Chapter IV. Ward No. 2.

etohisChristmasball,”proposedaudaciousMollyLoo,alwaysreadyforfun. Sotheyputapreposterousgreenbonnet,top-heavywithplumes,onalittleladyinyellow,whosatinacarriagetheladybesideher,inwintercostumeofvelvetpelisseandermineboa,wasfittedtoabride'sheadwithitsorangeflowersandveil,andtheseworksofartweresentovertoJack,labelled“MissLauraandLottyBurtongoingtotheMinots'Christmasball,”—apieceofnaughtinessonJill'spart,forsheknewJacklikedtheprettysisters,whosegentlemannersmadeherownwildwaysseemallthemoreblamable. Noanswercameforalongtime,andthegirlshadalmostforgottentheirjokeinagameofLetters,when“Tingle,tangle!”wentthebell,andthebasketcameinheavilyladen.Arollofcoloredpaperswastiedoutside,andwithinwasaboxthatrattled,agreenandsilverhorn,arollofnarrowribbons,aspoolofstrongthread,somelargeneedles,andanotefromMrs.Minot:— “DearJill,—IthinkofhavingaChristmastreesothatourinvalidscanenjoyit,andallyourelegantfriendsarecordiallyinvited.Knowingthatyouwouldliketohelp,Isendsomepaperforsugar-plumhornsandsomebeadsfornecklaces.Theywillbrightenthetreeandpleasethegirlsforthemselvesortheirdolls.Jacksendsyouahornforapattern,andwillyoumakealadder-necklacetoshowhimhow?Letmeknowifyouneedanything. “Yoursinhaste, “AnnaMinot” “Sheknewwhatthechildwouldlike,blessherkindheart,”saidMrs.Pecqtoherself,andsomethingbrighterthanthemostsilverybeadshoneonJack'sshirt-sleeve,asshesawtheraptureofJilloverthenewworkandthepromisedpleasure. Joyfulcriesgreetedtheopeningofthebox,forbunchesofsplendidlargebuglesappearedinallcolors,andalivelydiscussionwentonastothebestcontrasts.Jillcouldnotrefusetoletherfriendssharetheprettywork,andsoonthreenecklacesglitteredonthreenecks,aseachadmiredherownchoice. “I'dbewillingtohurtmybackdreadfully,ifIcouldlieanddosuchlovelythingsallday,”saidMerry,asshereluctantlyputdownherneedleatlast,forhomedutieswaitedtobedone,andlookedmorethaneverdistastefulafterthisnewpleasure. “SowouldI!Oh,doyouthinkMrs.Minotwillletyoufillthehornswhentheyaredone?I'dlovetohelpyouthen.Besureyousendforme!”criedMollyLoo,archinghernecklikeaproudpigeontowatchtheglitterofherpurpleandgoldnecklaceonherbrowngown. “I'mafraidyoucouldn'tbetrusted,youlovesweetiesso,andI'msureBoocouldn't.ButI'llseeaboutit,”repliedJill,witharesponsibleair. Thementionoftheboyrecalledhimtotheirminds,andlookingroundtheyfoundhimpeacefullyabsorbedinpolishingupthefloorwithMolly'spocket-handkerchiefandoilfromthelittlemachine-can.Beingtornfromthiscongeniallabor,hewascarriedoffshiningwithgreaseandroaringlustily. ButJilldidnotmindherlonelinessnow,andsanglikeahappycanarywhileshethreadedhersparklingbeads,orhungthegayhornstodry,readyfortheircargoesofsweets.SoMrs.Minot'srecipeforsunshineprovedsuccessful,andmother-witmadethewintrydayabrightandhappyoneforboththelittleprisoners.