Holiday Stories for Young People | Page 3

with one
long and broad street running through the centre of the village, and
houses standing far apart from each other, and well back from the
pavement in the middle of the green lawns, swept into shadow by grand
old trees. The Bloomdale people are proud of the town, and keep the
gardens beautiful with flowers and free from weeds. Life in Bloomdale
would be perfectly delightful, all the grown-up people say, if it were
not for the everlasting trouble about servants, who are forever changing
their places and going away, and complaining that the town is dull, and
their church too distant, and life inconvenient; and so every one envies

my mother, who has kept Hetty all these years, and never had any
trouble at all.
At least I fancied that to be so, till I was a housekeeper myself, and
found out that Aunt Hetty had spells of temper and must be humored,
and was not perfect, any more than other people vastly above her in
station and beyond her in advantages.
I stopped for Linda Curtis, and she jumped into the phaeton and went
with me. We asked Jeanie Cartwright, Veva Fay, Lois Partridge, Amy
Pierce and Marjorie Downing to tea the next day, and every girl of
them promised to come bright and early.
When I reached home I ran to grandmamma to ask her if I had done
right, and to get her advice about what I would better have for my bill
of fare.
"Thee is too precipitate, dear child," said grandmamma. "Why not have
waited two or three days before having a company tea? I fear much that
Hetty will be contrary, and not help as she ought. And I have one of my
headaches coming."
"Oh, grandmamma!" I exclaimed. "Have you taken your pills?" I was
aghast.
"Thee needn't worry, dear," replied grandmamma, quite unruffled. "I
have taken them, and if the headache does not vanish before dark, I'll
sleep in the south chamber to-night, and be out of the way of the stir
to-morrow. I wish, though, Aunt Hetty were not in a cross fit."
"It is shameful," I said. "Aunt Hetty has been here so long that she does
not know her place. I shall not be disturbed by her moods."
So, holding my head high, I put on my most dignified manner and went
to the kitchen. Aunt Hetty, in a blue gingham gown, with a gay kerchief
tied on her head, was slowly and pensively rocking herself back and
forth in her low chair. She took no notice of me whatever.

"Aunt Hetty!"
No answer.
"Aunt Hetty!" This time I spoke louder.
Still she rocked back and forth, apparently as deaf as a post. I grew
desperate, and, going up to her, put my hand on her shoulder, saying:
"Aunt Hetty, aren't we to have our dinner? The fire seems to be out."
She shook off my hand and slowly rose, looking glum and preoccupied.
"Didn't hear no orders for dinner, Miss Alice."
"Now, Aunt Hetty," I remonstrated, "why will you be so horrid? You
know I am the housekeeper when mother is away, and you're going to
spoil everything, and make her wish she hadn't gone. How can I
manage if you won't help? Come, be good," I pleaded.
But nothing moved her from her stony indifference, and I went back to
grandmamma in despair. I was about to pour all my woes in her ear, but
a glance at her pale face restrained me.
She was going to have a regular Van Doren headache.
"We never have headaches like other people."
How many times I have heard my aunts and uncles say this in just these
words! They do not think me half a Van Doren because, owing to my
mother's way of bringing me up, I have escaped the family infliction. In
fact, I am half a Neilson, and the Neilsons are a healthy everyday set,
who do not have aches and pains, and are seldom troubled with nerves.
Plebeian, perhaps, but very comfortable.
I rushed back to the den of Aunt Hetty, as I now styled the kitchen. She
was pacing back and forth like a lioness in a cage at a show, singing an
old plantation melody. That was a sign that her fit of temper was worse
than ever. Little I cared.

"Hetty Van Doren," I said, "stop sulking and singing! There isn't time
for either. Poor grandmamma has a fearful headache, and you and I will
have to take care of her. Put some water on to boil, and then come up to
her room and help me. And don't sing 'Go down, Moses,' another
minute."
I had used two arguments which were powerful with Aunt Hetty. One
was calling her Hetty Van Doren.