Aunt Madge's Story Part 15

"Yes, Totty-wax," said father, smiling, with a tear in the corner of his eye,--

"'Twas for my accommodation Nature rose when I was born."

"Has this child had any supper?" asked mother, in a faint voice from the bed.

"No, _she_ can't eat," laughed I; "her face looks like a roast apple."

"Your mother means you, Maggie. You are tired and excited," said cousin Lydia. "Ruth made cream-cakes to-night."

"But I shan't go, 'thout I can carry the baby. Ned's holding her. She isn't _his_ brother. I haven't had her in my arms once. How good G.o.d was! O, dear, what teenty hands! She can't swallow 'em, on 'count of her arms. Sent particular purpose for me--father said so. 'Ria Parlin, she's nowhere near your age. You have everything, but you can't have this. She gapes. She knows how to; she's found her mouth; she's found her mouth!"

And so I ran on and on, like a brook in a freshet, and might never have stopped, if they had not taken me out of the room, and tied me in a high chair before a table full of nice things. And Ruthie stood there with a smile in her eyes, and said if I spoke another word, I shouldn't see baby again that night.

I couldn't help pitying Ned. I wasn't sure I had treated him just right. I had prayed, off and on, as much as two or three weeks in all, that G.o.d would send me a sister, and of course that was why she had come. I didn't wish Ned to know this; he would be so sorry he hadn't thought of it himself, and prayed for a brother. I told Fel about it, and she didn't know whether it was quite fair or not. "Yes, it was, too," said I; for I never would allow Fel the last word. "It was fair; Ned's older 'n me, and ought to say his prayers a great deal more _reggurly_."

O, that wonderful new sister! For days I never tired of admiring her.

"Look, mamma! 'Ria, did you ever, ever see such blue eyes?"

And then I sat and talked to the new sister, and asked her

"Where did she get her eyes of blue?"

But she did not answer, as the baby does in the song,--

"Out of the sky, as I came through."

"What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?

Some of the starry spikes left in."

"Where did you get that pearly ear?

G.o.d spake, and it came out to hear."

Ah! If she could only have talked, wouldn't she have told some sweet stories about angels?

I couldn't have left her for anything else but that wedding; but Ruthie promised to take good care of her--and I could trust Ruthie!

Ned wasn't going; there were to be no children but Fel and me. Well, yes, Gust was there; but that was because he happened to be in the house. The wedding was in Madam Allen's parlors. _I_ stood up before the minister, with wax beads on my neck, and white slippers on my feet. Somebody else stood there, too; for one wouldn't have been enough. Fel dressed just like me--in white, with the same kind of beads; only she was pale, and I wasn't, and she looked like a white rosebud, and I didn't.

We stood between the "shovin' doors,"--that was what Gust called them,--and there was a bride and bridegroom, too. I nearly forgot that. I remember lights, and flowers, and wedding cake; and by and by Madam Allen came along, looking so grand in her white turban, and gave the bride a bridal rose, but not Fel or me a single bud. Then, when people kissed the bride, I kissed her, too, and she whispered,--

"Call me aunt Martha, dear."

"O, yes, Miss Rubie," said I; "you are my cousin, aunt Martha."

For I could not understand exactly.

Uncle John hugged me, and said they were all going away in the morning, he and aunt Martha, and Zed; and then I felt sorry, even with my wax beads on, and said to father,--

"I tell you what, I love my uncle John _that was_."

No, Fly, he didn't have any horse then called "Lighting Dodger;" but it was the same uncle John, and aunt Martha is the very woman who pets you so much, and has that pretty clock, with a pendulum in the shape of a little boy in a swing.

After that wedding there was a long winter. I went to school, but Fel didn't. She looked so white that I supposed her mother was afraid she would freeze. Miss Rubie was gone, and there were no lessons to learn; but Madam Allen didn't care for that; she said Fel was too sick to study. Whenever I didn't have to take care of the baby, I went to see her; but that baby needed a great deal of care! For the first month of her life I wanted to sit by her cradle, night and day, and not let any one else come near her. The next month I was willing Ned should have her half the time; and by the third month I cried because I had to take care of her at all.

CHAPTER XIII.

GOOD BY.

It happened that she was a cross baby. It did not take her long to forget all about heaven. She liked to pull hair, and she liked to scratch faces; and no matter how much you trotted her up and down, she just opened her toothless mouth and cried.

"She's a wicked, awful baby!" exclaimed I, scowling at her till my eyes ached.

"Div her a pill, _I_ would," said Ned, laughing. He could laugh, for he didn't have to sit and hold her, as I did.

"Poor little thing isn't well," said mother.

"I don't 'spect she knows whether's she's well or not," returned I, in disgust. "She just hates everybody, and that's what she's crying about."

"You grieve me, Madge. I thought you loved this dear sister."

"Well, I did; but I don't love her any more, and I don't ever want to rock a baby that hates me so hard she can't keep her mouth shut."

"You don't mean you are not glad G.o.d sent her? O, Madge!"

"Yes'm, that's what I mean. I'm real sorry he sent her, and I wish he'd take her back again."

Hasty, bitter speech! Even a child knows better than to talk so recklessly. Next day, and for many days, those words came back to my heart like sharp knives. Little sister was very ill, and I knew by the looks of people's faces that they thought she would cross the dark river, on the other side of which stand the pearly gates. Mother saw me roving about the house, crying in corners, and sent me away to the Allens to stay all night. When I got there, Madam Allen took me right up in her motherly arms, and tried to soothe me; but I refused to be comforted.

"I thought baby looked a little better this morning," said she.

I shook my head.

"Has baby grown any worse?"

"No'm."

"Then why do you shake your head?"