will maybe get
well."
Caryl's gray eyes were only a thought less big than those of her small
black audience, who presently caught the infectious enthusiasm and
emitted several lusty crows.
"Jiminy--oh, I DIDN'T say it--I didn't--I didn't! O Jiminy, I didn't--I
didn't--O Jimmy, I--"
"Stop saying it, then," exclaimed her young mistress decidedly, and
enforcing her words by a vigorous shake.
"Oh, I didn't--I will--O Jiminy! yes, I will!" cried the little black
delinquent, the full tide of original sin taking an unfair advantage of
her excitement to engulf her. "Oh--er--oh--er--r--"
Caryl came to her rescue by giving her a new idea.
"See how splendid you can be, Viny dear," she said kindly. "You can be
such a good little helper, so that part of the new home will be of
your getting; for I never could have the chance to earn anything if you
didn't take my place and be Aunt Sylvia's nurse."
"I know how," said Viny, perfectly overcome with the greatness thrust
upon her; "it's to slip crickets under her feet to put her toes onter.
I'll slip 'em all day. An' it's to wipe her specs, an' to say yes, no,
an' to--"
"To be good," finished Caryl solemnly; "that comprehends the whole
business."
"To be good," repeated the small nurse yet more solemnly, "an' to
compren' the whole bus'ness; I will."
"You are a ridiculous child," cried Caryl impatiently; "I don't really
suppose you are fit to be trusted, but then, it's the only thing to
try."
Viny, having been duly elected to office, considered her honors
settled, so she was little disturbed by any opinions that might be held
concerning her. Therefore she squatted and wriggled in great delight,
grinning at every word that fell from her young mistress' lips.
"You see, Viny," Caryl was saying, beginning on her confidence, "I've
got an order to teach the little Grant girls how to paint, and if I can
run down there two hours every morning, I'm to have twenty-five dollars,
and Madam Grant is going to give it to me in advance; that is, after the
first quarter. Think, Viny, TWENTY-FIVE dollars! That's what we want to
move with into Heart's Delight!"
This was the upstairs southwest corner of a little cottage that for a
year or more had been the desideratum of the young girl's highest hopes
that had to wear themselves out in empty longings, the invalid's scanty
exchequer only sufficing for doctor's bills and similar twelvemonth,
along with several other broken-down lodgers whose slender means
compelled them to call this place "home"--this place where never a bit
of sunshine seemed to come; where even the birds hated to stop for a
song as they flew merrily over the tree-tops. And no wonder. The trees
were scraggy, loppy old things hanging down in dismal sweep over the
leaky roof and damp walls. They had to stay--the lodgers, but the birds
and the sunshine tossed off the whole responsibility of life in such a
gloomy old home, and flitted to gayer quarters. But now, what if Heart's
Delight could really be theirs!
"Yer goin' ter tell 'em how to paint dem tings yer daub?" broke in Viny,
and snapping off this delightful thought.
"You shouldn't speak so, child," said Caryl with the greatest dignity;
"it's very fine work, and you couldn't possibly understand it. It's art,
Viny."
"Ho, ho!" laughed the small black figure, nowise impressed and cramming
her stumpy fingers up to her mouth to keep the laugh in as she saw her
young mistress' displeasure. "It's an awful old dirty muss, an' I wish I
could do it," she added under her breath.
"And I shall begin tomorrow," declared Caryl with still greater dignity,
and drawing herself to her full height. "Aunt Sylvia says she'll try
you. Now you'll be good, won't you?" she added anxiously. "It's only for
two hours a day, Viny."
"I'll be good," declared Viny, "'strue's I live an' breeve." Meanwhile
the darkest of plans ran riot in her little black head.
"Heart's Delight--Heart's Delight!" sang Caryl's happy voice all that
day; and like St. Patrick's poor imprisoned snake, she began to feel
that to-morrow would never come.
But hours come and go, and Caryl awoke the next morning, the brightest,
cheeriest morning that ever called a happy girl out of bed.
"Aunt Sylvia won't have many more days in that dark little room of
hers," she cried to herself, throwing on her clothes rapidly. "Oh, dear,
where ARE the pins? I can't bear to wait a minute any more than Viny,
when I think of that dear lovely nest, and the bay-window, and all that
sunshine. I'll always have it full of flowers, and the bird shall sing
all the time, and--and--and--"
The rest was lost in a dash of cold water over the rosy face, and Caryl
soon presented herself at her aunt's bedside.
"I'll do well enough while you are gone," said her aunt, smiling up from
the pillows into the bright face above hers. "Now you're not to worry
about me in the least, for you cannot do justice to yourself if your
mind is troubled. Remember, Caryl, and be thorough in your efforts to
teach your little pupils."
"And Madam Grant is going to buy some of my panels and little plaques,
I almost know," cried Caryl, bustling around for her aunt's long woolen
wrapper and her day slippers, "for she told me she should want to see
them some time. Then, Auntie--oh, then!"
The young girl in her eagerness climbed upon the old bed to lay her
fresh young cheek against the pale thin one. How she longed to put
brightness into the poor invalid's life!
"Remember," said Aunt Sylvia lightly, to hide the tears in her voice,
"your fortune's to be made. Only be prompt and thorough, and put your
whole mind to your work. That is the secret of success."
"I will, Auntie, oh, I WILL!" cried Caryl happily, "and Viny will do
well, I guess," she added, the gleeful tones dropping down with an
anxious note.
"Viny will prove a capital little nurse, I expect," said Miss Sylvia
cheerfully; "now the day won't wait, Caryl, so get your old auntie up."
"My old auntie is just LOVELY," cried the girl, hopping off from the
bed, and flying around merrily, well pleased at last when the invalid
was in her chair, to see a little faint, pink color stealing up the wan
cheek.
"The best cap, Aunt Sylvia--the best cap!" she cried, running for the
one with the fresh lavender ribbons.
"What an extravagant puss!" exclaimed Aunt Sylvia, willing to humor the
gay little heart, and tapping her cheek as the young girl settled the
cap on the lovely gray hair.
"Everything must be best to-day," cried Caryl recklessly. "It's all
fresh and new and fine! All the world is made just for us."
Maum Patty saw Caryl run down the dirty little brick path that served
for all the lodgers in the old house as a walk to the broken-down gate,
with her color-box under her arm, and her little roll of pictures in her
hand, and heaved a sigh from her ample bosom.
"Dat chile can't make no fortin' like she's a-tinkin' of, but laws! let
her try. Here, yer Viny, yer, be off up to de Missis' room. Scat now!
De pore lettle lamb," she mourned, as her hopeful grandchild unwillingly
dragged her recreant feet off to her duties, leaving her grandmother
to pursue her reflections in peace, "it mos' busts my heart to see her
a-workin' an' de Missis keepin' up an' pretendin' she's as fine as
a queen. 'Twarn't so in ole Patty's day. Den dar wos plenty-pies and
turkeys. Lors, what stumpers! An' hull bar'ls o' flour, an' sugar, an' a
creation sight of eberyting in de beyeutiful house, an' now look at dis
ole shell!"
Maum Patty tossed her turban in intense scorn at each of the dark
soot-begrimed walls of the place called kitchen.
"Missis ud feel more like folks," she said at each disdainful scrutiny,
"an' like as not git well, ef we cud cut sticks inter anudder home. Ef
de chile only CUD do it!"
She peered anxiously down the dirty little brick walk again, then
fetched a still longer sigh.
"I don't darst to!" she declared in a mighty burst at last. "I don't,
cos wot ud keep us all from the pore-'us den. It's every speck I kin do
ter keep along of de Miss an' Car'l an' take keer of 'em wi'dout a cent
o' pay; I don't darst tech my stockin' bag in de bank."
Maum Patty always spoke of her scanty savings deposited in the
neighboring bank, in this way, fondly supposing them in the original
condition in which ten years ago, she had taken them there for future
shield against sickness and old age.
Meantime the little black nurse had begun her work.
Peering around Miss Sylvia's half-closed door, Viny exclaimed to
herself, "Umph! she don't want me; guess she's a'readin' now. I'll git
into Miss Ca's room an' try on all her clo'es an' pertend I'm makin'
calls, an' peek inter ebery single place whar I kin, an' I'll be a lady,
an' dar sha'n't no one scold Viny."
"Viny," called Miss Sylvia's soft voice, hearing a rustle at the door.
"Dat's Jip she's a-talkin' ter, I reckon," said Viny, stealing off on
her tiptoes down the hall, and sticking her fingers in her ears that she
might hear no more troublesome conscience calls; "I seen him on de rug
when I peeked in de crack. Now den--Whoop, says I, WHOOP!"
She was safe now in Caryl's room, where the first thing she did was
to indulge in a series of somersaults over the floor, and also, for
variety, over the neat little white bed. These afforded her intense
comfort. When she came up bright and shining after this celebration of
her independence, she drew herself up with a serious face and proceeded
at once to stern business.
"Two hours ain't long," she observed wisely, "an' I mus' be back some
of de time. Jiminy! she's forgot de key again!" In truth, Caryl in
her great excitement of hunting for some pictures packed away in her
precious drawer, had forgotten to pocket the key that protected her few
treasures.
Ruthlessly, then, they were pulled out and overhauled, while Viny
reveled in each new discovery, chattering softly to herself in glee. She
tied on all the bright bits of ribbons she could lay her hands on,
to the little tiny tails adorning her head. She twisted with great
difficulty into a delicate white spenser that Caryl's mother had worn
when a girl, saved for its tender reminiscence, and for the soft, fine
old lace that would be of use to the young daughter by and by. Viny
was nowise disturbed in her enjoyment at certain ominous crackings
and creakings that proclaimed the giving way of the delicate material.
Arrayed at last to her satisfaction, although the lace did hang down in
some shreds where her impatient fingers had clutched it, she whirled and
whirled in front of the old-fashioned glass with many grimaces, trying
the effect of her new costume.
"I want sumfin to shine," she said at last, tired of this; "jew-EL-lery
an' stuns. Le's see ef she's got any."
Now in one corner of Caryl's drawer was a small black box;
unfortunately, the lock was broken in childhood, and there had been no
money to spare for repairs of anything of that sort, so she had tied it
securely with the strongest of twine, and written on the cover in big
schoolgirl hand the words, "DON'T ANY ONE DARE TO TOUCH!" Although Viny
was unable to decipher the writing in the least, it was fun enough to
attack the string, which presently succumbed to the violent onslaught of
tooth and nail, and the precious, precious bits of brightness were soon
at the mercy of the little black fingers.
Maum Patty was droning away in the kitchen some old Methodist hymns.
Viny was dimly conscious of a faint call from the invalid's room, as
she drew out in the utmost delight an old-fashioned brooch with a green
centre around which were some little sparkling things.
She couldn't even say "Jiminy!" but simply held the pretty thing which
seemed glad of its freedom from solitary confinement, and thus delighted
to sparkle more than ever in its resting-place in the little black
hand. With trembling fingers she fastened it into the centre of the lace
spenser, above her naughty little bosom, hurrying to the glass to do so,
and had just taken one look, when a low cry of distress struck upon her
ear.
It filled her whole soul with dismay, rooting her like a little frozen
thing to the spot. It was Miss Sylvia, she knew.
With one mighty effort she tore herself from the spot, and rushed
headlong into the hall. "Oh--oh--OH!" came from the invalid's room.
At that Viny wrung her hands and writhed in dire distress.
"She's a-dyin'!" she gasped, her knees knocking together in a lively
manner; "I don't darst to look--I don't!--I've killed her!" And the
whole flood of remorse sweeping her very soul, she turned and scuttled
down the crooked little stairs and into the street.
"A doctor!" was all her thought. She remembered hearing Caryl say he
lived in a big brown house that had lots of flowers in the windows. But
where upon the face of the earth the house was situated, Viny knew no
more than a bird. However, she must get him, so she dashed blindly on,
turning the first corner to run headlong into the arms of a portly old
lady who was placidly enjoying the fresh air and sunshine at the same
time that she displayed her rich street attire.
"Oh, my goodness!" cried the old lady, startled out of all fine speeches
by the collision, and jumping in fright to the extreme edge of the
curbstone. Then seeing the cause, she cried in anger, "You miserable,
dirty little thing you, you ve nearly killed me!"
At the word "killed," Viny began to dance in terror on the sidewalk. "I
know it," she cried, "oh, dear, I know it! she's dead, an' grandma 'll
beat me."
"And if you don't know any better," cried the old lady, vainly trying to
settle her gray puffs as they were before, "than to run into people in
this way, I'll have you arrested, I will!"
At this Viny was completely overcome. Her guilty conscience pictured all
sorts of punishments; worse, far worse, than "grandma's" judgments, and,
falling on her knees, she grasped the old lady's black satin gown and
implored for mercy.
The old lady, now her attention was drawn off from her own annoyance,
settled her eyes on the brooch half concealed by a fold of the little
lace spenser.
"You wicked, bad child!" she exclaimed, seizing her arm and pouncing one
stiffly gloved hand on the sparkling brooch; "you've stolen that! It's
bad enough to be run into by a dirty little thing fresh from Bedlam,
without being wicked into the bargain. That's TOO much!"
The little black figure being too wretched to hear this tirade, could
only mumble and wail and wriggle closer and closer into the folds of the
rich gown.
"Get out of my dress!" cried the old lady excitedly. "Here, I'll
call the police; if you don't let go of me this instant! Stop, I say!
Po-o-lice!"
Viny gave one violent jerk that brought her up to her feet, and with
eyes distended in terror, started in wild despair across the street.
A pair of handsome bays were coming in their best step down from the
Square, drawing a carriage full of people who seemed in the very best of
spirits.
"WHOA-A!" A click, a rapid pull-up with all Thomas's best strength, and
the horses fell back on their haunches just in time for the little lithe
figure to dart under their pawing hoofs and be saved! Everybody leaned
out of the carriage for a glimpse of the child.
"Why--why"--A young girl's face paled, while the gray eyes flashed, and
with one spring she was out and rushing after the small flying figure
who in her fright had turned to flee the other way.
"Look out, Caryl!" called the others in the carriage after her.
"Oh, she'll be killed," moaned a little girl leaning out as far as she
dared over the wheels.
"And then she can't ever get into the pretty new house," wailed another.
"Oh, what shall we do! Come back, Bessie!" she cried, tugging at her
sister's skirts. "Grandmamma, make her come into the carriage, I can't
hold her!"
But a crowd of people surging up around them at this moment, took off
all attention from Bessie and everybody else but the little fugitive
and her kind pursuer. Caryl made her way through the crowd with flushed
face, her little brown hat hanging by its strings around her neck,
pantingly dragging after her the little black girl.
"It's our Viny," she said, "and something is the matter with Aunt
Sylvia! Oh, Madam Grant!"
"My poor child," said a sweet-faced woman, reaching out a kind arm,
while the children seized hold of Caryl at every available point,
between them dragging her and her charge into shelter, "don't be
troubled. Drive just as fast as you can, Thomas, to No. 27, you know,"
she commanded hurriedly.
Then the first thing Caryl did was to turn upon Viny and unhook the
precious brooch as a low sob came from her white lips. "If it had been
lost!"
A soft hand stole under the little brown cloak to clasp her own; but
Madam Grant said never a word. She knew what the young girl's heart was
too full for speech; that the mother's brooch would speak more tenderly
than ever she could, of forgiveness to the little ignorant black girl.
The children were all eyes at Viny and her costume, but they said never
a word while she howled on steadily, only ejaculating in an occasional
gust, "O Miss Sylvy--Miss Sylvy!"
Caryl, white as a sheet, rushed out of the carriage and into the old
lodging house the instant the horses paused by the broken gate. Maum
Patty was singing in the little kitchen the refrain she never indulged
in except in her most complacent moods. Flinging wide the door, Caryl
panted out, "Oh, what is it! Tell me at once!"
"Lawks!" exclaimed Maum Patty, startled from her peaceful enjoyment, and
turning so suddenly in the old calico-covered chair that she sent her
spectacles spinning into the middle of the floor. "Massy, how yer look!
Tain't wurth it--don't! He hain't spile't it; I stopped him," she added
exultingly.
"Stopped what?" echoed Caryl in bewildered distress. "Oh, do tell me!
Is'nt Aunt Sylvia sick? Tell me, Maum Patty," she pleaded. And she
grasped the old woman's arm in an agony of suspense.
"Massy, no!" declared Maum Patty in her most cheery tones, "she's ben
a-laughin' fit to kill herself, an' I don't wonder, for the little
rascal looked as cunnin' as an imp. But I stopped him I stopped him!"
she added triumphantly.
Caryl had no strength to ask further, nor to stir. The reaction was too
great, and she leaned up against the door for support.
"He shuck it, an' shuck it," said the old woman, laughing immoderately.
"Laws, how he shuck it--dat Jip did--yer aunt's beyeutiful cap with the
new puppel ribbons! Ye see it tumbled off; I dunno wedder she sneezed,
or wot she did, but anyway, it tumbled off on de flo', and dat little
pison scamp jumped up from his rug an' cotched it, an' she a-callin'
an'a-callin, fit ver die--I'll snake dat Viny w'en I gets her.--Lawks,
but I couldn't help it! I laughed till I cried to see dat dog carry on.
Luckily I run up just when I did to pay my 'specs to de Missis, for--I
stopped him, I stopped him," she brought herself up to declare, wiping
her eyes.
"Viny," said Caryl, in her little room, an hour after, when everything
had been confessed and forgiven; when the delightful story had all come
out, how they were really and truly to move that very afternoon; how
Madam Grant had paid the rent in advance for the sunny rooms in the
little cottage, and they were just driving around to surprise Aunt
Sylvia when they witnessed Viny's escapade; how the carriage was to come
before very long to take dear Aunt Sylvia to her longed-for refuge; how
the price of the lessons was to go for new furniture; how everything
for the rest of their lives was to be cheery, winsome, and bright to
the very last degree--when it was all finished, Caryl looked kindly
down into the sorry little black face--"Yes, Viny," she said with the
happiest little laugh, "I shall have to forgive you, for it's the last
naughty thing that you will ever do in the old home."