Little Folks Astray Part 16

They had been speaking in loud tones, and perhaps had been overheard; for two men, on the same seat, began to talk of the unusual number of robberies that had happened within a few days and to wonder "what we were coming to next." In consequence of this, Dotty pinned up her pocket. When they reached Brooklyn, she gave her left hand to Horace, in stepping off the boat, and walked up Fulton Street, with her right hand firmly grasping the skirt of her dress.

"Good for you, Dimple!" said Horace, in a low tone; "that's one way of letting people know you've got money. Look behind you! There's been a man following you for some time."

"Where? O, where?" cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; "I don't see a man anywhere near."

"And there isn't one to be seen," said Aunt Madge, laughing; "there's n.o.body following you but Horace himself. He had no right to frighten you so."

"Horace!" echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; "I don't call _him_ a man!

He's nothing but a small boy!"

"A small boy!" She had finished the business now.

"The hateful young monkey!" thought Horace. "I shouldn't care much if she did have her pocket picked."

If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well paid for it afterwards.

They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was handsomer than the one in Portland. Fly thought there were nice places to "hide ahind the little white houses," which frightened her brother so much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way. After strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect Park, they left the "city of churches," and entered a crowded car to go back to the ferry.

"Look out for _our_ money," whispered Prudy; "you know auntie says a car is the very place to lose it in."

"Yes; I'll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don't feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it."

"Wow, Horace, don't be cross; you know it isn't often I have so much money."

Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much as to say,--

"Don't mention private affairs in such a crowd."

Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb n.o.body would have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other people with their tongues.

When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,--

"Now I will take you through Dotty's hen-houses. What have we here? O, Christmas greens."

A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together into long strips, which she sold by the yard.

"We must adorn the house, children. I will buy some of this, if you will help carry it home."

"Load me down," said Horace; "I'll take a mile of it."

"Loaden me down, too; _I'll_ take it a mile," said Fly.

"Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie."

"Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy? Ah, you've learned the lesson young!"

"I like the star best," said Dotty; "why can't they make suns and moons, too!"

"Will you have a _hanker_, my pretty miss?" said the woman, dropping a courtesy.

"I never heard of a _hanker_; it looks some like a kettle-hook. Let's buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly's shoulder."

"It would look better for Fly to sit on the anchor," said Mrs. Allen, smiling. "It is droll enough to see such a big thing walking off with a little girl under it. Come, children, we have bought all we can carry."

"Thank you kindly, lady," said the evergreen woman, with another courtesy.

"I don't see why she need thank you kindly, auntie," said Dotty. "You wouldn't have bought her wreaths if you hadn't liked 'em."

They walked through a long s.p.a.ce lined with such nice things that the children's mouths watered--oranges, figs, grapes, pears, French chestnuts larger than oil-nuts, and, as if that were not enough, delicious-looking pies, cakes, cold ham, and doughnuts. On little charcoal stoves stood coffee-pots; and there was a great clattering of plates and cups and saucers, which men were washing in little pans, and wiping on rather dark towels.

"It strikes me I should enjoy going into one of those cuddy-holes and eating my dinner," said Horace. "I feel about starved."

"You have a right to be hungry. It is two o'clock. How would you like some oysters? In here is a large room, with tables; rather more comfortable than these 'cuddy-holes,' as you call them."

"Only not nice," said Prudy. "O, Horace, if you should go once to an oyster saloon in Boston, you'd see the difference!"

"The probability is, I've been in Boston saloons twice to your once, ma'am."

Which was correct. She had been once, and he twice.

CHAPTER XII.

"GRANNY."

Aunt Madge seated her four guests at a little table.

"Will you have oysters or scallops?"

"What are scallops?"

"They are a sort of fish; taste a little like oysters. They come out of those small sh.e.l.ls, such as you've seen pin-cushions made of."

The children thought they should prefer oysters; and after the stews were ordered, Mrs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of cake, pie, and fruit.

"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston, you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins."

"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any carpet to it?" whispered Dotty.

"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke volumes.

It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was because she did not like to eat pin-cushions.

"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about enough for one day--don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing Granny."

"Granny?"