"you can borrow a Greek robe from Martha Fowler; she has one, I know, and I'll stop there for it, as I return from the Authors' Tea. Ruth, what have you on hand for this afternoon?"
"I practice until three, Cousin Elizabeth, then 'The Golden Branch' from three till four, and after that my French lesson and the Physical Culture class."
"H'm, well,--somebody ought to entertain Patty. Mother, what are your plans?"
"I have to go out to Cambridge this afternoon to collect for the Dorcas Aid Society. Patty can go with me if she likes, but I'm afraid she wouldn't enjoy it very much."
"No, I'll take Patty with me," said Cousin Elizabeth, very decidedly. "She'll like the Authors' Tea, I know, and if we have time, we'll look in at the Library."
When luncheon was over, they all flew away on their respective errands, and Cousin Elizabeth told Patty to put on her hat and coat, and meet her in the reception-room in ten minutes.
Chapter X.
Patty's Pranks
Somehow the time passed quickly in Boston; in fact, the Fleming family seemed fairly to push it along, they hurried so.
At any rate they wasted none of it, and after a few weeks, Patty fell into the ways of the household, and hurried along with the rest.
Indeed she had to do so, or be left behind, for her cousins were like Time and Tide, and waited for no man, or little girl either.
She went to school with Ruth, but found herself far behind the New England girl in her studies, so she took her place in a lower class, and Ruth kindly helped her with her lessons at home.
Patty did not know what to make of Ruth; she had never seen a girl like her before. Of course Ruth was pleasant and amiable, but she was so very quiet, seldom talked and almost never laughed.
Patty joked with her, and told her funny stories, but at most she received only a faint smile in response, and sometimes a blank stare.
She wrote to her father: "Ruth is the queerest girl I ever saw, and I believe she is all out of proportion. She studies so hard that she has crowded all the fun out of herself. You know 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,' and I verily believe Ruth is the dullest girl in the world."
But Ruth almost always won the prizes offered at school, and was accounted the best of Miss Goodman's pupils.
Patty liked the school, and she liked Miss Goodman, the principal, but the hours, from nine to one, seemed very long to her, and she would often get restless and mischievous.
One day she thought she would clean her ink well. Ruth shared her desk, and as the ink well was intended for the use of both, it was a good-sized one, and chanced to be full of ink.
So Patty must need find something to hold the ink while she washed the inkstand. Not having anything appropriate, she made a cornucopia of a sheet of stiff writing-paper.
She turned up the point securely, poured the ink in, and folded down the top, feeling sure that she could get the ink well ready before the ink soaked through the paper.
Ruth saw this performance and a look of grave disapproval was on her face, but as communication of any kind during school hours was strictly forbidden, she made no sign.
Just as Patty had completed her dangerous little bundle, and held it in her hand, looking at it admiringly, Miss Carter, the teacher, happened to notice her.
Now as the strict discipline of the school prohibited anything which was not directly an aid to education, Miss Carter felt it her duty to confiscate the suspicious-looking package, that might be candy, and that certainly did not pertain to school work.
"Patty Fairfield," said she, in a commanding voice, "you are out of order. You have there something apart from your school duties. Bring it to me at once."
"But, Miss Carter,"--began Patty.
"Silence! not a word! hand me that parcel."
"Oh, Miss Carter, I can't! it's--"
"One word more, and you will be expelled from school. I require implicit obedience. Bring me that parcel."
As there was really nothing else to do, Patty walked up to Miss Carter's desk, gingerly carrying the package of ink.
She knew what would happen if Miss Carter took it, but she had tried to explain, and as she was not allowed to do so, she couldn't help feeling that the result would serve the teacher right for being so unreasonably tyrannical. But she thought she would attempt one more warning, so she said,
"You'll be sorry if you take it, Miss Carter."
Angry at what she considered an impertinent threat, Miss Carter grasped the paper of ink with an indignant clutch, and a black flood streamed over her hand and dress, and spurted out in various directions.
Some drops flew in her face, and on her immaculate white collar, while others decorated her desk and papers with black blots.
The pupils, who had watched the scene with interest, though only Ruth knew what was in the cornucopia, were horror-stricken at the calamity, and sat breathlessly awaiting the explosion of Miss Carter's wrath.
But a drop of ink rolled down that lady's august nose, and involuntarily she put up her hand to brush it away. This produced such an all-over smudge on the ink-spotted face that the girls burst into uncontrollable laughter, and the unfortunate teacher rushed out of the room.
Patty was not expelled from the school, for after hearing Ruth's grave and carefully exact version of the case, Miss Goodman decided that though Patty was blameworthy, yet Miss Carter had been too peremptory in her orders, and so had brought the trouble upon herself.
Patty, who was fun-loving, but not malicious, went to Miss Carter privately, and made her peace with the irate lady, but it was several days before the ink stains entirely disappeared from the teacher's face; and as for the blots on the desk and platform, I shouldn't be surprised if they were there yet.
When Patty told about the ink episode at home, Aunt Hester was exceedingly shocked, but Cousin Tom said, "Patty, you're a genius. What made you think of wrapping up ink in paper?"
"There was nowhere else to put it, Cousin Tom."
"I suppose if you hadn't had any paper you would have dumped it into your pocket, eh?"
"Tom," said his sister Barbara, "how careless you are in your diction. 'Dumped ink!' One can only dump a powdered or granulated substance. By the way I've joined a new club. It's a Society for the Improvement of Advertisers' English, and we work in such a novel and efficacious way. To-day Miss White and I were appointed a committee to go through the shops in a certain district, and call attention to any errors which we noticed on signs or placards. Well, we went into a large dry goods house, and the first thing that caught my eye was a sign 'Dotted Swisses, twenty-five cents.' I sent for the advertising manager and he came. Then I said to him, 'Sir, this is a reliable house, and of course you advertise nothing that you cannot supply. A Swiss is a native of
