Part 11 (1/2)

”Oh, I like it,” said Mrs. Hunter, pleasantly; ”but don't you think, Mrs. Allen, there is danger of her pounding your piano in pieces?”

But by and by there wasn't so much time for music and play. The busy season had begun, when everybody was making ready for Christmas; and the twin cousins had as much as they could do in talking over what they were _going_ to do, as they sat in each other's lap and looked at their work-baskets.

Flaxie wanted to make a marvellous silk bedquilt for her dear mamma out of pieces as big as a dollar; but, finding there wouldn't be time for that, concluded to buy her a paper of needles, ”if it didn't cost too much.”

Probably there wouldn't have been anything done but talking if Aunt Charlotte hadn't brought out some worsteds and canvas and set the helpless little ones at work upon a holder called the ”Country Cousin.”

They had a hard time over this young lady, and almost wished sometimes that she had never been born; but she turned out very brilliant at last, in a yellow skirt, red waist, and blue bonnet, with a green parasol over her head. After this they had courage to make some worsted b.a.l.l.s for the babies, some cologne mats for their brothers who never used cologne, and some court-plaster cases for somebody else, with the motto, ”I stick to you when others cut you.”

Both the children were tired with all this labor, and Flaxie discovered, after her presents were packed and ready to send off by express, that she didn't feel very well.

”My throat is so sore I can't _swoler_,”--so she wrote on a postal to her mother; for when she was sick she wanted everybody to know it.

Before Aunt Charlotte heard of the sad condition of her throat, she had said she might go with Milly and Johnny and some of the older children in the village, to see the ladies trim the church. But when Flaxie came into the parlor with her teeth chattering, Aunt Charlotte began to fear she ought not to go out.

”Are you so very chilly, my dear?”

”Yes 'm, I am,” replied Flaxie, with a doleful look around the corners of her mouth. ”This house isn't heated by steam like my house where I live, and I'm drefful easy to freeze!” And her teeth chattered again.

Aunt Charlotte looked anxious, as she drew on her gloves.

”My child, you'd better not go to the church, for it's rather cold there.”

”Cold as a barn,” put in Johnny.

”Oh, auntie, do please, lemme go! I'm cold, but it's a _warm_ cold though,” said Flaxie, eagerly; and her teeth stopped chattering.

”I'm sorry, Flaxie, but there's a chill in the air like snow, and if your throat is sore it is much wiser for you to stay at home,” said Aunt Charlotte, gently but firmly, like a good mother who is accustomed to be obeyed by her children.

And poor Flaxie was obliged to submit, though it cut her to the heart when Milly gave her a light kiss and skipped away; and she did think it was cruel in Aunt Charlotte to advise her to go into the nursery and stay with Nancy and the baby. She wished she had never said a word about her throat.

”It don't feel any worse'n a mosquito-bite,” thought she, watching the gay party from the window,--half a dozen ladies and as many children; ”it don't hurt me to swallow either,”--swallowing her tears.

”Hilltop's such a queer place! Not the least speck of steam in the houses! If they had steam, you could go anywhere, if your throat _was_ sore! And I never saw anybody trim a church; and oh, Milly says they'll have _beau_-tiful flowers, and crosses, and things! _I_ never saw anybody trim _anything_--'cept a loaf of cake and flowers on a bonnet.”

Foolish Flaxie, to stand there winking tears into her eyes! _You_ would have known better; you would have gone into the nursery to play with that lovely baby; but there were times, I am sorry to say, when Flaxie really enjoyed being unhappy. So now she stood still, rolling her little trouble over and over, as boys roll a s...o...b..ll, making it larger and larger, till presently it was as big as a mountain.

”Auntie _said_ I might go, and then she wouldn't lemme! Made me stay at home to play with that ole baby! He's squirmy and wigglesome; what do I want to play with _him_ for, when she _said_ I might go? I like good aunties; I don't like the kind that tell lies.

”Oh, my throat _is_ growing sore, and I'm going off up-stairs to stay in the cold, and get sick, 'cause they ought to keep steam; and _then_ I guess auntie'll be sorry!”

I grieve to tell you this about Flaxie, for I fear you will not like a little girl who could be so very naughty.

When the happy party of church-trimmers came home at tea-time, there she was up-stairs in the ”doleful dumps;” and it was a long while before Milly could coax her down.

When she came at last, her face was a sight to behold--all purple, and spotted, and striped; for a fit of crying always gave her the appearance of measles. She consented to take a seat at table, but ate little, said nothing, and gazed mournfully at her plate.

This distressed Aunt Charlotte, but she asked no questions, and tried to keep Johnny talking, so he would not notice his afflicted little cousin.