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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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