Part 4

"I think we can find some easy thing for you both to do," said Miss Ashton, kindly. "But remember, dear children, what you promise, you must perform. If you undertake this work, you must have it finished at the end of the time I have named,--two weeks. I do not _ask_ you to do it, for the older girls are willing to do all the work; but I thought it might be a pleasure to you to help."

"Oh, yes! indeed it will, Miss Ashton," said Lily, "and I'd like to have two clothes to make. Mamma says I can sew pretty well fur such a little girl, and Nora will show me how."

"One garment will be enough for you, Lily," said Miss Ashton; "if you finish that in time, it is all we shall need."

"You need not be afraid I won't have it done in time, Miss Ashton," said Lily. "I don't put off any more, nor be unpunctual either. I've been early at school every morning this week,"--this was Tuesday,--"and mamma said I was beginning to improve. I couldn't help it very well, I had such a horrid lesson about an old beggar-woman who was nothing but a thief; and then Maggie and Bessie and Belle made me lovely proverb pictures about the consequences of procrastination, and Maggie wrote a splendid poem, so I ought to learn better with all that."

"I think so," said Miss Ashton; "but, by the way, I wonder if Maggie and Bessie would not like to join us in this work. They always take such an interest in all that goes on among us here that perhaps they would be pleased if we offered to let them help."

"Yes, I know they would," cried Belle, always ready to speak in praise of her beloved little playmates. "I know they would. Maggie and Bessie are very full of good works; and they always like to do what we do, if they can, too."

"Very well," said Miss Ashton. "You can ask them when you see them, Belle; and if they would like to help us, tell them to come in to-morrow, at the close of school. You can all bring me word then if your parents are willing for you to undertake this work, and I will give each one a piece to take home."

The next morning each little girl brought word that she had received permission to take home and make such a garment as Miss Ashton should see fit to give her; and they had all been promised help and teaching by their mammas or other friends.

The curiosity and interest of the class having been much excited by Lily's glowing account of the "proverb picture" and poem furnished her by Maggie, Bessie, and Belle, she had been persuaded to bring them with her; and being punctual for the third morning, she exhibited them before school was opened, to the great satisfaction and delight of the other children. They were also displayed to Miss Ashton.

"Maggie is quite a Murphy, isn't she, Miss Ashton?" said Lily.

"A what, dear?" asked the young lady, much puzzled.

"A Murphy--a M-m-ur-phy," said Lily, putting severe and long emphasis on the word, as she saw that her teacher did not yet understand. "Don't you know what a Murphy is, Miss Ashton? It means some one very wise and good, who teaches right things."

"Oh!" said Miss Ashton, smiling, as light broke in upon her; "you mean a Mentor, do you not, Lily?"

"Oh, yes, that's it," said Lily; "but I thought it was Murphy. But I think Murphy is just as pretty a name as Mentor."

"But people would understand your meaning better if you put the right name, Lily," said Miss Ashton, as she rang the bell for silence.

Maggie and Bessie had told Belle that they would be very glad to join in the work of making clothes for the poor little orphans; and accordingly, when school was over and word was brought that they were below, she was sent to bring them up to the school-room. Places were soon found for them among their former school-mates, who were all delighted to see them; and, as Bessie said, "it seemed quite as if they were all young again."

Then Miss Ashton had a large basket of work brought in, and took from it a number of little garments cut out, but not made, which she laid upon the table before her.

"I have six skirts and six aprons here," she said, "and three calico bags, which our little orphans must have to hold their lesson-books. I think we had better give the bags to those who are the youngest, or the least accustomed to sewing,--Bessie, Belle, and Mabel. Then the rest may choose, so far as you can, whether you will take a petticoat or an apron; but as there is more work upon the petticoats than upon the aprons, I shall think it wiser for those who are not very industrious and persevering to take the latter, so that they may be sure to finish their work. Or perhaps the older ones, Nellie, Maggie, Grace, and Dora, might take the skirts, and let the other five take aprons. As I said yesterday, the young ladies in the other room will finish whatever you leave."

All were satisfied with this arrangement but two.

"Miss Ashton," said Nellie Ransom, in rather a hesitating voice, as though she thought she might be drawing upon herself the disapproval of her classmates,--"Miss Ashton, I think perhaps I had better only take an apron. I do not sew very fast, and I might not have a skirt done in time; and I would rather take the apron, so that I may be sure to finish it."

"Pooh!" said Lily, "I should think any one might have a petticoat done in two weeks! No, not pooh, either, Nellie, I forgot that was not courteous; but then I should think you'd have plenty of time to make the skirt, and I'm going to take one 'stead of the apron, if Miss Ashton will let me."

"I will let you," said her teacher. "I told you you should take what you pleased; but, Lily, I think Nellie is a wise little girl not to undertake more than she feels _sure_ she can do, and you would do well to follow her example. You do not like steady work, you know, Lily, and I should not wish the petticoat to be brought back to me half finished."

"Oh, I'd never do that!" exclaimed Lily. "I see, Miss Ashton, you think it _probalal_ that Nellie and I will be the hare and the tortoise,--Nellie the tortoise and I the hare; but we'll be two tortoises, won't we, Nellie? And please let me have the petticoat, Miss Ashton. I'll be sure, oh, _sure_ to have it finished!"

Miss Ashton did as she was asked, and handed Lily the skirt; but she looked as if she were not quite so sure that Lily would perform all she promised; and though she smiled as she gave the parcel to the little girl, she shook her head doubtfully, and said,--

"Be careful, Lily, and do not put off till to morrow the task you should do to-day."

"No, ma'am," answered Lily, confidently, "I am quite cured of that. I wish you'd let me have two just to see how soon I will have them finished."

"If you finish the petticoat at the end of ten days, you shall have some other thing to make," said Miss Ashton, rather gravely. "Nellie, my dear, here is your apron."

The work was very neatly cut out and basted; prepared so that the little girls might not find it difficult to do, or give more trouble than was actually necessary to their friends at home; and each one opened her parcel and examined it with great satisfaction after they were dismissed.

"I expect Nellie's will be sewed the best, 'cause she takes so much pains with every thing she does," said Bessie. "Hers and Dora's will be, for Dora is industrious too, and has a great deal of perseverance."

"I think mine will be the best," said Gracie, "for I sew very nicely. Mrs. Bradish told mamma she never saw a child of my age sew so neatly."

"Proudy!" said Lily, "you always think you do every thing better than anybody else; and you always go and tell when any one makes you a compliment. Gracie, you do grow conceiteder and conceiteder every day. Pretty soon, we won't be able to stand you at all."

"Why, Lily!" said Belle, "you're a dreadful anti-politer this morning."

"I don't care," said Lily; "Gracie does make me so mad. Yes, I do care about being called an anti-politer too," she added on second thoughts; "but, Gracie, I don't believe your work will be the best. I think like Bessie, that Nellie's will be, 'cause she sews so nicely; and so does Maggie."

"Anyhow mine will be done, and yours won't, I know," retorted Gracie, who always resented very strongly the idea that any other child could do as well or better than herself. "You always put off and procrastinate, so that you never have any thing ready at the right time."

"Well, I'm not going to do so any more," said Lily; "and, anyhow, I'd rather be Pro than Proudy. It's very, very naughty to be proud, and it's only a--a--well, an inconvenient habit to procrastinate. And I'm pretty well cured of it now. Don't you be afraid my petticoat won't be done; and don't let's be cross about it any more, Gracie."

Peace was restored by her last words; but here were Lily's snares and stumbling-blocks. Firstly, that she had too much confidence in her own strength, and was too sure that she could cure herself of this troublesome habit if she only chose to do so; secondly, that she hardly looked upon it as a fault at all, and did not think it of much consequence, except just at the moment when it had brought some great annoyance upon herself or others.

Lily was gay, light-hearted, and sweet-tempered, and trouble or disappointment seldom oppressed her spirits long,--all good things and great blessings in their proper times and places; but she sometimes let this run into carelessness, and was often disposed to make too light of her faults and their consequences. She certainly had warning and help enough in this case, if that were all she needed.

She, Maggie and Bessie, Belle and Mabel all took the same way homeward; and just before they parted, Maggie said,--

"I have an idea! Would it not be a good plan for us five to have a little sewing meeting at our house for these clothes, if mamma has no objections? And it will seem to help us along, and not let it be so stupid; for I do hate to sew."

The other children agreed that it would be a capital arrangement; and Maggie, turning to Bessie, asked if she thought mamma would be willing.

"For we better not make too many plans about it till we know what mamma would say," said Maggie, "or we might 'live in hope only to die in despair.'"

Bessie thought mamma would be quite willing, but agreed with Maggie that it would be better not to build up too many arrangements on this till they knew what she had to say.

"I would like to have asked all the class," said Maggie, "but I do not think mamma wants a great many children about now; because grandmamma's house is being painted, and she and Aunt Annie and Uncle Ruthven and Aunt Bessie are all staying with us, and it makes a pretty large family,--a lovely large one," she added, with a nod of satisfaction in the present size of the household.

"We'll ask mamma if we can have a meeting once a week till our things are all finished," said Bessie; "and we can sew on them between times, and show each other how much we have done. And it may be a little help to you in not putting off, Lily," she said, rather anxiously. "I would be so sorry if your petticoat was not finished."

"Oh, never fear," said Lily; "you are all so afraid about me; and I tell you, I'm not going to put off any more."

"I am sorry, my daughter, that you took the petticoat instead of the apron," said Mrs. Norris, when Lily reached home and told her story of the morning's business. "There would have been more hope of your finishing the apron, with your unsteady ways about work and duties."

"It is not a duty for me to make this, is it, mamma?" asked Lily, unrolling the parcel and holding up the skirt.

"Yes, it is a duty for you to do that which you have promised to do, is it not?"

"Yes, mamma; but I need not have promised if I did not choose."

"No, you need not; but now that you have undertaken it of your own free will, that makes it all the more a duty for you to finish it in time. Will you sew on it a little while this afternoon, after you have had your lunch?"

"No, mamma, I think not," said Lily. "Maggie and Bessie are going to ask their mamma if they can have us for a sewing meeting at their house, and I'll wait and see what they say. It will be fun."

Mrs. Norris sighed as Lily gleefully rolled up her work and tossed it upon the table. This was not a very good beginning.

"Put it away in the large work-box, dear," she said.

"Presently, mamma; I'm just going to tell Nora about it."

"No, Lily, put it away at once. And remember, my darling, that I shall not allow Nora to finish it for you if you fall behindhand through your own fault."

"Oh, no, mamma," said Lily, as she obeyed her mother's order; "but I would have put it away in a minute or two."

VI.

_BUT NOT PERFORMING._

You will readily believe that Lily's "by and by" was long in coming, as it had often been before; and this although her mamma and nurse both invited her more than once to come and begin her petticoat.

The evening brought a note from Maggie Bradford, which was as follows:--

"DEAR LILY,--Mamma says we may have the sewing meeting, and Aunt Annie says she will take care of it up in her room, which is very kind of her; do you not think so? When Baby Annie heard us talking about it, she said, "Me too;" and we told her she should come if she would be good. Mamma says she is afraid she will be a disturbance, but she is so cunning that Bessie and I could not bear to tell her no; and we will be very industrious, even if baby is funny. We make you a life-member of our society for two weeks, till we have the clothes all finished; and we will have a meeting every Thursday afternoon. Come at three o'clock; and Aunt Annie will tell us stories or read to us till four, while we sew, and then we will put away our work and play.

"Yours respectfully and affectionately,

"MAGGIE STANTON BRADFORD.

"P. S. Bessie says of course you'd never think of such a thing as bringing 'Pro' to the meeting. We wouldn't believe it of you; but if you did, we should 'speed the parting guest,' which means to turn him out as quick as you can."

"Maggie knows so many proverbs and wise speeches, and always knows how to make a good use of them," said Lily, when Tom finished reading this epistle to her, she having been in too much haste to try to spell it out for herself. "Now, Tom, what are you laughing at?"

"Why, I'm sure that is a good joke of Maggie's, and well worth being amused at," said Tom.

"Oh, yes," said Lily, "she is very smart, and very funny too. I'm so glad we are going to have the sewing meeting; and, indeed, I don't take 'Pro' with me."

"I am afraid he has paid us a visit this afternoon, Lily," said Mrs. Norris.

"Why, no, dear mamma; at least, I only thought I would wait till I heard what we were going to do at the meeting, and not begin before them. It is nicer to begin all together."

"And I think you will find that all the other children have commenced their work to-day," said Mrs. Norris. "But we shall see."

Lily's mamma was nearly as well pleased as her little daughter at the arrangement she had made with the Bradford children, for she hoped that their example, and the wish to keep pace with them, might help Lily to conquer her besetting fault in this instance at least; and that shame might keep her from falling behindhand with her work from week to week.

The sewing meeting being a novelty, and Lily very anxious to "see what it would be like," she was willing to be made ready in good time the next day; and actually arrived at the Bradfords' house eight minutes before three o'clock, which she, as well as the other children, took to be a decided sign of improvement in the punctuality line.

Belle was there, but not Mabel, for the latter had taken a very bad cold, and could not come out.

The little girls were soon all settled in Aunt Annie's room, each with her work; but Lily was rather dismayed, and quite ashamed, to find her mother's words proved true, and that each one of the other three children had not only commenced her work, but had completed quite a good piece upon it. Why, there was a whole seam and part of another done upon Maggie's petticoat; and she had not yet set the first stitch in hers!

"Why! haven't you done any on yours yet?" asked Bessie, in amazement. "Why didn't you begin it, Lily?"

"I thought to-day would be time enough," said Lily, rather sheepishly. "I'm sorry now I didn't begin it."

"But it's too late to be sorry now," said Bessie, gravely shaking her head. "Procrastination has been robbing Time again, Lily."

"Never mind, I'll sew very fast to-day," was Lily's answer.

As soon as she had the little girls all busy at their work, Aunt Annie took up a book, and prepared to read a story to them.

But scarcely had she commenced when the door, which stood ajar, was pushed open; and "Tootins" walked in, with an air which seemed to say she was quite sure of her welcome.

And who was "Tootins"? you will say. A kitten?

Well, I believe she was a kind of two-footed kitten; at least, she was as full of play and frolic and merry ways as any four-footed little puss that ever called old cat mother. As fond of being cuddled and petted now and then, too.

"Tootins" was the dearest, cunningest, most fascinating little two-year-old bit of mischief that ever found out she had ten fingers, and the number of uses they could be put to.

A mischief! I should think she was! Such restless, busy little fingers! "Mademoiselle Touche-à-tout" Uncle Ruthven named her. Such an inquisitive little mind! Such never-tiring, pattering little feet! Such a sweet voice, and such a crooked, cunning tongue!

When you saw her, you wanted to catch her up, and pet and hug her, she was so fair and round and dimpled; but that did not always suit Miss "Tootins." She thought her two small feet were made to be used, and she did not choose that they should be deprived of any of their privileges, except by her own free will. So she generally struggled to be put down again; and, dear me! how sorry you were to let her go!

But sometimes, as I have said, she wanted to be cuddled and petted; and then she would nestle to you, so dear and sweet, with her sunny head upon your arm, her great starry eyes fastened upon your face, while you talked baby-talk to her, or told her simple verses and stories. Understand you, do you ask? Indeed, she understood every thing you said; more than you could have believed possible.

Pure pink and white skin; eyes blue as heaven; golden hair; yes, real golden hair, for when the sunlight fell upon her curls, they looked like threads of burning gold; shoulders and hands and arms that looked as if they were only made to be kissed; a gurgling, rippling laugh; and oh, such cunning, wheedling ways! That is our "Tootins;" otherwise, Baby Annie. _Our_ "Tootins," did I say? Well, I suppose I must call her Mrs. Bradford's "Tootins;" but then, you see, I have drawn her picture from life, and, having before my eyes just such a pet and darling of my own, it came very natural to say "our Tootins."

But how did she come by such a funny name? you will ask again.

Well, that was a name her little brother Frankie had given her when she was a tiny baby; no one knew why he did it, but he did, and he always called her by it; and of late, if any one called her by any other name, he always pretended he did not know of whom they spoke. And so "Tootins" had come to be a sort of twin pet name with "Baby," and little Annie was called as much by one as by the other.

As I have said, she came in as if quite assured of her welcome, for Baby Annie was accustomed to have her society courted, and rather imagined she was conferring a favor when she bestowed it upon her friends. Moreover, she had been promised that she should join the others on this occasion, why or with what purpose she did not understand; but she knew that her sisters had talked of Belle and Lily coming. She was fond of Belle and Lily, and had demanded a share in their company, and here they were now. This she knew very well, and so she came in, followed by old nurse, who had her own doubts as to whether baby would be considered a serviceable member of the sewing circle.

But "Tootins'" expectations proved well-founded, for she was greeted with exclamations of pleasure; and after submitting to the necessary amount of hugging and kissing, she was accommodated with a bench at Aunt Annie's feet, and mammy told that she might leave her.

But was it really possible that any one thought baby was going to sit still on that footstool? If so, she soon undeceived them; and the busy little fingers were, as usual, searching about for what mischief they could find to do.

First, she overturned Maggie's workbox, and having contrived, during the picking up of the contents, secretly to possess herself of the eyelet-piercer, was presently discovered boring holes in her own tiny shoe. The next thing which took her fancy was a small vase of flowers, which being within her reach was dragged over, the water spilled upon the floor and the flowers scattered, before Aunt Annie could prevent it. Happily, the vase was not broken, for which Miss Baby took great credit to herself, declaring over and over again that she was "dood,"--little Pharisee that she was.

By the time that this disturbance was over, order restored, and the members of the sewing society settled once more in their places, baby had retired into privacy behind the window curtain; and, being suspiciously quiet, Aunt Annie thought proper to inquire into her occupation, when she was discovered industriously taking pins from a pin-cushion, and sticking them into the carpet.

"Oh, what a mischievous, naughty little girl!" said Aunt Annie. "Shall I call mammy to take you away?"

"No, 'deed, Nan," was the answer; "Nan" being baby's name for Aunt Annie.

"Will you be good and quiet then?"

"'Es 'deed," said baby, resigning the pin-cushion into Aunt Annie's hands, and trotting off in search of fresh pastures.

A large trunk was in the room, the lid standing open; and Miss Stanton had already called baby three or four times from its dangerous neighborhood. But the straps which kept the lid from falling back seemed to have a peculiar attraction for the little one; and once more she went over to the corner where it was placed, and, taking hold of one of these straps, would in another moment have crushed both tiny hands by pulling the whole weight of the lid upon them, had not Maggie sprung up and caught it just in time.

"You had better call nurse to take her away, Maggie; she is too troublesome, and we shall accomplish nothing while she is here," said her aunt, now really vexed. But when she heard this, Baby Annie put up such a grieved lip and looked so piteous that the other children all pleaded for her; and Miss Stanton said she would try her once more.

"Shall Aunt Annie tell you a pretty story?" she asked, seating the little mischief in the corner of the sofa, where she would be out of harm's way so long as she could be persuaded to remain there.

Baby assented eagerly, for she always liked a story; and Aunt Annie began, the little one listening intently, with hands quietly folded in her lap, and her great blue eyes fixed on her aunt's face.