ft 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 SOPHIE MAY'S 
 LITTLE FOLKS' BOOKS. 
 
 Any volume sold separately, 
 
 DOTTY DIMPLE SERIES. -Six volumes, lllustnaod. 
 
 For voaiu!,-, 75 cents. 
 Do^ty Dimple at hsr Grandmother's. 
 Dotty Dimple at Home. 
 
 Dotty Dimple out West. 
 
 Dotty Dimple at Play. 
 
 Dotty Dimple at School. 
 
 Dotty Dimple's Flyaway. 
 
 FLAXIE FRIZZLE STORIES. -Six volumes, lllns- 
 
 trated. Per volume, 75 cents. 
 
 Flaxie Frizzle. Little Pitchers. Flaxie's Kittyleen. 
 
 Doctor Papa. The Twin Cousins. Flaxie Growing Up. 
 
 LITTLE PRUDY STORIES. -Six volumes. Hand- 
 
 soraely Illustrated. Per volume, 75 cents. 
 Little Prudy. 
 
 Little Prudy's Sister Susy. 
 
 Little Prudy's Captain Horace. 
 
 Little Prudy's Story Book. 
 
 Little Prudy's Cousin Grace. 
 
 Little Prudy's Dotty Dimple. 
 
 LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES. -Six 
 
 volumes. Illustrated. Per volume, 75 cents. 
 Little Folks Astray. Little Grandmother. 
 
 Prudy Keeping House. Little Grandfather. 
 
 Aunt Madge's Story. Miss Thistledown. 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 BOSTON.
 
 FLAXIE FRIZZLE STORIES 
 
 FLAXIE GROWING UP 
 
 SOPHIE MAY 
 
 AUTHOR OF LITTLE PRUDY STORIES DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES 
 LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY STORIES ETC 
 
 Xllustratttt 
 
 BOSTON 1895 
 LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 
 
 1884, 
 Y LEE AND SHEPABI 
 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
 VLAXIb CBOW1N6 UF.
 
 TZ7 
 C5S-F 
 
 622708
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER FAGE 
 
 I. PUNISHING ETHEL 7 
 
 II. ASKING FOR "Wmz" 26 
 
 III. THE SPELLING SCHOOL 43 
 
 IV. THE MINISTERS JOKE 59 
 
 V. CHINESE bAuiEb 76 
 
 VI. OLD BLUFF 91 
 
 VII. CAMP COMFORT 109 
 
 VIII. PUDDING AND PIES 128 
 
 IX. THE HAILSTORM 145 
 
 X. Miss PIKE'S STORY 160 
 
 XI. DINING OUT 17? 
 
 XII. CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF 191
 
 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 
 
 " STOP, Ethel," said Mary Gray authorita- 
 tively, " stop this moment, you are skipping 
 notes." 
 
 The child obeyed gladly, for music was by 
 no means a passion with her, and she espe- 
 cially disliked practising when Mary's sharp 
 eye was upon her. 
 
 " I 'm obliged to be severe with you, Ethel, 
 for it never will do to allow you to play care- 
 lessly. You are worse than usual this morn- 
 ing, because Kittyleen is waiting in the 
 dining-room. It's very unfortunate that 
 
 7 -
 
 8 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Kittyleen has to come here in your prac- 
 ii.sing hour, anJ it makes it pretty hard for 
 me ; but what do you think or care about 
 that ? If you ever learn to play decently, 
 Ethel Gray, 't will be entirely owing to me, 
 and your teacher says so. There ! run off 
 now and play with Kittyleen ; but, remem- 
 ber, you '11 have to finish your practising 
 this afternoon." 
 
 Ethel made her escape, and Mary seated 
 herself in the bay-window at her sewing with 
 a deep sigh of responsibility. Her mother 
 was ill ; Julia, the eldest of the family, was 
 confined to her room with headache, and the 
 children had been left in Mary's care this 
 morning with strict charges to obey her. 
 
 "The children" were Philip, a boy of 
 eight and a half, and Ethel, a little girl 
 nearly six ; but as Phil was now skating on 
 the pond, and Ethel playing dolls in the
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 9 
 
 dining-room with her young friend, Kittyleen 
 Garland, Mary was free to pursue her own 
 thoughts, and her work was soon lying idly 
 in her lap, while she looked out of the win- 
 dow upon the white front yard facing the 
 river. 
 
 Tnere was no one in the room with her 
 but her grandmother, who sat knitting in 
 an easy-chair before the glowing coal fire. 
 Grandma Gray did not seem to grow old. 
 Father Time had not stolen away a single 
 one of her precious graces. He had not 
 dimmed her bright eyes or jarred her gentle 
 voice ; the wrinkles he had brought were 
 only " ripples," and the g^ray hair he had 
 given her was like a beautiful silver crown. 
 
 Grandma looked up from her knitting ; 
 Mary looked up from her sewing. Their 
 eyes met, and they both smiled. 
 
 "A penny for your thoughts, my child."
 
 IO FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Oh, I was only thinking, grandma, it does 
 seem as if something might be done to pre- 
 vent people from calling me Flaxie Frizzle 
 I 'm just worn out with it. It did very well 
 when I was a little child ; but now that I 'm 
 twelve years old, I ought to be treated with 
 more respect. It 's very silly to call people 
 by anything but their real, true names ; 
 don't you think "so? Oh, here comes the 
 Countess Leonora ! " cried Mary in a dif- 
 ferent tone, dropping her work, breaking her 
 needle, and pricking her finger, all in a sec- 
 ond of time. 
 
 "Who? I didn't understand you, dear." 
 " Oh, it 's only Fanny Townsend, grandma. 
 We have fancy names for each other, we 
 girls, and Fanny's name is Countess Leo- 
 nora," cried Mary, quite unaware that there 
 was anything " silly " in this, or that grand- 
 ma was amused by her inconsistent remarks.
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 1 1 
 
 The dear old lady smiled benevolently as a 
 small figure in a brown cloak rushed in, 
 breathless from running. It was not Fanny 
 Townsend and Mary Gray, it seemed, who 
 began to chat together in the bay-window, 
 but the Countess Leonora, and her friend, 
 Lady Dandelina Tangle. Lady Dandelina 
 was telling the Countess that her mother 
 and sister were ill, and that she was left in 
 charge of the castle. 
 
 " Don't you miss your brother Preston so 
 mncli, Lady Dandelina ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do, Countess ; but young men 
 are obliged to go to college, you know. And 
 I can bear it better because my cousin, Fred 
 Allen, of Hilltop, is with us. He will stay, 
 I don't know how long, and go to school. I 
 only wish it was my sister Milly ! " 
 
 " So do I, Lady Dandelina. Oh, I saw that 
 old teacher of ours, Mr. Fling, as I was
 
 12 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 coming here. He stood on the hotel-piazza 
 talking with Miss Pike." 
 
 " Mr. Fling ? " said Mary, laughing. She 
 had dropped her work, for how could she 
 sew without a needle ? 
 
 " Yes ; and said he, ' How 's your health, 
 Miss Fr-an-ce-s ? ' as if I 'd been sick. I like 
 him out of school, Dandelina ; but in school 
 he used to be sort of hateful, don't you 
 know ? " 
 
 " Not exactly hateful," replied Mary, steal- 
 ing a glance at grandma. " / call it trouble- 
 some." 
 
 " Yes ; how he would scold when we got 
 under the seat to eat apples ? " 
 
 " Oh, I never ate but one apple, Fan, I 'm 
 sure I never did. I was pretty small then, 
 too. How queer it is to think of such old 
 times !" 
 
 " Why, Flaxie, 't was only last winter ! "
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. ' 13 
 
 " Arc you sure, Fan ? I thought 't was 
 ever so long ago." 
 
 " Your reminiscences are very interesting, 
 my dears," said grandma, rising. " I wish I 
 could hear more, but I shall be obliged to go 
 up stairs now, and leave your pleasant com- 
 pany." 
 
 As the serene old lady passed out at one 
 door, little Ethel, very much excited, rushed 
 in at another ; but the girls, engrossed in 
 conversation, did not look up, and she stood 
 for some time unheeded behind Mary's chair. 
 
 " I want to ask you, Flaxie " she said. 
 
 " Mr. Fling and Miss Pike were talking 
 about a spelling-school," said Fanny, emerg- 
 ing from "old times" at a bound. "She's 
 going to have an old-fashioned one out in her 
 school at Rosewood to-morrow night." 
 
 " I want to ask you, Flaxie " repeated 
 Ethel.
 
 14 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " They ' choose sides.' Do you know what 
 that is?" 
 
 " No, I 'm sure I don't. I wish Preston 
 was here, and he 'd take me out in the 
 sleigh. Miss Pike would let onr family go, 
 of course." 
 
 "I want to ask you " said little Ethel 
 again. 
 
 "Why, Ethel, child, I thought you were 
 in the other room," said Mary impatiently. 
 " Don't you see, I want to hear about the 
 spelling-school ; and it 's so thoughtful and 
 kind of little girls to give big girls a chance 
 to speak ! " 
 
 But next moment, ashamed of her ill- 
 nature, and remembering her maternal re- 
 sponsibility, she drew Ethel to her side and 
 kissed her. 
 
 "Wait a minute, Leonora, till we find out 
 what this means," said she, surprised to see
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 15 
 
 hf c usually quiet little sister in this wild 
 st.xte. "Tell me all about it, dear." 
 
 Thus encouraged, Ethel broke forth indig- 
 nantly, " Kittyleen is very disagreeable ! 
 And besides, she knocked me down ! " 
 
 Fanny began to laugh. " Oh, what a Kit- 
 tyleen ! " 
 
 " Hush, Fan," said Mary, warningly, draw- 
 ing up her mouth like grandma's silk " work- 
 pocket." " It does n't seem possible, Ethel. 
 I never heard of Kittyleen's behaving 
 so before. What had you done to vex 
 her ? " 
 
 "I I knocked her down first," con- 
 fessed Ethel, in low, faltering tones. 
 
 And Fanny laughed again. 
 
 "Fanny Townsend, do be quiet. I have 
 the care of this child to-day. Ethel, where 
 is Kittyleen?" 
 
 " Gone home."
 
 1 6 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Ah. Ethel, Ethel, it will be my duty to 
 punish you. Fanny, can you be quiet ? " 
 
 " You punish her? Oh dear, that's too 
 funny ! " 
 
 " Yes, I have full authority to punish her 
 if I choose," said Mary, elevating her chin. 
 
 She was subject to little attacks of dig- 
 nity ; but instead of being duly impressed, 
 Fanny only laughed the more, while shame- 
 faced little Ethel hid her head and felt that 
 she was trifled with. 
 
 " May I ask what amuses you, Miss Town- 
 send ? " said Mary, with increased dignity. 
 
 " Oh don't, oh dear, what shall I do ? 
 You 're so queer, Flaxie Frizzle ! " 
 
 " Well, if you go on in this way, I shall be 
 obliged to take Ethel out of the room. 
 Have you no judgment at all, Fanny Town- 
 send ? " 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear, I shall die laughing !
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. I/ 
 
 shall have to go home ! If you could see 
 just how you look, Flaxie Frizzle! Good-by. 
 I can't help it," said Fanny, reeling out of 
 the door. 
 
 Mary drew a long sigh. " Now come to 
 me, Ethel. This is a dreadful thing, and 
 you 're a perfectly awful child ; but it will 
 not do to speak to mother about it, when she 
 has pneumonia, and a blister on the chest. 
 She said / must take care of you." 
 
 Ethel did not stir. Mary paused and 
 gazed reproachfully across the room at her, 
 not knowing in the least what to say next. 
 She had never before undertaken a case of 
 discipline, and rather wondered why it 
 should be required of her now. But she had 
 been given "full authority over the chil- 
 dren," and what did that mean if she was 
 not to punish them when they did wrong ? 
 
 To be sure Julia's headache might be over
 
 1 8 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 to-morrow, and Julia could then attend to 
 Ethel ; but Mary was quite sure it would 
 not do to wait an hour or a minute ; the 
 case must be attended to now. " It is my 
 duty, and I will not shrink from it. I '11 
 try to act exactly as mamma always does, 
 not harsh, but sad and gentle, Ethel, my 
 child, come here." 
 
 " Don't want to," said Ethel, approaching 
 slowly and sullenly, drawing her little chair 
 behind her. 
 
 " Not that way, dear ; mamma never allows 
 you to go all doubled up, dragging your chaii 
 like a snail" with his house on his back. 
 There, sit down and tell me about it. What 
 made you so naughty? " 
 
 " My head aches. Don't want to talk." 
 
 " Were you playing dolls ? " 
 
 " Yes. Pep'mint Drop is jiggly and won't 
 sit up."
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 19 
 
 " Peppermint Drop . is very old and has 
 rheumatism, Ethel ; she was my dolly before 
 ever you were born." 
 
 " Well, my head aches. Don't want to 
 talk." 
 
 "But you must talk. I'm your mother 
 to-day." 
 
 "You?" Ethel looked up saucily, and 
 Mary felt half inclined to laugh ; but when 
 one has the care of a young child one must 
 be firm. 
 
 " Ethel, I am your mother to-day. What 
 were you doing with those dolls?" 
 
 " Nothing ! Kittyleen pulled off Pep'- 
 mint's arm." 
 
 " Yes, and then ? " 
 
 "Then she was cross." 
 
 "No, no. What did you do to her?" 
 
 "Tipped her over." 
 
 "Ethel! Ethel!"
 
 2O . FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 "Well, she tipped me over too." 
 "This is perfectly dreadful!" exclaimed 
 Mary, as solemnly as if she had never heard 
 it before. And then she sat in deep thought. 
 What would mamma have done in this case ? 
 Did Ethel's head ache? Possibly. Her 
 cheeks looked hot. Mamma was tender of 
 the children when they were ill, and perhaps 
 would not approve of shutting Ethel in the 
 closet if she had taken cold. 
 
 " Ethel," said Mary in natural tones, " I 'm 
 going to be very sweet and gentle. You 've 
 been extremely to blame, but perhaps Kitty- 
 leen may forgive you if you ask her." 
 " H'm ! Don't want her to ! " 
 " What ! Don't want her to forgive you ? " 
 " No, I don't ; Kittyleen was bad herself ! " 
 " But you were bad first, Ethel." 
 " H'm ! If I ask her to forgive me she'll 
 think she was good ! "
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 21 
 
 Mary looked at stubborn Ethel sorrowfully. 
 Oh, how hard it was to make children repent ! 
 
 " Perhaps I 'd better leave her by herself 
 to think. Mamma does that sometimes." 
 Then aloud : " Ethel, I 'm now going into 
 the kitchen, and I wish you to sit here and 
 think till I come back." 
 
 " No, you must n't ; my mamma won't 
 allow you to shut me up, Flaxie ! " 
 
 " But I 'm not shutting you up ; I only 
 leave you to think." 
 
 " Don't know how to think." 
 
 " Yes, you do, Ethel, you think every time 
 you wink." 
 
 "Well, may I wink at the clock then?" 
 asked the child, relenting, for it was one of 
 her delights to sit and watch the minute-hand 
 steal slowlv over the clock's white face. 
 
 " Y. < r ~" "".ay, if y^u '11 Veep saying over 
 and over, while it ticks, 'I 've been a naughty
 
 22 FLAXIF. GROWING UP. 
 
 girl a naughty girl ; mamma '11 be sorry, 
 mamma '11 be sorry.'" 
 
 " Well, I will, but hurry, Flaxie ; don't be 
 gone long." 
 
 In fifteen minutes Mary returned to find 
 the child in the same spot ; her eyes pinker 
 than ever with weeping. 
 
 " Just the way I used to look when mamma 
 left me alone," thought Mary, encouraged. 
 
 "Well, Ethel," with a grown-up folding of 
 the hands which would have convulsed 
 Fanny Townsend. " Well, have you been 
 thinking, dear ?" 
 
 "Yes, and I'll tell mamma about it; I 
 shan't tell you." 
 
 " Mamma is very sick, my child." 
 
 " Then I '11 tell Ninny." Ninny was the 
 children's pet name for Julia. 
 
 " No, Ninny has a headache. I 'm your 
 mamma this afternoon. And I won't be
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. PAGE 17.
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 23 
 
 cross to you, darling," added Mary, with 
 humility, recalling some of her past lectures 
 to this little sister. 
 
 " Well," said Ethel faintly, with her apron 
 between her teeth. " I was n't very bad to 
 Kittyleen, but if she wants to forgive me 
 I '11 let her." 
 
 " O sweetest, you make me so happy I " 
 
 "Don't want to make j0// happy," returned 
 Ethel disdainfully ; " don't care anything 
 about you! But mamma's sick. And you 
 won't you write her a letter?" 
 
 " Write mamma a letter ? " 
 
 " No, Kittyleen, write it with vi'let ink, 
 won't you, Flaxie ? " 
 
 The note was very short and written just 
 as Ethel dictated it : 
 
 MY AFFECTIONATE FRIEND, I am very sorry 
 I knocked you clown first. I will forgive you if you 
 will forgive me. 
 
 ETHEL GRAY.
 
 24 - FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Ethel meant just this,' no .more, no less. 
 She was sorry ; still, if she had done wrong 
 so had Kittyleen ; if she needed forgiveness 
 Kittyleen needed it also. 
 
 "Now, put something in the corner," said 
 she, looking on anxiously, as Mary directed 
 the envelope. " You always put something 
 in the corner of your notes, Flaxie ; I 've 
 seen you, and seen you." 
 
 "Do I? Oh yes, sometimes I put 'kind- 
 ness of Ethel ' in the corner, but that is 
 whenjw< carry the note." 
 
 " Put it there now." 
 
 " But are you going to carry the note ? " 
 
 " No, Dodo will carry it if I give her five 
 kisses." 
 
 "Then, I '11 write 'Kindness of Dora.' " 
 
 " No, no, I 'm the one that 's kind, not 
 Dodo," insisted the child. 
 
 And "Kindness of Ethel " it had to be in 
 the corner in large, plain letters.
 
 PUNISHING ETHEL. 25 
 
 Dora laughed when she read it, and Mary 
 smiled indulgently. 
 
 Kittyleen did not smile, however, for she 
 did not know there was any mistake. She 
 accepted Ethel's doubtful apology with joy, 
 and made her nurse Martha write in reply, 
 "I forgive you." And in the left-hand 
 corner of Jicr envelope were the words 
 " Kindness of Kittyleen," for she supposed 
 that was the correct thing, and she never 
 allowed Ethel to be more fashionable than 
 herself if she could possibly help it. 
 
 Mary felt that on the whole her first case 
 of discipline had resulted successfully, and 
 was impatient for to-morrow to come, that 
 her mother might hear of it and give her 
 approval.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ASKING FOR " WHIZ." 
 
 NEXT day Mrs. Gray was somewhat bet- 
 ter, and when Mary knocked softly at the 
 chamber door, Julia replied, "Come in.' 
 The little girl had not expected to see her 
 mother looking so pale and ill ; and the tears 
 sprang to her eyes as she leaned over the 
 bed to give the loving kiss which she meant 
 should fall as gently as a dewdrop on the 
 petal of a rose. It did not seem a fitting 
 time for the question she had come to ask 
 about the spelling-school. Julia was brush- 
 ing Mrs. Gray's hair, and Mary kissed the 
 dark, silken locks which strayed over the 
 26
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 2/ 
 
 pillow, murmuring, " Oh, how soft, how beau- 
 tiful ! " 
 
 " Well, my dear," said Mrs. Gray, with an 
 affectionate smile, which lacked a little of 
 its usual brightness, " how did you get on 
 yesterday with Ethel ? She is such a quiet 
 little thing that I 'm sure you had no 
 trouble." 
 
 ".No trouble!" Mary's look spoke vol- 
 umes. " I suspect there 's some frightful 
 revelation coming now," said Julia. " Did 
 you irritate her, Flaxie ? " For Ethel's qui- 
 etness was not always to be relied upon. 
 She was like the still Lake Camerino of 
 Italy, which so easily becomes muddy that 
 the Italians have a proverb, " Do not disturb 
 Camerino." Dr. Gray often said to Mary, 
 when he saw her domineering over her little 
 sister, " Be careful ! Do not disturb Cam- 
 erino."
 
 28 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " No, indeed, Ninny, I was very patient," 
 replied Mary with pride. " But for all that I 
 had to punish her!" 
 
 Mrs. Gray turned her head on her pillow, 
 and looked at Mary in astonishment. 
 
 " Did you think I gave you authority to 
 punish your little sister ? That would have 
 been strange indeed ! I merely said she and 
 Philip were to obey you during the after- 
 noon." 
 
 Mary felt a sudden sense of humiliation, 
 all the more as Julia had suspended the hair- 
 brush, and was looking down on her deri- 
 sively or so she fancied. 
 
 "Why, mamma, I must have misunder- 
 stood you. I thought it was the same as if I 
 was Julia, you know." 
 
 "Julia is eighteen years old, my child. 
 You are twelve. But what had Ethel done 
 that was wrong ? "
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 29 
 
 Then Mary told of the quarrel with Kitty- 
 leen, and the notes which had passed be- 
 tween the two little girls. Though naturally 
 given to exaggeration, she had been so care- 
 fully trained in this regard that her word 
 could usually be taken now without " a grain 
 of salt." 
 
 Mrs. Gray looked relieved and amused. 
 
 " So that was the way you punished youi 
 little sister ? I was half afraid you had been 
 shutting her up in the closet, or possibly 
 snipping her fingers, either of which things, 
 my child, I should not allow." 
 
 "No, ma'am." Mary felt like a queen de- 
 throned. 
 
 "You were 'clothed with a little brief au- 
 thority ' yesterday, to be sure, but you should 
 have waited till to-day and reported any mis- 
 behavior to me, or if I was too ill to hear 
 it to Julia.".
 
 3<D FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Yes, mamma," said Mary meekly. 
 
 " Not that I blame you for this mistake, 
 dear. You have shown judgment and self- 
 control, and no harm has been done as yet, I 
 hope. Only remember, if you are left to 
 take care of the children again, you are 
 not the one to punish them, whatever they 
 may do." 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," repeated Mary ; but her 
 face had brightened at the words "judgment 
 and self-control." 
 
 " I am afraid Ethel's repentance does n't 
 amount to much," said Julia. 
 
 " I thought of that myself. I 'm afraid it 
 does n't," admitted Mary. 
 
 She watched the brush as it passed slowly 
 and evenly through her mother's hair. Her 
 color came and went as if she were on the 
 point of saying something which after all 
 she found it hard to say.
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 31 
 
 "Mamma, Miss Pike is going to have 
 spelling-school to-night." 
 
 Mrs. Gray's eyes were closed ; she did not 
 appear to be listening. 
 
 " It 's in her schoolhouse at Rosewood, 
 and anybody can go that chooses." 
 
 " Ah ? " 
 
 "Papa isn't at home this morning." A 
 pause. " And Fred Allen and I Now, 
 mamma, I 'm afraid you '11 think it is n't 
 quite best ; but there 's a moon every night 
 now ; and did you ever go to an old-fash- 
 ioned spelling-school, where they choose 
 sides ? " 
 
 " Flaxie, don't make that noise with the 
 comb," said Julia. " I suppose you and Fred 
 would like the horse and sleigh, and Fred 
 has n't the courage to ask father ; is that it ?" 
 
 "Oh, may we go, mamma? Please may 
 ve go ? "
 
 32 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " What, to Rosewood in the evening 
 two miles ? " 
 
 " Oh, I wish I had n't asked you. I wisn 
 I had n't asked you ; I mean I wish you 
 would n't answer now, not till I tell you 
 something more." 
 
 " Well, I will not answer at all ; I leave it 
 to your father." 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that ; I don't want you 
 to leave it to papa." 
 
 " Flaxie," remonstrated Julia, " can't you 
 see that you are tiring mother ? " 
 
 " I won't tire her, Ninny. I only want her 
 to think a minute about Whiz, how old he is 
 and lame. He does n't frisk as he used to, 
 does he, mamma ? And I 'm sure Miss Pike 
 will want me at her spelling-school, we 're 
 such friends. And Fanny Townsend is 
 going, and lots and lots of girls of my 
 age."
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 33 
 
 " My clear, I leave it entirely to your 
 father," said Mrs. Gray wearily. 
 
 " Yes, mamma ; but if you '11 talk to him 
 first, and say Fred 's afraid to ask him, and 
 and Whiz is so old " 
 
 Julia frowned and pointed to the door. 
 Mary ought to have needed no second 
 warning. She might have seen for herself 
 the conversation was too fatiguing. 
 
 " What does make me so selfish and heed- 
 less and forgetful and everything that 's 
 bad," thought she, rushing down-stairs. " I 
 love my mother as well as Ninny does, and 
 am generally careful not to tire her ; but if 
 I once forget they think I always forget, and 
 next thing papa will forbid my going into her 
 room." 
 
 Fred stood by the bay window awaiting 
 his cousin's report. 
 
 " O Fred, I don't know yet ; mamma is n't
 
 34 FLAXIE GROWING UP. , 
 
 well enough to be talked to, and we '11 have 
 to wait till papa comes home. Perhaps papa 
 won't think you are too young to drive Whiz 
 just out to Rosewood. It isn't like going 
 to Parnassus, ten miles; you know he did n't 
 allow that." 
 
 " Pretty well too if a fellow fourteen years 
 old can't be trusted with that old rack-o- 
 bones," said the youth scornfully, remem- 
 bering that Preston at his age had driven 
 Whiz ; but then Preston and Fred were 
 different boys. 
 
 " Well, I '11 be the one to ask him," said 
 Mary. " Should n't you think the moon 
 would make a great difference? /should." 
 
 It was while Dr. Gray was carving the 
 roast beef at dinner that Mary came out 
 desperately with the spelling-school question. 
 He seemed to be thinking of something else 
 at first, bat when brought to understand
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 35 
 
 what she meant, he said Miss Pike was a 
 sensible woman, and he approved of her, 
 and Mary and Fred " might go and spell 
 the whole school down if they could."" 
 
 This was beyond all expectation. Fred 
 looked gratified, and Mary, slipping from her 
 chair, sprang to her father and gave him a 
 sudden embrace, which interfered with his 
 carving and almost drove the knife through 
 the platter. 
 
 All the afternoon her mind was much 
 agitated. What dress should she wear ? Did 
 Ninny think mother would object to the best 
 bonnet? And oh, she ought to be spelling 
 every moment ! Would n't grandma please 
 ask her all the hard words she could possibly 
 think of ? 
 
 Grandma gave out a black list, elee- 
 mosynary, phthisic, poniard, and the like, 
 and though Mary sometimes tripped, she did
 
 36 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 admirably well. Logomachy, anagrams, and 
 other spelling games were popular in the 
 Gray family, and all the children were good 
 spellers. Dr. Gray said, " They tell us that 
 silent letters are to be dropped out of our 
 language, and then the words will all look 
 as they sound ; but this has not been done 
 yet, and meanwhile it is well to know how 
 to spell words as they are printed now." 
 
 Julia was in her mother's room, and Mary 
 was left again with the care of the children ; 
 but in her present distraction she quite for- 
 got Ethel, and the child, left to her own 
 devices, managed to get the lamp-scissors 
 and cut off her hair. The zigzag notches, 
 bristling up in all directions, were a droll 
 sight. 
 
 " Oh, you little mischief," cried Mary, 
 angry, yet unable to help laughing. "This 
 all comes of my reading you the story of the
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 37 
 
 ' Nine Little Goslings ' yesterday. Tell me, 
 was that what made you think of it ? " 
 
 Ethel nodded her sheared head silently. 
 
 "Oh, you dreadful child. When I was try- 
 ing so hard to interest you ! / did n't want to 
 read to you ! And to think you must go and 
 do this ! What do people mean by calling 
 you good ? I never cut off my hair, but no- 
 body ever called me good ! " 
 
 Mary was seized again with laughter, but, 
 recovering, added sternly : 
 
 " It 's very hard that I can't shut you in 
 the closet, but you '11 get there fast enough ! 
 Yes, I shall report you, and into the closet 
 you '11 go, Miss Snippet. Oh, you need n't 
 cry ; you 're the worst-looking creature in 
 town, but the blame always falls on me ! 
 Just for thoje ' Nine Little Goslings.' And 
 here was I working so hard to get ready 
 for spelling-school and
 
 38 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 The jingle of sleigh-bells put a sudden 
 stop to this eloquence. Ethel wiped her 
 eyes and stole to the window without speak- 
 ing. She was usually dumb under reproof, 
 and perhaps it was her very silence which 
 encouraged Mary to deliver " sermonettes," 
 though I fear these sermonettes hardened 
 instead of softening little Ethel's heart. 
 The young preacher was smiling enough, 
 however, when she went out to enter the 
 sleigh ; and Julia, who tucked her in, looked 
 as if she were trying her best not to be 
 .proud of her bright young sister. Mary 
 felt very well pleased with herself in her 
 new cloak and beaver hat, with its jaunty 
 feather ; but she was not quite satisfied with 
 cousin Fred. 
 
 " He can't drive half as well as Preston ; 
 and, worse than that, he does n't know how 
 to spell," thought she, as they drove on in
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. 39 
 
 time to the merry music of the bells. They 
 had gone about half a mile, and Fred had 
 used the whip several times with a lordly 
 flourish, always to the great displeasure of 
 Whiz, when they were suddenly brought to a 
 pause by a loud voice calling out, 
 
 " Stop ! Hilloa, boy, stop ! " 
 
 To say that they were both very much 
 frightened would be no more than the truth. 
 Mary's first thought was the foolish one, "Oh, 
 can it be a highway robber ? " while Fred 
 wondered if anything was amiss with the 
 harness. It might be wrong srde upward for 
 aught he knew. 
 
 But they were both alarmed without cause. 
 As soon as Fred could rein in his angry 
 steed, it appeared that the owner of the 
 voice was only Mary's old friend and former 
 teacher, Mr. Harrison Fling, and all he 
 wished to say was,
 
 4O FLAX1E GROWING UP. 
 
 "WeU, Miss Mary and Master Fred, are 
 you going to spelling-school ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Fred, touching his cap ; 
 while Mary hoped nothing had happened to 
 the spelling-school to prevent their going. 
 
 " And may I ride with you ? " asked \;he 
 young man, with a persuasive bow and smile. 
 
 " Yes, sir, if you like," replied Fred, rather 
 relieved to find it was no worse, though cer- 
 tainly not pleased. 
 
 " I '11 drive, of course," said Mr. Fling 
 serenely, seating himself, and taking Mary in 
 his lap. " Master Fred, your aunt will thank 
 me for happening along just as I did, for 
 you were going at breakneck speed. You 
 would have been spilled out at the next 
 corner." 
 
 . Fred's brows were knitted fiercely under 
 his cap. Was it possible that Mr. Fling was 
 regarded as a gentleman ?
 
 ASKING FOR WHIZ. . 4! 
 
 " Miss Flaxie," pursued the interloper, " I 
 hope you 're as glad to see me again as I am 
 to see you. Don't you feel safer now I 've 
 taken the reins ? " 
 
 Mary did not know what reply to make. 
 She was not glad to see him, yet she did feel 
 safer to have him drive. She laughed a 
 little, and the laugh grated unpleasantly on 
 Fred's ears. This was the first time he had 
 ever taken his young cousin to ride, and he 
 thought it would be the last. 
 
 Mr. Fling talked all the way to Miss 
 Pike's school-house, apparently not minding 
 in the least that nobody answered him. 
 " Now, children," said he, lifting Mary out, 
 and planting her upon the door-stone before 
 Fred could offer his hand, " now, children, 
 with your permission, I '11 drive a little far- 
 ther. I 'd like to drop in on a few of my 
 old friends in this neighborhood. Give my
 
 42 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 very best regards to Miss Pike, and tell her 
 I hope to be back in season to hear a little 
 of the spelling." 
 
 " With your permission," indeed ! Fred 
 was incensed. If Mr. Fling had been a per- 
 son of his own age, he would have said to 
 him, and very properly, too, " I have no right 
 to lend Dr. Gray's horse, and you have no 
 right to ask me for him." But as Mr. Fling 
 was at least a dozen years older than himself, 
 such a speech would have been impertinent ; 
 and Fred could only look as forbidding as 
 possible, and preserve a total silence, while 
 Mr. Fling caught up the reins again, and 
 was off arid away without further ceremony. 
 
 " Is n't he a funny man ? " said Mary. 
 " Funny " was not the word Fred would have 
 used.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 
 
 THE spelling-school had not yet begun, but 
 Fanny Townsend and her brother Jack had 
 already arrived, and so had Mr. Garland, 
 and his nephew, Mr. Porter. Miss Pike 
 expressed pleasure at seeing them all, and 
 stood at the desk some time with her arm 
 around Mary's waist, chatting about "old 
 times " at Laurel Grove, at Hilltop, and at 
 Washington. Mary was feeling of late that 
 there were many old times in her life, and 
 that she had lived a long while. She had 
 been quite a traveller, had seen and known a 
 variety of people, but nobody outside her 
 
 43
 
 44 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 own family that is, no grown person, was 
 so dear to her as this excellent young lady, 
 who was known among strangers as " the 
 homely Miss Pike." Mary had attended her 
 school at Hilltop with Milly Allen, and after- 
 ward Miss Pike had been a governess in Dr. 
 Gray's family, and still later had spent a 
 winter with the Grays at Washington. She 
 had a decided fancy for Mary ; and in return 
 the little girl always called Miss Pike her 
 " favorite friend." It is only to be wished 
 that every little girl had just such a "favor- 
 ite friend." 
 
 But it was now time for the exercises to 
 begin. At a tap of the bell everybody was 
 seated. The scholars were nearly all older 
 than Mary, she and Fanny being perhaps the 
 youngest ones there. 
 
 " This is an old-fashioned spelling-match," 
 explained Miss Pike to her visitors, " and we
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 45 
 
 will now announce the names of the two 
 ' captains,' Grace Mallon and James Hun- 
 nicut. They will take their places." 
 
 Upon this James Hunnicut, a large, intel- 
 ligent-looking boy of fifteen, walked to one 
 side of the room and stood against the wall, 
 and Grace Mallon, a sensible young girl of 
 fourteen, walked to the other side of the 
 room, and took her place exactly opposite 
 James. They both looked very earnest and 
 alive. 
 
 Grace had the first choice ; next James ; 
 and so on for some minutes. There was 
 breathless interest in it, for, as the best 
 speilers would naturally be chosen first, the 
 whole school sat waiting and hoping. The 
 house was so still that one heard scarcely a 
 sound except the names spoken by the twc 
 captains, and the brisk footsteps of the 
 youths and maidens crossing the room, as
 
 46 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 they were called, now to Grace's side, now to 
 James's, there to stand like two rows of sol- 
 diers on drill. 
 
 Miss Pike could not but observe the 
 sparkle of satisfaction in some faces, and the 
 gloom of disappointment in others ; and she 
 rejoiced with the good spellers and grieved 
 with the poor ones, like the dear, kind 
 woman she was. i 
 
 Out of courtesy, Mary Gray and Fanny 
 Townsend were chosen among the first. 
 James Hunnicut supposed it would be ungal- 
 lant to neglect visitors, though he did wince 
 a little as he called Mary Gray's name, 
 thinking, "What do I want of a baby like 
 that? Of course she'll miss every word." 
 
 Mary answered James's call with a throb- 
 bing heart, proud, delighted, yet afraid. 
 Next Grace Mallon called Fred Allen, and 
 thought, when he walked over to her side
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 47 
 
 with his well-bred air, that she had secured a 
 prize. How could she suspect that a distin- 
 guished-looking lad like that was not a " nat- 
 ural speller," and did not always do as well 
 as he knew, on account of his habit of speak- 
 ing before he thought? In fact, he missed 
 the very first word, exactly, making the first 
 syllable eggs in his ruinous haste. Of course 
 he knew better, but no allowance was made 
 for mistakes, and like a flash the word was 
 passed across the room to Mary, who spelled 
 it correctly. 
 
 Fred felt disgraced, lost all confidence, 
 and, if he had dared, would have asked to be 
 excused from duty. Captain Grace would 
 have excused him gladly, but such a thing 
 was never heard of ; he must stand at his 
 post, and blunder all the evening. 
 
 It was the custom, when a word was 
 missed on one side and corrected on the
 
 48 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 other, for the successful captain to swell his 
 own numbers by " choosing off " one from 
 the enemy's ranks. Captain James now 
 " chose off " one of Captain Grace's best 
 soldiers, and the game went on. 
 
 Next time it was one of Captain James's 
 men' Fanny Townsend who blundered, 
 and it was Captain Grace's turn to choose 
 off. 
 
 For some time the numbers were about 
 even ; but as Fred Allen invariably missed, 
 and there were Jack Townsend and other 
 poor spellers below him to keep him com- 
 pany, Captain James began to have a decided 
 advantage. He kept choosing off again and 
 again, Mary Gray, among the rest, while 
 Captain Grace bit her lips in silence. 
 
 But the moment she had it in her power 
 she called a name in a ringing voice, and it 
 was "Mary Gray." Mary had spelled all he?
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 49 
 
 words promptly, they had usually been hard 
 ones, too, and her blue eyes danced as she 
 tripped across the room in answer to the 
 call. Was there a ray of triumph in her 
 glance as it fell on cousin Fred, who was 
 propping his head against the wall, trying to 
 look easy and unconcerned ? Fred, who was 
 so much older than herself, and ciphering at 
 the very end of the arithmetic ? Fred, who 
 had always looked down on little Flaxie as 
 rather light-minded? 
 
 There he stood, and there he was likely to 
 stand, and Jack Townsend, too, while the 
 favorite spellers with ill-concealed satisfac- 
 tion were walking back and forth conquering 
 and to conquer. 
 
 Mary Gray was called for as often as the 
 oldest scholar in the room, and, as she !i.ted 
 from east to west, her head grew as light 
 with vanity as the " blo\v ^a 1 ! " of a clande-
 
 5O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 lion. She threw it back airily, and smiled in 
 a superior way when poor Fred missed a 
 word, as if she would like to say to the 
 scholars, " I came here with that dunce, it 's 
 true, but please don't blame me because he 
 can't spell." 
 
 " That 's a remarkably bright, pretty little 
 girl, but I fancy she would n't toss her head 
 so if there was much in it," whispered Mr. 
 Garland's nephew to Miss Pike, while Mr. 
 Garland was putting out the words. 
 
 Miss Pike had been pained by Mary's 
 silly behavior, but replied : 
 
 " You are wrong, quite wrong, Mr. Porter, 
 she is a dear little girl and has plenty of 
 sense." 
 
 It was positively gratifying to the good 
 lady afterwards to hear Mary mis-spell the 
 word pillory, for the mortification humbled 
 her, and from that moment there was no 
 more tossing of curls.
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. $1 
 
 When the time was up, Captain James's 
 side had conquered most victoriously, num- 
 bering twice as many as the other side. 
 The two captains bowed to each other and 
 the game was over. Then Fred Allen, 
 Fanny Townsend, and all the other wall- 
 flowers were allowed at last to move. It 
 was time to go home. 
 
 The girls and boys, all shawled and hooded 
 and coated and capped, went toward the 
 door, chatting and laughing. 
 
 James Hunnicut said to Grace Mallon, 
 " Beg your pardon ; I did n't mean to take 
 all your men." 
 
 " Oh," returned Grace, undaunted, " I had 
 men enough left, and dare say I should 
 have got every one of yours away from 
 you if we 'd only played half an hour 
 longer." 
 
 " Ah, you would, would you ? Well, we '11
 
 52 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 try it again and see. Is n't that little girl 
 of Dr. Gray 's a daisy?" 
 
 " Not quite equal to the Allen boy ; I 
 admire him" returned Grace in an under- 
 tone ; but Fred heard and buttoned his over- 
 coat above a swelling heart. 
 
 "Good night, we're all so glad you came," 
 said Miss Pike, shaking hands warmly with 
 him and Mary. Then off she went, and half 
 the school followed, walking and riding by 
 twos and threes and fours. 
 
 But where, oh where, in the name of all the 
 spelling-schools, was Fred's horse ? There 
 wasn't the shadow of him to be seen.. 
 Where was Fred's sleigh ? There was 
 not so much as the tip of a runner in 
 sight. Where was Mr. Fling? Gone to 
 Canada, perhaps, the smooth-faced deceitful 
 wretch ! ^ 
 
 Fred would "have a sheriff after hirn*," so
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 53 
 
 he assured cousin Flaxie, and that imme- 
 diately. 
 
 Mary stamped her little low-heeled boots 
 to keep her feet warm, and highly approved 
 of the plan. 
 
 " Oh yes, Fred, do call a sheriff ; I 'm per- 
 fectly willing ; " and the situation seemed de- 
 lightfully tragic, till somebody laughed, and 
 then it occurred to her that sheriffs, whatever 
 they may be, do not grow on bushes or in 
 snow-banks. And, of course, Mr. Fling had 
 not gone to Canada, Fred knew that well 
 enough ; he had only "dropped in " at some- 
 body's house and forgotten to come out. 
 
 " The people, wherever he is, ought to 
 send him home," said James Hunnicut sym- 
 pathetically. 
 
 " That 's so," assented two or three others. 
 "It's abofomable to go 'round calling with a 
 borrowed horse and sleigh."
 
 54 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 So much pity was galling to both Mary 
 and Fred, making them feel like young 
 children, who ought not to have been 
 trusted witWhit a driver. Why would n't 
 everybody gq away and leave them. The 
 situation would surely be less embarrassing 
 if they faced it alone. 
 
 Fred was angry and undignified. He had 
 had as much as he could bear all the evening, 
 and this was a straw too much. Mary, on 
 the other hand, had enjoyed an unusual 
 triumph ; but how her feet did ache with 
 cold ! The blood had left them hours ago 
 to light a blazing fire in her head ; and 
 now to stand on that icy door-stone was 
 torture ! 
 
 " I know I shall freeze, but I '11 bear it," 
 thought she, taking gay little waltzing steps. 
 " How they do admire me, and it would spoil 
 it all to cry. Why, all the great spelling I
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. 55 
 
 could do in a year would n't make up for one 
 cry." 
 
 Just as she had got as far as to remember 
 that she had heard of a man whose feet 
 "froze and fell off," Grace Mallon asked 
 when her brother Phil would have a vaca- 
 tion ? She had shut her teeth together 
 firmly, but being obliged to answer this 
 question, her voice, to her dire surprise and 
 confusion, came forth in a sob ! Not one 
 articulate word could she speak ; and there 
 was Captain James Hunnicut looking straight 
 at her ! Keener mortification the poor child 
 had seldom known. Following so closely, 
 too, upon her evening's triumph ! But at 
 that moment Mr. Garland, who was about 
 driving off with his nephew, stopped his horse 
 and said: "This is too bad! Here, Miss 
 Flaxie, here 's a chance for you to ride with 
 us. We can make room for her, can't we
 
 56 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Stephen ? But as for you, Master Fred, I 
 see no other way but you must wait for your 
 horse. " 
 
 Mary, utterly humbled, sprang with grati- 
 tude into Mr. Garland's sleigh, without 
 trusting herself to look back. 
 
 And Fred did " wait," with a heart swell- 
 ing as big as a foot-ball, and saw his cousin 
 bestowed between the two gentlemen, who 
 smiled on him patronizingly, as upon a boy 
 of four in pinafores. 
 
 This was hard. And when Mr. Fling 
 appeared at last, laughing heartlessly, and 
 drove the half-frozen boy part of the way 
 home, leaving him at the hotel, the most 
 convenient point for himself, and advising 
 him to take ginger-tea and go to bed, this 
 oh, this, was harder yet ! 
 
 But it was Mrs. Gray who suffered most 
 from this little fiasco. Before the children
 
 THE SPELLING-SCHOOL. $/ 
 
 returned she was flushed and nervous, and 
 Dr. Gray blamed himself for having allowed 
 them to go. 
 
 "I'm thankful, my daughter, that you've 
 got here alive," said she, sending for Mary to 
 come to her chamber; "Whiz is a fiery 
 fellow, and Fred is n't a good driver." 
 
 " Was it as delightful as you expected, 
 Mary ? And did you spell them all down ? " 
 asked her father. 
 
 " Yes, sir, it was delightful ; and I spelled 
 ever so many hard words, and only missed 
 one ; but Fred spells shockingly," replied 
 Mary, taking up a vial from the stand and 
 putting it down again. 
 
 " So, on the whole, I see you did n't quite 
 enjoy it," said Mrs. Gray, rather puzzled by 
 Flaxie's disconsolate look. 
 
 " Not quite, mamma ; don't you think Mr. 
 Fling was very impolite ? And oh, I must
 
 58 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 warm my feet, they are nearly frozen," said 
 Mary, questioning within herself why it was 
 that, whenever she had a signal triumph, 
 something was almost sure to happen that 
 "spoiled it all."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 
 
 THE spelling-school, with its triumphs and 
 chagrins, had partially faded from Mary's 
 memory, to become one of her "old times ;" 
 for winter had gone, and it was now the 
 very last evening of March. 
 
 You may not care to hear how the wind 
 blew, and really it has nothing to do with 
 our story, only it happened to be blowing 
 violently. Tea was over, and everybody had 
 left the dining-room but Mary and cousin 
 Fred. Mary had just parted the curtains 
 to look out, as people always do on a windy 
 night, when Fred startled her by saying, in a 
 whisper, " Flaxie, come here." 
 
 59
 
 6O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 She dropped the curtain hastily, and 
 crossed the room. What could Fred be 
 wanting of her, and why should he whisper 
 when they two were alone, and the wind 
 outside was making such a noise ? 
 
 "Put your ear down close to my mouth, 
 Flaxie. You must n't tell anybody, now 
 remember." 
 
 " Why not, Fred ? It is n't best to make 
 promises beforehand. Perhaps I ought to 
 tell." 
 
 " Ought to tell ? I like that ! Then- 1 '11 
 keep it to myself, that 's all." 
 
 " Now, Fred, I did n't say I would tell. 
 And, if it 's something perfectly right and 
 proper, I won't tell, of course." 
 
 "Oh, it's right and proper enough. Do 
 you promise ? Yes or no ? " 
 
 " Yes, then," said Flaxie, too anxious for 
 Fred's confidence, and too much honored
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 61 
 
 by it to refuse, though she knew from past 
 experience that he frequently held peculiar 
 views as to "propriety." 
 
 " Here, see this," said he, taking a smooth 
 block of wood from his pocket and whisper- 
 ing a word of explanation. " Won't it be 
 larks ? " 
 
 She drew back with a nervous laugh. 
 "Why, Fred!" 
 
 "And I didn't know but you'd like to 
 go with me, Flaxie, just for company." 
 
 "But do you think it's exactly proper? 
 He 's a minister, you know." 
 
 "Why that's the very fun of it, just 
 because he is a minister ! It 's the biggest 
 thing that '11 be done to-morrow, see if it 
 is n't ? " 
 
 Mary looked doubtful. 
 
 " I was a goose to tell you, though, Flaxie ; 
 I might have known girls always make a 
 fuss."
 
 62 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Oh, it is n't because I 'm a girl, Fred ! 
 Girls like fun as well as anybody, only girls 
 
 have more ." She did not know whether 
 
 to say "delicacy" or "discretion," but de- 
 cided that either word would give offence ; 
 " girls are different." 
 
 "Then you won't go with me? No mat- 
 ter. I believe, after all, I 'd rather have one 
 of the boys." 
 
 " Yes, oh yes, I will go with you ; I 'd 
 like to go," exclaimed Mary, desperately, 
 throwing discretion to the winds. 
 
 "Agreed, then, to-morrow morning on 
 the way to school. And now mind, Flaxie, 
 don't put this down in your journal to-night, 
 for that would let it all out." 
 
 "Why, nobody ever looks at my journal! 
 ^t would be dishonest. Why, Fred," in 
 sudden alarm, "did you ever look at my 
 journal?"
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 63 
 
 " Poh ! what do I care for your old scrib- 
 blings ? " The boy's manners had been 
 falling to decay all winter for lack of his 
 mother's constant "line upon line." "Only 
 your journal is always 'round, and you 'd 
 better be careful, that 's all." 
 
 Next morning it rained, and Mary walked 
 to school with Fred under the gloom of a 
 big umbrella, Phil having been sent on in 
 advance. 
 
 "Pretty weather for April Fools," re- 
 marked Fred, carefully guarding under his 
 arm a neat little package containing a block 
 of wood, with a card, on which were the 
 words, simple but significant, " April Fool." 
 
 Arriving at Rev. Mr. Lee's door-yard, he 
 walked up the narrow gravel-path with Flaxie 
 beside him, "just for company." 
 
 " Now don't laugh and spoil it," said he. 
 And, to solemnize his own face, he tried to
 
 64 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 think of the horrible time last summer, when 
 he and his brother John went for pond-lilies, 
 and were upset and nearly drowned. Mary 
 looked as if she were thinking of an accident 
 still worse, her face drawn to remarkable 
 length, and her mouth dolefully puckered. 
 
 " You don't suppose Mr. Lee will come 
 himself, do you ? " whispered Fred, ringing 
 the door-bell very gently. 
 
 " Oh Fred, let 's go away. Just think if 
 he should put you in a sermon ? He put 
 somebody in once for stealing watermelons. 
 He did n't say the name right out, but " 
 
 Two early dandelions by the front window 
 seemed bubbling over with merriment and 
 curiosity; but before they or Fred had 
 learned who stole the watermelons, Fred 
 stopped his cousin by saying contemp- 
 tuously, "When a man gets nicely fooled 
 he won't put that in a sermon, you 'd better
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 65 
 
 believe." And then, gathering courage, he 
 rang louder. 
 
 Mary was deliberating whether to run or 
 
 
 
 not, when the housemaid appeared. 
 
 " Will you give this to Mr. Lee ? Very 
 important," said Fred, handing her the dainty 
 little parcel. 
 
 She looked at it, she seemed to look 
 through it ; a merry glint came into her 
 eyes. 
 
 "I was afraid somebody was dead," said 
 she. " You rung so loud, and you looked so 
 terrible solemn, both of you." 
 
 " Solemn ? " echoed Fred ; and then it 
 was he, not Mary, who broke down and 
 smiled. 
 
 " Mr. Lee 's gone to a ftmeril" continued 
 Hannah, looking through and through the 
 parcel again ; "but I'll give it to him when 
 he comes home, and tell him who brought it."
 
 66 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Did Fred wish her to tell him ? He began 
 to doubt it. 
 
 " Come, Flaxie, we must go." 
 
 " Fred," said the little girl, as they hurried 
 out of the gate, " I can't help thinking ; 
 shan't we feel sorry next Sunday ? " 
 
 "Nonsense!" returned her cousin. He 
 had already thought about Sunday, and fan- 
 cied himself looking up to the pulpit to meet 
 Mr. Lee's eye. Had he been quite respectful 
 to that learned and excellent man ? 
 
 " Nonsense ! ministers are no better than 
 other folks ! " 
 
 It was too late to repent ; but he wished 
 now he had waited till afternoon and thought 
 of all the possible consequences. Perhaps 
 the fun wouldn't pay. These doubts, how- 
 ever, he did not mention to the boys at 
 school, but told them he had made "a 
 splendid fool " of the minister.
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 67 
 
 That evening, as he and Mary stood by the 
 carriage-way gate, and he was opening it for 
 Dr. Gray to drive into the yard, who should 
 be passing on the other side of the street, 
 but Mr. Lee. 
 
 "How do you do, Dr. Gray," said he; 
 and came over to do a trivial errand, which 
 Fred fancied must have been made up for 
 the occasion ; it was something about a book 
 which he wished to borrow some time, not 
 now. Then, turning to guilty Fred, who had 
 not dared slip away, 
 
 " Good evening, Master Fred," with ex- 
 treme politeness ; " I was very sorry not to 
 be at home this morning when you left your 
 card." 
 
 Your card ! Those were his words. 
 
 "My card! Does he think I signed my- 
 self April Fool ? My goodness, so I did ! 
 People always put their own names on their
 
 68 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 visiting-cards, sure enough ! It 's I that am 
 the April Fool, and nobody else," thought 
 the outwitted boy, not venturing to look up. 
 
 A blush mounted to Mary's forehead, and 
 she too looked at the ground. 
 
 " Pray call again, Master Fred," said Mr. 
 Lee ; and his manner was as respectful as if 
 Fred had been at least a supreme judge. 
 
 " What 's all this ? " asked the doctor 
 sternly as the clergyman walked away. 
 
 "'Twas a little kind of a a joke, you 
 know, sir, for fun. I did n't mean anything. 
 I like Mr Lee first rate," stammered Fred, 
 scanning his boots, as if to decide whether 
 they were big enough for him to crawl into 
 and hide. 
 
 Dr. Gray never needed to be told more 
 than half a story. 
 
 " Oh, I see ! You 've made an April Fool 
 of yourself. Ha, ha ! Mr. Lee is too sharp
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 69 
 
 for you, is he? And so, Mary, you went 
 with Fred ? " 
 
 The doctor looked grave. It was not easy 
 to let this pass. " Wait here, both of you, 
 till I come back," said he, driving into the 
 stable. 
 
 " This is a great go," thought Fred. 
 " Hope the boys won't hear of it." 
 
 " Fred," said Dr. Gray, returning, and 
 he spoke with displeasure, "I am disap- 
 pointed in you. And in you too, Mary." 
 
 " Oh, papa," wailed a little voice from 
 under Mary's hat. Her head was bowed, 
 and her tears were falling. 
 
 " I was the one that thought of it ; I was 
 the one that asked her to go," spoke up 
 Fred, all the manliness in him stirred by his 
 cousin's tears. 
 
 "No doubt you were; and I'm glad to 
 hear you acknowledge it," said Dr. Gray,
 
 7O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 resting his hand on his nephew's shoulder. 
 ' But Mary knew better than to be led away 
 by you. My daughter, jests of this sort may 
 be tolerated in your own family or among 
 your schoolmates ; but do you think they 
 are suitable to be played upon ministers?" 
 
 " No, sir," sobbed Mary. 
 
 " Well, then, let this be a lesson to you." 
 This was a favorite speech with the doctor. 
 " Kiss me, my child ; and now run into the 
 house. I shall never refer to this matter 
 again, and it is not necessary to mention it 
 to your mother. But Fred," he added, as 
 Mary swiftly escaped, "do you think your 
 conduct has been gentlemanly and courteous ? 
 Ought you to have taken this liberty with a 
 comparative stranger, a person, too, of 
 Mr. Lee's high character?" 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Do you think your mother would be 
 pleased to hear of it ? "
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 71 
 
 "I know she wouldn't," admitted Fred 
 frankly. 
 
 Dr, Gray's countenance softened. 
 
 " I don't like to be harsh with you, for you 
 meant no impertinence ; still, if I am to treat 
 you as my own child, as your parents desire, 
 I believe I shall have to bid you ask Mr. 
 Lee's pardon. What say you to that ? It 's 
 the way I should treat Preston." 
 
 "All right," replied Fred sadly. 
 
 Next morning saw the lad, cap in hand, 
 knocking at the door of the minister's study. 
 Mary had half-offered to go with him, but he 
 had scorned to accept the sacrifice. 
 
 " Come in," said Mr. Lee, opening the door. 
 
 Fred advanced one step into the room. 
 There was an awful pause, during which 
 those very dandelions of yesterday winked 
 at him from a silver vase, and his well-pon- 
 dered speech began to grow hazy.
 
 72 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " My uncle sent me to apologize," he fal- 
 tered forth. " I did n't mean to be disre- 
 spectful to a to a minister. For I think 
 of course I think that ministers " 
 
 Here a certain twinkle in Mr. Lee's eye 
 distracted Fred, and his speech flew right 
 out of the window. " For I dorit think," 
 added he, in wild haste, " that ministers are 
 any better than other folks." 
 
 It was just like Fred. He had meant to 
 say something entirely opposite to this; but 
 the "imp of the perverse" was apt to seize 
 his tongue. Oh, dear, he had finished the 
 business now! 
 
 " I agree with you, my boy ; ministers 
 are n't any better than other folks, certainly," 
 said Mr. Lee, laughing outright in the most 
 genial way. 
 
 " Oh, that was n't what I meant, sir. 
 Please don't think I meant to say that,"
 
 THE MINISTER S JOKli. /3 
 
 pleaded Fred, feeling himself more than ever 
 the most foolish of April fools. 
 
 But the good-natured clergyman drew him 
 into the room. " Come, now," said he, still 
 laughing, though not sarcastically at all, just 
 merrily, " let me have the call I missed yes- 
 terday. Your cousin Preston is one of my 
 best friends, but I think you 've never en- 
 tered my study before." 
 
 It was a cosy, sunny room, and, beside 
 books, held a large cabinet, and a green 
 plant-stand, blooming with flowers. Fred 
 seated himself on the edge of a chair, ready 
 for instant departure ; but Mr. Lee chatted 
 most agreea'bly, telling interesting stories, 
 and inquiring about Hilltop people, till he 
 forgot his embarrassment, and was soon 
 asking questions in regard to the different 
 objects in the cabinet. 
 
 What was that whitish, buff -colored stuff ?
 
 74 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Coquinaf Oh! And people bvilt houses 
 of it? Possible? Was it really made of 
 shells? How strange! Well, that taran- 
 tula's nest was a queer concern ! Why, it 
 shut down like a trap-door exactly. Looked 
 as if it had a hinge, and a carpenter made it. 
 Was that an eagle's claw ? Oh, and that ? 
 A rattlesnake's rattle ? Was this a scor- 
 pion ? And so on. 
 
 It was a varied collection, and Mr. Lee 
 seemed to have nothing to do that morning 
 but to exhibit it. Not another word about 
 the April Fool ; but Fred felt that he was 
 forgiven, or, rather, that no forgiveness was 
 needed, as no offence had been taken. 
 
 " I tell you, Flaxie," confided he to his 
 cousin afterward, " I never liked Mr. Lee half 
 so well ; never dreamed he was so bright and 
 sharp. He likes fun as well as we boys. 
 Only somehow Well, I would n't do it
 
 THE MINISTER'S JOKE. 75 
 
 again ; it was foolish. See here, Flaxie, have 
 you put this in your journal ? Well, don't 
 you now ! If the boys should find out " 
 
 "What do you mean about my journal ?" 
 returned Mary, drawing up her mouth like 
 the silk "work-pocket," to mark her dis- 
 pleasure. " Anybody 'd think my journal 
 was a newspaper." 
 
 Fred smiled wisely.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 
 
 THE journal was a pretty little red book, 
 which lay sometimes on the piano, some- 
 times on the centre-table, and was often 
 opened innocently enough by callers. If it 
 had been the simple, matter-of-fact little 
 book that it ought to have been, the reading 
 of it would have done no harm. But Mary 
 had a habit of recording her emotions, also 
 her opinions of her friends, a bad habit, 
 which she did not break off till it had nearly 
 brought her into trouble. 
 
 " What does Fred Allen mean by calling 
 me ' Miss Fanny dear, with mouth stretched 
 76
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 77 
 
 from ear to ear ' ? " asked Fanny Townsend, 
 indignantly. 
 
 " How do you know he did ? " 
 
 " Saw it in your journal. And you put a 
 period after 'Miss'! Needn't accuse me of 
 laughing, Flaxie Frizzle, when I happen to 
 know that my mother considers you a great 
 giggler, and dreads to have you come to our 
 house." 
 
 " Does she ? Then I '11 stay away ! And 
 if I did put a period after ' Miss ' it was a 
 mistake. But I Ve no respect for people 
 that read other people's private journals ! " 
 
 " Hope you don't call that private. Why, 
 I thought 't was a Sabbath-school book, or I 
 wouldn't have touched it." And whether 
 she would or not, Fanny was obliged to 
 laugh ; so the breach was healed for the 
 time. But after this Mary began a new 
 journal, which she conducted on different
 
 78 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 principles, trying moreover to keep it in its 
 proper place in her writing-desk. 
 
 There were secret signs and mysterious 
 allusions in this new journal, however, the 
 letters " C. C." recurring again and again in 
 all sorts of places, without any apparent 
 meaning or connection. She evidently en- 
 joyed scribbling them, and no harm was 
 done, since nobody but "we girls" knew 
 what they meant. " C. C." was a precious 
 secret, which we may pry into for ourselves 
 by-and-by. 
 
 Mary was now in her thirteenth year, and 
 though she still enjoyed hanging May-bas- 
 kets, driving hoops, skipping the rope, and 
 even playing dolls, her growing mind was 
 never idle. She enjoyed her lessons at 
 school, for she memorized with ease ; she 
 liked to draw; but sitting at the piano was a 
 weariness ; and she considered it a trial- that,
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 79 
 
 in addition to her own practising, she 
 should be expected to teach and superintend 
 Ethel. She was strict with her little pupil, 
 and found frequent occasion for sermonettes, 
 but Ethel got on famously, and Mary re- 
 ceived and deserved high praise as teacher. 
 
 She missed her cousin Fred when he went 
 home at last, not to return, but she told 
 Lady Fotheringay (Blanche Jones) in confi- 
 dence that she "could improve her mind 
 better when he was gone." Moreover, Pres- 
 ton would soon be home for his summer 
 vacation. 
 
 She was beginning to question what she 
 was made for. Something grand and won- 
 derful, no doubt ; something much better 
 than studying, reading, sewing, and doing 
 errands. There were times when this fa- 
 vored child of fortune even said to herself 
 that life was hard, and that her mother was
 
 8O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 over-strict in requiring her to mend her 
 clothes and do a stint of some sort of sewing 
 on Saturdays. Wasn't she old enough yel 
 to have outgrown stints ? 
 
 "Why can't pillow-cases be hemmed by 
 machine ? " complained she to Ethel. " And 
 there you are, almost six years old, with not 
 a thing to do ! I can tell you I used to sew 
 patchwork at your age by the yard ! C. C. 
 I keep saying that over to comfort myself, 
 Ethel, butyvti don't know what it stands for. 
 Oh no, not chocolate candy ; better than 
 that! Wish I lived at the south, where 
 colored servants do everything. There 's 
 Grandma Hyde now; if we had her black 
 Venus, and her black Mary, and her yellow 
 Thomas, I should n't have to dust parlors and 
 run of errands! Mamma is always talking 
 to me about being useful. Little girls are 
 never talked to in that way ; it 's we older
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 8 1 
 
 girls who have to bear all the brunt. It 
 tires me to death to sew, sew, sew ! Now 
 it 's such fun to run in the woods. Mr. Lee 
 says we ought to admire nature, and I 'm 
 going after flag-root this afternoon instead of 
 mending my stockings I think it 's my 
 duty ! " 
 
 As Mary rattled on in this way, little 
 Ethel listened most attentively. Her sister 
 Flaxie stood as a pattern to her of all the 
 virtues, ah, if Flaxie had but known it ! 
 and she looked forward to the time when she 
 should be exactly like her, with just such 
 curls, and just that superior way of lecturing 
 little people. It was not worth while to be 
 any better than Flaxie. If Flaxie objected 
 to sewing and mending, Ethel would object 
 to it also. , 
 
 " If my mamma ever makes me sit on a 
 chair to sew patchwork, I '11 go South ! If
 
 82 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 she makes me mend stockings, I '11 go in the 
 woods ! I won't be useful if Flaxie is n't ; 
 no indeedy!" 
 
 Thus while Flaxie's sermonettes were for- 
 gotten, her chance words and her example 
 took deep hold of the little one's mind. 
 
 Everybody said Mary was growing up a 
 sweet girl, more "lovesome" and womanly 
 than had once been expected. In truth 
 Mary thought so herself. Plenty of well- 
 meaning but injudicious people had told her 
 she was pretty ; and she knew that Mrs. Lee 
 liked to look at her face because it was so 
 " expressive," and Mrs. Patten because it was 
 so " thoughtful," and somebody else because 
 it was so "intelligent." Ethel had a figure 
 like a roly-poly pudding ; but Mary was tall 
 >and slight, and even Mrs. Prim admitted that 
 she was "graceful." 
 
 One Sunday morning early in May she sat
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 83 
 
 in church, apparently paying strict attention 
 to the sermon, but really thinking. 
 
 " I dare say, now, Mrs. Townsend is look- 
 ing at me, and wishing Fanny were more 
 like me. Nobody else of my age sits as still 
 as I do, except Sadie Stockwell, and she has 
 a stiff spine. There 's Major Patten, I re- 
 member he said once to father, 'Dr. Gray, 
 your second girl is a child to be proud of.' I 
 know he did, for I was coming into the room 
 and heard him." 
 
 Directly after morning services came Sun- 
 day school, and Mary was in Mrs. Lee's 
 class. Mrs. Lee was an enthusiastic young 
 woman, fond of all her scholars, but it was 
 easy to see that Mary was her prime favorite. 
 Mrs. Gray's class of boys Phil being the 
 youngest sat in the next seat. The lesson 
 to-day was short, and after recitation Mrs. 
 Lee showed her own class and Mrs. Gray's
 
 84 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 some pictures which her uncle had brought 
 her from China. 
 
 "What is that queer thing?" said Fanny, 
 as she and Mary touched bonnets over one of 
 the pictures. 
 
 " That is called a baby -tower. My uncle 
 says it is a good representation of the dread- 
 ful place they drop girl-babies into sometimes. 
 You know girls are lightly esteemed in hea- 
 then countries." 
 
 " Drop girl -babies into it ? " asked Blanche 
 Jones. " Does n't it hurt them ? " 
 
 " Not much, I believe ; but it kills them." 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Lee ! " It was Mary who 
 spoke, in tones of horror. 
 
 "The tower is half full of lime, and the 
 lime stops their breath. So I presume they 
 hardly suffer at all." 
 
 Mary's eyes were full of tears, and she 
 sprang up eagerly, exclaiming,
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 85 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Lee ! Oh, mamma, did you 
 hear that ? I declare, it 's too bad ! Can't 
 the missionaries stop their killing babies so ?" 
 
 " You sweet child," said Mrs. Lee. 
 
 But Mrs. Gray only said, 
 
 "Yes, my daughter, the missionaries are 
 doing their best ; but everything can't be 
 done in a day." 
 
 " But it ought to be done this very minute, 
 mamma." 
 
 Mary's whole face glowed ; and Mrs. Lee, 
 who sat directly in front of her, could not 
 refrain from leaning over the pew and kiss- 
 ing her. 
 
 "We ought to bring more money, seems 
 to me," suggested good, moon-faced Blanche 
 Jones, pressing her fat hands together. 
 
 "Yes, a cent every Sunday is too little," 
 said one of Mrs. Gray's little boys. 
 
 " Yes, a cent is too little," agreed Fanny 
 Townsend earnestly.
 
 86 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " How thoughtless we 've been," said 
 Mary, in high excitement. " For my part, 
 I mean to give those Chinese every cent of 
 my pin-money this month. Do you care if I 
 do, mamma ? " 
 
 " No ; you have my full consent. Only do 
 not make up your mind in a hurry," replied 
 Mrs. Gray ; but her manner was cold in com- 
 parison with Mrs. Lee's cordial hand-shake 
 and " God bless you, my precious girl." 
 
 " I 'm a real pet with Mrs. Lee," thought 
 Mary, her heart throbbing high. 
 
 Blanche, Fanny, and the two older girls in 
 the class, Sadie Patten and Lucy Abbott, 
 were silent. They knew that Mary's pin- 
 money amounted to four dollars a month, and 
 though they had thought of doing something 
 themselves, this brilliant offer discouraged 
 them at once : they could not make up their 
 minds to anything so munificent.
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 87 
 
 Going home that noon, Mary " walked on 
 thorns," though she tried to be humble. By 
 the next day, her feelings toward the Chi- 
 nese had undergone a slight chill ; and when 
 her mother alluded to Captain Emerson 
 Mrs. Lee's uncle and his pictures, Mary 
 did not care to converse on the subject. She 
 even felt a pang of regret at the re collection 
 of her hasty promise. Those girl-babies 
 were far off now ; she could not see them in 
 imagination, as at first. Days passed, and 
 the poor things were fading out of mind, 
 buried deep in the lime of the tower. 
 
 " My daughter," said Mrs. Gray, on Sat- 
 urday, " let me see your portmonnaie." It 
 contained three dollars and a half now. Mrs. 
 Gray counted the bills. " Have you any 
 especial use for this money, Mary ? " 
 
 "I don't know. Would you buy those 
 stereoscopic views of Rome and the Alps
 
 88 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 that Mr. Snow said I could choose from dif- 
 ferent sets ? " 
 
 Mrs. Gray smiled quietly. 
 
 " What good will the views do the babies 
 in China ? " 
 
 There was a sudden droop of Mary's head. 
 
 "Why, mamma, as true as you live I for- 
 got all about those babies ; I really did ! 
 You see, mamma, I did n't stop to think last 
 Sunday. Must I give all my money to Mrs. 
 Lee three dollars and a half?" 
 
 " To Mrs. Lee ? I was under the impres- 
 sion that you were to give it to the missiona- 
 ries to convert the Chinese." 
 
 " Oh, yes, but I said it to Mrs. Lee ; 
 the missionaries don't know anything about 
 it." 
 
 " So it seems," returned Mrs. Gray dryly ; 
 "you said it to Mrs. Lee merely to please 
 her" Mary's head sank still lower. " Well,
 
 CHINESE BABIES. 89 
 
 you n ^V ixs,k l\?rs. Lee to let you off, my 
 daugL.er." 
 
 " But, mamma, how it would look to go to 
 her and ask that ! I could n't ! " 
 
 " Then you '1! be obliged to give the 
 money," responded Mrs. Gray unfeelingly. 
 How easily shf. might have said, " Never 
 mind, Mary, I w:ll see Mrs. Lee and arrange 
 it for you." Ar,5 she was usually a thought- 
 ful, obliging mother. Mary pressed the bills 
 together in hei hand, spread them out ten- 
 derly, gazed at them as if she loved them. 
 It was a laro-e sum, and looked larger 
 through her teirs. 
 
 " I can't ask Mrs. Lee to let me off ; you 
 know I can't, mamma. I 'd rather lose the 
 money ! " 
 
 " Lose the money !" So that was the way 
 she regarded it ! A strange sort of benevo- 
 lence surely!
 
 9O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Take heed, therefore, that ye do not your 
 alms before men to be seen of them ; otherwise 
 ye have no reward of your Father wJiich is in 
 heaven" This was Mr. Lee's text next day. 
 
 " Oh, that means me," groaned Mary in- 
 wardly. " I 've been seen of Mrs. Lee, and 
 I 've been seen of Blanche and Fanny and 
 the other girls ; and that 's just what I did it 
 for, and not for the people in China ! Oh, 
 dear ! oh, dear ! to think what a humbug 
 I am ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OLD BLUFF. 
 
 AND now we come to an episode of the 
 highest importance to five young misses of 
 Laurel Grove. General Townsend owned an 
 unoccupied house about two miles from town, 
 at the foot of a steep hill called Old Bluff ; 
 and it had occurred to the active mind of 
 Mary Gray that this would be a fine place for 
 "camping out." 
 
 It was April when she hinted this to Fanny 
 Townsend, but it was May before Fanny 
 spoke of it to her father. 
 
 " I 'm waiting till some time when you 
 come to my house to tea, Dandelina ; and 
 
 91
 
 92 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 we must n't get to laughing, now you re- 
 member." 
 
 Mary seated herself at the Townsend tea- 
 table one evening with nervous dread ; for, 
 next to Mrs. Prim, Mrs. Townsend inspired 
 her with more awe than any other lady in 
 town. When she thought it time for Fanny 
 to speak, she touched her foot under the table, 
 and Fanny began. 
 
 " Papa, I have something to say." 
 Fanny had the feeling that she was not 
 highly reverenced by her family, on account 
 of her unfortunate habit of giggling ; but her 
 face was serious enough now. " Papa, may 
 we girls go down to the farm next summer, 
 to that house with the roses 'round it, and 
 camp out ? The girls all want to, and we 
 we 're going to call it Camp Comfort." (The 
 reader will perceive that this explains the 
 letters " C. C") She was sorry next mo-
 
 OLD BLUFF. 93 
 
 ment that she had spoken, for her mother 
 said, just as she had feared she might, "What 
 will you think of next, Fanny ? " 
 
 But her father seemed only amused. 
 " Camp out ? We girls ? How many may 
 ye be ? And who ? Going to take your ser- 
 vants ? " 
 
 " You '11 each need a watch-dog," suggested 
 Fanny's elder brother, Jack. 
 
 "You'll come home nights, I presume, 
 servants, watch-dogs and all," said her father. 
 
 " O no, indeed ! It would n't be camping 
 out if we came home nights ! And nobody 
 has a dog but Fanny, and we should n't want 
 any servants," cried Mary Gray, whose views 
 of labor seemed to have changed materially. 
 
 " We intend to do our own work," remarked 
 Fanny. Whereupon everybody laughed ; 
 and General Townsend asked again who the 
 girls were ? " Oh, Flaxie Frizzle and Blanche
 
 94 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Jones and I, papa ; that makes three, rather 
 young ; and then Sadie Patten and Lucy 
 Abbott, they 're rather old ; that makes five. 
 Sadie and Lucy will be the mothers, I 
 mean if you let us go." 
 
 "That 'if is well put in," said brother 
 Jack. 
 
 " But what will you do for a stove ? " asked 
 General Townsend, wishing to hear their 
 plans, "there's none in the house." 
 
 " My mamma has a rusty stove, and our 
 Henry Mann could take it to Old Bluff," re- 
 plied Mary. 
 
 " But there 's no furniture, not a chair or 
 a table." 
 
 "They have too many chairs at Major 
 Patten's and Mr. Jones's ; their houses are 
 running over with chairs." 
 
 " Well, what about dishes ? " 
 
 "Why, papa," said Fanny eagerly, "only
 
 OLD BLUFF. 95 
 
 think what lots of dishes we have, just 
 oceans, all broken to pieces ! " 
 
 " Ah, shall you eat from broken dishes ? " 
 asked Mrs. Townsend coolly. " And perhaps 
 you '11 sleep on the floor ?" 
 
 " O no, Mrs. Townsend, our house is full 
 of beds ! Mamma has some of them put in 
 ihe stable, and Blanche Jones's house is full 
 of beds, and they have to keep some of them 
 in the attic. Everybody has everything ; 
 we 've talked it all over. And there 's our 
 big express wagon, and our Henry Mann to 
 drive." 
 
 Mary paused for breath. 
 
 " Yes, papa, Dr. Gray's express wagon is 
 very large ; and we have a push-cart, you 
 know. So can't we go ? " coaxed Fanny, 
 true to first principles. 
 
 " What have / to do about it, little Miss 
 Townsend ? It seems you have already made
 
 g6 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 your plans and invited your guests. How 
 happened you to think to ask my permission 
 for the rent of the house." 
 
 " Finish your supper, Frances, and do not 
 sit there with your bread in the air," said 
 Mrs. Townsend in a decided tone. " You 
 forget that I am to be consulted as well as 
 your father. And that 's not all. I 've 
 no idea that Dr. Gray, or Major Patten, or 
 Mr. Jones, or Mrs. Abbott will consent to 
 . this camping out, as you call it ; so you must 
 not set your hearts on it, you and Flaxie." 
 
 But it chanced that every one of the pa- 
 rents did consent at last ; and one morning in 
 the latter part of June you might have seen 
 some very busy girls loading a push-cart and 
 an express wagon, with the help of their 
 brothers and Henry Mann, while Fanny 
 laughed almost continually, and Mary Gray 
 exclaimed at intervals,
 
 OLD BLUFF. 97 
 
 " O won't it be a state of bliss ? " 
 
 There were four bedsteads, eight chairs, 
 one old sofa, one table, one rusty stove, a 
 variety of old dishes, not broken ones, 
 beside a vast amount of rubbish, which the 
 mothers thought quite useless, but which 
 the daughters assured them would be "just 
 the thing for our charades." 
 
 " I 'm not going to Old Bluff to assist in 
 such performances as charades, so you may 
 just count me out," said Preston, who was 
 to take turns with Bert Abbott in being a 
 nightly guest at Camp Comfort ; since the 
 parents would not consent that the girls 
 should spend one night there alone. 
 
 "As if boys were the least /-protection," 
 said Lucy Abbott, Preston's cousin. 
 
 "Still they may be useful in getting up 
 games," returned Sadie Patten hopefully. 
 "And Jack Townsend's cornet is charming."
 
 g8 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " So it is ; it goes so well with your har- 
 monica. And we '11 make the boys stir the 
 ice cream," said Lucy, the head housekeeper. 
 
 There was an ice-house connected with 
 their cottage, and ice cream was to be per- 
 mitted on Sundays, and lemonade at plea- 
 sure. 
 
 " But where are the lemons ? " said Mary, 
 flying about in everybody's way. 
 
 " Oh, we shall buy fresh lemons every 
 morning of our grocer who comes to our 
 door," said Lucy grandly. " What I want 
 to know is, if my hammock was packed? 
 Children, did you see three hammocks in 
 that push-cart ? Boys, I hope you '11 hang- 
 up those hammocks before we get there! 
 Don't go racing now and spilling out things ! 
 There, I don't believe anybody thought 
 to put in that spider," added she anxiously, 
 as the five girls had bidden good-by to theit
 
 OLD BLUFF. 99 
 
 families in the cool of the morning, and were 
 walking in a gay procession toward their 
 house in the country. 
 
 " Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, 
 But to be young was very Heaven.'' 
 
 Old Bluff was a steep, though not very high 
 mountain on the Canada side, and if it is not 
 gone, it stands there yet, hanging defiantly 
 over the blue brook called the river Dee, and 
 throwing its huge shadow from shore to 
 shore. 
 
 Old Bluff is a stern, bareheaded peak, and 
 few are the flowers that dare show their faces 
 near it. It is chiefly the hardy wintergreen 
 and disconsolate little sprigs of pine and 
 spruce which huddle together along its 
 sides. 
 
 At the foot of this famous bluff, on the 
 New York side, stood General Townsend's 
 old-fashioned farm-house, a story and a half
 
 1OO FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 high, with a white picket fence around it, and 
 a red barn at one side. The house many 
 years ago had been white ; and the panes 01 
 glass in the windows were not only very 
 small, but weather-stained and streaked with 
 rainbow hues. London Pride or " Bouncing 
 Bet " grew near the broad front door-stone, 
 together with a few bunches of southern- 
 wood, which Dr. Gray thought had a finer 
 odor than any geranium. The front yard was 
 grassy, and the fence lined with roses of 
 various sorts. 
 
 It was the first summer for years that this 
 pleasant old place- had been vacant, and now 
 it might be applied for any day; but mean- 
 while the five girls, called "the quintette," 
 ^nd the three attendant cavaliers, called " the 
 trio," were welcome to rusticate in it, and 
 call it a " camp " if they chose. 
 
 After the furniture was set up, and there
 
 OLD BLUFF. IOI 
 
 had been a reasonable amount of play at hide 
 and seek in the barn, and the first supper had 
 been .eaten the tablecloth proving to be 
 too small for the table Mary went to one 
 of the front " rainbow-windows " to watch for 
 Preston. 
 
 " I mean to be a true woman." 
 
 This was what she usually said to herself 
 when resolved not to cry. But there was 
 something lonesome in the thought of going 
 to bed without kissing her mother.' 
 
 " Nobody else feels as I do, and I would n't 
 mention it for anything ; but I 'd give one 
 quarter of my pin money one whole dollar 
 to see mamma and Ethel." 
 
 She had supposed that in camping out all 
 care would be left behind. Her mother had 
 excused her from lessons and sewing, and she 
 had looked for "a state of bliss;" but it is 
 forever true and Mary was beginning to
 
 IO2 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 find it so that wherever we are, there is 
 "something still to do and bear." 
 
 Homesickness was a constitutional weak- 
 ness with Mary, but she disdained the cowar- 
 dice of running home ; she would be a "true 
 woman," and crack walnuts to please Lucy. 
 
 "Well, this is a hard-working family," said 
 Preston, arriving presently in state on his 
 bicycle, as Lucy and Sadie were engaged in 
 putting the supper dishes in the kitchen cup- 
 board. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Gray ; and we allow no idlers 
 here. Please may I ask what ails our window 
 shades, sir ? " 
 
 The poor old green-cloth curtains were 
 tearing away from the gentle clasp of Sadie 
 Patten's tack-nails, and leaning over from the 
 tops of the windows as if already tired of the 
 sun and wanting a little rest. 
 
 "Well, let's see your hammer."
 
 OLD BLUFF. IO3 
 
 " No, I 'm using it, I 'm a young lady now 
 and do as I please," cried Mary, springing up 
 from the kitchen hearth, and scattering her 
 walnuts broadcast, "catch me if you can." 
 
 " Is that so ? Well, then, now for a race 
 from here to the,sweet-apple tree. One, two, 
 three, begin!" And Preston started off. at 
 the top of his speed, Mary just before him',?', 
 her face aglow, her hair streaming in the \ 
 wind. As she skimmed over the ground, 
 shouting and laughing, she seemed for all the 
 world like a little girl, and not in the least 
 like a young lady. She was soon caught and 
 obliged to surrender the hammer, whereupon 
 Preston nailed the curtains neatly, and went 
 whistling about the house, giving finishing 
 touches here and there to the rickety furni- 
 ture. 
 
 " O thank you. You Ve been a great help. 
 Now, in return, you shall have a spring-bed
 
 104 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 to sleep on, the only one we have in the 
 house," said Lucy, with a mischievous glance 
 at Sadie. 
 
 The spring bed did not fit the bedstead, 
 and the chances were that it might fall 
 through in the night. 
 
 " You 're too tremendously kind, too self- 
 sacrificing," said Preston, suspecting at once 
 that something was wrong. 
 
 But he had his revenge. The bedstead 
 was extremely noisy, and the roguish youth, 
 unable to sleep himself on account of mos- 
 quitoes, rejoiced to think that he was proba- 
 bly keeping his cousin Lucy awake. 
 
 "Good morning, Preston, I hope you rested 
 well," said she, as they all met next morning 
 in the front yard. 
 
 " O very. it 's so quiet in the country," 
 returned he demurely. " Did you ever hear 
 anything so quiet ? "
 
 OLD BLUFF. IO5 
 
 " Never ; except possibly a saw-mill," said 
 Sadie Patten. " Lucy and I wondered if you 
 could be alive, you were so still ! " 
 
 " It was sort of frightful. No sound broke 
 the awful silence, save the warning voice of 
 the mosquito. By the way, girls, why dor*'t 
 you call this spot Mosquito Ranch ? " 
 
 " I '11 tell you what we used to call it at our 
 house, we always called it 'Down to the 
 Farm,' " remarked little Fanny. 
 
 "It ought to be Rose Villa," said Lucy. 
 "Just see our rose-tree that reaches almost 
 to the eaves. We measured it yesterday, 
 and it's seven feet high." 
 
 "That will do for a tree," said Preston, 
 plucking one of the pure, white roses and 
 thrusting it into his button-hole ; " but you 
 can't eat roses, you know." 
 
 He had built a' fire in the kitchen stove, 
 but the young ladies seemed to have forgotten
 
 IO6 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 entirely that there was such a thing in the 
 world as breakfast. 
 
 "O, yes, we must prepare our simple morn- 
 ing meal," said cousin Lucy. " Girls, where 's 
 my blue-checked apron ? Preston, we 've 
 heard there are lovely trout in that brook 
 across the field. Not the river-brook." 
 
 " Have you, really ? Then I go a-fishing ; 
 I 'd rather do that than starve. No, Fan, 
 you need n't come, I won't have anybody with 
 me but Flaxie." 
 
 Very proud was Mary that she could be 
 trusted to keep silence in the presence of the 
 wise and wary trout. It was beautiful there 
 by the brook-side, in the still June morning, 
 sitting and watching the " shadowy water, 
 with a sweet south wind blowing over it." 
 There was no house within half a mile, and 
 perhaps the Peck family and the Brown 
 family the nearest neighbors were still
 
 OLD BLUFF. ID? 
 
 asleep, for there was no sound, except the 
 "song-talk" of the birds, and the whisper of 
 the wind through the trees. It was a very 
 light whisper, reminding Preston of the 
 words, 
 
 "And then there crept 
 A little noiseless noise among the leaves,. 
 Born of the very sigh that silence heaves." 
 
 Mary's breath was a " noiseless noise," too ; 
 it hardly stirred the folds of her buff print 
 dress; it was the very "sigh" of "silence," 
 and Preston thought he should tell her so, 
 and praise her when they got home ; but it 
 happened that he forgot it. 
 
 The trout came, as they usually did when 
 he called for them ; but it must be confessed 
 that they were never eaten. Lucy put them 
 in the spider, Sadie salted, Fanny turned, and 
 finally Blanche Jones burned them. The 
 "morning meal" was as "simple" as need
 
 IO8 FLAXiE GROWING UP. 
 
 be, with cold bread and butter, cold tongue, 
 and muddy, creamless coffee, the milk having 
 turned sour. In the midst of their repast, 
 the young campers were surprised by a loud 
 peal of the door-bell.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CAMP COMFORT. 
 
 " BUTTONS," said Lucy to her cousin Pres- 
 ton, " you '11 have to go to the door." 
 
 "Yes," said Sadie, "as Buttons is the 
 only servant we keep, he must answer the 
 bell." 
 
 Preston obeyed, laughing. A droll little 
 image of dirt and rags stood at the door, 
 holding a ten-quart tin pail. 
 
 " Good morning," said Preston, surprised 
 at the shrewd, unchildlike expression of her 
 face, for she was perhaps twelve years old 
 and looked forty. The little girl seemed 
 equally surprised. "What's them things?" 
 
 109
 
 IIO FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 said she, pointing to Preston's spectacles. 
 " What do you wear 'em for ? " 
 
 " Do you want anything, little girl ? " 
 asked he, frowning, or trying to frown. 
 
 " I say, what do you wear glasses for ? 
 You ain't an old man." 
 
 "No matter what I wear them for " 
 very sternly*. "Do you want anything, 
 child ? " 
 
 "Yes, I came to ax you for some swifts." 
 
 " What do you mean by swifts ? " 
 
 " Lor now, don't you know what swifts is ? 
 Swifts is something folks reels yarn on." 
 
 "Well, we haven't any in this house, little 
 giri, and if that 's all you came for, you 'd 
 better run home." 
 
 " Hain't got no swifts ? " shuffling forward 
 with her small, bare feet, and peeping into 
 the house through her straggling locks of 
 hair. " Well, you 've got a spin-wheel, 
 hain't ye?"
 
 CAMP COMFORT. Ill 
 
 "No, we've nothing you want. You'd 
 better go." 
 
 By that time Mary and Fanny were at the 
 sitting-room door, curious to see the stranger. 
 
 " How d' ye do ? Do you children live 
 here all alone ? Guess I '11 come in," said 
 the waif, brushing past Preston, who did not 
 choose to keep her out by main force, and 
 entering the sitting-room where the break- 
 fast-table was spread. "I live over t'other 
 side of Bluff. My name's Pancake." 
 
 " Oh, I know who you are then," said 
 Fanny, not very cordially ; for she had heard 
 her father speak of a poor, half-starved, va- 
 grant family of that name ; harmless, he 
 believed, but not very desirable neighbors. 
 
 "My name's Pecy Pancake," added the 
 waif obligingly, and bent her snub nose to 
 sniff the burnt trout. 
 
 "Peace, probably," said Preston, aside.
 
 112 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " No, Pecielena. Hain't you got no lasses 
 cake ? Oh, what cunning little sassers ; '' 
 handling the salt glasses. " Where 's the 
 cups to 'em ? How came you children to 
 come here alone ? " 
 
 "We came because we cliose" said Mary, 
 with crushing emphasis. 
 
 "We wished to come," said Fanny, trying 
 to be as dignified as Mary, though she felt 
 her inferiority in this respect always. 
 
 In no wise disconcerted, Miss Pecielena 
 Pancake started on a tour of observation 
 about the room. 
 
 " You look like you 'd been burnt out or 
 somethin'. Who does your work ? Got any 
 cow? Oh, you hain't? Well, I've got a 
 cow. This here is my milk bucket. I '11 
 fetch ye some milk." 
 
 " No, no, no," exclaimed Lucy, in alarm. 
 " Our milk is to be brought from town."
 
 CAMP COMFORT. 113 
 
 " Is, hey ? Well, I '11 fetch you some sour 
 milk; five cents a quart." 
 
 " Don't take the trouble," said Sadie 
 mildly; "we are not fond of sour milk." 
 
 After a long inspection of the room, Pecy 
 gazed observantly out of the window. 
 
 " Look here ! What 's them things hang- 
 ing up in the trees ? Look like fish-nets. 
 I 've seen folks in Rosewood swing in just 
 such; be they swings? Well, I reckon I 
 must be a-goin'. But we paster our cow this 
 side the river, and I '11 call agin when I come 
 to milk." 
 
 " Is it possible that creature is really 
 gone ? " 
 
 " Hope she stayed just as long as she wished 
 to," said Lucy, shutting the door forcibly. 
 
 " Oh, she 's only half civilized, and does n't. 
 know any better," returned the more chari- 
 table Sadie.
 
 114 FLAXIE GROWING UK 
 
 "Young ladies," said Preston, flourishing 
 his arms preparatory to a speech, " it seems 
 you have settled in a refined and cultivated 
 neighborhood very ! I never knew before 
 why you could n't stay at home ; but I now 
 see that Laurel Grove is unworthy of you. 
 You pined for the advantages of elevated, 
 intellectual society, such as can be found 
 only at Old Bluff." 
 
 " Buttons," said Lucy, shaking the broom 
 at him, "we permit no impertinence from 
 servants. Go, pump a pail of water directly, 
 and then you may wipe the dishes." 
 
 Preston " struck an attitude " again. 
 
 " Honored ladies, there 's a limit to all 
 things. Buttons will cook, he will answer 
 door-bells, he will scrub, if need be; but 
 wipe dishes he will not, no, not if you flay 
 him alive ! Farewell ! Once again, fare- 
 well ! "
 
 CAMP COMFORT. 1 15 
 
 " Don't go, Preston," entreated Mary, as 
 her brother mounted bis " steed," the bicycle ; 
 "do stay to dinner." 
 
 " Could n't ; might starve." 
 
 " Fie, Buttons," cried the older girls, 
 " you 're no gentleman ! 
 
 "A servant is not expected to be a gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 "But do dine with us, Mr. Gray" 
 
 " Thank you, not to-day. Good-by, I '11 
 send Abbott to watch to-night." Preston and 
 his cousin Bert Abbott, being in college 
 together, called each other by their sur- 
 names, to the no small amusement of Bert's 
 sister Lucy. 
 
 " He calls sleeping here ' watching,' " 
 laughed Sadie, as Preston glided away, bow- 
 ing and waving his hand "But here comes 
 our grocer. Why, who is that with him ? " 
 
 For as the wagon stopped at the gate, Mr. 
 Fowler lifted a little girl over the wheels.
 
 Il6 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Kittyleen ! Kittyleen Garland ! Dear 
 me, where did you pick her up, Mr. Fowler ? " 
 
 For it was not to be supposed that Kitty- 
 leen came from home. She was an innocent 
 little truant, whose mother never objected 
 to her straying about the streets. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Kittyleen ; you can go 
 and play in the barn with Flaxie and Fanny," 
 said Lucy hospitably ; and then, turning to 
 Sadie, ''Now, what shall we order for din- 
 ner ? " 
 
 Sadie looked helpless. 
 
 "What would yon advise, Mr. Fowler? 
 Our fathers said we might have anything, and 
 they 'd settle the bills ; but I " 
 
 " Lemons," struck in Lucy, ashamed of 
 Sadie's weakness. 
 
 " A dozen, and some fresh butter. Lard, 
 perhaps ten pounds, for pies." 
 
 "Anything else," asked the grocer, deferen-
 
 CAMP COMFORT. 1 1? 
 
 tially, as he jotted these -orders into a note- 
 book. " I '11 bring them to-morrow a real 
 pretty situation here. What do you call it ? 
 Old Maid's Hall ? " 
 
 "No, a convent," said Sadie quickly, "for 
 we shall have to fast if you 're not coming 
 back with our groceries till to-morrow." 
 
 " Why. Miss Sadie, it 's all of two miles, 
 and it won't pay to come twice a day," said 
 the grocer, wiping his heated brows. 
 
 " Well, we shall have to fast, then. This 
 is a convent, as I told you, and we are nuns 
 Capuchin nuns for you know Capuchin 
 nuns are famous for fasting." 
 
 " So they be," laughed Mr. Fowler, though 
 it was the first time in his life he had ever 
 heard of a Capuchin nun ; " so they be," 
 and rode away laughing, to tell Dr. Gray and 
 Major Patten, whom he met in the village, 
 that those children were having a high old
 
 Il8 FLAX1E GROWING UP. 
 
 time down there at the cottage, and were 
 bright as pins, every one of 'em." 
 
 "They forgot to order meat, but hadn't I 
 better take down some Cape Cod turkey to 
 keep off starvation ? " He meant salt codfish. 
 
 " How do you suppose they '11 make way 
 with ten pounds of lard, though ?" 
 
 " Never mind," replied Dr. Gray, throwing 
 his head back to laugh ; " they beg not to be 
 interfered with, and we '11 let them have their 
 own way for a while." 
 
 Starvation was not likely to ensue for some 
 days, as the young campers had been bounti- 
 fully supplied by their mothers with bread, 
 pies, cake, and cold meats. 
 
 " Oh, housekeeping is just play and takes no 
 time at all," said Sadie Patten ; " now let 's 
 get up some charades and rehearse for to- 
 morrow night, and invite the three boys 
 Kittyleen must be amused, you know."
 
 CAMP COMFORT. IIQ 
 
 The charade which follows was their first 
 attempt of the sort at Camp Comfort, the 
 music between the acts being supplied by 
 Jack Townsend's cornet and Sadie Patten's 
 harmonica. 
 
 A PANTOMIME. 
 
 The stage was out of doors. Two posts 
 were driven into the ground, and between 
 them hung the red table-cloth suspended 
 from a fish-line. This was the drop-cur- 
 tain. 
 
 The audience, in chairs, or on the ground, 
 were directly in front of the stage. At a 
 whistle from the invisible depths the drop- 
 curtain was raised by Blanche Jones, re- 
 vealing the manager, Preston Gray, who 
 made a low bow, and said, " Ladies and 
 gentlemen, it is with profound pleasure that 
 I present to you the two stars of tragedy, 
 Madame Graylocks, of the Tuscarora Opera
 
 I2O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Company, and Don Albertus of the Cannibal 
 Islands." 
 
 The two "stars" -then step forward, to be 
 greeted by the audience with deafening 
 cheers. Miss Graylocks (alias Mary Gray), 
 her face and hands well stained with walnut- 
 juice, is clad in blue jacket, gray skirt and 
 red-topped boots (Sadie Patten called them 
 "galligaskins"), with a stove-pipe hat on her 
 head. An ounce of black worsted floats 
 down her shoulders for hair. She makes a 
 deep courtesy, Don Albertus (Bert Abbott) 
 a low bow. 
 
 He is an Indian chief, clad in a red and 
 green dressing-gown, with a feather duster on 
 his head for a war-plume. His face, like 
 Madame Graylocks', is a fine mahogany color. 
 
 Their " unrivalled performance," announces 
 the manager, "is to be a charade in two 
 syllables."
 
 CAMP COMFORT. 121 
 
 FIRST SYLLABLE. 
 
 The stage is now observed to be strewn 
 with sticks and twigs, to resemble the out- 
 skirts of a forest. No word is spoken ; but 
 as a tin pail hangs on a pole over something 
 that looks like a fireplace, it would seem that 
 the worthy couple are keeping house, and 
 that the squaw is preparing dinner. But as 
 yet there is no fire. The squaw collects 
 branches and twigs, lays them crosswise 
 under the tin pail. Her lord and master seats 
 himself on the ground, watching her in 
 scowling silence. The soup must boil ; but 
 how can she make a fire ? She rubs two 
 stones together Indian-fashion, but cannot 
 strike a spark. She tries with all her might, 
 dancing up and down and shaking her head 
 dolefully. The chief laughs at her, offering 
 no help, till she points in despair to the tin 
 pail, reminding him that at this rate they
 
 122 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 must starve. He rises then, pushes her aside, 
 and flashing his white teeth at her, seizes 
 the two stones, rubs them just once together, 
 and they instantly ignite (of course this 
 is done by means of a match hidden in his 
 sleeve.) The twigs are soon crackling under 
 the pail He points his finger disdainfully at 
 the poor squaw, who cannot make a fire. 
 She looks so brow-beaten and discouraged at 
 this, so unlike the spirited Flaxie Frizzle of 
 real life, that the audience laugh. Then the 
 drop-curtain falls. 
 
 SECOND SYLLABLE. 
 
 The soup has boiled, the chief has dined, 
 and now sits with hands folded, looking good- 
 natured. The pail is empty and lying bottom 
 upward on the grass. Enter his meek wife ; 
 takes the empty pail ; returns with it full of 
 water, slopping it as she walks. The thirsty
 
 CAMP COMFORT. 123 
 
 chief points to his mouth. She produces 
 a large iron spoon, fills it and gives him to 
 drink, afterwards helping herself. They sit 
 and sip from the spoon alternately, when 
 a "pale face" (Preston) enters, with a jug. 
 The chief starts up with eager delight. Pale 
 Face swings the jug slowly, to show that it 
 is full. The chief, smiling and obsequious, 
 advances to shake hands. The squaw looks 
 alarmed ; shakes her head at the jug, and 
 insists on giving Pale Face some water. Pale 
 Face declines it ; takes stopper out of jug 
 and presents it to chief's nose with an elo- 
 quent gesture, which means, "Now isn't that 
 good ? " 
 
 It is evidently whiskey, for the chief sniffs 
 the stopper, laughs and dances, pointing to 
 his mouth. 
 
 Squaw weeps ; is evidently a good temper- 
 ance woman ; holds the pail to her husband's
 
 124 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 lips. <He pushes her away, and begs in 
 dumb show for the whiskey. 
 
 Faithful squaw shakes her stovepipe hat, 
 wrings her worsted hair, chases Pale Face 
 around and around the stage, trying to make 
 him give up the fatal jug. In vain ; chief 
 is allowed to get it ; raises it joyfully to his 
 lips. 
 
 Faithful squaw, becoming frantic, seizes 
 the pail, and, overdoing her part, pours all 
 the water over Pale Face, drenching him 
 completely. 
 
 "Oo! Oo!" he gurgles. "If that isn't 
 just like you, Flaxie Frizzle ! " 
 
 Blanche hurries down the drop curtain. 
 Scene closes. 
 
 " I thought there was no talking in a pan- 
 tomime," laughed the audience.
 
 CAMP COMPORT. 12$ 
 
 THIRD SCENE. 
 The Whole Word. 
 
 It now appears that the whiskey which 
 Pale Face mischievously brought has wrought 
 its dreadful work. The proud war-plume of 
 the chief dangles ignominiously over his left 
 ear ; his copper-colored cheeks and nose are 
 blazing red (painted with Chinese vermilion). 
 He tries to walk; reels like a ship in a 
 storm. 
 
 His devoted wife has certainly tried her 
 very best to save him from this degradation ; 
 but, like any bad husband, he only hates her 
 for it, and has made up his drunken mind 
 to kill her. Seizing her by the yarn of the 
 head, he is actually scalping her with the 
 lemon-squeezer, when little Kittyleen, who 
 can bear no more, cries out, 
 
 " Stop, stop, you shan't hurt my Flaxie ! "
 
 126 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 This timely interference does not save the 
 squaw's life, however, or not entirely. Her 
 head comes off, or at any rate, the hat 
 and the ounce of worsted. But ere she falls 
 to rise no more, she turns with remarkable 
 presence of mind for a dying woman and 
 points to the whiskey-jug, scowling furiously 
 at it, as if to assure the audience that it is 
 the jug and not the lemon-squeezer that has 
 caused her death. 
 
 Curtain falls. 
 
 Before any one had time to say, " Now 
 guess the word," Jack Townsend, known by 
 the campers as " the Electric Light," on ac- 
 count of his red head, exclaimed, " It 's Fire 
 Water, is n't it ? That 's the Indian name for 
 whiskey. I guessed it by the waterfall in 
 the second syllable." 
 
 " No wonder you did ; there was water
 
 CAMP COMFORT. I2/ 
 
 enough in that syllable to put out all the fire 
 in the first one ! " exclaimed Preston, spring- 
 ing for his bicycle, to fly home and change 
 his wet clothes.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 
 
 "THERE'S that dreadful little Pancake 
 ringing again. She comes every morning, 
 Preston, and you must stop it," said cousin 
 Lucy, waving away half a dozen flies from 
 the sugar-bowl, with as much vehemence as 
 she could throw into her napkin. 
 
 " Troublesome flies," said Preston, without 
 heeding his cousin's request. " They say a 
 barn-swallow will eat a thousand a day ; 
 wish we had a barn-swallow." 
 
 Lucy went to the door a trifle crossly, 
 bread-knife hard in hand, as if she meant 
 to charge it at the foe. 
 128
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. J2Q 
 
 " And now what do you want ? " 
 
 For it seemed as if the little gipsy must 
 have exhausted all the errands that could 
 possibly be thought of 
 
 " Could I borry a piece o' stovepipe 
 'bout so long I '11 fetch it back to morry." 
 
 " A piece of stovepipe ! " 
 
 Lucy would not have smiled on any ac- 
 count. 
 
 " Yes, mammy 's sick, and our stovepipe 's 
 rusted off. I '11 fetch it home to morry." 
 
 And before Lucy had time to prevent it, the 
 little try-patience had rushed past her, and 
 effected an entrance into the breakfast room. 
 And, as if her own presence were not un- 
 welcome enough, she was followed by a 
 large, formidable-looking bee. 
 
 " Don't you be scared," said Pecielena, as 
 the children all screamed. " I '11 catch him 
 and kill him."
 
 I3O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " No, no," cried Mary. " I belong to the 
 society for cruelty to animals. I can't let 
 you kill him." 
 
 But Pecy had already caught the bee and 
 crushed him against the table-cloth with the 
 broom-handle. 
 
 Sadie looked at Lucy, the " lady abbess," 
 to see how long she meant to allow such be- 
 havior to go on ; but Lucy had become dis- 
 couraged, and was retreating to the kitchen. 
 
 " I must go and pick over the rice for 
 dinner. I suppose you don't know, Sadie, 
 whether three pounds will make pudding 
 enough for six people ? " said she, putting 
 the rice in the only kettle the house afforded, 
 and pouring over it two quarts of water. 
 No, Sadie did not know. 
 
 The unbidden guest, forgetting that her 
 cow had not been milked, stood looking on, 
 as saucy as an English cuckoo in a hedge-
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 131 
 
 sparrow's nest. It would not appear that 
 she intended the least harm ; she was simply 
 a little half-starved, wild creature, and the 
 sight of the raisins gave her a hungry long- 
 ing, which Lucy was unable to comprehend, 
 or she would have admired the poor thing's 
 self-denial in not teasing, and would have 
 given her gladly a handful of the coveted 
 sweets. 
 
 Camp Comfort, with its merry, careless 
 child-tenants and abundance of food, seemed 
 an earthly paradise to wretched little Pecy. 
 She had never ventured so boldly into any 
 other house, even the humble Browns and 
 Pecks, as into this one, which had no re- 
 sponsible grown people in it ; nobody really 
 old enough to command her to leave. 
 
 "Is this here your dog, Lucy?" said she, 
 caressing the pug. " His nose turns up some 
 like yours. I never see such a queer dog."
 
 132 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " And I never saw such a queer girl," said 
 Lucy, reddening. "Are you the protector 
 of this family, Preston Gray ? General 
 Townsend told mother he felt easy about us 
 with you here ; but if you have n't authority 
 enough (o keep tramps away, perhaps we'll 
 have to call on Bert or Jack." 
 
 This sarcasm aroused Preston. 
 
 " Miss Pancake," said he solemnly, " do 
 you see this gun ? " taking it from the corner. 
 " Perhaps you may not know that I am a 
 soldier in the regular army ; and when people 
 do not behave well it is my business to shoot 
 them." 
 
 Pecielena was a shrewd child, and only 
 laughed. 
 
 "You wouldn't doss shoot me," said she 
 confidently. 
 
 " Ah, you need n't be so sure of that. Wait 
 and see. Now I 'm going to ask you six
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 133 
 
 questions ; and do you step toward the door 
 every time you answer one. And if you are 
 not out of the door by the time the last one 
 is answered " 
 
 The sentence was left unfinished, but 
 there was an awful gleam of spectacles, a 
 threatening wave of the gun, and Preston's 
 appearance was most military and im- 
 posing. 
 
 " Do you know how to read, little girl ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then step." 
 
 She slowly obeyed, 
 
 " Do you ever go to church ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Do your father and mother ever go to 
 church ? " 
 
 " No," moving forward now of her own 
 accord, with some haste toward the door. 
 
 " O you 're gone, are you ? Well, little
 
 134 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 girl, you need n't call again. Do you 
 hear ? '' 
 
 " There, that 's splendid," said Sadie admir- 
 ingly. "To think what a little heathen she 
 is ! Do you suppose it 's safe to live near 
 such people ? " 
 
 " We shan't have any more trouble from 
 her, I 'm thinking," returned the "protector 
 of the family," feeling that he had vindicated 
 his character. 
 
 But little Mary was not quite satisfied. 
 This behavior was hardly in accordance with 
 the daily precepts and examples of her pa- 
 rents, who had taught her that she ought to 
 pity and try to help the poor, ignorant, and 
 unfortunate. 
 
 She pondered on the subject at intervals all 
 the morning, as she sat in the hammock, 
 amusing her devoted little friend, Kittyleen. 
 Pecy looked as if she never had a good time
 
 BUTTONS PREPARING TO "COOK A PIE." PAGE! 138.
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 135 
 
 in her life. Was it fair to drive her away ? 
 Could she herself do anything for the child ? 
 If so, what, and how ? 
 
 Fanny and Blanche were off in the meadow 
 making daisy-wreaths as a pretty surprise 
 for to-night's ice-cream party. In the house 
 Sadie arranged pond lilies in a cracked bowl, 
 repeating to Preston the stanza, 
 
 " From the reek of the pond, the lily 
 
 Has risen in raiment white, 
 A spirit of air and water, 
 A form of incarnate light." 
 
 " Sadie is too hifalutin' for anything," 
 thought Lucy, who had the rice pudding on 
 her hands. Ah, that pudding ! 
 
 Lucy had forgotten, or did not know, that 
 rice has a habit of swelling. Before long it 
 had risen to the top of the kettle and was 
 overflowing it, like an eruption of lava down 
 the sides of a volcano.
 
 136 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 <; Oh, look, look," cried Sadie, "it's like 
 the genius in the Arabian Nights, that flew 
 out when the bottle was opened, and grew 
 to a great steam giant ! " 
 
 " Can t stop to talk fairy stones. Get the 
 spider ! " cried Lucy. 
 
 She filled the spider from the bubbling, 
 dripping kettle. 
 
 " The pudding dish ! Big platter ! " 
 
 The white-hot "spirit of the mischievous 
 rice was just beginning his frolic. 
 
 "The pitcher ! " 
 
 The steam giant was still rising, growing, 
 dancing ever upward. 
 
 " Sugar bowl ! Pour out the sugar on the 
 table ! All the plates. O, dear, all the cups 
 and saucers !" 
 
 " Don't you want the teaspoons ? Here, 
 let 's stop this nonsense," said Preston. And 
 coming to the rescue, he swung off the kettle
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 137 
 
 and poured the bewitched contents upon the 
 grass at the back door. 
 
 "Oh, you extravagant creature! You've 
 wasted three pounds of rice and half a pound 
 of raisins, and killed the grass ! " 
 
 Preston gazed in inward consternation at 
 the ruinous white flood ; but he was not 
 going to confess his sins to cousin Lucy. 
 
 " That 's the proper way to serve rice pud- 
 ding," said he. "Always serve hot, and 
 make it go as far as you can. Now let the 
 children pick out the plums." 
 
 "But our pudding's gone." 
 
 " I '11 cook a pie," replied he, with alacrity. 
 " I cooked 'em last summer at the lakes fit to 
 set before a king." 
 
 Laughing was the very mainspring of life 
 at Camp Comfort ; but the girls had never 
 laughed yet as they did now, to see Buttons 
 in full swing preparing to "cook a pie." Lucy
 
 138 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 kindly summoned every member of the fam- 
 ily to witness the performance. The taking- 
 off of his coat, the pinning-up of his sleeves, 
 the tying on of an apron, the swathing of the 
 head in a towel, the cleansing of hands with 
 sand-soap and nail-brush ; and Buttons was 
 ready for action. 
 
 "Now," said he, drawing a long breath 
 and looking authoritatively through his spec- 
 tacles. " Now, bring on the flour and things, 
 and butter some plates. Lard, butter, knife, 
 spoon. Where 's your milk ? No, water 
 won't do. I prefer milk. Bring me half a 
 cup. - - Where 's your salt ? " 
 
 He carefully measured out a half-cup of 
 equal parts of butter and lard, and rubbed it 
 into a pint of flour. 
 
 " Now, cream tartar and soda. " 
 
 The girls brought them with a growing 
 feeling of respect. He stirred two teaspoon-
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 139 
 
 fuls of cream tartar into the flour, dissolved half 
 as much soda in the milk, mixed all together 
 rapidly, and rolled the mass on the board. 
 
 " I hope 't will be better than the pie we 
 had yesterday, that was baked in the spider," 
 said Mary, not heeding Lucy 's frown. 
 
 "How tough that was," said Blanche. 
 " What did Lucy put in to make it so tough ? " 
 
 "She didn't put in much of anything," 
 replied Fanny. " Jack said you could have 
 cut it with a pair of scissors, 'twas so thin." 
 
 " Hush, children, the rest of us could n't 
 have done as well," said Sadie, leaning over 
 the table, watching Preston's efforts. " What 
 shall you fill it with ? " 
 
 The question startled him : he had not 
 thought of the inside of the pie. 
 
 "Oh, almost anything," said he, carefully 
 trimming the edges of the lower crust. 
 
 "Are there any lemons ?"
 
 I4O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " No, Jack used a dozen yesterday for one 
 pitcher of lemonade," said Lucy. 
 
 " But we have some very green apples if 
 the children have n't eaten them all." 
 
 "Fly round then and slice 'em." 
 
 " How impertinent ! " cried the whole 
 family. " Take notice, this is the way But- 
 tons makes pies." 
 
 But they " flew round," all five of them, 
 and picked some very green currants off the 
 bushes in the back yard with merry good 
 will. 
 
 " Now, behold me fill my pies," said Pres- 
 ton, slowly sifting a cup of sugar over the 
 bottom crust before he put in the currants. 
 
 " May I behold, too ? " asked the grocer, 
 who stood at the side door. He had heard 
 the laughing half a mile away. 
 
 "Yes, sir, this is my cooking school." 
 
 "Well, go on with your lecture. You
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 14! 
 
 make a real pretty picture standing there 
 with that rig on." 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, I was about to 
 remark, it 's truly lamentable, the ignorance 
 of girls and women ! They put the currants 
 in first and then the sugar, and the juice spills 
 out all over the oven. See, here is the oven 
 ready. What have you been thinking of, 
 girls, to let that fire go out ? " 
 
 " You see how he acts, Mr. Fowler," said 
 Sadie, as Lucy put wood in the stove. 
 
 " But, as I was saying sugar first, tlien 
 currants, and the juice stays in. Bring some 
 water to pour in, Flaxie." 
 
 <: Can't I hire you to come and show my 
 women folks how to cook?" said the grocer, 
 laughing at the notion of placing sugar below 
 currants. 
 
 But there was reason in the " notion," as 
 the event proved, for the juice did " stay in,"
 
 142 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 and the pie would have done Preston great 
 credit, if it had not been trifled with in the 
 oven, like all the Camp Comfort baking. But 
 it was far superior to Lucy's spider-pie, and a 
 vote was taken on the spot for a change of 
 cooks. 
 
 Preston was jubilant, for was not this his 
 second victory for the day ? 
 
 The weather was sultry, and after dinner 
 everybody would gladly have reclined in the 
 hammocks under the shade, if Lucy had not 
 suddenly remembered that ice-cream always 
 suggests cake. Lemon-cake was made and 
 burned ; but the ice-cream party did not 
 come off on account of a heavy shower which 
 rose about six o'clock. 
 
 In the midst of it arrived the incorrigible 
 Pecielena Pancake with a new errand. 
 Preston was chagrined. Had he inspired her 
 with no real awe after all ?
 
 PUDDING AND PIES. 143 
 
 " Have you got an ambril ? " 
 
 An umbrella was useless now, for she was 
 thoroughly soaked and dripping with rain. 
 
 " I want to take it to the paster," said she, 
 " so 's to keep the milk dry ! " 
 
 " Go a.-way \ " exclaimed the campers in 
 concert ; and at a signal from Preston they 
 all clapped hands, and pursued the astonished 
 little vagrant to the -door. Everybody but 
 Mary. Somehow, as she looked at the poor, 
 wild creature, with the bright, restless, un- 
 happy eyes, a feeling of pity moved her. 
 
 " Be ye kindly affectioned one toward an- 
 other." Did that mean tramps, too ? She 
 had been thinking of it all day. She was 
 not sure. Of course, nobody wanted gipsy 
 children coming around to bother, especially 
 after they had been forbidden the house; 
 and Preston was a very, very good boy, every 
 body said so, and not likely to do anything
 
 144 - FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 cruel. Still, it could not be denied that Pecy 
 Pancake was a human being, and that it was 
 raining. On the whole, Mary thought she 
 had done well not to help "clap her out."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 
 
 WHAT an evening that was ! It had only 
 rained when Pecy came, but soon the rain 
 turned to hail, which the wind drove rattling 
 against the windows. It was a wild storm, 
 and they had sent the poor child forth, per- 
 haps to perish in it, simply because she was 
 disagreeable and wanted to borry " an ambril 
 to keep the milk dry." Probably she had 
 never held an " ambril " in her life, and could 
 not resist the temptation to ask for one when 
 the opportunity offered. 
 
 Preston went to the door and called to her, 
 but she had run like a deer, and was already 
 out of sight and hearing. 
 
 MS
 
 146 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 "It is too bad," said Lucy, "just look at 
 those hailstones as big as robins' eggs ! Did 
 that child have anything on her head ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Mary, pacing the floor ex- 
 citedly, " an old sunbonnet. But the hail- 
 stones will strike right through it. Don't 
 hailstones ever kill people ? " 
 
 " Oh, don't worry ! It did n't hail when we 
 sent her out, or we would n't have done it, of 
 course. But she *s as tough as a pine-knot ; 
 'twould take more than hailstones to kill 
 her" said Preston ; and then he whistled to 
 keep his courage up. 
 
 " Girls, if there 's an ' ambril,' let 's have it. 
 I 'm going to the ' paster,' wherever it is, to 
 find her." 
 
 And go he would and did, in spite of all 
 remonstrances. He was gone a long while, 
 and when he returned, the sky was clear 
 again.
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 147 
 
 " Yes, I found her. She 's all right. She- 
 had a quantity of ice-cream in her 'milk- 
 bucket ' to take home." 
 
 " Did she row across the river ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I stood and watched her safe 
 over. I tell you she 's smarter than chain- 
 lightning." 
 
 He did not relate that he had found her 
 crying bitterly, and that she had evidently 
 suffered not only from fright but from 
 wounded feeling. She had uttered no word 
 of complaint, but her silent tears had given 
 him a feeling of remorse he would never for- 
 get. He rose early next morning to caulk 
 the old boat which lay useless in the barn. 
 "Abbott" had promised to do it, but "Ab- 
 bott " and the " Electric Light " were both 
 inclined to forgetfulness, and all the hard 
 tasks were sure to fall, sooner or later, on 
 " the old man of the family."
 
 148 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 "I believe the concern is seaworthy now, 
 and suppose we row across the river," said 
 he, when breakfast was despatched. 
 
 There were six little cries of ecstasy. It 
 was " Dishes, take care of yourselves if you 
 can;" and, as for food, the flies seemed 
 disposed to take care of that. 
 
 It was a lovely morning, the atmosphere 
 being particularly bright and clear after last 
 night's storm. Gorgeous red and gold butter- 
 flies hovered in the air, a robin in the front 
 yard hopped along five steps, then stopped to 
 look at the campers, and the eastern morning 
 sun threw his shadow before him exactly his 
 own size. 
 
 " It 's a perfect state of bliss to go rowing 
 this morning," exclaimed Mary, as they en- 
 tered the boat. 
 
 "'Twas all we needed to make us per- 
 fectly happy," remarked Sadie Patten, long-
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 149 
 
 ing to repeat some poetry, but restrained by 
 fear of Lucy. 
 
 The river Dee, though remarkably deep, 
 was narrow and soon crossed. 
 
 " Let 's call on our Pancake friends before 
 we go any farther. What say ? " said Pres- 
 ton, helping the girls out of the boat. 
 
 It was just what he had come for; he 
 wished to set his conscience at rest about 
 Pecy ; and the girls had understood and sym- 
 pathized all the while, without a word being 
 said. 
 
 " Yes, let 's call," said they. 
 
 The Pancakes lived in a small red cottage. 
 Somebody says, " A red house blushes for 
 the man who painted it ; " but this house 
 had more to blush for than that, dirt and 
 disorder without and within. It was badly 
 weather-stained, and the windows were half 
 glass, half rags. Outside there were two
 
 I5O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 old tubs, a rake with stumpy teeth, and a 
 mop lying across some battered tin pans. 
 The children around the door were as 
 shaggy-headed as their playmate, a lame old 
 dog ; and indeed the only graceful object 
 about the premises was the soft blue smoke, 
 which was happy enough to escape from the 
 miserable house through the low chimney. 
 
 Here dwelt the family of Pancakes. The 
 father had once been a decent, though 
 "queer" man, living in Kentucky; but his 
 wife died, and her death seemed to turn his 
 brain and make him "queerer" than ever. 
 He married again, a miserable woman, be- 
 longing to the sort of people in the South 
 called " Crackers ; " and from that time he 
 did not seem to care what became of him. 
 After many wanderings he had settled at last 
 at Old Bluff, declaring he would not move 
 again. His wife could not read, and he had
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 151 
 
 given up books himself, and had no wish to 
 send his children to school or church. Pecy, 
 the eldest, was his first wife's daughter, and 
 by far the brightest of them all ; but the step- 
 mother made her a perfect drudge, and the 
 browbeaten child had scarcely a moment to 
 herself, except in going to and from the 
 "paster." Her loiterings at Camp Comfort 
 had already caused her several beatings. 
 The family lived chiefly by hunting and fish- 
 ing, had nothing to do with their neighbors, 
 and of course sank lower and lower, and 
 grew poorer and poorer, though to their 
 credit it must be said that they had never 
 yet been known to steal. 
 
 Half a dozen children stood staring at 
 Preston as he knocked at the cottage door. 
 It was opened after some time by Mrs. Pan- 
 cake, who wore a blue and yellow calico 
 gown, falling in straight lines to her ankles ;
 
 152 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 and though her feet Svere bare, her head was 
 covered by a monstrous pink sun -bonnet, 
 shaped like a flour-scoop. She had a cup in 
 her hand, and was stirring the contents with 
 a yellow spoon. 
 
 " Good morning," said Preston for his 
 whole party, who were grouped about him 
 in silence. 
 
 The woman did not return the greeting, 
 and they all felt that their presence was not 
 welcome. 
 
 "We came to inquire for your little girl. 
 We hope she did not take cold last night 
 in the rain ; did she ? " 
 
 " Wai, yes, she done took a fever cold," 
 replied the woman crossly, pointing to a 
 bunch of straw on the floor, whereon lay a 
 child smelling at a rag rolled in tar. It 
 was Pecy, and she immediately covered her 
 face.
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 153 
 
 " Can we do anything for her ? " asked 
 Lucy ; and Lucy's manner was very sweet 
 when she chose. Pecy had never happened 
 to hear her voice sound like this ; and some- 
 thing perhaps it was surprise caused 
 her to shake with convulsive sobs. 
 
 " I dun know," replied the woman, stir- 
 ring vigorously with the spoon. " I'm mix- 
 ing mandrake and 'lasses. I 'lowed she 'd 
 get wet goin' to the pastur' in the rain ; but 
 she won't mind me, sevin' (excepting) I licks 
 her." 
 
 " What a home, and what a mother ! " 
 thought the campers. 
 
 " Would you like to have us bring her 
 some lemons and sugar?" asked Preston. 
 
 There was a quick stirring of the bundle 
 of rags on the floor, and Pecy's rough head 
 and flushed face appeared for a moment 
 above the surface.
 
 154 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 "We are all sorry you are sick, Pecy," 
 continued Preston ; " we did n't know those 
 hailstones were coming, or we would have 
 kept you at our house." This was as near 
 a confession as he chose to make ; and, 
 closing the subject, " Now we '11 go back and 
 get the lemons and sugar. Good-by, Pecy." 
 
 " Did you ever in all your life ! " exclaimed 
 Sadie, when they were safely in the boat 
 again. Words seemed utterly powerless to 
 express the astonishment, pity, and disgust 
 of the whole party. " I 'm so glad you 
 thought of the lemons, Preston," said Lucy. 
 
 For there was an unspoken feeling with 
 her and all the rest, of responsibility for the 
 little creature they had thoughtlessly ill- 
 treated. Was there anything more they 
 could do for her ? They " wondered she 
 did n't die and done with it in such a home. 
 Perhaps her mother would kill her with her
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 155 
 
 doses." Yes; but who had driven her out 
 without mercy into the storm ? If she should 
 die, would Camp Comfort be free from 
 blame ? 
 
 They hastened back with ten lemons, all 
 they had of yesterday's purchase, and their 
 entire stock of sugar and flour. Not a we 1 
 of thanks did they receive or expect ; 1 i't 
 the look of joy on Pecy's dusky face was 
 reward enough. 
 
 " Oh, she 's all right," said Preston. " A lit- 
 tle sore throat, that 's all. And tar won 't 
 hurt her, or mandrake either. There, now, 
 spread your parasols, for the sun 's coming 
 out. Shall we row up stream or down ? " 
 
 The next Saturday evening Mary Gray was 
 sitting at her mother's feet, looking wistfully 
 in her face. She had come home to stay over 
 Sunday, and had just been repeating in a 
 sweet, clear voice, and with unusual feeling,
 
 156 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 the "verse" she was to speak at Sabbath 
 School concert : 
 
 " God wants the happy-hearted girls, 
 The loving girls, the best of girls, 
 
 The -worst of girls ! 
 He wants to make the girls his pearls, 
 And so reflect his holy face, 
 And bring to mind his wondrous grace, 
 That beautiful the world may be, 
 And filled with love and purity. 
 
 God wants the girls." 
 
 "I think that is just lovely, mamma. Only 
 it doesn 't seem somehow as if He could, 
 you know ! Not the worst of girls / " Then 
 interrupting herself, "Mamma, are there 
 any heathen in America ? " 
 
 " Yes, my daughter, I fear there are. But 
 why do you ask ? You can never have seen 
 any ? " 
 
 "Yes, mamma, I have seen them. They 
 live at Old Bluff. Their name is Pancake.
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 157 
 
 They don't belong anywhere, and they have n't 
 been there long. Preston, says Queen Vic- 
 toria ought to take care of them, but I sup- 
 pose she has n't heard of them yet, and they 
 are growing up heathen. Why, mamma, 
 they can't read, and don 't go to church ; they 
 fish Sundays, and dig worms and shoot 
 ducks." 
 
 And Mary went on with a graphic story of 
 Pecy, one of "the worst of girls," and the 
 bother they had had with her at Camp Comfort. 
 When it came to the adventure in the hail- 
 storm, Mrs. Gray looked pained. 
 
 " I knew you would n't like it, mamma, 
 when they clapped her out. She got sick, 
 too, and we all went to see her, and carried 
 lemons and sugar, and she was well in a clay 
 or two. But, oh, such a house, and such a 
 mother ! Preston says she thinks the earth 
 stands still, and the sun moves round it !
 
 158 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Her husband knows more ; but what I was 
 going to ask you is, Well, you remember 
 those Chinese babies " 
 
 Mary found it difficult to proceed. 
 
 "Yes, dear, I remember." 
 
 " You said I wanted to please Mrs. Lee, 
 and make her and the girls think I was gen- 
 erous. That was true; I know I did, and it 
 has made me ashamed ever since," said Mary, 
 a pink blush creeping over her forehead. 
 
 Her mother saw it, and wondered if any- 
 thing in all this naughty world is more inno- 
 cent than a child's blush? She was sure 
 there is nothing half so fair. 
 
 "Well, dear, go on." 
 
 "So I was thinking Are these Pan- 
 cake heathen almost as bad as the Chinese, 
 mamma ? " 
 
 "Yes, quite as bad, I should say." 
 
 " Well, then, could n't I give them all my
 
 THE HAILSTORM. 159 
 
 July pin-money, and not let anybody know it ? 
 That would make up for the Chinese babies ; 
 and I know I should feel better." 
 
 " Are you in sober earnest, Mary ? " 
 
 " Yes, mamma, I Ve thought and thought 
 about it. I 'm in real earnest this time, and 
 I don't want to be 'seen of men.' Do you 
 understand, mamma ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear, I understand. But you wanted 
 new gloves and new music." 
 
 " I know it, but I don't care. I can wait. 
 I 've thought it all over, and I shan't be sorry 
 this time. Are you willing ? " 
 
 " Perfectly willing." 
 
 Mrs. Gray considered a moment. " I will 
 consult with Mr. Lee or Miss Pike about this 
 family. They are both very wise in such 
 matters ; and if they approve you shall give 
 something to the little girl. And I promise 
 you, Mary, nobody shall know who gives it."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 
 
 " PAPA, we are starving. Do send us a 
 watermelon ! " wrote Mary one day, and 
 sent home the note by little Kittyleen, whose 
 visit was at last over. 
 
 Dr. Gray laughed again and again at this 
 pathetic appeal, and chancing to see Mrs. 
 Townsend picking strawberries in her gar- 
 den, he paused as he went by to tell her how 
 the children were suffering. 
 
 " They had plenty day before yesterday," 
 
 said she, laughing in her turn. " O doctor, 
 
 have you ever been out to their camp ? They 
 
 are the most disorderly, wasteful creatures : 
 
 160
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 161 
 
 and just think of the grocer's bills they are 
 running up." 
 
 "It's an extravagant piece of business," 
 assented the doctor ; " but they are having a 
 delightful time, something to remember all 
 their lives. It won't last more than two or 
 three weeks at farthest, and I for one shan't 
 mind the bills if the little souls don't starve 
 and are happy." 
 
 ." You are just like the general," returned 
 Mrs. Townsend, with a disapproving smile ; 
 and then went into the house to make with 
 her Own hands a strawberry short-cake for 
 Miss Pike and Julia Gray to take to Camp 
 Comfort in the sunshade carriage with the 
 other goodies. 
 
 It was quite the fashion for the parents, 
 aunts, cousins, and other friends to make 
 little donation visits to the quintette, who 
 always hailed both visitors and viands with
 
 l62 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 joy. But to-day the "favorite friend," Mis3 
 Pike, sister Julia, and the watermelon, com- 
 ing all together, were almost too much for 
 Mary. 
 
 Miss Pike was the most entertaining of 
 guests, and had brought a story with her, 
 written expressly for the Quintette Club 
 so she informed them as they all gathered 
 about her in a delighted group after dinner. 
 
 " Oh let 's have it now, this moment. Oh, 
 Miss Pike, you are a darling." 
 
 " Well, you may bring my hand-bag, Mary. 
 And will Julia read aloud while I sew ? For 
 I 'm rather hurried, you see." 
 
 She had already been over to Old Bluff, 
 measured Pecy Pancake with her eye, and 
 found she was about Fanny's size ; and now 
 the dear soul began to baste a calico frock for 
 the machine, while Julia read.
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 163 
 
 A FAMILY MYSTERY, 
 Revealed by a Cliimney. 
 
 Here I am, at my last gasp. I 've stood it 
 thirty-five years without flinching, but now 
 my time is come. Pleasant sky, you and I 
 must part. Bright sun, good by. Remember 
 I am but a "humble instrument," and forgive 
 me for smoking in your face. Look, iron- 
 hearted men, see how a hero dies ! For 
 I 'm dying in a good cause, and it 's not I 
 that will cry " Quarter." 
 
 Well, what would you do? Here I am 
 alone, shovel, tongs, cooking-stove, all 
 gone, that made life desirable ! Yesterday, 
 sir, you climbed atop of the house, tore off 
 the tin roof, and rolled it up into parcels like 
 so much jelly-cake. I looked on and saw 
 you, but the bitterness was past. The time 
 I could have wept was the day my family had
 
 164 FLAX IE GROWING UP. 
 
 notice to leave. Now they are gone, and 
 what care I what happens ? I saw you pull 
 down the walls, till the air was so thick with 
 plaster you could almost cut it with a knife. 
 I saw you rip up the chamber-floor as if it 
 had been a rag carpet. I saw you pull away 
 the door-steps, where she used to stand, 
 looking up and down the street. 
 
 I saw women and children coming to carry 
 away shingles and clapboards for kindlings. 
 Little by little, crash by crash, down went 
 the house, till there was nothing left stand- 
 ing but the other chimney and me and 
 this morning he was taken. Now I 'm sole 
 suryivor. I 'm red as far down as the cham- 
 ber fireplace; the rest of the way I'm white. 
 Some of you laughed, seeing me standing 
 up alone, with a white body and red head, 
 and said I looked "like a monument smil 
 ing at grief."
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 165 
 
 Well, yes, and my grief began to come 
 (or rather I began to come to grief) last 
 winter, when I first heard my family say the 
 " city fathers " were going to " improve the 
 street." As we were a frame house, one 
 story with basement kitchen, I feared, and 
 my family feared, our room would be con- 
 sidered better than our company. 
 
 " And if they do pull the house down, where 
 shall we go ? " asked poor Mr. Dean, as they 
 all sat about the sitting-room fireplace. He 
 was always asking his wife " what they should 
 do," and she a sick woman, coughing there in 
 her chair ! But Mr. Dean has been a broken- 
 down man ever since that affair of Dick's, 
 which I am about to relate. 
 
 There are three - Dean children, John, 
 Dick, and Nell. She I mean Nell has a 
 voice like a harp, and I 've heard it remarked 
 that her hair is a trap to catch a sunbeam.
 
 166 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Bless her, I always did my best to draw when 
 she laid the coal on the grate ! Her father 
 never could understand why she had so 
 much better luck than he had in making a 
 fire! 
 
 John, the oldest, is married, and living in 
 Boston. He has always paid his father's rent, 
 and the Deans have lived here ever since 
 Dick was born. I think they had a life-lease. 
 They could afford to laugh at their neighbors 
 on moving day. Who '11 laugh now ? I 'm 
 getting wheezy thank you, little boy 
 put on more shingles, it warms my heart. 
 
 Where was I ? O, speaking of the trouble. 
 It is the family mystery, twelve months old ; 
 and the odd part of it is, that I know more 
 about it than anyone else in the family. 
 
 A year ago, when Dick was attending the 
 academy, he came home one night with a 
 diamond ring on his forefinger.
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 167 
 
 " How splendid ! Whose is it ? " said Nell, 
 who was making buttered toast for supper. 
 
 "That's telling," says Dick. "What if 
 it's my own ? " 
 
 "Then it's paste." 
 
 " Paste, ma'am ? It 's a solitaire, worth 
 seven hundred dollars." 
 
 Nell let the toast burn. She put the ring 
 on her ringer and turned it round and round. 
 Knowing it was worth seven hundred dollars, 
 and its owner would n't take a thousand, she 
 saw at once it was an elegant affair. After 
 Dick had teased her a while, he told her it 
 belonged to James Van Duster, the wealthiest 
 boy in school. 
 
 " And he does n't know I 've got it. I 
 slipped it off his finger while I was helping 
 him out with his Greek. Won't it be a good 
 joke to see his long face to-morrow morning? " 
 
 " O Dick, how dared you ? " said Nell.
 
 l68 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 And then I smelt the toast burning again, 
 and heard her scraping it with a knife. 
 
 "The ring is too large for you, Dick. Let 
 me take it for safe keeping." 
 
 " You, Miss Nell ! Why, you 'd serve it up 
 in the toast-dip, just as you did the saltspoon 
 last week." 
 
 " But think, Dick, if anything should 
 happen to such a splendid jewel ! " 
 
 " There is n't anything going to happen ! 
 Don't fret ! If I was in the habit of losing 
 things now " 
 
 Dick checked himself, and I suspect he 
 blushed. Nell, with all her kindness of heart, 
 could n't help laughing, for Dick was as 
 harum-scarum as a hurricane. 
 
 I felt low-spirited from that moment, and 
 knew I should n't breathe freely till the 
 precious ring was fairly out of the house. 
 
 In the evening Dick came down into the
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 169 
 
 basement kitchen again to crack some butter- 
 nuts. He knelt by the brick hearth and began 
 to pound. I could have told him better than 
 that. There was a crack in a corner of the 
 fireplace, and all of a sudden off slipped that 
 ring and rolled into it. Of course ! 
 
 You could have knocked me over with a 
 feather. But, as true as I stand here, that 
 boy went whistling upstairs, and never missed 
 the ring till Nell asked what he had done 
 with it. 
 
 You may depend there were a few remarks 
 made then. Dick rushed upstairs and down, 
 and the whole family went to hunting. Next 
 morning a carpenter was sent for to take up 
 the boards under the dining-room table. 
 There was a hole in the carpet there, and 
 Dick was almost sure he must have dropped 
 the ring when he stooped to pick up his 
 knife.
 
 I7O FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 How I longed to be heard ! "I talked then 
 as plainly as I do now, but they thought it 
 was the wind "sighing down chimney." 
 
 Nell suggested that the ring might be 
 around the fireplace. 
 
 " You 're warm, my dear," whispered I, as 
 they say in games when you come near a 
 right guess 
 
 But, alas, they did n't look deep enough ; 
 there was a crack in the mortar under the 
 bricks, and there lies that ring now, at the 
 north-east corner, eight inches from the sur- 
 face ; there it lies to this day ! 
 
 Well, what 's a diamond ring? Nothing 
 but the dust of the earth ; no better than 
 Lehigh coal anyway. But James Van Duster 
 did n't think so. And the worst is to tell. 
 He wasn't quite so absent-minded as our 
 Dick took him to be ; he knew when the 
 ring was drawn off his finger as well as either
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 171 
 
 you or I would have known. And being a 
 high-spirited young fellow, with a narrow 
 mind, and envious of our Dick besides, what 
 should he do that morning but send an officer 
 after Dick. You could have heard Mr. Dean 
 groan across the street. The officer was very 
 polite, and listened respectfully to all the 
 family had to say ; but I've no means of 
 knowing whether he believed it or not. All 
 I can state with certainty is that old Mr. Van 
 Duster interfered, and said if Dick could pay 
 James the price of the ring, the matter should 
 be hushed up, and he need n't go to jail. 
 
 Seven hundred dollars ! Why, old Mr. 
 Dean just earned his salt by tending an 
 oven at a bakery ! There was nothing in 
 the house of any value but Mrs. Dean's 
 piano, and that would n't bring, more than 
 three hundred dollars. Of course it went, 
 though poor Nelly, how that took the
 
 1/2 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 life out of her ! and John made up the 
 rest of the money in the shape of a loan. 
 I did think John was hard-faced, wife or no 
 wife. He might have given Dick the money 
 for their mother's sake. It was too bad for 
 such a young fellow as Dick to be saddled 
 with a debt. 
 
 After this he could n't afford his time to 
 go to school; so he got a clerkship. He 
 tried to hold up his head with the best of 
 them till he began to see his mates turning 
 the cold shoulder. The Van Dusters had n't 
 kept their word. You see, the story had 
 been whispered around that Dick stole a 
 solitaire and sold it to a Jew who had run 
 off with it, and that was why James Van 
 Duster was obliged to stoop to wear a clus- 
 ter diamond. This was more than Dick 
 could bear. He ran away, and went to 
 work on a farm in New Jersey. He kept
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 173 
 
 writing home that his mother's letters were 
 his greatest comfort. She had perfect faith 
 that the mystery would be cleared up some 
 time, but- I think hope deferred was the 
 cause of her illness. 
 
 The old gentleman gave up at once, and 
 everything fell upon Nell. She found some 
 employment, embroidering and copying and 
 the like of that, and had most of the house- 
 work to do besides. I never knew such a 
 girl. All the amusement she seemed to 
 have was going to the door, standing on the 
 steps, and looking up and down the street. 
 
 (More shingles, boys, I 'm about out of 
 breath.) 
 
 Ah, well, we Ve been a suffering family ; 
 but we have our blessings after all ; not the 
 least of which is Nell. We have had some 
 cosy times this winter, too, popping corn 
 over the open fire ; but it 's all past now.
 
 1/4 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 The family went to Thirty-fifth Street yes- 
 terday. I don't know how I could have 
 borne it, but I 'm sustained by this reflec- 
 tion ; I am dying ; dying, too, for the good 
 of the family. 
 
 Yes, when 7 fall the ring will be revealed ! 
 To whom ? Aye, there 's the rub ! Not to 
 you noisy, rollicking boys, I hope and trust ! 
 I keep looking out for Nell. I heard her 
 tell her mother day before yesterday " she 
 should watch that kitchen chimney when it 
 went." 
 
 Bravo ! There she stands ! That 's Nell ! 
 That modest girl in the blue dress, with the 
 bird on her hat. Bravo, Nell ! I 'm reeling, 
 dear. I 've got my death-blow, I 've only 
 been waiting for you ! 
 
 Hammer away, ye iron-hearted men ! 
 Make an end of me now. I 'm dying in a 
 good cause, sirs, in a good cause, yes !
 
 MISS PIKE'S STORY. 175 
 
 Farewell, sweet Nell, North-East corner; 
 eight inches down ! Farewell, N-e-1-1 ! 
 
 Allow me to add that our friend, the late 
 Chimney, did not die with a lie in his mouth. 
 There was a ring. Nell found it. 
 
 Imagine the delight of the Dean family ! 
 The newspapers made it appear that the 
 Honorable Van Duster was very magnani- 
 mous, for he gave Dick the price of the 
 ring seven hundred dollars. Why not, 
 indeed ? Had n't Mr. Van Duster received 
 payment in full ? But he also gave back the 
 boy's good name, which was worth a thousand 
 diamond rings. 
 
 " But he can't make up to my Dick for the 
 two dreadful years he has borne. That suf- 
 fering can never be made up," said old Mr. 
 Dean, shaking the ashes out of his pipe. 
 
 I can't agree with him. Has n't the suffer-
 
 1/6 FLAXIE GROWING Uf. 
 
 ing been made up to Dick in patience 
 and thoughtfulness and charity for others ? 
 If you knew him you would think so, I know. 
 It was a hard experience ; but Dick is won- 
 drously improved. He is the staff of the 
 family now, and his loving mother says : 
 
 " The sorrows of his youthful days 
 Have made him wise for coming years."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 DINING OUT. 
 
 Miss PIKE had "a kind of a way with 
 her," as Mary expressed it, which was charm- 
 ing alike to old and young and rich and poor. 
 In the three days she spent at Camp Com- 
 fort she won the hearts of the Pecks, who 
 lived half a mile at the left ; also the hearts 
 of the Browns, who lived half a mile at the 
 right. And across the river, in that be- 
 nighted red cottage, her presence was felt 
 like a full beam of sunshine. 
 
 She was interested at once in poor, 
 wretched, overworked little Pecielena, who, 
 fihe saw, was far superior to her vagabond 
 
 i77
 
 178 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 brothers and sisters. She told the Quintette 
 she would like to become better acquainted 
 with the child, and suggested asking her 
 over to the camp to dinner. Pecielena had 
 never even knocked at their door since the 
 night of the hailstorm ; but Mary espied her 
 at a distance with her milk-pail, and ran up 
 to her, saying, with beaming good will, 
 
 " Pecy, we '11 let you come to our house to 
 dinner to-morrow if you want to ! " 
 
 Some people might not have considered 
 this a very cordial invitation, but Pecy was 
 more than satisfied with it, and, as her 
 mother had been won by Miss Pike, there 
 was no objection made to her going. 
 
 "What, eat dinner at that house ! Would 
 the girls let her sit down with them at the 
 table?" she wondered, feeling as if a star 
 had dropped at her feet. 
 
 Meanwhile Dr. and Mrs. Gray had arrived,
 
 DINING OUT. 1/9 
 
 their carriage fairly loaded with eatables, a * 
 huge plum pudding riding between them, to 
 make room for which little Ethel had to be 
 perched at their feet on a cricket. It was 
 Dr. Gray's first vacation, and he would have 
 preferred a day at the seaside ; but when 
 he heard that the Quintette would "break 
 camp " in another week, he decided to visit 
 Old Bluff and make Mary happy. 
 
 " How good you are, papa, and how I love 
 you ! " said she, springing into his arms, 
 while the girls rolled the dainties out of the 
 carriage like peas out of a pod. 
 
 " Oh, mamma ! " said she, when she had 
 her mother to herself at last in her own 
 hammock, " we are going to have that hea- 
 then I told ydlTof to dinner. And I haven't 
 said one word to Miss Pike about my giving 
 her my pin-money, not one word. There are 
 three poor families, Jack calls them a
 
 ISO FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 ' peck of brown pancakes ; ' he means the 
 Pecks, and Browns, and Pancakes, you know. 
 And the girls want to do something for all 
 of them, and I suppose they think I 'm cold- 
 hearted and stingy," 
 
 " Well, you don't like them to think that, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do, mamma ; it 's no more than 
 fail," said Mary stoutly. 
 
 Mrs. Gray had never in her life felt so well 
 pleased with her young daughter as at this 
 moment. It was very clear now that Mary 
 had been honestly disgusted with her own 
 conduct, and had chosen this way to punish 
 herself for her false charity and love of 
 display. 
 
 " And I '11 not spoil it aft* by praising 
 her," thought the discreet mother. 
 
 When she went into the house with Mary 
 the girls began to talk about Pecielena. They
 
 DINING OUT. l8l 
 
 were rather " in fancy " with her since Miss 
 Pike had taken her up. 
 
 " You don't know how she has improved, 
 auntie, since we came here," said Lucy. 
 " She used to be saucy ; but somehow she 's 
 afraid of us now, and we never see her unless 
 we meet her, or go where she is." 
 
 " And she does n't look the same in the 
 new calico dress, does she, Miss Pike ? " said 
 Sadie. " She is n't handsome, but she has 
 soft, graceful ways like a kitten, and like a 
 swan, and like a gazelle ; and you ought to 
 see her row a boat ! If mother 's willing, I 'm 
 going to give her my dark green ladies-cloth 
 dress to make over." 
 
 " I 'm going to show her how to bang her 
 hair," said Fanny. " And I have a Kate 
 Greenaway dress she may have." 
 
 This, with a side-glance at Mary. " I 'd 
 as lief let her have my handbag as not," 
 remarked Blanche Jones.
 
 1 82 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Shan't you do anything, Flaxie ? You 
 have so much money of your own." 
 
 Mrs. Gray could scarcely restrain an 
 amused smile as Mary replied in a low voice, 
 
 " Perhaps I '11 do something I '11 see " 
 and then had to steal out of the room for 
 fear she might add, 
 
 "Yes, indeed I''m going to do more than 
 all the rest of you put together. And if 
 mamma's willing, I shall teach Pecy her 
 letters too ! " 
 
 The young lady under discussion was now 
 seen approaching the house. 
 
 "Why, this can't be the little savage 
 you 've said so much about," exclaimed Mrs. 
 Gray, looking out of the rainbow-window. 
 " But what a thin, old looking face ! " 
 
 Pecy was in holiday attire. Miss Pike's 
 calico dress fitted her well, and it seems she 
 iid possess a pair of whole shoes, and had
 
 DINING OUT. 183 
 
 borrowed her mother's pink sun-bonnet. 
 To say she was modest and well-behaved 
 would be incorrect ; but Mrs. Gray did not 
 find her as bold and impudent as had been at 
 first represented. 
 
 Though twelve years old, she had never 
 dined at a really civilized table ; so now, when 
 she found herself seated before an array of 
 brown linen tablecloth, clean dishes, and 
 tolerably bright silver, she was obviously 
 quite bewildered. In her eyes, Dr. Gray was 
 a wonderful man, while his wife and daugh- 
 ters were no less than queen and princesses. 
 As for Miss Pike, she would probably have 
 classed her among angels, if she had ever 
 heard of such beings, which is hardly likely 
 
 She could not manage a fork, and in at- 
 tempting it, often dropped her food upon the 
 tablecloth. But it was worst of all when 
 the pie was served. Lucy, annoyed by her
 
 184 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 shocking manners, refrained from looking at 
 her, as she said with cool politeness, 
 " Pecielena, will you have a piece of pie ? " 
 Now Miss Pancake, painfully aware of her 
 awkwardness, was resolved for once to show 
 her quickness and dexterity. Never stopping 
 to see that Lucy was about to put the pie into 
 a little plate, she held out her hand lor a 
 piece ! You can hardly believe it, but that 
 was the fashion at home. She always held 
 out her hand when she wanted a piece of pie, 
 and her mother flung it into her outstretched 
 palm. How should she know that this was 
 not the custom that prevailed in polite 
 society ? But when Lucy passed her a little 
 plate with freezing dignity, she understood 
 her mistake in a moment. She saw, too, that 
 Mary and Fanny were exchanging glances of 
 surprise and amusement. They would have 
 laughed aloud if they had dared.
 
 DINING OUT. 185 
 
 All this was too much for poor little Pecy, 
 who had tried to behave so well. She sprang 
 up suddenly, overturned her chair, and, never 
 stopping for her pink sun-bonnet, ran for dear 
 life out of the house. She did not cease 
 running till she reached the bank^and then 
 she sat down upon some stones and cried. It 
 was an immense relief to get away from such 
 overstrained gentility. Pie in little plates 
 indeed ! As if her own hand were not clean 
 enough 'to hold a piece of pie ! 
 
 She looked up at dear Old Bluff, and 
 thought "what a grand thing it is to be a 
 mountain and not be expected to know any- 
 thing about the fashions. She was sure she 
 should never wish to see anything more of 
 polite society. 
 
 But here was the strangest part of it ; she 
 had a secret longing 'for this very thing ! 
 She had already begun to wash her face every
 
 1 86 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 day, and, as far as possible, to comb her 
 tangled hair. She was ashamed of her un- 
 couth language, which she now perceived was 
 quite unlike that of the young people at 
 Camp Comfort. Oh, if she could talk like 
 them ! If she could read, as they did, out of 
 books ! Above all, if she only knew how to 
 " behave ! " There was a skill in carrying a fork 
 to one's mouth with food on it, that passed. 
 her comprehension. How could people do 
 it ? It seemed vastly harder to her than 
 walking a tight-rope, which she had seen 
 done at a circus ! 
 
 Oh dear, to think they had invited her to a 
 grand dinner, and she could n't " behave," and 
 they had laughed at her ! There was some- 
 thing in this little girl, or she would not have 
 been capable of so much shame. She had 
 naturally a shrewd, bright mind, which, of 
 course, had been running to waste. She had
 
 DINING OUT. iS/ 
 
 seen cities and villages whizzing by her from 
 car-windows in travelling, but her little life 
 had all been spent in backwoods places, and 
 Camp Comfort was really almost her first near 
 view of civilized life. Now she was waking to 
 a new world. If she could only get to it, if 
 she could only live in it ! She had as many 
 eyes, ears, and fingers as anybody else : Why 
 could n't she be a nice, proper, polite little 
 girl, say, for instance, like that pretty 
 Flaxie Frizzle, who had treated her so kindly 
 and offered to take her with her to church ? 
 
 Flaxie's mother was so nice ! Perhaps she 
 had cows, and needed a little girl to milk 
 them ? But, oh dear, she would n't hire any- 
 body that could n't " behave ! " 
 
 After this, Pecielena hovered about Camp 
 Comfort longingly, but would have got no 
 farther than the door-stone, if Flaxie had not 
 come out and urged her to enter.
 
 l88 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 " Oh yes, come in, Pecy, come in, and have 
 some raisins." 
 
 It had been a bright day for Pecy when the 
 Quintette came to Camp Comfort, a brighter 
 day than she knew. Miss Pike had a "plan " 
 for her. She meant to win the child away 
 from her "queer" father and all her misera- 
 ble surroundings, and have her reared care- 
 fully in a good Christian family. But Miss 
 Pike did not speak of this at present. She 
 never talked much about her plans till they 
 were well matured. 
 
 Pecielena nearly cried her eyes out on the 
 day the Quintette "broke camp." They 
 were obliged to go, for the Hunnicuts of 
 Rosewood wanted the house. There was a 
 farewell dirge on the cornet and harmonica, 
 a touching farewell to Old Bluff and the 
 River Dee, the big barn, the front door-yard, 
 the white rose-bush, the spreading elms, the
 
 DINING OUT. 189 
 
 "broad-breasted old oak tree " in the corner; 
 and the Quintette and the Trio retired again 
 to private life. 
 
 " Pecy," said Mary, as the little waif stood 
 at the gate with her milk pail, looking mourn- 
 fully at the grass, " Pecy, my mamma said I 
 might ask you to go to my house at Laurel 
 Grove. Would you like to go ? " 
 
 " O may I ? " almost screamed Pecy. " But 
 I hain't got no gown and bunnit to wear." 
 
 " Don't think about your clothes, dear ; 
 you look well enough ; and when you get to 
 my house, I '11 make you have a good time ; 
 now see if I don't." 
 
 Thus Pecy's tears were happily dried. In 
 a few weeks the " camping out " had become 
 "old times;" a dear and fragrant memory, 
 which the young people loved to recall. It 
 had been a delight to the whole eight while 
 it lasted ; but what it had been to the poor
 
 IQO FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 families about Old Bluff, the Pecks, Browns, 
 and Pancakes, who shall say ? 
 
 And one day it occurred to busy Miss Pike 
 that she had n't quite enough to do, for she 
 was only teaching school, studying French 
 and German, and getting up Christmas fes- 
 tivals for Laurel Grove and Rosewood chil- 
 dren ; but she must try to manage a Christmas 
 Tree for the little outcasts of Old Bluff. 
 There would be no leisure for it on Christmas 
 Eve, the twenty fourth ; neither on the twen- 
 ty-fifth ; but the twenty-sixth would answer 
 every purpose. 
 
 And where could the tree be put ? Where 
 else but in the parlor of Camp Comfort itself ? 
 The Hunnicuts were willing at once. They 
 had but one child, James, and he was ready 
 to help. So were the Quintette and the Trio 
 of course, and so were all their relatives and 
 friends.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF. 
 
 ONE of the handsomest evergreens in the 
 Townsend woods was chopped off close by 
 the roots, and dragged to Camp Comfort by 
 Preston Gray and James Hunnicut. The 
 Old Bluff children had thought and dreamed 
 of nothing else for three weeks but that 
 mysterious Christmas Tree. If it were to 
 be placed in a church they would have 
 shrunk from approaching it, for they were 
 afraid of churches, and none of the Pan- 
 cakes, except Pecielena, and none of the 
 Pecks, except Charlie, had as yet been drawn 
 inside a Sunday school. Or if the Tree were 
 to be in some elegant house at Laurel 
 
 191
 
 192 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 Grove, in a cold parlor with high walls and 
 solemn marble fireplaces, where rich chil- 
 dren congregate, what would these little 
 savages have cared for it then ? 
 
 But this Tree, their Tree, was to be at 
 Camp Comfort, a place they knew all about ; 
 and the doorkeeper, Mr. Hunnicut, was to 
 let in every child big enough to walk. As 
 for the grown people, they would be let in 
 also, but merely that they might take care 
 of the children ; for that is all that is wanted 
 of grown people at Christmas time ! 
 
 Mary Gray, Ethel, Blanche Jones, and 
 Fanny Townsend watched the clouds for 
 the whole three weeks. At one time it 
 rained, and there were fears of "a green 
 Christmas ; " then it grew cold, and the first 
 snow came ; but before there was much 
 time to be glad of the snow, the wind has- 
 tened along and heaped it into drifts.
 
 CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF. 193 
 
 " It is n't likely they '11 have a Tree if it 
 keeps on drifting like this," said Dora, who 
 was apt to grow melancholy when she baked 
 for " two days running ; " and surely the 
 turkeys, pies, puddings, and cakes that had 
 gone through her hands were enough to 
 drag her spirits very low. Mary did not 
 know then of her own new piano that was 
 to be given her on Christmas, and Dora's 
 prediction seemed to spoil all her holiday 
 joy ; but her father reassured her. 
 
 " Why, my child, we '11 have the Tree if 
 the drifts are as high as your head." 
 
 Ethel said there were to be " three Christ- 
 mases this year ; one at Laurel Grove, one 
 at Rosewood, and one at Old Bluff." Yes, 
 and the wind held its breath, and the sun 
 and moon shone for every one of the three ! 
 
 When the night came for "Old Bluff 
 Christmas," a rose-blue sky bent above the
 
 194 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 white splendor of the world. The Pecks, 
 Browns, and Pancakes arrived in wild haste 
 at Camp Comfort before Mr. Hunnicut was 
 ready to let them in. They would have 
 thought him very unfeeling if they bad 
 known that he was finishing his turkey sup- 
 per while they waited in the entry. 
 
 But they did not wait long. There was a 
 loud jingling of sleigh-bells, the blowing of 
 a cornet, and the eight campers and lame 
 Sadie Stockwell appeared in a boat-sleigh 
 drawn by two horses adorned with about 
 twenty strings of bells. Behind this impos- 
 ing equipage glided the modest sleighs con- 
 taining meek parents and friends. 
 
 Then the warm, cheerful parlor was thrown 
 open at last, with its dozen lamps, blazing 
 and twinkling as if they knew it was 
 Christmas ; and the beautiful tree was 
 seen shining like all the stars in the sky.
 
 CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF. 195 
 
 Aloft, on the topmost part, stood a little 
 waxen image called the Christ-child ; and if 
 it had been alive it could hardly have smiled 
 more benignly. 
 
 Dr. Gray, stepping forward, told the 
 delighted little guests to look up at it and 
 think of it as the image of the little child 
 Jesus, the good Lord, who loved little chil- 
 dren while on earth, and who loves them still 
 in heaven. 
 
 Then Mr. Lee made a short prayer, so very 
 simple that the youngest ones could under- 
 stand ; but they scarcely listened for looking 
 at the Tree. 
 
 Ah, you that have seen Trees ever since 
 you can remember, they are an old story to 
 you ; but if you were a poor little child, and 
 this were your first vision of one, can you 
 fancy what it would be to you then ? 
 
 Pecielena Pancake, with hair neatly braided
 
 196 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 and falling down the back of her new frock, 
 stood gazing at it in amazement. To her it 
 was a beautiful marvel. Her mother would 
 not come, but had sent all the children, and 
 they were dragging and tugging at her skirts. 
 
 Mrs. Peck and Mrs. Brown were there, 
 women who could not "behave" much better 
 than Pecy, but they were quiet and smiling, 
 and they and all the poor rough little chil- 
 dren stood looting at the shining Tree with 
 lips far apart and very wide eyes. 
 
 Some of the children were trembling be- 
 tween smiles and tears, so eagerly hoping 
 they had presents coming, so sadly afraid they 
 had n't ! 
 
 The Quintette and the Trio looked aroun i 
 benevolently. Mary Gray felt little thrills of 
 joy at seeing the children so happy now, and 
 knowing they would be happier still when the 
 presents were given out. She was glad
 
 CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF. 19? 
 
 Sadie Stockwell was there and enjoying it ; 
 but it had not occurred to her to be proud be- 
 cause she herself was the one who had thought 
 of inviting Sadie. Neither was Mary con- 
 scious this evening of her own looks and 
 appearance. Her tresses "of crisped gold" 
 floated unheeded, and she never once looked 
 down at her new dress to admire the color. 
 Her thoughts were not of herself but of 
 others. 
 
 " Dr. Gray," said Miss Pike in a low tone, 
 " don't you agree with me that this last year 
 has been the best year of Mary's life ? I be- 
 lieve she will grow up to be a thoughtful, 
 unselfish woman." 
 
 "Flaxie Growing Up. f>1 said Dr. Gray, 
 blinking and rubbing his eyes. 
 . "Why, Doctor, she is thirteen," laughed 
 Miss Pike. " But, there, they are beginning 
 to sing, and we must go over and join them."
 
 IQ8 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 After the Christmas songs, Dr. Gray and 
 General Townsencl took off the presents. 
 
 There was a joyous scream from Pecy 
 Pancake when she received her new cloak of 
 gray beaver cloth, with buttons to match, and 
 a collar that would turn down or up. The 
 name of the giver was not mentioned, and 
 the studied look of innocence on Mary's face 
 was edifying to behold. 
 
 Preston's expression was equally innocent 
 when Charlie Peck bounded forward and 
 seized his brave sled, " Clipper," and when 
 little Bobby Brown shouted over his first pair 
 of skates. 
 
 And every time a present was taken off the 
 Tree, the little candles on the branches seemed 
 to twinkle more gayly, and the Christ-child 
 to smile more benevolently than ever. 
 
 "Susy Peck," called Dr. Gray from the 
 right, and a wee girl stepped forward with
 
 CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF. 199 
 
 fingers in her mouth, and snatched snatched 
 is the word the pretty doll which Julia 
 Gray had dressed in a scarlet frock, with 
 fashionable hood, fur tippet, and muff. Like 
 most of the others, Susy forgot to say 
 "Thank you;" but I suppose it was the 
 proudest moment of her life. 
 
 " Baby Peck," called out General Townsend 
 from the left ; and another wee girl toddled 
 up, holding on by her mother's finger, and 
 got a handsome box so full of sugarplums 
 that the cover would hardly stay on. And 
 then the overjoyed baby had to be taken in 
 her mother's arm, lest, in running about to 
 show the box, she should get under every- 
 body's feet. 
 
 "Johnny Brown," called Dr. Gray. And 
 Johnny's cnin dropped on his little ragged 
 necktie with delight at receiving a pretty 
 jacket with linen collar and cuffs, while the
 
 200 FLAX1E GROWING UP. 
 
 " Electric Light " was suddenly extinguished 
 behind the parlor door. 
 
 But why enumerate the presents which fell 
 like ripe fruit from that bountiful Tree ? The 
 pretty dresses, the modest needle-books, the 
 painted drums, beautiful books and pictures, 
 and all manner of gay toys ? 
 
 And why describe the long table which the 
 ladies had spread with every dainty that these 
 children had ever sighed for; real turkey 
 with genuine "stuffing;" cakes of all sorts 
 and sizes, with fruit and without ; some as 
 yellow as gold, and some buried under snow- 
 drifts of frosting ; and best of all, perhaps, to 
 them, large mounds of candy, oranges, nuts, 
 and raisins ! 
 
 "Worth while, is n't it ? " said the " Electric 
 Light," nodcling his head, which was nearly as 
 bright as a Christmas candle. 
 
 " Our coming out to Camp 'Comfort was a
 
 CHRISTMAS AT OLD BLUFF. 2OI 
 
 great thing for the neighbors," remarked Bert 
 Abbott to James Hunnicut, who wished he 
 had been one of the immortal three ! 
 
 And Preston took off his spectacles and 
 wiped them, remarking that the glass was 
 apt to grow dim in a warm room. 
 
 " Now strike up your cornet, Jack ; take 
 your harmonica, Sadie, and let 's have an- 
 other Christmas song." 
 
 " Merry, merry Christmas everywhere! 
 Cheerily it ringeth through the air; 
 Christmas bells, Christmas trees, 
 Christmas odors on the breeze ; 
 Merry, merry Christmas everywhere ! 
 Cheerily it ringeth through the air. 
 .Deeds of Faith and Chanty; 
 These our offerings be, 
 Leading every soul to sing, 
 Christ was born for me ! " 
 
 The poor, little, happy, wondering children 
 listened in delight, as the music seemed to 
 hover and float on wings over the heads of the 
 people, losing itself at last in the upper air.
 
 2O2 FLAXIE GROWING UP. 
 
 And, all the while, the beautiful Christmas 
 Tree stood glittering with its little candles, 
 its green branches stripped of everything but 
 their straight pine needles. 
 
 Miss Pike looked up from the children's 
 happy faces to the Christmas Tree, and her 
 soul was stirred with awe. For the Christ- 
 child on the topmost bough seemed alive ; 
 and behold how large he grew, how grand 
 and beautiful ! It was as if the heaven of 
 heavens could not contain him : yet he was 
 there in that very room, and she beheld him ! 
 His arms were extended in blessing, his lips 
 moved, and in a still, small voice, as if it fell 
 from the sky, she heard him say once more : 
 " Suffer little children to conic unto me, and 
 forbid tJicin not ; for of such is the kingdom of 
 heaven."
 
 SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLK'S" 
 
 'Ok. "tot a fascinating creature.- uid the Man u> lh M 
 
 hnmb and fore-Bneur. and ginnj at thi lady boarder. 
 
 tpBCooa cut to "unu PBODT-S PtTiWAr SEMB.'.
 
 SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS'. 
 
 LITTLE GRANDMOTHER. 
 
 "Grandmother Parlen when a lillle girl Is the subject. Of course 
 thai was ever so long ago, when there were no lucifer matches, anil 
 stt-el ami tinder were used to light. CUM; when soda and saleratus ho)' 
 never been heard of, but people made their pearl .ash by soaking 
 liiii-nt crackers in water ; when the dressmaker and the tailor and 
 the shoemaker went from house to house twice a year to make the 
 dresses and coats of the family ." Transcript. 
 
 LITTLE GRANDFATHER. 
 
 "The story of Grandfather Psirlo.n's little boy life, of the days of 
 knee breeches and 'cocked hats, full of odd incidents, queer and quaint 
 sayings, and the customs of ' ye olden time. 1 These stories of SOPHIE 
 MAY'S arc so charmingly written that older folks may well anuiso 
 themselves by reading then). The same warm sympathy with child- 
 hoed, the earnest naturalness, the novel charm of the preceding 
 volumes will be found in this." Christian Messenger. 
 
 MISS THISTLEDOWN. 
 
 "One of tho queerest of the Prudy family. Read the chapter 
 heads arid you will see just how much fun there must be in it . 
 Ply's Heart,' 'Taking n Nap, 1 . 'Going to the Fair,' 'The Dimple 
 Dot,' 'The Hole in the Home,' 'The Little Richclor,' 'Fly's Blue- 
 beard,' 'Playing Mamma,' 'ButterSpots,' ' Polly's Secret,' 'The Snow 
 Man,' -The Owl and the Humming-Bird.' 'TaT.re of Hunting Deer,' 
 nd 'TUc Parlen Patch work.'".
 
 (SOPHIE MAY'S LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS> 
 
 "MTUE GRANDMOTHER. 
 "St.. ptoH it. thejljgtfftt ^^^SL 
 
 umi ratmrs rtTAWAT SEMES'
 
 '< FLASH FEIZZLE. TWIH CODSIHS. 
 
 'DOCTOB PAPA. rLAXiirs KITTTLEEH. 
 
 UTTLE PrrCHERS. JLAilE CSOWO9 OP,
 
 This book is DUE on the last 
 date stamped below 
 
 JUL I 8 19 
 
 
 , -..I'll 1 '< 
 
 980 
 
 DUEIWO 
 
 10m-ll,'50(2555)47 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 PZ7 
 
 Flaxie growing up 
 
 PZ7