Prudy Keeping House | Page 4

of burgalers, auntie?" asked Dotty. "Because, if you
are, we shan't dare stay here."
"No, Dotty. I only thought, if you should play keep house, it might be
rather amusing to come in here, and dress up in some of my old finery.

You are welcome to whatever you can find, for I have locked up all that
is worth much."
"O, you darling auntie, won't that be splendid? Now we shan't feel half
so sorry about your going away."
"Sorry!" said Mrs. Allen, with a mischievous smile. "You are so
delighted you don't know what to do."
"There, auntie, that isn't fair," laughed Prudy, "when we've been trying
our best to cry. But somehow, how can we, when Uncle Augustus isn't
very sick, and you're coming right back? But what made me laugh just
now, was looking at that ruffled pillow-case, and thinking what a
splendid cap it would make for an old lady, tied down with black
ribbon!"
"A pretty uproar we shall find when we get back, Miss Prudy; but I am
prepared for that. Only promise one thing--keep that baby in the house.
Flyaway, darling, will you remember not to go out of doors?"
"Yes, um, I'll 'member," replied Fly, winking her eyes solemnly. She
had expected, till the last minute, to go with her auntie.
"There is one thing I regret. If Mrs. Brooks and Maria come, they will
be very much disappointed. Tell them I'll try to attend to them the day
but one after Christmas. And now, good by, children. You know you're
as dear to me as the apple of my eye. Do take good care of yourselves,
and be good."
"The apple of your eye appears to be split in four quarters, auntie,"
remarked Horace; and on the strength of that joke, Mrs. Allen started
on her journey to Trenton.
"Now I suppose I'm to be the head of the family," said Prudy, with a
majestic air.
"We are the two heads, if you please, mum," said Horace, striking an
attitude.

"What am I, then?" asked Dotty.
"You? The foot. You must run and tend."
"H'm!"
"What am I?" asked Fly.
"Why, the little finger, pet. All you have to do is to curl up in one
corner."
"H'm!" responded Fly, looking at Dotty's solemn face, and trying to
draw her own down to exactly the same length.
"Pretty well, I should think," said Dotty, as soon as her injured feelings
would allow her to speak. "What have I done to be put down to the
bottom of the foot?"
"But you know, little sister, one woman has to manage a house; and I
am older than you."
"But you can't make a bit better gingerbread, Prudy Parlin! If I've got to
be your hired girl, I won't play."
"So I wouldn't," said Horace. "I'd show 'em what I thought of such
actions."
Upon this there was a little whirlwind, which spun Dotty out of the
room before you could count two.
"They stand very high in their own self-esteem. He's a hero, she a
hero-ess! They think I like to be laughed at. She said it only took one
woman to manage a house; but she never made any fuss when Horace
spoke up, and wanted to help. It's me that can't manage--just because
it's me. Who wants Horace for the head of the family? He don't know
more'n the head of a pin! When'd ever he make ginger-bread?"
By this time Dotty had reached her own room in a tumult of rage.

"Prudy wouldn't 'low three heads to it, I s'pose? O, no; for then I could
be one! If I was a great boy, with a silver watch, that wasn't her own
sister, she'd let me! Yes, if I had five heads, she wouldn't have said a
word."
Dotty paced the floor restlessly, with her hands behind her.
"I shan't go back. Let 'em keep their old house. I can keep house my
own self up in this room--wish I'd brought Fly--she's too good for 'em.
Wish I hadn't come to New York to be imposed upon."
As Dotty was crossing and recrossing the room, her eye fell on one of
the illuminated cards on the wall, printed in red and gold, and wreathed
with delicate lilies of the valley--"God resisteth the proud, but giveth
grace to the humble."
The angry child stopped short.
"Who put that there? What did auntie mean? She meant me. Everybody
means me. I wouldn't have thought that of auntie."
Dotty turned away; but the words followed her across the room like the
eyes of a portrait.
"'God resisteth the proud.' Well, who said I was proud? People are so
queer! Always think it's me wants the best things. 'Giveth grace to the
humble.' There, I