Little Folks Astray Part 11

Maria put her hand on her side. Fast walking always tired her, for she was afraid every moment of falling.

They had to go down a flight of stairs to get into the house; and after they got there Fly looked around in dismay.

"I don't want to stay in the stable," she murmured. Indeed it was not half as nice as the place where her father kept his horse.

"But this is where we have to live," sighed Maria.

"Have things to eat?" asked the little stranger, in a solemn whisper.

There were a few chairs with broken backs, a few shelves with clean dishes, a few children with hungry faces. In one corner was a clumsy bedstead, and in a tidy bed lay a pale man.

"Who've you got there, Maria?" said he. "Bring her along, and stick her up on the bed."

"Don't be afraid," said Mrs. Brooks; "it's only pa; wouldn't the little girl like to talk to him? He's sick."

Flyaway was not at all afraid, for the man smiled pleasantly, and did not look as if he would hurt anybody. Mrs. Brooks set her on the bed, and Maria, afraid of losing her, held her by one foot. The children all crowded around to see the little lady in a silk bonnet holding a b.u.t.ton-hole bouquet to her bosom.

"Ain't she a ducky dilver!" said the oldest boy. "Pa'll be pleased, for he don't see things much. Has to keep abed all the time."

Mr. Brooks tried to smile, and Flyaway whispered to Maria, with sudden pity,--

"Sorry he's sick. Has he got to stay sick? Can't you find the camphor bottle?"

"O, father, she thinks if ycu had some camphor to smell of, 'twould cure you."

Then they all laughed, and Fly timidly offered the sick man her flowers.

"What, that pretty posy for me? Bless you, baby, they'll do me a sight more good than camfire!"

"There," said Maria, joyfully, "now pa is pleased; I know by the sound of his voice. Poor pa! only think, little girl, a stick of timber fell on him, and lamed him for life!"

"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag."

"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?"

"Katie Clifford."

"Where do you live?"

"I _have_ been borned in Nindiana."

Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the state.

"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean."

"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks.

"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?"

"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I CAMED DOWN WHEN I WAS A BABY."]

"That's what makes your hair so _goldy_," said Bennie. "Mother, did you ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too."

"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy."

"_I_ can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't mean me, mother."

Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss.

"Well, little Katie, after you were born in _Nindiana_, you came to New York. When did you come?"

"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis."

"Who's Hollis?"

"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut."

"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie."

"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a week.

"What's your auntie's name?"

"Aunt Madge."

"Is she married?"

"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together, just the same."

"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!"

"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was tired of these questions.

"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?"

"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks.

"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her hand into a ball)

"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at the description.

"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him."

"Is it possible!" said Mr. Brooks, looking very much pleased.

"Uncle 'Gustus has curly hair on his cheeks, on his mouf, all round.

_Not_ little p.r.i.c.kles, sticking out like needles."