A Sweet Little Maid by Amy Ella Blanchard (best novels to read for students txt) 📗

very miserable and woe-begone as she thought of all this.

"Well, girls, we'll have to be up and doing," said Callie. "We've a five mile walk before us, and it's a pretty hot day, so we'll have to take it slowly. You'll have plenty of time to get dried off, before we get there, Eleanor, so don't look so unhappy, you poor little midget. Think how dreadful it is for me who got you into this scrape. I can never forgive myself for it."

"I'll tell you what let's do," said Libbie. "Let Eleanor take off her frock, and we'll wash it out in the river, and dry it as we go along. We're not likely to meet any one, and it's so hot she'll not take cold going without it. We can hold it out between us as we walk along, so it will dry before we get home, and it will be clean at least."

Dimple was so grateful for this suggestion that she could have hugged Libbie; but she did not know her very well, and only expressed her thanks very fervently. At the first opportunity the frock was washed out, and really looked much better. "I wish I could do my stockings,151 too," said Dimple, "but I couldn't go barefoot. Mamma wouldn't like me to, although I'd like to." So this part of her dress had to remain as it was, and the girls took up their line of march again.

"I am so thirsty I don't know what to do," said Callie. "If I don't have a drink I'll drop by the way. I hate to think of drinking that warm river water; besides, it isn't so easy to get it."

"There's a spring somewhere further along," said Emma Bradford. "If we can manage to exist till we reach it, we can rest there. We shall be half starved, too, by the time we get home."

"If we only had something to eat we could sit down by the spring till it grew cooler, and we'd have a sort of a picnic. Oh, girls, we left all our fishing tackle in the boat! I never once thought of it."

"Nor I."

"Nor I."

"Perhaps Bill What's-his-name will bring it back when he comes with the boat. We've made a pretty expensive trip of it, as it is, without152 losing our fishing tackle. Think what that four dollars would buy: such a lot of ice cream and soda water," said Callie.

"Don't mention such things when we are consumed with thirst, and are so warm," said Emma.

"We may have to pay for the use of the boat, too," said Libbie. "I suppose we are out at least a dollar apiece, and maybe more. It will take all my pin money for a month. No more soda water for a while, unless some one treats me."

"I suppose we ought to be thankful to get home at all," Dimple spoke up.

"Yes, when you consider it in that light, we're let off cheaply enough," Callie replied. "Oh, dear, where is that spring?"

"Just beyond that turn," Emma told her. And they toiled on till they reached the spot where the cold water bubbled out from a pebbly hollow under an old tree.

"We must cool off before we drink," Libbie warned them. "We'll bathe our faces and hands, and sit here for a while. We are so overheated we ought not to drink right away."153

"It's very hard not to," said Callie, "but I suppose you are right."

"I am as hungry as I am thirsty," Libbie remarked. "If we only had one biscuit apiece, it would be something."

They had refreshed themselves with the cool spring water, and were idly sitting under a tree, when Dimple sprang up, crying, "I see something!" And she scrambled up the bank to a ledge beyond. "Girls! girls! here are lots of huckleberries," she called.

"Are you sure?"

"Certain sure. I wish you'd see. Come up." And they clambered up to the spot to find that she spoke truly: there was a patch of huckleberry bushes full of fruit. They set to work with a will and bore their feast down to the spring, near which they seated themselves on a fallen log.

"Did you ever taste anything so good?" said Emma. "I never care much for huckleberries at home, but I shall never despise them again."

Being refreshed they took up their journey again. Weary and warm they at length reached home, glad indeed to see the familiar streets, shady and quiet.154

"I am going to see you safely in your mother's hands," Callie assured Dimple; "for it was my fault that you got into trouble. I had no business to tempt you."

"But you only meant it out of kindness," replied Dimple, appreciatively. "I think you were very good to want us; and it would have been all right if the boat had not floated off that way."

"But we did float off, and I want to explain matters to your mother."

"I'll give you the dollar I have in my bank," said Dimple.

"No, wait till we find out about the other man; the one who owns the boat. When he understands that we didn't mean any harm, and that it was an accident, perhaps he won't charge for the boat, and then we'll only have to pay eighty cents apiece. I don't want to take any money of yours if I can help it."

"Oh, but you must. I'm sure mamma will say so."

"Well, we'll see. Just look how nicely your frock has dried. It doesn't look bad at all. A little limp maybe, but it's better that than155 muddy. I hope your mamma isn't very much worried. I don't believe it is so late after all." And although it seemed to Dimple that she had been days away from home, she was surprised to find that it was only about four o'clock, when hot and hungry they arrived at home.

Callie made her excuses and apologies as contritely as possible, and Mrs. Dallas was so relieved to find that nothing worse had happened, that she said very little in the way of reproof to the two runaways.

"You must never go down to the river again, my children," she said; "that is, unless papa or I, or some trustworthy person is with you. I should have forbidden you to go this time, but you have never ventured there before."

"I know, mamma," replied Dimple, "but it was so easy getting there from Mr. Atkinson's place, that we were there before we knew it. Was it 'Didn't think,' mamma?"

"Not exactly. I suppose you hardly realized that you were doing wrong since there were older girls with you, and it was more of an accident than actual wrongdoing. I think we shall have to keep you at home hereafter, for it seems156 very easy for little folks to get into trouble when they are away from their mothers. You have your own garden and your own little house to play in, so I think we must set the bounds there, and only allow you to go outside our premises by special invitation."

"Not even to Mr. Atkinson's?"

"No, I think not, dear. It is safer for you at home. Mamma has been greatly worried and distressed, and I am sure you do not want her to pass through such an anxious time again. It is for mamma's sake, dear, as well as your own, that she keeps you close to her. Suppose you had fallen overboard." She drew the child nearer to her, while her eyes grew moist at the thought.

"Dear, dear mamma, I'll never go away again without your leave. I don't want to make you unhappy, mamma. I do love you."

"I know you do, darling; but little girls sometimes forget that it is more by the doing than by the saying that their mothers are made aware of their love. You know papa always tells you that if you really love your parents, you will do the things that please them, otherwise, no matter157 how much you say 'I love you,' it doesn't mean anything."

Dimple looked very sober, and Florence, too, listened to all this with a very grave face. It had really been a very trying day for the two little cousins, and now that they were safe, they realized how uncomfortable it had been. Therefore, from that time there never was a question of their going outside the gate without permission, and Mr. Atkinson's place was no longer visited unless by his express invitation on Saturday afternoons.

"I feel as if I had been sort of ungrateful," said Dimple, the next day after their rescue. "I just love my home, Florence, and somehow I don't feel a bit bad about not going to Mr. Atkinson's. I believe I know exactly how the little birdies feel when they get back to the nest, after they have been trying to fly. I hope I shall never go so far away again, until I am much older." And the two returned contentedly to their old playground, only too glad to feel the security of familiar sights and sounds.