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Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3395f72 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66888 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66888) diff --git a/old/66888-0.txt b/old/66888-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index a3717f8..0000000 --- a/old/66888-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1316 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Merry Scout, by Edna Payson Brett - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: A Merry Scout - -Author: Edna Payson Brett - -Illustrator: Garada Clark Riley - -Release Date: December 5, 2021 [eBook #66888] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MERRY SCOUT *** - - - - - -A MERRY SCOUT - -[Illustration: _Tilda and baby Maggie in her brand-new coach_] - - - - - A MERRY SCOUT - - - _By_ - - EDNA PAYSON BRETT - - - _Illustrated by_ - - GARADA CLARK RILEY - - [Illustration] - - - RAND M^cNALLY & COMPANY - - CHICAGO NEW YORK - - - - - _Copyright, 1922, by_ - RAND M^cNALLY & COMPANY - - - [Illustration] - - Made in U.S.A. - - - - -THE CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - A MERRY SCOUT 7 - - LENDING THE BABY 28 - - ROBERT’S ADVENTURE 44 - - SANDY’S VALENTINE 55 - - -[Illustration: _Davy was counting the time until he could be a real -scout_] - - - - -A MERRY SCOUT - - - - -A MERRY SCOUT - - -He didn’t belong to any patrol--he wasn’t a real scout at all, but it -wasn’t Davy’s fault. He was only nine and a half, you see, and that -meant two years and six months of waiting--oh, such long waiting it -seemed to Davy--before he could wear the coveted arrow-head badge of -the tenderfoot scout and go hiking and camping like big Cousin Fred. - -That is how the figures stood late in December. It was the summer -before, at Grandfather’s, that Davy had first begun counting the time -until he should be twelve. There, at the farm, he had met Cousin -Fred. Fred was sixteen years old, a first-class scout, patrol leader -in his home town, and a winner of the life-saving merit badge. But he -had never felt too big to take Davy for a Sunday hike over the hills, -relating thrilling tales of scout camp life and wood-craft; telling -all about scout law, with its twelve hard things every scout must be -and the daily good turn every scout must do; explaining the different -badges, the oath, and the salute. What wonder that Davy wanted to be a -scout most of anything in the world! - -Shortly after his return in the autumn Davy determined to take -matters into his own hands. Accordingly, one day, standing before -his looking-glass and raising his right hand, palm to the front, he -solemnly swore to the oath, all by himself; then he pinned under his -jacket, right over his heart, a secret badge of his own designing. -There he had worn it ever since, and considered himself as honor-bound -to the oath as any scout living. - -[Illustration: _Standing before his looking-glass, Davy swore to the -oath, by himself_] - -It was now two days before Christmas. There had been a snowstorm, -clearing about noon. Davy had hailed it with whoops of delight. Now, -by shoveling walks, he might earn money to get a Christmas present for -Mother and Father, after all. It could not be the magnificent azalea -and real leather pocketbook he had first dreamed of--that had been -on the expectation of at least six snowstorms; but there was a gay -little Jerusalem cherry tree for Mother, and for Dad a beauty of a tie, -red and green changeable. Davy had selected them days ago--all he was -waiting for was a job. What luck it should be Saturday and no school! - -[Illustration: _For one reason or another, nobody seemed to need Davy’s -services_] - -When the one o’clock whistle blew, Davy and his snow shovel were well -on their way, bound for an attractive-looking corner house out on the -avenue--corner houses were twice the job of ordinary places. Davy -pressed the bell button confidently. A sour-looking maid opened the -door an inch, snapped out “No,” and banged it to before Davy could -get out a word. He stood staring at the door for a moment, his mouth -still open, but a minute later he was striding across the street to -the opposite corner, once more wearing his sturdy scout smile. There, -however, they kept a hired man; next door, a big boy was already -at work. For one reason or another, nobody seemed to need Davy’s -services, and it began to look as if Daddy and Mother might not get -their Christmas gifts at all; only, Davy was determined. At last a nice -little lady twinkled “yes” over her spectacles. But Davy was only on -his third contract, with a shortage of ten cents staring him in the -face, when the town clock struck four. - -“Well, I declare, you work as if you meant business!” A jolly old -man paused at Davy’s elbow. “Come up to number seventy Lexington -Avenue--electric light in front--and I’ll give you a job. My pay is -thirty cents. If you aren’t there by a quarter of five, I’ll take it -you’ve struck something nearer by and do it myself.” - -“Oh, I’ll be there, all right. Thank you, sir!” Davy’s spirits rose -to the crown of his cap. The necktie and cherry tree were in sight -again--and a box of candy too. - -[Illustration: _Davy nearly ran down a young lady dashing along with -a suitcase and an umbrella, in a frantic effort to overtake a passing -trolley_] - -Fifteen minutes later he was scuttling out to Lexington Avenue. As he -was crossing the street, a block or two from the railroad station, he -nearly ran down a young lady dashing along with a suitcase, a handbag, -and an umbrella, in a frantic effort to overtake a passing trolley. - -“Hey, there, hey!” yelled Davy, but the car whizzed right along. - -“Oh, dear!” panted the young lady, dropping her suit case. “I’ve -lost it, and there won’t be another Fletcher Avenue car for fifteen -minutes.” She looked as if about to drop, herself, and Davy -involuntarily stretched out a small hand to steady her. - -“Thank you,” she gasped. “I do feel a little shaky, running with this -heavy luggage. I believe I’ll go around the corner to the drug store -and get something hot--provided I can secure a trusty young man to -watch my suitcase.” She smiled confidently down into Davy’s honest -face. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, in time to catch the next car.” - -“Oh, you can trust me, _sure_!” Davy smiled back. A scout has to be -helpful and courteous, especially to people in trouble. - -“And you’ll stay right here with it and not let anyone touch it? It -contains all my Christmas presents, you see.” - -Davy promised with his hand over his badge, but of course she couldn’t -see that away under his jacket! - -He watched her anxiously as she crossed the street and turned the -corner. Then he sat down on one end of the bag, his snow shovel at his -feet, and began to consider. - -It was now twenty-two minutes after four by the clock in the little -tailor shop at his left, and he must meet his appointment at a quarter -of five or lose his job. Luckily, he had planned to get there ahead of -time--and she would be back in ten minutes--so he’d keep his date all -right. - -Trinity chimes pealed the half-hour. Eight minutes gone, and she hadn’t -returned. - -Now in the distance appeared a Fletcher Avenue car--_her_ car, that she -would surely be back to take! It approached, passed--and she hadn’t -come. Something must have happened! If he could only go around the -corner and find out--but there was his promise. - -Another five minutes gone--why didn’t she come? He might still make it -if he ran. - -The chimes rang out a quarter of five! It was all up now about the job, -and he was still ten cents short on his Christmas fund, for he could -not take a tip from the lady--a scout may never accept pay for a good -turn. A chill wind was coming up, and it was growing darker and darker -on the lonely corner. Davy stood up and stamped his feet to get out -the numbness. But a scout has to be cheerful, no matter _what_, and he -tried to whistle. - -The town clock struck five. The little tailor came out of his little -shop, rattled his big key in his door, and was gone, leaving Davy -lonesomer than ever. He brushed his eyes with his coat sleeve. A scout -cry? Never! But he was so cold and lonesome and disappointed about the -job! He hadn’t thought that being a scout would be just like this. - -Then suddenly, clearer than the chimes, he seemed to hear Cousin Fred’s -cheerful voice again, reciting their favorite passage from the law: “_A -scout is brave. He has the courage to face danger in spite of fear._” -And Davy knew, for sure, that he wasn’t going to desert his post, no, -not even if it meant an all-night watch! He turned up his coat collar -and with better success started whistling again, keeping time with his -toes as he paced up and down. - -“Hello, pard, waitin’ fer yer airship?” A burly young tough whom Davy -had noticed hanging around the opposite corner swaggered up with a -cigarette in his mouth. “What yer got there? Nuggets or bombs?” giving -the suitcase a kick. “Aw, say,” he added, with a crafty smile, “I’ll -mind it whilst yer beat it to Jakey’s fer a bag o’ peanuts,” and he -held out a nickel. - -[Illustration: _Davy turned up his coat collar and started whistling_] - -“Oh, no, thank you.” Davy sat down on the suitcase in a hurry. “I -couldn’t think of leaving it to anyone, not even somebody I know. I -promised her, you see--the young lady--to keep it till she came back. -It’s got all her Christmas presents in it!” Davy added proudly. - -The ruffian’s eyes narrowed. He cunningly changed his tactics. “Say, -kid, what did she look like--her that belongs to the bag?” - -“All kind o’ brown clothes and pretty and dreadful white in the face. -Maybe you’ve seen her?” wistfully. - -“Well, what do yer know!” Davy felt his arm clutched tight. “Believe -_me_, pard, that young lady’s a pertic’ler friend o’ mine! And if -you’ll jest remove yerself from her trunk there, I’ll be _dee_-lighted -to fetch it to her. Here, I’ll stand fer her tip,” trying to slip a -coin into Davy’s hand. - -“No, sir!” Davy set his jaw fast and plumped down his little body more -protectingly than ever over his charge. - -“Aw, yer won’t, won’t yer? We’ll see,” sneered the ruffian, casting a -furtive glance to right and left. - -In an agony Davy followed his glance, but no help was in sight--save -an approaching trolley, and that probably wouldn’t stop. Oh, if only -some one _would_ come, or if he were only bigger, or had a magic sling -like that David of old! But no, all unarmed he must meet _his_ giant -Goliath. Was ever a true scout up against heavier odds? Then, in his -dire need, he seemed to hear Cousin Fred’s voice again, “_A scout has -the courage ... to stand up for the right ... against the threats of -enemies ... and defeat does not down him_.” - -Davy braced himself for whatever might come--and it came promptly. A -sharp wrench, a vicious punch, and the suitcase was in the hands of -the enemy, and Davy flattened on the ground, well-nigh winded. It was -a black moment for the brave little scout. Everything lost--and what -would _she_ think? And he had tried so hard! - -[Illustration: _“Aw, yer won’t, won’t yer? We’ll see,” sneered the -ruffian_] - -Then--Ah, the trusty snow shovel, Davy’s ally that hadn’t been reckoned -on. _Trip-ity-rip!_ Over it went the enemy with an ugly growl, -sprawling into the gutter! - -And the car _had_ stopped, depositing a broad-shouldered young -man who saw what had occurred and was now making rapid strides -toward Davy. The ruffian, scenting trouble, picked himself up, and -limped a double-quick retreat through the shadow and around the -corner--with_out_ the bag! - -“Well, well, here you are, standing by your guns, just as she said -you’d be!” The young man was addressing Davy, who had managed to get -on his legs once more and regain his charge. “Say, but you’re game -all right!” At the word of appreciation and the comradely slap on his -shoulder, Davy suddenly didn’t mind any more about the long waiting, -losing the job, and having the wind knocked out of him. - -“You’re looking pretty white about the gills, though,” the big young -man’s voice was very kind. “Beastly long ten minutes, wasn’t it? She -didn’t count on fainting, you see, and that sort of thing. She’s my -sister--teaches in the South--was going to spring a surprise on the -family by coming home for the holidays. Here, I’ll take that ark off -your hands and start you homeward. Your folks’ll be getting worried -about you.” - -[Illustration: _Ah, the trusty snow shovel, trip-ity-rip! Over it went -the enemy_] - -Oh, how Davy longed to accept the proffered release! But no, “I--I--I -can’t,” he stammered. “I promised, and a scout has to keep his word.” -Oh, it was hard to say “no” to this friendly young man. It took almost -more courage than fighting the ruffian. - -“Well, that’s a good one on me!” The big young man turned away his face -to save Davy’s feelings. “A _scout_, did I hear you say?” He was quite -serious now. “But you’re some way short of twelve?” - -Then, of course, Davy had to tell about the secret badge, who he was, -where he lived, Cousin Fred, and the encounter with the ruffian. - -“Come, give us your hand, brother scout. You’re the real article, -certificate or no certificate!” Davy’s small, mittened palm was taken -in a mighty grip. “Now stand on the suitcase and look here”--the big -young man opened his greatcoat--“on my sleeve, can you see?” taking out -a pocket flashlight. - -Davy saw. The badge of the scout master--a sure guarantee of all that -was honorable and loyal, trustworthy and brave. It was like the coming -of the Prince in fairy tales. Davy’s eyes glowed. Words failed him, -but off came his right red mitten and three fingers were raised to his -forehead in reverent salute. Then he quietly slipped from the suitcase, -and, the weary watch over at last, joyfully resigned his charge into -lawful hands. - -“I say! you’re a dandy little scout, just the kind I’m looking for. And -if only I were a magician, I’d hustle those next three birthdays of -yours along in no time at all. But here’s your car--you’ll hear from us -later. Good-by!” And with a parting slap for Davy and a nickel to the -conductor, the scout master was gone. - -On Christmas morning there came a package and a letter for Davy, both -in the same unfamiliar hand. The package contained a most wonderful -book, and the letter read: - - - MY DEAR LITTLE MERRY SCOUT: - - Yes, that is what I have named you, for where would there have been - any Merry Christmas for me but for your valiant defense of my - precious bag! I am so sorry for what you had to endure on my behalf, - but I am very happy to add to my acquaintance one more person who - can be trusted, whatever the cost to him. Surely, never was a real, - truly boy scout more faithful to his oath than my little scout of the - secret order. - - I hope you will enjoy the _Animal Book and Camp-Fire Stories_, by - Dan Beard, National Scout Commissioner, which my brother and I are - sending you as a small token of our gratitude. - - We are planning to see you very soon. - - Most cordially your friend, - AGATHA ALDEN. - -“Gee!” gasped Davy, turning rapturously from letter to book and back to -letter again. “But any scout would have had to do it, wouldn’t he, Dad?” - -Father, admiring his new Christmas tie before the sideboard mirror, -smiled down into Davy’s earnest face reflected therein. “I should -certainly say he would, my son,” he agreed, without hesitation. But -the eyes he turned to Mother, across the room, were brimming over with -pride. - -[Illustration: _On Christmas morning there came a package and a letter -for Davy_] - -“_Our_ little Merry Christmas Scout,” softly responded Mother, who was -tending a gay little Jerusalem cherry tree at the window. Sometimes -there are bargains, you know, the last thing before Christmas, and so -Davy’s ten-cent shortage didn’t matter, after all! - - - - -LENDING THE BABY - - -Lakeside Park was fairly a-blossom with children that bright summer -morning, babies _and_ babies--chubby little boys in clean jaunty -blouses, dainty little girls, fresher than the posies as they skipped -about in their spick-and-span frocks--all safeguarded by grown-ups. - -Bumpity-bump! Nurses, big sisters, and children turned out in a hurry -to make room for Tilda, of the tenement, and baby Maggie in her -brand-new coach. Tilda nodded and smiled shyly at the other little boys -and girls as she pushed along the gorgeous gocart, a present that very -morning from dear, freckled, carrot-headed Pete, of the same crowded -tenement. Pete had made it his own self a-purpose for Maggie, out of -a nice soap box and a pair of old wheels taken in trade with the rag -man. And the red paint--the crowning glory of it all--he had earned -doing odd jobs for Michael, the carpenter. - -Wee Maggie, scrubbed to a polish, dimpled and babbled as she rumbled -along. And what mattered to Tilda any longer the hot mile of dusty -city walk--the tiresome journey from the tenement--now at last she -had reached her beloved park? Oh, the cool, woodsy, sweet-smelling -park! Here you could see such lots of the blue sky above the wavy -trees and look as much as you liked at brilliant beds of geraniums and -verbenas--so long as you didn’t pick them. And here, down by the ripply -water, you could watch the whitest swans gliding along so elegantly, -but not too superior to accept the bits of cake tossed from the bank by -their young admirers. - -By and by Tilda turned into a secluded path and came suddenly upon a -lady seated all alone on a rustic bench. She was leaning her head on -one hand and paying not a speck of attention to any of the beautiful -things about her, not even to Mr. Robin, who was calling “cheer up” so -insistently from the tip-toppest twig of the neighboring birch. - -Deary me, what could be the matter? Tilda halted for exactly one -quarter of a minute, then, dropping the cart handle, tiptoed across the -grass, and, gently nudging the lady’s arm, whispered, “Are you sick, -missis?” - -The stranger started and glanced up, very much surprised to find a -small girl in a faded, patched gingham gazing at her with solicitous -gray eyes. - -“Oh, no, child, I’m not ill, thank you! What made you think--but who -is that little one in the wagon?” she asked with a sudden show of -interest, interrupting herself. - -[Illustration: _Deary me, what could be the matter?_] - -“Why, that’s my baby.” Tilda grew tall with pride. - -“_Your_ baby!” The sad lady very nearly smiled. - -“Yes, isn’t she grand?” Tilda shoved the cart close up to the bench. -“She’s Maggie. Open your mouth, Maggie, and show the missis your teeth.” - -“She _is_ a dear baby,” agreed the lady wistfully, patting Maggie’s -little tow head with tender fingers. - -“Maybe you’ve got one at home, too?” ventured Tilda. - -“N-no, not now.” The lady’s voice was, oh, so sorry! A big lump came -right up into Tilda’s throat and tears had started on their way when a -happy idea sent them straight back again. - -In less than two shakes of a lambkin’s tail she had snatched wee Maggie -from the gocart and landed her pat on the strange lady’s lap. - -[Illustration: _The lady snuggled Maggie close and held out one hand to -Tilda_] - -“I’ll lend you my baby, missis,” she offered softly. “You can take her -every day. I’ll fetch her in the gocart and”--Tilda faltered, then -continued bravely--“you can make b’lieve she’s yours and not ours at -all.” - -“Oh, thank you, dear!” Really truly smiles now chased away the lady’s -tears. She snuggled Maggie close and held out one hand to Tilda. - -“Yes, indeed, I should like to borrow wee Maggie often, and you, too, -little mother! You are better than the sunshine. Come sit down here and -tell me all about yourself and baby.” - -The stray passers-by smiled with friendly interest at the odd trio -seated there so cozily on the park bench: cheery little Tilda from the -tenement in her faded blue gingham, punctuating the conversation with -intermittent bobbings of her funny, homemade Dutch cut; the beautiful -young woman known to society as a wealthy banker’s wife--Tilda -immediately had dubbed her “Fairy Godmother”--in an immaculate white -costume; and wee, rosy Maggie in a pink dotted calico cuddled between -them. - -Fairy Godmother listened with a strange, new awakening as Tilda, with -glowing eyes, went on to enumerate all her riches. First, of course, -there was Maggie, the sweetest baby in the world, and dear Mother, -who worked so hard to provide for them since Father’s death. Then -there were her precious day school and Sunday school, the enchanted -park--Tilda loved to pretend it was full of fairies--and there were -Pete and the gocart, and now there was Fairy Godmother herself. - -“Tilda,” a light struggled bravely through the mist in Fairy -Godmother’s eyes, “this is my own baby’s birthday--darling little Anne, -who was lent to us for twelve happy months, then taken back by the -Father of us all. It was to this same park nurse and I used to bring -her, and so I came here today to keep her birthday. But your bright -little selves have shown me a better way. Yes, I’m going to borrow -you both and take you to my home to help me change this day from the -saddest to the gladdest day of all the year.” - -[Illustration: _Shortly they were spinning along in the trolley, the -gocart on the rear platform_] - -Shortly they were spinning along in the trolley, with the precious -gocart on the rear platform. And before Tilda had a chance to really -“come to,” Fairy Godmother was saying, “Here we are.” The car stopped, -the jolly conductor helped them out, gocart and all, and in a moment -more Tilda found herself entering the “stylishest” house she had ever -seen. She followed on tiptoe into the grand hall, up the wide stairs, -and stepped straight into fairyland. It wasn’t any dream kind, either, -that you wake up from right in the most exciting place. Tilda made sure -of that by biting her finger hard--and it _hurt_. - -Fairy Godmother deposited Maggie on the lovely blue center of the -loveliest-of-all rugs--Tilda’s feet were loth to tread on any of -them. Then she touched a funny little button, and, presto! it was -just like Arabian Nights, excepting it wasn’t one of the _genii_ that -appeared--only a pretty, rosy-cheeked woman, in the tiniest white cap -and apron. She stood in the doorway, looking so surprised at the little -strangers that Tilda became suddenly conscious of the patches in her -gingham frock, and the places where there _should_ have been patches in -her shoes. - -“Norah,” reminded Fairy Godmother gently, “this is little Anne’s -birthday, and these dear children have come to spend it with me and -help to make it glad.” - -“Yes, marm,” responded Norah. And Tilda followed her glance to the -life-sized portrait of a wee blue-eyed baby as sweet--yes, as Maggie -herself. Fairy Godmother had a little tête-à-tête with Norah, who soon -left the room, turning as she went to send an assuring smile to the now -welcome visitors. - -Then Tilda and Maggie went to a wonderful concert--all the time staying -just where they were. Ladies and gentlemen they couldn’t see at all -came and sang to them, and whole orchestras and bands, all from the -same mysterious little box, played music that set delicious thrills -shivering down Tilda’s back, and her feet to beating time. Sousa’s band -had just finished “El Capitan” when some sweet little chimes tinkled -out in the hall. - -“Come, Tilda.” Fairy Godmother picked up Maggie and led the way -downstairs, out to the honeysuckle porch overlooking the garden. - -[Illustration: _Tilda and Maggie went to a wonderful concert--all the -time staying just where they were_] - -There, as if the fairies had been at work, stood the dearest little -table that ever was, on land or sea, with rosebuds in the middle and -set for just three, with little rosebud dishes. My! but that was a -party for any royal princess, cocoa with a lovely white foam on top, -tiny three-cornered chicken sandwiches, ice cream and strawberries--two -plates if you wanted them--frosted cake and candy besides, and milk for -Maggie from a real silver cup! The only sorry part of it was baby Anne -could not be there, too, for her own birthday. Probably heaven was just -as nice, though Tilda could scarcely believe it. - -After the “party” Maggie was tucked up cozily on the veranda couch for -a nap, and Tilda was escorted to the garden to meet General Jack, Lady -Gay, Baltimore Belles, American Beauties, and other celebrities, to -say nothing of the pert little Pansy folk, who turned up their saucy -faces at her. And Fairy Godmother said she might pick all the roses -she wanted, her own self. Fancy it--dozens of them--red, white, and -pink, like the grandest lady of the land! And every now and then, as -Tilda stole a shy glance at Fairy Godmother’s glad face, her own beamed -brighter than ever. - -[Illustration: _Fairy Godmother said she might pick all the roses she -wanted_] - -An hour flew by as hours only can in Fairyland gardens. - -“Honk, honk!” Tilda jumped to one side quicker than pop, it sounded -so near, and Fairy Godmother, standing on the porch with wide-awake -Maggie in her arms, laughed outright. - -“It is talking to us, Tilda,” she explained, “and says, ‘Come out -front.’” - -There by the curb stood a splendid great, shiny auto, waiting for Tilda -and Maggie. - -Out from the front seat hopped a nice big man with a nice big smile to -match, to help them all in and get them settled. - -“This is ‘Fairy Godfather,’ Tilda,” introduced Fairy Godmother. “He’s -heard all about you and Maggie over the ’phone.” - -“I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Tilda and Maggie,” he said in a -nice big voice as he held out his hand, and Tilda felt almost too -magnificent to live. - -Norah now came flying out with a mysterious box, which she handed right -over to Tilda. Then Fairy Godfather packed in the gocart and away they -whizzed for the tenement--by way of the shore. - -Two hours later, when tired Mother came home from her long day’s work, -a radiant and breathless Tilda met her at the door and invited her to a -royal spread. - -“Do have some more cake and another cup of tea,” insisted the little -hostess gayly. “And just think, Mother, a trip to the country for -all of us for two whole weeks! Isn’t it grand? And there’ll be cows -and chickens and green grass and flowers, and the rent paid all the -while we’re gone! But most the wonderfulest part of it all”--Tilda’s -eyes grew starry--“was how Fairy Godmother kept getting gladder ’n’ -gladder all the time. And she said ‘thank you’ to me, Mother, and Fairy -Godfather did, too, ’s if _I’d_ done anything, when you know positive -sure I never did one single thing ’cept lending Maggie.” - -“I’m not so sure about that, dear.” And Mother patted the scraggly -Dutch cut tenderly, smiling into Tilda’s questioning eyes. - - - - -ROBERT’S ADVENTURE - - -“Good-by, Robert,” called Mother, as she and Father drove off for the -city one summer afternoon. “Don’t forget to fill the wood box, dear, -and to feed the chickens.” - -“Good-by,” answered the boy from the stone wall, without looking up. - -Robert was discontented. He was tired of filling the wood box and -feeding the chickens every day, and for only five cents a week. Five -cents a week! Yes, that was all he had to spend for candy, marbles, and -everything, while Timmie Marsh, who lived down the road, had a nickel -about every day, and he never had to work at all. - -Robert had been thinking and thinking what could be done about it, and -at last he had made up his mind. He would go to Blakeville that very -afternoon to old Nurse Tucker’s. He could walk four miles easily, and -Nurse would be so glad to see him. - -“Of course,” he said to himself, “I’ll write to Mother, so she’ll know -I’m not drowned or anything. And I’ll tell her how Nurse gives me five -cents for candy every day--’course she will--and how I don’t have to do -any work, either. Then won’t Daddy come for me quick and say if I’ll -only go back with him, I needn’t bring in the wood or feed the chickens -or do anything unless I feel like it, and I can have all the money I -want, besides!” - -And now, as the buckboard vanished in the distance, Robert turned -toward the house to carry out his plan. He could hear Mandy, the hired -girl, singing at her work as he tiptoed cautiously in at the wood-shed -door and up to his room. - -After giving his hair one hasty stroke with the brush and putting on -his Sunday shoes and stockings, he considered his toilet completed and -was soon stealing out of the wood shed again, unobserved by Mandy. - -A moment later Robert was skulking through the barnyard, making a -bee line for the blueberry lot and the turnpike. But what made the -chickens act so queerly? Mrs. Bantam, with her head cocked on one -side, eyed him suspiciously as he crept along, while the great white -rooster flew upon the coop and screamed right out, so loud that Robert -feared the whole village would hear. “_What-you-going-to-do-oo? -What-you-going-to-do-oo?_” Robert did not think best to answer, but was -only more eager than ever to move on his journey. - -He had no sooner struck the blueberry lot, however, than Lady Ann, the -Jersey cow, started for him, and, poking out her head, exclaimed in -mild surprise, “_Oo-oo! oo-oo!_” - -[Illustration: “_What-you-going-to-do-oo? What-you-going-to-do-oo?_”] - -And he had barely reached the road, when, to cap the climax, the sheep -from the stony pasture across the way began to chide him. “_Ba-ad! -Ba-ad!_” they bleated. - -“No, I’m _not_ bad, either!” cried Robert almost in tears. Here he had -gone cross-lots purposely to escape the villagers and now the animals -were all after him! And, stuffing his fingers in his ears, he began to -run. - -The summer sun was blazing; still Robert kept on, though with -ever-slackening speed, meeting no one but a stray dog or two and an -occasional ox-team with its sleepy driver. At length he came to a big -sign post which read: - - BLAKEVILLE 3 MILES - -“P’r’aps I’d better sit down a minute,” he said to himself. “I’m not -tired, of course, and my shoes don’t hurt--only just a little bit. I -guess there won’t be anybody to catch me ’way out here.” And as he -sat rubbing his hands over the shoes that did not hurt, he encouraged -himself with visions of the candy counter at Nurse’s village store. - -“Why, Robert, little man, what are you doing so far from home?” There -was no escaping an answer this time, for it was Mrs. Bronson, the -minister’s wife, who stood before him. - -“O--er, I’m--er going for a walk, Mrs. Bronson,” he stammered, jumping -up; and, taking off his cap, he turned on his heel and started on -again, never once daring to look behind. - -But the Sunday shoes were soon pinching in good earnest. He could -stand them no longer, so he pulled them off, and, swinging them on his -shoulder, went on in his stocking feet. - -Uphill and downhill he trudged. How hot the sun was! And how tired and -bruised his poor feet were getting! - -“I guess I’ll take another little rest,” he said as he limped across -the road. “It’s nice and shady here by the brook and I _am some_ -tired.” - -Down upon the sweet green grass he lay. The candy counter at Blakeville -was beginning to lose its charm, and-- - -Robert sat up in a sudden fright. A solemn voice was calling to him -from the woods: “_Bubby-gu-hum! Bubby-gu-hum!_” - -Robert turned fearfully, and there, on a stone in the brook, sat a -great, blinking frog. - -“I won’t go home, you naughty frog!” he cried. “I’m going to Nurse’s.” -Then, ka-splash! and Mr. Frog had disappeared. - -There was a queer buzzing in Robert’s head, and presently he was fast -asleep in spite of himself. - -The sun set. The little boy slept on. A cool breeze came up, and Robert -tried to pull the bedclothes over him, but there weren’t any clothes to -pull--and he awoke. - -He sat up and looked around. What could it all mean? When finally -it dawned upon him where he was, he set up a wail and then stood in -bewilderment. - -[Illustration: _“I won’t go home, you naughty frog,” Robert cried_] - -In a moment he started in fresh horror, hearing wheels close at hand. - -“Supposing it’s gypsies,” he groaned, “and they should carry me off! Oh -dear! Oh dear!” - -Nearer came the wheels. There was no way of escape. All he could do was -to drop down beside the road and keep so still maybe they’d think he -was a log of wood. - -Now he heard voices. There might be twenty of them. Twenty gypsies! -Could it be they were going by without noticing him? Robert hardly -dared to breathe. - -“Whoa there! What’s this?” - -A big man leaped from the team. Robert closed his eyes and tried to -pray. But all that he could think of was, “Now I lay me,” and that -would never do. - -A lantern was flashed in his face. “Bless my stars, if it isn’t our own -Robert!” - -“O Daddy, Daddy!” sobbed a frightened little voice. - -Two strong arms lifted the shivering little fellow and placed him in -the buckboard right beside his own mother. - -“Robert, Robert!” she cried tremulously. “How did you ever get way out -here at this time of night?--and in your stocking feet!” - -[Illustration: “_Oh, Mother, I want to go home, and I’ll bring in the -wood, and feed the chickens_”] - -“Oh, Mother, I was g-going to Nurse’s and my shoes hurt and I went to -sleep, but I don’t want to go there any m-more. I want to go ho-home, -and I’ll bring in the wood, and f-feed the chickens every day, and you -needn’t give me any m-money at all!” - -Then Mother, who was a wonderful magician, understood all about it. - -“Oh,” she cried softly, “supposing we had gone home by the other road!” - -But Father said, “Let’s see. It isn’t too late yet. Shan’t we turn -around and carry him to Blakeville?” - -“Oh, no, no!” pleaded Robert, clutching his father’s arm, “I want to go -_ho-ome_.” - -“Humph! you’ve really changed your mind then, have you? Well if that’s -the case, we’ll jog right along. Get up, Daisy.” - -And Robert, snuggled there up against Mother, so safe and warm, at that -moment would not have changed places with any boy living; no, not even -for all the candy in the Blakeville store! - - - - -SANDY’S VALENTINE - - -“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, Jeanie.” - -“Yes, Sandy, I know.” Jeanie turned gently to the little brother, whose -face was all swollen with mumps. - -“Say, Jeanie, wouldn’t it be nice to have a truly valentine with lace -and angels on it, like what’s in the store windows? Do you ’spose I -will get one tomorrow?” he asked wistfully. - -“Maybe you will, Sandy.” Jeanie smiled bravely, but her heart ached for -the disappointment she feared was in store for him. How she was longing -for a “truly” valentine herself, she did not breathe to Sandy. - -There were many things that sadly puzzled seven-year-old Jeanie. Why -should Father have gone to heaven to stay forever when they all -needed him so badly? Why did the rent man come so often to take all -Mother’s money as fast as she saved it? Why did the grocer never bring -a turkey to their house on Thanksgiving or Christmas? And why did the -postman never stop at their door, even on holidays, when he had so many -packages? It seemed as if one, at least, must certainly be meant for -them. - -Jeanie was turning it all over in her mind now, as she made Sandy’s -bed, this morning before Valentine’s Day, when suddenly a bright idea -came into her head, and, darting across the room to a rickety little -table, she opened the drawer and pulled out a piece of druggists’ white -paper. Smoothing it out on the table, she folded the two short edges -carefully together. - -“It looks just like boughten letter paper now, don’t it, Sandy? But -you mustn’t ask a single question, because it’s a surprise,” she said, -settling herself to write. Then for thirty long minutes, Jeanie’s stub -pencil crawled painfully over the white surface. It was a hard task for -her, especially as Mother wasn’t at home to help with the spelling. - -[Illustration: _Jeanie was turning it all over in her mind as she made -Sandy’s bed_] - -At last Jeanie heaved a deep sigh of relief. “There,” she said aloud, -“it’s all ready now but the unvelope.” Whereupon she took from the -family Bible a treasured envelope she had picked up in the street one -day. - -“It’s a perfectly good unvelope, all unstuck same’s a new one,” she -said to herself “and a nice green stamp on it. All the matter is, it’s -wrote on a little, but I can scratch that out all right.” And soon the -second-hand envelope was ready and the letter tucked inside. - -“I must go to school now, Sandy!” cried Jeanie, running for her coat -and hat. “Mother’ll be home pretty soon. Good-by.” In a moment she was -out of the door and hurrying to the mail box on the corner, where, -standing on tiptoe, she dropped in the precious missive. - -That noon, as Postman Green sat at dinner with his wife, he suddenly -exclaimed, “Oh, I ’most forgot my valentine!” and he pulled from his -pocket a sorry-looking envelope, directed to “Mister Postman himself.” - -[Illustration: _Jeanie, standing on tiptoe, dropped in the precious -missive_] - -“From one of my young admirers on Gregory Street,” he laughed, passing -it to his wife. - -Mrs. Green tore it open. “Why, it’s a letter,” she said, proceeding to -read aloud: - - DEAR MR. POSTMAN: - - I thort I wood rite you about Sandy’s valuntin; he wants one - orful--one of those kind with lace and angels on it what come in - unvelops. He has got the mumps and can’t go out, and Mother ain’t got - any money to buy a valuntin, and father has been in heaven a long - time. Won’t you plees look everywhere around the post-orfice, and - in all the boxes on the lamp-posts, and see if you can’t find one - for him? His name is Sandy Keith, and we live in the little brown - house, number 27 Gregory Street, wher you don’t ever stop, even on - Christmus. I will be looking for you at the winder tomorer noon. - Plees don’t go by or cross the street this time. - - From your frend, - - JEANIE KEITH - -“Poor little things! They mustn’t be disappointed!” cried Mrs. Green. - -“Indeed, they shan’t be,” answered the postman soberly. “I’ve just -thought up the nicest little scheme. I’ll tell you how it all comes -out tomorrow.” - -[Illustration: _The door was opened by a pale-faced little girl, -leaning on a crutch_] - -Late that afternoon Postman Green rang the bell of a fine stone house -on Hillside Avenue. The door was opened quickly by a pale-faced little -girl, leaning on a crutch. - -“Only five of them for you in this mail,” laughed the postman, as she -held out her hand, “but here’s a valentine _I_ got this morning I’d -like you to see. I’ll call for it tomorrow.” - -“Poor little rich girl!” he said to himself, as he went away. “She’ll -have something new to amuse her now.” - -The next noon Jeanie came home from school in a quiver of excitement. -Sandy met her with a rueful face. “It ain’t come, Jeanie,” he cried -reproachfully. - -“But Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet,” laughed Jeanie gaily. And, dinner -dispatched as soon as possible, she took her stand at the window. - -At that moment, several blocks away, the postman was again stopping at -the door of the great stone house. - -“I’m so glad that you showed me your valentine,” the little girl on -the crutch was saying, with sparkling eyes, “else I’d never have known -anything about them. Thank you so much. It’s the best fun I ever had.” - -It seemed a long time to Jeanie, stationed at the window, before the -familiar blue coat came in sight. - -“Oh, here he comes, Sandy!” she cried at last, clasping her hands -tightly together, “and he sees me, and he’s waving something white!” - -Jeanie flew to the door and opened it before the postman had time to -ring. - -“For Master Sandy Keith,” he announced, holding out a great white -envelope. - -“That’s him, that’s him!” cried Jeanie wildly, pointing to Sandy, who, -regardless of mumps, had followed her. “Oh, thank you, Mister Postman! -I knew you’d come. But where did you ever find such a big one?” - -“For Miss Jeanie Keith,” continued the postman, not seeming to hear, -taking from his pack another envelope as big as the first. - -“Why, that’s me!” Jeanie caught her breath. “And I wanted one awful. -But how did you know?” The postman only smiled. - -“By the way,” he said, as he turned to go, “I’ll be stopping again -before long. There’s a Christmas box that ought to have been left here -nearly two months ago. I’m real sorry I’ve neglected you all this -while.” Then he hurried off. - -Such valentines were never seen in Gregory Street before as were set -up in the window of number twenty-seven that day, nor two such bright -faces as peeped out from behind. - -“Do you ’spose there’s anybody in the whole world as happy as we are, -Sandy?” Jeanie asked a dozen times over. - -“’Course not!” responded Sandy indignantly each time. - -But they did not know about the little girl on a crutch in the fine -stone house, who was brimming over with joy that day because she had -adopted two little stranger friends, to be their valentine the whole -year round. - - - - -TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: - - - Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. - - Superscripted letters are preceded by a carat character: M^cNally. - - Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MERRY SCOUT *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A Merry Scout</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edna Payson Brett</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Garada Clark Riley</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December 5, 2021 [eBook #66888]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MERRY SCOUT ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" width="40%" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<h1>A MERRY SCOUT</h1> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Tilda and baby Maggie in her brand-new coach</i></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="" /></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<p><span class="xlarge">A MERRY SCOUT</span></p> - - -<p><i>By</i><br /> - -<span class="large">EDNA PAYSON BRETT</span></p> - - -<p><i>Illustrated by</i><br /> - -GARADA CLARK RILEY</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepagelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div> - - -<p><span class="large">RAND M<span class="ls"><sup>c<sub>.</sub></sup></span> NALLY & COMPANY</span><br /> - -CHICAGO<span class="gap"> NEW YORK</span></p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -<i>Copyright, 1922, by</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">Rand M<span class="ls2"><sup>c<sub>.</sub></sup></span> Nally</span> & <span class="smcap">Company</span></p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/versodeco.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<br /> -<p class="center">Made in U.S.A.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">THE CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="table"> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">A Merry Scout</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7"> 7</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Lending the Baby</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28"> 28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Robert’s Adventure</span> </td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44"> 44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap">Sandy’s Valentine</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55"> 55</a></td></tr> -</table> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image006.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Davy was counting the time until he could be a real scout</i></p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> - -<p class="ph2">A MERRY SCOUT</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">A MERRY SCOUT</h2> -</div> - - -<p>He didn’t belong to any patrol—he -wasn’t a real scout at all, but it wasn’t -Davy’s fault. He was only nine and a half, -you see, and that meant two years and six -months of waiting—oh, such long waiting it -seemed to Davy—before he could wear the -coveted arrow-head badge of the tenderfoot -scout and go hiking and camping like big -Cousin Fred.</p> - -<p>That is how the figures stood late in -December. It was the summer before, at -Grandfather’s, that Davy had first begun -counting the time until he should be twelve. -There, at the farm, he had met Cousin<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> -Fred. Fred was sixteen years old, a first-class -scout, patrol leader in his home town, and -a winner of the life-saving merit badge. -But he had never felt too big to take Davy -for a Sunday hike over the hills, relating -thrilling tales of scout camp life and wood-craft; -telling all about scout law, with its -twelve hard things every scout must be and -the daily good turn every scout must do; -explaining the different badges, the oath, and -the salute. What wonder that Davy wanted -to be a scout most of anything in the world!</p> - -<p>Shortly after his return in the autumn -Davy determined to take matters into his -own hands. Accordingly, one day, standing -before his looking-glass and raising his right -hand, palm to the front, he solemnly swore to -the oath, all by himself; then he pinned under -his jacket, right over his heart, a secret -badge of his own designing. There he had -worn it ever since, and considered himself as -honor-bound to the oath as any scout living.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image009.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Standing before his looking-glass, Davy swore to the oath, by himself</i></p> - -<p>It was now two days before Christmas. -There had been a snowstorm, clearing about -noon. Davy had hailed it with whoops of -delight. Now, by shoveling walks, he might -earn money to get a Christmas present for -Mother and Father, after all. It could not -be the magnificent azalea and real leather -pocketbook he had first dreamed of—that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -had been on the expectation of at least six -snowstorms; but there was a gay little -Jerusalem cherry tree for Mother, and for -Dad a beauty of a tie, red and green -changeable. Davy had selected them days -ago—all he was waiting for was a job. -What luck it should be Saturday and no -school!</p> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image011.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>For one reason or another, nobody seemed to need Davy’s services</i></p> - - -<p>When the one o’clock whistle blew, Davy -and his snow shovel were well on their way, -bound for an attractive-looking corner house -out on the avenue—corner houses were -twice the job of ordinary places. Davy -pressed the bell button confidently. A sour-looking -maid opened the door an inch, -snapped out “No,” and banged it to before -Davy could get out a word. He stood -staring at the door for a moment, his mouth -still open, but a minute later he was striding -across the street to the opposite corner, once -more wearing his sturdy scout smile. There, -however, they kept a hired man; next door,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -a big boy was already at work. For one -reason or another, nobody seemed to need -Davy’s services, and it began to look as if -Daddy and Mother might not get their -Christmas gifts at all; only, Davy was -determined. At last a nice little lady twinkled -“yes” over her spectacles. But Davy was -only on his third contract, with a shortage -of ten cents staring him in the face, when -the town clock struck four.</p> - - - -<p>“Well, I declare, you work as if you -meant business!” A jolly old man paused -at Davy’s elbow. “Come up to number -seventy Lexington Avenue—electric light in -front—and I’ll give you a job. My pay -is thirty cents. If you aren’t there by a -quarter of five, I’ll take it you’ve struck -something nearer by and do it myself.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, I’ll be there, all right. Thank -you, sir!” Davy’s spirits rose to the crown -of his cap. The necktie and cherry tree were -in sight again—and a box of candy too.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image013.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Davy nearly ran down a young lady dashing along with a suitcase and<br /> -an umbrella, in a frantic effort to overtake a passing trolley</i></p> - -<p>Fifteen minutes later he was scuttling -out to Lexington Avenue. As he was crossing -the street, a block or two from the -railroad station, he nearly ran down a -young lady dashing along with a suitcase, -a handbag, and an umbrella, in a frantic -effort to overtake a passing trolley.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>“Hey, there, hey!” yelled Davy, but -the car whizzed right along.</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear!” panted the young lady, -dropping her suit case. “I’ve lost it, and -there won’t be another Fletcher Avenue car -for fifteen minutes.” She looked as if about -to drop, herself, and Davy involuntarily -stretched out a small hand to steady her.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she gasped. “I do feel a -little shaky, running with this heavy luggage. -I believe I’ll go around the corner to the -drug store and get something hot—provided -I can secure a trusty young man to watch -my suitcase.” She smiled confidently down -into Davy’s honest face. “I’ll be back in -ten minutes, in time to catch the next car.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you can trust me, <i>sure</i>!” Davy -smiled back. A scout has to be helpful and -courteous, especially to people in trouble.</p> - -<p>“And you’ll stay right here with it and -not let anyone touch it? It contains all -my Christmas presents, you see.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>Davy promised with his hand over his -badge, but of course she couldn’t see that -away under his jacket!</p> - -<p>He watched her anxiously as she crossed -the street and turned the corner. Then he -sat down on one end of the bag, his snow -shovel at his feet, and began to consider.</p> - -<p>It was now twenty-two minutes after -four by the clock in the little tailor shop -at his left, and he must meet his appointment -at a quarter of five or lose his job. -Luckily, he had planned to get there ahead -of time—and she would be back in ten -minutes—so he’d keep his date all right.</p> - -<p>Trinity chimes pealed the half-hour. -Eight minutes gone, and she hadn’t returned.</p> - -<p>Now in the distance appeared a Fletcher -Avenue car—<i>her</i> car, that she would surely be -back to take! It approached, passed—and -she hadn’t come. Something must have happened! -If he could only go around the corner -and find out—but there was his promise.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>Another five minutes gone—why didn’t -she come? He might still make it if he ran.</p> - -<p>The chimes rang out a quarter of five! -It was all up now about the job, and he -was still ten cents short on his Christmas -fund, for he could not take a tip from the -lady—a scout may never accept pay for -a good turn. A chill wind was coming up, -and it was growing darker and darker on -the lonely corner. Davy stood up and -stamped his feet to get out the numbness. -But a scout has to be cheerful, no matter -<i>what</i>, and he tried to whistle.</p> - -<p>The town clock struck five. The little -tailor came out of his little shop, rattled his -big key in his door, and was gone, leaving -Davy lonesomer than ever. He brushed his -eyes with his coat sleeve. A scout cry? -Never! But he was so cold and lonesome -and disappointed about the job! He hadn’t -thought that being a scout would be just -like this.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>Then suddenly, clearer than the chimes, -he seemed to hear Cousin Fred’s cheerful -voice again, reciting their favorite passage -from the law: “<i>A scout is brave. He has -the courage to face danger in spite of fear.</i>” -And Davy knew, for sure, that he wasn’t -going to desert his post, no, not even if it -meant an all-night watch! He turned up -his coat collar and with better success started -whistling again, keeping time with his toes as -he paced up and down.</p> - -<p>“Hello, pard, waitin’ fer yer airship?” -A burly young tough whom Davy had -noticed hanging around the opposite corner -swaggered up with a cigarette in his mouth. -“What yer got there? Nuggets or bombs?” -giving the suitcase a kick. “Aw, say,” he -added, with a crafty smile, “I’ll mind it -whilst yer beat it to Jakey’s fer a bag o’ -peanuts,” and he held out a nickel.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image018.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Davy turned up his coat collar and started whistling</i></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>“Oh, no, thank you.” Davy sat down -on the suitcase in a hurry. “I couldn’t -think of leaving it to anyone, not even somebody -I know. I promised her, you see—the -young lady—to keep it till she came back. -It’s got all her Christmas presents in it!” -Davy added proudly.</p> - -<p>The ruffian’s eyes narrowed. He cunningly -changed his tactics. “Say, kid, what -did she look like—her that belongs to the -bag?”</p> - -<p>“All kind o’ brown clothes and pretty -and dreadful white in the face. Maybe -you’ve seen her?” wistfully.</p> - -<p>“Well, what do yer know!” Davy felt -his arm clutched tight. “Believe <i>me</i>, pard, -that young lady’s a pertic’ler friend o’ -mine! And if you’ll jest remove yerself -from her trunk there, I’ll be <i>dee</i>-lighted to -fetch it to her. Here, I’ll stand fer her -tip,” trying to slip a coin into Davy’s hand.</p> - -<p>“No, sir!” Davy set his jaw fast and -plumped down his little body more protectingly -than ever over his charge.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>“Aw, yer won’t, won’t yer? We’ll -see,” sneered the ruffian, casting a furtive -glance to right and left.</p> - -<p>In an agony Davy followed his glance, -but no help was in sight—save an approaching -trolley, and that probably wouldn’t -stop. Oh, if only some one <i>would</i> come, -or if he were only bigger, or had a magic -sling like that David of old! But no, all -unarmed he must meet <i>his</i> giant Goliath. -Was ever a true scout up against heavier -odds? Then, in his dire need, he seemed -to hear Cousin Fred’s voice again, “<i>A scout -has the courage ... to stand up for the right ... against -the threats of enemies ... and -defeat does not down him</i>.”</p> - -<p>Davy braced himself for whatever might -come—and it came promptly. A sharp -wrench, a vicious punch, and the suitcase -was in the hands of the enemy, and Davy -flattened on the ground, well-nigh winded. -It was a black moment for the brave little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -scout. Everything lost—and what would -<i>she</i> think? And he had tried so hard!</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image021.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>“Aw, yer won’t, won’t yer? We’ll see,” sneered the ruffian</i></p> - -<p>Then—Ah, the trusty snow shovel, -Davy’s ally that hadn’t been reckoned on. -<i>Trip-ity-rip!</i> Over it went the enemy with -an ugly growl, sprawling into the gutter!</p> - -<p>And the car <i>had</i> stopped, depositing a -broad-shouldered young man who saw what<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -had occurred and was now making rapid -strides toward Davy. The ruffian, scenting -trouble, picked himself up, and limped a -double-quick retreat through the shadow and -around the corner—with<i>out</i> the bag!</p> - -<p>“Well, well, here you are, standing by -your guns, just as she said you’d be!” The -young man was addressing Davy, who had -managed to get on his legs once more and -regain his charge. “Say, but you’re game -all right!” At the word of appreciation -and the comradely slap on his shoulder, -Davy suddenly didn’t mind any more about -the long waiting, losing the job, and having -the wind knocked out of him.</p> - -<p>“You’re looking pretty white about the -gills, though,” the big young man’s voice -was very kind. “Beastly long ten minutes, -wasn’t it? She didn’t count on fainting, -you see, and that sort of thing. She’s my -sister—teaches in the South—was going to -spring a surprise on the family by coming<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> -home for the holidays. Here, I’ll take that -ark off your hands and start you homeward. -Your folks’ll be getting worried about you.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image023.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Ah, the trusty snow shovel, trip-ity-rip! Over it went the enemy</i></p> - -<p>Oh, how Davy longed to accept the proffered -release! But no, “I—I—I can’t,” he -stammered. “I promised, and a scout has to -keep his word.” Oh, it was hard to say “no” -to this friendly young man. It took almost -more courage than fighting the ruffian.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>“Well, that’s a good one on me!” The -big young man turned away his face to save -Davy’s feelings. “A <i>scout</i>, did I hear you -say?” He was quite serious now. “But -you’re some way short of twelve?”</p> - -<p>Then, of course, Davy had to tell about -the secret badge, who he was, where he -lived, Cousin Fred, and the encounter with -the ruffian.</p> - -<p>“Come, give us your hand, brother -scout. You’re the real article, certificate or -no certificate!” Davy’s small, mittened -palm was taken in a mighty grip. “Now -stand on the suitcase and look here”—the -big young man opened his greatcoat—“on -my sleeve, can you see?” taking out a -pocket flashlight.</p> - -<p>Davy saw. The badge of the scout -master—a sure guarantee of all that was -honorable and loyal, trustworthy and brave. -It was like the coming of the Prince in -fairy tales. Davy’s eyes glowed. Words<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -failed him, but off came his right red mitten -and three fingers were raised to his forehead -in reverent salute. Then he quietly slipped -from the suitcase, and, the weary watch -over at last, joyfully resigned his charge -into lawful hands.</p> - -<p>“I say! you’re a dandy little scout, -just the kind I’m looking for. And if -only I were a magician, I’d hustle those -next three birthdays of yours along in no -time at all. But here’s your car—you’ll -hear from us later. Good-by!” And with -a parting slap for Davy and a nickel to -the conductor, the scout master was gone.</p> - -<p>On Christmas morning there came a -package and a letter for Davy, both in -the same unfamiliar hand. The package -contained a most wonderful book, and the -letter read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Little Merry Scout</span>:</p> - -<p>Yes, that is what I have named you, for where -would there have been any Merry Christmas for me<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> -but for your valiant defense of my precious bag! I -am so sorry for what you had to endure on my behalf, -but I am very happy to add to my acquaintance one -more person who can be trusted, whatever the cost -to him. Surely, never was a real, truly boy scout -more faithful to his oath than my little scout of the -secret order.</p> - -<p>I hope you will enjoy the <i>Animal Book and Camp-Fire -Stories</i>, by Dan Beard, National Scout Commissioner, -which my brother and I are sending you as a -small token of our gratitude.</p> - -<p>We are planning to see you very soon.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="indentright">Most cordially your friend,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Agatha Alden</span>.</p> -</div> - -<p>“Gee!” gasped Davy, turning rapturously -from letter to book and back to -letter again. “But any scout would have -had to do it, wouldn’t he, Dad?”</p> - -<p>Father, admiring his new Christmas tie -before the sideboard mirror, smiled down -into Davy’s earnest face reflected therein. -“I should certainly say he would, my son,” -he agreed, without hesitation. But the eyes -he turned to Mother, across the room, were -brimming over with pride.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image027.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>On Christmas morning there came a package and a letter for Davy</i></p> - -<p>“<i>Our</i> little Merry Christmas Scout,” -softly responded Mother, who was tending -a gay little Jerusalem cherry tree at the -window. Sometimes there are bargains, you -know, the last thing before Christmas, and -so Davy’s ten-cent shortage didn’t matter, -after all!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">LENDING THE BABY</h2> -</div> - - -<p>Lakeside Park was fairly a-blossom with -children that bright summer morning, babies -<i>and</i> babies—chubby little boys in clean -jaunty blouses, dainty little girls, fresher -than the posies as they skipped about in -their spick-and-span frocks—all safeguarded -by grown-ups.</p> - -<p>Bumpity-bump! Nurses, big sisters, and -children turned out in a hurry to make -room for Tilda, of the tenement, and baby -Maggie in her brand-new coach. Tilda -nodded and smiled shyly at the other little -boys and girls as she pushed along the -gorgeous gocart, a present that very morning -from dear, freckled, carrot-headed Pete, -of the same crowded tenement. Pete had -made it his own self a-purpose for Maggie, -out of a nice soap box and a pair of old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -wheels taken in trade with the rag man. -And the red paint—the crowning glory of -it all—he had earned doing odd jobs for -Michael, the carpenter.</p> - -<p>Wee Maggie, scrubbed to a polish, dimpled -and babbled as she rumbled along. -And what mattered to Tilda any longer the -hot mile of dusty city walk—the tiresome -journey from the tenement—now at last -she had reached her beloved park? Oh, the -cool, woodsy, sweet-smelling park! Here -you could see such lots of the blue sky -above the wavy trees and look as much as -you liked at brilliant beds of geraniums -and verbenas—so long as you didn’t pick -them. And here, down by the ripply -water, you could watch the whitest swans -gliding along so elegantly, but not too -superior to accept the bits of cake tossed -from the bank by their young admirers.</p> - -<p>By and by Tilda turned into a secluded -path and came suddenly upon a lady seated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -all alone on a rustic bench. She was leaning -her head on one hand and paying not -a speck of attention to any of the beautiful -things about her, not even to Mr. Robin, -who was calling “cheer up” so insistently -from the tip-toppest twig of the neighboring -birch.</p> - -<p>Deary me, what could be the matter? -Tilda halted for exactly one quarter of a -minute, then, dropping the cart handle, tiptoed -across the grass, and, gently nudging -the lady’s arm, whispered, “Are you sick, -missis?”</p> - -<p>The stranger started and glanced up, -very much surprised to find a small girl -in a faded, patched gingham gazing at her -with solicitous gray eyes.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, child, I’m not ill, thank you! -What made you think—but who is that -little one in the wagon?” she asked with -a sudden show of interest, interrupting -herself.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span></p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image031.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Deary me, what could be the matter?</i></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>“Why, that’s my baby.” Tilda grew -tall with pride.</p> - -<p>“<i>Your</i> baby!” The sad lady very nearly -smiled.</p> - -<p>“Yes, isn’t she grand?” Tilda shoved -the cart close up to the bench. “She’s -Maggie. Open your mouth, Maggie, and -show the missis your teeth.”</p> - -<p>“She <i>is</i> a dear baby,” agreed the lady -wistfully, patting Maggie’s little tow head -with tender fingers.</p> - -<p>“Maybe you’ve got one at home, too?” -ventured Tilda.</p> - -<p>“N-no, not now.” The lady’s voice was, -oh, so sorry! A big lump came right up -into Tilda’s throat and tears had started -on their way when a happy idea sent them -straight back again.</p> - -<p>In less than two shakes of a lambkin’s -tail she had snatched wee Maggie from the -gocart and landed her pat on the strange -lady’s lap.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image033.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>The lady snuggled Maggie close and held out one hand to Tilda</i></p> - -<p>“I’ll lend you my baby, missis,” she -offered softly. “You can take her every day. -I’ll fetch her in the gocart and”—Tilda faltered, -then continued bravely—“you can make -b’lieve she’s yours and not ours at all.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, thank you, dear!” Really truly -smiles now chased away the lady’s tears. -She snuggled Maggie close and held out -one hand to Tilda.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>“Yes, indeed, I should like to borrow -wee Maggie often, and you, too, little -mother! You are better than the sunshine. -Come sit down here and tell me all about -yourself and baby.”</p> - -<p>The stray passers-by smiled with friendly -interest at the odd trio seated there so -cozily on the park bench: cheery little Tilda -from the tenement in her faded blue gingham, -punctuating the conversation with -intermittent bobbings of her funny, homemade -Dutch cut; the beautiful young -woman known to society as a wealthy -banker’s wife—Tilda immediately had dubbed -her “Fairy Godmother”—in an immaculate -white costume; and wee, rosy Maggie -in a pink dotted calico cuddled between -them.</p> - -<p>Fairy Godmother listened with a strange, -new awakening as Tilda, with glowing -eyes, went on to enumerate all her riches. -First, of course, there was Maggie, the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -sweetest baby in the world, and dear -Mother, who worked so hard to provide -for them since Father’s death. Then there -were her precious day school and Sunday -school, the enchanted park—Tilda loved to -pretend it was full of fairies—and there -were Pete and the gocart, and now there -was Fairy Godmother herself.</p> - -<p>“Tilda,” a light struggled bravely -through the mist in Fairy Godmother’s -eyes, “this is my own baby’s birthday—darling -little Anne, who was lent to us -for twelve happy months, then taken back -by the Father of us all. It was to this -same park nurse and I used to bring her, -and so I came here today to keep her -birthday. But your bright little selves -have shown me a better way. Yes, I’m -going to borrow you both and take you -to my home to help me change this day -from the saddest to the gladdest day of -all the year.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span></p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image036.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Shortly they were spinning along in the trolley, the gocart on the rear platform</i></p> - -<p>Shortly they were spinning along in the -trolley, with the precious gocart on the rear -platform. And before Tilda had a chance to -really “come to,” Fairy Godmother was saying, -“Here we are.” The car stopped, the -jolly conductor helped them out, gocart and -all, and in a moment more Tilda found herself -entering the “stylishest” house she had -ever seen. She followed on tiptoe into the -grand hall, up the wide stairs, and stepped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> -straight into fairyland. It wasn’t any dream -kind, either, that you wake up from right in -the most exciting place. Tilda made sure of -that by biting her finger hard—and it <i>hurt</i>.</p> - -<p>Fairy Godmother deposited Maggie on -the lovely blue center of the loveliest-of-all -rugs—Tilda’s feet were loth to tread on any -of them. Then she touched a funny little -button, and, presto! it was just like Arabian -Nights, excepting it wasn’t one of the <i>genii</i> -that appeared—only a pretty, rosy-cheeked -woman, in the tiniest white cap and apron. -She stood in the doorway, looking so surprised -at the little strangers that Tilda became -suddenly conscious of the patches in her -gingham frock, and the places where there -<i>should</i> have been patches in her shoes.</p> - -<p>“Norah,” reminded Fairy Godmother -gently, “this is little Anne’s birthday, and -these dear children have come to spend it -with me and help to make it glad.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, marm,” responded Norah. And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -Tilda followed her glance to the life-sized -portrait of a wee blue-eyed baby as sweet—yes, -as Maggie herself. Fairy Godmother -had a little tête-à-tête with Norah, who soon -left the room, turning as she went to send an -assuring smile to the now welcome visitors.</p> - -<p>Then Tilda and Maggie went to a wonderful -concert—all the time staying just -where they were. Ladies and gentlemen they -couldn’t see at all came and sang to them, -and whole orchestras and bands, all from the -same mysterious little box, played music that -set delicious thrills shivering down Tilda’s -back, and her feet to beating time. Sousa’s -band had just finished “El Capitan” when -some sweet little chimes tinkled out in the hall.</p> - -<p>“Come, Tilda.” Fairy Godmother picked -up Maggie and led the way downstairs, out to -the honeysuckle porch overlooking the garden.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image039.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Tilda and Maggie went to a wonderful concert—all<br /> the time staying just -where they were</i></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>There, as if the fairies had been at -work, stood the dearest little table that -ever was, on land or sea, with rosebuds -in the middle and set for just three, with -little rosebud dishes. My! but that was a -party for any royal princess, cocoa with -a lovely white foam on top, tiny three-cornered -chicken sandwiches, ice cream and -strawberries—two plates if you wanted -them—frosted cake and candy besides, and -milk for Maggie from a real silver cup! -The only sorry part of it was baby Anne -could not be there, too, for her own birthday. -Probably heaven was just as nice, -though Tilda could scarcely believe it.</p> - -<p>After the “party” Maggie was tucked up -cozily on the veranda couch for a nap, and -Tilda was escorted to the garden to meet -General Jack, Lady Gay, Baltimore Belles, -American Beauties, and other celebrities, -to say nothing of the pert little Pansy -folk, who turned up their saucy faces at her. -And Fairy Godmother said she might pick -all the roses she wanted, her own self. -Fancy it—dozens of them—red, white, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -pink, like the grandest lady of the land! And -every now and then, as Tilda stole a shy -glance at Fairy Godmother’s glad face, her -own beamed brighter than ever.</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image041.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Fairy Godmother said she might pick all the roses she wanted</i></p> - -<p>An hour flew by as hours only can in -Fairyland gardens.</p> - -<p>“Honk, honk!” Tilda jumped to one -side quicker than pop, it sounded so near,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -and Fairy Godmother, standing on the -porch with wide-awake Maggie in her arms, -laughed outright.</p> - -<p>“It is talking to us, Tilda,” she explained, -“and says, ‘Come out front.’”</p> - -<p>There by the curb stood a splendid great, -shiny auto, waiting for Tilda and Maggie.</p> - -<p>Out from the front seat hopped a nice -big man with a nice big smile to match, -to help them all in and get them settled.</p> - -<p>“This is ‘Fairy Godfather,’ Tilda,” introduced -Fairy Godmother. “He’s heard all -about you and Maggie over the ’phone.”</p> - -<p>“I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Tilda -and Maggie,” he said in a nice big voice -as he held out his hand, and Tilda felt -almost too magnificent to live.</p> - -<p>Norah now came flying out with a mysterious -box, which she handed right over -to Tilda. Then Fairy Godfather packed in -the gocart and away they whizzed for the -tenement—by way of the shore.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>Two hours later, when tired Mother -came home from her long day’s work, a -radiant and breathless Tilda met her at -the door and invited her to a royal spread.</p> - -<p>“Do have some more cake and another -cup of tea,” insisted the little hostess gayly. -“And just think, Mother, a trip to the -country for all of us for two whole weeks! -Isn’t it grand? And there’ll be cows and -chickens and green grass and flowers, and -the rent paid all the while we’re gone! -But most the wonderfulest part of it all”—Tilda’s -eyes grew starry—“was how Fairy -Godmother kept getting gladder ’n’ gladder -all the time. And she said ‘thank you’ to -me, Mother, and Fairy Godfather did, too, -’s if <i>I’d</i> done anything, when you know -positive sure I never did one single thing -’cept lending Maggie.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not so sure about that, dear.” -And Mother patted the scraggly Dutch cut -tenderly, smiling into Tilda’s questioning eyes.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ROBERT’S ADVENTURE</h2> -</div> - - -<p>“Good-by, Robert,” called Mother, as -she and Father drove off for the city one -summer afternoon. “Don’t forget to fill the -wood box, dear, and to feed the chickens.”</p> - -<p>“Good-by,” answered the boy from the -stone wall, without looking up.</p> - -<p>Robert was discontented. He was tired -of filling the wood box and feeding the -chickens every day, and for only five cents -a week. Five cents a week! Yes, that was -all he had to spend for candy, marbles, and -everything, while Timmie Marsh, who lived -down the road, had a nickel about every -day, and he never had to work at all.</p> - -<p>Robert had been thinking and thinking -what could be done about it, and at last -he had made up his mind. He would go -to Blakeville that very afternoon to old<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -Nurse Tucker’s. He could walk four miles -easily, and Nurse would be so glad to see -him.</p> - -<p>“Of course,” he said to himself, “I’ll -write to Mother, so she’ll know I’m not -drowned or anything. And I’ll tell her how -Nurse gives me five cents for candy every -day—’course she will—and how I don’t -have to do any work, either. Then won’t -Daddy come for me quick and say if I’ll -only go back with him, I needn’t bring in -the wood or feed the chickens or do anything -unless I feel like it, and I can have -all the money I want, besides!”</p> - -<p>And now, as the buckboard vanished -in the distance, Robert turned toward the -house to carry out his plan. He could hear -Mandy, the hired girl, singing at her work -as he tiptoed cautiously in at the wood-shed -door and up to his room.</p> - -<p>After giving his hair one hasty stroke -with the brush and putting on his Sunday<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -shoes and stockings, he considered his toilet -completed and was soon stealing out of the -wood shed again, unobserved by Mandy.</p> - -<p>A moment later Robert was skulking -through the barnyard, making a bee line for -the blueberry lot and the turnpike. But -what made the chickens act so queerly? -Mrs. Bantam, with her head cocked on one -side, eyed him suspiciously as he crept along, -while the great white rooster flew upon the -coop and screamed right out, so loud that -Robert feared the whole village would hear. -“<i>What-you-going-to-do-oo? What-you-going-to-do-oo?</i>” -Robert did not think best to answer, -but was only more eager than ever to move -on his journey.</p> - -<p>He had no sooner struck the blueberry -lot, however, than Lady Ann, the Jersey cow, -started for him, and, poking out her head, -exclaimed in mild surprise, “<i>Oo-oo! oo-oo!</i>”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span></p> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image047.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“<i>What-you-going-to-do-oo? What-you-going-to-do-oo?</i>”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>And he had barely reached the road, -when, to cap the climax, the sheep from -the stony pasture across the way began to -chide him. “<i>Ba-ad! Ba-ad!</i>” they bleated.</p> - -<p>“No, I’m <i>not</i> bad, either!” cried Robert -almost in tears. Here he had gone cross-lots -purposely to escape the villagers and -now the animals were all after him! And, -stuffing his fingers in his ears, he began to run.</p> - -<p>The summer sun was blazing; still Robert -kept on, though with ever-slackening speed, -meeting no one but a stray dog or two -and an occasional ox-team with its sleepy -driver. At length he came to a big sign -post which read:</p> - -<p class="center">BLAKEVILLE 3 MILES</p> - -<p>“P’r’aps I’d better sit down a minute,” -he said to himself. “I’m not tired, of course, -and my shoes don’t hurt—only just a little -bit. I guess there won’t be anybody to catch -me ’way out here.” And as he sat rubbing -his hands over the shoes that did not hurt, -he encouraged himself with visions of the -candy counter at Nurse’s village store.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>“Why, Robert, little man, what are you -doing so far from home?” There was no -escaping an answer this time, for it was -Mrs. Bronson, the minister’s wife, who stood -before him.</p> - -<p>“O—er, I’m—er going for a walk, Mrs. -Bronson,” he stammered, jumping up; and, -taking off his cap, he turned on his heel -and started on again, never once daring to -look behind.</p> - -<p>But the Sunday shoes were soon pinching -in good earnest. He could stand them -no longer, so he pulled them off, and, swinging -them on his shoulder, went on in his -stocking feet.</p> - -<p>Uphill and downhill he trudged. How -hot the sun was! And how tired and bruised -his poor feet were getting!</p> - -<p>“I guess I’ll take another little rest,” -he said as he limped across the road. “It’s -nice and shady here by the brook and I <i>am -some</i> tired.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>Down upon the sweet green grass he -lay. The candy counter at Blakeville was -beginning to lose its charm, and—</p> - -<p>Robert sat up in a sudden fright. A -solemn voice was calling to him from the -woods: “<i>Bubby-gu-hum! Bubby-gu-hum!</i>”</p> - -<p>Robert turned fearfully, and there, on a -stone in the brook, sat a great, blinking frog.</p> - -<p>“I won’t go home, you naughty frog!” -he cried. “I’m going to Nurse’s.” Then, -ka-splash! and Mr. Frog had disappeared.</p> - -<p>There was a queer buzzing in Robert’s -head, and presently he was fast asleep in -spite of himself.</p> - -<p>The sun set. The little boy slept on. -A cool breeze came up, and Robert tried -to pull the bedclothes over him, but there -weren’t any clothes to pull—and he awoke.</p> - -<p>He sat up and looked around. What -could it all mean? When finally it dawned -upon him where he was, he set up a wail -and then stood in bewilderment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image051.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>“I won’t go home, you naughty frog,” Robert cried</i></p> - -<p>In a moment he started in fresh horror, -hearing wheels close at hand.</p> - -<p>“Supposing it’s gypsies,” he groaned, -“and they should carry me off! Oh dear! -Oh dear!”</p> - -<p>Nearer came the wheels. There was no -way of escape. All he could do was to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> -drop down beside the road and keep so still -maybe they’d think he was a log of wood.</p> - -<p>Now he heard voices. There might be -twenty of them. Twenty gypsies! Could -it be they were going by without noticing -him? Robert hardly dared to breathe.</p> - -<p>“Whoa there! What’s this?”</p> - -<p>A big man leaped from the team. Robert -closed his eyes and tried to pray. But all -that he could think of was, “Now I lay -me,” and that would never do.</p> - -<p>A lantern was flashed in his face. -“Bless my stars, if it isn’t our own Robert!”</p> - -<p>“O Daddy, Daddy!” sobbed a frightened -little voice.</p> - -<p>Two strong arms lifted the shivering -little fellow and placed him in the buckboard -right beside his own mother.</p> - -<p>“Robert, Robert!” she cried tremulously. -“How did you ever get way out -here at this time of night?—and in your -stocking feet!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image053.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption">“<i>Oh, Mother, I want to go home, and I’ll bring in the wood,<br /> -and feed the chickens</i>”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Mother, I was g-going to Nurse’s -and my shoes hurt and I went to sleep, but -I don’t want to go there any m-more. I -want to go ho-home, and I’ll bring in the -wood, and f-feed the chickens every day, -and you needn’t give me any m-money -at all!”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>Then Mother, who was a wonderful -magician, understood all about it.</p> - -<p>“Oh,” she cried softly, “supposing we -had gone home by the other road!”</p> - -<p>But Father said, “Let’s see. It isn’t -too late yet. Shan’t we turn around and -carry him to Blakeville?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, no!” pleaded Robert, clutching -his father’s arm, “I want to go <i>ho-ome</i>.”</p> - -<p>“Humph! you’ve really changed your -mind then, have you? Well if that’s the -case, we’ll jog right along. Get up, Daisy.”</p> - -<p>And Robert, snuggled there up against -Mother, so safe and warm, at that moment -would not have changed places with any -boy living; no, not even for all the candy -in the Blakeville store!</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">SANDY’S VALENTINE</h2> -</div> - - -<p>“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, Jeanie.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, Sandy, I know.” Jeanie turned -gently to the little brother, whose face was -all swollen with mumps.</p> - -<p>“Say, Jeanie, wouldn’t it be nice to -have a truly valentine with lace and angels -on it, like what’s in the store windows? -Do you ’spose I will get one tomorrow?” -he asked wistfully.</p> - -<p>“Maybe you will, Sandy.” Jeanie -smiled bravely, but her heart ached for the -disappointment she feared was in store for -him. How she was longing for a “truly” -valentine herself, she did not breathe to -Sandy.</p> - -<p>There were many things that sadly -puzzled seven-year-old Jeanie. Why should -Father have gone to heaven to stay forever<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> -when they all needed him so badly? Why -did the rent man come so often to take -all Mother’s money as fast as she saved it? -Why did the grocer never bring a turkey to -their house on Thanksgiving or Christmas? -And why did the postman never stop at their -door, even on holidays, when he had so many -packages? It seemed as if one, at least, -must certainly be meant for them.</p> - -<p>Jeanie was turning it all over in her -mind now, as she made Sandy’s bed, this -morning before Valentine’s Day, when suddenly -a bright idea came into her head, and, -darting across the room to a rickety little -table, she opened the drawer and pulled out -a piece of druggists’ white paper. Smoothing -it out on the table, she folded the two -short edges carefully together.</p> - -<p>“It looks just like boughten letter paper -now, don’t it, Sandy? But you mustn’t ask -a single question, because it’s a surprise,” -she said, settling herself to write. Then for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -thirty long minutes, Jeanie’s stub pencil -crawled painfully over the white surface. -It was a hard task for her, especially as -Mother wasn’t at home to help with the -spelling.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image057.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Jeanie was turning it all over in her mind as she made Sandy’s bed</i></p> - -<p>At last Jeanie heaved a deep sigh of -relief. “There,” she said aloud, “it’s all ready -now but the unvelope.” Whereupon she took<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -from the family Bible a treasured envelope -she had picked up in the street one day.</p> - -<p>“It’s a perfectly good unvelope, all -unstuck same’s a new one,” she said to herself -“and a nice green stamp on it. All the -matter is, it’s wrote on a little, but I can -scratch that out all right.” And soon the -second-hand envelope was ready and the -letter tucked inside.</p> - -<p>“I must go to school now, Sandy!” -cried Jeanie, running for her coat and hat. -“Mother’ll be home pretty soon. Good-by.” -In a moment she was out of the door and -hurrying to the mail box on the corner, -where, standing on tiptoe, she dropped in -the precious missive.</p> - -<p>That noon, as Postman Green sat at -dinner with his wife, he suddenly exclaimed, -“Oh, I ’most forgot my valentine!” and -he pulled from his pocket a sorry-looking -envelope, directed to “Mister Postman himself.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span></p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image059.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>Jeanie, standing on tiptoe, dropped in the precious missive</i></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>“From one of my young admirers on -Gregory Street,” he laughed, passing it to -his wife.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Green tore it open. “Why, it’s a -letter,” she said, proceeding to read aloud:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p><span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Postman</span>:</p> - -<p>I thort I wood rite you about Sandy’s valuntin; -he wants one orful—one of those kind with lace and -angels on it what come in unvelops. He has got the -mumps and can’t go out, and Mother ain’t got any -money to buy a valuntin, and father has been in -heaven a long time. Won’t you plees look everywhere -around the post-orfice, and in all the boxes on the -lamp-posts, and see if you can’t find one for him? -His name is Sandy Keith, and we live in the little -brown house, number 27 Gregory Street, wher you -don’t ever stop, even on Christmus. I will be looking -for you at the winder tomorer noon. Plees don’t go -by or cross the street this time.</p> - -<p>From your frend,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Jeanie Keith</span></p> -</div> - -<p>“Poor little things! They mustn’t be -disappointed!” cried Mrs. Green.</p> - -<p>“Indeed, they shan’t be,” answered the -postman soberly. “I’ve just thought up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> -the nicest little scheme. I’ll tell you how -it all comes out tomorrow.”</p> - - -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/image061.jpg" alt="" /></div> -<p class="caption"><i>The door was opened by a pale-faced little girl, leaning on a crutch</i></p> - -<p>Late that afternoon Postman Green rang -the bell of a fine stone house on Hillside -Avenue. The door was opened quickly by -a pale-faced little girl, leaning on a crutch.</p> - -<p>“Only five of them for you in this -mail,” laughed the postman, as she held out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -her hand, “but here’s a valentine <i>I</i> got this -morning I’d like you to see. I’ll call for -it tomorrow.”</p> - -<p>“Poor little rich girl!” he said to himself, -as he went away. “She’ll have something -new to amuse her now.”</p> - -<p>The next noon Jeanie came home from -school in a quiver of excitement. Sandy -met her with a rueful face. “It ain’t come, -Jeanie,” he cried reproachfully.</p> - -<p>“But Valentine’s Day isn’t over yet,” -laughed Jeanie gaily. And, dinner dispatched -as soon as possible, she took her -stand at the window.</p> - -<p>At that moment, several blocks away, -the postman was again stopping at the door -of the great stone house.</p> - -<p>“I’m so glad that you showed me your -valentine,” the little girl on the crutch was -saying, with sparkling eyes, “else I’d never -have known anything about them. Thank -you so much. It’s the best fun I ever had.”</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>It seemed a long time to Jeanie, -stationed at the window, before the familiar -blue coat came in sight.</p> - -<p>“Oh, here he comes, Sandy!” she cried -at last, clasping her hands tightly together, -“and he sees me, and he’s waving something -white!”</p> - -<p>Jeanie flew to the door and opened it -before the postman had time to ring.</p> - -<p>“For Master Sandy Keith,” he announced, -holding out a great white envelope.</p> - -<p>“That’s him, that’s him!” cried Jeanie -wildly, pointing to Sandy, who, regardless of -mumps, had followed her. “Oh, thank you, -Mister Postman! I knew you’d come. But -where did you ever find such a big one?”</p> - -<p>“For Miss Jeanie Keith,” continued the -postman, not seeming to hear, taking from -his pack another envelope as big as the first.</p> - -<p>“Why, that’s me!” Jeanie caught her -breath. “And I wanted one awful. But how -did you know?” The postman only smiled.</p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>“By the way,” he said, as he turned -to go, “I’ll be stopping again before long. -There’s a Christmas box that ought to have -been left here nearly two months ago. I’m -real sorry I’ve neglected you all this while.” -Then he hurried off.</p> - -<p>Such valentines were never seen in -Gregory Street before as were set up in the -window of number twenty-seven that day, -nor two such bright faces as peeped out -from behind.</p> - -<p>“Do you ’spose there’s anybody in the -whole world as happy as we are, Sandy?” -Jeanie asked a dozen times over.</p> - -<p>“’Course not!” responded Sandy indignantly -each time.</p> - -<p>But they did not know about the little -girl on a crutch in the fine stone house, -who was brimming over with joy that day -because she had adopted two little stranger -friends, to be their valentine the whole year -round.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="transnote"> -<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:</p> - - - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> -</div></div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A MERRY SCOUT ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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