Part 19 (1/2)

I will dig me a garden and plant it with seeds, I will hoe and water it and keep down the weeds; Then perhaps some of these bright summer days, To mamma I can carry big boquets.

CARYL'S PLUM.

”He put in his thumb And pulled out a plum.”

So sang Caryl over the stairs.

”Now if HE pulled out a plum, why shouldn't SHE?” she said to herself, halting a bit by the landing window. ”And a good big plum too--nice and juicy. O Aunt Sylvia, Aunt Sylvia!”

She fairly hugged herself in glee, then drew one long breath and dashed on to her own poor little room.

”Oh, you here, Viny?” she exclaimed in surprise as she flung open the door.

A small figure rose to a perpendicular position in front of the old bureau, while a shoving-to of the under drawer proclaimed some attention having been paid to the pretty laces, ribbons, and various other adornments packed away for safe keeping.

Caryl remembered leaving the key in the drawer after taking out a bit of lavender ribbon the night before for Aunt Sylvia's cap.

”What have you been doing?” she asked sharply; and taking hold of the small wiry shoulder, she looked down into a little black face whose eyes were staring solemnly into the farthest corner of the room.

”Ben doin'?” repeated Viny, scared almost to death inwardly, but preserving a cool exterior. ”Nothin', only shettin' the draw'; plaguey thing wouldn't stay put. Tore my dress,” she added mumblingly to fill out the pause.

”Where?” said Caryl, looking sharply at her.

”Dar,” said Viny, with a violent twist, so that she could compa.s.s the back breadths of her blue gingham frock, and she pointed abruptly to a cat-a-cornered rent.

”Oh, no, you didn't,” contradicted Caryl, looking her through and through, and giving her a small shake, ”tear that either; I heard Maum Patty scold you yesterday for letting Jip bite it and snip out a piece.”

”Well, somefin tore,” said Viny. ”I donno whar 'tis, but it's somewhars.

A mighty smart tare, too, Miss Ca.”

”I'll lock, and lock, and lock,” declared the young girl, now down on her knees before her precious drawer, ”before I run the chance of your rummaging fingers getting here again. Now then, Viny!”

”Yes'm,” said the little black girl obsequiously, and rolling her eyes to all quarters; ”Oh, yes'm!”

”We are going to move, Viny,” said her young mistress, taking the key out of its lock, and turning her back on drawers and contents, to sit on the floor with hands folded in her lap while she watched the effect of her words.

”MOVE?” echoed Viny with a start; ”Oh, lawks! whatever's dat, Miss?”

”Why, go to a new place,” said Caryl, laughing in spite of herself. ”For mercy's sake, child, do take your eyes in! It'll be very fine, Viny, oh, so fine!” she cried enthusiastically.

”An' lib here nebber no mo'?” cried the little black figure in a shrill scream; ”wot, an' hev no leaky sink dat keps me a-swas.h.i.+n' and a-swas.h.i.+n', an' no old ruf dat lets in hull buckets full o' water onter de bed, an'--”

”No,” said Caryl, interrupting the steady stream of invective against the old heuse, ”everything's to be as new and nice and neat as a pin, Viny--sinks and everything else; you can't begin to think how splendid it's to be!”

”I'm goin' to tell gramma,” cried Viny, wholly off her balance, ”dis berry same minnit. Lawks! but won't she be tickled to leave the ole sh.e.l.l! Den I'll git my bunnet an' go wid yer, Miss Ca, in tree shakes of a lobster's whisker!”

She scampered in the greatest excitement to the door, when a detaining pull on the end of her long ap.r.o.n, brought her to a full stop.