Part 25 (1/2)
”'Tell it,' urged Phoebe, good-naturedly.
”'Well, then,' I began, desperately,--but I could not say it. I hesitated, and then added, quickly:
”'I said I wondered how Phoebe Dawson always managed to keep herself looking so nice!'
”A little surprised look, then a laugh, went around the cla.s.s. Every one knew that I was not speaking the truth, and I dare say Miss Abbie knew it herself. She cast a very sharp glance at me, but, nevertheless, dismissed the cla.s.s. Every one surrounded me in the cloak-room, laughing, and teasing me about what I had said. But I only waited till Miss Sarah was at liberty, and then I went to her and told her the story. I was very angry, and in a state of great indignation against Miss Abbie, and finally I burst out with, 'She made me tell that lie, herself!'
”'Hus.h.!.+ my dear!' Miss Sarah said, gravely. 'If you think, you will see that the trouble was that your sense of politeness was stronger than your sense of truth. Again, if you hadn't broken the rule about whispering in cla.s.s in the first place, nothing would have happened. So I think we won't blame Miss Abbie. I will tell her about it myself, and nothing more will be said about it to you.'
”I thought Miss Sarah was very good and kind, but my conscience troubled me very much. Phoebe Dawson, too, made me feel thoroughly ashamed of myself. When she came to school the next day she brought me this lovely string of beads, which she said her uncle had brought her home from India.
”'You had all that trouble on my account yesterday,' she said, in her good-natured way, 'so I brought you these to make up. My uncle brings me quant.i.ties of things, so you must take these, to please me,' for, of course, I protested against taking them.
”'You needn't have minded about telling what you really did say,' she went on. 'I know I'm dreadfully untidy, but if I had a mother, or a sister, or any one to look out for me, I'd be different, perhaps,' and her eyes filled with tears.
”Well, I grew very fond of Phoebe Dawson after that, and soon I went to see her. She had a lovely home, full of beautiful things, but everything was as untidy and uncared for as she was herself. Phoebe's mother had died when she was a baby, and her father was a great scholar, who was always buried in his books, and the two servants managed things as they liked. But Phoebe improved very much as she grew older, and we remained friends always.”
”Is she living now?” asked Cricket, turning over the beads with interest.
”No, she died several years ago, and she was the grandmother of your little friend, Emily Drayton.”
”_Was_ she? How funny! And what was the lesson you learned, grandma?”
”You may guess that for yourself,” said grandma, smiling. ”Will you choose again?”
CHAPTER XVI.
TWO LITTLE RUNAWAYS.
Cricket dived into the box again.
”What's in this paper?” she asked.
Grandma took the folded sheet, and carefully opened it. There were two soft curls of bright gold hair, fastened to the middle of it by sealing wax.
”These are two little curls I cut from the children's heads when they were small. _My_ children, I mean. Your mamma's and Auntie Jean's. It was the first time their hair was ever cut, and how badly I felt, to have to have it done!”
”But why did you do it?” asked Cricket.
”Naughty little things! I had to.”
”Oh, _do_ tell me about that. I just love hearing about mamma when she was naughty!” begged Cricket, turning over the soft gold curls. ”It's just exactly like Kenneth's and Helen's, isn't it? And mamma's hair isn't very much darker, now, is it? What a shame you had to cut it!”
”Indeed it was. I was so proud of their lovely hair, and they were such lovely children, everybody said. They were little things. Auntie Jean was nearly five, and your mamma was three. I was visiting my sister in Philadelphia with them both. It was in May, but it was very warm. The children were still in the habit of taking an afternoon nap. One day they were put to bed, as usual, about two o'clock, and my sister and myself went down-town for some shopping. I had a new nursemaid, whom I left in charge, of course. But she was careless, I suppose, and probably went down-stairs to gossip with the other servants.
”Presently the children woke up, and as they found there was no one with them, they slipped off the bed by themselves. They were entirely undressed and in their little night-clothes, with bare feet. They ran around up-stairs for a while, and then, finding n.o.body about, they ran down-stairs. The front door stood ajar, so out they slipped, and pattered away down the street. They were always independent children, and not a bit afraid of anything, so when they found they were out all alone by themselves, they decided to go and 'see uncle.' They had been taken to his office down-town several times. My sister lived in what was then a very quiet part of Philadelphia, and near their home were several vacant lots. The children strayed in here to pick some gra.s.ses and weeds, which they thought were flowers.
”Unfortunately, a lot of burdocks grew there, and, of course, the children picked them, and stuck them together, with great delight.
Probably some of them got caught accidentally in the hair of one of them, for, as far as we could make out from their story afterwards, they twisted them in each other's curls, till there was just a mat of burs, all over their heads. Then, of course, when they tried to take them out, they only made matters worse, so they gave it up and trotted on.