Under the Lilacs | Page 2

Louisa May Alcott
sort of jig upon the door.
Hanging was evidently not a painful operation, for she smiled
contentedly, and looked as if the red ribbon around her neck was not
uncomfortably tight; therefore, if slow suffocation suited her, who else
had any right to complain? So a pleasing silence reigned, not even
broken by a snore from Dinah, the top of whose turban alone was
visible above the coverlet, or a cry from baby Jane, though her bare feet
stuck out in a way that would have produced shrieks from a less
well-trained infant.
Presently voices were heard approaching, and through the arch which
led to a side-path came two little girls, one carrying a small pitcher, the
other proudly bearing a basket covered with a napkin. They looked like
twins, but were not, for Bab was a year older than Betty, though only
an inch taller. Both had on brown calico frocks, much the worse for a
week's wear; but clean pink pinafores, in honor of the occasion, made
up for that, as well as the gray stockings and thick boots. Both had
round, rosy faces rather sunburnt, pug noses somewhat freckled, merry
blue eyes, and braided tails of hair hanging down their backs like those
of the dear little Kenwigses.
"Don't they look sweet?" cried Bab, gazing with maternal pride upon

the left-hand row of dolls, who might appropriately have sung in chorus,
"We are seven."
"Very nice; but my Belinda beats them all. I do think she is the
splendidest child that ever was!" And Betty set down the basket to run
and embrace the suspended darling, just then kicking up her heels with
joyful abandon.
"The cake can be cooling while we fix the children. It does smell
perfectly delicious!" said Bab, lifting the napkin to hang over the basket,
fondly regarding the little round loaf that lay inside.
"Leave some smell for me!" commanded Betty, running back to get her
fair share of the spicy fragrance. The pug noses sniffed it up
luxuriously, and the bright eyes feasted upon the loveliness of the cake,
so brown and shiny, with a tipsy-looking B in pie-crust staggering
down one side, instead of sitting properly a-top.
"Ma let me put it on the very last minute, and it baked so hard I couldn't
pick it off. We can give Belinda that piece, so it's just as well,"
observed Betty, taking the lead, as her child was queen of the revel.
"Let's set them round, so they can see too," proposed Bab, going, with a
hop, skip, and jump, to collect her young family.
Betty agreed, and for several minutes both were absorbed in seating
their dolls about the table; for some of the dear things were so limp
they wouldn't sit up, and others so stiff they wouldn't sit down, and all
sorts of seats had to be contrived to suit the peculiarities of their spines.
This arduous task accomplished, the fond mammas stepped back to
enjoy the spectacle, which, I assure you, was an impressive one.
Belinda sat with great dignity at the head, her hands genteelly holding a
pink cambric pocket-handkerchief in her lap. Josephus, her cousin, took
the foot, elegantly arrayed in a new suit of purple and green gingham,
with his speaking countenance much obscured by a straw hat several
sizes too large for him; while on either side sat guests of every size,
complexion, and costume, producing a very gay and varied effect, as all
were dressed with a noble disregard of fashion.

"They will like to see us get tea. Did you forget the buns?" inquired
Betty, anxiously.
"No; got them in my pocket." And Bab produced from that chaotic
cupboard two rather stale and crumbly ones, saved from lunch for the
fete. These were cut up and arranged in plates, forming a graceful circle
around the cake, still in its basket.
"Ma couldn't spare much milk, so we must mix water with it. Strong tea
isn't good for children, she says." And Bab contentedly surveyed the
gill of skim-milk which was to satisfy the thirst of the company.
"While the tea draws and the cake cools, let's sit down and rest; I'm so
tired!" sighed Betty, dropping down on the door-step and stretching out
the stout little legs which had been on the go all day; for Saturday had
its tasks as well as its fun, and much business had preceded this unusual
pleasure. Bab went and sat beside her, looking idly down the walk
toward the gate, where a fine cobweb shone in the afternoon sun.
"Ma says she is going over the house in a day or two, now it is warm
and dry after the storm, and we may go with her. You know she
wouldn't take us in the fall,
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