Dotty Dimple Out West

by Sophie May

  CHAPTER VI.

  NEW FACES.

  The Cliffords lived a little way out of town. Mr. Parlin took acarriage at the depot, and he and Dotty had a very pleasant drive to"Aunt 'Ria's."

  The little girl was rather travel-stained. Her gloves were somewhatragged at the tips, from her habit of twitching them so much; and theywere also badly soiled with fruit and candy. Her hair was as smooth ashands could make it; but alas for the "style" hat which had leftPortland in triumph! It had reached Indiana in disgrace. Its tipsyappearance was due to getting stepped on, and being caught in showers.Dotty's neat travelling dress was defaced by six large grease spots.Where they had come from Dotty could not conjecture, unless "that sicklady with a bottle had spilled some of her cod-oil on it out of aspoon."

  The child had intended to astonish her relatives by her tidy array; but,after all her pains, she had arrived out West in a very sorry plight.

  "Now, which side must I look for the house, papa?"

  "At your right hand, my dear. The first thing you will see is theconservatory, and then a stone house."

  "My right hand," thought Dotty; "that's east; but which is my righthand?"

  She always knew after she had thought a moment. It was the one which didnot have the "shapest thumb;" that is, the _misshapen_ one she hadpounded once by mistake, instead of an oilnut.

  "O, yes, papa! See the flowers! the flowers! And only to think theydon't know who's coming! P'rhaps they're drinking tea, or gone visiting,or something."

  The Cliffords were not at tea. Grace and Cassy were reading "Our Boysand Girls" in the summer-house, with their heads close together; Horacewas in the woods fishing; Mr. Clifford at his office; his wife in herchamber, ruffling a pink cambric frock for wee Katie, rocking as shesewed.

  As for Katie, she was marching about the grounds under an old umbrella.It was only the skeleton of an umbrella--dry bones, wires, and a crookedhandle. Through the open sides the little one was plainly to be seen;and Mr. Parlin thought she looked like that flower we have in ourgardens, which peeps out from a host of little tendrils, and is calledthe "lady in the bower."

  Hearing a carriage coming, the "lady in the bower" rushed to the gate,flourishing the black bones of the umbrella directly in the horse'sface.

  "Dotty has camed! She has camed!" shouted the little creature, droppingthe umbrella, falling over it, springing up again, and running withflying feet to spread the news.

  Nobody believed Dotty had "camed;" it seemed an improbable story; butGrace and Cassy had heard the wheels, and they ran through the avenueinto the house to make sure it was nobody but one of the neighbors.

  "Why, indeed, and indeed, it _is_ Dotty; and if here isn't Uncle Edwardtoo!" cried Grace, tossing back her curls, and dancing down the frontsteps. "Ma, ma, here is Uncle Edward Parlin!"

  "I sawed um first! I sawed um first!" screamed little Flyaway, thrustingthe point of the umbrella between Dotty's feet, and throwing her over.

  "Can I believe my eyes!" said Mrs. Clifford's voice from the head of thestairs; and down she rushed, with open arms, to greet her guests.

  Then there was so much kissing, and so much talking, that nobody exactlyknew what anybody else said; and Katie added to the confusion byfluttering in and out, and every now and then breaking into a musicallaugh, which the mocking-bird, not to be outdone, caught up and echoed.It was a merry, merry meeting.

  "You dee papa bringed you--didn't him, Dotty?" said Katie, flying at hercousin with the feather duster, as soon as Grace had taken away theumbrella, and pointing her remarks with the end of the handle.

  "You's Uncle Eddard's baby--that's what is it."

  "O, you darling Flyaway!" said Dotty, "if you _wouldn't_ stick thathandle right _into_ my eyes!"

  "I's going to give you sumpin!" returned Katie, putting her hand in herpocket, and producing a very soft orange, which had been used for afootball. "It's a ollinge. _You_ can eat um, 'cause I gived um to you."

  "Thank you, O, thank you. Flyaway: how glad I am to see you! You lookjust the same, and no different."

  "O, no, I'm is growin' homely," replied the baby, cheerfully, "vellyhomely; Hollis said so."

  By the time Dotty's crushed hat was off, and she had made herself readyfor tea, trying to hide three of the six grease-spots with her hands,Horace appeared with a little birch switch across his shoulder, strungwith fish. The fish were few and small; but Horace was just as tired, hesaid, as if he had caught a whale. He did not say he was glad to see hisyoung cousin; but joy shone all over his face.

  "We'll have times--won't we, little Topknot?" said he, taking Katie upbetween his fingers, as if she had been a pinch of snuff.

  "Is you _found_ of ollinges, Dotty?" asked Flyaway, with an anxiousglance at the yellow fruit in Dotty's hand, still untasted.

  After tea the orange lay on the lounge.

  "I's goin' to give you a ollinge," said Katie, presenting it again, asif it were a new one. But after she had given it away three times, shethought her duty was done.

  "If you please um," said she, coaxingly, "I dess _I'll_ eat a slice o'that ollinge."

  So she had the whole.

  "Dotty, have you seen Phebe?" asked Horace.

  "No; where does she live?"

  "O, out in the kitchen. Prudy saw her when she was here, ever so longago. She hasn't faded any since."

  "O, now I remember, she's a niggro, as black as a _sip_."

  "Yes; come out and see her. She's famous for making candy. She learnedthat of Barby."

  "Who is Barby?"

  "The Dutch girl we had before Katinka came."

  Dotty went into the kitchen with Horace to watch the candy-making. Thiswas a favorite method with him of entertaining visitors.

  MAKING MOLASSES CANDY.--Page 92.]

  Phebe Dolan was a young colored girl, who had a very desirable home atMrs. Clifford's, but who always persisted in going about the house in adejected manner, as if some one had treated her unkindly. For all that,she was very happy; and under her solemn face was a deal of quiet fun.

  Katinka Dinkelspiel was a good-natured German girl, with a face as roundas a full moon, and eyes as expressive as two blots of blue paint. Shewore her fair hair rolled in front on each side into a puff like acapital O. Dotty looked at her in surprise. She was very unlike Norah,who wore bright ribbons on her head. And Katinka talked broken English,stirring up her words in such a way that the sentences were likeChinese puzzles; they needed to be taken apart and put togetherdifferently.

  "Please to make the door too," she said to Horace; and it was half aminute before Dotty understood that she was asking him to shut it.

  "This is my cousin Dotty Dimple, girls; the handsomest of the family;but not the best one--are you, though?" at the same time giving MissDimple a chair.

  "How d'ye, miss?" said Phebe, mournfully.

  Katinka said nothing, but patted the letter O on the right side of herhead.

  "O, Phib, my mother says if you are not too tired, you may make somecandy; she said so, candidly."

  Horace was just old enough to delight in puns.

  Now, this was a pleasant message to Phebe; she would have been glad tokeep her fingers in molasses half the time. Still it seemed to Dotty, asshe saw the rolling of the black eyes, that Phebe was quite discouraged.

  "I s'pose she doesn't like candy," thought she; "I heard of a girl oncethat didn't."

  Rolling her sad eyes again and again, Phebe went to draw the molasses,and soon had it boiling on the stove.

  "There," said Horace, rubbing his hands, "I told Dotty if anybody knewhow to make candy 'twas Phebe Dolan. Give us the nut-cracker, and I'llhave the pecans ready in no time."

  This time Phebe's eyes twinkled. As soon as the molasses would pour fromthe spoon in just the right way, with little films like spiders' websfloating from it, then Phebe said it was done, and Horace called Graceand Cassy. Phebe stirred in some soda with an air of solemnity, thenpoured half the contents of the kettle into a buttered platter, and theother
half into a second platter lined with pecan-meats. Then she tookthe whole out of doors to cool.

  "I'll tell you what I'm thinking about," said Dotty, as the girl leftthe room;--"what has she got on her head?"

  "Why, hair, to be sure," replied Grace.

  "Wool, I should call it," corrected Horace.

  "Because I didn't know," faltered Dotty,--"I didn't know but 'twas awig."

  "What made you think 'twas a wig, Dotty?"

  "O, there was a man wore one in the cars; it looked just like anybody'shair, only he tied it on with a button. He knew you and Horace."

  "Me and Horace? Who could it have been?"

  "He's the major; his name is Lazelle."

  "O, I remember him," said Grace and Horace together. "Does he wear awig? He isn't old at all."

  "He _calls_ himself 'an old mustache,'" returned Dotty, "for he said soto me. He wears one of those _hair-lips_, and a wig."

  "And he's as blind as a post?"

  "O, no, he can see things now. I liked him, for he gave me all theapples and peaches I could eat."

  "I reckon it did him good to go to the war," exclaimed Horace, "for Iremember, when I was a little fellow, how he boxed my ears!"

  "He has suffered a great deal since then," said the gentle Cassy,thoughtfully. "You know people generally grow better by suffering."

  "Dotty dear, you can't keep your eyes open," said Grace, after thecandy had been pulled. "I don't believe it will make _you_ any better tosuffer. I'm going to put you to bed."

  "And here I am," thought Dotty, as she laid her tired head on thepillow, "out West, under a sketo bar. Got here safe. I ought to havethanked God a little harder in my prayer."