Bonnie Dundee

“ Ailie, still so excited that she forgot to be shy, put Bobby through his pretty tricks. He rolled over and over, he jumped, he danced to Tammy's whistling of "Bonnie Dundee," he walked on his hind legs and louped at a bonnet, he begged, he lifted his short shagged paw and shook hands. Then he sniffed at the heap of coins, looked up inquiringly at Mr. Traill, and, concluding that here was some property to be guarded, stood by the "siller" as stanchly as a soldier. ”

“ And if any one bows, it will sure not be me,
For I don't give a groat who wrote Bonnie Dundee!"
The laugh which followed this found Burns at her side, every passion in his inflammable nature alight.
"Aye," he cried, "ye have the verse makin'. But the e's are easy. Why didn't ye try the Doon. 'Tis as celebrate." ”

“ Who?
Bonnie Dundee, brooding at his desk in the living room of his small apartment, reflected bitterly that he was no nearer the answer to that question than he had been an hour after Nita Selim's death.
"Well, 'my dear Watson'," he addressed his caged parrot finally. "What do you say?... Who killed Nita Selim?" ”

“ Bonnet-piece, a gold coin of James V. of Scotland, so called from the king being represented on it as wearing a bonnet instead of a crown.
Bonneval, Claude-Alexandre, Comte de. See Achmed Pasha.
Bonnie Dundee, Graham of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee.
Bonpland, Aimé, a French botanist and traveller, born at Rochelle; companion of Alexander von Humboldt in his S. American scientific explorations; brought home a large collection of plants, thousands of species of them new to Europe; went out again to America, arrested by Dr. Francia in Paraguay as a spy, kept prisoner there for about nine years ”

“ And by the way, will you telephone me the minute you get hold of Ralph Hammond?"
"Well, maybe not so quick as all that," Strawn drawled. "I'll take the first crack at that baby, my lad!... Not so dumb, am I, Bonnie-boy? Not so dumb! I can put two and two together as well as the next one—pretty near as well as the district attorney's new 'special investigator!'"
Although Bonnie Dundee had taken Captain Strawn's none-too-gentle parting gibe with good grace, it was a very thoughtful young detective who set about locking himself into the house in which Nita Selim had been murdered. ”

“ So I am ready to conclude. My absurd proposal for the hand of Miss Berrith is not two weeks old, but she has passed out of my life completely. Since our interchange of letters we have met but once, and then only to pass each other with a formal bow. As I review the foregoing pages, there is only one thing which I should like to change. Coming to think of it, I imagine it is unlikely that she has ever deliberately thrown herself at my head.
As I close, the rake of Darius is rasping on the gravel outside, and in the distance, at the wash-tub, Galvin is wailing “Bonnie Dundee” in adagio time. ”

“ A chair at the bridge table was overturned. Lois Dunlap almost choked on her drink of Scotch. Women screamed. In a few seconds every person in the living room, including the district attorney and Strawn, was huddled in the wide opening into the dining room, their eyes fixed in horror upon Bonnie Dundee. ”

“ No use to begin pulling against each other."
"Guess so," Strawn growled, but he was obviously pleased and relieved. "Maybe you'd better have a crack at that crowd yourself. I hear Doc Price's car—always has a bum spark plug. I'll stick around with him until he gets going good on his job; then, if you'll excuse me for butting in, I'll join your party in the living room.... And good luck to you, Bonnie!"
Dundee took the door he knew must lead into the central hall, but found himself in an enclosed section of it—a small foyer between the main hall and Nita Selim's bedroom. ”

“ Take it off!”
“What in the world is the matter?” demanded Flora.
“She asks me what is the matter! Oh, heavens!” Bonnie May jumped down from the chair and turned her back to the mirror. She was wringing her hands.
“I don’t understand at all!” exclaimed Miss Baron hopelessly.
“You might!” was the emphatic rejoinder. “Do you suppose I want to play that kind of a part—here? It might do for the little sister of a sewing-machine girl, or a mountain-pink with her hair in knobs. But it wouldn’t do for anything else. If you was only one of the populace, a costume like that would cause a scream! ”

“ He could understand that she might have been the only child in the troupe with which she travelled, and that her older companions, weary of mimicry and make-believe when their work was done, might have employed very frank, mature speech toward each other and their young companion.
He turned away from the window with a sigh. “Won’t you take my word for it, Bonnie May, that these people mean well, and that one should speak of them with respect, even if one cannot speak of them with affection?”
“But they don’t mean well. What’s the good of stalling?” ”

“ He nodded his head. “Well, then, I’m the Romeo!”
[53] Again she regarded him critically. “You seem a little old for the part,” she suggested.
“Do you think so?” He was thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe that’s what Mrs. Baron thinks. She won’t even let me stand under a balcony, when she can help it.”
“Isn’t she quaint!” This with smiling indulgence. “But of course you don’t pay any attention to that?”
“Oh, yes I do; we—we have to!”
Bonnie May looked puzzled. “I can’t understand it,” she said. “You look like the kind that they always play the loud music for.” ”

“ Baron hit upon another possible grievance. “And she’s going to Sunday-school to-day,” she affirmed in a tone which seemed to take account of difficulties. “We’ve done our best to dress her decently. And I don’t intend to humor a little pagan as long as she’s in a Christian household.”
“But in that—that peculiar dress?” faltered Flora. She had a vision of Bonnie May in her fantastic old frock associating with the prim children [79] of poverty who were now the mainstay of the Sunday-school.
“She may walk with Mrs. Shepard. People may believe she belongs to her, if they want to.” ”

“ Her lips trembled and her eyes filled.
“But you’ll be better,” said Baron, reading her thought. Clearly she had despaired of ever being any better. “When you’re able to have her, she’ll be so happy to visit you. I mean Bonnie May. She’s a wonderfully sociable little creature. If she were invited to come to see you she would be delighted. Attentions like that—such as you would [186] pay to grown people—have a wonderful effect upon her.” ”

“ She’s got to get down out of the clouds, to real things.”
“She doesn’t seem to fit in with our kind of realities, does she?” he conceded. And then he smiled. “If it were only right to regard even children simply as human beings! They have to be themselves sooner or later. If it were only possible to let them develop along that line from the start!”
But the kitchen door had been opened by Mrs. Shepard again—this time timorously and incompletely—and Mrs. Baron was gone.
Baron climbed two flights of stairs before he came upon the object of his next search. Bonnie May was in the attic. ”

“ Her attitude became that of one who is tenderly maternal and pathetically old. She bent [247] over and took the child’s hands in hers. “My dear,” she said, “are you quite sure you are willing to go?”
Bonnie May looked into her eyes and smiled. She was grateful for this proof of kindness. They were the nicest people, truly! They weren’t going to permit her to feel offended. “Oh, yes!” she said brightly.
Mrs. Baron released her hands and turned away.
“I think it will be very nice to go,” added Bonnie May. “You know, when people see too much of one another, they—they get tired of one another!” ”

“ A gentleman stood there; a man who was very substantial-looking and by no means formidable in appearance. The hall-light fell on him. It seemed to Bonnie May that he was quite middle-aged. He was well-dressed in a rather informal way. A short-cropped black mustache had the effect of retreating slightly between two ruddy cheeks. His eyes expressed some degree of merriment—of [51] mischief, and this fact gave him standing with Bonnie May immediately.
“Good evening,” said Bonnie May in her most friendly manner. She waited, looking inquiringly up into the twinkling eyes.
“I came to see Miss Baron. ”

“ Baron did not stop to take in any of the others. At first she was speechless, as the saying is, though she was trying to shape certain comments which she meant to direct at Bonnie May.
She opened her mouth once and again quite helplessly. Then she found her voice.
“You little—limb of Satan!” The words came with difficulty. In that instant her features looked quite unlovely. Bonnie May might have told her that elderly people ought never, under any circumstances, to become violently angry. But Bonnie May was in no condition to utter elemental truths. ”

“ I had to get back at that one. ‘Don’t cry, little one,’ I said. ‘Wait until it’s a pretty day and I’ll come around and take you out in my automobile.’”
“But you haven’t any automobile!”
“That,” with great emphasis, “doesn’t make any difference. There’s no harm in stringing people of a certain kind.”
“Oh, Bonnie May!” cried Baron reproachfully, [102] and with quickly restored calm he added: “Surely one should tell the truth!”
“Yes, one should, if two would. But you can’t afford to show your hand to every Bedelia that gets into your troupe. ”

“ Rolled canvas, which might be let down in case of [226] rain, rattled slightly in the breeze, and one or two disturbed sparrows darted into the place and rested, chirping, on a girder overhead.
Then Baron had eyes only for Bonnie May, who had undergone some strange sort of transformation the moment she had entered the theatre.
Her eyes were enough to thrill an ordinary world-weary person. Her color became brilliant. Then her body began to respond to some overmastering influence. One might have thought of her as a little palfrey about to enter a great parade with many bands in it. ”

“ But Bonnie May was advancing very prettily. “How do you do, Mrs. Baron?” she inquired. She was smiling almost radiantly. “I do hope I don’t intrude,” she added.
Mrs. Baron looked down at her with frank amazement. For the moment she forgot the presence of her son. She took the child’s outstretched hand.
Perhaps the touch of a child’s fingers to a woman who has had children but who has them no longer is magical. Perhaps Bonnie May was quite as extraordinary as Victor Baron had thought her. At any rate, Mrs. Baron’s face suddenly softened. ”

“ Baron paused, frowning. “I meant,” he explained patiently, “that they are people who want to be as good as they can, and who want to give one another encouragement.”
The child was conscious of his wish to be conciliatory. She tried to restrain herself. “Well,” she asked, “if they want to be good, why don’t they just be good? What’s the use of worrying about it?”
“I’m afraid it isn’t quite so simple a matter as all that.”
Bonnie May’s wrath arose in spite of herself. She was recalling certain indignities. “I don’t see anything in it but a bum performance. ”

“ You haven’t had sense enough to realize that merely being Baron wasn’t being anything at all. You’ve got to realize that all men must be measured by just one standard. You’ve got to quit thinking it’s right for you to do just the pleasant things—the things you like to do. You have got to go to work, and take orders like any other man.”
Lying in his room, he obtained a new impression of Bonnie May, too. ”

“ When Flora came out into the hall Bonnie May whispered: “I want you to come down-stairs with me.” She took Flora’s hand and patted it quite blissfully.
They got to the foot of the stairs just in time to see the outlines of a masculine form mounting the front steps. The frosted glass in the door permitted this much to be seen.
“Some one else!” commented Bonnie May, and she turned to Flora. “Do you have so much company every evening?” she asked.
“So much company!” echoed Flora; she looked puzzled.
“Well, never mind,” Bonnie May hastened to add. “Some one is expecting you in the drawing-room. ”

“ He did not realize that he was viewing the street now for the first time through the eyes of a child who owed the neighborhood no sort of sentimental loyalty.
“Here we are!” he exclaimed as he produced his key; but his tone was by no means as cheerful as he tried to make it.
Bonnie May hung back an instant, as a butterfly might pause at the entrance of a dark wood. She glanced into the dark vestibule before her inquiringly. Her eyebrows were critically elevated.
“Is it a—a rooming-house?” she faltered.
“Nonsense! It’s always been called a mansion. It’s a charming old place, too—I assure you! ”

“ Then, with feeling: “If you’ve got used to playing to empty seats, it will do you good to have somebody looking at you. Now, do be sensible.”
“I shall be awfully disappointed not to see the play—that is, the third act,” protested Mrs. Harrod.
“Well, go ahead,” said Clifton. But he looked decidedly shamefaced.
Bonnie May took her position in the middle of the room. She meant to explain what it was they [316] were about to do. She did not know that Flora had come in and was standing just inside the door; nor did she know that Victor and Mr. Addis also arrived a moment later. ”

“ Mrs. Baron was provoked by the child’s intense earnestness. “Oh—impossible!” she said. She noted the look of despair in Bonnie May’s eyes. “There wouldn’t be enough tickets, anyway,” she added weakly.
Baron leaned back in his chair as if he had lost his appetite. What was the matter with them all, anyway, that they were afraid to get down into the crowd once in a while? Plenty of really nice people went to all manner of places—in search of novelty, for diversion, in order to get into touch with mankind. He had spoken of mad persons out at Fairyland. ”