Part 5 (2/2)
Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in watching the different people who sat near them.
”Aren't you glad to come?” said Dotty. ”See that man getting out. What is that little thing he's switching himself with?”
”That's a cane,” replied Horace.
”A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in two.--Prudy, look at that man in the corner; _his_ cane is funnier than the other one.”
Horace laughed.
”That is a pipe, Dotty--a meerschaum.”
”Well, I don't see much difference,” said Miss Dimple; ”New York is the queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!”
Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's attention; and then Flyaway started up, and stood on her tiptoes. The lady's face was painted so brightly that even a child could not help noticing it. It was haggard and wrinkled, all but the cheeks, and those bloomed out like a red, red rose. Flyaway had never seen such a sight before, and thought if the lady only knew how she looked, she would go right home and wash her face.
”What a chee-arming little girl!” said the painted woman, crowding in between Aunt Madge and Flyaway, and patting the child's shoulder with her ungloved hand, which was fairly ablaze with jewels; ”bee-youtiful!”
Flyaway turned quickly around to Aunt Madge, and said, in one of her very loud whispers, ”What's the matter with her? She's got sumpin on her face.”
”Hush,” whispered Aunt Madge, pinching the child's hand.
”But there is,” spoke up Flyaway, very loud in her earnestness; ”O, there is sumpin on her face--sumpin red.”
There was ”sumpin” now on all the other faces in the omnibus, and it was a smile. The lady must have blushed away down under the paint. She looked at her jewelled fingers, tossed her head proudly, and very soon left the stage.
”Topknot, how could you be so rude?” said Horace, severely; ”little girls should be seen, and not heard.”
”But she speaked to me first,” said Flyaway. ”I wasn't goin' to say nuffin, and then she speaked.”
A young gentleman and lady opposite seemed very much amused.
”I'm afraid of your bright eyes, little dear. I'll give you some candy if you won't tell me how I look,” said the young lady, showering sweetmeats into Flyaway's lap.
”Why, I wasn't goin' to tell her how she looked,” whispered Fly, very much surprised, and trying to nestle out of sight behind Horace's shoulder.
When they left the omnibus, the children had a discussion about the painted lady, and could not decide whether they were glad or sorry that Fly had spoken out so plainly.
”Good enough for her,” said Dotty.
”But it was such a pity to hurt her feelings!” said Prudy.
”Who hurted 'em?” asked Fly, looking rather sheepish.
”Poh! her feelings can't be worth much,” remarked Horace; ”a woman that'll go and rig herself up in that style.”
”She must be near-sighted,” said Aunt Madge. ”She certainly can't have the faintest idea how thick that paint is. She ought to let somebody else put it on.”
”But, auntie, isn't it wicked to wear paint on your cheeks?”
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