What Two Children Did Part 17

"Poor Miss Helen grieved and grieved over her, and offered great rewards, but to no avail. In about a year she went to Florida, and one day, going by a bird fancier's that she knew, the man invited her to come in, saying that he had a lot of new parrots to show her.

"O I wonder: if Polly is there!' she said, and told him about her.

"'No, I haven't any that know as much as that,' said he; 'but there is one who looks as if she understood things, but she won't, or can't, talk.'

"So Miss Helen went in, and there, sure enough, was her poor Polly huddled up sulkily in a cage.

"'Polly,' called Helen, and Polly started and came to the front of the cage.

"'Helen, Helen,' she called, going perfectly wild; '1013 H---- Street.

I'll be good! Yep! Yep! Yep!' and then she began to intone the service.

"The bird fancier was astonished enough.

"'I bought her and some six others from two sailors,' he said, 'but I never dreamed she could talk!'

"Miss Helen paid him a big price and went off with Polly on her finger chattering like one mad."

"O I'd love to see her," cried Beth.

"Well go over there some day. Here we are at home."

"I'm glad," said Ethelwyn. "It's nice to go away, but it's nicer to come back."

_CHAPTER XVIII_ _How They Bought a Baby_

Spend your money Speed you, honey, Quick as you can fly Up the street, Toys and sweet Money burns to buy.

And all this time they had saved their birthday money!

It was accidental, for they had in the mult.i.tude of other events and presents, forgotten they had it until one morning, in emptying their banks for "peanut" nickles, with a dexterity born of long practice, they discovered the two gold coins, for they each had been given one, of course, and they rushed off at once to show them.

"Haven't we saved this money, though?" they said, full of pride, and then they straightway sat down to make plans for spending it.

"Let's each buy a puppy for a parting gift to Bobby and Nan," suggested Ethelwyn, as she and Beth were soon going away to visit the Home.

"Yes, sir, let's," said Beth. "They dearly love Bose, and Mr. Smithers, our vegetable man, has six and will sell us two, I know."

Mr. Smithers said he would be charmed--or words to that effect--to sell them two Newfoundland puppies at five dollars each, and they struck a bargain at once.

It was easier to do because mother had gone to town on business and was to be away all day.

Mr. Smithers promised to bring them in that afternoon, and they went off to wait until then with what patience they could muster.

They met Joe on their way to the barn, and noticed that his usual ruddy countenance was grave and pale.

"My sister is sick," he explained, "and she's getting no better."

"Why don't you tell mother?" asked Ethelwyn.

"O it's everything your mother's done for us this summer, without bothering her more," he said. "I'm going to try to get my sister up in the country, but--I can't yet awhile."

"Will it cost very much, Joe?"

"No, not much, but there's so many of us to feed and clothe that we never have any money left for anything else."

"Mother will help, I know," said Ethelwyn, and they went up to the house, pondering deeply.

"Those horrid puppies! I wish we'd never heard of them," said Ethelwyn.

"Then we could give d.i.c.k the money. What did you think about them for?"

"You did yourself."

"No, I didn't. Anyway, let's watch for Mr. Smithers at the back garden gate, and tell him not to bring them."

So they went down through the garden, and, looking over the gate, they saw a very sulky little colored girl carrying a long limp bundle of yellow calico, with a round woolly head protruding at the top.

"O that cunning baby I Where'd you get him?" they cried both at once, opening the gate to look at him.

The sulky nurse s.h.i.+fted the bundle to her other shoulder.

"Allus had him, mos'," she said; "him or 'nuther one, perzactly like him, to lug roun' while ma's was.h.i.+n'."

"Don't you like to play with him?" asked Ethelwyn in a shocked tone.

"No, I don't," was the emphatic reply; "nor you wouldn't needa, ef you had it to do contin'ul."

"Why, you can play he's a doll."

"He's showin' off now, but when he gits to bawlin', you ain't a gwine to make no mistake 'bout his bein' nuffin' 'tal but a cry-baby," she continued, preparing to move on.

"Would you sell him?" asked Beth eagerly.

"Yessum, I sholy would," said his sister with a gleam of interest; "we ain't a gwine to miss him, wid six mo'! I'll sell him easy fo' a dolla'."

There was a hurried consultation between Beth and Ethelwyn.

"It's cheaper, and would leave nine dollars for Joe. Bobby could keep him one day, and Nan the next, or we could get something else for one of them. I think Nan would like him the best."

"We will buy him," said Ethelwyn, at the end of the consultation.

There was a moment of hesitation, and then the yellow bundle went into Ethelwyn's outstretched arms.

Beth went off to get the money. She ran breathlessly down the street to get the change, she was so afraid the girl would change her mind and take back the baby.