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  CHAPTER IV.

  PLAYING HINDOO.

  "Johnny, Johnny, come to the window, quick!" said Dotty; "see thisbird!"

  "I've seen birds before," replied her little cousin, coolly, and walkingas slowly as possible.

  "But this one peeps as if he was hurt; see how he pecks to get in."

  "Don't you take him in!" exclaimed Angeline, the kitchen girl; "it's abad sign to have birds come fluttering round a window."

  "What do you mean by a _sign_?" asked Dotty, who had never heard of anysilly superstitions in her life.

  "Let him alone," cried Johnny, "or you'll die before the week's out,sure's you live!"

  Dotty laughed. "A bird can't make me die," said she, seizing thetrembling little oriole, and holding him close to her bosom. "O, youbirdie darling! Did your mamma go 'way off, and couldn't find a worm?Dotty'll be your mamma, so she will."

  She put him in a basket stuffed with rags, and hung over him tenderlyfor half an hour.

  "You're bringing down trouble, I'm afraid, child," said Angeline,gravely, as she walked back and forth, doing her work.

  Mrs. Parlin, away off at Willowbrook, was at that moment bathing Mrs.Clifford's forehead. I think she might have dropped the sponge in dismayif she had known what pernicious nonsense was finding its way intoDotty's ears.

  Just as Angeline was in the midst of a ghost story, Johnny rushed inagain.

  "Come," said he, shaking Dotty by the shoulders, "let's go play poison."

  "O, no, Johnny. I'm hearing the nicest, awfullest story! And then itrains so, too!"

  "Doesn't, either. Only sprinkles. And when it sprinkles, it's a _sure_sign it isn't going to rain."

  "Who told you so?"

  "Your grandmother Read. She's a Quaker, and she can't lie. Come, DotParlin; if you don't like poison, come out and play soldier."

  "I don't want to play a single thing; so there, now, Johnny Eastman!"

  "Then you're a cross old party, miss."

  "I'm not a party at all. I'm only one girl."

  "O, Dotty!" called Prudy from the cellar-way; "take care! take care!"

  "So I am taking care," returned Dotty, stoutly. "For my own motherdoesn't 'low me to go out doors and get rained on, and he knows it."

  It was coming, Prudy feared--her sister's naughty temper. She saw ashadow no larger than a man's hand; but it would not do to let it grow.She must brush it away at once.

  "Let's play something in the house," said she, quickly.

  "All right," returned Johnny; "only not sit down."

  "Yes, let's _do_ sit down," interposed Dotty, with a view to thwartingJohnny.

  "Suppose we play Hindoo," suggested Prudy, "if we can get Susy andFlossy into it."

  "Play what?"

  "Why, play we are Hindoos, and live away off in the Indian Ocean."

  "Fishes or sharks?" asked Johnny, growing interested.

  "O, _people_; and they act so queer. Mother played it with us once, whenSusy had the toothache."

  The older girls were hard to be persuaded. They did not like to leavetheir shell-work; but they came at last.

  "Johnny shall be Joggo," said Susy; "that's a boy's name; Prudy will be'Drop of Honey,' and Flossy 'Young Beauty,' and Dotty 'Summer Moon,' andI 'Onno.'"

  "'Young Beauty' 's the prettiest," said Dotty; "if I can't play that,I'd rather stay with my birdie, and not play."

  "Why," cried Susy, "how foo--;" but catching Prudy's eye, she added,"you may as well be Young Beauty; Flossy wouldn't mind. But now I thinkof it, Prudy, we can't play school, for girls don't go to school inIndia."

  "Make believe you are boys, then," observed Johnny, whose interest inthe game had flagged since he knew that Hindoos were not sharks.

  "We'll play it's six o'clock in the morning," continued Susy.

  "That isn't school time," remonstrated Dotty.

  "O, yes, it is, in India. I'm the teacher. Give me a stick, please."

  "Here's my old riding-whip," said Flossy, producing it from thewood-box. Things were tucked away in very queer places at Mrs.Eastman's.

  Susy tied a string about her waist for a girdle, stuck the whip into it,and began to march the floor with great dignity.

  "Now school has begun. You must all come in, and bow 'way down to theground, and say, 'O, respected teacher, grant us knowledge.' They arevery polite in India.--All but Prudy, she may stay behind and playtruant."

  The three pupils came forward, touched their foreheads to the floor, andrepeated the sentence as directed, Johnny rendering it,--

  "O, respectful Susy Parlin, don't you whip me!"--at the same timeturning a somerset.

  "I forgot one thing," said the teacher, as her obedient pupils stoodupright again, with flushed faces. "You ought to have brought me apresent, every one of you, such as a fig of tobacco rolled up in abanana leaf, or--"

  "We didn't know you chewed," said Florence, laughing.

  "Now you take your seats. No, not there! On the floor! What do yousuppose? You're in India, children. There are mats on the floor (we'llpretend)."

  The children seated themselves.

  "O, we ought to say a prayer to the Muse; but I can't remember what itis. No matter. Multiplication Table comes next. Mother says it's justthe same thing in India that it is in America."

  The school repeated part of the table, making very absurd mistakesintentionally. Susy walked the floor like a general. "Angeline, pleaselook up some more palm-leaf fans, and some splinters of wood."

  Angeline was the soul of good nature, and left her baking to hunt in themeal-room for the fans.

  "A pretty kind of school!" growled Johnny. "Don't they do anything outthere in Hindoo but just fan themselves?"

  "O, we pretend these fans are green, just off the trees. We are studyingarithmetic, all so fast, and ciphering on these leaves withreeds--(that's our splinters). Indian boys don't know what slates are.They think these leaves are good enough. They come off of the tallestpalm trees. Fans don't grow in this country. Where did you ever see aleaf as broad as this?"

  "Poh, plenty of 'em in Kennebec County!" said Johnny, confidently.

  "Now," said the teacher, after a few moments of mock arithmetic, "nowI've looked at my watch, and find it's seven o'clock. How _conscionable_late! And that Drop of Honey hasn't come to school yet! Joggo, you andYoung Beauty go and bring her!"

  Prudy, who was sitting at a little distance, under a swing-table, eatingginger snaps, was suddenly seized upon by the two little Indianconstables.

  "Why, what an idea!" said Prudy, with her mouth full; "I didn't knowthat was the way to play it."

  "Yes," said Susy, "truants must come to school. If they don't come theymust be arrested."

  "Why, I've _been a-resting_ all the time," said Prudy, laughing.

  "Well, that doesn't make any difference, Miss Honey Drop," said Johnny,taking her by the shoulders, while Dotty dragged her feet. There wasgreat laughing and scrambling, during which Prudy swallowed a crumb thewrong way, and was finally carried into school on a litter.

  "Now, I should judge," said the heartless teacher, looking sternly atthe crimson-faced victim, "I should judge that this wicked creatureought to have a terrific whipping!"

  "That's so!" shouted Johnny; "we found Honey Drop top of a house, firingmud into a man's eyes."

  "Yes, so we did," said Dotty, fully restored to good humor, "black mud;Honey's a bad Nindian. If you can't whip her hard enough, Joggie willhelp."

  "There, now!" said the teacher, after dealing several "love-pats" withgreat pretended force; "now I should think 'twas time for school to beout. As you go by me, each of you, I must strike you just as many timesas you were minutes late. Now go home, and eat rice for your dinners."

  "Well, I don't think it's much of a play, any way," said Johnny.

  "Who said it was?" retorted Florence. "Susy and I didn't want to comedown; we did it just to please you."

  "Please _me_!" sniffed Johnny. "_I_ wanted to play poison, out in theyard!"

  "I do wis
h," thought Susy, privately, "that cousin Flossy would be morepolite to little Johnny. I really think he wouldn't be so rude if shewould treat him as a lady should."

  "There's another play we used to have," said Prudy, "where you sit roundon the floor, right among the dishes, and eat your supper."

  "Well, I declare for it," said Angeline, "those people off there do needmissionaries more than ever I thought they did."

  "Yes," replied Susy, "they tell such horrid stories to their littlechildren. The children don't dare go out after dark, for they supposethere are demons up in the high trees, just ready to dart down andwhisk them off."

  "Angeline tells just such stories her _own_ self," said Dotty.

  "Then she's a heathen," said Florence, who usually spoke the firstthought that came into her head.

  "If that's the case," retorted Angeline, with dignity, "you'd better allwalk out of this kitchen before you are entirely ruined."

  As Angeline was evidently in earnest, the children slowly took their wayinto the dining-room.

  "Are there real live ghosts, though, Susy?" asked Dotty, anxiously; "andif a bird comes to the window will you die?"

  "Why, no, indeed, child! Mother told me once, when I was right little,that I mustn't let people tell me such foolish stories. If Angelinetalks so to you, you must stop your ears. Now, remember!"

  Dotty remembered; but she was not quite convinced. Those awful storiesmight be true, after all; perhaps Susy didn't know.