Little Sunshine's holiday

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

There was also a salt-water loch, with fishing-boats drawn up on the beach, and long fishing-nets hanging on poles; but not a living creature in sight, except a heron or two. These stood on one leg, solemnly, as herons do, and then flew off, flapping their large wings with a noise that made Little Sunshine, as she expressed it, “nearly jump.” Several times, indeed, she “nearly jumped” out of the carriage at the curious things she saw: such funny houses, such little windows,—“only one pane, mamma,”—and, above all, the girls and boys barefooted, shock-headed, that hung about staring at the carriage as it passed.

“Have those little children got no Lizzie to comb their hair?” she anxiously inquired; and mamma was obliged to confess that probably they had not, at which Sunny looked much surprised.

It was a long, long drive, even with all these entertainments; and before it ended, the twilight had faded, the moon crept higher over the hill, and Sunshine asked in a whisper for “Maymie’s apron.” The little “Maymie’s apron,” which had long lain in abeyance, was produced, and she soon snuggled down in her mamma’s arms and fell fast asleep.

When she woke up the “hotel” was reached. Such a queer hotel! You entered by a low doorway, which opened into the kitchen below, and a narrow staircase leading to the guest-rooms above. From the kitchen Sunny heard a baby cry. She suddenly stopped, and would not go a step till mamma had promised she should see the baby,—a very little baby, only a week old. Then she mounted with dignity up the rickety stairs, and began to examine her new apartments.

They were only two, and as homely as they well could be. Beside the sitting-room was a tiny bedroom, with a “hole in the wall,” where Lizzie was to sleep. This “hole in the wall” immediately attracted Sunny; she jumped in it, and began crawling about it, and tried to stand upright under it, which, being such a very little person, she was just able to do. Finally, she wanted to go to sleep in it, till, hearing she was to sleep with mamma, a much grander thing, she went up to the bed, and investigated it with great interest likewise. Also the preparations for her bath, which was to be in a washing-tub in front of the parlour fire,—a peat fire. It had a delicious, aromatic smell, and it brightened up the whole room, which was very clean and tidy, after all.

So was the baby, which shortly appeared in its mother’s arms. She was a pale, delicate woman, speaking English with the slow precision of a Highlander, and having the self-composed, courteous manner that all Highlanders have. She looked much pleased when her baby was admired,—though not by Sunny, who, never having seen so young a baby before, did not much approve of it, and especially disapproved of seeing it taken into her own mamma’s arms. So presently it and its mother disappeared, and Sunny and her mamma were left to eat their supper of milk, bread and butter, and eggs; which they did with great content. Sunny was not quite so content to go to bed, but cried a little, till her mamma set the parlour door half open, that the firelight might shine in. Very soon she also crept in beside her little girl; who was then not afraid of anything.

But when they woke, in the dim dawn, it was under rather “frightening” circumstances. There was a noise below, of a most extraordinary kind, shouting, singing, dancing,—yes, evidently dancing, though at that early hour of the morning. It could not have been continued from overnight, mamma having distinctly heard all the family go to bed, the children tramping loudly up the stairs at nine o’clock, after which the inn was quite quiet. No, these must be new guests, and very noisy guests, too. They stamped, they beat with their feet, they cried “whoop!” or “hech!” or some other perfectly unspellable word, at regular intervals. Going to sleep again was impossible; especially as Sunny, unaccustomed to such a racket, began to cry, and would have fallen into a downright sobbing fit, but for the amusement of going to the “hole in the wall,” to wake her Lizzie. Upon which everybody rose, the peat fire was rekindled, and the new day began.

The good folk below stairs must have begun it rather early. They were a marriage party, who had walked over the hills several miles, to see the bride and bridegroom off by the boat.

“Sunny wants to look at them,” said the child, who listens to everything, and wants to have a finger in every pie.

So, as soon as dressed, she was taken down, and stood at the door in her mamma’s arms to see the fun.