Uncle Rutherford's Nieces - A Story for Girls

Joanna H. (Joanna Hooe) Mathews

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• Publié par: sheam
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 67
• Langue: English

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Project Gutenberg's Uncle Rutherford's Nieces, by Joanna H. Mathews This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Uncle Rutherford's Nieces A Story for Girls Author: Joanna H. Mathews Release Date: June 3, 2007 [EBook #21666] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S NIECES *** Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) "SUCH WAS THE PICTURE THAT PRESENTED ITSELF TO MY VIEW."—Page 10. UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S NIECES A STORY FOR GIRLS By JOANNA H. MATHEWS Author of "The Bessie Books," "Uncle Rutherford's Attic," "Breakfast for Two," etc. "For ruling wisely I should have small skill, Were I not lord of simple Dara still." WITH ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS NEW YORK FREDERICK A. STOKES & BROTHER 1888 COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES & BROTHER. DEDICATED TO HERBERT HUNT, WITH LOVING AND BEST WISHES FOR HIS FUTURE YEARS, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, AUGUST 6, 1888. CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER I. AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE CHAPTER II. 7 A CABLEGRAM CHAPTER III. 27 AN ARRIVAL CHAPTER IV. 47 "FOOD FOR THE GODS" 71 CHAPTER V. THE "MORNING BUGLE" CHAPTER VI. 89 UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S PRIZE CHAPTER VII. 107 TWO PEANUT-VENDERS CHAPTER VIII. 129 NOT ON MATTY THE PROGRAMME 151 CHAPTER IX. 173 CHAPTER X. A COLD BATH CHAPTER XI. 195 FIVE DOLLARS CHAPTER XII. 219 CAUGHT IN CHAPTER XIII. THE ACT 241 MATTY IS PROVIDED CHAPTER XIV. FOR 261 J IM'S CONFESSION 285 UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S NIECES CHAPTER I. AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE. A sunny and a dark head, both bent over a much-befigured, muchbesmeared slate, the small brows beneath the curls puckered,—the one in perplexity, the other with sympathy; opposite these two a third head whose carrotty hue betrayed it to be Jim's, although the face appertaining thereto was hidden from my view, as its owner, upon his hands and knees, also peered with interest at the slate. Wanderer, familiarly known as "Wand," —the household dog, and the inseparable companion of my little sisters, —lay at their feet, as they sat upon a low rustic seat, manufactured for their special behoof by the devoted Jim; its chief characteristic being a tendency to upset, unless the occupant or occupants maintained the most exact balance, a seat not to be depended upon by the unwary or uninitiated, under penalty of a disagreeable surprise. To Allie and Daisy, however, it was a work of art, and left nothing to be desired, they having become accustomed to its vagaries. Such was the picture which presented itself to my view as I came out on the piazza of our summer-home by the sea, and from that point of vantage looked down upon the little group on the lawn below. But the problem upon which all three were intent had evidently proved too much for the juvenile arithmeticians; and, as I looked, Allie pushed the slate impatiently from her, saying,— "I can't make it out, Jim: it's too hard. You are too mixed up." "Now, Miss Allie! an' you with lessons every day," said Jim reproachfully. "Should think you might make it out." "I'm not so very grown up, Jim," answered the little girl; "and I've not gone so very far in the 'rithmetic; and I'm sure this kind of a sum must be in the very back part of the book." "Here comes Bill," said Jim, as a boy of his own age and social standing appeared around the corner of the house, a tin pail in one hand, a shrimpnet in the other. "Maybe he'll know. Mr. Edward's taught him lots of figgerin'. Come on, Bill, an' help me an' Miss Allie make out this sum. You ought to Come on, Bill, an' help me an' Miss Allie make out this sum. You ought to know it, bein' a Wall-street man." Allie said nothing; but I saw a slight elevation of her little head and a pursing of her rosy lips, which told me that she did not altogether relish the idea that a servant-boy might possess superior knowledge to herself, although he might be nearly double her age. Allie's sense of class distinctions was strong. Having faith in his own attainments, however, the "Wall-street man"—this was the liberal interpretation put by Jim upon his position as office-boy to brother Edward—deposited his pail and net upon the ground, and himself in a like humble position beside his fellow-servant and chum. He might be learned, but he was not proud by reason thereof. "Now le's see, Miss Allie," he said; "what is it you're tryin' to figger out?" "It's Jim's sum; and I can't see a bit of sense in it, even when it's down on the slate," answered Allie, still in a somewhat aggrieved tone. "He's as mixed up as a—as a—any thing," she concluded hastily, at a loss for a simile of sufficient force. "As a Rhode-Island clam-bake when they puts fish an' clams an' sweetpotatoes an' corn all in to once," said Jim. "At once, not to once; and they put, not they puts," corrected Allie, who, remarkably choice herself in the matter of language, never lost sight of a slip in grammar on the part of our protégés. "Seems funny, Miss Allie, that you, that's so clever in the right ways of talkin', can't do a sum," said Jim. Allie's self-complacency was somewhat restored by the compliment; but she still answered, rather resentfully,— "Well, I can, a decent sum! I had five lines yesterday, and added it all right, too; but a sum like that—I b'lieve even brother Ned couldn't do it!" That which brother Ned could not do was not to be compassed by man, in the opinion of the children. And, as if this settled the matter, Allie rose from her seat, forgetting for the moment the necessity for keeping an exact equilibrium, and that both its occupants must rise simultaneously, unless dire results were to follow to the one left behind. The usual catastrophe took place: the vacant end went up, and Daisy was thrown upon the ground, the seat fortunately being so low that her fall was from no great height; but the rickety contrivance turned over upon the child, and she received quite a severe blow upon her head. This called for soothing and ministration from an older source, and, for the time, put all thought of arithmetical puzzles to flight; but after I had quieted her, and she rested, with little arnica-bound head against my shoulder, Jim returned to the charge. "Miss Amy," he said, a little doubtfully, as not being quite sure of my powers, "bein' almost growed up, you're good at doin' up sums, I s'pose." Now, arithmetic was not altogether my strong point, nevertheless I believed myself quite equal to any problem of that nature which Jim was believed myself quite equal to any problem of that nature which Jim was likely to propound; and I answered vain-gloriously, and with a view to divert the attention of the still-sobbing Daisy from her own woes,— "Of course, Jim. What do you want to know? No," declining the soiled slate which he proffered for my use, "I'll just do it in my head." "You're awful smart then, Miss Amy," said Bill, admiringly. But the question set before me by Jim proved so inextricably involved, so hopelessly "mixed up," as poor little Allie had said, that, even with the aid of the rejected slate, it would, I believe, have lain beyond the powers of the most accomplished arithmetician to solve. No wonder that it had puzzled Allie's infantile brains. To recall and set it down here, at this length of time, would be quite impossible; nor would the reader care to have it inflicted upon him. Days, weeks, and years, peanuts, pence, and dollars, were involved in the statement he made, or attempted to make, for me to work out the solution thereof; but it was hopeless to try to tell what the boy would be at; and, indeed, his own ideas on the subject were more than hazy, and, to his great disappointment, I was obliged to own myself vanquished. "What are you at, Jim?" I asked. "What object have you in all this" —rigmarole, I was about to say, but regard for his feelings changed it into "troublesome sum?" Jim looked sheepish. "Now, Miss Amy," broke in Bill, "he's got peanuts on his mind; how much he could make on settin' up some one in the peanut-business, an' gettin' his own profits off it. But now, Miss, did you ever hear of a peanut-man gettin' to be President of the United States, an' settin' in the White House?" "I believe I never heard of any peanut-man coming to that, Bill," I answered, laughing; "but I have heard of men whose early occupations were quite as lowly, becoming President in their later years." "An' I ain't goin' to be any peanut-man," said Jim. "I'm just goin' to stick to this place, an' Miss Milly an' her folks, till I get eddication enough to be a lawyer. I find it's mostly lawyers or sojers that gets to be Presidents; lawyers like Mr. Edward. Miss Amy," with a sudden air of apprehension, "you don't think Mr. Edward would try to cut me out, do you? He might, you know; an', bein' older an' with more learnin', he would have the start of me." "I do not think that Mr. Edward has any ambition to be President, Jim," I answered, reassuringly. "You need have no fear of him." For to no less a height than this did Jim's ambition soar, and he had full faith that he should in time attain thereto. In his opinion, the day would surely come when,— "The Father of his country's shoes No feet would fit but his'n." And it was with a single eye to this that his rules of life were conformed. The reforms which he intended to institute, mostly in the interest of boys of his own age and social standing, when he should have attained to that his own age and social standing, when he should have attained to that dignity, were marvellous and startling. No autocrat of all the Russias, no sultan, was ever endowed with the irresponsible p