"Poor papa couldn't come, 'cause he has to give folks their mederson," explained Miss Frizzle, before she had taken off her bonnet in grandma's parlor.
"Too bad," laughed pretty Grandma Curtis, who was ever and ever so much younger than Grandma Pressy, and didn't even wear a cap. "But we are glad he could send his little daughter."
No wonder she was glad! Flaxie was all pink and white, with a mouth made up for kisses, and eyes laughing like the sky after a shower. The colored girl, Venus, had never seen her before; but she loved her in a moment, for Flaxie threw both arms around her neck and kissed her, like a butterfly alighting on a black velvet rose.
But that night Flaxie did not seem quite well, and the next morning she was worse; she could not even hold the baby.
"They're so glad I've got the mumps," said she, two or three days afterward, as she lay on the sofa, with hot, swelled cheeks and parched lips that tried to smile.
The remark was made to Peppermint Drop, the doll of her bosom; but black Venus took it to herself.
"And what makes 'em glad you're sick?" said she.
"'Cause my mamma wants me to have the mumps all done, Venus, and then she can go to my 'nother grandma's next week. I've got lots of grandmas. She's going to see this one next week, and take the baby."
"Yes," said Venus, dusting the chairs; "and prob'ly if you get well she'll take you too."