CHAPTER IX.
HESPER’S NEW FROCK.
“Hesper,” said Mose, one morning, just as he was going to his work—“how much does it take to make you a frock?”
“O, never mind,” she replied, “I don’t want a new one. But there is one thing I do want, Mose, and that is that you should get you a good warm coat for winter. You will feel the need of it bitterly, when you come out of the hot mill into the cold, north wind, or perhaps a driving snow-storm.”
“I can’t have a coat till you have a new frock,” said Mose decidedly.
“Well then,” said she, “I shall try to get one as soon as possible. Perhaps the fairies are weaving one now, and will bring it along the next time the moon fulls. We will wait and see.”
It happened very strangely, that not long after this conversation, aunt Betsey came in. She was very sorry that she had not been able to help Hesper by keeping the boys, and now she was determined to make amends in some other way.
“Hesper,” said she, “I have been thinking I would make you a new frock. I looked about the house and found an old black, bombazine dress, which will do very well to alter for you. I have come down now to take your measure, but I must be very quick, for I am still in a great hurry with my bed-quilt, and I wish to get the dress done to-night.”
Hesper thought she should not like a black bombazine dress, but she would not say so, lest she should wound aunt Betsey’s feelings. So she let her take the measure as she desired.
Before night aunt Betsey made her appearance again, with the dress all finished. She helped Hesper put it on, and then viewed it with great satisfaction.
“There,” said she, “it fits nicely. I’m glad I’ve done you some good at last, though I don’t want to boast of it. You needn’t try to be saving of it, but wear it just as much as you please,”—and then she went away, before Hesper had a chance to say how she liked it. The skirt of the dress was very scanty, and so long that it came almost to her feet. The waist was short, and the sleeves large, and it was made so high in the neck that she could scarce bend her head. It felt very uncomfortable, but Hesper tried not to think of it, though she found it very hard to do so, for when she sat down to her work, she had to turn her head this side and that, to keep it from choking her, and almost the first thing she did, was to step on the skirt and fall. It was a real vexation, but she thought that aunt Betsey had taken a great deal of pains, and therefore she ought to be very grateful.
“Bless me! Hesper,” said her father, as soon as he saw her—“is that you? Why you look like some of the strange, black shadows I see in my dreams.”
“O! dear child!” said her mother, when she awoke, “you are all dressed in mourning. It makes me feel gloomy.”
Mose expressed his disapprobation in very strong terms, and as for Fred and Charlie, they laughed with all their might at Hesper’s strange appearance. Even simple Johnny pushed away the dress when it touched him, with a look of great dislike. She felt awkward and uneasy, and longed to slip on her old frock again, but she thought of aunt Betsey’s kindness, and determined to persevere.
After Fred and Charlie had gone to bed that night, they began, in low whispers, to talk over matters and things. By making a few inquiries, they had found out the whole history of Hesper’s new frock, and now they were considering the possibility of getting her another.
“How much money do you suppose we could get for our rabbits?” asked Charlie.
“O, not much,” replied Fred. “They aren’t good for anything but to eat.”
“To eat!” exclaimed Charlie, “I would not sell Billy and Bunny for people to eat, not for all the money in the world.”
“And I don’t want to,” said Fred, “but that’s the only thing we can do.”
“Well,” replied Charlie, as he drew a long breath, “then we will, though I wish we could think of something else.”
The next morning they went out bright and early to get their rabbits, resolved to make the sacrifice, but one was missing. They searched all about the yard, and peeped into every crack and corner, but it was nowhere to be found. Charlie cried, and Fred scolded.
“There,” said he, “the Grimsby boys have stolen him, and I’ll call them thieves every time I see them. If it wasn’t for Hesper, I would tumble them both into the duck pond. I’ll call them thieves though, anyhow.”
“No, no,” said Hesper, who stood close behind them. She had heard the crying and came out to see what it meant. “If you begin with hard names, you will soon come to blows. Leave it to me, and see if I can’t get your rabbit again, without any trouble. Perhaps the Grimsby boys know nothing about it, and then you would have no reason whatever for calling them thieves.”
Fred was just beginning to argue the case, when Hesper said, “Now don’t,” in such a pleasant, persuasive way, that he gave it up and went off, but it was a great disappointment.