Bee and Butterfly Part 7

"A good ill.u.s.tration of this fact is found in the Disipsus b.u.t.terfly, which belongs to a group which is not especially protected, but is often the prey of insect-eating creatures. This b.u.t.terfly has a.s.sumed almost the exact color and markings of the milkweed b.u.t.terfly, which is distasteful to birds, and hence enjoys peculiar freedom from the attacks of enemies. Because this adaption of one form to another evidently serves the purpose of defense this phenomenon has been called 'protective mimicry.'"

"'Protective mimicry,'" mused the girl thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair and clasping her hands above her head. "That means if an animal wishes to defend himself from another he just puts on the form of one that his enemy doesn't like. 'Actor bugs,' Professor Lawrence calls them. If that can be done why couldn't any creature put on any form he liked? Wouldn't it be funny if a girl could change her appearance every morning just like she does her dress? I could get up then looking just like Adele. Why!--"

Bee sat up suddenly, startled by the idea which came to her.

"Beatrice Raymond," she cried, "you can do it. Why it's done every day.

Didn't Emma Drew come back from St. Louis with golden hair when she had gone away with it black? Wasn't Mrs. Simpson's hair red, and then all at once wasn't it black? And the girls are always doing things to their complexions. Why, I can be just like Adele if I wish. Oh, why didn't I think of it sooner? I've lost a whole week." And with that she jumped up from the chair, went to the mirror, and surveyed herself critically:

"I could not change my eyes," she mused, "but I don't believe that would matter. Adele's are sometimes so dark that they seem black. But oh dear! My complexion is horrid, and my hair is so dark! They would have to be changed. Now what is the way to do it?"

At this moment Bee was in need of tender guidance from an older woman.

She was a warm-hearted, loving, undisciplined girl; p.r.o.ne to do things on the impulse of the moment which she would afterward deeply regret.

She had brooded over the indifference of her father and his apparent preference for her cousin until the matter had a.s.sumed gigantic proportions. Had it not been for the unfortunate change of photographs, and her father's consequent mistake, the question of looks would never have bothered her. As it was, the idea that if she could make herself like Adele, her father could not help but love her, filled her mind to the exclusion of anything else, and she thought of nothing save how the thing could be accomplished. Presently she turned from the gla.s.s and went down stairs to the kitchen.

"Aunt f.a.n.n.y," she said to the negro woman, "do you know of anything that would make my skin white?"

"Lawsie, chile! What am de mattah wid yer skin? Hit am good ernuff,"

answered Aunt f.a.n.n.y.

"But do you?" persisted Bee. "Because if you do, and will tell me, I will give you my string of yellow beads. Do you know anything?"

"'Cose I does, honey," answered the darkey, her eyes glistening at the mention of the beads. "Habn't I larn'd all erbout yarbs?"

"Then please tell me," coaxed the girl.

"Yer want hit like Miss Adele's?" questioned the old woman shrewdly.

"Yes," answered Bee eagerly.

"All yer has ter do, Miss Bee, is to git jim'son--yer know jim'son weed, honey?"

"Yes, yes," cried Bee impatiently. "Go on."

"Yer gits jim'son, an' makes a poultice ob de leabs. War dat ober night on yer face, an' in de mawnin' yer'll be as fair as de lily ob de valley. Miss Adele can't hole a candle to yer."

"Are you sure, Aunt f.a.n.n.y?" questioned Bee gleefully.

"'Cose I'se sure. What'd I be tellin' yer fer ef I ain't sure?"

"And could you make my hair yellow like Adele's?"

"No'm; I cain't do dat. Dere's a worman down in de town kin, but I cain't. No'm; I kin do mos' anything, I reckon, but dat."

"Do you mean Miss Harris, the hairdresser, Aunt f.a.n.n.y?" asked Bee with sudden enlightenment.

"Yes'um; she'll make yer hair yaller, er red, er anything yer wants. .h.i.t," returned Aunt f.a.n.n.y pompously, proud to be able to give so much information to her young mistress.

"Thank you, thank you," cried Bee, springing up joyfully. "I'll get the beads now, and if everything comes out all right I'll give you something nice."

She ran up to her room, and soon returned with the beads. Walnut Grove was a few miles farther out on the turnpike than was her Uncle Henry's place; consequently it was too far from the town to walk. Bee chafed at the necessity of waiting until Joel could get the buggy ready, so impatient was she to put her new idea into practice. It was brought round at length, however, and soon she found herself entering the only hair dressing shop that the little town afforded.

"What can I do for you, Miss Raymond?" asked the proprietress coming forward.

"Miss Harris, can you change the color of the hair?" asked the girl abruptly.

"Certainly," answered Miss Harris, evidently surprised by the query.

"Why?"

"Because I want you to change the color of mine," spoke Bee quickly.

Miss Harris hesitated.

"Does your father know of it, Miss Raymond?"

"Why! he wishes it," declared Bee with sincerity.

"Very well then. What color did you wish?"

"I want it sunny and yellow; with gold lights all through it," answered Bee promptly. "Can you do it?"

"Yes, Miss Raymond; but your complexion--"

"I know," interrupted Bee. "It should be fair to go with it. Can you help me about it?"

"No; I only do the hair. I don't know of any here who does treat the skin. It's a small place, you know."

"Yes;" a.s.sented Bee. Silently she watched the deft movements of the woman as she applied the bleach. It was done finally, and Bee found herself the possessor of locks as yellow as her cousin's. She eyed the result doubtfully.

"I like my own best," was her mental comment. "But if it pleases father I don't mind."

"You understand," said Miss Harris as the girl prepared to depart, "the application will have to be renewed as the hair grows. Otherwise it would be dark at the roots while the ends would be yellow."

"Will it?" asked Bee in dismay. "I thought that this was all there was to it."

"No. It takes time and patience to attain gold even in the hair." Miss Harris laughed at her little joke. "Whenever it needs touching up, come in and we'll soon fix you up."

"Thank you," said Beatrice as she left.

"It's going to take every cent of this month's allowance," she mused as she stopped at a milliner's and ordered a white chip hat with purple pansies for tr.i.m.m.i.n.g sent home, "but it costs to be a beauty. One must dress for it, Adele always says. I always liked her best when she wore great big purple pansies on her hat. Now for the jimpson."

Jimpson weeds abounded by the roadside. Bee filled the bottom of the buggy with them, and then drove home. Ignoring Joel's surprised looks the girl reached the house without meeting any one else, and went directly to her room.

"I won't go down to dinner," was her thought. "I'll burst upon father in the morning like a new being. Won't he be surprised?"

Chapter VI