a new set of schemes. On the trip the day before, she had seen something
which had excited her inventive powers in the highest degree. At the
table at noon a keen observer would have suspected that something was in
the wind, from the unseemly haste with which the little girl devoured
her food. She was too busy with her project to remember her manners!
When they arose from the table, and Mrs. Stanhope, with her
never-forgotten politeness, dismissed them with "many wishes for an
agreeable afternoon," Emma slipped lightly down the stairs, like a
little weasel, and into the kitchen. The fat cook looked up with
surprise from her cup of coffee; she could not get along without her
coffee at noon, whatever happened.
"Well, now, has anything gone wrong with you, miss?" she asked.
"Oh, no," answered Emma; "but I have a little favor to ask of you.
Drink your coffee, first; do."
"I've finished. What do you want?" asked the cook, slowly rising from
her chair.
"My shoes are very dusty; will you please wipe them for me?" asked Emma,
as politely as if she could not speak in any other way.
"It's hardly worth while," answered the woman, but she lifted Emma's
foot upon a cricket, and began to rub it.
"And I want to ask you something more," began Emma. "Where do you get
those beautiful fish that we have on the table so often?"
"They come out of the water near by," answered the cook.
"Yes, of course; but I mean, does a fisherman bring them to you, or do
you go yourself to fetch them?"
"That would be a queer thing, if I had to trot round a couple of hours
before I could have fish for my frying-pan! There! your shoes are all
clean again." And she laid the brush away.
"Does it take a couple of hours to go to the fisherman's?" asked Emma.
"Goodness me! I can't speak always as if I were on oath; if you want to
know how far it is, you'd better go measure it yourself, miss," retorted
the displeased woman.
"That's just what I want to do! Will you please tell me the way?" asked
Emma; and she thanked the cook for brushing her shoes, like a little
lady.
"You go directly down behind the house, as far as the main road; go
along the road a little way, and then turn to the left along a narrow
path, till you come to a clump of willows; there you'll find the
fisherman's house."
With many thanks Emma ran off.
"She is thinking of going a-fishing herself, I'm sure," said the cook,
looking after her.
Emma rushed into the ga
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