"WAXERATION."
Still, in spite of cheeses, beehives, bossies, and kittens, I had many
lonesome hours, and sometimes cried after I went to bed. Samantha must
have known it, for I slept with her; I was afraid to sleep alone.
There were times when I thought I would start off secretly, and go
home on foot. I asked the hired man how long he supposed it would take
a little girl to walk to Willowbrook, and what were the chances of her
getting lost if she should try it? I thought I spoke in such a guarded
way that Seth would not have the least idea what I meant; but he must
have been very quick-witted, for he understood in a minute. He did
not let me know it, though, and only answered coolly,--
"Wal, I should think now it would take her about a week's steady
travel, and no knowing but she'd starve to death on the road. Why,
_you_ hain't heerd of a little gal that thinks of such a thing, I
hope?"
"No; I don't see many little girls," said I, with a dismal sigh; "they
don't have anything here but bossies and horses."
I did not know, till Seth nipped it in the bud, what a sweet hope I
had been cherishing. Should I truly starve to death if I took my
little cheese in a basket on my arm, and some doughnuts and
turn-overs? But no, it would be stealing to take things out of cousin
Lydia's cupboard, and run off with them. I would rather stay at
Bloomingdale and suffer, than be a thief.
I know now that Seth told cousin Lydia what I said to him, and her
kind heart was touched. I am sure she must have had a hard time with
me, for she knew nothing about children, and was as busy as she could
be with her dairy and her "fall work." I ought not to have been so
unhappy. Some children at that age, with so much done for their
amusement, would have felt perfectly contented; but I had naturally a
restless disposition, and wanted, as Ned said, "sumpin diffunt."
Ah, Horace! very gallant in you to say I have "got bravely over it."
Thank you, dear; I hope I have, to some degree; still I might have got
over it much younger if I had only tried a little harder. A child of
seven is old enough to be grateful to its friends, when they do all
they can for its comfort and pleasure.
Cousin Lydia wrote mother about my state of mind; and it troubled her.
She talked with Madam Allen, who was always full of plans. Madam
thought a minute, and then said,--
"Poor Marjie, we can't have her homesick. Do you suppose she would
like to have Ruphelle go there and stay with her?"
Of course mother knew I would be happy with Ruphelle.
Then Madam Allen wished mother would please write cousin Lydia, and
ask if Fel might go to Bloomingdale a few weeks. She hoped the
mountain air would be strengthening to the dear little girl, who
seemed rather drooping.
Cousin Lydia was willing; and Madam Allen sent Ruphelle by cars,
with a gentleman and lady who were going to Boston. Not a word was
said to me; and when Seth harnessed the horse and went to the station
to meet her, I supposed he was only "going to see his mother;" for
that was what he always said when I asked any questions. It was about
three miles to the flag station, and I believe his mother lived
somewhere on the way.
I was not watching for him to come back, or thinking anything about
him, when I happened to look out of the window and see him helping a
little girl out of the wagon. The red and white plaid looked exactly
like Fel's dress; and as the little girl turned around, there were the
soft, brown eyes, and the dark, wavy hair, and the lovely pale face of
Fel Allen herself!
I never expect to be much happier till I get to heaven than I was
for the next hour or two. I danced and screamed, and laughed and
cried, and wondered how Fel could keep so calm, when we hadn't seen
each other for as much as three weeks.
"I don't see what's the matter with me," sobbed I; "I never was so
glad in my life; but I can't help a-crying!"
Fel was not one of the kind to go wild. She usually knew what she was
about. Supper was ready, and she sat at the table, and ate honey on
her bread and butter, as if she really enjoyed it; also answered every
one of cousin Lydia's many questions like a little lady.
I had no appetite, and could hardly have told what my name was if any
one had asked me.
But from that time my homesickness was gone. I took my little friend
all about the farm, which was a very nice place, only I had never
thought of it before, and showed her the speckled bossy, which seemed
to have grown handsomer all in one night.
"Here are some black currants, Fel; do you like 'em?"
"O, yes."
"Why, I don't; I just despise 'em."
"Well, I don't like 'em _very_ well," said Fel; for after our long
separation she could not bear to disagree with me in anything.
"Cousin Lydia," said I, very soon after Fel came, "may we tell scare
stories after we go to bed? She wants us to."
Cousin Lydia did not know what I meant by "scare stories."
"It's all the awful things we can think of," said I, eagerly. "And we
like to, for we want to see 'f our hair 'll stand out straight."
Cousin Lydia laughed, and said "children were perfect curiosities."
"It makes us shiver all over. It's splendid," said I.
"Well, you may try it this once," said cousin Lydia, "if you'll stop
talking the moment I tap on the wall."
So, as soon as we got into bed we began. "You tell first," said
Ruphelle; "you can tell the orfulest, and then I'll tell."
"Mine'll be about the Big Giant," said I, clearing my throat.
_The Big Giant._
"Once upon a time he had three heads, and he roared so you could hear
him a mile."
"That isn't anything," said Fel; "my hair don't stand out a bit."
"Why, I hadn't but just begun. You wait and see what comes next. Did
I say the Big Giant had three heads? He had sixteen. And every one of
'em had three mouths, and some had ten; and they made a noise when he
chewed grass like----like thunder."
"It don't scare me a bit," said Fel, stoutly.
"Did I say the Big Giant ate grass? He ate _fire_; he ate live coals,
the _liver_ the better."
"I should have thought 'twould have burnt him all up," said Fel.
"There, miss, you needn't pretend not to be scared! I'm so scared
myself I can't but just tell!--No, it didn't burn him up; it came out
at his great big nose. And when the Big Giant walked along the streets
folks ran away, for he blazed so. And there wasn't enough water in
Willowbrook to put him out!"
"He didn't live at Willowbrook?"
"O, yes, right between your house and my house; _and lives there
now_!"
By that time Fel began to tremble and creep closer to me.
"Tell some more," said she, laughing. "It don't scare me a bit."
And I told, and I told. There was no end to the horrible things that
Big Giant had done, was doing, or was going to do.
"Does your hair stand up, Fel?"
"No; feel and see if it does. But there's a creepy feeling goes over
me; don't it over you?"
"Yes," said I, highly excited. "Got your eyes shut, Fel?"
"Yes, shut up tight."
"Open 'em," said I, solemnly; "for how do you know but that Big
Giant's got into this room? Can't you _see_ the fire coming out of his
nose?"
Fell couldn't, exactly.
"Get out," said I, "and get the wash-bowl and pitcher, and let's throw
it at him kersplash."
"I dassent," said Fel, faintly.
"Nor I dassent neither."
By that time I was out of bed, much more frightened than Fel was, and
calling "Cousin Lydia," as loud as I could shout. She came in in great
surprise, and it was some time before she could succeed in calming us.
I remember how heartily she laughed, and how my teeth chattered. I
actually had to be wrapped in a blanket and dosed with ginger tea. I
wonder how many times cousin Lydia said,--
"Well, children ARE perfect curiosities."
* * * * *
We could not think of such a thing as spending the night alone after
all this, and Samantha was obliged to get into our bed and sleep in
the middle. Cousin Lydia said we made too much hard work for the
family by telling "scare stories," and we must not do it again while
we staid at her house.
"I have just found out, Marjie, why it is that you are afraid to sleep
alone," said she; "it is because you allow yourself to think about
such frightful things. Is it not so?"
"Yes'm," said I, quivering in the blanket.
"Well, child, you must stop it at once; it is a very foolish habit,
and may grow upon you. Never think of dreadful things. Say your little
prayer, asking God to take care of you, and then lie down in peace,
for he will certainly do it. Ruphelle, are you ever afraid?"
"No'm, only when I'm with Marjie; but I like to hear her tell
things; I ask her to."
Fel often said she had beautiful thoughts about angels after she went
to bed, and dreamed that they came and stood by her pillow.
Ah, that was no common child; she lived very near the gates of heaven.
Strange I could have associated with her so much, and still have been
so full of wrong desires and naughty actions!
Julia Tenney, who was not very fond of children, certainly not of
me, took a decided fancy to Fel the moment she saw her. I soon found
this out, for she did not try to conceal it, and said more than once
that "that child was too good for this world." I thought everybody
liked her better than me, from Miss Julia down to the cat. I did not
consider this at all strange; only I longed to do something to show
myself worthy of praise, as well as she.
There was a panic at that time about small-pox, and the doctor came
one day to vaccinate everybody in the house. We children looked on
with great interest to see the lancet make a scratch in cousin Lydia's
arm, and then in Miss Samantha's, and Miss Julia's.
"Now for the little folks," said the doctor, and drew Fel along to
him; but she broke away in great alarm, and began to cry. "Well,
well," said the doctor, turning to me, "here's a little lady that will
come right up, I know she will; _she_ won't mind such a thing as a
prick of a needle."
No, I really didn't mind it; why should I, when I had been gashed
and slashed all my life? So I walked up very quickly to show my
courage. I guessed they wouldn't laugh about my Big Giant now! I
rolled back my sleeve with an air of triumph, and looked down on Fel,
who shrank into a corner. Everybody was surprised, and said, "Well
done!" and hoped I wasn't _all_ the brave child there was in the
house.
I walked on thrones, I assure you; for there was Fel crying, and
begging to wait till after dinner. Why, she hadn't any more courage
than a chicken. I was ashamed of her. The doctor said he would wait
till after dinner if she would surely have it done then.
"O, you little scare-girl!" said I, as he walked out to talk with
cousin Joseph, and we two children were left alone in the room.
The doctor had laid his lancet and the little quill of vaccine
matter on the table, having no thought, I suppose, that such small
children as we would dare touch them.
"I can waxerate as well as he can," said I, taking up the lancet, "for
I watched him. Push up your sleeve, Fel, and I'll waxerate you, and
then when the doctor does it, you'll get used to it, you know."
"Don't you, _don't_ you touch that sharp thing, Madge Parlin."
"Poh! do you think I'm a little scare-girl like you?" returned I,
proudly, for my little head was quite turned with flattery. "He didn't
say folks musn't touch it, did he, Miss Fel? It's just like a needle;
and who's afraid of a needle but you? I'll waxerate _me_, if _you_
don't dast. Just you look! When I've done it three times to me, will
you let me do it to you?"
Fel wouldn't promise, but I went boldly to work. Let me count the
scars--yes, twenty scratches I made above my elbow, never forgetting
the vaccine, saying, as I stopped to take breath,--
"Ready now, Fel?"
She never was ready, but she stood looking on with such meekness and
awe, that I was just as well satisfied. After the doctor was gone, and
she was in cousin Lydia's lap, quite overcome by the fright of
"waxeration," I told what I had done, expecting to be praised.
"Why, Maggie!" said cousin Lydia, really shocked, "what will you do
next? It was very, very wrong for you to meddle with the doctor's
lancet."
"Ah, well," said Miss Julia, "I guess she'll be a sick enough child
when it 'takes.'"
I did not understand that, but I saw I had sunk again in
everybody's esteem. And that very afternoon Miss Julia allowed Fel,
who had been such a coward, to dress up in her bracelets, rings, pin,
and even her gold watch, only "she must be sure and not let Maggie
touch them."
Of course I see now what a heedless child I was, and don't wonder
Miss Julia wished to preserve her ornaments from my fingers; still she
ought not to have given them to Fel before my very eyes. I thought it
was hard, after scratching myself so unmercifully, not to have either
glory or kisses, or even a bosom-pin to wear half an hour. My arm
smarted, and I felt cross. As Miss Julia went out of the room she
patted Fel's head, but took no notice of me, and cousin Lydia did the
very same thing two minutes afterwards. It was more than I could
bear.
"Ho, little _borrow-girl_," said I to Fel, "got a gold watch, too!
'Fore I'd wear other folks's things! I don't wear a single one thing
on me but b'longs to me; you may count 'em and see!"
It seemed as if I could not let her alone; but such was the sweetness
of nature in that dear little girl that she loved me through
everything.
"I thought you wanted to go out doors and play with me," said I; "and
if you do, you'd better take off your borrowed watch!"
Fel did not answer, but tucked the watch into her bosom; and we went
out in no very pleasant mood.