Part 2 (1/2)
CHAPTER II.
THE UNDERTAKING.
When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars.
”Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There, you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if you haven't thrown away your handkerchief! Here, cry into mine!”
”I didn't want to cry, Hollis; I wanted to laugh,” said the child, wiping her eyes with her doll's cloak. ”When you ride in carriages, you don't get anywhere; but when you ride in the cars, you get there right off.”
”Yes; that's so, my dear. You are in the right of it, as you always are.
Now I am going to turn the seat over, and sit where I can look at you--just so.”
”O, that's just as splendid, Hollis! Now there's only me and Flipperty.
There, I put her 'pellent cloak on wrong; but see, now, I've un-_wrong-side-outed_ it! Don't she sit up like a lady?”
Her name was Flipperty Flop. She was a large jointed doll (not a doll with large joints,) had seen a great deal of the world, and didn't think much of it. She came of a high family, and had such blue blood in her veins, that the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk on. She wore a ”'pellent cloak” and rubber boots, and had a shopping-bag on her arm full of ”choclid” cakes. She was nearly as large as her mother, and all of two years older. A great deal had happened to her before her mother was born, and a great deal more since. Sometimes it was dropsy, and she had to be tapped, when pints of sawdust would run out. Sometimes it was consumption, and she wasted to such a skeleton that she had to be revived with cotton. She had lost her head more than once, but it never affected her brains: she was all the better with a young head now and then on her old shoulders. Her present ailment appeared to be small-pox; she was badly pitted with pins and a penknife. ”I declare I forgot to get a ticket for her,” said Horace. ”What if the conductor shouldn't let her pa.s.s?”
”O, Hollis, but he must?” cried Fly, springing to her feet; ”_I_ shan't pa.s.s athout my Flipperty! Tell the 'ductor 'bout my white mouses died, and I can't go athout sumpin to carry.”
”Pshaw! Dotty Dimple don't carry dolls. She don't like 'em: sensible girls never do.”
”Well, _I_ like 'em,” said Flyaway, nothing daunted. ”You knew it byfore; 'n if you didn't want Flipperty, you'd ought to not come!”
Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power over him. The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free pa.s.s, and would take Flipperty all over the United States.
”Yes, sir, if you please,” said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put the ”free pa.s.s” in Miss Flop's cloak pocket.
After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the depths of her soul.
Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap.
Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin.
”O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as lame all over as I do!”
”Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see.”
”What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?”
said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head.
”O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get 'quainted with Flipperty?”
”Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you dancing all over the car, in this style.”
Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop.
”Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?”