The pretty rose-buds and fern-leaves on the new carpet are completely drowned. Daisy’s neat boots are weighed down with their additional weight of water, and Daisy herself stands upon a chair, “sending coals to Newcastle,” as the torrent pours from her blue eyes. Just then the door bursts open, and Jacko, the little monkey, escaped from the family menagerie keeper, shouts out, “Oh, Daisy, ain’t you coming to the exprise?” then lowering his tones as he catches sight of the catastrophe and tearful Daisy on her high perch, cries—
“Was you shipwrecked, Daisy dear, and was you throwed on the rocks? Oh, isn’t it fun to paddle? I think water is the best fun of anything.”
“Dais-y! where is the child?” sounds out a loud, ringing voice, as Rosie, the companion monkey of the family collection, appears on the threshold. “Doesn’t she know what’s going on? Oh, dear, dear, what a awful splash! What ever’ll happen to you, Miss Daisy?”
With this crumb of doubtful comfort dropped, Rosie runs off panting to the nursery, to tell how “Miss Daisy, that’s always preaching to us children, is behaving a purpose.”
Now Daisy, be it known, is the family owl, and has the habit of looking very grave and wise, and using those aggravating words, “I told you so,” to the younger members of the family, so Daisy’s misfortune, this morning, is rather “nuts” for the companion monkeys to crack.
The news of the “shipwreck” reaches the nursery, and Charlotte, who has a very soft spot in her heart for little folks in distress, and whose office it is to mend the family jars and straighten out the family tangles, hastens to the floating island, rescues the family owl, dries the dripping feathers, and then marshals the chattering group to the dining-room for the rare pleasure of a “high breakfast” with Mamma and Aunt Lellie.
A smiling greeting there awaits them, and then Mamma bids Artie take Papa’s place at the head of the table, and after a simple grace, enters into the general fun.
“Mamma,” pleads one, “need nobody count our cakes this morning, and may we make our own spread of marmalade?”
“Mamma, dear, can’t we have two helps of strawberries. They are so very delicious, and Charlotte will give us peppermint and sugar if they hurt.”
Aunt Lellie’s suggestion that, by way of preventive, the strawberries should be seasoned with peppermint and sugar, was received with merry laughter, and then the clamor went on.