Dinah was pa.s.sed around the room to be pitied. There was a mustard plaster on her chest, applied that day by Dotty, in order to break up a lung fever. Dinah's ankle, which was really broken, had been "set" and mended with a splinter, and was waiting for a new bone to grow. Percy Eastman, the oldest boy present, said,--

"Well, cousin Dimple, you and Flyaway do take extra care of Miss Dinah!

If you should lose her, you can't have anything to reflect upon."

Susy did not so much mind the laughter at Dinah's expense; for, although such a hideous black baby was not suitable for genteel society, still it was Katie who was exhibiting it, and Katie was pardonable for the weakness. The trying question was, What would the child do next? There was nothing certain about Flyaway except her uncertainty. Susy was about to appeal to her mother to take the little one away, when she heard the hall door open and shut; her father and mother had gone out for their walk.

It did occur to Susy that this was a great pity; and, indeed, it is quite probable, Mrs. Parlin would not have left the house if she could have foreseen how much her presence would be needed.

And after all it was Dotty Dimple, and not Flyaway, who made the whole trouble. Flyaway was under every one's feet, it is true, and sat down in the middle of the floor to comb and brush the kitty's head; but then she never for a moment lost her temper: it was Dotty, the girl old enough to know better, who was cross and disagreeable.

I am sorry to record this of Dotty, and so I will try to make a little excuse for her. She was not well. She had hardly felt like herself since that unfortunate boat-ride. She was sleepy and tired, and ought to have gone to bed at eight o'clock--the usual hour. Then, again, the guests were nearly all older than herself, and paid very little attention to her. She thought she might as well have worn her calico wrapper as this beautiful white delaine, for all the notice they took of her dress.

There was only one child present of Dotty's own age,--Johnny Eastman,--and if he would only have played cat's cradle with her, all might have gone well. But Johnny had not forgotten the severe correction his father had given him in the stable with a horsewhip. Every time he looked at his little cousin, the thought arose,--

"She was real mean to run and tell! I'll pay her for that--won't I, though?"

Percy had promised to aid him in his revenge; and you will presently learn what this was to be. Percy liked "cousin Dimple" very well; he was only putting a wicked scheme into his little brother's head "just for the fun of the thing."

The guests were talking of having a few tableaux and charades, like some they had seen arranged by their older sisters.

"I don't care anything about their old tolly-blows--do you, Johnny?"

said Dotty. "Let's play 'I spy'--you and I."

"No, you don't catch me playing high spy with such a cross party as you are, Dot Dimple."

"I wish you'd stop calling me a 'cross party' the whole time, Johnny Eastman," replied Dotty, shaking her elbows.

Just then Susy came, and whispered a few words in her ear.

"No, I won't be hung! I'm sure I won't be hung!" cried Dotty, who was by this time very much out of sorts.

"O, Dotty! what makes you act so? We've got a charade, 'Crisis.' Half of us are going to play it for the other half to guess. We only want to weigh you, with a yardstick through an old shawl; that's all. Come, let us pin you up; there's a goody girl."

"I don't want to be a goody girl. I'm too big to be goody. If you want a baby to make believe with, why don't you take Flyaway? She's littler than me."

"There, there!" said Prudy, coming to the rescue, "you needn't do a single thing, Dotty, if you don't want to. We didn't know but you'd like to play be weighed, you can squeal so be-_you_-tifully!"

"I know I can squeal just like a rubber doll; but s'posin' they should let me fall off the yardstick--where'd I go to then?"

"O, but they wouldn't!"

"Of course they would, Prudy Parlin. And I should fall right into the tolly-blow--that's where I should fall to."

"O, pshaw!" exclaimed Percy, coming into the corner where his cousins stood; "if cousin Dimple has got into one of her contrary fits, it's of no use teasing. You might as well try to move the side of the house."

This cutting speech was all that was needed to complete Dotty's ill humor. Did she remember any longer her promise not to get angry, but to swallow her temper right down? No, indeed; she forgot everything but her own self-will.

"Don't you speak again, Percy, or I'll scream my throat right in two!"

"Girls, I advise you to let that child alone," said her cousin, with a look of supreme contempt. "Let's try Flyaway; she's a little darling.

Here, Flyaway, are'n't you willing to be pinned up in a shawl if we'll give you a whole cent?"

"Course, indeed, so!" replied the little one, tossing her kitten across a chair, and into the fireplace. "But you mus' gi' me mucher'n that! Gi'

me hunnerd cents!"

No answer was made to this, except to dress the child in a ruffled cap and long clothes, and pin her into a plaid shawl.

"Now cry," said Percy; "cry just as if you had soap in your eyes."

"Ee! Ee!" wailed Katie, loudly.

"No, cry _weak_; cry just as you did when you were a baby."

"I don't 'member when I was a baby, 'twas so _many_ years ago," sighed Flyaway.

But she practised crying again, and succeeded very well, Dotty all the while looking on in grim displeasure.

Susy was the mamma; and when the folding-doors opened upon the scene "Cry," she was sitting in a rocking-chair, admiring her child, a remarkably well-grown baby, two months old.

"Just the image of his papa, Mrs. Pettibone!" cried Florence Eastman, rushing in, in the character of an old lady, her head adorned with a scoop bonnet. "Let me look at the precious little creature! Yes, just the image of his papa! I said so before I ever set eyes on him. He's two months of age, you say, and how many teeth?"

"She is a girl," replied Mrs. Susy, kissing the big bundle, "and weighs twenty-nine pounds, three inches."

Susy meant "ounces."

Then followed a chat between herself and a few little old ladies concerning catnip and "pep'mint" tea; after which the wonderful baby was held up by the yardstick to be weighed.

Flyaway had not expected to be suspended so high in the air. She forgot the baby-like cry she had been practising, and screamed out in terror,--

"I wish I didn't be to Portland! O, I wish I didn't be to Portland!"

As this was a very long speech for a baby two months old, the audience were taken by surprise, and laughed heartily. Poor little Flyaway was lifted out of the shawl, and kissed over and over again. She had not played properly, it is true, but she had intended to do right, and was applauded for her good intentions.

Dotty saw and heard the whole. She was sorry she had refused the part, and she put her fingers in her mouth, and sulked, because little Flyaway had been stealing the praise she might have received herself.

After both syllables of the charade had been acted and guessed, then the other half of the company took their turn, and attempted to arrange a tableau. There was a deal of confusion. No one knew exactly what ought to be done. They were to have a G.o.ddess of Liberty, and finally decided to dress her in an embroidered window curtain, with a shield on her breast made of a blue box cover, striped with yellow silk. Dotty was selected as G.o.ddess, on account of her superior beauty.

"But my mamma never 'lows me to wear window curtains, and I sha'n't be a tolly-blow 'thout I can wear my white dress with red spots, and a big bosom-pin in!"

"And a shaker," suggested one of the girls. "I didn't know before that Susy Parlin had such a bad sister."

This was too much. Dotty's head was on fire. She caught the girl by the shoulder, and shook her as if she had been a breadth of dusty carpeting; then ran away.

Which way she went she did not heed, and never stopped till she came to a dark pantry, which had been made without any windows, on purpose to keep out flies. The unhappy child threw herself, out of breath, upon the floor of this closet, her heart beating high with rage and shame.