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"Nevertheless," continued Mr. Dallas, "I'll promise no doll this time.
Shall it be books? Perhaps we'd better consult mamma. Come to think of it, I had an idea about this same birthday. It seems to me I thought it wouldn't be a bad plan to provide some amus.e.m.e.nt for rainy days."
The two little girls looked at each other, and Dimple hung her head.
"What do you think?" Mr. Dallas asked, quizzically. "It seems to me that I have heard that the rain produces a singularly bad effect upon two little girls I know."
"Yes, papa, we were horrid, especially one time. We didn't know what to do, and so--and so----"
"'Satan found some mischief still For idle hands to do;'
was that the way of it?"
Dimple glanced at Florence shamefacedly. "Yes, papa, I'm afraid it was just that way," she replied, meekly.
"Well, as I said before, I think it wouldn't be a bad plan to provide against such trouble. Perhaps that birthday will show you a way out of future difficulty."
And so it proved, for on her birthday morning the secret of the little house was revealed.
"You must wait till after breakfast to see your birthday gifts, daughter," Mrs. Dallas said, as Dimple came bounding into the room to receive her nine kisses.
"Oh, mamma, why? I always have them the first thing. Do tell me where they are. Downstairs or up here?"
"Downstairs, in one sense, but they are not in the house at all."
Dimple's eyes opened wide. "Not in the house? Florence, just listen.
There is a great secret. Oh, dear, how can I wait?"
"Well, dearie," returned her mother, "the sooner you are dressed the sooner the secret will come. See, I am nearly ready to go down."
"Please help me, just this morning, mamma. It will make it so much easier, and it's my birthday, you know."
"Very well, since you are the person of importance to-day, I will help you."
"Hurry up, Florence," cried Dimple. "Come in here and I'll fasten your b.u.t.tons while mamma does mine; then we'll get through all the sooner."
Although Dimple, the day before, had carefully selected the day's bill of fare, the breakfast was scarcely tasted, her favorite waffles offering no inducement for her to linger over them, so great was her excitement, and she watched eagerly till her father pushed back his chair, and declared himself ready for orders. It seemed to Dimple that he had never had such an appet.i.te before, and she watched with anxious interest as he helped himself to waffles from each plateful that Bubbles brought in. There was a twinkle in his eyes as Dimple at last heaved a long sigh, and he immediately arose and led the way through the garden to the little new house between the house and the stable.
"We'll look in here," he remarked, as he unlocked the door.
Although Dimple had been quite curious to see the inside of the "house for little chicks," she was rather disappointed at the delay, for she thought, perhaps, her papa had something for her in the stable, a fox terrier, or maybe a goat, since she had expressed a wish for both. But when the door of the little house was opened her surprise was so great that she gave expression to one long-drawn "Oh-h!" and looked from one to the other half bewildered.
For, instead of a brooder and an "inkybator," she saw before her the dearest little room with white curtains at the window, a rug upon the floor, a small cooking stove in one corner, a table, chairs, and all to suit a little girl. Upon the shelves were ranged plates, cups, saucers and dishes, and a cupboard in the corner looked as if it might hold other necessary things for housekeeping. Moreover, her family of dolls sat along in a row on the window-seat, looking as expectant as is the nature of dolls to look.
"Well, Dot, how do you like it?" asked Mr. Dallas, smiling down at the child whose color came and went in her fair little face.
"Oh, papa! Oh, papa! is it truly my house?" she asked, clasping him closely.
"Yes, it is truly yours. I thought a rainy day house might help to keep our little chicks out of mischief, because here they can peep as loud as they choose and it will not disturb any one."
"You said it was for little chicks, and I never once thought you meant us. Did you, Florence? It is lovely, lovely. Oh, papa, you are too good."
"I think it is a matter of self-defence, for if you and Florence are so ambitious as to take violent possession of your neighbors' houses, it seemed to me there would be no end of complaints, and the best way to prevent further housebreaking was to give you a house where you could cook and sweep and exercise your domestic tastes to your hearts'
content."
Dimple understood all this banter, and she laughingly said, "Florence, we are like the birds that try to take the wrens' houses to live in. But now we have a nest of our own we won't do it any more, papa. Thank you so much. It is the most lovely surprise I ever had in all my life."
"I'm glad you like your house, Mistress Eleanor Dallas; but, dear me, I can't stand here chattering. I must be off."
Dimple gave him an ecstatic parting hug, and returned to a survey of her house.
"Papa gives you the house, and I the furniture," her mother told her.
"You must try to keep the place neat and clean. Of course, Bubbles can help you, sometimes, but I want you to learn to take care of it yourself and to be a good housekeeper."
"Like Jenny Wren. Oh, yes, mamma, I will try. Florence, we'll put up boxes for the wrens, up there by the door, and maybe they will come and build. Mamma, may we have our ice cream and cake out here this afternoon?"
"Yes, if you like, and you may go over and ask Rock Hardy to come, and Leila and Eugene Clark too, if you like to have them. That will make quite a nice little party. You can use your own dishes, and have all the fun you choose."
"Won't that be fine!" cried Dimple, softly clapping her hands. "Shall we go now?" she asked.
"Yes, unless you would rather wait."
"No, I'd rather go now, so I won't have to think about it, for I shall not want to leave my house to-day; it is so dear and cunning. And, Florence, when we come back, we'll gather some flowers and make everything look as pretty as possible. Just think, we'll be like grown-up ladies, with a house, and a servant, and--oh, mamma, please let Bubbles wear a cap."
Mrs. Dallas laughed. "I don't believe we will insist upon that, but you can rig up one for her if you like, when she is out here. Now I must go in."
"Come, Florence, we'll go and invite the company, and get that over with, and then we'll have nothing to interrupt us the rest of the day,"
said Dimple. "Won't it be fine to come out here on rainy days and make all the noise we want. What time shall we tell the children to come?"
she called after her mother, who was just stepping off the little porch.
"At four o'clock, I think."
"That's the time Rock had his tea-party," said Dimple. "I am glad we can invite him to our feast, because we had such a nice time over there. I wonder if he knows anything about this being our little house. If he doesn't, won't he be surprised!"
It proved that Rock didn't know, and he was as interested as any one could wish;--so much so, indeed, that he begged to go over at once to see it, and his mother allowed him to do so.
"My! but it's fine," he declared, examining both outside and in. "You might have a pretty little garden out here, and plant some vines to grow over the porch."
"So we might," Dimple responded, "I never thought of that. It will make the little porch so much prettier. Just think, I never dreamed that it was being built for me."
"Your father is awfully good," returned Rock, adding soberly, "I hope it runs in the family."
Dimple laughed, but looked sober herself, immediately after. "I'm afraid I'll never be as good as papa and mamma, for I do horrid things," she said. She looked at Florence wistfully, then lifted one of her cousin's soft auburn curls, and laid her cheek against it; to which Florence responded by giving her a sudden kiss. They both remembered that day in the garret.
Rock became so interested in the idea of a garden, that, after Mrs.
Dallas's consent was gained, he spent most of the day in digging up a little patch in which the children planted a remarkable collection of plants, both wild and cultivated. They even put in some corn, so as to have roasting ears, Dimple said, and a pumpkin seed, because she liked pumpkin pies.
They were so busy all day that they were scarcely willing to go in to prepare for their feast.
Leila and Eugene Clark were properly impressed with the new house; yet, with the others, were quite ready to stop their play that they might do justice to the big cake with its nine candles, and its wreath of flowers; while the amount of ice cream eaten showed plainly that the refreshments were quite to the taste of the guests. Leila brought Dimple a box of candy, and Eugene presented her with a bunch of beautiful roses. Rock, too, although he hardly could spare the time to rush home and get his gift for her, had something to donate; an exquisite little fan with carved ivory sticks, that he said was made in China, and which his mother had bought in California. Mrs. Hardy added to the gift a dainty pink sash, and Florence had struggled in secret to make Rubina a new frock, and had succeeded very well. So Dimple felt herself bountifully remembered.