Little Prudy's Sister Susy Part 11

"Ma'am?" said Betsey, appearing at the door, and turning up one ear, very much as if it were a dipper, in which she expected to catch the words which dropped from the lips of her mistress. "Betsey, have you attended to your sister--to my little child, I mean? Then go out and make some sa.s.safras cakes, and some eel-pie, and some squirrel-soup; and set the table in five minutes: do you hear?"

"Ma'am?" said the deaf servant; "what did you say about ginger-bread?"

Susy did not like her part of the game; but she played it as well as she could, and let Annie manage everything, because that was what pleased Annie.

"O, how stupid Betsey is!" said Mr. Piper, coming to the aid of his wife. "Mrs. Piper says eel-jumbles, and sa.s.safras-pie, and pound-cake; all made in five minutes!"

Here everybody laughed, and Prudy, suddenly remembering her part, sighed, and said,--

"O, my darlin' husband used to like jumble-pie! I've forgot to cry for ever so long!"

Susy began to set the table, and went into the nursery for some cake and cookies, which were kept in an old tin chest, on purpose for this play of housekeeping, which had now been carried on regularly every Wednesday and Sat.u.r.day afternoon, for some time.

Susy opened the cake-chest, and found nothing in it but a few dry cookies: the fruit-cake was all gone. Who could have eaten it? Not Flossy, for she had a singular dislike for raisins and currants, and never so much as tasted fruit-cake. Not Prudy, for the poor little thing had grown so lame by this time, that she was unable to bear her weight on her feet, much less to walk into the nursery. Dotty could not be the thief. Her baby-conscience was rather tough and elastic, and I suppose she would have felt no more scruples about nibbling nice things, than an unprincipled little mouse.

But, then Dotty couldn't reach the cake-chest; so she was certainly innocent.

Then Susy remembered in a moment that it was Annie: Annie had run into the house morning and night, and had often said, "I'm right hungry. I'm going to steal a piece of our cake!"

So it seemed that Annie had eaten it _all_. Susy ran back to Prudy's sitting-room, where her little guests were seated, and said, trying not to laugh,--

"Please, ma'am, I just made some eel-jumbles and things, and a dog came in and stole them."

"Very well, Betsey," said Mrs. Piper, serenely; "make some more."

"Yes, make some more," echoed Mr. Piper; and added, "chain up that dog."

"But real honest true," said Susy, "the fruit-cake _is_ all gone out of the chest. You ate it up, you know, Annie; but it's no matter: we'll cut up some cookies, or, may be, mother'll let us have some oyster-crackers."

"_I_ ate up the cake!" cried Annie; "It's no such a thing; I never touched it!" Her face flushed as she spoke.

"O, but you did," persisted Susy; "I suppose you've forgotten! You went to the cake-chest this morning, and last night, and yesterday noon, and ever so many more times."

Annie was too angry to speak.

"But it's just as well," added Susy, politely; "you could have it as well as not, and perfectly welcome!"

"What are you talking about?" cried Annie, indignantly; for she thought she saw a look of surprise and contempt on Flossy's face, and fancied that Flossy despised her because she had a weakness for fruit-cake.

"I wonder if you take me for a pig, Susy Parlin! I heard what your mother said about that cake! She said it was too dry for her company, but it was too rich for little girls, and we must only eat a _teeny_ speck at a time. I told my mamma, and she laughed, to think such mean dried-up cake was too rich for little girls!"

Susy felt her temper rising, but her desire to be polite did not desert her.

"It _was_ rich, nice cake, Annie; but mother said the slices had been cut a great while, and it was drying up. Let's not talk any more about it."

"O, but I _shall_ talk more about it," cried Annie, still more irritated; "you keep hinting that I tell wrong stories and steal cake; yes, you do! and then you ain't willing to let me speak!"

All this sounded like righteous indignation, but was only anger. Annie was entirely in the wrong, and knew it; therefore she lost her temper.

Susy had an unusual amount of self-control at this time, merely because she had the truth on her side. But her dignified composure only vexed Annie the more.

"I won't stay here to be imposed upon, and told that I'm a liar and a thief; so I won't! I'll go right home this very minute, and tell my mother just how you treat your company!"

And, in spite of all Susy could say, Annie threw on her hood and cloak, and flounced out of the room; forgetting, in her wrath, to take off Susy's red scarf, which was still festooned about her head.

"Well, I'm glad she's gone," said Flossy, coolly, as the door closed with a slam. "She's a bold thing, and my mother wouldn't like me to play with her, if she knew how she acts! She said 'victuals' for food, and that isn't _elegant_, mother says. What right had she to set up and say she'd be Mrs. Piper? So forward!"

After all, this was the grievous part of the whole to Flossy,--that she had to take an inferior part in the play.

"But I'm _sorry_ she's gone," said Susy, uneasily. "I don't like to have her go and tell that I wasn't polite."

"You _was_ polite," chimed in little Prudy, from the sofa; "a great deal politer'n she was! I wouldn't care, if I would be you, Susy. I don't wish Annie was dead, but I wish she was a duck a-sailin' on the water!"

The children went back to the game they had been playing before Annie came; but the interest was quite gone. Their quick-tempered little guest had been a "_kill-joy_" in spite of her name.

But the afternoon was not over yet. What happened next, I will tell you in another chapter.

CHAPTER IX.

MORAL COURAGE.

Annie Lovejoy had not been gone fifteen minutes, when there was a sharp ringing of Mrs. Parlin's doorbell, and a little boy gave Norah the red scarf of Susy's, and a note for Mrs. Parlin.

Norah suspected they both came from Mrs. Lovejoy, and she could see that lady from the opposite window, looking toward the house with a very defiant expression.

Mrs. Parlin opened the note with some surprise, for she had been engaged with visitors in the parlor, and did not know what had been going on up stairs.

Whatever Mrs. Lovejoy's other accomplishments might be, she could not write very elegantly. The ink was hardly dry, and the words were badly blotted, as well as incorrectly spelled.

"Mrs. Parlin.

"Madam: If my own _doughter_ is a _theif_ and a _lier_, I beg to be informed. She has no _knowlidg_ of the cake, _whitch_ was so _dryed_ up, a _begar woold_ not touch it. Will Miss Susan Parlin come over here, and take back her words?

"SERENA LOVEJOY."

Mrs. Parlin was at a loss to understand this, for she had quite forgotten the fact, that the children had any cake to use at their play of housekeeping. She supposed that Susy must have accused Annie of prying into the china-closet, where the cakes and jellies were kept. She sent for Susy at once.

"My daughter," said she, in her usual quiet tones, "did you ever have any reason to suppose that Annie Lovejoy went about meddling with our things, and peeping into the closets?"

"Why, no, mother," replied Susy, much surprised; "she never saw the closets, that I know of. Why, mother, what do you mean?"

"Never ate cake, did she, without leave?"

"O, now I know what you mean, mother! Yes'm, she ate some of that fruit-cake you gave us to play with; and when I told her of it, she got angry, and said she was going right home, and would tell her mother how I treated my company; but I don't see how you found that out!"