CHAPTER NINETEEN DIXIE GOES SHOPPING
Dixie was awake on the eventful Saturday morning as soon as the firstbird-note was heard underneath the wide-spreading eaves. Quietly sheslipped from bed, hoping not to awaken the little curly-headed sleeperat her side, but, just as she was buttoning up her best gingham dress,Carol opened dazed blue eyes and looked about.
"Why, Dixie Martin, what for are you up so early?" was the puzzledquery, but almost instantly the little girl remembered, and at once shebegan to climb out of bed.
"Oh, I know," she prattled, "this is the day that you go to Genoa withMiss Bayley, and I am to be 'little mother' to Baby Jim and Ken."
In another moment the arms of the older girl were about her, and theflushed cheeks were being kissed as Dixie exclaimed, "Carol, it's sonice of you not to mind my going and leaving you at home, but some day,I'm just sure, it will be your turn to go and see the shops, and--andeverything."
There was joy in the heart of Dixie as she descended the ladder that ledfrom their loft bedroom. How Carol had changed! Just one short month agoshe would have sulked if Dixie were to be given some pleasure that shehad not been asked to share, but to-day the small girl was actuallygetting up hours earlier than usual, that she might be a real help inthe little home, and that Dixie need not be all tired out beforestarting on her wonderful journey. But, early as these two little maidswere astir, Ken was ahead of them, and, just as the potatoes and baconwere sizzling for breakfast, in he came with a pail of milk.
"Girls," he cried jubilantly, twirling his cap so dexterously that itcaught on the hook by the door, just as he wished it to do, "something'shappened. Something jolly! Guess what."
The sisters looked interested but did not venture a guess.
"Blessing is weaned!" was the astonishing announcement. "He wriggled outof his pen in the night I guess. I was awful panicky at first, thinkin'like as not he was lost, but where d'you think I found him? In the shed,eating apples."
"Well, I'm glad," Carol remarked as she continued with her task, "wewon't have to bother any more about feeding him with a bottle."
Dixie sighed, "I was hoping you'd say my cat had come back. She's beengone three weeks if it's a day."
Ken laughed as he turned the milk through a sieve. "Cats always comeback, sis," he said encouragingly. Then, for a moment, he was silent ashe plunged his face into a deep basin of cool water from the pump, butlater, when he was rubbing vigorously with a rough towel, he winked oneeye at Carol as he added: "Even if Topsy never comes back, it's smallloss. The world is full of cats." He said it to tease, for well he knewhis sister's devotion to that particular black cat. The expected retortcame:
"Why, Ken Martin, how can you say that, when you know there's only oneTopsy cat? You might as well say that if Baby Jim went away, it wouldn'tmatter, 'cause the world is full of babies."
Carol pretended to be indignant. "Dixie, how can you speak of cats andour baby all in one breath?"
A small voice arose in the next room, and the little mother flewthitherward, to return a moment later with a sleepy, flushed littlefour-year-old, who was covered with a long pink-flannel nightie. Hisgolden curls were towsled, and when the little maid had seated herselfand cuddled him on her lap, he beamed around at them all, but looked upinto the face that was bending over him with his sweetest smile. Then,lifting his warm little hand, he patted her freckled cheek as heprattled, "Jimmy-Boy loves Dixie."
Almost convulsively the girl held him close. "Oh, Baby Jim," she said,"I'm awfully sorry I said that about cats, for even if the world is fullof babies, after all, there's only just one."
An hour later Carol looked at the clock. "You'd better hurry, Dix," shesaid. "You wouldn't want to miss the stage."
And hurry the little maid did, and at eight o'clock promptly she set offup the canyon trail with a song singing in her heart, and with feet thatcould hardly be kept from dancing.
Josephine Bayley was just finishing her breakfast when a tap came uponher door. With the girlish skip which had so shocked prim little MissArcher, she went to open it, and, as she had supposed, she found Dixie,her freckled face aglow, standing outside.
She was wearing a very pretty leghorn hat wreathed with daisies.
"Why, Dixie, how nice you look!" the young woman exclaimed. "Come in,dear. We can see the stage when it comes up the valley road. What apretty hat you have."
The girl flushed. "'Tisn't mine, teacher," she confessed. "It belongs toCarol, but she just made me wear it." Then she added in a burst ofconfidence: "Carol's changed a lot since she went away to be 'dopted.Before that she never would let me even put this hat on in front of themirror, let alone wear it outdoors, but this morning, when I was puttingon my old hat that got caught in the rain last spring and sort oflimped, she came right up and took it away, and then, before I knew whatshe was up to, she slipped back of me and put her treasure-hat right onmy head, and when I said something might happen to it, she said, 'Allright, let it,' but that she wasn't going to have her big sister go totown in a hat that looked as though Biddy-hen had used it for a nest."
There were sudden tears in the eyes of the little girl. "Oh, teacher,"she confided, "I did think that I always loved Carol as much as ever Icould, but I'm loving her more every day, and Ken, too. He said lastnight, 'Gee, sis. I'm glad now Carol went away to be 'dopted, for I'm soglad she came back.'"
"She is a dear, sweet girl," Miss Bayley said, "and it was nice for herto want you to wear the hat which she so treasures, but I'm sure thatnothing will happen to it, for there isn't a cloud in the blue, bluesky, and we're not expecting whirlwinds to carry it away."
While they talked, Miss Bayley washed the few dishes and then Dixiehelped her spread the bed in the screened-in porch, which was still ajoy to the girl who had lived her twenty years in crowded New York.
Just as the last little pat was given to the pillow, a distant rumblingwas heard, and Dixie ran to the front window of the cabin and lookeddown the valley road. "It's coming, teacher, Miss Bayley. The stage is'most here!"
Josephine Bayley felt as though she were a girl again, a very younggirl. Dixie's excitement was contagious. Donning her hat and jacket, andtaking her shopping-bag, which had room in it for all the things theywere going to purchase, she caught the little girl by the hand, and,though her feet longed to skip, they thought it best to walk demurely,for the innkeeper's wife, Mrs. Enterprise Twiggly, had appeared to greetany newcomers that might have arrived to stay at the inn, and well didMiss Bayley know that she expected schoolteachers to appear moroselydignified.
Mr. Hiram Tressler, the driver of the stage, was a very old man, havingdriven that route more years than Mr. Enterprise Twiggly could remember.He had been born and brought up in those parts, but his unwavering goodnature and optimism had kept him young-looking, and his lifeout-of-doors had made him, as he himself said, "as hard as a pine-knot."
"All aboard, them that's comin' aboard!" he called from his high seat.Then, noting that the new teacher, whom he had brought up from Reno buta month before, was about to embark with him, he added, "Miss Bayley,wouldn't you an' little Dixie Martin like to sit up front?"
The young girl looked up into the face of her companion so eagerly thatthe teacher gave a laughing response that she was sure they would beglad to accept the invitation. The passengers inside the coach lookedlike traveling salesmen, with much baggage stowed about them, and theyseemed much more desirous of sleeping than they did of admiring themajestic scenery through which they were to pass. One did waken when thestage started with a jolt, but soon dozed again.
Little Dixie, wedged in between Miss Bayley and the stage-driver, lookedup beamingly at first one and then the other. "Traveling's realexciting, isn't it?" she said at last, when they were well under way.
Josephine Bayley nodded. Was it amusing or was it tragic, she waswondering, that this little midget, small for her twelve years, hadnever been out of Woodford's but once before, and that once to he
lpselect a coffin. Josephine Bayley resolved that this day should be sobrimmed with happy hours that the little girl would have no time torecall the sad memory of that other journey to Genoa.
They were turning down the rough, rugged canyon road that was deep in theshadow of great old pines, when Ken, Carol, and Baby Jim leaped frombehind the massive trunks where they had been hiding, and shouted,waving their handkerchiefs, "Good-by, Dixie! Good-by, teacher!" ThenBaby Jim's shrill, excited voice floated down the canyon after them,"Bring me some candy!"
What a happy light there was in the gold-brown eyes that were lifted tothe teacher, as the little girl said: "I hoped they'd all come. I'm soglad they wanted to!"
Josephine Bayley held the thin hand of the child in a close clasp, andshe was thinking: "Lucky little girl! How I wish I had some one to carewhether I come or go! Brother Tim is all I have in this wide world, andwe are so far apart." Then, remembering that this was to be Dixie's day,the teacher chatted about things that would interest her little comrade,and two hours later Mr. Hiram Tressler sang out, "There's Genoa'schurch-steeple." Then, with evident pride, "Teacher, did ye ever see anybuildin' go up much higher'n that?"
Miss Josephine Bayley, late of New York, had to confess that she hadseen steeples a mite higher. She wondered what the stage-driver wouldthink if his route led by the Woolworth building, but how glad, glad shewas that it didn't!
Ten minutes later the stage-driver drew rein. "Here we are now. Thatthere's the dry-goods emporium, teacher. I'll pick you up agin, right onthis very spot, prompt at five o'clock. So long!" Then the stage rumbledaway, and Dixie, clinging to the teacher's hand, entered the store, herheart beating like a trip-hammer.
There was silk, silk everywhere about her, and how glad she was that twodollars and thirty cents would buy enough for a birthday dress forCarol.
Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Page 20