Little Folks Astray | Page 5

you little scarecrow," said the suffering boy, out of all patience. "If you are going to act in New York as you have on the road, I wish I was well out of this scrape."
Flyaway was really a sight to behold. How she managed to tear her dress off the waist, and loose five boot buttons, and last, but not least, the very hat she wore on her head, would have been a mystery if you hadn't seen her run.
When they reached the city, Horace put the soft, flying locks in as good order as he could, and tied them up in his handkerchief.
"I wisht I hadn't come," whined Fly; "I don't want to wear a hangerfiss; 'tisn't speckerble!"
"Hush right up! I'm not going to have you get cold!--My sorrows! Shan't I be thankful when I get where there's a woman to take care of her?"
On the platform at the depot, aunt Madge, Prudy, and Dotty Dimple, were waiting for them. A hearty laugh went the rounds, which Fly thought was decidedly silly. Aunt Madge took the young travellers right into her arms, and hugged them in her own cordial style, as if her heart had been hungry for them for many a day.
"We're so glad!--for it did seem as if you'd never come," exclaimed Dotty Dimple.
"And I'd like to know," said Horace, "how you happened to get here first."
"O, we came by express--came yesterday."
"By 'spress?" cried Flyaway, pulling away from aunt Madge, who was trying to pin her frock together; "we came by a 'ductor.--Why, where's Flipperty's ticket?"
Horace seized Prudy with one hand, and Dotty Dimple with the other, turning them round and round.
"I don't see anything of the express mark, 'Handle with care.' What has become of it?"
"O, we were done up in brown paper," said Prudy, laughing, "and the express mark was on that; but aunt Madge took it off as soon as she got the packages home."
"Why, what a story, Prudy Parlin! We didn't have a speck of brown paper round us. Just cloaks and hats with feathers in!"
Dotty spoke with some irritation. She had all along been rather sensitive about being sent by express, and could not bear any allusion to the subject.
"There, that's Miss Dimple herself. Let me shake hands with your Dimpleship! Didn't come to New York to take a joke,--did you?"
"No, her Dimpleship came to New York to get warm," said Peacemaker Prudy; "and so did I, too. You don't know how cold it is in Maine."
By this time they were rattling over the stones in their aunt's elegant carriage. It was dusk; the lamps were lighted, the streets crowded with people, the shops blazing with gay colors.
"I didn't come here to get warm, either," said Dotty, determined to have the last word: "I was warm enough in Portland. I s'pose we've got a furnace,--haven't we?--and a coal grate, too."
"I do hope Horace hasnt't got her started in a contrary fit," thought Prudy; "I brought her all the way from home without her saying a cross word."
But aunt Madge had a witch's broom, to sweep cobwebs out of the sky. Putting her arm around Dotty, she said,--
"You all came to bring sunshine into my house; bless your happy hearts."
That cleared Dotty's sky, and she put up her lips for a kiss; while Flyaway, with her "hangerfiss" on, danced about the carriage like a fly in a bottle, kissing everybody, and Horace twice over.
"'Cause I spect we've got there. But, Hollis," said she, with the comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, "you never put the trunk in here. Now that 'ductor has gone and carried off my nightie."
CHAPTER III.
THE FROLIC.
If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, she would still have been lovely. A white rose is lovely even in a cracked tea-cup. But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife could afford to dress elegantly. Horace followed her to-night with admiring eyes.
"They say she isn't as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you needn't tell me! Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that's enough said."
Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty. Mrs. Allen's small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; you needn't tell him!
"Horace," said Aunt Madge, "your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays. You will be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves under your protection. Will you accept the charge?"
"He needn't pertect ME," spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an easy-chair; "I can pertect myself."
"Don't mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and