LADIES' COLUMN.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 7203, 14 September 1901, Page 3

LADIES' COLUMN.

THE LITTLE GOD AND DICKY. (By JOSEPHINE DODGE DASKAM.) "Where are you going?" said somebody, as hie slunk out toward the (hat-rack. "Oh, out," ke returned 1 , with what, a vaudeville artist would call a good imitation of a, person, wishing to appear blamelessly forgetful of something he remembered quit* distinctly. "Well, see that you dwn-t stay long. Remember what it is ithis afternoon." . H« turned lil»V stag at bay. • "Wihiat is it •tfcds afternoon? ihe demanded viciously. • y . " You know very well." " What?" .■...,. " See that you're here, that's all. You've got <to get dressed." ' " I will not 1 go to that old! dancing-sohool aga-in, and I tell you that I won't, and I won*. And! I won't!" ' ! ' "Now, Dick, don't begin that all over again. It's-so silly of you. You've got to go." . ; "Why?" ■ . " Because it's the thing to do. • "Why?" / . ;■ • -> n " Because you must learn to dance. -, "my?" •. ■■■.■".: "Every nice boy learns it." . "Why?" * That will do, Richard. Go and) find your pumps. Now,: get right up from the floor, and) if you scratch the Morris chair I shall speak /.g.iyour father. .Aren't you ashamed of yourself ? Get right up— you must expect to be, iburt, if yoii pull so. ■ Come, Richard! Now, stop crying— -a greaty boy like you! lam sorry I hurt your elbow, but jwu know very' well you aren't crying for that at all. Come .along!" ■ ,;5i- , „- His aiister flitted' 'By the door in. an engaging ' dfesftiabille, her accordeoa-pleated skat held carefully from *he floor, her hair in 1 two. glisrtendng blue-knotted 1 pigtails. A trail of rose-scented soap floated through the hall. "Hurry up, Dick, or we'll be late," she called back sweetly, secure in the knowledge that if such, virtuous accents maddened jhiim still further, -no one could blame her. His rage justified iher faith. " Oh, you shut up, will you !" he snarled. A desperately patceab anontxlogue from the next room indicated the course of events there. ■;■*■' .". Your necktie is on the bed.. No, I dianjt know where the blue one. is — it , ; doesnft matter; that ia just as good. Yes, 4* is- No, you can not. You will have to wear one. Because <no> one ever goes without. I don't know. why. "Many a boy would be tlhankful and glad to have Balk stockings. Nonsense — your legs are wanm enough. I don't believe you. Now,. Richard, how perfectly ridiculous-!' There is no left and right to stockings. You have no> time to change. Shoes are a different thing. Well, hurry up, then. Because they tare made so, I suppose.. - 1 don't know why. " Brush it more on that aide — no, ' you can*t/go to the barber's.' You went last week.' It looks perfectly well. I cut it? Why I don't know how. to trim hair. . Any : way, there isn't time now. It will: have to do. Stop your scowling, for coodness's sake, Drok. Have you <a handkerchief? It makes no difference, you must carry one. You ought to want to use it. Well, you should. Yes, they always do, whether they have colds or, not. I don't know why. "Your Golden; Text! The idea! No, you cannot.' You^can learn that Sunday before church. This is not the time to learn Golden Texts. I never saw such a: child. N,ow take your pumps and find the plush. . bag. . Why not?- . Put them right ftrit'b Ruth's.. That's what the -bag was made for. Well, how do .you want! to-car«y them? 'Why, I never heard >of anything 50 silly! You .will knot" the string®. I don* care if they do carryk skates that way— skates are not slippers. You'd lose them. Very well, then, only hurry up.. l should *Hnk you'd be ashamed to have them dangling -ground your neck that way. Because people never do carry them so. I don't know T?hy. "Now, here's your coat' Well; I can't help it, you have no*ime to hunt for them. Put your -hands in 'your ..pockets— it's not so far. And mind? you don't run for Ruth every time. You don't take any pains with, her, and you hustle her about, Miss Dorothy " says. Take anotner little gir-1. Yes, you must. I shall speak to your father tf you answer me in that way, Richard. Men don't dance with their sisters. Because they don't. 1 don't knowwhy." . ' He slammed the door till the piazza shook, and strode, along 'beside the scandalised, sister, the pumps flopping noisily on his shoulders. . She tripped along contentedly — she liked to go.' The personality capable , of extracting pleasure from the hour before them baffled his comprehension, and he scowled fiercely at her>, rubbing his silk stockings together ■at every step, to enjoy the strange smooth sensation thus produced. This gave him a bow-legged ; gait that distressed his sister .beyond words. •■■■■ >"♦ I think you might stop. Everybody's looking at you! You're just as bad as "you can be: I shan't speak with you today!" '. ' She pursed up her lips and maintained a determined silence. He rubbed his legs together with renewed emphasis. Acquaintances met them and passed, unconscious of anything but the sweet picture of a sister and a brothep and a plifsn bag going, daintily and dutifully to dancing school. 1 "He jumped, over the threshold of the long room and aimed bis cap at the head of a boy he knew, who was standing on one ibpb to put on a slipper. This destroyed ' his friend's balance, and a cheering scuffle followed. Life assumed a more hopeful aspect. In the other dressing-room his sister had fluttered into a whispering, giggling, many-coloured throng ; buzzing and chuckling ] ■with the rest, she adiusted her slippers, and perked out her bows, her braids quivering with sociability. A shrill wh : .'stle called them -out in two crowding bunches to the polished floor. Hoping against hope, he had clung to the beautiful thought that Miss Dorothy would be sick, that she had missed her j train — but no ! there she was, with her shiny high -heeled slippers, her pink skirt that pulledi out like a fan, and her silver whistle on a chain. The little clicking castanets that rang out so sharply were in her hand beyond a doubt. " Ready, children ! Spread out. Take your lines. First position. Now !" The large man at the piano, who always .looked half asleep, thundered out the first bars of the latest waltz, and the business began. ' Their eyes were', fixed solemnly on Miss Dorothy's pointed A shoes. They slipped and slid and crossed their lees and arched their pudgy insteps ; the boys breathed hard over their gleaming collars. On the right side of the hall", thirty -hands held out their diminutive skirts at an alluring angle. On the left, neat black legs pattered diligently through mystic evolutions. The chords rolled out slower, with dramatic pauses between ; sharp clicks of the castanets rang through the 'hall ; a, line of toes rose gradually towards the horizontal, whirled more or less steadily about, crossed behind, bent low, noweo". and -with a flutter of skirts resumed the first position. A little breeze of laughing admiration circled the row of mothers and aunts. "Isn't, that too cunning! Just like a little ballet ! Aren't they graceM, really now !" ■ " One. two, three ! One, two, three ! Slide, slide, cross : one. two. three !" There are those who find pleasure in the aimless intricacies of the dance ; self-re-specting men even have been known to frequent voluntarily assemblies devoted to this nerve-racking attitudinising futility. | Among such, however, you shall seek in vain in future .years for Richard Can 1 Pendiet on. " One, two, three ! Reverse, two, three !" If you want your heels clipped, step back

"inadvertently into Master Tendlelon's domain.. The Trhis-tle shrilled. "Ready for the two-step, children! A mild tolerance grew on him. If dancing must be, better the two-step than any-: thing else. It is not an alluring dance, your two-step ; it does not require temperament-. Anyone with a firm intention of , keeping the time and a strong arm cam drag a girl through it very acceptably. It was Dicky's custom to hut-l himself at the coloured bunch (nearest him, seize aSabine, bo, to speak, and' plunge into the dance. He had his eye on Louise Hetheriagton., a large, plump girl, with a tremendous braid of W. She was a size too 'big for the class, but everybody liked to da.nee with her, for she knew how, and piloted her diminutive partners with great dull. -But she had been snapped up by the sii-year-old Harold, and was even now guiding nis | infant steps around ,the hall. I Dicky skirted the row of mothers and aunts cautiously. Heaven send Miss Dorothy was not looking at him! She seemed to have eyes in the back of her head, that woman. . .• ", Oh, look ! Did you ever see anything so sweet!" said somebody. Involuntarily he turned. There, in a corner, all by herseif, a little girl was gravely performing a. dance. He stared her curiously. She was ethereally slender, brown-eyed, brownhaired, brown-skinned. ,'A little fluffy white dress spread fan-shaped above her knees; her ankles were bird-like. . "What's your name?" Dicky asked abruptly, after "the dance-. ■ " TTiethelia," she lisped, and shook her hair dyer her cheek. She was very shy. ''Mine's Richard Carr Pendleton. My father's a lawyer. Whait's yours?" '? I— l don't know !" she gasped,.obviously'considering flight. "Pooh!" he said, grandly, "I guess you know. Don't you really?" She looked hopelessly at her fan, and shook her head. Suddenly a light dawned in her big eyes. ' " Maybe I know," she murmured. 1 gueth I know. "He— he'tifr'a really thtate !" "A really state? Tha* isn't anything— nothing at all. A really state?" he frown- j ed at her judiciously. Her lip quivered j she turned and ran, away.. _ ' "Here, come back!" he called, but she was gone. "Rpady for the cotillon, children!" amd Miss Dorothy, her arms full of long, coloured ribbons, was upon him. There was a rumbling chord from the piano, a mad rush for the head of the line. A rosy blonde, with big, china-blue eyes, dragged her protesting 6ajlor-suited partner to the front, and glared triumphantly at the the roly-poly couple behind her. They stared at each other desperaitely—they had had their dreams of precedence — and suddenly, as the robbers stood far apart and swung their arms carelessly high, the roly-poly couple crouched down, slipped between them, and emerged at the head of the procession! The march, began. Dicky, \taked to a tomboy in white duck, who whistled the march, correctly as she swung along, bad fought for a place behind his late partner, and as they clambered into adjacent chairs he nudged her violently, and whispered, " I'm going to choose you !" She smiled shyly. " All right," she said. Miss Dorothy approached with the favours. A violent hissing and snapping of fingers, burst out from the line. They wriggled on their chairs. Miss Dorothy paused, threateningly. "Perhaps we had ibetter mot ha,ve any cotillon," she said 1 , .sternly. "If I hear another hiss " There was a dead si- 1 fenced . ' ' Dicky sat primly, looking at the ceiling. As he had expected, a broad pinky streamer fell in his lap* He leaped to the floor, seized Cecelia by her skirt, hustled the tomboy, as in duty .bound, within the purple leash, and beckoned to the next girl in the row. They arranged themselves three abreast, and he drove them, »to the inspiring two-step, across the room, in line with two other drivers similarly equipped. On the return trip they were confronted by three bands of prancing lititle boys, penl- j ously realistic in their interpretation of the pretty figure, and as- they met in the, middle, wi*b> a scramble of adjustment, the ( steeds paired off- neatly, and the flushed drivers, more or less entangled in their long ribbons,' accomplished an ultimate two-step. • "Now, you choose me*," he commanded, as they scrambled into the chairs; Again she smiled, againi she hid' her cheek with her hair. ; ■ „." All right," she said again. In • yam Louise Hetherington made signs to him; in vain the rosy blonde snapped her fingers — he was Wind and deaf. He slipped into the broad blue ribbon she held out to him at arm's length, and cantered cheerfully before her, her slave for ever. How lightly she floated on behind them! | Not like that tomboy Frances, who clucked at her team as if they were horses, amd nearly Tan Jhent down ; nor like that silly, fat, yellow-curled Gladys, who bubbled With laughter and hung back on the satin reins until her team nearly fell over. Cc- \ celia swam' like thistledown in their wake, and slipped the ribbon over their heads with ail the effect of a scarf dance. "That will do for to-day," said Miss Dbrbfhy, gathering up ihe ribbons, and they surged into the dressing-rooms, to be buttoned up and pulled out of draughts and trundled home. She was swathed carefully i n a wadded silk jacket, and then enveloped in a hooded Mother Hubbard cloak; she looked like an angelic brownie. Dicky ram up to her as a woman led her out to a coupe at ihe j curb, and tugged at the ribbon of her cloak. "Where do you live? Say, where do you live?' he demanded. "I— l don't know," she said, softly. The woman laughed. "Why, yes you dQ, Cissy," she reproved. " Tell him directly, now." She put one tiny finger in her mouth. « J_gueth I live on Chethnut Thtreet," she called as the door slammed and shut her in. . . : j His sister amicably offered him half the plush bag to carry, and opened a running criticism of the afternoon. " Did you ever see- anybody act like that Fanwie Leach? She's awfully rough. Miss Dorothy spoke to her twice— -wasn't that dreadful? What made you dance all the ( time with. Cissy Weston? She's an awful J baby— a regular 'fraid-ca.t ! We girls tease her just as easy— do you like her?" " She's the prettiest one there !" he said. His sister stared at him. "Why, DickPendleton, she is not! She's so. little — she's not half so pretty as Agnes, or— lots of the girls. She's such a baby. She. puts her finger in her mouth, if anybody says anything at all. If you ask her a single thing she does like this : ' I don't know !' " He smiled scornfully. Did he not know how she did it? Had he not seen that adorable finger, those appealing eyes? " And she can't talk plain ! She lisps — truly she does !" . Heavens ! Was ever a girl so thickheaded as that sister of his! "I should like," he said to his mother, the next day, Vto go and see her." " Well, you cram go with me to-morrow, perhaps, when I call on Mrs Weston," she assented. " What? Why. of coursft not ! Men don't go calling in pumps. Your best shoes will do. Are you. crazy? A straw hat in February! You will wear your middy cap. Now, don't argue the. matter, Richard, or you can't go at all." '.Seated opposite her on a hassock, their mothers chatting across the room, his assurance withered away. There was nothing whatever to say, and he said it, adequately perhaps, but with a sen.J>e of deepeniug eniba,rrassment. She took refuge behind hsr hair, and they stared uncomfortably at each other. " And he has never condescended to have anything to do with little girls before, so we are much impressed." Oh. why did not tb« hassock yawn be-

neath him and swallow him up ! To discus* him as if he were a piece of furniture! Day before yesterday ho. had been so easily grand seigneur, so tolerably charmed ; to-day he wished he had not come. "If you come over to my house, I'll show you the biggest rat-hole you ever saw —it's in. the stable!" he said desperately. It was a good 1 deal to do for a girl, but shewas -worth, it. "Oh! Oh!" she said, and, 1 her eyes j widened. " Maybe you can- see the rat — -he doesn't often come out, though," he added honestly. She. shuddered and) twisted her fingers violently. "No! No!" she whispered revoltedly. «I_l hate ratths! I dreamed about one! I had to have the gath lit! Ob, no!" Frightened at this long speech, she looked obstinately in. hw lap, 'though he tried .persistently to catch her eye amidl smile. Their mothers' voices rose and! fell ; they chattered meamimgLessly. Ladies talked and talked : they never did anything to speak of;, tihey only talked. ■■ - • ' She would nob look at him : he grew dtesperate, and played the highest card. If she were of mortal flesh and blood, this would interest her. _ " Look h*Te ! Do you know what Boston bull pups are? Do you?" 1 Sh© niodlded vigorously. % "Well, you know their (tails? She nodded •uncertainly. _ " You know they're just Jaibtle stumps f "Oh, yeth,!" she beamed et him. My Uncle Harry'th got a bulldog. Hith name ith Eli. He liketh m«." . " Well, see here ! . Do you know how they make, their tails short? A mam bites em off ! A fellow told roe " " Oh ! Oh! Oh !" She- shuddered off the hassock, and rushed to her mother, gasping with- horror.- ■ ; •-'<■' ■ ... , "He tfoayth— faethayth " words failed her. Broken sobs of "Eli! Oh, Eli!" filled! the parlour. He was daze-d, terrified;. What had happened?. What had he done? He was shuffled disgracefully from the roonii ; apologies rose above her sobbing ; the door closed behind Dicky and his mother. Waves of rebuke rolled ever his troubled spirit. , "Of all delightful things to say to a poor, nervous little girl! lam too mortified. Richard, how do you learn such dreadful, dreadful things? It's not true. " But, mamma-, it is ! It truly is. When they are little a man bites them off. Petfrr told me so. He puts his mouth right °^UJhard! Not another word! You are disgusting-^ perfectly disgusting. You trouble me very much." . He retired to the clothes-tree an the side yard— there were no junipers there— and cursed his gods. To have made her cry! They thought he didn't care v but oh, he did! . _ x . At night his mother came and sat for a moment on the side of the bed. _ _. " Papa doesn't want you to feel too bad, dear," she said. "He knows that you never meant to frighten Cecelia so. You know that little girls are very different from little boys in some ways. Things that seem — cr — amusing to you, seem very cruel to them. To-morrow, would you like to send her seme flowers and write her a libtle not*, and tell her how sorry you are?" .He could not speak,' but he seized nrs mother's hand and kissed it up to her lace ruffle. In the morning he applied himself to his note of apology; his sister ruled the lines on a beautiful sheet of paper with a curly gold " P " at the tap, and he bent to 'his task with extended tongue and lines between his. eyes. Hitherto his mother fcad been his only correspondent. He carried her the note with a sense of justifiable pride. "It's spelled' all right," he said, " because every word I didn't know I asked Bess, and she told me." •My Dear Cecelia,— l am going to «tnd you some flowrs. I am sorry "they ibita (them of tut they do. I hope you did nothalfto lite <the gas. we are all' well and . haveing. a good time, iriih. much love I am your loving.^aon, KICHAKD CABR PENODI/lviON. " Bets did the periods, but I remembered the large I's myself." he added comfortably.. "Is it all right?" His mother left the room abruptly, arid he, supposing it to be one of her many suddenly-remembered errands, was mercifully unconscious of any connection between (himself and the roars of laughter that came from his father's study. " Just as it is, mind you, Lizzie, just as it is !" his father called after her as she ! came out again ; and though she insisted that ib was too absurd, .and that something was the matter with her children, she was sure, nevertheless she kissed him with noparticular occasion, and held her peace nobly when he selected a hideous purple I blossom with spotty leaves, assisted by ■ the interested florist. His offering was acceptable, and if, on the renewal of an acquaintance destined to grow into a gratifying intimacy, he learned from bitter experience that more than j one subject was tabooed, that more than one sudden emotion must expect no answering sympathy, how was he to evade I the tribulations of his kind? This cup 1 was prepared for them from the beginning. If earthly bliss were flawless, would we concern ourselves at all with heaven? That day that she met him on her walk, and, smiling almost fearlessly, offered him a camel animal cracker ! .True, the most obvious projection was bitten off, and that process is the best part of animal crackers ; bub then, she was only seven! It is not an aga to which one looks for the most brilliant altruism. He gave her in return a long-cherish«d cane-top of poli f toed wood, cut in ihe shape of a greyhound's head, with eyes of orangecoloured glass. She seemed almost to appreciate it. He had been offered a, white mouse for it more than once. , For two long months the Little God led him along the primrose way. The poor fellow thought it was the main road ; he had yet to learn it was but a by-path. But the Little God was not through with him. Her brother, an -uninteresting fellow at first, had improved on acquaintance, and though he scoffed at Dicky's devotion to his sister — thinking her a great baby — he had come to consider him a friend. One day. late, in April, he led Dick out to a deserted corner of the grounds, and for.the sum of a small red top and a blue glasseye, that had been a doll's most winning feature, consented to impart to him a song of such ■■delicious badness that it had to be sung in recret. He had just- learned ithimself, and the knowledge of it admitted one to a sort of club, whose members were bound together by the vicioiifl syllables. Dicky -was pleasantly uncertain of its meaning, but it contained words that custom has banished from the family circle. They crooned it fearfully, with faces averted "from the house, and an exhilarating sense of dissipation. Yellow belly, yellow belly, come an' take a swim! Yes, by golly, when the tide comes in! As he slipped back to the houFe alone, practising it furtively and foretasting the. joys of -imparting it to Peter, the stableman, Cecelia appeared suddenly from behind a, large tree. She was all smiles— she was not afra-id of him any mere. Dancing lightly on one foot, she. waved her bonnet and began to. sing, bubbling with laughter. Horror! What did he hear? Yelly belly. y«lly belly, com in' take a ihwirn! Yitfi, by— "Oh, stop! (Jis.'y'. stop it! You mustn't sing that !" he cried, wildly. .She looked elnsh. " Why not? Dicky thingth it," she said, with a happy smile. She had a heavenly habit., Ipft, from babyhood, of referring to her interlocutor and occasionally to herself in ihe. third person. "But girls mustn't sing it," he warned her, sternly. " Don"t you dare to- — it's a secret."' She danced farther away. ." Dicky thingth it, Thithy thingth it!" she persisted, and as he scowled flip pursed her lips again. Yelly boll-, yelly belly- - ■ "I won't sing it! I won't!" he cried desperately. I won't if you'll keep still! So there ! I tell you I won't !" Sh« stopped; amused at his emotion. All

ignorant of the sacrifice, all careless of his ' heroic defence of her, she only knew that she could tease him in an entirely new way. And the Little God, knowing that Dicky would keep his word, and that Peter -wo\ild never get tne chance for the scandalised admiration once in store for him, strutted proudly away and polished , up his chains. His victim was secure. I Her brother, on learning the facts, sug- , gested slapping her well — good heavens! — j and having nothing more to do with her, for a mean, sneaking tattle-tale. Here was an opportunity to break his bonds. But to those who hays served the Little God it will be no surprise to learn that it was on tl»t very evening that he made his 1 famous proposal to the assembled family, namely, that he and Cecelia should be really engaged, like her Uncle Harry and Miss Merriam, and in a little while marry and set up housekeeping in the guest chamber. "That's what Miss Merriam is going to do.'^he explained, "and Cissy's grandma is sorry, too,; it doesn't leave her any place for company but the hall bedroom. But they've got to nave the room, she s'poses." /'That will do, Richard! You are not to repeat everything you hear. And lam afraid I awed the giiest chamber. What should we do when Aunt Nannie comes?" " Oh, Cissy could have her crib right in the room. She wouldn't mind Aunt Nannie," he replied superbly. "She always sleeps in a crib, and she always will. A bed scares her — she's afraid she'll fall out. I could sleep on the coucH, like Christmas time!" j Bub in the manner of age the _ wide world over, they merely urged him ; to wait. There was plenty of time. Time! and she might be living in the house with them! It was that very night that he reached the fop of the wave, and justified the Little God's selection. He came down to breakfast rapt and quiet. He salted his oatmeal by mistake, and never knew the difference. His sister laughed derisively, and explained his folly to him as he swallowed the last spoonful, but he only smiled kindly at her. Aftei his egg he spoke. "I dreamed that it was dancing-school. And I went. And I was the only fellow there. And what do you think? All the little girls were Cecelia!' 1 They gasped. "You don't suppose he'll be. a poet, do you, Bich? Or a genius, or anything?" his- mother inquired anxiously. " Lord, no !" his father returned. " I should cay he was more likely to be a Mormon !" - Dick knew nothing of either class. Bub the Little God knew very well what hewas, and was at- that moment making out his diploma.