Evelyn Raymond

“ That’s because you haven’t mamma to remind you, I s’pose. Mamma remembers everything. Mamma never is naughty. Mamma knows everything. Mamma is dear, dear, dear. And, oh, I want her, I want her!”
Josephine’s arms went round the gentleman’s neck, and her tears fell freely upon his spotless shirt-front. She had been very brave, she had done what she promised Doctor Mack, and kept a “laughing front” as long as she could; but now here, in the home of her papa’s twin, with her “own folks,” her self-control gave way, and she cried as she had never cried before in all her short and happy life. ”

“ Then, all at once, Josephine remembered what Doctor Mack had said:
“Don’t be a weeper, little lady, whatever else you are. Be a smiler, like my Cousin Helen, your mamma. You’re pretty small to tackle the world alone, but just do it with a laugh and it will laugh back upon you.”
Not all of which she understood, though she recalled every one of the impressive words, but the “laughing part” was plain enough.
“Course, Rudanthy. No Uncle Joe would be glad to get a crying little girl to his house. I’ll take off my coat and yours, darling. You are pretty tired, I guess. ”

“ Miss Kimono thanked her friend and departed; and that same afternoon the unhappy doll’s ruined countenance was replaced by one so beautiful that it almost consoled Josephine for the loss of the more familiar face.
That very day, too, away out in a suburban village, where rents were cheap and needs few, three little lads sat on a bare floor, surrounding a baby, who rejoiced in the high-sounding name of Penelope, but rejoiced in very little else. Even now she was crying for her dinner, and each of the “triplets,” as they were called by the neighbors, was doing his utmost to console her. ”

“ Merriman, laughed so heartily over it, that that lady remonstrated, saying:
“Dear Miss Desire, it’s outrageous. Under the circumstances I would never permit it. The idea! He excludes you from table with himself and the little girl, does he not? For so Michael tells me.”
“Yes. Not, I fancy, from arrogance, but merely from force of habit. He dislikes women, utterly and sincerely. Or he thinks he does. But Josephine has won his whole heart for childhood, and he likes her to be with him as constantly as possible. ”

“ The idea of one small child upsetting two such households, all for the sake of a sled-ride! Hmm. Hmm. Peter! Here, Peter. I’m for bed at breakfast time! After an hour or two of rest I’ll set about finding that mislaid Joseph Smith and hand over to him this little-too-absorbing responsibility. Thank God, boy, that she did not die.”
“Aye, Massa Joe. I’se been a-thinkin’ of him the whole endurin’ night. Powerful queer, ain’t it? Just such a little speck of while, and now seems if that little missy worth more to old Peter than the whole universe. Yes, suh, the whole universe!” ”

“ I never rode on a red sled in all my life, and now I’m going to. Once my papa rode on sleds. He and you—I mean that other uncle, away up in New York somewhere. He’s seen snow as high as my head, my papa has. I never. I never saw only the teeniest-teeniest bit before. It’s lovely, just lovely. If it wasn’t quite so cold. To ride on a sled, a sled, like papa!”
Josephine was anything but quiet now. She danced around and around the room, pausing once and again to hug her uncle, who submitted to the outbursts of affection with wonderful patience, “considerin’,” as Peter reflected. ”

“ Then, as if a sudden fear attacked him he turned upon her, firmly admonishing her to remember: “If I’m to be your twin, as you say, you’ve got to have no nonsense in it. If I say ‘go in’ when there’s a lot of boys out in the square you’ll have to mind, ’cause they don’t always act polite, you see. Oh, bother! It’s all boys, anyway, isn’t it! I wish there was another girl, to even up”—
[169] “Why, Michael Merriman!” cried Josephine, interrupting her playmate’s long speech. “There is another girl! You forget—how could you forget—Penelope!” ”

“ When Rudanthy had been embraced, to the detriment of her jute ringlets and her mistress’ comfort, Josephine curled down on the rug before the grate to put the doll asleep, observing:
“You’re so cold, Rudanthy. Colder than I am, even. Your precious hands are like ice. You must lie right here close to the fire, ’tween me and it. By-and-by Uncle Joe will come and then—My! Won’t he be surprised? [41] That Peter boy is so dreadful stupid, like’s not he’ll forget to say a single word about us. Never mind. He’s my papa’s twin brother. Do you know what twins are, Rudanthy? I do. ”

“ The “dear” man’s arms went round the little figure, and he drew it close to his lonely heart with a jealous wish that he might always keep it there. All at once he felt that he hated that other unknown, rightful uncle to whom this charming “parcel” belonged, and almost he wished that no such person might ever be found. Then he unclasped her clinging arms and—actually kissed her!
“You are helping me very greatly, Josephine. You are a dear child. Peter will see that your room is all right for the night. Tell him anything you need and he’ll get it for you. Good-night, little girl.” ”

“ I’m sorry to tell you that I have no twin brother, no ‘sister Helen,’ and no niece anywhere in this world. I have many [84] cousins whom I distrust, and who don’t like me because I happen to be richer than they. That’s why I live here alone, with my colored ‘boys.’ In short, though I am Joseph Smith, of number 1000 Bismarck Avenue, I am not this same Joseph Smith to whom your mamma sent you. To-morrow we will try to find this other Joseph Smith, your mislaid uncle. Even to-day I will send for somebody who will search for him in my stead. ”

“ When folk are honest-minded, and love a common object, such as little Josephine, matters are soon arranged. In half an hour the conference was over, and the child ran back into the library to find the two Uncle Joes standing before its window and looking across the pretty square—where the crocuses were peeping through the tender grass and no sign of snow remained—toward a small house on its sunny northeastern corner. ”

“ The old-fashioned hall clock had ticked the hour for generations of Smiths “from Virginia,” and was regulated nowadays by the tower timepiece at Mt. Royal station. It was fortunate for Josephine that just as the minute hand dropped to its place, midway between the six and seven on the dial, she came tripping down the wide stair, radiant from her bath and the comfort of fresh clothing, and eager to be again with the handsome Uncle Joe, who was waiting for her at the stair’s foot with some impatience. ”

“ She stepped from the “Firefly” and climbed the cold marble stoop, holding on to Peter’s hand as if without its aid she could not have mounted it at all. She allowed him to take off her hat and cloak, without protesting that she liked to do things for herself, and sat down by the register with a shiver of content.
“Tired, little missy?”
“Terrible tired, Peter, thank you.”
“Massa Joe’s takin’ his luncheon, Miss Josephine.”
[112] “Is he?” she asked indifferently.
“Reckon you better come get yours. Massa Joe don’t wait for nobody, he don’t. Less’n ever when he’s got the gout on. ”

“ He hates crying people, Doctor Mack does. He likes mamma ’cause she’s so brave. Once my papa was a soldier, and he’s a Company F man now; but most he’s a ’lectrickeller, [24] and has to go away to the funny pickle place to earn the money for mamma and me. So then she and me never cry once. We just keep on laughing like we didn’t mind, even if we do hate to say good-by to papa for so long a while. I said I wouldn’t cry, not on all this car ride; never, not at all. I—maybe I forgot, though. Did I cry last night, Mrs. Red Kimono? ”

“ Now an old gentleman and—feeble, I may say”— Oh! if Uncle Joe could have heard him! “A feeble old man is not the one to be burdened with other folks’ relations. When I go back to town, now, I’ll be able to report that the missing uncle of this waif has been found at last, and that—Shall I say when you will call to reclaim her?”
Father and mother looked into each other’s eyes, one questioning the other, and reading in each but the same answer. Then said Joseph Smith, rightful uncle of our Josephine:
“Spare yourself the trouble, Mr. Wakeman. My brother’s child is our child, as dear and near. ”

“ But it’s dreadful dark everywhere. I guess I don’t like such thick curtains as Uncle Joe has. Mamma’s are thin white ones and it’s always sunshiny at home—’xcept when it isn’t. That’s only when the rains come, and that’s most always the nicest of all. Then we have a dear little fire in the grate, and mamma reads to me, and big Bridget bakes and cooks the best things. We write letters to papa, and mamma sings and plays, and—it’s just lovely! Never mind, Josephine. You’ll be back there soon’s papa gets well again, and Uncle Joe was sort of cryey round his eyes last night. ”

“ At which the new Uncle Joe threw back his handsome head and laughed as he had not laughed in many a day; for in fancy he could see Miss Penelope, aged seven months, helping “Cousin Josephine” to maintain the dignity of their mutual girlhood, as against a square full of rollicking lads.
Presently everybody was laughing, for happiness is delightfully infectious, and always even more “catching” than the measles. Grandma Merriman and Cousin Desire, who had come quietly into the room; the three black “boys” in the hall outside; the two Uncle Joes and Michael ”

“ He had based his opinion upon the behavior of some other little folks whom it had been his misfortune to meet upon cars or steamboats, who seemed to be always munching, and utterly careless where their crumbs or nutshells fell. This pair was different.
Indeed, had the host known it, Michael had been reared as daintily as Josephine had been. “Company manners” were every-day manners with him, and it was one of Mr. Smith’s beliefs that “breeding shows more plainly at table than anywhere else.” ”

“ Josephine knew a red kimono. It belonged to Mrs. Dutton, the minister’s wife, and Mrs. Dutton often stayed at mamma’s cottage. Could this be Mrs. Dutton?
The child was out of bed, across the narrow aisle, swaying with the motion of the car, pulling the curtains apart, and clutching wildly at a figure in the lower berth.
“Mrs. Dutton. Oh! Mrs. Dutton! Here’s Josephine.”
“Ugh! Ouch! Eh! What?”
“Oh! ’Xcuse me. I thought you were Mrs. Dutton.”
“Well, I’m not. Go away. Draw that curtain again. Go back to your folks. Your mother should know better than to let you roam about the sleeper at night.” ”

“ Poor Rudanthy! How bad she must feel without any face. That’s worse than having a sore foot, isn’t it?” as she heaped the coverings over the gouty toes.
“Far worse. Only waxen faces are not subject to pain.”
“I s’pose not. Now, Uncle Joe, would you like me to sing to you?”
“Can you sing?”
“Course. Mamma sings beautifully. She is the leader in our choir. My papa says she makes him think of angels when she sings. I don’t sing like her. Course not. But I can do some things, if you like me to.”
“What about the trunk, Josephine? ”

“ I haven’t had a bath since I was in San Diego, and I’m—mamma would [55] not allow me at table, I guess; I’m dreadful dirty.”
If Josephine had tried to find the shortest way to Mr. Smith’s heart she could not have chosen more wisely.
“To be sure, to be sure. Peter, make a bath ready next the guest room. Will an hour give you time enough, little lady?”
“I don’t want so long. I’m so glad I learned to dress myself, aren’t you? ’Cause all the women to this house seem to be men, don’t they?”
“Yes, child. Poor, unfortunate house!”
“It’s a beautiful house, Uncle Joe; and you needn’t care any more. ”

“ We don’t often have such nice sledding in Baltimore, you know, Mr. Smith.”
“And, Uncle Joe, I was never on a sled in all my whole life!” entreated Josephine, folding her hands imploringly.
[101] “No, sir, that’s what she says. She’s a Californian, from away the other side the map. Where the oranges come from. Say, Josephine, did you bring any oranges with you?” inquired Michael.
“Not one,” said the little girl, regretfully. “I guess there wasn’t time. Mamma and big Bridget had so much packing to do, and Doctor Mack prob’ly didn’t think. I wish I had. I do wish I had.” ”

“ Stay. I’ll not baby myself thus far. The air is warm as summer, almost, and the streets cleared. I’ll take a car; but—Shut that door, Peter. I don’t need you further. If anything happens to Miss Josephine, or any news comes concerning her, send me word at once. Shut that door, can’t you?” he finished testily.
“Certainly, suh;” yet good Peter left it a crack ajar, the better to watch his master, whose actions somehow suggested a different order of things from usual. He saw Mr. Smith descend his own and ascend Mrs. Merriman’s stoop, and threw up his hands in dismay, exclaiming:
“For goodness! ”

“ You are going to papa, and I am going to Uncle Joe. Who is going with me there?”
“Nobody, darling. There is nobody who can go. We have no relatives here, except our doctor-cousin, and he is too busy. So we are going to send you by express. It is a safe way, though a lonely one, and— Oh, my darling, my darling; how can I! how can I!”
Ever since papa had gone, so long ago, Josephine had had to comfort mamma. She did so now, smoothing the tear-wet cheek with her fat little hand, and chattering away about the things Bridget had put in her trunk.
“But she mustn’t pack Rudanthy. ”

“ If market’s over they’s plenty them flower-stores, and maybe it’ll make her forget all her lonesomeness. Poor little missy! What the Lord done sent to bless this great, empty house. Nothing mustn’t happen to hurt her, nothing mustn’t. No, suh,” reflected the good old man.
When Peter returned from his marketing Josephine was still asleep. He did not disturb her, though he listened anxiously to her hoarse breathing and carefully replaced the damp towel which her restlessness had tossed aside. ”

“ Josephine opened her eyes to their widest. This old man in the soiled green dressing-gown, unshaven, frowning and wincing in a horrible manner, was like another person to the handsome gentleman with whom she had dined overnight. He was not half so agreeable, and— Well, mamma often said that nobody in this world had a right to be “cross” and make themselves unpleasant to other people. She was sorry for poor Uncle Joe, and remembered that he had not had the advantage of mamma’s society and wisdom.
“Uncle Joe, you look just like one of them picture-men that was shut up in a tree trunk. ”