The Wonderful Bed | Page 3

kept such
shabby things so long, but when I was a little girl I did not have such
beautiful toys as you have now, and the few I had I loved very dearly."
"Was this your nursery, Aunt Jane," Ann asked.
"Yes, dear. I slept all alone in the big bed, and I kept my toys always in
the old cupboard. I spent many and many an hour curled up on that
window-seat, playing with my doll. Yes, I did have others, Ann, but I
think I loved the corn-cob doll best of all, perhaps because she was the
least beautiful."
"Didn't you have any little boys to play with?" Rudolf asked. "Other
boys beside father and Uncle Jim, I mean."
"There was one little boy who came sometimes," Aunt Jane said. "He
lived in the nearest house to ours, though that was a mile away. Those
were his tin soldiers you saw in the box. He gave them to me to keep
for him when he went away to school, and thought himself too big to
play at soldiers any more."
"And when he came back from school, did he used to come and see
you?"

"Yes, he used to come every summer till he got big."
"And what did the little boy do when he got big, Aunt Jane?"
"When he got big," said Aunt Jane slowly, looking very hard into the
fire, "he went away to sea."
"O-ho!" cried Rudolf. "And when he came back what did he bring
you?"
"He never did come back," said Aunt Jane, and she bent her head low
over Peter's so that the children should not see how shiny wet her eyes
were. Ann and Rudolf did see, however, and politely forced back the
dozen questions trembling on the tips of their tongues about the
different ways there were of being lost at sea. Rudolf in particular
would have liked to know whether it was a hurricane or sharks or
pirates or a nice desert island that had been the end of that little boy,
and he was about to begin his questioning in a roundabout manner by
asking whether sea serpents had often been known to swallow ships
whole, when the door opened, and in came Betsy, Aunt Jane's old
servant. She had the lamp in one hand and the great brass warming-pan,
with which she always warmed the big bed, in the other.
Her arrival disturbed the pleasant group by the nursery fire, and
reminded Aunt Jane that it was the children's bedtime. She kissed them
good night, heard them say their prayers, and then went quickly away,
leaving Betsy to help them undress. Now this was rather unwise of
Aunt Jane, for Betsy and the children did not get on. She was one of
those uncomfortable persons who refuse to understand how a little
conversation makes undressing so much less unpleasant. She was not
inclined to give Rudolf any information on the subject of sea serpents,
nor would she listen to Ann's remarks on how much more fashionable
hot-water bottles were than warming-pans. She had even no sympathy
for Peter when he wished to be considered a diver going down to the
bottom of the sea after gold, instead of a little boy being bathed in a tin
tub.
Betsy had a horrid way of scrubbing, being none too careful about soap

in people's eyes, and Peter came out dreadfully clean. Feeling that he
needed comforting of some sort, he looked about for Mittens and
discovered him at last, taking a much needed nap behind the sofa.
Squeezing the weary cat carefully under one arm, Peter began to climb
by the aid of a chair into the big bed. Betsy caught sight of him and
guessed his plan. Poor little Peter's hopes were dashed.
"No you don't, Master Peter," she snapped at him. "Ye don't take no
cats to bed with ye--not in this house!" And she grabbed Mittens away
very roughly, set him outside the door, and shut it with a bang. After
she had tucked the bedclothes firmly about the little boy, she turned her
attention to Rudolf and Ann, evidently thinking Peter was settled for
the night--which shows just how much Betsy knew about him. Peter
waited patiently till she was in the depths of an argument with Rudolf
who was trying vainly to make her understand that the dirt upon his
face was merely the effect of his dark complexion. Then Peter slipped
out of bed, darted out of the door, and returned in a moment or two
with the unhappy Mittens once more a prisoner beneath his arm. This
time he managed to conceal the cat from Betsy's sharp eyes.
At last all three children were in the big bed, Rudolf having refused to
consider