“No, sir,” said he again, and ran for the parlor as if a mountain-lion were chasing him. He dared not walk, lest he might not go at all.
How he hated to go! That fruit-dish was a new one only last Christmas. Mamma would almost cry to know it was broken.
He ran every step of the way. Mamma almost cried, it is true; but it was just for joy!
“My blessed, blessed Jimmy-boy! I can forgive you for carelessness; but, oh, if you _had_ shut Judy into the kitchen, and deceived your mother!”
“No, no, no; God kept you from that meanness, the good God.”
“Mamma, your beautiful fruit-dish is broken!” exclaimed Edy, bursting into the parlor. “Isn’t it too bad?”
“Never mind, daughter; I’m too happy to care for such trifles,” returned Mrs. Dunlee, with a sunny glance at Jimmy that warmed him to the very depths of his heart.
WHEN Quon Wo decided that the ducklings were old enough, they were allowed to swim. But Polly never let them go to the pond alone. She went with them, and stood on dry land, watching their graceful motions. She seemed to feel ashamed not to swim herself; but she knew there was something the matter with her feet, so she never tried to learn.
“I don’t want Judy to catch any of those ducklings,” said Jimmy; “Judy’s horrid sometimes.”
“Will Punch catch any, do you think?” asked Mr. Sanford.
“Punch!” cried Jimmy indignantly. “Punch isn’t horrid; he’s good.”
“He’s a nice shepherd dog,” said Mr. Sanford, patting the animal’s head. “But he’s young yet. Let me see, how long have you had Punch?”
“Don’t you remember, Mr. Sanford? I should think you’d remember. ’Twas that time I had the toothache, and Aunt Vi made some walnut creams. It ached and ached. Mamma said I must go to the dentist. I didn’t like to; I was afraid. But Aunt Vi said, ‘Now you go with me, Jimmy, and I’ll write and tell Mr. Sanford.’ ’Twas when you were gone. Where were you gone, Mr. Sanford?”
“Well, so I went to the dentist with Auntie. She said I was brave. Boys don’t cry, you know; not much. The thing the dentist pulled with was as sharp as the head of a pin,—no, the _point_ of a pin. But when the tooth came out it never ached any more after that.
“And then Aunt Vi wrote to you; don’t you know? And you said you’d send me a present in a bag, and it would come that day to the post-office, and we must go right off and get it. I never guessed what it was; nobody could guess.