experienced eye.
“Too dirty,” responded the patient, shaking his bleeding hand.
“Wait; I’ll tie it up if you have got a handkerchief.”
“Haven’t; take one of those rags down there.”
“Gracious! no, indeed; they are doll’s clothes,” cried Daisy,
indignantly.
“Take one of mine; I’d like to have you,” said Nan; and swinging
himself down, Emil caught up the first “rag” he saw. It happened
to be the frilled skirt; but Nan tore it up without a murmur; and
when the royal petticoat was turned into a neat little bandage, she
dismissed her patient with the command
“Keep it wet, and let it alone; then it will heal right up, and not be
sore.”
“What do you charge?” asked the Commodore, laughing.
“Nothing; I keep a ‘spensary; that is a place where poor people are
doctored free gratis for nothing,” explained Nan, with an air.
“Thank you, Doctor Giddy-gaddy. I’ll always call you in when I
come to grief;” and Emil departed, but looked back to say for one
good turn deserves another “Your duds are blowing away, Doctor.”
Forgiving the disrespectful word, “duds,” the ladies hastily
descended, and, gathering up their wash, retired to the house to fire
up the little stove, and go to ironing.
A passing breath of air shook the old willow, as if it laughed softly
at the childish chatter which went on in the nest, and it had hardly
composed itself when another pair of birds alighted for a
confidential twitter.
“Now, I’ll tell you the secret,” began Tommy, who was “swellin’
wisibly” with the importance of his news.
“Tell away,” answered Nat, wishing he had brought his fiddle, it
was so shady and quiet here.
“Well, we fellows were talking over the late interesting case of
circumstantial evidence,” said Tommy, quoting at random from a
speech Franz had made at the club, “and I proposed giving Dan
something to make up for our suspecting him, to show our respect,
and so on, you know something handsome and useful, that he
could keep always and be proud of. What do you think we chose?”
“A butterfly-net; he wants one ever so much,” said Nat, looking a
little disappointed, for he meant to get it himself.
“No, sir; it’s to be a microscope, a real swell one, that we see
what-do-you-call-’ems in water with, and stars, and ant-eggs, and
all sorts of games, you know. Won’t it be a jolly good present?”
said Tommy, rather confusing microscopes and telescopes in his
remarks.
“Tip-top! I’m so glad! Won’t it cost a heap, though?” cried Nat,
feeling that his friend was beginning to be appreciated.
“Of course it will; but we are all going to give something. I headed
the paper with my five dollars; for if it is done at all, it must be
done handsome.”
“What! all of it? I never did see such a generous chap as you are;”
and Nat beamed upon him with sincere admiration.
“Well, you see, I’ve been so bothered with my property, that I’m
tired of it, and don’t mean to save up any more, but give it away as
I go along, and then nobody will envy me, or want to steal it, and I
shan’t be suspecting folks and worrying about my old cash,”
replied Tommy, on whom the cares and anxieties of a millionaire
weighed heavily.
“Will Mr. Bhaer let you do it?”
“He thought it was a first-rate plan, and said that some of the best
men he knew preferred to do good with their money instead of
laying it up to be squabbled over when they died.”
“Your father is rich; does he do that way?”
“I’m not sure; he gives me all I want; I know that much. I’m going
to talk to him about it when I go home. Anyhow, I shall set him a
good example;” and Tommy was so serious, that Nat did not dare
to laugh, but said, respectfully
“You will be able to do ever so much with your money, won’t
you?”
“So Mr. Bhaer said, and he promised to advise me about useful
ways of spending it. I’m going to begin with Dan; and next time I
get a dollar or so, I shall do something for Dick, he’s such a good