Dick and Dolly

CHAPTER XIII
AUNT NINE

Of course that was the explanation. Mrs. Hampden was a wealthy young widow who had just came to Heatherton to live. The Dana ladies did not know her, and probably never would have known her had it not been for the twins’ escapade.

For lively little Mrs. Hampden belonged to a gay, modern set that had little in common with the Dana ladies’ older and more conservative circle of friends. Also, she was not at all like the Mrs. Hampton on whom Miss Rachel and Miss Abbie were calling, and where the twins were expected to meet them.

But as the real fault lay at the aunties’ door, inasmuch as they had not given the twins sufficiently explicit directions, it did not seem fair to blame Dick and Dolly.

And after hearing the story the twins told, Miss Rachel and Miss Abbie saw that it was their duty to call on Mrs. Hampden, and apologise for the trouble the children had made for her.

This was not a pleasant or an easy thing to do, but as it turned out, Mrs. Hampden was so flattered at having the Dana ladies call on her that she willingly forgave the children’s escapade, and begged that they might be allowed to come to see her again.

This was not promised, for Miss Rachel Dana of Dana Dene was very careful about making new acquaintances, and considered her present visiting list quite long enough. The children themselves had no wish to go again to the house where they had met with such an untoward accident, and so the incident was closed, and the aunts trusted that Mrs. Hampden would not return their call.

“But I do think,” said Aunt Abbie, as they discussed the matter at home, “that you two children ought to be reproved for spilling that ice cream.”

“I think so, too,” said Dick, cheerfully, “but ’course you know, auntie, that we didn’t mean to do it.”

“Certainly,” said Aunt Abbie, with some asperity, “I don’t suppose you poured it down on the people purposely. But you are quite old enough to know better than to walk about with saucers of food in your hands.”

“So we are!” said Dolly, as if surprised at the fact. “Aunt Abbie, I do believe we’re ’ceedingly bad children!”

“Not exactly that,” said Aunt Abbie, smiling in spite of herself, “but you are exceedingly thoughtless, and I want you to strive to correct that fault.”

“Yes’m,” said Dick, earnestly, “we’ll strive like fury. Honest, we will, Aunt Abbie. Won’t we, Doll?”

“Yes, indeedy!” agreed Dolly, with a very affirmative wagging of her head. “And now, if you’re all through scolding, Aunt Abbie, may we kiss you?”

Then, without waiting for the requested permission, both children tumbled themselves upon Miss Abbie, and gave her the soft answer that turneth away wrath. For who could continue to reprove two affectionate small persons, whose chubby arms flew about in wild caresses, and whose insistent kisses fell just wherever they happened to land? But Miss Abbie Dana was determined to instil some sense of decorum into her young charges, so when released from their embraces, she began again:

“Now that’s another thing, children; I want you to love me, of course. But it seems to me you needn’t be so – so – ”

“Rampageous?” volunteered Dick. “That’s what Pat says we are.”

“We can’t help it, auntie,” said Dolly, fixing her big brown eyes solemnly on her aunt. “You see, we’re so ’thusiastic that when we love anybody we love ’em fearful! And we just ’dore you and Aunt Rachel. Don’t we, Dick?”

“Well, I guess!” and then Miss Abbie had to stand another series of pats and kisses, which, in view of the recent conversation, the twins made a little less boisterous.

“Well, you’re dear little twinsies,” said Aunt Abbie, as at last they ran away.

“And,” she added to herself, “I think I can make them improve their manners by just keeping at it.”

Poor Miss Abbie wanted to bring the children up rightly, but the work was so new to her she didn’t know exactly how to conduct it.

As for Miss Rachel, she vibrated between over-indulgence and over-severity, an occasion of one being conscientiously followed by the other.

So the twins nearly always had their own sweet way, and as, though sometimes thoughtless, they were not mischievous children, Dana Dene was brighter and happier for their presence.

One Monday the aunties were getting ready for the Reading Circle, which was to meet at Dana Dene in the afternoon. It was very inconvenient for all the members that the club should meet on washdays, but as it always had done so, of course that couldn’t be changed.

Some ladies had the washing put off till Tuesday, but life at Dana Dene was far too methodical for that.

So when the club was expected, Delia tried to get her wash all hung out by noon, and so be ready to help in the afternoon. For, though the club didn’t assemble until three o’clock, and tea was served at five, there was much to be done in the way of prinking up the house for the occasion. The twins were allowed to help, and Dolly dusted, and brought water for the flower vases, and helped adjust fresh pillow-shams and bureau covers, until Aunt Rachel declared she didn’t know how she ever got ready for Reading Circle without Dolly’s help. And Dick’s as well; for he cut flowers, and ran lots of errands, and did lots of useful things.

And when, at about eleven o’clock, he saw the telegram boy coming with a yellow envelope, he took it and flew to Aunt Rachel with it faster than any one else could have done.

“For gracious goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Miss Rachel as she read it; “Aunt Nine is coming to dinner to-day!”

“To-day!” said Miss Abbie in a tone positively tragic, as she sank down in a big chair. “Why, she can’t, Rachel! It’s after eleven now, and the Reading Circle coming at three, and nothing but cold beef for dinner!”

“It doesn’t matter whether she can or not; she’s coming,” and Miss Rachel, who had turned fairly white with dismay, sat down opposite her sister.

“Who’s Aunt Nine? What a funny name!” cried Dick, dancing around in excited curiosity.

Dolly picked up the telegram, which had fluttered to the floor.

“‘Will arrive at twelve-thirty,’” she read; “‘meet me at the station.’”

“Why, it’s signed ‘P. Dana,’” said Dick. “How can P. Dana be Aunt Nine? How can it, Aunt Abbie?” He squeezed into the big chair beside Miss Abbie, and patted her cheek to attract her attention. “How can it? How does P. stand for Nine? Or do you mean nine aunts are coming? Oh, Doll, wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Tell me,” urged Dolly, squeezing herself into Aunt Rachel’s lap, “tell me first, auntie, ’fore Dick knows. Quick, tell me! Who’s Aunt Nine? What does it mean?”

“Oh, Dolly, for mercy’s sake don’t bother me now! She’s Aunt Penninah, your great-aunt, of course. We always call her Aunt Nine. And she’s the most particular, fussy, pernicketty old lady in the world!”

“Oh, she’s dreadful!” sighed Aunt Abbie. “We always spend weeks getting ready for her. She never came so unexpectedly before.”

“But the house is all in order,” suggested Dolly, anxious to be comforting.

“Yes, for the Reading Circle. But not for Aunt Penninah. She looks into every cupboard and storeroom, and, besides, we’ve nothing for dinner.”

“I’ll go get something,” offered Dick. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know! I don’t know!” groaned Miss Rachel. “Go and send Hannah here. And it’s wash-day, too! And the Reading Club! Oh, what can we do?”

But after the first surprise and bewilderment were over, the Dana ladies rose to the occasion, and did the best they could.

Michael was sent to town for supplies, Hannah was instructed to set the table with special elaboration, and Aunt Abbie herself went into the kitchen and whisked up a pudding.

Delia was still at her washing, and Pat was putting finishing touches to the lawn and flower-beds so they could not be disturbed.

The twins flew about in earnest endeavours to help, but after their breaking a cut-glass vase, and upsetting a small table of bric-à-brac, Aunt Rachel lost patience.

“Dick and Dolly,” she said, “you go upstairs and stay either in your own rooms or in your playroom until dinner is served at one o’clock! Do you understand? No; I’m not scolding, but I’m so put about that you two simply drive me distracted! Now obey me exactly, for that’s all you can do to help. Come down to the library at five minutes to one, – not a minute before. And see that you’re spandy clean, and very nicely dressed. Put on your blue lawn, Dolly, and tie your hair ribbons carefully.”

“Yes’m; Dick’ll tie ’em for me. He does it just lovely.”

Subdued by Aunt Rachel’s desperate manner, the twins crept away, resolved to be very good, and do exactly as they were told.

“It isn’t twelve yet,” said Dick; “no use dressing now. We’d only get all rumpled up. Let’s go up in the playroom.”

So up they went, and began to play with Lady Eliza.

“Hello, ’Liza!” cried Dick, shaking her wax hand cordially. “I haven’t seen you in some time. Are you well?”

“Pretty well,” said Dolly in a squeaky voice. It was part of their play that, whenever either twin spoke to Lady Eliza, the other twin was to answer for her.

“Pretty well. But I’m tired of this old frock, – I want a change.”

“All right,” said Dick; “we’ll fix you up. Let’s rig her up gay, Doll, and we’ll show her off to Aunt Nine.”

“All right,” and Dolly flew to the trunk that contained Lady Eliza’s wardrobe.

They selected an old-fashioned blue silk dress that Aunt Rachel had given them, and proceeded to array Eliza in it. Then Dolly dressed her hair. She loved to do this, for Eliza’s hair was very profuse, if not of very fine texture, and soon Dolly had built a fine array of puffs and curls, with a fancy ornament of blue and silver tucked in at the side.

Then, desiring to make her very grand, Dolly put a necklace of her own round Eliza’s neck, and added several long strings of beads, hung with various trinkets.

“How do I look?” said Dolly in the squeaky voice that always represented Lady Eliza’s talking.

“You look gay,” said Dick. “Perhaps this afternoon you’ll meet a grand lady, Miss Nine Dana. I hope you’ll behave properly.”

“Oh, I’ll behave lovely,” squeaked Eliza, and then the twins ran away to dress for dinner. By quarter of one they were all ready.

Dolly looked very sweet and demure in her frilly blue lawn, and her beautiful hair was tied with a big white bow which Dick had skilfully arranged. By practice his deft little fingers had conquered the science of tying bows, so Dolly’s hair ribbons were always marvels of correct proportions.

They had promised not to go to the library until five minutes of one, and the ten minutes intervening seemed interminable. They drifted back to the playroom to say good-by to Eliza, when Dick had an inspiration.

“Let’s take her down,” he said, “and put her in the dining-room to greet Aunt Nine when we all go out to dinner.”

“Let’s!” cried Dolly, and in a jiffy they were carrying the Lady Eliza Dusenbury silently down the back stairs. By good luck they didn’t encounter Hannah or the aunties, and they reached the dining-room in safety.

“Where shall we stand her?” said Dick. “In the bay window?”

“No,” said Dolly. “Let’s sit her at the table.”

“She won’t sit.”

“Well, we’ll sort of slide her under; if we put her in Aunt Rachel’s big chair she’ll be all right.”

They propped Eliza into the chair, and though she seemed to be falling backward in a swoon, her bright eyes and pink cheeks betokened good health. Her elaborate costume looked fine at the prettily set table, and Dick moved her arms about until they seemed extended in welcome.

“That’s fine!” said Dolly, nodding admiringly at the tableau.

“This is finer!” cried Dick, and taking the large carving-knife from the table, he thrust it into Eliza’s outstretched hand. This was easily done by sticking the knife handle partly up her long tight sleeve, and her effect, as she brandished the glittering steel, was now ferocious.

“Gay!” cried Dolly; “won’t they be s’prised! Come on, Dick, it’s five minutes to one.”

The twins, hand in hand, went into the library, and with their best curtseys were presented to Aunt Penninah.

“These are the children, Aunt Nine,” said Miss Rachel, and Dick and Dolly saw, sitting an a big armchair, the most imposing-looking personage they had ever met.

Miss Penninah Dana was a large and very tall woman, with white hair, and large, piercing black eyes that seemed to see everything.

“H’m; twins, are you?” she said, looking at them over her eyeglasses. “You seem very demure. Are you always so quiet?”

Dick rolled his eyes toward Aunt Rachel.

“Shall we show her?” he whispered, quite ready to pounce on the new aunt if desired.

“Mercy, no!” said Miss Rachel. “Do behave, if you can.”

“Well,” said Dick, answering Aunt Nine’s question, “we’re not always so quiet. But to-day we’re trying to be good because you’re here, and the Reading Circle is coming.”

“But sometimes we’re good when there isn’t company, too,” put in Dolly, not wanting to be misjudged.

“I’m surprised at that!” said Aunt Nine, but there was a merry gleam in her eye, and somehow the twins began to think they were going to like her in spite of her majestic appearance.

Then dinner was announced, and, as the guest arose, the children were impressed afresh with her evident importance.

She walked like a duchess, and seemed to expect everybody to dance attendance upon her.

Aunt Rachel picked up her handkerchief, and Aunt Abbie her vinaigrette, for she dropped them both as she rose.

The twins, greatly interested, walked behind, and they all started toward the dining-room.

As they neared the door, the hostesses stepped back and Aunt Penninah stalked stiffly into the room.

Perhaps it was not to be wondered at, for the figure at the table was certainly startling to look at, and the glittering carving knife was aimed straight at her, but Aunt Penninah threw up both her hands, gave a fearful shriek, and fainted dead away!

CHAPTER XIV
A CORONATION

“Oh, Aunt Nine, what is the matter?” cried Miss Rachel, bending over her, while Miss Abbie fluttered around distractedly.

They had not yet seen Lady Eliza, as they were so engrossed with their stricken guest.

Nor did it occur to Dick and Dolly, at first, that it was their beloved Eliza that had caused the trouble.

Aunt Penninah began to revive, as Miss Rachel sprinkled water in her face, and Miss Abbie held her strong smelling-salts to her nose.

“Who is it?” she asked, faintly, sitting up on the floor, and pointing to the dangerous-looking person with the carving knife.

“Oh,” cried Dolly, “if she wasn’t scared at Lady Eliza! Why, that’s nobody, Aunt Nine! Only just a wax doll.”

“Take that thing away!” said Miss Rachel, sternly, as she realised what had happened.

Dick and Dolly fairly jumped. Aunt Rachel had never spoken to them in that tone before, and they suddenly realised that it had been naughty to put Eliza at the table, though they had thought it only a joke. Silently, the twins began to lift Eliza from her chair, when Aunt Nine screamed out:

“Come away, children! You’ll be killed! Oh, Rachel, who is she?”

“Nobody, Aunt Nine. It’s a doll, a wax dummy that belongs to the children. They put her there for fun, I suppose.”

“Fun!” roared Aunt Penninah, glaring at the twins. “Do you call it fun to frighten me out of my senses?”

As her speech and manner nearly frightened the twins out of their senses, they were pretty nearly even, but apparently the old lady was waiting for an answer.

“We thought it would be fun,” said Dolly, truthfully. “You see, we didn’t know how easily you scared.”

“Easily scared, indeed! Who wouldn’t be scared to come into a room and find a strange woman brandishing a carving knife in my very face! A nice pair of children you are! Leave the room at once, – or else I shall!”

Dick and Dolly were bewildered by this tornado of wrath, and began to edge toward the hall door, keeping out of reach of the irate lady.

But Miss Rachel, though deeply mortified and seriously annoyed at the twins’ mischief, was a strong stickler for justice, and she well knew, Dick and Dolly had meant only a harmless joke.

“Now, Aunt Nine,” she said; “don’t take this so seriously. The children meant no harm, they wanted to amuse you; and had it not been for the carving knife, I daresay you would have found the Lady Eliza very funny indeed.”

“Funny! that horrible thing with her staring eyes! Take her away so I can eat my dinner!”

At a gesture from Aunt Abbie, Hannah and Dick removed the offending Eliza, and returned the carving knife to the sideboard. As Eliza was a great friend of both Hannah and Delia, she was allowed to stand in the butler’s pantry all through dinner time.

“Well, what do you say, Aunt Nine?” said Aunt Abbie, “may the twins sit at table, or would you rather have them sent from the room?”

“Oh, let them stay,” said the old lady, not very graciously. “I’ve no desire to be too severe, but that awful sight shocked my nerves, and I may never get over it.”

This awful outlook grieved Dolly’s tender heart, and she flew to the old lady and clasped her hand, while she said:

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Nine! I didn’t know you had nerves, and I thought you’d be ’mused to see Lady Eliza sitting there. I don’t know how we happened to give her the carving knife. But we ’most always put something in her hand. I wish we’d thought of a fan! That would have been pretty, and it wouldn’t have hurt your nervousness, – would it?”

“Perhaps not,” said Aunt Penninah, grimly, but she couldn’t help smiling at pretty little Dolly, who was caressing her be-ringed old hand, and looking imploringly up into her face.

Then she turned to Dick.

“And how about you, sir?” she said. “Did you think it amusing to threaten a guest with a carving-knife?”

Dick came over and looked at her with his straightforward eyes.

“I didn’t mean to threaten you, of course,” he said. “But it was naughty, and I’m sorry, – we’re both sorry, – and can we do anything to make you forgive us?”

“No, you can’t,” said Aunt Penninah, “but when you look at me like that, – with your father’s very eyes, – there is no question of forgiveness. You’re all Dana – both of you!”

And then the strange old lady kissed both the twins and peace was restored all around.

Dinner went on smoothly. Miss Abbie and Miss Rachel were secretly impatient, because there was much yet to be done before the Reading Circle came, but Miss Penninah’s presence admitted of no scanting of ceremony.

Hannah’s service was more punctilious than the twins had ever before known it, for Hannah had been at Dana Dene many years, and knew the exactions and demands of a visit from Miss Penninah.

But at last the lengthy meal reached its close.

“Will you go to your room for a rest, Aunt Nine?” said Miss Abbie, hopefully, as they rose from the table.

“No, I won’t; I’m not tired at all. I’ll make the further acquaintance of these very astonishing young relatives of mine.”

“Oh, do, Aunt Nine! Do come and play with us!” cried Dick, with such unmistakable sincerity that the old lady was greatly pleased.

“Yes, come out and see our gardens,” said Dolly, dancing by her side, and to the great relief of the other two aunties, Miss Penninah walked off with the twins.

Then Hannah and the two ladies flew ’round like mad. They put leaves in the table until it was as long as possible; they set it with all the best china and glass and silver for the Reading Circle’s tea. For the feast was not a tea at all, but a most elaborate supper, and Aunt Nine’s coming had sadly delayed the preparations.

Meantime, that elderly dame was walking round the children’s playground. She was greatly pleased with their gardens, and was surprised to learn that they tilled and weeded them all themselves.

“You’re really very smart little people,” she said, “and quite worthy to bear the Dana name.”

The twins were flattered, for they well knew how highly all their aunts thought of the Dana name, and, too, they had already begun to like the peculiar old lady who had scolded them so harshly at the very beginning of their acquaintance.

When it was nearly time for the ladies of the Reading Circle to arrive, Aunt Rachel told the twins they must go out to their playground and stay there all the afternoon.

“For,” she said, “I cannot run the risk of having some ridiculous thing happen during our programme. You don’t mean to do wrong, but you’re just as likely as not to stand Lady Eliza up beside our President when she’s making her address. So take Eliza with you, and go out to the garden, and stay there until Delia rings the bell, or Hannah comes to call you.”

“All right,” said Dick, “and if any of the boys or girls come over, may Hannah send them out there to us?”

“Yes, I’ll tell her. Now, run along.”

They ran along, though slowly, because of Lady Eliza’s difficult transportation. But at last they reached the playground, and stood Eliza in a corner, ready for action when they needed her.

“Jiminy Crickets!” remarked Dick, “but Aunt Nine’s the funny old lady, isn’t she, Doll?”

“Yep; but I sort of like her. After she got through blowing us up, she was real jolly.”

“Yes, and wasn’t Auntie Rachel the brick to stand up for us at dinner time?”

“She was so. I wonder how long Aunt Nine is going to stay.”

“I dunno. A week, I guess. Hello, here comes Pinkie. Hello, Pinkie!”

“Hello!” she returned, and then almost before she and Dolly had said “Hello!” Jack Fuller came.

This quartette were almost always together on pleasant afternoons, and as Dana Dene had attractions that the other homes didn’t possess, they played there oftener than elsewhere.

“Hello, Lady Eliza Dusenbury,” said Jack, shaking hands with that silent partner.

Of course, all the boys and girls knew Lady Eliza now, and indeed the citizens of the village had ceased to be surprised when the twins rode to town in the farm wagon, with Eliza accompanying them.

The servants at Dana Dene took her as a matter of course, and Michael was fond of bowing politely, and saying, “The top of the mornin’ to ye, ma’am!”

“Let’s build a throne and crown Eliza queen,” suggested Jack, and the rest at once agreed.

“What shall we make the throne of?” asked Dolly.

“I’ll ask Michael,” said Dick, “he always helps us out.”

But Michael was busy with some extra work connected with the visit of the Reading Circle, and had no time for bothering with youngsters.

“Throne, is it?” he said; “I’ve no time to be buildin’ ye royal palaces! Take the wheelbarry fer a throne, shure!”

It was a chance suggestion, but it served, and Dick returned to the waiting group, trundling the wheelbarrow.

“We can’t bother Michael much,” he said, “’cause he has to run that Reading Circle thing. But I guess we can fix up this wheelbarrow with flowers and greens and make it do. Hello, Maddy; Hello, Cliff!”

Madeleine and Clifford Lester had arrived during Dick’s absence, but greetings were soon spoken, and the more the merrier.

Then the half dozen went to work with a will, using both heads and hands to devise ingenious plans for the coronation of Eliza.

“She ought to be dressed in white,” said Dolly, looking disapprovingly on Eliza’s blue dress; “but she hasn’t a white frock to her name.”

“Hasn’t your aunt any?” asked Pinkie, realising the real need of white.

“I can’t bother her to-day,” said Dolly, decidedly; “she’s got the Reading Circle and Aunt Nine both at once; and she told me to keep out.”

“Couldn’t you get a big white apron from Delia,” suggested Maddy Lester.

“No; queens don’t wear aprons.”

Then Dolly’s eye lighted on the clothes line, full of the Monday wash, which busy Delia had not yet taken in, though it was thoroughly dry.

“I might get something there!” she cried. “Come on, girls!”

The three girls ran to the big, sunny bleaching ground, where three long lines of white clothes waved in the breeze.

“They’re all too little,” said Pinkie, as she viewed Dolly’s own dresses and petticoats.

“No, here’s Aunt Rachel’s nightgown! This will do!” cried Dolly, and in a jiffy she had the clothespins pulled off, and the voluminous, ruffled garment in her arms.

“Just the thing!” cried Maddy, and they raced back to the playground.

It made a beautiful white robe for Eliza, and when belted with a large bath-towel, also brought from the clothes line, Eliza looked like an Oriental princess.

“Get another towel and make a turban,” said Clifford, and this gave their queen a still more foreign look.

“The throne thing ought to be white, too,” said Pinkie, who had an eye for color effect. “It’ll be a lot prettier to pin the flowers and greens on, if it’s white first. Let’s get sheets, – shall we, Dolly?”

“I don’t care,” said Dolly, absorbed in making Eliza’s turban stay on her head.

So Pinkie and Madeleine flew for the sheets, and stripped the clothesline of all there were there.

“Now!” they exclaimed, coming back triumphantly, with their arms full of billows of white linen.

“Now!” cried Dick, and they fell to work, and draped and twisted the sheets, until the wheelbarrow was a lovely white throne. This they decked with their flower garlands, and then lifted Queen Eliza up on it. As she, too, had been decked with blossoms and garlands, it was really a pretty sight, and the children clapped their hands and danced about in glee at their own success.

“Now, we’ll crown her,” said Dick, “but I say, Dollums, we all ought to be in white, too!”

“That’s easy,” said Dolly, recklessly; “there’s lots of things on the clothesline yet.”

Back there they all ran, and chose costumes to please their varying tastes.

The three girls chose more ruffled nightgowns like Eliza’s and looped them up with flowers on either side, like fancy overskirts.

The boys selected lace-ruffled petticoats that belonged variously to the aunts or to Hannah and Delia, and round their shoulders they draped tablecloths or pillowshams in toga fashion.

Some table centrepieces and carving-scarfs formed fine head-gear, and by the time all the costumes were completed, the clotheslines looked as if the wash had been taken in after all.

The white-garbed half dozen pranced back to the queen on her throne, and the ceremonies began.

“First, we sing a dirge,” said Jack Fuller.

“Not a dirge,” said Dolly. “Don’t you mean a chant?”

“Well, some waily kind of a thing, anyway.”

So they all droned an inharmonious series of wailings that might have been imitative of Chinese tom-toms, only it wasn’t meant to be.

“Now we must have a speech,” said Pinkie; “you make it, Dick; you’re good at that.”

“All right,” said Dick, and stepping forward, while his tablecloth toga trailed in the dust, he began:

“Oh, Queen Eliza Dusenbury, we beg you to accept this crown. We want you for our beloved queen, and we will obey all your rules and reggilations. We bow our hominage – ”

“Homage,” corrected Jack.

“’Taint, it’s hominage! bow, anyway!”

So they all bowed in token of homage to their queen.

“Now we have to back away,” said Maddy; “they always do at court.”

The six backed away from the queen’s throne, but as backing with long trailing robes is not to be neatly done without practice, they one and all tripped over their trains and togas and went tumbling around on the ground.

“Get up, all of you!” cried Dick, who had scrambled to his feet. “Now we must sing.”

“What shall we sing?”

“I don’t care – ‘John Brown’s Body,’ I guess.”

So they all sang “John Brown’s Body” with great gusto, and then the coronation ceremonies were declared over.

And none too soon, for just then they saw Michael coming with a huge trayful of good things, which he placed on the table in the arbour.

“Fer the land’s sake!” he exclaimed as the children crowded round. “Whativer have yez been up to now! The clean clo’es from the line, as I’m a sinner! Arrah, but ye’ll catch it, ye bad babies!”

“Wow! they did get dirty, didn’t they?” exclaimed Jack, realising for the first time how they had tumbled about on the ground.

“Yes, they’re all dirt and grass stains. Will your aunts mind, Dolly?”

“I don’t know,” said Dolly, “but anyway it isn’t your fault, any of you. Let’s take ’em off and eat supper now.”

It was characteristic of Dolly to spare her guests’ feelings, though she had herself a sudden uneasy sense of naughtiness at having taken the clean clothes to play with. But it was also her nature to put off an evil hour, if possible, so the children gaily scrambled out of their white raiment and sat down to the feast with good appetites.

“The girls is waitin’ on the Readin’ ladies,” said Michael, as he came out with a second trayful, “so ye’re to wait on yerselves with these things.”

Then Dolly and Pinkie arranged the table, and soon the group were eating sandwiches and cakes and strawberries and ice cream, and all the good things that went to make up a Reading Circle feast.

“The little raskills!” said Michael, as he gathered up the sheets and garments they had thrown off. “Whativer is the rayson, I dunno, but Miss Dolly and Masther Dick is just the baddest little shpalpeens I iver saw, an’ yet I love ’em, ivery breath they draws!”