Young Lucretia | Page 7

know but I
may as well send her."
Mrs. Lennox was much smaller than her sister, and she had a rather
sickly but pleasant face. She had to push a chair before her as she
walked, for she had scalded her foot quite badly the week before, and it
was now all swathed in bandages. It had been a very unfortunate
accident in more ways than one, for Cynthia, her elder daughter, was
going to be married soon, and the family were busily engaged in the
wedding preparations. It was very hard for poor Mrs. Lennox to have to
limp about with one knee in a chair, while she made wedding-cake and
arranged for the bridal festivities, but she made the best of it.
Now she pushed over to the door, and called, "Fidelia! Fidelia!"
Directly the squeak increased to an agonizing degree, the rattle of small
wheels accompanied it, and Fidelia came trudging around the corner of
the house. She was a chubby little girl, and her blue tier seemed rather

tight for her. She had a round, rosy face, and innocent and honest black
eyes. She wore a small Shaker bonnet with a green cape, and she
stubbed her toes into the grass every step she took.
"Don't stub your toes so," said her mother, admonishingly. "You'll wear
your shoes all out."
Fidelia immediately advanced with soft pats like a kitten. When she got
into the kitchen her mother took off her Shaker bonnet and looked at
her critically. "You'll have to have your hair brushed," said she.
"Fidelia, do you remember how you went with mother down to Mis'
Rose's three or four weeks ago?"
Fidelia nodded and winked.
"There was a big pussy cat there, do you remember? and Mis' Rose
gave you a cooky."
Fidelia's affirmative wink seemed to give out sparkles.
"Well, you remember how we went to the side door and knocked--the
door with some roses over the top of it--and Mis' Rose came--the side
door?"
Fidelia, intensely attentive, standing before her mother and Aunt Maria,
remembered about the side door.
"Well, you remember how there was a piazza across the front of the
house, don't you? Father hitched the horse to a post there. Well, there's
another door there opening on the piazza, don't you remember--a door
with panes of glass in it like a window?"
Fidelia remembered.
"Well, now, Fidelia, do you suppose you can go down to the store and
buy some raisins for mother to put in sister Cynthy's weddin'-cake, all
yourself?"
"An' be a real smart little girl," put in Aunt Maria.

Fidelia gave one ecstatic roll of her black eyes at them, then she broke
into a shout, "Lemme go! lemme go!" She oscillated on her small
stubbed toes like a bird preparing to fly, and she tugged energetically at
her mother's apron.
"I'll give you a penny, an' you can buy you a nice stick of red-and-white
twisted candy," added her mother.
Fidelia actually made a little dash for the door then, but her mother
caught her. "Stop!" she said, in an admonitory voice which was
quieting to Fidelia, and made her realize that the red-and-white candy
was still in the future. "Now you just wait a minute, an' not be in such a
pucker. You ain't goin' this way, with your apron just as dirty as poison,
and your hair all in a snarl. You've got to have on your clean apron, and
have your hair brushed and your face washed."
So Fidelia climbed obediently into her high chair, and sat with her eyes
screwed up and her fists clinched, while her mother polished her face
faithfully with a wet, soapy end of a towel, and combed the snarls out
of her hair. When it was all done, her cheeks being very red and shiny,
and her hair very damp and smooth, when she was arrayed in her clean
starched white tier, and had her Shaker tied on with an emphatic square
bow, she stood in the door and drank in the parting instructions. Her
eyes were wide and intent, and her mouth drooped soberly at the
corners. The importance of the occasion had begun to impress her. She
held a penny tight in her hand; the raisins were to be charged, it not
being judged advisable to trust Fidelia with so much money.
"I don't believe that little thing can carry three pounds of raisins," Mrs.
Lennox said to Aunt Maria. She was becoming more and more uneasy
about Fidelia's going.
"Let her take her little wagon an' drag 'em; that'll be just the thing," said
Aunt Maria, complacently.
So Fidelia started down the road, trundling behind her the little
squeaking cart. It was a warm July day, and it was very dusty. Directly
Fidelia started