friend, struggled down from his father’s arms, and trotted to the
door, looked out over the sunny lawn with a wistful face, and then
trotted back again, saying, as he always did when disappointed of
the longed-for sight,
“My Danny’s tummin’ soon.”
“I really think we ought to have kept him, if only for Teddy’s sake,
he was so fond of him, and perhaps baby’s love would have done
for him what we failed to do.”
“I’ve sometimes felt that myself; but after keeping the boys in a
ferment, and nearly burning up the whole family, I thought it safer
to remove the firebrand, for a time at least,” said Mr. Bhaer.
“Dinner’s ready, let me ring the bell,” and Rob began a solo upon
that instrument which made it impossible to hear one’s self speak.
“Then I may have Nan, may I?” asked Mrs. Jo.
“A dozen Nans if you want them, my dear,” answered Mr. Bhaer,
who had room in his fatherly heart for all the naughty neglected
children in the world.
When Mrs. Bhaer returned from her drive that afternoon, before
she could unpack the load of little boys, without whom she seldom
moved, a small girl of ten skipped out at the back of the carry-all
and ran into the house, shouting,
“Hi, Daisy! where are you?”
Daisy came, and looked pleased to see her guest, but also a trifle
alarmed, when Nan said, still prancing, as if it was impossible to
keep still,
“I’m going to stay here always, papa says I may, and my box is
coming tomorrow, all my things had to be washed and mended,
and your aunt came and carried me off. Isn’t it great fun?”
“Why, yes. Did you bring your big doll?” asked Daisy, hoping she
had, for on the last visit Nan had ravaged the baby house, and
insisted on washing Blanche Matilda’s plaster face, which spoilt
the poor dear’s complexion for ever.
“Yes, she’s somewhere round,” returned Nan, with most
unmaternal carelessness. “I made you a ring coming along, and
pulled the hairs out of Dobbin’s tail. Don’t you want it?” and Nan
presented a horse-hair ring in token of friendship, as they had both
vowed they would never speak to one another again when they last
parted.
Won by the beauty of the offering, Daisy grew more cordial, and
proposed retiring to the nursery, but Nan said, “No, I want to see
the boys, and the barn,” and ran off, swinging her hat by one string
till it broke, when she left it to its fate on the grass.
“Hullo! Nan!” cried the boys as she bounced in among them with
the announcement,
“I’m going to stay.”
“Hooray!” bawled Tommy from the wall on which he was perched,
for Nan was a kindred spirit, and he foresaw “larks” in the future.
“I can bat; let me play,” said Nan, who could turn her hand to any
thing, and did not mind hard knocks.
“We ain’t playing now, and our side beat without you.”
“I can beat you in running, any way,” returned Nan, falling back on
her strong point.
“Can she?” asked Nat of Jack.
“She runs very well for a girl,” answered Jack, who looked down
upon Nan with condescending approval.
“Will you try?” said Nan, longing to display her powers.
“It’s too hot,” and Tommy languished against the wall as if quite
exhausted.
“What’s the matter with Stuffy?” asked Nan, whose quick eyes
were roving from face to face.
“Ball hurt his hand; he howls at every thing,” answered Jack
scornfully.
“I don’t, I never cry, no matter how I’m hurt; it’s babyish,” said Nan,
loftily.
“Pooh! I could make you cry in two minutes,” returned Stuffy,
rousing up.
“See if you can.”
“Go and pick that bunch of nettles, then,” and Stuffy pointed to a
sturdy specimen of that prickly plant growing by the wall.
Nan instantly “grasped the nettle,” pulled it up, and held it with a
defiant gesture, in spite of the almost unbearable sting.
“Good for you,” cried the boys, quick to acknowledge courage
even in one of the weaker sex.
More nettled than she was, Stuffy determined to get a cry out of