Without more ado Kenneth sat down on the staircase, closing his eyes and shuddering with fear of what might happen next. But what happened? The staircase merely stopped with a jerk—and stood still.
“April Fool!” cried the far-off voice of the imp. “You might have done it long ago. April Fool—Fool—Fool!” and the voice faded away into a mere sigh of the breeze.
At the same moment Kenneth heard a sweet call from the top of the staircase. “Kenneth, Kenneth!” it said, in silvery tones quite unlike the imp’s harsh ones. And, looking up, he saw his good Fairy coming swiftly down the staircase toward him.
[54]“Oh, good Fairy,” sobbed Kenneth, “I have had such a dreadful time looking for you! Please stay by me, and do not let that bad, bad April Fool find me again.”
The good Fairy leaned over Kenneth and put her hand on his head. “Poor boy!” she said. “Has April Fool been playing his tricks on you? This was his night, you know. He said you were a friend of his, so we had to let him have his joke with you. He is indeed a horrid fellow, and I hope he is no longer your friend.”
“No, he will never be my friend again,” cried Kenneth.
“I like my own kind of jokes a great deal better,” said the Fairy: “pleasant surprises, unexpected kindnesses, pain turned into pleasure, and disappointment into joy. One can play those jokes all through the year. But it is too late for any of them to-night. You must go back home now, Kenneth.”
“I am quite ready to go,” said Kenneth wearily, for even a pleasant joke had no charms[55] for him now, he was so tired. The Fairy took him by the hand and led him back to the station. They passed the magic nut bushes, but Kenneth did not pause. They walked under the tempting Christmas trees, but he did not look up. They went between the rows of flowers, gently tittering on either side, but Kenneth did not so much as glance at them. The kind Fairy held his hand, and April Fool could play no tricks upon him now.
At the station the Fairy guide kissed Kenneth sweetly, and closed his eyes with her wand. “Come again to-morrow night,” she murmured, “and naughty April Fool will be gone for another year. Then you shall come into my palace and we will play some happy tricks.”
Then she spoke the magic words of his return ticket, and Kenneth, with his eyes closed, felt a spring, a rush, and a whirling about his head. But he never peeped until he felt once more the gentle jounce that told[56] him the end of his journey had come. Then with his fists he rubbed his eyes and, winking sleepily, opened them to find himself snugly lying in bed, with the morning sun shining into his window.
CHAPTER VII THE DOLLS’ MAY-PARTY
ALICE had never gone to a party before. Of course Rose, who was almost six years old, had gone to a great many. But Alice, who was her newest doll, was very young. She had come, you remember, on Christmas day, at the same time with Buff and Fluff; and the kittens had never yet been to a party either.
Matilda, who was Rose’s old doll, had been to almost as many parties as Rose herself. But Matilda was not invited to this party. Only the youngest and prettiest dolls were invited to this party, for it was to be a May-Party, where every one has to look as beautiful as possible. Poor Matilda had only one eye and a broken nose.
Ernestine, who was Lilian’s doll and who lived in the next block to Rose and Alice, sent[58] out the invitations to ten dolls and their little mammas. They were to come at two o’clock in the afternoon of May Day for a picnic at her house. And every one was to bring a luncheon in a little basket, just as if it were a really truly picnic in the summer woods, instead of a cold city May.
Rose dressed Alice in her prettiest white muslin gown, with a blue sash and the dear little watch which had come in the Christmas stocking. Alice’s yellow hair was curled and tied with a blue bow, and she looked so much like her little mother that Mrs. Thornton could not help laughing when they started for the picnic together. But Rose did not see anything very funny about it. Every one said that she looked like her own mother, and why should not Alice look like Rose?
At the very last moment, when they were starting for the party, Rose ran back upstairs to the play-room, where the old Matilda sat in her little chair by the fireplace.
“You poor dear old thing,” said Rose, hugging[59] her tight, “I never before went to a party without you, and it seems very cruel to leave you all alone. But please remember that I still love you dearly, though you have only one eye, and your nose is broken, and you aren’t pretty like Alice. I can’t take you to parties any more, because people would laugh at you. But you have had a great many good times, haven’t you, Matilda? while Alice hasn’t been yet to a single party. I must make Alice have a good time now, for she is my youngest child. Good-by, Matilda dear, and don’t you be lonesome while we are gone.”
Then Rose kissed the poor old doll and set her back in the little chair beside the fireplace. But Matilda looked very sad when the little mother went out of the door with the new doll in her arms, and it almost looked as if there was a real tear on her faded cheek under the one remaining eye.
When the front door banged behind them, Matilda fell forward onto the carpet and lay[60] there face downwards all the while that Rose and Alice were at the May-Party.
The party was held in Lilian’s dining-room. The floor was covered with a green rug which had flowers on it, and which looked like the real grassy out-doors of the country. In the middle of the room, instead of a dining-table, was a little May-pole, as tall as Rose’s head, with a wreath of flowers at the top and pretty colored ribbons hanging down all around it.
On one side was a throne with three little steps leading up to it, for the May Queen to sit on. And on top of the throne lay a beautiful crown of real flowers for the Queen to wear.
First of all, the dolls were stood up in a long row, so that the prettiest one might be chosen. There was Ernestine herself, the hostess, who was a fat wax doll as big as a real baby, with flaxen hair and four white teeth. Ernestine was very accomplished, for she could say “Papa” and “Mamma,” but[61] she was not nice and huggable and pretty like Alice. (At least, that was what Rose thought.)
Then there was Marjorie, who had black hair, and Helen-Grace-Antoinette, who wore a real satin dress that came from Paris; and Bébé, who was in long clothes and who was thought by all the little mothers, except her own, too babyish for a May-Party. There was Yo-San, who was a lovely Japanese lady; and Toto, a little boy sailor doll, the only gentleman present,—and of course he couldn’t be the May Queen! Then there were Blanche, and Beatrice, and Dinah who was black,—everybody wondered why she came to the party. Last of all, there was Alice. She was smaller than Blanche and Beatrice, but she wore a watch tucked into her sash. No other doll had a watch.
Each little girl wrote on a piece of paper the name of the doll which, next to her own, she thought prettiest. No one could vote for her own doll, for of course each little mother[62] would think her own child the best, and there would have to be ten queens.
Lilian’s mamma counted the votes. And what do you suppose? Alice was elected to be May Queen! It was all on account of the watch. You can imagine how proud Rose was.
They set Alice on the throne and put the crown of real flowers on her yellow curls, and she looked so pretty that Rose had to rush up and kiss her the very first thing. And all the other little girls wanted to kiss her, too.
Then the dolls danced around the May-pole, each one holding the end of one of the colored ribbons, till the pole was twisted all the way down and looked like a big stick of striped candy. The dolls seemed to enjoy it very much, but their mammas were a bit dizzy afterwards.
Then it was time for the picnic. Everybody sat down cross-legged on the green grass rug and opened the little lunch-baskets. First they spread a napkin on the grass, just[63] as one does at a real picnic, and set all the cakes and cookies and sandwiches on it, where every one could reach for herself. And they ate without any plates or knives or forks, which was great fun. But there were no ants to come and eat up the crumbs.
There were little cunning cakes, and figs and dates, grapes and apples, and some molasses candy. And there was lemonade to drink,—just like a grown-up picnic.
After they had eaten everything they played games around the May-pole until it was almost dark, and then it was time to go home. But before they went Ernestine, who gave the party, carried up to the throne a big tissue-paper basket full of flowers, and gave it to the May Queen, kneeling down before Alice on the lowest step of the throne, just as they do in plays. And Rose was so proud that her face turned as pink as one of the roses in the May Queen’s lovely basket. Each doll had a dear little nosegay to take home, but only the Queen had a whole basket full of flowers.
[64]“You dear, lovely Queen Alice!” cried Rose, as she hugged her dollie tight on the way home. “I am so proud of you, and I love you better than anything in the world except Papa and Mamma and Kenneth and Cousin Charlie,—oh, yes, and Matilda. I had almost forgotten poor Matilda.”
Rose was quiet for a minute, and then she whispered to Alice, “Don’t you think you ought to give some of these lovely flowers to poor Matilda, who didn’t go to the party and who isn’t pretty any more?”
Alice was a sweet little doll, and was quite willing to share her flowers. So as soon as the front door was opened Rose ran upstairs to the play-room with the May Queen on one arm and the basket of flowers on the other. There she found poor Matilda lying face downward on the carpet.
“Oh, you poor, poor dollie!” cried Rose. “Did you feel so badly as that? Well, don’t cry any more. Here is your dear little sister, the May Queen, who has come to share her[65] lovely flowers with you. We both love you so much that we are going to make you our Play-Room Queen. See!”
Then she lifted poor Matilda and set her up on the window seat, as if she were on a throne. And she took the beautiful flowers out of Alice’s basket and made a wreath which she placed on the old doll’s scraggly hair. And she pinned a lovely rose on Matilda’s dress.
“Now you look very nice and dear,” said Rose, as she kissed her on her battered cheek. “Good-night, Queen Matilda of the play-room. Isn’t this almost as good as being May Queen?”
And Matilda looked as if she thought it was. She seemed to be smiling with her ugly mouth. And when Rose softly shut the door of the play-room the old doll looked almost pretty,—in spite of her one eye and broken nose,—sitting there on the window seat, with Alice, the beautiful May Queen, at her feet.
CHAPTER VIII THE DARK ROOM
IN the middle of June Kenneth came down with the scarlet fever. This was very unpleasant for Kenneth, and for Kenneth’s papa and mamma, who were just making ready to move the family down to the Island for the summer. It was very hard for Rose, too; for of course she could not play with Kenneth nor even see him for fear lest she too should catch the fever. It was a terrible thing for Rose not to see Kenneth for days and weeks.
They decided to send her away into the country, to the farm where Aunt Mary and Uncle John with Rose’s cousin Charlie Carroll had gone to live. Aunt Mary said that she would be glad to play for a while that Rose was her own little girl, for poor Aunt Mary had no little girl of her own. And Charlie[67] thought that it would be great fun to have a little sister; for you see he had never had one. And that is why he did not make a very good kind of brother at first.
Rose had not been in the country long before she began to miss Kenneth more than ever,—more even than she had expected. It was all Charlie’s fault.
Charlie had his naughty days,—every one has naughty days, sometimes, until he learns better. But it happened unfortunately that Charlie’s naughtiest time came the very day after Rose arrived in the country, when she was feeling especially lonesome, and before she was acquainted with the new house and the barn and the new pets and playthings. She began to be homesick almost as soon as her father said good-by to her and went away to the train which would carry him home to Mamma and Kenneth and the city. But she was still more homesick the next morning, when she woke up and remembered that she was not going to see Kenneth all that long,[68] bright, beautiful, out-of-doorsy day. So you see she needed very much that Charlie should be extra kind and good to her.
Charlie’s mamma lay awake that morning smiling to herself to think how nice it was that Rose was going to be Charlie’s little sister for a time, and how happy he would make her in this beautiful country, showing her the new kittens, and the rabbits, and old Brindle’s little calf, and the flower-garden,—all the things which Charlie had enjoyed so much since he had come into the county to live. But that was before she knew this was Charlie’s naughty day.
From the moment when he first opened his eyes and got out of the wrong side of the bed, Charlie was in trouble, and his mother had to speak to him so many times that she was ashamed to have Rose hear.
After breakfast, when Rose cried eagerly, “Oh, Charlie, now will you show me everything?” Charlie sulked and said, “Oh, bother!” And when Rose followed him out[69] into the garden, he tried to run away from her. But Rose could run fast too, and he soon found her panting at his heels.
“What makes you run so fast, Charlie?” she asked. “I can hardly keep up with you.”
“Well, I don’t want you to keep up with me,” he answered, turning his back on her and slapping his stick at a poor sunflower. “You had better go back to the house. I don’t want to play with you.”
Rose’s eyes filled with tears and she said, “What makes you so bad to me, Charlie? I haven’t seen you for a long time, but I thought you were a nice, pleasant boy, like Kenneth. Oh, how I wish I could go back to Kenneth!”
“Go home as soon as you please,” said Charlie rudely. “I don’t want you for a sister if you are so fussy and cross.”
“I am not fussy and cross!” cried Rose indignantly. “You have been very impolite and horrid to me, and I am ashamed of you!”
Then, I am sorry to say, Charlie did a very[70] naughty thing. He pushed Rose roughly, so that she fell down and bruised her poor little knee. She tried not to cry, but the tears would come. And when she saw Charlie disappear around the corner of the house with his hands in his pockets, as if he did not care at all, she began to sob.
“I wish I had not come to the country!” she whimpered.
Now from the parlor window Charlie’s mother had seen this last naughtiness, and straightway she went after her boy, who was kicking his toe against the piazza steps.
“Charlie, you have been a very naughty boy,” she said. “You have hurt your little cousin, and I must punish you. What makes you so bad to-day? I thought you and Rose would have such pleasant times together!”
