But it was told of Mabel Creamer that she stood on the porch and scowled when they brought Bubby back in the basket. She actually did say to Tess and Dot, over the side fence:
“An’ they blame me for it. Said I ought to have been there to watch what Billy Quirk was goin’ to do. If it had been a really, truly Gypsy that had kidnapped Bubby, I s’pose they’d shut me up in jail!”
In a few days the little girls were back in school again, and Mabel was not obliged to stay in to mind the baby—hated task!—for she was in Dot’s grade.
Tess’ class gathered, too, to welcome Miss Pepperill’s return to her wonted place—all but Sammy Pinkney. Sammy was a very sick boy and they brought straw and put it knee deep in Willow Street, in front of the Pinkney house, so as to deaden the sound of wagon wheels. Tess actually went on tiptoe when she passed the house where her schoolmate lay so ill.
Billy Bumps, the goat, that had once been Sammy’s, looked longingly through the Corner House fence at the straw thus laid down, as though it was more tempting fodder than that with which Uncle Rufus supplied him.
“I believe Billy Bumps must know Sammy is awful sick,” Tess said, in a hushed voice to Dot. “See how solemn he looks.”
“Seems to me, Tess,” Dot replied, “I never saw Billy Bumps look any other way. Why, he looked solemn when he eat-ed up Mrs. MacCall’s stocking. I believe he must have a melancholic disposition.”
“‘Melancholic’! Goodness me, Dot!” snapped Tess, “I wish you wouldn’t try to use words that you can’t use.”
“Why can’t I use ’em, if I want to!” demanded Dot, stubbornly.
“But you get them all wrong.”