“Pretty weather for April Fools,” remarked Fred, carefully guarding under his arm a neat little package containing a block of wood, with a card, on which were the words, simple but significant, “April Fool.”
Arriving at Rev. Mr. Lee’s door-yard, he walked up the narrow gravel-path with Flaxie beside him, “just for company.”
“Now don’t laugh and spoil it,” said he. And, to solemnize his own face, he tried to think of the horrible time last summer, when he and his brother John went for pond-lilies, and were upset and nearly drowned. Mary looked as if she were thinking of an accident still worse, her face drawn to remarkable length, and her mouth dolefully puckered.
“You don’t suppose Mr. Lee will come himself, do you?” whispered Fred, ringing the door-bell very gently.
“Oh Fred, let’s go away. Just think if he should put you in a sermon? He put somebody in once for stealing watermelons. He didn’t say the name right out, but——”
Two early dandelions by the front window seemed bubbling over with merriment and curiosity; but before they or Fred had learned who stole the watermelons, Fred stopped his cousin by saying contemptuously, “When a man gets nicely fooled he won’t put _that_ in a sermon, you’d better believe.” And then, gathering courage, he rang louder.
Mary was deliberating whether to run or not, when the housemaid appeared.
“Will you give this to Mr. Lee? Very important,” said Fred, handing her the dainty little parcel.
She looked at it, she seemed to look through it; a merry glint came into her eyes.
“I was afraid somebody was dead,” said she. “You rung so loud, and you looked so terrible solemn, both of you.”
“Solemn?” echoed Fred; and then it was he, not Mary, who broke down and smiled.
“Mr. Lee’s gone to a _funeril_,” continued Hannah, looking through and through the parcel again; “but I’ll give it to him when he comes home, and tell him who brought it.”
Did Fred wish her to tell him? He began to doubt it.
“Fred,” said the little girl, as they hurried out of the gate, “I can’t help thinking; shan’t we feel sorry next Sunday?”
“Nonsense!” returned her cousin. He had already thought about Sunday, and fancied himself looking up to the pulpit to meet Mr. Lee’s eye. Had he been quite respectful to that learned and excellent man?