Little Folks Astray Part 6

"No, Dotty, only foolish. That woman was handsome once, but her beauty is gone. She thinks she can make herself young again, and then people will admire her."

"O, but they won't; they'll only laugh."

"Very true, Dotty; but I dare say she never thought of that till this little child told her."

"Fly," said Horace, "You are doing a great deal of good going round hurting folks' feelings."

"Poor woman!" said Aunt Madge, with a pitying smile; "she might comfort herself by trying to make her soul beautiful."

"That would be altogether the best plan," said Horace, aside to Prudy; "she can't do much with her body, that's a fact; it's too dried up."

All this while they were pa.s.sing elegant shops, and Aunt Madge let the children pause as long as they liked before the windows, to admire the beautiful things.

"Whose little grampa is that?" cried Fly, pointing to a Santa Claus standing on the pavement and holding out his hands with a very pleasant smile; "he's all covered with a snow-storm."

"He isn't alive," said Dotty; "and the snow is only painted on his coat in little dots."

"Well, I didn't spect he was alive, Dotty Dimple, only but he made believe he was. And O, see that hossy! he's dead, too, but he looks as if you could ride on him."

"This other window is the handsomest, Fly; don't I wish I had some of those beautiful dripping, red ear-rings?"

"Why, little sister," said Prudy, "I'd as soon think of wanting a gold nose as those cat-tail ear-rings. What would Grandma Read say?"

"Why, she'd say 'thee' and 'thou,' I s'pose, and ask me if I called 'em the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits," said Dotty, with a slight curl of the lip. "Auntie, is it wicked to wear jewels, if your grandma's a Quaker?"

"I think not; that is, if somebody should give you a pair; but I hope somebody never will. It is a mere matter of taste, however. O, children, now I think of it, I'll give you each a little pin-money to spend, to-day, just as you like. A dollar each to Prudy and Dotty; and, Horace, here is fifty cents for Flyaway."

"O, you darling auntie!" cried the little Parlins, in a breath. Dotty shut this, the largest bill she had ever owned, into her red porte-monnaie, feeling sure she should never want for anything again that money can buy.

"There, now, Hollis," said Fly, drawing her mouth down and her eyebrows up, "where's my skipt? _my_ skipt?"

"What? A little snip like you mustn't have money," answered Horace, carelessly; "auntie gave it to me."

The moment he had spoken the words, he was sorry, for the child was too young and sensitive to be trifled with. She never doubted that her great cruel brother had robbed her. It was too much. Her "dove's eyes" shot fire. Flyaway could be terribly angry, and her anger was "as quick as a chain o' lightning." Before any one had time to think twice, she had turned on her little heel, and was running away. With one impulse the whole party turned and followed.

"Prudy and I haven't breath enough to run," said Aunt Madge. "Here we are at Stewart's. You'll find us in the rotunda, Horace. Come back here with Fly, as soon as you have caught her."

As soon as he had caught her!

They were on Broadway, which was lined with people, moving to and fro.

Horace and Dotty had to push their way through the crowd, while little Fly seemed to float like a creature of air.

"Stop, Fly! Stop, Fly!" cried Horace; but that only added speed to her wings.

"She's like a piece of thistle-down," laughed Horace; "when you get near her you blow her away."

"Stop, O, stop," cried Dotty; "Horace was only in fun. Don't run away from us, Fly."

But by this time the child was so far off that the words were lost in the din.

"Why, where is she? I don't see her," exclaimed Horace, as the little blue figure suddenly vanished, like a puff of smoke. "Did she cross the street?"

"I don't know, Horace. O, dear, I don't know."

It was the first time a fear had entered either of their minds. Knowing very little of the danger of large cities, they had not dreamed that the foolish little Fly might get caught in some dreadful spider's web.

CHAPTER V.

DOTTY HAVING HER OWN WAY.

Yes, Fly was out of sight; that was certain. Whether she had turned to the right, or to the left, or had merely gone straight on, fallen down, and been trampled on, that was the question. How was one to find out?

People enough to inquire of, but n.o.body to answer.

Horace had as many thoughts as a drowning man. How had he ever dared bring such a will-o'-the-wisp away from home? How had his mother consented to let him? His father had charged him, over and over, not to let go Fly's hand in the street. That did very well to talk about; but what could you do with a child that wasn't made of flesh and blood, but the very lightest kind of gas?

"Dotty, turn down this street, and I'll keep on up Broadway. No--no; you'd get lost. What shall we do? Go just where I do, as hard as you can run, and don't lose sight of me."

Dotty began to pant. She could not keep on at this rate of speed, and Horace saw it.

"You'll have to go back to Stewart's."

"Where's Stewart's?" gasped Dotty, still running.

"Why, that stone building on Tenth Street, with blue curtains, where we left auntie."

"I don't know anything about Tenth Street or blue curtains."

"But you'll know it when you get there. Just cross over--"

"O, Horace Clifford, I can't cross over! There's horses and carriages every minute; and my mother made me almost promise I wouldn't ever cross over."

"There are plenty of policemen, Dotty; they'll take you by the shoulder--"

"O, Horace Clifford, they shan't take me by the shoulder! S'pose I want 'em marching me off to the lockup?" screamed Dotty, who believed the lockup was the chief end and aim of policemen.

"Well, then, I don't know anything what to do with you," said Horace, in despair.

It seemed very hard that he should have the care of this willful little cousin, just when he wanted so much to be free to pursue Flyaway.

"If you won't go back to Stewart's, you won't. Will you go into this shop, then, and wait till I call for you?"

"You'll forget to call."

"I certainly won't forget."