Chapter 14

NAMING THE PETS.

"Oh, dear! oh, dear! oh, _dear_! They's sech a drefful many things to do, and I doesn't see how we's ever going to do all of them, not ever, ever at all!"

"Not ever, ever at all!"

Mary and Wilhelmina stood still and looked at each other, then burst into a merry laugh. The great bell in the belfry high up over the roof of the convent had just stopped ringing to spread the news that a new school year was about to begin; and the two girls, with two book carriers apiece, were on their way across the lawn to the little gate in the low wall--the little gate, the hinges of which would have no chance now to rust.

"Forever more! What have you children to do that can't just as well be left undone, I should like to know? Even Mary and I don't expect to do any real work to-day. We just have to show up in the study hall and in our classroom and see our music teacher and find out where the lessons are for to-morrow. But we don't have to study or recite this morning; and the chances are, we won't have to go back at all this afternoon. The boarders will be unpacking their trunks, but I know Sister will let me off until Mother has gone. But just what you are groaning about, Berta, is more than I can see."

"Why, Willy-mean, they's ever and ever so many things we must do, and Jack and Dick won't be here to-morrow to help us, you know, 'cause Aunt Etta said she's going to take them home early, early in the morning-time 'mejetly after breakfus."

"Then I think it is too bad that you should ask them to work on the very last day of their visit. I am sure they did quite enough of that in the city. You ought to play all day and have a jolly time."

"Oh, we don't mind working, Mary; but there's one thing it seems to me we oughtn't to do, and that's sweep all the gravel off the paths and driveway. I told Berta everybody in the country has walks like that; but she thinks the kind you had in the city are nicer, and that if we sweep the little white stones off, we'll find that kind under them."

"No, no, you wouldn't, Berta; and Father won't be one bit pleased if you spoil the walks that way. And Jerry--well, I don't know what Jerry would think of little girls who would do such a thing after all the trouble he has taken to roll them so nice and smooth."

"But--but, Mary, when we fall ourselfs down, we scratch our poor little hands and knees on those old stones, so we do."

"Then play on the grass where you can't hurt yourselves."

"And who would expect two, great, big girls like you to be tumbling around in such style anyway. Why, even Jack hardly ever falls now, do you, honey?"

"I too big, Willie."

"Of course you are."

"W----ell,--but, Willy-mean, we has _ever_ so many other things we jes' _must_ do afore Dick and Jack go, 'cause Beth and I can't possiglee do ev'y single one all by our own selfs. For instinct, we has to think names for the two little kitties Patrick gave us, and for the bunnies and the teapots and the squirrels and all the birdies in the big cage and----"

"All 'cept Polly. She has her own name. She's all the time saying, 'Pretty Polly,' and 'Polly wants a cracker,' and 'Polly's a fine bird,' and all things same as that," explained Beth.

"You see, Willy-mean, that's the why I said we has so much to do to-day. Even if Dick and Jack help us, I don't see how we can possiglee think names for ev'ything."

"Then just give the names that you can think of easily, and Wilhelmina and I shall help you when we come home. We must run now, or we shall be late for school, and that wouldn't do at all on the very first morning."

"We's going all the way to the steps with you, Mary."

"But Mother said only to the gate, Beth. Oh, I know what I wish you would do. Ask Mother to let you come over about eleven o'clock. I want the girls to see what fine little brothers Wilhelmina has."

"And I want them to see what dear little sisters Mary has," laughed Wilhelmina.

"And we shall take you to the Kindergarten, and perhaps Sister Benigna will let Dorothy come home with us for the afternoon."

"Oh, goody, goody, good----_ee_! We'll have another tea party, so we will!"

"Ask Jerry for some fruit and flowers to bring to Aunt Mary--that is, if you have time to help him gather them."

"Oh, yes, Mary, we has plenty of time, _plenty_!" And the four raced back toward the house, leaving the two girls shaking with laughter.

The little ones hurried around to the back porch, where the kittens were asleep in a basket. They knelt around it, trying to decide on proper names for these new pets.

"Isn't they jes' too cute for nennything! The yellow one is Beth's, and the black one is mine. Why, Beth, now we has the three little kittens jes' like the ones that lost their mittens. Doesn't you 'member, honey?"

"They look like little balls of fur, so they does. I jes' can't think of a nice 'nuff name for mine. Can't you 'member us of some nice kitty names, Dick? Willy-mean helped us name Fluff."

"Seems to me I ought to know some. The big grey cat that lives in our barn to catch the mice is named Tabby."

"Oh, oh! I isn't going to let my little kitty live in _our_ barn. The mice might bite her, so they might. And I isn't going into our barn again my own self, too, not ever, ever at all."

"'Count of the mice? Why, Beth, they'll run a mile when they hear you coming."

But Beth closed her lips very firmly and shook her soft, little, yellow curls.

"Here's Fluff, and I'se 'fraid she doesn't like our new little kitties so very well. Willy-mean says she's----I doesn't quite 'member that name Willy-mean said; does you, Beth?"

"N----no, Berta; but it means 'zactly the same as some little folkses is when they get a nice new little sister or brother. They's so selfish that they doesn't want the new little baby not ever, ever at all, 'cause they's 'fraid ev'ybody might love it the best."

"'M, 'm 'm! How puffeckly drefful! I wish we had a sweet little baby brother to love and rock in a cradle and sing nice songs to 'stead of jes' dollies what can't hear you. In course, we can be-tend they hear us, but that's not jes' 'zactly the same, you know, Dick."

"We need another boy in our family, too, Phil says, so we can have a baseball nine. Willie's almost as good as a boy, though. She's a better catch than Jack, anyway, and she's a pretty good batter; but she can't pitch a little bit. Harry says her in curves are punk."

Beth sighed deeply. "We doesn't know what any of those names mean, Dick. Won't you please 'splain them to us? Seems to me, Berta, they's a drefful many things we has to learn. Dick knows most ev'ything they is, I'se quite sure."

"Course I don't, Beth. I don't know all my A, B, C's yet. If you had some brothers, you'd have to play baseball with them, and then you'd know as much as I do. We'll have a game this afternoon when Mary and Willie are here. I saw a bat in the barn."

"Oh, oh! Not one of those horrid things we saw flying around last evening-time!"

Dick chuckled. "I should say not. How'd you 'spect to hit a ball with that thing, Beth? I s'pose you haven't a baseball. Maybe Tom has one."

"But----but isn't we going to name the amanals, Dick?"

"That's so, Berta, I forgot. Let me see. Fluff----Fluff----rough----tough----snuff----"

"I doesn't think those are very nice names----"

"Wait a minute, Beth. Puff----muff----buff----I say, Berta, how would Muff do for yours? You said it looks like a ball of fur, and muffs are made of fur, aren't they? The one Uncle Frank and Mary gave Willie last Christmas was."

"That's jes' a lovely name, Dick!"

"And how would you like Puff for yours, Beth? or Buff? That means a kind of a yellow color like the suit I wore yesterday, and your kitten is yellow."

"Let's call it both names, Beth--something like Willy-mean. We'll say Puffy-buff, and then our kitties will be Fluff and Muff and Puffy-buff; and I'se quite sure they isn't nenny nicer kitty names in the whole world. Now, we'll go name the teapots," and Berta led the way around to the west side of the house in search of the peacocks.

"I know a name for that great big one with his tail all spread out. Let's call him King Cole."

"Beth! That's jes' lovely! And the one over there by the wall ought to be a queen. Can't nennybody 'member a queen's name?"

"'The queen was in the kitchen, eating bread and honey,' and 'The queen of hearts, she made some tarts, all on a summer day,' are all the queens I can think of just now." Dick puckered his forehead, trying to remember some other royal ladies.

"They was a queen in that fairy story Mary told us yesterday. Doesn't you 'member, Berta?"

"Oh, yes. Queen Mab. That's a nice name."

"Then the two young birds ought to be a prince and a princess."

"But they's two more teapots to name first, Dick, before we begin with the birds and squirrels and ev'ything same as that."

"But what do you think teapots are----oh, I say, Beth, why don't you call them right? Teapots are things you make tea in." The moment he had spoken, Dick was sorry. He had never teased the little girls about their mistakes; but it was too much for him when he found himself making the same ones. In dismay, he saw Beth's lips begin to quiver.

"But----but----I thinked----that was what ev'ybody----called them, Dick."

Berta's dark eyes flashed, and putting her arms around her sister, she began, "And that's jes' 'zactly what I thinked, too, and I said it first that afternoon-time when we came to see Bird-a-Lea, and ev'ybody makes 'stakes sometimes, Daddy says, and I thinked they's two kinds of teapots 'zactly the same as you said they's a bat that flies around and a bat that you hit a ball with, and----and----and I doesn't think it's very p'lite for you to laugh at our 'stakes, so I doesn't."

"Berta! why, _Berta_! Is that the way my little girl speaks to a guest?"

"I----I guess I wasn't a very p'lite guest, Aunt 'Lisbeth. I----I laughed at something Beth said and 'most made her cry; and Mother says a gentleman never makes a lady cry. But she didn't cry," Dick hastened to add. "They're not cry babies like some of my girl cousins are."

This praise, with his manly way of taking all the blame, quite softened Berta's heart.

"Please 'scuse me for saying such drefful things, Dick, and you can laugh at our 'stakes all you want to. Mother, what _does_ you think Beth and I called those amanals over there? Teapots! _teapots_! Oh, my dear! Wasn't that jes' too funny! Wasn't that jes' too funny for nennything!" Berta sank on the steps, and even Beth had to join in her merry laugh, while her mother agreed with her: "So funny, dear, that I would be very much surprised if Dick and Jack, too, did not laugh at you. And it is better to speak of those animals as birds. Say the name after me."

When they had repeated it several times, Berta added, "But we's going to call them other names, Mother,----King Cole and Queen Mab for the father and mother birds; and _can_ you 'member us of a prince and princess for the chillun birds?"

"The young birds, dear. A prince and princess? So you wish to have a royal family, do you? Let me see. What would you think of Prince Charming and Princess Winsome?"

"They're great, Aunt 'Lisbeth!"

"Jes' beauty, Mother!" And the twins danced about in great glee.

"It is time to find Jerry if you wish to take Aunt Mary some fruit and flowers. Come, we shall see whether he is in the garden."

Promptly at eleven o'clock, the four climbed the high front steps at the convent, the little girls with great bundles of flowers, the boys with a basket of peaches and grapes between them. Mother Madeline, busy as she was, took them to her office and gave each of them a pretty holy picture and a little medal, and then sent for Mary and Wilhelmina to look after them. Such a time as the girls made over them. Those who had been with Mary during the lonely years when she had been separated from her little sisters, crowded around the twins in particular, until Mary, fearing that the boys might be hurt, hurried the four away to the Kindergarten. Then the bell rang for dismissal, and with little Dorothy among them, they romped home to luncheon.