Chapter XII: Brave Preston Gray

"Never saw such folks for jelly; they eat it by the quart. Wish I could be sick once in a while, and get some myself," muttered Preston, as he settled his school-book under his arm, and took the cup his mother had brought to the door.

It was Jimmy Proudfit who was sick now, and Mrs. Gray was in the habit of sending him little dainties by Preston, who often grumbled about it, and said he was "tired of the whole Proudfit family." Mrs. Gray never took any notice of these unfeeling remarks, knowing they meant nothing, for Preston was an extremely kind-hearted boy. He had a few faults, of course, and one of them was a strong dislike for doing errands. He was on his way now to recite a Latin lesson to his kind teacher, Mr. Garland; and, as usual, the twin cousins were close at his heels, skipping and dancing, for they never could walk when they felt truly gay.

"Where are you going?" asked Preston, looking back through his spectacles.

"Going up on the bank to play 'Uncle Tom.' Blanche Jones and Fanny Townsend and everybody else is going, and 'twill be just splendid," replied Flaxie, as Preston walked up to Mrs. Proudfit's door to deliver the jelly.

There were four children playing in the sand this time, and one of them was Patty. The twin cousins thought they would go by them without turning their heads, but Patty called out, "Where are you running to in such a hurry?"

"Oh, we're going up to play on the bank there somewhere," replied Flaxie, trying to shake off the baby, who had been eating candy and was pulling at her frock with his sticky fingers.

"Up on the bank? Well, I'm agoin' too," said that black-eyed, disagreeable Patty.

And without waiting to see whether she was wanted or not, she followed along with her two dirty sisters; and behind them toddled the baby!

Preston marched on in front, looking very much amused; but Flaxie's face was quite red. She pinched Milly's arm, and then Milly pinched hers. It was a strange way to go to a party--_the_ party of the season; and Flaxie had a great mind to run home; only her mother had charged her again and again not to be rude; so she said in a very calm, polite manner:

"Patty, don't you think 'twould be a good plan for you to go in the house and see Jimmy? He's sick."

Patty only laughed, and the four children scuffled along just the same behind Flaxie and Milly, making the dirt fly with their bare toes.

Oh, it was all very well for Preston to whistle! It didn't trouble _him_, of course, for _he_ wasn't going to the party! He stopped in a few minutes at Mr. Garland's beautiful brown house with the green vines around it, and made a low bow as he said "Good-bye."

Flaxie scowled. What would Fanny Townsend and Blanche Jones and all the other nice girls say to see her bringing along such a train of dirty gypsies? She and Milly kept close together, never turning their heads till they came to the place "on the bank up there somewhere," where they were to have the party.

Fanny and Blanche, and nearly everybody else, had arrived already, in clean frocks, with faces just washed; and, dear! dear! who wanted those Proudfits? But the little girls in Laurel Grove were for the most part very well-bred, so they said, "How do you do, Patty?" and "How do you do, Gretty?" and "How do you do, Baby?" just as if they had expected the whole family; though it was really a picnic party, and nobody had a right to come to it without an invitation. Patty kept close beside Flaxie; but Bubby, the fourteen months' old baby, made himself generally disagreeable by wiping the candy and sand off his hands upon the little girls' skirts.

"Let's play something," said Flaxie nervously.

It was a beautiful place to play. There were trees for hide-and-seek, flat spots for croquet, and little hills and hollows for everything else. The village children used this for a sort of park, and the river seemed to look on and laugh to see them so gay. It was a very sober, steady river above and below, but right here it went leaping and tumbling over some rocks, making a merry cascade,--just for fun, you would think. The children liked to skip stones and see them spin up and down in the foam; but they had been warned not to go too near the bank. Nobody had ever fallen in yet, but it wasn't a safe place for very little folks, certainly not for roly-poly babies like Bubby Proudfit. He was very clumsy, falling down, rolling over, and picking himself up again every five minutes. Patty meant to watch him, but he was not very interesting, and the little girls quite bewitched her with their kind smiles and pretty ways.

Flaxie Frizzle was one of the youngest, but led off in most of the games. She was little Eva, and died on a bed of grass "elegantly," while everybody else groaned and howled, especially poor Uncle Tom. Uncle Tom was Milly, in a black mask of Preston's, which had been played with till it was cracked in fifty places, and made Uncle Tom look about two hundred years old.

Then they had the "Old Woman in the Shoe," and Flaxie was a fierce and cruel mother, whipping her children so "soundly" that you could hear them scream half a mile off.

Patty thought all this was beautiful, and a longing look came into her bold black eyes, as she gazed at the old woman.

"Oh, if _I_ could wear red stockings, with flowers on them, like Flaxie! If _I_ could be a doctor's little girl, and live in a house with blinds and trees and flowers, and have a cousin come to see _me_!"

It wasn't strange that Patty should feel like this, and want to cover up her bare feet in the grass; but in admiring Flaxie she forgot entirely to watch Bubby, and that was a great mistake. _He_ didn't care, he never liked to be watched; it was fine fun to see the whole world before him and go just where he chose. Didn't the trees and grass and flowers all belong to him! To be sure they did, and he meant to carry some of them home. But while he was trudging about, and making up his little mind where he would begin to pull, he espied the river sparkling in the sun, and that was finest of all. "Pitty, pitty!" cried he, and thought he would carry the river home too. How nice it would be to splash in! He fairly shouted at the idea, for having never seen a bath-tub, he hadn't learned to be afraid of soap and water. "Pitty, pitty!" said he, toddling down with outstretched hands toward the dashing, dancing, merry, white cascade; while the children, running away from the terrible old woman, and trying to see which could scream loudest, never saw or heard him at all.

Ah, baby, foolish baby, do you think you can seize that bright river and carry it home? No, it is the bright river that is going to seize _you_, unless somebody stops your little feet before they get to the brink!

About this time Preston Gray had finished reciting his lesson. It was not a very good one, though his teacher found no fault whatever; and now instead of going home, Preston strolled along toward the "Children's Park," thinking how strange it was that little girls should scream so much louder than boys at their games.

"Flaxie is a gay one," said he, as he saw her chasing her children with a white birch switch; but at that moment he saw something else that made his heart stand still. The Proudfit baby was scrambling down the bank, just above the falls!

Preston called out, but it was of no use; there was not a man to be seen, and if there had been twenty men they could have heard nothing, while the little girls were making such a noise. He ran with all his might, but by the time he reached the bank, the baby had tumbled headlong into the river!

What was to be done? Preston was only a little boy himself, let me tell you, and though he had learned to swim, the current was strong right here, and there was great danger of his being carried over the falls.

What would _you_ have done, my little reader? Perhaps you would have stopped to think a good many times, saying to yourself:

"Oh, I don't dare, I don't dare!"

And then, ah, _then_, it might have been too late!

Preston was called a slow boy, but he didn't stop to think once; he did his thinking while he was pulling off his shoes.

"I must do it!" that was all he thought. And then he dashed in.

Bubby was in deep water already, and his struggles were carrying him down stream. Preston seized him by his calico frock, and tried to drag him toward the bank; but that dreadful baby had always had a habit of nipping at everything like a snapping-turtle, and now he caught Preston's throat between his thumb and forefinger, half strangling him. And, oh, the current was so swift!

For a moment it was life or death with both of them; but Preston managed to unclasp the tiny hand, hold it down, and land the poor little fellow safe at last.

"God helped me--I knew he would!" thought brave Preston Gray, as he drew his first long breath on the bank.

Of course all the little girls had gathered around him, screaming in chorus, and it was a noisy procession that followed the weeping Patty down the street, with the dripping baby in her arms.

"'Twas my brother that saved him, 'twas my brother Preston!" cried Flaxie to everybody they met. "He jumped into the river and pulled out the baby!"

That wasn't the end of it. There was another procession in the evening, and this one stopped at Dr. Gray's gate. It was the Brass Band, out in uniform; but Preston hadn't the least idea what for, till the men paused at the end of a tune, swung their caps, and gave "Three cheers for Master Preston Gray!"

Even then he didn't understand. He hid behind his father and thought he _should_ like to know what his mother was crying about.

"Hurrah!" said the leader again, Major Patten, swinging his tall fur cap, which was the pride of the whole company; "hurrah for the boy that risked his life to save a drowning baby!"

"Oh, is that it? Anybody'd have done that!" thought little Preston, hiding again. He was a modest boy; but his sister Flaxie, you know, was quite too bold.

"Why don't he come out?" whispered she, pulling at his sleeve.

"Hush, let him alone," said Dr. Gray, with tears in his eyes.

And then he raised the noble boy in his arms, so the men could see him, for that was what they wanted. But still Preston hid his face. His heart was full, and he _couldn't_ look up when those people were praising him so.

By this time there were lamps lighted in every window of Dr. Gray's house, and even in the trees; and though the moon was shining her best, Major Patten, with the wonderful fur cap, asked Preston to stand beside him and hold a lamp, that he might see to read his music.

Preston stood there with the light shining on his pure, good face; and then the men played, "See the Conquering Hero comes," the "Marsellaise," and a dozen other tunes, while their uniforms made such a dazzle of red and gold that Flaxie could not help dancing about like a wild thing for joy.

It was not so with thoughtful Milly. She snuggled down on the piazza beside Julia, and looked on quietly.

"I'm glad Preston was so good," thought she; "perhaps he wouldn't have been so very good if he hadn't had those blind eyes and spectacles. How God must love him! Papa says Julia is like a little candle, and I'm sure Preston is like a candle too. Why, where _is_ Flaxie going now?"

Flaxie was flying down the hill after Henry, the stable-boy. She had heard her papa tell him to go to Mr. Springer's for some ice-cream, and she wanted to say: "Get it pink, Henry; get the pinkest ice-cream you can find!"

Then when the men were seated all about the yard and on the piazza, eating their pink ice-cream, somebody threw up a rocket; and that was the end of the gayest, brightest evening our little friend Flaxie Frizzle had ever known in her life.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

Illustrated, Comprising:--

"The authoress of The Little Prudy Stories would be elected Aunty-laureate if the children had an opportunity, for the wonderful books she writes for their amusement. She is the Dickens of the nursery, and we do not hesitate to say develops the rarest sort of genius in the specialty of depicting smart little children."--Hartford Post.

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON.

COPYRIGHT, 1884, BY LEE AND SHEPARD.

SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

"The children will not be left without healthful entertainment and kindly instruction so long as Sophie May (Miss Rebecca S. Clarke) lives and wields her graceful pen in their behalf, Miss Clarke has made a close and loving study of childhood, and she is almost idolized by the crowd of 'nephews and nieces' who claim her as aunt. Nothing to us can ever be quite so delightfully charming as were the 'Dotty Dimple' and the 'Little Prudy' books to our youthful imagination, but we have no doubt the little folks of to-day will find the story of 'Flaxie Frizzle' and her young friends just as fascinating. There is a sprightliness about all of Miss Clarke's books that attracts the young, and their purity, their absolute cleanliness, renders them invaluable in the eyes of parents and all who are interested in the welfare of children."-- Morning Star.

"Genius comes in with 'Little Prudy.' Compared with her, all other book-children are cold creations of literature; she alone is the real thing. All the quaintness of children, its originality, its tenderness and its teasing, its infinite uncommon drollery, the serious earnestness of its fun, the fun of its seriousness, the naturalness of its plays, and the delicious oddity of its progress, all these united for dear Little Prudy to embody them."--North American Review.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

Illustrated, Comprising:--

LITTLE PRUDY.
LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE.
LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE.
LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE.
LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK.
LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE.

In neat box. Price 75 cents per volume.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

LITTLE PRUDY.

"I have been wanting to say a word about a book for children, perfect of its kind--I mean Little Prudy. It seems to me the greatest book of the season for children. The authoress has a genius for story-telling. Prudy's letter to Mr. 'Gustus Somebody must be genuine; if an invention, it shows a genius akin to that of the great masters. It is a positive kindness to the little ones to remind their parents that there is such a book as Little Prudy."--Springfield Republican.

LITTLE PRUDY'S SISTER SUSIE.

"Every little girl and boy who has made the acquaintance of that funny 'Little Prudy' will be eager to read this book, in which she figures quite as largely as her bigger sister, though the joys and troubles of poor Susie make a very interesting story."--Portland Transcript.

"Certainly one of the most cunning, natural, and witty little books we ever read."--Hartford Press.

LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE.

"These are such as none but Sophie May can write, and we know not where to look for two more choice and beautiful volumes--Susie for girls and Horace for boys. They are not only amusing and wonderfully entertaining, but teach most effective lessons of patience, kindness, and truthfulness. Our readers will find a good deal in them about Prudy, for so many things are always happening to her that the author finds it impossible to keep her out."

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

SPECIMEN OF "LITTLE PRUDY" CUTS.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

LITTLE PRUDY'S STORY BOOK.

"This story book is a great favorite with the little folks, for it contains just such stories as they like to hear their aunt and older sister tell; and learn them by heart and tell them over to one another as they set out the best infant tea-set, or piece a baby-quilt, or dress dolls, or roll marbles. A book to put on the book-shelf in the playroom where Susie and Prudy, Captain Horace, Cousin Grace, and all the rest of the 'Little Prudy' folks are kept."--Vermont Record.

LITTLE PRUDY'S COUSIN GRACE.

"An exquisite picture of little-girl life at school and at home, and gives an entertaining account of a secret society which originated in the fertile brain of Grace, passed some comical resolutions at first, but was finally converted into a Soldier's Aid Society. Full of life, and fire, and good advice; the latter sugar-coated, of course, to suit the taste of little folks."--Press.

LITTLE PRUDY'S DOTTY DIMPLE.

"Dotty Dimple is the plague of Prudy's life, and yet she loves her dearly. Both are rare articles in juvenile literature, as real as Eva and Topsy of 'Uncle Tom' fame. Witty and wise, full of sport and study, sometimes mixing the two in a confusing way, they ran bubbling through many volumes, and make everybody wish they could never grow up or change, they are so bright and cute."

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

"You wide-awake little boys, who make whistles of willow, and go fishing and training,--Horace is very much like you, I suppose. He is by no means perfect, but he is brave and kind, and scorns a lie. I hope you and he will shake hands and be friends."

SPECIMEN OF ILLUSTRATIONS TO PRUDY BOOKS.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

Six Volumes. Illustrated. Comprising:--

DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S.
DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST.
DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME.
DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY.
DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL.
DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.

In a neat box. Price 75 cents per volume.

"'Please stop,' said Dotty faintly, and the boy came to her, elbowing. 'I want some of that pop-corn so much! I could buy it if you'd hold this baby till I put my hand in my pocket.' The youth laughed, but for the sake of 'making a trade' set down his basket and took the 'enfant terrible.' There was an instant attack upon his hair, which was so long and straggling as to prove an easy prey to the enemy."

SPECIMEN OF "DOTTY DIMPLE" ILLUSTRATIONS

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S.

"Sophie May's excellent pen has perhaps never written anything more pleasing to children, especially little girls, than Dotty Dimple. If the little reader who follows Dotty through these dozen chapters,--from her visit to her grandmother to the swing under the trees,--he or she will say: 'It has been a treat to read about Dotty Dimple, she's so cunning.'"--Herald of Gospel Liberty.

DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST.

"Dotty's trip was jolly. In the cars where she saw so many people that she thought there'd be nobody left in any of the houses, she offers to hold somebody's baby, and when it begins to cry she stuffs pop-corn into its mouth, nearly choking it to death. Afterwards, in pulling a man's hair, she is horrified at seeing his wig come off, and gasps out 'O dear, dear, dear, I didn't know your hair was so tender.' Altogether, she is the cunningist chick that ever lived."--Oxford Press.

DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME.

"This little book is as full of spice as any of its predecessors, and well sustains the author's reputation as the very cleverest of all writers of this species of children's books. Were there any doubt on this point, the matter might be easily tested by inquiry in half the households in the city, where the book is being revelled over."--Boston Home Journal.

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SPECIMEN OF "DOTTY DIMPLE" ILLUSTRATIONS.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL.

"Miss Dotty is a peremptory little body, with a great deal of human nature in her, who wins our hearts by her comic speeches and funny ways. She complains of being bewitched by people, and the wind 'blows her out,' and she thinks if her comrade dies in the snow-storm she will be 'dreadfully 'shamed of it,' and has rather a lively time with all her trials in going to school."--New York Citizen.

DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY.

"'Charming Dotty Dimple' as she is so universally styled, has become decidedly a favorite with young and old, who are alike pleased with her funny sayings and doings. Dotty At Play will be found very attractive, and the children, especially the girls, will be delighted with her adventures."--Boston Express.

DOTTY DIMPLE'S FLYAWAY.

"This is the final volume of the Dotty Dimple Series. It relates how little Flyaway provisioned herself with cookies and spectacles and got lost on a little hill while seeking to mount to heaven, and what a precious alarm there was until she was found, and the subsequent joy at her recovery, with lots of quaint speeches and funny incidents."--North American.

"A Little Red Riding-Hoodish story, sprightly and takingly told." --American Farmer.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

Six Volumes. Illustrated. Comprising:--

LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.
PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE.
AUNT MADGE'S STORY.
LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.
LITTLE GRANDFATHER.
MISS THISTLEDOWN.

Price 75 cents per volume.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

LITTLE FOLKS ASTRAY.

"This is a book for the little ones of the nursery or playroom. It introduces all the old favorites of the Prudy and Dotty books with new characters and funny incidents. It is a charming book, wholesome and sweet in every respect, and cannot fail to interest children under twelve years of age."--Christian Register.

PRUDY KEEPING HOUSE.

"How she kept it, why she kept it, and what a good time she had playing cook, and washerwoman, and ironer, is told as only Sophie May can tell stories. All the funny sayings and doings of the queerest and cunningest little woman ever tucked away in the covers of a book will please little folks and grown people alike."--Press.

AUNT MADGE'S STORY.

"Tells of a little mite of a girl, who gets into every conceivable kind of scrape and out again with lightning rapidity, through the whole pretty little book. How she nearly drowns her bosom friend, and afterwards saves her by a very remarkable display of little-girl courage. How she gets left by a train of cars, and loses her kitten and finds it again, and is presented with a baby sister 'come down from heaven,' with lots of smart and funny sayings."--Boston Traveller.

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

SPECIMEN CUT TO "LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES."

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SOPHIE MAY'S "LITTLE-FOLKS" BOOKS

LITTLE GRANDMOTHER.

"Grandmother Parlen when a little girl is the subject. Of course that was ever so long ago, when there were no lucifer matches, and steel and tinder were used to light fires; When soda and saleratus had never been heard of, but people made their pearl ash by soaking burnt crackers in water; when the dressmaker and the tailor and the shoemaker went from house to house twice a year to make the dresses and coats of the family."--Transcript.

LITTLE GRANDFATHER.

"The story of Grandfather Parlen's little boy life, of the days of knee breeches and cocked hats, full of odd incidents, queer and quaint sayings, and the customs of 'ye olden time.' These stories of Sophie May's are so charmingly written that older folks may well amuse themselves by reading them. That same warm sympathy with childhood, the earnest naturalness, the novel charm of the preceding volumes will be found in this."--Christian Messenger.

MISS THISTLEDOWN.

"One of the queerest of the Prudy family. Read the chapter heads and you will see just how much fun there must be in it: 'Fly's Heart,' 'Taking a Nap,' 'Going to the Fair,' 'The Dimple Dot,' 'The Hole in the Home,' 'The Little Bachelor,' 'Fly's Bluebeard,' 'Playing Mamma,' 'Butter Spots,' 'Polly's Secret,' 'The Snow Man,' 'The Owl and the Humming- Bird,' 'Talks of Hunting Deer,' and 'The Parlen Patchwork.'"