Jessie Carlton Part 8

"Young ladies _don't bet_, and Uncle Morris says that boys _shouldn't_, because it's wicked," said Jessie, while she busied herself tying the handkerchief. When the knot was fast, she said--

"Now let us see how skilful my cousin Charlie can be!"

Up jumped Charlie, spreading out his arms, and darting now this way and then that, as the steps and voices of the girls led him round the room.

Merrily rang out the laugh of Jessie, and the ohs and ahs of her cousin, as they bounded past Charlie, ran round him, or darted out of the reach of his nimble fingers. So spry were they, that ten minutes elapsed and the blinded boy had not caught either of them. At last, he followed them close to one end of the parlor until he found himself clasping the large mirror which reached almost to the floor. Stepping back he tripped over a low ottoman, fell backwards, and b.u.mped his head. Half in vexation, and half in sport he threw up his heels, and just as Jessie cried, "Mind the gla.s.s, Charlie!" brought down his legs with a crash on the surface of the mirror.

"Oh dear! He has broken the big mirror!" cried Jessie, in great distress.

"What will my father say!"

"Keep still, you stupid, mischievous boy!" said Emily as she tried to pull the bandage from Charlie's eyes.

"I couldn't help it!" said he, as rising to his feet, and rubbing his eyes, he stood staring on the ruin his feet had wrought on the lower half of the mirror.

"My pa paid a good deal of money for that mirror," said Jessie, "and he will be very angry with us, when he comes home to-night. I'm _so_ sorry."

"That's just like you, you stupid little monkey," said Emily, shaking Charlie somewhat rudely by the shoulder. "You are always doing some outrageous thing or another!"

"I couldn't help it! Let me alone!" muttered Charlie, shaking his sister's hand from his shoulder.

"You _could_ help it," replied Emily.

"There, take that!" said Charlie, striking his sister a heavy blow on the shoulder with his fist.

Emily was about to strike back, but Jessie stepped between them, and separating them, said:

"O Emily! don't strike your brother! It's _so_ wicked, you know, for brothers and sisters to fight." Then turning to Charlie, she added, "Don't you know how mean it is for a boy to strike a girl? Boys should protect girls, and not beat them. If you hit Emily again, I shall not be able to love you any more."

Charlie turned away, and seating himself in a chair, began to suck his thumb, while he gazed on the broken gla.s.s which was spread over the carpet. Just then, old Rover, finding the parlor door ajar, pushed it open, and walked up to his young mistress, wagging his tail, and rubbing her hand with his nose, which was his way of saying, "I hope you are glad to see me, this afternoon."

Jessie patted his head, and sat down wearing a very grave face. Rover thought something was amiss, but not knowing how to inquire into the matter, after a few more rubs of his nose upon his little lady's hand, laid down, and looked wistfully into her eyes.

Rover's presence put a new idea into the evil mind of Emily. She turned it over silently a few moments, and then said:

"Jessie! I have just thought of a capital way of getting out of this sc.r.a.pe about the mirror."

"Have you?" replied her cousin. "I don't see how you can do that, unless you can get some fairy to mend it for us, and I guess there are no good fairies, to do such things for unlucky girls and boys, now-a-days."

"_Fairies_ indeed!" retorted Emily with a sneer. "I don't believe in _fairies_. My plan is to tell your mother, that while Rover was playing with us, he bounced against the mirror, and broke it to smash."

"O Emily! I would not tell such a wicked story to save my life!" rejoined Jessie.

"Well, I would; I've got out of many a bad sc.r.a.pe, by fixing up some such story as that. And it is so _natural_, you see, for a big dog to bounce against a gla.s.s which is so near the floor as this one, that your folks will easily believe it."

"O Emily! Emily! How can you talk so?" said Jessie, gazing at her cousin with an expression of pity and surprise.

"She talks just right," said Charlie. "It's a first-rate story, and will get us out of the sc.r.a.pe nicely. Bravo, Emily! I won't hit you again for ever so long."

Jessie was horror-struck to hear her cousins talk in this cool and hardened manner. To her mind a lie was of all things the most mean and wicked. She had just shown her hatred of it, by her penitence for merely acting a lie in fun. But this proposal to tell a downright lie, for the purpose of escaping the consequences of an unlucky accident, looked like asking her to commit a very shocking crime. She felt a shudder creep over her, and shrinking from her cousins, as if they had been deadly serpents, she pushed her chair back a yard or two, and said:

"Emily, I would die before I would tell such a lie. I hope you won't think of doing it. It's _so_ wicked, Emily. If you could deceive my pa and ma, you couldn't deceive G.o.d, who saw Charlie break the mirror. Don't do it, Emily, please don't?"

"We will do it too, and if you peach on us, we'll say it was your fault that Rover did it. How will you like that, Miss Jessie!" said Charlie.

"I will tell my father the exact truth about it," said Jessie, rising to her feet.

"Very well, Miss Tell Tale," retorted Emily. "We'll fix you then. Charlie and I will say that you threw the ottoman against the mirror, and broke it yourself, won't we, Charlie?"

"Yes, and they will believe both of us, because they will think you are lying to escape being whipped for your fault. Ah! ah! Miss Jessie, we'll fix you, see if we don't!" and Charlie held up his finger, and grinned in his cousin's face.

"My father knows I wouldn't tell a lie," replied Jessie firmly; "and I do hope you won't, for oh! it is _so_ wicked, and _so_ mean. n.o.body loves, trusts, or believes a liar. Please Charlie, please Emily, let me tell pa just how it happened. He won't be very angry. I know he won't. But if he is, I will tell him to whip me, instead of scolding Charlie."

Charlie winced under this n.o.ble speech of Jessie's, and for a moment was inclined to yield. But his sister's temper was roused, and she urged him to stick to her, and to say that Jessie threw the ottoman, "and now," said she, "I will go and tell my aunt directly."

Jessie turned pale; not with fear for herself, but because she shrank from a conflict with her cousins, in her mother's presence. Fortunately, a happy thought came into her mind, and rising, she whispered to herself, "Yes, I will go and ask Uncle Morris to come in." And Jessie glided into the library.

Her uncle was not there. He had left it an hour before, and feeling slightly dozy had gone into the back parlor to catch a little nap on the sofa. This parlor was separated from the one in which the children had been playing only by folding-doors. Their noise at blind-man's-buff, had roused him from his nap, and he had heard all that afterwards pa.s.sed between them. When, therefore, Emily went to tell Mrs. Carlton her great lie, he thought it was time for him to interfere. So he pa.s.sed round by the hall into the front parlor, just as Jessie with her sad face was returning from the library.

"Oh, I'm so glad you are here, Uncle Morris!" exclaimed Jessie, her face brightening and growing much shorter. "Please come into the parlor."

The good old man kissed his niece with even unusual tenderness, and led her into the parlor.

"Hoity toity!" cried he, as he looked on the fragments of the broken mirror. "Somebody's been playing the mischief here. What's been the matter?"

"Jessie did it!" said Charlie, with a dogged air.

"Yes, sir! Jessie threw an ottoman at me, and it struck the mirror. Didn't she, Charlie?" said Emily, coming up to Uncle Morris, with Mrs. Carlton behind her.

"Yes, Jessie did it, and no mistake!" said Charlie, boldly.

"O Jessie! how could you be so careless! That mirror cost a hundred dollars, a few months ago. Your father will feel very angry," said Mrs.

Carlton with a grieved look.

"I did not break it, Ma!" said Jessie calmly.

"She did!" "She did!" said Charlie and his sister in the same moment.

"Ma, I did not break the mirror," rejoined Jessie, calmly. "If I had done it, I would confess it. You know I wouldn't lie, Mother, don't you?"

"I certainly have great faith in your truthfulness, my child," replied Mrs. Carlton; "but why are your cousins so positive in charging you with it?"

Jessie stated the facts just as they had taken place. Her cousins repeated their story. Mrs. Carlton was perplexed. Turning to Uncle Morris, she said:

"Brother, what do you think? On which side is the truth?"

"On Jessie's, of course, sister. Could you question the truth of that pure face! It would break my heart if Jessie could tell such a lie as these wicked ones here have told! But she couldn't do it. It's not in her nature to do it. Heaven bless her!"

He then stated what he had overheard from the sofa in the back parlor, and closed by saying, "These children had better go home to-morrow. They are wicked enough to corrupt an angel, almost. The proverb says, _eggs ought not to dance with stones_, and I cannot endure to see Jessie in their society any longer."