Читать книгу Shining Hours - Anonymous - Страница 7

Table of Contents

Dorothy was wandering about the house, wondering what to do. She strayed into Grandma’s room. On the bureau lay Grandmas’s cap. Dorothy tried it on, and thought she looked very like Grandma. There lay a pair of spectacles. She tried those on too.

Suddenly a scheme came into her wise little head. She went to Grandmas’s closet, found one of her dress skirts, and put on that. Grandma was a short woman, and Dorothy was a pretty big girl for her age, still the skirt was a trifle long in front. Grandma didn’t wear short sleeves and high-necked aprons. Grandma’s black shawl was just the thing to cover them up, Dorothy thought, as she fastened it with Grandma’s big pin.

DOROTHY.

She walked quietly into the hall. Quietly, because she wasn’t sure that Grandma would be pleased. She couldn’t see through the spectacles. She clung to the bannisters, or down the whole flight of stairs she would have gone at one step. Shoving the glasses to the end of her nose, she went on her way. Around the corner lived a poor old lady that Grandma sometimes called on. Dorothy walked to her door and knocked. The old lady came to the door.

“Good morning, Mrs. Johns!” said Dorothy.

“Good morning,” answered Mrs. Johns, looking at her caller curiously. “Come in, wont you, and sit down? I don’t just recall you, though you do seem familiar.”

“My name is Swinton,” said Dorothy. (So it was and so was her Grandmother's).

“Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Swinton? You must excuse me for not knowing you. I’m getting hard o’hearing, and my eyes aren’t as good as they were once. And how are you?”

“I have a little rheumatiz, and sometimes a ‘stick’ in my back,” answered Dorothy.

“Your voice doesn’t sound natural, but perhaps it’s my ears. Does your throat trouble you?”

“Oh no!” said Dorothy, growing nervous. “I guess I better be going.”

“Going! Why you’ve just come.”

But Dorothy hurried away, rather quickly for an old lady.

“Well I never!” muttered Mrs. Johns. “She must be going out of her mind, she acted so queer. The rheumatiz must be in her brain. She walked too fast to have it in her legs.”

Grandma was surprised to see Dorothy coming into the house, dressed in her clothes. She couldn’t help smiling while Dorothy told her all about her call.

“And Grandma,” said Dorothy, “she didn’t find out that I was only myself, and not yourself at all!”