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Six kisses had hardly resounded from Aunty's blooming cheeks when a most attractive box was produced from the Russia leather bag, and the wandering dolls restored to the arms of their enraptured mammas. A small volume neatly written and adorned with a few pictures of the most exciting incidents of the trip also appeared.
What's the answer, Vee?" "There's only one," says she. "I'm going to take Helma home with me." "What about Aunty?" says I. At which Vee's lips come together and her shoulders straighten. "I know," says she, "there'll be a row. Aunty's always saying that such affairs should be handled by institutions. But this time well, we'll see. Come, Helma." "Oh, is it true?" gasps the youngster.
I should never get a chance of speaking to her. We were divided by a great gulf of Aunties and Alberts and meat sandwiches. The train was beginning to slow down. Signs of returning animation began to be noticeable among the sleepers. Aunty's eyes opened, stared vacantly round, closed, and reopened. The niece woke, and started instantly to attack a sausage roll. Albert and Ukridge slumbered on.
"<i>Dido et dux</i>," and so do Boston epicures. I'll sell at private sales, not for hotels! Is there, is there any "money in hens?" To show how a child would revel in a little rational enjoyment on a farm, read this dear little poem of James Whitcomb Riley's: AT AUNTY'S HOUSE.
She made right straight for the door, dashed in atween old aunty's legs, and carries her out on her back, ridin' straddle-legs like a man, and tumbles her head over heels in the duck pond of dirty water outside, and then lays down along side of her, to put the fire out in its tail and cool itself.
She wiped them fast, but before she could see clearly, the wharf was far distant, and Aunty's face was only a white spot among other white spots, which were partly faces and partly fluttering handkerchiefs. A few minutes more and the spots grew dim, the wharf could no longer be seen, the vessel began to rock and plunge in the waves, and the great steamer was fairly at sea.
"Nigger buyer," he said, "if you are around this town from now till midnight, or after midnight to-morrer, Sunday night, ole Meshach Milburn will have you in that air jail till Spring. By smoke! he'll find out yer aunty's cedents, whair you goin, whair you been, what's yer splurge, an all yer hokey pokey. You've struck the Ark of the Lord this time ole Milburn's Entailed Hat!
Aunty's one of the kind that would pick out a Count for Miss Vee, and there was plenty of Counts over there to be picked; but somehow I couldn't picture Vee goin' wild over one of them foreign ginks. It was clear she had, though. There it was on the postcard, "He's a dear!" "Huh!" thinks I. "Most of 'em are dear at any price."
Little fairy Annie danced by her side, now stopping to gather a flower, now to listen to a bird, chatting and laughing all the way, as though she were a bird herself, and never heeding Aunty's melancholy looks or short answers. "Who are those people?" asked Mrs. Randolph of her husband, as she watched the odd-looking pair come along the road. "Do look, Harry.
"Yes, Aun' Sheba, you can say what you please hereafter, and I want you to come and go openly. I should have taken the stand before and saved you from coming out evenings. It has been far more on Aunty's account than on my own." "Well, honey, now my min's at res' an' I belebe we do po'ful lot ob trade.
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