The Twin Cousins | Page 3

of the house while her aunt was still speaking, followed by Milly.
"She thinks children are goosies, and hates to hear 'em talk," said she, the tears dripping over her apron.
"I'm drefful 'shamed; aren't you?" said little Milly.
"Yes, I 'spect we've done something orful," returned Flaxie.
You will observe that she said "we" this time, quite willing Milly should have a full share of the blame.
"I can't stan' it, Milly Allen, folks laughing at us so! Did you see Dodo laughing and laughing and laughing?"
"Yes, I did. She shook all over, and said children were fools."
"My mamma wouldn't 'low her to say that," sobbed Flaxie. "And nobody comin' to our party, either. Auntie Prim thinks they won't any of 'em come."
"Oh, yes, they will! their mammas said they might."
"Hope they won't!" said Flaxie, stamping her foot so hard that a "hop-toad" thought there was an earthquake, and hurried out of the way. "Hope they won't, any of 'em! I'm not agoin' to go to it myself,--so there!"
Milly peeped up in surprise.
"I hate it, Milly Allen; let's run away!"
"Why, Flaxie Frizzle!" was all Mabel could say, for the idea of a little girl's running away from her own party was truly amazing.
"You think I don't dare," said Flaxie; "but I do dare! I'm agoin' right off in the woods, and stay there! And I thought you's agoin' with me. You're my twin cousin, and it's your party as much as 'tis mine."
Milly knew this was very wrong, and ought to have said so to Flaxie. If they had already done one foolish thing, it would make it no better to do another foolish thing, as you can see in a moment. But Milly wanted to please Flaxie, so she said stoutly:
"Oh, yes, I'm going!"
Silly children! Flaxie pretended she was running away from her party, but she didn't mean to stay away. Oh, no! She wouldn't have missed the party for anything. Even now she was beginning to wonder what Dora was baking.
The woods were deep and high and dark. Before they had gone quarter of a mile Flaxie wanted to turn back, but waited for Milly to speak first.
"Oh dear!" cried Milly, trembling, for she had never been in such a place before. "You s'pose it's night, Flaxie? Has the sun set?"
"No, it hasn't. But we ought to brought a imbreller; it's goin' to rain," replied Flaxie, holding out her hand to catch a drop. "I didn't spect you'd be so 'fraid, Milly Allen; but if you are afraid, we'll go right home this minute."
They turned, but the wrong way, and instead of going home, only struck deeper into the woods. They didn't see the sky at all, and all the light seemed to come from the gay leaves and the gold of Flaxie's hair; for I am sorry to say she had lost her hat.
"Ha' pas' two; ha' pas' two," said she dreamily. "Let's go home to the party."
"Thought you hated the old party," said Milly, falling over a dead tree, and crying.
"Well, I was only in fun. Don't you know when I'm in fun, you goosie?"
You see they were both getting cross as well as hungry, for dinner-time was past long ago. In another hour they were half-starved.
"I spect we're lost," said Flaxie, calmly. "Going to rain, too; sun setting. Pretty near midnight--"
Upon this Milly began to scream.
"Well, then, what made you hide behind the lilac-bush, and not invite the folks, Milly Allen?" exclaimed Flaxie, feeling obliged to scold somebody; and then she too began to scream, though nobody heard, for they were three or four miles from the village.
They wound in and out, in and out, among the trees; but it was like a little bird putting his head through the bars of his cage. It did no good at all; they couldn't get out.
Thoroughly tired at last and discouraged, the poor babes in the wood lay down and fell asleep in each other's arms. I know it was a pretty sight,--the black head and the golden head so close together, and the beautiful bright trees bending over to say, "Good night."
CHAPTER II.
STAYING OUT TO TEA.
But before the robins had had time to cover them with leaves, or even to think of it, there was a shout from Preston Gray.
"Hurrah, boys, I've found 'em!"
He and half a dozen other lads had been out all the afternoon in search of the little wanderers, and here it was five o'clock. They carried them home on their backs, taking turns, and Flaxie looked up only once to ask sleepily:
"Is it ha' pas' two?"
"Won't she catch it, though?" said Bert Abbott, who was in great awe of Mrs. Prim.
But Mrs. Prim was a just woman, and she thought poor little Flaxie's punishment had been hard enough. Her party was over long ago; the guests