Happy Days for Boys and Girls Part 52
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"Why, papa, how very kind of you!" cried f.a.n.n.y, who had not dared to receive even a geranium leaf since the late sc.r.a.pe.
"Your father used to be a very gallant young gentleman once upon a time," said Mrs. Shaw, with a simper and sigh.
"Ah, Tom, it's a good sign when you find time to think of giving pleasure to your little girls."
And grandma patted her son's bald head as if he wasn't more than eighteen.
Thomas, Jr., had given a somewhat scornful sniff at first; but when grandma praised his father, the young man thought better of the matter, and regarded the flowers with more respect as he asked, "Which is for which?"
"Guess," said Mr. Shaw, pleased that his unusual demonstration had produced such an effect.
The largest was a regular hot-house bouquet of tea-rosebuds, scentless heath, and smilax; the second was just a handful of sweet-peas and mignonette, with a few cheerful pansies and one fragrant little rose in the middle; the third, a small posy of scarlet verbenas, white feverfew, and green leaves.
"Not hard to guess. The smart one for Fan, the sweet one for Polly, and the gay one for Pug. Now, then, catch hold, girls;" and Tom proceeded to deliver the nosegays with as much grace as could be expected from a youth in a new suit of clothes and very tight boots.
"That finishes you off just right, and is a very pretty attention of papa. Now run down, for the bell has rung; and remember not to dance too often, Fan; be as quiet as you can, Tom; and, Maud, don't eat too much supper. Grandma will attend to things, for my poor nerves won't allow me to come down."
With that Mrs. Shaw dismissed them, and the four descended to receive the first visitors.
LOUISA M. ALCOTT.
[Decoration]
THE ACCIDENT.
Tom named his velocipede Black Auster, in memory of the horse in "The Battle of Lake Regillus," and came to grief as soon as he began to ride his new steed.
"Come out and see me go it," whispered Tom to Polly, after three days'
practice in the street, for he had already learned to ride in the rink.
Polly and Maud willingly went, and watched his struggles with deep interest, till he got an upset, which nearly put an end to his velocipeding forever.
"Hi, there! Auster's coming!" shouted Tom, as he came rattling down the long, steep street outside the park.
They stepped aside, and he whizzed by, arms and legs going like mad, and the general appearance of a runaway engine. It would have been a triumphant descent, if a big dog had not bounced suddenly through one of the openings, and sent the whole concern helter-skelter into the gutter. Polly laughed as she ran to view the ruin, for Tom lay flat on his back with the velocipede atop of him, while the big dog barked wildly, and his master scolded him for his awkwardness. But when she saw Tom's face, Polly was frightened, for the color had all gone out of it, his eyes looked strange and dizzy, and drops of blood began to trickle from a great cut on his forehead. The man saw it, too, and had him up in a minute; but Tom couldn't stand, and stared about him in a dazed sort of way, as he sat on the curbstone, while Polly held her handkerchief to his forehead, and pathetically begged to know if he was killed.
"Don't scare mother--I'm all right. Got upset, didn't I?" he asked, presently, eying the prostrate velocipede with more anxiety about its damages than his own.
"I knew you'd hurt yourself with that horrid thing. Just let it be, and come home, for your head bleeds dreadfully, and everybody is looking at us," whispered Polly, trying to tie the little handkerchief over the ugly cut.
"Come on, then Jove! how queer my head feels! Give us a boost, please.
Stop howling, Maud, and come home. You bring the machine, and I'll pay you, Pat." As he spoke, Tom slowly picked himself up, and steadying himself by Polly's shoulder, issued his commands, and the procession fell into line. First, the big dog, barking at intervals; then the good-natured Irishman, trundling "that divil of a whirligig," as he disrespectfully called the idolized velocipede; then the wounded hero, supported by the faithful Polly; and Maud brought up the rear in tears, bearing Tom's cap.
LOUISA M. ALCOTT.
[Decoration]
[Ill.u.s.tration: "It would have been a triumphant descent, if a big dog had not bounced suddenly through one of the openings."]
[Decoration]
POLLY ARRIVES.
The train was just in when Tom reached the station, panting like a race-horse and as red as a lobster with the wind and the run.
"Suppose she'll wear a top-knot and a thingumbob, like every one else; and how ever shall I know her? Too bad of Fan to make me come alone!"
thought Tom, as he stood watching the crowd stream through the depot, and feeling rather daunted at the array of young ladies who pa.s.sed. As none of them seemed looking for any one, he did not accost them, but eyed each new batch with the air of a martyr. "That's her," he said to himself, as he presently caught sight of a girl, in gorgeous array, standing with her hands folded, and a very small hat perched on top of a very large "chig-non," as Tom p.r.o.nounced it. "I suppose I've got to speak to her, so, here goes;" and, nerving himself to the task, Tom slowly approached the damsel, who looked as if the wind had blown her clothes into rags, such a flapping of sashes, scallops, ruffles, curls, and feathers was there.
"I say, if you please, is your name _Polly Milton_?" meekly asked Tom, pausing before the breezy stranger.
"No, it isn't," answered the young lady, with a cool stare that utterly quenched him.
"Where in thunder is she?" growled Tom, walking off in high dudgeon.
The quick tap of feet behind him made him turn in time to see a fresh-faced little girl running down the long station, and looking as if she rather liked it. As she smiled, and waved her bag at him, he stopped and waited for her, saying to himself, "Hullo! I wonder if that's Polly?"
Up came the little girl, with her hand out, and a half-shy, half-merry look in her blue eyes, as she said, inquiringly, "This is Tom, isn't it?"
"Yes. How did you know?" and Tom got over the ordeal of hand-shaking without thinking of it, he was so surprised.
"Oh, Fan told me you'd got curly hair and a funny nose, and kept whistling, and wore a gray cap pulled over your eyes; so I knew you directly." And Polly nodded at him in the most friendly manner, having politely refrained from calling the hair "red," the nose "a pug," and the cap "old."
"Where are your trunks?" asked Tom, as he was reminded of his duty by her handing him the bag, which he had not offered to take.
"Father told me not to wait for any one, else I'd lose my chance of a hack; so I gave my check to a man, and there he is with my trunk;" and Polly walked off after her one modest piece of baggage, followed by Tom, who felt a trifle depressed by his own remissness in polite attentions.
LOUISA M. ALCOTT.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "THIS IS TOM, ISN'T IT?"]
KINDNESS TO ANIMALS.
Last month a gentleman related an incident in his early life, showing how kindness to the brute creation makes them entirely subservient to our will. Similar experience is familiar to every one of us. This volume would not begin to contain the proofs which come under notice every day of our lives. Your dog or your cat understands your disposition as well as your brother or your sister. Give them a kick as you pa.s.s by, pull their ears or tail whenever you get an opportunity, and they will shun you as they would the plague. On the other hand, speak a kind word to them, give them a morsel of food, or fondle them kindly, and they will soon treat you as a friend.
I have a cat who waits for my coming home every night as regularly as the sun. And if, perchance, I do not come at my usual time in the train, she shows her disappointment by mewing. She will roll over as obediently as you ever saw a dog, at the word of command. After supper, when I put on my slippers and take the evening paper, puss takes possession of my lap, and then she seems contented and happy.
Kindness did all this--nothing else. Any cat can be taught to "roll over" in a week's time. Any cat will be your friend, and love you, if you will treat her well.
Happy Days for Boys and Girls Part 52
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Happy Days for Boys and Girls Part 52 summary
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