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Sweet Little Maid, A

<h2>CHAPTER V</h2><h3>Rock</h3> Florence and Dimple with Rubina and Celestine were on the back porch, when they heard some one whistle, and looking up they saw Rock coming around the corner of the house. "Good-morning," said he, "I am glad you have your dolls here; I want to measure them." "Why, are you a tailor?" asked Florence. "No," he said, laughing, "only a cabinetmaker. I came over with a message from my mother to Mrs. Dallas, and a message from myself to yourselves." "Have you given mamma her message?" asked Dimple. "Yes," said he, "and mine is that I want you to come to tea with me to-morrow evening, you and Florence and the dolls." "Oh, the dolls?" "Yes, the dolls. I will come for you, if you like, at half-past four." "Did mamma say we might go?" "Yes, so it is all settled." "Now," said Florence, "we must make the dolls new frocks. Do tell us, Rock, what they ought to wear." Rock turned over the bits of stuff in Dimple's box. "White, I think," said he; "that dotted stuff is pretty." "Oh, yes," said Dimple, "and I have plenty of that. We can trim them with this lace, Florence, and they will look so cool and nice. Now if mamma only had time to make hats for them!" "I'll make them hats," said Rock. "You! Whoever heard of boys making hats for dolls?" "Did you never hear of a man-milliner?" asked Rock. "And men dressmakers? I have. You stay here. I am going to ask your mamma for something to make them of." "Isn't he a funny boy, Florence?" said Dimple, as Rock disappeared; "but I think he is real nice. Just hand me the scissors, won't you? Which way does this go, so, or so?" "So, like mine. Are you going to make a wide or a narrow hem?" "Wide, if the stuff is long enough; it isn't so easy, but it looks nicer. I wonder if mamma will give us fresh ribbons for sashes for the dolls; it will set them off so." "Here comes Rock," exclaimed Florence, "and what has he in his hand? An old bonnet, I declare." "Now," said Rock, "if you will tell me where I can get a basin of water, I will make the hats." "With water?" "I shall need water. Don't get up—Bubbles will get it for me," as Dimple was about to put down her work. Bubbles brought the water, and Rock began to rip the straw bonnet to pieces; then he dampened it a little and sewed it into shape, once in a while dampening it more to give it the right turn. "Will you have a wide or a narrow brim?" he asked. "Oh, just a between brim. Don't you say so, Florence? Isn't it going to be lovely? Did you ever?" as Rock handed her a cunning little straw hat. "Now for the other one," said he, and he soon had that done too. A little narrow ribbon and one or two flowers made the hats perfect. "Oh, Rock, I wish you were my brother," sighed Dimple, as she held her doll off at arm's length to admire her. "Rubina, you are a darling! blue is so becoming to her." "I almost wish I had trimmed mine with blue," said Florence, regretfully. "Oh, I think pink is just as pretty," exclaimed Rock, "and it is nicer not to have them both alike." "Now what are you making?" asked Dimple, as Rock went on sewing straw. "Baskets." "Baskets, for the dolls?" "Yes, for the dolls, or you either." Dimple put her chin in her hands, and leaned on the arm of her chair to watch him. "How clever you are," she said, "I wish you were my brother, really and truly, Rock." "Well, we will pretend I am," said he. "What shall I put in your basket, sister?" They all laughed. "I don't think it will hold much, but Rubina can put her work in it. See, if I pin her arm up so, she can hold it nicely. There! I must go and show it to mamma. I'll tell her to adopt you," she called back, as she ran off. "Now I must clear up my scraps," said Rock, as he put the finishing touches to the other basket. "Mamma says I may gather you some flowers," said Dimple, coming out again with a pair of shears in her hand, "and she says you are a very nice boy, a very nice boy indeed." Rock laughed. "She wouldn't think so sometimes," said he. "I don't believe she wants to change children with my mother." "I hope she doesn't want to," said Dimple, then added quickly, "Not that I don't think your mother is real nice, Rock, but you know I am so used to mine, and she is so used to me." "Of course," said Rock, laughing again. "I didn't mean they would change, or even think of it." "Now let's get the flowers," said Dimple; "you are to choose just which you like best, Rock," she said, leading the way to the flower-beds. "The pansies are almost gone, but there are plenty of roses yet, and verbenas, and mignonette, and lots of things." "Now, Rock," she said, as they went along the paths, "you are not choosing the prettiest ones at all. I believe you are picking out the mean ones on purpose; I am going to choose myself. You tell me, Florence, whenever you see a real pretty one." Florence promised, and Rock looked on, secretly pleased that they had taken the matter into their own hands. "What lovely ones you have chosen," he said, as Dimple gave the bunch into his hands. "Thank you so much." "And thank you, so much," said the girls, "for the hats, and the baskets, and the invitation." "You will be sure to be ready," he said, at the gate. "Yes," they cried. "At half-past four?" "Yes." "Good-bye sister; good-bye Florence; go in out of the sun." "Good-bye, brother, keep in the shade." Then they laughed and ran in. "Mamma," cried Dimple. "Auntie," cried Florence, "where are you?" "Upstairs," she answered. Up they ran. "Aren't you glad Rock is such a nice boy? Did you know boys could be so nice?" asked Dimple. "I knew they could be, if they would." "What makes Rock so gentle and kind and good?" "Well, you see he lost his father when he was a very little boy, and as he had no brothers or sisters, he has been almost constantly with his mother, who is a very gentle, sweet woman." "He doesn't seem silly, like some boys, either," said Florence. "I know a boy, we call him 'sissy,' he is so like a girl, and he is always whining, and afraid of cold, and afraid of sun, and afraid of everything." "I shouldn't like that kind of boy," Dimple said. "Mamma, I call Rock my brother, and he calls me sister." "Do you?" said her mother, smiling. "Now it is nearly dinner time, and if I am not mistaken, two little girls have left their new dolls, and all their scraps and things out on the porch." "So we have!" they exclaimed, and ran down to bring them in. The dolls were laid away in state for the next day, and at the sound of the dinner bell, the girls went into dinner. Since the arrival of Florence, Dimple had not cared so much for Bubbles' society, and sometimes objected to her joining in their plays; but Bubbles, by the gift of Floridy Alabamy, did not lack amusement, and could be seen almost any afternoon happy with her doll. She was singing, "Oh Beurah lan', sweet Beurah lan'," when Florence called her. "What are you singing, Bubbles?" "Beurah lan'," answered she. "What does she mean, Dimple?" "Beulah land. She does get things so twisted. We are going down to the woodshed to play till mamma calls us. Bubbles, do you want to go?" Of course Bubbles did, and off they all went. The woodshed was at some distance from the house, out in a shady place. Sometimes the children took to the roof, which could be reached by a ladder, and it was the scene of many a bold adventure. "What shall we play?" said one to another. "Injun," suggested Bubbles. "No Indian for me, since my foot was cut," said Dimple. "Let's play house afire and climb from the roof by the ladder," said Florence. "No. I tell you," said Dimple, "let's be cats and get on the roof and meow like they do at night." They all laughed at this, but finally concluded to be birds, and build nests, but why they should take leaves in their mouths and climb up and down the ladder no mortal could tell, and indeed this proved too tedious a play, and they all sat on the roof to decide what should be done next. Suddenly Dimple cried out, "What is that sticking out of your pocket, Bubbles?" Bubbles quickly thrust whatever it was back into her pocket, and was about to get down from the roof, when Dimple held her. "Pull it out, Florence," she cried. "I believe it is a piece of my dotted swiss." And so it was. Bubbles had been consumed with envy ever since Rubina and Celestine had been dressed in white, and wanted her doll to look as well. "You wicked girl! where did you get it?" asked Dimple, fiercely. "Found it." "You didn't. You've been stealing. You stole it from my box that I left on the porch yesterday. What were you going to do with it?" "Make a frock for Floridy Alabamy." "Why didn't you ask for something, instead of taking what didn't belong to you?" Bubbles was silent. "You told a story too, when you said you found it; you knew it was mine. Now you shall be punished." "Don't send me to the orphan asylum," said Bubbles, beginning to cry. "No, I promised mamma I wouldn't say that any more, but I shall do something. The idea of your doing such a thing. I really used to think you were nearly as nice as a white girl, Bubbles, but I never shall any more." Bubbles cried harder than ever at this. "What shall I do with her, Florence?" "Take her doll away," suggested she. "No! no! no! please, Miss Dimple, I'll never do so no mo'," cried Bubbles, "'deed an' 'deed, I won't. Don't take my doll away. Yuh can whup me, or anything, but don't tek my doll away," and she hugged it tightly, rocking herself to and fro. Dimple thought a moment, and then she said, "I know, we will leave her here on the roof, and take the ladder away; then when mamma calls us to come in to dress we can put the ladder up again, and she can get down." This was agreed upon, and Bubbles was left a lofty prisoner. The girls concluded to play under the big tree, and became so interested, that when Mrs. Dallas called them, they forgot all about Bubbles, and went into the house without ever putting up the ladder. "What am I to wear, mamma?" asked Dimple. "One of my white frocks, I suppose." "Yes," said her mother. "And Florence too? Yes, Florence, then we will all be in white, the dolls too. Mamma, may we carry our parasols?" "I don't think you will need them. Now, girls, I will send papa for you at half-past eight. I hope you will be little ladies, both of you, because I particularly want Mrs. Hardy to be fond of you." "Oh, we will, mamma," replied Dimple. "Why do you want Mrs. Hardy to like us?" "I have two or three reasons. I will tell you when we have more time. Hurry, Florence, and put on your frock; it is nearly half-past four." "I hear a carriage stopping," said Dimple, running to look out of the window. "Florence, Florence, do hurry; Rock and his mother are out there in a carriage; where are the dolls? Oh, here they are. No, I have yours," she exclaimed, excitedly. "Do, Florence, get your hat." "Don't get so excited, Dimple," said her mamma. "There is no need of such a very great hurry as all that. I will go down and you can come. You have forgotten your handkerchief; it is there on the bureau." "Oh Dimple, do get me a handkerchief too," said Florence, "I don't know what does make me so behindhand." "Perfume, Florence?" "Oh, please, just a wee drop, not too much." "Cologne or violet water?" "Which have you?" "Cologne." "Then I will take the other. Now I'm ready. Do you suppose we are going anywhere? It is such a little way to drive only to the house." "I don't know," returned Dimple. "We'll soon see." "We thought it was so early," said Mrs. Hardy, "that we could take a short drive before tea, if these little girls would like it." "Indeed we should," said they. "Then help them in, Rock," and they were soon seated, driving off in great style, dolls and all. Meanwhile, Bubbles sat on the roof, waiting for their return. As the time passed and they did not come, she made desperate efforts to get down, but there was no way. The tree that shaded the woodhouse was just too high to reach, and she crept to the edge of the roof, making up her mind to jump, but when she saw the distance her heart failed her, and she went back. "Leave me hyah all night I s'pose," she said, "mebbe I'll ketch cold and die; 'most wisht I would." Then she heard some one call "Bubbles, Bubbles," but though she answered, no one came. It grew later and later, the sun went down, and the sky sent up little puffs of pink clouds overhead. Bubbles lay down on her back, and looked up at the sky. After a while a little star peeped out, then disappeared again, like a baby playing "Peep-bo." "Angels, I reckon," thought Bubbles. "S'pose I won't git to see 'em. I reckon stealin's awful," and she lay there in a very humble frame of mind, till she went to sleep. "I cannot imagine what has become of Bubbles," said Mrs. Dallas to her husband when he came in. "I have looked the house over, and called her in every room. She cannot have followed the children. I never knew her to stay away before." "Hasn't Sylvy seen her?" "Not since early in the afternoon. She has looked all over the place." And so she had, but Bubbles asleep on the roof did not hear her, and a limb of the tree on that side hid her from view. "There is no reason for her running off, is there?" asked Mr. Dallas. "No, unless Dimple has threatened her with the orphan asylum once too often. She has such a horror of it, but I told Dimple not to do so again, and she is not apt to disobey." They sat down to tea, and it was not till an hour later that Bubbles was rescued. Mr. Dallas was walking about, smoking his cigar, when he heard a doleful voice saying, "Lordy, Lordy, I'm awful bad, just as well go to the orphan asylum. I'll die hyah, plum sho'." He listened, and walked a few steps further. "Wisht I was a bird, I'd get up in that tree. Wisht I had a raven to bring me my supper—s'pose I'll starve and die too." "Bubbles, where are you?" called Mr. Dallas. He heard a scrambling overhead, and a delighted reply. "Hyah, sah, hyah I are." He looked all around, but did not see her. "Where are you?" he asked again. "On de roof, sah." "Well, why don't you get down?" "Ain't no way, sah; done tucken de ladder away." Mr. Dallas found the ladder and put it up, and Bubbles scrambled down. "Have you been up there all this time?" "Yas, sah," said Bubbles, scraping one foot with the bare toes of the other. "How came the ladder down?" "Miss Dimple done did it." "What for?" Bubbles hung her head, and began scraping the other foot. "What for?" again asked Mr. Dallas. "I done stole," said Bubbles, solemnly. "And she did it to punish you?" "Yas, sah." Mr. Dallas could not avoid smiling, but he said, "Go along into the house, and tell Mrs. Dallas about it. By the way, didn't you see any one looking for you?" "No, sah. I was clean tuckered a waitin', and I went to sleep. 'Specs they came then mebbe." "Well, go along," he said, and Bubbles started for the house, while he went to bring home the girls. <hr class="major" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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