Part 15 (1/2)

CHAPTER XI.

JOHNNY'S REVENGE.

Dotty's cross behavior had entirely spoiled the pleasure of the evening for her two sisters. They felt, as they had felt years before, when they saw her, a mere baby, perched upon the wood-box, with her hands and feet tied--they felt that it was a family disgrace.

All these little boys and girls, who had never known before what Dotty's temper was, knew all about it now; they would talk of it to one another; they would go home and tell of it, and remember it forever and ever.

”And, O dear!” thought Susy, ”they won't know she was born so, and can't help it.”

For that this was the case, Susy firmly believed.

”I've got it written in my journal,” thought Prudy, ”how she promised to swallow it down; but Dotty isn't well, and that's the reason she can't remember.”

Both the sisters knew that Dotty had left the parlors, and they were very glad of it. They did not attempt to follow her. They did not know precisely where she had gone, but presumed she was pouting somewhere.

That there could be danger of any sort for the poor child in that house they never dreamed. Neither did Mr. or Mrs. Parlin dream it, or they would have walked home a little faster from their visit to the white tents on Green Street.

The games went on as usual, and were quite as amusing to the guests as if they had not been very poor ones indeed. Susy and Prudy need not have feared that the little people would not have a good time; the ”surprise party” was a perfect success, and Dotty's ill-humor made no one unhappy but her sensitive sisters. Meanwhile the wretched child was lying on the pantry floor, thinking very confused thoughts.

”I wish I was dead. No I don't. I'm too wicked. But I wasn't any wickeder 'n that girl. She said Susy Parlin had a bad sister. What made her say that? She knew I'd hear. I'm glad I shook her. No, I'm sorry. It was murder--the Bible says so. Johnny murdered too--murdered me. He called me a 'cross party.' That was a story. Johnny's wickeder 'n ever _I_ was.

”Prudy thought I ought to be a baby. Percy thought so. He said, 'I devise you to let that child alone.' I'm going to let _him_ alone! All the time! Did I want to fall off that yardstick, right into the tolly-blow?

”There's Prudy: she can be good; it doesn't hurt her. It hurts _me_ to be good; it tires me all up.

”And here it is, as dark as a pickpocket.” (Dotty raised her head and took a survey.) ”Why, the moon can't get here, nor the sun. Is this down cellar? No, I didn't see any stairs. Where did I go to when I came? I walked right on the floor. What floor? Was it the dining-room, or was it out doors? I didn't look at it to see.

”This is a 'cuddy.' There's ever so many 'cuddies' in this house to hide in. I've gone and hid. n.o.body'll ever find me. My father'll say, 'Why, where's that child?' And my mother'll say, 'I don't know.' And they'll hunt all over the house; and I shall keep my head in my ap.r.o.n, and won't say a word.

”Then Prudy'll say, 'O, my darling sister Dotty! How sweet and good she was!'

”And they'll think I'm dead! And Susy'll cry out loud, and tell Percy, and he'll say, 'O, how sorry I am I said ”I devise you to let that child alone”!'”

Dotty sighed as she pictured to herself Percy's conscience-stricken face.

”And that girl that called me a bad sister--how _she'll_ feel! And Johnny--I guess Johnny won't say 'cross party' any more!

”Grandma--why, grandma'll read the Bible. And O, such a time!

”That Angeline girl will remember how she rocked that darling Dotty, and told me stories.”

Dotty was seized with a sudden s.h.i.+vering. The stories came back to her mind vividly. If Angeline had told her simple little tales of every-day life, Dotty might have forgotten them; but, like all children, she had an active imagination, and anything marvellous or horrible made a deep impression.

The current of her thoughts was changed as soon as she remembered those unknown ghosts of Angeline's description.

”All white, wrapped in a sheet. Put a knife through, and they don't know it. No blood, no bones, no anything. Go through a keyhole. Will they, though? Prudy don't believe it. Am I anywhere near a keyhole? I don't know. I've gone and hid, and I can't find myself. I'm somewhere, but I don't know where.”

Dotty began to feel very uncomfortable. There was no longer the slightest satisfaction in the thought of frightening the family. She was frightened herself, and with the worst kind of fear--the fear of the supernatural.

”I can't see the leastest thing, and I can't hear anything, either.

Ghosts don't make any noise. May be there are some in this house: been locked up, and the man didn't know it.”