“Just hand down that candle from the mantel-piece, Edy. There,” said she, after lighting it, “that’s safe enough! The pitcher is right on the closet floor, under the lowest shelf, behind a box. Will you be very sure not to carry the candle into the closet?”
“Oh, no, indeed! Oh, yes, indeed, I mean! And I’ll be, oh, so careful!”
“Well, if you’ll remember to set the candle down by the chamber door, I think there’ll be no danger.”
“Yes, Mrs. Chick, I will,” said Edith, and danced away joyfully. It was almost an unheard-of thing for her to be trusted with a light, and she enjoyed it. She held the candle aloft, and peered rather cautiously about the unfinished room next door to Jimmy’s. The whole house was so queer, she thought, and Mrs. Chick put things in such droll places.
“If mamma knew I had this candle she’d be nervous. She talks to me about lamps and things as if I was a baby; but I guess she’ll find out I know as much as Kyzie. Kyzie singed her hair once. Father thinks I can’t take care. I mind all that’s said to me; I mind beautifully.
“Now, I wouldn’t forget what Mrs. Chick told me about this candle, not for anything! She told me to set it down by the closet door!”
Ah, Edith, a mistake already! She told you the chamber door!
“I remember a great deal better than Gertie Mercer. She can’t remember eight times nine to save her life. Let’s see, the pitcher’s on the closet floor behind a box.”
She opened the closet door, the candle still in her hand. What a delicious odor of apricots and peaches! Did Mrs. Chick keep her fruit here too? Such a funny woman!
Edith set her candle down by the closet door, and knelt just in front of it, the bottom of the candlestick almost touching the skirt of her frock! But as she peered into the closet she forgot there was anything in the world but a sirup pitcher and some apricots and peaches. That candlestick with the candle in it was as far away from her thoughts, to say the least, as the moon in the sky.