A Sweet Little Maid by Amy Ella Blanchard (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📕

Florence and Dimple with Rubina and Celestine were on the back porch, when they heard some one whistle, and looking up they saw Rock coming around the corner of the house.

"Good-morning," said he, "I am glad you have your dolls here; I want to measure them."

"Why, are you a tailor?" asked Florence.

"No," he said, laughing, "only a cabinetmaker. I came over with a message from my mother to Mrs. Dallas, and a message from myself to yourselves."

"Have you given mamma her message?" asked Dimple.

"Yes," said he, "and mine is that I want you to come to tea with me to-morrow evening, you and Florence and the dolls."

"Oh, the dolls?"

"Yes, the dolls. I will come for you, if you like, at half-past four."

"Did mamma say we might go?"82

"Yes, so it is all settled."

"Now," said Florence, "we must make the dolls new frocks. Do tell us, Rock, what they ought to wear."

Rock turned over the bits of stuff in Dimple's box. "White, I think," said he; "that dotted stuff is pretty."

"Oh, yes," said Dimple, "and I have plenty of that. We can trim them with this lace, Florence, and they will look so cool and nice. Now if mamma only had time to make hats for them!"

"I'll make them hats," said Rock.

"You! Whoever heard of boys making hats for dolls?"

"Did you never hear of a man-milliner?" asked Rock. "And men dressmakers? I have. You stay here. I am going to ask your mamma for something to make them of."

"Isn't he a funny boy, Florence?" said Dimple, as Rock disappeared; "but I think he is real nice. Just hand me the scissors, won't you? Which way does this go, so, or so?"

"So, like mine. Are you going to make a wide or a narrow hem?"83

"Wide, if the stuff is long enough; it isn't so easy, but it looks nicer. I wonder if mamma will give us fresh ribbons for sashes for the dolls; it will set them off so."

"Here comes Rock," exclaimed Florence, "and what has he in his hand? An old bonnet, I declare."

"Now," said Rock, "if you will tell me where I can get a basin of water, I will make the hats."

"With water?"

"I shall need water. Don't get up—Bubbles will get it for me," as Dimple was about to put down her work.

Bubbles brought the water, and Rock began to rip the straw bonnet to pieces; then he dampened it a little and sewed it into shape, once in a while dampening it more to give it the right turn. "Will you have a wide or a narrow brim?" he asked.

"Oh, just a between brim. Don't you say so, Florence? Isn't it going to be lovely? Did you ever?" as Rock handed her a cunning little straw hat.

"Now for the other one," said he, and he soon had that done too.84

A little narrow ribbon and one or two flowers made the hats perfect.

"Oh, Rock, I wish you were my brother," sighed Dimple, as she held her doll off at arm's length to admire her. "Rubina, you are a darling! blue is so becoming to her."

"I almost wish I had trimmed mine with blue," said Florence, regretfully.

"Oh, I think pink is just as pretty," exclaimed Rock, "and it is nicer not to have them both alike."

"Now what are you making?" asked Dimple, as Rock went on sewing straw.

"Baskets."

"Baskets, for the dolls?"

"Yes, for the dolls, or you either."

Dimple put her chin in her hands, and leaned on the arm of her chair to watch him.

"How clever you are," she said, "I wish you were my brother, really and truly, Rock."

"Well, we will pretend I am," said he. "What shall I put in your basket, sister?"

They all laughed.

"I don't think it will hold much, but Rubina can put her work in it. See, if I pin her arm up85 so, she can hold it nicely. There! I must go and show it to mamma. I'll tell her to adopt you," she called back, as she ran off.

"Now I must clear up my scraps," said Rock, as he put the finishing touches to the other basket.

"Mamma says I may gather you some flowers," said Dimple, coming out again with a pair of shears in her hand, "and she says you are a very nice boy, a very nice boy indeed."

Rock laughed. "She wouldn't think so sometimes," said he. "I don't believe she wants to change children with my mother."

"I hope she doesn't want to," said Dimple, then added quickly, "Not that I don't think your mother is real nice, Rock, but you know I am so used to mine, and she is so used to me."

"Of course," said Rock, laughing again. "I didn't mean they would change, or even think of it."

"Now let's get the flowers," said Dimple; "you are to choose just which you like best, Rock," she said, leading the way to the flower-beds. "The pansies are almost gone, but there are plenty of roses yet, and verbenas, and mignonette, and lots of things."86

"Now, Rock," she said, as they went along the paths, "you are not choosing the prettiest ones at all. I believe you are picking out the mean ones on purpose; I am going to choose myself. You tell me, Florence, whenever you see a real pretty one."

Florence promised, and Rock looked on, secretly pleased that they had taken the matter into their own hands.

"What lovely ones you have chosen," he said, as Dimple gave the bunch into his hands. "Thank you so much."

"And thank you, so much," said the girls, "for the hats, and the baskets, and the invitation."

"You will be sure to be ready," he said, at the gate.

"Yes," they cried.

"At half-past four?"

"Yes."

"Good-bye sister; good-bye Florence; go in out of the sun."

"Good-bye, brother, keep in the shade."

Then they laughed and ran in.

"Mamma," cried Dimple. "Auntie," cried Florence, "where are you?"87

"Upstairs," she answered.

Up they ran. "Aren't you glad Rock is such a nice boy? Did you know boys could be so nice?" asked Dimple.

"I knew they could be, if they would."

"What makes Rock so gentle and kind and good?"

"Well, you see he lost his father when he was a very little boy, and as he had no brothers or sisters, he has been almost constantly with his mother, who is a very gentle, sweet woman."

"He doesn't seem silly, like some boys, either," said Florence. "I know a boy, we call him 'sissy,' he is so like a girl, and he is always whining, and afraid of cold, and afraid of sun, and afraid of everything."

"I shouldn't like that kind of boy," Dimple said. "Mamma, I call Rock my brother, and he calls me sister."

"Do you?" said her mother, smiling. "Now it is nearly dinner time, and if I am not mistaken, two little girls have left their new dolls, and all their scraps and things out on the porch."

"So we have!" they exclaimed, and ran down to bring them in.88

The dolls were laid away in state for the next day, and at the sound of the dinner bell, the girls went into dinner.

Since the arrival of Florence, Dimple had not cared so much for Bubbles' society, and sometimes objected to her joining in their plays; but Bubbles, by the gift of Floridy Alabamy, did not lack amusement, and could be seen almost any afternoon happy with her doll.

She was singing, "Oh Beurah lan', sweet Beurah lan'," when Florence called her.

"What are you singing, Bubbles?"

"Beurah lan'," answered she.

"What does she mean, Dimple?"

"Beulah land. She does get things so twisted. We are going down to the woodshed to play till mamma calls us. Bubbles, do you want to go?"

Of course Bubbles did, and off they all went.

The woodshed was at some distance from the house, out in a shady place. Sometimes the children took to the roof, which could be reached by a ladder, and it was the scene of many a bold adventure.

"What shall we play?" said one to another.

"Injun," suggested Bubbles.89

"No Indian for me, since my foot was cut," said Dimple.

"Let's play house afire and climb from the roof by the ladder," said Florence.

"No. I tell you," said Dimple, "let's be cats and get on the roof and meow like they do at night."

They all laughed at this, but finally concluded to be birds, and build nests, but why they should take leaves in their mouths and climb up and down the ladder no mortal could tell, and indeed this proved too tedious a play, and they all sat on the roof to decide what should be done next.

Suddenly Dimple cried out, "What is that sticking out of your pocket, Bubbles?"

Bubbles quickly thrust whatever it was back into her pocket, and was about to get down from the roof, when Dimple held her.

"Pull it out, Florence," she cried. "I believe it is a piece of my dotted swiss."

And so it was. Bubbles had been consumed with envy ever since Rubina and Celestine had been dressed in white, and wanted her doll to look as well.90

"You wicked girl! where did you get it?" asked Dimple, fiercely.

"Found it."

"You didn't. You've been stealing. You stole it from my box that I left on the porch yesterday. What were you going to do with it?"

"Make a frock for Floridy Alabamy."

"Why didn't you ask for something, instead of taking what didn't belong to you?"

Bubbles was silent.

"You told a story too, when you said you found it; you knew it was mine. Now you shall be punished."

"Don't send me to the orphan asylum," said Bubbles, beginning to cry.

"No, I promised mamma I wouldn't say that any more, but I shall do something. The idea of your doing such a thing. I really used to think you were nearly as nice as a white girl, Bubbles, but I never shall any more."

Bubbles cried harder than