the hours between eight and one so well that he never forgot them.
It was maddening to smell the dinner, to know that there was to be
succotash and huckleberry pudding, and to feel that they would not
be on the spot to secure good helps of both. When Mary Ann
began to set the table, they nearly cut themselves in two trying to
see what meat there was to be; and Nan offered to help her make
the beds, if she would only see that she had “lots of sauce on her
pudding.”
When the boys came bursting out of school, they found the
children tugging at their halters like a pair of restive little colts,
and were much edified, as well as amused, by the sequel to the
exciting adventures of the night.
“Untie me now, Marmar; my conscience will prick like a pin next
time, I know it will,” said Rob, as the bell rang, and Teddy came to
look at him with sorrowful surprise.
“We shall see,” answered his mother, setting him free. He took a
good run down the hall, back through the dining-room, and
brought up beside Nan, quite beaming with virtuous satisfaction.
“I’ll bring her dinner to her, may I?” he asked, pitying his
fellow-captive.
“That’s my kind little son! Yes, pull out the table, and get a chair;”
and Mrs. Jo hurried away to quell the ardor of the others, who
were always in a raging state of hunger at noon.
Nan ate alone, and spent a long afternoon attached to the sofa.
Mrs. Bhaer lengthened her bonds so that she could look out of the
window; and there she stood watching the boys play, and all the
little summer creatures enjoying their liberty. Daisy had a picnic
for the dolls on the lawn, so that Nan might see the fun if she could
not join in it. Tommy turned his best somersaults to console her;
Demi sat on the steps reading aloud to himself, which amused Nan
a good deal; and Dan brought a little tree-toad to show her as the
most delicate attention in his power.
But nothing atoned for the loss of freedom; and a few hours of
confinement taught Nan how precious it was. A good many
thoughts went through the little head that lay on the window-sill
during the last quiet hour when all the children went to the brook
to see Emil’s new ship launched. She was to have christened it, and
had depended on smashing a tiny bottle of currant-wine over the
prow as it was named Josephine in honor of Mrs. Bhaer. Now she
had lost her chance, and Daisy wouldn’t do it half so well. Tears
rose to her eyes as she remembered that it was all her own fault;
and she said aloud, addressing a fat bee who was rolling about in
the yellow heart of a rose just under the window,
“If you have run away, you’d better go right home, and tell your
mother you are sorry, and never do so any more.”
“I am glad to hear you give him such good advice, and I think he
has taken it,” said Mrs. Jo, smiling, as the bee spread his dusty
wings and flew away.
Nan brushed off a bright drop or two that shone on the
window-sill, and nestled against her friend as she took her on her
knee, adding kindly for she had seen the little drops, and knew
what they meant
“Do you think my mother’s cure for running away a good one?”
“Yes, ma’am,” answered Nan, quite subdued by her quiet day.
“I hope I shall not have to try it again.”
“I guess not;” and Nan looked up with such an earnest little face
that Mrs. Jo felt satisfied, and said no more, for she liked to have
her penalties do their own work, and did not spoil the effect by too
much moralizing.
Here Rob appeared, bearing with infinite care what Asia called a
“sarcer pie,” meaning one baked in a saucer.
“It’s made out of some of my berries, and I’m going to give you half
at supper-time,” he announced with a flourish.
“What makes you, when I’m so naughty?” asked Nan, meekly.