FLAXIE FRIZZLE.
Her name was Mary Gray, but they called her Flaxie Frizzle. She had light curly hair, and a curly nose. That is, her nose curled up at the end a wee bit, just enough to make it look cunning.
What kind of a child was she?
Well, I don’t want to tell; but I suppose I shall have to. She wasn’t gentle and timid and sweet like you little darlings, oh, no! not like you. And Mrs. Willard, who was there visiting from Boston, said she was “dreadful.”
She was always talking at the table, for one thing.
“Mamma,” said she, one day, from her high chair, “your littlest one doesn’t like fish; what makes you cook him?”
Mamma shook her head, but Flaxie wouldn’t look 036at it. Mrs. Willard was saying, “When we go to ride this afternoon we can stop at the slate-quarry.”
Who was going to ride? And would they take the “littlest one” too? Flaxie meant to find out.
“Do you love me, mamma?” said she, beating her mug against her red waiter.
“When you are a good girl, Flaxie.”
“Well, look right in my eyes, mamma. Don’t you see I are a good girl? And mayn’t I go a-riding?”
“Eat your dinner, Mary Gray, and don’t talk.”
Her mother never called her Mary Gray except when she was troublesome.
“I want to tell you sumpin, mamma,” whispered 037she, bending forward and almost scalding herself against the teapot, “I won’t talk; I won’t talk a tall.”
But it was of no use. Mrs. Willard was not fond of little girls, and Mrs. Gray would not take Flaxie; she must stay at home with her sister Ninny.
Now Ninny—or Julia—was almost ten years old, a dear, good, patient little girl, who bore with Flaxie’s naughtiness, and hardly ever complained. But this afternoon, at four o’clock, her best friend, Eva Snow, was coming, and Ninny did hope that by that time her mamma would be at home again!
Mrs. Gray and Mrs. Willard rode off in the carriage; and the moment they were gone, Flaxie began to frisk like a wild creature.
First she ran out to the gate, and screamed to a man going by,—
“How d’ye do, Mr. Man? You mustn’t smoke! My mamma don’t like it!”
“Oh, why did you do that?” said Ninny, her face covered with blushes, as she darted after Flaxie, and brought her into the house.
“Well, then, show me your new picture-book, and I won’t.”
As long as she was looking at pictures she was out of mischief, and Ninny turned the leaves very patiently.
But soon the cat came into the room with the new 038kitten in her mouth, and then Flaxie screamed with terror. She thought the cat was eating it up for a mouse; but instead of that she dropped it gently on the sofa, purring, and looking at the two little girls as if to say,—
“Isn’t it a nice baby?”
Flaxie thought it was; you could see that by the way she kissed it. But when she picked it up and marched about with it, the old cat mewed fearfully.
“Put it down,” said Ninny. “Don’t you see how bad you make its mother feel?”
“No. I’s goin’ to carry it over the bridge, and show it to my grandma; she wants to see this kitty.”
Ninny looked troubled. She hardly dared say Flaxie must not go, for fear that would make her want to go all the more.
“What a funny spot kitty has on its face,” said she, “white all over; with a yellow star on its forehead.”
“Well,” said Flaxie, “I’ll wash it off.” And away she flew to the kitchen sink.
“What are you up to now?” said Dora, the housemaid, who stood there with her bonnet on. “You’ll drown that poor little creetur, and squeeze it to death too! Miss Ninny, why don’t you attend to your little sister?”
Dear Ninny! as if she were not doing her best! 039And here it was half-past three, and Eva Snow coming at four!
“O Dodo!” said she, “you’re not going off?”
“Only just round the corner, Miss Ninny. I’ll be right back.”
But it was a pity she should go out at all. Mrs. Gray did not suppose she would leave the house while she was gone.
As soon as “Dodo” was out of sight, Flaxie thought she could have her own way.
“O Ninny! you’re my darlin’ sister,” said she, with a very sweet smile. “Will you lem me carry my kitty over to grandma’s?”
“Why, no indeed! You mustn’t go ’way over the bridge.”
“Yes I mus’. ’Twon’t hurt me a tall!”
“But I can’t let you, Flaxie Frizzle; truly I can’t; so don’t ask me again.”
Flaxie’s lip curled as well as her nose.
“Poh! I haven’t got so good a sister as I fought I had. Laugh to me, Ninny, and get me my pretty new hat, or I’ll shut you up in the closet!”
Ninny did laugh, it was so funny to hear that speck of a child talk of punishing a big girl like her!
“Will you lem me go?” repeated Flaxie.
“No, indeed! What an idea!”040
“I’ve got fi-ive cents, Ninny. I’ll buy you anyfing what you want? Now lem me! ’Twon’t hurt me a tall!”
Ninny shook her head, and kept shaking it; and Flaxie began to push her toward the closet door.
“Will you get my hat, Ninny? ’Cause when I die ’n’ go to hebben, then you won’t have no little sister.”
“No, I will not get your hat, miss, so there!”
All this while Flaxie was pushing, and Ninny was shaking her head. The closet-door stood open, and, before Ninny thought much about it, she was inside.
“There you is!” laughed the baby.
Then rising on her “tippy-toes,” Flaxie began to fumble with the key. Ninny smiled to hear her breathe so hard, but never thought the wee, wee fingers could do any harm.
At last the key, after clicking for a good while, turned round in the lock; yes, fairly turned. The door was fastened.
“Let me out! out! out!” cried Ninny, pounding with both hands.
Flaxie was perfectly delighted. She had not known till then that the door was locked, and if Ninny had been quiet she would probably have kept fumbling away till she opened it. But now she wouldn’t so much as touch the key, you may be sure. O, 041Flaxie Frizzle was a big rogue, as big as she could be, and be so little! There she stood, hopping up and down, and laughing, with the blind kitty hugged close to her bosom.
“Laugh to me, Ninny!”
“What do I want to laugh for? Let me out, you naughty girl!”
“Well, you needn’t laugh, but I shall. Now I’s goin’ to grandma’s, and carry my white kitty.”
“No, no, you mustn’t, you mustn’t!”
“You can’t help it! I is a goin’!”
“Flaxie! Flax-ee!”
Oh! where was Eva Snow? Would she never come? There was a sliding-door in the wall above the middle shelf, and Ninny climbed up and pushed it back. It opened into the parlor-closet, where the china dishes stood. If she could only crawl through that sliding door she might get out by way of the parlor, if she did break the dishes.
But, oh dear! it wasn’t half big enough. She could only put her head in, and part of one shoulder. What should she do?
It was of no use screaming to that witch of a Frizzle; but she did scream. She threatened to “whip her,” and “tie her,” and “box her ears,” and “burn up her dollies.”042
But Flaxie knew she wouldn’t; so she calmly pulled off her boots and put on her rubbers.
Then Ninny coaxed. She promised candy and oranges and even wedding-cake, for she forgot she hadn’t a speck of wedding-cake in the world.
But, while she was still screaming, Flaxie was out of sight and hearing. She hadn’t found her hat; but, with her new rubbers on her feet, and the blind kitty still hugged to her bosom, she was “going to grandma’s.” She ran with all her might; for what if somebody should catch her before she got there!
“The faster I hurry the quicker I can’t go,” said she, puffing for breath.
It was a beautiful day. The wind blew over the grass, and the grass moved in green waves; Flaxie thought it was running away like herself.
It was half a mile to the bridge. By the time she reached Mr. Pratt’s store, which was half way, she thought she would stop to rest.
“’Cause he’ll give me some candy,” said she, and walked right into the store, though it was half full of men,—oh fie! Flaxie Frizzle!
Mr. Jones, a lame man, was sitting next the door, and she walked boldly up to him.
“Mr. Lame Jones, does you want to see my kitty?”
He laughed, and took it in his hands; and another man pinched its tail. Flaxie screamed out:043
“You mustn’t hold it by the handle, Mr. Man!”
Then they all laughed more than ever, and clapped their hands; and Mr. Jones said:
“You’re a cunning baby!”
“Well,” replied Flaxie, quickly, “what makes you have turn-about feet?”
This wasn’t a proper thing to say, and it made Mr. Jones look sober, for he was sorry to have such feet. Mr. Pratt was afraid Flaxie would talk more about them; so he frowned at her and said:
“Good little girls don’t run away bare-headed, Miss Frizzle! Is your mamma at home?”
“Guess I’ll go now,” said Flaxie; “some more folks will want to see my kitty.”
Mr. Pratt’s boy ran after her with a stick of candy, but could not catch her. She called now at all the houses along the road, ringing the bells so furiously that people rushed to the doors, afraid something dreadful had happened.
“I fought you’d want to see my kitty,” said the runaway, holding up the little blind bundle; and they always laughed then; how could they help it?
But somehow nobody thought of sending her home.
When she reached the bridge she was hungry, and told the “bridge-man” she was “fond of cookies.” His wife gave her a caraway-cake shaped like a leaf.
046“I’m fond o’ that one,” said she, with her mouth full. “Please give me two ones.”
Just fancy it! Begging food at people’s houses! Yet her mamma had tried to teach her good manners, little as you may think it.
“I don’t believe she has had any supper. It must be she is running away,” said the bridge-man’s wife, as Flaxie left her door. “I ought to have stopped her; but somebody will, of course.”
But nobody did. People only laughed at her kitty, and then passed on.
Soon the sun set, and the new moon shone white against the blue sky. Flaxie had often seen the moon, but it looked larger and rounder than this. What ailed it now?
“Oh, I know,” said she, “God has doubled it up.”
She had changed her mind, and did not want to go to her grandmother’s.
“Mr. Pratt fought I was bare-headed, and grandma’ll fink I’m bare-headed. Guess I won’t go to g’andma’s, kitty, I’ll go to preach-man’s house; preach-man will want to see you.”
On she went till she came to the church. Then she sat down on the big steps, dreadfully tired.
“Oh, my yubbers ache so! Now go s’eep, Kitty; and when you want to wake up, call me, and I’ll wake you.”047
This was the last Flaxie remembered. When the postmaster found her, she was sitting up, fast asleep, with her little tow head against the door, and the kitty in her arms. The kitty was still alive.
Eva Snow had come and let Ninny out of the closet long ago; and lots of people had been hunting ever since for Flaxie Frizzle. When the postmaster and the minister brought her home between them, Mrs. Gray was so very glad that she laughed and cried. Still she thought Flaxie ought to be punished.
“O mamma,” said Miss Frizzle next morning, very much surprised to find herself tied by the clothes-line to a knob in the bay-window. “The men laughed to me, they did! Mr. Lame Jones, he said I was very cunning!”
But for all that, her mamma did not untie her till afternoon; and then Flaxie promised “honestly,” not to run away again.
Would you trust her?
