A Little Girl in Old New York

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER IX

  A WONDERFUL SCHEME

  The Whitneys and the Underhills became very neighborly. Mr. TheodoreWhitney often stopped for a little chat, and he was very fond of a goodgame of checkers with Steve or John. He was on the other side inpolitics and they had some warm discussions. Ophelia, the oldest girl,was engaged and deeply absorbed with her lover. Frances went away earlyin the morning and did not get back until after six. Mrs. Whitney, aSouthern woman by birth, was one of the easy-going kind and very fond ofnovels. Mr. Whitney brought them home by the dozen. The house seemedsomehow to run itself, with the aid of Dele, as she was commonly called.

  Dele proved a powerful rival to Miss Lily Ludlow. Lily was much prettierand more delicate looking. Dele had brown-red hair, dry and curly. Shewas a little freckled, even in the fall. Her mouth _was_ wide, but shewas always laughing, and she had such splendid teeth. Then her eyes wereso full of fun, and her voice had a sort of rollicking sound. She knewall kinds of boys' play, and was great at marbles. Then she had so manyodd, entertaining things, and their parlor wasn't too good for use when'Phelia's beau was not there. But the children lived mostly on the stoopand the sidewalk.

  Delia went to Houston Street school. She could walk farther up thestreet with the boys, and watch out for them when they went. Ben likedher better than he did Lily or Rosa, but Jim was quite divided. He, likethe other poor man with two charmers, sometimes wished there was onlyone of them. But Lily was a born coquette, and jealous at that. She hada way of calling back her admirers, while Dele didn't care a bit foradmiration, but just wanted a good time.

  Benny Frank was something of a bookworm and student. Jim, who wasgrowing very fast, was a regular boy, and, I am sorry to say, did notalways have perfect lessons. He was so very quick and correct in figuresthat he managed to slip through other things. Moreover he carriedauthority. The boys had called him "country" at first and teased him indifferent ways until small skirmishes had begun. And one day there was astand-up fight at recess. Jim thrashed the bully of his class. It was aforbidden thing to fight in the school-yard, or in school hours, and soJim was thrashed again for his victory. But Mr. Hazeltine shook handswith him afterward and said "it wasn't because he thrashed Upton, butbecause he had broken the rules, and he liked to see a boy have courageenough to stand up for himself." So Jim did not mind it very much,though he had a black eye for two or three days.

  After that he was a sort of hero to the boys, and Upton did not bully asmuch. But some of the boys delighted to "pick" at Benny Frank, who wouldhave made a good Quaker. Jim sometimes felt quite "mad" with him.

  Lily did not seem to get along very rapidly with her intimacy. Hanny wastoo young, and now that she had the Deans on one side and little NoraWhitney on the other, was quite out of Lily's reach. And she did enjoyDelia immensely, though she was past thirteen and such a tall girl. SoLily tried all her arts on Jim, and succeeded very well, it must beconfessed.

  It was Saturday, and the world had not come to an end yet. Benny hadgone down-town with Steve in the morning, but he would not have bothboys together, for Jim was so full of "capers." So he had done errandsfor his mother, blackened the boots and shoes--the bootblack brigade hadnot then come in fashion, and you hardly ever saw an Italian boy. He hadcleared up the yard and earned his five cents. He was wondering alittle what he would do all the afternoon.

  Dele came flying in, eager and impetuous.

  "Oh, Mrs. Underhill!" she cried, "can't Hanny go to the Museum thisafternoon? The"--it seemed so odd, Hanny thought, to call grave-lookingMr. Whitney that, but she said Steve to her big brother. "The broughthome four tickets. My cousin, Walter Hay, is here, and he will go withus and then go down home. And Nora does so want Hanny to go. Oh, won'tyou please let her? I'll take the best of care of her. I've taken Noraand my little Cousin Julia ever so many times. Oh, Jim, what a pity! IfI had one more ticket!"

  "Sho!" and Jim straightened himself up. "I have twenty-eight cents, andI wouldn't want to go sponging on a girl anyhow! Oh, mother, do let usgo? Hanny, come quick! Oh, do you want to go to the Museum?"

  "To the Museum?" Hanny drew a breath of remembered delight and thrillinganticipation.

  Dele and Jim talked together. They were so earnest, so full of entreaty.Jim might have gone in welcome, but Hanny----

  "Why, we shall just take the stage and ride to the door, and we'll be socareful getting out. They drive clear up to the sidewalk, you know.Walter is fourteen and he takes his little sisters out, and knows howto care for girls. And there's such a pretty play; just the thing forchildren, The. said."

  "Oh, mother, please do," and the little girl's voice was so persuasive,so pleading.

  "Oh, please, mother! I'll see that nothing happens to Hanny."

  "Oh, Mrs. Underhill, Nora would be so disappointed. And we all wantHanny."

  Mrs. Underhill had told her husband if he would come up about three shewould take the drive to Harlem with him. Of course she meant to take thelittle girl. Which would Hanny rather do?

  The fascinations of the Museum outweighed the drive. Margaret was up tothe Beekmans' spending the day, their last week on the farm. Of courseJim could go--and when she looked at all the eager faces she gave in,and Hanny danced with delight.

  It was almost three before they could get off, and the play began atthat hour. However they caught a stage out on the Bowery and were soonwhirled down to the corner of Broadway and Ann Street.

  People were crowding in, it was such a beautiful day, and this wasconsidered the place preeminently for children. People who would havebeen horrified at the thought of a theatre did not have a scruple aboutthe lecture-room.

  "We better not stop to look at things," advised Delia. "We can do thatafterward. Let's go in and get our seats."

  They had to go way up front, but they didn't mind that so long as theywere all together. They studied the wonderful Venetian scene on thedrop-curtain, and the young lad in a supposedly green satin costume,with a long white feather in his hat, who was just stepping into agondola where a very lovely lady was playing on a guitar. Then theorchestra gave a clash of drums, cymbals, French horns, and a big bassviol, and up went the curtain.

  A musical family came out and sang. Then there were some acrobaticperformances. After that the pantomime.

  Grandpapa Jerome, in a very foreign costume and a bald head which hetried to keep covered with a black velvet cap, had two extremely tricksysprites for grandchildren. They were very pretty, the girl with long,light curls, the boy with dark ones. But of all mischief, of alltormenting deeds and antics with which they nearly set grandpapa crazyand threw the audience into convulsions! They took the nice fat boiledham off the table and greased the doorstep so thoroughly you would havethought every bone in the old man's body would have been broken by therepeated falls. They cut the seat out of the chair, and when he went tosit down he doubled up equal to any modern folding-bed, and he kickedand turned summersaults until the maid came out and rescued him. Then hespied the author of the mischief asleep on a grassy bank, and he found abig strap and went creeping up cautiously, when--whack! and the littleboy flew all to pieces, and the old man was so amazed at his crueltythat he sat down and began to weep and bewail when the little lad peepedfrom behind a tree and, seeing poor grandfather's grief, ran out, huggedhim and kissed him and wiped his eyes, and you could see he waspromising never to do anything naughty again. But that didn't hinder himfrom cutting out the bottom of the basket into which the old man wascutting some very splendid grapes. There were not more than half a dozenbunches, and the children ran away with them. The old man descended socarefully, put his hand in the basket, his whole arm, and not a grape.There was none on the ground. Where had they gone! Oh, there was thecat. But pussy was much spryer than the old man, and the audience knewshe had not touched a grape.

  After that some Indians came on the scene of action, fierce red men ofthe forest, and their language was decidedly Jabberwocky. The littlegirl was quite frightened at the fierce brandishing of tomaha
wks. Thenthey had a war dance. And oh, then came the marvel of all! Fourbeautiful Shetland ponies with the daintiest carriage and six lads inlivery. There sat General Tom Thumb, the curiosity of the time, thesmallest dwarf known. He was not much bigger than a year-old baby, buthe dismounted from his carriage, gave orders to his servants; abright-eyed little fellow with rosy cheeks, graceful and with a varietyof pretty tricks. He sang a song or two, then sprang into his carriageand the ponies trotted off the stage. The curtain came down.

  The children were breathless at first. The crowd was surging out and theplace nearly empty before they found their tongues. And then there wasso much else to see. The various stuffed animals, the giraffe with histhree-story neck, the mermaid, the wax figures, the birds and beasts andserpents, and a model of Paris, of London, and of Jerusalem. The placelooked quite gorgeous all lighted up.

  The people were beginning to thin out. They had not seen half, Jimthought.

  "Oh, we haven't been up-stairs!" exclaimed Walter. "There's a greatroof-garden. And you can see all the city."

  They trudged up-stairs. Dele kept tight hold of the little girl's hand.It was quite light up here. What a great space it was! One large flagwas flying, and around the edge of the roof numberless smaller ones.Some evergreen shrubs in boxes stood around, and there were woodenarm-chairs, beside some settees. It was rather chilly, though the dayhad been very pleasant. And oh, how splendid the lights of Broadwaylooked to them, two long rows stretching up and up until lost inindistinctness. The stores were all open and lighted as brilliantly asone could with gas. No one thought of Saturday half-holidays then. Itwas very grand. But what would they have said to the Columbian nightsand electric lights?

  "I don't feel as if I had seen it half," said Jim. He was not grudginghis quarter. "If we had come about one o'clock."

  "We'll have to piece it on this end," and Walter laughed. "We must getour money's worth."

  "We might stay over," suggested Dele mirthfully.

  "Just the thing," returned Jim, "and all for the same money."

  The children glanced at each other in sudden surprise. The glory of agrand conspiracy shone in their eyes.

  "Well, that's too good!" declared Walter. "Won't I just brag of that atschool on Monday. Oh, yes, let's stay."

  "We had better go down, for it is getting cool up here. If we only hadsomething to eat. Hanny, are you hungry? I don't believe Nora everknows whether she has eaten or not. Mother says she's just the worst. Idon't mind a bit, but you all----"

  "I wouldn't give a copper for supper. It's ever so much more funstaying," rejoined Walter.

  "I'm always hungry as a bear, but I'd a hundred times rather stay," Jimreplied. "Hanny, will you mind?"

  "I'm not a bit hungry," answered Hanny. "It's all so beautiful. Oh, dolet's stay!"

  "That settles it. Dele, you are a trump."

  They picked their way carefully down-stairs. The room was not verybrilliantly lighted, but they found many curiosities that had escapedtheir attention before. They espied the diorama and it interested themvery much. Half a dozen people straggled in. The janitor turned on morelight, and began to arrange a platform in a recess.

  How any one would feel at home Jim never thought. The rest were in thehabit of doing quite as they liked, and Delia often stayed at her aunt'suntil nine o'clock.

  At seven the main hall was quite full. The people were crowding uparound the platform. The children went too. The curtain was swung asideand out stepped Tom Thumb, to be received with cheers. He sang a songand went through with some military evolutions. There was a railingaround and no one could crowd upon him, but a number spoke to him andshook hands.

  "My little girl," said a tall gentleman who had watched Hanny'sineffectual efforts to make herself taller, "will you let me hold youup? Wouldn't you like to shake hands? You're not much bigger yourself."

  "Oh, please do," entreated Dele in her eager young voice. "She is sosmall."

  Hanny was a little startled, but the man held her in his arms and shesmiled hesitatingly. As she met the kindly eyes she said, "Oh, thankyou. It's so nice."

  The general came down that end.

  "Here is a little lady wants to shake hands with you," the gentlemansaid, who was quite a friend of Tom Thumb's.

  The small hand was proffered. Hanny was almost afraid, but she put hersin it and the gallant little general hoped she was well. Then he made abow and retired behind the curtain, and it was announced that he wouldappear again after the lecture-room performance.

  They went in and took their seats. Nora was tired, and leaning her headon Dele's shoulder went sound asleep. Hanny was getting tired; perhaps,too, she missed her supper.

  It wasn't quite so much fun, for the play was just the same. Theaudience enjoyed it greatly. The Indians were more obstreperous, andsang a hideous song. The vocalists sang many popular songs of the day,"Old Dan Tucker," "Lucy Long," "Zip Coon," and several patriotic songs.There was more dancing than in the afternoon, and the boys enjoyed theJuba in song and dance by a "real slave darkey" who had been made so bya liberal application of burnt cork, and who could clap and pat the tuneon his knee.

  They did not stop to see Tom Thumb again, but went straight down-stairs.Walter said good-night and declared he had had a splendid time, and Delemust thank Cousin The again. The four others bundled into the stage,which was crowded, but some kindly disposed people held both Nora andHanny. They had quite a habit of doing it then.

  Jim had been wondering what they would say at home. Of course he knewnow he ought not have stayed. But nothing _had_ happened, and Hanny wasall right, and--well, he would face the music whatever it was. If Delecould be trusted, why not he?

  There had been a good deal of anxiety. Mrs. Underhill had expected themhome by six, but their father said: "Oh, give them a little grace." Butwhen seven o'clock came she went down to Whitney's to inquire. Thetable was still standing. Mrs. Whitney sat at the head with a book inher hand; Dave, the second son, was smoking and reading his paper. Bothgirls had gone out.

  "Oh, Mrs. Underhill, don't feel a bit worried! They'll come home allsafe. I shouldn't wonder if Dele had taken them over to her aunt's, andshe'll never let them come home without their supper. She's the greatesthand for children I ever saw. And Dele's so used to going about. Theneverybody's out on Saturday night. Dear me! I haven't given it ananxious thought," declared Mrs. Whitney.

  But Mrs. Underhill could not take it so comfortably.

  "There's so many of them we should hear if anything had happened," saidJohn. "And there is no use looking, for we shouldn't know where theyare; Jim's pretty good stuff too, for a country boy. Now, mother, don'tbe foolish."

  But she grew more and more uneasy. If she had not let Hanny go! Whatcould she have been thinking of to do such a thing?

  After nine Mr. Underhill walked out to the Bowery, and watched everystage that halted at the corner. Men, women, and children alighted, butno little girl. Oh, where could she be? He felt almost as if the worldwas coming to an end.

  Then a familiar group all talking at the same time stepped out on thesidewalk. A big girl and two little ones.

  "O father, father!" cried Hanny.

  He wanted to hug her there in the street. It seemed to him he had neverbeen so glad and relieved in all his life, or loved her half so well.

  "Where _have_ you stayed so long?"

  "We went to two museums," said Hanny, before the elders could find theirtongues. "And oh, father, we saw Tom Thumb and he's just as little andcunning as a baby! And he shook hands with me. A gentleman held me up.It was beautiful, but I'm awful tired."

  "Oh, _were_ you troubled?" cried Delia. "Why didn't you just go in to maand she would have told you that I always come up right, and thatnothing ever happens to me, I'm so used to taking care of children. Why,when we lived down town I used to take out the neighbors' children--overto Staten Island and to Williamsburg, and always brought them homesafely. Then we hadn't half seen the curiosities, and we should havemissed the nice time w
ith that lovely little Tom Thumb. And we thoughtit such capital fun!"

  Mr. Underhill really could not say a word. Tired as she was, the littlegirl was full of delight. Jim tried to make some explanations and takepart of the blame, but Delia talked them all down and was so fresh andmerry that you couldn't imagine she had gone without her supper.

  Mrs. Underhill stood at the area gate with a shawl about her shoulders.The little girl let go of her father's hand and ran to her.

  "Dear Mrs. Underhill," began Dele, "I expect you'll almost want to killme, but I never thought about your being worried, for no one everworries about me. I suppose it is because I never do get into anydanger. And you must not scold any one, for I was the eldest, exceptCousin Walter, and it was my place to think, but I didn't one bit. Itseemed awful funny, you know, to have it all over for the same money,and we not paying anything at all! And I did take good care of Hanny.She's had a lovely time--we all have. And please don't scold Jim. He'sbeen a perfect gentleman. We didn't do anything rude nor coarse, andeverybody was as polite to us as if we'd been Queen Victoria's children.And so good-night."

  "Jim, your father ought to give you a good thrashing. The idea! Iwouldn't have believed any child of mine could have had such a littlesense," his mother declared.

  I don't know what might have happened, but just then Steve and Margaretreturned. And when Steve caught sight of Jim's sober face and heard thestory, he thought it very boylike and rather amusing. Besides, it seemeda pity to spoil the good time. So he laughed, and told Jim he hadcheated Mr. Barnum out of a quarter, and that he would have to save uphis money to make it good.

  "And he owes me nine cents toward the omnibus ride. He must pay me thatfirst," said his mother sharply.

  "I wasn't admitted _twice_" rejoined Jim. "It is the admittance. Ididn't see any notice about not staying, and I don't believe I reallyowe Mr. Barnum another quarter."

  "Jim, I think I'll educate you for a lawyer. You have such a way ofsquirming out of tight places."

  They all laughed.

  "Mother, do give the children some supper," said their father.

  "Here, Jim, pay your mother." Steve laid him down sixpence and threepennies. We had Mexican sixpences and shillings in those days. "You'llhave enough on your mind without that debt. And next time think of thefolks at home."

  "Why didn't the Whitneys feel worried? Oh, thank you, Steve."

  "It did beat all," said Mrs. Underhill. "There Mrs. Whitney sat readinga novel----"

  "Perhaps it was her French exercise," interrupted Steve, with a twinklein his eye.

  "It was no such thing! It was a yellow-covered novel!" I don't know whythey persisted in putting novels in pronounced yellow covers to betraypeople, unless it was that publishers wouldn't use false pretences. Andto put a story in the fatal color made it as reprehensible to mostpeople as a yellow aster. "And such a table!" Mrs. Underhill caught herbreath. "Everything at sixes and sevens, and the cloth looking as if ithad been used a month, and Mrs. Whitney as unconcerned as if thechildren had only gone down to the corner. I declare I couldn't beso--so----"

  "But they're a jolly lot. They save a great deal of strength in notworrying. And they know Dele is trusty. She's a smart girl, too."

  "Well, I wouldn't want any of my sons to marry girls brought up as thoseWhitneys."

  "Hear that, Jim. You are fairly warned."

  Jim turned scarlet.

  "Jim will have to be in better business many a year than thinking ofgirls," subjoined his mother decisively.

  The little girl didn't seem very hungry. She ate her bread-and-milk andtalked over the delights of the afternoon, and her enjoyment mollifiedher mother a good deal. Jim considered at first whether it wouldn'trather even up things if he went without his supper, but the biscuitsand the boiled beef were so tempting, and in those days boys could eatthe twenty-four hours round. People were wont to say they had thedigestion of an ostrich. But I think if you had tried them on nails andold shoes the ostrich would have gone up head.

  "Oh, do you see how late it is? I know Hanny will be sick to-morrow! AndJim, you'll have the doctor's bill to pay."

  "Oh, no," said Hanny with a smile, "Joe has promised to doctor me fornothing."

  Mrs. Underhill lost her point. Jim wanted a good laugh, but he thoughtit would hardly be prudent.

  Of course something ought to have happened to impress their wrong-doingon the children. But it didn't. They were all well and bright the nextmorning. Mr. Theodore Whitney took occasion to say that he hoped theUnderhills wouldn't feel offended. It was just a young people's caper,and he thought it rather amusing.

  Mrs. Whitney said in the bosom of her household: "Well, I wonder thatMrs. Underhill has an ounce of fat on her bones if she's worried thatway about her eight children! I always felt to trust mine toProvidence."

  Jim "gave away" the thing at school, and was quite a hero. But some ofthe boys had crawled under a circus tent. And a circus was simplyimmense!

  Lily Ludlow said, out of her bitterest envy, "I shouldn't have thoughtyou would let a girl take you out, Jim Underhill!"

  "She didn't take me! I bought my own ticket. And there was hercousin----"

  "Well--if you like _that_ style of people--and red hair--and DeleWhitney has no more figure than a post! I wouldn't be such a fat chunkfor anything! And her clothes are just wild."

  "Of course you're ever so much the prettiest. And I wish _we_ could goto the Museum together, just us two." Jim thought it would be fine totake out _one_ girl.

  That mollified Lily a little.

  "And I just wish you lived up by our house. It seems so easy then tocome in. And when you once get real well acquainted--intimatelike--well, you know I like you better than any girl in school;" thoughJim wondered a little if it was absolutely true.

  "Do you, really?" The eyes and the smile always conquered him. She madegood use of both.

  "Oh, you know I do."

  Chris didn't see why she couldn't get acquainted with Margaret. Shewanted her mother to call, but Mrs. Ludlow said, "I've more friends nowthan I can attend to." And Miss Margaret seemed to hold up her head sohigh. Then Mr. Stephen was going to marry in the Beekman family. AndChris wondered why Mr. John didn't go in some store business instead oflearning a carpenter's trade.

  Hester Brown was out of school a week. Mrs. Craven had begged the girlsnot to tease her, but after a few days she announced that a mistake hadbeen made in the calculation--some people thought three years--but theend was sure. However three years seems a lifetime to children.