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Page 51
Whenever she had ventured farther, she had been with Blanche, but to-day
she had left the garden, and for the first time in her little life she
had run away!
It was something that Harry Grafton had said that had caused her to do
it.
"Why, Dollie, you'd feel lost if you went to school," he had said,
"'cause you've always played in your yard."
He had not meant it unkindly, but he had offended little Dollie.
"I WOULDN'T feel lost outside of our garden any more than you would,
Harry Grafton, so now!" she had cried.
"Don't you mind, Dollie," the boy had answered, but Dollie DID mind very
much.
She had no thought as to where she was going when she ran from the
garden, and it was only chance that led her to the grove.
She ran to the bridge and stood watching the rippling brook, as it
rushed beneath it.
Softly she crooned a little tune, for wee Dollie was never long unhappy.
She had almost forgotten how vexed she had been, and she laughed as she
saw small bubbles sailing, sailing away to the meadow. Softly she
hummed, and then little words, describing what she saw, fitted quaintly
into the droll melody--
"See the pretty bubbles, bubbles,
Riding on the little brook;
See the spiders try to catch them,
And old Mr. Toady Frog sings
'Po-dunk!' and jumps down deep.
Oh, green old Mr. Toady Frog--
There's Blanche's teacher! I'll ask her, and p'raps she'll say 'yes.'"
A slender young woman with a gentle, smiling face, came along the path,
and stepped upon the bridge.
She wondered who the tiny girl might be, until Dollie turned, and gave
her a sunny smile.
"Oh, I wanted to see you this very minute!" cried Dollie; "I want you to
tell mama I'm big 'nough to go to school. Will you, please, Miss
Sterling. I'll LOVE you, if you will!"
The young girl was tempted to laugh, until she saw the red lips quiver.
Then she knew how much her answer meant to the little girl, and kneeling
beside Dollie, she put her arm around her, drawing her close.
"Dear, can't you love me, whatever I say?" she asked.
"Yes," said Dollie, "because you're so handsome."
"Oh, you are truly an artful baby," the young teacher said, with a
laugh.
"But WILL you?" urged Dollie, "I do know SOMETHING. I can spell 'c-a-t,
cat,' and I know that isn't kitten, and I can spell 'b-e, be,' and that
isn't the bumble kind, so can I come to school?"
"Dollie, dear, you couldn't be in my class if you started this year, so
I cannot give you permission. You would begin your schooldays in Miss
Primson's room," was the reply.
"Why, she's the cross-looking teacher, with black eyes that look like
this!"
Dollie touched the fore-finger of each hand with its thumb, thus making
rings through which she peeped, in imitation of spectacles, and frowned
as darkly as her baby face would permit.
Miss Sterling knew that she should not laugh at the grimace, but it was
so very funny that she could not help it.
"Miss Primson is to teach in another town next season, so if you wait
'til next year you will have a new teacher to commence with, and you can
work very hard, so as to get into my room as soon as possible," she
said.
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