Mary-'Gusta Part 14

"It was terrible."

Isaiah laughed. "I should think 'twould be," he declared. "Sneezin'

backwards! Ho, ho! That's a good one!"

Mary-'Gusta's eyes were still fixed upon the ap.r.o.n.

"Mr.--I mean Cap'n Gould said you was the cook and steward," she observed. "I don't know as I know what a steward is, exactly. Is it the one that stews things?"

"Ha, ha!" roared Isaiah. Mary-'Gusta's dignity was hurt. The color rose in her cheeks.

"Was it funny?" she asked. "I didn't know. I know that a cook cooked things, and a baker baked things, so I thought maybe a steward stewed 'em."

Mr. Chase continued to chuckle. The girl considered.

"I see," she said, with a solemn nod. "It was funny, I guess. I remember now that a friar doesn't fry things. He is a--a kind of minister. Friar Tuck was one in 'Robin Hood,' you know. Mrs. Bailey read about him to me. Do you like 'Robin Hood,' Mr. Chase?"

Isaiah said he didn't cal'late that he knew anybody of that name. The dialogue was interrupted here by the arrival of Zoeth and, a moment later, Captain Shadrach. Breakfast was put upon the table in the dining-room and the quartette sat down to eat.

Mary-'Gusta was quiet during the meal; she answered when spoken to but the only questions she asked were concerning David.

"He's all right," said Captain Shad. "Lively as can be. He'll have a good time out in that barn; there's considerable many mice out there.

Likes mice, don't he?"

"Yes, sir. He's a good mouser. Did he look as if he missed me?"

"Eh? Well, I didn't notice. He never mentioned it if he did. You can go see him after breakfast. What do you think she can find to do today, Zoeth?"

Mr. Hamilton had evidently considered the problem.

"I thought maybe she'd like to go up to the store 'long of you and me,"

he suggested. "Would you, Mary'Gusta?"

Mary-'Gusta hesitated. "I'd like to very much," she said, "only--"

"Only what?"

"Only I've got to see to David and the dolls first. Couldn't I come up to the store afterwards?"

The Captain answered. "Why, I guess likely you could," he said. "It's straight up the road to the corner. You can see the store from the top of the hill back here. Isaiah'll show you the way. But you can 'tend to--what's that cat's name?--Oh, yes, David--you can 'tend to David right off. Isaiah'll give the critter his breakfast, and the dolls can wait 'til noontime, can't they?"

Mary-'Gusta's mind was evidently divided between inclination and duty.

Duty won.

"They ain't dressed yet," she said, gravely. "And besides they might think I'd gone off and left 'em and be frightened. This is a strange place to them, same as it is to me and David, you know. None of us have ever been visitin' before."

So it was decided that she should wait until her family had been given parental attention, and come to the store by herself. The partners left for their place of business and she and Mr. Chase remained at the house.

Her first act, after leaving the table, was to go to the barn and return bearing the cat in her arms. David ate a hearty breakfast and then, after enduring a motherly lecture concerning prudence and the danger of getting lost, was permitted to go out of doors.

Mary-'Gusta, standing in the doorway, gazed after her pet.

"I hope there's no dogs around here," she said. "It would be dreadful if there was a dog."

Isaiah tried to rea.s.sure her. "Oh, I cal'late there ain't no dog nigh enough to do any harm," he said; "besides, most cats can run fast enough to get out of the way."

The child shook her head. "I didn't mean that," she said. "I meant it would be dreadful for the dog. David doesn't have a mite of patience with dogs. He doesn't wait to see if they're nice ones or not, he just goes for 'em and then--Oh! He most always goes for 'em. When he has kittens he ALWAYS does."

Mr. Chase's reply to this illuminating disclosure was that he wanted to know.

"Yes," said Mary-'Gusta, "David doesn't take to dogs, some way. Why don't cats like dogs, Mr. Chase?"

Isaiah said that he cal'lated 'twas the nature of the critters not to.

Mary-'Gusta agreed with him.

"Natures are queer things, ain't they?" she said, solemnly. "I guess everybody has a nature, cats and all. Mrs. Hobbs says my nature is a contrary one. What's your kind, Mr. Chase?

"Do you suppose," she said, a few moments later, when the cook and steward had shown symptoms of doing something beside lean against the sink and whistle, "do you suppose you could get along for a few minutes while I went up and dressed my dolls?"

Isaiah turned to stare at her.

"Well," he stammered, "I--I cal'late maybe I could if I tried hard.

If you don't beat anything ever I see! What are you doin' with that pitcher?"

The girl was holding the wash pitcher under the pump.

"I'm fillin' it," she answered. "Then you won't have to have it on your mind any more. I'll hurry back just as fast as I can."

She hastened out, bearing the br.i.m.m.i.n.g pitcher with both hands. Isaiah gazed after her, muttering a word or two, and then set about clearing the breakfast table.

She was down again shortly, the two favorites, Rose and Rosette, in her arms. She placed them carefully in the kitchen chair and bade them be nice girls and watch mother do the dishes.

"I left the others in the bedroom," she explained. "Minnehaha ain't very well this mornin'. I guess the excitement was too much for her. She is a very nervous child."

Isaiah's evident amus.e.m.e.nt caused her to make one of her odd changes from childish make-believe to grown-up practicability.

"Of course," she added, with gravity, "I know she ain't really nervous.

She's just full of sawdust, same as all dolls are, and she couldn't have any nerves. But I like to play she's nervous and delicate. It's real handy to say that when I don't want to take her with me. I'm a nervous, excitable child myself; Mrs. Hobbs says so. That's why I've hardly ever been anywhere before, I guess."

She insisted upon wiping the dishes while Isaiah washed them. Also, she reminded him that the tablecloth which had been so severely criticized the previous evening had not as yet been changed. The steward was inclined to treat the matter lightly.

"Never mind if 'tain't," he said. "It's good enough for a spell longer.

Let it stay. Besides," he added, "the was.h.i.+n' ain't been done this week and there ain't another clean one aboard."

Mary-'Gusta smiled cheerfully.

"Oh, yes, there is," she said. "There's a real nice one in the bottom drawer of the closet. I've been huntin' and I found it. Come and see."

She led him into the dining-room and showed him the cloth she had found.

"It's a real pretty one, I think," she said. "Shall we put it on, Mr.