But Tim soon put an end to this fun. Unexpectedly, his foot caught somewhere and he sprawled headlong in the tide. "Oh, Tim!" Molly said. But she said it without surprise or anger. And Tim lay flat on his stomach without moving, as if it were a common occurrence with him. Molly waded out to him, picked him up and marched him into the house.

The other little girl had disappeared. Suddenly she came out of one of the yards, clasping a Teddy-bear and a whole family of dolls in her fat arms. She sat down at the puddle's edge and began to undress them. Maida idly watched the busy little fingers-one, two, three, four, five-now there were six shivering babies. What was she going to do with them? Maida wondered.

"Granny," Maida called, "do come and see this little girl! She's-"

But Maida did not finish that sentence in words. It ended in a scream. For suddenly the little girl threw the Teddy-bear and all the six dolls into the puddle. Maida ran out the door. Half-way across the court she met d.i.c.ky Dore swinging through the water.

Between them they fished all the dolls out. One was of celluloid and another of rubber-they had floated into the middle of the pond. Two china babies had sunk to the very bottom-their white faces smiled placidly up through the water at their rescuers. A little rag-doll lay close to the sh.o.r.e, water-logged. A pretty paper-doll had melted to a pulp. And the biggest and prettiest of them, a lovely blonde creature with a shapely-jointed body and a bisque head, covered with golden curls, looked hopelessly bedraggled.

"Oh, Betsy Hale!" d.i.c.ky said. "You naughty, naughty girl! How could you drown your own children like that?"

"I were divin' them a baff," Betsy explained.

Betsy was a little, round b.u.t.terball of a girl with great brown eyes all tangled up in eyelashes and a little pink rosebud of a mouth, folded over two rows of mice-teeth. She smiled deliciously up into Maida's face:

"I aren't naughty, is I?" she asked.

"Naughty? You bunny-duck! Of course you are," Maida said, giving her a bear-hug. "I don't see how anybody can scold her," she whispered to d.i.c.ky.

"Scold her! You can't," d.i.c.ky said disgustedly. "She's too cute. And then if you did scold her it wouldn't do any good. She's the naughtiest baby in the neighborhood-although," he added with pride, "I think Delia's going to be pretty nearly as naughty when she gets big enough. But Betsy Hale-why, the whole street has to keep an eye on her. Come, pick up your dollies, Betsy," he wheedled, "they'll get cold if you leave them out here."

The thought of danger to her darlings produced immediate activity on Betsy's part. She gathered the dolls under her cape, hugging them close. "Her must put her dollies to bed," she said wisely.

"Calls herself _her_ half the time," d.i.c.ky explained. He gathered up the dresses and shooing Betsy ahead of him, followed her into the yard.

"She's the greatest child I ever saw," he said, rejoining Maida a little later. "The things she thinks of to do! Why, the other day, Miss Allison-the sister of the blind lady what sits in the window and knits-the one what owns the parrot-well, Miss Allison painted one of her old chairs red and put it out in the yard to dry. Then she washed a whole lot of lace and put that out to dry. Next thing she knew she looked out and there was Betsy washing all the red paint off the chair with the lace. You'd have thought that would have been enough for one day, wouldn't you? Well, that afternoon she turned the hose on Mr. Flanagan-that's the policeman on the beat."

"What did he say?" Maida asked in alarm. She had a vague imaginary picture of Betsy being dragged to the station-house.

"Roared! But then Mr. Flanagan thinks Betsy's all right. Always calls her 'sophy Sparkles.' Betsy runs away about twice a week. Mr.

Flanagan's always finding her and lugging her home. I guess every policeman in Charlestown knows her by this time. There, look at her now! Did you ever see such a kid?"

Betsy had come out of the yard again. She was carrying a huge feather duster over her head as if it were a parasol.

"The darling!" Maida said joyously. "I hope she'll do something naughty every day."

"Queer how you love a naughty child," d.i.c.k said musingly. "They're an awful lot of trouble but you can't help liking them. Has Tim Doyle fallen into the puddle yet?"

"Yes, just a little while ago."

"He's always falling in mud puddles. I guess if Molly fishes him out once after a rain, she does a half a dozen times."

"Do come and see me, d.i.c.ky, won't you?" Maida asked when they got to the shop door. "You know I shall be lonely when all the children are in school and-then besides-you're the first friend I've made."

At the word _friend_, d.i.c.ky's beautiful smile shone bright. "Sure, I'll come," he said heartily. "I'll come often."

"Granny," Maida exclaimed, bursting into the kitchen, "wait until you hear about Betsy Hale." She told the whole story. "Was I ever a naughty little girl?" she concluded.

"Naughty? Glory be, and what's ailing you? 'Twas the best choild this side of Heaven that you was. Always so sick and yet niver a cross wurrud out of you."

A shadow fell over Maida's face. "Oh, dear, dear," she grieved. "I wish I had been a naughty child-people love naughty children so. Are you quite sure I was always good, Granny?"

"Why, me blessid lamb, 'twas too sick that you was to be naughty.

You cud hardly lift one little hand from the bed."

"But, Granny, dear," Maida persisted, "can't you think of one single, naughty thing I did? I'm sure you can if you try hard."

Maida's face was touched with a kind of sad wistfulness. Granny looked down at her, considerably puzzled. Then a light seemed to break in her mind. It shone through her blue eyes and twinkled in her smile.

"Sure and Oi moind wance when Oi was joost afther giving you some medicine and you was that mad for having to take the stuff that you sat oop in bed and knocked iv'ry bottle off the table. Iv'ry wan!

Sure, we picked oop gla.s.s for a wake afther."

Maida's wistful look vanished in a peal of silvery laughter. "Did I really, Granny?" she asked in delight. "Did I break every bottle?

Are you sure? Every one?"

"Iv'ry wan as sure as OI'm a living sinner," said Granny. "Faith and 'twas the bad little gyurl that you was often-now that I sthop to t'ink av ut."

Maida bounded back to the shop in high spirits. Granny heard her say "Every bottle!" again and again in a whispering little voice.

"Just think, Granny," she called after a while. "I've made one, two, three, four, five friends-d.i.c.ky, Molly, Tim, Betsy and Laura-though I don't call her quite a friend yet. Pretty good for so soon!"

Maida was to make a sixth friend, although not quite so quickly.

It began that noontime with a strange little scene that acted itself out in front of Maida's window. The children had begun to gather for school, although it was still very quiet. Suddenly around the corner came a wild hullaballoo-the shouts of small boys, the yelp of a dog, the rattle and clang of tin dragged on the brick sidewalk. In another instant appeared a dog, a small, yellow cur, collarless and forlorn-looking, with a string of tin cans tied to his tail, a horde of small boys yelling after him and pelting him with stones.

Maida started up, but before she could get to the door, something flashed like a scarlet comet from across the street. It was the little girl whom Maida had seen twice before-the one who always wore the scarlet cape.

Even in the excitement, Maida noticed how handsome she was. She seemed proud. She carried her slender, erect little body as if she were a princess and her big eyes cast flashing glances about her.

Jet-black were her eyes and hair, milk-white were her teeth but in the olive of her cheeks flamed a red such as could be matched only in the deepest roses. Maida christened her Rose-Red at once.

Rose-Red lifted the little dog into her arms with a single swoop of her strong arm. She yanked the cans from its tail with a single indignant jerk. Fondling the trembling creature against her cheek, she talked first to him, then to his abashed persecutors.

"You sweet, little, darling puppy, you! Did they tie the wicked cans to his poor little tail!" and then-"if ever I catch one of you boys treating a poor, helpless animal like this again, I'll shake the breath out of your body-was he the beautifullest dog that ever was?

And if that isn't enough, Arthur Duncan will lick you all, won't you, Arthur?" She turned pleadingly to Arthur.

Arthur nodded.

"n.o.body's going to hurt helpless creatures while I'm about! He was a sweet little, precious little, pretty little puppy, so he was."

Rose-Red marched into the court with the puppy, opened a gate and dropped him inside.

"That pup belongs to me, now," she said marching back.

The school bell ringing at this moment ended the scene.

"Who's that little girl who wears the scarlet cape?" Maida asked Dorothy and Mabel Clark when they came in together at four.

"Rosie Brine," they answered in chorus.

"She's a dreffle naughty girl," Mabel said in a whisper, and "My mommer won't let me play with her," Dorothy added.