Part 13 (1/2)

”Nor I either,” said Dotty. ”This house has got a good deal the best places to hide in.”

Mrs. Parlin smiled, in her sweet, contented way. She was thinking how many blessings we can all find in our lot if we only look for them. Not that she would ever have known about the ”nice places to hide in” if the children had not mentioned them.

”Dotty,” said she, ”you may run up and ask grandmother if she will dare drink any coffee to-night.”

Prudy and Dotty tripped up the broad staircase, which wound about so much that Prudy said it twisted her like a string. Katie ran after them, catching her breath.

There sat the dear grandmamma, knitting some winter stockings for Prudy.

There were no curtains at the windows, and the August suns.h.i.+ne fell on her calm face, bathing it with warm light. The carpet had not been put down yet, and the children's feet made a hollow sound on the bare floor.

”Why, grandma,” said Prudy, ”it wouldn't be nice here a bit, only the room has got _you_ in it!”

”Bless thy little heart, Prudence! It will be nice enough here to-morrow night. I wouldn't have thy mother touch it to-day.”

”I've got a gamma to my house,” said Katie, pa.s.sing her little fingers over Mrs. Read's white kerchief; ”but um don't have hang-fiss on um neck.”

”Yes,” said Mrs. Read, in reply to the children's question, ”tell your mother I will take some coffee to-night, and she is very kind to inquire.”

On the whole, the supper that evening was quite a success. Mr. Parlin had come home from business, tired and sad. It was not pleasant for him to turn his steps towards that part of the town: he missed his old home more than ever. But when he entered the strange house, the lonely look left his face; for there in the hall stood his wife and children, awaiting him with smiles of welcome.

”O, papa!” said Dotty, springing into his arms, while her sisters seized him by the coat-sleeves, ”you ought to have a birthday to-night, we've got such a splendid supper!”

”Sthop!” cried Katie. ”_I_'s talking. Cake, and verjerves, and f'owers, and b.u.t.ter!”

”And Susy's been practising the 'Blue Violet's Carol,'” said Prudy.

”Yes, her packus, uncle Ed'ard!”

”And I'll read the paper to you if your eyes ache,” went on Prudy; ”and we are going to be just as happy, papa!”

”An' vindegar canny,” struck in Katie.

”O, hush, now!” whispered Dotty, covering the child's mouth with her handkerchief.

The whole house was fragrant with flowers, and had such a festive appearance, that Mr. Parlin kept exclaiming, ”Ah, indeed!” and stroking his beard. Prudy said she always knew when papa was pleased, for then he always ”patted his whiskers.”

The table was very attractive, and everybody had a fine appet.i.te. After Mr. Parlin had drank a cup of delicious coffee, he no longer remembered that he was tired. He looked upon the merry group around him, and said to his wife,--

”I see, my dear, you are disposed to make the best of our misfortunes.

But, after all, you are not quite as meek as one old lady I heard of once.”

”Please tell it, if it's a story, papa,” said the children.

”Not much of a story; only there were two old women who lived by themselves, and were so very poor that they had nothing in the world to eat but potatoes and salt. One day a friend went to see them, and when he sat down to their humble meal of roasted potatoes, he was moved with pity, and told them he was very sorry to see them so poor.

”Then one of the old ladies rolled up her eyes, and said, 'I was just a-thinkin', neighbor, that this meal is altogether too good for us, we're _so_ unworthy! I only wish the potatoes was froze!'”

The children laughed.