Dorothy Dainty's Gay Times Part 19

Over the bal.u.s.ter she flung cus.h.i.+on after cus.h.i.+on, until Arabella's curiosity forced her to question.

"What ever _are_ you going to do with all those cus.h.i.+ons?" she asked.

Patricia looked very wise.

"Oh, you'll see," she said, and when she had reached the lower hall she peeped out.

"Here it is!" she said.

Arabella looked.

"Why, that's an old _pung_!" she said

"Well, who said it wasn't?" Patricia replied sharply; "but it isn't an _old_ one _now_, because it has just been painted yellow. It's our grocer's, and the boy that drives it is going to let us ride in it this afternoon." Arabella hesitated. She knew that Aunt Matilda did not wish her to be with Patricia at all, and she also felt that to ride in a yellow pung, lettered, "Fine Groceries, b.u.t.ter, Cheese, and Eggs," was surely not aristocratic, and yet, what _fun_ it would be!

CHAPTER X

THE PUNG RIDE

The grocer's boy had delivered all of his parcels except two large paper bags which he had pushed over near the dasher. Patricia began to bring out the cus.h.i.+ons, and the boy tossed them in upon the straw which lay upon the floor of the pung. Then Patricia and Arabella climbed in, the boy cracked his whip, the horse sprang forward with a surprising jolt, then settled down to a comical amble.

How cold it was! Arabella had wondered at the number of shawls which Patricia had taken. Now she was very glad to wrap two around her, while Patricia wore the other two.

"G'lang!" shouted the boy, and again the horse gave an amazing hop which sent the pung forward with a lurch, and rolled the two girls over upon the straw. Patricia thought it a joke, but Arabella, never very good-tempered, was actually angry. "O dear!" she cried, "I think it's just horrid to be shaken up so. Well, I don't think you're very nice to laugh about it, Patricia. I wouldn't like to take any one out to a sleighride, and have 'em banged around,--oh, o-o!"

It was a "thank-you-ma'am" in the middle of the road that caused Arabella's angry speech to end in a little shriek.

It was useless for Patricia to try to hide her merriment. She could not help laughing. She rarely felt sorry for any one's discomfort, and really Arabella did look funny.

In the shake-up, her hat had been pushed over to one side of her head, but she did not know that, and her old-fas.h.i.+oned little face looked smaller than usual, because of the two heavy shawls which were crowded so high that she appeared to have no neck at all. Small as her face was, it could show a great deal of rage, and as she drew her shawls tighter around her, and glared at Patricia, she looked odd enough to make any one laugh.

"You look as if you'd like to spit like a cat," laughed Patricia, and just at that moment the boy who was driving turned to ask which way he should go.

"I got ter take them bags over ter the big old house what's painted the color er this pung, an' stands between a old barn an' a carriage shed.

Know where 'tis?" he asked.

"Indeed, I don't," declared Patricia.

"Wal, I was goin' ter say that I kin git there by two different roads, an' I'd go the way ye'd like best ter go ef ye knew which that was," he said. "I only know I want the ride, and this road is stupid and poky.

Go the way that has the most houses on it," Patricia answered, and the boy turned into another avenue, and soon they were pa.s.sing houses enough, such as they were!

Small houses that were dingy, and held one family, and larger ones that must have held three tribes at least, judging by the number of was.h.i.+ngs which hung upon the dilapidated piazzas.

"G'lang!" shouted the boy, but the nag had heard that too often to be impressed, and he only wagged one ear in response, but took not a step quicker.

Arabella was cold and provoked that she had come. Patricia was excited, and felt that she was having a frolic, and even Arabella's glum face could not quiet her; indeed, the more she looked at her, the more inclined was she to laugh. Arabella felt aggrieved.

"The idea of laughing at _me_," she thought, "when I should think I might laugh at her for inviting me to ride in a sleigh that is only a _pung_!"

Then something happened which made Arabella forget that she was provoked with Patricia, because she suddenly became so vexed with some one else.

A short, stubby boy with a ma.s.s of hay-colored hair, ran out from a yard that they were pa.s.sing.

"Ho! Look at the girlth a-havin' a ride out! Look at the horthe! My, thee hith bonthe thtick out! Gueth they feed him on thawdutht an'

shavingth, don't they, Mandy?"

"Oh, look at 'em! Look at 'em! Them's some er the _private_ school; don't they look _grand_ ridin' in Bill Tillson's grocery wagin?"

shouted Mandy.

"I wonder if that horthe would jump if I fired a thnowball?"

"Don't ye do it!" shouted the driver.

"Better not, Chub!" cried Mandy, thinking that perhaps the fun had gone far enough.

The fact that he had been told not to made Chub long to do it.

"Here's the place," said the driver, and, grasping one of the bags, he jumped from the team and ran into the house with the parcel. The reins lay loosely upon the horse's back.

Chub, who had kept pace with the team, now paused to choose the most interesting bit of mischief. Should he make a grab at the loose-lying reins, and by jerking them surprise the horse, or would he be more frisky if the half-dozen s...o...b..a.l.l.s which he had been making were all hurled at him at once?

Before he could decide, the boy came out of the house, and jumping into the pung, gathered up the reins, and attempted to turn the team towards home. Chub thought if he were to have any fun, he must get it quickly.

"_Heighoh_! You Jumpin' Ginger!" he shouted, at the same time letting fly the six s...o...b..a.l.l.s. The frightened nag reared, and turning sharply about, tipped the pung, completely emptying it of pa.s.sengers and freight.

"That'th a _thpill_! Girlth an' _onionth_! Girlth an' _onionth_!"

shouted Chub, but Mandy, who was older, knew quite enough to be frightened, that is, frightened for her own safety. If the little girls were hurt, would some one blame her or Chub? The driver had stopped the thoroughly terrified horse, the pung was not injured, so he thought he might see if the children were harmed.

Mandy had helped Arabella to her feet, and picked up her shawls, which had fallen off. She was more frightened than hurt, but her feelings were injured. Patricia, brus.h.i.+ng the snow from her cloak, spoke her thoughts very plainly.

"Chub's a perfectly horrid boy," she said, "and we _might_ have broken our necks."

"Ye _didn't_, though," said Mandy.

"And I shouldn't wonder if Ma had him put in the big lock-up," she said, "for scaring our horse, and tipping us out on the road. We may get _reumonia_ for being thrown into the snow."

"Ye can't 'rest Chub; he ain't nothin' but a big baby," said Mandy, "an' what's _reumonia_, anyway?"

Patricia would not reply. The driver helped them to pick up the cus.h.i.+ons, but the bag of onions, which he had forgotten to take to the big house, he left where they lay in the road. They were too widely scattered to be gathered up.

Chub found a huge one, and commenced to eat it as eagerly as if it had been a luscious bit of fruit.

"Thith ith _fine_," he said as he took a big bite from the onion.