Dotty Dimple Out West Part 7

But his warning came a minute too late. Major Lazelle had caught Dotty, and she had thrown up both hands to clutch at his hair. She meant to give it one desperate pulling; she did not care if she hurt him a little; she even hoped he might cry out and beg her to stop.

But the oddest thing happened. If she had gone to bed at the usual time, and fallen asleep, then this would have been her dream. But no, she _supposed_ she was awake; and what now?

As she seizes two locks of Major Lazelle's hair, one in each hand, and pulled them both as if she meant to draw them out by the roots, out they came! Yes, entirely out! And more than that, all the rest of the man's hair came too! His head was left as smooth as an apple.

_You_ see at once how it was. He wore a wig, and just for play had slyly unfastened it, and allowed Miss Dotty to pull it off.

The perfect despair on her little face amused him vastly; but he did not smile; he looked very severe.

"See what you have done!" said he, rubbing his bald head as if it were just ready to bleed. "See what you have done to me, you cruel girl!"

Major Lazelle's entire head of hair lay at her feet as brown and wavy as ever it was. Dotty looked at it with horror. The idea of scalping a man!

For a whole minute she lost the power of speech. Then she gasped out,--

"O, dear! dear! dear! I didn't know your hair was so tender!"

The major had been crowding his handkerchief into his mouth; but at this he could no longer restrain himself, nor could Mr. Parlin help joining in the laugh.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE MAJOR'S JOKE. Page 78.]

The little girl was more bewildered than ever. She put her hand to her own head, to make sure it was safe, for it felt as airy as a dandelion top.

Then Major Lazelle explained to her in a few words what a wig is, and how it is fastened to the head. Dotty understood it all in a moment, but was too much chagrined to make any reply.

"I am several years younger than your papa, my dear; so you think it strange to see me bald; but I have had two dreadful fevers, and they have run away with every bit of my hair."

Dotty would not even look up to see Major Lazelle replace his wig. Her dignity had been wounded.

"Come, sit on my knee, p.u.s.s.y, and let me tell you some more about it."

"No, I thank you, sir," replied she, walking the floor with the air of an injured princess. "No, I thank you, sir."

"How, now, little one? You don't mean to be angry with me for a little joke?"

"No, I thank you."

And that was all Dotty would say. She was wise enough to know she was too angry to speak.

"Ah, ha! temper, I see!" thought Major Lazelle; "I did not suspect it from that quarter."

If the young gentleman had only known how hard the little girl was struggling just then to control herself, he would have liked her better than ever.

Her father chided her next morning for taking a joke so seriously. Dotty replied with a deep sigh,--

"Papa, that major 'sposes I'm only five years old! That's what Dollyphus s'posed! I don't like it, papa, when I can travel so well; and how'd _I_ know what a wig was, well; you and mamma never had any?"

But Dotty smiled as benevolently as she could when she met the major again. He was a little afraid of her, however. He did not enjoy playing with her as he had enjoyed it before. He now felt obliged to be on his guard, lest she should take offence.

The rest of her journey--though Dotty did not know it--was not quite so delightful as it might have been if she had only laughed with good humor when the lively major let her pull his hair out by the roots.

But the cars went "singing through the forest, and rattling over ridges," till it was time to part from the pleasant man with a wig. Then they went on, "shooting under arches, rambling over bridges," till Dotty and her papa had come to their journey's end. We will say it was the town of Quinn.

CHAPTER VI.

NEW FACES.

The Cliffords lived a little way out of town. Mr. Parlin took a carriage at the depot, and he and Dotty had a very pleasant drive to "Aunt 'Ria's."

The little girl was rather travel-stained. Her gloves were somewhat ragged at the tips, from her habit of twitching them so much; and they were also badly soiled with fruit and candy. Her hair was as smooth as hands could make it; but alas for the "style" hat which had left Portland in triumph! It had reached Indiana in disgrace. Its tipsy appearance was due to getting stepped on, and being caught in showers.

Dotty's neat travelling dress was defaced by six large grease spots.

Where they had come from Dotty could not conjecture, unless "that sick lady with a bottle had spilled some of her cod-oil on it out of a spoon."

The child had intended to astonish her relatives by her tidy array; but, after all her pains, she had arrived out West in a very sorry plight.

"Now, which side must I look for the house, papa?"

"At your right hand, my dear. The first thing you will see is the conservatory, and then a stone house."

"My right hand," thought Dotty; "that's east; but which is my right hand?"

She always knew after she had thought a moment. It was the one which did not have the "shapest thumb;" that is, the _misshapen_ one she had pounded once by mistake, instead of an oilnut.

"O, yes, papa! See the flowers! the flowers! And only to think they don't know who's coming! P'rhaps they're drinking tea, or gone visiting, or something."

The Cliffords were not at tea. Grace and Ca.s.sy were reading "Our Boys and Girls" in the summer-house, with their heads close together; Horace was in the woods fis.h.i.+ng; Mr. Clifford at his office; his wife in her chamber, ruffling a pink cambric frock for wee Katie, rocking as she sewed.

As for Katie, she was marching about the grounds under an old umbrella.

It was only the skeleton of an umbrella--dry bones, wires, and a crooked handle. Through the open sides the little one was plainly to be seen; and Mr. Parlin thought she looked like that flower we have in our gardens, which peeps out from a host of little tendrils, and is called the "lady in the bower."

Hearing a carriage coming, the "lady in the bower" rushed to the gate, flouris.h.i.+ng the black bones of the umbrella directly in the horse's face.

"Dotty has camed! She has camed!" shouted the little creature, dropping the umbrella, falling over it, springing up again, and running with flying feet to spread the news.

n.o.body believed Dotty had "camed;" it seemed an improbable story; but Grace and Ca.s.sy had heard the wheels, and they ran through the avenue into the house to make sure it was n.o.body but one of the neighbors.

"Why, indeed, and indeed, it _is_ Dotty; and if here isn't Uncle Edward too!" cried Grace, tossing back her curls, and dancing down the front steps. "Ma, ma, here is Uncle Edward Parlin!"

"I sawed um first! I sawed um first!" screamed little Flyaway, thrusting the point of the umbrella between Dotty's feet, and throwing her over.

"Can I believe my eyes!" said Mrs. Clifford's voice from the head of the stairs; and down she rushed, with open arms, to greet her guests.

Then there was so much kissing, and so much talking, that n.o.body exactly knew what anybody else said; and Katie added to the confusion by fluttering in and out, and every now and then breaking into a musical laugh, which the mocking-bird, not to be outdone, caught up and echoed.

It was a merry, merry meeting.