A Sweet Little Maid by Amy Ella Blanchard (free e reader TXT) 📕

hasn't another lot of kittens. Have them? To be sure you may, and welcome, when they are big enough to take from their mother."

The girls clapped their hands delightedly and went back to the little blind things, who, with their tight shut eyes, were mewing and nosing against each other.

"Now let's choose," said Rock, after they had taken them out on the grass where it was lighter. "Two black, and one black and white. If you girls like the black ones best I'll take the other, or if either of you like that best, I'll take one of the black ones."

So, after much talking, Dimple chose a black one, and Florence the black and white, while Rock expressed himself delighted with the other black one as really what he liked the best.

"I shall name mine Jet," said he.

"And mine I'll name Onyx, and call it Nyxy for short," said Dimple.

"And mine shall be Marble," said Florence.

So that question being decided they left them, "like birds in their nest," said Dimple, and started for home, for it was growing late.

"We couldn't carry the kittens home to-night, anyhow," said Florence; "but I do hope we can see them often, and that I can take mine home."

She did take it home, and it grew to be a big cat; though before she went, the children often laughed to see Rock coming in with the three little things in a basket, bringing them over for a visit. He did this several times, taking them back to their mother, until one day they came to stay.

Although time dragged, eight o'clock did come at last, and the hour brought Mrs. Dallas.

"And you are really glad to have me back again," she said, with an arm around each little girl, "though you were so glad to have me go. And how did the pie turn out?"

"It wasn't good," admitted Dimple, candidly; "so we gave it to an organ-grinder."

"What charitable, generous children, to be sure," laughed Mrs. Dallas. "By the way, Dimple, I forgot to tell you that possibly the paperhanger might be here; he was to come one day this week to paper the upper hall."

Dimple looked at Florence and Florence looked at Dimple. "We thought he was a crazy man," presently said the latter, in a shamefaced way.

"Crazy! Why, what do you mean?"

"He came to the side door," explained Dimple. "Those were rolls of paper on his back, Florence, and we got frightened and wouldn't let him in."

"You silly little geese! I see I must not leave you again."

"But everything else was all right," Florence informed her, "only I burned my hand a little. I had almost forgotten it, Dimple."

"Then you don't want me to go away, altogether," said Mrs. Dallas.

"No indeed," said they both, in the most emphatic manner.

"You dearest, loveliest," continued Dimple; "it is too delicious to see you again."

"And I didn't dream about the crazy man after all," said Florence, the next morning.


CHAPTER VIII


Adrift

During this time Mr. Atkinson was not forgotten, and the two little girls spent many a happy morning in his beautiful garden, for even the small house which Mr. Dallas had built for Dimple, was not proof against the attractions Mr. Atkinson's place had to offer. They were careful not to venture beyond bounds, and kept in the walks and on the porches, but one hot day they wandered down to where a fence marked the limits of the place in that direction. Then came a steep bank sloping down to Big Run which, a little further on, emptied into the river.

It was a wild, romantic spot and full of charm for the two little girls whose fancies pictured all sorts of possible things. The hollows, in the scraggy willows bending over the stream, might be the hiding-places of nymphs or fairies; yonder soft sward dotted with buttercups and daisies, might be the favorite spot for a midnight revel; among those rocks queer little gnomes might live. Florence was especially struck with it all. She had never been quite so near to such a picturesque spot, and now nothing would do but that they should climb the fence and explore further.

"There isn't a soul anywhere to be seen," said Florence, "and it will be perfectly safe."

"Suppose we should meet a fierce dog," Dimple, a little more cautious, suggested.

"Oh, no, we're not likely to at all. Dogs are not going to such a place as that, at least, I don't think so. It would be perfectly fine to go out on one of those willow trees, and hang our feet over the water."

"Suppose we should slip and fall in."

"Oh, we'll be careful; besides the branches of the trees hang so far over the stream that we couldn't fall very far, anyhow, and it is very shallow there. We'll only get a wetting and it's such a hot day I shouldn't mind if we did. If we should sit there very quietly we might see fairies."

"Do you believe there are fairies, really?"

"Why, yes,--I'm not sure. There may be, you know. Wouldn't it be funny to see a tiny little being, in a red cloak or a spun-silver robe, come out from the hollow of a tree and say, 'Maiden, your wish shall be granted'?"

"What wish?"

"Any wish we happen to be making at the time. Come on, Dimple, I am just crazy to go." And Florence put her foot on the fence and was soon over, Dimple following.

It was not so easy as it seemed, to get out on the trees, and they decided not to attempt it, but thought they would wander along the brink of the stream, and in doing this they discovered all sorts of wonderful things in what Florence called the Fairy Dell: moss-grown rocks from which sprung tiny bell-shaped flowers; a circle of wee pink toadstools, which indeed seemed fit for the elfin folk; a wild grapevine with a most delightfully arranged swing on which the two girls "teetered" away in great joy; shining pebbles, bits of rose-colored quartz, a forest of plumy ferns, and all such like things, over which the city child exclaimed and marveled.

At last they were obliged to cross a little bridge, for the bank became higher and higher on that side, and a little further walking showed them the river.

"Oh!" Florence exclaimed. "Isn't this fine? I wish we could go out rowing. See those girls over there by that funny flat sort of boat. They are going to get on it. Come, let us go down and watch them."

They clambered down and were soon on the brink of the river. Two or three girls, much older than Dimple and Florence, were pulling a small flat barge up on the sands. One of the girls recognized Dimple. "Hallo, Eleanor," she cried. "Where did you come from? Don't you want to get on with us?"

"Oh, do let us," whispered Florence.

"Are you going out on the river?" asked Dimple.

"No, we are only going to get on this flat boat, and sit here where we can get the breeze, and maybe we will fish. We brought some tackle along with us. Come, give me your hand. There, you are landed. Come, little girl, there is plenty of room." She held out her hand to Florence, who eagerly accepted the invitation, and was soon by her cousin's side.

"Isn't it nice?" said Dimple.

"Fine," Florence responded, heartily, as she sat down in the bottom of the boat.

"It's rather sunny, though," Dimple remarked.

"Oh, you mustn't mind that. We're going to fish. Don't you want to try your luck?"

Dimple looked rather disgustedly at the can of angle-worms and decided that she would look on.

"What are you going to do, Libbie?" Dimple's acquaintance inquired of one of the other girls.

"I'm going to try to get the boat out where it will float. It's such fun to have it bob up and down," replied the girl addressed. She had a long pole and was pushing the boat off from the shore. It was fastened to a stake, so it could only career around a little, and Dimple's friend Callie Spear assured the little girls that it was perfectly secure, and so they gave themselves up to their enjoyment.

Both Florence and Dimple felt very proud of being invited to join this company of older girls; and, while the latter amused themselves by fishing, the two little ones set afloat small chips, freighted with the daisies they had gathered, and wondered how far they could go before they should upset.

"Wouldn't it be funny if they sailed all the way to the ocean and were seen by the people on one of the big steamers. They would wonder how in the world the daisy people got out so far." Florence said this as she was watching a chip rapidly drifting down stream. Suddenly she became aware that the shore was further away than she supposed, and she cried, "Oh, how wide the water is! See how far it is to the shore."

The other girls looked up, startled, and to their dismay discovered that their boat had slipped its moorings and was fast drifting down the river, nearer and nearer to the current of midstream. They looked at each other with scared faces, but they did not want to alarm the little girls, and so Callie said, with a forced laugh: "Oh, that's all right. We'll get in easily enough. Some one will see us from the shore, or a boat will come along that can tow us in. It's rather fun to have a little adventure." However, she eagerly scanned the shore and the water; but no help seemed to be near, and the boat was drifting on and on.

Dimple realized that they were moving further and further away from home, as she saw the objects on the shore grow smaller and smaller. The big tears began to gather in her eyes.

"Don't cry, dear," said Callie, soothingly. "We'll get home all right."

"But suppose we shouldn't. Suppose we should drift on and on down to where the steamboats come up, and we should keep going till it got dark, and nobody should see us, and we should get run into and drowned. Oh dear! I want my mamma, and my papa."

Florence took alarm at this, and, putting her head in Dimple's lap, began to cry too.

The older girls were scarcely less frightened, for they knew there was a danger in their reaching the rapids, and in being whirled around between the rocks, when they would be very likely to upset, even in a boat like the one in which they were. They managed, however, to show less fear, in their endeavor to calm the younger children.

"Why, we'll get home long before we reach the steamboats," said Emma Bradford, cheerfully. "Haven't you seen the river in a freshet? and don't you know how it carries all sorts of things along? haystacks, and sheds, and even houses with people in them, I've seen, and they are always rescued."

Libbie Jackson was looking over the side of the boat. "It is very shallow here. We could almost walk ashore," she said.

"We are right over the old ford," said Callie. Suddenly she sprang to her feet and began to tear off the skirt of her frock. As soon as she