The Adventures of Ann | Page 9

Her husband
had gone to Boston, and was not coming home till the next day, so she
had had a nice chance to work at them, without as much interruption as
usual.
Ann, going down the cellar-stairs, with a lighted candle, after some
butter for tea, spied the beautiful rolls swinging overhead. What
possessed her to, she could not herself have told--she certainly had no
wish to injure Mrs. Dorcas' wicks--but she pinched up a little end of the
fluffy flax and touched her candle to it. She thought she would see how
that little bit would burn off. She soon found out. The flame caught,
and ran like lightning through the whole bundle. There was a great puff
of fire and smoke, and poor Mrs. Dorcas' fine candle-wicks were gone.
Ann screamed, and sprang downstairs. She barely escaped the whole

blaze coming in her face.
"What's that!" shrieked Mrs. Dorcas, rushing to the cellar-door. Words
can not describe her feeling when she saw that her nice candle-wicks,
the fruit of her day's toil, were burnt up.
If ever there was a wretched culprit that night, Ann was. She had not
meant to do wrong, but that, maybe, made it worse for her in one way.
She had not even gratified malice to sustain her. Grandma blamed her,
almost as severely as Mrs. Dorcas. She said she didn't know what
would "become of a little gal, that was so keerless," and decreed that
she must stay at home from school and work on candle-wicks till Mrs.
Dorcas' loss was made good to her. Ann listened ruefully. She was
scared and sorry, but that did not seem to help matters any. She did not
want any supper, and she went to bed early and cried herself to sleep.
Somewhere about midnight, a strange sound woke her up. She called
out to Grandma in alarm. The same sound had awakened her. "Get up,
an' light a candle, child," said she; "I'm afeard the baby's sick."
Ann scarcely had the candle lighted, before the door opened, and Mrs.
Dorcas appeared in her nightdress--she was very pale, and trembling all
over. "Oh!" she gasped, "it's the baby. Thirsey's got the croup, an'
Atherton's away, and there ain't anybody to go for the doctor. O what
shall I do, what shall I do!" She fairly wrung her hands.
"Hev you tried the skunk's oil," asked Grandma eagerly, preparing to
get up.
"Yes, I have, I have! It's a good hour since she woke up, an' I've tried
everything. It hasn't done any good. I thought I wouldn't call you, if I
could help it, but she's worse--only hear her! An' Atherton's away! Oh!
what shall I do, what shall I do?"
"Don't take on so, Dorcas," said Grandma, tremulously, but cheeringly.
"I'll come right along, an'--why, child, what air you goin' to do?"
Ann had finished dressing herself, and now she was pinning a heavy

homespun blanket over her head, as if she were preparing to go out
doors.
"I'm going after the doctor for Thirsey," said Ann, her black eyes
flashing with determination.
"Oh, will you, will you!" cried Mrs. Dorcas, catching at this new help.
"Hush, Dorcas," said Grandma, sternly. "It's an awful storm out--jist
hear the wind blow! It ain't fit fur her to go. Her life's jist as precious as
Thirsey's."
Ann said nothing more, but she went into her own little room with the
same determined look in her eyes. There was a door leading from this
room into the kitchen. Ann slipped through it hastily, lit a lantern which
was hanging beside the kitchen chimney, and was outdoors in a minute.
The storm was one of sharp, driving sleet, which struck her face like so
many needles. The first blast, as she stepped outside the door, seemed
to almost force her back, but her heart did not fail her. The snow was
not so very deep, but it was hard walking. There was no pretense of a
path. The doctor lived half a mile away, and there was not a house in
the whole distance, save the Meeting House and schoolhouse. It was
very dark. Lucky it was that she had taken the lantern; she could not
have found her way without it.
On kept the little slender, erect figure, with the fierce determination in
its heart, through the snow and sleet, holding the blanket close over its
head, and swinging the feeble lantern bravely.
When she reached the doctor's house, he was gone. He had started for
the North Precinct early in the evening, his good wife said; he was
called down to Captain Isaac Lovejoy's, the house next the North
Precinct Meeting House. She'd been sitting up waiting for him, it was
such an awful storm, and such a