IKEY'S ACCIDENT.

The days grew shorter and cooler, the leaves began to flutter down, and each morning, from her sitting-room window, Miss Brown watched the children start for school.

First the little girls, tossing good-by kisses to Aunt Zelie, ran down the walk to join Dora or Elsie; then a few minutes later Ikey was at the gate whistling for Carl. In the five months since Ikey had come to stay with his grandparents the boys had become almost inseparable.

Dr. Isaac Clinton Ford was a surgeon in the navy, and having been ordered to the Mediterranean, his wife, whose health was not good, followed him, with their little daughter, while young Isaac was sent to his father's old home. Warmly attached to it himself, Dr. Ford could think of no better place for his son, and old Mr. and Mrs. Ford felt that it would be almost like having their boy again, from whom they had had only brief visits for eighteen years.

Unfortunately, neither took into account that young Isaac was totally unlike the quiet, studious boy his father had been. It was a question which suffered most during those first weeks, the elderly people whose lives had moved on like clockwork for so many years, or the mischievous, fun-loving boy suddenly introduced into their household.

The Fords' was a tall, three-story, stone front house, with everything about it inside and out in immaculate order. The stone steps and walk were spotless, the windows shone, and the shades and curtains were arranged in the most exact manner. The only flowers were three oleanders in tubs, and these partook of the general tidiness.

It is easy to see that a boy without any deep regard for spotless stones, who labored under the delusion that windows were made to look out of, and who did not hesitate to push curtains aside and open blinds, who whistled when his grandfather was taking his nap, left his things lying about, and teased the snappish old pug was destined to be a trial. On the other hand, the change from a free and easy home life, with a mother as merry-hearted as himself and a father who was more of a boy at forty than he had been at twelve, to that humdrum routine would have been trying to wiser people than Ikey.

No wonder the first weeks were full of miserable homesickness. Life would have been unendurable if the Hazeltines had not discovered him.

Ikey was ready to meet them more than half way, and before long became their boon companion.

Mrs. Howard, the children's aunt, guessed how matters stood, for she had lived across the street from the Fords most of her life; so she went to his grandmother, and asked her to let Ikey play with Carl and the little girls every day.

Mrs. Ford consented, feeling surprised and gratified; and unwilling to be lacking in hospitality, she allowed her grandson and his friends the freedom of the back yard, on condition that they would respect the front. Before the summer was over she had become so used to the sound of the children's voices that she no longer found it necessary to go to the window every five minutes to see what they were doing.

Ikey had a genius for getting hurt. Cuts, b.u.mps, and bruises were matters of every-day occurrence, and were accepted with a heroism born of long familiarity. But one morning when he and Carl were on their way to school he met with an accident which was unusually hard to bear.

As they were pa.s.sing a high board fence they heard a great barking and growling, as if a lot of dogs were tearing one another to pieces.

"What in the world!" exclaimed Carl, trying to find some crack or knothole.

"You can't see in that way," Ikey cried scornfully, and giving a spring he grasped the top of the fence and drew himself up to look over.

Exactly how it happened he could never tell; probably his curiosity was resented, for before he had time to see anything, some sharp teeth made themselves felt, and he dropped down groaning, "My nose! My nose!" Carl was very much alarmed at sight of the blood that streamed down from his face, but had presence of mind to remember a doctor's office in the next block.

"Your nose isn't all gone, is it?" he asked anxiously, as he led the way.

"No, I think there is some of it left," came in m.u.f.fled tones from the handkerchief Ikey held to his face.

Fortunately the doctor was in and dressed the wound, p.r.o.nouncing it not serious, but advising his patient not to be in such a hurry to investigate strange dogs another time, or he might lose the whole of his nose instead of only a slice.

Relieved that it was no worse, and not being in the habit of making a fuss over his hurts, Ikey decided to go on to school.

Perhaps if he could have looked in the gla.s.s he would not have been so ready, for the yellow plaster did not add to his beauty.

Now all danger was over, Carl could not contain himself, but laughed and laughed till his friend's feelings were somewhat hurt.

They were late of course, and created a sensation when they entered, and the suppressed amus.e.m.e.nt among the boys became an uproar at recess. It was decidedly trying to be the object of so much school-boy wit; to hear over and over again: "Ikey, what ails your nose?"--"Can't you wear it in a sling?"--"Or put a shade over it?"--or to see on the blackboard lines adapted from Mother Goose:

"It used to be a blackbird, so the story goes, But now it is a puppy dog that nips off his nose."

He stood it bravely till school was over, but on the way home, at sight of the girls on the corner he made a sudden dive across the street.

"Where is Ikey going?" Louise asked, in surprise, of Carl and Aleck.

"He has lost his nose," answered the latter.

"Has he gone to look for it?" laughed Dora.

"Tell us what you mean," said Bess.

With much laughter the boys told the story.

"It is mean of you to make fun. Suppose it was your nose?" and Louise held on to her own.

"Perhaps it won't turn up any more," suggested Bess.

"I am afraid he won't go to the ball-game; that will be too bad," said Carl.

They were all going with Uncle William to see a game of foot-ball that afternoon, and there was only time for a hasty lunch before they started. Carl ran over to beg Ikey to go in spite of his disfigurement, but a melancholy voice from the third-story landing declined so positively that there was nothing left to be said.

From behind the curtains Ikey watched the party start off, and felt very unhappy at not being with them.

That was a miserable afternoon! His grandmother's exclamations and questions had only made matters worse, and he took refuge in his room, declining to eat any lunch.

Before long he succeeded in convincing himself that n.o.body cared for him, except, perhaps, his father and mother, who were so far away.

Maybe the others would be sorry when he died of hydrophobia. He had heard that people often had it when they were bitten by dogs, and it seemed very probable that this would be his fate.

Absorbed in his misery, he hardly knew how time pa.s.sed, till some one knocked at his door. He lay on the couch with his face buried in the pillows, and thinking it was the housemaid he said, "Come in," without looking up.

The hand that touched his head, however, was not Katie's, nor the voice that said, "You poor boy!"

It was Mrs. Howard, or Aunt Zelie as he always called her in his thoughts.

Overwhelmed with mingled delight and dismay, he could only struggle to a sitting position, with his handkerchief to his nose and not a word to say.

She did not appear to notice this, but talked on, and in some way it came about that presently his aching head was down on the pillows again, and her soft hand was smoothing back his hair, just as Mamma did, while she told him that Mr. Hazeltine had inquired about the dogs, and found that they were only very large and lively puppies, not at all vicious.

Ikey heaved a sigh of relief, and managed to thank her for her thoughtfulness. Then they talked of other things, and he actually lit the gas--for it was growing dark--that she might see the photographs of his mother and sister.

Before Aunt Zelie left they were even laughing together over his funny accident, and when with a kiss on his forehead she was gone, it was a much happier boy she left on the sofa.

There was sure to be a tonic in her petting, and Ikey got up and washed his face, looking bravely in the gla.s.s meanwhile. Then he went meekly downstairs and enjoyed his dinner. Mrs. Ford never petted anyone, she did not know how; but she showed her sympathy by offering her grandson all sorts of good things to eat.

At the most exciting moment of the foot-ball game Louise exclaimed: "We haven't done anything to help Ikey, and he is really and truly our neighbor!"

"We will try to find something to take him," said Uncle William.

There was little to be had in that part of the town, so they turned it into a joke, and it was a most remarkable collection that Carl and Aleck displayed in the Fords' sitting-room that night.

There was a toy balloon, a beetle that ran all over the room in a life-like manner, a jumping jack, and some popcorn b.a.l.l.s.