The Little Nightcap Letters

When her papa came home, Bella ran up to him with her letter, exclaiming: "Oh papa, see! see the letter mamma writed to me!"

"Is it possible! Why, what a big woman you are getting to be!" and he took her upon his knee, and read the letter – out loud of course, for Bella could have heard it fifty times with delight.

"Ah! that is a beautiful letter," said her papa; "you must answer it, you know."

"Oh yes, papa; and I want to, 'ight away now."

"Oh! do you? Well, here is a sheet of paper, and pen and ink. Put out your tongue; dear me, how long it is! it looks in very good talking order. Now you talk, and I'll write, and see if we won't have a letter, for which mamma will give two cents, and all her old shoes, to the postman. Come! you must begin first."

Then Bella put her little curly head one side, and stared up at a corner of the ceiling. She was thinking, you see. Presently she put her finger in her mouth, as if to pull the words out – then she looked at her father. Her father smiled, which made her take her finger out of her mouth, and shut her eyes – for she felt funny – and a little bashful. You see this was a very grave business – writing a letter that her mamma would have to pay two cents for – very serious business indeed.

All at once her eyes rested on her dolly, fast asleep in her pretty bed; and then the words came right out – "Oh, dear mamma! I love my little baby, and the heels, and the bedstead, and – and – oh, papa! I love mamma the mostest. I gave my baby a piece of apple pie for her dinner. It was made of paper, just for fun, you know; not really apple pie. She hates pepper, it makes her tongue bite – mine too. She wants you to come home s – o bad – the bedstead wants you to come home, and I want the postman to bring me a letter, and you too – and – and – I don't know any more this day."

"That is a beautiful letter," said her father; "now sign your name just here – and I will seal it up, and direct it on the outside, and send it to the post office."

So Bella made such a funny little scratch with the pen for her name, that it looked as if a fly had turned round and round, with ink on its legs, and then the letter went off on its travels.

The next day her cousin Stanny came to spend the day with Bella. Stanny was a dear little fellow, with light hair, and great blue eyes, and cheeks as fat as butter – they were so fat that the dimples had hard work to make holes in them.

Bella loved Stanny, and she ran to kiss him, and show him her new baby, and the other things; and what do you think Stanny did when he saw the baby in the bed? Why, he tilted up the bedstead, and out fell dolly flat on her nose! That was just like a boy – they will never do to be mothers, like little girls – because they play so roughly.

"Oh Stanny," cried Bella, picking up the dolly tenderly, "she's most killded."

"Why don't she cry then?" said Stanny.

"'Cause she isn't a cry baby," said Bella.

"I mean to punch her and make her cry," said Stanny.

So he doubled up his fist and gave the dolly a great punch in the stomach – but the dear little thing just stared at him without winking, and never said a word. You see the truth was that she had no crying place made inside of her, as some of the babies have – and I for one think it was quite an improvement, for who wants to hear a baby squealing like a pig – you don't, do you? you little kitten!

Bella did not like to have her baby treated in this manner – and it was very fortunate that their grandmamma came in the room just then, with two large slices of bread, with the most delightful currant jelly spread all over them, and gave one to each of the children, or perhaps Bella might have turned into a cry-baby – and that would have made you and me very sorry.

Pretty soon a lady came in – whom the children called Cousin Caroline, and said: "Oh! here is Stanny; why, where did you come from, little boy?"

"I come from Brooklyn. What you got your hat on for, Cousin Caroline? Say."

"Because I am going to see old Mrs. Badger, up the street."

"Are you? Which do you like best, Mrs. Badger, up the street, or grandmamma?"

"Why, Stanny! I like grandmamma a great deal the best."

"But, why for?" said Stanny.

"Why, because she is my aunt," said Cousin Caroline.

"Your aunt!" cried Stanny, in a tone of severe reproof. "Oh, Cousin Caroline, aren't you ashamed to call my grandma an ant! a little ugly black thing, crawling on the ground. She isn't an ant, now! she's a big grandma."

You may be sure that Cousin Caroline and grandma laughed at this long speech – and then Stanny and Bella laughed – and they all thought it was a very funny idea – to make a little black ant out of a big grandma.

The rest of the day Bella played she was the mother and Stanny the grandfather; and except he wanted to whip poor dolly very often, because he said she was naughty, they got along pretty well; and upon the whole they both had a very pleasant day.

FOURTH LETTER

"A letter for Miss Bella Curtis," said the postman; "two cents."

Oh, what delightful words those were. Bella began quite to love the postman; and she asked him if he wouldn't please to take three cents – which astonished him so much, that I do believe nobody had ever thought of saying so to him before.

The little girl pulled off the envelope with trembling eagerness, and Edith read this:

"Dear, Darling Bella:

"I was so delighted with your letter that I kissed every word once, and the dear little scratch, that meant your name, about a dozen times. Yesterday was Sunday, and I went to church. Just in front of me sat a dear little girl so like you, that I wanted to lift her over the back of the pew and kiss her. She was such a little thing, that she did not know how to sit still. She had on a pair of worsted sleeves, and the very first thing she did, was to poke all the fingers of one little hand through the ruffle round the other, just as you do with your sleeves. Then she smiled at me, and I smiled at her; then she spread out her little pocket handkerchief, and found a small hole in the corner, about as big as a three-cent piece. She stuck her finger through that, and held it up, and danced it up and down; then she dusted the pew with it, which made it rather dirty. She was such a little bit of a thing that you could hardly expect her to sit quite still; but this that I am going to tell you now, was really naughty.

"There was a boy in the pew just in front. She gave him three pretty hard taps on the back of his head, and when he looked round, she pretended to be asleep. What a girl!

"When we came out I shook hands with her, and said: 'I have a little girl at home in the North, her name is Bella; what is your name?'

"'My name is Bella, too,' she said. Wasn't that wonderful?

"As I walked home, I saw such a sweet little white girl, carried in the arms of a great black woman, whose head looked like an immense butterfly, fastened on her shoulders; for she had a handkerchief on it, of all the colors of the rainbow, and it was spread out on either side like wings.

"The sweet little child seemed to love her black nurse dearly, for as I walked behind, I saw her press her tender, lovely, pink and white cheek, close against the dusky face of her nurse, and I heard her say in a sweet lisping tone: 'Oh, Binah, I love you. When I go to Heaven, I will take you with me. Oh, B-i-n-a-h!' she said this last word just like the cooing of a little dove.

"'Bress de darlin' chile,' said Binah. 'I am gwine back now, little missis. Ole Binah hab to go to Heben fust, and wait dere for little darlin' missis.'

"You see Binah meant by 'gwine back now,' that she was old. When people are old, they say, they are going 'down hill,' but Binah said, 'going back.' You are climbing up the hill of life, my dear little Bella; and I pray that God will lead you in the right path, and then the hill both up and down will end in a happy home in Heaven.

"Dear me! what a long letter. Give my best love to papa and sister; and kiss yourself on your dear little cheek if you can, for your loving

"Mother."

Here is Bella's answer:

"Darling Mamma,

"I was so glad to get your letter! What a naughty little girl that was in the church! She behaved twice as bad as me. I speak out loud sometimes, not very often; only sometimes. I had a party yesterday – Minnie, and Lilly, and Jeannie; and we had tea out of my cups and saucers that Cousin Caroline gave me – real tea – and one orange that papa brought home – it was all pulled to pieces, and we eat it all up.

"We played with my paper dolls; and one of them, Miss Hattie Smith, knocked down a little table and broke one of my glass candle stickers, that Cousin Caroline gave me.

"Really, and truly, I found it broke; but we made believe that she broke it because she is so ugly.

"Dolly has been very naughty. She fighted with sister's Kitty, and Kitty tore all the lace off her cap. Kitty slapped her first. Then sister Edith told dolly and Kitty about 'dogs delight to bark and bite,' and dolly was so sorry, and Kitty too; and they never mean to do so any more – never – sister Edith mended the cap, and she is good now – next time papa brings me candy, I will give her a big piece – only pretend, you know – for her mouth can't open like mine, it is all shut up tight – what a pity! Oh mamma! I want to see you so much, I don't know what to do. Why can't the postman bring you home? Oh mamma, I can't wait any longer."

Here poor little Bella began to cry; and her papa thought her letter was long enough, and that the little thing was tired, as well as grieved. So he folded up the letter, and took Bella upon his knee, and kissed her, and wiped away her tears, and said: "My darling little pet, would you like to hear a story that I know?"

"Oh yes, papa," said Bella, lifting her head from his breast, and smiling: though a great tear still trembled on her long lashes, "I love a story."

"And I love you," said her papa; "so here it is."

PAPA'S STORYTHE DINNER PARTY

"Once upon a time, there lived a little girl, named Edith. She was a dear good little puss, and that was the reason everybody loved her. Don't you think it was a very good reason?"

"Yes, papa," said Bella; and she squeezed her soft cheek lovingly against him, and he gave her a little hug; and then they went on again quite comfortable with the story.

"Well, one day her papa said to her mamma, 'My dear, I shall not be home to-day to dinner; but what shall I order for yours?'

"'Well, dear,' she answered, 'I think one beef-steak, and some green peas, and potatoes, will do for Edith and me; and the cook shall make a poor man's pudding, with raisins in it; that will be a very nice little dinner.'

"'If I see any thing very nice, I will send that too.'

"'Very well.' Then Edith's papa kissed all the family. It did not take him very long, for he had only Edith and her mamma for a family at that time; and then he went away.

"Pretty soon after, Edith said: 'Mamma, will you please to let me go next door, and play with Annie, and Mary?'

"'Yes, dear,' answered her mother; 'but do not forget to come home at five o'clock to dinner.'

"Edith promised to come, and then skipped joyfully off – with her best doll, Miss Polly Dolly Adeline, and two big apples to play 'party' with, and in a few minutes her mother thought there must be at least twenty children next door, instead of three; for they were having such a good time that they made noise enough to frighten the crows into fits, if any crows happened that way.

"As her mother was sitting at her sewing, some one knocked at the door, and who should come in, but the fat cook, with a great goose, fatter than she was; who cried out: 'Only see what a big goost, mum; and only you and Miss Edith to eat it; besides a beef-steak to brile, and peas and potatoes.'

"'Dear me,' said her mistress, 'we could not eat a quarter of that goose. Save it for to-morrow, Mrs. Jellybag. Only cook the beef-steak and vegetables; and make a poor man's pudding, with raisins, for dessert; that will do nicely.' So the fat cook put the fat goose carefully away in the refrigerator; then she shelled enough peas for a small dish, and peeled about a dozen potatoes, and prepared the raisins for the pudding, and had them all nicely done in time.

"When five o'clock came, the bell rang for dinner, and Edith's mother went down, and took her seat at the table.

"Just then she heard a whole chorus of merry little voices, and to her great surprise, in marched Edith, and seven little girls after her! They were all nearly of the same size, with their hair braided in two tails apiece, as fine as you please.

"'Why, Edith!!' exclaimed her mother.

"'Yes, mamma,' said Edith, 'I told them to come in and get some dinner, and some nice poor man's pudding, with raisins in it; they are Annie's and Mary's cousins. They are real nice, and we are having such fun!'

"You see Edith had no idea that her mother would not like her bringing the little girls in to dine with her; she did not mean to do wrong; and her eyes glittered so brightly with pleasure at having so many friends, that her mamma burst out laughing; and then Edith and all the children giggled in such a funny way, that I do believe if the Mayor of New York could have seen their happy faces, he would have given his best wig, to have such pleasant people at his dinner parties.

"And now the children began to stare at the beef-steak with hungry eyes; and Edith's mother thought it grew smaller and smaller, and was afraid if she gave each one a piece, they would swallow the whole of it at once like a pill. Dear me! how she did wish the goose had been cooked; but there was no help for it now: so seven extra plates were set, like buttons round the table, and seven extra knives and forks were laid across like button holes, and seven extra goblins (as little Edith called the 'goblets') stared down at the plates, and seven extra chairs were rattled up and scratched up to the table, by the children themselves, because the waiting-maid was almost crazy with so much company; and down they sat in a prodigious hurry, and the dinner began.

"Such a famous dinner as it was! Perfectly delicious. If there had only been a little more of it. But never mind, the knives and forks rattled merrily, and the children laughed, and the two long braids of hair on each head flew right and left so fast, that the flies couldn't get near the table to taste of a thing, and were almost distracted when they saw every single crumb eaten up, and the plates nearly scraped into holes.

"Here is the portrait of the cook as she looked when the waiter brought the beef-steak dish.

"But when the poor man's pudding came in, smoking like a Turk, and speckled in every direction with great black raisins, oh! then was the time for bright looks! and when one little girl clapped her hands, and exclaimed, 'My! that looks good!' all the rest laughed, and whisked their heads round so, that it was quite fortunate their braids were fast at one end, or they would have been shaken off up the chimney, and out of the door, and nobody knows where else.

"The best thing was, that there was plenty of pudding, and the children thought it was the very nicest they had ever eaten, particularly as the maid brought to each one the bowl of powdered sugar – so that they might help themselves to as much as they liked —that made a great difference, I can tell you! and they showered down the sugar in grand style – they put it on good and thick, just as much sugar as pudding, and that was what made it so very nice; besides, Edith had whispered to her mamma to give the company 'all the raisinest parts!! because that was the way to be polite to company,' and so her mother did – and they had a grand time picking out the raisins to eat by themselves – and the little spoons went so fast, chopping at the pudding, and clicking on the plates, that Edith's mother said it sounded like little stone-cutters at work – at which they grew perfectly red in their faces laughing at themselves.

"Didn't they have a fine time? I think so – and I laughed very much – oh! – I mean, Edith's papa laughed, when he came home and heard about the grand dinner-party, all out of one small beef-steak, and a poor man's pudding. There! how do you like that story?"

"Oh, papa! I know," exclaimed Bella, laughing, and patting his cheek. "I found you out! it was sister Edith! wasn't it? Dear me! what a funny girl! Did you ever!"

"Yes, it was her, and she was a funny girl – and you are a little darling – and now, kiss papa, and run off to bed."

FIFTH LETTER

"A letter for Miss Bella Curtis; two cents!" bawled the postman.

He was in a hurry this time, and Bella had to run so fast for the money, that it was quite a wonder that she did not get thin after it – only she laughed, too, just as much – and perhaps that may be the reason.

She began to feel as if she was quite a big woman, to be giving the postman so much business to do; and she carried her new letter in great state to her sister, and listened to the reading of it with all her heart and both her ears.

It began thus: —

"Savannah.

"Dear, Darling Bella:

"I was perfectly delighted with your funny little letter, telling me all the news about your party, and dolly, and Kitty.

"I am now in Savannah. It is a most beautiful city, and the people in it are very good and kind. The evening before I left Charleston, a lady came to see me, bringing with her a dear little boy who looked and acted just like Stanny. I told him the story of 'Little Red Ridinghood,' and I thought his eyes would pop out of his head when the wolf eat her up. You see, I growled and snapped my teeth, just like a wolf.

"Then I drew him a picture of the wolf in a bob-tailed coat, talking to Little Red Ridinghood in the wood; and I made him a paper fly-cage, and a paper windmill.

"He looked at them very much pleased, and said: 'But – say – I don't know which to give to my little brother.'

"I laughed, for I saw that he wanted them all himself, and yet loved his little brother so much that he wanted to give them to him, so I said: 'If you will kiss me and call me "Aunt Fanny," I will make some for him, too.'

"Then he put his arms round my neck, and kissed me so hard, that it made his dear little nose quite flat for a moment, and said: 'Thank you, Mrs. Aunt Fanny;' and I made him another picture, and cage, and windmill, and then he was delighted.

"There are two beautiful little children in this house, who are twins, because they came into this world at the very same time. They are each six years old – a boy and a girl.

"I asked Richard where he came from? He said: 'Why, don't you know? Sally and I were dug up from under a cotton tree.' Wasn't that funny?

"Then his mamma said: 'Richard, sing "Morning's ruddy beams, in the Eastern sky,"' and he shouted out —

"'Morning's ready beamsEascum eascum skri,'

then stopped, and giving one eye a queer little twist, said: 'How does that suit you?' In the afternoon the children went to a party, and Richard brought home an orange for his mother, and said: 'I'm going to save this for your Christmas present,' which sounded very funny as Christmas was eight months off.

"The next morning we had flannel cakes for breakfast. Really, and truly, they are made of eggs, milk, and flour; but just for fun I pretended to be astonished, and exclaimed: 'Flannel Cakes! Dear me! who ever heard of such a thing? Why, Richard, what are they made of? Flannel?'

"'Why, no, you goose,' said Richard, 'they are made of flannel flour.'

"I could not help laughing when he called me a goose; but his mother said he was very naughty; and then he ran and hid his head in her dress and began to cry. You see, he was a little bit of a boy – and did not mean to be impolite – and I think myself, I would have been a goose, if I had really and truly believed the cakes were made of flannel; don't you, you little darling?

"I have a very curious snake-skin to show you when I return. Edward, Richard's big brother, found it in the woods, and made it a present to me. A snake! What a present! and to think of a snake wanting to wriggle out of his skin! You wouldn't do such a thing, would you?

"Yesterday a beautiful little mulatto girl came to see me, and brought me, from her mistress, a basket full of splendid flowers. She was about five years old. A great black man with his head covered with white wool came with her to take care of her, because she was so little. He looked as if he had been out in a snowstorm without his hat; but really his head was white because he was so old. His name was Jeringo. 'Well, little one,' said I, 'what is your name?'

"'My name Georgia, and I can tell you a story. It is about Blue Man's Beard.'

"'Oh,' said I, 'I would like to hear that very much indeed.'

"Then she put one little fat hand over the other, drew a long breath, and began: 'Blue Man's Beard, he dreffel cross, I tell you; and he say to he sister, "Now, don't you go in de rooms; you hear?" and she say, "No, neber;" but she tell story, and go; and oh, my! she drop de key, and de key he cum all over wid blood, and she try, try, try, to wipe um off. But he no cum off – and Blue Man's Beard, he say: "If you don't cum down I gib you popping." Den her brother he cum and tote her off to he home, and make a big fire, and burn Blue Man's Beard all up in de fire.'

"'Oh,' said I, 'how glad I am! Aren't you glad?'

"'Ah, no,' she replied, 'I don't want any body to be burn up – make 'em hurt:' which answer made me feel quite ashamed, because I was more cruel than she; then I gave Georgia some money, and sent her home quite happy. What do you think of that story? Don't the little mulatto girl talk queerly? All the black people talk so.

"The other night I felt quite ill, and the dear friend with whom I am staying sent Hannah, a black girl, up to me with a tub of warm water to bathe my feet. She dropped a little bobbing courtesy, and said: 'Please missis, you ain't berry well, I'se want to wash you foot.'

"'Oh dear, no, Hannah, I cannot let you bathe my feet; I always do that for myself.'

"'Oh do, please missis; I ain't got noting to do. I like to wash um.'

"'But, Hannah, I shall feel very funny to have you poking at my toes.'

"'Now missis, do,' said Hannah, in a coaxing tone; 'I'll do um fust rate.'

"Her eyes looked so big, and she made such a queer face at me, that I turned round to laugh; when I looked back she was standing at the long glass making courtesies to herself; then she turned round, and twisted her head till I thought she would crack it off – and stared at her back and made some more courtesies – and I had to laugh out loud, and she looked quite ashamed.

"Then I said: 'Hannah, do you really want to bathe my feet?'

"''Strue as you live, missis.'

"'Would you like me to read to you?'

"'Oh do, missis! tank you.'

"'Well, then, you may, and I will read Little Susy's Six Birthdays to you.'

"That seemed to be a most delightful idea – and she pulled off my boots and stockings in a great hurry, and lifted my feet into the water, and passed her hands so gently over my ankles that it really seemed to do me good; but when she poked between my toes, she tickled me so dreadfully that I squealed, and laughed, and came very near upsetting the tub of water.

"But she liked the book very much, and her great black eyes were full of love and gratitude as she thanked me; and I thanked her, and gave her a penny; but she liked my thanking her better than the penny.

"I have bought you a pretty little green parasol; and I love you, oh! so dearly! you precious little roly-poly tweedle-de diamond-darling! What do you think of that for a love name? you sweet little humpy-dumpy tweedle-dum rosebud robin! there's another; from your loving

"Mother."

How Bella laughed at the love-names, and how happy they made her, is more than I can describe; but she cuddled up to Edith, and whispered:

"Dear little mamma," and that was all she said.

The next day was Sunday. Bella was old enough to go to church, and she behaved very well.

Just before they went in, her father said: "Bella, there will be a collection taken up to-day, and here is a nice new penny for you to put in the plate."