Dreamikins Arrives
FIBO let his newspaper drop on the grass with a little sigh. It was
hard to read of the big War raging in Flanders, and to know the need
of every man in England to be taking his part in it, and yet to feel
himself out of it all. "Might as well be dead," he muttered, and then
he shook his head at his discontented self.
It was a very hot afternoon, and he had a headache. Grinder lay on his
side panting, with his tongue well out; he was half-asleep. Suddenly
every hair bristled on his back, and he darted off to the house.
"Hears the advent of his enemy, the butcher boy," Fibo said to himself
languidly.
Was it the pattering of leaves from the tree above that he heard behind
him? Suddenly two soft little velvet arms were round his neck. A warm
rose-bud of a mouth was kissing his ear.
"Here I are, Fibo!"
Such a light and gladness came into Fibo's face. In another moment he
had dragged his small niece round where he could see her.
Dreamikins was always a pretty sight. To-day her golden curls, her fair
dainty face with its big blue eyes and long-curled black lashes, her
graceful little figure in its dainty white muslin hat and frock, and
her white socks and shoes, seemed in his eyes to shine with extra glory.
"You're just in time," Fibo said gravely, "to save your Uncle Fibo from
turning into a growling grizzly bear."
"I'm never just too late, are I?" said Dreamikins, dancing up and down
before him in ecstasy.
Dreamikins' grammar was shocking; her uncle never tried to improve it.
"Any news?" asked Fibo carelessly.
That was the question Dreamikins always liked to be asked when she had
been away from him.
Her eyes looked big and solemn. She clasped her two tiny hands,
pressing her finger-tips together, as she did when in terrible earnest
about anything.
"The news this time is good, Fibo. You'll be surprised to hear that
Blacky left me, 'bout two weeks ago. I felt quite alone and mis'able,
and then God gave me a darling little angel Cherubine. She plays with
me all day long, and whispers all night, unless I'm asleep, you know.
And she helps me to be good, you know. I told her how Blacky helped me
to be wicked. I reely got quite tarred of fighting, fighting him all
day long; and Cherubine doesn't put anything wicked into my head at
all."
"Then my naughty scamp is no more, and I have an angel niece," said
Fibo, looking at her reflectively. "I should think Annette doesn't know
herself."
"Well, I aren't exackly an angel yet—not like Cherubine. Would you like
to speak to her, Fibo? She's rather shy, and she gene'lly gets behind
me."
Fibo had made acquaintance with a good many personalities who
accompanied Dreamikins upon her visits to him. The first one was Old
Man Sol. When Dreamikins was three she talked about him. He seemed
rather a harmless old soul, but a great comfort to Dreamikins. She
sometimes called her nurse after she had been put into her cot at
night, because Old Man Sol wanted to be kissed, or tucked up tighter.
She always talked hard to him, and he always helped her in her games.
By and by he faded away, and a shadowy, indescribable Pollybill took
his place. Dreamikins was absolutely happy with this creation of hers.
"Is it a she or a he?" Fibo asked one day.
"It isn't neither," said Dreamikins triumphantly.
"Oh, an 'it,' is it?"
But Dreamikins shook her head. "Pollybill is only Pollybill, and nuffin
else at all. I call Pollybill 'you.'"
"What does 'you' look like?"
"Pollybill has a kitty's eyes, big and round, no cloves, only soft
hair, and can be very little and very big, just what I want. And
Pollybill always says 'Yes' to me, never 'No.'"
Dreamikins could describe this individual no better, and Fibo was
rather glad when Pollybill departed. Then came two or three fairies
and sprites, but none of them ever stayed with her long. Blacky was
a Pixie. He had a long innings, and Dreamikins found him a lovely
scapegoat for all her mischievous propensities.
"I 'sure you it was Blacky made me do it. He pushed me into it, and I
foughted him till I was tarred out."
She had brought Blacky with her to Fibo on her last visit, and he was
glad to think that he had gone for good.
"I'm very glad to welcome you to my house, Cherubine," said Fibo quite
gravely, "and I hope you're going to make a long stay with us."
Dreamikins put her head on one side as if listening to somebody.
"She says she likes me so much, Fibo, that she's going to stay with me
till she takes me to heaven."
"I hope that you and she will grow old together, then," said Fibo.
Dreamikins looked quite shocked.
"Oh, Fibo dear, angels never grow! I'll tell you a little more about
her. Mummy told me I had a guardian angel, so she said I didn't want
any of my 'make ups.' Mummy doesn't unnerstand like you; she always
calls them 'make ups.' So I thought about it a lot, and God told me He
wanted me to be good. It makes Him so uncomfor'ble when I'm naughty. So
I asked Him didn't He think He could send me a darling little angel to
take care of me, instead of the grave grown-up one that always hangs
over children in beds. I asked Him to try to do it, because I must have
somebody to play with. And He said He'd lend me Cherubine. And she
came down, and tucked her wings under my pillow, and kissed me, and we
sleeps together, and when I wake she wakes. And now, please, may I show
her Whiskers? And oh, Fibo dear, are you very glad to see us?"
"Yes, I truly am; and I have a surprise for you. I can keep secrets as
well as you."
Dreamikins danced up and down on her toes.
"Tell us. We're simply dying to hear!"
"I have two real little girls for you to play with."
"Oh, Fibo!"
Dreamikins stopped dancing. She could hardly believe such good news.
"Where? Whose are they?"
"They're not in my pocket," said Fibo, laughing; "but one fine
afternoon your little door opened, and in they crawled from the park."
"Real little girls?"
"Real. They're bigger than you; and they live in the old Hall."
"In the big shut up house? And what's their names?"
"I call them E.E. and B.B.—Elusive Elf and Busy Brain."
Dreamikins nodded approvingly. Then she promptly seated herself on her
uncle's knees.
"Now," she said, with raised finger, "begin at the very first
beginning, and tell me all about them."
Fibo meekly obeyed her. They were talking hard when Annette appeared to
ask if Dreamikins would come in to tea.
"I'm going to have it with Fibo."
"But there's an egg for you," said Annette—"a little brown egg produced
only this morning by Madame Daw from the fat white hen. She has eaten
nothing—not a little morsel, Captain—since her early breakfast. Her
tongue only loves to talk, never to eat."
Dreamikins knitted her brows, then she grandly waved Annette away.
"The egg can come here," she said; "I'm not going to the egg."
Fibo looked at Annette, then at Dreamikins.
"Cherubine," he said slowly, "will you take Dreamikins in to her tea?
I'm not having mine till an hour later, and her body wants some food if
her brain does not."
Dreamikins opened her lips, then shut them tightly. She slipped off her
uncle's knee.
"Just this once," she said, "I'll go; but Cherubine lives without
eating, and she needn't try to make me."
"But you always eat when you come here," said Fibo cheerfully. "And
to-morrow we'll have tea in the garden together, and perhaps we'll have
B.B. and E.E."
"You're a very C.O.," said Dreamikins, laughing, and then she danced
away to the house. Fibo and she had many names they called each other,
and C.O. meant Cunning Ogre.
So the next day Freda and Daffy received an invitation to tea. It came
in a big envelope, and inside was a sketch of Dreamikins dancing up and
down.
"The pleasure of Miss Freda's and Miss Daffy's company is requested
at four o'clock upon the Dower House lawn.
"R.S.V.P.
"N.B.C."
"What does 'N.B.C.' mean?" questioned Nurse, looking at the note
suspiciously through her spectacles.
Freda responded promptly:
"No best clothes! Fibo hates best clothes, and so do we. He's very fond
of 'N.B.C.'"
"Dreamikins has come," said Daffy, with shining eyes. "The postman told
me she came yesterday. Nurse, can we ask Dreamikins to tea one day? We
must ask her back."
"'Tis to be hoped she's not so queer as her name," said Nurse grimly.
"If she be proper behaved I won't go against it."
Freda and Daffy were punctual to the moment. They were obliged to
go round the front way, for Nurse accompanied them to the door; but
Dreamikins had been watching for them and came running to meet them.
She did not seem afraid of Nurse's grimness, but held out her small
hand.
"How do you do? Will you come to tea too? Are you the governess?"
"I'm the young ladies' nurse," said Nurse, in her grand tone. But she
was rather pleased at being taken for a governess.
"No, I'll not come in, thank you; and, Miss Freda and Miss Daffy,
you're to be good children, and I shall expect you back at seven. Jane
will come for you."
She turned away and left them.
Dreamikins stood confronting them for a moment in silence. Then she
smiled seraphically:
"Cherubine and me like you awfully much. Do you think you shall like
us?"
"Fibo said we would," said Daffy cautiously; but Freda caught hold of
Dreamikins' hand.
"If you can play pretence games we'll just love you," she said with
enthusiasm.
Dreamikins led them out into the garden, and for the next hour they
played together. Fibo said he wanted to read, and he would talk to them
later. When tea came out under the shady trees, the three little girls
seemed quite tired and exhausted enough to enjoy the rest.
"We've been through the door into the Wilderness," said Dreamikins,
"we've hunted boars and tigers, and rescued just a few Ogre's
prisoners. And I can run the fastest, but Freda is the strongest, and
Daffy can jump the highest."
They all chattered together as if they had been friends all their lives.
Once Dreamikins got grave.
"We didn't have any soldier fighting, Fibo. Mummy made me promise not
to be playing that. And Cherubine cries when people hurt each other.
She says they never hurt each other in heaven. They don't even scratch
the skin on their knees when they tumble down."
"I suppose they don't have stones," said Daffy thoughtfully.
"The stones are quite soft and velvety," said Dreamikins quickly; "and
sometimes you can eat them; they're sweets, you know."
"That's fairyland," objected Freda. "The Bible doesn't say anything
about sweets."
"No; the streets are paved with gold," said Daffy.
"Nice to slide along on," said Dreamikins contentedly.
Her uncle laughed.
"Oh, you Babes!" he exclaimed.
Dreamikins admonished him with her small finger.
"Don't be a P.D., Fibo. We're not babes—not in the least!"
"What's a P.D.?" asked Daffy curiously.
"Proud Dog!" said Dreamikins. "He's always a P.D. when he calls me a
'Babe.'"
Then she said with a sudden change of tone:
"And now let's talk about the War, Fibo. Cherubine is just having a
nice little nap, so we needn't mind her feelings."
"Anything but that, Dreamikins," said her uncle gravely. "I thank God
daily you little ones are kept in peace and safety."
"We don't talk about it much," said Freda. "Nurse says horrors are
not for nurseries. But Daffy and me want to know what will happen if
everybody kills everybody. Who'll be the soldiers then?"
"God won't let all the peoples be killed," said Dreamikins. "It will
crowd up heaven so all at once, and make it so stuffy!"
Freda and Daffy were not yet accustomed to Dreamikins' speeches. They
stared at her in wonder. Then Daffy ventured to put her right.
"Do you think heaven is a little place? It stretches and stretches like
elastic, and the more people go in the bigger it gets."
Dreamikins' blue eyes looked past Daffy as if she had not heard her.
"And of course if all the men did get killed, the women would go and
finish the War, wouldn't they, Fibo? Mummy would—she wants to be there
now, and I'd get a lovely gun and go with her."
"Oh, you modern child! Leave the War alone," said her uncle. "Let us
talk of Whiskers, or Pixies, or anything but the Bad Bit of Life which
is with us."
"Tell us one of your stories—not a arrygory, because I have to find the
meaning, and it spoils it."
So the little girls settled down, and Fibo told them a wonderful,
nonsensical story about a fat giant with a cough, who was afraid of his
wife and tried to hide his wicked deeds from her, only his cough always
betrayed him. And they listened breathlessly, and when he had finished,
Freda gave a long sigh.
"You are a beautiful story-teller. I could listen all night."
"Yes," said Dreamikins proudly; "Fibo has got a big bump in his head,
he says, which is bigger than other people's, and a little fairy lives
inside it who whispers these stories to him. Sometimes she goes to
sleep, and he can't wake her, and then he says he can't make up stories
by himself, which is a pity."
"Dreamikins is exhausting in her demands," said Fibo. "The more she
hears the more she wants to hear. My poor tongue aches with its
constant wagging."
When seven o'clock came, and Jane appeared, Freda gave a groan.
"I could stay here for ever; couldn't you, Daffy?"
Daffy nodded.
"Yes, even if we had nothing to eat," she said.
And Fibo looked at her with his funny little smile.
"That's a great compliment to Dreamikins and me," he said.
Dreamikins was already arranging in a rapid whisper with Freda a time
of meeting in the park the next day.
"I shall come through the little door," she said, "and we'll all go
wild; shall we?"
Then she added impressively:
"I shall tell Cherubine she mustn't stop us before it's really time."
"What do you mean?" asked Freda.
"Well, before we're really wicked. You see, she has to keep me good.
God sent her to do it."
"Oh!"
Freda looked doubtful. Then her brow cleared.
"She hasn't anything to do with Daffy and me. She can't stop us."
Dreamikins looked at her thoughtfully, but said no more. They kissed
each other, and the sisters walked home feeling they had a new friend.