Adventures of Herr Baby

by Mrs. Molesworth

  CHAPTER II.

  INSIDE A TRUNK

  "For girls are as silly as spoons, dears, And boys are as jolly as bricks. * * * * * Oh Mammy, _you_ tell us a story!-- They won't hear a word that _I_ say."

  "Mother, mother!" they all cried with one voice, and the three big onesjumped up and ran to her, all pulling her at once.

  "Mother, mother, do sit down in the rocking-chair and look comfortable,"said Fritz.

  "There's still some tea. You'll have a cup of _our_ tea, won't you,mother?" said Celia.

  "And some bread and honey," said Denny.

  "It won't spoil your afternoon tea; don't say it will," said alltogether, for nothing would ever make them believe that when mother cameup to the nursery at tea-time it could be allowed that she should nothave a share of whatever there was.

  "Such a good thing we had honey to-night," said Celia, who was busycutting a very dainty piece of bread and butter. "We persuaded Lisa togive it us _extra_, you know, mother, because of the news. And, oh,mother, what do you think Baby says? he----"

  "Baby! what is the matter with him?" interrupted mother.

  They all turned to look at him. Poor Baby, he had set to work to getdown from his chair to run to mother with the others, but the chair washigh and Baby was short, and Lisa, who had gone to the cupboard for afresh cup and saucer for "madame," as she called the children's mother,had not noticed the trouble Herr Baby had got himself into. One littleleg and a part of his body were stuck fast in the open space between thebars at the back, his head had somehow got under the arm of the chair,and could not be got out again without help. And Baby was far too proudto call out for help as long as there was a chance of his doing withoutit. But he really was in a very uncomfortable state, and it was a wonderthat the chair, which was a light wicker one, had not toppled over withthe queer way in which he was hanging. They got him out at last; hisface was very red, and I _think_ the tears had been very near coming,but he choked them down, and looking up gravely he said to his mother,--

  "Him's chair is getting too small. Him hasn't room to turn."

  "Is it really?" said his mother, quite gravely too. She saw that Celiaand Fritz were ready to burst out laughing at poor Baby, and she didn'twant them to do so, for Baby had really been very brave, and now when hewas trying hard not to cry it would have been too bad to laugh at him."Is it really?" she said. "I must see about it, and if it is too smallwe must get you another."

  "Him doesn't want you to pack up _that_ chair," said Baby again, givinghimself a sort of shake, as if to make sure that his head, and his legs,and all the rest of him, were in their proper places after being soturned about and twisted by his struggles in the chair.

  "He's quite in a fuss about packing," said Celia; "that's what I wasgoing to tell you, mother. He stopped in the middle of his tea to thinkabout it, and he said he thought we'd better begin to-night."

  "Yes," said Baby. "There's such _lots_ to pack. All our toys, and thelabbits, and the mouses, and the horses, and the fireplaces, and thetables, and the cups, and the saucers," his eyes wandering round theroom as he went on with his list. "Him thinks we'll need _lots_ of boatsto go in."

  "And two or three railway trains all to ourselves," said mother.

  Baby looked up at her gravely. He could not make out if mother was infun or earnest. His little puzzled face made mother draw him to her andgive him a kiss.

  "It's a shame to talk nonsense to such a serious little man," she said."Don't trouble yourself about the packing, Baby dear. Don't you knowgrandfather, and auntie, and I have had lots of packings to do in ourlives? Why, we had to pack up _two_ houses when we came away from India,and that was much much farther away than where we're going now! And youwere _such_ a tiny baby then--it was very much harder, for mother wasvery very sad, and she never thought you would grow to be a big strongboy like what you are now."

  "Was that when----" began thoughtless Denny, but Fritz gave her a tug.

  "You _know_ it makes mother unhappy to talk about that time," hewhispered; but mother heard him.

  "No, Fritz," she said; "I don't mind Denny thinking about it. I am soglad to have all of you, dears, happy and good, that my sorrow is not sobad as it was. And I am so glad you and Celia can remember your father.Poor Baby--_he_ can't remember him," she said, softly stroking Baby'sface.

  "'Cos he went to Heaven when him was so little," said Baby. Then he puthis arms round mother's neck. "Him and Fritz will soon grow big, and bewerry good to mother," he said. "And ganfather and auntie are werry goodto mother, isn't they?" he added.

  "Yes indeed," said mother; "and to all of you too. What would we dowithout grandfather and auntie?"

  "Some poor little boys and girls has no mothers and ganfathers, and nostockings and shoes, and no _nothings_," said Baby solemnly.

  "There's _some_ things I shouldn't mind not having," said Fritz; "Ishouldn't mind having no lessons."

  "O Fritz," said his sisters; "what a lazy boy you are!"

  "No, I'm just _not_ lazy. I'm awfully fond of doing _everything_--Idon't even mind if it's a hard thing, so long as it isn't anything inbooks," said Fritz, sturdily. "Some people's made one way, and some'smade another, and I'm made the way of not liking books."

  "I wonder what Baby will say to books," said mother, smiling.

  "Is jography in books," said Baby. "Him wants to learn jography."

  "_I_ think it's awfully stupid," said Denny. "I'm sure you won't like itonce you begin. Did _you_ like lessons when you were little, mother?"

  "Yes, I'm sure mother did," said Fritz. "People's fathers and motherswere always far gooder than their children are. I've noticed that. Ifever big people tell you about when they were little, it's always abouthow good they were. And they say always, 'Dear me, how happy childrenshould be nowadays; _we_ were never allowed to do so and so when _we_were little.' That's the way old Mrs. Nesbitt always talks, isn't itmother? I wonder if it's true. If people keep getting naughtier thantheir fathers and mothers were, the world will get _very_ naughty someday. _Is_ it true?"

  "I think it's true that children get to be more spoilt," said Denny in alow voice. "Just look how Baby's clambering all over mother! O Baby,you nearly knocked over mother's cup! _I_ never was allowed to do likethat when _I_ was a little girl."

  Everybody burst out laughing--even mother--but Denny had the goodquality of not minding being laughed at.

  "Was the tea nice, and the bread and butter and honey?" she saideagerly, as mother rose to put the empty cup in a place of safety.

  "Very nice, thank you," said mother. "But I must go, dears. I have agood many things to talk about with grandfather and auntie."

  "Packing?" said Baby.

  "How you do go on about packing!" said Denny. "Of course mother's notgoing to pack to-night."

  Baby's face fell.

  "Him does so want to begin packing," he said dolefully. "'Appose weforgottened somesing, and we was over the sea!"

  "Well, I must talk about it all, and write down all we have to take,"said mother. "So I must go to auntie now."

  "Oh, not yet, not yet. Just five minutes more!" cried the children."And, mother," said Celia, "you've not answered my question. _Is_ ittrue that children used to be so much better long ago? Were you nevernaughty?"

  "Sometimes," said mother, smiling.

  "Oh, I'm so glad!" said Celia. "Often, mother? I do hope you were oftennaughty. Do tell us a story about something naughty you did when youwere little. You know it would be a good lesson for us. It would show ushow awfully good one may learn to be, for, you know, you're awfully goodnow."

  "Yes, of course you are," said Fritz and Denny.

  "Mother's _dedfully_ good," said Baby, poking up his face from her kneewhere he had again perched himself, to kiss her. "Do tell him one storyof when you was a little girl, mother."

  Mother's face seemed for a minute rather puzzled. Then it suddenlycleared up.

  "I will tell you a very little story," sh
e said; "it really is a verylittle story, but it is as long as I have time for just now, and it mayamuse you. Baby's packing put it in my head."

  "Is it about when you were a little girl, mother?" interrupted Denny.

  "Yes. Well, when I was a little girl, I had no mother."

  The elder children nodded their heads. But Baby, to whom it was a newidea, shook his sadly.

  "Zat was a gate pity," he said. "Poor mother to have no mother. Had youno shoes and stockings, and nothing nice to eat?"

  "You sill----" began Denny, but mother stopped her.

  "Oh yes," she said, "I had shoes and stockings, and everything I wanted,for I had a very kind father. You know how kind grandfather is? And Ihad a kind sister whom you know too. But when I was a little girl, mysister was not herself _very_ big, and she had a great deal to do _for_a not very big girl, you know. There were our brothers, for we hadseveral, and though they were generally away at school there seemedalways something to do for them--letters to write to them, if there wasnothing else--and then, in the holidays, there were all their newshirts, and stockings, and things to get to take back to school. Helenseemed always busy. She had been at school too, before your grandfathercame back from India, for five years, bringing me with him, quite a weelittle girl of four. And Helen was so happy to be with us again, thatshe begged not to go back to school, and, as she was really very wellon for her age, grandfather let her stay at home."

  "There, you see," whispered Celia, nudging Fritz. "It's beginning--italways does--you hear how awfully good auntie was."

  Mother went on quietly. If she heard what Celia said she took no notice."Grandfather let her stay at home and have lessons there. She had agreat many lessons to learn for her age besides those that one learnsout of books. She had to learn to be very active, and very thoughtful,and, above all, very patient. For the little sister she had to take careof was, I am afraid, a very spoilt little girl when she first came home.Grandfather had spoiled her without meaning it; he was so sorry for herbecause she had no mother, and Helen was so sorry for her too, that itwas rather difficult for her not to spoil her as well."

  Here Baby himself "inrumpted."

  "Him doesn't understand," he said. "Who _were_ that little girl? Himwants a story about mother when _her_ was a little girl;" and thecorners of his mouth went down, and his eyes grew dewy-looking, in avery sad way.

  There was one trunk which took my fancy more than all the others.--P. 30.]

  "Poor Baby," said mother. "I'll try and tell it more plainly. _I_ wasthat little girl, and auntie was my sister Helen. I must get on with mylittle story. I was forgetting that Baby would not quite understand.Well, one day to my great delight, Helen told me that grandfather wasgoing to take her and me and the two brothers, who were then at home, tospend Christmas with one of our aunts in London. This aunt had childrentoo, and though I had never seen them Helen told me they were very nice,for she knew them well, as she used to go there for her holidays beforewe came home. She told me most about a little girl called Lilly, who wasjust about my age. I had never had a little friend of my own age, and Iwas always talking and thinking about how nice it would be, and I wasquite vexed with Helen because she would not begin to pack up at once. Iwas always teasing her to know what trunks we should take, and if all mydolls might go, and I am sure poor Helen often wished she had not toldme anything about it till the very day before. I got in the way of goingup to the big attic where the trunks were kept, and of looking at themand wondering which would go, and wishing Helen would let me have oneall for myself and my dolls and their things. There was one trunk whichtook my fancy more than all the others. It was an old-fashionedtrunk, but it must have been a very good one, for it shut with a sort ofspring, and inside it had several divisions, some with little lids oftheir own, and I used to think how nice it would be for me, I could putall my dolls in so beautifully, and each would have a kind of house foritself. I don't remember how I managed to get it open, perhaps it hadbeen a little open when I first began my visits to the attic, for thelid was very heavy, and I was neither big nor strong for my age. But it_was_ open, and it stayed so, for no one else ever went up to the atticbut I. The other people in the house were too busy, and no one wouldhave thought there was anything amusing in looking at empty trunks in arow. But I went up to the attic day after day. I climbed up the narrowstaircase as soon as I had had my breakfast, and stayed there till Iheard my nurse calling me to get ready to go out, or to come to mylessons, for I was beginning to learn to read, and I used to have alittle lesson every day. And at last one day I said to my sister,

  "'Helen, may I have the big trunk with the little cupboards in it for_my_ trunk?'

  "Helen was busy at the time, and I don't think she heard exactly what Isaid. She answered me hurriedly that she would see about it afterwards.But I went on teasing.

  "'May I begin putting Marietta and Lady Regina into the little cupboardsinside?' I said.

  "'Oh yes, I daresay you can if you like,' said Helen. She told meafterwards that when I spoke of cupboards she never thought I meant atrunk, she thought I was speaking of some of the nursery cupboards.

  "It was just bed-time then, too late for me to go to the attic, for Iknew there was no chance of my getting leave to go up there with acandle. But I fell asleep with my head full of how nicely I could putthe dolls into the trunk, each with her clothes beside her, and the veryfirst thing the next morning I got them all together and I mounted up tothe attic. I had never told nurse about my going up there. Once ortwice, perhaps, she had seen me coming down the stair, but very likelyshe had thought I had only been a little way up to look out of a windowthere was there. I don't know why I didn't tell her, perhaps I wasafraid of her stopping my going. I waited till she was busy about herwork, fetching coals and so on, and then I trotted off with Lady Reginaunder one arm and Marietta under the other, and a bundle of theirclothes tied up in my pinafore before, to make my way upstairs to thedelightful trunk. It was open as usual, and after putting my dolls andbundles down on the floor, I managed to lift out the two top trays. Oneof them was much larger than the other, and it was in what I called thecupboards below the smaller one that I settled to put Regina andMarietta. There were two of these little cupboards, and each had a lid.They would just do beautifully. Under the larger tray there was just onebig space without a lid, 'just a hole,' I called it. I went on for alittle time, laying in some of the clothes first to make a nice softplace for the dolls to lie on, but I soon got tired. It was so very farto reach over, for the outside edges of the box were high, higher ofcourse than the _inside_ divisions, for the trays I had taken out, whichlay on the top of the lower spaces, were a good depth, and there hadbeen no division between them. It came into my head that it would bemuch easier if I were to get into the box myself--I could stand in thebig hole, as I called it, and reach over to the little divisions where Iwanted to put the dolls, and it would be far less tiring than trying toreach over from the outside. So I clambered in--it was not verydifficult--and when I found myself really inside the trunk I was sopleased that I sat down cross-legged, like a little Turk, to take a restbefore going on with what I called my packing. But sitting still forlong was not in my way--I soon jumped up again, meaning to reach overfor Lady Regina, who was lying on the floor beside the trunk, but, howit happened I cannot tell, I suppose I somehow caught the tapes whichfastened the lid; any way down it came! It did not hurt me much, for Ihad not had time to stretch out my head, and the weight fell mostly onmy shoulders, sideways as it were, and before I knew what had happened Ifound myself doubled up somehow in my hole, with the heavy lid on thetop of me, all in the dark, except a little line of light round theedge, for the lid had not shut quite down; the hasp of the lock--as thelittle sticking-out piece is called--had caught in the fall, and waswedged into a wrong place. So, luckily for me, there was still a spacefor some air to come in, and a little light, though very little. I wasdreadfully frightened at first; then I began to get over my fright alittle, and to struggle to get
out. Of course my first idea was to tryto push up the lid with my head and shoulders; I remember the feeling ofit pushing back upon me--the dreadful feeling that I couldn't move it,that I was shut up there and couldn't get out! I was too little tounderstand all at once that there could be any danger, that I mightperhaps be suffocated--that means choked, Baby--for want of air; or thatI might really be hurt by being so cramped and doubled up. And reallythere was not much danger; if I had been older I should have been morefrightened than there was really any reason to be. But I was big enoughto begin very quickly to get very angry and impatient. I had never inall my life been forced to do anything I disliked; often and often mynurse, and sometimes Helen, had begged me to try to sit still for aminute or two, but I never would. And now the lesson of having to givein to something much worse than sitting still in my nice little chair bythe nursery fire, or standing still for two minutes while a new frockwas tried on, had to be learnt! There was no getting rid of it; I kickedand I pushed, it was no use; the strong heavy lid which had been toIndia and back two or three times would not move the least bit. I triedto poke out my fingers through the little space that was left, but Icould not find the lock, and it was a good thing I did not, for if I hadtouched the hasp, most likely the lid would have fallen quite into itsplace, crushing my poor little fingers, and shutting me in without anyair at all. At last I thought of another plan. I set to work screaming.

  "'Nurse, nurse, Nelly, oh Nelly,' I cried, and at last I shouted, 'Papa,_Papa_, PAPA,' at the top of my voice. But it was no use! Most childrenwould have begun screaming at the very first. But I was not a_frightened_ child, and I was very proud. I did not want any one to findme shut up in a box like that, besides, they would be sure to stop myever coming up to the attic again. So it was not till I had tired myselfout with trying to push up the lid that I set to work to screaming, andthat made it all the more provoking that my calls brought no one. Atlast I got so out of patience that I set to work again kicking for nouse at all, but just because I was so angry. I kicked and screamed, andat last I burst into tears and _roared_. Then I caught sight, throughthe chink, of Lady Regina's blue dress, where the doll was lying on thefloor near the trunk.

  "'Nasty Regina,' I shouted, 'nasty, ugly Regina. You are lying there asif there was nothing the matter, and it was all for you I came up here.I hate dolls--they never do nothing. If you were a little dog you'd goand bark, and then somebody would come and let me out.'

  "Then I went on crying and sobbing till I was perfectly tired, and thenwhat do you think I did? Though I was so uncomfortable, all crushed upinto a little ball, I went to sleep! I went to sleep as soundly as if Ihad been in my own little bed, and afterwards I found, from what theytold me, that I must have slept quite two hours. When I woke up I couldnot think where I was. I felt so stiff and sore, and when I tried tostretch myself out I could not, and then I remembered where I was! Itseemed quite dark; I wondered if it was night, till I noticed the littlechink of light at the edge of the lid, and then I began to cry again,but not so wildly as before. All of a sudden I thought I heard asound--some one was coming upstairs! and then I heard voices.

  "'Fallen out of the window,' one said. 'Oh no, nurse, she _couldn't_!She could never get through.'

  "But yet the person seemed to be looking out of the window all the same,for I heard them opening and shutting it. And then I called out again.

  "'Oh Nelly, Nelly. I'se here; I'se shut up in the big box with thecupboards.'

  "They didn't hear me at first. My little voice must have sounded veryfaint and squeaky from out of the trunk, besides they were not half-wayup the attic-stairs. So I went on crying--

  "'Oh Nelly, Nelly! I'se up here. Oh Nelly, Nelly!'

  "She heard me this time. Dear Nelly! I never have called to her in vain,children, in all my life. And in half a minute she had dashed up thestairs, and, guided by my voice, was kneeling down beside the trunk.

  "'Little May, my poor little May,' Nelly called out; and do you know Ireally think she was crying too! I was--by the time Nelly and theservants who were with her had got the lid unhooked and raised, and hadlifted me out--I was in floods of tears. I clung to Nelly, and told herhow 'dedful' it had been, and she petted me so that I am afraid I quiteforgot it was all my own fault.

  "'You might have been there for hours and hours, May,' Nelly said to me,'if it hadn't been for nurse thinking of the window on the stair. Youmust never go off by yourself to do things like that,' and when I toldher that I had asked her and she had given me leave, she said she hadnot at all known what I meant, and that I must try to remember not totease about things once I had been told to wait. Any way I think I hadgot a good lesson of patience that day, and one that I never forgot, forit really is not at all a pleasant thing to be shut up in a big trunk."

  Mother stopped.

  Baby, who had been listening with solemn eyes, said slowly,

  "Him will not pack by hisself. Him will wait till somebody can help him.It would be so dedful sad if him was to get shuttened up like poorlittle mother, and perhaps you'd all go away ac'oss the sea and nebberfind him."

  The corners of his mouth went down at this sorrowful picture, and hiseyes looked as if they were beginning to think about crying. But motherand Celia set to work petting and kissing him before the tears had timeto come.

  "As if we would ever go across the sea without _him_," said mother.

  "Why, we should never know how to do _anything_ without Herr Baby," saidCelia.

  "Fritz and Baby will do all the fussy things in travelling--taking thetickets, and counting the luggage, and all that--they're such big men,aren't they?" said Denny, with mischief in her twinkling green eyes.

  "Now you, just mind what you're about," said Fritz, gallantly. "You'llmake him cry just when mother's been comforting him up. Such stupidsgirls are!" he added in a lower voice.

  "I really must go now," said mother, getting up from her chair. "Auntiewill not know what has become of me. I have been up here, why a wholehalf hour, instead of five minutes!"

  "Auntie will think mother's got shut up in a trunk again," said Denny,whose tongue _never_ could be still for long, and at this piece of witthey all burst out laughing.

  All but Herr Baby. He couldn't see that it was any laughing matter.Mother's story had sunk deep into his mind. Trunks were things to becareful of. Baby saw this clearly.