Child rearing -- Fiction; Children -- Fiction; Families -- Fiction; Love stories; Siblings -- Fiction
A stray sunbeam darted into the aquarium and lit up its mysterious
depths with irresistible gorgeousness. Richard gazed and gazed; then he
turned and kicked the red locomotive; under the impact of his pudgy foot
it dashed with futile energy into the ruck of wagons, cars and
building-blocks and lay there on its side, its feeble little wheels
turning slowly.
"Nas'y ol' twain!" muttered the infant disgustedly.
IV
Meanwhile Elizabeth in her kitchen was busy unearthing divers culinary
crimes in the various cupboards and closets where the stolid Celia
displayed a positive ingenuity in concealing the evidences of her
misdoings. It was not perhaps to be wondered at that the untutored
Norwegian should elect to boil her dish-cloth with the embroidered
doilies from the dining-room; or that the soap should be discovered in a
state of gelatinous collapse in the bottom of the scrubbing pail and the
new cereal cooker burning gaily on the range. But Elizabeth's strained
patience finally snapped in twain at sight of a pile of parti-coloured
bits of china in the bottom of the coal-hod.
"My best salad bowl!" she exclaimed, stooping to examine the grimy
fragments. "When did you break it, Celia?"
The girl was standing at the sink, presenting her broad back like a
solidly built wall against the rising tide of her mistress'
indignation. Her big blond head sank forward over her dish-pan; a
guttural murmur issued from her lips.
"And I have always been so careful of it! It was one of my wedding
presents!" continued Elizabeth, in a fine crescendo. "How did you do
it?"
The girl had turned on both faucets, and the descending torrent of
rushing water drowned the anguished inquiry.
"You know I told you never to touch that bowl. I preferred to wash it
myself. You must have taken it out of the dining-room. Why did you do
it?"
"I no take heem out--naw! I smash heem when I move the side-brood." The
girl's broad magenta-tinted face was turned suddenly upon her mistress.
She appeared excessively pleased with her mastery of the difficult
English tongue. "I scrub ze floor; I s-m-a-s-h heem," she repeated
positively.
Elizabeth drew a deep breath. Scrubbing was Celia's one distinguished
accomplishment. The spotless floors and table and the shining faucets
and utensils bore evidence to the earnestness of her purpose and the
undeniable strength of her arms.
"You didn't mean to do it, I am sure," she said at last, with a
renunciatory sigh; "but remember in future you must not move the dishes
on the side-board unless I am there to help you."
"I no move heem; I s-m-a-s-h heem."
"Yes, I understand; but don't do it again."
"I no s-m-a-s-h heem 'gain--Naw!" The girl's china blue eyes gazed
guilelessly into the depths of the coal-hod; she lifted them with a
triumphant smile upon her mistress. "I _have_--s-m-ash!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account