Chapter 7

WAKING UP OUT WEST.

Dotty was wakened next morning by a variety of sounds. The mocking-bird, the canary, the hens, and Horace's guinea pig were astir, and wished their little world to be aware of it. Flyaway was dressed and running about, making herself generally useful.

Before the tired young traveller knew where she was, a little hand was busy at the door knob, and a baby voice called out,--

"Dottee, Dottee, is you waked up?"

"O, now I know where I am! This is Aunt 'Ria's house, and that little snip of a Flyaway is trying to get in. O, dear, dear, how far off I am! Prudy Parlin, I wonder if you're thinking about me?"

"Dottee! Dottee!" called the small voice again.

"O, I s'pose that baby'll stand at the door all day."

But just then the knob turned, and in rushed Flyaway out of breath.

"Good-morning, Miss Topknot," said Dotty, addressing her by one of the dove-names Horace was so fond of using.

"O, I's pitty well," replied Flyaway, dancing across the room. "I didn't sleep any till las' night. I d'eamed awtul d'eams; so I kep' awake, and wouldn't go to sleep."

And into bed climbed the little one, laying her head, with its tangled floss, right across Dotty's face.

"Dear me!" sighed Dotty, rubbing the floss out of her eyes. "Such hair! I should think _you_ wore a wig! I'm sleepy; can't you let me be?"

"You mus' wake up, Dottee! _I_ love to wake up; I can do it velly easy."

Dotty, losing her patience, moved forward, pushing Katie towards the edge of the bed.

"O, ho! what a little bedstick! I'll yole out!"

"I wish you would, Flyaway Clifford!"

No sooner said than done. Off rolled Flyaway, but alighted on her feet.

"O, my shole," cried she, scrambling in again; "I fell down backboards. O, ho!"

Such good nature was not to be resisted. Sleepy Dotty waked up and smiled in spite of herself; and next minute her persecutor was skipping down stairs.

"Glad she's gone. Now I'll put on my pretty morning dress; Aunt 'Ria hung it up in the closet. I'm going to be a little lady all the time I'm out West, and not jump off of things and tear my clothes."

Then Dotty's mind strayed to a very different subject.

"It is so queer God is in this country just the same as He is in the State of Maine! I said my prayers to Him before I started, and there He was and heard; and now He's here and hears too; I don't see how. You can't think without He sees your thoughts."

Dotty, brushing her hair, looked in the glass so intently that she did not observe her Aunt Maria, who had quietly entered the room. Mrs. Clifford was a wise woman, but she could not look into her niece's heart. She thought Dotty was admiring her own beauty in the mirror, whereas the child was not thinking of it at all.

What Mr. Beecher once said of little folks is very true:--

"Ah, well, there is a world of things in children's minds that grown-up people do not understand, though they too once were young."

Mrs. Clifford went up to Dotty and kissed her. Then the little girl was startled from her musings, and passing down stairs with her hand in Mrs. Clifford's, thought she should be perfectly happy if dear Prudy were only on the other side of her.

Everything she saw that was new or strange she had to stop and admire, thinking it was an article that could only belong out West.

"O, auntie, what is this queer little thing with doors?"

"Grace's cabinet, dear."

"Her _cabijen_," exclaimed Flyaway, darting in from the next room.

"Good morning, Dotty Dimple," said Horace: "did my Guinea pig wake you? I lost him out. What a noise he made! I wish he was in Guinea, where he came from."

Dotty had never seen a Guinea pig. It was another curiosity, which promised to be more remarkable than Phebe or Katinka. She began to think coming West was like having one long play-day. Even the dining-room was a novelty, with the swinging fan suspended over the table to keep off flies.

"I have been wondering," said Mrs. Clifford, as she urned the coffee, "how we shall amuse our little Dotty while she is here."

"Fishing," suggested Horace.

"Nutting," said Grace.

"_Prudy_ went to a _wedding_ when she was in Indiana," remarked Dotty, in a low voice.

"We will try to get up a wedding then," said Horace; "but they are a little out of fashion now."

"We have been thinking," observed Mrs. Clifford, "of a nutting excursion for to-day. How would you like it, Edward?"

"Very much," replied Mr. Parlin. "I can spend but one day with you, and I would as lief spend it nutting as in any other way."

"Only one day, Uncle Edward!" cried Grace and Horace.

"Only one day, papa!" stammered Dotty, feeling like a little kitten who _did_ have her paw on a mouse, but sees the mouse disappear down a hole.

"O, I shall leave you, my daughter. You will stay here a week or two, and meet me in Indianapolis."

Dotty was able to eat once more.

"Father, what are we to do for horses to go nutting with?" spoke up Horace. "Robin raked this part of town yesterday with a fine-tooth comb, and couldn't find anything but an old clothes' horse, and that was past travelling."

"My son!"

Mr. Clifford's face said very plainly,--

"Not so flippant, my child!"

But the only remark he made was to the effect that there were doubtless horses to be found in the city at the stables.

"What about the infant, mamma?" said Grace. "Is she to be one of the party?"

When Katie was present she was sometimes mysteriously mentioned as "the infant." It was quite an undertaking to allow her to go; but Mrs. Clifford had yielded the point an hour or two before, out of regard to Horace's feelings. She knew the nutting party would be spoiled for him if his beloved little Topknot were left out.

"Is I goin'?" asked she, when she heard the joyful news. "Yes, I'm _are_ goin' to get some horse."

"No, some pecans, you little Brown-brimmer."

Katie had a dim suspicion that she owed this pleasure to her brother's influence.

"Hollis," said she, eagerly,--"Hollis, you may have the red part o' my apple."

This sounded like the very fulness of generosity, but was a hollow mockery; for by the "red part" she only meant the skin.

Mr. Clifford had one horse, and while Robin Sherwood was going to the city for another, Mrs. Clifford made ready the lunch.

Happy Dotty walked about, twirling a lock of her front hair, and watched Katinka cleaning the already nice paint, spilling here and there "little drops of water, little grains of sand." She also observed the solemn yet dextrous manner in which Phebe washed the breakfast dishes, and looked on with peculiar interest as Aunt Maria filled the basket.

First there were custards to be baked in little cups and freckled with nutmeg, to please Uncle Edward. Then there was a quantity of eggs to be boiled hard. As Mrs. Clifford dropped these one by one into a kettle of water, Katie ran to the back door, and cried out to the noisy hens,--

"Stop cacklerin', chickie; we've got 'em."

Then, fearing she had not made herself understood, she added,--

"We've found your _aigs_, chickie; they was ror, but we's goin' to bake 'em."

Dotty was impressed with the beauty of the picnic basket and the delicacy of the food. Everything she saw was rose-colored to-day.

"O, Aunt 'Ria, I should think you'd like to live out West! Such splendid fruit cake!"

"I saw Fibby and my mamma make that," said Flyaway, "out o' cindamon and little clovers."

"Clovers in cake?"

"Not red and white clovers; them little bitter kinds you know," added the child, with a wry face.

There were four for each carriage. Dotty rode with her father, Mrs. Clifford, and Katie. Little Flyaway looked at the hired phaeton with contempt.

"It hasn't any cap on, like my papa's," said she; but she was prevailed upon to ride in it because her mamma did.

Horace went with his father and the "cup and saucer," as he called Grace and Cassy. He was in a state of irritation because his idolized Topknot was in the other carriage.

"You can't separate that cup and saucer," growled he to himself. "They'll sit and talk privacy, I suppose; and I might have had Brown-brimmer if it hadn't been for Cassy."