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CHAPTER FIVE MR. AND MRS. BLUEBERRY

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franklin took kenneth in at the back door, and washed his face, before letting any one see him. then they walked triumphantly into the parlor, with weejums on kenneth’s shoulder.

eunice was practising at the piano, with mrs. wood beside her, so they did not see weejums, until eunice felt a little purring face against her own, and screamed for joy. mrs. wood exclaimed also, and turned very pale, but it was not on account of weejums.

“was it a runaway, franklin?” she asked quietly, “or did he get under a street car?”

just then grandmother came into the room, and franklin led kenneth up to her with pride.

“grandmother, look at your descendant!”[55] he said. “he ain’t but six, and he licked a boy eight.”

“hurrah for you!” said grandmother, which any one will admit was a very strange remark for a grandmother to make.

“what was the fight about?” asked mrs. wood, bringing some pond’s extract from the dining-room. “franklin, you didn’t get him into this?”

“course he didn’t,” said kenneth. “’twas weejums got me in, and patsy mcgann. ouch, mother! don’t pour it in my eye.”

“it was an entirely necessary fight,” franklin explained. “patsy mcgann was throwing things at weejums, and calling her a calico cat.”

“and she’s tortoise-shell,” kenneth said.

“well, they happen to be the same thing,” said mrs. wood, patiently. “mother, do you think it’s so very desirable for a boy to come home looking like this?”

“i’d like to get a glimpse of the other boy,” said grandmother, with a wicked twinkle in her[56] eye. franklin gave a whoop of delight, but grandmother cut short his joy by beckoning him into the other room.

“you said he licked a boy eight?” she asked, taking up her work.

“yes, and, oh, grandmother—”

“nothing strange about that, since he’s a wood. you whipped a boy eight when you were six, didn’t you? seems to me i remember.”

“you bet!” said franklin, with a joyous flush of recollection.

“yes, and so did your father. but now you’re twelve, and i know a boy your own age you can’t whip.”

“well, i’d just like to have you bring him out,” said franklin, doubling up his fists.

“it’s yourself,” said grandmother. “it seems a pity that you’re not strong enough to whip yourself,—when you want to chase cats, and things like that.”

“oh,” said franklin, looking crestfallen.

“now go and get ready for supper,” grandmother[57] said quietly. “i’ve had my say.” franklin edged to the door, and then came back, holding out his hand.

“grandmother,” he burst out, “grandmother, shake! you’re a gentleman!” after which he bolted upstairs.

“where was weejums going when the boys chased her up a tree?” eunice asked at the supper-table.

“don’t know,” said kenneth. “mother, can’t i have three helps of cherries to-night, ’cause i’ve got a sore nose?”

“you may have four more cherries, kenny; but don’t throw the stones at cyclone any more. he may swallow them.”

“s’cuse me,” said franklin, pushing back his chair. “come on, eunice, and we’ll go ask the boys about weejums.” it was a treat for eunice to go out with franklin, after supper, and they were lucky enough to find the boy, boxey, at the end of the block.

“there was two cats,” boxey said, eagerly, “yours, and an old tomcat with a game nose.[58] they was trottin’ along together, an’ when we come up, he went under a porch, and she run up a tree. he kep’ callin’ to her, and spittin’ at us, the whole time.”

“p’r’aps he was bringing her home,” eunice said. “oh, franklin, let’s go find that poor tomcat, and put some vaseline on his nose.”

“it was a lattice-work place, under a porch,” said boxey, starting ahead. “i’ll show you.”

“oh, it isn’t likely he’s there now,” said franklin, taking eunice’s hand; “and if he’s a friend of weejums, he’ll turn up again, sis, so don’t you worry. we’ll go home and put some stuff out in the back yard for him to eat.”

that evening, mrs. wood sat laying some lovely, sunshiny things away in a little box, and thinking of how like the face of a dandelion ken’s dear head used to look.

“mother’s lost her little baby!” she said to herself, as she slipped the last one from her finger, and kissed it softly before closing the box.

[59]

“oh, stuff and nonsense!” said grandmother, who was pretending to read the paper. “you’ve got something better.”

but mrs. wood knew that grandmother had just such another box put away somewhere,—the box that held the curls of him who had been kenneth’s father, and grandmother’s little boy.

“i’m going to give kenny my rabbits,” said franklin, the next morning. “’twas in the advertisement, and i promised.”

“oh, but kenny didn’t see the advertisement,” mrs. wood said; “and weejums is going to buy him such a nice present this morning. i wouldn’t give away the rabbits, franklin dear.”

“well, but i promised, mother.”

“yes, but kenny is such a little boy, he could never begin to take care of all dulcie’s young families. suppose that you give the new little bunnies to the children, if you want to give away something. i don’t believe kenny himself would want you to part with the rabbits that you’ve had so long.”

[60]

“well, i’ll think about it,” franklin replied. and that afternoon it was announced that eunice and kenneth were to have a bunny apiece.

two wild shrieks of delight were followed by a dash to weejums’ box, where the strange-eared visitors lay, cuddled in amongst the kittens.

“i want the one that’s mostly maltese,” said eunice.

“no, i want the one that’s mostly maltese,” said kenneth.

“you never thought of it till i spoke.”

“did so. pig!”

eunice promptly seized him by the hair, and mrs. wood went to the rescue, saying, “sister, for shame! kenny! you mustn’t kick eunice,—and now that you’re in trousers too!”

“i can kick ever so much better,” kenneth said.

“i put them on last night and kicked him,” eunice explained. “i know you can.”

“well, you are both very naughty, and i[61] don’t think any rabbits will be given away to-day. i’ll go explain to franklin,” and mrs. wood started to leave the room.

but both children rushed after her, calling: “oh, mother, i’ll take the other bun! i will, mother!”

“no, mother, i’ll take the other bun. i like him. please, mother!”

“i think that kenneth should have first choice,” mrs. wood said patiently; “because he brought weejums home. so the mostly maltese bun can belong to him. but if i hear another word of quarrelling about it, the rabbits will go back to the farm to-morrow.”

there was a moment of awed silence, and then eunice said, with a sudden radiant smile: “i shall call mine mr. samuel blueberry!”

“mine will be just bunny grey,” kenneth remarked. “blueberries give me the stomach-ache.”

“mother, can’t we have a wedding like cousin florence’s, and let the little bunnies get married? i’ll do it all myself.”

[62]

“don’t you think they’re rather young yet?” asked mrs. wood,—“only six weeks.”

“no, but i heard auntie say it’s better to be married young, because it gets you more used to yourself.”

“how many children would you want to invite?” asked mrs. wood, seriously.

“oh, just mary and wyman, and their animals. and bertha and annabel, and gerald and myrtie foster.”

mary and wyman bates were the children’s cousins who lived uptown. bertha and annabel were kindergarten friends of long standing, and the foster children were school companions, whose father kept a fascinating grocery store. many were the striped jaw-breakers, and flat “lickrish” babies, which myrtie had brought to her friend; while kenneth could not help admiring a boy who had a regular house, built of tin cans, in which he kept potato bugs.

“i suppose you will want them all to stay to supper,” mrs. wood said; “and you know[63] our dining-room is small. suppose that you don’t ask gerald and myrtie.”

“oh, mother!” eunice exclaimed.

and kenneth echoed, “oh, mother!”

“i could ask them just for the ceremony,” eunice said. “lots of people are asked to the ceremony, who don’t come to the reception.”

“you’ll find that they’ll expect to stay, if they come. but of course you can do as you like. perhaps they won’t mind being crowded.”

the invitations were written and sent that night.

“mr. and mrs. overture-to-zampa wood request the honor of your presence, at the marriage of their daughter, miss bunny grey, to mr. samuel blueberry, esquire, on wednesday, september the 8th, at three o’clock in the afternoon.”

and they were directed to miss mary bates and kitten; master wyman bates and rabbits; miss myrtie foster and kitten, etc., and all were accepted with pleasure.

eunice spent delightful hours in getting up the wedding garments,—little white satin blankets cut like dog blankets, except with not so much “yoke,” as rabbits’ heads are screwed so close to their bodies. samuel’s dress-suit was trimmed with pink baby-ribbon, laid on plain, and the bride’s robe with lace; and she wore a white veil, with orange blossoms, which made her look a lighter shade of maltese than she really was.

[65]

the effect was most beautiful until the groom tried to eat some of the orange blossoms, and they had to be pried out of his mouth with a match, and sewed on again. this delayed the final dressing a little; but when the guests arrived, the bride and groom were—contrary to custom—awaiting them on the hall table.

bertha richmond’s cat was named “grandmother,” and wore a nice kerchief and frilled cap, with paper spectacles fastened to the border. her presents were a bunch of young turnips, carefully washed and tied with white ribbon, for the bride, and the same effect in red beets for the groom.

annabel loring’s cat wore a new blanket of pale-blue cashmere, trimmed with swan’s-down, and brought two bouquets of red and white clover, done up in tin foil.

mary and wyman bates had started out with lettuce and carrots for their present, but had been obliged to give most of it to their own rabbits on the way down, to keep them still.[66] they had had an exciting trip on the street car, for mary brought also her two kittens, one attired in a riding habit, and the other in a mother hubbard wrapper and straw hat.

myrtie foster had not been able to bring her cat all the way, but arrived with a torn apron and scratched thumb, which mrs. wood tenderly bound up, to save myrtie the trouble of sucking it.

“it was while we was passin’ the drug-store,” the little girl explained. “malvina heard the soda-water fizzin’ and thought ’twas another cat.”

[67]

but gerald had brought his yellow rabbit, together with the crowning present of all,—a monster cabbage tied with myrtie’s sunday hair ribbon.

weejums was supposed to help dulcie and stamper receive the guests; but, instead of being cordial, she flew at “grandmother,” who was the first to arrive, and clawed the spectacles off her nose, making such rude remarks that eunice was obliged to shut her in the china closet, where she sat and growled through the entire ceremony.

when the wedding procession was ready to start, mrs. wood played the lohengrin march, and the happy couple entered the parlor in their squeaking chariot, which was kenneth’s express cart built up with a starch-box, and covered with white cheese-cloth. a bunch of daisies at each corner completed the solemn effect.

“now put them on the table, franklin,” eunice said; “and remember to bob sam’s head at the right time.”

[68]

“all right,” said franklin.

“e-ow-wow-fftz-fftz!” called weejums from the china closet.

“i’m the minister,” eunice said. “now, franklin, if you laugh you sha’n’t stay.”

“well, i only meant to smile,” franklin explained, “but my face slipped.”

the minister unfolded a much-blotted piece of paper, and began to read in important tones:

“children, cats, etc., we are gathered together to celebrate the wedding of these rabbits, who have got to be married whether they want to or not. samuel, do you promise to always give bun grey the best of the clover, to cherish her from all attacks of rats, and never to bite her tail? (bob his head, franklin. no—no! that’s the wrong one; that’s bun grey’s. now bob sam’s head. that’s it.)”

“bun grey, do you promise to take sam for your maltese husband, to give him the best of the celery, and never to kick him in the stomach? (bob her head, franklin; that’s right!)”

[69]

a solemn pause, and then in a deeper voice, “now let the brass ring pass between you.”

a curtain ring, wound with white ribbon, was pushed up bunny grey’s front leg as far as it would go, and then eunice said, in the deepest voice of all: “i now pronounce you rabbit and wife, and let no dog, mouse, weasel, cat, or guinea-pig ever say it’s not so! now we will have supper.”

and the whole company filed out to the woodshed, where an ample repast was set for rabbit and cat. the menu included oatmeal in an ear-of-corn mould, with clover sauce; catnip fritters, with cream; stewed potatoes; and a wedding cake with “b. g. and s.” in red letters on the frosting.

the animals were held up to the table with napkins around their necks, and ate their share of the feast, while their owners ate the cake. then the bride and groom took a wedding trip around the block, drawn in their white chariot, and, contrary to custom again, escorted by all the guests.

[70]

“now we must sit for our picture,” eunice said, as franklin brought out his camera, and those of the guests who had gone to sleep during the wedding tour were shaken awake again. but it was dreadfully hard to pose them all, so that their clothes and whiskers showed properly, and just at the last minute the picture was spoiled by grandmother richmond, who had a fit, and ran up the screen door. there were a few other legs and tails in the picture when it was developed, but it was mostly grandmother’s cap and fit; and it seemed such a pity, because all the other animals had such pleasant expressions, and looked so charming in the clothes they wore.

everybody stayed to supper, and the sliced peaches gave out; but they ended up with canned ones, and nobody seemed to mind.

“it was the nicest party i was ever to,” myrtie foster told mrs. wood when she went home; “and i shall tell malvina what an awful lot she missed! our mamma[71] doesn’t have time to make parties for us. she has to tend store.”

“it was lovely to have you,” said eunice, warmly; “only i’m sorry weejums was so rude. she mort’fied me very much.”

“don’t you mind the least bit,” said myrtie, consolingly. “i’ve heard that somebody always cries at a wedding!”

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