Луиза Мэй Олкотт
Spinning-Wheel Stories
"Look here, I'll tell you what I'll do," he said, as they left the car, and Hugh offered an arm, with a friendly air pleasant to see. "I'll give you the old wheel, and let Joe get another where he can. It's small for him, and I doubt if he wants it, any way. I do think you were a plucky fellow to tramp your twenty miles in good time, and not bear malice either, so let's say 'Done,' and forgive and forget."
"Much obliged, but uncle is going to give me a new one; so Joe needn't be disappointed. I know how hard that is, and am glad to keep him from it, for he's poor and can't afford a new one."
That answer was Hugh's only revenge for his own trials, and Sid felt it, though he merely said, with a hearty slap on the shoulder, —
"Glad to hear it. Uncle is a trump, and so are you. We'll take the last train home, and I'll pay your fare."
"Thank you. Poor old man, you did get a bump, didn't you?" exclaimed Hugh, as they took off their hats in the hall, and the patch appeared in all its gloomy length and breadth.
"Head will be all right in a day or two, but I stove in my helmet, and ground a hole in both knees of my new shorts. Had to borrow a fit-out of Bemis, and leave my rags behind. We needn't mention any more than is necessary to the girls; I hate to be fussed over," answered Sid, trying to speak carelessly.
Hugh had to stop and have another laugh, remembering the taunts his own mishaps had called forth; but he did not retaliate, and Sid never forgot it. Their stay was a short one, and Hugh was the hero of the hour, quite eclipsing his brother, who usually took the first place, but now very meekly played second fiddle, conscious that he was not an imposing figure, in a coat much too big for him, with a patch on his forehead, a purple bruise on one cheek, and a general air of dilapidation very trying to the usually spruce youth.
When they left, Uncle Tim patted Hugh on the head, – a liberty the boy would have resented if the delightful old gentleman had not followed it up by saying, with a reckless generosity worthy of record, —
"Choose your bicycle, my boy, and send the bill to me." Then turning to Sid he added, in a tone that made the pale face redden suddenly, "And do you remember that the tortoise beat the hare in the old fable we all know."
"That is the last of the stories, for our holiday is over, and to-morrow we must go home. We have had a splendid time, and thank you and auntie so much, dear grandma," said Min, expressing the feeling of all the children, as they stood about the fire when the bicycle tale ended.
"I'm so glad, my darlings, and please God we'll all meet here again next year, well and happy and ready for more fun," answered the old lady, with arms and lap full of loving little people.
"Auntie deserves a vote of thanks, and I rise to propose it," said Geoff; and it was passed with great applause.
"Many thanks. If the odds and ends in my portfolio have given you pleasure or done you any good, my fondest wishes are gratified," answered Aunt Elinor, laughing, yet well pleased. "I tucked a moral in, as we hide pills in jelly, and I hope you didn't find them hard to swallow."
"Very easy and nice. I intend to look after little things faithfully, and tell the girls how to make their jerseys fit," said Min.
"I'm going to fill my jewel-box as Daisy did, and learn to cook," added Lotty.
"Eli is the boy for me, and I won't forget to be kind to my small chap," said Walt, stroking his younger brother's head with unusual kindness.
"Well, I'm rather mixed in my heroes, but I'll take the best of Corny, Onawandah, and the banner fellow for my share," cried Geoff.
The little people proclaimed their favorites; but as all spoke together, only a comical mixture of doves, bears, babies, table-cloths and blue hose reached the ear. Then came the good-night kisses, the patter of departing feet, and silence fell upon the room. The little wheel was still, the chairs stood empty, the old portraits looked sadly down, the fire died out, and the Spinning-Wheel Stories were done.
