OLIVE'S TEA-PARTY.
WRITING THE INVITATIONS]
"Mamma," said Olive one day, "I want to have a tea party."
"Well, dear," mamma answered, "I dare say it could be managed. Youmust talk to Cara and Louie about it, and settle whom you would alllike to ask."
"No, no," said Olive, "I don't mean that. I won't have my sisters,mamma. They like to ask big ones, and I want a party for my own self,and no big ones. I want to fix everything myself, and I won't haveCara and Louie telling us what to eat at tea, and what games to playat. You may tell aunty to 'avite them to her house that day, mamma,and let me have my own party; else I won't have it at all."
Olive was eight. She was the youngest of three. It oftens happens thatthe "youngest of three" fancies herself "put upon," especially whenthe two elders are very near of an age and together in everything. Butthis sudden stand for independence was new in Olive. Mamma looked ather curiously. Had some foolish person been putting nonsense in herlittle girl's head?
"Cara and Louie are always kind to you about your little pleasures,Olive," she said. "I don't understand why you should all at once wantto do without them."
Olive wriggled. "But I do," she said. "Lily Farquhar says her bigsisters spoil her parties so, and they call her and her friends 'thebabies,' and laugh at them."
"Are you going to invite Lily to your party?" asked mamma.
"Yes, of course. She's my best friend, and she knows lots of games."
"Very well. Then fix your day and invite your friends, and I will takecare that your sisters don't interfere."
Olive looked very pleased. "I think next Wednesday would do," shesaid. "It's our half-holiday, and if Cara will help me on Tuesdayevening I can get my lessons done, so that I needn't do any onWednesday. It's _howid_ to have to do lessons after a party," addedOlive, with a languid air.
But mamma took her up more sharply than she expected. "Nay, nay,Olive," she said, "that won't do. If your sisters are to have none ofthe _pleasure_ of your party, you can't expect them to take anytrouble. You must manage your lessons as best you can."
Olive pouted, but did not dare to say anything. Truth to tell, herlessons at no time sat very heavily on her mind.
"It won't be my fault if I don't do them on Wednesday," she said toherself. "It'll be Cara's, and--and mamma's--so I don't care."
She found the writing the invitations more trouble than she hadexpected, and more than once did she wish she could have applied forhelp to Louie, whose handwriting was so clear and pretty, and whopossessed such "ducky" little sheets of note-paper of all colours,with a teapot and "come early" in one corner. Olive's epistles wererather a sight to be seen; nearly all of them were blotted, and thespelling of some of her friends' names was peculiar, to say the least.Still they did their purpose, for in the course of the next day or twothe little hostess received answers, all accepting her "kindinvitation," except poor Amabel Pryce, who had so bad a sore-throatthat there was no chance of her being able to go out by Wednesday. Andin one note--from a little girl called Maggie Vernon--was somethingwhich did not suit Olive's present frame of mind at all.
"Harriot and I," wrote Maggie--Harriot was Maggie's sister--"will beso pleased to come. We love a party at your house, because your bigsisters are always so kind."
Olive showed this to her adviser and confidante, Lily.
"Nonsense," said Lily, "she only puts that in because she thinks itlooks polite. She's a goose, and so is Harriot; they make such a fussabout each other. They haven't the least bit of independence. Well,never mind. If they don't like _your_ party, Olive, they needn't comeagain."
Olive felt consoled. But still--in her heart of hearts there was somemisgiving. What should she do if they all wanted to play differentgames?--or if Bessy Grey tore her frock or spilt her tea and got oneof her crying fits, as happened sometimes, and there was no one--noCara or Louie to pet the nervous little girl into quiet and contentagain? What should she do, if----? But Lily did not leave her time toconjure up any more misfortunes.
"What are you in a brown study about, Olive?" she said. "You _are_ sostupid sometimes."
To which Olive retorted sharply, and the friends ended their councilof war by a quarrel, which did not raise Olive's spirits.
The great day came. Not very much had been said about it in the familycircle, naturally, for when one member of the family chooses to "setup" for himself or herself, and keep all the rest "out of it," therecannot be as much pleasant talk as when everybody is joined togetherin the interest and preparation. And Olive could not help a littlesigh when, just before her guests came, she was called down to thedining-room to see the tea all set out. It did look so nice! Mamma hadordered just the cakes and buns Olive liked, and there were two orthree pretty plants on the table, and everything was just perfect.
"The sound of subdued crying in one corner"]
"I would have liked Cara and Louie to see it," thought Olive. "Theyneedn't have gone out quite so early."
But the sound of the front-door bell ringing made her start. She ranoff quickly to be ready in the school-room to receive her littlefriends. There were six of them. Lily Farquhar, of course, first andforemost; then Maggie and Harriot, Bessie Grey looking ratherfrightened and very shy, and two little cousins, Mary and AugustaMeadowes, who lived next door.
They all knew each other pretty well, so they were not _very_ silentor stiff. Still as Olive could not speak to everybody at once, and wasvery anxious that no one should feel neglected, she was not sorry whenthe tea-bell rang. Lily was to pour out the chocolate, and Oliveherself to make the tea. It passed off pretty well, except for Lily'sspilling a good deal, and Olive's forgetting to put more water intothe teapot, so that the tea became dreadfully dark and strong. But thecakes were approved of, and every one seemed content. Then came thegreat question of "What shall we play at?" Lily, who was clever atgames, made herself a sort of leader, but she was not sensible enoughto fill the post well. She was selfish and impatient, and being only alittle girl herself, the others did not care "to be ordered about byher." Then Bessie Grey got knocked down at Blind Man's Buff, and ofcourse she began to cry, and to say she wouldn't play any more if theywere so rough. Maggie Vernon tried to soothe her, but Bessie pushedher away saying she didn't "understand," she wanted her mother, ornext best, Cara or Louie, who were always "so kind." And the littleMeadowes, being themselves but very small people, looked as if theywere going to cry too; declaring that they would rather not play atall if they needed to run about so very fast. So Blind Man's Buff wasgiven up and something quieter tried--Dumb Crambo, I think. But it wasnot very successful either, the little Meadowes needed so much"explaining," which no one was patient enough, or perhaps wise enough,to give clearly. And Lily insisted on being first always, and therewas no one in authority to keep her "in her place," where, when shereally felt she _must_ stay there, she could be a pleasant and brightlittle girl. So game after game came to a bad end, and as the childrengrew tired and their spirits went down, things grew worse and worse,till at last--no, I can best describe it by telling what mammasaw--when feeling rather anxious as to the results of Olive's fit ofindependence, she put her head in at the school-room door an hour ortwo after tea.
There was silence in the room except for the sound of subdued cryingin one corner, which came, not from Bessie Grey--that would not havebeen surprising--but from the smallest Meadowes child, who had tornher frock and refused to listen to comfort from either her sister orMaggie. Harriot stood close by, and ran forward as the door opened.
"Oh, has our nurse come?" she said eagerly. "She's so kind, I'm sureshe'd mend Gussie's frock, and then _her_ nurse wouldn't scold."
"Our nurse isn't cross really," said Mary. "It's only that Gussie'ssilly. I think she's too little to come to a party."
Then catching sight of "mamma" the little girl grew red, and all theothers looked frightened--such of them as saw mamma, that is to say.For Bessie Grey, after a long fit of sobbing, had fallen asleep on thefloor, poor child, an
d--what _do_ you think Olive and Lily were doing?Each with a story-book in her hand, they were comfortably reading atdifferent corners of the room, heedless of the other children'sdullness and tiredness.
"I want to go home," wailed Gussie. On which Bessie suddenly awoke,and began to cry again.
"Please, Gussie _is_ rather tired," said the motherly little Mary. "Doyou think we might go home without waiting for nurse, as it's sonear?"
"And might we be getting our things on too?" said Maggie and Harriot.
Poor Mamma! She could scarcely speak, so ashamed did she feel.
"_Olive!_" she exclaimed. How Olive and Lily too did jump! "Is thisthe way you take care of your guests?"
"They were so stupid," murmured Olive. "And Lily would be leader, andshe was so cross. I thought it was best to leave off playing."
"Come, my poor dear children," said mamma, turning to the five littlegirls. "Don't cry, Bessie dear, or you either, Gussie. We'll get yourfrock mended in a minute, and Cara and Louie will give you a nice gameof musical chairs in the drawing-room to cheer you up before you gohome. There is some fruit waiting for you too."
She marshalled them all off, smiles and chatter soon replacing thetears and yawns. Mamma stopped at the doorway.
"Miss Lily Farquhar," she said, quietly, "you had best remain here andenjoy your book till you are sent for."
To Olive she said not one word. But it was a very humble and penitentlittle girl who came that evening to tell her mother and sisters _how_sorry she was, and _how_ foolish and selfish and ungrateful she nowsaw that she had been.
If Olive ever gives another tea-party I think the _first_ guests sheinvites will be her kind big sisters, Cara and Louie.
The Man with the Pan-Pipes, and Other Stories Page 5
