THE PIECED BABY
For a long time Rose had been wanting a little sister. Kenneth was the
very best brother that ever lived, and they had beautiful times playing
together. But Kenneth was growing to be a big boy, and he liked a great
many things that Rose did not enjoy,--fishing, for instance, which
made her very ill. And there were things which Rose liked that Kenneth
would not play with her. Rose thought if only she had a little sister
they two would like just the same sort of things. They could play dolls
together, and house, and tea-party, and have the most beautiful times
when Kenneth was away doing something very different.
Rose had waited a long time for the little sister. She had spoken to
her papa and mamma about it months before, and they had said that
perhaps some time there would come a little sister for her. Rose
thought that Christmas would be a very nice time for the sister to
come. But although Santa Claus was very kind and had brought two little
kittens to Christine, the Christmas cat, and had brought Alice, her
beautiful new doll, to Rose herself, there had been no baby sister in
mamma’s stocking nor in papa’s.
Rose was almost tired of waiting. She wanted the little sister so
much that one morning, when Kenneth had gone to dig clams with
Captain Prout, she cried all by herself out in the woods behind the
house,--cried as if her heart would break. Her Aunt Claire found her
there, and asked her what was the matter. Then Rose told her all about
it.
“Have you asked the fairies to help you?” said Aunt Claire
sympathetically. Rose said that she had forgotten to do that.
“Well, I would do so, if I were you,” said Aunt Claire gravely. “One
never knows what may happen if you can only get the fairies to help.”
Rose thought over what her auntie had said all that day, and she
resolved to ask the fairies to help her at the very first chance she
had. She sometimes saw them, when she woke up between dreams at night,
and she hoped that very soon she should meet her friends again. It
happened sooner than she expected.
That very night, when she had not been asleep very long, she was
suddenly awakened by a little silvery laugh. And when she opened her
eyes to see what had laughed, there in the moonlight at the foot of her
bed stood a beautiful Fairy in a silver dress.
“Why, Rose, what are you crying about?” said the Fairy.
“Was I crying?” said Rose. “I did not know it.”
[Illustration: AWAKENED BY A LITTLE SILVERY LAUGH]
“Yes,” said the Fairy. “You were crying in your sleep, sobbing so hard
that I heard you away off in Fairyland. So I knew something very sad
must be troubling you, and I came just as quickly as I could to my
little friend. What is it, Rose? What is the matter?”
The Fairy spoke so kindly that Rose began to cry again.
“Oh, I do so want a little sister!” she sobbed.
“Well, why don’t you go about to get one?” asked the Fairy.
“I don’t know how,” said Rose, blinking the tears in wonder. “Where can
I find one, dear Fairy?”
“You can’t find a whole baby,” said the Fairy, “but you must gather her
in little pieces. Then perhaps my fairies will put her together for
you, like a patchwork quilt.”
“I never heard of such a thing!” exclaimed Rose indignantly. “I don’t
want a pieced little sister, I want a nice whole one.”
“Oh, very well,” returned the Fairy Queen carelessly, “but I’ll tell
you a secret. They are _all_ pieced that way, though nobody knows it.
The seams never show, we take such fine, fine stitches. But the pieces
must be carefully chosen. Haven’t you noticed how some babies have a
nose which doesn’t belong with the chin, or unmatched eyes, or ears
which are not a truly pair? You must do better than that, Rose. You
must choose carefully, so that your little sister will be symmetrical
and even,--the same on both sides.”
“Oh, can I really do it?” cried Rose eagerly, sitting up in bed. “When
may I begin?”
“Begin now,” said the Fairy. “I suppose you would like to have the
little sister as soon as possible?”
“I would like her to-morrow!” cried Rose, jumping out of bed. “But how
shall I begin? Will you not help me?”
“I cannot help you to collect the pieces,” answered the Fairy, “but I
will give you a hint. You might begin with a _face_ for your little
sister; and why not go to the clock for that?” So saying the Fairy
suddenly disappeared.
“Go to the clock!” Rose gasped, “how very strange!” Then she looked
up at the tall old clock that faced her bed, and in the moonlight
the face seemed to be smiling at her. “It’s a queer face for a baby
sister to have,” thought Rose, “but the Fairy ought to know. I will
begin as she told me.” So she peeled the pillowcase from her pillow to
make a good big bag for the pieces which she was to collect. Then she
went up to the clock and said politely,--for he was an old friend of
hers,--“Please, Clock, I want your face to begin a baby sister.” Then
she took off the face and put it in the bottom of the pillowcase bag.
“Now what must my little sister have next?” wondered Rose. “_Eyes_, of
course! But where shall I find eyes?” Just then her own eyes happened
to spy the pincushion on the bureau. “To be sure! Needles have eyes. I
will borrow two for my sister.” And into the bundle went two needles.
But Rose was careful that they should be just alike, as the Fairy had
warned.
“Now I want a _nose_,” thought Rose. “What has a nose? Oh--a kettle.”
And very quietly, so as not to waken any one in the house, she ran down
into the kitchen, took the nose from the teakettle, and put that in the
bag.
“A _mouth_; I must have a mouth next. Oh, yes, a bottle has a mouth,”
said Rose. She found one in the pantry, and its round mouth went into
the bundle with the eyes and nose. But there must be a _tongue_ to go
in the mouth. Rose thought and thought; but at last she remembered that
there was a tongue in her shoe, and that was added to the collection.
“What about a _head_? She needs that for her face, her eyes and nose
and mouth; I forgot her head!” cried Rose. “Let me think. Why, yes,
a head of lettuce,--that is what I want.” And because it was summer,
warm and pleasant out of doors, Rose skipped right out in her nightie
and bare feet. The vegetable garden was behind the house, and there
Rose picked out a round head of lettuce, which she added to her funny
bundle.
The garden made her think of something else. The baby must have _ears_,
and where should one look for ears if not in the cornfield? So away she
tripped to the cornfield, where for weeks she had been watching the
ears of corn grow plumper every day. Here she carefully selected two
pretty ears, just alike.
“And now the little sister is ready and trimmed as far as her neck,”
thought Rose. “And for a _neck_, I know where I can find that. Mamma’s
white vase on the parlor mantel has a beautiful neck.” So back to the
house went Rose, and soon into the bundle with the other things went
the white vase.
“Now let me see, baby must have a _body_. What is there that has a
body? The body of a--the body of a--what have I heard? The body of a
wagon; yes, that is it! But I can’t take Papa’s big wagon. A little one
will be nicer for a baby. I will take the body of Kenneth’s express
wagon,” and Rose pattered softly to Kenneth’s room, where the little
red cart went into the fast-growing bundle.
Next Rose took the _arms_ of a sofa, two _legs_ of a chair, and two
_feet_ of a table. Then she went back to her own little room. “You poor
old clock,” she said to her now faceless friend, “I must rob you again.
Please, I want your two _hands_ for my little sister.” And the clock
had to give her his hands, whether he could spare them or not. Then
Rose remembered that the baby must have _nails_ on her hands and feet.
So she tiptoed very softly into Mamma’s room and got twenty nails from
the little carpenter’s chest which Mamma kept in her closet.
By this time the pillowcase had grown very heavy and hard to carry,
like Santa Claus’s wonderful pack. Moreover, Rose was tired, for she
had been roaming around for a long time collecting the pieces of her
little sister.
“I think I must have everything now,” she sighed, sitting down on the
edge of her bed. “Such a funny bundle! I hope little Sister will not
look very queer with all these strange kinds of features and things. I
wish the Queen of the Fairies would come and tell me what to do next.”
Just at that moment Rose blinked and stopped talking, for in at the
window on a ray of moonlight came walking the Fairy Queen herself. She
smiled at Rose and nodded when she saw the big bundle.
“Good!” she said. “You have done well. I hope that you haven’t
forgotten anything, for that would be awkward.” Rose shook her head
positively. “Very well,” went on the Fairy, “now empty out your bundle
upon the floor at the foot of the bed, put the pillowcase on the pillow
and go to sleep. As soon as your eyes are closed tight I will see what
my fairies can do with the pieces which you have collected. But mind,
you must not peep.”
“No, I promise not to peep,” said Rose, and obediently she went to bed
and closed her eyes tight, and before she knew it she was sound asleep.
Rose slept and slept and slept, later than usual. And it was not until
the old clock called out, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
_eight_!” that she opened her eyes with a pop and stared at him hard.
How could a clock speak without a face? But there the old fellow stood,
smiling at her as usual, with his hands pointing up and down quite
correctly.
“Then it was only a dream after all!” sighed Rose, and there were two
tears in her eyes as she thought of the little sister whom she had
hoped to see this morning. “There wasn’t any Fairy Queen, and I didn’t
go about last night collecting eyes and ears and hands for a new baby.
Oh, dear! Oh, dear!”
Just then there was a knock on the door, and Papa came into the room.
“Wake up, my little Rose,” he said, “and see what I have to show you
here! Something came in the night, something new and nice that you have
wanted for a long time.”
“Oh, Papa,” gasped Rose, “what is it? Not a--not a little sister?”
Papa looked surprised. “Why, how did you guess, Rose?” he asked. “That
is just what it is.” And he beckoned to Eliza, Rose’s own old nurse,
who came into the room with a tiny bundle in her arms. And there,
wrapped in soft flannel, was the pinkest, prettiest, cunningest little
baby you ever saw!
“Oh, Papa!” cried Rose, clapping her hands. “It wasn’t a dream after
all. I did collect the pieces. Oh, I am so glad!”
Papa looked puzzled, but Rose had no time now to explain about the
Fairy Queen. She was too busy examining the little pink bundle to see
if it was all there as she had planned. Yes, there were the eyes and
ears, the little hands and nails, all quite evenly matched. This was
no crooked, carelessly patched baby, this little sister of Rose’s. The
fairies had smoothed out all the pieces and made them beautiful, and,
as the Queen had promised, there was not one seam to show how it had
been done. Oh, how proud Rose was of the dear little nose and the pink
mouth! Suddenly her face clouded. The baby had opened its pink mouth
wide to let out a babyish howl, and Rose saw a dreadful sight. There
was not a single tooth there!
“Oh, oh!” cried Rose, “I forgot her _teeth_. And there was my comb
lying on the bureau conveniently all the time. Oh, how careless I was!
Poor little Sister!” and she burst out crying.
Nurse and Papa assured Rose that it was quite fashionable for a baby
to be toothless at first; that the little sister’s teeth would come
soon enough. But Rose could not believe it. She felt sure that she
had spoiled the baby, who would never be quite finished like other
children. It was only when, some months later, Papa and Nurse turned
out to be right and Rose felt the little hard teeth pushing through the
baby’s gums that she became quite happy and relieved.
“I think that this was the Fairy’s doings, too!” said Rose. And indeed,
that did not seem more wonderful than the fact which Rose could never
explain,--that no one had missed the nose of the teakettle, nor the
neck of Mamma’s white vase, nor any of the other things which Rose had
collected to piece the baby. For, like the clock’s hands and face, they
were all in place as usual the very next morning after that exciting
night. But, as Aunt Claire said, of course it is useless trying to
explain anything which has to do with the fairies. Is it not so?