Peggy Stewart, Navy Girl at Home | Page 7

in consternation. Such news was
overwhelming.
But Mammy Lucy had not lived on this estate for over sixty years

without storing up some wisdom for emergencies, and before Peggy
had finished the pitiful tale she was on her way to the great kitchen at
the opposite end of the inclosure where Aunt Cynthia ruled as dusky
goddess of the shining copper kettles and pans upon the wall.
"Sis Cynthy, we-all in trebbilation and we gotter holp dis hyer pore
chile. She lak fer ter breck her heart 'bout de Empress and she sho will
if dis hyer colt come ter harm. Please, ma'am, gimme a basin o' fresh,
warm milk. Bud he done gone down ter 'Napolis fer a nussin' bottle, but
dat baby yonder gwine faint an' die fo' dat no 'count nigger git back wid
dat bottle. I knows HIM, I does."
"Howyo' gwine mak' dat colt drink?" asked Cynthia skeptically.
"De Lawd on'y knows, but HE gwine show me how," was Mammy
Lucy's pious answer. The next second she cried "Praise Him! I got it,"
and ran into her cabin to return with a piece of snowy white flannel.
Meanwhile Cynthia had warmed the bowlful of milk. Hastily catching
up a huge oilcloth apron, Mammy enveloped herself in it and then
hurried back to Peggy and her charge.
From that moment Roy's artificial feeding began. Peggy raised his head
while Mammy opened his mouth by inserting a skilful finger where
later the bit would rest, then slipped in the milk-sopped woolen rag.
After a few minutes the small beastie which had never known fear,
understood and sucked away vigorously, for he had not fed for hours
and the poor inner- colt was grumbling sorely at the long fast. The
bowlful of milk soon disappeared, and he stood nozzling at Peggy
ready for a frolic, his woes forgotten.
"Now what yo' gwine do wid him, honey?" asked Mammy.
"I'd like to put him to sleep on the piazza, but I'm afraid I can't,"
answered Peggy, smiling sadly, for the loss of the Empress had struck
deeply.
"No, yo' suah cyant do dat," was Mammy's reply. "You'll be bleeged fer
ter put him yonder in de paddock."

"He will be so lonesome," said Peggy doubtfully. Just then the great
wolfhound came bounding up. She thrust her nose into her mistress'
hand and gave a low bark of delight. She was almost as tall as the colt,
and seemed to understand his needs. She then turned to give a greeting
lick upon the colt's nose. He jerked away, as though resenting the lady's
familiarity, but nickered softly. He had known Tzaritza from the first
moment he became aware of things terrestrial and they had often
gamboled together when the Empress was disinclined for a frolic.
Peggy's eyes brightened.
"Tzaritza, attention!"
The splendid hound raised her head to look into her young mistress'
eyes with keen intelligence.
"Come," and followed by the hound and colt Peggy hurried back to the
stables. They had brought the Empress down from the pasture and laid
her upon the soft turf of the large circular grass-plot in front of the main
building. The men were now digging her grave.
"Tzaritza, scent," commanded Peggy, stroking the Empress' neck.
The hound made long, deep sniffs at the still form.
"Come." Peggy then laid her hand upon the little colt's neck. The scent
was the same. Tzaritza understood.
"Guard," said Peggy.
"Woof-woof," answered Tzaritza deep down in her throat.
Peggy then led the way to the Empress' paddock. Roy capered through
the gate; Tzaritza, with her newly-assumed responsibility upon her,
entered with dignity. From that hour she scarcely left her charge, lying
beside him when he rested in the shade of the great beeches, nestling
close in the little stable at night, following him wherever he chose to go
during his liberty hours of the day, for thenceforth he was rarely
confined to the paddock.

Before the Empress was laid away Bud returned with the nursing bottle.
The rubber nipples were thrust into the Empress' mouth and thus
getting the mother scent all else was very simple. Roy tugged away at
his bottle like a well-conducted, well-conditioned baby, Tzaritza
watching with keen intelligent eyes. She soon knew the feeding hours
as well as Peggy or Mammy, and promptly to the minute led her charge
to Mammy's door. If Mammy happened to be elsewhere she sought
Cynthia, and so had the interest grown that there was not a man,
woman or child upon the place who would not have dropped anything
in order to minister to the needs of Tzaritza's charge.
And so passed the early springtide, Roy waxing fat and strong, Tzaritza
never relaxing her care, though at first it was a sore trial to her to
remain behind with her