Prue tried to lift p.u.s.s.y out, and Randy ran to help her.

Poor p.u.s.s.y! If Randy had been a few minutes later, she must surely have been drowned, for, just as Randy arrived, Prue was holding Tabby's head under water "to let it soak," she said.

"What ever made you do such a thing?" questioned Randy, when the cat was once more on dry land; "don't you know that in a few minutes more you would have drowned her?"

"Drowned!" said Prue in a horrified whisper, "drowned, did you say, Randy?"

"Why, of course," said Randy, impatiently; "don't you _know_ she'd drown with her head under water?"

"Why, Randy, that's awful!" said Prue. "I didn't mean to hurt Tabby. I only meant to help her. She comed down from the field what's been burned over, and she was all s.m.u.tty, and I thought I'd give her a good washing; so I put her in the tub, but the s.m.u.t sticked awful, and I thought I'd soak her and p'rhaps she'd wash easier; and, Randy, whatever you say, she _isn't_ drowned one mite. Just see her washing herself dry in the sun."

"Oh, Prue, Prue!" said Randy, "what shall I do with you? You do the queerest things! Go tell Tabby you're sorry this minute. If kitty had died, just think how you'd felt."

"Now, don't you make me cry, Randy," said Prue, "'cause you know I love Tabby, and I didn't mean to hurt her."

The cat was an unusually placid animal, or she never would have permitted a little girl to do such a thing. Prue had always used her for a doll, dressing her up in all sorts of things, and sometimes dragging her about in a wooden box which she called a "carriage." This alleged vehicle was an old soap box, beautifully padded with a woollen shawl. It had neither wheels nor springs, and as little Prue dragged it along, it thumped over twigs and stones with the most surprising jolts. p.u.s.s.y, however, seemed to have a species of lethargy, for she slept through it all; so Prue insisted that she liked the ride. The family declared the cat to be absolutely without vim; but that deficiency in her make-up made her a delightful plaything for Prue.

After dinner Mrs. Weston talked long and seriously with her little daughter, telling her that as p.u.s.s.y was so gentle and willing to be played with, she ought to be very kind to her and never do anything that Tabby would not like.

"But I wanted Tabby to be clean in time for the folks to see her when we have the apple-bee," said Prue.

"Oh, she'll be clean as clean can be by that time," said her mother, smiling. "She'll have a whole week to wash in. I think that when you wish to do something to kitty different from what you've done before, you'd better come and ask me first."

"I will," said the little girl, promptly, and Mrs. Weston knew that p.u.s.s.y was safe from any new torment, for Prue always kept her word, and she loved Tabby dearly.

Early in the afternoon, as Mrs. Weston sat by the window mending, another wagon stopped at the door; and this time a tall, angular woman came up the path with nervous haste. The door was open, and without waiting to knock, the caller walked in and seated herself.

"There, I guess you're s'prised to see me, Mis' Weston, but I jest had ter come."

"Well, I am surprised," responded Mrs. Weston; "but I'm just as pleased ter see ye. Take off yer bunnit."

"I'll take it off jest ter show it ter ye," said Mrs. Jenks. "I thought I'd had a change of heart years an' years ago, but I guess I've jest got it now."

"Do tell! Why, Mrs. Jenks, how ye talk," and in blank amazement Mrs.

Weston stopped mending, the stocking, however, still drawn over her hand.

"Well, ye might as well stop mendin' an' listen, fer I've come ter tell ye quite a story. It all began with this bunnit. I stepped over ter Mis'

Gray's one mornin' of an arrant, an' I chanced to say something about not havin' a decent bunnit fer Sunday, an' I said I had a bunnit I'd bought down ter Barnses and quite a lot of old ribbon that was plenty good enough to trim it with; but, says I, I've no more idee how to trim it than a cat. Miss Dayton was just comin' in the door with a lot of wild flowers and green stuff, and she offered, so sweetly, to call over in the afternoon and jest tack the ribbons on fer me that, some way, I had ter let her do it.

"Well, she came over and I got out my ribbon-it was that I had on a blue dress of mine once-and she sat down to trim it. It took some time, and to this day I don't know how it came about, but the first thing I knew she was a-makin' me see how much better it was to give rather than receive. Now I've been pretty 'near' and savin', but I never meant ter be mean; but she led me to talk of the time when Reuben was little, and 'fore I knew it I was tellin' that girl how I used to leave my work jist ter look at him in the old wooden cradle. I told her what I'd most forgot myself: how I could never let him lay there, but jest had ter take him up and hug him jest a minute an' then go on with my work. I've never meant ter be hard with the boy, but p'r'aps I forgit sometimes that he's pretty young still.

"Well, Miss Dayton looked up from the bows she was makin' pretty, and says she, 'Reuben's a nice little fellow, and I think, if you were to try it, you'd find he liked petting still. I've talked with him many times since I've been here, and I find that his one idea seems to be to grow up as fast as possible so as to be able to help father and mother.'

"I tell ye, Mis' Weston, I was all took back to find a sweet young girl who was 'most a stranger to us had learned my boy's good traits 'fore I had. Well, when Reuben came in jist 'fore supper-time with his jacket with a big tear in it, I was jist ready ter say somethin'. He took the jacket off and hung it on my chair ter be mended; and layin' his hand on my shoulder, he said, 'I wish I didn't get my things tore quite so often, mother, but this time I couldn't help it.'

"It took lots er resolution, but I jest kissed him on his forehead, and the s'prised look on his face made me realize how long it had been sence I'd kissed him before.

"'Reuben,' says I, 'no matter what I say when I speak hasty, just remember that yer mother thinks the world of ye!'

"'F you'll believe me, that boy flew at me, and puttin' his arms round my neck he said, 'Why, mother, a minute ago I was awful sorry, and now I'm almost glad I tore my jacket.'

"'So be I,' says I, and then we both laughed, but we were jest as near cryin', and I tell you, Mis' Weston, I ain't never goin' ter have such a distance, so to speak, between my boy and me as there has been; I guess we understand each other now."

"Well, I don't know when I've heard any better news," said Mrs. Weston, taking off her gla.s.ses and slowly wiping them. "I think pretty well of little Reuben, and I b'lieve, properly encouraged, he'll make a good man."

"Well, now, it beats all how Miss Dayton does things," said Mrs. Jenks.

"Some folks would have blundered about it in a way that would have made me mad, but to this day, I do say, I don't know how she done it. And look at that bunnit," continued enthusiastic Mrs. Jenks, "didn't she make them bows pretty? I declare, there ain't a prettier bunnit in the meetin'-house than that."

"'Tis pretty," a.s.sented Mrs. Weston; "just as pretty as it can be."

"So I say," said Mrs. Jenks, "and now this mornin' I met Mis' Hodgkins and her husband. 'They'd just come from here,' they said, 'and,' says Mis' Hodgkins, 'we're goin' ter have the first apple-bee ter Mis'

Weston's and,' says she, sorter smilin', 'I ain't sure's you'll be very anxious ter help, but we're all goin' ter do our part ter help make a grand time fer Miss Dayton;' and says I, 'If it's fer Miss Dayton, I'll agree to contribute anything you like toward the supper, and I'll go right over now an' tell Mis' Weston so.' My, but didn't she look at me!

I laughed ter myself, an' I said right out loud, as I drove off, 'Matilda Jenks, this is the last time any one will have a chance ter call ye stingy.'

"I commenced this mornin' by givin' Reuben a lot of maple sugar to treat the boys with, and I tell you Miss Dayton's 'bout right, it does feel good to give. We've been prospered, and from this time forth I ain't goin' ter be foolish with this world's goods; but I _vow_ I won't be mean; so I've come ter say that if there's anythin' I can offer ter help make the bee a success, jest say the word an' you shall have it."

"Mrs. Jenks," said Mrs. Weston, kindly, "I always said ye hadn't but one fault, and now you've overcome that, seems to me you're pretty near perfect."

"I guess there's room fer improvement," said Mrs. Jenks, grasping her friend's extended hand, "but I've started in the right direction. Now, I must be goin', and remember I'll do anything ter help along that bee."

Mrs. Weston promised to remember, and as rapidly as she came Matilda Jenks strode down the path and drove away.

A few minutes later Randy came running in at the door. "Oh, mother,"

said she, "I ran out to look for Prue again, while Mrs. Jenks was talking, and, mother, she's doing the cunningest thing. She's playing read. She's lying on the gra.s.s back of the house, with the fairy book in front of her. She's making b'lieve read to Tabby. Do come and see her."

Softly they made their way around the house and, sure enough, there lay Prue, the wonderful fairy book before her, her elbows on the book, and her chin in her hands. Soon they were near enough to hear what she was reading, and yet not to be observed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Prue and Tabby reading the Fairy Book]

"Now, Tabby," she was saying, "you _mustn't_ go to sleep when I'm reading to you. Now you listen: The princess-that's Miss Dayton, Tabby-is very beautiful, and so I know there must be a prince, somewhere, that she knows; 'cause, Tabby, in the fairy tales the princesses always has princes; and, Tabby, I'll tell you truly, Miss Dayton is prettier than any picture in this book. And, Tabby, she loves little girls and big girls, like my Randy, and she loves big womens and old womens and old mens, like Sandy McLeod; and, Tabby, I b'lieve, I most b'lieve she loves you, and I'm going to ask her.

"She prob'ly does love you; she seems to love everybody. This isn't all in the book, Tabby, but what I tell you that isn't in the book is true.

I'm most glad the fairy stories ain't true; for if things did happen like what's in the book, maybe you'd turn into a frog, and then, Tabby, I couldn't hug you."

Here Tabby rubbed her head against Prue's little arm. "There," said the child, "you _knew_ what I said, didn't you?" and she sprang up, catching Tabby in her arms to "love her," as she called it.

"Oh, did you hear me reading to my kitty?" shouted Prue, as she caught sight of her smiling audience.

"We heard ye, and I guess some of it was full as pretty as what was in the book," said Mrs. Weston, and together the three wended their way back to the house, followed by Tabby.

CHAPTER X-THE APPLE-BEE

The apple-bee was to occur on Thursday evening, and Mrs. Weston and Randy, with little Prue for "errand boy," had been busily employed in preparation for the delightful event. Prue made a fine little page, so delighted was she to be useful.

"Bring me the yellow mixin' bowl, Prue," called Mrs. Weston. Into the closet darted Prue, and over to the table with the big bowl she hastened. "Now what shall I do to help the apple-bee?" said she.