Aunt Jo's Scrap Bag. Louisa May Alcott

enthusiastically; while papa and mamma looked rather sober as the plan was developed before them.

      'To-morrow is a holiday for us all, and we might celebrate it by this funny experiment. It will amuse us and do no harm, at any rate,' added aunty, quite in love with her new scheme.

      'Very well, we will. Come, mamma, let us promise, and see what these rogues will do for us. Playing father and mother is no joke, mind you; but you will have an easier time of it than we do, for we shall behave ourselves,' said papa, with a virtuous expression.

      Mamma agreed, and the supper ended merrily, for every one was full of curiosity as to the success of the new play. Harry and Kitty went to bed early, that they might be ready for the exciting labors of the next day. Aunt Betsey paid each a short visit before they slept, and it is supposed that she laid out the order of performances, and told each what to do; for the little people would never have thought of so many sly things if left to themselves.

      At seven the next morning, as mamma was in her dressing-room, just putting on her cool, easy wrapper, in came Kitty with a solemn face, though her eyes danced with fun, as she said—

      'Careless, untidy girl! Put on a clean dress, do up your hair properly, and go and practise half an hour before breakfast.'

      At first mamma looked as if inclined to refuse, but Kitty was firm; and, with a sigh, mamma rustled into a stiff, scratchy, French print, took her hair out of the comfortable net, and braided it carefully up; then, instead of reading in her arm-chair, she was led to the parlor and set to learning a hard piece of music.

      'Can't I have my early cup of tea and my roll?' she asked.

      'Eating between meals is a very bad habit, and I can't allow it,' said Kitty, in the tone her mother often used to her. 'I shall have a mug of new milk and a roll, because grown people need more nourishment than children;' and sitting down, she ate her early lunch with a relish, while poor mamma played away, feeling quite out of tune herself.

      Harry found papa enjoying the last delightful doze that makes bed so fascinating of a morning. As if half afraid to try the experiment, the boy slowly approached and gave the sleeper a sudden, hard shake, saying briskly,—

      'Come, come, come, lazy-bones! Get up, get up!'

      Papa started as if an earthquake had roused him, and stared at Harry, astonished for a minute, then he remembered, and upset Harry's gravity by whining out—

      'Come, you let me alone. It isn't time yet, and I am so tired.'

      Harry took the joke, and assuming the stern air of his father on such occasions, said impressively—

      'You have been called, and now if you are not down in fifteen minutes you won't have any breakfast. Not a morsel, sir, not a morsel;' and, coolly pocketing his father's watch, he retired, to giggle all the way downstairs.

      When the breakfast bell rang, mamma hurried into the dining-room, longing for her tea. But Kitty sat behind the urn, and said gravely,—

      'Go back, and enter the room properly. Will you never learn to behave like a lady?'

      Mamma looked impatient at the delay, and having re-entered in her most elegant manner, sat down, and passed her plate for fresh trout and muffins.

      'No fish or hot bread for you, my dear. Eat your good oatmeal porridge and milk; that is the proper food for children.'

      'Can't I have some tea?' cried mamma, in despair, for without it she felt quite lost.

      'Certainly not. I never was allowed tea when a little girl, and couldn't think of giving it to you,' said Kitty, filling a large cup for herself, and sipping the forbidden draught with a relish.

      Poor mamma quite groaned at this hard fate, but meekly obeyed, and ate the detested porridge, understanding Kitty's dislike to it at last.

      Harry, sitting in his father's chair, read the paper, and ate everything he could lay his hands on, with a funny assumption of his father's morning manner. Aunt Betsey looked on much amused, and now and then nodded to the children as if she thought things were going nicely.

      Breakfast was half over when papa came in, and was about to take Harry's place when his son said, trying vainly to look grave as he showed the watch—

      'What did I tell you, sir? You are late again, sir. No breakfast, sir. I'm sorry, but this habit must be broken up. Not a word; it's your own fault, and you must bear the penalty.'

      'Come, now, that's hard on a fellow! I'm awful hungry. Can't I have just a bite of something?' asked papa, quite taken aback at this stern decree.

      'I said not a morsel, and I shall keep my word. Go to your morning duties and let this be a lesson to you.'

      Papa cast a look at Aunt Betsey, that was both comic and pathetic, and departed without a word; but he felt a sudden sympathy with his son, who had often been sent fasting from the table for some small offence.

      Now it was that he appreciated aunty's kind heart, and felt quite fond of her, for in a few minutes she came to him, as he raked the gravel walk (Harry's duty every day), and slipping a nice, warm, well-buttered muffin into his hand, said, in her motherly way—

      'My dear, do try and please your father. He is right about late rising, but I can't bear to see you starve.'

      'Betsey, you are an angel!' and turning his back to the house, papa bolted the muffin with grateful rapidity, inquiring with a laugh, 'Do you think those rogues will keep it up in this vigorous style all day?'

      'I trust so; it isn't a bit overdone. Hope you like it!' and Aunt Betsey walked away, looking as if she enjoyed it extremely.

      'Now put on your hat and draw baby up and down the avenue for half an hour. Don't go on the grass, or you will wet your feet; and don't play with baby, I want her to go to sleep; and don't talk to papa, or he will neglect his work,' said Kitty, as they rose from table.

      Now, it was a warm morning and baby was heavy and the avenue was dull, and mamma much preferred to stay in the house and sew the trimming on to a new and pretty dress.

      'Must I really? Kitty you are a hard-hearted mamma to make me do it,' and Mrs. Fairbairn hoped her play-parent would relent.

      But she did not, and only answered with a meaning look.

      'I have to do it every day, and you don't let me off.'

      Mamma said no more, but put on her hat and trundled away with fretful baby, thinking to find her fellow-sufferer and have a laugh over the joke. She was disappointed, however, for Harry called papa away to weed the lettuce-bed, and then shut him up in the study to get his lessons, while he mounted the pony and trotted away to town to buy a new fishing-rod and otherwise enjoy himself.

      When mamma came in, hot and tired, she was met by Kitty with a bottle in one hand and a spoon in the other.

      'Here is your iron mixture, dear. Now take it like a good girl.'

      'I won't!' and mamma looked quite stubborn.

      'Then aunty will hold your hands and I shall make you.'

      'But I don't like it; I don't need it,' cried mamma.

      'Neither do I, but you give it to me all the same. I'm sure you need strengthening more than I do, you have so many "trials,"' and Kitty looked very sly as she quoted one of the words often on her mother's lips.

      'You'd better mind, Carrie; it can't hurt you, and you know you promised entire obedience. Set a good example,' said aunty.

      'But I never thought these little chits would do so well. Ugh, how disagreeable it is!' And mamma took her dose with a wry face, feeling that Aunt Betsey was siding with the wrong party.

      'Now sit down and hem these towels till dinner-time. I have so much to do I don't know which way to turn,' continued Kitty, much elated with her success.

      Rest of any sort was welcome,