Part 6

She sprang out of bed. The little lady had fallen asleep in the tiny white rocking-chair on the other side of Tiny’s bed. She looked so sweet in her rose kimono with a sweet smile on her lips, that Tiny hadn’t the heart to waken her.

“How tired she must be,” thought Tiny. “I’ll find out where the fire is first.”

She slipped into her clothes, and was soon out-of-doors. She saw immediately where the fire was--over on the next avenue, where smoke and flame were coming out of the roof of a building.

_Tiny Discovers a Fire_

“Oh, oh,” thought Tiny, “what shall I do? I know!” as she spied the pony in the stable where Martin had put him the night before. “I’ll ride over to the fire-house and tell them, and then I’ll ride to the house and warn the people.”

“Do your best, Love Trot,” she whispered to the dappled pony.

He pricked up his ears, and picked up his feet, and in no time to speak of Tiny was at the fire-house.

Just as she reached the door, a big dog (at least it seemed big to Tiny, for it was almost the size of Love Trot) came around the corner of the building. He raised up his head and barked as he ran toward her.

Tiny was so scared that she quickly jumped on the pony and was going to ride away, when a window of the fire-house opened and a man called out:

“Don’t be afraid, little girl, that’s Big Jim, the fire dog. He helps with all the fires. He won’t bite you. Lie down, Jim.”

Jim spread himself down at the pony’s side, wagged his tail, and looked up at Tiny with big brown eyes which seemed to say he was sorry he frightened her.

She soon explained her errand and was riding at full speed to the house that was on fire.

Down the street clanged the engine drawn by the beautiful little fire horses. Then came the hose-wagon, and then all the firemen with the ladders, and Big Jim, who was riding as though he were the most important member of the fire company.

Meanwhile, the little lady awoke. She sniffed the air and opened her eyes.

“Tiny,” she said, “how are you, dear? It seems to me I smell smoke. Doesn’t it to you?”

She looked at the bed.

“Where has the child gone?” she cried. “All her clothes are gone, too!”

“Martin! Martin!” she called. “Martin, get right up, and go to the police station in the town hall. Tiny has run away--has run away again!”

“All right, Mother,” answered Martin from his room. “I’m already dressed, I’ll ride the pony right over there.” But Trot was gone, and Martin ran all the way.

“Why, why didn’t you take your automobile and chase after her?” asked the policeman when Martin told him the story. “That’s the best thing to do now. I’d go help you--but I’m needed at the fire. You’d better start right away, you don’t want to lose any time.”

“Oh, yes,” answered Martin, “I know. I know. I’ll go right home and take out the car--but where do you think I had better chase to first?”

“Inquire of the first person you meet,” called out the policeman.

Martin and his mother were soon in the car, but there were few people on the street, as nearly all had gone to the fire.

“Drive on a way,” said the distracted little lady. “Drive anywhere. It’s better than sitting still.”

They hadn’t gone very far before they saw Tiny riding Trot toward them.

“Were you worried?” she called, hailing them from a distance. “I went to the fire-house to warn them of the fire.” She explained it all to them as she came up to the car; how she wakened, and smelled the smoke, and how she didn’t like to waken the little lady, and how she saw Trot fastened in the stable, and how she rode him to the fire-house.

“Dear, dear girlie,” said the little lady. “How brave you are! I’m so glad you didn’t run away again.”

“I never ran away,” answered Tiny. “I never, never ran away!”

“We know you did once, dear,” said the little lady; “but we’re trying to forget that.”

XIX

TINY HAS MORE ADVENTURES

“IT seems to me,” said the little lady, a few days after the fire, “that it would be nice for you to start in school, Tiny dear. I met Miss Spectacles yesterday, and she asked me whether I was not going to send you soon. ‘I don’t want the truant officer to inquire into the case,’ she explained.”

“Oh, nothing could please me better!” exclaimed Tiny. “I love you dearly, but it would just be splendid to know some children.”

Martin and the little lady took Tiny in the automobile to the schoolhouse, which was the most delightful school building Tiny could imagine. It stood on the center of a green lawn. All kinds of swings and games were arranged in the playgrounds. The little lady introduced Tiny to her teacher.

“I’m glad to have so brave a child under my care,” smiled Miss Spectacles, “for I’ve heard all about Tiny and the fire.”

Tiny blushed and stood on one foot. “It didn’t seem very brave to me,” she said, “but I’m glad you think you’ll like me.”

After the little lady had gone, the teacher showed Tiny to a desk and gave her lesson-books. Tiny studied the lessons well, and when recess-time came was quite ready for play.

The children stared at her a good deal, for no doubt they too had heard about the fire, and many had seen her on her pony; but she was so friendly in her manner that the girls soon overcame their shyness and began to talk with her.

There was one particularly pretty girl who was especially nice to Tiny, and gave her half her apple to eat. There was another little girl whose mother combed her hair in one braid at the back of her head. Just as she started to talk with Tiny, one of the boys came along, and pulled the little girl’s hair.

“Hello, Piggy,” he said. “Hello, Piggy. Piggy-wiggy, Piggy-wiggy.”

“Oh, dear,” said the little girl, “I do wish they wouldn’t call me names.”

“For shame!” Tiny called to the boy. “It is dreadfully rude for you to call names. I won’t like you one bit if you call names.”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the boy. “I don’t care! Piggy-wiggy wears a pig-tail.”

“Never mind, dear,” said Tiny. “I believe I can make him stop.”

Then the bell rang.

After school Tiny went to the boy. “Listen,” she said, “what’ll you take to stop calling names?”

“What’ll I take?” repeated the boy.

“Yes,” said Tiny, “will you promise to stop if I give you ten cents?”

“Nope,” said the boy. “It’s too much fun.”

“Will you take a quarter?”

“Nope.”

“Well,” said Tiny, “that’s all I have. I spent all the rest of my money for ice cream and cake.”

“Say,” said the boy, “are you offering for honest?”

“Certainly,” said Tiny.

“Well, then, I’ll take a ride on your pony to stop. How about that?”

“Oh--” began Tiny, “I----”

“I’ll always call her Piggy if you don’t,” said the boy.

“How far?” asked Tiny.

“Far’s I want to go,” answered the boy.

“I’ll let you know to-morrow,” said Tiny, for that was the last thing she wanted to pay, and she was worried.

“I’m afraid school doesn’t agree with our Tiny,” said the little lady to Martin that evening, “she is so quiet.”

Tiny, who was playing the pretty white piano, turned.

“I was thinking, dear lady,” she said, and she told of Piggy-wiggy.

“Humph,” said Martin. “That’s easy. Let me know who that fellow is and I’ll stop him.”

“Can’t you manage better than that, son?” asked his mother. “Why not let the boy ride Trot when you and Tiny are nearby in the car, and can see that he is treated right?”

“That’s a splendid idea,” cried Tiny, kissing the little lady. “Will you, Martin? I know the boy is just crazy to ride the pony.”

So a plan was agreed upon, and the boy did have a ride on Love Trot, and he did stop calling the little girl names, and Tiny had the joy of knowing she had made two people happy.

_Tiny Saves a Baby’s Life_

“Tiny,” said the little lady after school the next day, “don’t you want to run over to the grocery shop and get some sugar for the pudding?”

“Indeed I do,” laughed Tiny; “there’s nothing I like better than pudding, you know.”

The grocerman was very pleasant and Tiny noticed he gave her extra good weight.

“Shall I send it home for you, Miss?” he asked as his grocery wagon drove up.

“No, thank you,” said Tiny, “I’ll carry it,” and the wagon drove on.

As Tiny reached the corner, she saw a baby toddling across the street.

“I wonder that baby’s mother lets it go out alone,” thought Tiny.

Just at that minute the grocer’s horse and wagon dashed around the corner. Tiny saw in a moment what would happen if somebody didn’t run to the baby, so dropping her bag of sugar, which burst open and spread all over the ground, she ran as fast as she could and was just in the nick of time to drag the baby out of the way of the wagon.

“Bless me! Bless me!” panted the policeman, running up. “I hurried as fast as I could. If it hadn’t been for this little girl,” he continued to the baby’s mother, who was now crying, “that baby would---- Why, it’s the little girl that ran away! How do you do?”

“I didn’t run away,” sobbed Tiny; “I didn’t.”

“Well, well,” said the policeman, “I guess we can begin to forget it by this time. After the fire warning and this----” But Tiny was hurrying away to the store to get more sugar.

“I do hope they won’t worry at home,” she thought.

“That’s the girl,” said the grocer’s boy as Tiny went into the store. “She was just in time.”

He had been telling about the near-accident.

The grocer couldn’t thank Tiny enough for saving the baby’s life, and he asked her to ride in the grocery wagon so that she would get home sooner.

“I was so afraid you would worry, dear lady,” she said as she told the story, “and I spilled all the sugar--every bit.”

“Oh, my dear, I’m so thankful you were not hurt,” said the little lady, “that I would give a hundred bags of sugar--you, dear brave little heroine,” as she took her on her lap.

“My mother,” began Tiny, “was something like you and----”

“Hush, dear,” said the little lady, smoothing her hair.

“You like to go to school, don’t you?” she asked to change the subject.

“My, I never enjoyed school so much in all my life,” said Tiny.

“Oh, you used to go, of course, didn’t you?”

“Always,” said Tiny, “my father was--” and her voice began to sound full of tears.

“Strange,” said the little lady to herself. “Very strange why she ran away. Maybe we’ll find out some day. I’ll inquire again if the police have found out anything more about her.”

_Tiny Goes Shopping_

The next morning Tiny took her pig-bank from the mantel and began to count her money.

“Wasn’t your mother dear to give me all this spending money, Martin?” said Tiny to Martin as he came into the room. “I do wonder how much there is; won’t you please help me count it?”

“Seven dollars and eighteen cents,” counted Martin, laying down the last coin. “My! that’s a lot of money, Tiny. What are you going to do with it?”

“Oh, Martin, don’t tell, please. Oh, it must be a secret! I do want it to be a surprise!”

“Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of me,” said Martin; “but what’s the secret?”

“Why, Saturday is your mother’s birthday, and I’m going to buy her a present.”

“Grand. What will you buy?” he asked.

“I really don’t know,” said Tiny, “but I’m going shopping this afternoon after school. I’ve had permission to get out early, because I told Miss Spectacles about the surprise.”

“Wasn’t that kind of her!” said Martin.

“People are often kinder than they seem,” said Tiny.

Just as she put the bank in its place on the mantel, Mrs. Bountiful came in. “Why, dear,” said she, “what a saving little girl you are; I haven’t given you any money in a long time; here is a dollar.”

“Oh, thank you,” said Tiny, “but you have been so good to me, I don’t like----”

“Never mind, dear,” said the little lady. “Come, it’s time to go to school.”

“I’ll be ready in a minute, as soon as I get my books.”

“Here is a banana for recess,” said Mrs. Bountiful, following her and kissing her good-by.

On her way out as Tiny passed the mantel, she quickly slipped her bank into her school-bag.

“Good-by, all,” said she.

She could scarcely wait for the time to come for her to go shopping, and it seemed almost a week until Miss Spectacles nodded her head that she might be dismissed.

On her way to the store, she would put her hand in her school-bag every once in a while to see if the bank was safe.

She had been to the Globe Department Store with Mrs. Bountiful more than once.

“What shall I buy?” she thought.

Just then she noticed a cute little china cat. She picked it up. “That’s certainly cute,” she thought, “but not very useful,” so she put it down and picked up a little stuffed dog. “Neither is that,” she concluded and put it down.

“Do you wish anything?” asked the saleslady politely.

“No, thank you,” replied Tiny.

She picked up several funny little images, and was so much interested that she did not notice that any one was near until she heard a voice, a man’s voice, speaking to the saleslady in an undertone: “I’ve been watching that child for some time, Miss Sellum; please keep an eye on her.”

“Oh, I don’t think she’d take anything, Mr. Knockem,” replied the girl.

Tiny looked around. No one was in sight except the pretty saleslady and a tall, haughty-looking man.

“I wonder who they mean?” thought Tiny. “Oh, they must mean me because I touched those things,” and she burst into tears.

“I never stole anything in my life--not a single--thing--ever,” she sobbed. “I’m Mrs. Bountiful’s--little--girl----”

“Mercy!” exclaimed Miss Sellum.

“Pardon me, Miss,” begged the floor-walker--for that was who Mr. Knockem was, and right scared he was, too, for Mrs. Bountiful was one of their best customers. “I didn’t mean any harm. Can I be of assistance to you?”

“Why, sir,” said Tiny, drying her eyes, “it’s all right--I shouldn’t have touched anything, I know, but--I’m trying to select a present for Mrs. Bountiful’s birthday. It comes Saturday, you see----”

“Oh, that’s it, that’s it, is it?” asked a new voice. It was so kind, and full of joy that Tiny knew she’d like its owner before she looked up at the kindly, bald-headed gentleman who had joined them.

“Leave the little miss to me, Mr. Knockem,” he said.

“Oh, certainly, Mr. Storem; certainly, sir,” said the floor-walker.

“Well, my dear,” said the stout gentleman, “I believe I can help you. I know Mrs. Bountiful quite well. The other day she was in the store inquiring for vanity hand-bags.”

“The kind all filled with golden powder boxes, and mirrors, and coin holders?” asked Tiny eagerly.

“Yes,” smiled Mr. Storem, “and here they are at this counter. Miss Prettyman, will you show those bags to Miss----”

“My name is Tiny, sir,” said the little girl, much pleased with the lady, who brought several bags for her to see.

“How much is this?” she asked, selecting a charming violet one, lined with dainty flowered silk.

“Five dollars,” said Miss Prettyman. “I’ve sold bags for years, but I never saw so lovely a one at that price.”

“I’ll take that, please,” said Tiny, reaching into her school-bag for her bank.

“Oh, dear,” she cried, “how am I going to get the money out of my pig?”

You should have heard Mr. Storem laugh. “Well, well,” he said, “I guess I’ll have to help you.”

So he helped Tiny “fish” out the five dollars.

Just then some one called him away.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Miss Tiny,” he said.

When the cash girl returned with the parcel, the saleslady handed it over to Tiny just as if she were grown up.

“Gee,” exclaimed the cash girl, “ain’t she swell, Miss Prettyman, with the owner of the store escorting her around!”

“Is he? Does he own this store?” asked Tiny, wide-eyed.

“Yes, Miss Tiny,” said Miss Prettyman.

Just at that moment Mr. Storem returned.

“Is there anything else, Miss Tiny?”

“Oh, I don’t like to trouble you, sir,” began Tiny.

“Tut! Tut! Don’t mention it, little one,” said he. “The gentleman who just called me told me you are the little girl who warned the people about the fire, and saved the baby’s life. It is an honor to do anything to help you.”

Tiny blushed. “Thank you. Well, if it isn’t too much trouble, please show me where I can get some beads to make a necklace for Mrs. Bountiful.”

“Certainly, certainly,” said Mr. Storem. “Right this way.”

Tiny selected some beautiful beads, and Mr. Storem helped her again in getting the money from her bank.

“Mrs. Bountiful will love the necklace if I make it,” she said. “She told me it is the kindness and the thought more than the costliness of a gift that counts. My own mother always----”

“Your own mother!” exclaimed Mr. Storem. “Your own! Isn’t Mrs. Bountiful your mother?”

“Why, no, sir,” exclaimed Tiny.

“I read it in the Tinytown News. I read about a little girl who ran away,” interrupted Mr. Storem.

“I didn’t,” said Tiny. “I didn’t run away, but nobody believes me.”

“I do, dear,” smiled the big man. “I do!” and Tiny loved him for it.

“Good-by!” she said, “and thank you! Thank you more than I can tell you.”

It was rather late when she reached Rose Cottage, but the little lady had been called out to see a sick neighbor, so she was able to hide her gifts away. Finally Saturday came. Tiny wrapped her gifts in tissue paper and tied them with blue ribbon, and laid them on the breakfast table at Mrs. Bountiful’s place.

The little lady was delighted. She opened the bag and took out the purse and powder box and examined them and looked at herself in the mirror.

“Oh, you made the necklace yourself? Isn’t it lovely, my dear?” she sighed. “You are just such a darling, loving, thoughtful little girl as I always dreamed of for my own daughter.”

“Put on your finery, Mother,” said Martin, handing her the bag and throwing the necklace over her head.

“My present,” exclaimed Martin, “is in my room,” and, excusing himself, he brought a pretty hand-carved tea-table.

“I made it for you myself, Mother.”

“Was there ever such a happy old lady as I!” cried Mrs. Bountiful, putting her arms around both the children.

“Was there ever one who gave other people so much happiness?” asked Tiny.

_Tiny’s Mother Finds Her_

“I wish I could tell mother about everything,” thought Tiny as she walked along the road to school. “My, what perfectly lovely times I have had, and how dear the little lady is; but I do miss mother. How frightened she must be!”

A tear dropped from her eye.

“I won’t cry, though,” she thought. “Mother surely will find me! I know she’s looking everywhere!”

Just then she noticed a tiny little bird in the branches of the tree overhead.

“Wick--wick!” he sang.

“Oh, you pretty little thing,” cried Tiny.

The bird flew to a low bush, Tiny following. On and on they went, until Tiny was surprised to find herself at the end of the town.

“Why, I’m almost lost again,” she thought, “I better turn back.”

“Wick--wick!” sang the bird, as he alighted on a tree just outside the town.

To Tiny’s amazement, he was no longer a little bird, but the same big golden-winged woodpecker that she had followed into the forest when she left home. She was just about to run after him when a shadow fell across the roadway and she looked up.

“Mother!” she cried. “Oh, Mother!”

For the shadow was that of her mother who had gone out into the woods to look for her.

She stretched out her tiny little arms, but she was so very small her mother didn’t see her.

“Oh, Mother, here I am,” she cried, running toward her.

She stepped off the edge of Tinytown, and in a second she was her own self again, as big as ever.

How she laughed and cried and hugged and kissed her mother. Then she told all about Tinytown--just as I’ve told you, and showed her the lovely little Rose Cottage, the town hall, the school house, the church, the fire-engine house and the shops.

“Mother, they were all so perfectly dear to me I hate to leave them,” she said.

“Why, Tiny, girl,” laughed her mother, “we can visit Tinytown again, now we know where it is--then you can always keep your friends.”

“Yes, and I can explain to them, Mother dear, how they were mistaken, and I didn’t run away.”

But when Tiny and her mother came to look for it a few days later, Tinytown was gone. The Story People had taken it for their own.

* * * * *

“What a sweet story!” exclaimed Mary Frances, when the Story Lady finished.

“Yes, it is a sweet story,” she returned, “and we were so glad to get it, and the town, too. It shows our children how the children of other countries live.”

“Aren’t you tired after telling so many stories?” asked Mary Frances.

“Oh, no, I never grow tired of hearing and telling stories; but I like to hear you talk. Won’t you tell me something from your country?”

“Yes--let me see. All I can think of is a little poem about a robin and a buttercup.”

“Do let me hear it.”

So she recited--

THE ROBIN AND THE BUTTERCUP[B]

Down in the field, one day in June, The flowers all bloomed together, Save one, who tried to hide herself, And drooped that pleasant weather.

A robin, who had flown too high, And felt a little lazy, Was resting near a buttercup, Who wished she were a daisy.

For daisies grow so trig and tall! She always had a passion For wearing frills around her neck, In just the daisies’ fashion.

And buttercups must always be The same old tiresome color; While daisies dress in gold and white, Although their gold is duller.

“Dear Robin,” said the sad young flower, “Perhaps you’d not mind trying To find a nice white frill for me, Some day when you are flying?”

“You silly thing!” the robin said, “I think you must be crazy; I’d rather be my honest self Than any made-up daisy.

“You’re nicer in your own bright gown, The little children love you; Be the best buttercup you can, And think no flower above you.

“Though swallows leave me out of sight, We’d better keep our places; Perhaps the world would go all wrong, With one too many daisies.

“Look bravely up into the sky, And be content with knowing That God wished for a buttercup Just here, where you are growing.”

[B] Sarah Orne Jewett.

“Oh, thank you,” said the Story Lady, “I like that. You must write it down for me. To-morrow you shall have a lot of stories.”

STORIES TOLD THE SECOND DAY

THE MAGIC MASK.--THE CLOSING DOOR.--TOM GOES DOWN THE WELL.--GLOOMY GUS AND THE CHRISTMAS CAT.--PATTY AND HER PITCHER.

STORIES TOLD THE SECOND DAY

XX

THE MAGIC MASK

WHEN all the Story People were assembled, the Story King in his place, Mary Frances in the seat of honor beside the Story Queen, the Ready Writer at his table with pen in hand, the Story Lady began to tell one story after another. Even the clock ticked softly, as if listening, and no sound was heard except the sweet music of her voice as it ran from story to story, until five in all were told.

* * * * *

Many years ago, a little prince was born in a rich country across the sea. He had long been wished for, and great was the rejoicing throughout the land when he came.

As you may suppose, he was given everything he wanted. Indeed, if he were denied anything for a moment, he would set up so great a cry that the servants would run in haste to bring him what he desired; and if he were opposed by any one he would frown and stamp his foot, and throw himself into such a rage that his whole face would become ugly and distorted, and the little children would run in fear from him.

When he grew up, he delighted to fight; and nothing pleased him better than to put on his armor and helmet and ride forth at the head of his army.

He won many, many victories, and his country grew richer and stronger than it had ever been before.