Tabitha at Ivy Hall Part 6

All this Tabitha saw as she stumbled over the threshold, but without heeding either of the two men, she cast herself into Tom's arms with the wail, "O, Tom, you ain't to blame, and you don't deserve to be thrashed!

I told a lie and I stole the white silk dress with those lovely scallops. But those were such grand names--yours 'specially, though mine was longer--and oh, I hate being a cat all my life! I said more'n Dad gave me to say and I told folks that his name was 'lean Manx Catt,' and I told 'em Aunt Maria's name. Miss Brooks won't like me any more, and I expect Carrie will hate me, too."

There was a stifled exclamation--she thought from Tom--then two strong arms closed around her, and she found herself crying into someone's vest pocket, but it wasn't Tom's. He had not yet attained the dignity of vests. Surprised, she hushed her sobs, though she still clung to the protecting arms, and in a moment she heard Tom say, "She will be all right now, sir. I will take her home."

But the big arms only held her closer and Mr. Carson's voice, trembling a little and husky with emotion, replied, "I want her for a little while, Tom. Leave her with me."

Laying aside the notebook with its fascinating rows of figures, the man led the amazed child out of the building and down the steep rocky path toward the Carson home, holding her hand fast in his own, and speaking gently, cheerily as they walked.

"It was all a mistake, little girl, and everyone makes mistakes. It wasn't a lie and it wasn't stealing. You ought to have asked someone about it and everything would have been all right, but you mustn't cry about it any more. Carrie loves you just the same and so does Mother Carson and so do I. I don't think Tabitha is a horrid name--"

"But Tabitha _Catt_!" quavered the tearful little voice. "Folks make fun of me and say hateful things and call me Tabby Catt--"

"Tabby cats are such nice pets," the man interrupted, "so gentle and nice and pretty."

"But I'm homely. If I was pretty maybe they wouldn't call me names."

"No, dear, it isn't that. When they plague you, you scratch; and so they like to tease. If you paid no attention to the thoughtless things they said, they would soon stop teasing."

"Do you really think they would? I thought it was because of the name.

No one teased me much when my name was Theodora Marcella Gabrielle Julianna Victoria Emeline."

He smiled. The name sounded so perfectly incongruous for that slender slip of girl, more so than the despised Tabitha; but he understood what a charm the long, rhythmic words held for the child who had missed so much happiness in her short life, so he gravely answered,

"I am sure if you try to laugh with those who make fun of you, and won't get mad no matter what they say, they will soon forget all about the odd little name and will love you for what you are."

"That will be awfully hard to do," sighed Tabitha, thinking of the many times she had been tormented because of that name, "but if--you think it will work,--I'll try."

Before he had a chance to say anything further, the door of the Carson house flew open and happy-faced Carrie flew up the path to meet them, crying joyously, "Miss Brooks is here, and she wants to see you, 'cause we've missed you dreadfully at school."

CHAPTER VI

A DOG AND A CAT

"Oh, Tabitha, Tabitha, come over to my house and see what papa has brought me!"

Carrie's voice was shrill with joy; and hastily setting the last cup on the pantry shelf, Tabitha seized her sunbonnet and rushed away to join her excited playmate. "It's out here on the back porch, and oh, it's a perfect darling! Tell me what to call him. Isn't he a beauty?"

Talking and laughing and capering in delight, Carrie led the way to the rear of the house, and there in a box on the steps was a beautiful, black, s.h.a.ggy pup, with the longest, silkiest hair and the prettiest brown eyes.

"Oh, Carrie Carson, aren't you the luckiest girl!" cried Tabitha, looking enviously at the treasure as she bent over it to smooth the soft, s.h.a.ggy coat. "Just see what beau-ti-ful ears he has! And what a cunning nose! See him lick my hand!"

"He's kissing you. Isn't he cute? One of papa's men at the mine owned four of these little pups, and he sold this one for five dollars. He is to be my very own and I am going to teach him tricks when he is old enough. Isn't he a darling?"

"I should say he is! I wish he belonged to me." The black eyes grew very wistful and the brown face unusually sober as she examined this new toy, this live toy that could really play with its little mistress and understand, at least in a measure, whatever was said to it.

Carrie saw the longing glance and promptly said, "You can play with him, too, Puss, and help me teach him things,--to speak when he wants something to eat, and to bring us sticks or stones when we throw them for him to chase, and to jump through barrel hoops, and to shake hands, and to walk on his hind legs like Jimmy's dog, Sport, does, and to play sleep, and to stand on his hind legs--"

"That will be ever so nice, but it isn't the same as if he was mine, Carrie," interrupted the mournful Tabitha, completely wrapped up in this tiny specimen of puppyhood.

"No--that's so," answered the other child thoughtfully, watching the precious possession with jealous eyes as it curled up in Tabitha's arms and shut its eyes for a nap.

"He likes me already, doesn't he? I've always wanted a pet, but we've never stayed long enough in one place to have anything of this kind. I had a rabbit once, but a dog caught it, and I cried so hard Aunt Maria said I never should have another."

"I'll tell you what! Part of this dog can be yours," said Carrie generously, though it cost her an effort to speak those words.

"Oh, Carrie, you don't mean that?" cried the astonished Tabitha. "Really own part of your beautiful pup? What will your father and mother say?"

"They won't care a bit. The dog is all mine to do what I like with, and I like to give you a share of him. Course he will live here, and I will feed him, so papa can tell me what to give him, as pups are very hard to raise properly and it takes someone that knows how to do it. But you can really, truly own half of him."

"What a good girl you are, Carrie!" exclaimed the other part owner, much impressed at Carrie's grand air of knowledge. "If I had a dog all my own, I'm afraid I'd never want to share him with anyone else, except to play with. I'd want to keep all the owners.h.i.+p myself."

"Well, it would be different with you. All the pets you ever have had was a bunny, while I've had a Shetland pony until we came up here on the desert where there isn't anything for him to eat, and a little lamb out on grandma's farm, and two brown hens, and a pair of doves, and three kitties, and this makes the second dog."

"Oh!"

"That's a lot of pets to have one person own, isn't it? But they didn't all belong to me at the same time, and this dog is the best of them all--except the pony. Dear little Arrow is at grandma's house now and when I go back to town to live, if I'm not too big I am to have her again."

"What a cute name for a pony! What are you going to call this pup?"

"I had thought of Ponto, but papa says he will grow up into a big dog, and he thought General would be a nice name."

"I like Ponto best, I believe. It has a grander sound to it than General. And yet--can I name my half of the dog, too?" as a sudden inspiration came to her mind.

"Why--yes--if it fits in with General," a little doubtfully, for Carrie's ideas of beautiful names differed materially from Tabitha's.

"It will go with it splendidly--Sheridan Sherman Grant McClellan."

"Which one?"

"All of them. That ain't too many, is it? I do like all those generals so much, and I should hate to have to drop any of them."

"It's an awfully long name to say when you want to call a dog," said the first little mistress reflectively, yet afraid to suggest the curtailing of it for fear of wounding her playmate.

"But you can shorten it up like--like I did once with--" The unhappy episode was still very fresh in her mind, and her heart still very sore; so she hesitated, unwilling to recall it further.

"I know," interrupted sympathetic Carrie hastily. "We can shorten it to General Sheridan or General--what would you shorten it to?"

"General McClellan is the grandest sounding name, but General Grant is the easiest to say, and I suppose a dog ought to be called the easiest name so he can remember it. We'll call him General Grant."

The dog was named.

That evening Tabitha was sitting on the steps studying her geography when Tom came home late for supper, but every moment or two she would look up from her books toward the Carson house, and stare intently at something he could not see, while she seemed to be listening for something he could not hear. From his seat at the table he could watch her un.o.bserved, and when at last he had satisfied his appet.i.te, he joined her on the steps, asking curiously, "What's the matter, Puss?

Geography doesn't seem to be interesting you."

"Oh, Tom, it's the pup! Carrie has the dearest little s.h.a.ggy dog. She said I might be part owner of it, and we've named him General Sheridan Sherman Grant McClellan. General is her name for him, and the rest is mine. It's most too long to say the whole of it every time we want him to come, so we are going to call him General Grant for short. Isn't that a nice name?"