“It’s only me, papa,” Cricket said, dejectedly; “we have been dressing-up.”
By this time they were veritable scare-crows. Cricket’s hump was well wedged up under one shoulder, and soot, dirt and court-plaster, combined with the effects of the heat, made a little black-a-moor of her. Her hat hung over one ear, and her curly crop was all on end. Eunice’s long hair was loosened from its braid, and hung over her back in a rough, black mass.
Cutting off the trousers to make them short enough had left the upper part of them so very long that walking was difficult, except by a constant hitching up of the band, and their slender little legs looked like very small clappers in very big bells.
The doctor kept his gravity with difficulty, and the guests looked on in polite astonishment at the remarkable apparitions, for a moment, and then everybody laughed.
Mrs. Ward recovered herself immediately.
“Mrs. Saunders,” she said, resignedly, “this is Cricket, my charming and original child, if you will pardon my repeating your words. But I am sure this is a case when distance will lend enchantment to your opinion of her. You may go, Cricket.”
And the shamefaced children gladly fled.
CHAPTER XIII.
MAMIE HECKER.
According to the children’s ideas, one of the funniest things about living in the country was that eggs could be used as money.
It was such a delightfully simple way of getting candy. One could go to the barns, find two eggs, and, with one in each hand, march off to the corner grocery-store and get their value in chocolate-sticks, if you liked chocolate. If not, why, four marsh-mallows, rather stale and floury, to be sure, but just as nice for toasting, could be had for one egg.