The Twin Cousins Part 5

His mother shook her head at him.

"I think Flaxie and I will take a ride in the cars to-morrow," said she.

"I think we'll go to Chicopee to see Mrs. Adams, who has some gold-fishes, and a parrot, and a canary. How would you like that, Flaxie?"

"Wouldn't like it a tall, 'cause _she_ isn't my mamma," sobbed the poor little girl. "And we couldn't go to-morrow, 'cause to-morrow is Sunday."

"Sunday? First _I_ ever heard of it," said Freddy. "To-day is Friday, I suppose you know?"

"Oh, Freddy, Freddy, I can't bear that. It's Sat.u.r.day," said Flaxie.

As she spoke, the tears poured down her cheeks in little streams, and she squeezed her eyelids together so tight that Freddy laughed, for he thought the day of the week was a funny thing to cry about.

"To-day isn't Sat.u.r.day," said he. "If 'tis, what did I go to school for?

Tell me that."

"Oh, it _is_ Sat.u.r.day, Freddy Allen! Don't I know what day I came here?

I came Friday. Didn't I hear Ninny and mamma talk about it, and don't I _know_?" screamed the wretched child, hopping up and down, then falling, face downward, on the rug. "Oh, I can't bear it; I _can't_ bear it!

There, don't anybody in this town know what day it is! n.o.body knows it but me!"

This was funny enough to Freddy, but very painful to his mother, who knew the deep trouble at the little girl's heart. Of course Flaxie didn't care a bit what day of the week it was; she only felt so very unhappy that she could not endure the slightest contradiction.

Before another word had been spoken, she sprang up and flew out of the room. About two minutes afterward the front door slammed, and Freddy saw her dashing down street with her hat and cloak on, swinging her valise in one hand and her umbrella in the other.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FLAXIE LOOKED BEWILDERED. Page 60.]

CHAPTER IV.

LUCY'S MITTENS.

Aunt Charlotte ran to the door with the baby, calling out:

"Flaxie, come back! come back!"

But the little runaway would not even turn her head.

"Crazy," said Freddy, still laughing.

"I do believe," exclaimed his mother, "that child is going to the depot!

Run after her! You and Johnny both run!"

The boys did their best, but Flaxie was already far ahead, and never once paused till she reached the station, where she nearly ran the baggage-master through the body with her little umbrella.

"Now look here, my little lady," said he, catching her in his arms, "I ain't used to being punched in this style, like a pa.s.senger-ticket; and you'd better stop to explain."

"Oh, don't hold me, don't hold me! I'm going on the cars to my mamma.

_Let_ me go to my mamma!"

"Why, certainly," said the man, winking to Johnny and Freddy, who had reached the platform and stood there panting. "_To_ be sure! We let little girls go to their mothers. But you didn't think of starting on ahead of the cars, did you?"

Flaxie looked bewildered.

"You see the cars haven't come," said Johnny, coaxingly. "You'd better go back with Freddy and me, and wait awhile."

"No, no, no," said Flaxie, brandishing her umbrella. The boys were too anxious to get her away, and she wouldn't trust them.

"The cars won't be here till two o'clock," said the baggage-man. "Now I'd advise a nice little lady like you to eat your dinner before starting on a journey. Or would you like it any better to have me lock you up in the ladies'-room till two o'clock? But I should think you'd get rather hungry."

He held up a big key as he spoke, and Flaxie gazed at it in dismay. Was this the way they treated little girls that wanted to go to see their mothers?

"Come, Freddy," said Johnny, "let's hurry home, or there won't be any apple-dumpling left. If Flaxie doesn't want to come she needn't, you know."

Johnny spoke with such a show of indifference that Flaxie was struck by it. He was ten years old, just the age of her brother Preston, and had had some experience in managing children younger than himself. As he was walking off with Freddy, she trudged after, exclaiming:

"Well, will you lemme leave my umberella? Will you lemme come back again? Will you, Johnny?"

"We'll see what mother says. What makes you come home with us? Why don't you stay with the man and be locked up?" replied Master Johnny. But he had her fast by the hand, and led her home in triumph.

"What did make you try to run away?" asked Freddy, when they were safely in the house.

Flaxie felt rather ashamed by that time, for Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Ben were both looking at her.

"I read about a little girl that did it," said she, dropping her eyes.

"Well, I'll read to you about a little girl that didn't do it."

"Hush, Freddy," said mamma, for Flaxie's lips were quivering, "we'll have our dinner now, and then I am going to Chicopee to see Mrs. Adams, who has the gold-fishes and parrot and canary. Flaxie may go with me if she likes."

Flaxie brightened a little at this, and thought she wouldn't go home to see her mother to-day; she would wait till to-morrow. Still her heart ached now and then just as hard as ever, and when she was riding in the cars that afternoon to Chicopee with her aunt beside her and her second-best dolly in her arms, she did look the picture of woe.

"Toothache, perhaps," thought a woman who entered the car with a baby and two little girls. One of the girls limped along, scowling as if every step hurt her.

"How do you do, Mrs. Chase?" said Aunt Charlotte, making room for the mother and baby by taking Flaxie in her lap; then turning over the seat just in front of them for the two little girls. "I think it will be a good thing for my niece, Flaxie Frizzle, to see your children, Mrs.

Chase."

Flaxie wondered why it should be a good thing; still she was glad the little girls had come, for she liked to look at them.

Hattie was a bright child of six, just her own age; but the lame girl of ten, what a white face she had! What very light, straw-colored hair! Her manners were odd, Flaxie thought, for as soon as she saw the doll Peppermint Drop, she s.n.a.t.c.hed at her and would have pulled off her blue satin sash if Flaxie had not drawn it away.

"Lucy, Lucy," said Mrs. Chase, "don't touch the little girl's doll!"

Then Lucy leaned forward again, and fingered the b.u.t.tons on Aunt Charlotte's dress, and stroked her fur cloak, with a smile. That was a queer thing for such a large girl to do, but Aunt Charlotte did not seem to mind it, and only said, "I fancy Lucy wants a lozenge," and popped one into her mouth as if she had been a baby. Flaxie stared, and the mother said, with a sad smile:

"Poor Lucy knows but very little. Aren't you sorry for her?"

"Oh dear, why doesn't she?" said Flaxie, forgetting her own trouble in gazing at the strange little girl, who was now stroking Aunt Charlotte's cloak again, as if she did not hear a word that was said. "Why doesn't she know but little?"