The Big Nightcap Letters

THE SIXTH LETTER.

THE HUNT FOR A STEAMBOAT

Dear little Johnny: – I have heard such a cunning little story about two little children that live in New York, that I have written it out for you; I shall begin it, "Once upon a time" – the way you like best. Here it is:

"Once upon a time little Harry was playing in the parlor, and his kind mother was reading. Presently the door opened, and a lady entered, holding by the hand the dearest little bit of a girl you ever saw, about three years old, with such sweet blue eyes and soft curling hair, that she looked almost like a fairy.

"Harry's mother was very glad to see the lady; she kissed her and little Nannie, and made them sit on the very best sofa, and Harry kissed Nannie, and everybody seemed very much pleased.

"After saying what a very fine day it was, just as all the grown people do when they begin to talk, Nannie's mamma began to tell Harry's mamma something very wonderful, when, all at once, they saw Harry's eyes opened about as big round as a pair of saucers, and a dozen ears seemed to have sprouted out all over his head; and he was listening to the wonderful story with every one of them.

"Harry's mamma thought that would never do, and she said – 'My son, Nannie's mamma and I want to talk secrets, and it is not right for such a little boy as you to hear them; so take the dear little girl out of the room, and show her every thing she wants to see. Mind, dear! show her every thing.'

"So Harry took Nannie's hand, and led her out of the room. He felt quite bashful at first, and when he got into the hall and had shut the door, he dropped her hand; and then the two children stood and looked at each other like two pussy cats on a fence; only they looked a great deal prettier, because, you know, neither of them had any fierce whiskers or long claws. Not they, indeed! I suppose Harry will have whiskers one of these days, if he lives to be a man; but Nannie will never have any, because if she Jives a thousand years she will never be a great, rough man, but a beautiful little woman, which is a great comfort to think of.

"At last Harry said – 'Say, Nannie, what do you want to see?'

"'I want to tee a 'teamboat.'

"'A steamboat!' exclaimed Harry.

"'Ess, a 'teamboat – big one!' said little Nannie.

"Harry looked puzzled; but he took her hand again, and led her very carefully up the long flight of stairs, and into every room on the second floor. They looked under the beds and into the band-boxes, opened all the bureau drawers and wardrobe doors, peered down into the bath-tub, and almost tumbled in, and couldn't find a steamboat. Then they went up stairs again, and all over the rooms in the third story – no steamboat there.

"Then they went up stairs again, and all over the rooms in the top of the house, opened all the cook's bundles, the waiter's boxes, the chambermaid's trunk, and the laundress's umbrella; but not a single steamboat was to be seen.

"What was poor Harry to do?

"He must mind his mamma; and Nannie kept saying – 'I want to tee a 'teamboat.'

"All of a sudden Harry spied a globe of the world in one corner of the attic, and he cried out – 'Here, Nannie, let's look on this world and see if we can find one.'

"So down they nestled close together, and turned the world round and round, but, strange to tell, there was not a single steamboat sailing on it. It was really too bad.

"They came down stairs again, and then a bright thought struck Harry – 'Oh, yes!' he exclaimed, 'I know where a steamboat is. Dear me! certainly! Come, Nannie, hurry.'

"Down they went to the hall, and Harry put on his cap, and opened the front door, and the children went out. Hand in hand they trotted merrily along, both delighted to think that at last they were on the track of a steamboat.

"After walking a long way, they came to a rough board fence, and Harry peeped through a knot-hole to see what was inside. He looked so long, that Nannie cried impatiently – 'Let me see the 'teamboat.'

"'No, it isn't,' said Harry; 'it's some boys playing ball. Come and look.'

"Nannie went close to the fence, and stood on the very tips of her little toes, but the knot-hole was too high; so Harry lifted her with all his strength, and she had a fine time seeing the boys playing ball.

"As he let her come down rather suddenly, she caught her frock in a splinter of wood in the fence, and it was torn from top to bottom. 'Oh, my!' said Nannie, looking at her dress, 'what a gate hole; oh, my!'

"'Oh, never mind it,' cried Harry, 'that's nothing;' and he laughed so merrily, that Nannie thought to tear dresses was great fun, and laughed too.

"On they went, hand in hand, and every fence they came to where there were no houses, they peeped through and searched for the steamboat; and they scrambled and fell against so many rough boards, that Nannie's pretty little new hat that her kind grandmamma had just given her, was all bent and torn and twisted, till from a nice little round hat, it came to be a queer-looking, five-cornered one, with one end of ribbon over her nose, and another sticking out behind; and the beautiful lace cap inside was only fit for the rag-bag. Did you ever hear any thing like it?

"Well, the dear little things wandered on, Harry knowing that he was minding his mamma, like a good boy. He was very happy; because, you know, children that are obedient and good are never any thing else. Of course not.

"And little Nannie's lovely blue eyes were very busy looking all over the world for the steamboat.

"At last they came to an open space – I believe, in Seventy-second street, where the Central Park is; and a very amiable-looking policeman, who fortunately at that time was wide awake, happened to look that way.

"He was very much astonished when he saw such little creatures all alone; and Nannie, looking as if she had been in the wars; but, in spite of her torn dress, looking like just what she was – the tender little pet of a household, watched over, and loved, and cared for night and day; and Harry, too, it was plain to see, with his bright eyes and manly bearing, was of gentle birth and breeding.

"So the policeman walked up to them, and said – 'I suppose this is Tom Thumb and his wife out for a walk.'

"'No, it isn't,' said Harry; 'my name is Harry.'

"'And what is yours, little lady?'

"'My name 'ittle Nannie.'

"'Where did you come from?'

"'Home,' said Harry.

"'Where is home?'

"'Why, in Thirty-second street, to be sure; don't you know?'

"'Did you run away?' said the policeman.

"'No,' said Harry, and his eyes blazed with indignation, 'I'm minding mamma; she told me to show Nannie every thing, and Nannie wanted to see a steamboat, and I'm finding one for her now!'

"At this the policeman laughed, and then he looked so kindly at the children, that I suspect he had a dozen children of his own at his house, and that made him love every other little child. Why, bless your dear little heart, I love all the little children in the whole world, because I love you so dearly.

"Then the policeman said – 'Well, Harry, you are a long way from home; and I think you had better put off the steamboat-hunting business till some other day. Your mother may think you and Nannie are a little too young to travel about the world by yourselves. Come; I will go back with you.'

"It was very fortunate he did, for though Harry knew very well what street he lived in, he did not know how to get to it; and it would have been a sad thing for the dear little creatures if they had been lost. But now the good policeman took Nannie in his arms, because she was getting very tired, and Harry by the hand, and they all got into a railroad car, and before long were at the house.

"But oh! what a distracted house! For when Nannie's mother had finished the wonderful secret, and wanted to leave, the children were not to be found. They searched the house; they examined the bath-tubs and wash-tubs; they went out into the garden and down into the cellar, but they were not to be found; and then the weeping, terrified mothers went out into the street, and asked everybody they met, if they had seen the children.

"The waiter, who was just setting the table for dinner, rushed round the corner, brandishing the carving-knife like a pistol, and frightened a fashionable young gentleman out of all his five wits, for he thought it was a crazy man, trying to kill him; and when he turned round he was scared again, for there was the laundress, who had started out with a wet shirt in her hands, which she was just starching; there she was, waving it about in the wind, like a flag of distress, and crying as hard as she could.

"Then the waiter dropped the carving-knife, and flew up the street, while the fat cook, who had left a pudding half-made in the kitchen, ran after him, dropping her pudding-stick, and wheezing dreadfully; and away in the distance, they saw the chambermaid, with the broomstick in her hand, and her hair all about her ears. She looked so like a witch, from grief and fright, that as she disappeared, the people looking after her were sure she had mounted the broomstick the very next moment, and had flown over the tops of the houses.

"Dear me! what a terrible time it was! But you see they all loved Harry so much, that they were almost crazy, and that made them cut up all these didoes.

"All came back lamenting, for no children had been found; and the distressed mothers were just writing a note to send to the police-office, to order the whole city to be searched, when – a quick ring at the bell – Could it be? Out they all rushed, mothers, cook, waiter, chambermaid, laundress, the cat, and the dog. The door was opened, and, oh, joyful sight! there stood the children and the policeman, all laughing together.

"No wonder they all screamed and cried, and laughed and talked, all in a bunch. Nobody cared a pin for Nannie's torn dress and five-cornered bonnet, when the darling child was safe, and hugged tight to her mother's breast; and Harry and his mother had a grand kissing time too. Why, dear me! they almost wanted to kiss the good policeman, they were so glad; not quite, though; but they gave him what he thought was quite astonishing – something that came out of a purse, and shone like gold; and between you and me, it was gold.

"And Harry's mother was not the least angry with him, when she heard that he was such a good boy, and was only minding his mamma when he went all over the world with Nannie to find a steamboat: no, indeed! She kissed him again. But let me tell you as a great secret, that she was very careful after that to tell Harry to look for steamboats, or any thing else little girls or he might want to see, inside of the house; and although it is many months since this happened, I know that Harry and Nannie have not been steamboat-hunting since; but they are both good, lovely children, and both mind their mammas."

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Johnny, "my story is tip-top! I wish you would read it right over again, mamma."

"Yes, mamma, do!" cried all the rest. "It is so interesting. Dear little Nannie, she's a darling!"

"I wonder if her grandmother gave her a new hat," said Minnie. "I would, if I was her grandmother."

The children laughed at the idea of Minnie's being a grandmother, and Harry said – "Come, sit on my lap, grandmother, and let me see if you know your letters yet." Minnie did not like this much, but as Harry called her his "dear little pet" the next moment, she forgave him immediately.

"But Aunt Fanny has written something else in this letter," said the mother. "Shall I read it, or repeat the story?"

"Oh! read all the letter this time," cried the children, "and the story again to-morrow night."

The little mother read on.

"And now, my dear children, I have sent you six stories; and if any one will count the boots and shoes in the first Nightcap book, they will find that there are the surprising number of thirteen of you! – a baker's dozen.

"Let me see how many are left.

"Minnie and Willie, and Bennie and Lillie, and dear little Fanny, my namesake, and Katie and Pet. I think I will write to this dear little band collectively, and the stories shall make the 'Little Nightcap Letters;' and the little darlings shall have them all to themselves."

"Oh, yes! yes! yes! that will be a grand plan!" cried the children. "Did you ever hear of such a sensible Aunt Fanny? She makes it just as we like it."

"If you like this plan," Aunt Fanny goes on to say, "then the 'Big Nightcap Letters' are finished with this story sent to Johnny; and that you will all grow wiser, and better, and fatter over them, is the loving wish of your

"Aunt Fanny."

And so the Big Nightcap Letters were ended; and the children went off to bed good, thankful, and content, and rose the next day good, thankful, and content.

Pray Heaven, dear little reader, you may always do the same.

1

In Germany, they fill the children's shoes instead of their stockings.