Little Folks Astray | Page 4

it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the depths of her soul.
Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs. There was no such thing as her being comfortable. She was full of care about him, herself, and the baggage. Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which bounced over into the next seat. Horace had to ask a gentleman and his sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady's lap.
Then Fly's feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin.
"O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as lame all over as I do!"
"Where's the baby, Hollis? O, I see."
"What's the matter, now? Why upon earth can't you sit still, child?" said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head.
"O, Hollis, don't you see there's a dolly over there, with two girls and a lady with red clo'es on? 'Haps they'd be willing for her to get 'quainted with Flipperty?"
"Well, Topknot, 'haps they would, but 'haps I wouldn't. I can't have you dancing all over the car, in this style."
Flyaways's lip quivered, and a tear started. Horace was moved. One of Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop.
"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?"
Fly thought it would.
A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak.
"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so--so uneasy, that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take--I mean, are you willing--"
"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at him.
"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly in the seat.
"How do you do, little one? What is your name?--Flyaway?--Well, you look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you have a kind brother, I know."
At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose.
"There, you've knocked off my cap."
In stooping to pick it up, he awkwardly hit his head against the older girl, who already looked so mischievous that he was rather afraid of her.
"Wish I could get out of the way. She expects me to speak, but I shan't.
"'Needles and pins, needles and pins, When a man travels his trouble begins.'"
Horace was obliged to stand, very ill at ease, till the black-eyed lady had found out where he lived, who his father was, and what was his mother's name before she was married.
"Tell your father, when you go home, you have seen Mrs. Bonnycastle, formerly Ann Jones, and give him my regards. I knew he married a lady from Maine."
"I know sumpin," struck in Fly; "if ever I marry anybody, I'll marry my own brother Hollis. I mean if I don't be a ole maid!"
"And what is 'a ole maid,' you little witch?"
"I don' know; some folks is," was the wise reply. Flyaway was about to add "Gampa Clifford," but did not feel well enough acquainted to talk of family matters.
When the Bonnycastles left, at Cleveland, Horace thought that was the last of them. Miss Gerty was "decent-looking, looked some like Cassy Hallock; but he couldn't bear to see folks giggle; hoped he never should set eyes on those people again." Whether he ever did, you shall hear one of these days.
"O, Topknot," said he, "your hair looks like a mop. Do you want all creation laughing at you? You'll mortify me to death."
"You ought to water it. If you don't take better care o' your little sister, I won't never ride with you no more, Hollis Clifford!"
"Well, see that you don't,