Five Happy Weeks | Page 2

have," said Johnnie, quite earnestly. "I'm bound to be a gentleman; and a gentleman is always polite to the ladies. I've seen that with father and mother many a time. So, Mabel, you take mamma her fruit;" and with that, Johnnie handed her the basket, and made a low bow.
Miss Simms seated herself in the window, took out her scissors and a great roll of patterns, and then said,
"Edith, dearie, will you ask your grandma or Aunt Catharine, if they know where the merino is for your new dresses?"
"Are we to have new dresses?" said Edith; "it's the first I've heard of it."
"Oh, children don't know everything in this house," said Miss Simms, laughing. Grandma came bustling in with bundles nearly as big as herself.
"You had better measure Edie first, as she is on the spot; and then I'll help sew on her skirt, while you are cutting out for Mabel."
"I'm glad I'm not a girl," said Johnnie, "always having to bother with new frocks."
"Mrs. Evans is wise to go South now," said Miss Simms to grandma. "I've been hoping she would, it's far too bleak for her here."
Edith opened her blue eyes very wide, and then they filled with tears. She hid her head in her grandma's bosom.
"Why, child, you little goose, it is to make your dear mother well. And you three small folks are going part way with her."
At this Edith's sudden tears dried up very quickly, and her face made itself into a question mark.
"You three children, and I myself, are going to see your Aunt Maria, in Virginia."
Johnnie began to turn somersaults to show his delight at the news. He ran off for further information, and came back saying, "I never heard anything so splendid in my life. We are to start a week from to-day Edith. Mamma's going South to get well, and we're going South too, to get acquainted with our Aunt Maria."
The children thought they must pack up their treasures at once; and as everybody was just then too busy to notice them very much, they made a remarkable collection. Edith brought out her Paris doll, and its wardrobe, her baby carriage hung with blue satin, and its pillows trimmed and ruffled with lace, her favorite books, and her best china tea-set.
"I could not travel in comfort without Miss Josephine," she said with much dignity, as she seated herself in the parlor, with her treasures around her. "I could not stir a step without her."
Mabel brought her Maltese kitten, and her Spitz dog, and tied a cherry ribbon round Fido's neck, and a blue one round Queenie's.
"Now I am ready to go!" she said.
As for Johnnie, he had so large a collection of must-haves, and can't-do-withouts, that he went to ask his father's advice. Mr. Evans came into the parlor, and laughed as he looked at his little girls, and their anxious faces.
"My dears," he said, "we are not to be off for a week yet, and when we start we cannot carry much baggage. The old Romans called baggage impedimenta, because it hindered them on their way; and that is just what it is, a hinderance. We must leave all our treasures at home."
"Even Queenie and Fido? They will break their hearts," said Mabel.
"Even Miss Josephine?" said Edith. "She will pale away and die without me!"
"If I could take my wheelbarrow and my box of tools, I would be satisfied," exclaimed Johnnie.
"Now, children," Mr. Evans explained, "you are going to see a good many new things; and if you leave your property at home, it will be safe, and will seem new and delightful when you get back. Fido and Queenie will go to Aunt Catharine's and pay a visit too."
"I don't believe the week will ever come to an end," sighed Edith, and she repeated the sigh a dozen times that busy week. But it did. Miss Simms cut and basted and fitted. Friends came to help. The furniture was covered. The house was securely fastened. At last they all went on board the Richmond steamer, on which they spent two very sea-sick nights and a day. After that it stopped at the Norfolk wharf. It lay there some hours, but before it started again, Aunt Maria came with a great roomy carriage, and took away the children. At the last moment grandma had decided not to go, so the brother and sisters felt rather forlorn when they went away with the strange auntie.
"Good-by, mamma!" cried three brave little voices, however, and three handkerchiefs were waved, as they saw mamma smiling back cheerfully to them from the deck of the "Old Dominion."
"In five weeks we'll see her again. It seems like for ever," said Edith to Johnnie.
"Five weeks," said Aunt Maria, "is a very short while, when people are having