"Indeed you won"t, my lady. I hereby issue a mandamus, a fiat, a writ,--and if you don"t know what those things are, I"ll say a plain every-day rule that is not to be broken,--that you are never to play "Snap the Whip" again. This is a rule for Marjorie, and to you, Molly, it"s a piece of advice."
"I"ll take it," said Molly, so meekly that Mr. Maynard smiled, and said:
"Now that incident is closed, and we needn"t mention it again. I don"t believe you"ll even take cold from your sudden plunge, for you both ran home like killdeer. And, by the way, who won the prize?"
"We came in almost exactly together," said Marjorie. "I was a little bit ahead at the door, but Molly was first at the gate, so isn"t that even?"
"It surely is, and so you must both have prizes. I haven"t them with me at the moment, but I"ll engage to supply them before Molly goes home."
Thanksgiving evening was given over to games and quiet frolics.
Mrs. Maynard said the children had had enough excitement for one day, and they must play only sitting-still games, and then go to bed early.
So Mr. Maynard proposed a game in which all could join, and when it was finished it would be bedtime for young people.
He produced a large spool, through which had been run a number of different colored and very narrow ribbons. Mr. Maynard held the spool, with the short ends of the ribbons hanging out toward himself, while the long ends of the ribbons, which reached across the room were apportioned one to each child.
They were allowed to select their own colors, and Marjorie took red, and Molly pink. Kitty had the blue one, and King a yellow one. Mrs. Maynard held a white one, and as Rosamond had gone to bed, no more ribbons were used, though there were others in the spool.
"Now," said Mr. Maynard, "I"ll begin to tell a story, make it up as I go along, you know, and then when I stop I"ll pull one of these ends. I won"t look to see which one I pull, but whoever holds the other end of the same ribbon, must take up the story and go on with it. Do you understand?"
"Yes," said all the children at once; so Mr. Maynard began:
"Once on a time there was a Princess who hadn"t any name. The reason for this sad state of affairs was that no one could think of a name good enough for her. She was so beautiful and so lovely and sweet-tempered that every name seemed commonplace, and the King and Queen who were her parents offered a great reward to any one who would suggest a name that seemed appropriate. But, though they proposed every name that was known, and made up a great many more, none seemed to suit, and so the Princess grew up without any name at all. But one day her grandmother gave her a lovely little writing-desk for a birthday present. The Princess was delighted, and immediately she learned to write letters. But, strange to say, she never received any answers to the letters she sent. Days pa.s.sed, and weeks pa.s.sed, but n.o.body answered the letters. She went to the Court Wise Man, and said to him:
""Prithee, tell me, oh, Seer, why do my friends not answer the letters I have sent them?"
""Oh, Princess!" said the Court Wise Man, "it is because you have no name, and, though they have already written letters to you, they know not how to address them. For how can one address a letter to a nameless person?"
""How, indeed!" cried the Princess. "But I will have a name. I will choose one for myself."
"So she sat down, and thought deeply for a long time, and then she jumped up, saying:
""I have chosen a name! I shall henceforth be called----""
Mr. Maynard made a dramatic pause, and then pulled quickly on one of the ends of ribbon that hung from his side of the spool.
CHAPTER XIX
A SPOOL OF YARNS
Mr. Maynard pulled the ribbon of which Kitty held the other end, and the little girl jumped as she felt the ribbon move in her hand. But Kitty was usually ready for an emergency.
"Violetta Evangeline," she said. "The Princess thought that was the most beautiful name in the world, and I think so, too. Well, then, her father, the King, had the news sent all through the kingdom that his daughter was named at last, and then everybody sent her letters. She had bags and bags full of mail every day, and they had to put on an extra postman. And she had valentines in the mail, and catalogues, and birthday presents, and samples of dresses, and seeds for flowers, and,--and magazines, and,--and,--and one day a little live kitten came to her in the mail, and she was _so_ pleased. So she named the kitten Toodle-Doo, and wherever she went she took the kitten with her. And one day she went off on a long journey, and of course Toodle-Doo went with her. And as they went along,--and went along----"
Just here Mr. Maynard pulled another ribbon, and Molly gave a startled jump.
So Kitty stopped, and Molly took up the story:
"They went along," said she, dropping her voice to a tragic whisper, "on a dark and lonely road. And a great pirate jumped out at them, and cried, "What, ho! The pa.s.sword?" And Violetta Evangeline didn"t know the pa.s.sword, but she guessed at it, and she guessed, "Crackers and Cheese,"
and, as it happened, she guessed just right, and they let her go through."
"Through what?" asked King, greatly interested.
"Oh! I don"t know," returned Molly, carelessly; "through the gate, I s"pose, into the enchanted garden. So she went in, and everything enchanted happened all at once. She was turned into a fairy, and the kitten was turned into a canary bird, and he roosted on the fairy"s shoulder, and then he began to sing. And then the enchantment turned him into a music-box, and so Violetta Evangeline didn"t have any kitten or any bird or anybody to play with. But just then the Fairy Prince came along, and he said he"d play with her. And he said she could play with his toys. So she went to see them, and they were all made of gold and jewels. His tops were of gold, and his kites were of gold all set with rubies and diamonds."
"Huh," said King, "they couldn"t fly!"
"These kites could," said Molly, quite undisturbed, "because they were enchanted kites, and that made the diamonds as light as feathers."
But just then Marjorie"s ribbon twitched. She had been waiting for it, and she picked up the story where Molly left off.
"The kites were so _very_ light," said Midge, "that one of them flew away entirely. And as Violetta Angeline was hanging on to its string, she was carried along with it, and in a jiffy she was over the wall and outside of the enchanted garden, so then she wasn"t enchanted any more, but she was just a Princess again. So she walked forth, and sought adventures. And her first adventure was with a dragon. He was an awful big dragon, and flames of fire came out of his mouth and his ears and his toes. But the Princess wasn"t afraid of him, and as there was a big hydrant near by, she turned it on him and put the flames out. Then he wailed, and wept, and he said: "Oh, Violetta Angelina, I have a woe! Oh, oh, I have a woe!" And as she was a kind Princess, she said, "Tell me what your woe is, and perhaps I can help you." So the Dragon said----"
Here Kingdon"s ribbon pulled, and, though taken somewhat unawares, the boy tried to jump right into the story-telling, and he said:
""Yes, yes, my dear," said the Dragon, "I have a woe, and it"s this: everybody laughs at me because I cannot climb a tree!" "Is that all?"
asked the Princess, in surprise; "why, I will teach you to climb a tree." "Oh, if you only would!" exclaimed the Dragon. So the Princess taught him to climb a tree, and they all lived happy ever after."
King brought his story to an abrupt close, because his mother had begun to look at the clock, and to intimate by sundry nods and gestures that it was bedtime.
"But Mother hasn"t told any of the story yet," said Kitty, who was herself so sleepy she could scarcely listen even to the tale of her own Violetta Evangeline.
"Mother"s story must wait till some other time," said Mrs. Maynard.
"This is the time for everybody of fourteen years or less to skip-hop up to bed."
So away trooped the children, glad to have learned a new game, and carefully putting away for future use the spool with the ribbons through it.
"But the ribbons don"t really make any difference," said Molly, as they went upstairs. "You could just as well _say_ whose turn comes next."
"But it"s so much prettier," argued Marjorie; "and it makes it seem so much more like a game."
"What"s the name of the game?"
"I don"t know; let"s make up one."
"All right; Spool Stories,--no, Spool Yarn."
"A Spool of Yarns!" cried Marjorie, clapping her hands. "That"s the very thing!"
And so "A Spool of Yarns" became one of their favorite games, and was often played in the evenings or on stormy days.
The rest of Molly"s visit pa.s.sed all too quickly, and Marjorie was sad indeed the day her friend returned home.
But Mrs. Maynard bore the blow bravely.