Copy-Cat Other Stories | Page 6

nicer manners, and we must be satisfied."
"You are prettier," said Amelia, with a look of worshipful admiration at
Lily's sweet little face.
"You are prettier," said Lily. Then she added, equivocally, "Even the
very homeliest girl is prettier than a boy."
Poor Amelia, it was a good deal for her to be called prettier than a very
dusty boy in a fight. She fairly dimpled with delight, and again she
smiled charm- ingly. Lily eyed her critically.
"You aren't so very homely, after all, Amelia," she said. "You needn't
think you are."
Amelia smiled again.
"When you look like you do now you are real pretty," said Lily, not
knowing or even suspecting the truth, that she was regarding in the face
of this little ardent soul her own, as in a mirror.
However, it was after that episode that Amelia Wheeler was called
"Copy-Cat." The two little girls entered Madame's select school arm in
arm, when the musical gong sounded, and behind them came Lee
Westminster and Johnny Trumbull, sur- reptitiously dusting their
garments, and ever after the fact of Amelia's adoration and imitation of
Lily Jennings was evident to all. Even Madame became aware of it, and
held conferences with two of the under teachers.
"It is not at all healthy for one child to model herself so entirely upon
the pattern of another," said Miss Parmalee.
"Most certainly it is not," agreed Miss Acton, the music-teacher.
"Why, that poor little Amelia Wheeler had the rudiments of a fairly

good contralto. I had begun to wonder if the poor child might not be
able at least to sing a little, and so make up for -- other things; and now
she tries to sing high like Lily Jen- nings, and I simply cannot prevent it.
She has heard Lily play, too, and has lost her own touch, and now it is
neither one thing nor the other."
"I might speak to her mother," said Madame, thoughtfully. Madame
was American born, but she married a French gentleman, long since
deceased, and his name sounded well on her circulars. She and her two
under teachers were drinking tea in her library.
Miss Parmalee, who was a true lover of her pupils, gasped at Madame's
proposition. "Whatever you do, please do not tell that poor child's
mother," said she.
"I do not think it would be quite wise, if I may venture to express an
opinion," said Miss Acton, who was a timid soul, and always inclined
to shy at her own ideas.
"But why?" asked Madame.
"Her mother," said Miss Parmalee, "is a quite remarkable woman, with
great strength of character, but she would utterly fail to grasp the
situation."
"I must confess," said Madame, sipping her tea, "that I fail to
understand it. Why any child not an absolute idiot should so lose her
own identity in an- other's absolutely bewilders me. I never heard of
such a case."
Miss Parmalee, who had a sense of humor, laughed a little. "It is
bewildering," she admitted. "And now the other children see how it is,
and call her 'Copy-Cat' to her face, but she does not mind. I doubt if she
understands, and neither does Lily, for that matter. Lily Jennings is full
of mischief, but she moves in straight lines; she is not conceited or
self-conscious, and she really likes Amelia, without knowing why."
"I fear Lily will lead Amelia into mischief," said Madame, "and Amelia
has always been such a good child."
"Lily will never MEAN to lead Amelia into mis- chief," said loyal Miss
Parmalee.
"But she will," said Madame.
"If Lily goes, I cannot answer for Amelia's not following," admitted
Miss Parmalee.
"I regret it all very much indeed," sighed Ma- dame, "but it does seem

to me still that Amelia's mother --"
"Amelia's mother would not even believe it, in the first place," said
Miss Parmalee.
"Well, there is something in that," admitted Ma- dame. "I myself could
not even imagine such a situation. I would not know of it now, if you
and Miss Acton had not told me."
"There is not the slightest use in telling Amelia not to imitate Lily,
because she does not know that she is imitating her," said Miss
Parmalee. "If she were to be punished for it, she could never compre-
hend the reason."
"That is true," said Miss Acton. "I realize that when the poor child
squeaks instead of singing. All I could think of this morning was a little
mouse caught in a trap which she could not see. She does actually
squeak! -- and some of her low notes, al- though, of course, she is only
a child, and has never attempted much, promised to be very good."
"She will have to squeak, for all I