THE WATER-KELPIE.
It was nearly time for vacation. As the children were to start on the next Monday for Willow-brook, their mother allowed them to spend their last Wednesday afternoon with their cousin Florence. It fell to Prudy's lot to dress her little sister.
"I'm ever so glad," said Dotty, "that the barber snipped off my kyurls. Don't you think I do look like a boy, now, Prudy? You may call me Tommy, if you want to; I'm willin'."
"There, now," she exclaimed, when her toilet was made, "say me my lesson; please to, Prudy."
"O, I forgot all about that" replied the little teacher, uneasily. "Susy 'll be done practising in half an hour, and I thought I'd just have time to make my doll's boots,—finish them, I mean. Can't you wait till Saturday, Dotty?"
"O, my suz, Prudy Parlin! When I get to be a great sister to you, I won't treat you so. I want to get my letters all smooth done to-day,—don't want to wait till Sat'day."
At any other time Prudy would have been gratified to see Dotty show so much eagerness.
"Be kind to thy sister," hummed the gentle little teacher. "Yes, I will. I'm always glad after I've been kind. Nothing makes me love Dotty so well as to try to please her!"
"Now," said she, calling her school to order, "you've learned as far as S, which I think is doing finely, all alone, with nobody to help us. This next letter stands, you see, for a top. What is it we drink out of cups?"
"I don't get anything but milk, and that's in a mug," replied Dotty in an injured tone.
"But what does mother drink? Now think."
Dotty eyed the letter sharply. "Why, mamma drinks coffee sometimes, and it has grounds; but they don't look like that thing, the grounds don't! Why, that thing looks like a spade, with the teeth out, wrong side up."
"You mean a rake" laughed Prudy. "Well, dear, this is T."
When Dotty came to X, she declared it stood "for your thumb. Susy said so, and it was in the music-book."
Now came an hour of triumph for the little pupil. Her mother was both surprised and delighted to hear that her youngest daughter knew all her letters.
"She can say them skipping about," said Prudy, "and can spell a few little words, too."
"C, a, t, cat, d, o, g, Zip," laughed Dotty, showing her deepest dimples, and frisking about the room.
"My dear little ones," said Mrs. Parlin, kissing both the children, "I am really very much gratified. Both teacher and pupil have shown a great deal of patience and perseverance."
These words from her beloved mother were most precious to Prudy. Dotty, though she did not know what was meant by patience and perseverance, presumed it was something fine, and laughed and danced in great glee.
Nothing remarkable happened during the visit to Florence Eastman, except that Miss Dimple and Johnny were found running off the track of the upper railroad just one second after the engine started. Everybody was very much frightened when it was all safely over. But Dotty said,—
"O, my suz! Me an' Johnny has done that a hundred and a million times—hasn't we, Johnny? We wait till the injin w'istles, then we run on to the platform—don't we, Johnny?"
It came out after a while, that these reckless children had also been in the habit of crossing pins on the track, to make "scissors," the weight of the cars pressing the two pins into a solid x.
"I still tremble," said Mrs. Eastman, with white lips. "This Alice Parlin is the most daring little creature I ever saw, more harum-scarum than ever Susy was."
Prudy was Mrs. Eastman's pet. "Prudy," she said, "was a natural lady: the other two were romps."
The next Monday Mrs. Parlin and the three children started for Willow-brook. Dotty wished to take her sweet Pusheen and her darling Zip; but it was decided that Pusheen must stay at home, and help keep house.
"Be a good kitty," said her little mistress, embracing her, "and eat all the mice in the mouse-chamber, 'fore they grow up rats!"
But Zip was allowed to go to Willow-brook; and Dotty watched him all the way, scarcely allowing him to stir from the seat beside her.
"No," said she, holding him firmly by both ears; "Dotty'd be glad to let you get down, but she doesn't think it's best. You is only a doggie, and you'd get runned over and die. So now, Zippy, you'll have to give up, and it's no use to bark."
But Zip, having the spirit of a dog, would bark.
The whole party reached Willow-brook in safety, and had a joyful welcome.
"Prudy, my aunt Louise is the handsomest lady there is in this world," said Dotty, privately.
"O, Dotty, how can you think so," exclaimed Prudy, "when there's only one woman can be that!"
"Who's she?"
"Mother, of course!"
When Dotty was called to supper, she was found beside Pincher's green grave, telling her "brother Zip" the story of that dog's death, and trying to impress upon his mind the importance of keeping his paws out of fox-traps.
It was delightful to be at grandma Parlin's once more. The summer-house, the seat in the tree, and the swing, were all in their old places, and had been waiting a whole year for the children. A few things had been added: a hennery,—called by Dotty "a henpeckery"—and a graceful white boat, named the Water-Kelpie. This boat was kept chained to a stake on the bank, and no one could have a sail in it without first obtaining the key, which hung over the bird-cage, in the back parlor.
Susy was charmed with the boat. It was lighter and nicer than the old canoe, which had so long been used by the family. She and Lonnie Adams, her aunt Martha's nephew, took daily lessons in rowing; but Susy, who had for years been accustomed to the water, knew how to manage a boat far better than did Master Lonnie. The boy strained every nerve, to very little purpose, while Susy would lightly dip in the paddle, and turn it with perfect ease.
"I don't care," said Lonnie; "guess you can't drive a nail any better than I can, Susy Parlin, and I can row her some, anyhow. Now, Abner, can't I row her?"
"Yes, my boy, I think I've heard you roar," replied Abner, with a provoking smile.
"Well, can't I row her this way?"
"Middlin' well," returned Abner, cautiously; "but little Sue, here, is the water-man for me."
Susy's cheeks glowed, and there was a proud flash in her eyes as they met Lonnie's. At that moment she felt equal to the task of steering a ship across the Atlantic Ocean.
Not long after this praise from Abner, aunt Martha said that she and Master Lonnie were going over the river, after some wild-flower roots, and would be glad to have the boat sent for them at five o'clock.
"Mayn't I be the one to go?" asked Susy.
"If you like," replied the grandmother; "that is, if Abner is willing."
Susy knew perfectly well that her grandmother had no idea of allowing her to go alone; but it so happened, when she reached the river-bank with the boat-key, that Abner was nowhere to be seen.
"Seems to me," thought Susy, "Abner is generally somewhere else."
"Where you goin', all alone, 'thout me?" cried Dotty Dimple, from the top of the bank.
"You here? What did you come for?" said Susy.
For answer, Dotty took a pair of rubber overshoes out of Zip's mouth.
"Grandma says to put 'em right on, or you'll catch the hookin' cough; the boat's wet."
"There, now," said Susy, putting on the rubbers, "I've forgot the basket for those Jack-in-the-pulpit roots. Didn't grandma send it up?"
"No, she sended up me," replied Dotty; adding, quickly, "and I'm goin' where you go, you know; and if you don't go anywhere, I'm goin' there, too."
"That's just the way it is with you, Dotty Dimple; always coming when I don't expect you."
"Prudy coaxed me to," said Dotty, with one of her sweetest smiles and deepest dimples.
"Coaxed you?"
"Well," faltered Dotty, "she wanted to come her own self. She said she wished I'd stay to home,—so, of course I camed!"
"I'll tell you how it is," said Susy, thoughtfully. "That queer old Abner's nowhere to be seen. I suppose he's in the cornfield, or the meadow, or the barn. It's after five; and what will aunt Martha think? I could row across the river well enough by myself, if you'd only run home; you're such a bother!"
"O, my darlin' sister Susy! I won't do nothin' but just sit still. Who's your precious comfort?"
"Well, I don't know but I'll take you, then. Come, little Miss Trouble, jump into the boat."
So Dotty Dimple, being what Mr. Allen had called a "child-queen," had her own way, as usual.
"Why, where's the paddles?" said Susy. "The men must have hid them. Dear me, I can't stop to hunt; and here it is five o'clock long ago! O, I'll take this good smooth shingle, I declare! I guess it washed ashore on purpose; it's almost equal to a paddle.—Now we'll go, all so nice," continued Susy, fearlessly dipping the chance-found shingle into the water.
"O, my suz," said Dotty, clapping her hands, which had any amount of dimples on the backs; "we're goin'!"
"Of course we're going!" said Susy, proudly. "What did you expect? I can do five times as well with a shingle as Lonnie can with a paddle. What do you suppose aunt Martha'll say? 'Bravo! those are smart children, to be rowing all alone, by themselves'!"
"O, Susy, what a hubble-bubble we make in the water! Look at the bubbles winkin' their eyes! See those pretty wrinkles, all puckered up in the water!"
"I see them," said Susy, steadily plying her shingle; "but why don't you sit still? You'll tip us both over, as sure as this world; and if we get drowned I guess grandma'll scold! I shall be the one to have all the blame."
"O, dear," said Dotty, reeling about from side to side, "the boat's dizzy! My head's goin' to tip into the water. But don't you cry, Susy; you catch hold of me, and I shan't go!"
Susy was suddenly seized with mortal terror.
"Dotty Parlin, I'll never take you anywhere again, as long as I live! You sit as still as ever you can, and fold your hands; fold them both!"
Dotty obeyed at once, and sat up quite straight, looking very sweet, and at the same time slightly acid, like a stick of lemon-candy. The Water Kelpie, now that Dotty was quiet, floated on, safely and surely, towards the opposite shore.
It was a pretty picture—the white boat, the graceful children, and the still, blue water. Susy's fair arms were bared to the elbows, and her face was deeply flushed. Dotty's beautiful eyes danced, but she herself was motionless and demure.
When they landed, Susy called aloud for her aunt Martha to come and secure the boat. Her voice echoed from afar, waking "the sleep of the hills," but no aunt Martha appeared. The children clambered out at last, and Susy chained the boat to a stick, which she drove into the sand. But the sand was light, and the boat was heavy, and the current strong; so before the children had walked a dozen rods, the Water-Kelpie was floating down stream of its own free will.
Thus it happened that although aunt Martha was certainly surprised, she did not seem very much pleased. She did not say, "Bravo! my two nieces are smart children, to be rowing all alone by themselves." Nothing of the sort. She reproved Susy for her rash conduct, and sent her and Lonnie around two miles, by the bridge, to ask Abner to come for them with the canoe.
Lonnie was very much comforted when he saw that Susy received no praise.
"I can row her myself," said he; "but I wouldn't put Dotty in, and most drown her, and dab along with that shingle."
The runaway Water-Kelpie was caught a little way below the bridge, and Abner slyly laid by the dripping shingle, and afterwards showed it to everybody, as a proof that "our Sue was an amazin' smart little water man."
This famous boat-ride only had the effect to make Dotty Dimple more fearless than ever; but her next adventure on the water proved somewhat serious.