Penn Shirley

“ Mrs. Rowe was hastily laying aside her apron.
“We’ll ask papa, Molly. Captain Bradstreet is certainly very kind.”
“I don’t think Captain Bradstreet’s kind—I don’t think he’s kind a bit,” muttered little Miss Weezy, as the others went down-stairs. “Never ’vited me at all! Didn’t I ’vite him to my seven-years-old party, ice-cream to it too? O dear, dear, dear!”
Unloading an apronful of dolls in a heap by the trunk, offended little Weezy stole down the back staircase into the garden to confide her sorrows to Ginger, Molly’s yellow kitten. ”

“ Rowe had suspected all along that the good captain had intended to include Weezy in the invitation, but had forgotten to mention the child by name. Grown people are careless sometimes, and forget that little children have been slighted. The children themselves do not forget—ah, no!
Harry remained at Santa Luzia one week longer, and the members of the family vied with one another in making him happy. Mr. Rowe bought him a new suit, which delighted Molly as much as it did Harry; Kirke caught horned toads, and dug up trap-door spiders’ nests for the lad’s amusement ”

“ Our Mèdor is dead!” Mrs. Wasson brushed away a tear with her purple calico sleeve. “Would you like to visit his grave? It’s to the left, under the weeping willow.”
“Indeed we should!” cried the twins in a breath; “Mèdor was a dear old dog!”
“There never was a better,” responded Mr. Wasson, leading the way. “He came to us a little puppy. We lived in ’Frisco then, on Telegraph Hill, and we’ve owned him ever since.”
“Father says if he could spell ‘able’ he’d hire a poet to write Mèdor’s epitaph,” panted Mrs. Wasson, trying to keep up with the rest. ”

“ She isn’t much like you and me, Molly. Sometimes we’re kind, and then again sometimes we’re kind of not.”
“Thank you, sir; you can speak for yourself, if you please,” retorted Molly, bridling.
She had secretly prided herself on being unselfish and warm-hearted, and this frank remark was wounding to her self-love.
“For my part, I’m willing to send for Harry,” she added virtuously.
“So am I, Molly,—on a pinch,” said Kirke. “And I suppose Pauline will bring him,—on a pinch!”
“Then, as soon as we get home to The Old and New, Kirke, we’ll ask mamma to write to Miss Hobbs, and have it over with.” ”

“ Do you suppose papa can take us to the canyon?”
“Papa must take us; papa promised!” exclaimed Weezy, her eyes watering as if the fog had condensed in them.
“But you know it never will do for papa to get cold, Weezy,” returned Molly, herself ready to cry. “If it isn’t pleasant to-day, we can go when it clears off. Wasn’t it nice in Captain Bradstreet to ask us to stay a long while?”
[86] “Oh! the fog will lift by and by, Molly. Here in California mist doesn’t mean rain,” said hopeful Kirke. ”

“ And now he’s gone and asked Kirke and Molly to go to his—to his something—oh, yes, he’s asked them, and never asked me.”
Ginger purred softly, and rubbed her head against her little mistress’s feet; but Weezy could not be comforted. What a miserable old world it was to be sure, where captains called you nice, sweet little girls, and then went and didn’t invite you to their—to their—she couldn’t quite remember what.
Grown-up people liked big boys and girls like Kirke and Molly; they didn’t like little ones like herself and Donald. ”

“ It’s sure to be one or the other,” returned easy-going Pauline, stooping to fasten the offending lacing.
“Oh! won’t it be delightful if you and Paul can come to Santa Luzia, Polly? I hope you can stay at Mrs. Kitto’s a whole week.”
“Thank you, Molly dear, and I”—Pauline had been about to say that she hoped Molly and Kirke would stay at least that length of time at the camp; but suddenly remembered that there might not be room enough for them. She must ask her father.
“I—I suppose Auntie David will meet us [11] at Santa Luzia,” she said, to finish the sentence. ”

“ While Kirke presented their tickets at the office, she and Weezy waited in the main room. This had a large oblong bathing-tank in the centre, surrounded on its four sides by a broad walk. The dressing-rooms opened upon this walk, and the door of each one had painted on it near the top either a number or a letter of the alphabet.
“Which room would you like, Molly?” asked Kirke, quickly returning with the keys and their bathing-suits. “You can take ‘H’ or ‘No. 7.’”
“No. 7; it is the larger,” said Molly, drawing Weezy into that room, and locking the door. ”

“ A book that will hold the place of honor on the nursery bookshelf, until it falls to pieces from much handling, is “Little Miss Weezy’s Sister,” a simple, yet absorbing story of children who are interesting because they are so real. It is doing scant justice to say for the author, Penn Shirley, that the annals of child-life have seldom been traced with more loving care.—Boston Times. ”

“ It was Manuel Carillo, coming to take away Kirke’s burro and cart to keep during vacation.
“You’ll be good to Hoppity, this summer, won’t you, Manuel?” said Kirke playfully, as he helped him harness the sleek gray burro into the trig gray cart. “You won’t be mad with him because he threw you and broke your leg.”
[36] “Mad? Oh, no! that’s all right.”
Manuel grinned, and slapped the limb in question to show how strong it was.
“Hoppity ought to help you carry around your newspapers to pay for that bad trick of his. Now, oughtn’t you, Hoppity?” ”

“ Miss Penn Shirley is a very graceful interpreter of child-life. She thoroughly understands how to reach out to the tender chord of the little one’s feelings, and to interest her in the noble life of her young companions. Her stories are full of bright lessons but they do not take on the character of moralizing sermons. Her keen observation and ready sympathy teach her how to deal with the little ones in helping them to understand the lessons of life. ”

“ Wasson can do anything with them. Once he drove them out to Santa Luzia with a load of honey, when the water was up to their knees a part of the way.”
[106] “What makes the Wassons stay in the canyon in the rainy season, Pauline?”
“To take care of the bees.”
“To take care of the bees, Pauline? What do they do to them? You talk as if bees had to be fed and watered like so many cows.”
“Not like cows exactly, Molly; but they do have to be fed and watered. Mr. Wasson sows alfalfa for them to make honey from when the wild sage blossoms are gone. There’s Mr. Wasson now, in front of the house.” ”

“ Then calling Zip, who had begged to follow them, she went into the house.
All the way to the little brown cottage by the canyon, Molly and Pauline were talking [131] of the street masquerade now near at hand, and discussing what they should wear.
“I’ve a great mind to dress in light blue,” said Molly; “mask, gown, stockings, and all.”
“I wouldn’t, Molly. You always wear blue or lavender or something of that kind. People would guess you in a minute. Why don’t you wear yellow?”
“Yellow—with my red hair, Pauline!”
“Molly Rowe, your hair isn’t red, and you know it! It is the most heavenly auburn!” ”

“ Lucky for Paul and me; lucky for papa too! Auntie David is papa’s only sister. I believe he thinks she made the world!”
“Well, I must skip back,” said Molly, with an important air. “Kirke has gone over to Mrs. Carillo’s to see if Manuel wants to keep Kirke’s cart and burro while we’re away; [12] and mamma may want me to do some errands.”
All the rest of the week there was a pleasant bustle in the Rowe household, the bustle of preparing for a journey.
“We’re going to ride in the cars,” little Miss Weezy explained to all callers. “We’re going to Sandy Luzia. It’s ’most a hundred miles.” ”

“ Then he glanced at his more timid Molly, flushed with trying to strike out for herself, and at little Miss Weezy, floating gayly on her plank; and he mused—
“What a blessing it is to be young and strong! ”

“ But oh! racing is such fun! you don’t know.”
As Molly guided her bicycle down the steps of the veranda, there was a shadow on her brow. She could ride very well, even better than Pauline. Why need her mamma be so cautious about “scorching”?
Mrs. Rowe must have observed the shadow; for she followed Molly out upon the veranda, adding tenderly,—
“I know this, dearie, that your papa and I cannot afford to have you reckless. You are our mainstay, Molly.” ”

“ Harry, he affirmed, could be rolled into any corner like a foot-ball.
“The question is simply this, children,” said Mrs. Rowe, buttering a biscuit for Donald to eat on the car; “will you devote a part of your vacation to your little neighbor, or will you spend the whole of it in amusing yourselves? You shall decide.”
“O mamma! please don’t leave it that way. [41] Don’t put us on our honor,” entreated Molly, with a shrug.
“Because, when you put us on our honor, we have to do a thing, even if we hate it like poison,” added Kirke, groping under the sideboard for the yellow kitten. ”

“ To and fro past the sun parlor trooped monks with cowls, and nuns with rosaries; men dressed in gunny-sacks, and women dressed in newspapers. All wore masks. Weezy saw pretty masks and hideous masks; masks of pigs’ faces, of pug-dogs’ faces, of negro, Chinese, and tattooed Indian faces. ”

“ Papa can take us all out to the camp together.”
“Oh, dear, Polly! you won’t be here but just seven days. And I haven’t entertained you at all. What shall we do this afternoon? Shall we go to the bath-house?”
“I’d rather fish,” answered Pauline promptly. “If there’s anything I dote on, it’s fishing.”
“I want to fish,” cried Harry Hobbs, from the corner of the veranda. “Can’t I fish?”
[57] The little newcomer was tired of stringing sea-shells with Weezy. Sewing was girls’ work.
“Don’t you and Weezy want to dig in the sand?” asked Molly, in her sweetest tones. ”

“ Pauline and the others laughed in concert, for Mr. Wasson was exceedingly tall.
“This is Molly Rowe,” said Pauline affably; “and this is her brother Kirke. They’re visiting at our camp, and Paul and I have brought them to see the ranch.”
“Always pleased to have folks come, particularly young folks.—Mother,” Mr. Wasson glanced over his shoulder and shouted,—“Hello, mother, here’s company!”
“That’s Mr. Wasson’s wife; he always calls her mother,” whispered Paul to Kirke, as a woman appeared at the door of the house and hastily retreated. ”

“ Kitto’s boarding-house, overlooking Santa Luzia Beach. The Old was the back part, built of brown adobe, with walls two feet thick; the New was the modern wooden front, with a breezy veranda stepping down toward the sea.
“The house puts its best foot forward,” [43] prattled Molly, as she and Kirke and Weezy set off one morning for a lesson in swimming.
“That’s all right,” replied Kirke, “if it keeps steady on its pins.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” sniffed Weezy with disapproval. “Houses don’t have feet; and they don’t have pins.” ”

“ Do you recollect those heavy shutters, Alec, that papa used to bar every night?”
[95] “Perfectly well, Almeda.”
“O Auntie David! please tell them how you and papa used to mine the gold,” cried Pauline.
“I am sure we should all like to hear the story, Mrs. Davidson,” said Mr. Rowe.
“It’s not much of a story, Mr. Rowe. Ours was placer mining. They did not dig deep into the earth for gold in those early days, you know. They took the gold from the surface, and used cradles.”
“What did the babies do without them, Mrs. Davidson?” demanded listening Weezy. ”

“ She used to trudge over with buttermilk last summer.”
“Then the Arnestens have a cow?”
“I should say they do! It’s always breaking into the garden and eating up the pease. We mind that, because Mr. Arnesten supplies us with vegetables.”
“And with chickens too, I suppose, Polly?”
“Yes; Hop Kee cooks chickens beautifully.”
“Doesn’t he? It seems odd enough, Pauline, to think of your having our Chinaman.”
“He came to our house in just the right time, Molly. Mrs. Cannon was so sick she couldn’t have worked for us another day.”
“Hop Kee is a diamond, Polly.” ”

“ We’ll try again later,” said Pauline, lingering at the end of the wharf while Kirke concealed the basket beneath it.
Then the two hastened forward to overtake Paul and Molly, who had set out for the rocky cave beyond Bird Rocks. Weezy and Harry lagged behind the others, Harry’s short fat [61] legs being already weary of ploughing through the sand.
Weezy was very polite to her little guest, and very proud to show him the wonders of Santa Luzia, which she seemed to regard as the especial property of herself and her family. ”

“ Her clothes are all red and orange and green.”
The “somebodies” were Pauline and Molly, and they were laughing under their breath to hear Weezy talk about them in this high key.
[150] “They’ll never guess me in this black wig, Pauline,” whispered Molly, taking long steps to disguise her gait.
“Nor me in this blond one, unless Paul does,” returned Pauline. “Isn’t it strange that we haven’t found him and Kirke yet?”
“Very. I’ve taken particular notice of all the clowns and Indians, Miss Stars-and-Stripes. They don’t any of them seem like our boys.” ”

“ Wasson?” asked Kirke uneasily, as a bee whizzed about his ear.
“Wasn’t I ever stung, sir?”—Mr. Wasson put back the comb with an odd grimace,—“well, [110] young man, accidents will happen. There are five hundred of these stands, and I go over them three times every spring.”
“Go over them, Mr. Wasson?” repeated Molly.
“Yes, miss; I clean them, and make sure that each hive has a queen. It’s no fool of a job! The year I was sick mother tended to them, and she hasn’t had any hands since.”
Molly opened her eyes, and glanced at Pauline. ”

“ The water would wash away the earth, and leave the gold in the bottom of the sluices.”
“It wouldn’t have stayed there long if I had been around,” commented Kirke, sugaring his strawberries.
“The miners swept up the gold, but they [99] didn’t clean out the cracks”—Mrs. Davidson looked mischievously toward Mr. Rowe. “I’ve read that men are not very fond of cleaning out cracks.”
“What little gnomes we were,” said Captain Bradstreet. “I can seem to see ourselves now, Almeda, armed with case-knives, and creeping through those damp sluices. Their sides must have been nearly as high as our heads.” ”

“ They kick out the hems of their gowns every step they take.”
“You ought to give them lessons in Delsarte, Pauline.”
Molly and Pauline had again come around to the enclosed balcony, where Weezy stood at an open window gazing out.
“The little fairy queen hasn’t the least [152] idea who we are,” whispered Pauline triumphantly; “nobody has but your mother. Take longer steps, Miss California, or your papa will know you by the way you walk.” ”