Read Ebook: Railroad building and other stories by Pansy

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Ebook has 301 lines and 12818 words, and 7 pages

"And I did not touch it at all," added Jack.

"Did not mean to do it, Morris! Did not mean to do all that! And what is it, Jack, which you say you did not touch?"

"Why, the banjo!" answered Jack.

"The string breaked of itself, mamma," Morris explained, "and I was afraid to lift it back into the case. I thought Uncle Will would rather we wouldn't bother with it."

"But the banjo is the least part of the mischief, Morris, as you know very well. I never heard of such naughty, naughty boys in all my life." Morris was crying now, and Jack was kicking the side of the sofa very hard with the heels of his boots.

"Why did you go into the girls' room at all, Morris? You know they do not like it."

"I only wanted to show Jack the pigeons on the Jones's roof," sobbed Morris.

"And who was the one to take the bonnets out of the boxes?"

"Neither of us did that, Mrs. Bell," answered Jack.

"So neither of you did that, Jack, and I suppose neither of you burnt all those matches, nor upset the bottles, nor indeed did any of the other very naughty things!"

"No, mamma, we didn't," Morris answered stoutly. Mrs. Bell looked very much surprised.

"Boys," she said, "it is very, very wrong to tell a lie about it; yes, a lie!" for neither Jack or Morris would own up to any misbehaviour beyond the meddling with the banjo.

"You may go now, Jack," Mrs. Bell said at last, "but, remember: I must come in to-morrow and tell your mother, unless you come back before then and confess to your share of this mischief."

"I do not think I will ever come in this house again," said Jack indignantly, as he strode out of the room, with his rubber boots tucked under his arm, and the belt of his little ulster flying out behind him.

After a supper of bread and milk, with never a taste of cake or jam, Morris was put to bed a whole hour earlier than his bedtime. At first he thought he would lie awake all night; but he must have changed his mind about that, for he fell asleep in two minutes, and he found affairs in a much happier state when he woke.

It chanced the next morning that Morris's sister, Lou, stood braiding her hair in front of the window, instead of the looking-glass, so instead of seeing another blue-eyed Lou gazing back at her, she looked right through it, and saw--what do you think?--a live monkey sitting astride the fence in the yard below, and staring about. Lou ran to her mother's door.

"O mamma!" she cried. "Look out the back window, quick, quick!"

Mrs. Bell stepped to the window, and then ran straight into Morris's room.

"O Morris!" she cried. "Mamma knows now that her little boy didn't do it," waking him up from the soundest little nap.

"Didn't do what?" said Morris, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

"Why, all the mischief; a monkey did it, Morris, a monkey."

"A monkey?" cried Morris, for that was enough to wake him right up. Then Mrs. Bell bundled him up in an afghan and carried him to have a look at the sly fellow.

The monkey looked up at Morris and grinned, as much as to say, "Well, didn't I get you in a pretty fix?"

"I suppose he belongs to some one and has run away," said Lou. "I'll run down and open the door of the back porch, then perhaps he'll come in and we'll keep him."

"O no! Don't keep him," urged Morris, pathetically, "because mamma could never tell what things the monkey did, and what things Jack and me did, and it's very hard to have nuffing but bread and milk for your supper when you've only breaked a banjo string."

"Morris," said Mrs. Bell, "mamma will never doubt your word again. But Lou only means to keep him till we find his owner."

So they opened the door of the back porch, and after a while in walked Mr. Monkey. Then Bridget ran up from outside and shut him in. At first he jumped around as if he did not know what to make of it, but suddenly, spying the children's hammock, he swung himself into it and lay very still for a long time.

"Perhaps he's sleepy," said Morris, who stood watching him through the glass door.

"Of course he is," answered Lou. "I guess you'd be sleepy too, if you had been out all night."

Just then some one gave the bell a good strong pull. Morris ran and opened the door, and there stood a foreign-looking little gentleman.

"Can you tell me, my leetle fellow, if my monkey has been in this house?" he asked in broken English.

"O yes! He's been here, and he's here now," Morris replied, leading the way to the hammock.

"I hope he has not done much mischief," said the gentleman.

"O yes! He has," Morris answered frankly. "He did so much mischief they thought it must be me, and put me to bed very early, with only bread and milk for my supper."

They found the monkey fast asleep. His owner gave him two or three pokes with his cane, and he opened his round black eyes. He knew his master at once, and with the funniest grin, leaped on to his shoulder, fastening his hairy little paws tightly round his neck as though he never meant to let go.

"I will look to it that he runs away not soon again," said the gentleman as he left the house.

"Then you had better tie him up very tight, sir, with a very strong chain," advised Morris, closing the door with an honest little sigh of relief.

MABEL'S "INASMUCH."

NURSE HAMMOND was in a fidgety state of mind; it was an hour past the time when Miss Mabel should have returned from taking her music lesson. As it was a rare thing for Mabel to be otherwise than prompt, her old nurse was growing uneasy. Nurse Hammond had been in the Taylor family ever since Mabel, who was now a young lady of sixteen, was born. All through the years of babyhood and childhood the good woman had watched over her young charge, and now, when she had grown almost to womanhood, she still exercised the same tender, loving watchfulness.

Mabel Taylor's mother died before the child had learned to speak the sweet name of mother. And in all the years that followed, Mabel had only Nurse Hammond to go to for love and petting. Mr. Taylor was a kind father, but he was always at the office, and Mabel saw little of him. And besides, the loss of his wife had cast a shadow over his life which he had never been able to throw off.

At length the anxious woman could endure the anxiety no longer, and putting on her bonnet, and the soft white shawl which Mabel's own fingers had knitted for her, she started out to "see what had become of the child."

"What is the matter with my darling child?" asked the kind-hearted woman.

"O, Nursie!" exclaimed Mabel. "It is perfectly dreadful," and she burst into another flood of tears.

"What is it? What is the matter?"

"Oh! I have been down to papa's office, and he told me about it, and I can't stand it--I don't want her!"

"Can't stand what? Don't want who?" and Nurse Hammond sat down beside Mabel and tenderly stroked the fluffy brown hair. "Do tell me about it!"

"You'll say just as papa did, that I am very silly, and very selfish, but I can't help it. Papa got the letter this morning, and he will tell you about it to-night. Maybe he would think I ought not to speak of it until he tells you himself; but perhaps he won't mind, and oh! Maybe you will want to go away to your daughter's when she comes. Dear, dear! I wish she wasn't coming."

Nurse was distressed. What was the child talking about? Could it be--a suspicion flashed through her mind--could it be that Mr. Taylor was going to bring home a new wife? No; she could not think that, yet what did it mean? She waited, and presently Mabel sat up, saying:

"There! I'm done with fretting; but I don't like it at all. Oh! I haven't told you yet," and then she laughed hysterically. "Well, papa had a letter, this morning, from his brother, my uncle John, and he is coming next week to bring cousin Emma here to stay a long time, maybe always. He is going abroad for a business house in Chicago, and maybe he will remain abroad as the agent, and then she'll have to stay with us. Uncle John says he cannot bear to think of leaving her with strangers, and papa telegraphed a reply, and told him to bring her to us."

"Of course, Childie, what would he do?" asked Nurse Hammond.

"He might send her to a boarding school, I should think," replied Mabel.

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