Peggy in Her Blue Frock | Page 7

Peggy's frocks."
But it was some time before Peggy began to wear them, for it took her mother a long time to make them. The very next afternoon, after the dinner dishes were washed, Mrs. Owen got out the blue material and she cut out a dress for Peggy, and then a small one for Belle. Alice was learning to hem and she took as careful stitches as a grown-up person. Peggy was divided between wanting to do what the others were doing and hating to be tied down. She made frequent trips to the kitchen for a drink of water and to see how Lady Jane was getting on.
"You can overcast these sleeves, Peggy," her mother said later in the afternoon. "That is much easier than hemming."
"It's better than hemming," Peggy said, "because you can take such long spidery stitches. But I just hate sewing. I'm never going to sew when I grow up."
"But that is just the time you'll have to sew," said Alice.
"No, I'm going to be a writing lady."
"But they have to wear just as many frocks as other people," said Alice.
"I'll have them made for me. I'll get such a lot of money by my writings."
"You may be married and have to make clothes for your children," said her mother.
"I'll just have boys," said Peggy. "That would be much the best. Then I could climb trees with them and climb over the roofs of houses, and nobody could say, 'Peggy, you'll break your neck,' because I'd be their mother, so everything I did would be all right."
"Oh, Peggy, you haven't been putting your mind on your work," said her mother. "Pull out those last few stitches and do them over again, and think what you are doing and not how you will climb trees with your sons."
"I'll have all girls," said Alice. "Some will be dressed in pink and some in blue."
"And some in red and some in yellow, and some in purple and some in green," added Peggy, "and you'll be called the rainbow family. There, mother, is that any better?"
"A little better, but you don't seem to make any two stitches quite the same length."
Peggy suddenly flung down her work. "There's somebody at the back door," she said.
"It's the grocer's boy. You can go and get the things, only be sure not to let the cat out."
Peggy never quite knew how it happened. She did not mean to disobey her mother, but the afternoon was very pleasant and the kitchen was hot. It seemed cruel to keep a cat in the house. She held the door open and, while she was debating whether it would not be possible for her and the cat to take a walk together, Lady Jane slipped out. Something gray and fluffy seemed to fly along the grass and disappear under the fence. She had gone without waiting for their pleasant walk together. Instead they would have a mad race. Peggy liked the idea of a chase. It was much more exciting than overcasting seams.
Peggy and the pussy-cat had a wild race, and more than one person looked back to see why Peggy Owen, with flying yellow hair, was running at such speed cross-lots, through back yards, and climbing over fences. Suddenly Peggy was caught, as she was scrambling over a fence, by a piece of barbed wire. Her one remaining winter school frock was torn past mending. "Oh, dear, what will mother say?" said Peggy.
The skirt was almost torn from the waist, and Peggy felt like a beggar-maid as she crept home. "Only, everybody will know I am not a beggar-maid," thought Peggy. "They'll all say, 'What mischief has Peggy Owen been up to now?'"
And her mother did say something very much like it when she came in. "Peggy, what have you been doing now?" she asked.
"I was hunting for Lady Jane," she said breathlessly. "She slipped out of the kitchen door."
"Peggy, how could you be so careless?" said her mother. Then, as she noticed the confusion on Peggy's face, she said, "Did you let her out?"
"Not exactly," said Peggy. "I was thinking perhaps it would be nice for us to have a walk together, when she ran away."
"You don't deserve to have any new clothes," said her mother, as she looked at Peggy's torn frock.
"The blue ones will be stronger than this old thing," said Peggy.
CHAPTER IV
PEGGY GOES FOR A YEAST-CAKE
"Dear me," said Mrs. Owen, one hot morning, a few days later, as she started to make bread, "this yeast-cake isn't fresh. What a shame! Peggy, you'll have to go down to the village and get me another."
Peggy was delighted at the chance for an errand. She never minded the heat, and she always liked to be out of doors better than in. It was Saturday morning so