MISS PARROTT looked the two children over carefully. Then her glance rested on David. He sat
tucked up in the corner of the green-leather seat, as far away from the keen dark eyes as he could get,
his hand tightly clasped in Polly’s.
“Now then,” said Miss Parrott, the investigation1 being over, “you must tell me everything about it. I
was unable to get a satisfactory account at Atkins’ store. Begin, little boy.”
Davie gave a sob2, and ducked farther back into his corner. This was so much worse than being
waylaid3 for a recital4 of his adventure by the ordinary run of Badgertown citizens, that he couldn’t
conceal5 his dismay. To think of being fastened up in the Parrott coach and made to tell of what was
now a perfectly6 hateful thing since he was to be petted and praised for his part in it, made him sob
again; and he flung himself up against Polly and hid his burning face on her shoulder.
“Oh, Miss Parrott,” Polly broke out, “Davie cannot bear to talk about it. He only did what he ought
to.” She forgot that she was talking to the aristocratic lady, whose comings and goings in this same
stately coach to the little church on Badgertown green were eagerly watched for of a Sunday. She
raised her brown eyes pleadingly.
“That is where you are very wrong to encourage your little brother in refusing to answer my
questions. And I must insist on knowing all about what happened.” The tall aristocratic figure on the
seat opposite loomed7 up so forbiddingly that Polly had all she could do to keep from joining in
Davie’s distress8. But this would never do. Besides, Miss Parrott was saying, “I am sure your mother,
whom I have heard brings you children up most excellently, would wish your little brother to answer
my questions.”
“Davie,” said Polly desperately9, bending her head down to his ear, “you must sit up and tell Miss
Parrott about it. Mamsie would want you to.”
She had to say it over three times, “Mamsie would want you to,” for instead of sitting up, Davie
burrowed10 deeper against her shoulder. At last her tone was so decided11, that anything being more
desirable than to lose Polly’s approval, David somehow got up into a sitting posture12; and before he
quite knew what he was going to say, there he was doing his best to let Miss Parrott understand just
what happened in Mr. Atkins’ store. He must please Mamsie.
And to his great surprise and relief, Miss Parrott never said one word of praise for anything that he
did, and as for petting him, she still sat bolt upright at the conclusion of the tale, and only said,
“Thank you for telling me.”
David drew himself up, and began to enjoy himself. As for Polly, her brown eyes danced and the
color came back in her cheeks.
“I am going to take you home with me,” said Miss Parrott suddenly.
“Oh,” cried Polly, wrenched13 away from the bliss14 of actually driving in the Parrott coach, “we can’t
go. Mamsie doesn’t know where we are, and we ought to go home now.”
“I suppose,” said Miss Parrott reflectively, “that I ought to drive around and ask your mother.” But
she bit her lip, being accustomed to do all things as she chose without leave or license15 from anybody.
Still a woman should be asked about the movements of her own children. So she gave the order to the
old coachman, and the horses were soon turned in the direction of the little brown house.
Davie forgot himself and sprang out without a word of thanks, and rushed up to the old green door.
“Oh, do forgive him, Miss Parrott,” begged Polly in distress, “he didn’t mean to be rude.”
For answer Miss Parrott only said, “Will you ask your mother to come out here?” But she smiled, so
Polly knew that things weren’t so very bad, and she ran up the path, greatly relieved.
And presently Mrs. Pepper came out, with Polly, and to the great astonishment16, said, “Yes, the
children could go,” and “Run in, and put a clean blouse on, Davie.”
“The boy looks well enough,” said Miss Parrott decidedly. “I’m sure you keep your children always
clean, Mrs. Pepper,—everybody says so.”
But Mrs. Pepper only smiled, and Polly ran into the house to get Davie ready. For when Mamsie said
a thing, she always meant it, and pretty soon out they came, Davie quite fresh in another calico
blouse and not entirely17 at rest in his mind as to the visit at the Parrott estate.
When they drove up with a flourish before the big front door with carved stone lions on either side,
Davie held Polly’s hand closely, and surveyed everything with wide blue eyes.
The butler, a dignitary resplendent enough in the children’s eyes to be the owner of many estates,
came down the wide hall. Miss Parrott gave him instructions concerning her guests, whom he viewed
with cold unconcern.
“Now, then, children,” she said, “I’m going to take you into the garden and leave you there. You will
be called when luncheon18 is served,” and turning off from the big hall to a narrow passage, they came
to a green lattice door.
Miss Parrott opened this. “Oh!” cried Polly, clasping her hands in delight. And Davie forgot his fright
and gave a little squeal19.
“It’s so perfectly beautiful!” exclaimed Polly.
An old-fashioned garden, bright with hollyhocks and all sorts of dear, homely20 flowers, a little square
plot in the center, around which were stone seats, burst upon their view. All off in the distance were
terraces and lawns, with all manner of splendid trees, and pleasant paths intersecting.
Miss Parrott’s long gaunt face drew up into a pleasant smile that seemed to say, “Good-by to your
wrinkles.”
“Now run along, children, and enjoy yourselves,” she said. “You will be called when luncheon is
ready. Be sure that you come in at once.”
“Polly,” said Davie in an awe21-struck voice, “do you suppose the lady can come in here every time she
wants to?”
“Of course,” said Polly, longing22 to hop23 up and down, but perhaps some one would see her and it
wouldn’t be considered proper. “Why, she lives here, Davie.”
Davie drew a long breath. To live in this beautiful place and come out in this wonderful garden! He
drew a long breath and stood quite still beside the green lattice door.
“Let’s go and sit down on one of those little stone seats,” said Polly.
So the children walked quite properly over and sat down on one of the seats in the little green square.
“Polly,” said Davie, “I very much wish that we could go over under those trees,” pointing to a bit of
greensward where the noonday sun was making cool shadows.
“Why, we can,” said Polly; “Miss Parrott said we could run about and enjoy it all.” She got off from
the little stone seat and held out her hand.
“Oh, Polly, can we really run?” cried Davie in great excitement.
“Yes, indeed,” cried Polly, finding her courage in David’s happiness. “Come on, I’ll race you to that
big pine-tree.”
“Now what does Miss Parrott want with the likes of them poor children,” exclaimed a scornful
housemaid, peering out of the green lattice door.
“Hevin knows!” cried the butler, raising both hands, “and they are actually to stay to luncheon.”
“Oh—oh!” ejaculated the housemaid with a sniff24.
Up-stairs under the gambrel roof overrun with sweet-brier, Miss Parrott was sitting by her window,
listening to the childish peals25 of laughter, as Polly and David played hide-and-seek between the
ancestral trees.
“I haven’t felt so happy here,” placing her hand on her heart, “since Sister and I played there. Strange
that I dreaded26 asking children here.”
The butler flung open the green lattice door, and said harshly, “Come in to luncheon,” and started to
find Miss Parrott just behind him.
“That is scarcely the way to summon my guests,” she said.
“Beg pardon, Ma’am,” said the butler obsequiously27.
“I want you to go out and treat them as you would any other of my friends,” said Miss Parrott.
And the butler with a sullen28 face but a back that expressed nothing but complete submission29, stalked
down the garden path to the big trees whence the happy sounds proceeded. And the scornful
housemaid confided30 it all to the equally disdainful cook, who said never in her twenty-five years of
service on the Parrott estate had she seen such goings on.
When the three were seated around the luncheon table in the handsome dining-room, Davie was quite
overwhelmed at the array of silver and glass that shone upon the polished mahogany table. And Polly
turned pale and only hoped they should neither of them do anything to disgrace Mamsie.
But although they didn’t know what to do with all the knives and forks, Miss Parrott never appeared
to notice. Polly, who hadn’t been able to forget the disdainful butler, saw him back of Davie’s chair
scornfully survey the efforts to carry the food up nicely to the small mouth and the color flew over
her cheek. Then Miss Parrott said to him, “I sha’n’t require you any more. Bring me the bell—and I
will ring if I need you.”
And the butler quite humble31 once more, brought the little silver bell from the massive sideboard
heavy with ancestral plate, and went out of the room, his head lowered by several inches. Polly’s hot
flush died down on her cheek, and things began to get comfortable.
“Now,” said Miss Parrott, when luncheon was over, “I am going to show you some things that I
played with when I was a little girl.” She had a faint pink color on her sallow face, and she smiled as
if quite content. But still she didn’t know what to do with her guests to make them happy.
David wanted to ask, “Were you ever a little girl?” as he looked the long, angular figure up and
down, but he kept quite still.
“Oh, would you really?” cried Polly in delight.
“Yes,” said Miss Parrott, greatly pleased, “would you really like to see them?”
“Oh, we would—we would!” declared Polly.
“Come this way then,” and out into the big wide hall, and over a broad and winding32 staircase dim
with the shaded light of a tall Colonial window, they went, then down a narrow passage, at the end of
which were two cunning little steps.
“Here was our playroom—Sister’s and mine,” said Miss Parrott, pausing at a door, and taking a key
from her black silk bag, she fitted it in the lock. And presently there they all three were in a long,
low-ceilinged room. It had shelves on two sides filled with books and games, and dolls—and there
was a small table in the center, and little chairs scattered33 about.
Miss Parrott turned her back on it suddenly, and made as if she were going out. But she faced the
children in a minute and smiled, and again she put her hand to her heart.
“Now you can each pick out something, and I will tell you about it,” she said, seating herself on an
old-fashioned broad sofa.
Polly stood quite still before her with shining eyes. “Can we really touch the things?” she asked.
“Yes, all you like,” and Miss Parrott actually laughed.
“Davie,” Polly ran up to him, “we can choose something and take it to her and she will tell us about
it,” she said. Then she ran off to the corner where the dolls sat up in all their faded and old-fashioned
glory.
David went over to one of the book-shelves. At first he only gazed; then he put a timid finger on one
and another. At last he selected a worn old reader whose pages were interspersed34 with pictures, and
holding it closely, he marched up with it to Miss Parrott’s sofa, just as Polly came flying up with a
big rag doll in a little checked silk gown, a quaint35 neckerchief, and a big mob-cap.
“I will tell you about yours first,” said Miss Parrott, taking the doll. Then she laughed, “Well, you see
Sister and I both had the promise of a new doll. We were to own it together, because that was the way
we had everything,” and she waved her hand around the playroom. “Well, our mother had given the
order to have it made and dressed, and its face was to be painted by a real artist. Oh, you can’t think
how we watched for that doll. We were quite impatient for its arrival. The lady who was to dress it
kept sending word that she had been detained from doing the work, but that it was to be quite fine.
We were letting our imaginations run riot with all sorts of splendid ideas on just how that doll was to
look. Sister decided it would be dressed in a pink satin gown with a little pink cap,—but I hoped it
would be all in blue. Well, we used to watch at the window, a part of every day for the big box
containing that precious doll.
“At last one day Sister was at the window, and she screamed ‘Judith—Judith!’”
Davie forgot his awe, to burst out, “Was that your name?”
“Yes, dear,” said Miss Parrott, very much pleased that he had found his tongue. “I was named for my
grandmother.”
“Oh,” said David.
“And Sarah was my sister’s name; she was named for our mother.”
“Oh,” said David again.
“Well, we ran after the big box as it was carried into the sitting-room36, and Mother had one of the
maids cut the heavy cord and then Sister and I were each to lift one end of the cover and take it off.
You can’t imagine, children, what that moment, so long waited for, was to us!”
Polly and Davie each side of Miss Parrott, the big rag doll on her lap, didn’t dare to breathe, so afraid
they should miss something of this great moment.
“We lifted the tissue paper with trembling fingers, and there lay this doll,” Miss Parrott lifted it, “and
we had watched every day for a pink or a blue satin one!”
Polly broke the silence first. “Oh, I think this one was the nicest to play with.”
“So it was, child, but we were silly little girls, and we had set our hearts on quite another kind of doll.
Well, what do you think we did? I am quite ashamed to tell you, but you shall have the whole story.
We threw ourselves down on the floor, our arms around each other, and declared we didn’t want that
doll.”
“O dear!” exclaimed Polly.
“And so our mother said ‘Very well,’ and she had the tissue paper all put back over the doll, the
cover put on and the box tied up. And then it was taken away and put up on a shelf over the linen37
press.”
“O dear!” breathed Polly again.
“And that doll stayed up there all one year, and we never said we were sorry, and asked for her. And
one day an awkward servant in cleaning that shelf, knocked the box off, and then he became
frightened, so he opened it to see if he’d broken anything. And somebody calling him, he left the box
on the floor, and a little dog we had, a mischievous38 creature, ran into the linen-room and stuck his
nose in the box.”
“O dear!” exclaimed Polly and David together.
“And Towsle—”
“Was that his name?” asked Davie, pressing up to her black silk gown in great excitement.
“Yes, dear,” said Miss Parrott, smiling down into his blue eyes. “Well, Towsle nipped that doll up in
his sharp teeth, and ran off down- stairs with her. And Sister heard him coming and she called
‘Towsle—Towsle’ for she wanted him to come and play with her. But Towsle was going to have a
great deal more pleasure he thought with the doll, so he hid behind one of the big carved chairs in the
hall. And then when he thought she had gone safely by, he crept out. But she spied him, and she
screamed, ‘Oh, he’s got our doll!’ and Uncle John, who was in the sitting-room with Mother, ran out
with her. But Towsle—oh, there was no catching39 him then, for—”
“And didn’t they catch him?” burst in Davie with round blue eyes.
“Why, yes, dear,” Miss Parrott pointed40 to the doll in her lap.
“Oh, yes,” said Davie with a sigh of relief, looking down at it.
“But in flying down the long steps at last, Towsle caught one of his feet in the doll’s dress, and over
he rolled from the top to the bottom. But he wouldn’t give up the doll. And then I heard the noise,
and I ran out from the garden, and before Mother and Uncle John and Sister got there, I seized the
doll, and Towsle pulled and I pulled—and there,” Miss Parrott turned the doll over in her lap, “the
silk gown was torn. You can scarcely see the place, for our mother mended it so neatly41.”
The Pepper children bent42 over to scan closely the rent in the back of the checked silk gown.
“I shouldn’t know it was mended,” declared Polly at last.
“No, would you?” said Miss Parrott, with bright eyes. “Our mother was a most beautiful sewer43. Well,
we couldn’t help laughing, Towsle was so funny, and he tried to get that doll away from me after I
had at last torn it from him. And then Sister cried right out, ‘Oh, our poor doll!’—and then I cried
over her, and we petted her up. And we said we’d love her forever after.”
“That was nice,” said Polly, smoothing down her gown in great satisfaction.
“And we called her ‘Priscilla,’ and we took her to bed with us every night,” finished Miss Parrott.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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2
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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3
waylaid
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| v.拦截，拦路( waylay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
recital
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| n.朗诵，独奏会，独唱会 | |
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5
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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6
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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7
loomed
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| v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的过去式和过去分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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8
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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9
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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10
burrowed
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
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11
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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12
posture
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| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
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13
wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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14
bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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15
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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16
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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17
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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18
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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19
squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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20
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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21
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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22
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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23
hop
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| n.单脚跳，跳跃；vi.单脚跳，跳跃；着手做某事；vt.跳跃，跃过 | |
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24
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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25
peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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26
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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27
obsequiously
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28
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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29
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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30
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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31
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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32
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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33
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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34
interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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35
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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36
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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37
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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38
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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39
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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40
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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41
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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42
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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43
sewer
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| n.排水沟，下水道 | |
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