A PECK OF TROUBLE.
"Where is uncle?" was Edna's first question when she reached home.
"Listen to the dear," replied Ellen. "She doesn't know that the two of
them has gone away suddint."
"Why, where?" asked Edna, in astonishment.
"To Mr. Horner's sisther's, darlin'; wurred came by the bhy from the
telegraph office thot the poor leddy's tur'ble low, and would they
come right away? So the madam t'rows a bit o' their clothes intil a
bag, an' says she, 'Ellen, we'll be back the mornin; ye must look out
for the childer.'"
"O," cried Edna, "then we can eat supper in the kitchen; and you'll
let me pour out, won't you?"
"Will I thin? av coorse I will, an' I'll make ye a bit o' short cake."
"O, that will be fine," replied Edna, "I'm going up stairs to take off
my wraps, and then I'm coming down into the kitchen."
"Moind ye change yer dhress," called Ellen; "an' put on an apron, so
ye'll not get yer clothes hurted."
Edna was down again in a twinkling, the cause of the sudden departure
of her uncle and aunt lost sight of in this "happening" of a cosy
time.
[Illustration: MOGGINS.]
There was something particularly cheery and comfortable about the
clean kitchen. Louis was already there playing with Moggins; the
little kitty was whisking around after a string, his prancings and
sidewise jumps making the children laugh merrily. Edna left this play
to make a little short cake from some dough which Ellen gave her. She
baked it on top of the stove, and, although it was neither very clean
nor well baked, and was rather ragged looking, it was heartily enjoyed
by the children and Moggins, who was a little cat ready to taste
anything offered to him.
Edna poured out the cambric tea and mixed it with great gravity,
giving Louis plenty of sugar in his, while the amount of short cake
and syrup indulged in would have been considered shocking by Aunt
Elizabeth. But the children had never so enjoyed a meal in that house.
Edna's doll, Ada, occupied a place at the table, being mounted upon a
firkin placed upon a chair, and as Edna had to eat both her own and
her doll's share of the short cake it was no wonder that the supply
was more than she could manage.
Louis took Moggins under his care, but Moggins, it must be confessed,
did not behave so well as Ada, for he slyly whipped off with his paw
pieces of food from Louis' fork, and began lapping the cambric tea
from his neighbor's cup, so finally he was sent from the table, a
disgrace which did not affect him in the least, as it gave him a
chance to scamper around after his tail, and race about without
restraint.
"O, Louis," said Edna, when bedtime came, "aren't you afraid to sleep
down here alone?"
Louis flushed up. "What did you say that for?" he replied. "I wasn't
going to think about it, and now you've made me. I'm not exactly
afraid, but it is a long way up to you and Ellen if anything should
happen."
Ellen stood thoughtfully considering the question, one hand on her
hip, and the other stroking her puckered-up lips. "Thrue for ye," she
said. "I promised the mistress to hev an eye on ye, an' how can an eye
pinitrate through the two flures? I'll bring a cot down for mesilf to
your aunt's room, an' Edna shall sleep in the big bed, whilst I take
the cot, so we'll all be commojus and neighborlylike."
There was much fun and laughter getting the cot down stairs, and Edna
thought it a great experience to sleep in her aunt's big bed, while
Louis was very glad not to be so far removed from the others, although
he professed great indifference upon the subject after his first
confession.
The next morning the school children began to gather. Nine o'clock
came and no teacher, for, strange to say, even Miss Ashurst did not
make her appearance. A note from her did arrive, but as it was
addressed to Professor Horner no one opened it, and the cause of her
absence was not explained.
"O, fun!" cried one of the girls. "No school to-day. We'll have a
holiday."
"We'd better wait a little while," said Agnes Evans, who was the
eldest as well as the brightest pupil in the school. "Professor and
Mrs. Horner may come in any minute; we'll wait till ten o'clock. Come
here, little sobersides," she said to Edna. "What are you so solemn
about? What word did your aunt and uncle leave?"
"They left word that they would be back this morning," replied Edna.
"Of course they supposed Miss Ashurst would be here, and that she
would be able to get along till they came. Don't you think--" and Edna
looked up hesitatingly.
"What, monkey dear?" said Agnes, passing her arm around the child.
"Out with it."
"Don't you think we might have school just the same if you big girls
were to take the teachers' places? Don't you think we ought to try to
do the best we can?"
"You dear child," responded Agnes. "The idea of your having more
conscience than us big girls! Of course that is what we should do.
Miss Ashurst has been absent once or twice before, and one of us has
always taken charge of the little girls. Helen Darby, come here," she
called to one of her classmates. "Will you take charge of the little
girls? We're going to be good and have school the best way we can.
Find Florence Gittings and see if she'll undertake the boys. She'll be
just the one to manage them," and springing forward to Professor
Horner's desk, Agnes rapped sharply.
The girls who had been chattering like magpies suddenly became silent.
"Girls!" said Agnes, "how many of you will stand by me, and do their
best to-day? This little midget has made me ashamed of myself by
telling me my duty, and I'll do my best to teach those in this room.
Anyone who can't trust to my judgment can go home immediately, and any
girl who can't promise to behave just as well as if the professor were
here can also go home."
Not a girl left the room.
"Good!" cried Agnes. "Now let us go to work," and school was opened
without further delay.
Agnes conscientiously kept strictly to the order of the day as mapped
out by Professor Horner, and the girls, with good will, entered into
the spirit of the occasion. "You are on your honor, girls," Agnes told
them, "and I don't believe there is one here mean enough to slight her
work." So even the most careless tried to keep up to the standard set
for her, while the bright young teacher made everything as interesting
as possible.
Florence Gittings managed the little boys fairly well, and Helen Darby
did her best with the little girls. The latter, however, belonged to
the most troublesome class, and Edna felt very much ashamed of some of
them.
"O, dear!" she said to Miss Evans, "our class didn't behave well at
all, and it will have to be reported to Uncle Justus."
"You dear thing!" replied Agnes, "you shall be reported for good
behavior, I can tell you. I shall just tell your uncle what a dear
little soul you were, and how you really were the one who started the
plan of our day's doings."
Edna blushed at the praise. She was not often commended by Aunt
Elizabeth, who did not believe in praising children, and so the little
girl was very grateful for this.
"If anything happens to detain our teachers to-morrow, girls," said
Agnes, at parting, "we shall do just as well, I hope. So please all
put in an appearance."
Dinner was not served in the kitchen, and the two children ate their
meal feeling a little forlorn at being so long left to themselves. It
was very well for a time, but, as the day wore on, Edna missed Uncle
Justus from his place in his easy chair, missed Aunt Elizabeth's heavy
tread, and told Louis she did.
"Ho! that's just like a girl," he said. "I don't miss them that way, I
can tell you. I'm glad enough to get a chance to have a fling. I know
what I'm going to do this afternoon."
"What?" asked Edna.
"I'm going to have a lot of the boys in and have some fun."
"O!" exclaimed his cousin, with round eyes of disapproval.
"Why shouldn't I?" asked Louis, sharply. "I guess I have a right to do
as I choose when there's nobody here to tell me I sha'n't."
Edna could not always answer Louis' arguments, but she knew it would
be against the wishes of her aunt and uncle. "I wouldn't do it," she
said.
"O, no, _you_ wouldn't, good little baby girl; you're too much of a
saint. I suppose you'll tattle, too."
The tears came into Edna's eyes. "Now, Louis, you know I never tell on
you."
"Well, no, you don't; but if you're so down on a fellow's having any
fun, what's he to expect?"
"I'm not down on your having fun, but I think we ought to do just as
well as we can while uncle and aunt are away; better even, for it
seems sort of--sort of dishonest to do things behind people's backs
that you wouldn't do before their faces."
"Do you mean to say I am dishonest?" began Louis, blustering.
"O, no," cried Edna; "but--but--"
"Humph! I don't believe you know what you do mean. Now, see here; my
father and mother ain't wicked people, are they?"
"Of course not."
"Well, then, if they let me have boys to come in and play with me at
home, why isn't it just as right here? Answer me that!"
Edna could not answer, so she got up and walked away, Louis calling
after her, "You needn't have anything to do with it, Miss Goody-goody.
I don't suppose the boys will insist upon your playing with them." And
a moment after Edna heard him go out of the house.
About a half hour later she heard him return, a troop of boys
following him. They clattered into the house and up into the
schoolroom. Ellen, hearing the noise, went up, but, as might have been
expected, the boys only jeered at her, and paid no attention to what
she said.
"Masther Louis must study his lessons," she told them.
"I don't have to," replied Louis. "I don't call that any school we had
to-day, and I'm not going to study the same lessons twice. You don't
know anything about it, Ellen. You just go along and tend to your
business. We're not going to do any harm." And Ellen, after standing
helplessly looking at them for a moment, went back to her work.
"Will she tell on you, Louis?" asked the boys.
"I don't care if she does," returned he. "If they make a fuss, I know
what I can do. I can run away."
"Good for you!" cried Phil Blaney. "Of course you can. You can go out
West. You can make your way to California, where your father and
mother are. You'll have a fine time, Lou, for you'll meet cowboys, and
maybe you'll have a whack at the Indians. That's what I'd like to do.
You're no baby, to be ordered around by a little girl and a servant."
"You bet I'm not," returned Louis, feeling very big. "They'd better
try bossing me. I'll let 'em know they can't do it."
The boys' play became more and more boisterous as time went on. The
schoolroom presented a fine field for sport, and Edna, in her room
above, trembled as now and then came a crash which made her jump.
"O, my!" she exclaimed; "I hope they won't go to Uncle Justus's
chemical closet. I'm so afraid they will!" And, indeed, the boys were
bent on investigating everything, with the intention of putting all in
order before they left.
But in the midst of the din came a sudden quiet. Edna could stand it
no longer, and she ran down stairs and peeped in the room. In flinging
a book across the room one of the boys had upset a bottle of ink, the
contents of which spattered floor and wall. The boys were busy mopping
it up.
"You can say the cat got up here and did it," Phil Blaney was saying.
"No, he sha'n't," cried Edna, from the door, ready to defend Moggins.
The boys all stopped and looked fearfully around.
"O, it's only Louis' cousin! She won't tell; will you, Edna?"
"I sha'n't let Moggins be blamed when he can't speak for himself," she
replied, firmly, although she was scared.
"If you dare to tell," began Phil, coming up to her threateningly,
"I'll--I'll make it worse for you."
Edna grew very pale. She was afraid of this big, boastful boy, but she
did not flinch.
"Say, will you tell?" demanded Phil, seizing her by the wrist.
Louis sprang forward. "Look out!" he cried. "Let my cousin alone, will
you! Don't you dare to touch her."
Phil turned on him, the other boys standing off.
"You want to fight, do you?" cried Phil, with a swagger.
Louis' eyes flashed, and he made a step forward to wrench Phil's hold
from Edna's wrist.
"O, don't, Louis; don't!" cried the little girl, making an effort and
freeing herself to fling her arms around her cousin.
"Come on, boys!" called Phil "Don't let these youngsters down me."
The boys stood a little uncertain, till Charlie Stabler, who had been
out of the room to get some water, returned. "Ah, let them alone!" he
said. "Louis is littler than you, Phil."
"I don't care!" replied he. "I'll thrash him if Edna does not promise
not to tell."
Poor little Edna! She trembled from head to foot. Louis had befriended
her, and now, to choose between him and Moggins, what was she to do?
But her courage came to her rescue. "You're a coward!" she cried.
Again Phil made a dive at her, but Charlie Stabler, leading the other
boys, arose to the occasion, and made a rush forward, so that the
little girl found herself in the midst of the group.
"Let her alone!" cried Louis.
"I shan't!" cried Phil, and the confusion arose higher and higher.
But suddenly a hush fell upon everyone, and, looking up, Edna saw
Uncle Justus standing in the doorway.