“I was a naughty, heedless girl,” said Edith. “I ought to have told you mamma never trusts me with any kind of a light except a taper in a tumbler. But I thought I was going to be so careful this time.”
“’Twas all my fault, dearie. I knew you weren’t one of the stop-to-think kind. You’ll learn by and by,” replied Mrs. Chick soothingly, as she placed the trembling, exhausted child in bed between lavender-scented sheets, and turned to leave her.
“’Twas all my fault,” repeated the good woman to herself. “Thank Heaven no harm came of it! but I should think I was old enough to know better. I’m so weak-minded about children; can’t deny ’em anything they ask for!
“Now, there’s that cream. I’ve no business to let Jimmy churn it to-morrow morning. Something will happen to it, as sure as my name’s Biddy Chick; and I can’t afford to lose the cream. It needs a steady hand to bring butter, and I’ll do the churning myself before he wakes up.”
After this exciting adventure with the candle, it was some time before the children could compose themselves to go to sleep. Mrs. Chick had planned to do an unusual amount of work next day, and wanted an early breakfast; but she had not the heart to waken her young guests.
“Let ’em have a good rest, poor little things! I remember how I used to hate to be called up when I was a child; though, to be sure, I knew I’d got to work, and that makes a difference. Bless me! how I did have to work!”
It was eight o’clock, and the sun was quite high, when the children sat down to their breakfast of omelet and waffles. The maple-sirup had been forgotten after all, and Mrs. Chick had to go up-stairs for it.
“I’ve saved the cream for you to churn, Master Jimmy,” said she, watching his smiles as she spoke.
“I ought to have got it out of the way by half-past five, and all made into balls; but I don’t have a nice little boy like you come visiting me every day, and I can’t bear to disappoint you.”