Brother and Sister Part 3

"Did you drink all your milk for breakfast?" asked Sister anxiously.

Ralph was most particular about the children's milk. He insisted that they couldn't grow properly without enough milk, and as both were anxious to grow tall, Brother and Sister usually drank their milk without fussing.

Brother had finished his to the last drop that morning, he said, and when they were called in to lunch presently, he drank another gla.s.s so that he would surely grow enough to please Ralph.

"And now we'll do up the fishpond presents," said Louise, when they had finished lunch.

She and Grace both helped, for Mother Morrison was busy in the kitchen with Molly, and of course none of the brothers were home during the day except Jimmie, and he was usually busy out in the barn where the gymnasium was.

You have probably "fished" in a fishpond yourself at parties, and know what it is. Little gifts are placed somewhere out of sight, and each small guest is given a fishing rod and line with a hook at the end. He dangles this over the back of a sofa, or over a table, and when he draws it up there is a "fish," or the present, attached to it.

Louise had plenty of nice white paper and pink string, and each gift was carefully wrapped and tied. Dark blue crepe paper was tacked around three sides of a table and this table placed across one corner of the parlor. This was the "ocean." The presents were placed on the floor back of the table, and Brother and Sister knew, from past pleasant experience, that when it came time to fish, the packages would obligingly attach themselves to the hooks.

"Tomorrow's ever so long off," sighed Brother, when the fishpond was ready and Louise and Grace had gone over to the library to take back some books.

He and Sister were not wanted in the kitchen and they were asked not to touch the clean white clothes spread out on the guest room bed for them to wear to the party. There really did not seem to be anything for them to do.

"Let's go out and watch for Ralph?" suggested Sister.

Ralph was the best loved brother, after all, though, of course, the children loved d.i.c.k and Jimmie dearly. But no one was quite as patient as Ralph, no one had time to read to them as often as he did, no one told them stories without coaxing as Ralph did.

He and d.i.c.k came up the street from the station together this night, and though d.i.c.k kissed Sister and said, "h.e.l.lo, kid," to Brother, he dashed into the house, while Ralph stayed to talk.

"Birthday tomorrow, Brother?" he asked teasingly, though he knew very well that Brother would be six years old.

"Oh, Ralph!" Brother was so excited he nearly stuttered. "Ralph, couldn't you tell me what the present is now? I'm just as tall, and it's almost my birthday. Please, Ralph?"

Ralph swung Sister up and sat her on the fence-post.

"Well, I don't believe I could do that," he replied slowly. "Let's see, did you drink your milk today without grumbling?"

"Yes, I did--didn't I, Sister?" said Brother eagerly.

"Yes," nodded Sister. "He drank all of his for lunch, too, Ralph, and didn't spill any."

"That's certainly fine," praised Ralph. "I'm sure you've grown a little bit every day, too. Well, Brother, I tell you what I'll do--tomorrow morning I'll bring the present up to your room before breakfast. How will that do?"

Brother was more excited than ever, and for once he was ready to go to bed that night without a protest. He and Sister trailed sleepily off upstairs, wishing for the morning to come so that they might know what this mysterious present was.

They had two little white beds in the same room and they could undress themselves very nicely if they helped each other with the b.u.t.tons.

Mother Morrison usually came up before they were ready for bed, and on bath nights she always came up with them and stayed till they were in bed.

The night before a birthday party was, of course, a bath night, and Sister was very willing to let Brother take his bath first because she had a picture book she wanted to look at. She was lying on her bed, in her nightie, looking at the pictures while Brother splashed in the tub and Mother Morrison waited for him to stop playing and use the soap to lather himself, instead of pretending it was a boat, when d.i.c.k knocked on the door.

"Look here!" he said, opening it and thrusting in his head. "Have either of you kids been in my room today?"

"How nice you are!" cried Sister, sitting up to look at d.i.c.k, who, indeed, did seem very nice, though he was without his coat.

"I'm twenty minutes late now," growled d.i.c.k. "I've hunted everywhere for my collar b.u.t.tons and studs, and I can't find them."

CHAPTER V

d.i.c.k'S b.u.t.tONS

Before Sister could say anything, in pranced Brother, very pink and clean from his hot bath and treading on his gray bathrobe at every other step.

"Have you been meddling with my things again?" demanded d.i.c.k. "Mother, I've an engagement at eight o'clock and it's quarter past now; every blessed collar b.u.t.ton is gone from my chiffonier!"

Mother Morrison, who had followed Brother into the room, looked anxiously at him.

"Brother, you haven't been in d.i.c.k's room today, have you?" she asked him.

Then Sister, whose memory had been waking up, spoke.

"Please, d.i.c.k," she said in a very little voice. "Please, I had the b.u.t.tons."

"Oh, you did!" d.i.c.k quite forgot to smile at her. "What did you want 'em for? Where are they now?"

"You see, I was playing jackstones with Nellie Yarrow, and afterward I--I left them in my pocket--" Sister's voice trailed off.

She recollected that the dress she had been wearing was now down the laundry chute.

"Mother, something's got to be done!" fumed d.i.c.k. "I can't have the kids going through my stuff and helping themselves to whatever they want; those b.u.t.tons were my solid gold ones and my good studs were in the same box. There's the telephone!--Nina will be furious! Sister, where did you say that dress was?"

d.i.c.k rushed downstairs to answer the telephone, leaving a sorrowful Sister curled up in a forlorn little heap on the bed.

"My blue dress is way down in the laundry," she wailed. "The b.u.t.tons are in the pocket. Oh, Mother, it's awful far down there, and it's dark on the stairs!"

"What's all the racket about?" inquired Ralph, coming to the door. "Is Sister crying? And d.i.c.k is trying to smooth down Nina Carson, who seems to be in a bad way. Want any help with these young ones, Mother?

Anyway, tell a fellow the cause of the excitement."

Sister smiled through her tears. "Young ones" was what Molly's country sister had once called them, and Ralph always said it when he meant to make her laugh.

"I really think Sister should go down and get the b.u.t.tons from her dress pocket," said dear Mother Morrison decidedly. "I have forbidden her, time and again, to touch anything in d.i.c.k's room. Take your kimona and slippers, Sister, and hurry; I'll have your bath ready for you when you come back."

More tears ran down Sister's round cheeks. Her eyes were so full of salt water she couldn't find the armholes of her pink kimona, and Ralph had to help her.

"I'll go with her, Mother," he offered. "I'll sit on the stairs and wait while she hunts for the b.u.t.tons; and after this you--will leave d.i.c.k's things alone, won't you, Sister?"

Sister promised joyfully, and paddled off downstairs with Ralph. The dark stairs that led to the laundry didn't frighten her one bit, and while Ralph sat on the last step and held the door open, Sister snapped on the light and found the blue dress on top of the basket that stood under the chute. Surely enough, the b.u.t.tons were in the pocket just as she had left them. She took the box and hurried back to Ralph. "Where's d.i.c.k going?" she asked him, as they went upstairs.

"Oh, out somewhere, to see some girl," replied Ralph, who seldom went to call on a girl. "Scoot now, Sister--I'm going out on the porch and read. You've made poor old d.i.c.k half an hour late as it is."

Ralph went out on the screened front porch, where Daddy Morrison was reading beside the electric lamp, and had just picked up his magazine, when there was a patter of little feet and Sister threw her arms around him breathlessly.