diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-0.txt | 7257 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-0.zip | bin | 125702 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h.zip | bin | 2016274 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/67430-h.htm | 10066 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 301211 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_001.jpg | bin | 174023 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_024.jpg | bin | 234387 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_056.jpg | bin | 207040 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_088.jpg | bin | 217033 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_134.jpg | bin | 166838 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_164.jpg | bin | 159937 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_208.jpg | bin | 185011 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/67430-h/images/ill_316.jpg | bin | 247662 -> 0 bytes |
16 files changed, 17 insertions, 17323 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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..ae2e36b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67430 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67430) diff --git a/old/67430-0.txt b/old/67430-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 59277a2..0000000 --- a/old/67430-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7257 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cricket, by Elizabeth Westyn Timlow - -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: Cricket - -Author: Elizabeth Westyn Timlow - -Illustrator: Harriet R. Richards - -Release Date: February 18, 2022 [eBook #67430] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Richard Tonsing, Louise Davies, 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 CRICKET *** - - - - - - CRICKET - - -[Illustration: HOW CRICKET DELIVERED THE MESSAGE.] - - - - - CRICKET - - - BY - - ELIZABETH WESTYN TIMLOW - - - ILLUSTRATED BY - HARRIET R. RICHARDS - - - BOSTON - ESTES AND LAURIAT - PUBLISHERS - - - - - _Copyright, 1895_, - BY ESTES AND LAURIAT - - - _Typography and Printing by - C. H. Simonds & Co. - Electrotyping by Geo. C. Scott & Sons - Boston, U. S. A._ - - - - - TO - My Little God-Daughter, - HELEN MUNN. - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAPTER PAGE - I. CRICKET 11 - - II. THE QUARREL 22 - - III. DAMMING THE BROOK 34 - - IV. THE CONSEQUENCES 43 - - V. FOURTH OF JULY 50 - - VI. MAKING ICE-CREAM 61 - - VII. MOPSIE 71 - - VIII. WHAT MOPSIE DID 80 - - IX. THE KITTENS 87 - - X. ELSPETH 97 - - XI. IN THE GARRET 104 - - XII. THE TRAMPS 114 - - XIII. MAMIE HECKER 124 - - XIV. LYNCH-LAW 133 - - XV. GOING TO THE CIDER MILL 144 - - XVI. THE RUNAWAY 151 - - XVII. GOING BLACKBERRYING 158 - - XVIII. COMING HOME 172 - - XIX. WHAT ZAIDEE AND HELEN FOUND 183 - - XX. MAMIE’S MESSAGE 195 - - XXI. THE NEW COW 204 - - XXII. MAMIE’S REPENTANCE 215 - - XXIII. WHEN MAMMA WAS A LITTLE GIRL 223 - - XXIV. MAMMA’S BANK 234 - - XXV. GOING BACK TO TOWN 242 - - XXVI. CRICKET’S SHORT MEMORY 254 - - XXVII. CRICKET’S BOOMERANG 267 - - XXVIII. KENNETH’S DAY 284 - - XXIX. A STRAWBERRY HUNT 293 - - XXX. LEFT BEHIND 309 - - - - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. - - - HOW CRICKET DELIVERED THE MESSAGE _Frontispiece_ - - PAGE - HILDA BY THE BROOK 25 - - CELEBRATING THE 4TH OF JULY 57 - - EUNICE AND CRICKET WATCHING THE OTHER CHILDREN 89 - - CRICKET AND EUNICE THREATEN TO PUNISH MAMIE 135 - - CRICKET TRYING TO CATCH THE MINNOWS 165 - - CRICKET FINDS EUNICE UNCONSCIOUS 209 - - CRICKET AND ’MANDA 317 - - - - - CRICKET - - - - - CHAPTER I. - CRICKET. - - -Kayuna was the loveliest home in the world. At least, the Ward children -said so. The family usually went out of the city as soon as the -children’s schools closed, in June, and stayed in the country till quite -the first of October. - -Kayuna was also the name of a brook that danced gayly through the lower -part of the grounds of the summer home, and that was a never-failing -delight to the children. The house itself was wide, old-fashioned and -roomy, with _such_ a splendid great garret as you never saw before, for -rainy days. - -Do you want to know how many Wards there were? Well, let me count. Of -course, first to be mentioned came Doctor papa, and dear, beautiful -mamma, who was never very strong. Then there was Donald, who was -seventeen, and a big fellow, as well, and Marjorie, who was two years -younger, but who already began to give herself grown-up airs. Eunice was -next, nearly twelve. Then came Cricket, the “middleman.” They never knew -whether to take her with the older ones, or leave her at home with the -small fry. Donald would call her “trundlebed trash,” to her great -indignation. Her name was really Jean, but she was such a chirpy, cheery -little soul, that Cricket seemed just to suit her. Below her were the -six-year-old twins; and, lastly, baby Kenneth, everybody’s pet, who was -nearly three. - -Wasn’t that a house full? And such a noise as they were equal to when -they set about it! Mamma often said that it was fortunate that the roof -was high and the walls were strong, else surely the house would have -come down about their ears. - -This year, to the wild delight of the entire family, papa had decided to -go out into the country very early, on mamma’s account, for she needed -the country air. So the middle of April found them comfortably settled -for a long, lovely summer. - -It was so early that papa thought it quite worth while for Eunice and -Cricket, at least, to go to the country school for the rest of the term, -while the older ones had lessons at home with him. - -Cricket, especially, was greatly delighted with this arrangement. Her -little friend, Hilda Mason, of whom she was very fond, of course went to -school, and it was such fun going together. The little girls were -delighted to be with each other, and Hilda always looked forward to the -summer, when Cricket would come out into the country. - -Hilda was a year older than Cricket, for she was eleven in June, and -Cricket was ten in August. By reason of this extra year, she always -thought Cricket should do just as she, Hilda, wanted. - -Hilda was an only child, and lived with her mother and grandmother, who -thought her perfect. Cricket, on the other hand, was very used to giving -up her own way, as children in a large family generally are. Hilda was a -quiet, demure little girl, with polite, grown-up manners. She always -remembered to say “How-do-you do!” and that mamma sent her love, and she -never forgot any errand she was sent on. - -Cricket was a heedless little witch, and rarely, by any chance, -remembered anything she was told to do. Her father always said that any -errand she was given meant two, for she was never known to bring home -both her package and her change at the same time. - -Hilda was pretty, with big brown eyes and long, orderly, golden curls. -She was plump and straight, and rather proper. - -Cricket had short, brown curls, every one of which took a different -kink, and gray-blue eyes that twinkled like merry little stars. She was -thin and tall for her age, and her papa used to tease her by calling her -long legs “knitting-needles,” and offering them to mamma for her fancy -knitting. - -Every morning Hilda called for Cricket on her way to school. If Cricket -had gone off earlier, having been sent on some errand, as often -happened, she left a little red stone on the gate-post, as a sign to her -little friend that she had gone. If Hilda came by early and couldn’t -stop, as seldom happened, she picked up the little red stone from its -hiding-place, and left it for Cricket to see. - -But, usually, Hilda turned in at the gates promptly at twenty minutes of -nine, and walked up the long avenue, around to the side piazza. Then she -would open the door, and call gently up the side staircase, “Ready, -Cricket?” - -A voice from above would answer, promptly, “I’m coming. Have you got -your sums?” and Cricket would come out of her room at the head of the -stairs, giving a last, smoothing touch to her kinky hair. - -Then she would plunge down stairs, usually arriving at the bottom by way -of the bannisters, provided she did not trip at the top and come down -head-foremost. Next would follow a wild search for her hat, until she -remembered she had left it last night in the grape arbour; then her -sacque must be found, and that was probably hanging on some tree,—where -she had taken it off to climb better. Strange to say, her books were -generally at hand, for heedless Cricket loved to study. - -Hilda always carried her school-books in a neat little bag, for she said -that a strap bent the edges of the books. Cricket strapped hers as -tightly as possible, for she liked to swing them by the long end as she -walked along. Besides, they made a splendid thing to throw at a stray -cat,—which she never hit. - -By the time she was fairly ready, Eunice would appear, fresh and sweet -and unhurried. Then Hilda and Eunice would walk quietly down the piazza -steps, while Cricket would say, “Want to see me jump off the piazza as -far as that stone?” Off she would shoot through the air, and, alighting, -would race down the avenue, to wait panting at the gate till Hilda and -Eunice should come up. Then for two minutes, perhaps, they would keep -side by side, while they talked over those dreadful decimals, which they -hated so. - -Hilda and Eunice kept straight along the shady path, but Cricket was -seldom known to walk. She ran, she skipped, she danced, she went -backward, and varied the way still further by betaking herself to the -stone fences, wherever they were smooth enough on top. - -When they arrived at school Hilda was orderly, cool and sweet, and as -trim as if she had just left her mother’s hands; Cricket had riotous -looking clothes, hot, tumbled curls, hat hanging off her head, but was -always dimpling and smiling, and serenely sure that every one would -greet her with a shout. - -Eunice sat with her particular friend, Edith Craig, but Cricket and -Hilda shared the same desk, to the distraction of the long-suffering -teacher. She was always threatening to separate them, but her heart -would melt, at the last minute, at their beseeching looks and penitent -vows to be good and study hard, and never whisper any more. They usually -did have their lessons, as it happened, for they were both bright, and -both fond of study. - -Hilda was not altogether a favourite, for she was apt to be both selfish -and exacting, often a little jealous, and always determined to be first -in everything. She was quick in all her studies but her arithmetic, and -here Cricket excelled, greatly to Hilda’s disgust. Many a time she slyly -rubbed out Cricket’s just completed work, and the surprised child would -presently whisper, “Did you ever! I’ve gone and rubbed out my -to-morrow’s examples by mistake. Did you ever see such a goose?” and by -the time she had done them again, Hilda would have been able to make up -her work. - -Altogether their friendship was just on this basis: Hilda always wanted -her own way, and Cricket was willing she should have it; so they got on -swimmingly. - -Nevertheless, one day they quarrelled. It happened in this wise: - -Playing charades was one of the children’s favourite amusements. At -Kayuna there was a fine, large nursery, opening off the wide hall, which -gave a splendid field for action, and the good-natured nurse was always -ready to help them out with their plans. - -One rainy Saturday the whole troop were indoors, and after luncheon -charades were voted for. There were Eunice and her little friend, Edith -Craig, Hilda, Cricket, the twins, Helen and Zaidee, and Kenneth. - -Kenneth was a star, by the way. He was always willing to be pulled about -like a rag-doll, and really seemed to enjoy it. They would roll him up -for a caterpillar, and stand him up straight for a post, and sprawl him -out for a spider. He would take any position they put him in, as if he -were wax, and would inquire anxiously, after the scene was over, “Did I -do zat all right?” - -On this particular day, for some reason, none of them were quite as -good-natured as usual. Perhaps they had been together rather too long, -for Edith and Hilda had both arrived quite early, and had stayed to -luncheon. Perhaps, also, the unusual confinement in the house made them -all a little irritable. - -The children usually divided themselves into actors and audience, by -turns. Cricket and Hilda had the stage now, with Kenneth as support. -Eunice and Edith, with the twins, therefore, were audience. - -The little actors were searching their brains for a new word to act. -“Penobscot,” and “connundrum,” and “goldsmith,” and “antidote” had -already been used, with dozens of others. - -“I know,” cried Cricket, brightening up. “Let’s take _secure_.” - -“_Secure?_ Well, how shall we do it?” questioned Hilda. - -“Why, sick-cure, of course,” answered Cricket, promptly. “Won’t that do? -In the first scene, Kenneth would be sick—” - -“And I’d be the doctor,” put in Hilda. - -“And I’d be his mother,” went on Cricket. - -“And I’d come and see him and give him some pills—” - -“And in the next scene we’d _cure_ him.” - -“I ’on’t tate any pills,” announced the baby behind them, unexpectedly, -and very decidedly. - -“Oh, yes, you will,” said Hilda, impatiently, “they won’t taste bad—just -little make-believe pills.” - -“I don’t lite ’em,” wailed the baby, rebelling, for the first time, -against his elders. He was tired, poor little fellow, for he had gone -through many experiences that afternoon. He had been wound on to a -lap-board with shawls, to represent an Esquimau baby. He had been placed -on a very insecure table, with newspaper wings tied on his bare -shoulders, to pose as a Cupid. Besides this, he had been Daniel in the -lion’s den, with Zaidee and Helen as lions, growling and spitting so -frightfully around him, and making such an alarming pretence of eating -him up, that he had fled, in sudden dismay, to the audience, to take -refuge behind Cricket, who was always his protection in times of -trouble. - -Now, the suggestion of pills was more than the little fellow could -stand. - -“Just pretend, baby dear,” coaxed Cricket. “See, I’ll sit down here with -this funny old cap on, and this shawl over my shoulders, and I’ll play -I’m your mamma,” dressing herself as she spoke. “And then,” she went on, -“you can lie on my lap, this way, and Hilda will put on Donald’s -overcoat and those big spectacles. Just see how funny she looks! and -she’ll put that fur cap on her head, and she’ll come in and feel your -pulse, and say, ‘Very sick child, marm.’ And then, she will only just -_pretend_ to give you some pills.” - -Kenneth still looked doubtful, but Cricket caught up a shawl and wrapped -it around him, and drew his head down. - -“That’s a good boy. Put your head down on mamma’s arm,” she said, still -coaxingly. - -“I doesn’t ’ant to,” fretted Kenneth, but, nevertheless, he stretched -himself obediently on Cricket’s lap. As his head dropped back, he shut -his eyes very tightly, as he was told, and opened his mouth very wide, -as he always did, in the funniest way, whenever he shut his eyes to -order. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - THE QUARREL. - - -Now, Hilda was a good deal of a tease, in a quiet way. The little fellow -looked so funny as he lay there with closely shut eyes, and wide-open -mouth, that, quick as a flash, came the impulse to throw something in -it. She turned to the washstand close by, where was still standing some -water in which they had just washed their hands. Nurse’s big thimble was -on the washstand also, and Hilda snatched it up, and emptied a -thimbleful of the water right down the poor baby’s throat. - -There was a gurgle, a howl, a choke, and Kenneth lay gasping and -struggling for breath, for the water had gone down his little windpipe. -The audience from the hall, and nurse from an adjoining room, came -rushing in. Poor little Kenneth was purple in the face. Nurse snatched -him up and patted his back, and blew in his mouth, to make him catch his -breath. - -Hilda stood frightened at the mischief she had unthinkingly done. -Cricket turned upon her, in a sudden blind fury of rage, for almost the -first time in her life. - -“You mean, mean, horrid girl! To treat my baby so! I hate you, there! -You’re always doing mean things, and you always take the biggest of -everything, and you’ve made baby cry before.” - -“You _are_ mean,” chimed in Eunice; “I’ve seen you rub out Cricket’s -sums, and I always meant to tell everybody, when I got a good chance.” - -“And I know who ate up all my candy,” added Edith. - -“You tooked my dolly and hided her, and I cried!” put in Zaidee, joining -the attacking force. - -“And I know who’s a sneak, and told on Mabel Wilson, when none of the -other girls would!” cried Eunice. - -“You’re the selfishest, meanest old thing!” it was Cricket’s turn again. -She had gotten hold of Kenneth now, and he was clinging with both arms -around the neck of his favourite sister. - -“To pour that horrid, dirty water down his throat, just to tease him,” -went on Cricket, furiously. “I’ll never forgive you, and I won’t play -with you any more, forever ’n’ ever, ’n’ I wish you’d go home this -moment, Hilda Mason, there!” - -Hilda stared helplessly, as the unexpected words rained around her. -Could they be really talking to _her_? Was it her little Cricket who was -blazing like a little fury, and actually telling her to go home? She was -quite too frightened to speak, at first, as the angry group around her -all talked at once. - -“I didn’t mean,” she faltered, at last; then she, too, burst into angry -tears. “You’re horrid, rude girls to say such things to company,” she -sobbed. “I’m going straight home to tell mamma how you treated me, and -she’ll never let me come here again.” - -“You’d better go right away, Miss Hilda,” said nurse, dryly, and she -brought the little girl’s hat and put on her sacque. Hilda had never -been at all a favourite with her, for she had often seen her slyly tease -the little ones. - -Hilda marched off abused, excited and angry. The idea—the very _idea_ of -such language to her, to Hilda Mason, whom everybody called so good, and -who was used to being held up as the model child of the neighbourhood. - -[Illustration: HILDA BY THE BROOK.] - -And Cricket, her dear Cricket, whom she really loved heartily, had told -her she hated her, and would never forgive her, and wouldn’t ever play -with her any more. - -What had she done to deserve all this? Why, nothing at all; only poured -a little water down the baby’s throat, when he looked so funny, lying -there with his eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth wide open. She didn’t -know it would choke him so; of course she didn’t mean to hurt him. Such -a fuss about nothing. Then, suddenly, they all flew at her, and said -dreadful things, right before nurse. Hilda did not realize that such an -outbreak is seldom as sudden as it seems, and that many grievances will -often smoulder for a long time, till some trifle fires the flame. - -She walked along, miserable enough, half-crying, half-indignant. The -rain had ceased, and the sky had cleared, so she stopped by the brook in -the grassy lane, which the children used as a short cut, and sat down by -the little bridge. She was ashamed to go on into the village street -while she was crying. - -Here she and Cricket had spent many happy hours, and had never, never -quarrelled before. She did not stop to think, then, to whom the credit -of this belonged. Cricket certainly always did as Hilda wished, but she -was sure she was equally ready to do as Cricket wished, wasn’t she? She -began to think. Cricket always liked to keep on through the woods to -Hilda’s house, while she liked to strike off into the village street. -How seldom they went through the woods, although it was nearer, and -Cricket liked it so well! Cricket loved marsh-mallows, while Hilda was -devoted to chocolate-creams; but when they spent their weekly pennies -together for candy, as they always did, how was it they so rarely bought -marsh-mallows? Hilda’s conscience pricked her faintly. - -“Well, I am always willing she should buy them, if she’d just say she -would, any way,” she reflected, uneasily. - -But then, Cricket never did say she “would, anyway.” - -What a delight it was to her little friend to be out in the fields and -woods, searching out the earliest wild-flowers, exploring for the first -chestnuts, perfectly happy if she were simply out-of-doors. She, -herself, preferred quiet, indoor sports and dolls, excepting when the -weather just suited her, and was neither too warm nor too cold. Did they -ever stay out when she did not wish to? - -And she _did_ rub out Cricket’s examples, often and often. - -“Cricket was so quick,” she argued, with her conscience, “and she could -do them right over, and she didn’t like to get behind herself. Cricket -was such a silly, not to guess it.” And why shouldn’t she take the -biggest of anything? One of them had to have it, and she was the oldest. -Still, she remembered, with another faint sting of conscience, she -didn’t like it when Eunice took things for the same reason, and Cricket -had to yield to them both. - -Had Cricket ever been heard telling the twins they must do certain -things because they were younger? - -Hilda began to feel very queerly. She was so used to praise and petting, -that the plain speeches she had heard had almost taken her breath away, -true though they were. Cricket was always being lectured, because she -was careless and disorderly, and heedless and forgetful, and Hilda had -always felt superior. But was she really horrid? was she hateful? was -she selfish? was she a sneak? - -“Mamma doesn’t think so, anyway,” she said, with a little sob. But it -was that very morning, when she asked permission to go and see Cricket, -that her mother had hesitated, and said,— - -“I thought perhaps you would be willing to stay at home this morning, -darling. My head aches badly, and poor, sick grandmamma says she has -scarcely seen her little girl this week.” - -But Hilda looked so abused that her mother hastened to add,— - -“Never mind, dear, go on and have a good time, but I would like you to -come home to lunch;” and the little girl had neglected her mother’s -words, as of no importance. - -It was a very sober, subdued Hilda, who, much later, slipped quietly -into the house. - -Her mother had been in bed all day, with one of her worst headaches, the -maid said, and she herself had been sitting with grandmamma, and reading -to her, for the old lady felt very lonely. Hilda winced as she thought -of that hard, rasping voice reading to an invalid. - -Mrs. Mason heard her little girl’s voice and spoke to her, and Hilda -crept quietly into her mother’s room. She knew, well enough, that her -little soft fingers had magic power to drive away mamma’s nervous -headaches, but usually it was “such a bother” to sit in the darkened -room, that often, as she now guiltily remembered, she had slipped away, -when she knew mamma had a headache, lest she should be asked to do it. -Oh, she was a selfish, selfish Hilda! - -That night, when her head was better, mamma and Hilda had a long talk. -The whole story came out, and Hilda confessed that she believed that she -was the horridest, selfishest girl in the whole town. And her mother’s -tears fell quietly and fast, as she realized, for the first time, how -she had been spoiling her darling. Because her little daughter was -dainty and orderly, and sweet and polite, she had been ruining her with -too much praise, and letting her grow up selfish and inconsiderate. - -“We will both begin again, my little girl,” she said, holding Hilda -close. “And to begin with, do you know you ought to tell Cricket you are -sorry?” - -“Oh, mamma, I can’t—oh, I _can’t_! I shouldn’t know anything what to -say.” - -“It is the only honourable thing to do, darling. You have been much to -blame. I will tell Cricket for you, if you like. She is a dear little -girl, and I’m sure she will forgive you and love you just the same.” -Nevertheless, Hilda could not quite make up her mind, that night, to -take this step. - -The next Monday she started off, very soberly and unhappily, for school. -As she turned into the lane, however, she saw a familiar little red -dress fluttering by the hedge, and in a moment Cricket came in view. -Both little girls stopped and looked at each other shyly for a moment. -Cricket spoke first. - -“Mamma says I was very rude to you,” she began, very soberly, but Hilda -ran up to her, impulsively, and threw both her arms around her neck. - -“_I_ was rude and horrid, Cricket, and I did rub out your sums, and I’ve -teased the children, and I’ve torn up your jography questions often and -often; and I should think you’d hate me.” Hilda said all this in a -breath. - -Cricket looked too astonished to speak. - -“Oh, please, Cricket, forgive me, and love me just the same, and we’ll -always buy marsh-mallows, for I like them pretty well, and it doesn’t -make any difference if I don’t!” finished Hilda, very much mixed up, but -very much in earnest. - -But Cricket, while she did not quite understand all Hilda meant, was, -nevertheless, only too glad to kiss and make friends, and so their -quarrel was made up. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - DAMMING THE BROOK. - - -One bright May morning three little maids sat perched on the topmost -rail of an old fence down by the brook. It was very pleasant just at -that particular spot, where the tiny stream babbled along gayly in its -wide, deep bed. There was only a ribbon of water there now, though early -in the spring the current ran full and strong. The trees in the -neighbouring woods waved and nodded their heads in cordial welcome to -their constant little visitors. - -This was a favourite spot with these little people, for they were well -out of sight of the rest of the world. The lane curved around the hill -which was behind them, wound over the rustic bridge, and lost itself in -the green woods on the other side. Below them were the meadows, where -loads of “roosters”—as country children call the sweet little white -violets—grew in abundance. - -There sat the three little maids, I say, swinging their black-stockinged -legs, and nodding their three heads, black, brown and golden, keeping -time to the clatter of their busy tongues. - -There was so much to talk about, you see, for Hilda’s mamma had promised -her that she might have all her little friends come to supper next week, -to celebrate her eleventh birthday. Of course they had to arrange about -the invitations and the amusements. - -At last Cricket’s active body tired of being still so long, and she -began to look around for exercise, for she had been sitting there for -quite fifteen minutes. She edged along on her somewhat unsteady seat, -when suddenly the treacherous rail turned completely over, and laid her -on her back in the soft meadow grass. Hilda and Eunice shouted with -laughter, for such an accident was so like Cricket; but the little girl, -not in the least troubled, picked herself up. To be sure, there was a -jagged tear in her fresh, blue gingham, and a great grass-stain on it, -as well, but these were every-day affairs. - -She jumped over the fence and sat down on the end of the wooden bridge, -which crossed the road, with her feet hanging over the water, idly -dropping pebbles down. Presently this inspired her with a new idea. - -“Oh, girls!” she exclaimed, “let’s dam up the brook!” - -This proposal immediately met with the greatest favor. Hilda and Eunice -jumped briskly down, and Cricket jumped briskly up. The stone wall along -the road supplied them with material, and they fell energetically to -work. - -Back and forth they went like little beavers, carrying stones instead of -wood. They stood at the end of the bridge, and dropped the stones down, -splash, just in the right place. It was great fun, tugging at the stones -from the wall, finding the loose ones they could take, without leaving -too large a space; or pulling out the wrong one, and bringing half a -dozen more rattling about their feet, so that they had to jump, -screaming, out of the way. Then they must tug and strain to roll them up -the bank to the lane, and then on to the bridge, and over into the -stream. - -Being, as I said, a lonely, out-of-the-way place, it happened that no -one passed to notice the mischief the children were doing. So they -worked away undisturbed. - -They lifted stones that were twice the size of their own heads, quite -scorning the little ones, excepting to fill in with. When they presently -paused to take breath and to survey their work, the stones lay closely -packed together from side to side, and the water was deepening fast. -Panting and quite tired out, they threw themselves on the grassy bank to -rest. - -“I’m glad,” sighed Cricket, “that I’m not a dammer by trade.” - -“If you were,” said Eunice, wisely, “you would be a strong man, and then -it would not be hard work.” - -“What are you going to do, girls, when you’re grown-up?” asked Hilda. - -“I know,” answered Cricket, promptly; “I thought of it last night. I’m -going to write hymns for the missionaries, and p’raps I’ll be a -missionary myself. Anyway, I’d like to go to Africa and have all the -bananas I could eat, for once.” - -“I won’t be a missionary,” returned Hilda, with decision. “I don’t want -to go to Africa. Horrid old skeeters and things, and cannibals to eat -you up.” - -“I’d convert them. That’s what missionaries are for,” answered Cricket, -serenely. - -“But you wouldn’t get a chance,” persisted Hilda. “They’d catch you and -kill you and eat you up just as _quick_. You’d be in somebody’s stomach -before you could say Jack Robinson.” - -“But _hymns_, Cricket,” said Eunice, who had been meditating over the -word, rather overcome by the ambition of her younger sister. “Would you -write hymns like those in the hymnbook?” - -“Yes. Of course they might not be quite so good just at first, but I -could practise. I made up one last night. Do you want to hear it? It’s -rather long.” - -“Yes, indeed,” cried both the others, much impressed. - -And Cricket cleared her throat, and began:—— - - “A big, black cannibal lived by the sea, - And he was black as he could be, - And he ate up children, one, two, three. - - “One day he found a little child, - A little white one, meek and mild, - And the little boy looked up and smiled. - - “‘Oh, don’t you know it’s wrong,’ said he, - ‘To eat a little child like me? - And God won’t love you then, you see. - - “‘And don’t you know if you’re not good, - And don’t do everything you should, - And eat up children in the wood, - - “‘You will not then to Heaven go, - But you will suffer down below, - And wonder why you did do so?’ - - “The cannibal was softened through, - And said to him, ‘Forgive me, do, - And I will go to Heaven with you.’ - - “If little children only knew - All the good that they could do, - They’d be missionaries, too.” - -“Oh, it’s lovely!” exclaimed both little girls, as Cricket finished her -very rapid recitation. - -“Cricket! how could you make that all up?” - -“Some parts of it _were_ hard,” answered Cricket, modestly. “I couldn’t -get the rhymes right at first, and I had to change it some. I wanted to -say—— - - “The cannibal fell on his knees, - And said to him, ‘Forgive me, please,’ - -but I couldn’t think of another rhyme to match it.” - -“Well, it’s beautiful,” said Eunice, drawing a long breath of -admiration. - -“Aren’t you rested now?” asked Cricket, jumping up. “Let’s dump some -more stones over. Oh—oh! look at the brook!” - -They had been resting for half an hour, under a tree, with their backs -to the brook. Now, as they approached it, they were amazed to see how -much their work had deepened the water. Instead of a narrow trickle that -they could easily jump over, it had widened to a deep pool just above -the stones. - -“Oh-h!” squealed the children, in delight. Cricket plunged forward to -plug up a tiny little hole in their dam. Of course she stopped on an -insecure stone, and of course, in attempting to get her balance, she -stumbled forward, and stepped into the water up to her knees. - -“There; I knew Cricket would do that,” said Hilda, calmly. - -Cricket scrambled out. - -“My feet are wet,” she remarked, with much surprise. Both the other -girls shouted with laughter. - -“Did you think the water wasn’t wet?” asked Hilda. - -Going home for dry stockings and shoes never occurred to Cricket. It -would have been altogether too much trouble. She pulled off her soaked -shoes and stockings, and spread them on a sunny stone to dry, and danced -around in her little bare feet. - -But the stones hurt her tender skin, and the hot sand blistered it. So -she sat down on the bank, further up, and dabbled her feet in the clear, -running water. The others immediately desired to follow suit, when -Cricket “set the Psalm,” as their old nurse used to say, and in a few -minutes six little bare feet were paddling about. - -“It’s very strange,” said Cricket, at last, after a brief fit of -silence, “that Eunice never falls in the water, nor tears her clothes, -nor anything. I b’lieve my mother’d just think herself in luck if she -had two like you, ’stead of me. I’m the most misfortunate girl always.” - -Eunice was a careful little girl, and not nearly so much of a romp as -Cricket was. She seldom did have the accidents that so constantly befel -her heedless little sister. - -“You do so many more things than I do,” Eunice hastened to explain. “You -do things that I’m afraid to do.” - -“I’m afraid this minute,” remarked Hilda. - -“Afraid! why, what of?” exclaimed both the others, in chorus. - -“’Fraid we’ve got to go home. It’s twelve o’clock, for there’s the -whistle.” - -“Oh, is that all! I thought you must have seen a snake, at least,” -laughed Cricket, drawing on her damp stockings and stiff shoes. “Ugh! -these stockings feel just like frogs.” - -“We must come back to-morrow,” said Hilda, as they trudged off, “and see -how deep this water is, and we will get some boards and make a raft, and -have piles of fun.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - THE CONSEQUENCES. - - -But both Monday and Tuesday were unfavourable for nautical adventures, -for they brought a driving, pouring rain. Wednesday was too damp for -them to go to the meadows at all, and on Thursday came the famous -birthday party. So it happened that their dam was forgotten till -Saturday, when they turned their steps brookward. - -“Oh, _look_ at the water!” they cried, in one breath, as they came -around the curve. They could hardly believe their eyes, for a wide, deep -stream filled the bed from side to side. The combination of the heavy -rains with their dam had worked wonders. - -“See the water roll over the dam, girls! it’s just like the mill-dam,” -exclaimed Cricket. “Let’s roll more stones down and make a bigger one -still.” - -So, with eager hands, they got great stones again, lugging them from -their places in the stone wall with infinite toil. They balanced them on -the edge of the bridge, and counting, “One,—two,—three,—go!” They each -pushed over one, jumping and screaming with delight, at the tremendous -splashes, as the water flew up, spattering them well. - -“Ow—ow! there goes my hat!” It was Cricket’s wail of anguish, of course. -Her next-to-her-best white Leghorn, it was too, for her every-day hat -had come to grief through Dixie’s chewing off her ribbons, and was laid -up for repairs. There lay the pretty broad-brim, caught right on one of -those big stones, with the water lapping all around it. Vainly they ran -down to the side of the bridge and tried to reach it. It was too near -the middle. The water was already so deep and black that they hesitated -to wade in for it. - -“Perhaps we can get a stick and reach it,” suggested Hilda. They -accordingly broke long sticks from the bushes near by, and then Cricket -lay flat down on the bridge, with her head and arms hanging over, and -tried to reach the unfortunate hat. - -“I can’t quite do it,” she panted. “You hold on to my legs, Eunice, -while I lean over a little further, and, Hilda, you catch it with your -stick at the side, when I poke it over there.” - -So Eunice clung to Cricket’s legs with all her might, while Cricket, -fully half over the bridge, made desperate lunges; at last she was -successful. - -“There it goes! now, catch it, Hilda!” triumphant and breathless. - -Just at this critical moment there rose suddenly a tremendous shout from -the woods. - -“Hi! hi! I’ve caught ye, ye young rogues! I’ll teach ye a lesson, -a-dammin’ up my brooks and a-swampin’ my medders, and a-drownin’ my -caows! I’ll hev the law on ye!” - -Fright and terror! What awful words were these? Cricket hung, paralyzed, -over the bridge, and Eunice clung to her black-stockinged legs, with -fingers that made black and blue spots in the tender flesh. Hilda, -poised on two uncertain stones, stood like a small Colossus, and all of -them were white with terror, for an awful, great, big, blue-bloused man -was getting over the fence, with, oh, horror, a gun on his shoulder, and -a slovenly bull-dog tagging at his heels! - -“I’ve been a-watchin’ for ye, since a long time back,” the man said, -leisurely coming nearer, seeing that the children were too frightened to -run away. “I’m not a-goin’ to eat yer, but I want to know what in -thunder you’re allers up to mischief for. Yer’s the doctor’s gal,” he -went on, addressing Cricket, “and yer a limb.” - -Cricket drew herself up on to the bridge. They recognized the man now as -a farmer in the neighbourhood, a gruff old fellow, whom all the children -feared. They quaked still more with fright. - -“Now I’ll tell yer, young uns, I could hev the law on ye all for this -flew-doodle-um of yourn, and I ain’t sure,—I—ain’t—_sure_, I ain’t -a-goin’ ter. Now, what hev ye got to say fer yourselves why I -shouldn’t?” - -“We didn’t know we were doing any mischief,” faltered Cricket, really -conscience-smitten, as well as frightened. - -“Mischief!” growled the farmer, “when ain’t ye young ’uns in mischief? -I’m goin’ to hev ye all in the lock-up.” - -“Oh, please, please, Mr. Trante,” cried Cricket, in mortal terror. “If -we’ve done any mischief, please ask my father to pay you for it, but oh, -_don’t_ put us in the lock-up!” - -“Wal, I dunno but I re’lly orter,” said Mr. Trante, enjoying their -terror. - -“See all the damage ye’ve done. Las’ Sunday I was a-strollin’ round my -medder, up yander”—pointing up beyond where the white violets grew—“an’ -I see it was all soft an sorter soggy, by the bank, and the brook was a -considderbal wider. I kinder wondered at that, seein’ as we hadn’t hed -no rain for quite a spell then. Ev’ry night this week the caows kep’ -a-comin’ home all wet to their knees, an’ las’ night the boy brung ’em -in, and says he, ‘the medder’s all a-swimming, and the caows has stayed -up into the woods all day.’ It didn’t seem nateral that the rain could -ha’ did all thet, so this mornin’ I sot out to explore, an’ I found this -big dam o’ yourn. I hed a big mornin’s work, so I hed to leave it till -this afternoon. I re’lly orter make ye take ’em out yerselves.” - -“I don’t believe we could,” answered Cricket, doubtfully. Then she -brightened up. - -“But I’ll ask papa to send Thomas to-morrow morning to help you. I’m so -sorry about the cows, Mr. Trante, and getting the meadow so wet. We -never thought. Will it ever dry up again?” she asked, anxiously. - -“Wall, I guess the medder’ll dry up, if you give it a chance,” the -farmer answered, grimly. “How did you young rogues roll up all them big -stones, tearin’ down my stone walls? Look at them big holes!” - -Three shamefaced children looked more downcast than ever at this new -view of their mischief. - -“I’ll ask papa to pay you for all the trouble we’ve made,” repeated -Cricket. - -“Wal, I dunno how I could put a money vally on it, skursely,” growled -the man, “but I’ll see your pa. An’ about the lock-up. Ef you’ll promise -me not to go a-dammin’ up no more streams, not even little dribblin’ -things like that ’un there was, mebbe I’ll let ye off this time.” - -“Oh, we promise!” cried the three, fervently, while their hearts danced -jigs of joy at their escape. - -“An’ tell yer pa to send Thomas over in the morning at seven o’clock -sharp, an’ I an’ he’ll work at them stuns a spell. Looks like it would -be considerable of a chore to hist ’em out,” said Mr. Trante, looking at -the stones, through one eye. - -“Come, Bruiser,” he went on, “you an’ me’s a-goin fur the caows now. Ye -kin go home, young ’uns, and don’t do no more damage than ye kin help -a-doin’, while ye’re going thar;” and three very subdued-looking -children immediately took advantage of his permission to disappear -around the curve. - -The next day Thomas told Dr. Ward that he had had the hardest half-day’s -work he had done in one while. - -“Them crazy young ’uns will be the death o’ me,” he grumbled. “Me an’ -Dan’el Trante worked up’ards of half a day to ease them stuns up. An’ -the next time they go to dammin’ up creeks, I ’low they better do -suthin’ else with the time.” - -And the children concluded they would. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - FOURTH OF JULY. - - -Of course, with such a troop of children as there was at Kayuna, Fourth -of July was a wildly exciting time. They were always up at unearthly -hours in the morning, and used up, before breakfast, an immense supply -of giant torpedoes and fire-crackers, by way of opening the day. Later, -they were allowed free range of the back-kitchen, in order that they -might carry out, all by themselves, the grand performance of the day. -This was making and freezing a great can of ice-cream, with no -interference, even to the extent of a suggestion, from the cook. This -was always eaten by the assembled family, on the piazza, at five in the -afternoon. - -In the evening all the people in the neighbourhood gathered on the -piazza and lawn, to see the display of a great quantity of fireworks, -which Dr. Ward always had sent out from town. So they wound up the -Glorious Fourth in a very patriotic manner. - -It was really very good-natured of Dr. Ward to allow the display on his -grounds, for it always took Thomas and one of the other men all the next -day to take away the débris, clear up the lawn, and restore things to -their usual trim order. - -This particular Fourth really began the night before. - -Hilda Mason had been invited to come and spend the night with Cricket -and Eunice, in order to be on hand in the morning. It was barely dark -when the three children decided it was quite time to go to bed, in order -to shorten the long hours that stretched before to-morrow morning. Nurse -had put up a cot in Cricket’s room for Hilda, close beside the larger -bed, so it was quite like sleeping all together. - -They were far too much excited to settle down very soon, especially as -it was earlier than their usual bedtime, so they frolicked and built -tents of the sheets, and ended up with a game of tag around the -foot-board. But this speedily brought Eliza to the scene, with a very -peremptory order “to go to sleep, and not disturb everybody in the house -with their jim-jams.” - -Thus commanded, and being tired by this time, they were quite ready to -subside, and very soon, after numberless “good-nights” and “don’t you -wish it was to-morrows,” they settled down. - -Cricket woke first. The room was already beginning to grow light. - -“Oh, girls, girls!” she cried, scrambling out of bed. “We’ve overslept, -I know. There’s the sun rising now.” There certainly was light behind -the trees, as she looked from the east windows. - -“Funny we don’t hear the boys,” said Eunice, sitting up and trying to -rub the sleep out of her eyes. “I’m awful sleepy—seems as if we’d just -gone to bed.” - -“I should say it did. How quiet everything seems. Hilda, wake up! it’s -morning.” - -“I don’t care,” returned Hilda, sleepily, turning over. - -“But it’s Fourth of July! Do get up! We want to get ahead of the boys.” -For two boy cousins, Will and Archie Somers, were visiting them. - -“Oh, dear!” yawned Hilda, who was always a sleepy head. “I think I’d -rather not have any Fourth of July.” - -“But the Fourth’s here, and we’ve got to have it!” said Cricket, pulling -the sheet from under Hilda. “Get up, you lazy girl. I’m all dressed.” -For Cricket dressed as she did everything else, “like a streak of -greased lightning,” as Donald said. - -“Oh, I’m getting up!” and Hilda turned out reluctantly. - -“I’m going to the boys’ door, while you’re finishing,” said Cricket. -“I’ll be back in a minute.” She slipped out into the hall, as still as a -mouse. It was very dark out there, and she had to feel her way along. - -Suddenly, ahead of her, came a glimmer of light, and a tall, white -figure appeared, that startled Cricket so that she turned, with a -scream, to run back. It was only Eliza, who, aroused by the children’s -voices, was coming from the nursery to see what was the matter, but -Cricket was blinded by the sudden light, so that she did not recognize -her. She lost her bearings, turned to the left instead of the right, and -the next moment she was plunging head-foremost down the stairs, with a -crash that in two minutes assembled a white-clad household. - -“What is the matter?” asked everybody, hurriedly, of everybody else. - -Doctor Ward sprang down the staircase to investigate. At the bottom lay -a little heap. - -“Cricket!” he exclaimed, with his heart in his mouth. - -“I guess I’m all right, papa,” came a scared little voice from the heap, -“but I don’t know, ’xactly, where I am.” - -Her father lifted her up, and felt of her arms and legs. - -“No bones broken. Is your back all right? and your head? In the name of -common-sense, child, what are you doing around the house, all dressed, -at midnight?” - -“Why, it’s morning,” said Eunice and Hilda together, who, with the -others, had gathered at the foot of the stairs, everybody asking -questions and talking at once. - -“It’s morning, and it’s the Fourth of July,” explained Eunice, “and we -got up, and Cricket was going to wake the boys, and get a rise out of -them. Is Cricket hurt?” - -The doctor was still feeling Cricket’s back, and her mamma was rubbing -her hands anxiously, but they all laughed at Eunice’s explanation. - -“Morning, dear child? It’s just ten minutes of twelve,” she answered, -looking at the tall hall clock. “Just midnight.” - -“Midnight!” cried all the three girls, incredulously. “We saw the sun -rising, anyway,” said Hilda, bewildered. - -“The moon, you mean,” said the doctor, laughing. - -“You’re sure you’re not hurt, darling?” he added. “Well, since Cricket -is not killed, it proves to be a good joke.” - -“She must be hurt somewhere,” persisted mamma, still anxiously. “How -could a child go head-foremost down stairs and not be hurt?” - -“Nobody could but Cricket,” said her father, kissing her; “but I am -coming to the conclusion that this young woman is not built of ordinary -human material, but on the principle of indestructible dolls. She always -comes right side up with care.” - -“I thought I was killed just at first,” said Cricket, sitting up -straight on her father’s knee, and still looking bewildered, “for the -house seemed just to open and let me down, and the first thing I knew, -papa was calling ‘Cricket.’” - -“But now,” said mamma, “since nobody is seriously injured, you children -may go back to bed and sleep quietly—if you can—the rest of the night. -And remember that you must not one of you get up in the morning till you -are called. That’s the only safe way. Eliza will call you at five -o’clock, and you must not stir till then.” - -In view of the circumstances, the children were quite willing to promise -this, and soon quiet reigned again. - -It was broad daylight in good earnest when the children opened their -eyes next, in response to Eliza’s call. Their night’s experience seemed -very far away in the light of day. The boys were already up and out, and -were firing torpedoes at the girls’ windows. Cricket felt a little stiff -and lame at first, but that soon wore off. She really did seem to be of -some material unlike other children, for her constant accidents rarely -disabled her, and she seldom had even a bad scar. When she nearly cut -her finger off in the hay-cutter once, so that it hung by a thread of -skin, she clapped it on and ran to her father, and it grew together like -two pieces of melted wax. Deep cuts healed as if made in soft pitch. She -had fallen from innumerable trees, and would come crashing through the -branches, and land on the ground, stunned for a moment, perhaps, but -with no further injuries. She was very slightly built, without an ounce -of superfluous flesh on her slender bones, and she was very agile and -flexible. She used to amuse her sisters by sitting on the ground and -twisting both legs around her neck, like a clown in the circus. When she -fell, she fell as a baby does, without making the slightest effort to -save herself, and probably this was the reason why she escaped serious -injury. - -[Illustration: CELEBRATING THE FOURTH OF JULY.] - -When the girls appeared, the boys were ready with a fire of jokes -concerning the midnight adventures. Archie suggested that it would be a -good plan to pin a big label to the moon, so they need not mistake it -again for the sun. Will chanted,— - - “The Man in the Moon - Came up too soon, - And waked the girls too early. - Cricket ran into the hall - And got a great fall, - And made a great hurly-burly.” - -Fortunately, Cricket did not mind teasing, else her life would have been -a burden. - -By breakfast they had fired off dozens of packages of giant torpedoes -and an unlimited number of fire-crackers, and went trooping into the -house, feeling, they said, as if they had been up for at least six -weeks. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - MAKING ICE-CREAM. - - -After breakfast there came a little lull in the excitement. The edge had -been taken off of the enjoyment of torpedoes, by this time, and the -delights of fire-crackers palled. - -To be sure, little Kenneth was still all agog. In his small brain this -day was hopelessly confused with April-Fool’s-Day, which was the latest -special occasion in his narrow experience. He ran around from one to -another, crying excitedly, “Look a-hind you!” and then shrieked in great -glee, “Apple-fool!” enjoying to the full the unfailing surprise of each -person, however often he tried it. - -By ten o’clock, however, came the great excitement of the day, making -ice-cream in the back-kitchen. Will and Archie, and even -seventeen-year-old Donald, pounded the ice which Thomas had already put -there, in a big tub, while Marjorie measured the cream and milk and put -in the sugar. - -It seemed to be part of the programme regularly to forget the flavouring -till the cream was in the can and the dasher adjusted. Then, at the last -moment, it would suddenly be remembered, and off must come the cover, to -the boys’ disgust, with imminent danger of a deposit of salt within, -while the flavouring was added. Then they would find that they could not -put back the dasher in its place without taking out the can. So out -would come the can, and the cream must be poured out, the dasher slipped -in place, all the ice and salt taken out of the freezer, in order to put -the can back, and the whole thing repacked. All this served to “vary the -monotony,” Donald remarked. - -To-day, however, Marjorie, who was chief-cook, had the flavouring in her -mind from the beginning, and she gave the cream a liberal supply of -lemon extract. - -“Will you stir this for a moment, please, Eunice,” she said, as Eunice -came into the pantry just then, where Marjorie stood. “I want to speak -to cook.” - -Eunice gave it a stir, as Marjorie went out, and then bethought herself -of the flavouring. - -“We won’t forget it this time,” she thought. “I know Marjorie has not -remembered it. She never does.” She surveyed the extract-bottles for a -moment. - -“I believe bitter-almond ice-cream would be nice,” she thought. “I’ve -never tasted any, but it makes a nice flavour for frosting and cake. I -wonder how much it takes? I guess half a bottle, certainly, for all this -cream,” and in went the bitter-almond, for Eunice had not the vaguest -idea of the necessary quantity. - -“Oh, Marjorie,” she called, “I’ve just put in—” - -“Do come here, Eunice, I don’t think the boys have chopped this ice fine -enough, and they say it will do,” interrupted Marjorie. “Cricket, you go -and stir the cream.” - -Eunice ran out, thinking to herself,— - -“I won’t tell her, after all, and she’ll think she’s forgotten it, as -usual.” - -Cricket took her turn at the spoon. - -“There,” she thought, “the girls never said a word about the flavouring, -and I just s’pose they’ve gone and forgotten it, as usual. I’ll put it -in myself, and just as they think they’ve got to take the can out, I’ll -tell them. Let me see. We always have lemon or vanilla. Essence of -wintergreen. Wintergreen candy is lovely. I’ll just put in some -wintergreen,” and she took the bottle hastily, after turning for a -spoon. - -“Oh! oh! it’s peppermint I’ve got,” she exclaimed, in dismay, as the -first spoonful went into the mixture. “Bah! I don’t like peppermint, -I’ll just put in an extra amount of wintergreen to cover it up. Cook -says she often mixes flavours.” And in went plenty of wintergreen. By -this time the whole pantry had a strong odour of essences, principally -peppermint. - -“What a strong smell!” said Marjorie, coming back. “What’s the -peppermint bottle doing down here with the cork out?” But Cricket -vanished, and Marjorie, concluding that the cook had come in and used -it, corked it up, and put it back. - -“How horribly strong that peppermint is,” she said, as she stirred her -cream. “That bottle, just open for a moment, has scented everything, or -perhaps some of it was spilled.” - -Archie appeared now to carry out the cream to pour in the can. - -“Whew! peppermint!” he whistled. - -“Yes; cook has been using some here, and left the bottle uncorked. -Awful, isn’t it?” - -“Thing flavoured this time?” - -“Yes, Master Archie, it is. I flavoured it myself, and it’s all right.” - -“Good girl. I shall be glad to have some properly flavoured cream of our -manufacture for once. Last year, seems to me, we didn’t get any in.” - -The freezing of the cream went rapidly forward now. The three girls made -no remarks about the flavouring, each thinking to surprise the others by -the fact the flavouring had not been forgotten, after all. - -Taking the can out, when the cream was frozen, removing the dasher, and -the accompanying tastings, were all important features of the operation. -To-day, however, as the critical moment drew near, mamma came out, and -said there were two wandering minstrels in Highland dress and with -Scottish bag-pipes, in front of the house. Of course they all wanted to -go and see them, so they gave the cream into cook’s charge and all -rushed off. When they returned half an hour later, they found, much to -their disappointment, that the ice-cream was all frozen and packed in -the moulds, to stand till the afternoon. - -Making ice-cream had been such a long process that, by the time -everything was put away, a point mamma always insisted on, it was time -to dress for dinner. - -The afternoon was rather uninteresting. Some one says that very early -risers are apt to be conceited all the morning and stupid all the -afternoon, and so the children found it. Year after year they had the -same experience, but the twelve months between destroyed the -recollection of everything but the excitement of early morning. - -By half-past four, however, they began to brighten up again, for -ice-cream time approached. - -This was the children’s day, and the rule was for them to wait on -themselves, so for some time they were busy bringing out plates and -spoons and doylies, and arranging cakes and crackers on the table on the -piazza, where the feast was always served. Cook took the ice-cream out -of the moulds for them, and put it on the ice-cream platter, and when -the grown-up people were all assembled and the party was ready, Maggie, -smiling broadly, appeared with it. The children all sat around with eyes -expectant and mouths watering, for this was their especial and -particular feast, and entirely unlike the ice-cream that was served -every Sunday for dessert. - -The cream had certainly been beautifully frozen, and looked very -tempting on this hot afternoon. Marjorie officiated at the platter, and -distributed the dainty with a liberal hand. - -Mamma tasted her dish, and set it down suddenly. Auntie, after one -trial, laid down her spoon, and coughed behind her hand as she caught -mamma’s eye. Two or three other guests present toyed with their spoons. - -“This is for you, papa,” Marjorie said then, “and it’s a particularly -big dish, because you are so fond of it. There! isn’t that nice?” - -“What under the canopy!” hastily exclaimed the doctor, eyeing his dish -in great surprise, after his first mouthful. - -“What is it? isn’t it good?” inquired Cricket, anxiously, with a sudden -pang, as she remembered the peppermint. - -“Good? it’s—it’s delicious. Only, why didn’t you flavour it?” - -“Flavour it?” cried Marjorie and Eunice and Cricket, in a breath, “I -did!” Then each looked at the other. - -“I put plenty of lemon in,” said Marjorie. - -“I thought bitter-almond might be good,” began Eunice, looking -bewildered. - -“I thought Marjorie had forgotten,” broke in Cricket, rapidly, “so I -thought I’d s’prise her, and I meant to put in some wintergreen, ’cause -wintergreen candy is very good, ’n’ I got in the peppermint, by mistake, -so I put in plenty of wintergreen afterwards, to cover it up.” She -confessed this all in a breath, looking very unhappy. - -There was a shout. - -“There’s no doubt, then, it is thoroughly flavoured; it must have been -my taste,” said the doctor, dryly. “I’m almost sorry I have been told, -for there is such a charm about the unknown. Do you remember what cook -said about her pumpkin pie, when your mother asked her receipt? ‘Shure, -there’s milk, an’ there’s eggs an’ there’s some punkin, but after all, -it’s principally ingrejiencies.’ Your ice-cream is really delicious, but -if I were asked my candid opinion I should say it was principally -ingrejiences.” - -“May Zaidee and I have it all, then, mamma,” asked Helen, eagerly, “if -no one else wants it?” The twins had been eating up mamma’s and auntie’s -cream with great relish. “We think it’s good.” - -“Let them have all they want,” the doctor answered, laughing. “I’m sure -the amount of peppermint and wintergreen will counteract any possible -ill effect of so much cold.” - -The older children were much disappointed, but bore it very well. The -combination of lemon extract and bitter-almond might have been endured, -but Cricket’s generous addition was altogether too much. - -Archie and Will put their heads together for a few minutes, and then -Archie mounted a hassock and asked for attention. - -“Now, mamma,” interrupted Eunice, “I know he is going to say something -horrid. Make him stop.” - -“It isn’t horrid, ma’am, it’s poetic genius, that’s all.” - - “Who flavoured up our nice ice-cream, - With lemon-essence by the ream? - Marjorie.” - -“There! I knew he would,” said Eunice, resignedly. - -Will took up the strain: - - “And who next bitter almonds sought, - And poured in extract by the quart? - Eunice.” - -“Be still, you wretch!” cried Eunice, attacking him in the rear with a -cushion. - -“Come on, if you want to fight,” said Will. “It’s Archie’s turn, now.” - - “Who added essence without stint, - The wintergreen and peppermint? - Our Cricket, oh!” - -And both boys gave vent to a prolonged howl of anguish. - -“Oh, do go on!” cried Cricket, clapping her hands. “It’s splendid.” - -Both boys continued in concert: - - “Who feasted on this luscious mess, - And groans each struggled to suppress? - All of us!” - -Fortunately just here the supper-bell rang, and they all trooped in. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - MOPSIE. - - -It was on the very next day that Mopsie saved Eunice’s life. Why, I -haven’t said a word yet about Mopsie, have I? and the dear little fellow -ought to have a whole chapter all to himself. - -The pets at Kayuna were quite as important, in the children’s eyes, at -least, as they were themselves, and equalled them in number. There was -Donald’s great St. Bernard, stately and dignified, Kaiser William by -name. He was a splendid fellow, but would follow no one but his master. -The pigeons, lovely, soft, fluttering things, belonged to Marjorie, who -fed them faithfully. They would come at her call in troops and light on -her shoulders, and peck at bits of bread which she held between her -teeth. - -Eunice’s pet was a beauty, for it was a snow-white pony, which her -godmother had given her the summer before. It carried her in the saddle -beautifully, or was harnessed to the little light cart which held two. -Fine times the children had with Charcoal, named so, on Donald’s advice, -because it wasn’t black. - -The twins owned between them the cunningest and brightest little Scotch -terrier, named Duster, from his feathery tail, which, of course, he -always carried straight up in the air. Another dog, named Dixie, of no -particular breed, but of very social nature, belonged to the family in -general, though Cricket laid claim to him, until she had Mopsie. - -And who was Mopsie? It is rather a humiliating fact, but I may as well -confess it at once—Mopsie was, or had been, nothing but a poor little -circus pony. - -Cricket, at first, was rather ashamed of Mopsie’s past history, -considering that Eunice had her beautiful Charcoal, who had been born -and brought up in a gentleman’s stable. The boys teased her about her -“aristocratic pony,” till she would say, rather indignantly, “I don’t -care. It doesn’t matter a bit what a person does, if he does it just the -best he can, mamma says so. And it’s just the same with a pony. I _know_ -my Mopsie was the nicest horse in the circus, for the men said so. -There!” - -But after this particular day no one ever teased her again. - -If Mopsie could have spoken, he could have told them many stories of his -circus life. He was, certainly, a very bright, sweet-tempered little -creature, and knew no end of tricks, more indeed, than the children ever -suspected, for there was no one to tell him to do them, or who knew what -he could do. He could sit up like a dog, and hop around on his hind -legs, keeping time to music,—this had been called dancing on the -programme,—and jump through hoops, and many other things. - -For a long time the children wondered why, as soon as the cart, to which -he was harnessed, stopped, he would try to turn himself around beside -the wheels. But this was a trick he had been taught. The clown in the -circus would drive him round and round the ring, and as soon as he -stopped, it was pony’s business to turn himself directly around, for the -front wheels were low enough to slip under the cart. Then the clown -would pretend he couldn’t find him, because the pony was no longer in -front, and he would pretend to look down in the sawdust for him, and in -his pocket, saying, “Now, where _is_ Alexander the Great gone?” for that -was pony’s name before he was Mopsie. - -Another thing he had been trained to do was to pick up and carry really -heavy things in his teeth, and run away with them, while the clown ran -after him, shouting “Stop!” but the little fellow knew he must not stop -till he heard his name as well. - -All these, and many more tricks Mopsie had been in the habit of doing -before great crowds every afternoon and evening. - -At last came one afternoon that Mopsie little thought was to be his last -in the circus. The circus had come to Wellsboro’, and Mike, Doctor -Ward’s groom, had gone to see it. He was so fond of horses that he was -always hanging around the tents where they were kept, and making friends -with the hostlers. - -Suddenly a great commotion arose. One of the big horses, which was -always ugly, got perfectly wild, from the bites of horse-flies, it was -afterward thought, and began kicking furiously right and left, plunging -and rearing till the frightened men could not hold him. Poor little -Alexander the Great was being groomed and harnessed for the ring; as the -maddened horse broke loose, pony and groom were kicked by those great, -heavy hoofs, till the life was almost crushed out of both of them. - -In the confusion, after the horse was secured, nobody noticed poor -little Alexander, who lay moaning and quivering in agony. The man beside -him was lifted and taken away, and then somebody bent over the pony. - -“He’s done for, poor little fellow,” the man said, pityingly. “I’ll put -him out of his misery,” and he drew a pistol. - -Then Mike came forward. “Don’t shoot him yit. Lemme look at the loikes -of ’im.” - -Mike was a born horse-doctor, and to his practised eye the pony was not -so seriously hurt but that there was hope of saving him. - -“Will you let me have him?” he asked, after feeling the pony all over -very carefully. “He’ll take a sight o’ doctorin’, ’n’ he won’t be no -good in a cirkis agin.” - -“Take him, and welcome,” the manager said, hastily. “We’ve no time for -sick horses,” and he swore again at the horse who had done all the -mischief. - -So Mike got an old door, and one of the men helped him lift poor little -suffering Alexander on it. Then he hired a cart somewhere, and so the -pony came to Kayuna. - -This had been about the first of May. The children were not allowed to -see the new arrival for a week or two, for he was not a very pleasant -object. His legs were bound up, and his poor sides were all covered with -“splarsters,” as Zaidee announced once, in great excitement, when she -had taken a stolen peep. - -At last the little visitor was in a condition to be seen, for, thanks to -Mike’s good care, he mended fast. The “splarsters” were taken off, -though his legs were still in splints, and Mike groomed his shaggy, -uneven coat as best he could. - -Cricket and Eunice saw him first, and were perfectly delighted with him. -He was even smaller than their dear Charcoal. After that they were his -constant visitors, feeding him with apples and sugar, and petting him -till poor little Alexander must have wondered if he had died and gone to -the horse-heaven. - -Then came the exciting day when the last splinter and bandage were -removed, and pony, a little weak and uncertain as to his hoofs, but very -frisky as to his head, was brought out into the yard. - -Mike, meantime, had had a private interview with papa, and following -that, one with Cricket. - -The result was, that a very happy little girl raced down to the barn, -with Eunice and Dixie close behind. - -“Oh, you dear, darling old Mopsie,” Cricket cried out, flinging her arms -about his rough little head. “You’re my ownty-donty pony. Eunice has -Charcoal, and now I have you,” and she hugged him again and again. - -When she released him, what did that cunning pony do but offer her his -front hoof to shake! - -“Oh, you dear, dear, thing!” she shrieked. “Mike! Mike! see that! he -wants to shake hands,” for the pony sociably offered his other hoof. - -“Yis, miss,” said proud Mike, grinning from ear to ear. “He’s been a -cirkis-pony, and knows a deal o’ tricks, I dessay.” - -Eunice dived into the stables, and in a moment reappeared, leading her -little snowy Charcoal. The two ponies were a decided contrast—the one so -clean, and well-groomed and white, and the other, rough and black, with -shaggy, uneven coat. - -“Yours is awfully cute,” said Eunice, with an arm over her pony’s neck, -“but he can’t compare with my Charcoal. He’s nothing but a circus-pony, -after all.” - -That was not like Eunice, and she did not mean to hurt Cricket’s -feelings. It was only that her own pony looked so fresh and dear to her. -But Cricket fired up at once. - -“You’re my own Mopsie,” she cried, hugging her black pony again, “and no -other pony could be half so cunning and smart. Charcoal isn’t a bit -smart, Eunice, you know he isn’t.” - -A quarrel seemed close at hand, right over those dear ponies, which -stood rubbing noses in the friendliest way. But Eunice was too generous -to hurt Cricket’s feelings knowingly, and she said, quickly, - -“Mopsie does look awfully bright, Cricket, and I think that’s a good -name for him. I wonder what his name really was?” - -But Mike did not know, so Mopsie was christened thus on the spot, and -Mopsie he remained to the end of the chapter. - -“When can I ride him, do you think, Mike?” asked Cricket, eagerly, as -she fed him sugar. - -“Shure, Miss Scricket, an’ I’m thinkin’ it’ll be next week ye’ll be -afther ridin’ him, if he kapes on a’mendin’.” - -After this, Cricket hated any mention of the fact that Mopsie was, or -had been, a circus-pony, though she stoutly insisted that it “didn’t -make a bit of difference, so long as he circused as well as he could.” - -Mike took the best of care of him, and a month made a wonderful -difference with the little fellow. Constant and careful grooming made -his rough hair smoother, and with the vaseline and other things that -Mike knew of, his uneven coat began to lose the marks of scars and -“splarsters.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - WHAT MOPSIE DID. - - -It was a proud day for Cricket when the saddle was first put on the back -of her very own pony, and Mike mounted her. Not that she needed to be -mounted, as a rule, for she was quite equal to grasping the shaggy mane, -and scrambling up into the saddle herself, but this was such an -important occasion that ordinary methods would not do. - -Mike was quite as proud as Cricket was, of the black pony. To think that -but for his kindness and devoted care poor little Mopsie’s bones would -now be whitening in some field! And not only that, but to think his -favourite Miss “Scricket” now had a pony of her own, all owing to him. -He had polished up Mopsie to the last degree, and now that the pony had -its pretty little saddle on, just like Charcoal’s, the two did not make -a bad pair. - -All the younger fry gathered to watch this first mounting. Dr. Ward was -there, also, for he did not know whether Mopsie had ever carried a -little girl before, and he wanted to make sure that everything was -right. The children cantered up and down the avenue to the gates and -back, and even Charcoal seemed to think that two ponies were much more -fun than one. Mopsie was a bit stiff at first, but he soon grew more -limber, and at last papa said that they might ride down the road, -outside the gates. - -“Hurrah! get up, Mopsie!” cried Cricket, bringing the whip lightly down -on Mopsie’s black flank, and tightening the rein a little. To her great -surprise Mopsie began to rise on his hind legs, till his front feet -waved in the air, and then he gravely stalked away on the two legs, with -Cricket wildly clutching his mane. - -“Get down, Mopsie,” she shrieked. “Why, I’m falling off. Get down this -minute.” - -Papa and Mike both ran to the rescue, but knowing little Mopsie seemed -to feel that, after all, this was not what was expected of him, so he -slowly lowered his front feet, and stood quietly waiting for further -orders. - -Mike was full of apologies for his pet. - -“It’s the way ye drew the line, Miss Scricket,” he said, anxiously. -“It’s only wan of thim cirkis-tricks. See! he don’t mane no harm, at -all, at all.” - -“Oh, it’s lots of fun,” cried Cricket, excitedly, when she discovered -that Mopsie evidently thought he was only doing his duty. “I wish I -could make him do it again.” But just what pull of the rein was -necessary to tell him to rear she could not find out, though she jerked -the patient pony’s head this way and that. - -“But I’m afraid to have you go out of the yard, my little girl,” said -papa, “for Mopsie might rear like that any time and throw you.” - -“Oh, no, papa, really,” pleaded Cricket, “for he goes up so slowly, that -now that I know what’s coming, I’m not a bit afraid, and he comes right -straight down.” - -However, papa would not consent to Cricket’s making a circus-rider of -herself till she understood Mopsie a little better, so there were two or -three weeks of riding within the grounds. At last there came a day when -papa said that he thought Mopsie was now enough accustomed to a little -girl’s riding him to go straight along the road. - -It was the day after Fourth of July when the children took their first -ride out into the country. Dr. Ward, mounted on his big gray horse, went -with them for some distance, and then gave them permission to ride along -the lake-road and so home, while he rode further on, on some business. - -It was lovely riding along by the lake-road, where it was all cool and -shady, on that hot morning. The edge of the road sloped rather steeply -to the lake, but most of the way there was an old fence along there. In -some places it was broken down. Now and then a fire-cracker in the -distance made both ponies jump a little. Charcoal, especially, was very -nervous about fire-crackers, for once some one had fired off a whole -package right under his nose, and he had been dreadfully frightened. - -Presently the little girls came to a place where some lovely, rare -flowers were growing by the lake side, and Cricket jumped off her pony -to get them. It was one of the places where the fence was broken down, -so she slipped down the bank to pick the flowers, leaving Mopsie -cropping a tuft of grass above. - -As she did so, three small boys, who were in hiding in the bushes, -suddenly jumped up and fired off a whole pack of crackers, flash! bang! -right under Charcoal’s sensitive nose. - -There was a scream from Eunice, Charcoal jumped sideways, and in a -moment Charcoal, Mopsie and Eunice rolled down the steep bank, and were -struggling in the water, while Cricket stood horrified on the bank. The -water was very deep there, even close to the shore, and the force of the -fall carried all three some distance out. Cricket and the very -frightened small boys set up shriek after shriek, but the road was very -lonely, and no houses were near. No one was in sight to render aid. - -Charcoal was nearest the shore, and swam to the bank; he scrambled up -like a dog, and stood shivering on the brink, much too frightened to do -anything but stand still. - -Here, in this strait, Mopsie’s circus-training came to the front. As he -and Eunice both rose to the surface, she struggling and screaming, the -knowing little pony caught her dress in his teeth, and began to swim -slowly towards the shore with his burden. Fortunate, now, that he had -learned to carry heavy things in his teeth like a dog. It was only a -short distance he had to swim, and in a few minutes he was near enough -for Cricket, steadying herself by an overhanging branch, to reach -forward and help draw Eunice in. Mopsie scrambled up as Charcoal had -done, and stood quietly shaking himself, like a big Newfoundland dog. - -For a few minutes the children could do nothing but hug each other and -cry. Then Cricket exclaimed, “Oh, you dear, darling old Mopsie! you -saved my Eunice’s life,” and hugged her brave little pony tightly around -its wet neck. Then Eunice put her dripping arms around it, too. - -“You dearest Mopsie,” she half-sobbed, “I’m so glad you were a -circus-pony, for just a plain horse mightn’t have been able to hold my -dress so, and I’m going to love you just as much as I do Charcoal.” - -Two very funny-looking children rode into the yard a little later. Great -was the excitement when the story was told, and Mopsie had enough -petting and praise and sugar to turn an ordinary horse’s head. Doctor -Ward said that, without doubt, Eunice would have drowned but for -Mopsie’s training to catch and hold things in his teeth, and besides -that, he said that the little fellow’s circus life had probably done for -him what education does for people generally—made him readier and -quicker. - -After that Cricket had the best of it when anybody teased her about -riding a circus-pony, for she would exclaim, “I don’t care if he was. He -saved Eunice’s life, for papa said so. And a plain horse wouldn’t have -known how.” - -And Eunice would add: “We love him all the better for it, because he had -to learn how to be an every-day pony, and he’s learned it so well.” - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - THE KITTENS. - - -“Now, what do you s’pose those children are up to?” asked Cricket, with -much interest. - -“Those children,” referred to in that particular tone, always meant the -twins, Zaidee and Helen. - -Cricket and Eunice sat in an apple-tree, on a low, gnarled limb, -munching harvest apples. It was after dinner, and they had not yet -decided what to do with their afternoon. It was too hot to ride, and -besides, they had been out on their ponies all the morning. - -Trooping along the lane beneath them went the nursery party, Zaidee and -Helen, with their nurse, Eliza, who held little Kenneth by the hand. -With them was their little playmate, Sylvie Craig, with her nurse, who -was wheeling Baby Craig in his carriage. - -Zaidee and Sylvie swung between them a good-sized covered basket, which -did not seem to be heavy, although they carried it with great care. All -were chattering and laughing in high glee. - -“Did you ever do it?” the girls heard Sylvie ask. “It’s the dratest fun. -Zey all swim round, and you pote ’em wiv a stit.” - -“Does they squeal?” queried Zaidee, earnestly. - -“No-o, I don’t zink so,” returned Sylvie, doubtfully. - -“I sawed Thomas cut off a chicken’s head once,” piped up Helen. - -“I’ve seen lots of chiten’s heads tut off,” said Sylvie, in a superior -way. - -“What are they going to do?” wondered the girls in the apple-tree, as -the group passed down the lane. - -“They’re going to the brook,” said Cricket, peering after them. “Let’s -go and see.” - -“Don’t let them see us,” cautioned Eunice. “I b’lieve they’re up to some -mischief. Keep behind the hedge.” - -Eunice and Cricket followed the group at a little distance. - -[Illustration: EUNICE AND CRICKET WATCHING THE OTHER CHILDREN.] - -The children stopped by the brook and the older girls watched their -proceedings with much interest from behind the hedge. The two nurses, -both young girls, sat down on the grassy slope and began to talk, -without noticing the little ones much. The brook was wide just there, -and quite deep with recent rains. Overhanging willows lined its banks, -and made it cool and shady. - -The children opened their basket. - -“What _have_ they got there?” whispered Eunice, craning her neck, as -Sylvie suddenly said,— - -“Don’t open it yet. We must det some stits.” - -Sticks abounded, and each child armed herself with a stout one. Then -Sylvie lifted the cover, and took out four little squirming, week-old -kittens, with their eyes still shut. - -“Now,” directed Sylvie, eagerly, “you frow one in _so_. Oh, see it bob! -frow in anovver one, Zaidee, and pote ’em down when zey turn up,”—and -suiting the action to the word, she poked down the helpless little -bobbing head of the unfortunate kitten. - -“I’m afraid it hurts them,” said tender-hearted Helen. - -“Oh, no, it doesn’t,” insisted Sylvie. “’Tause I heard mamma tell Dennis -to drown zem her own self. Doesn’t hurt, really.” - -And Helen, thus reassured, threw in the wretched little black kitten she -held, and stood ready with her stick. - -“Let me frow one in,” cried three-year-old Kenneth, much excited, -picking up one helpless little straggler, and pitching it eagerly into -the water. “Pote it down, Zaidee!” - -Eunice and Cricket were so much amazed at this blood-thirsty sight, that -at first they simply stared. But when little Kenneth pushed down the -heads of the helpless victims, Eunice recovered herself and rushed to -the rescue. - -“Why, you naughty, naughty children,” she said, in her severest tones, -“to drown the poor little kittens! How would you like me to poke you -down under the water like that, Kenneth?” - -“Sylvie says it doesn’t hurt ’em,” said Kenneth, opening his big blue -eyes. - -“Of course it hurts to be thumped on the head,” said Eunice. “Eliza, you -ought not let them do so.” - -“Oh, law! them kittens don’t mind,” said the nurse, carelessly. “They’ll -never know what killed ’em.” - -“Mamma told Dennis to drown zem, her own self, she did,” objected -Sylvie, clinging to her stick. - -“Dennis doesn’t drown them that way, goosie,” explained Eunice. “He ties -them up in a bag, and puts a stone in it, and they all drown so fast -that they never know it. It’s cruel to hit them that way, you naughty -little things, and you must promise never to do it again.” - -The children, subdued by Eunice’s sharp words and older-sister -authority, duly promised, very gravely, though Sylvie could not resist a -last sly rap. The little, helpless, bobbing things by this time floated -quietly on the surface, and one by one the little bodies drifted beyond -reach of the children’s sticks. - -Then Kenneth, who was only a baby, began to whimper. - -“I didn’t mean to hurt ze tittens,” he sobbed. “Would it have hurted ’em -wivvout we poted ’em, Tritet?” - -“I guess not,” said Cricket, comforting her pet. “P’rhaps it didn’t hurt -them so very much this time, only remember, you must never do it again.” - -“No, me won’t ever pote ’em aden,” promised Kenneth. - -Then, this part of the afternoon’s programme being over, the children -ran away further along the stream to play, while Cricket and Eunice sat -down on the bank, skipping stones. Baby Craig slept peacefully in his -carriage, and the nurses gossiped and crocheted together. - -Presently the girls went a little distance down the bank, and crossed on -the stepping-stones. Lovely cardinal flowers grew in abundance further -up, and they picked big bunches of them. Faintly, from some distance up -the stream, came the children’s voices, but they were out of sight of -the older ones, on account of the overhanging bushes that bordered the -stream above them, on both sides. An hour of the sultry afternoon -slipped by. The girls still sat idly by the brookside, for it was far -too hot for the least exertion. At last, Eliza, who was not usually so -careless, suddenly bethought herself of her neglected charges. - -“Miss Eunice,” she called across the stream, coming up opposite to where -the girls sat, “have you seen the children?” - -“They went up the brook, I think, ’Liza, and I have not thought of them -since. I hope nothing has happened to them,” said Eunice, anxiously. - -“Oh, I guess not,” returned Eliza, but she set off rapidly up the -stream. Some distance beyond there was a tiny cottage, where there lived -a poor widow, a young Scotchwoman, with several little children. Eliza -had sometimes taken the twins there, and it occurred to her that they -might have wandered there now by themselves. - -But in another minute the little ones came in sight, running in great -excitement. - -“Elspeth falled in the water,” shrieked Helen, while still far off. -Elspeth was the Scotchwoman’s two-year-old baby. “We sawed her fall in.” - -Cricket and Eunice were across the stepping-stones in a moment, and flew -to meet the children. - -“What do you mean?” they cried, while Mary Ann left Baby Craig in his -carriage to join them. - -“She falled in,” repeated Zaidee, breathlessly. - -“And we didn’t pote her wiv a stit,” struck in Sylvie, virtuously. - -“But who pulled her out?” asked Eliza. - -“Nobody pulled her out, ’Liza. She’s all in the water.” - -“_Now!_ In the water now? Is she drowned?” cried the others, horrified. - -“I dess her’s drownded dead,” said Sylvie, cheerfully. “But me didn’t -pote her, truly. Her dust fell in.” - -“I _sawed_ her fall in,” put in Kenneth. “It was all deep.” - -“And she kicked in the water,” added Helen, “and by ’n’ by she sailed up -to the top, just like the kitties.” - - - - - CHAPTER X. - ELSPETH. - - -Eunice and Cricket exchanged frightened glances. - -“Where is she now?” repeated Mary Ann, also looking scared. - -“In ze water, ’tourse,” returned little Sylvie, impatiently. “Her sailed -down ze water all zis way, an’ zen ze bushes taught her, an’ her -touldn’t sail any more.” - -“Listen! what’s that?” cried Eunice, with white lips. - -A distant cry was becoming nearer and louder. - -“My bairn! my bairn!” rang a wailing voice. - -Around the curve of the brook ran a wild-eyed woman, wringing her hands. - -Across the fields, attracted by her cries, two men came hurrying. - -“She drowned! my bairn is drowned!” the hapless mother cried, pushing -back her falling hair. - -“I sawed her fall in!” cried Zaidee. - -The questioning men and the half-crazed mother stopped at the child’s -words, and gathered around the little ones. They grew frightened and -incoherent at the storm of questions that assailed them. - -Evidently a tragedy had taken place under the children’s very eyes. They -had seen little Elspeth, when they were way up the bank, they said, -chasing yellow butterflies. She had run towards the brook, through the -tall grass, and she must have plunged straight into the water. This was -the main stream of the Kayuna, and the current ran swift and deep there. - -The children saw her, and ran to the spot, but they never thought of -giving the alarm, for they had no idea what drowning really is. As they -said, “the baby kicked in the water, and then it sailed up to the top.” -Their chief idea was that they must not poke it with a stick. - -They had watched the little creature “sailing” down the brook, and had -run along the bank beside it. - -“Zere it is,” Sylvie suddenly broke off, pointing to the curve above. - -“It’s under the bushes,” Zaidee said, beginning to cry with nervousness -and fright. The excited group around, all talking and asking questions -at once, the frantic mother catching first at one child and then at -another, Mary Ann crying and groaning in true Irish fashion, completely -bewildered the little ones, who had not the faintest idea of the -importance of what they had seen. - -As Zaidee pointed, one of the men sprang into the water, knee deep. - -“I see it!” he cried, and pressed forward through the water. - -The poor mother was plunging after him when the other man forcibly held -her back. - -“Let me go to my bairn,” she cried, struggling. - -“We’ll bring your bairn,” he said, motioning to the two nurses to hold -her back, while he tore up the bank. - -The brushes grew thick there, and the baby had been caught underneath in -such a way that it could not be seen from the steep bank. Excepting that -the children had known where it had stopped, it would have been much -longer before it was found. - -The man on the bank plunged down through the bushes and both men were -lost to view. - -Five minutes of breathless waiting passed, while even the poor mother -only moaned brokenly, and then they reappeared, one of them bearing the -little drowned baby. - -“Run for your pa, children,” cried Eliza, but Cricket’s swift feet were -already flying along to the house. - -The group stood in awed silence as the bearer tenderly deposited the -dripping little burden on the grass. It looked as if it were asleep. The -golden curls clung to its white forehead, and the little face was still -rosy. - -The poor mother cast herself down beside it in a perfect abandonment of -grief, kissing its lips, and clasping the lifeless little form to her -breast, as she cried, ceaselessly,— - -“Oh, my bairn! my bairn!” - -Running at full speed down the lane came Dr. Ward, with blankets, and -close behind him followed his wife, with a whiskey-flask. In a moment he -was among them, and had caught the child from the mother. He tore off -its clothes and put his ear to its heart. - -“There is hope, I think,” he said, quickly, and with that, although the -baby had been so long under water, there began a desperate fight for the -little life. The doctor worked with an intensity that would not yield to -despair, rubbing and working the little round, white limbs. - -The minutes wore on, and the helpless onlookers could only stand by in -breathless silence. The doctor gave brief, quick orders which willing -hands executed. He carried the baby into the direct glare of the -scorching August sun, which beat down with fierce intensity on his -unprotected head. But no one heeded the sickening heat. The poor mother -sat by, passively now, like a stone, her hands clasped round her knees, -in dull despair. Her long hair, yellow as the baby’s own, rolled in a -rough mass down her back, torn and tangled by the bushes, and her wild -eyes watched the doctor’s every movement. - -The work of rubbing the tiny, white body, and working the little arms up -and down, went steadily on, one relieving another, but thus far with no -avail. - -Half an hour passed. The doctor worked on with set lips. - -“Better give it up, sir,” one of the men ventured at last, stopping to -wipe his streaming forehead. The doctor’s face was dark purple, and -every vein was swelling. At the suggestion of stopping their efforts, -the mother uttered a low moan, and stretched out her hands imploringly. - -“Work on,” the doctor made answer, briefly. “Work its arms steadily, -Johnson. Rub evenly, Emily,” he said, bending again to breathe into the -baby’s parted lips. He raised his head suddenly, then bent his ear again -to its heart. - -“Thank God!” he breathed. A thrill of life ran through the baby’s -frame. There was a faint quiver of its eyelashes, a gasp for -breath,—another—and the baby stirred. Elspeth was saved. - -There was a moment of intense silence, and then the mother threw herself -forward and clasped her baby to her bosom with a hungry cry of joy that -no one present ever forgot. - -Papa’s feelings when he learned that his own little ones had seen the -accident may be imagined, and then and there he gave the children a few -instructions that even the youngest ones never forgot. - -The mother had missed her baby, but she thought nothing of it at first, -for the little thing often strayed some distance from the house. At -last, growing anxious, she went out again and looked around. Down the -bank she saw a little child in a pink dress, which she thought was her -little one. It was really a glimpse of Helen in her little pink frock. -The mother went back, thinking the child was safe. - -After a time she went out to call it home, when, to her horror, she saw -her baby’s sunbonnet caught on a low, overhanging branch, with nothing -else to be seen; and then knowing the baby must have fallen in, she had -rushed, screaming for help, down the bank in search of it. - -Little Elspeth, wrapped in blankets, was carried to the doctor’s house -to be cared for further, and the next day she was playing about, as -round and rosy as ever. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - IN THE GARRET. - - -The garret of the old stone house was a mine of wealth to the children. -It was a huge place, extending over the whole house. It had many -unexpected angles and sudden little descents of two or three steps in -different places, over the rambling additions. - -Four generations of Wards had lived at Kayuna, and so there was a most -delightful accumulation in the garret. Of course there were lines of old -trunks, piled with ancient dresses and quaint bonnets dating from the -beginning of the century. There were stacks of old furniture in various -stages of going to pieces. There were piles of musty books, in -strange-smelling leather bindings. There were big bundles of -closely-tied up feather-beds, like huge, soft cannon-balls. These made -magnificent barricades when the children played that they were -bombarding forts. - -It was as hot as mustard up there in the summer-time, of course, but the -children never minded the heat. Then there were the long, rainy days -that came occasionally, when it was a simple delight to scamper up there -directly after breakfast, to hear the rain pelting cheerfully on the -roof, and the wind whistling through the window-casings, “like a boy -with his hands in his pockets,” Cricket said. - -The whole troop had been there one day. It had rained early in the -morning, and though it cleared up before eleven, the children played on -until they had quite exhausted their resources. - -They had sailed across the ocean in search of America, in a huge old -sofa turned upside down. They had been shipwrecked, owing to a sudden -parting of the back and sides of their bark, and then they were chased -by cannibals, represented by Hilda and Edith Craig and an imaginary -host. - -Little Kenneth, the usual victim on these occasions, had been caught and -prepared for a feast, till rescued by Cricket and Hilda in a valiant -charge. - -They had played the Chariot Race in Ben-Hur, with Zaidee and Helen as -horses, harnessed to an old wheel-chair, with Edith as charioteer, while -Cricket drove a dashing pair, consisting of Eunice and Sylvie Craig. -Hilda and Kenneth were occupants of the amphitheatre, and cheered on the -contestants, as they raced around the great chimney in the centre of the -house. - -That naturally suggested the burning of Rome, with Nero, personated by -Eunice, fiddling, as she sat on a very high and very insecure tower, -built of trunks and chairs and three-legged tables, while the -inhabitants of the city tore around to save their property. - -Then they tied themselves up in bags, drawn over their feet and around -their waists, for tails, and played they were mermaids, disporting -themselves among the rocks and seaweeds, represented by boxes and old -drapery, properly arranged on one of the lower levels of the floor. - -This lasted until Kenneth, trying to imitate the older girls in diving -off a bowlder on to a feather bed beneath, missed his balance and fell -entangled in the bag that served him for a tail. He bumped his poor -little head and made his nose bleed, and was borne off shrieking, by -Eliza, who just then appeared on the scene. - -Then the Craigs and Hilda had to go home to dinner, and the twins went -out to play. - -After dinner, Cricket and Eunice wandered up stairs to the garret again. - -“What let’s do now?” asked Eunice, as they sat among the ruins of Rome. - -“Why, let’s—” Cricket looked vaguely around. “Let’s dress up in those -clothes up there.” - -Some old clothes of Dr. Ward’s, and of Donald’s, hung up on the wall. - -“Oh, that will be fun,” cried Eunice, jumping down. “We haven’t dressed -up this summer, once.” - -They slipped out of their gingham dresses and petticoats, and with much -giggling and merriment got themselves into the boys’ clothes. - -The trousers were so long that they had to cut off the legs, to allow -their feet to come out at all, and the vests and coats were anything but -a tight fit. - -“This coat is too fat for me,” Cricket said, dubiously, studying the -effect. - -Eunice caught up a small pillow and stuffed it up behind Cricket’s back -under the coat. - -“But now I look hump-backed,” objected Cricket, twisting herself double -to get a rear view. - -“Never mind, we’ll play you are hump-backed,” returned Eunice, always -ready of resource, as she patted the pillow into a nice, round hump. -“We’ll play that we’re Italians, and you can be that poor little -Pickaninny, or whatever his name was, that mamma read us about last -night.” - -“Then we’ll be tramps. Oh, let’s go out doors, and go round to the -kitchen and scare cook!” - -This proposal was received with applause by Eunice. - -“Wait till I slip down stairs into papa’s office, Eunice,” Cricket -suggested next, “and I’ll get some court-plaster to patch up our faces, -and no one will ever know us. We’ll have piles of fun!” - -Cricket was gone a long time, and came back giggling and breathless. - -“I heard some one in the hall,” she said, “so I didn’t dare go down -stairs, and I just got out of the bath-room window on to the office -roof, and I climbed down the trellis and went in the office window, and -just as I found the court-plaster case, I heard some one coming, so I -had to run like fury, and I just flew out the window, and didn’t I skip -up the trellis lively!” gasped Cricket, taking breath. - -“Then I heard some one in the hall, so I had to stay in the bath-room -ever so long, and I thought they’d never go. And here’s the whole case,” -she said, producing it. - -“But suppose that papa wants the case before we can get it back?” asked -Eunice, selecting a big piece. - -“Hope to goodness he won’t, or I’ll get a wiggin,” said Cricket, calmly, -applying, as she spoke, a good-sized strip over one eye, while the -corner of Eunice’s mouth disappeared under a black patch. - -“Oh, Cricket, how funny you look!” Eunice exclaimed, when she had -completed her own face. Cricket’s left eye had vanished, and two long -strips on the other side, right over her dimples, completely disguised -her. She had stuck a broad-brimmed, ragged hat on the back of her curly -head, and streaked what was visible of her face and her hands with soot -from the chimney. - -“You are the funniest girl!” Eunice cried, fairly doubling up with -laughter, as Cricket extricated a little black paw from her voluminous -coat sleeve, and said, in a whining voice,— - -“Please, ma’am, I’m a poor widdy, and I have seven small children, and -my wife is dead, and I’m blind and deaf and dumb, and I can’t talk on -account of my bad rheumatics, and will you give me some ice-cream and a -cup of coffee?” - -After they had laughed themselves sore, they concluded that they were -ready to set out, so they stole cautiously down. Eunice had bundled her -long braid on top of her head under a battered old felt hat, jammed well -over her ears, and nobody would have known the two dirty little wretches -that crept quietly over the stairs. It was the middle of the afternoon, -and as everybody was napping, the coast was clear. They slipped out the -side door into the shrubbery, and through that to the road, climbing the -low stone fence. Then they came up the lane to the back door. - -Cook was nodding on the shady back piazza, as the grotesque little -figures stole up the steps. Cricket crept softly up and laid a grimy -little finger on the end of cook’s unconscious nose. - -Cook opened her eyes with a start. - -“Howly Moses!” she howled, thinking she had the nightmare. “Get away wid -yer.” - -“I’m a poor widdy,” whined Cricket, holding out her hand. “I’ve got -seven small children, and my back is so lame that I can’t talk.” - -“He means he can’t work,” struck in Eunice. “He doesn’t understand -English very well, and he’s so deaf anyway, he can’t hear what he’s -saying,” she explained to cook, who sat staring. - -“Please, mum, if you’ve any very nice chocolate pudding, I feel as if I -could eat a little,” said Cricket, with a remembrance of dessert. “I had -a very light breakfast,” folding her hands over the pit of her stomach. - -“I’ll light-breakfast yer, yer young imperence,” growled cook, quite -awake now. “Git off these premises in the shake o’ a dyin’ lamb’s tail, -or I’ll know the raison whoy.” Cook was a large woman, and as she slowly -rose out of her chair, she towered like a mountain above the children, -who instinctively dodged her threatening hand. - -“Git out of this, immijit! Shure I’ll have no tramps here.” - -“We’re not tramps,” said Eunice, changing base. “We’re selling things.” - -“It’s selling things ye are, are ye? and shure, where’s the things ye’re -afther sellin’?” - -“We’re selling post-holes,” said Cricket, promptly, as her eye fell on a -particularly large hole near by, that had been freshly dug for a -clothes-post. “We’ve brought some with us.” - -“Post-holes, is it?” cried cook, enraged, and suspecting a joke; “we’ll -see how yer like post-holes, drat yer imperence,” and before Cricket -could dodge, she had swung her by the shoulders off the steps, and -jammed her very forcibly into the hole. - -“Sell post-holes again, will yer? I’ll sell yer post-holes for yer!” -cried cook, angrily. - -“Stop, cook!” screamed Eunice, hanging on her arm; “it’s Cricket, cook, -and it’s me.” - -Cook paused with uplifted arm, and Cricket, decidedly the worse for -wear, took the opportunity to scramble out of the hole, exclaiming, -“We’re only pretending, cook, and we truly didn’t mean to scare you so -badly.” - -Cook looked down on the little figures, about a third as large as -herself, and laughed grimly. - -“Scare me, is it? Shure, I think the shoe’s on the other fut. But you’re -always up to your tricks.” - -“Oh, you didn’t really scare me,” said Cricket, “only you did hurt me a -little when you grabbed me by the nape of the arm. But I wouldn’t have -told if Eunice hadn’t.” - -“But I didn’t want you to get hurt, Cricket. Come on, let’s go into the -orchard and get some harvest apples. Good-by, cook,” and the little -tramps ran off, hand in hand. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - THE TRAMPS. - - -Once in the orchard, they felt as if their feet were on their native -heath, and they were up, in a twinkling, among the branches of their -favourite tree. - -In the munching of apples they quite forgot that they were tramps, until -Cricket remarked that her hump made a most convenient pillow for her to -lean back against. - -“These clothes are getting awfully hot, Cricket,” said Eunice. “I -wouldn’t be a boy for anything I can think of, to wear such things all -the time.” - -“I think girls are nicer than boys, anyway,” remarked Cricket, -thoughtfully. “Girls are always smarter, and I think it makes boys mad.” - -“Will always says if anything isn’t just right that we do, that it’s -just like a girl,” returned Eunice, in an aggrieved tone. - -“Yes, boys are just so funny, but I don’t mind,” said Cricket, -philosophically. - -“I’ve about made up my mind,” pursued Eunice, “that I sha’n’t get -married when I grow up. Husbands are such a ’sponsibility. Mamma, you -know, always fixes papa’s cravats for him, and he never, never goes to -the right drawer for his clean shirts. It’s so funny! Shall you get -married, Cricket?” - -Cricket considered the question. - -“I think,” she said, after some reflection, “that if I don’t go to -Africa as a missionary, that I’d rather be a widow with an only son.” - -“But Cricket,” exclaimed Eunice, “you’d have to be married first if you -were a widow.” - -“Why, so I should!” returned Cricket, much surprised. “I didn’t think of -that. You see, Aunt Kate and Harry have such nice times travelling round -together, and there’s Aunt Helen and Max, too. I was thinking of them, -and I forgot they were ever married.” - -“I think I’ll be a doctor, like papa,” went on Eunice, “or else I’d like -to be a stage-driver. Whoa! get up there! So, boy!” she said, slapping -imaginary reins, for Eunice was a born horsewoman. - -“These clothes _are_ awfully hot, Eunice,” said Cricket, returning to -the original topic. - -“Let’s go and take them off now.” - -Eunice was quite willing, so they clambered down, chattering and -laughing still. - -At a little distance stood old Thomas, attracted by their voices. He had -been coming through the orchard, and he saw up in the tree what he -thought were two ragamuffins, stealing apples, and he was lying in wait -for their descent. As they slipped down, and swung off from a low -branch, he darted forward, and caught one of them in his arms. Of -course, it chanced to be Cricket. - -“I’ve caught ye now, ye young rascal! I’ll teach yer to steal our -apples!” - -“Why, Thomas!” cried Cricket, “don’t you know me?” - -“Yer bet I know yer. I’ve been watchin’ for yer this long time back. I -’low I’ll give yer a trouncin’ that yer’ll remember for one while, yer -young scallawags!” Thomas cried, holding the struggling child by the -shoulder, and bringing his stick whack across her back. The big pillow -saved her from the blow, and Eunice again flew to the rescue. She -managed to get hold of the stick, and clung to it with both her strong -little hands. - -“Don’t you know us, Thomas?” both children cried. “We’re not stealing -apples; they’re ours.” - -“Yourn, be they? I’ll teach yer if they’re yourn, yer young impidence!” -Thomas cried, angrily, drowning the children’s protests in his loud -tones. “I’ve been on the lookout fer ye, stealin’ my apples and melins, -and garden truck. I’ll hev ye up before the doctor. He said he saw two -strange boys scootin’ round the orchard ’sarternoon; and now I’ve caught -yer, I’ll teach yer to steal apples and sich,” shaking her till her -teeth knocked together, and her arms flew about like a wind-mill. - -Then he tightened his clutch upon the unfortunate Cricket, who was quite -overcome by this second attack, and grasping Eunice by the arm, he -started off, dragging the protesting children. - -“Let us _alone_, Thomas,” screamed Cricket, at the top of her lungs. -“We—’re—not—boys—at—all.” - -“Yer don’t come none o’ yer stuff over me,” was all the answer Thomas -vouchsafed, still dragging them on with relentless hands. - -“But it’s Cricket,” cried that victim, despairingly. - -Thomas dropped his hold so suddenly that Cricket sat down very -unexpectedly. Eunice pulled off her battered felt hat, and her long -braid fell down her back. - -Thomas, who had been completely taken in, stared at them. - -“Why didn’t ye say so before?” he said, at length. “Gittin’ yerselves up -in such rigs that yer own mar wouldn’t ha’ knowed ye. Kep’ a sayin’ -‘We’re not boys, we’re not boys,’ when anyone with half an eye could see -ye was. Henderin’ me outer half an arternoon’s work,” and Thomas went -off, disgusted. - -The children looked at each other and burst out laughing. Their disguise -had been altogether too successful. Cricket rubbed her shoulder -comically. - -“I guess Thomas’s fingers are tipped with steel,” she said. “I know I’m -all black and blue.” - -“Poor Cricket,” said Eunice, sympathetically. “First you were jammed -into a hole and then you were shaken to jelly. I don’t see why he didn’t -grab me.” - -“It’s a peculiar concidence,” said Cricket, meaning coincidence. “No -matter who’s around, _I_ always am grabbed. Let’s go and get some -plums.” - -There were some choice early plums near the front of the house, and the -children gathered a good supply and retired into a little rustic arbour -to eat them. Presently a carriage full of callers rolled up the avenue. - -“Dear me; it’s the Saunders,” said Cricket, peeping out, “and there’s -Irene Saunders. Gracious, Eunice, mamma’ll be looking for us in a -minute! Let’s skip round to the side-door as soon as they’re in the -house.” - -But to their dismay, they heard the ladies say to the maid,— - -“It’s so charming on this lovely piazza, that we will wait here for Mrs. -Ward.” - -The piazza was a delightful place, twelve feet broad, and supplied with -lounging chairs of every description, a table, magazines, hammocks, -cushions and rugs, and sufficiently shaded by vines to soften the -sunlight. But the arbour where the children were was in full view. - -“Shall we go, anyway?” asked Eunice, but before they could get out, Dr. -Ward came round the house, and greeted the guests on the piazza. - -“Now, what shall we do?” said Cricket, in despair. “If papa sees us -he’ll certainly think we are tramps, too. I heard him tell Thomas, the -other day, that tramps were getting so thick, he might have to set the -dog on some of them. I don’t think I _could_ stand any more knocking -round.” - -“Well, let’s wait,” said Eunice, for there seemed to be nothing else to -do. - -Just then Mrs. Ward appeared, and after a moment there were inquiries -for Cricket and Eunice. The children were near enough to hear every -word. - -“I want my sister to see your little flock, Mrs. Ward,” said Mrs. -Saunders, graciously, “for you know we all think they are the -show-children of the neighbourhood.” Mrs. Saunders was a woman of much -means and little cultivation, who had lately taken a summer home in -Wellsboro. - -Accordingly the twins and Kenneth were soon produced, for they were -fresh from the nurse’s hands. - -“And Cricket?” said Mrs. Saunders, again, presently. “She is such a -charming child—so original and interesting.” - -“Oh!” groaned Cricket, in the arbour. - -“Children,” said Mrs. Ward to the twins, “you may go, please, and see if -you and Eliza can’t find Cricket and Eunice. Kenneth, you take Irene -down to the flower-beds, and you may pick a big bunch of nasturtiums.” - -The nasturtium bed was dangerously near the arbour. Cricket and Eunice -scarcely breathed. The little ones picked the flowers and chatted -together. - -“What a pretty little house,” said Irene, presently, noticing the -arbour. “Is it your house, Kenneth? What’s in it?” She pushed apart the -vines and peeped through the lattice. - -The next moment the grown people were startled by the little ones’ cries -of terror. Frightened by the unexpected sight of the queer-looking -creatures in the arbour, they ran screaming toward the house. - -“There!” said Cricket, desperately. “We might as well go out. Children -are the curiousest things.” - -“There’s dretful things there!” screamed Irene, flying to her mother. - -Dr. Ward came quickly down the steps to investigate. - -Then he stopped and stared in astonishment; and so did everybody else, -as the grotesque little figures came slowly out of the arbour. - -“It’s only me, papa,” Cricket said, dejectedly; “we have been -dressing-up.” - -By this time they were veritable scare-crows. Cricket’s hump was well -wedged up under one shoulder, and soot, dirt and court-plaster, combined -with the effects of the heat, made a little black-a-moor of her. Her hat -hung over one ear, and her curly crop was all on end. Eunice’s long hair -was loosened from its braid, and hung over her back in a rough, black -mass. - -Cutting off the trousers to make them short enough had left the upper -part of them so very long that walking was difficult, except by a -constant hitching up of the band, and their slender little legs looked -like very small clappers in very big bells. - -The doctor kept his gravity with difficulty, and the guests looked on in -polite astonishment at the remarkable apparitions, for a moment, and -then everybody laughed. - -Mrs. Ward recovered herself immediately. - -“Mrs. Saunders,” she said, resignedly, “this is Cricket, my charming and -original child, if you will pardon my repeating your words. But I am -sure this is a case when distance will lend enchantment to your opinion -of her. You may go, Cricket.” - -And the shamefaced children gladly fled. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - MAMIE HECKER. - - -According to the children’s ideas, one of the funniest things about -living in the country was that eggs could be used as money. - -It was such a delightfully simple way of getting candy. One could go to -the barns, find two eggs, and, with one in each hand, march off to the -corner grocery-store and get their value in chocolate-sticks, if you -liked chocolate. If not, why, four marsh-mallows, rather stale and -floury, to be sure, but just as nice for toasting, could be had for one -egg. - -It always seemed remarkably like getting candy for nothing, and -“egg-candy,” as they called it, was certainly much more delicious than -that for which one paid just ordinary, every-day pennies. - -There were many errands to be done in so large a family, and as mamma -believed that every child should be brought up to be useful, Cricket and -Eunice were very apt to be the “leggers,” as they called it. They -usually sold their services for an egg or two apiece. - -“Well, young women,” said Dr. Ward, one morning, “I am in search of a -pair of messengers of just about your size.” - -“All right, papa. You can have them on the usual terms,” answered -Cricket, importantly. - -“You’re a regular pair of Jews, you two,” laughed papa, teasingly. “You -do nothing for nothing. Don’t you think you ought to run on errands for -love? I work for your board and clothes, and certainly you should do -errands for me.” - -“No, I shouldn’t,” returned Cricket, hugging him. “I love you in return -for that, and I cut your magazines for you, too. That’s plenty of pay. -The errands are my persquisites. Cook says everybody ought to have -persquisites.” - -“Oh, that’s it. On the ground of persquisites, then, I’m perfectly -willing to pay.” - -“And then, of course,” went on Cricket, “I would be willing to do an -errand for nothing, very socionally”—she meant occasionally—“just to be -obliging, you know.” - -“That’s very kind of you, I’m sure,” laughed papa. “Now, then, I want -you to go to Mr. Henry Barnes, and give him this note, and wait for an -answer. It’s important. Then, when you come back, you can go to the -barns and get two eggs apiece, and go to the store if you want to. When -you come back, mind. I want the note carried directly.” - -“All right, sir,” answered Cricket, taking the note, and away scampered -the little “leggers” for their broad-brimmed hats. - -It goes without saying that Cricket’s could not be found, and at last -she recollected she had dropped it yesterday, down into the dry well in -the lower pasture, and had forgotten to get it again. - -“Can’t I wear my best one, mamma?” she begged. - -“No, my dear, certainly not,” answered mamma, not knowing it was -necessary that the note should be taken immediately. “You know that is -the rule always. If you will be careless and leave your things about, -you must find them.” - -So the children ran down to the lower pasture after the hat. It took -some time to recover it, and then they had forgotten that there was any -necessity for haste. - -“Let’s take the ponies,” said Eunice, as they came back from the -pasture, “and ride around the lake-road home. I haven’t been there since -I fell in.” - -“We can’t,” said Cricket. “Mike said yesterday that Charcoal’s shoe was -loose, and he must take him to the blacksmith’s this morning. I saw him -going right after breakfast, and he isn’t home yet.” - -“Oh, bother! then we’ll have to walk,” said Eunice. But the walk looked -very inviting, as they turned out of the avenue into the shady road. It -wound down the hill, over the Kayuna, and swept around the curve out of -sight. - -Just over the bridge was the farmer’s house, a low, white building, half -hidden in the trees. As the two little girls passed, they saw a -frowzyheaded child of seven swinging on the gate. - -“H’lo!” she called. “Where you goin’?” - -“Somewhere to make little girls ask questions,” replied Eunice, -teasingly. - -“I’m goin’, too,” cried the child, scrambling down off the gate. - -Now Mamie Hecker, the farmer’s little daughter, always wanted to “go -too,” whenever she saw the children pass. She was a whining, dirty, -disagreeable little thing, and always made herself very unpleasant. She -stuck to the children like a burr, and oftentimes they would go far out -of their way, if they saw her in the distance, to avoid her tagging -after them. So when she now got off the gate and came up, chewing her -sunbonnet string, as usual, the two little girls exchanged vexed -glances. - -“You can’t come, too,” said Cricket, decidedly. - -“Yes, I can, too, you’re goin’ to the store to get some candy an’ I want -some, too,” cried Mamie, dancing around them. - -“No, we’re not, either. We’re going for a long walk, and you can’t come -one step,” said Eunice, looking very determined, as they walked on. - -“I will come, too! I will!” cried Mamie, catching hold of her dress, and -trotting along. - -“Don’t you dare touch my dress with your dirty little fingers,” cried -Eunice, pulling her fresh gingham frock indignantly out of Mamie’s -hands. - -Mamie Hecker was one of those disagreeable children that give everyone a -desire to box their ears, no matter what they do. Truth to tell, she -generally deserved it, for her mother spoiled her. She was almost the -only person that upset Cricket’s sweet temper, and Cricket now looked as -if she could bite her. - -“Oh, Cricket!” exclaimed Eunice, stopping short. “Have you papa’s note?” - -“No, I thought you had,” said Cricket, in dismay. - -“We must have left it by the dry well, then,” said Eunice, turning. “We -must go and find it. Now, we’re going home again,” she added to Mamie, -“so you needn’t tag any more. Horrid little tag-tail, anyway.” - -Cricket and Eunice ran back up the road, jumped over the fence, and -raced across to the pasture. Much to their relief, the white envelope -still lay where they had left it. - -Cricket picked it up, and put it safely in her pocket this time, and -then the children walked more deliberately back. - -“Let’s get our eggs now,” Eunice said, as they passed near the barn, -“and skip around to the store the back way and get some candy, so we’ll -have it to eat on the way. I’m awfully hungry.” - -“All right, and Mamie Hecker won’t see us, either,” assented Cricket, -entirely forgetting her father’s order to do the errand first. So they -turned towards the barns. They had to search some little time for eggs, -for the hens were late about their usual duties. - -“Plaguey things,” said Cricket, “and there’s lots of hens standing -’round doing nothing.” - -“Oh, here’s a nest,” called Eunice, “with two eggs in it, and here’s a -hen on—” - -Cricket unceremoniously slipped her hand under the hen and whisked her -off. A warm white egg lay in the nest. - -“She was just going to cluck, anyway,” said Cricket, as the hen clucked -indignantly. “Say, cut-a-cut-ca-da-cut, if you want to, and don’t scold -so. Your egg is all right. Here’s another in this nest. That’s four. -Come on.” - -They went out the side-door of the barn, intending to run across the -orchard and into the back door of the store, and then to take a cut over -the fields to the main road again. This would bring them out below the -Heckers’ house. - -To their great disgust, however, just outside the barnyard, they found -Mamie Hecker lurking. - -“I seen yer,” she said, triumphantly. “You’ve got some eggs, and you’re -a-goin’ to the store to swap them for some candy. I’m a-goin’, too.” - -“Now, Mamie Hecker,” said Eunice, stopping angrily, “you can go straight -home. You shan’t go one step with us.” - -Mamie squinted up her impish little black eyes, provokingly. - -“Road’s mine as much as yours,” she said, dancing around, in a way -peculiar to herself. “You can’t help my walkin’ in it.” - -“You shan’t come with us,” said Eunice, stubbornly, ignoring that point. - -“I’ll come as far as my father’s fence, any way,” said Mamie, walking -backwards in front of them. - -“You’re a horrid, mean, little copy-cat,” said Cricket, wrathfully. “I -shouldn’t think you’d like to come where you’re not wanted.” - -“I don’t keer,” returned Mamie, carelessly. “I want some candy.” - -“We’ve given you candy, and we’ve _given_ you candy,” said Cricket, “and -the more we give you, the more you want. You shall not go one step with -us to-day.” - -“I’ll go as far as my pa’s fence goes, anyway,” repeated Mamie, skipping -along, “’n’ I’ll go further if I wanter.” - -“Mamie Hecker,” said Eunice, stopping suddenly, “if you go one step -further than your father’s fence,—I’ll spank you.” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - LYNCH-LAW. - - -Mamie looked considerably startled. Provoking little imp as she was, the -girls had never actually touched her. - -“You dassent,” she said, unbelievingly, after a moment. “You dassent -tetch me.” - -“Yes, I do dare, and I will,” said Eunice, firmly. - -The children had been walking on through the orchard, during the -dispute, Mamie keeping along by the fence. They were close to the corner -now, where a gate opened. - -“Don’t you follow us one step beyond that gate.” Eunice looked so -determined that Mamie thought she had better try to make terms. - -“If I don’t go no further,” she said, hanging on to the gate, “will you -give me candy when you come back?” - -“No, I won’t. We’re not coming back this way.” - -“Then I’ll come, too,” said Mamie, suddenly deciding to risk it. - -Cricket and Eunice went slowly through the gate. Eunice looked like a -high executioner. - -Mamie hesitated a moment, then slowly followed after. - -“I’m a-comin’,” she called, rashly, bringing her fate on her own head. - -Eunice turned around very promptly. - -“Cricket, please hold my eggs for me. Now, Mamie Hecker, if you step -over that stick,—you’ll see.” - -Mamie immediately took a step forward, keeping her eye on Eunice, -intending to dodge at the last moment. Eunice stood perfectly still. She -was a tall, strongly-built girl, for her age, and quite capable of -carrying out her threat. Mamie Hecker had always been a thorn in her -flesh, and there were a thousand provoking things in the past to punish -her for. - -Mamie took another step. Eunice looked indifferent. Another stop, and -she stood by the stick that was her Rubicon. Eunice looked up at the -sky. Mamie put her foot cautiously over the stick, ready to fly at -Eunice’s first movement. Eunice seemed not to see her. Mamie took -another step and was fairly over. - -[Illustration: CRICKET AND EUNICE THREATEN TO PUNISH MAMIE.] - -Eunice swooped down upon her like a hawk, and grabbed her skirt, as the -child dodged, shrieking. She caught her, struggling, and, with a deft -sweep of her arm, a trick learned in playing foot-ball with the boys, -she brought Mamie into approved spanking position, and then and there -gave her a punishment which she always richly deserved, but which it was -her mother’s place, not Eunice’s, to give her. - -Mamie shrieked at the top of her lungs, “Eunice is killin’ me! Eunice is -killin’ me!” - -“Do hold her mouth, Cricket,” said Eunice, spanking on. “Horrid little -thing! I’ll give her something to cry for, for once.” - -Cricket came nearer, with her eggs still in her hand. Mamie’s wildly -kicking feet gave her a vigorous thump in the stomach, that unexpectedly -doubled her up like a jack-knife, crushing her eggs which she still held -in her hand. - -“Children!” suddenly came a well-known voice behind them. “What does -this disgraceful scene mean?” - -There stood Doctor Ward and Archie. Eunice’s hand dropped instantly, and -she released her kicking victim. Mamie righted herself, and flew at her, -screaming. Cricket rose slowly out of the dust, pushing back her hair, -with egg-stained hands, that left a yellow plaster on her curly pate. -Her blue cambric was smeared from neck to hem with rivers of egg. -Eunice’s hat was off, her hair streaming wildly over her shoulders, her -cheeks scarlet, and her eyes flashing. Mamie had torn her dress badly, -and both girls were a spectacle. - -Doctor Ward caught Mamie by the shoulder, with a strong hand. - -“Be quiet, child,” he said, sternly. “Girls, what does all this mean? -Have you been to Mr. Barnes?” - -“No, papa,” faltered Cricket, suddenly conscience-smitten. In her -excitement, she had entirely forgotten that they had been sent on an -important errand. - -“Not _yet_? And I sent you two hours ago. Where is the note?” - -“Here it is,” and Cricket produced from her pocket a very crumpled -envelope, which looked as if it had seen hard service. - -“This? Do you mean to tell me that this is the note I gave you? I -certainly can’t send this. Archie, will you go to Mr. Barnes for me, and -tell him—no, I must write him again. He should have had this an hour -ago, for he will be gone to town, and he should have had it before he -left. Cricket, you have put me in a very unpleasant position.” - -“Oh, papa, I am so sorry!” said Cricket, miserably. “First we forgot -this note, and had to go back.” - -“That’s a baby trick. I thought you were getting over that. Go on.” - -“Then we thought we’d get the eggs and go to the store first, so as to -have the candy to eat on the way; and Mamie said she’d go, and I said -she shouldn’t, and Eunice said she’d spank her if she did,—horrid little -thing; and she did, and Eunice spanked her, and she kicked me and broke -my eggs,” finished Cricket, rapidly. - -Doctor Ward’s mouth twitched a little under his moustache, although he -was seriously annoyed that the note had not reached its destination in -time. He knew very well what a torment Mamie was to everyone, and he did -not in his heart blame the girls for taking the law into their own -hands. However, he said: - -“You have disobeyed me, children. I told you to go _directly_ with the -note, and get your candy afterwards. Your disobedience is the cause of -your very unladylike display of temper. You can both go to the house. -Mamie, you may go home also. See that hereafter you do not follow or -tease the girls, and I will see that they never touch you again.” - -Cricket and Eunice walked soberly up to the house, meek enough in -appearance, but really deeply indignant. To be sent away in disgrace -before that horrid little Mamie Hecker! She was dancing around at a safe -distance, calling after them, jeeringly,— - -“Oh, ho! Who’s caught it now! Spank me again, will yer?” - -Dr. Ward marched the two little girls into the house, and ordered them -both off to be made presentable again, and then to come to the library. - -Fifteen minutes later, two clean, but very solemn-looking children -presented themselves at the library door. - -“Children,” began Dr. Ward, sternly, as they stood before him, “you have -disobeyed me. I told you to go _immediately_ on an errand, and you -loitered. The fact that the note happened to be important, does not -render your disobedience any more serious, remember, although it makes -the consequences more serious for me. You also gave way, both of you, to -a very unladylike display of temper. As a punishment, I shall keep you -apart all day. You must not even speak to each other. Eunice, you may go -to your mother, and she will give you something to do, and Cricket may -stay here in the library till dinner-time. You may learn something to -occupy your time. Let me see. You may sit down and learn your -Sunday-school lesson for to-morrow.” - -“Oh, papa!” groaned Cricket, at the thought of really losing that -beautiful day out-of-doors. “Please, _please_ do something to us and let -us go! I’d truly rather you’d give me three hard slaps with your ruler.” - -“My dear little girl,” said the doctor, “you know I could not possibly -give you three hard slaps, or even one hard slap, with the ruler; for -that would hurt me rather more than it would you, and I think it is you -two that deserve punishment.” - -“I’ll go to bed earlier to-night, then, a whole hour,” pleaded Cricket, -“if you will only let us speak to each other. I know we were dreadfully -careless about the note, but I won’t forget again, truly, at least not -for a long time.” - -“No, it must stand as I said, my dear. Besides, you know you lost your -tempers disgracefully with that little Mamie.” - -“You needn’t take the trouble to punish us for spanking that Mamie,” -Cricket burst out, on this, fairly swelling with wrath at the -remembrance. “She just needed it, papa, for she’s such a horrid little -thing, and such a tag-tail, and her mother never spanks her.” - -“And anyway, papa,” struck in Eunice, her eyes flashing still, “I don’t -mind if you do punish me for that, for it was such a satisfaction.” - -“Well, well,” said papa, coughing behind his hand. “I really think you -won’t do that again. And the next time you think that Mamie needs -punishment, don’t try lynch-law, but refer to the higher powers.” - -“I will, papa. What is lynch-law?” - -“Lynch-law, my dear, is the process of inflicting punishment, by -private persons, for crimes or offences, without reference to law. -That is, you know, that however disagreeable Mamie may be, and however -much she annoys you, you really had no right to touch her. You should -have consulted your mother or me long ago, before things came to this -pass. We are the law, in this case. Instead of this, you took the law -into your own hands, and the consequence is that the law now takes you -in hand. However, I am willing to consider the mitigating -circumstances—that means what excuse you had—and we will say that you -two must remain apart till dinner-time, and meditate on the beauty of -the virtue of instant obedience.” - -“Oh, papa,” cried Cricket, hugging him well, willing to take her -punishment now that the merited lecture was over, “next time that you -send me with a note I’ll go like a little spider, you’ll see!” - -But I regret to say that Cricket even after this had a very hard lesson -before she learned to be perfectly trustworthy where her memory was -concerned. But this story comes later. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - GOING TO THE CIDER MILL. - - -It was a hot, scorching afternoon in late August. All the grown people -had retired to darkened rooms in the coolest depths of the great stone -house, in search of what comfort could be found. Even nurse had gone to -bed with a headache. - -Mamma and auntie had tried to sit on the piazza, for a time, to watch -the little ones, but at last they, too, had to give it up. - -“What are children made of?” sighed auntie. “How _can_ they want to stay -out doors, and broil in the sun, instead of playing in that great, cool -nursery? Shall we make them come in?” - -But the children rebelled at the very idea. - -“Why, it isn’t very hot,” said Cricket, in amazement. “Go in the house? -in the daytime? when it doesn’t rain?” - -So mamma charged the older ones to take good care of the twins, and -impressed upon Cricket that she must not let Kenneth out of her sight, -“and don’t go away,” she finished. - -“I doesn’t want anyone to take care of me,” objected Kenneth. “I sink -I’m a big man, mamma.” - -But his mamma kissed him, and told him that even big men minded their -sisters; and then she and auntie betook themselves to the darkened -depths of their own rooms, and the coolness of cambric wrappers. - -The hot hours went by. The children played contentedly for a time, then -they grew tired of everything, and a little cross, too, for they were -really worn out by the heat. - -At last, the whole flock of six sat in a disconsolate row along the -broad stone fence that surrounded the grounds. Kenneth fretted for -something to do, and the twins teased each other. - -“If only these children weren’t here,” said Eunice, somewhat crossly, -“we might do something.” - -“There’s never any fun with children round,” answered Hilda, severely. - -“I don’t like to be here anyway,” whined Zaidee. “I wish nurse would -come.” - -“Hark!” exclaimed Cricket. “I hear something,” as the heavy rumble of -wheels was heard. The children watched the bend of the road with -interest. Anything that passed was of the greatest importance in the -present want of amusement. - -“It’s Thomas, with the oxen,” cried Eunice. “Let’s make him take us, -too—oh, bother! these children.” - -The heavy team lumbered in sight, drawn by big, black oxen. Old Thomas -was plodding along by their side, occasionally cracking the long lash of -his goad around their patient heads. Will and Archie stood in the cart. - -Thomas stopped his team in the shade and wiped his forehead with his big -red bandanna. - -“Ruther a warmish day,” he remarked, as if it were a new discovery. - -“Where are you going?” chorused the children. - -“Down to the cider mill,” answered Will, briskly. “Come, get up, -Tummas.” - -“Oh, dear!” grumbled Eunice, “you boys can go everywhere, and have piles -of fun, and we’ve got to stay here and take care of _children_,”—with -withering scorn. - -“Come along, all of you, if you want,” said Archie. “’Tisn’t far.” - -“But Kenneth and the twins,” objected Cricket. - -“Oh, let the kids come, too,” replied Archie, jumping down. The “kids” -hopped around in great glee at the idea. - -“Mamma told us not to go away,” began Eunice, doubtfully; but Hilda, who -was less used to obedience, said quickly,— - -“She only meant we were not to go away from the children, and we’re not. -We’re going to take them. Put them in, Arch,” and in she scrambled, -while Archie swung the little ones over the side of the cart. - -“Come, Tummas, Tummas, get up the old gee-haws,” Will said, and off they -started. The three little ones sat in a jubilant row on the bottom of -the cart, and the girls balanced themselves on the empty cider barrels, -for there was no seat. Stolen fruits are always sweet, and their rather -uneasy consciences gave an additional zest to the fun. - -“Gee, haw!” cried Thomas, cracking his lash around the yoke of the -plodding team. Down the road they pitched and lumbered, screaming with -merriment, across the bridge, under which the little winding Kayuna -babbled, and up the rather steep hill on the other side. - -At last they reached the cider mill. What fun it was to run around the -apple-smelling place, and to suck, through a straw, the sickishly-sweet -juice dropping from the press. - -Kenneth was lost once, to be discovered leaning over one of the low -vats, splashing his hands in the pale, yellow liquid with great -enjoyment. Of course he was soaked to his shoulders. - -“You bad boy,” scolded Eunice, fishing him out. “Look at your dress!” -for it was drenched with cider and black with dirt. His face was grimy -and his curls sticky and odourous. - -“My! won’t ’Liza scold!” commented Zaidee, very comfortingly. - -Kenneth looked aggrieved, and put up his lip. - -“You bringed me, Tritet; I’m hundery, and I want my supper.” - -“Come, young uns,” shouted Thomas, outside, when he had filled his -barrels and loaded them up. “Git in with you now, or we won’t git to go -to-night.” - -He hoisted Zaidee and Helen over the side, and gave Kenneth a tremendous -swing right over into the corner. The girls scrambled over the -tail-board. - -“Now, where’s them rambunktious boys?” said Thomas, looking in the -sheds. “Hullo! there, you fellers—I’m a-goin’.” - -The boys had gone to explore the gable of the mill, and were now seen -walking along the ridge-pole. - -“You scallawags!” screamed Thomas, “come down here. I’m a-goin’ -immijit!” - -Archie sat down astride the gable. - -“All right, old Thomas, we’ll be there.” - -His pockets were stuffed with small green apples, as convenient missiles -for any chance mark. He took one out. - -“Bet you, Will, that I can hit old Judge square between the horns,” he -said, taking aim. Straight away sped the bullet-like missile. It missed -its mark, however, and struck old Judge a stinging blow full on his -sensitive nose. - -Old Judge’s temper was none of the best under any circumstances. He -threw up his head with a sudden bellow of pain and rage, and then, -jerking forward, to the surprise of everyone, he started off at a heavy -lumbering run, dragging with him his astonished yokefellow. - -“Whoa, thar,” cried Thomas. “Whoa, ye fool-critters! whoa, thar!” - -He might as well have called to the wind. The clumsy creatures had found -that they could run, and frightened by the noise of the heavy cart, -lumbering at their heels, by the shrieking children, and by the shouts -of the men, bewildered by their own revolt, and the unusual feeling of -liberty, they covered the ground at a swinging pace. - -The cart rolled and pitched and the barrels lurched unsteadily. Then a -spigot, insecurely fastened, and loosened by the jolting, came out of -the bung-hole, followed by a spurting deluge of cider. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - THE RUNAWAY. - - -Poor little Kenneth, well-wedged into the corner, was really in danger -of being seriously hurt by a reeling barrel, and gave vent to steady -howls of terror. Zaidee and Helen clung to each other, and screamed in -concert, as they pitched this way and that. The cart bumped and rattled -along over the rough lane that led down to the mill. - -Eunice and Hilda and Cricket were still sitting, with their feet -swinging over the tail-board, holding on for dear life. - -“Whoa! gee! haw!” shouted Eunice, steadily; but none of them realized -that they were actually in any danger. - -Suddenly the cart gave a tremendous lurch over a big stone, and then up -a high “thank-you-ma’am.” The tail-board gave way, and the astonished -girls were jerked violently forward, and then suddenly found themselves -sitting in the dusty road. And on went the oxen. - -The little ones, still more frightened when they found themselves alone -in the cart, redoubled their howls. They were badly bruised with the -jolting, drenched with cider, and scared out of their little wits. - -“Let’s jump out, too,” screamed Zaidee, wild with terror. - -“I’m ’fraid to,” sobbed Helen. - -“I’m ’fraid to stay here—we—could—roll—out—just—as—easy,” the words -coming in jerks, as the runaway team turned a dangerously sharp corner, -nearly upsetting the reeling cart. - -“I’m going to say my prayers!” said Zaidee, with sudden inspiration. -“Then le’s jump.” - -So Zaidee steadied herself on her poor little battered knees, by the -side of the cart, but she could think of nothing but her little evening -prayer. At the top of her lungs, so “God could hear,” she prayed: - - “Now I lay me down to sleep, - I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep. - If I should die before I wake, - I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take. - And this I ask for Jesus’ sake, Amen!” - -“Come on, Helen!” - -And before they could have said “Jack Robinson,” out they rolled, a -wretched little mixed-up bundle of bewildered arms and legs and bumped -heads, in the dust. And on went the oxen. - -Back in the distance came Thomas’s voice. - -“Whoa, thar! ye fool-critters!” his nearest approach to a “swear-word.” - -Thomas, himself, came lumbering along as heavily, but much less swiftly, -than the runaway pair. - -Cricket and Eunice and Hilda were making the dust fly with their brisk -little heels, as they, too, shouted in steady chorus, “Whoa, Judge! -Whoa, Cap’n! gee! haw!” - -Will and Archie came on at a steady run, adding their yells to the -uproar, and making the terrified oxen sure that they were pursued by -demons. - -Kenneth’s steady shrieks had not lessened in volume, but he was getting -hoarse, and his sobbing breaths came shorter. - -The cart was firm and strong, with closely fitted boards, so the poor -child was now sitting in quite a tossing sea of cider. The fast-emptying -barrel reeled more and more, and the frightened baby beat it with both -hands. - -Now the oxen were well on the home stretch. They had reached the short -steep hill by the farmer’s house. The farmer’s wife, hearing the -shrieks, had run out on the little bridge, and now saw the cart come in -sight at the top of the hill. - -She caught off her blue checked apron, and ran forward flourishing it, -and screaming to her husband,— - -“’Gustus John! ’Gustus John! Jedge and Cap’n are runnin’ away!” - -’Gustus John appeared at the bars. - -“Wal, ye don’t say! Here! run ’em into the brook, ’Mandy, ’n I’ll stop -’em thar.” - -’Mandy—otherwise Mrs. Hecker—waved her blue banner and cried “Whoa!” -“Whoa!” in shrill soprano, heading the oxen off, as they came plunging -down the hill. At the sight of ’Mandy and her apron, they sheered off -into the side-track through the brook; but there stood ’Gustus John, -with a big stick and outstretched arms, barring their way, and shouting -tremendous “Whoas!” in familiar tones. - -Whether the oxen were tired with their unusual exercise, or whether they -simply concluded it was time to stop, I do not know, but Judge and -Captain brought up as suddenly as they had started, and, with quivering -sides and tossing heads, they stood stock-still in the brook. - -In a moment poor little dirty Kenneth was in ’Mandy’s motherly arms, and -shortly after the whole excited group were gathered on the bridge. - -“Nice-lookin’ passel of young uns you air,” commented ’Mandy. “I do vum! -ef you children don’t beat the Dutch. Like as not them oxen would have -run into the brook anyway and upsot the cart, ef I hadn’t hev ben here, -and this little chap would hev ben drownded, sure.” - -“Them children’s regular Jonahses,” grumbled Thomas, in short gasps for -breath. “Never takes ’em nowhere thet suthin doesn’t happen onto some on -’em. I never see oxen run away but once before, and there ain’t no -stoppin’ ’em.” - -“Wonder is that they hain’t all killed,” said ’Gustus John. “It’s a real -meracle that this ’ere little chap didn’t git his head broke with thet -’ere bar’l, a-rollin’ round like a pea in a pod.” - -“Yer ma ’n’ yer pa ’n’ ’Liza hes all ben down here, a-lookin’ fur yer -everywhere,” said Mrs. Hecker. “It’s past seven, an’ they thought you -was lost, sure. Here they be, now;” and down the road came an excited -group of house-people. - -“Oh, where have you been, you naughty, naughty children!” cried mamma, -hurrying on ahead. “We have been so frightened about you.” - -Papa took Kenneth from ’Mandy’s arms and held him up. - -“Well, of all tough specimens! Mamma, this can’t be your young man.” - -Poor Kenneth! his broad-brimmed hat hung down his back, held around his -chin by a soaking wet elastic cord, which left inky stains on his -throat. His sticky curls stood up stiffly in plastered masses, all over -his head. His face was begrimed with dirt and cider and tears. His kilts -hung in festoons from his belt. His stockings were down, dropping over -his shoes. His whole attire was soaking wet, and smelling like a -lager-beer saloon, his father said. - -“This is not your young man,” repeated papa, holding him at arm’s -length, in spite of his struggles. - -“I want my mamma!” wailed Kenneth. “I sought I was a big man, an’ I’se -nossing but a little boy!” - -And mamma hugged her bruised and dirty baby close to her dainty cambric -dress, with a heart so filled with thankfulness as she learned of the -real danger that the little fellow had been in, that she could not give -the girls, then, the lecture that they certainly deserved for their -disobedience, and which their father saw that they had, later. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - GOING BLACKBERRYING. - - -Unusual peace and quiet reigned at Kayuna for a time after the -excitement of the runaway. It was an unusually warm summer, and so even -Cricket, the tireless, was somewhat subdued. Hilda Mason went away for a -visit, and her little friend missed her very much, for, as she said -privately to Eunice, “Hilda was so much willinger to do things than she -used to be.” - -Eunice and Cricket had long planned a blackberrying party when the -blackberries should be in their prime, and mamma said that now would be -just the time to go. The girls had been expecting their little cousin, -Edna Somers, the sister of Will and Archie, to visit them for a week, -and as she arrived on Monday, they decided that the next Wednesday -should be the important day. - -The rest of the party was to consist of Edith Craig, from the Rectory, -Ray Emmons, Phil Howard, and his sister Rose, and Daisy and Harry -Pelham. They planned to get up very early on Wednesday,—oh, by five -o’clock, say,—get an early breakfast of bread and milk from the cook, -have luncheon enough packed for both dinner and supper, and then start -for the blackberry pasture, which was nearly three miles away. - -No one of the children but the Howards and Ray Emmons had ever been -there, but they were sure that they could easily find the way again. -They would go through the woods to the West Road, and then they were -almost there. They would arrive on the spot long before the sun grew -hot, and would pick blackberries for awhile. Then, when they chose, they -would find a nice place and take their luncheon. Then they would rest -awhile, and after that, pick more berries till their pails were full, -and then, finally, start for home, and get there just in time for -another supper, after a lovely, long day. - -The children were all delighted with the idea. They often had small -picnics, but never any so extensive and grown-up as this. - -And then the blackberries! Think of the quarts and bushels they would -bring home! What visions of unlimited jam, and spiced blackberries -without stint, floated before their eyes. - -Papa teased the girls a little. - -“Perhaps I had better send Thomas and the oxen to meet you at the bars? -If they should happen to come home rather fast, you could have -blackberry _jam_ without any trouble,” he said, laughing. Then he -suggested that they should make arrangements with some farmer to take -their extra berries into Boston to sell. - -“We don’t want to be swamped under blackberries, you know,” he added. -Then, of course, the boys had their remarks to make. - -“You’ll have to take Mopsie and Charcoal, and drive around from house to -house to sell your berries,” said Will. - -“Bet you they won’t bring home half a pint between them all,” said -Archie. - -“Better keep off Mr. Trante’s land, anyway. All the best berries grow in -his pasture, and wouldn’t he like to catch you picking them!” said -Donald. “He’s been lying in wait for you children, ever since you -flooded his meadows. Most probably he’d put you all in the lock-up, if -he caught you.” - -This was a sore subject with Eunice and Cricket, and they turned the -conversation by asking mamma what cook should put up for their luncheon. - -“We want a lot,” said Cricket, decidedly. “’Cause we’ll have to have our -dinner, you know, and then we must have enough left for a nice lunch -before we start for home. And have a _lot_ of supper ready, mamma, dear, -’cause we’ll be ’most starved.” - -“That’s on the principle that the more you eat, the hungrier you get,” -said Archie. - -“For goodness’ sake, make them stop with their supper, mother,” said -Donald, “else they will get so hungry they can’t stand it.” - -The children were deaf to all jokes, and preparations for the important -day went merrily on. An excited group of small people met after supper, -on the Wards’ piazza, on the night before, to “make ’rangements.” One -would have thought that they were planning at least a trip to Europe. - -“We girls think we won’t go to sleep at all, to-night,” said Eunice, -with much importance. “We always sit up till nine o’clock, anyway, and -five o’clock will come so soon that it won’t be worth while to get -undressed.” - -“Whatever you do,” called Donald from his hammock, “please see that -Cricket is chained in bed till the proper time. She prefers to get up at -midnight and go downstairs on her head, you know, when early rising is -in question, and that wakes the rest of us up.” - -“Phil’s going to wake me up,” announced Ray. “I’m going to tie a string -to my big toe, and hang the end of the string out of the window, and -Phil will come along and yank it.” - -“Be sure you don’t go without us,” pleaded Daisy. “I’ll have to wake -myself up, and Harry, too, for no one in our house ever gets up so -early.” - -“I’ll run over and wake you up, too,” said Phil, obligingly. “I’ll throw -stones up at your window.” - -They were all to meet at the bars at the entrance of the woods, for the -cart-path through them was much shorter than the distance around by the -road. - -“And we’re not going to have any _children_,” finished Eunice, in the -tone of unutterable scorn that always crushed the twins, who were -eagerly listening to the “’rangements.” - -When nine o’clock came, and Eunice and Cricket and Edna had gone -upstairs, they decided, in spite of previous resolutions, that it might -be better just to lie down for awhile, “though it was not at all worth -while to go to sleep.” So they stretched themselves on the beds, all -dressed, to talk over the coming day. - -“Edna,” said Cricket, presently, after a suspiciously long silence, “my -clothes are all wriggled up, somehow, and I b’lieve I’ll take my dress -off. It won’t take long to put it on in the morning, and I’ll be more -comfortable.” - -“I was just thinking,” agreed Edna, sleepily, “that we’d better take off -our dresses.” - -“I think,” said Eunice, when their dresses were off, “I’ll take off my -skirts, too. They get so twisty.” - -With their skirts removed they lay down again, and began to talk with -renewed zest. Presently conversation flagged again. - -“Cricket,” said Edna, rousing suddenly, “I can’t stand it, and I’m going -to bed, just the same as usual. I don’t think it’s a bit of fun to sit -up all night. Listen! What is that striking? Only ten o’clock!” - -The others, by this time, were more than willing to go to bed in -ordinary fashion, and in ten minutes more, all three little girls were -in the Land of Nod. - -It proved to be a wonderfully prompt little party, for it was only -half-past five o’clock when they all assembled, with well-filled -luncheon-baskets, and empty pails to bring home their blackberries in. - -They were all rather heavy-eyed and quiet at first, to be sure, but they -soon grew wide-awake. It seemed a very new world to the little girls, -who had scarcely ever been up at this hour before, though the boys, from -many a fishing and nutting excursion, were more used to it. - -“Doesn’t it look as if everything had been washed?” said Cricket, -skipping along delightedly. “How the leaves rustle, and how the birds -sing! I’m going to get up every day, after this, at five o’clock.” - -“Bet you, you won’t,” said Ray, sceptically. - -“You’d do it for about two days, and then you’d give it up. Girls never -stick to anything.” - -“Oh, Ray Emmons!” came in an indignant chorus. “Girls stick as well as -boys.” - -“Seems to me that Edith Craig stuck to the head of her jography class -all last winter, and you boys couldn’t help it,” said Daisy Pelham, -triumphantly. - -[Illustration: CRICKET TRYING TO CATCH THE MINNOWS.] - -“Oh, jography! I wasn’t talking about jography. Bet you I can hit that -squirrel, plump,” thinking it better to change the subject. - -When they came to the little brook, a deep pool below a rough bridge -looked so cool and clean that they loitered to throw stones in it, and -scare the minnows gliding around in its transparent depths. Further -down, among the bulrushes, the frogs croaked and jumped. - -“Oh, I say,” cried Harry Pelham, “let’s catch some frogs, and have -frogs’ legs for lunch!” - -“Oh, don’t touch the slimy things,” pleaded Daisy. “They squirm and -squeak so. Do let’s go on.” - -“Are minnows good to eat?” asked Cricket, who was kneeling on the bank, -and looking down into the water. “I b’lieve I could catch them with my -hand.” - -She rolled up her cambric sleeves, and dipped her arm in the water. The -minnows slipped tantalizingly near. A particularly big fellow flashed -by. - -“Oh, what a bouncer!” Cricket cried. She plunged forward, and of course -she lost her balance and went head and shoulders into the water, in the -endeavour to save herself. Phil, who stood nearest, pulled her up, -dripping. - -“Cricket Ward!” exclaimed Eunice, completely disgusted. “I never saw -anything like you. I believe you’d fall into the water if there wasn’t a -saucerful.” - -“I b’lieve I would,” acknowledged Cricket, meekly, rubbing her short, -dripping curls with the boys’ handkerchiefs. - -“You’re pretty wet,” said Edith. “I’m afraid you’ve got to go home.” - -“Oh, no, I won’t,” said Cricket, much surprised at this suggestion. -“I’ll just go round those bushes and wring my waist out, and I’ll get -dry pretty soon, I reckon. My skirt isn’t very wet.” - -“You can put on my sacque, Cricket,” suggested Daisy. “Mamma made me -wear it, and it’s awfully hot. Then you can hang your waist over your -arm to dry, so we can go on.” - -So Cricket and Daisy retired from view for a while. When they returned -the rest of the party set up a shout. Daisy was much shorter than -Cricket, so that the sleeves scarcely came below her elbow, and the -bottom of the sacque hung only an inch or so below her waist. - -“I don’t care,” said Cricket, comfortably. “It covers me up, and my -waist will be dry soon. Do let’s go on. We won’t get to the blackberry -pasture till noon. It must be pretty nearly eleven o’clock now.” - -“Thanks to you, young woman,” answered Harry Pelham, who was older than -the rest. “If you will waste our time falling into brooks—” - -“Well,” said Cricket, “I always did fall into the water, and I ’xpect I -always will. I remember sitting down in a pail of hot water once, when I -was just a teenty little bit of a thing. My! how it hurt! I just cried -and cried. At least the water wasn’t so very hot, for the cook was only -scrubbing the floor. I had run away down to the kitchen. But the pail -was deep, and I was so little, that I doubled together just like a -jack-knife, and the cook laughed so that she could hardly pull me out.” - -The children laughed, too. Harum-scarum Cricket always had accidents -that never would happen to any one else. - -“And you were nearly drowned last summer,” said Edna. “Don’t you -remember up at Lake Clear?” - -“I never heard about that. What was it?” asked Edith. - -“Oh, nothing,” returned Cricket, who never looked upon her adventures as -interesting. “Edna and I went out paddling in a boat. We couldn’t find -but one oar. Edna could paddle, but I didn’t know how, but it looked so -easy that I thought I could do it. So I stood up and took hold of the -oar, and I took one paddle all right and then I put the oar over the -other side, and somehow, I went right over myself. There wasn’t anybody -in sight, but we _hollered_, at least Edna did, and I did when I came -up; then I went down again and when I came up I struck the boat. It was -pretty hard getting in, and I had to climb up over the end. We had lost -the oar, so Edna pulled up the board in the bottom of the boat and she -paddled us ashore. And that’s all, and I wasn’t drowned,” concluded -Cricket, in the most matter-of-fact way. - -“Whew!” whistled Harry. “That was a close call.” - -“It was fortunate I hit the boat when I came up,” assented Cricket, -placidly, “for Edna didn’t have any oar, and it was hard pulling up the -board to paddle with. I ’xpect I might have been drowned, if I’d floated -off, and had had to wait for her.” - -They had been trudging on through the woods while they were talking, and -now they came to where the cart-path forked. - -“Which way do we go?” asked Eunice. - -“This way,” said Rose. - -“No, this way,” contradicted Phil, positively. “I remember that blasted -oak.” - -“Seems to me,” began Rose, doubtfully, “that the blasted oak that I -remember was not at the fork, but close to the edge of the woods. I -don’t think that this is the same tree. I do remember that old beech, -though,” she added, pointing down the right-hand path, “and I think that -that is the way.” - -“No, I’m sure about that blasted oak down _this_ path,” said Phil, “and -I think this is the one to take.” - -“Bet you it is!” put in Ray, supporting Phil, on principle; “I remember -it, too. Come on, boys.” And the children trooped down the left-hand -path, while Rose, though she still looked doubtful, followed the rest. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - COMING HOME. - - -“I don’t know how the rest of you feel, but I’m getting about starved,” -announced Phil, after they had gone some little distance further. “I -vote we have our grub just as soon as we get to the berry-pasture, -before we pick any berries.” - -This proposal was heartily approved of by the entire party. - -“It must be nearly noon, I think,” said Eunice. “We wasted a lot of time -by the brook, you know, and we’ve been walking for _hours_ since.” - -“Hark! there’s the twelve o’clock whistle now,” exclaimed Phil. The -children listened eagerly. It certainly was the distant mill-whistle, -but it was not the noon signal, but, instead, the one for seven o’clock -in the morning. - -“No wonder we are hungry, then,” said Harry. “We all had our breakfasts -at five, and that’s six hours ago.” - -“And we’re nowhere near the berry-pasture yet,” said Rose, hesitating -and looking around. “We ought to have been out of the woods long ago. -Phil Howard, I _know_ we took the wrong turn there by that old oak.” - -The other children looked at one another in despair. - -“Bet you we did!” cried Ray. “I kinder thought this didn’t look right. -Now we’ve got to go back.” - -“Don’t let’s,” said Harry. “If we take this path off this way, it will -bring us back on to the road, I know.” - -“And _I_ say, don’t let’s go another step till we’ve had our grub.” - -Phil gave his advice decidedly, “We can’t get to the pasture, anyway, -till afternoon, and we might as well have our lunch first.” - -“There’s the brook again,” exclaimed Cricket, catching sight of her old -friend, the winding Kayuna, which meandered in every known direction. - -“We can get some water there. I guess I’ll put on my waist now. It’s -’bout dry,” she added, as the mention of the brook brought her mishap to -her mind. - -A pretty little grassy opening just there afforded them a fine place to -sit down for their lunch. Cricket took her pail and went up the brook -after water, and presently returned, arrayed again in her pink cambric -waist, which was very wrinkled and streaky as to the sleeves, and very -damp and sticky as to the collar. - -They spread their luncheon, a very generous one, since it had been -provided, as they had begged, with a view to its serving two meals. But -the boys seemed to be entirely hollow. - -“See here, boys,” exclaimed Edith, in dismay. “You must stop. There -won’t be bread and butter enough for supper, if you keep on, and we must -make it last. Now, Phil, you’ve had five pieces of cake already. You -shan’t have another bit. We’ll pack the rest up now.” Edith being the -eldest of the party, and unusually quiet and dignified for her age, her -words always carried weight. The boys reluctantly suspended operations, -and very unwillingly watched the remainder of the lunch repacked in the -baskets. - -They finally decided not to go back the way they had come, but to take a -cart-path which crossed the one they were on, and which Harry was quite -sure would bring them out on the main road that they wished to strike. - -Their lunch had refreshed them, and they went on, gayly chattering and -laughing. A squirrel-hunt detained them awhile, and then a great patch -of squaw-berries, as the children called the pretty partridge-vine, -attracted them. Then they stumbled on some wintergreen, and stopped to -gather great bunches. - -“Goodness gracious!” exclaimed Cricket, at last. “Boys, I believe it’s -most supper-time, and I’d like to know where that West Road’s gone to.” - -“It’s gone to Melville. That’s where it always goes,” said Harry, -smartly. - -“Since your wits are so sharp,” laughed Edith, “perhaps they’ll help you -to decide which of these two paths we ought to take now.” - -Harry considered. - -“We want to go west,” he said, “and there’s the sun over there, so we’ll -take that path. Jove, boys! Look at that sun! it must be four o’clock. -No berries yet.” - -The little band began to look rather discouraged. - -“We’re like Columbus discovering America,” observed Cricket, cheerfully. -“The farther we go, the more it isn’t there. Let’s keep straight on. -Papa says that the woods aren’t but two miles across, so we will -certainly get out that way.” - -“If once we strike that West Road,” said Harry, “I know where to go -then.” - -“Here are some blackberries!” cried Ray, who was in advance. - -They had come to another open spot, and sure enough, there were some -straggling blackberry vines. - -“Let’s pick these, anyway,” said Edna, “in case we don’t find any more.” - -The children hooted at this idea, but nevertheless, they fell to work. -The berries were hard and dry and half-ripe, but they were—or ought to -have been—blackberries. Their fingers flew, and the hard little berries -rolled into their tin pails with a lively clatter. - -“Ow! ow! ow!” suddenly came in squeals of terror from one of the girls. -“Here’s a snake! a big black snake, and he is eating a little bird!” - -The children rushed to the spot. There, among some tall weeds, lay a -long, slender, whip-like object, black and shining, with raised head. In -its open mouth was a poor little, struggling, half-fledged bird, already -partially swallowed. Above it, the parent birds fluttered and screamed -in agony, sweeping around in short, swift circles. - -The children stood, at first, in fascinated horror. The poor little -birdie slowly disappeared in the yawning mouth, and the children could -see the muscles of the black body work, as the whole undigested mass -slipped slowly down. Then the snake made queer, darting movements with -its head, and this broke the spell for the frightened children. A wild -stampede instantly followed, as they fled, screaming and shrieking. The -few berries, the rest of the lunch, the napkins and the pail-covers flew -in every direction, as the children sped wildly on, thinking that the -snake was in full pursuit. Nor did they stop until Cricket, who, on her -swift feet, led the band, went, head over heels, over a projecting root, -and found herself sitting on the bank of the ever-present Kayuna. - -Then they all brought up, panting and breathless, and rather shamefaced. - -“Ho! what made you girls run so?” asked Phil, recovering himself first. - -“Well, I like that! what made you run so yourself, Mr. Phil? I guess you -were as frightened as anybody,” said Daisy, indignantly. - -“’Fraid? I wasn’t a bit afraid. I just ran after you girls to tell you -there wasn’t any danger, but you ran so fast, and I was tired—” - -“Oh, tired!” chorused the girls, scornfully. “Seems to us you managed to -keep pretty well ahead.” - -“Jove, boys, where do you think we are?” exclaimed Phil, abruptly -changing the subject. - -“We’re just exactly where Cricket fell in the brook this morning.” - -And so they were. Thinking it was afternoon they had turned in the -direction of the sun, meaning to go west. Of course they had really gone -east, since it was still morning, and here they were, not ten minutes’ -walk from home. - -They stood looking at one another in perfect silence. - -“Our whole day wasted,” said Eunice, at length, very soberly. - -“It must be most supper-time, and we haven’t any lunch left,” commented -Harry, surveying the melancholy collection of empty pails and baskets. - -“I’m awful hungry,” sighed Phil. - -No one exactly liked to propose going home, yet what else was there to -do? It was too late, they thought, to start out again in search of -pastures new, and yet, how could they go home and encounter the teasing -that would surely follow the tale of the day’s experience. - -“If only we had _some_ berries!” groaned Rose. - -“That horrid old snake,” said Daisy, looking fearfully around. “We would -have had some, anyway, excepting for his chasing us away.” - -Cricket had been sitting still, where she had tumbled. Now she got up -slowly and picked up her pail and basket. - -“I’m going home,” she said, decidedly. “I think we’ve had a very nice -day, if we didn’t get any blackberries. Papa always buys them, anyway, -of that poor little girl that brings them down from the hills, and she -needs the money.” - -“If Cricket goes,” said Edna, jumping up with great alacrity, “of course -we must all go with her. It must be most supper-time, anyway.” - -The depressed looking group presently found themselves at the edge of -the woods. - -“Well, I do declare!” exclaimed Cricket, stopping short, “if there -aren’t Thomas and the oxen at the bars! Papa has sent him, after all. -Hollo, Thomas, did you come to meet us?” - -Thomas stared as they approached. - -“Wal, now, young uns, I railly thought you were off for all day. What’s -drove you home at this time o’ the mornin’? Gin out arly, seems to me.” - -“Why, no,” answered Cricket, surprised. “It’s the time we meant to come. -Did papa send you for us?” - -“Wal, no, not ’xactly. What should yer pa send for you now, fur? He -kinder thought you wuz a-goin’ to stay all day.” - -“I should think we had stayed all day,” said Harry. “Seems a week since -this morning.” - -“Wal, I rather ’low it’s mornin’ yet,” returned Thomas, equally -surprised. - -“Morning _now_?” came a chorus of voices. “Why, we’ve had our dinner, -and we would have had our supper, only we lost it.” - -Thomas went off in a loud guffaw. - -“Ef you blessed young uns hain’t ben and come home at ten o’clock in the -mornin’!” - -“Ten!” faltered a voice or two. The rest were speechless. - -“To be sure. Thar comes Mr. Archie now. He’s ben a drivin’ the doctor -over to the nine-thirty train.” - -Archie reined up at the sight of the group around the bars. - -“Hello, you fellows!” he called. “Thought you were off for all day. Get -your pails filled so soon? What! no berries!” - -The children glanced shamefacedly at each other. - -“Cricket fell in the brook,” began one. - -“And we lost our way,” said another. - -“And we ate our dinner, and lost our supper,” said a third. - -“And we saw a big, black snake chewing up a little bird—” - -“And we were all afraid and ran,” confessed Cricket. - -“Not afraid!” cried Phil, valiantly. “The girls ran, Arch, and we -fellows had to run after them to tell them there wasn’t any danger. But -we lost all our supper, running,” he added hastily, to prevent -contradiction to his first statement. - -“And then—well,” finished Eunice, in a burst of honesty, “we thought it -was supper-time, Archie; we really did, and Thomas says it’s only ten -o’clock in the morning!” - -Archie shouted at this. - -“So you never found the berry-pasture at all? Haven’t you got a single -berry among you all? Well, by Jove, you are a fine set! Thought it was -supper-time at ten in the morning!” - -The children never heard the end of this joke. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - WHAT ZAIDEE AND HELEN FOUND. - - -Mamma had gone away for a two weeks’ visit to grandmamma, and had taken -little Kenneth with her. Zaidee and Helen felt very lonely without their -small playfellow, for it was the first time they had ever been -separated. The first week seemed very long. Then when nurse began to -comfort them by saying that next week mamma and Kenneth would be at home -again, there came a letter from mamma saying that grandmamma was not -very well, and she would stay another week besides. - -The twins were quite ready to cry. “Next week” seemed like saying “next -year.” But auntie was staying with them still, and as she was mamma’s -own sister herself, and she looked very much like her, this was a great -comfort to the children, for they would try and “play” it was mamma who -spoke to them. But there was no one to take little Kenneth’s place. - -The twins had a favourite playground down by the brook. It was just -below the pool where they had tried to drown the poor little kittens. - -A great oak tree grew there, and the grass underneath was smooth and -green. The brook was very shallow there, and there were plenty of -smooth, round stones which they could easily get out of the water, -without getting themselves at all wet. On the green grass they played -house, marking off the rooms by these round stones. The acorns from the -oak served the purpose of cups for their dolls, and bits of broken china -made fine dishes. They had, at home, a beautiful, real doll’s house, -with the cunningest furniture, and plenty of “really, truly” doll’s -dishes, but they got much more pleasure out of this make-believe house, -marked off with stones. - -Since Kenneth was not at home to be looked after, Eliza often let the -twins go down to the brook to play all by themselves. One morning, after -breakfast, they ran down there as usual. To their great surprise they -found that some one was there before them. - -It was a little boy, about Kenneth’s age. He had on a linen dress and a -broad-brimmed hat. He sat on the edge of the bank, poking a stick into -the water. Where could he have come from? The children were sure they -had never seen him before. - -As the twins approached, he looked up at them with a pair of sober, wide -brown eyes. - -“Oh, Helen! what’s that!” cried Zaidee, in great amazement, stopping -short. - -“It’s a little boy!” exclaimed Helen, as much excited as if she had -found a crocodile. “We’ve finded a little boy!” - -Zaidee ran up to Brown-Eyes. - -“What is your name?” she demanded, eagerly. - -Brown-Eyes answered nothing. He looked at the little girls, gravely, and -the little girls looked at him. - -“Haven’t you any name?” persisted Zaidee. - -“No,” answered Brown-Eyes, briefly. - -“Where do you live?” asked Helen, running round on the other side of -him. - -Brown-Eyes looked all around him, into the sky, into the water, and into -the woods on the other side of the brook. Then he said, “I’m here.” - -“Oh, Helen!” shrieked Zaidee, in great excitement. “He hasn’t any name, -and he doesn’t live anywhere but here, so he’s ours, cause we finded -him, just like the kitty we finded, and auntie let us keep it.” - -Zaidee was very much mixed up in her speech, but Helen understood. She -clapped her hands with joy. - -“Now we’ve got a little boy to play with, ’stead of Kenneth. Let’s keep -him to play with till Kenneth comes home, and then there’ll be two of -him, just the same as there’s two of us.” - -“Can it talk, do you s’pose?” asked Zaidee, walking around Brown-Eyes, -with much interest. For, excepting his two short answers, he had not -spoken at all. - -“I ’xpect he can talk,” returned Helen, “cause he’s got teeth, hasn’t -he?” In her mind the only reason that a baby can’t talk is because it -hasn’t any teeth. Brown-Eyes immediately showed a full set. - -“Yes, he has,” said Helen, triumphantly. “He’s got some up teeth and -some down teeth. Talk, boy.” - -Brown-Eyes only looked at them as silently as before. - -“Poke him,” said Zaidee. “Let’s see if he squeals.” - -She did not mean to hurt him, but she poked him in the stomach rather -harder than she meant. Straightway Brown-Eyes’s little feet flew out -like a wind-mill, and kicked Zaidee so vigorously that she lost her -balance, and nearly rolled into the brook. - -Brown-Eyes still said nothing. - -Zaidee picked herself up with added respect for her little guest. - -“I did not mean to hurt you,” she said, standing at a little distance. -“Do you want to play house with us? Let’s build him a new house, Helen. -Come, boy, you get some stones.” - -The excitement of building the new house soon made the children friends, -and they played together happily, though Brown-Eyes did not grow -talkative. - -At last the little ones grew hungry, and they started for the house, -taking their new playmate with them. - -“Where shall we keep him?” asked Helen, as they trudged up the lane and -across the green lawn. - -“We’d better shut him up for awhile, till he gets used to us,” was -Zaidee’s advice. “That’s the way we did with kitty.” - -“We can put him in the laundry,” suggested Helen. “We put kitty there.” - -As the house stood on the hillside which sloped gently back to the -brook, the kitchen and laundry were down stairs. No one noticed the -children as they went in at the lower door. Cricket and Eunice were off -for a long scamper on their ponies, and Donald and his cousins were away -fishing, while Marjorie had gone into town for the day. - -The laundry, a large, light room, which was on one side of the lower -hall, chanced to be deserted when they went in. - -“Stay here, boy,” said Helen, “and we’ll bring you something to eat, if -you’re good.” - -Brown-Eyes nodded gravely. He immediately sat himself down on the floor, -with his sturdy little feet straight out in front of him, and with his -hands folded in his lap. “I be good,” he said, briefly. He never wasted -his words. - -The twins locked the laundry door and ran across to the kitchen. They -intended to ask if Eliza had their luncheon ready for them upstairs, and -to tell her to get something for the Boy; but cook had just taken from -the oven the most distracting cookies, all in shapes of little pigs. - -“Oh-h!” squealed the children in concert. - -“An’ here’s a plateful fur yer auntie,” said cook. “Be off wid yerself, -an’ don’t come nigh me agin till me floor’s mopped entirely.” - -Off scampered Zaidee and Helen with the cookies, in great delight, and -quite forgot their little prisoner in the laundry. They found auntie on -the cool, vine-covered piazza. - -“What hot little girlies!” she exclaimed, putting back the curly hair -from the warm, shiny little faces. “Eliza,” she called to the nurse, who -passed through the hall at that moment, “take the children upstairs and -wash their hands and faces. Then come back here, little ones, and auntie -will read you a story while you cool off.” - -The twins went very willingly, and soon came back, fresh and sweet. They -perched themselves on the broad arms of auntie’s chair, munching cookies -and rocking comfortably, while auntie read to them. - -Suddenly a nursemaid came running up the avenue. - -“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” she said, breathlessly. “I’m Mrs. Bennett’s -nurse, and she’s lost Phelps. We can’t find him anywhere, and Mrs. -Bennett’s most distracted.” - -The Bennetts were new people, who had lately come for the summer, having -taken a house near by. - -“Is the little boy lost?” asked Mrs. Somers, rising. “No, he has not -been here. When did you miss him?” - -“It’s over two hours since anyone’s seen him, ma’am. I was busy and -thought he was with his ma, and she thought I had him. We didn’t miss -him till about half an hour ago, and we’ve looked everywhere about the -house and grounds. I just thought he might have run in here, ma’am,” -said the frightened maid. - -“He certainly has not been here!” said auntie, “Have you seen Phelps, -children?” - -“No,” they both said, positively. - -They hadn’t seen Phelps. They hadn’t _ever_ seen him. - -“I’m so sorry,” said auntie. “Still he can’t have gone very far. Eliza, -ask Mike or Thomas if they’ve seen the child anywhere around this -morning. Have you been to the village?” - -“Mrs. Bennett’s just gone up there, herself, ma’am,” returned the nurse. -“And the gardener has gone the other way to look for him.” - -Eliza came back and said that Mike had seen such a little fellow further -down the road, near the farm-house, earlier in the morning. - -“P’raps our man has found him, then,” said the nurse, hurrying off, -while auntie sent Eliza again to tell Mike and Thomas to join in the -search. - -“Auntie,” broke out Zaidee, a little while later, “I forgot to tell you -that we’ve got a little boy of our own, down stairs.” - -“A little boy, Zaidee?” said auntie, laying down her book. “What do you -mean?” - -“We finded him, auntie, he’s _ours_,” said Zaidee, earnestly. “Come and -see him.” - -“We finded him down by the brook, in our play-house,” chimed in Helen. -“He’s ours, auntie. He’s awful cunning. We’re going to keep him and feed -him as we did the kitty that we finded once, and when Kenneth comes home -they can be twins, just like us.” - -“But, children,” exclaimed auntie, “it must be Phelps. Where is he? Why -didn’t you speak before? You said you hadn’t seen him.” - -“It isn’t Phelps,” insisted Zaidee. “He’s ours. We _finded_ him. He -hasn’t any name, only just Boy. He doesn’t live anywhere. He said so. -_Please_ let us keep him,” she pleaded. “Mamma let us keep the kitty.” - -“You ridiculous children,” said auntie. “A little boy isn’t like a cat. -Tell me where he is, now.” - -“He’s in the laundry, where we put the kitty. He’s getting used to us. -He’s real good, and he doesn’t cry at all; he won’t be a bit of -trouble!” begged Helen. - -Auntie flew down stairs, the children following, and protesting all the -way against his being sent off. Auntie unlocked the laundry door hastily -and looked in. There sat Master Brown-Eyes, exactly as they had left him -an hour before. - -“Phelps are hungry,” he announced at once, looking reproachfully at the -twins. - -Auntie picked up the patient baby in her arms. - -“You poor little soul!” she exclaimed. But Brown-Eyes resisted strongly. - -“Put me down,” he said, for his dignity was much hurt. - -“Oh, are you going to send him away?” asked Helen, ready to cry. “Please -let us keep him just till Kenneth comes home, then. He’s lots better -than the kitty was.” - -“He certainly is,” said auntie, laughing, “for kitty would not have -stayed there quietly for so long.” - -She was carrying struggling Phelps upstairs, while the twins tagged on -behind. - -“There’s Eliza and the men, now,” auntie said, when, breathless, she -reached the piazza. “Run, Zaidee, and tell them that Phelps is found. -Tell Mike to go to Mrs. Bennett’s and tell her.—There, my little man, -eat some of these cookies and stop kicking.” - -Phelps wriggled out of auntie’s lap, and preferred to eat his cookies, -standing on his own two stout legs, while the twins eyed him, in deep -disappointment. - -Their visitor ate all the cookies there were left, and then he suddenly -said, “I are doin’ home now,” and began to back down the steps in his -own solemn fashion. - -“Oh, Boy!” cried Helen, reproachfully; “you said you didn’t have any -home.” - -Brown-Eyes would not make any reply. He trudged down the avenue soberly. - -“Come, twinnies,” laughed auntie, “we’ll go and look after him and see -that he doesn’t lose himself again.” - -“Boy,” called Zaidee, “will you come and let us find you again?” - -Brown-Eyes nodded, but kept on his way. At the gate they saw a lady -running towards them, from the direction of the village. - -“I are dust comin’ home, mamma,” called Phelps, his fat legs quickening -their rate to a run. - -His mamma caught him in her arms, and this time he was quite content to -nestle in her neck. - -Auntie told her how it had all happened, and, now that the fright was -over, Mrs. Bennett could laugh at the story, and she promised that her -little boy should come and see the twins, even if they could not keep -him as their own. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - MAMIE’S MESSAGE. - - -The doctor’s farmer, ’Gustus John, as everyone called him, stood at his -little white gate, looking down the road. Dr. Ward was coming up from -the village, with his hands full of letters, and ’Gustus wanted to speak -to him. - -“I say,” he drawled, as the doctor came within speaking distance, “I -seen yer comin’, an’ I wanted to tell you about thet new caow o’ yourn, -thet we bought over to the Fair last week. ’T ain’t no bargain, I’m -thinkin’, ’n’ the critter’s all-fired cross. Nigh on to horned me out of -the stable this mornin’. What do you say to fattening her up for beef -straight off?” - -“Just as you like,” returned the doctor, absently, for he had some -important letters in his hand, which he had been glancing at as he -walked. “I never like to have cross animals on the place, lest some -accident might happen with so many children about.” - -“Yes, thet’s another p’int. I’ve kinder been layin’ round for them -little girls o’ yourn, to warn ’em off. They’re proper fond of junketin, -round the barns, but I think p’raps they’d better make themselves skurse -while this critter is in the barnyard. I hevn’t put her out with the -other caows to-day. I’ve got to go to the lower medder this mornin’, and -I hain’t got no more time to waste now. P’raps you’ll see them?” ’Gustus -had a very soft spot in his heart for the doctor’s family, and always -kept a careful lookout for the little girls. - -“I’ll tell them, though it isn’t likely that they will turn up at the -house before dinner,” said the doctor, laughing. “They are very busy -young women, and I haven’t an idea where they are this morning. I’ll -send one of the boys in search of them.” - -“I know where they are,” piped up Mamie, who, as usual, was hopping -around, listening with her sharp little ears. “They’re up the brook, by -the stepping-stones. I seen ’em there this morning.” - -“You kin tell ’em about it, then,” said her father, turning to her. “Jog -along over there, an’ tell ’em that I say there’s an awful fierce cow in -the barnyard, and they better keep out of there till I tell ’em it’s -safe. Come, skedaddle.” And Mamie “skedaddled.” - -The doctor watched her doubtfully as she disappeared around the house. -“Will she tell them?” he asked. - -“She’ll tell ’em fast enough,” answered ’Gustus John. “She’ll admire -to.” - -“I’ll send one of the boys, anyway,” the doctor said. “I don’t want to -run any risks. Yes, do as you like with the cow, if she is really so -cross. She’ll spoil the others. Fatten her for killing, certainly. I’m -sorry, for she is of good stock.” Then the doctor went on up the hill, -reading his letters as he went. Among them he found a note, begging him -to come at once to a house at the other side of the village, on a little -matter of business. So Mike being bidden to harness at once, the doctor -drove off, quite forgetting the cross cow, and that he meant to send one -of the boys with a special message to his little daughters. - -Mamie, meantime, ran across the pasture in high spirits. How delightful -to be able to tell those big girls of something which they must not do! -She began screaming out their names at the top of her lungs, as soon as -she came in sight of them. The girls sat by the brook, busily plaiting -little baskets out of pliant willow twigs. - -“Eunice! Cricket! my pa says you shan’t go in our barnyard to-day, so -there!” - -“Oh, dear me!” sighed Cricket, in deep disgust. “If there isn’t that -horrid little tag-tail again.” - -It was not very often that Mamie ventured on the Kayuna grounds. She had -been warned off too many times, with too many threats of terrible things -happening if she went beyond the farm-yard bounds. This morning her -errand made her bold. - -“Do you hear?” she repeated, in her shrill little voice. “Pa sez he -won’t have you in the barnyard any more. I don’t b’lieve he’ll let you -in the barn either, ’n’ then you can’t jump on the hay ever again.” - -“Well, I like that!” exclaimed Eunice, not very elegantly it must be -confessed. “As if it wasn’t, really, _our_ father’s barn.” - -“Don’t care. My pa kin boss it, ’n’ he’s goin’ to,” returned Mamie, -enjoying her sense of importance, and teasingly keeping back the true -reason of the message. - -“I’ll make ’em good and angry, first,” she thought, in her usual -mischievous spirit. “Pa said you was allers a-junketin’ round. I heerd -him,” she said, aloud. - -“Well, I’d like to know,” said Cricket, angrily, “what right ’Gustus -John has to say what we shall do in those barns. They are my papa’s, and -he just hires your father to look after the farm, Mamie Hecker. And papa -says we may play in the barns as much as we like, if we don’t ’sturb -things, and ’Gustus John says we never ’sturb anything at all. I don’t -b’lieve one word of it. Do you, Eunice?” - -“No, I don’t. But I think,” said Eunice, very slowly and decidedly, “if -you know what’s good for yourself, Mamie, you’ll get off our grounds, -just as fast as you can travel, or else—you’ll see!” - -“You don’t dast spank me again,” cried Mamie, holding up one knee, while -she balanced herself on one foot, “cause your pa told you never to dast -do that again. I ’xpect he’d whip you, if you did.” - -“Whip me!” replied Eunice, scornfully. “Whippings are for bad little -things like you, Mamie; you’d be better if you got a lot more of them.” - -The children never stopped to choose their words when they talked to -Mamie. - -“Anyway,” said Mamie, changing the subject, but with a sudden purpose of -revenge for that spanking coming into her mind, “your own pa said just -so. He and pa was a talkin’ by the gate, an’ pa, he said, ‘wish you’d -hev them girls keep out of the barnyard, for they’re allers a-junketin’ -round.’ Them’s his very words. An’ yer pa, he said, ‘I’ll tell ’em if I -see ’em, but like as not I won’t’; ’n’ my pa, he said, ‘Mamie, go and -tell ’em straight off this minute, that I say keep out of the barnyard;’ -so I come, ’cause my pa an’ your pa, they said to, both on ’em.” - -“For goodness sake, Mamie, go away with your ‘pa’s,’” said Cricket, -impatiently. “You do make me so cross. I don’t believe a word of it. -’Gustus never in his life told us to keep out of the barn.” Long -experience with Mamie made the girls slow to believe anything she stated -for a fact. - -“He said so this time, anyway,” repeated Mamie, much enjoying the girls’ -anger, as she fired stones into the brook to make a splash. “He said he -was a-waitin’ round to warn yer off.” Then she thought, “I won’t tell -’em the reason why, at all, hateful old things, ’n’ then they’ll be -sorry.” - -It must be remembered that rude as Cricket and Eunice now certainly were -to the child, it was only that a long time of bearing Mamie’s teasing, -provoking ways had brought them to speaking to her as they did. They -scorned to tell tales, and the elders had no idea how tormenting Mamie -always was. “Worse than skeeters,” Cricket said. - -Mamie knew precisely the effect that her words would probably have. -Without doubt, the girls would go to the barns sometime that day, and if -they should get hooked—just a little—by that cross old cow, wouldn’t -they be well paid up for spanking her that day. Of course it wouldn’t be -her fault, for she had told them to keep away. - -“You’ve got to keep out of our ba-arn! You’ve got to keep out of our -ba-arn!” she repeated, in a sing-song voice, firing a particularly big -stone into the water, having aimed it with great care close to where -Eunice was sitting. The water splashed up, spattering her well. - -“You mean little thing!” Eunice cried, springing up in a fury. Mamie had -already darted away, and was flying across the meadows like a little -brown spider. She rolled under the fence just as Eunice was upon her. - -“You dassent tetch me now!” she gasped, panting for breath. “I’m on my -pa’s land.” - -“Lucky for you,” said Eunice, wrathfully. “If you come over here again -I’ll take you up to my father, if Cricket and I have to drag you every -step of the way. Now mind!” - -“Oh, dear, very smart you are!” jeered Mamie, safe on her side of the -fence. “I expect you’d like to tear me into limbs. But you’ll be sorry -if you don’t keep out of my pa’s barns,” she added, edging off. - -“They’re my father’s barns, and I’ll go in them just as much as I -please,” answered Eunice, turning away with much dignity, now that she -had driven Mamie well off the grounds. - -“What can she have meant by all that nonsense, Cricket, do you think?” -she said, seating herself again. “The idea of ’Gustus John telling us to -keep out of the barns! He would as soon think of telling us to keep out -of our own stables,” she added. - -“Why, I think she just wanted to plague us, and couldn’t think of -anything else to say,” answered Cricket. “Eunice, I do b’lieve we -haven’t been down to the barns this week. Let’s go by-and-by, and jump -on the hay.” - -“All right. Let’s go now,” said Eunice, jumping up. “I feel just like -it. I’m stiff sitting still so long.” And accordingly, down went the -willow baskets, and off ran the two little maids. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - THE NEW COW. - - -The warm sunshine lay full on the great barnyard, and the silence of a -summer morning in the country lay over everything. The farmhands were -off at work, and the wide barn-doors stood open. The air was full of the -sweet, warm odour of drying hay. - -The children loved the big, rambling barn, with its dark, dusky corners, -and they would play there by the hour. They would climb up the steep -ladders, walk fearlessly across the big beams, and, with a wild whoop, -would plunge downward on the mass of soft, sweet-smelling hay beneath. - -Cricket had learned to achieve a somersault while in mid-air, and was -very proud of this accomplishment. Then such places for hide-and-seek, -when they could coax the boys to join them, did the dim corners afford! -Such a famous place it was in which to play “Indians,” for they could -barricade themselves behind mounds of hay, and fire a scattering shot of -grain at the enemy who besieged them. The front doors of the barn were -level with the lane, but behind it, where the barnyard was, the ground -fell sharply, so that the same floor was a second story, beneath which -the cow-stables lay. At the back of the barn, opposite the front door, -was another wide door, opening on the cowyard, ten feet below, so that a -wagon backed up there could easily be loaded from above. - -Fortunately, ’Gustus John was good-nature itself, and “admired to hev -the children enjoy themselves,” as he often said. In all their capers, -he had never been known to say anything stronger than, “Wal, I do vum! I -never see sech goin’s-on.” It was for this reason that Eunice and -Cricket did not in the least believe Mamie when she said that her father -had sent her to tell them not to go into the barnyard that day. If the -child had told them the reason why, they would not have thought of -going, for, with all their faults, they were rarely directly -disobedient. They were too well-trained for that. Dr. Ward believed in -letting the children run wild all summer, while they were in the -country, and there were but two things he was severe with: disobedience -and the want of truth. - -As the girls came up, the barnyard was quite deserted except for one -peaceful-looking cow who stood quietly chewing her cud in a shady -corner. A few stray hens and chickens clucked and scratched in the -straw. Not another sound was to be heard. Even Mamie was not in sight. - -“I wonder where that bad little thing is?” said Cricket, looking around, -and half expecting a shower of pebbles, by way of greeting. - -“Expect she’s gone to mourn for her sins,” said Eunice. - -“That will take her some time,” laughed Cricket, “and so we’ll have a -little peace. Isn’t that the new cow ’Gustus John bought last week at -the Fair? I wonder why it isn’t in the pasture with the rest.” - -“I don’t know. Oh, Cricket, what lovely boards!” exclaimed Eunice. “I -suppose ’Gustus has them for his new hen-house. Let’s take one of them -and see-saw.” - -“Oh, goody, let’s!” and the little girls soon had one of the long new -boards down from the pile. See-saw was an old amusement, and their -favourite place to balance the board was across one of the open spaces -in the barnyard fence. One little girl would go inside the yard and the -other would stay outside. - -“See how funny that cow stands?” said Cricket, as she unfastened the -gate and went into the barnyard, in order to pull the board through as -Eunice pushed it from the other side. - -The cow stood with her head lowered and her tail moving restlessly, -watching the children’s movements. Cricket, however, too used to cows to -fear them, did not notice her further, and drew the board to the right -position to balance. Then with much squealing and laughing—little-girl -fashion—the two seated themselves, and the fun began. - -“See-saw! see-saw! here we go up and down,” sang the children gayly, as -Cricket’s head rose above the fence and Eunice went down. They did not -see Mamie peeping at them from the barn-door that opened above the -cowyard, and they rather wondered at her unusual absence. - -“It’s just lovely to have that Mamie out of the way,” remarked Cricket, -as she went up again. - -“Too good to last,” returned Eunice. - -At this moment a scream came from the barn-door above them. - -“Oh, Cricket, look out for the new cow!” but too late came Mamie’s -warning. The new cow, frantic at the strange sight of a bright-coloured -spot moving up and down before her very eyes, with a rush bolted across -the yard and caught the descending board right on her horns. The next -second Cricket was spinning through the air and came down against Eunice -with a force that stunned them both. - -A sudden peal of impish laughter rang out from the barn, changing almost -instantly to a shrill cry of terror. Mamie, hopping about, as usual, on -one foot, had lost her balance, and plunged downward, head-foremost. - -The shrill cries still continued when Cricket, a few moments after, sat -up slowly and looked around her. - -“Why, what in the world—” she began, pushing back her curly mop with -both hands, in the greatest bewilderment,—then she looked down at -Eunice, who lay white and unconscious on the ground. The back of her -head had struck sharply against a stone, for she had caught the full -force of Cricket’s fall. The latter, consequently, had escaped being -seriously hurt. - -[Illustration: CRICKET FINDS EUNICE UNCONSCIOUS.] - -“Eunice!” cried Cricket, wild with terror, “speak to me! What’s the -matter, Eunice?” and she tried to lift her sister in her arms. She had -never seen unconsciousness before, and for one terrible moment she -thought that she was dead. Eunice, at the movement, opened her eyes and -tried to speak. - -Meanwhile Mamie’s cries were ringing out,— - -“Ow! ow! Cricket, come take me off! she’s a-hooking my feet!” - -As Eunice stirred, Cricket turned, and even in her terror and excitement -she laughed at the sight she saw. Mamie had lost her balance and plunged -forward, but as she went over the sill, her stout gingham frock caught -on a projecting nail a few inches down, and there she still hung, arms -waving and legs wildly kicking, and sending out shriek after shriek. -Below, the ugly cow was lowering her head and striking at the dangling -feet, every now and then hitting them. “Pull me up, Cricket!” Mamie -screamed, nearly in convulsions of terror, her struggling making the -matter still worse. - -As Cricket rose unsteadily to her feet, and saw the situation, the whole -thing flashed into her quick brain. Mamie had been sent to tell them to -keep out of the barnyard, because the new cow was ugly, and she had -purposely given only half the message. And here was Eunice half-killed -as a result. Of her own bruises she never thought. - -“I don’t care!” she screamed, passionately, in answer to Mamie’s -shrieks. “I don’t care if you’re all hooked up! You’ve killed my Eunice, -and I hope you are satisfied,” and she knelt by her sister again. - -“I’ll never be bad any more,” shrieked Mamie, at the top of her lungs. -“Help—me—up,—Cricket.” - -“I don’t care,” repeated Cricket, angrily, but really scarcely knowing -whether to run for help, or stay with Eunice, or help Mamie. “That -hateful, hateful little thing! Serves her right.” - -But in a moment Cricket’s better self came to the front, at Mamie’s last -piercing cry,— - -“Ow! ow! she’s hurt my foot awful!” - -Cricket sprang up and ran around to the barn-door. Her knee was cut and -bleeding, but she did not heed it. She darted across the barn floor to -the door at the back. It was not an easy matter to decide what she was -to do, for Mamie, though she was slight and small, would be a dead -weight on her as she pulled her up, and then also, she suddenly -discovered that her left shoulder was strained and sore. But there was -no time to hesitate, for Mamie’s position was dangerous as well as -absurd. Her struggles might release her dress at any moment, and those -angry horns and hoofs were waiting below. - -Cricket grasped a stout, wooden staple at the side of the door-frame -with her right hand, and, bending far over, she slipped her left arm -around Mamie’s waist. Mamie clutched her instantly. - -“Stop wiggling,” said Cricket, sharply. It was no small task for her, -with her strained arm, to bring Mamie up even those ten inches, but with -a desperate effort she drew her up to a sitting position on the -door-sill, so the child could scramble in herself. For one second she -felt as if her arm was being dragged out of her body, and only long -practice in swinging off limbs of trees, and drawing herself up again, -had made her muscles equal to the strain. - -Mamie climbed in, and then stood perfectly still, for once, with nothing -to say, looking at Cricket out of the tail of her eye. If Cricket had -fallen on her and thrashed her soundly, she would have taken it without -a murmur. But Cricket, of course, had no such idea. She stood for a -moment, looking at her small enemy in silence, and then raced out of the -barn, back to her beloved Eunice. She found her sitting up and looking -very dazed and white. She had not the least idea what had happened to -them, and was too confused to ask. - -“Do you feel as if you could walk home?” asked Cricket, putting her arm -very tenderly around her; “or will you stay here while I go for Mike to -bring you home in the carriage? Or do you want to go into the -farm-house, and get ’Manda to give you something?” - -“I think—I’ll—go home,” said Eunice, her nerves decidedly shaken, and -her head still dizzy from the effects of the blow. “I’ll—try—to walk.” - -Cricket helped her up, and put her arm about her to steady her. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - MAMIE’S REPENTANCE. - - -Mamie went sneaking past them to the house and went into the kitchen -where her mother was at work. - -“Oh, ma!” she cried. “The girls has been in the barnyard where that -cross cow is, ’n’ Cricket got knocked over the fence, and Eunice is most -killed I guess, ’n’ I don’t b’lieve she kin walk home.” - -“Got hooked! Law ful suz! You don’t say so!” and ’Manda hurriedly wiped -her hands and ran out to the lane. The barn was not far from the house, -but the kitchen was on the further side, so she had not noticed the -children’s screams. - -She ran to meet the girls and caught Eunice up in her strong arms. “You -poor little dear,” she exclaimed. “I’ll carry you right along myself. -Here, Cricket, you hang on to me too;” for Cricket was limping by this -time, with her knee aching more every minute. - -’Manda was very comforting, for she was too used to the children’s -mishaps even to ask how things had happened. “Come in and rest a spell,” -she coaxed, “and let me put some hot water on your head, poor dear.” - -“I want to go home,” repeated Eunice, still half-crying. - -“Well, so you shall, an’ I’ll carry you right up there, myself. ’Course -yer ma’s yer best friend when you’re hurt. Hi! there goes the doctor -now! Hi! Hi!” - -Dr. Ward, returning from his call, drew up his horse as he crossed the -little bridge at the sound of the cry. - -“Suthin’ happened, just the same as usual, doctor,” ’Manda said, as the -party came up, with Mamie well in the rear. - -The doctor sprang out of his buggy, looking rather anxious. There were -certainly drawbacks to having a pair of romps for daughters. - -He hastily took Eunice in his arms. - -“What is the matter, dear. Did you fall?” - -“Not—not exactly,” said Eunice. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but -somehow Cricket flew over the fence, and fell on top of me, and—and I -think my head knocked into a stone, and my back hurts too.” - -“Flew over the fence? What do you mean?” - -“That old cow hooked me over,” flashed out Cricket. “We were see-sawing, -just peaceably, and the old thing came up behind me and boosted me right -over the fence, and ’course I fell on Eunice pretty hard, and we got all -mixed up with the end of the boards and some stones. Eunice is more hurt -than I am, though.” - -“The _cow_,” said the doctor, looking suddenly stern. “Did you go into -the barnyard?” - -“Yes, sir, we always do, you know.” - -“Didn’t you get my message?” - -“Yes—but—well, I didn’t really believe Mamie, ’cause she didn’t say -why,” burst out Cricket, after a moment’s hesitation. “And we always go -in the barns whenever we wish, and ’Gustus John never says a word. And -oh, dear! I do feel as if the socket was pulled out of my arm.” And -Cricket, between excitement and pain, burst out crying. - -Her father had gathered enough from her story to feel sure that there -had been no real disobedience, and seeing the children’s nervousness and -pain, he put them both into the buggy, and as speedily as possible gave -them over into the care of mamma and nurse. - -It was several days before Eunice was herself again, for she had really -had a hard blow both on the back and head, and for two days she was -actually willing to remain in bed. She really very seldom met with -accidents, for she was not by nature nearly so much of a romp as her -younger sister, and was far less rash and heedless. - -Cricket was as chirpy as ever the next day. Her knee was bound up and -she hobbled about, rather enjoying the attention she received. Her left -arm was somewhat stiff and lame, for she had hit her left side with -considerable force as she landed, although her striking Eunice had -somewhat broken her fall. - -The whole story had come out, and, as usual, Cricket had to undergo a -fire of teasing. - -“A girl with the sockets pulled out of her arms ought to go to the Dime -Museum,” laughed papa, as they all sat on the piazza that evening after -supper. “She’s a natural curiosity.” - -“If I’m a natural curiosity, then I wish I were an unnatural one. I -don’t think I’m nice a bit,” said Cricket, candidly. “Things never -happen to Eunice and Hilda, if I’m not along. Just think, if I hadn’t -hit Eunice she wouldn’t have been hurt a bit,” for Cricket took her -sister’s injuries very much to heart. - -“You always have such romantic accidents,” teased Donald. “Think how -thrilling it is to be run away with by a raging span of oxen, and fancy -the excitement of being tossed by the cow with a crumpled horn!” - -“I really should think you wouldn’t care to look a piece of beef in the -face,” laughed Will. - -“Plant Cricket and what would she come up,” asked Archie, and Cricket -herself answered, quickly,— - -“Cow-slip. That’s good. Ask another one.” - -“Can’t; you’re too bright.” - -“I’d have given a sixpence to see Mamie Hecker dangling on that hook,” -said Will. “Little imp!” - -“It wasn’t very funny to fish her up,” said Cricket, seriously, “for it -_did_ pull the sockets out of my arm. Why isn’t that right to say, -papa!” - -“Because your arms are put in the sockets, my dear, not the sockets in -your arms.” - -“Oh! well, I hope it will teach Mamie a lesson; and the next time she -has a message to give, I hope she’ll give it.” - -“What do you think!” exclaimed Marjorie. “Here’s Mamie Hecker coming up -the avenue now.” - -Sure enough, there was Mamie in her stiffly-starched best white dress, -and her Sunday hat on her head, coming very slowly up towards the house. -This was very unusual, for Mamie knew her bounds. The family watched her -with interest to see what she meant to do. - -Cricket slipped hastily behind mamma. “I don’t want to see her,” she -said, impatiently. - -Mamie came awkwardly to the foot of the steps. - -“Is Cricket here?” she asked, with a very unusual shyness in her manner, -which was partly due to the fact that she had on her best clothes on a -week-day. - -Cricket came unwillingly forward in obedience to mamma’s touch. - -“I want to speak to you,” Mamie said, still shyly. - -Cricket came slowly down the steps, half expecting some trick, since she -knew Mamie’s ways so well. But the child was in earnest this time. She -stood uneasily, first on one foot and then on the other, not quite -knowing how to say what she wanted to. - -“See here,” she burst out, at length. “I’ve brought you those,” holding -out a brown paper bag. “Ma said I might. I bought ’em with the five -cents that the minister give me. An’—an’—I’m awful sorry I didn’t tell -you ’bout the cow right straight off,—an’—I’m not goin’ to tag you any -more.” - -Cricket took the bag that the child held toward her. - -“Why, Mamie, you shouldn’t have spent your five cents for me,” began -Cricket, shy in her turn, and hardly knowing what to say. “But it’s very -good of you.” - -“I told my ma ’n’ pa ’bout my not telling you, and they was awful took -back. Pa said you might have been killed. An’ then you went and pulled -me up with that lame arm of yourn,” Mamie went on, in a lower tone, -putting out one finger to touch Cricket’s left arm, of which the fingers -were still a little stiff and swollen. “I ain’t forgot that. I’m a-goin’ -to be gooder all the time, now,” and here Mamie, quite overcome by her -feelings, gave the brown paper bag in Cricket’s hand, a final pat, and, -turning around, scampered away to the gates as fast as her feet could -carry her. - -“Well, I say!” Donald exclaimed, as Cricket, still looking very much -amazed, came up the steps. “I should call that a case of clear -repentance. Real article.” - -“I’ve hopes of Mamie, now,” said Marjorie. - -“That certainly is very touching,” said mamma, gently. - -“Cricket, you fished to some purpose when you brought up Mamie from the -depths,” added Will. - -“Whatever has she brought as a peace-offering?” asked Archie, curiously. - -Cricket opened the bag and displayed five chocolate mice. - -“If they were only cows, now,” shouted Will. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - WHEN MAMMA WAS A LITTLE GIRL. - - -The next morning rather dragged. Eunice was up and about again, though -she looked a trifle pale, and did not feel in the mood even for a drive. -Cricket went out for a short time with Mopsie, and took the twins with -her, but she soon came back, finding that the motion of the pony-cart -made her arm ache. - -Mamma and auntie were sitting on the piazza under the vines, with their -embroidery, and Cricket found Eunice there, also, comfortably settled in -the broad Mexican hammock. - -“Come here, Cricket,” Eunice called, “for mamma is going to tell us -stories.” - -“Goody!” cried Cricket, skipping up joyfully, in spite of her stiff -knee. - -Was there ever a child to whom mamma’s stories were not a mine of -delight? - -“Curl up in the other hammock, pet,” said mamma, “and rest while we -talk. You don’t look like my Cricket, yet.” - -Cricket stopped to give mamma one of her bear-squeezes,—for she looked -so cool and sweet and pretty to her little girl, as she sat in her low -chair,—and then she climbed into another hammock, and settled herself -comfortably to listen. - -“What shall I tell you about?” asked mamma, ready to begin. “I think -I’ve told you every single thing I ever did, when I was a little girl.” - -“Tell us _anything_,” said the children, in chorus. “Never mind if you -have told it before.” - -“Let me see. Did I ever tell you about my first lie? Indeed, my only -one, for that matter.” - -“Why, mamma!” cried Cricket, in great surprise. “Did you ever tell a -story? I didn’t know that little girls ever used to do that. I thought -they were all so good.” - -“This happened when I was a very little girl, dear. Do you remember,” -mamma asked auntie, “that little lilac print dress I had when I was -about five years old? It was such a pretty little dress.” - -“I remember the dress very well, and what happened the first time you -wore it,” laughed auntie. - -“Yes, that’s the time I mean. Well, children, I had on this little new -dress, of which I was very proud. It was an afternoon in early spring, -and it was the first cambric dress that I had had on that season, so I -felt particularly fine in it. Auntie Jean and I ran out to play. You -remember, don’t you, children, how the house and barns at your -grandfather’s are, and how steep the little hill back of the barn is? It -was all green and grassy, and we loved to play there. Jean’s new dress -was not quite finished, so she had on her regular little afternoon -frock, and I felt prouder than ever of mine. I plumed myself so much, -that finally Jean wouldn’t play with me. I know I made myself very -disagreeable,” added mamma, smiling. - -“There were barrels and boxes back of the barn, where we used to play -house. I got up on one of the boxes, after a time, when Jean left me to -myself, and I began jumping off it. Jean was arranging the play-house -near by. The hill, with its short, green grass, looked very inviting to -me, and presently I called to Jean, ‘I dare jump off this box, and roll -right down the hill over and over.’ - -“‘I wouldn’t,’ Jean said, very pleasantly, ‘you might spoil your new -dress.’ She really meant to advise me not to do it, but I thought that -she meant that I was afraid of my new frock. - -“‘Yes, I dare, too, and I will,’ I said, and off I jumped and rolled -sideways down the hill, over and over. It had rained in the night, and, -though the hill was dry, the water had collected in a little hollow at -the foot, which I did not notice on account of the grass. Through this I -rolled, splash.” - -“Just like me,” remarked Cricket, with much interest. “Eunice says I’d -tumble into the water, if there wasn’t a saucerful around.” - -“Yes, very much like you,” returned mamma, smiling. “When I got up, my -pretty little lilac frock, of course, was all draggled and stained.” - -“What an object you looked!” laughed auntie, “and how angry you were!” - -“Yes,” said mamma, laughing, also. “That was the funny part of it. I was -so angry, but I’m sure I don’t know who with. I felt that _somebody_ was -very much to blame, but I wasn’t at all willing to say that that -somebody was my naughty little self. I got up, and looked down at my -dress. Then I called out angrily, ‘See what you’ve done, Jean Maxwell,’ -as I stood at the foot of the hill. Jean looked at me as I came climbing -up, scolding all the way, and then she burst out laughing. I suppose I -was a very funny object, but I didn’t feel funny at all.” - -“It was funny enough to hear you scold, and that was principally what I -was laughing at,” said auntie. - -“I dare say,” answered mamma. “By the time I reached the top of the hill -I was in a great rage. I used to get into rages very easily, then.” - -“_You_, mamma?” Eunice looked as if she could scarcely believe it. - -“Yes, my dear, I wasn’t always a good little girl in those days. ‘I’m -going to tell mother what a naughty girl you are, Jean,’ I half-sobbed. - -“‘What a naughty girl _I_ am? You’d better tell her what a naughty girl -you are yourself, rolling down hill, and getting your dress all dirty,’ -Jean said, getting angry in her turn. Then she went on with her -play-house and wouldn’t speak to me any more. I ran crying towards the -house. Before I got there, I had quite made up my mind that it was -certainly all Jean’s fault, somehow, and that if it hadn’t been for what -she said, I shouldn’t have rolled down the hill in the first place, and -so I shouldn’t have spoiled my new dress. - -“I burst into the sitting-room, where your grandmother sat sewing. You -know what a lovely old lady grandma is now, children, with her white -puffs and dark eyes, and she was just as lovely then, when her hair was -black. She looked up, as I rushed in panting. - -“‘Gently, gently, little daughter,’ she said. ‘What _has_ happened to -your new frock, my dear? oh, what a sight you are!’ - -“Now I knew very well that grandma wouldn’t have punished me for -spoiling the dress, for after all, it was an accident. I had often -rolled down that hill before, and no harm had come of it. So I don’t, in -the least, know what made me say it, excepting that I was so angry, but -almost before I realized it, I was saying very fast, ‘mother, Jean was -angry because I had on my new frock and she hadn’t, and so, when I was -just standing on a box, suddenly she came behind me, and pushed me over -as hard as she could, and I rolled down the hill, and rolled right -through some water, and so I’ve spoiled my new dress.’ I was so excited -that it never occurred to mother that I was not speaking the truth. I -was so little—only five years old,—and I had never told her a lie -before. - -“‘Why! why!’ she exclaimed, laying down her work, and getting up. ‘I am -surprised that Jean should do that. Come upstairs with me, and I will -change your dress.’ That was all she said to me then, for mother never -scolded at one child for what another one did, as I have heard some -mothers do, and of course she thought this was Jean’s fault. So she took -me upstairs to the big nursery and took off my dress. - -“‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, ‘that your pretty little dress is spoiled. -Now, it will have to go straight to the wash, and it won’t look so -pretty again.’ - -“‘That naughty Jean!’ I ventured to say, growing bolder. - -“‘Hush, my dear,’ said grandma, ‘I will talk to Jean. I dare say she did -not mean to push you so hard.’” - -“But I should think, mamma,” broke in Eunice, “that you would have -thought that Jean would come in any minute, and say she hadn’t done it -at all.” - -“Of course, I was a very silly little girl not to think of that,” -answered mamma, “but it shows that I wasn’t used to deceiving. I never -thought of the consequences. Somehow, too, by that time, I felt quite -certain that I was telling the exact truth, and I entirely forgot that -Jean would soon be in to say she hadn’t touched me. - -“Well, only a few minutes after that, Jean came into the house, and ran -quickly upstairs to the nursery. I was still running around in my little -white petticoat and under-waist, while mother went to the clothes-press, -to get a dress for me. You know that big carved wardrobe that still -stands by grandma’s door in the hall? The one your grandpa brought home -in one of his voyages? Well, it was that very one. Grandma came back, as -Jean came in singing. She looked so entirely unconcerned that I think -mother was surprised. - -“‘Jean,’ she said, coming in and holding out her hand to her, ‘how could -you do such a naughty thing as to push your little sister so hard that -she fell off the box, and rolled down the hill?’ - -“I can see your look of surprise now, Jean,” said mamma, turning to -auntie, “as you stopped short and said, ‘Pushed her off the box? why, I -didn’t! she jumped off herself.’ - -“Grandma looked from one to the other of us. - -“‘What is this?’ she said. ‘One or the other of you is telling me what -isn’t true.’ I shall never forget her look of grieved surprise. It must -have been difficult for her to decide which was the guilty one, at -first, for I felt that I must stick to what I had said. All my anger -came back, and I jumped up and down, screaming, ‘you pushed me off, Jean -Maxwell! you pushed me off.’ - -“‘Mother, I _didn’t_!’ Jean said. ‘Please believe me, for you know I -wouldn’t do such a thing.’ Really, it would have been much more like me, -for I had a quick temper, and I was always losing it. - -“‘Margaret,’ said mother, taking hold of my hands, ‘stand still and tell -me the exact truth. Did Jean push you off the box, or did you jump?’ - -“‘Jean pushed,’ I began, but I could not look into mother’s eyes, and -tell her a lie again. ‘Anyhow,’ I said, half-crying, ‘she wanted to push -me!’ - -“‘Tell me the truth, Margaret,’ mother said. ‘Did Jean touch you at -all?’ - -“‘No,’ I said, unwillingly. - -“‘Did she even say she was going to?’ - -“‘No!’ I cried, ‘for she would not speak to me.’ - -“‘Then why did you say that she wanted to push you off? Did she ever do -such a thing?’ - -“‘No, never!’ I admitted, and then I began to feel very much ashamed of -myself, for my anger never lasted long. - -“Then mother said, ‘Very well, Jean, I quite understand the matter now.’ -Then she sent her away, and talked to me for a long time. She questioned -me closely, and learned that I was the only one to blame. She made me -understand what a dreadful thing it was to tell even a little lie, and -how telling little ones would lead to a habit, so that one might say -what was not true in very important matters. Altogether, I was very -repentant, and promised never to tell another lie about anything, and I -believe I never did. The soap and water helped me remember it.” - -“What was the soap and water?” asked Cricket. - -“Why, my mother said, when she had finished talking to me, that she -couldn’t kiss the little mouth that had let such a dreadful thing as a -lie come through it, till it was all clean again,—and the only way to -clean it was to wash it out. So she really did wash my mouth out -thoroughly with Castile soap and water, and all the time she made me -feel that it was not so much for a punishment, as really to make my -mouth clean after the lie. - -“Grandma seldom punished us, but somehow we always felt the consequences -of our naughty deeds. And as I said, I think I never told another -story.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - MAMMA’S BANK. - - -“How funny it is to think of your telling a lie!” exclaimed Cricket. “I -never heard about that before. Tell us another one.” - -“Do you remember, Margaret,” asked auntie of mamma, “how we put our -money in the bank?” - -“Indeed, I do,” laughed mamma. “What disappointed children we were!” - -“What was that?” the children asked, eagerly. - -“It isn’t much of a story, I think, only it was funny. I was about six -and Jean was eight, weren’t we? Some friend of my mother’s came to visit -her for a few days, and brought her little daughter with her. Do you -remember that little Cecilia, Jean?” - -“I should think I did! I remember her distinctly, although we never saw -her again. She was such a prim little thing, with long, light curls—such -cork-screw curls! She wore a silk dress, and didn’t like to do anything -but sit in the parlour and keep herself trim.” - -“But we children admired her immensely,” said mamma. “We thought that -her name was beautiful—Cecilia. She said her mother found it in a book. -We loved to race about and romp as much as you children do, but she -didn’t know how to play anything. She was a little older than we were, -and would tell us long stories about her home. One thing impressed us -especially. She asked us if we had any money in the bank, and we said, -‘None at all,’ in much surprise at the question. - -“‘I have three hundred dollars in the bank,’ she said, proudly, ‘and my -father’s going to leave it there till I’m twenty-one, and put in one -hundred more every year. It will grow to be a lot of money when I’m a -young lady. Then I’m going to buy wedding clothes with it.’ - -“This was entirely new talk to Jean and me. We had heard of banks, of -course, but we had never really thought what they were. Cecilia’s words -puzzled us, for awhile, although we did not ask her any questions -further about it. - -“The word ‘bank’ only meant to us a literal bank,—a sand-bank. Do you -remember, children, those long sand-banks back of the shore, on the -other side of grandpa’s orchard? They are just within his fence, you -know. Well, we thought that Cecilia surely meant just such a place as -that. After she was gone we talked the matter over very seriously. -Cecilia’s money seemed like untold wealth to us, and of course we would -have nothing like that to start with, but we decided that we would take -what we had and put it in the bank. - -“We opened our chamois bags to count our money. We used to put in them -any pennies that remained of our weekly five cents, and extra bits that -would come in our way. Putting this in the bank meant, to us, digging a -hole in the sand-bank, and burying the money in it. Then in some strange -way, which we didn’t at all understand, the money would ‘grow,’ as -Cecilia said, and by-and-by we would have a great deal more. I think we -thought of its growing as the roots of a tree grow. Do you remember, -Jean, how grand we felt, emptying our chamois-skin bags, and counting -our pennies?” - -“Indeed, yes,” said auntie. “It was getting near the County Fair time, -to which we were always taken, and for which we had been saving our -pennies eagerly. There seemed such a lot of them.” - -“How many and shining they looked!” went on mamma. “We took our bags, -one day, and a little shovel, and started out. We did not tell grandma, -because we thought that we would like to surprise her some day with a -big pile of gold dollars, which, for some reason, we had made up our -minds would be our crop. How earnest and sincere we were!” - -“We certainly were,” said auntie, smiling. “I wish I could remember just -how I thought that the money would ‘grow’ in the bank, but I am not sure -whether I thought it would spring up like a plant, and we would pick the -dollars, or whether we thought it would just spread in the ground. -Mother often used to say to us, when we wanted something that was very -absurd, ‘I’ll buy it for you when I can pick gold dollars off the -rosebush.’ Perhaps that gave us the idea.” - -Then mamma took up the story again. - -“We travelled off with our money-bags, and when we got to the -sand-banks, we selected a nice, smooth place, and dug a deep hole. Then -we laid our chamois-skin bags carefully in. Oh, I believe we wrapped -them in newspaper first, didn’t we? We covered them all up evenly, and -stuck two sticks down to mark the place, and then, feeling very rich, we -trotted home. - -“For a week after this we made a trip down there every day, in great -excitement, and every day we came slowly back, much disappointed that -there were no signs of growth. Once we dug down and uncovered our bags, -to see if they had struck roots yet, but we were much discouraged to -find them only mouldy and damp, but still whole. Not a root had struck -out. - -“Then Jean suddenly remembered that Cecilia had said that when she grew -to be a _lady_ that there would be a lot of money, so perhaps we would -have to wait just as long, and let our bags lie there till then. This -thought was a greater disappointment, for we had expected to surprise -the family with our crop of gold dollars when your grandfather came home -from his next voyage. - -“By-and-by, of course, other things came up, and the bank was rather -forgotten, till one day grandma said that the County Fair was to be held -in a few days, and we would go, as usual. Then we looked at each other -in dismay, for we had buried all our money. We had expected at first, -you know, to reap our crop long before this important day, and here we -were with a very small number of pennies, and no sign of any money -sprouting yet. - -“Grandma noticed our dismayed faces and at once asked us what was the -matter; so we told her the whole story. How she laughed! but she -explained to us very carefully what a bank really is, and how money does -‘grow’ or increase in a savings bank. Then she told us to run down and -dig up our bags before they were entirely spoiled.” - -“Did you get them?” asked Cricket, eagerly. - -“That is the sad part of my story, dear. Two very downcast children, we -went down to the sand-bank, and what do you think?” - -“Had it all been taken away?” asked the children, breathlessly. - -“No, but it might as well have been, for do you know, we couldn’t find -it. Heavy rains had come, and had washed away our sticks. We ran up and -down the sand-bank, which extends a long distance, you know, but we -could not find the spot anywhere. We dug here and there, for we could -not believe that we would not find our money, but all in vain. At last -we came, crying, back to grandma, and she comforted us, as usual. She -told us that little girls usually got into trouble when they did things -without asking their mammas, but that next time we would both be wiser, -and ask her advice first. Then she asked us how much money we had -buried, and two days after, on the very morning when we were to start -for the Fair, we found by our pillows, when we woke up, two pretty, new -chamois-skin bags, with the same amount of money, all in bright new -nickels, which grandma had taken the trouble to get for us. - -“For months afterwards, we used to go down at intervals, and dig for -those bags, till I think we must have pretty nearly spaded up the entire -bank. But, at any rate, we did not strike just the right spot, and we -never saw those bags again.” - -“Are they there now,” demanded Cricket, sitting up suddenly. - -“For all I know. Much of the sand-bank on the other side has been carted -away for building purposes, but this side, I believe, has never been -disturbed.” - -“Won’t I dig for it, next time I go to grandma’s!” cried Cricket. “How -much was there in them?” - -“I think about three dollars altogether, wasn’t there, Jean? What -heart-broken children we were, weren’t we, when we first realized that -we couldn’t find the place!” - -“Indeed we were. That was my first and last speculation,” laughed -auntie. - -“Isn’t it funny,” said Cricket to Eunice, “to think that mamma and -auntie were ever such little geese!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - GOING BACK TO TOWN. - - -Leaving dear old Kayuna and going back to town was always a time of -mourning with the Ward family. They had occasionally lived out there -through the whole year, but it was not very convenient for the grown-up -members of the family, and there were no good schools for the older -ones. - -The first of October was the usual time for the flitting. For a week -before there was a great flying around among the small fry, who had to -put away any of their own possessions which were not taken with them -into town, for mamma insisted on their being left in perfect order. All -other things must be collected in the nursery to be packed. - -These things were always getting hopelessly mixed up, and some treasured -article was always being rescued from the packed-away things. Cricket -and Eunice had a small trunk which they were allowed to pack all by -themselves, with their own books and treasures, and I should be afraid -to mention the number of times that this trunk was packed and unpacked. - -Then there were all the animals on the place to see for a final good-by. -Dear little Mopsie and Charcoal had to have extra feeds of apples and -sugar, to make up for the long time before they would see their little -mistresses again. Mike had to be charged, over and over, not to neglect -to give them enough exercise, and always to let the dogs go, too. -Grinning Mike finally said that he believed “Miss Scriket thought he -didn’t know a horse whin he met wan in the road,” since she gave him so -many instructions. - -Then the children must race down to the barns, at the farm-house, and -take a last jump on the heaps of soft, dry hay. They must find some eggs -to take to the store for a final exchange for candy. They must visit all -their favourite haunts by the dear little brook, and say good-by to the -dear old woods, now gay in their fall dress of scarlet and gold. - -Hilda had already begun school, and could be with them very little now, -but she was broken-hearted, as usual, at the thought of losing her -little playfellow. She and Edith Craig spent all their spare minutes -with the girls, and planned eagerly for the coming year. Mamma had last -year invited both Hilda and Edith to spend the Christmas holidays in -town with her little daughters, and you can imagine what fine times they -had there, although it proved very different from being together in the -country. Sometime I may tell you about one of these visits to town. - -At last everything was ready for the departure. The furniture was all -done up in linen covers, and mattings and rugs were taken up and put -away. The children would race up and down the great echoing halls and -rooms in high glee, enjoying the commotion of the last day. Mamma was -not strong enough to bear all this confusion, and she went back in town -a few days earlier, to see that everything was ready and comfortable in -their town house. The servant whom they left there through the summer -had the house open and in order, so mamma and Kenneth, whom she took -with her, had a few days of rest and quiet all by themselves. - -The house at Kayuna was shut up through the winter, though the farmer’s -wife came up once a week to go over it and see that everything was all -right. - -At last came the day of departure. Since the village was within easy -driving distance of the city—twelve miles—Mike always loaded up the -trunks on a big cart, and drove them all in town, himself, while the -family went in by train. This year there was a little change in their -going. - -’Gustus John, who often drove to town, found that it was necessary for -him to go that very day, and ’Manda wanted to go also, for her fall -shopping. In view of this,—though he had much difficulty in getting his -courage up to ask such a favour,—he begged Dr. Ward that he might have -the “pleasure and honour” of driving Miss Eunice and Miss Cricket in -town with them. - -The doctor hesitated, but Cricket and Eunice, hearing of the plan, -begged so hard for permission that their father finally consented. - -The start had to be an early one, in order that the farmer and his wife -should get in town to do their errands, for they had to be at home by -five o’clock. So eight o’clock on Wednesday morning saw the wagon drive -in at the gates of Kayuna. ’Gustus John in his big overcoat,—for the -morning was chilly,—and in his new stiff Derby hat, looked a very -different figure from the ’Gustus John of every day, in his blue -overalls and blouse. ’Manda rejoiced in a new fall bonnet, trimmed with -red and blue feathers, and was wrapped up in a gay plaid shawl. She sat -in front with her husband, and left the roomy back seat to the children. - -They were all ready, and came out smiling and in good spirits. It was -really much easier parting from dear old Kayuna, since the pleasure of -this long drive was in prospect. Mike brought Mopsie and Charcoal around -to see the start, he said,—though I think it was really an excuse to be -there himself,—and the girls must stop for another hug for them, and -kisses on their cold little noses. - -The big farm-horses, carefully groomed and shining, held up their heads, -and said, as plainly as could be, that they were delighted to get off -from the farm-work for one day, as they stood, stamping the ground, -impatient to be off. - -’Manda had some extra shawls with which she insisted on wrapping up -Cricket and Eunice, for this October morning was crisp and cool. The -children felt like little mummies, but they were glad of the extra -warmth. Eliza charged ’Manda to take off the shawls before they reached -town, so “they might look like something, when they got there.” - -Then ’Gustus John gathered up the reins, and the horses, tossing their -fine heads, wheeled around, and went down the avenue at a brisk trot, -while Eunice and Cricket waved good-by to dear old Kayuna, and threw -kisses to Mopsie and Charcoal. - -Gayly the horses trotted along the hard country roads, glad of a chance -to show their spirits and their speed. Merrily the girls’ tongues -wagged, and ’Gustus John and ’Manda on the front seat exchanged -delighted glances. They were such a good-natured couple that the -children always wondered how they happened to have such a spoiled child -as Mamie. Really ’Manda was too good-natured and easy with her. She -never could bear to correct or punish her in any way, and since Mamie -was not very good to begin with, the result was a bad one, as we know. -Too much of our own way is not good for any of us. - -An hour of this brisk pace brought them to a roadside hotel, where the -horses were watered at a great trough by the side of the road. It was -pretty to watch the thirsty creatures, as they plunged their noses deep -in the clear, running water, and then drank eagerly. Then ’Gustus John -checked them up again, climbed into the light wagon, and then, gathering -up the reins, he cracked his whip and they were off once more. - -Just after that they had an accident that might easily have been a -serious one. The back seat of the wagon could be taken out, so that -’Gustus John could use the space behind for packing jars of butter, and -baskets of eggs, when he went to town with “small truck,” as he called -it. When the seat was put back, two little iron pieces on the bottom -slipped into two little sockets and held it fast. Even without this, the -seat would rest pretty securely on the frame-work. - -Now, while ’Gustus John had been harnessing that morning, he had just -lifted the seat from the barn floor, to put it in place,—for the last -time he had used this wagon the seat had been taken out,—when he was -called away. He rested it in its place on the body of the wagon; then, -without stopping at the moment, to notice if it was secure, went to see -what was wanted. When he came back the seat looked all right, and he -entirely forgot that he had not yet slipped the little irons into the -sockets. It would have been safe enough, in this way, over smooth, level -roads, but a jar, or a steep ascent, would have been enough to throw it -off the body of the wagon. - -After they left the watering-trough, the road wound up a steep hill, a -very steep one. Eunice leaned forward and took hold of the back of the -front seat. - -“Seems to me, Cricket,” she said, “this seat rather wiggles. Hope it -won’t slip off.” - -“Nonsense! I don’t feel it,” said Cricket. “’Gustus John always fastens -it in tight. I’ve seen him lots of times,” and by way of showing her -confidence in ’Gustus John’s care, she leaned back with a little -unnecessary force. The horses at that moment came to what is called, in -the country, a “thank you marm,” which is a sort of mound across the -road to act as a water-shed. The wagon gave a jerk as it passed over. -This was too much for the seat, which had slipped a little as they -climbed the hill, and off it went behind, bringing the two little girls -with it, down into the middle of the road. At the same instant the -horses sprang forward at a renewed trot, as they swept around a curve to -a more level piece of road, and they were out of sight in a moment. - -Cricket and Eunice, breathless with their sudden descent, sat on the -seat, staring after their chariot in great bewilderment. They had gone -over so suddenly, that neither of them had screamed, and ’Gustus John -and ’Manda, talking busily over their errands in town, did not know that -they had lost their passengers. Suddenly ’Manda, hearing a faint cry in -the distance, turned around to see if the children heard it. There was -nothing but emptiness behind. - -“Lawful suz,” she cried, catching at the reins. “Ef we hain’t ben and -gone and lost them children! Turn round, ’Gustus John! turn _round_, I -say!” - -’Gustus John’s slower brain could only take in one fact. - -“Let go the lines, ’Mandy,” he said, sharply, as one of the horses -reared at the sudden twitch of the reins. “Hain’t I told yer more’n five -hundred times not to do that on no account?” - -“The children, ’Gustus John!” gasped ’Manda, rising in her place, and -looking back. “We’ve lost the children! where can they be?” - -“Lost ’em _out_?” ’Gustus John pulled up so suddenly that the horses -fell back on their haunches. “My Gummy!” He whirled the horses around, -and drove back. As they came to the curve, they saw Eunice and Cricket -in the road, trying to get out of the heavy shawls, which wrapped them -like mummies. - -“Well, I declare for it! Are you hurt, children?” ’Manda called, -eagerly. - -Both little girls came up laughing. - -“No, not a bit,” they declared. They had not struck their backs at all, -only slipped right out, seat and all, and the thick shawls had protected -them. ’Gustus John was ready to sink into the ground with mortification. - -“I swan! I never did forget that ’ere seat fastenin’ before. To think -I’ve been and done it this mornin’ of all mornin’s. I’m ashamed to look -your pa in the face ever agin, when I’ve pretty nigh killed ye both.” - -“Why, we’re not hurt the least bit,” Cricket assured him, eagerly, as he -fixed the seat firmly in its place again. “It was lots of fun going -over. It slipped off just as _easy_!” - -’Manda felt the children all over very carefully, to make sure that no -bones were broken, she said, though, seeing how lively the children -were, there was little fear of that. - -“That seat’s ez tight as a drum, now,” said ’Gustus John, finally, -preparing to lift the girls in. - -“Wait a minute,” said ’Manda; “I must tidy them up a bit, now. Look at -Cricket’s hat,” and she straightened the crooked hat, patted down the -flying locks, and pulled their dresses around. “Ain’t it warm enough to -take off them shawls, now? There you be!” with a final pat to each. - -Then they mounted again and settled in their places, while the horses, -wondering at all this delay, started off again at a swinging pace, which -took them over the ground so fast that it was not long before they -crossed the long bridge, and were fairly in town. - -It was only a little after ten, when they turned into the home-street, -and drew up before the familiar house. Mamma, seeing their arrival from -an upper window, came hurrying down to meet them, as glad to see her -little daughters as if they had been separated a year, instead of a few -days. - -Then after mamma had warmly thanked ’Gustus John and ’Manda for bringing -such rosy-faced little maids home, Eunice and Cricket said good-by to -them also, and ran in to the house, feeling now that the lovely summer -at Kayuna was fairly over. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - CRICKET’S SHORT MEMORY. - - -The household settled into their town-life very quickly, and in three -days’ time they almost felt as if their lovely summer had been a dream. -Only the children’s sunburned faces and hands, and their overflowing -health and spirits, remained as proof positive that they had not been in -town all summer. - -“How strange it is that Marion Blair does not call for me,” said -Marjorie, one day, turning away from the window, where she had been -standing in hat and coat, for half an hour. “She said she would be here -at three, and it is nearly four now. I’m afraid we’ll lose the -chrysanthemum show altogether.” - -“Oh, Marjorie!” cried Cricket, penitently. “I’m so sorry. I met Daisy -Blair on the street this morning, and she asked me to give you this note -from Marion.” - -Marjorie read the note hastily. - -“You provoking child! She writes that she has a severe cold and can’t go -out to-day, but wants me to call for Sallie Evarts, and go with her, and -Sallie would wait for me till three. Sallie was going with us. Now, it’s -too late to go way up there, and you’ve lost us the flower-show—both of -us, for I’m sure Sallie wouldn’t go off alone—and it’s the last day.” - -“Oh, Marjorie dear, I am _so_ sorry,” Cricket said, looking crushed, as -she always did, when her forgetfulness was in question. “I’m _awfully_ -sorry.” - -“You always are awfully sorry,” returned Marjorie, impatiently, “but -that does not excuse your abominable forgetfulness.” Marjorie used -strong language, but really Cricket’s constant slips of memory were -maddening. - -Both her mother and father felt very badly over this fault of Cricket’s, -knowing it might any day bring serious consequences. They had tried -every possible means to help her overcome it, but thus far nothing had -ever done any special good. She would remember better for a time, and -then forget more than ever. One reason for her forgetfulness was an odd -one. With all her high spirits and her love of active, out-door sports, -Cricket was also greatly given to day-dreams. She had a strong -imagination, and was devoted to her books, for she liked to read quite -as much as she loved to run and play. When she was by herself, she was -always dreaming out strange fancies, making jingles which she called -poetry, or telling stories to herself about all sorts of things. When -she was given an errand to do she would always set off willingly enough, -and in a moment would be entirely absorbed in her own fancies as she -walked along the street. She would perhaps go past the house to which -she had been sent, for an entire block, then, suddenly recollecting -herself, would turn quickly and go as far in the other direction. -Marjorie said that one day, when she was calling at a certain house, she -saw Cricket pass a house opposite four times before she remembered to go -in when she came to the door. - -She had frequently been known to pass her own home, if she chanced to -come alone from school, and walk on for a couple of blocks. A letter -intrusted to her might reach its destination any time within six months, -if it went into her pocket. She never by any chance remembered a -message. She even forgot, oftentimes, whether she had eaten her lunch or -not. Indeed, the only thing she never mislaid were her school-books, and -the sole things she never forgot were her lessons. Her memory for -history, even for long strings of dates, was really unusual. She could -commit pages of poetry, and Latin declensions, and conjugations rolled -easily off her glib little tongue. - -Since this was the case, I am sadly afraid that Cricket’s slips of -memory were simply from lack of attention to what people told her to do. -Her mind was always too full of plans and fancies of her own to notice -carefully what they said. Consequently, things of that sort being laid -on the top of her mind, constantly rolled off and were lost. - -So long as Cricket was only a little girl, her fault was annoying but -not serious. Now, as she grew older, and might have important messages -and errands intrusted to her by people who did not know her failing, you -may be sure mamma was in constant terror. - -After Cricket’s forgetfulness in delivering the note had lost Marjorie -and her friend the flower-show, mamma had a long and very serious talk -with her little daughter. She reminded her how often she had talked to -her on the same subject before, and how each time Cricket had promised -to do better; how useless it was for her to say how sorry she was, and -then forget the next day just the same. - -“Well, you see,” Cricket said, candidly, “I say ‘I’ll _never_ forget -again,’ and then prob’ly the next day I go and do it. And then, -naturally, I get discouraged. _Ever_ is such a long time.” - -“Well, little daughter,” suggested mamma, “suppose you try this way. -Don’t say that you’ll _never_ forget again, but only ‘I will try not to -forget a thing I’m told to do _to-day_,’ and the next day say the same -thing. You don’t know how quickly the habit of remembering would be -formed, for I really think that your constant forgetfulness is largely a -habit.” - -“I might try that,” said Cricket, thoughtfully. “Couldn’t I take a day -off, sometimes?” she added, quickly. - -Mamma laughed - -“There is no such thing as ‘taking a day off,’ when we are trying to do -better, pet. Do you know, overcoming a bad habit is like rolling up a -ball of string. If you drop it, you have just so much to do over. So if -you take even one day off—” - -“I see,” interrupted Cricket, with a sigh. “I’ve just got to keep -winding. But, truly, I’ll try this time not to drop my ball. I really -_do_ suppose,” she added, thoughtfully, after a moment, “that I could -remember better, if I didn’t tell stories to myself all the time I’m -walking, but it’s such fun. I get so interested that I don’t know -anything.” - -“Then the stories should go, little daughter,” said mamma, “if they -hinder you remembering. Now try it for one day at a time. ‘Take short -views,’ as Sydney Smith says.” - -“I’ll truly try,” repeated Cricket, with so serious a face that mamma -felt greatly encouraged. - -Really, for a week Cricket’s improvement was marvellous. She resolutely -put her beloved stories and day-dreams out of her mind, if she was told -to do anything, until she had done it, and she began to realize that it -had been largely a lack of attention that made her forget messages so. - -“I haven’t dropped my ball once this week,” Cricket confided in triumph -to mamma, at the end of that time, as she kissed her good-night. Eunice -had gone to bed early with a bad headache. “Really, do you know, -remembering isn’t such hard work, if you only make up your mind that you -will.” - -Mamma smiled. “I am glad you find it so. Good-night, love. By-the-by, -stop at the library door, as you go upstairs, and tell papa that Mr. -Evans has just sent word that he will be in about nine, on some -important business.” - -“Yes, mamma,” said Cricket, stopping on her way out to play with Duster. -Then she went out of the room and upstairs. At her room door she -remembered her message. - -“Just in time,” she thought. “Most dropped it that time!” and she ran -down again to the library. - -Mamma sat listening to see if she delivered the message. Hearing her run -down stairs again, she smiled, satisfied. - -“Oh, papa,” Cricket began, when her attention was attracted by a -beautifully illustrated, new volume, which papa was unwrapping. “Isn’t -that beautiful!” she exclaimed, in delight. She hung over papa’s -shoulder, as he turned the pages and explained some of the lovely -pictures. - -Suddenly he pulled out his watch and stood up in thought for a moment. - -“May I see this more?” begged Cricket. - -“Yes, you may take it for a few minutes,” said papa. “Be sure you put it -back on my table when you are through with it. I must step over to -Brewster’s for a minute;” and papa took up some papers and left the -room. - -Cricket did not heed him. She threw herself on the white goat-skin -before the open fire, and, with her chin in her hand, she turned the -leaves of the lovely volume in absorbed interest. Papa went out, and she -did not even hear the door close. Mamma did, though, and stepped to the -door of the parlour. The light still streamed from the library, and she -went back, supposing papa was still there. - -An hour passed. About nine the bell rang violently; Cricket did not hear -it. A few minutes after, mamma’s repeated “Cricket” brought her to her -feet. - -“Where is your father?” Mrs. Ward was saying. “Didn’t you give him my -message?” - -“What message?” faltered Cricket, looking bewildered. - -“Didn’t you tell him that Mr. Evans would call? Why, _Cricket_!” - -“Oh, mamma, what shall I do? I forgot all about it.” - -Mr. Evans looked extremely annoyed. He was an irritable man, with small -patience for any one’s short-comings. Now, he certainly had good reason -to be vexed. His business was important, and he had to catch a late -train for New York, and had but little time to spare. - -“Well, well, then,” he said, shortly, “perhaps you can tell me where he -is gone, if you did forget the message?” - -Cricket grew frightened. “I think—I can’t just remember,” she faltered. - -“Haven’t you any idea?” asked mamma. “He must have mentioned some place -when he was going;” for it was papa’s rule always to leave word when he -went out. - -“It seems to me—yes, I know,” cried Cricket, brightening up. “He said he -was going to the Bruces,” with a faint echo of the name that papa had -spoken lingering in her ear. Unfortunately, the Bruces lived at the -other end of town, and the Brewsters in the next square. - -“I shall have to risk finding him there, then,” said Mr. Evans, looking -at his watch. “No! I have not time. Really this is a most unfortunate -matter,” and Mr. Evans put back his watch, looking like a thunder-cloud. -Having taken the precaution to notify Dr. Ward that it was necessary to -see him that night on important business, it was certainly more than -vexatious to find him out. Mrs. Ward was greatly distressed. - -“I will send Donald instantly to the Bruces,” she said. “Perhaps then my -husband can catch you at the station before you leave, if he has not -time to go to your house.” And with this Mr. Evans departed. - -Mamma dragged Donald from his studies, and sent him post-haste across -the city. Then she came back to Cricket. - -“We won’t talk about this till after I have seen papa!” she said, -gravely, and miserable Cricket went slowly off to bed. - -Forlornly, she mounted the stairs. No thought of the new volume she had -left on the rug came to her mind. Usually, it would have been safe -enough, but to-night it chanced that Duster was in an unusually playful -mood. All the older ones but mamma being out, and the younger ones in -bed, Duster felt lonely, and wanted to play. He strolled into the -library in search of amusement. The firelight played on the standing -pages of the costly volume, open on the hearth-rug. Duster darted -forward. With teeth and claws he worried the charming plaything, -pitching it up, and shaking it vigorously, till the covers banged. He -tore the leaves into fragments and chased them around, then settled down -comfortably to chew up what was left. - -It is but justice to Duster to say that he was generally a very -well-behaved dog, and rarely did any mischief. He had his own -playthings, and was expected to keep to them. Probably in the dim light, -for mamma had turned down the gas, he did not realize that the new -plaything was that forbidden delight, a book. However, in ten minutes -the charming volume, with its beautiful pictures, and choice binding, -was a wreck, and Duster trotted back to mamma, feeling perfectly -virtuous, and much refreshed, as he lay down on her dress to take a nap. - -But the next morning came Cricket’s reckoning with papa and mamma and -the book—or rather with the remains of it. - -Donald had returned the night before, saying that the Bruces had not -seen papa, and mamma, of course, became very anxious. Donald had gone -out again to two or three places where he thought his father might be, -and then at the last minute had met him in the street. Dr. Ward had -rushed to the station; Mr. Evans was there, hoping he might come, and -they had a hurried talk, for fortunately the train was late. By this -lucky chance, only, was a great amount of inconvenience saved to several -people. - -Then Dr. Ward came home to find mamma in the greatest anxiety; and then, -to crown all, when they went into the library, there lay papa’s rare, -new book, a wreck, upon the floor. - -Cricket came from that interview the most wretched little girl that ever -lived. It was seldom that her forgetfulness was the cause of so much -mischief, and she had had a very severe lecture. - -“I’m perfectly miserable,” Cricket sobbed, after papa had gone out. “I -thought I was getting on so beautifully, and somehow, I felt sure that I -was never going to forget again.” - -“I’m afraid that was just the trouble, dear. Whenever you feel that you -are most successful in overcoming a fault, then is just the time when -you need double caution. ‘It’s always dangerous to be safe,’ you know.” - -“Oh, is that what that saying means?” broke in Cricket. “I never could -see how it was dangerous to be safe.” - -“That’s exactly it. Now I want you _never_ to feel safe. There is always -danger of dropping your ball.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - CRICKET’S BOOMERANG. - - -Cricket was so completely subdued by this last piece of forgetfulness, -and its consequences, that for weeks afterwards her improvement was -simply wonderful. - -But old habits are very strong. After a time Cricket’s watchfulness over -herself grew less, and the old story began. She borrowed Marjorie’s new -silk umbrella in a hurry, because she could not find her own, and left -it in the horsecar. The very next week she took Zaidee and Helen out to -walk, and left them on a seat in the park, while she ran to speak to -some little friends. They, not knowing that she had the twins with her, -urged her to go down to Howlett’s for hot chocolate with them. She went -off, forgetting the children, whom she had charged “not to stir till I -come back.” An hour after, when she reached home, she was met by Eliza -with a demand for the twins. Nurse flew off on learning where they had -been left, and fifteen minutes later she brought in two little -shivering, crying girls, who had not stirred from the seat, because -Cricket had bidden them stay there. Several policemen and kind-hearted -passers-by had gathered around them, and were trying to find out where -they belonged. - -A fine attack of croup for Helen was the result, and a slight cold for -Zaidee, who was stronger, and Cricket was in disgrace again. - -“I don’t _like_ to forget,” she said, miserably, when the entire family -took her to task that evening. “I never mean to forget, and then I go -and do it.” - -“Go and don’t do it, you mean,” said Donald. - -“The trouble is, little daughter,” said papa, as he had said a hundred -times before, “that you do not pay sufficient attention. You know how -many times I have told you that attention is putting your mind upon a -point, with a view to remembering it.” - -“I expect that’s the trouble,” said Cricket, quickly. “I _do_ fasten my -mind on a point. I put it on so hard that the point sticks through, and -then of course I can’t remember.” - -“I should think you’d remember sometimes, by mere accident,” remarked -Marjorie, looking up from her book. “There are exceptions to all rules.” - -“Cricket is the exception to that rule,” struck in Donald. - -“Now, I think I have remembered a good many things thus far, sir,” said -Cricket, rather indignantly. “It was only yesterday that you told me to -tell Rose Condit something, and I couldn’t think just exactly what it -was, but I remembered to say that you wanted her to come and see you.” - -There was a shout at this. - -“You little monkey,” said Donald, getting red. “Did you tell her that? I -told you to say that I’d see her to-night.” - -“That’s pretty near the same, isn’t it,” asked Cricket, anxiously. - -There was another shout. - -“Cricket is like a little chap that I used to hear of when I was a small -boy,” began papa, standing on the hearth-rug, with his hands behind his -back, and smiling down at his small daughter, as she sat on the rug, -clasping her knees with both hands, and staring thoughtfully into the -fire. Cricket was such a lovable, winning thing, with all her trying -ways, that one could not be angry with her long. - -“Who was this boy, papa?” she said, looking up. “Now, please don’t tell -me about any good little boy, who never forgot.” - -“This wasn’t a good little boy, ma’am,” laughed papa; “he was sent by -his mother to the store for some eggs and sugar and molasses. Lest he -should forget, she told him to repeat the three things on the way. So he -started off, saying ‘Eggs, sugar, and molasses—eggs, sugar, and -molasses.’ Suddenly he stubbed his toe, and fell headlong. As he picked -himself up, he said, ‘Wax, tar, and rosin—wax, tar, and rosin—ain’t -forgot yet.’ So when Cricket _does_ remember, it is likely to be the -wrong thing.” - -“The trouble is that Cricket’s forgetfulness never makes any difference -to herself. She isn’t the one that suffers,” said Marjorie, still -feeling injured over her silk umbrella. “It’s always something of other -people’s that she forgets.” - -“It ought to be a boomerang arrangement,” said Donald, as he got up to -go out. - -“What’s a boomer-something?” asked Cricket, curiously. - -“A boomerang, my dear,” returned Donald, “is a curved piece of wood -about a yard long which is used by the Australians. They throw it -straight along, and it turns a few somersaults, and presently comes back -to the thrower. If a person who doesn’t understand it throws it, it’s -more than likely to come back, whack, on his own head. See? Now that’s -the style of thing to make you remember, Miss Scricket. A good, sharp -rap on your own head, when you’re throwing your forgettings around, -would be an excellent thing, wouldn’t it, little mother?” kissing his -mother as he passed her chair. - -Mamma smiled up at her tall son, and stroked Cricket’s curly hair. - -“I’m beginning to be afraid,” she said, “that Donald is right, my little -girl, and that only a ‘boomerang arrangement’ will do any lasting good.” - -Cricket sighed. “It’s very hard to be such a torment to the family, when -I love everybody so,” she said, plaintively. “I wish somebody would -throw stones at me.” - -Now, as it proved, the boomerang was not far away. - -The very next week a note was brought to the school which Cricket -attended, for her to give to her mother. She put it in her pocket, and -of course it might as well have gone into a coal-mine, as far as her -thinking of it again was concerned. - -That was Wednesday. Cricket did not chance to wear that particular dress -again till the next Wednesday, for she tore it in some way, and it was -laid aside to be mended. On going home from school she chanced to put -her hand in her pocket, and brought up the note. - -“Where did this come from!” she thought, in bewilderment. She could not -at all remember, but she concluded that some one had given it to her on -her way to school, though she could not recall it. - -“I’m so glad I thought of it,” she said to herself, quite proudly, and -she held it in her hand all the way home lest she should forget to -deliver it. - -Mamma received the week-old note, and read it without any suspicion. It -was dated, simply, “Wednesday morning.” - -“This is from Mrs. Drayton,” she exclaimed to papa. “I’m so glad. She -says that Mrs. Lynn will spend a day and night with her. She’s the -famous lecturer, you know. She and Mrs. Drayton were school-mates. She -comes very unexpectedly now, and Mrs. Drayton wants us to dine there -to-night, very informally. The Camerons will be there—no one else. You -can go, can’t you, dear?” - -“Yes, it will suit me very well,” said papa. - -After Cricket had left the room Mrs. Ward added,— - -“She writes a postscript to say that she is planning a luncheon party -for Emily, for her birthday on Saturday, as a surprise to her, and -invites Eunice and Cricket. She is going to take the children, after, to -the matinée, to see the ‘Old Homestead.’ Isn’t that just like Mrs. -Drayton? Poor Eunice won’t be able to go unless her cold is very much -better, but Cricket will be overjoyed. And she says not to tell the -children till Friday, lest Emily should hear of it.” - -Mamma was delighted at the chance of meeting Mrs. Lynn, who was a very -noted woman, and she and papa went off in good season. - -About half-past eight, to the surprise of the children, who were -gathered in the sitting-room,—the younger ones always had permission to -sit up a little later when their father and mother were out—the click of -papa’s latchkey was heard in the door, and a moment after he and mamma -entered the room. - -“What is the matter? Are you ill?” came in a chorus. - -“Nobody is ill,” said papa, looking queer. - -“Then what _is_ the matter?” - -“Nothing much—only there was no dinner-party.” - -“No _dinner-party_?” every one exclaimed. - -Mamma took up the note which had been left on the table, and said -gravely to Cricket,— - -“Tell me where you got this note, my dear?” - -“From my pocket,” returned Cricket, in much surprise. - -“How did it get there? When did you find it?” - -“Why, this,—” Cricket hesitated. “Yes, it certainly _was_ this morning.” - -“You certainly gave it to me this morning, but who gave it to you, and -when?” - -“It was the funniest thing,” said Cricket, eagerly. “I really don’t -know. I honestly don’t remember putting it there, and yet somebody must -have given it to me on the way to school.” - -“Could anybody have left it at school, for you?” asked papa. - -“No, I’m sure no one did this morning. Some one left a note a long time -ago, but,—” Cricket stopped suddenly, in dismay. - -“Exactly, my dear,” said papa, dryly. “It was a long time ago—just one -week.” - -“Mamma!” cried Cricket, “didn’t I ever give you that note? Is this the -same one?” - -“The very same. How did you not happen to find it before?” - -Cricket looked down at her dress. - -“Why, Cricket!” exclaimed Eunice. “You haven’t had that dress on for a -long time. You tore the ruffle last week, and you were waiting for Eliza -to mend it.” - -“That is it, then,” said mamma. “Now, do you know what you have done? -The note was given you last Wednesday. You put it in your pocket, and -did not think of it again. You found it to-day, and did not even know -how it got in your pocket.” - -“I thought it was queer,” murmured Cricket. - -“You gave me the note this morning. It was dated simply ‘Wednesday,’ so -of course I never doubted it had just been given you.” - -“Then there wasn’t any dinner-party to-night?” faltered Cricket. - -“I’ll tell you what your forgetfulness has done, my dear,” answered -mamma. “Mrs. Lynn was at Mrs. Drayton’s for that night only. We were -anxious to meet each other, for I know her sister very well. She came -very unexpectedly, and Mrs. Drayton sent the note in to you, since your -school is so near her, as the quickest way of its reaching me. - -“To-night, as papa and I arrived, we saw the Draytons’ carriage standing -in front of their door, and of course wondered at that. As we rang the -bell, the door opened, and the Draytons themselves came out, to our -great amazement. They exclaimed at seeing us, and we immediately found -they were invited out to dinner themselves to-night. Of course we -explained, and so did they, though, as they were already late, they -could only stop a few moments. - -“Mrs. Drayton was greatly surprised last week, when we neither arrived -nor sent any word, but supposed it was one of my sudden illnesses. Think -how rude you made us appear, Cricket.” - -“And then, how ridiculous you made us seem to-night,” added papa, “in -going to dine, when there wasn’t any dinner-party.” - -Cricket was much too wretched to speak. She was curled up in a corner of -the couch, with her head buried in the cushions. - -“But that is not all,” went on papa. - -Cricket raised a tear-stained face, in added dismay. What more could -there be? - -“And I am not altogether sorry, my dear, that it will be a great -disappointment to yourself.” - -“Oh, ho!” said Donald, quickly. “Boomerang business, I see.” - -“Yes, a boomerang, and no mistake. Tell her, mamma.” - -“Mrs. Drayton had arranged a children’s luncheon-party for Saturday as a -surprise for Emily. Six were invited, and she intended to take them to a -matinée afterward, to their box, to see ‘The Old Homestead.’ She invited -you and Eunice. I thought I should let you go, Cricket, even though -Eunice may not be well enough.” - -Cricket came to her feet with a bound. “Can I go?” she asked, eagerly. -“I am dying to see ‘The Old Homestead?’ Oh, goody, goody!” - -“Don’t you understand, dear?” asked mamma. “The matinée-party shares the -fate of the dinner-party. They are both over, and we were not there. You -forgot the note, you see, and it was _last_ Saturday, you know.” - -“Last Saturday! Have I lost it!” exclaimed Cricket, with eyes as large -as saucers. - -“Whew!” whistled Donald. “That’s a good hard whack with the boomerang, -my lady. You threw it well, that time.” - -“Hush, Donald,” said mamma. “Don’t tease her.” - -Cricket burst into a flood of tears. To have lost one of Emily Drayton’s -parties! Such _beautiful_ parties her mamma always had for her, too. And -then think of a matinée and a box! Dr. Ward did not approve of much -theatre-going for little people, and the children rarely went, excepting -for their Christmas treat. All Cricket’s little friends had seen ‘The -Old Homestead,’ and she had been begging for weeks to go. Now by her own -careless forgetfulness she had lost it. It was too dreadful. Her -boomerang had struck her a “whack,” indeed. - -“I’m awfully sorry for you, Cricket,” Marjorie said, “but I can’t help -hoping that you’ll realize now how pleasant it is for other people to -lose flower-shows and umbrellas and dinner-parties.” - -“Make her stop, mamma!” sobbed wretched Cricket. “I’m always sorry when -I forget your things, Marjorie.” - -“Yes,” assented teasing Donald, though he really pitied his little -sister. “It’s easy to bear another man’s misfortune like a Christian. -Come, youngster, take your whacking like a man.” - -“By-the-way, have you had any dinner?” asked Marjorie, of mamma. - -“Oh, yes, papa and I went to the Bolingbroke and dined. Come, Cricket, -it’s bedtime. I’ll go up with you.” - -Cricket stumbled upstairs, blind with tears. Mamma helped her to -undress, in her gentle way, and when the little girl was in bed she sat -down and talked with her for a while. - -“Yes, it’s very hard, little daughter,” said mamma, “but now I want you -to think how often your forgetfulness has caused other people to lose as -much pleasure as this of yours. I cannot tell you, for instance, how -disappointed I am, not to see Mrs. Lynn. She went to New York the next -day, and sailed on Saturday for Europe for a long stay. I may not have -another chance of meeting her. - -“All this is serious, but not so much so, as your forgetting old Mrs. -Cummings’s message not long ago, so that her poor husband nearly died -before papa could get there. It is not worse than when you forgot to -tell Donald that Mr. Marsh wanted him to call at his office on business; -or when you didn’t tell papa that Mr. Evans wanted to see him, or when -you forgot the children, and gave poor little Helen such an attack of -the croup that she is scarcely strong yet.” - -“Do people always feel as badly as I do?” sobbed Cricket. - -“Just as badly, my dear. Indeed, I think it’s a trifle easier when -you’ve only yourself to blame. As Marjorie said, it is strange that you -so seldom suffer yourself, and yet it is not strange, either. You -remember the things, you see, that you are interested in. I do hope, -dearie, that this will be a lesson, and that your boomerang may never -hit you so hard again.” - -“If boomerangs hurt other people half as much as this one has hurt me,” -said Cricket, between her sobs, “they sha’n’t feel any more of _my_ -boomerangs, I am sure of that.” - -“I hope not, darling,” said mamma, kissing her good-night. - -And really, I am glad to say that this was Cricket’s last serious piece -of forgetfulness. She set herself with all her might and main to conquer -her fault, and tried as she had never tried before. She regularly -remembered to bring home both her bundle and her change when she was -sent on an errand. She posted letters promptly. She remembered various -messages that were given to her for her mamma; and on one occasion she -even got up in the middle of the night, and went to papa with some word -which had been given to her for him during the day, and which she had -forgotten. - -So she improved steadily. I do not mean to say that she never forgot or -neglected anything again, for she certainly did; but she would usually -recall the forgotten thing in time to set it straight. She understood -now that no half-way trying will conquer any fault, and nothing outside -will help one to do it until a person makes up his mind to do it -himself. - -Weeks after, there arrived for Cricket, one evening after dinner, a -mysterious package. The family were all in the sitting-room, where they -usually gathered for a time, after dinner, before they separated to -their various duties or pleasures. Cricket opened it amid much wondering -on the part of the others, as well as on her own. - -It was a long thing, and when Cricket got it free from all its -wrappings, what do you think she found? An oddly curved piece of hard -wood, nearly a yard long, pointed at both ends, about four inches wide -in the middle, and half an inch thick. - -“What in the world is this queer-looking thing?” Cricket asked, holding -it up in both hands in great amazement. - -“A boomerang, my dear,” answered Donald. “For memorabil.” - -“For _what_?” - -“Memorabil. That means to remember something by. Tie it up with pretty -little blue ribbons, and hang it in your room, my dear, as girls always -do with their trinkets. When you look at it, you’ll remember the famous -occasion when you learned not to forget, for you’re getting to be as -reliable as a district messenger boy. We can give you an errand now with -forty-nine chances out of a hundred that it will be done. Next summer -I’ll teach you how to throw this. I’ve taken lessons on purpose.” - -And the boomerang hangs on Cricket’s wall to this day. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - KENNETH’S DAY. - - -Like most days, this particular day of Kenneth’s began in the morning. -He slept in a crib in mamma’s large room, for the twins and Eliza had -the nursery all to themselves. - -Every morning, as soon as it was dawn, Kenneth would begin to stir like -a little bird in his white nest, and then, half asleep as he was, he -would scramble quietly out of his crib, gather up his long, white -nightie, and steal softly over to the big bed across the room. - -Then came the never-failing joke of clapping his little fat hands over -papa’s sleepy eyes, with a chirping,— - -“Dess who’s here, papa!” and papa, of course, never could guess, and -always named over the whole flock, from seventeen-year-old Donald down, -till the baby called out, gleefully,— - -“It’s you’ Tennet, papa!” and scrambled like a little monkey into his -arms. He was such a sunny little creature, always beaming on the world -in general, with such radiant good-temper, that it was no wonder he was -everybody’s pet. - -This particular morning was the seventh of November, just before the -Presidential election. Kenneth was astir earlier than usual, for some -reason, and it was still dark when he crept with unusual caution across -the floor, and stuck his little fists into papa’s eyes. - -He lifted him up, without his customary frolic, saying, sleepily,— - -“Be a good baby, Kenneth, and let papa have another snooze.” So the -little fellow cuddled down in his father’s arms, and lay as still as a -mouse, with his arms tight around papa’s neck, and his golden curls -drifting across his face and getting dreadfully in his way. At last papa -was aroused by a patient little sigh. - -“Now, then, Kenneth,” he said, suddenly hoisting him up in the air, “do -you know that papa must go and vote to-day?” - -“Let Tennet do, too, papa?” he suggested, coaxingly. - -“Not to-day, my little man. You’ll have to wait for eighteen years.” - -“Tan I do res’day?” this was as near as his crooked little tongue could -come to yesterday, which was his name for any indefinite period. - -“We’ll see, my son. By-the-way, what are your politics?” - -Kenneth sat up on papa’s chest and looked wise. He knew quite well when -papa was teasing him. - -“You are a Republican, I suppose, you monkey?” - -Kenneth shook his head till his sunny curls fell over his eyes. - -“What! not a Republican? You don’t mean to tell me you’re a Democrat, do -you?” - -Kenneth considered. - -“Es, I is. I is a Democrack,” he said, decidedly, conquering the c’s, as -he sometimes did, with a mighty effort. - -“Very well, then,” said papa, with equal decision, “then you must go -away from me. I can’t have any little Democracks in my bed.” - -To his surprise, the baby slowly slipped from his arms and slid down to -the floor without a word. Papa watched him with amusement; never -thinking he would hold out. - -“Change your mind, baby,” he said, coaxingly. “You’re not a Democrack -now, are you?” - -Kenneth looked back, wistfully. He was half-way across the floor. - -“I _is_ a Demo-crack—” he answered, without wavering. - -“Then you’ll have to get into your own crib,” said papa, teasingly. - -Without a word the baby went on, climbed up on a chair and tumbled head -over heels into his own nest. - -Fifteen minutes later, when papa got up to dress, he found his little -son cuddled down in a forlorn little ball, with his thumb tucked into -his mouth, and his blue eyes grave and wide. - -Kenneth hid his head on papa’s shoulder, when he lifted him up and -petted him; but he had nothing to say. By-and-by he wriggled away from -him and crept up to mamma, who was sitting before the dressing-table, -brushing her hair, as bright as baby’s own. - -“Mamma,” he whispered, very softly, “I isn’t a Demo-crack now, but I -don’t want papa to see me chain my mind.” - -Kenneth’s mind was destined to give him more trouble that very day, for, -with all his sweetness, he was very persistent. - -That afternoon he was in the library, all alone with mamma. The elder -girls were all off, and the twins were out with Eliza, and papa was -making his daily rounds among his patients, so Kenneth and mamma had the -blazing wood fire—for the early autumn days were chilly—and the sunny -library all to themselves. - -Mamma was sewing on some dainty white material, and Kenneth was amusing -himself in his usual quiet fashion. There was a lower shelf, close to -the floor, where the children’s books were kept, and there stood a long -line of attractive, red-bound Rollo books, fourteen of them. These -always had a special fascination for Kenneth. He would pull them all -out, and build houses with them, or turn over the leaves, looking at -pictures, talking busily to himself all the time. - -At last he tired of them, and ran away to something else. - -“Put up the Rollo books, darling,” said mamma. - -“’Es, I put zem up,” said Kenneth, but he kept on pursuing some belated -flies. - -“See, mamma!” he cried, “I dust pote ’em, so, and zey all fall down.” - -“Poor flies,” said mamma, pitifully. “Don’t kill them. That is not -kind.” - -“All right, I won’t,” Kenneth answered. Presently mamma, attracted by -the stillness, turned around. Kenneth was still standing by the window, -with his little forefinger pointed at a poor, weak fly. - -“F’y, f’y,” he said, half-aloud, “does you want to do to heaven? Do -zere, zen!” and down came his plump finger, crushing the fly. - -“Kenneth,” said mamma, to draw off his attention, “come now and pick up -the books you had.” - -Kenneth, for a wonder, looked very unwilling. Sending flies to heaven -was much more interesting. However, he got up slowly, and went across -the room, looking at mamma from under his long lashes. - -“Pick them all up, baby,” said mamma, cheerily, “and then come and sit -in mamma’s lap and watch for papa. It’s almost time for him to come.” - -Kenneth stood by the scattered pile of books. Somehow he felt very -unwilling to put them back in their places. - -“Come, little son, pick them up,” repeated mamma. To her intense -surprise, Kenneth suddenly whipped his hands behind his back. - -“Tennet won’t!” he announced, standing as straight on his two fat legs -as a little drummajor. If one of the pet doves had flown in her face, -mamma could scarcely have been more surprised. She had never before had -to tell Kenneth twice to do anything. - -For a moment she scarcely knew what to do. - -“See if you can’t get all the books in order, Kenneth, before papa -comes,” she said, after a moment, as if she had not heard. - -“Tennet won’t!” in tones more decided, as he gained courage. - -“Then,” said mamma, slowly, “Kenneth must go in the corner for five -minutes.” - -Kenneth, looking very serious, but quite determined, immediately took up -his station in the corner formed by the tall old clock and a book-case, -while mamma waited while the moments ticked off. An unending time it -seemed to the naughty baby, who stood gravely watching his mother, as if -he were not at all concerned. - -Then mamma said,— - -“Will Kenneth pick up the books now?” - -“Tennet won’t.” - -This time there was a gleam of mischief that at once resolved mamma to -sterner measures. - -“Very well, then I must spat baby’s hands hard,” and she took up one of -the soft bits of velvet that served Kenneth for hands, and bestowed a -decided spat upon it. Kenneth winked and swallowed. He put his reddened -fingers behind his back, and promptly offered the other hand, which -mamma spatted also. - -Straightway he went through the same performance, producing hand number -one. It was difficult to keep from laughing, for the baby was so sober -and so determined. He never moved his eyes from mamma’s face. - -Fully half a dozen times, mamma slapped the hands of her rebellious -little man. Then, suddenly remembering baby’s speech in the nursery, she -said,— - -“Now, Kenneth, mamma is going into the hall for a few minutes, and there -will be nobody to see you change your mind, so you can pick up the -books, and—” - -“Tennet _won’t_!” came with such determined emphasis that mamma almost -jumped. - -“Then, when I come back,” mamma went on, looking very grave, “I will -bring a little switch with me, and whip my baby’s hands hard. Kenneth -must not say ‘won’t’ to mamma.” - -Kenneth’s eyes looked very serious indeed, as his mother left the room. -Such a long, long time she was gone! - -Kenneth looked at the books, and then at his red fingers. Papa might -come and find him in the corner. He began to want to go and put the -books back now, but somehow his legs would not carry him there. Then -mamma appeared, and, oh, dreadful! she had a little lilac switch, that -to baby’s frightened eyes looked like a club. Very slowly she came -towards her little son, looking, oh, so sad! and suddenly Kenneth’s -stubbornness melted away. - -“Tennet will! Tennet will!” he cried, and flew past mamma, and with -breathless haste scrambled up the red-bound Rollo books, stowing them in -their places with much eagerness, if not very carefully. - -Mamma sat awaiting him with open arms, and as Kenneth nestled up to her -shoulder, he put his arms around her neck and whispered,— - -“Please don’t tell papa zat I had to chain my mind aden.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - A STRAWBERRY HUNT. - - -The winter in town slipped by quickly. The children were counting -impatiently the weeks that must pass before they should be at dear old -Kayuna again, when all plans for the summer were very suddenly changed. - -Mamma grew no stronger as the spring came on, and papa and other doctors -thought that she ought to have a sea-voyage. Papa decided to go abroad -for two or three months and see what the air in the Swiss mountains -would do for her. At first mamma insisted on taking all the children, -for she could not make up her mind to leave one of her dear little flock -behind, but papa knew that she ought to have no care at all. Finally, -after much discussion, it was settled in this way: Marjorie and Donald, -who were old enough to be of some help and comfort to mamma, should go, -and the other children should be sent to Marbury, a dear old seaport -town, where grandmamma lived, for the summer. Mamma begged for Kenneth, -her baby, but the doctors all said no. Eliza was perfectly devoted to -him and the twins, and she promised not to let them out of her sight all -summer, and besides, Auntie Jean would be at grandma’s also. So mamma -had to be content. - -Kayuna was to have an addition built on this summer, since they were all -to be away, for, as the family grew, they needed more room, and much -repairing was to be done also. - -Papa and mamma were to sail the last of June. One day, about the middle -of the month, papa went out to Kayuna, to give his final directions -about the work to be done there. - -“Children,” he said at dinner, that night, “I saw that the strawberry -beds at Kayuna were in prime condition to-day. The vines are laden with -fruit. Would you like to make a picnic out there in a day or two, and -gather some? You won’t see Kayuna strawberries this summer, you know.” - -“I don’t think they need that argument,” said mamma, smiling at the -exclamations of delight that greeted this proposal. - -“How shall we go, papa?” asked Marjorie, who was always practical. - -“Take the street-cars out to Porter’s Inn,” said papa, “and then walk -the rest of the way. You won’t mind the two miles. Or you can go by -rail, and get out at East Wellsboro’, only you can’t get there very -early that way.” - -The children voted for the street-cars and Porter’s Inn. - -“Shall the kidlets go?” asked Eunice. This was Donald’s name for the -twins, for Eunice and Cricket were the kids. - -“No,” said Marjorie, decidedly. “It’s too far altogether for the twins.” - -Zaidee and Helen immediately set up a wail, at being thus put aside. - -“It’s really much too far for you, my pets,” said mamma. “You and -Kenneth shall go to the park with Eliza and have a fine time. You can -sail around the pond, and feed the swans.” - -“And we’ll bring you lots of strawberries,” added Cricket, comfortingly. - -“Yes, do; and be as successful as you were last summer with the -blackberries,” began papa, with a twinkle, but Cricket pinched him under -the table till he begged for mercy. - -“Couldn’t we ask two or three boys and girls to go with us?” asked -Marjorie. “I’d like to have May Chester and the Gray boys.” - -“Yes, certainly. Ask Jack Fleming, too. Cook shall put you up some -luncheon, and you can take my keys and go into the house, if you like.” - -“Let’s go to-morrow. Things always happen if you put things off,” said -Eunice, not very clearly. - -“Very well, my dear. I’m of your opinion myself,” said papa. “Marjorie, -I’ll take you round to see May Chester, after dinner, and while you’re -there, I’ll look up the boys.” Papa would take any amount of trouble for -the happiness of his flock. - -Everybody proved to be delighted with the idea. The next day was -wonderfully fine, even for June. At nine o’clock the party were all -gathered at the Wards’. Each little person had a wicker-basket, now -containing luncheon, but which were to come home full of the biggest -berries they could find. If they wished, they were to get some big pails -at the farm-house, and ’Gustus John, who was coming into town with fresh -vegetables, would bring them in for the children. - -Papa took them himself to the street-cars, to see the merry party safely -off. - -“Don’t stay too late,” cautioned papa. “On the other hand, you need not -come home at noon,” with a sly glance at Cricket. - -“Papa!” said that young lady, “if you say any more about that, I won’t -come to-night, and then you’ll be sorry.” - -Then the car came, and they were off. - -“Isn’t this larks?” beamed Eunice. Picnics in the country were every-day -affairs, but to start right out from town, to be gone all day, was -particularly fine and grown-up. - -Fortunately, when they were only half-way there, they were the only -occupants of the cars, and they seemed to fill it full. Each one tried -every corner, and each seat between. They read the advertisements -carefully, and tried the effect of reading them backwards. Then they -read a line from each one, and each reading seemed funnier than the -last. - -“Marjorie,” asked Cricket, who had been studying one advertisement -carefully, “what does _Ware_ mean?” - -“Wear?” repeated Marjorie; “why, to put on anything—to wear it.” - -“No, I don’t mean that kind of wear. Look up there. What kind of a ham -is a Wareham?” - -“Where is it? oh, that!” and Marjorie went off in a fit of laughter. -“That doesn’t mean a ham at all. It’s just one word—Wareham. It’s a -place,—Wareham Manufactory.” - -“Oh,” said Cricket, meekly. “I thought it was a new kind of ham.” - -In spite of their fun, it was a long ride to Porter’s Inn, which was the -end of the line. They were glad enough to scramble out and stretch their -limbs. It was a warm morning, and as the white stretch of country road -was unshaded for a long distance, it was a hot, tired little party that -reached Kayuna. As they pushed back the heavy gates, and went up the -avenue, how delicious seemed the cool, green shade of the great beech -trees, and how soft to their feet was the fine turf, along which they -scampered! - -How strange it seemed to the Wards to look up at those shuttered -windows, and see no signs of life about the house! - -“Seems as if I _must_ see Dixie come racing down to meet us,” said -Cricket, “and hear his little ‘row! row!’” But Dixie had been sent to -the rectory to spend the summer, and Mopsie and Charcoal had gone over -to Marbury, so that the children could have them there. - -The workmen had not begun their work yet, so there were no signs of life -about the place. Marjorie had been intrusted with papa’s keys. She felt -very grand, drawing them from her pocket with a flourish, and inserting -one in the door. It swung back with a startlingly loud clang, and a rush -of close, shut-up air came out. The great, echoing hall looked so large -and so lonely that for a moment the children hesitated to enter it. - -Jack found his courage at the sight of the broad, smooth balustrade. - -“Hooray!” he shouted. “My eye! what a boss place to slide down!” - -He dashed off up the stairs, and came bolting down the balustrade again, -sweeping a fine lot of dust before him. The spell was broken, and the -children entered laughing. Once inside, the Wards soon lost the sense of -strangeness, and raced all over the house in great delight, showing -their favourite places to their friends. - -“Do let’s rest,” begged May Chester, at last. “I’m nearly dead!” - -“Let’s go into the library and sit down. It’s always cool and lovely -there,” began Marjorie, leading the way. “Oh, I forgot! The chairs are -all tied up, and it’s so gloomy with the shutters closed. We might sit -down on the stairs.” - -Dusty stairs are not very soft places to rest on, when one is really -tired, however, and they soon decided to go out and sit on the grass. - -In their interest in exploring the house, they had quite forgotten the -strawberries, till Alex Gray suddenly remembered as they stood on the -piazza. - -“Hallo! where are our strawberries? I quite forgot to look and see in -which of the rooms the strawberry bed is placed.” - -“Don’t try to be funny,” said Marjorie, “it’s too hot.” - -“I know where the strawberry bed isn’t,” said Jack, “it isn’t down -cellar,” as he appeared with smutty streaks across his face, showing -where he had been exploring. - -“Let’s rest a few minutes longer under these lovely trees,” pleaded May. -“It will be so hot out in the garden.” - -“Well, I’ll show you,” said Cricket, running down the steps. “I won’t -keep you in suspicion.” - -“In _suspense_,” put in Marjorie. - -“Well, I meant suspense. It’s all the same,” said Cricket, cheerfully. -“Come on, boys! Oh, you _dear_ old trees!” - -“I suppose we might as well all go, then,” said Marjorie, getting up. - -The strawberry beds quite fulfilled Dr. Ward’s accounts of them. The -children fell eagerly to work, their fatigue all forgotten. Such great, -luscious berries as drooped their rosy faces under the leaves would make -everything forgotten but themselves. For a while there were constant -shouts of “Oh, what a beauty!” “My! look at this bunch!” “See these -bouncers!” till beauties and bouncers were an old story. - -“I couldn’t eat another berry to save my life, I do believe!” sighed -Eunice, at last, looking very sad. - -“Eat them, then, to save the berries,” answered Jack, popping a very big -one into her mouth. - -“Now for my part,” said Alex, “I was just going to inquire about -luncheon.” - -The girls, in chorus, protested that they couldn’t eat a mouthful. - -“Well, I like that!” returned Alex. “As if we’d be filled up by a few -berries.” - -“A _few_ berries? oh!” laughed Marjorie. - -“They are soft and not filling,” answered Alex. “What do you think boys -are made of, ma’am?” - -“I know,” answered Cricket, quickly. “They are made like accordiums—to -stretch out.” - -“Accord_ions_,” corrected Marjorie, with a laugh. “Oh, Cricket, you’re -the worst child about long words!” - -“I don’t care,” answered Cricket, comfortably. “People know what I -mean.” - -“Never mind, Spider,” said Alex, “you’re my friend, I see. Come and give -this accordion something to stretch on.” - -“I ought to remember that boys are hollow,” said Marjorie, straightening -up, “after all my experience with Donald and Will and Archie Somers. -Let’s go into the orchard near the old well. It’s always so cool there.” - -When lunch was all spread it looked so tempting that the girls concluded -that they could manage to eat a few mouthfuls, and before long there -wasn’t a morsel of anything left. After luncheon they sat awhile under -the dear old apple-trees, which were of the high, old-fashioned kind, so -that the grass grew thick and soft beneath. The sunlight flecked the -grass with gold, the sky was deeply blue, and a slight breeze had sprung -up. Even the boys felt the quiet, peaceful beauty of the wide, old -orchard, and were quite willing to rest for an hour, while Marjorie and -her sisters told merry tales of their many escapades in dear old Kayuna. - -“Three o’clock,” yawned Jack Fleming, at last. “We ought to go and see -if those strawberries are drying up, don’t you think?” - -“We ought to be about it, if we’re going to take any home,” assented -Marjorie; and they all rose slowly and strolled to the garden again. The -berries were so large and so plentiful, that in a very few minutes every -basket was filled to the brim. - -“Eunice, you and Cricket run down to the farm-house and ask ’Manda for -some big pails,” ordered Marjorie, in true, older-sisterly fashion. - -“All right,” answered Eunice, obediently. “Come on, Cricket. Where is -she? Crick-et!” - -“Here I am,” answered a forlorn little voice. - -“Here,” was in the grape arbour near by. Cricket was discovered sitting -huddled up in a little bunch, with her head on her knees. - -Marjorie hurried across to her. - -“Why, poor little Cricket! What is the matter?” - -“Nothing, I guess, ’cept my head aches so,” Cricket replied, rather -dismally. Her sunny little face was very pale and her eyes looked heavy -and dark. - -“Poor child!” said Marjorie, sympathetically, sitting down beside her. -“It’s the hot sun, I think. Come down to the farm-house with me, and -’Manda will let you lie down for a while.” - -Cricket looked doubtfully out into the sunlight. From the garden it was -not very far across the field down to the farm-house, but the sun looked -very hot. - -“I’d rather stay here, I think, Marjorie,” she said, doubtfully, “my -legs feel so wobbly.” - -“What’s the matter with the kid?” asked Harold Gray, who was a big boy -of fourteen, and very fond of sunny little Cricket. - -“Nothing’s the matter, only my head aches so,” Cricket tried to smile, -but it was a very watery attempt. She so seldom had a headache that it -seemed a very serious thing to her. - -“I want her to go down to the farm-house and lie down, but she doesn’t -feel like walking there,” explained Marjorie. - -“Is that all? That’s easily fixed. Here, Jack, make a lady’s chair with -me, to carry this young lady in. Now, Marjorie, help my lady up.” - -Cricket stood up and the boys lowered their hands. - -“Now, then, put your arms around our shoulders,” said Harold, as they -raised the little girl gently. “That’s right. Put your head down on -mine, if it ‘wobbles’” for Cricket’s throbbing head refused to stay -upright, and bobbed helplessly down on Harold’s. Marjorie ran ahead. - -’Manda saw them coming, and stood at the door ready to greet them. - -“I do declare, I’m proper glad to see you!” she exclaimed, hospitably, -to Marjorie. “’Gustus John he was up to the stables a spell ago, and he -seen you all there a-pickin’ berries, ’n’ he sez when he come in, -‘’Mandy,’ sez he, ‘I ruther guess the children will be along down -bime-by.’ You see yer pa stopped here yesterday, an’ he said that he -’lowed you’d kinder enjoy comin’ out here to pick them berries, an’ here -ye be. La! what’s the matter with Cricket? I ’lowed she wuz bein’ -carried thet way fur fun.” - -The motherly soul was warmly welcoming the children, while her kind -tongue ran on. - -“Cricket has a bad headache, ’Manda,” answered Marjorie; “will you let -her lie down here for a while?” - -“Why, for the land’s sake! Poor little dear! lie down on my sofy? why, -of course she shall,” and she had Cricket in her arms in a moment. “You -all sit right down here for a spell and make yourselves perfectly to -home, while I fix up this poor little critter.” - -“No, we won’t stay now, thank you,” said Marjorie. “Could you let us -have some large pails to fill with berries? Papa says that ’Gustus John -offered to bring our extra berries to town for us to-morrow.” - -“Certain, sure, he did, my dear. You jest go right in the but’try and -git some of them big pails a-settin’ right along side o’ the -flour-barrel. You know where ’tis, _I_ guess. An’ Miss Marjorie, git -some o’ them fresh ginger-cakes I baked this mornin’, they’re on the -but’try shelf, an’ find some milk, an’—” - -“Oh, dear, no, thank you,” protested Marjorie, laughing, “we’ve had -plenty of luncheon, and have filled up all the corners with berries. We -only want some pails.” - -“Now, Madge, Madge, young lady, speak for yourself. I want to test Mrs. -Hecker’s ginger-cakes and milk, for my accordion’s began to close,” said -Alex. - -“Dear me!” cried Marjorie, in despair. “We’ll have to feed you on dried -apples and water. They’ll fill you up, if nothing else will.” - -“Not any, I thank you,” returned Alex, quickly. “I’ve no desire to be a -howling swell.” - -’Manda, meanwhile, had bustled off with Cricket, into the cool, dark, -little best-parlour, and had laid her on the slippery hair-cloth sofa, -with its round, bolster-like pillow, about as downy as if it were -stuffed tight with sawdust. But any place, quiet and dark, was grateful -to the poor little aching head, whose temples throbbed in jerks that -brought tears to the blue eyes. - -Marjorie tiptoed in, presently, to see if she were comfortably fixed, -before they went back for their berries. - -Cricket opened her eyes in answer to Marjorie’s inquiry. ’Manda had gone -out of the room for a moment. - -“Where’s Mamie Hecker?” whispered Cricket. - -“Don’t worry about her, dear. She’s gone to spend a week with her Aunt -Jane. You’re safe.” - -“Oh!” Cricket closed her eyes in great relief, then opened them as she -said, miserably, “I can’t walk a step now, and I don’t believe I could -sit up in the car. I don’t see how I’m going to get home.” - -“That’s all right,” said Marjorie, soothingly, “for ’Gustus John is -going to drive us to Porter’s Inn, and if you’re well enough you will go -then, but if you don’t feel able, ’Manda wants you to stay all night. -They’ll send you to town in the morning, with ’Gustus John. You wouldn’t -mind staying, would you?” - -“Oh, no,” said Cricket, feeling much too badly to care about anything -but lying still. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - LEFT BEHIND. - - -The children’s voices died away in the distance. Presently the door -opened carefully, and ’Manda came in, with a big pillow and a tumbler. - -“There, now, dearie,” she said, setting down her tumbler, and slipping -the big, soft pillow under Cricket’s head. “That’s a sight better. That -sofy pillow, ’taint very soft. I’d hev taken you right into my room an’ -put you to bed, but it’s awful hot there now, being right off the -kitchen so, ’n’ upstairs is hot, too. You’re a little mite sick to your -stomick, too, ain’t you? I thought so. Now drink this lemonade, an’ it -will kinder stop that gnawin’ feeling quicker nor a wink.” - -“Lemonade?” repeated Cricket, lifting her heavy eyes in surprise. “When -I’m sick?” for she associated, naturally, any illness with medicines. -“Won’t it hurt me?” - -“Bless your little heart, no. It won’t hurt you a mite. It’ll settle -your stomick wonderful, that’s all. ’Taint very sweet.” - -’Manda slipped her hand under the pillow and raised the aching head so -gently that Cricket scarcely felt it move. She drained the tumbler -obediently, though the lemonade _was_ rather sour. Then she nestled down -into the soft pillow with a sigh of relief. ’Manda sat by her, waving a -big palm-leaf fan, with a slow, even motion. The silence and the -darkness soon began to soothe the throbbing pain, and Cricket at last -dropped into a fitful doze, that soon became a sound sleep. - -An hour passed, and ’Manda heard the children’s voices as they came -across the field again. She tiptoed softly from the room,’sh-ing them -all, with uplifted finger. - -“She’s jest dropped asleep, poor little mite,” she said, in answer to -their anxious, whispered inquiries. “Yes, Miss Marjorie, you jest leave -her to-night, an’ ’Gustus John, he’ll fetch her in town in the mornin’, -all right.” - -“Sha’n’t I stay with her?” asked Eunice. - -“There ain’t no need, Miss Eunice, I’d be proper glad to hev you, but -there ain’t no need, ’less you particular wish it. I’ll jest admire to -hev Cricket stay, and take care of her myself. La, suz! there won’t be -no need of anybody’s takin’ care, I rather guess, for like’s not, when -she wakes up, her headache’ll be all gone, an’ prob’bly by six o’clock -she’ll be wantin’ to go after the caows. No, Miss Eunice, you kin jest -as well as not go right along with the others, an’ be sure an’ tell your -ma that I jest _admire_ to hev Cricket stay.” - -“I know you’ll take good care of her,” said Marjorie, hesitating. “I -only hope Cricket won’t feel lonely or homesick when she wakes up.” - -“Oh, law! no; don’t you worrit now, Miss Marjorie. She needs her sleep -out, thet’s all. The hot sun an’ the berries was too much for her. What -a sight of berries you’ve got! Never wuz a better crop than this year. -Pity yer missin’ the season.” - -The party looked with much satisfaction at the result of their labours. -Four six-quart pails overflowing with luscious fruit stood in a row on -the steps, and besides that, their lunch baskets were filled to the -brim. - -“I’m real sorry you told ’Gustus John that you wasn’t goin’ to stop to -have a bite of victuals with us, for here he comes now with the team. -Must you go?” - -“It’s after five,” answered Marjorie, “and it will be nearly seven -before we got home now. Yes, we must go. Well, we are so much obliged, -’Manda.” - -“Well now, I’m sure you’ve no call to be. You dunno how I’m goin’ to -miss yer all this summer. Don’t know what we’ll do without you an’ -Cricket an’ all your pranks,” added ’Manda, turning to Eunice. - -’Gustus John and his big wagon came round from the barn just then. - -“Pile in, young folks,” he said, cheerily. “Tain’t a very handsome -kerridge, but I guess you’ll find it considerable better than walkin’ -over to Porter’s Inn, when you’re dead beat out. All in? Oh, ’Mandy, -give us some ginger-cakes or sumthin’ to eat goin’ along, bein’ as they -won’t stay to set by.” - -“Yes, I’ve a basket full all ready,” said ’Manda, producing one, amid -the protests of the children—even the “accordion” boys—that they -couldn’t eat another mouthful of anything. - -“But I can’t go without seeing Cricket,” exclaimed Marjorie, suddenly -stopping. - -“Now, then, Miss Marjorie, I ain’t a-goin to hev you disturbin’ the -child,” said ’Manda, hastily, who down in her heart was dreadfully -afraid that Cricket might wake up and want to go home with the others, -when she had set her heart on having her stay. “She’ll sleep a good -spell yet, if she’s let to. You couldn’t do her no good ef you did see -her, an’ it might jest spile her nap.” - -“Perhaps it’s better not,” Marjorie said, reluctantly. “I suppose that -she will be all right to-night anyway, though she scarcely ever had a -headache before in her life. And you’ll bring her in to-morrow, ’Gustus -John? I do hope that she won’t mind being left.” - -“Now don’t you fuss about that,” said ’Gustus John. “’Manda, she thinks -it’s a real Godsend, bein’ as Mamie’s away. ’Mandy sets great store by -Cricket, you know. All ready now? Off we go!” - -’Gustus John had promised to bring all the big pails of berries in town -when he went in the next morning, so the children had only their little -baskets with them. Everybody was in place now, and with many good-bys -and thanks to ’Manda, the merry party started. - -It was after five when ’Manda went bustling back into the house to -prepare supper. There was no sound from the parlour yet, and she -concluded that Cricket was still sleeping. - -“I’ll jest take a peek at the little dear,” she said, presently. “Like’s -not she’s awake by this time, and will want some supper.” - -’Manda had always been devoted to Cricket. She had lived with Mrs. Ward -as nurse when Cricket was a baby, and the little girl was more than a -year old when ’Manda married ’Gustus John, the doctor’s farmer. So -Cricket had always been her especial pet. - -She opened the parlour door gently and looked in. Cricket opened her -eyes with a smile. - -“Oh, ’Manda! my head is ever so much better. It doesn’t ache scarcely at -all. Have the others come in from the strawberry field yet?” - -“La, suz! yes, dear heart. They come and went, mebbe half an hour ago. -You wuz a sleepin’ so nice that we didn’t like to wake you up.” - -“Gone!” exclaimed Cricket, feeling for the first moment as if she were -deserted on a desert island. “Why, what am I going to do?” - -“You’re goin’ to stay with ’Manda to-night, my pretty. That won’t be -bad, will it?” - -“No,” faltered Cricket, but she felt very forlorn and homesick, -nevertheless. - -She loved kind ’Manda dearly, and since Mamie was not there it was not -quite so bad, but she scarcely ever spent a night away from home without -her mother in her little life. Cricket was such a “mother child.” - -She sat up, but she found that her head still felt a little faint and -dizzy when she moved. Two little tears crept up into her eyes. How could -she go to bed without mamma! - -“I want my mother!” real sobs now. - -“There, there, my pretty! don’t cry!” soothed ’Manda, much distressed, -as she gathered her nursling into her motherly arms. - -“Mommer ain’t here, but ’Mandy will take such _good_ care of you, an’ -it’s jest fur to-night. To-morrow mornin’, ’Gustus John, he’s got to be -off real early, an’ you’ll hev to be up with the birds, I guess, an’ -you’ll hev a bee-you-tiful ride in town. An’ then,” ’Mandy went on, -forgetting that Cricket was not a baby, as she settled her head more -comfortably on her broad bosom, “after tea, to-night, if your’s feelin’ -reel smart, there ain’t nuthin’ to hender our takin’ a little walk down -to the village to see Hilda Mason. She’s goin’ to miss you a sight this -summer.” - -Cricket began to feel that the situation had its advantages, after all. -’Manda’s lap was very comfortable, her shoulder very soft and plump, and -her arms very loving, so that Cricket could not stay forlorn long, -especially when there was the thought of seeing Hilda Mason so soon. So -she obeyed ’Manda’s advice to “chirk up,” and soon felt like going out -on the little front porch to sit, while ’Manda finished getting supper. - -Then ’Gustus John and the two “hired men” came in, and with Sarah, the -rosy-cheeked “hired girl,” they all sat down to the cosey, homely meal. - -’Manda would not let Cricket sit with the others, but she had put her in -state at a little square table near by, all by herself. The little table -was spread with ’Manda’s best china, to do honour to her little guest, -and special dainties in the way of preserves and cake were set for her. -Cricket enjoyed her supper, with the “warmed-over” potatoes, great -slices of fresh bread and butter, dried beef, cottage cheese and -pickles, cold meat, two kinds of preserves, berries and three kinds of -cake. Such a mixture, you will say; but Cricket was hungry enough now to -taste a little of everything, and she enjoyed it all. - -[Illustration: CRICKET AND ’MANDA.] - -By seven o’clock Cricket felt quite as well as ever, and skipped and -pranced, just as usual, along the road that led to Hilda’s home, while -’Manda followed, one broad smile of content. - -Hilda was more than delighted to see Cricket, of course, and the little -girls had a lovely time together. Hilda had been invited to go over to -Marbury to stay for a week in August, with Cricket, at grandma’s, and, -of course, the children were delighted to make arrangements for that -important visit. - -It was nine o’clock when Cricket and ’Manda returned to the farm-house, -in the moonlight. It seemed odd enough not to go on up the hill when -they came to the little bridge, but instead to turn in at the white -gate, and Cricket felt a little spasm of homesickness, which increased -when she was fairly inside the house, and ’Manda lighted the candle for -her to go upstairs. How she did want mamma and Eunice! Fortunately, she -was really too tired now, to think very much about anything but getting -to bed. - -The funny little spare-room had a huge bedstead in it, an old-fashioned -one, with four posts and curtains, and an immense feather bed on it. -When ’Manda lifted her up and swung her over into it, she sank so far -down, that the sides rose on each side of her like billows, and the -sheet, spread across, did not touch her at all. But she was in the Land -of Nod almost before she could say a sleepy “Good-night” to kind ’Manda, -and she knew nothing more. - -It was six o’clock, and broad daylight, of course, when ’Manda came in -to awaken her. Sleepy Cricket could hardly realize that there had been -any night at all. She rubbed her drowsy eyes open with much difficulty, -and ’Manda helped her through her toilet. ’Gustus John had to start for -town by seven o’clock, and the wagon already stood in the yard, loaded -up with vegetables and things for the market. ’Gustus John, himself, and -one hired man, were coming to the house with pails of foaming milk, and -another man was harnessing the big, black horses to the wagon. - -Breakfast was over at last. The pails of strawberries were snugly tucked -away under the front seat, and everything was ready to start. ’Manda -gave her little guest many a parting hug and kiss, and said she didn’t -see how she ever _was_ going to stand it, not to have the doctor’s -family at Kayuna, and the children junketin’ around, just the same as -usual. Cricket hugged and kissed her in return, and then ’Gustus John -swung her up on the high front seat, where she sat, holding on to the -back, with her feet swinging above the pails of strawberries. - -It always seemed delightfully dangerous on that front seat where there -was no dash-board, and where there seemed to be nothing to prevent her -lurching down on the horses’ broad backs if the wagon pitched over -“thank-you-marms.” ’Gustus John, in his blue blouse and broad-brimmed -hat, climbed heavily up beside her, gave a final glance over his load, -cracked his whip, and off they started with a sudden jerk that brought -Cricket’s toes very unexpectedly on a level with her head, and nearly -sent her pitching back into the spring peas and asparagus. - -It was a very different trip from the one they had taken last fall. -’Manda’s parting word to ’Gustus John was that he must be careful and -not lose Cricket out, at which ’Gustus responded,— - -“Sho!” - -He never liked to be reminded of that accident. The horses settled down -to their farm-work jog, not in the least like the brisk trot they had -when they were harnessed to the light wagon. They knew quite well that -they had a load behind them and a long pull before them, and took it -easily. - -The air was fresh and sweet, the birds twittered and chirped, the -morning dew lay like diamonds on the grass, and Cricket, who, as we -know, had a special delight in rising early, drew a long breath of -pleasure. She chattered gayly away, and ’Gustus John, in turn, told her -exciting tales of that wonderful time of long ago—“When I was a little -boy.” - -It was not yet nine when the wagon clattered over the long bridge, and -they were fairly in town. They had to go more slowly then. They drove to -May Chester’s first to leave her strawberries, Cricket pointing out the -way, then to Jack Fleming’s and the Grays’. Then they turned into the -home-street and drew up before her own door. Cricket felt, as ’Gustus -John lifted her down from her high perch, that she must have made a trip -to Europe, for it seemed so long since she had left there, yesterday -morning. - -“I’m so much obliged to you for this lovely ride, ’Gustus John,” she -said, as they went up the steps, ’Gustus carrying her berries. “I’ve had -the elegantest time riding in this morning and having you tell me -stories.” - -“Wal, now, I tell you,” said ’Gustus John, “I’d give considerbul down, -ef I had yer to ride in with me every time I come to the city. We’d hev -purty snug times, wouldn’t we, eh? Good-by. Remember me to yer pa and -ma. Good-by.” - -And Cricket, throwing him a kiss from the tips of her fingers, vanished -in the house. - - - THE END. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in - spelling. - 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - 3. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRICKET *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/67430-0.zip b/old/67430-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b248e53..0000000 --- a/old/67430-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h.zip b/old/67430-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0aae356..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/67430-h.htm b/old/67430-h/67430-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 5447483..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/67430-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10066 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta charset="UTF-8" /> - <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cricket, by Elizabeth Westyn Timlow</title> - <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> - <style> /* <![CDATA[ */ - body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } - h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; } - h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; } - .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; - text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; - border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; - font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; } - p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } - .sc { font-variant: small-caps; } - .large { font-size: large; } - .small { font-size: small; } - .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } - .x-ebookmaker .lg-container-b { clear: both; } - .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: justify; } - .x-ebookmaker .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; } - .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } - .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } - .linegroup .in4 { padding-left: 5.0em; } - .linegroup .in8 { padding-left: 7.0em; } - .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em; } - ol.ol_1 {padding-left: 0; margin-left: 2.78%; margin-top: .5em; - margin-bottom: .5em; list-style-type: decimal; } - div.pbb { page-break-before: always; } - hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; } - .x-ebookmaker hr.pb { display: none; } - .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } - .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; } - div.figcenter p { text-align: center; text-indent: 0; } - .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } - .id001 { width:40%; } - .x-ebookmaker .id001 { margin-left:30%; width:40%; } - .ic001 { width:100%; } - .ig001 { width:100%; } - .table0 { margin: auto; margin-top: 2em; } - .nf-center { text-align: center; } - .nf-center-c0 { text-align: justify; margin: 0.5em 0; } - .c000 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c001 { margin-top: 4em; } - .c002 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em; } - .c003 { margin-top: 2em; } - .c004 { margin-top: 1em; } - .c005 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } - .c006 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; } - .c007 { vertical-align: top; text-align: justify; text-indent: -1em; - padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; } - .c008 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; } - .c009 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c010 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c011 { margin-top: 1em; font-size: .9em; } - .c012 { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;background-color:#E3E4FA; - border:thin solid silver; margin:2em 10% 0 10%; font-family: Georgia, serif; - } - .covernote { visibility: hidden; display: none; } - div.tnotes p { text-align: justify; } - .x-ebookmaker .covernote { visibility: visible; display: block; } - .figcenter {font-size: .9em; page-break-inside: avoid; max-width: 100%; } - .x-ebookmaker img {max-height: 30em; max-width: 100%; } - p,h1,h2,h3 { clear: both; } - .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } - .ol_1 li {font-size: .9em; } - .x-ebookmaker .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: 0em; } - body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } - table {font-size: .9em; padding: 1.5em .5em 1em; page-break-inside: avoid; - clear: both; } - div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; } - div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } - .ph1 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; - margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; } - .ph2 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; - page-break-before: always; } - .fixed {font-family: 'Old English Text MT', serif; font-weight:bold; } - .x-ebookmaker p.dropcap:first-letter { float: left; } - /* ]]> */ </style> - </head> - <body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Cricket, by Elizabeth Westyn Timlow</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <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: Cricket</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Elizabeth Westyn Timlow</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Harriet R. Richards</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 18, 2022 [eBook #67430]</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: Richard Tonsing, Louise Davies, 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 CRICKET ***</div> - -<div class='tnotes covernote'> - -<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p> - -<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>CRICKET</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div id='Frontispiece' class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/ill_001.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>HOW CRICKET DELIVERED THE MESSAGE.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='titlepage'> - -<div> - <h1 class='c002'>CRICKET</h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div class='c004'><span class='large'>ELIZABETH WESTYN TIMLOW</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='small'>ILLUSTRATED BY</span></div> - <div><span class='sc'>Harriet R. Richards</span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='large'>BOSTON</span></div> - <div><span class='large'>ESTES AND LAURIAT</span></div> - <div>PUBLISHERS</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='small'><i>Copyright, 1895</i>,</span></div> - <div><span class='small'><span class='sc'>By Estes and Lauriat</span></span></div> - <div class='c003'><span class='small'><i>Typography and Printing by</i></span></div> - <div><span class='small'><i>C. H. Simonds & Co.</i></span></div> - <div><span class='small'><i>Electrotyping by Geo. C. Scott & Sons</i></span></div> - <div><span class='small'><i>Boston, U. S. A.</i></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='small'>TO</span></div> - <div><span class='fixed'>My Little God-Daughter</span>,</div> - <div>HELEN MUNN.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_v'>v</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0'> - <tr> - <th class='c006'><span class='small'>CHAPTER</span></th> - <th class='c007'> </th> - <th class='c008'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>I.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_11'>11</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>II.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The Quarrel</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_22'>22</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>III.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Damming the Brook</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_34'>34</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The Consequences</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_43'>43</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>V.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Fourth of July</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_50'>50</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Making Ice-Cream</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_61'>61</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Mopsie</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_71'>71</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>VIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>What Mopsie did</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_80'>80</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>IX.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The Kittens</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>X.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Elspeth</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_97'>97</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>In the Garret</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_104'>104</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The Tramps</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_114'>114</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Mamie Hecker</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_124'>124</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Lynch-Law</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_133'>133</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Going to the Cider Mill</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_144'>144</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XVI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The Runaway</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XVII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Going Blackberrying</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_158'>158</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XVIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Coming Home</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_172'>172</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XIX.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>What Zaidee and Helen Found</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_183'>183</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='pageno' id='Page_vi'>vi</span> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XX.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Mamie’s Message</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_195'>195</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>The New Cow</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_204'>204</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Mamie’s Repentance</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_215'>215</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>When Mamma was a Little Girl</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_223'>223</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXIV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Mamma’s Bank</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_234'>234</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXV.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Going Back to Town</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_242'>242</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXVI.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket’s Short Memory</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_254'>254</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXVII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket’s Boomerang</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_267'>267</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXVIII.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Kenneth’s Day</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_284'>284</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXIX.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>A Strawberry Hunt</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_293'>293</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'> </td> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>XXX.</td> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Left Behind</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_309'>309</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span> - <h2 class='c005'>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> -</div> - -<table class='table0'> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>How Cricket Delivered the Message</span></td> - <td class='c008'><i><a href='#Frontispiece'>Frontispiece</a></i></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <th class='c007'></th> - <th class='c008'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Hilda by the Brook</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_024'>25</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Celebrating the 4th of July</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_056'>57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Eunice and Cricket Watching the Other Children</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_088'>89</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket and Eunice Threaten to Punish Mamie</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_134'>135</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket Trying to Catch the Minnows</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_164'>165</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket Finds Eunice Unconscious</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_208'>209</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'> </td> - <td class='c008'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c007'><span class='sc'>Cricket and ’Manda</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#ill_316'>317</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='chapter ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>CRICKET</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER I.<br /> <span class='large'>CRICKET.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Kayuna was the loveliest home in the world. -At least, the Ward children said so. The -family usually went out of the city as soon as -the children’s schools closed, in June, and stayed -in the country till quite the first of October.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kayuna was also the name of a brook that -danced gayly through the lower part of the -grounds of the summer home, and that was a -never-failing delight to the children. The -house itself was wide, old-fashioned and roomy, -with <i>such</i> a splendid great garret as you never -saw before, for rainy days.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Do you want to know how many Wards there -were? Well, let me count. Of course, first -to be mentioned came Doctor papa, and dear, -beautiful mamma, who was never very strong. -Then there was Donald, who was seventeen, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>a big fellow, as well, and Marjorie, who was two -years younger, but who already began to give -herself grown-up airs. Eunice was next, nearly -twelve. Then came Cricket, the “middleman.” -They never knew whether to take her -with the older ones, or leave her at home with -the small fry. Donald would call her “trundlebed -trash,” to her great indignation. Her name -was really Jean, but she was such a chirpy, -cheery little soul, that Cricket seemed just to -suit her. Below her were the six-year-old twins; -and, lastly, baby Kenneth, everybody’s pet, who -was nearly three.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Wasn’t that a house full? And such a -noise as they were equal to when they set about -it! Mamma often said that it was fortunate -that the roof was high and the walls were -strong, else surely the house would have come -down about their ears.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This year, to the wild delight of the entire family, -papa had decided to go out into the country -very early, on mamma’s account, for she needed -the country air. So the middle of April found -them comfortably settled for a long, lovely -summer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was so early that papa thought it quite -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>worth while for Eunice and Cricket, at least, to -go to the country school for the rest of the -term, while the older ones had lessons at home -with him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket, especially, was greatly delighted with -this arrangement. Her little friend, Hilda -Mason, of whom she was very fond, of course -went to school, and it was such fun going -together. The little girls were delighted to -be with each other, and Hilda always looked -forward to the summer, when Cricket would -come out into the country.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda was a year older than Cricket, for she -was eleven in June, and Cricket was ten in -August. By reason of this extra year, she -always thought Cricket should do just as she, -Hilda, wanted.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda was an only child, and lived with her -mother and grandmother, who thought her -perfect. Cricket, on the other hand, was very -used to giving up her own way, as children in a -large family generally are. Hilda was a quiet, -demure little girl, with polite, grown-up manners. -She always remembered to say “How-do-you -do!” and that mamma sent her love, and -she never forgot any errand she was sent on.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>Cricket was a heedless little witch, and -rarely, by any chance, remembered anything she -was told to do. Her father always said that -any errand she was given meant two, for she -was never known to bring home both her package -and her change at the same time.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda was pretty, with big brown eyes and -long, orderly, golden curls. She was plump -and straight, and rather proper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket had short, brown curls, every one of -which took a different kink, and gray-blue eyes -that twinkled like merry little stars. She was -thin and tall for her age, and her papa used to -tease her by calling her long legs “knitting-needles,” -and offering them to mamma for her -fancy knitting.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Every morning Hilda called for Cricket on -her way to school. If Cricket had gone off -earlier, having been sent on some errand, as -often happened, she left a little red stone on the -gate-post, as a sign to her little friend that she -had gone. If Hilda came by early and couldn’t -stop, as seldom happened, she picked up the -little red stone from its hiding-place, and left it -for Cricket to see.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But, usually, Hilda turned in at the gates -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>promptly at twenty minutes of nine, and walked -up the long avenue, around to the side piazza. -Then she would open the door, and call gently -up the side staircase, “Ready, Cricket?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A voice from above would answer, promptly, -“I’m coming. Have you got your sums?” -and Cricket would come out of her room at the -head of the stairs, giving a last, smoothing -touch to her kinky hair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then she would plunge down stairs, usually -arriving at the bottom by way of the bannisters, -provided she did not trip at the top and come -down head-foremost. Next would follow a wild -search for her hat, until she remembered she -had left it last night in the grape arbour; -then her sacque must be found, and that was -probably hanging on some tree,—where she -had taken it off to climb better. Strange to -say, her books were generally at hand, for heedless -Cricket loved to study.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda always carried her school-books in a -neat little bag, for she said that a strap bent the -edges of the books. Cricket strapped hers as -tightly as possible, for she liked to swing them -by the long end as she walked along. Besides, -they made a splendid thing to throw at a stray -cat,—which she never hit.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>By the time she was fairly ready, Eunice -would appear, fresh and sweet and unhurried. -Then Hilda and Eunice would walk quietly -down the piazza steps, while Cricket would say, -“Want to see me jump off the piazza as far as -that stone?” Off she would shoot through the -air, and, alighting, would race down the avenue, -to wait panting at the gate till Hilda and Eunice -should come up. Then for two minutes, perhaps, -they would keep side by side, while they -talked over those dreadful decimals, which they -hated so.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda and Eunice kept straight along the -shady path, but Cricket was seldom known to -walk. She ran, she skipped, she danced, she -went backward, and varied the way still further -by betaking herself to the stone fences, wherever -they were smooth enough on top.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When they arrived at school Hilda was -orderly, cool and sweet, and as trim as if she -had just left her mother’s hands; Cricket had -riotous looking clothes, hot, tumbled curls, hat -hanging off her head, but was always dimpling -and smiling, and serenely sure that every one -would greet her with a shout.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice sat with her particular friend, Edith -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>Craig, but Cricket and Hilda shared the same -desk, to the distraction of the long-suffering -teacher. She was always threatening to separate -them, but her heart would melt, at the last -minute, at their beseeching looks and penitent -vows to be good and study hard, and never -whisper any more. They usually did have their -lessons, as it happened, for they were both -bright, and both fond of study.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda was not altogether a favourite, for she -was apt to be both selfish and exacting, often a -little jealous, and always determined to be first -in everything. She was quick in all her studies -but her arithmetic, and here Cricket excelled, -greatly to Hilda’s disgust. Many a time she -slyly rubbed out Cricket’s just completed work, -and the surprised child would presently whisper, -“Did you ever! I’ve gone and rubbed out my -to-morrow’s examples by mistake. Did you -ever see such a goose?” and by the time she -had done them again, Hilda would have been -able to make up her work.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Altogether their friendship was just on this -basis: Hilda always wanted her own way, and -Cricket was willing she should have it; so they -got on swimmingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>Nevertheless, one day they quarrelled. It -happened in this wise:</p> - -<p class='c010'>Playing charades was one of the children’s -favourite amusements. At Kayuna there was a -fine, large nursery, opening off the wide hall, -which gave a splendid field for action, and the -good-natured nurse was always ready to help -them out with their plans.</p> - -<p class='c010'>One rainy Saturday the whole troop were indoors, -and after luncheon charades were voted for. -There were Eunice and her little friend, -Edith Craig, Hilda, Cricket, the twins, Helen -and Zaidee, and Kenneth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth was a star, by the way. He was -always willing to be pulled about like a rag-doll, -and really seemed to enjoy it. They would roll -him up for a caterpillar, and stand him up -straight for a post, and sprawl him out for a -spider. He would take any position they put -him in, as if he were wax, and would inquire -anxiously, after the scene was over, “Did I do -zat all right?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>On this particular day, for some reason, none -of them were quite as good-natured as usual. -Perhaps they had been together rather too long, -for Edith and Hilda had both arrived quite -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>early, and had stayed to luncheon. Perhaps, -also, the unusual confinement in the house made -them all a little irritable.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children usually divided themselves into -actors and audience, by turns. Cricket and -Hilda had the stage now, with Kenneth as support. -Eunice and Edith, with the twins, therefore, -were audience.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The little actors were searching their brains -for a new word to act. “Penobscot,” and “connundrum,” -and “goldsmith,” and “antidote” -had already been used, with dozens of others.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know,” cried Cricket, brightening up. -“Let’s take <i>secure</i>.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<i>Secure?</i> Well, how shall we do it?” questioned -Hilda.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, sick-cure, of course,” answered Cricket, -promptly. “Won’t that do? In the first scene, -Kenneth would be sick—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I’d be the doctor,” put in Hilda.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I’d be his mother,” went on Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I’d come and see him and give him -some pills—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And in the next scene we’d <i>cure</i> him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I ’on’t tate any pills,” announced the baby -behind them, unexpectedly, and very decidedly.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>“Oh, yes, you will,” said Hilda, impatiently, -“they won’t taste bad—just little make-believe -pills.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t lite ’em,” wailed the baby, rebelling, -for the first time, against his elders. He was -tired, poor little fellow, for he had gone through -many experiences that afternoon. He had been -wound on to a lap-board with shawls, to represent -an Esquimau baby. He had been placed -on a very insecure table, with newspaper wings -tied on his bare shoulders, to pose as a Cupid. -Besides this, he had been Daniel in the lion’s -den, with Zaidee and Helen as lions, growling -and spitting so frightfully around him, and making -such an alarming pretence of eating him up, -that he had fled, in sudden dismay, to the audience, -to take refuge behind Cricket, who was -always his protection in times of trouble.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now, the suggestion of pills was more than -the little fellow could stand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just pretend, baby dear,” coaxed Cricket. -“See, I’ll sit down here with this funny old cap -on, and this shawl over my shoulders, and I’ll -play I’m your mamma,” dressing herself as she -spoke. “And then,” she went on, “you can lie -on my lap, this way, and Hilda will put on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>Donald’s overcoat and those big spectacles. -Just see how funny she looks! and she’ll put -that fur cap on her head, and she’ll come in -and feel your pulse, and say, ‘Very sick child, -marm.’ And then, she will only just <i>pretend</i> to -give you some pills.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth still looked doubtful, but Cricket -caught up a shawl and wrapped it around him, -and drew his head down.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s a good boy. Put your head down on -mamma’s arm,” she said, still coaxingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I doesn’t ’ant to,” fretted Kenneth, but, -nevertheless, he stretched himself obediently on -Cricket’s lap. As his head dropped back, he -shut his eyes very tightly, as he was told, and -opened his mouth very wide, as he always did, -in the funniest way, whenever he shut his eyes -to order.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER II.<br /> <span class='large'>THE QUARREL.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Now, Hilda was a good deal of a tease, in a -quiet way. The little fellow looked so funny as -he lay there with closely shut eyes, and wide-open -mouth, that, quick as a flash, came the impulse -to throw something in it. She turned to -the washstand close by, where was still standing -some water in which they had just washed their -hands. Nurse’s big thimble was on the washstand -also, and Hilda snatched it up, and -emptied a thimbleful of the water right down -the poor baby’s throat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a gurgle, a howl, a choke, and Kenneth -lay gasping and struggling for breath, for -the water had gone down his little windpipe. -The audience from the hall, and nurse from an -adjoining room, came rushing in. Poor little -Kenneth was purple in the face. Nurse snatched -him up and patted his back, and blew in his -mouth, to make him catch his breath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda stood frightened at the mischief she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>had unthinkingly done. Cricket turned upon -her, in a sudden blind fury of rage, for almost -the first time in her life.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You mean, mean, horrid girl! To treat my -baby so! I hate you, there! You’re always doing -mean things, and you always take the biggest -of everything, and you’ve made baby cry -before.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You <i>are</i> mean,” chimed in Eunice; “I’ve -seen you rub out Cricket’s sums, and I always -meant to tell everybody, when I got a good -chance.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I know who ate up all my candy,” -added Edith.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You tooked my dolly and hided her, and I -cried!” put in Zaidee, joining the attacking -force.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I know who’s a sneak, and told on -Mabel Wilson, when none of the other girls -would!” cried Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re the selfishest, meanest old thing!” -it was Cricket’s turn again. She had gotten -hold of Kenneth now, and he was clinging with -both arms around the neck of his favourite sister.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To pour that horrid, dirty water down his -throat, just to tease him,” went on Cricket, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>furiously. “I’ll never forgive you, and I won’t -play with you any more, forever ’n’ ever, ’n’ I -wish you’d go home this moment, Hilda Mason, -there!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda stared helplessly, as the unexpected -words rained around her. Could they be really -talking to <i>her</i>? Was it her little Cricket who -was blazing like a little fury, and actually telling -her to go home? She was quite too -frightened to speak, at first, as the angry group -around her all talked at once.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I didn’t mean,” she faltered, at last; then -she, too, burst into angry tears. “You’re -horrid, rude girls to say such things to company,” -she sobbed. “I’m going straight home -to tell mamma how you treated me, and she’ll -never let me come here again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’d better go right away, Miss Hilda,” -said nurse, dryly, and she brought the little -girl’s hat and put on her sacque. Hilda had -never been at all a favourite with her, for she -had often seen her slyly tease the little ones.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda marched off abused, excited and angry. -The idea—the very <i>idea</i> of such language to -her, to Hilda Mason, whom everybody called so -good, and who was used to being held up as the -model child of the neighbourhood.</p> - -<div id='ill_024' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span> -<img src='images/ill_024.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>HILDA BY THE BROOK.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>And Cricket, her dear Cricket, whom she -really loved heartily, had told her she hated -her, and would never forgive her, and wouldn’t -ever play with her any more.</p> - -<p class='c010'>What had she done to deserve all this? -Why, nothing at all; only poured a little water -down the baby’s throat, when he looked so -funny, lying there with his eyes squeezed shut, -and his mouth wide open. She didn’t know it -would choke him so; of course she didn’t -mean to hurt him. Such a fuss about nothing. -Then, suddenly, they all flew at her, and said -dreadful things, right before nurse. Hilda did -not realize that such an outbreak is seldom as -sudden as it seems, and that many grievances -will often smoulder for a long time, till some -trifle fires the flame.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She walked along, miserable enough, half-crying, -half-indignant. The rain had ceased, and -the sky had cleared, so she stopped by the brook -in the grassy lane, which the children used as a -short cut, and sat down by the little bridge. -She was ashamed to go on into the village -street while she was crying.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Here she and Cricket had spent many happy -hours, and had never, never quarrelled before. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>She did not stop to think, then, to whom the -credit of this belonged. Cricket certainly -always did as Hilda wished, but she was sure -she was equally ready to do as Cricket wished, -wasn’t she? She began to think. Cricket -always liked to keep on through the woods to -Hilda’s house, while she liked to strike off into -the village street. How seldom they went -through the woods, although it was nearer, and -Cricket liked it so well! Cricket loved marsh-mallows, -while Hilda was devoted to chocolate-creams; -but when they spent their weekly pennies -together for candy, as they always did, how -was it they so rarely bought marsh-mallows? -Hilda’s conscience pricked her faintly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I am always willing she should buy -them, if she’d just say she would, any way,” she -reflected, uneasily.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But then, Cricket never did say she “would, -anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>What a delight it was to her little friend to -be out in the fields and woods, searching out the -earliest wild-flowers, exploring for the first chestnuts, -perfectly happy if she were simply out-of-doors. -She, herself, preferred quiet, indoor -sports and dolls, excepting when the weather -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>just suited her, and was neither too warm nor -too cold. Did they ever stay out when she did -not wish to?</p> - -<p class='c010'>And she <i>did</i> rub out Cricket’s examples, often -and often.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket was so quick,” she argued, with her -conscience, “and she could do them right over, -and she didn’t like to get behind herself. -Cricket was such a silly, not to guess it.” -And why shouldn’t she take the biggest of -anything? One of them had to have it, and -she was the oldest. Still, she remembered, -with another faint sting of conscience, she -didn’t like it when Eunice took things for the -same reason, and Cricket had to yield to them -both.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Had Cricket ever been heard telling the twins -they must do certain things because they were -younger?</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda began to feel very queerly. She was -so used to praise and petting, that the plain -speeches she had heard had almost taken her -breath away, true though they were. Cricket -was always being lectured, because she was -careless and disorderly, and heedless and forgetful, -and Hilda had always felt superior. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>But was she really horrid? was she hateful? -was she selfish? was she a sneak?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamma doesn’t think so, anyway,” she -said, with a little sob. But it was that very -morning, when she asked permission to go and -see Cricket, that her mother had hesitated, and -said,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought perhaps you would be willing to -stay at home this morning, darling. My head -aches badly, and poor, sick grandmamma says -she has scarcely seen her little girl this week.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Hilda looked so abused that her mother -hastened to add,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Never mind, dear, go on and have a good -time, but I would like you to come home to -lunch;” and the little girl had neglected her -mother’s words, as of no importance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was a very sober, subdued Hilda, who, -much later, slipped quietly into the house.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her mother had been in bed all day, with one -of her worst headaches, the maid said, and she -herself had been sitting with grandmamma, and -reading to her, for the old lady felt very lonely. -Hilda winced as she thought of that hard, rasping -voice reading to an invalid.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mrs. Mason heard her little girl’s voice and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>spoke to her, and Hilda crept quietly into her -mother’s room. She knew, well enough, that -her little soft fingers had magic power to drive -away mamma’s nervous headaches, but usually -it was “such a bother” to sit in the darkened -room, that often, as she now guiltily remembered, -she had slipped away, when she knew -mamma had a headache, lest she should be -asked to do it. Oh, she was a selfish, selfish -Hilda!</p> - -<p class='c010'>That night, when her head was better, -mamma and Hilda had a long talk. The whole -story came out, and Hilda confessed that she -believed that she was the horridest, selfishest -girl in the whole town. And her mother’s -tears fell quietly and fast, as she realized, for -the first time, how she had been spoiling her -darling. Because her little daughter was dainty -and orderly, and sweet and polite, she had been -ruining her with too much praise, and letting -her grow up selfish and inconsiderate.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We will both begin again, my little girl,” -she said, holding Hilda close. “And to begin -with, do you know you ought to tell Cricket you -are sorry?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, mamma, I can’t—oh, I <i>can’t</i>! I -shouldn’t know anything what to say.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>“It is the only honourable thing to do, -darling. You have been much to blame. I -will tell Cricket for you, if you like. She is a -dear little girl, and I’m sure she will forgive -you and love you just the same.” Nevertheless, -Hilda could not quite make up her mind, that -night, to take this step.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The next Monday she started off, very soberly -and unhappily, for school. As she turned into -the lane, however, she saw a familiar little red -dress fluttering by the hedge, and in a moment -Cricket came in view. Both little girls stopped -and looked at each other shyly for a moment. -Cricket spoke first.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamma says I was very rude to you,” she -began, very soberly, but Hilda ran up to her, -impulsively, and threw both her arms around -her neck.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<i>I</i> was rude and horrid, Cricket, and I did -rub out your sums, and I’ve teased the children, -and I’ve torn up your jography questions often -and often; and I should think you’d hate me.” -Hilda said all this in a breath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket looked too astonished to speak.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, please, Cricket, forgive me, and love me -just the same, and we’ll always buy marsh-mallows, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>for I like them pretty well, and it -doesn’t make any difference if I don’t!” finished -Hilda, very much mixed up, but very much -in earnest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Cricket, while she did not quite understand -all Hilda meant, was, nevertheless, only -too glad to kiss and make friends, and so their -quarrel was made up.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER III.<br /> <span class='large'>DAMMING THE BROOK.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>One bright May morning three little maids -sat perched on the topmost rail of an old fence -down by the brook. It was very pleasant just -at that particular spot, where the tiny stream -babbled along gayly in its wide, deep bed. -There was only a ribbon of water there now, -though early in the spring the current ran full -and strong. The trees in the neighbouring -woods waved and nodded their heads in cordial -welcome to their constant little visitors.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was a favourite spot with these little -people, for they were well out of sight of the -rest of the world. The lane curved around the -hill which was behind them, wound over the -rustic bridge, and lost itself in the green woods -on the other side. Below them were the -meadows, where loads of “roosters”—as -country children call the sweet little white -violets—grew in abundance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There sat the three little maids, I say, swinging -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>their black-stockinged legs, and nodding -their three heads, black, brown and golden, -keeping time to the clatter of their busy -tongues.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was so much to talk about, you see, -for Hilda’s mamma had promised her that she -might have all her little friends come to supper -next week, to celebrate her eleventh birthday. -Of course they had to arrange about the invitations -and the amusements.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last Cricket’s active body tired of being -still so long, and she began to look around for -exercise, for she had been sitting there for quite -fifteen minutes. She edged along on her somewhat -unsteady seat, when suddenly the treacherous -rail turned completely over, and laid her on -her back in the soft meadow grass. Hilda and -Eunice shouted with laughter, for such an accident -was so like Cricket; but the little girl, not -in the least troubled, picked herself up. To be -sure, there was a jagged tear in her fresh, blue -gingham, and a great grass-stain on it, as well, -but these were every-day affairs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She jumped over the fence and sat down on -the end of the wooden bridge, which crossed the -road, with her feet hanging over the water, idly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>dropping pebbles down. Presently this inspired -her with a new idea.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, girls!” she exclaimed, “let’s dam up -the brook!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This proposal immediately met with the -greatest favor. Hilda and Eunice jumped -briskly down, and Cricket jumped briskly up. -The stone wall along the road supplied them -with material, and they fell energetically to work.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Back and forth they went like little beavers, -carrying stones instead of wood. They stood at -the end of the bridge, and dropped the stones -down, splash, just in the right place. It was -great fun, tugging at the stones from the wall, -finding the loose ones they could take, without -leaving too large a space; or pulling out the -wrong one, and bringing half a dozen more -rattling about their feet, so that they had to -jump, screaming, out of the way. Then they -must tug and strain to roll them up the bank to -the lane, and then on to the bridge, and over -into the stream.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Being, as I said, a lonely, out-of-the-way place, -it happened that no one passed to notice the -mischief the children were doing. So they -worked away undisturbed.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>They lifted stones that were twice the size of -their own heads, quite scorning the little ones, -excepting to fill in with. When they presently -paused to take breath and to survey their work, -the stones lay closely packed together from side -to side, and the water was deepening fast. -Panting and quite tired out, they threw themselves -on the grassy bank to rest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m glad,” sighed Cricket, “that I’m not a -dammer by trade.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If you were,” said Eunice, wisely, “you -would be a strong man, and then it would not -be hard work.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are you going to do, girls, when you’re -grown-up?” asked Hilda.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know,” answered Cricket, promptly; “I -thought of it last night. I’m going to write -hymns for the missionaries, and p’raps I’ll be -a missionary myself. Anyway, I’d like to go -to Africa and have all the bananas I could eat, -for once.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I won’t be a missionary,” returned Hilda, -with decision. “I don’t want to go to Africa. -Horrid old skeeters and things, and cannibals to -eat you up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’d convert them. That’s what missionaries -are for,” answered Cricket, serenely.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>“But you wouldn’t get a chance,” persisted -Hilda. “They’d catch you and kill you and -eat you up just as <i>quick</i>. You’d be in somebody’s -stomach before you could say Jack Robinson.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But <i>hymns</i>, Cricket,” said Eunice, who had -been meditating over the word, rather overcome -by the ambition of her younger sister. “Would -you write hymns like those in the hymnbook?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes. Of course they might not be quite so -good just at first, but I could practise. I made -up one last night. Do you want to hear it? -It’s rather long.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, indeed,” cried both the others, much -impressed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And Cricket cleared her throat, and began:——</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“A big, black cannibal lived by the sea,</div> - <div class='line'>And he was black as he could be,</div> - <div class='line'>And he ate up children, one, two, three.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“One day he found a little child,</div> - <div class='line'>A little white one, meek and mild,</div> - <div class='line'>And the little boy looked up and smiled.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘Oh, don’t you know it’s wrong,’ said he,</div> - <div class='line'>‘To eat a little child like me?</div> - <div class='line'>And God won’t love you then, you see.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>“‘And don’t you know if you’re not good,</div> - <div class='line'>And don’t do everything you should,</div> - <div class='line'>And eat up children in the wood,</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘You will not then to Heaven go,</div> - <div class='line'>But you will suffer down below,</div> - <div class='line'>And wonder why you did do so?’</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“The cannibal was softened through,</div> - <div class='line'>And said to him, ‘Forgive me, do,</div> - <div class='line'>And I will go to Heaven with you.’</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“If little children only knew</div> - <div class='line'>All the good that they could do,</div> - <div class='line'>They’d be missionaries, too.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, it’s lovely!” exclaimed both little girls, -as Cricket finished her very rapid recitation.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket! how could you make that all up?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Some parts of it <i>were</i> hard,” answered -Cricket, modestly. “I couldn’t get the rhymes -right at first, and I had to change it some. I -wanted to say——</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“The cannibal fell on his knees,</div> - <div class='line'>And said to him, ‘Forgive me, please,’</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>but I couldn’t think of another rhyme to match -it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, it’s beautiful,” said Eunice, drawing -a long breath of admiration.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>“Aren’t you rested now?” asked Cricket, -jumping up. “Let’s dump some more stones -over. Oh—oh! look at the brook!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>They had been resting for half an hour, -under a tree, with their backs to the brook. -Now, as they approached it, they were amazed -to see how much their work had deepened the -water. Instead of a narrow trickle that they -could easily jump over, it had widened to a deep -pool just above the stones.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh-h!” squealed the children, in delight. -Cricket plunged forward to plug up a tiny little -hole in their dam. Of course she stopped on an -insecure stone, and of course, in attempting to -get her balance, she stumbled forward, and -stepped into the water up to her knees.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There; I knew Cricket would do that,” said -Hilda, calmly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket scrambled out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My feet are wet,” she remarked, with much -surprise. Both the other girls shouted with -laughter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Did you think the water wasn’t wet?” -asked Hilda.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Going home for dry stockings and shoes -never occurred to Cricket. It would have been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>altogether too much trouble. She pulled off -her soaked shoes and stockings, and spread them -on a sunny stone to dry, and danced around in -her little bare feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the stones hurt her tender skin, and the -hot sand blistered it. So she sat down on the -bank, further up, and dabbled her feet in the clear, -running water. The others immediately desired -to follow suit, when Cricket “set the Psalm,” as -their old nurse used to say, and in a few minutes -six little bare feet were paddling about.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s very strange,” said Cricket, at last, after -a brief fit of silence, “that Eunice never falls in -the water, nor tears her clothes, nor anything. -I b’lieve my mother’d just think herself in luck -if she had two like you, ’stead of me. I’m the -most misfortunate girl always.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice was a careful little girl, and not nearly -so much of a romp as Cricket was. She seldom -did have the accidents that so constantly befel -her heedless little sister.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You do so many more things than I do,” -Eunice hastened to explain. “You do things -that I’m afraid to do.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m afraid this minute,” remarked Hilda.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Afraid! why, what of?” exclaimed both the -others, in chorus.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>“’Fraid we’ve got to go home. It’s twelve -o’clock, for there’s the whistle.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, is that all! I thought you must have -seen a snake, at least,” laughed Cricket, drawing -on her damp stockings and stiff shoes. -“Ugh! these stockings feel just like frogs.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We must come back to-morrow,” said Hilda, -as they trudged off, “and see how deep this -water is, and we will get some boards and make -a raft, and have piles of fun.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IV.<br /> <span class='large'>THE CONSEQUENCES.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>But both Monday and Tuesday were unfavourable -for nautical adventures, for they brought a -driving, pouring rain. Wednesday was too damp -for them to go to the meadows at all, and on -Thursday came the famous birthday party. So -it happened that their dam was forgotten till -Saturday, when they turned their steps brookward.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, <i>look</i> at the water!” they cried, in one -breath, as they came around the curve. They -could hardly believe their eyes, for a wide, deep -stream filled the bed from side to side. The -combination of the heavy rains with their dam -had worked wonders.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See the water roll over the dam, girls! it’s -just like the mill-dam,” exclaimed Cricket. -“Let’s roll more stones down and make a -bigger one still.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>So, with eager hands, they got great stones -again, lugging them from their places in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>stone wall with infinite toil. They balanced -them on the edge of the bridge, and counting, -“One,—two,—three,—go!” They each pushed -over one, jumping and screaming with delight, -at the tremendous splashes, as the water flew up, -spattering them well.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ow—ow! there goes my hat!” It was -Cricket’s wail of anguish, of course. Her next-to-her-best -white Leghorn, it was too, for her -every-day hat had come to grief through Dixie’s -chewing off her ribbons, and was laid up for -repairs. There lay the pretty broad-brim, -caught right on one of those big stones, with -the water lapping all around it. Vainly they -ran down to the side of the bridge and tried to -reach it. It was too near the middle. The -water was already so deep and black that they -hesitated to wade in for it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps we can get a stick and reach it,” -suggested Hilda. They accordingly broke long -sticks from the bushes near by, and then -Cricket lay flat down on the bridge, with her -head and arms hanging over, and tried to reach -the unfortunate hat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I can’t quite do it,” she panted. “You hold -on to my legs, Eunice, while I lean over a little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>further, and, Hilda, you catch it with your stick -at the side, when I poke it over there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>So Eunice clung to Cricket’s legs with all her -might, while Cricket, fully half over the bridge, -made desperate lunges; at last she was successful.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There it goes! now, catch it, Hilda!” triumphant -and breathless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Just at this critical moment there rose suddenly -a tremendous shout from the woods.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hi! hi! I’ve caught ye, ye young rogues! -I’ll teach ye a lesson, a-dammin’ up my brooks -and a-swampin’ my medders, and a-drownin’ -my caows! I’ll hev the law on ye!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Fright and terror! What awful words were -these? Cricket hung, paralyzed, over the -bridge, and Eunice clung to her black-stockinged -legs, with fingers that made black and -blue spots in the tender flesh. Hilda, poised on -two uncertain stones, stood like a small Colossus, -and all of them were white with terror, for -an awful, great, big, blue-bloused man was -getting over the fence, with, oh, horror, a gun -on his shoulder, and a slovenly bull-dog tagging -at his heels!</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve been a-watchin’ for ye, since a long -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>time back,” the man said, leisurely coming -nearer, seeing that the children were too frightened -to run away. “I’m not a-goin’ to eat yer, -but I want to know what in thunder you’re allers -up to mischief for. Yer’s the doctor’s gal,” he -went on, addressing Cricket, “and yer a limb.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket drew herself up on to the bridge. -They recognized the man now as a farmer in the -neighbourhood, a gruff old fellow, whom all the -children feared. They quaked still more with -fright.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now I’ll tell yer, young uns, I could hev the -law on ye all for this flew-doodle-um of yourn, -and I ain’t sure,—I—ain’t—<i>sure</i>, I ain’t -a-goin’ ter. Now, what hev ye got to say fer -yourselves why I shouldn’t?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We didn’t know we were doing any mischief,” -faltered Cricket, really conscience-smitten, -as well as frightened.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mischief!” growled the farmer, “when -ain’t ye young ’uns in mischief? I’m goin’ to -hev ye all in the lock-up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, please, please, Mr. Trante,” cried -Cricket, in mortal terror. “If we’ve done any -mischief, please ask my father to pay you for it, -but oh, <i>don’t</i> put us in the lock-up!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>“Wal, I dunno but I re’lly orter,” said Mr. -Trante, enjoying their terror.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See all the damage ye’ve done. Las’ Sunday -I was a-strollin’ round my medder, up -yander”—pointing up beyond where the white -violets grew—“an’ I see it was all soft an -sorter soggy, by the bank, and the brook was a -considderbal wider. I kinder wondered at that, -seein’ as we hadn’t hed no rain for quite a -spell then. Ev’ry night this week the caows -kep’ a-comin’ home all wet to their knees, an’ -las’ night the boy brung ’em in, and says he, -‘the medder’s all a-swimming, and the caows -has stayed up into the woods all day.’ It didn’t -seem nateral that the rain could ha’ did all thet, -so this mornin’ I sot out to explore, an’ I found -this big dam o’ yourn. I hed a big mornin’s -work, so I hed to leave it till this afternoon. -I re’lly orter make ye take ’em out yerselves.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t believe we could,” answered Cricket, -doubtfully. Then she brightened up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I’ll ask papa to send Thomas to-morrow -morning to help you. I’m so sorry about the -cows, Mr. Trante, and getting the meadow so -wet. We never thought. Will it ever dry up -again?” she asked, anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>“Wall, I guess the medder’ll dry up, if you -give it a chance,” the farmer answered, grimly. -“How did you young rogues roll up all them -big stones, tearin’ down my stone walls? Look -at them big holes!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Three shamefaced children looked more -downcast than ever at this new view of their -mischief.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll ask papa to pay you for all the trouble -we’ve made,” repeated Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wal, I dunno how I could put a money vally -on it, skursely,” growled the man, “but I’ll see -your pa. An’ about the lock-up. Ef you’ll -promise me not to go a-dammin’ up no more -streams, not even little dribblin’ things like that -’un there was, mebbe I’ll let ye off this time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, we promise!” cried the three, fervently, -while their hearts danced jigs of joy at their -escape.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“An’ tell yer pa to send Thomas over in the -morning at seven o’clock sharp, an’ I an’ he’ll -work at them stuns a spell. Looks like it would -be considerable of a chore to hist ’em out,” said -Mr. Trante, looking at the stones, through one -eye.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come, Bruiser,” he went on, “you an’ me’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>a-goin fur the caows now. Ye kin go home, -young ’uns, and don’t do no more damage than -ye kin help a-doin’, while ye’re going thar;” and -three very subdued-looking children immediately -took advantage of his permission to disappear -around the curve.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The next day Thomas told Dr. Ward that he -had had the hardest half-day’s work he had done -in one while.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Them crazy young ’uns will be the death o’ -me,” he grumbled. “Me an’ Dan’el Trante -worked up’ards of half a day to ease them stuns -up. An’ the next time they go to dammin’ up -creeks, I ’low they better do suthin’ else with the -time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And the children concluded they would.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER V.<br /> <span class='large'>FOURTH OF JULY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Of course, with such a troop of children as -there was at Kayuna, Fourth of July was a -wildly exciting time. They were always up at -unearthly hours in the morning, and used up, before -breakfast, an immense supply of giant torpedoes -and fire-crackers, by way of opening the -day. Later, they were allowed free range of the -back-kitchen, in order that they might carry out, -all by themselves, the grand performance of the -day. This was making and freezing a great can -of ice-cream, with no interference, even to the -extent of a suggestion, from the cook. This -was always eaten by the assembled family, on the -piazza, at five in the afternoon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the evening all the people in the neighbourhood -gathered on the piazza and lawn, to -see the display of a great quantity of fireworks, -which Dr. Ward always had sent out from town. -So they wound up the Glorious Fourth in a very -patriotic manner.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>It was really very good-natured of Dr. Ward -to allow the display on his grounds, for it always -took Thomas and one of the other men all the -next day to take away the débris, clear up the -lawn, and restore things to their usual trim -order.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This particular Fourth really began the night -before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda Mason had been invited to come and -spend the night with Cricket and Eunice, in order -to be on hand in the morning. It was barely -dark when the three children decided it was -quite time to go to bed, in order to shorten the -long hours that stretched before to-morrow morning. -Nurse had put up a cot in Cricket’s room -for Hilda, close beside the larger bed, so it was -quite like sleeping all together.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They were far too much excited to settle -down very soon, especially as it was earlier than -their usual bedtime, so they frolicked and built -tents of the sheets, and ended up with a game of -tag around the foot-board. But this speedily -brought Eliza to the scene, with a very peremptory -order “to go to sleep, and not disturb -everybody in the house with their jim-jams.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thus commanded, and being tired by this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>time, they were quite ready to subside, and very -soon, after numberless “good-nights” and -“don’t you wish it was to-morrows,” they settled -down.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket woke first. The room was already -beginning to grow light.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, girls, girls!” she cried, scrambling out -of bed. “We’ve overslept, I know. There’s -the sun rising now.” There certainly was light -behind the trees, as she looked from the east -windows.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Funny we don’t hear the boys,” said Eunice, -sitting up and trying to rub the sleep out of her -eyes. “I’m awful sleepy—seems as if we’d -just gone to bed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I should say it did. How quiet everything -seems. Hilda, wake up! it’s morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t care,” returned Hilda, sleepily, -turning over.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But it’s Fourth of July! Do get up! We -want to get ahead of the boys.” For two boy -cousins, Will and Archie Somers, were visiting -them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, dear!” yawned Hilda, who was always a -sleepy head. “I think I’d rather not have any -Fourth of July.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>“But the Fourth’s here, and we’ve got to -have it!” said Cricket, pulling the sheet from -under Hilda. “Get up, you lazy girl. I’m -all dressed.” For Cricket dressed as she did -everything else, “like a streak of greased lightning,” -as Donald said.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I’m getting up!” and Hilda turned out -reluctantly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m going to the boys’ door, while you’re -finishing,” said Cricket. “I’ll be back in a -minute.” She slipped out into the hall, as still -as a mouse. It was very dark out there, and -she had to feel her way along.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Suddenly, ahead of her, came a glimmer of -light, and a tall, white figure appeared, that -startled Cricket so that she turned, with a -scream, to run back. It was only Eliza, who, -aroused by the children’s voices, was coming -from the nursery to see what was the matter, -but Cricket was blinded by the sudden light, so -that she did not recognize her. She lost her -bearings, turned to the left instead of the right, -and the next moment she was plunging head-foremost -down the stairs, with a crash that in -two minutes assembled a white-clad household.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>“What is the matter?” asked everybody, -hurriedly, of everybody else.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Doctor Ward sprang down the staircase to -investigate. At the bottom lay a little heap.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket!” he exclaimed, with his heart in -his mouth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess I’m all right, papa,” came a scared -little voice from the heap, “but I don’t know, -’xactly, where I am.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her father lifted her up, and felt of her arms -and legs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No bones broken. Is your back all right? -and your head? In the name of common-sense, -child, what are you doing around the house, all -dressed, at midnight?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, it’s morning,” said Eunice and Hilda -together, who, with the others, had gathered at -the foot of the stairs, everybody asking questions -and talking at once.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s morning, and it’s the Fourth of July,” -explained Eunice, “and we got up, and Cricket -was going to wake the boys, and get a rise out -of them. Is Cricket hurt?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The doctor was still feeling Cricket’s back, -and her mamma was rubbing her hands anxiously, -but they all laughed at Eunice’s explanation.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>“Morning, dear child? It’s just ten minutes -of twelve,” she answered, looking at the tall hall -clock. “Just midnight.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Midnight!” cried all the three girls, incredulously. -“We saw the sun rising, anyway,” -said Hilda, bewildered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The moon, you mean,” said the doctor, -laughing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re sure you’re not hurt, darling?” he -added. “Well, since Cricket is not killed, it -proves to be a good joke.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She must be hurt somewhere,” persisted -mamma, still anxiously. “How could a child -go head-foremost down stairs and not be hurt?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nobody could but Cricket,” said her father, -kissing her; “but I am coming to the conclusion -that this young woman is not built of ordinary -human material, but on the principle of indestructible -dolls. She always comes right side -up with care.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought I was killed just at first,” said -Cricket, sitting up straight on her father’s knee, -and still looking bewildered, “for the house -seemed just to open and let me down, and the -first thing I knew, papa was calling ‘Cricket.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But now,” said mamma, “since nobody is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>seriously injured, you children may go back to -bed and sleep quietly—if you can—the rest of -the night. And remember that you must not -one of you get up in the morning till you are -called. That’s the only safe way. Eliza will -call you at five o’clock, and you must not stir -till then.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In view of the circumstances, the children -were quite willing to promise this, and soon -quiet reigned again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was broad daylight in good earnest when -the children opened their eyes next, in response -to Eliza’s call. Their night’s experience -seemed very far away in the light of day. The -boys were already up and out, and were firing -torpedoes at the girls’ windows. Cricket felt -a little stiff and lame at first, but that soon -wore off. She really did seem to be of some -material unlike other children, for her constant -accidents rarely disabled her, and she seldom -had even a bad scar. When she nearly cut her -finger off in the hay-cutter once, so that it hung -by a thread of skin, she clapped it on and ran to -her father, and it grew together like two pieces -of melted wax. Deep cuts healed as if made in -soft pitch. She had fallen from innumerable -trees, and would come crashing through the -branches, and land on the ground, stunned for a -moment, perhaps, but with no further injuries. -She was very slightly built, without an ounce of -superfluous flesh on her slender bones, and she -was very agile and flexible. She used to amuse -her sisters by sitting on the ground and twisting -both legs around her neck, like a clown in -the circus. When she fell, she fell as a baby -does, without making the slightest effort to save -herself, and probably this was the reason why -she escaped serious injury.</p> - -<div id='ill_056' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span> -<img src='images/ill_056.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>CELEBRATING THE FOURTH OF JULY.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>When the girls appeared, the boys were -ready with a fire of jokes concerning the midnight -adventures. Archie suggested that it -would be a good plan to pin a big label to the -moon, so they need not mistake it again for -the sun. Will chanted,—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in4'>“The Man in the Moon</div> - <div class='line in4'>Came up too soon,</div> - <div class='line'>And waked the girls too early.</div> - <div class='line in4'>Cricket ran into the hall</div> - <div class='line in4'>And got a great fall,</div> - <div class='line'>And made a great hurly-burly.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Fortunately, Cricket did not mind teasing, -else her life would have been a burden.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>By breakfast they had fired off dozens of -packages of giant torpedoes and an unlimited -number of fire-crackers, and went trooping into -the house, feeling, they said, as if they had been -up for at least six weeks.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VI.<br /> <span class='large'>MAKING ICE-CREAM.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>After breakfast there came a little lull in -the excitement. The edge had been taken off -of the enjoyment of torpedoes, by this time, and -the delights of fire-crackers palled.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To be sure, little Kenneth was still all agog. -In his small brain this day was hopelessly confused -with April-Fool’s-Day, which was the -latest special occasion in his narrow experience. -He ran around from one to another, crying excitedly, -“Look a-hind you!” and then shrieked -in great glee, “Apple-fool!” enjoying to the full -the unfailing surprise of each person, however -often he tried it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>By ten o’clock, however, came the great -excitement of the day, making ice-cream in -the back-kitchen. Will and Archie, and even -seventeen-year-old Donald, pounded the ice -which Thomas had already put there, in a big -tub, while Marjorie measured the cream and -milk and put in the sugar.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>It seemed to be part of the programme regularly -to forget the flavouring till the cream -was in the can and the dasher adjusted. Then, -at the last moment, it would suddenly be remembered, -and off must come the cover, to -the boys’ disgust, with imminent danger of a -deposit of salt within, while the flavouring was -added. Then they would find that they could -not put back the dasher in its place without -taking out the can. So out would come the can, -and the cream must be poured out, the dasher -slipped in place, all the ice and salt taken out of -the freezer, in order to put the can back, and -the whole thing repacked. All this served to -“vary the monotony,” Donald remarked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To-day, however, Marjorie, who was chief-cook, -had the flavouring in her mind from the -beginning, and she gave the cream a liberal -supply of lemon extract.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Will you stir this for a moment, please, -Eunice,” she said, as Eunice came into the -pantry just then, where Marjorie stood. “I want -to speak to cook.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice gave it a stir, as Marjorie went out, -and then bethought herself of the flavouring.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We won’t forget it this time,” she thought. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>“I know Marjorie has not remembered it. She -never does.” She surveyed the extract-bottles -for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I believe bitter-almond ice-cream would be -nice,” she thought. “I’ve never tasted any, -but it makes a nice flavour for frosting and -cake. I wonder how much it takes? I guess -half a bottle, certainly, for all this cream,” and -in went the bitter-almond, for Eunice had not -the vaguest idea of the necessary quantity.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Marjorie,” she called, “I’ve just put -in—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do come here, Eunice, I don’t think the -boys have chopped this ice fine enough, and -they say it will do,” interrupted Marjorie. -“Cricket, you go and stir the cream.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice ran out, thinking to herself,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I won’t tell her, after all, and she’ll think -she’s forgotten it, as usual.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket took her turn at the spoon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There,” she thought, “the girls never said -a word about the flavouring, and I just s’pose -they’ve gone and forgotten it, as usual. I’ll -put it in myself, and just as they think they’ve -got to take the can out, I’ll tell them. Let me -see. We always have lemon or vanilla. Essence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>of wintergreen. Wintergreen candy is -lovely. I’ll just put in some wintergreen,” and -she took the bottle hastily, after turning for a -spoon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh! oh! it’s peppermint I’ve got,” she -exclaimed, in dismay, as the first spoonful -went into the mixture. “Bah! I don’t like -peppermint, I’ll just put in an extra amount of -wintergreen to cover it up. Cook says she often -mixes flavours.” And in went plenty of wintergreen. -By this time the whole pantry had a -strong odour of essences, principally peppermint.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What a strong smell!” said Marjorie, -coming back. “What’s the peppermint bottle -doing down here with the cork out?” But -Cricket vanished, and Marjorie, concluding that -the cook had come in and used it, corked it up, -and put it back.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How horribly strong that peppermint is,” -she said, as she stirred her cream. “That bottle, -just open for a moment, has scented everything, -or perhaps some of it was spilled.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Archie appeared now to carry out the cream -to pour in the can.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whew! peppermint!” he whistled.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>“Yes; cook has been using some here, and -left the bottle uncorked. Awful, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Thing flavoured this time?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, Master Archie, it is. I flavoured it -myself, and it’s all right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good girl. I shall be glad to have some -properly flavoured cream of our manufacture for -once. Last year, seems to me, we didn’t get -any in.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The freezing of the cream went rapidly -forward now. The three girls made no remarks -about the flavouring, each thinking to -surprise the others by the fact the flavouring -had not been forgotten, after all.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Taking the can out, when the cream was -frozen, removing the dasher, and the accompanying -tastings, were all important features -of the operation. To-day, however, as the -critical moment drew near, mamma came out, -and said there were two wandering minstrels in -Highland dress and with Scottish bag-pipes, in -front of the house. Of course they all wanted -to go and see them, so they gave the cream -into cook’s charge and all rushed off. When -they returned half an hour later, they found, -much to their disappointment, that the ice-cream -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>was all frozen and packed in the moulds, to -stand till the afternoon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Making ice-cream had been such a long -process that, by the time everything was put -away, a point mamma always insisted on, it -was time to dress for dinner.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The afternoon was rather uninteresting. -Some one says that very early risers are apt -to be conceited all the morning and stupid -all the afternoon, and so the children found -it. Year after year they had the same experience, -but the twelve months between destroyed -the recollection of everything but the -excitement of early morning.</p> - -<p class='c010'>By half-past four, however, they began to -brighten up again, for ice-cream time approached.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was the children’s day, and the rule -was for them to wait on themselves, so for -some time they were busy bringing out plates -and spoons and doylies, and arranging cakes -and crackers on the table on the piazza, where -the feast was always served. Cook took the -ice-cream out of the moulds for them, and -put it on the ice-cream platter, and when the -grown-up people were all assembled and the -party was ready, Maggie, smiling broadly, appeared -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>with it. The children all sat around -with eyes expectant and mouths watering, for -this was their especial and particular feast, and -entirely unlike the ice-cream that was served -every Sunday for dessert.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The cream had certainly been beautifully -frozen, and looked very tempting on this hot -afternoon. Marjorie officiated at the platter, and -distributed the dainty with a liberal hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma tasted her dish, and set it down -suddenly. Auntie, after one trial, laid down -her spoon, and coughed behind her hand as -she caught mamma’s eye. Two or three other -guests present toyed with their spoons.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This is for you, papa,” Marjorie said then, -“and it’s a particularly big dish, because you -are so fond of it. There! isn’t that nice?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What under the canopy!” hastily exclaimed -the doctor, eyeing his dish in great surprise, -after his first mouthful.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What is it? isn’t it good?” inquired -Cricket, anxiously, with a sudden pang, as she -remembered the peppermint.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Good? it’s—it’s delicious. Only, why -didn’t you flavour it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Flavour it?” cried Marjorie and Eunice -<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>and Cricket, in a breath, “I did!” Then each -looked at the other.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I put plenty of lemon in,” said Marjorie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought bitter-almond might be good,” -began Eunice, looking bewildered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought Marjorie had forgotten,” broke in -Cricket, rapidly, “so I thought I’d s’prise her, -and I meant to put in some wintergreen, ’cause -wintergreen candy is very good, ’n’ I got in the -peppermint, by mistake, so I put in plenty of -wintergreen afterwards, to cover it up.” She -confessed this all in a breath, looking very -unhappy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a shout.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s no doubt, then, it is thoroughly -flavoured; it must have been my taste,” said -the doctor, dryly. “I’m almost sorry I have -been told, for there is such a charm about the -unknown. Do you remember what cook said -about her pumpkin pie, when your mother -asked her receipt? ‘Shure, there’s milk, an’ -there’s eggs an’ there’s some punkin, but -after all, it’s principally ingrejiencies.’ Your -ice-cream is really delicious, but if I were asked -my candid opinion I should say it was principally -ingrejiences.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>“May Zaidee and I have it all, then, -mamma,” asked Helen, eagerly, “if no one else -wants it?” The twins had been eating up -mamma’s and auntie’s cream with great relish. -“We think it’s good.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let them have all they want,” the doctor -answered, laughing. “I’m sure the amount -of peppermint and wintergreen will counteract -any possible ill effect of so much cold.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The older children were much disappointed, -but bore it very well. The combination of -lemon extract and bitter-almond might have -been endured, but Cricket’s generous addition -was altogether too much.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Archie and Will put their heads together for -a few minutes, and then Archie mounted a -hassock and asked for attention.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, mamma,” interrupted Eunice, “I -know he is going to say something horrid. -Make him stop.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It isn’t horrid, ma’am, it’s poetic genius, -that’s all.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Who flavoured up our nice ice-cream,</div> - <div class='line'>With lemon-essence by the ream?</div> - <div class='line in8'>Marjorie.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>“There! I knew he would,” said Eunice, -resignedly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Will took up the strain:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“And who next bitter almonds sought,</div> - <div class='line'>And poured in extract by the quart?</div> - <div class='line in8'>Eunice.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>“Be still, you wretch!” cried Eunice, attacking -him in the rear with a cushion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come on, if you want to fight,” said Will. -“It’s Archie’s turn, now.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Who added essence without stint,</div> - <div class='line'>The wintergreen and peppermint?</div> - <div class='line in8'>Our Cricket, oh!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>And both boys gave vent to a prolonged howl -of anguish.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, do go on!” cried Cricket, clapping her -hands. “It’s splendid.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Both boys continued in concert:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Who feasted on this luscious mess,</div> - <div class='line'>And groans each struggled to suppress?</div> - <div class='line in8'>All of us!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>Fortunately just here the supper-bell rang, and -they all trooped in.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VII.<br /> <span class='large'>MOPSIE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>It was on the very next day that Mopsie saved -Eunice’s life. Why, I haven’t said a word yet -about Mopsie, have I? and the dear little fellow -ought to have a whole chapter all to himself.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The pets at Kayuna were quite as important, -in the children’s eyes, at least, as they were -themselves, and equalled them in number. -There was Donald’s great St. Bernard, stately -and dignified, Kaiser William by name. He -was a splendid fellow, but would follow no one -but his master. The pigeons, lovely, soft, fluttering -things, belonged to Marjorie, who fed -them faithfully. They would come at her call -in troops and light on her shoulders, and peck -at bits of bread which she held between her -teeth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice’s pet was a beauty, for it was a snow-white -pony, which her godmother had given her -the summer before. It carried her in the saddle -beautifully, or was harnessed to the little light -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>cart which held two. Fine times the children -had with Charcoal, named so, on Donald’s advice, -because it wasn’t black.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The twins owned between them the cunningest -and brightest little Scotch terrier, named -Duster, from his feathery tail, which, of course, -he always carried straight up in the air. Another -dog, named Dixie, of no particular breed, -but of very social nature, belonged to the family -in general, though Cricket laid claim to him, -until she had Mopsie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And who was Mopsie? It is rather a humiliating -fact, but I may as well confess it at once—Mopsie -was, or had been, nothing but a poor -little circus pony.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket, at first, was rather ashamed of Mopsie’s -past history, considering that Eunice had -her beautiful Charcoal, who had been born and -brought up in a gentleman’s stable. The boys -teased her about her “aristocratic pony,” till -she would say, rather indignantly, “I don’t care. -It doesn’t matter a bit what a person does, if he -does it just the best he can, mamma says so. -And it’s just the same with a pony. I <i>know</i> my -Mopsie was the nicest horse in the circus, for -the men said so. There!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>But after this particular day no one ever -teased her again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>If Mopsie could have spoken, he could have -told them many stories of his circus life. He -was, certainly, a very bright, sweet-tempered -little creature, and knew no end of tricks, more -indeed, than the children ever suspected, for -there was no one to tell him to do them, or who -knew what he could do. He could sit up like a -dog, and hop around on his hind legs, keeping -time to music,—this had been called dancing -on the programme,—and jump through hoops, -and many other things.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For a long time the children wondered why, -as soon as the cart, to which he was harnessed, -stopped, he would try to turn himself around -beside the wheels. But this was a trick he had -been taught. The clown in the circus would -drive him round and round the ring, and as soon -as he stopped, it was pony’s business to turn -himself directly around, for the front wheels -were low enough to slip under the cart. Then -the clown would pretend he couldn’t find him, -because the pony was no longer in front, and he -would pretend to look down in the sawdust for -him, and in his pocket, saying, “Now, where <i>is</i> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>Alexander the Great gone?” for that was pony’s -name before he was Mopsie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Another thing he had been trained to do was -to pick up and carry really heavy things in his -teeth, and run away with them, while the clown -ran after him, shouting “Stop!” but the little -fellow knew he must not stop till he heard his -name as well.</p> - -<p class='c010'>All these, and many more tricks Mopsie had -been in the habit of doing before great crowds -every afternoon and evening.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last came one afternoon that Mopsie little -thought was to be his last in the circus. The -circus had come to Wellsboro’, and Mike, Doctor -Ward’s groom, had gone to see it. He was so -fond of horses that he was always hanging -around the tents where they were kept, and making -friends with the hostlers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Suddenly a great commotion arose. One of -the big horses, which was always ugly, got perfectly -wild, from the bites of horse-flies, it was -afterward thought, and began kicking furiously -right and left, plunging and rearing till the -frightened men could not hold him. Poor little -Alexander the Great was being groomed and -harnessed for the ring; as the maddened horse -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>broke loose, pony and groom were kicked by -those great, heavy hoofs, till the life was almost -crushed out of both of them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the confusion, after the horse was secured, -nobody noticed poor little Alexander, who lay -moaning and quivering in agony. The man beside -him was lifted and taken away, and then -somebody bent over the pony.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He’s done for, poor little fellow,” the man -said, pityingly. “I’ll put him out of his misery,” -and he drew a pistol.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then Mike came forward. “Don’t shoot him -yit. Lemme look at the loikes of ’im.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mike was a born horse-doctor, and to his -practised eye the pony was not so seriously hurt -but that there was hope of saving him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Will you let me have him?” he asked, after -feeling the pony all over very carefully. “He’ll -take a sight o’ doctorin’, ’n’ he won’t be no good -in a cirkis agin.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Take him, and welcome,” the manager said, -hastily. “We’ve no time for sick horses,” and -he swore again at the horse who had done all -the mischief.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So Mike got an old door, and one of the men -helped him lift poor little suffering Alexander -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>on it. Then he hired a cart somewhere, and -so the pony came to Kayuna.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This had been about the first of May. The -children were not allowed to see the new arrival -for a week or two, for he was not a very pleasant -object. His legs were bound up, and his poor -sides were all covered with “splarsters,” as -Zaidee announced once, in great excitement, -when she had taken a stolen peep.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last the little visitor was in a condition to -be seen, for, thanks to Mike’s good care, he -mended fast. The “splarsters” were taken off, -though his legs were still in splints, and Mike -groomed his shaggy, uneven coat as best he could.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice saw him first, and were -perfectly delighted with him. He was even -smaller than their dear Charcoal. After that -they were his constant visitors, feeding him -with apples and sugar, and petting him till poor -little Alexander must have wondered if he had -died and gone to the horse-heaven.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then came the exciting day when the last -splinter and bandage were removed, and pony, a -little weak and uncertain as to his hoofs, but -very frisky as to his head, was brought out into -the yard.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>Mike, meantime, had had a private interview -with papa, and following that, one with Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The result was, that a very happy little girl -raced down to the barn, with Eunice and Dixie -close behind.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, you dear, darling old Mopsie,” Cricket -cried out, flinging her arms about his rough little -head. “You’re my ownty-donty pony. Eunice -has Charcoal, and now I have you,” and she -hugged him again and again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When she released him, what did that cunning pony -do but offer her his front hoof to -shake!</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, you dear, dear, thing!” she shrieked. -“Mike! Mike! see that! he wants to shake -hands,” for the pony sociably offered his other -hoof.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yis, miss,” said proud Mike, grinning from -ear to ear. “He’s been a cirkis-pony, and -knows a deal o’ tricks, I dessay.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice dived into the stables, and in a moment -reappeared, leading her little snowy Charcoal. -The two ponies were a decided contrast—the -one so clean, and well-groomed and white, and -the other, rough and black, with shaggy, uneven -coat.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>“Yours is awfully cute,” said Eunice, with -an arm over her pony’s neck, “but he can’t -compare with my Charcoal. He’s nothing but -a circus-pony, after all.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>That was not like Eunice, and she did not -mean to hurt Cricket’s feelings. It was only -that her own pony looked so fresh and dear to -her. But Cricket fired up at once.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re my own Mopsie,” she cried, hugging -her black pony again, “and no other pony -could be half so cunning and smart. Charcoal -isn’t a bit smart, Eunice, you know he isn’t.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>A quarrel seemed close at hand, right over -those dear ponies, which stood rubbing noses in -the friendliest way. But Eunice was too generous -to hurt Cricket’s feelings knowingly, and she -said, quickly,</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mopsie does look awfully bright, Cricket, -and I think that’s a good name for him. I -wonder what his name really was?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But Mike did not know, so Mopsie was -christened thus on the spot, and Mopsie he -remained to the end of the chapter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“When can I ride him, do you think, Mike?” -asked Cricket, eagerly, as she fed him sugar.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Shure, Miss Scricket, an’ I’m thinkin’ it’ll -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>be next week ye’ll be afther ridin’ him, if he -kapes on a’mendin’.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>After this, Cricket hated any mention of the -fact that Mopsie was, or had been, a circus-pony, -though she stoutly insisted that it “didn’t make -a bit of difference, so long as he circused as -well as he could.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mike took the best of care of him, and a -month made a wonderful difference with the -little fellow. Constant and careful grooming -made his rough hair smoother, and with the -vaseline and other things that Mike knew of, -his uneven coat began to lose the marks of scars -and “splarsters.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII.<br /> <span class='large'>WHAT MOPSIE DID.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>It was a proud day for Cricket when the -saddle was first put on the back of her very -own pony, and Mike mounted her. Not that -she needed to be mounted, as a rule, for she was -quite equal to grasping the shaggy mane, and -scrambling up into the saddle herself, but this -was such an important occasion that ordinary -methods would not do.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mike was quite as proud as Cricket was, of -the black pony. To think that but for his kindness -and devoted care poor little Mopsie’s -bones would now be whitening in some field! -And not only that, but to think his favourite -Miss “Scricket” now had a pony of her -own, all owing to him. He had polished up -Mopsie to the last degree, and now that the -pony had its pretty little saddle on, just like -Charcoal’s, the two did not make a bad pair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>All the younger fry gathered to watch this -first mounting. Dr. Ward was there, also, for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>he did not know whether Mopsie had ever carried -a little girl before, and he wanted to make sure -that everything was right. The children cantered -up and down the avenue to the gates and -back, and even Charcoal seemed to think that -two ponies were much more fun than one. -Mopsie was a bit stiff at first, but he soon grew -more limber, and at last papa said that they -might ride down the road, outside the gates.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hurrah! get up, Mopsie!” cried Cricket, -bringing the whip lightly down on Mopsie’s -black flank, and tightening the rein a little. -To her great surprise Mopsie began to rise on -his hind legs, till his front feet waved in the air, -and then he gravely stalked away on the two -legs, with Cricket wildly clutching his mane.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Get down, Mopsie,” she shrieked. “Why, -I’m falling off. Get down this minute.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Papa and Mike both ran to the rescue, but -knowing little Mopsie seemed to feel that, after -all, this was not what was expected of him, so -he slowly lowered his front feet, and stood -quietly waiting for further orders.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mike was full of apologies for his pet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s the way ye drew the line, Miss -Scricket,” he said, anxiously. “It’s only wan -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>of thim cirkis-tricks. See! he don’t mane no -harm, at all, at all.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, it’s lots of fun,” cried Cricket, excitedly, -when she discovered that Mopsie evidently -thought he was only doing his duty. “I -wish I could make him do it again.” But just -what pull of the rein was necessary to tell him -to rear she could not find out, though she jerked -the patient pony’s head this way and that.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I’m afraid to have you go out of the -yard, my little girl,” said papa, “for Mopsie -might rear like that any time and throw -you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, no, papa, really,” pleaded Cricket, “for -he goes up so slowly, that now that I know -what’s coming, I’m not a bit afraid, and he -comes right straight down.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>However, papa would not consent to Cricket’s -making a circus-rider of herself till she understood -Mopsie a little better, so there were two or -three weeks of riding within the grounds. At -last there came a day when papa said that he -thought Mopsie was now enough accustomed to -a little girl’s riding him to go straight along the -road.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was the day after Fourth of July when the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>children took their first ride out into the country. -Dr. Ward, mounted on his big gray horse, -went with them for some distance, and then -gave them permission to ride along the lake-road -and so home, while he rode further on, on -some business.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was lovely riding along by the lake-road, -where it was all cool and shady, on that hot -morning. The edge of the road sloped rather -steeply to the lake, but most of the way there -was an old fence along there. In some places it -was broken down. Now and then a fire-cracker -in the distance made both ponies jump a little. -Charcoal, especially, was very nervous about -fire-crackers, for once some one had fired off a -whole package right under his nose, and he had -been dreadfully frightened.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Presently the little girls came to a place where -some lovely, rare flowers were growing by the -lake side, and Cricket jumped off her pony to get -them. It was one of the places where the fence -was broken down, so she slipped down the bank -to pick the flowers, leaving Mopsie cropping a tuft -of grass above.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As she did so, three small boys, who were in -hiding in the bushes, suddenly jumped up and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>fired off a whole pack of crackers, flash! bang! -right under Charcoal’s sensitive nose.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a scream from Eunice, Charcoal -jumped sideways, and in a moment Charcoal, -Mopsie and Eunice rolled down the steep bank, -and were struggling in the water, while Cricket -stood horrified on the bank. The water was -very deep there, even close to the shore, and the -force of the fall carried all three some distance -out. Cricket and the very frightened small -boys set up shriek after shriek, but the road -was very lonely, and no houses were near. No -one was in sight to render aid.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Charcoal was nearest the shore, and swam to -the bank; he scrambled up like a dog, and stood -shivering on the brink, much too frightened to -do anything but stand still.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Here, in this strait, Mopsie’s circus-training -came to the front. As he and Eunice both -rose to the surface, she struggling and screaming, -the knowing little pony caught her dress -in his teeth, and began to swim slowly towards -the shore with his burden. Fortunate, now, -that he had learned to carry heavy things -in his teeth like a dog. It was only a short -distance he had to swim, and in a few minutes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>he was near enough for Cricket, steadying -herself by an overhanging branch, to reach -forward and help draw Eunice in. Mopsie -scrambled up as Charcoal had done, and stood -quietly shaking himself, like a big Newfoundland -dog.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For a few minutes the children could do -nothing but hug each other and cry. Then -Cricket exclaimed, “Oh, you dear, darling old -Mopsie! you saved my Eunice’s life,” and -hugged her brave little pony tightly around -its wet neck. Then Eunice put her dripping -arms around it, too.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You dearest Mopsie,” she half-sobbed, “I’m -so glad you were a circus-pony, for just a plain -horse mightn’t have been able to hold my -dress so, and I’m going to love you just as -much as I do Charcoal.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Two very funny-looking children rode into -the yard a little later. Great was the excitement -when the story was told, and Mopsie had -enough petting and praise and sugar to turn -an ordinary horse’s head. Doctor Ward said -that, without doubt, Eunice would have drowned -but for Mopsie’s training to catch and hold -things in his teeth, and besides that, he said -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>that the little fellow’s circus life had probably -done for him what education does for people -generally—made him readier and quicker.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After that Cricket had the best of it when -anybody teased her about riding a circus-pony, -for she would exclaim, “I don’t care if he was. -He saved Eunice’s life, for papa said so. And -a plain horse wouldn’t have known how.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And Eunice would add: “We love him all -the better for it, because he had to learn how -to be an every-day pony, and he’s learned it so -well.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER IX.<br /> <span class='large'>THE KITTENS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“Now, what do you s’pose those children -are up to?” asked Cricket, with much interest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Those children,” referred to in that particular -tone, always meant the twins, Zaidee -and Helen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice sat in an apple-tree, on -a low, gnarled limb, munching harvest apples. -It was after dinner, and they had not yet -decided what to do with their afternoon. It -was too hot to ride, and besides, they had been -out on their ponies all the morning.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Trooping along the lane beneath them went -the nursery party, Zaidee and Helen, with their -nurse, Eliza, who held little Kenneth by the -hand. With them was their little playmate, -Sylvie Craig, with her nurse, who was wheeling -Baby Craig in his carriage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Zaidee and Sylvie swung between them a -good-sized covered basket, which did not seem -to be heavy, although they carried it with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>great care. All were chattering and laughing -in high glee.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Did you ever do it?” the girls heard Sylvie -ask. “It’s the dratest fun. Zey all swim -round, and you pote ’em wiv a stit.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Does they squeal?” queried Zaidee, earnestly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No-o, I don’t zink so,” returned Sylvie, -doubtfully.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I sawed Thomas cut off a chicken’s head -once,” piped up Helen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve seen lots of chiten’s heads tut off,” -said Sylvie, in a superior way.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are they going to do?” wondered the -girls in the apple-tree, as the group passed down -the lane.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They’re going to the brook,” said Cricket, -peering after them. “Let’s go and see.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t let them see us,” cautioned Eunice. -“I b’lieve they’re up to some mischief. Keep -behind the hedge.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice and Cricket followed the group at a -little distance.</p> - -<div id='ill_088' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span> -<img src='images/ill_088.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>EUNICE AND CRICKET WATCHING THE OTHER CHILDREN.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>The children stopped by the brook and the -older girls watched their proceedings with much -interest from behind the hedge. The two -nurses, both young girls, sat down on the -grassy slope and began to talk, without noticing -the little ones much. The brook was -wide just there, and quite deep with recent -rains. Overhanging willows lined its banks, -and made it cool and shady.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children opened their basket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What <i>have</i> they got there?” whispered -Eunice, craning her neck, as Sylvie suddenly -said,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t open it yet. We must det some stits.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Sticks abounded, and each child armed herself -with a stout one. Then Sylvie lifted the -cover, and took out four little squirming, week-old -kittens, with their eyes still shut.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now,” directed Sylvie, eagerly, “you frow -one in <i>so</i>. Oh, see it bob! frow in anovver one, -Zaidee, and pote ’em down when zey turn up,”—and -suiting the action to the word, she poked -down the helpless little bobbing head of the -unfortunate kitten.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m afraid it hurts them,” said tender-hearted -Helen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, no, it doesn’t,” insisted Sylvie. “’Tause -I heard mamma tell Dennis to drown zem her -own self. Doesn’t hurt, really.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>And Helen, thus reassured, threw in the -wretched little black kitten she held, and stood -ready with her stick.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let me frow one in,” cried three-year-old -Kenneth, much excited, picking up one helpless -little straggler, and pitching it eagerly into the -water. “Pote it down, Zaidee!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice and Cricket were so much amazed at -this blood-thirsty sight, that at first they simply -stared. But when little Kenneth pushed down -the heads of the helpless victims, Eunice recovered -herself and rushed to the rescue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, you naughty, naughty children,” she -said, in her severest tones, “to drown the poor -little kittens! How would you like me to poke -you down under the water like that, Kenneth?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sylvie says it doesn’t hurt ’em,” said Kenneth, -opening his big blue eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Of course it hurts to be thumped on the -head,” said Eunice. “Eliza, you ought not let -them do so.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, law! them kittens don’t mind,” said -the nurse, carelessly. “They’ll never know -what killed ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamma told Dennis to drown zem, her own -self, she did,” objected Sylvie, clinging to her -stick.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>“Dennis doesn’t drown them that way, -goosie,” explained Eunice. “He ties them up -in a bag, and puts a stone in it, and they all -drown so fast that they never know it. It’s -cruel to hit them that way, you naughty little -things, and you must promise never to do it -again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children, subdued by Eunice’s sharp -words and older-sister authority, duly promised, -very gravely, though Sylvie could not resist a -last sly rap. The little, helpless, bobbing things -by this time floated quietly on the surface, and -one by one the little bodies drifted beyond reach -of the children’s sticks.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then Kenneth, who was only a baby, began -to whimper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I didn’t mean to hurt ze tittens,” he sobbed. -“Would it have hurted ’em wivvout we poted -’em, Tritet?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess not,” said Cricket, comforting her -pet. “P’rhaps it didn’t hurt them so very -much this time, only remember, you must never -do it again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, me won’t ever pote ’em aden,” promised -Kenneth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then, this part of the afternoon’s programme -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>being over, the children ran away further along -the stream to play, while Cricket and Eunice sat -down on the bank, skipping stones. Baby Craig -slept peacefully in his carriage, and the nurses -gossiped and crocheted together.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Presently the girls went a little distance -down the bank, and crossed on the stepping-stones. -Lovely cardinal flowers grew in -abundance further up, and they picked big -bunches of them. Faintly, from some distance -up the stream, came the children’s voices, but -they were out of sight of the older ones, on -account of the overhanging bushes that bordered -the stream above them, on both sides. An hour -of the sultry afternoon slipped by. The girls -still sat idly by the brookside, for it was far too -hot for the least exertion. At last, Eliza, who -was not usually so careless, suddenly bethought -herself of her neglected charges.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Miss Eunice,” she called across the stream, -coming up opposite to where the girls sat, “have -you seen the children?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They went up the brook, I think, ’Liza, and -I have not thought of them since. I hope -nothing has happened to them,” said Eunice, -anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>“Oh, I guess not,” returned Eliza, but she set -off rapidly up the stream. Some distance -beyond there was a tiny cottage, where there -lived a poor widow, a young Scotchwoman, -with several little children. Eliza had sometimes -taken the twins there, and it occurred to -her that they might have wandered there now -by themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But in another minute the little ones came in -sight, running in great excitement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Elspeth falled in the water,” shrieked -Helen, while still far off. Elspeth was the -Scotchwoman’s two-year-old baby. “We sawed -her fall in.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice were across the stepping-stones -in a moment, and flew to meet the -children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you mean?” they cried, while -Mary Ann left Baby Craig in his carriage to -join them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She falled in,” repeated Zaidee, breathlessly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we didn’t pote her wiv a stit,” struck -in Sylvie, virtuously.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But who pulled her out?” asked Eliza.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nobody pulled her out, ’Liza. She’s all in -the water.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>“<i>Now!</i> In the water now? Is she drowned?” -cried the others, horrified.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I dess her’s drownded dead,” said Sylvie, -cheerfully. “But me didn’t pote her, truly. -Her dust fell in.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I <i>sawed</i> her fall in,” put in Kenneth. “It -was all deep.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And she kicked in the water,” added Helen, -“and by ’n’ by she sailed up to the top, just like -the kitties.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER X.<br /> <span class='large'>ELSPETH.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Eunice and Cricket exchanged frightened -glances.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where is she now?” repeated Mary Ann, -also looking scared.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In ze water, ’tourse,” returned little Sylvie, -impatiently. “Her sailed down ze water all zis -way, an’ zen ze bushes taught her, an’ her -touldn’t sail any more.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Listen! what’s that?” cried Eunice, with -white lips.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A distant cry was becoming nearer and louder.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My bairn! my bairn!” rang a wailing voice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Around the curve of the brook ran a wild-eyed -woman, wringing her hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Across the fields, attracted by her cries, two -men came hurrying.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She drowned! my bairn is drowned!” the -hapless mother cried, pushing back her falling -hair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I sawed her fall in!” cried Zaidee.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>The questioning men and the half-crazed -mother stopped at the child’s words, and -gathered around the little ones. They grew -frightened and incoherent at the storm of questions -that assailed them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Evidently a tragedy had taken place under the -children’s very eyes. They had seen little Elspeth, -when they were way up the bank, they -said, chasing yellow butterflies. She had run -towards the brook, through the tall grass, and -she must have plunged straight into the water. -This was the main stream of the Kayuna, and -the current ran swift and deep there.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children saw her, and ran to the spot, -but they never thought of giving the alarm, for -they had no idea what drowning really is. As -they said, “the baby kicked in the water, and -then it sailed up to the top.” Their chief idea -was that they must not poke it with a stick.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They had watched the little creature “sailing” -down the brook, and had run along the bank beside -it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Zere it is,” Sylvie suddenly broke off, pointing -to the curve above.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s under the bushes,” Zaidee said, beginning -to cry with nervousness and fright. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>excited group around, all talking and asking -questions at once, the frantic mother catching -first at one child and then at another, Mary -Ann crying and groaning in true Irish fashion, -completely bewildered the little ones, who had -not the faintest idea of the importance of what -they had seen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As Zaidee pointed, one of the men sprang into -the water, knee deep.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I see it!” he cried, and pressed forward -through the water.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The poor mother was plunging after him when -the other man forcibly held her back.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let me go to my bairn,” she cried, struggling.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’ll bring your bairn,” he said, motioning -to the two nurses to hold her back, while he tore -up the bank.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The brushes grew thick there, and the baby -had been caught underneath in such a way that -it could not be seen from the steep bank. Excepting -that the children had known where it -had stopped, it would have been much longer -before it was found.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The man on the bank plunged down through -the bushes and both men were lost to view.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>Five minutes of breathless waiting passed, -while even the poor mother only moaned -brokenly, and then they reappeared, one of -them bearing the little drowned baby.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Run for your pa, children,” cried Eliza, but -Cricket’s swift feet were already flying along to -the house.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The group stood in awed silence as the bearer -tenderly deposited the dripping little burden on -the grass. It looked as if it were asleep. The -golden curls clung to its white forehead, and the -little face was still rosy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The poor mother cast herself down beside it -in a perfect abandonment of grief, kissing its -lips, and clasping the lifeless little form to her -breast, as she cried, ceaselessly,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, my bairn! my bairn!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Running at full speed down the lane came -Dr. Ward, with blankets, and close behind him -followed his wife, with a whiskey-flask. In a -moment he was among them, and had caught -the child from the mother. He tore off its -clothes and put his ear to its heart.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There is hope, I think,” he said, quickly, -and with that, although the baby had been -so long under water, there began a desperate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>fight for the little life. The doctor worked -with an intensity that would not yield to -despair, rubbing and working the little round, -white limbs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The minutes wore on, and the helpless onlookers -could only stand by in breathless -silence. The doctor gave brief, quick orders -which willing hands executed. He carried the -baby into the direct glare of the scorching -August sun, which beat down with fierce -intensity on his unprotected head. But no -one heeded the sickening heat. The poor -mother sat by, passively now, like a stone, -her hands clasped round her knees, in dull -despair. Her long hair, yellow as the baby’s -own, rolled in a rough mass down her back, -torn and tangled by the bushes, and her wild -eyes watched the doctor’s every movement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The work of rubbing the tiny, white body, -and working the little arms up and down, went -steadily on, one relieving another, but thus far -with no avail.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Half an hour passed. The doctor worked on -with set lips.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Better give it up, sir,” one of the men -ventured at last, stopping to wipe his streaming -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>forehead. The doctor’s face was dark purple, -and every vein was swelling. At the suggestion -of stopping their efforts, the mother uttered -a low moan, and stretched out her hands imploringly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Work on,” the doctor made answer, briefly. -“Work its arms steadily, Johnson. Rub -evenly, Emily,” he said, bending again to -breathe into the baby’s parted lips. He raised -his head suddenly, then bent his ear again to -its heart.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Thank God!” he breathed. A thrill of -life ran through the baby’s frame. There was -a faint quiver of its eyelashes, a gasp for breath,—another—and -the baby stirred. Elspeth -was saved.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a moment of intense silence, and -then the mother threw herself forward and -clasped her baby to her bosom with a hungry -cry of joy that no one present ever forgot.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Papa’s feelings when he learned that his own -little ones had seen the accident may be imagined, -and then and there he gave the children -a few instructions that even the youngest ones -never forgot.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The mother had missed her baby, but she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>thought nothing of it at first, for the little -thing often strayed some distance from the -house. At last, growing anxious, she went -out again and looked around. Down the bank -she saw a little child in a pink dress, which -she thought was her little one. It was really a -glimpse of Helen in her little pink frock. The -mother went back, thinking the child was safe.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After a time she went out to call it home, -when, to her horror, she saw her baby’s sunbonnet -caught on a low, overhanging branch, -with nothing else to be seen; and then knowing -the baby must have fallen in, she had rushed, -screaming for help, down the bank in search -of it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Little Elspeth, wrapped in blankets, was -carried to the doctor’s house to be cared for -further, and the next day she was playing -about, as round and rosy as ever.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XI.<br /> <span class='large'>IN THE GARRET.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The garret of the old stone house was a mine -of wealth to the children. It was a huge place, -extending over the whole house. It had many -unexpected angles and sudden little descents of -two or three steps in different places, over the -rambling additions.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Four generations of Wards had lived at -Kayuna, and so there was a most delightful -accumulation in the garret. Of course there -were lines of old trunks, piled with ancient -dresses and quaint bonnets dating from the -beginning of the century. There were stacks -of old furniture in various stages of going to -pieces. There were piles of musty books, in -strange-smelling leather bindings. There were -big bundles of closely-tied up feather-beds, like -huge, soft cannon-balls. These made magnificent -barricades when the children played that -they were bombarding forts.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was as hot as mustard up there in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>summer-time, of course, but the children never -minded the heat. Then there were the long, -rainy days that came occasionally, when it was -a simple delight to scamper up there directly -after breakfast, to hear the rain pelting cheerfully -on the roof, and the wind whistling -through the window-casings, “like a boy with -his hands in his pockets,” Cricket said.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The whole troop had been there one day. -It had rained early in the morning, and though -it cleared up before eleven, the children played -on until they had quite exhausted their resources.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They had sailed across the ocean in search -of America, in a huge old sofa turned upside -down. They had been shipwrecked, owing to a -sudden parting of the back and sides of their -bark, and then they were chased by cannibals, -represented by Hilda and Edith Craig and an -imaginary host.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Little Kenneth, the usual victim on these -occasions, had been caught and prepared for a -feast, till rescued by Cricket and Hilda in a -valiant charge.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They had played the Chariot Race in Ben-Hur, -with Zaidee and Helen as horses, harnessed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>to an old wheel-chair, with Edith as -charioteer, while Cricket drove a dashing pair, -consisting of Eunice and Sylvie Craig. Hilda -and Kenneth were occupants of the amphitheatre, -and cheered on the contestants, as they -raced around the great chimney in the centre of -the house.</p> - -<p class='c010'>That naturally suggested the burning of -Rome, with Nero, personated by Eunice, fiddling, -as she sat on a very high and very insecure -tower, built of trunks and chairs and three-legged -tables, while the inhabitants of the city -tore around to save their property.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then they tied themselves up in bags, drawn -over their feet and around their waists, for tails, -and played they were mermaids, disporting -themselves among the rocks and seaweeds, -represented by boxes and old drapery, properly -arranged on one of the lower levels of the floor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This lasted until Kenneth, trying to imitate -the older girls in diving off a bowlder on to a -feather bed beneath, missed his balance and -fell entangled in the bag that served him for a -tail. He bumped his poor little head and made -his nose bleed, and was borne off shrieking, by -Eliza, who just then appeared on the scene.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>Then the Craigs and Hilda had to go home to -dinner, and the twins went out to play.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After dinner, Cricket and Eunice wandered -up stairs to the garret again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What let’s do now?” asked Eunice, as they -sat among the ruins of Rome.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, let’s—” Cricket looked vaguely -around. “Let’s dress up in those clothes up -there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Some old clothes of Dr. Ward’s, and of -Donald’s, hung up on the wall.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, that will be fun,” cried Eunice, jumping -down. “We haven’t dressed up this summer, -once.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>They slipped out of their gingham dresses -and petticoats, and with much giggling and -merriment got themselves into the boys’ clothes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The trousers were so long that they had to -cut off the legs, to allow their feet to come out -at all, and the vests and coats were anything -but a tight fit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This coat is too fat for me,” Cricket said, -dubiously, studying the effect.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice caught up a small pillow and stuffed it -up behind Cricket’s back under the coat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But now I look hump-backed,” objected -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>Cricket, twisting herself double to get a rear -view.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Never mind, we’ll play you are hump-backed,” -returned Eunice, always ready of -resource, as she patted the pillow into a nice, -round hump. “We’ll play that we’re Italians, -and you can be that poor little Pickaninny, or -whatever his name was, that mamma read us -about last night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then we’ll be tramps. Oh, let’s go out -doors, and go round to the kitchen and scare -cook!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This proposal was received with applause by -Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wait till I slip down stairs into papa’s -office, Eunice,” Cricket suggested next, “and -I’ll get some court-plaster to patch up our -faces, and no one will ever know us. We’ll -have piles of fun!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket was gone a long time, and came back -giggling and breathless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I heard some one in the hall,” she said, “so -I didn’t dare go down stairs, and I just got out -of the bath-room window on to the office roof, -and I climbed down the trellis and went in the -office window, and just as I found the court-plaster -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>case, I heard some one coming, so I had -to run like fury, and I just flew out the window, -and didn’t I skip up the trellis lively!” gasped -Cricket, taking breath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then I heard some one in the hall, so I had -to stay in the bath-room ever so long, and I -thought they’d never go. And here’s the whole -case,” she said, producing it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But suppose that papa wants the case before -we can get it back?” asked Eunice, selecting -a big piece.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hope to goodness he won’t, or I’ll get a -wiggin,” said Cricket, calmly, applying, as she -spoke, a good-sized strip over one eye, while the -corner of Eunice’s mouth disappeared under a -black patch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Cricket, how funny you look!” Eunice -exclaimed, when she had completed her own -face. Cricket’s left eye had vanished, and two -long strips on the other side, right over her -dimples, completely disguised her. She had -stuck a broad-brimmed, ragged hat on the back -of her curly head, and streaked what was visible -of her face and her hands with soot from the -chimney.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You are the funniest girl!” Eunice cried, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>fairly doubling up with laughter, as Cricket -extricated a little black paw from her voluminous -coat sleeve, and said, in a whining -voice,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Please, ma’am, I’m a poor widdy, and I have -seven small children, and my wife is dead, and -I’m blind and deaf and dumb, and I can’t talk -on account of my bad rheumatics, and will you -give me some ice-cream and a cup of coffee?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>After they had laughed themselves sore, they -concluded that they were ready to set out, so -they stole cautiously down. Eunice had bundled -her long braid on top of her head under a battered -old felt hat, jammed well over her ears, -and nobody would have known the two dirty -little wretches that crept quietly over the stairs. -It was the middle of the afternoon, and as everybody -was napping, the coast was clear. They -slipped out the side door into the shrubbery, -and through that to the road, climbing the low -stone fence. Then they came up the lane to -the back door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cook was nodding on the shady back piazza, -as the grotesque little figures stole up the steps. -Cricket crept softly up and laid a grimy little -finger on the end of cook’s unconscious nose.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>Cook opened her eyes with a start.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Howly Moses!” she howled, thinking she -had the nightmare. “Get away wid yer.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m a poor widdy,” whined Cricket, holding -out her hand. “I’ve got seven small children, -and my back is so lame that I can’t talk.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He means he can’t work,” struck in Eunice. -“He doesn’t understand English very well, and -he’s so deaf anyway, he can’t hear what -he’s saying,” she explained to cook, who sat -staring.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Please, mum, if you’ve any very nice -chocolate pudding, I feel as if I could eat a -little,” said Cricket, with a remembrance of -dessert. “I had a very light breakfast,” folding -her hands over the pit of her stomach.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll light-breakfast yer, yer young imperence,” -growled cook, quite awake now. “Git -off these premises in the shake o’ a dyin’ lamb’s -tail, or I’ll know the raison whoy.” Cook was a -large woman, and as she slowly rose out of her -chair, she towered like a mountain above the -children, who instinctively dodged her threatening -hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Git out of this, immijit! Shure I’ll have no -tramps here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>“We’re not tramps,” said Eunice, changing -base. “We’re selling things.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s selling things ye are, are ye? and -shure, where’s the things ye’re afther sellin’?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’re selling post-holes,” said Cricket, -promptly, as her eye fell on a particularly large -hole near by, that had been freshly dug for a -clothes-post. “We’ve brought some with us.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Post-holes, is it?” cried cook, enraged, and -suspecting a joke; “we’ll see how yer like post-holes, -drat yer imperence,” and before Cricket -could dodge, she had swung her by the shoulders -off the steps, and jammed her very forcibly -into the hole.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sell post-holes again, will yer? I’ll sell yer -post-holes for yer!” cried cook, angrily.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Stop, cook!” screamed Eunice, hanging on -her arm; “it’s Cricket, cook, and it’s me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cook paused with uplifted arm, and Cricket, -decidedly the worse for wear, took the opportunity -to scramble out of the hole, exclaiming, -“We’re only pretending, cook, and we truly -didn’t mean to scare you so badly.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cook looked down on the little figures, about -a third as large as herself, and laughed grimly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Scare me, is it? Shure, I think the shoe’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>on the other fut. But you’re always up to your -tricks.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, you didn’t really scare me,” said -Cricket, “only you did hurt me a little when -you grabbed me by the nape of the arm. But I -wouldn’t have told if Eunice hadn’t.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I didn’t want you to get hurt, Cricket. -Come on, let’s go into the orchard and get -some harvest apples. Good-by, cook,” and the -little tramps ran off, hand in hand.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XII.<br /> <span class='large'>THE TRAMPS.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Once in the orchard, they felt as if their feet -were on their native heath, and they were up, -in a twinkling, among the branches of their -favourite tree.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In the munching of apples they quite forgot -that they were tramps, until Cricket remarked -that her hump made a most convenient pillow -for her to lean back against.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“These clothes are getting awfully hot, -Cricket,” said Eunice. “I wouldn’t be a boy -for anything I can think of, to wear such things -all the time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think girls are nicer than boys, anyway,” -remarked Cricket, thoughtfully. “Girls are -always smarter, and I think it makes boys mad.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Will always says if anything isn’t just right -that we do, that it’s just like a girl,” returned -Eunice, in an aggrieved tone.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, boys are just so funny, but I don’t -mind,” said Cricket, philosophically.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>“I’ve about made up my mind,” pursued -Eunice, “that I sha’n’t get married when I grow -up. Husbands are such a ’sponsibility. Mamma, -you know, always fixes papa’s cravats for -him, and he never, never goes to the right -drawer for his clean shirts. It’s so funny! -Shall you get married, Cricket?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket considered the question.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think,” she said, after some reflection, -“that if I don’t go to Africa as a missionary, -that I’d rather be a widow with an only son.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But Cricket,” exclaimed Eunice, “you’d -have to be married first if you were a widow.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, so I should!” returned Cricket, much -surprised. “I didn’t think of that. You see, -Aunt Kate and Harry have such nice times -travelling round together, and there’s Aunt -Helen and Max, too. I was thinking of them, -and I forgot they were ever married.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think I’ll be a doctor, like papa,” went on -Eunice, “or else I’d like to be a stage-driver. -Whoa! get up there! So, boy!” she said, -slapping imaginary reins, for Eunice was a born -horsewoman.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“These clothes <i>are</i> awfully hot, Eunice,” said -Cricket, returning to the original topic.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>“Let’s go and take them off now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice was quite willing, so they clambered -down, chattering and laughing still.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At a little distance stood old Thomas, attracted -by their voices. He had been coming -through the orchard, and he saw up in the tree -what he thought were two ragamuffins, stealing -apples, and he was lying in wait for their -descent. As they slipped down, and swung off -from a low branch, he darted forward, and -caught one of them in his arms. Of course, it -chanced to be Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve caught ye now, ye young rascal! I’ll -teach yer to steal our apples!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, Thomas!” cried Cricket, “don’t you -know me?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yer bet I know yer. I’ve been watchin’ -for yer this long time back. I ’low I’ll give yer -a trouncin’ that yer’ll remember for one while, -yer young scallawags!” Thomas cried, holding -the struggling child by the shoulder, and bringing -his stick whack across her back. The big -pillow saved her from the blow, and Eunice -again flew to the rescue. She managed to get -hold of the stick, and clung to it with both her -strong little hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>“Don’t you know us, Thomas?” both children -cried. “We’re not stealing apples; they’re -ours.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yourn, be they? I’ll teach yer if they’re -yourn, yer young impidence!” Thomas cried, -angrily, drowning the children’s protests in his -loud tones. “I’ve been on the lookout fer ye, -stealin’ my apples and melins, and garden truck. -I’ll hev ye up before the doctor. He said he -saw two strange boys scootin’ round the orchard -’sarternoon; and now I’ve caught yer, I’ll -teach yer to steal apples and sich,” shaking her -till her teeth knocked together, and her arms -flew about like a wind-mill.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then he tightened his clutch upon the unfortunate -Cricket, who was quite overcome by this -second attack, and grasping Eunice by the arm, -he started off, dragging the protesting children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let us <i>alone</i>, Thomas,” screamed Cricket, at -the top of her lungs. “We—’re—not—boys—at—all.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yer don’t come none o’ yer stuff over me,” -was all the answer Thomas vouchsafed, still -dragging them on with relentless hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But it’s Cricket,” cried that victim, despairingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>Thomas dropped his hold so suddenly that -Cricket sat down very unexpectedly. Eunice -pulled off her battered felt hat, and her long -braid fell down her back.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thomas, who had been completely taken in, -stared at them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why didn’t ye say so before?” he said, at -length. “Gittin’ yerselves up in such rigs that -yer own mar wouldn’t ha’ knowed ye. Kep’ a -sayin’ ‘We’re not boys, we’re not boys,’ when -anyone with half an eye could see ye was. -Henderin’ me outer half an arternoon’s work,” -and Thomas went off, disgusted.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children looked at each other and burst out -laughing. Their disguise had been altogether -too successful. Cricket rubbed her shoulder -comically.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I guess Thomas’s fingers are tipped with -steel,” she said. “I know I’m all black and -blue.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poor Cricket,” said Eunice, sympathetically. -“First you were jammed into a hole and then -you were shaken to jelly. I don’t see why he -didn’t grab me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s a peculiar concidence,” said Cricket, -meaning coincidence. “No matter who’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>around, <i>I</i> always am grabbed. Let’s go and -get some plums.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There were some choice early plums near the -front of the house, and the children gathered -a good supply and retired into a little rustic -arbour to eat them. Presently a carriage full -of callers rolled up the avenue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Dear me; it’s the Saunders,” said Cricket, -peeping out, “and there’s Irene Saunders. -Gracious, Eunice, mamma’ll be looking for -us in a minute! Let’s skip round to the -side-door as soon as they’re in the house.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But to their dismay, they heard the ladies -say to the maid,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s so charming on this lovely piazza, -that we will wait here for Mrs. Ward.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The piazza was a delightful place, twelve feet -broad, and supplied with lounging chairs of -every description, a table, magazines, hammocks, -cushions and rugs, and sufficiently shaded by -vines to soften the sunlight. But the arbour -where the children were was in full view.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Shall we go, anyway?” asked Eunice, but -before they could get out, Dr. Ward came -round the house, and greeted the guests on the -piazza.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>“Now, what shall we do?” said Cricket, in -despair. “If papa sees us he’ll certainly think -we are tramps, too. I heard him tell Thomas, -the other day, that tramps were getting so -thick, he might have to set the dog on some -of them. I don’t think I <i>could</i> stand any more -knocking round.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, let’s wait,” said Eunice, for there -seemed to be nothing else to do.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Just then Mrs. Ward appeared, and after a -moment there were inquiries for Cricket and -Eunice. The children were near enough to -hear every word.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want my sister to see your little flock, -Mrs. Ward,” said Mrs. Saunders, graciously, -“for you know we all think they are the -show-children of the neighbourhood.” Mrs. -Saunders was a woman of much means and -little cultivation, who had lately taken a -summer home in Wellsboro.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Accordingly the twins and Kenneth were -soon produced, for they were fresh from the -nurse’s hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And Cricket?” said Mrs. Saunders, again, -presently. “She is such a charming child—so -original and interesting.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>“Oh!” groaned Cricket, in the arbour.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Children,” said Mrs. Ward to the twins, -“you may go, please, and see if you and Eliza -can’t find Cricket and Eunice. Kenneth, you -take Irene down to the flower-beds, and you -may pick a big bunch of nasturtiums.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The nasturtium bed was dangerously near the -arbour. Cricket and Eunice scarcely breathed. -The little ones picked the flowers and chatted -together.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What a pretty little house,” said Irene, -presently, noticing the arbour. “Is it your -house, Kenneth? What’s in it?” She pushed -apart the vines and peeped through the lattice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The next moment the grown people were -startled by the little ones’ cries of terror. -Frightened by the unexpected sight of the -queer-looking creatures in the arbour, they ran -screaming toward the house.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There!” said Cricket, desperately. “We -might as well go out. Children are the curiousest -things.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s dretful things there!” screamed -Irene, flying to her mother.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dr. Ward came quickly down the steps to investigate.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>Then he stopped and stared in astonishment; -and so did everybody else, as the grotesque little -figures came slowly out of the arbour.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s only me, papa,” Cricket said, dejectedly; -“we have been dressing-up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>By this time they were veritable scare-crows. -Cricket’s hump was well wedged up under one -shoulder, and soot, dirt and court-plaster, combined -with the effects of the heat, made a -little black-a-moor of her. Her hat hung -over one ear, and her curly crop was all on -end. Eunice’s long hair was loosened from its -braid, and hung over her back in a rough, black -mass.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cutting off the trousers to make them short -enough had left the upper part of them so very -long that walking was difficult, except by a constant -hitching up of the band, and their slender -little legs looked like very small clappers in -very big bells.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The doctor kept his gravity with difficulty, and -the guests looked on in polite astonishment at -the remarkable apparitions, for a moment, and -then everybody laughed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mrs. Ward recovered herself immediately.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mrs. Saunders,” she said, resignedly, “this is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>Cricket, my charming and original child, if -you will pardon my repeating your words. But -I am sure this is a case when distance will lend -enchantment to your opinion of her. You may -go, Cricket.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And the shamefaced children gladly fled.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII.<br /> <span class='large'>MAMIE HECKER.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>According to the children’s ideas, one of the -funniest things about living in the country was -that eggs could be used as money.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was such a delightfully simple way of getting -candy. One could go to the barns, find two -eggs, and, with one in each hand, march off to -the corner grocery-store and get their value in -chocolate-sticks, if you liked chocolate. If not, -why, four marsh-mallows, rather stale and -floury, to be sure, but just as nice for toasting, -could be had for one egg.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It always seemed remarkably like getting -candy for nothing, and “egg-candy,” as they -called it, was certainly much more delicious than -that for which one paid just ordinary, every-day -pennies.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There were many errands to be done in so -large a family, and as mamma believed that -every child should be brought up to be useful, -Cricket and Eunice were very apt to be the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>“leggers,” as they called it. They usually sold -their services for an egg or two apiece.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, young women,” said Dr. Ward, one -morning, “I am in search of a pair of messengers -of just about your size.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right, papa. You can have them on the -usual terms,” answered Cricket, importantly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re a regular pair of Jews, you two,” -laughed papa, teasingly. “You do nothing for -nothing. Don’t you think you ought to run on -errands for love? I work for your board and -clothes, and certainly you should do errands for -me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I shouldn’t,” returned Cricket, hugging -him. “I love you in return for that, and I cut -your magazines for you, too. That’s plenty -of pay. The errands are my persquisites. -Cook says everybody ought to have persquisites.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, that’s it. On the ground of persquisites, -then, I’m perfectly willing to pay.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And then, of course,” went on Cricket, “I -would be willing to do an errand for nothing, -very socionally”—she meant occasionally—“just -to be obliging, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s very kind of you, I’m sure,” laughed -papa. “Now, then, I want you to go to Mr. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>Henry Barnes, and give him this note, and wait -for an answer. It’s important. Then, when -you come back, you can go to the barns and get -two eggs apiece, and go to the store if you want -to. When you come back, mind. I want the -note carried directly.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right, sir,” answered Cricket, taking the -note, and away scampered the little “leggers” -for their broad-brimmed hats.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It goes without saying that Cricket’s could -not be found, and at last she recollected she had -dropped it yesterday, down into the dry well in -the lower pasture, and had forgotten to get it -again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Can’t I wear my best one, mamma?” she -begged.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, my dear, certainly not,” answered -mamma, not knowing it was necessary that -the note should be taken immediately. “You -know that is the rule always. If you will be -careless and leave your things about, you must -find them.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>So the children ran down to the lower pasture -after the hat. It took some time to recover it, -and then they had forgotten that there was any -necessity for haste.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>“Let’s take the ponies,” said Eunice, as they -came back from the pasture, “and ride around -the lake-road home. I haven’t been there since -I fell in.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We can’t,” said Cricket. “Mike said yesterday -that Charcoal’s shoe was loose, and he -must take him to the blacksmith’s this morning. -I saw him going right after breakfast, and he -isn’t home yet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, bother! then we’ll have to walk,” said -Eunice. But the walk looked very inviting, as -they turned out of the avenue into the shady -road. It wound down the hill, over the Kayuna, -and swept around the curve out of sight.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Just over the bridge was the farmer’s house, -a low, white building, half hidden in the trees. -As the two little girls passed, they saw a frowzyheaded -child of seven swinging on the gate.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“H’lo!” she called. “Where you goin’?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Somewhere to make little girls ask questions,” -replied Eunice, teasingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m goin’, too,” cried the child, scrambling -down off the gate.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now Mamie Hecker, the farmer’s little daughter, -always wanted to “go too,” whenever she -saw the children pass. She was a whining, dirty, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>disagreeable little thing, and always made herself -very unpleasant. She stuck to the children -like a burr, and oftentimes they would go far out -of their way, if they saw her in the distance, to -avoid her tagging after them. So when she now -got off the gate and came up, chewing her sunbonnet -string, as usual, the two little girls exchanged -vexed glances.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You can’t come, too,” said Cricket, decidedly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, I can, too, you’re goin’ to the store -to get some candy an’ I want some, too,” cried -Mamie, dancing around them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, we’re not, either. We’re going for a -long walk, and you can’t come one step,” said -Eunice, looking very determined, as they walked -on.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I will come, too! I will!” cried Mamie, -catching hold of her dress, and trotting along.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t you dare touch my dress with your -dirty little fingers,” cried Eunice, pulling her -fresh gingham frock indignantly out of Mamie’s -hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie Hecker was one of those disagreeable -children that give everyone a desire to box their -ears, no matter what they do. Truth to tell, she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>generally deserved it, for her mother spoiled -her. She was almost the only person that upset -Cricket’s sweet temper, and Cricket now looked -as if she could bite her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Cricket!” exclaimed Eunice, stopping -short. “Have you papa’s note?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I thought you had,” said Cricket, in -dismay.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We must have left it by the dry well, then,” -said Eunice, turning. “We must go and find it. -Now, we’re going home again,” she added to -Mamie, “so you needn’t tag any more. Horrid -little tag-tail, anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice ran back up the road, -jumped over the fence, and raced across to the -pasture. Much to their relief, the white envelope -still lay where they had left it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket picked it up, and put it safely in her -pocket this time, and then the children walked -more deliberately back.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let’s get our eggs now,” Eunice said, as -they passed near the barn, “and skip around -to the store the back way and get some candy, -so we’ll have it to eat on the way. I’m awfully -hungry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right, and Mamie Hecker won’t see us, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>either,” assented Cricket, entirely forgetting her -father’s order to do the errand first. So they -turned towards the barns. They had to search -some little time for eggs, for the hens were late -about their usual duties.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Plaguey things,” said Cricket, “and there’s -lots of hens standing ’round doing nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, here’s a nest,” called Eunice, “with two -eggs in it, and here’s a hen on—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket unceremoniously slipped her hand -under the hen and whisked her off. A warm -white egg lay in the nest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She was just going to cluck, anyway,” -said Cricket, as the hen clucked indignantly. -“Say, cut-a-cut-ca-da-cut, if you want to, and -don’t scold so. Your egg is all right. Here’s -another in this nest. That’s four. Come on.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>They went out the side-door of the barn, intending -to run across the orchard and into the -back door of the store, and then to take a cut -over the fields to the main road again. This -would bring them out below the Heckers’ -house.</p> - -<p class='c010'>To their great disgust, however, just outside -the barnyard, they found Mamie Hecker lurking.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>“I seen yer,” she said, triumphantly. “You’ve -got some eggs, and you’re a-goin’ to the store -to swap them for some candy. I’m a-goin’, -too.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, Mamie Hecker,” said Eunice, stopping -angrily, “you can go straight home. You -shan’t go one step with us.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie squinted up her impish little black -eyes, provokingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Road’s mine as much as yours,” she said, -dancing around, in a way peculiar to herself. -“You can’t help my walkin’ in it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You shan’t come with us,” said Eunice, -stubbornly, ignoring that point.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll come as far as my father’s fence, any -way,” said Mamie, walking backwards in front -of them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re a horrid, mean, little copy-cat,” -said Cricket, wrathfully. “I shouldn’t think -you’d like to come where you’re not wanted.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t keer,” returned Mamie, carelessly. -“I want some candy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’ve given you candy, and we’ve <i>given</i> you -candy,” said Cricket, “and the more we give -you, the more you want. You shall not go one -step with us to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>“I’ll go as far as my pa’s fence goes, anyway,” -repeated Mamie, skipping along, “’n’ I’ll -go further if I wanter.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamie Hecker,” said Eunice, stopping suddenly, -“if you go one step further than your -father’s fence,—I’ll spank you.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV.<br /> <span class='large'>LYNCH-LAW.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Mamie looked considerably startled. Provoking -little imp as she was, the girls had never -actually touched her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You dassent,” she said, unbelievingly, after -a moment. “You dassent tetch me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, I do dare, and I will,” said Eunice, -firmly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children had been walking on through -the orchard, during the dispute, Mamie keeping -along by the fence. They were close to the -corner now, where a gate opened.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t you follow us one step beyond that -gate.” Eunice looked so determined that -Mamie thought she had better try to make -terms.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If I don’t go no further,” she said, hanging -on to the gate, “will you give me candy when -you come back?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I won’t. We’re not coming back this -way.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>“Then I’ll come, too,” said Mamie, suddenly -deciding to risk it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice went slowly through -the gate. Eunice looked like a high executioner.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie hesitated a moment, then slowly followed -after.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m a-comin’,” she called, rashly, bringing -her fate on her own head.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice turned around very promptly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket, please hold my eggs for me. Now, -Mamie Hecker, if you step over that stick,—you’ll -see.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie immediately took a step forward, keeping -her eye on Eunice, intending to dodge at -the last moment. Eunice stood perfectly still. -She was a tall, strongly-built girl, for her age, -and quite capable of carrying out her threat. -Mamie Hecker had always been a thorn in her -flesh, and there were a thousand provoking -things in the past to punish her for.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie took another step. Eunice looked -indifferent. Another stop, and she stood by the -stick that was her Rubicon. Eunice looked up -at the sky. Mamie put her foot cautiously over -the stick, ready to fly at Eunice’s first movement. Eunice seemed not to see her. Mamie -took another step and was fairly over.</p> - -<div id='ill_134' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span> -<img src='images/ill_134.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>CRICKET AND EUNICE THREATEN TO PUNISH MAMIE.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>Eunice swooped down upon her like a hawk, -and grabbed her skirt, as the child dodged, -shrieking. She caught her, struggling, and, -with a deft sweep of her arm, a trick learned -in playing foot-ball with the boys, she brought -Mamie into approved spanking position, and -then and there gave her a punishment which she -always richly deserved, but which it was her -mother’s place, not Eunice’s, to give her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie shrieked at the top of her lungs, -“Eunice is killin’ me! Eunice is killin’ me!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do hold her mouth, Cricket,” said Eunice, -spanking on. “Horrid little thing! I’ll give -her something to cry for, for once.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket came nearer, with her eggs still in -her hand. Mamie’s wildly kicking feet gave -her a vigorous thump in the stomach, that unexpectedly -doubled her up like a jack-knife, -crushing her eggs which she still held in her -hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Children!” suddenly came a well-known -voice behind them. “What does this disgraceful -scene mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There stood Doctor Ward and Archie. Eunice’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>hand dropped instantly, and she released -her kicking victim. Mamie righted herself, and -flew at her, screaming. Cricket rose slowly out -of the dust, pushing back her hair, with egg-stained -hands, that left a yellow plaster on her -curly pate. Her blue cambric was smeared -from neck to hem with rivers of egg. Eunice’s -hat was off, her hair streaming wildly over her -shoulders, her cheeks scarlet, and her eyes -flashing. Mamie had torn her dress badly, and -both girls were a spectacle.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Doctor Ward caught Mamie by the shoulder, -with a strong hand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Be quiet, child,” he said, sternly. “Girls, -what does all this mean? Have you been to -Mr. Barnes?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, papa,” faltered Cricket, suddenly conscience-smitten. -In her excitement, she had -entirely forgotten that they had been sent on an -important errand.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not <i>yet</i>? And I sent you two hours ago. -Where is the note?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here it is,” and Cricket produced from her -pocket a very crumpled envelope, which looked -as if it had seen hard service.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This? Do you mean to tell me that this is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>the note I gave you? I certainly can’t send -this. Archie, will you go to Mr. Barnes for me, -and tell him—no, I must write him again. -He should have had this an hour ago, for he -will be gone to town, and he should have had it -before he left. Cricket, you have put me in a -very unpleasant position.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, papa, I am so sorry!” said Cricket, -miserably. “First we forgot this note, and had -to go back.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s a baby trick. I thought you were -getting over that. Go on.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then we thought we’d get the eggs and go -to the store first, so as to have the candy to eat -on the way; and Mamie said she’d go, and I -said she shouldn’t, and Eunice said she’d spank -her if she did,—horrid little thing; and she did, -and Eunice spanked her, and she kicked me and -broke my eggs,” finished Cricket, rapidly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Doctor Ward’s mouth twitched a little under -his moustache, although he was seriously annoyed -that the note had not reached its destination -in time. He knew very well what a -torment Mamie was to everyone, and he did -not in his heart blame the girls for taking the -law into their own hands. However, he said:</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>“You have disobeyed me, children. I told -you to go <i>directly</i> with the note, and get your -candy afterwards. Your disobedience is the -cause of your very unladylike display of temper. -You can both go to the house. Mamie, you may -go home also. See that hereafter you do not -follow or tease the girls, and I will see that they -never touch you again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice walked soberly up to the -house, meek enough in appearance, but really -deeply indignant. To be sent away in disgrace -before that horrid little Mamie Hecker! She -was dancing around at a safe distance, calling -after them, jeeringly,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, ho! Who’s caught it now! Spank me -again, will yer?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dr. Ward marched the two little girls into the -house, and ordered them both off to be made -presentable again, and then to come to the -library.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Fifteen minutes later, two clean, but very -solemn-looking children presented themselves -at the library door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Children,” began Dr. Ward, sternly, as they -stood before him, “you have disobeyed me. I -told you to go <i>immediately</i> on an errand, and you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>loitered. The fact that the note happened to be -important, does not render your disobedience -any more serious, remember, although it makes -the consequences more serious for me. You -also gave way, both of you, to a very unladylike -display of temper. As a punishment, I -shall keep you apart all day. You must not -even speak to each other. Eunice, you may go -to your mother, and she will give you something -to do, and Cricket may stay here in the library -till dinner-time. You may learn something to -occupy your time. Let me see. You may sit -down and learn your Sunday-school lesson for -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, papa!” groaned Cricket, at the thought -of really losing that beautiful day out-of-doors. -“Please, <i>please</i> do something to us and let us -go! I’d truly rather you’d give me three hard -slaps with your ruler.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My dear little girl,” said the doctor, “you -know I could not possibly give you three hard -slaps, or even one hard slap, with the ruler; for -that would hurt me rather more than it would -you, and I think it is you two that deserve punishment.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll go to bed earlier to-night, then, a whole -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>hour,” pleaded Cricket, “if you will only let us -speak to each other. I know we were dreadfully -careless about the note, but I won’t forget -again, truly, at least not for a long time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, it must stand as I said, my dear. Besides, -you know you lost your tempers disgracefully -with that little Mamie.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You needn’t take the trouble to punish us -for spanking that Mamie,” Cricket burst out, on -this, fairly swelling with wrath at the remembrance. -“She just needed it, papa, for she’s -such a horrid little thing, and such a tag-tail, -and her mother never spanks her.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And anyway, papa,” struck in Eunice, her -eyes flashing still, “I don’t mind if you do punish -me for that, for it was such a satisfaction.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, well,” said papa, coughing behind his -hand. “I really think you won’t do that again. -And the next time you think that Mamie needs -punishment, don’t try lynch-law, but refer to the -higher powers.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I will, papa. What is lynch-law?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lynch-law, my dear, is the process of inflicting -punishment, by private persons, for crimes -or offences, without reference to law. That is, -you know, that however disagreeable Mamie -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>may be, and however much she annoys you, you -really had no right to touch her. You should -have consulted your mother or me long ago, before -things came to this pass. We are the law, -in this case. Instead of this, you took the law -into your own hands, and the consequence is -that the law now takes you in hand. However, -I am willing to consider the mitigating circumstances—that -means what excuse you had—and -we will say that you two must remain apart -till dinner-time, and meditate on the beauty of -the virtue of instant obedience.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, papa,” cried Cricket, hugging him well, -willing to take her punishment now that the -merited lecture was over, “next time that you -send me with a note I’ll go like a little spider, -you’ll see!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But I regret to say that Cricket even after -this had a very hard lesson before she learned to -be perfectly trustworthy where her memory was -concerned. But this story comes later.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XV.<br /> <span class='large'>GOING TO THE CIDER MILL.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>It was a hot, scorching afternoon in late -August. All the grown people had retired to -darkened rooms in the coolest depths of the -great stone house, in search of what comfort -could be found. Even nurse had gone to bed -with a headache.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma and auntie had tried to sit on the -piazza, for a time, to watch the little ones, but -at last they, too, had to give it up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What are children made of?” sighed auntie. -“How <i>can</i> they want to stay out doors, and -broil in the sun, instead of playing in that -great, cool nursery? Shall we make them come -in?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the children rebelled at the very idea.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, it isn’t very hot,” said Cricket, in -amazement. “Go in the house? in the daytime? -when it doesn’t rain?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>So mamma charged the older ones to take -good care of the twins, and impressed upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>Cricket that she must not let Kenneth out of -her sight, “and don’t go away,” she finished.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I doesn’t want anyone to take care of me,” -objected Kenneth. “I sink I’m a big man, -mamma.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But his mamma kissed him, and told him -that even big men minded their sisters; and -then she and auntie betook themselves to the -darkened depths of their own rooms, and the -coolness of cambric wrappers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The hot hours went by. The children played -contentedly for a time, then they grew tired of -everything, and a little cross, too, for they were -really worn out by the heat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last, the whole flock of six sat in a disconsolate -row along the broad stone fence that -surrounded the grounds. Kenneth fretted for -something to do, and the twins teased each -other.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If only these children weren’t here,” said -Eunice, somewhat crossly, “we might do something.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s never any fun with children round,” -answered Hilda, severely.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t like to be here anyway,” whined -Zaidee. “I wish nurse would come.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>“Hark!” exclaimed Cricket. “I hear something,” -as the heavy rumble of wheels was -heard. The children watched the bend of the -road with interest. Anything that passed was -of the greatest importance in the present want -of amusement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s Thomas, with the oxen,” cried Eunice. -“Let’s make him take us, too—oh, bother! -these children.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The heavy team lumbered in sight, drawn by -big, black oxen. Old Thomas was plodding -along by their side, occasionally cracking the -long lash of his goad around their patient heads. -Will and Archie stood in the cart.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thomas stopped his team in the shade and -wiped his forehead with his big red bandanna.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ruther a warmish day,” he remarked, as if -it were a new discovery.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where are you going?” chorused the -children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Down to the cider mill,” answered Will, -briskly. “Come, get up, Tummas.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, dear!” grumbled Eunice, “you boys can -go everywhere, and have piles of fun, and we’ve -got to stay here and take care of <i>children</i>,”—with -withering scorn.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>“Come along, all of you, if you want,” said -Archie. “’Tisn’t far.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But Kenneth and the twins,” objected -Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, let the kids come, too,” replied Archie, -jumping down. The “kids” hopped around in -great glee at the idea.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamma told us not to go away,” began -Eunice, doubtfully; but Hilda, who was less -used to obedience, said quickly,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She only meant we were not to go away -from the children, and we’re not. We’re going -to take them. Put them in, Arch,” and in she -scrambled, while Archie swung the little ones -over the side of the cart.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come, Tummas, Tummas, get up the old -gee-haws,” Will said, and off they started. The -three little ones sat in a jubilant row on the -bottom of the cart, and the girls balanced themselves -on the empty cider barrels, for there was -no seat. Stolen fruits are always sweet, and -their rather uneasy consciences gave an additional -zest to the fun.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Gee, haw!” cried Thomas, cracking his -lash around the yoke of the plodding team. -Down the road they pitched and lumbered, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>screaming with merriment, across the bridge, -under which the little winding Kayuna babbled, -and up the rather steep hill on the other side.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last they reached the cider mill. What -fun it was to run around the apple-smelling -place, and to suck, through a straw, the sickishly-sweet -juice dropping from the press.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth was lost once, to be discovered -leaning over one of the low vats, splashing -his hands in the pale, yellow liquid with great -enjoyment. Of course he was soaked to his -shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You bad boy,” scolded Eunice, fishing him -out. “Look at your dress!” for it was -drenched with cider and black with dirt. -His face was grimy and his curls sticky and -odourous.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“My! won’t ’Liza scold!” commented Zaidee, -very comfortingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth looked aggrieved, and put up his lip.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You bringed me, Tritet; I’m hundery, and -I want my supper.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come, young uns,” shouted Thomas, outside, -when he had filled his barrels and loaded -them up. “Git in with you now, or we won’t -git to go to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>He hoisted Zaidee and Helen over the side, -and gave Kenneth a tremendous swing right -over into the corner. The girls scrambled over -the tail-board.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, where’s them rambunktious boys?” -said Thomas, looking in the sheds. “Hullo! -there, you fellers—I’m a-goin’.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The boys had gone to explore the gable of -the mill, and were now seen walking along the -ridge-pole.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You scallawags!” screamed Thomas, “come -down here. I’m a-goin’ immijit!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Archie sat down astride the gable.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right, old Thomas, we’ll be there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>His pockets were stuffed with small green -apples, as convenient missiles for any chance -mark. He took one out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bet you, Will, that I can hit old Judge -square between the horns,” he said, taking aim. -Straight away sped the bullet-like missile. It -missed its mark, however, and struck old Judge -a stinging blow full on his sensitive nose.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Old Judge’s temper was none of the best -under any circumstances. He threw up his -head with a sudden bellow of pain and rage, -and then, jerking forward, to the surprise of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>everyone, he started off at a heavy lumbering -run, dragging with him his astonished yokefellow.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whoa, thar,” cried Thomas. “Whoa, ye -fool-critters! whoa, thar!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He might as well have called to the wind. -The clumsy creatures had found that they could -run, and frightened by the noise of the heavy -cart, lumbering at their heels, by the shrieking -children, and by the shouts of the men, bewildered -by their own revolt, and the unusual -feeling of liberty, they covered the ground at -a swinging pace.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The cart rolled and pitched and the barrels -lurched unsteadily. Then a spigot, insecurely -fastened, and loosened by the jolting, came out -of the bung-hole, followed by a spurting deluge -of cider.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVI.<br /> <span class='large'>THE RUNAWAY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Poor little Kenneth, well-wedged into the -corner, was really in danger of being seriously -hurt by a reeling barrel, and gave vent to -steady howls of terror. Zaidee and Helen -clung to each other, and screamed in concert, -as they pitched this way and that. The cart -bumped and rattled along over the rough lane -that led down to the mill.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice and Hilda and Cricket were still -sitting, with their feet swinging over the tail-board, -holding on for dear life.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whoa! gee! haw!” shouted Eunice, steadily; -but none of them realized that they were -actually in any danger.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Suddenly the cart gave a tremendous lurch -over a big stone, and then up a high “thank-you-ma’am.” -The tail-board gave way, and the -astonished girls were jerked violently forward, -and then suddenly found themselves sitting in -the dusty road. And on went the oxen.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>The little ones, still more frightened when -they found themselves alone in the cart, redoubled -their howls. They were badly bruised -with the jolting, drenched with cider, and scared -out of their little wits.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let’s jump out, too,” screamed Zaidee, wild -with terror.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m ’fraid to,” sobbed Helen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m ’fraid to stay here—we—could—roll—out—just—as—easy,” -the words coming -in jerks, as the runaway team turned a -dangerously sharp corner, nearly upsetting the -reeling cart.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m going to say my prayers!” said Zaidee, -with sudden inspiration. “Then le’s jump.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>So Zaidee steadied herself on her poor little -battered knees, by the side of the cart, but she -could think of nothing but her little evening -prayer. At the top of her lungs, so “God -could hear,” she prayed:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c011'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Now I lay me down to sleep,</div> - <div class='line'>I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep.</div> - <div class='line'>If I should die before I wake,</div> - <div class='line'>I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take.</div> - <div class='line'>And this I ask for Jesus’ sake, Amen!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c012'>“Come on, Helen!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>And before they could have said “Jack Robinson,” -out they rolled, a wretched little mixed-up -bundle of bewildered arms and legs and bumped -heads, in the dust. And on went the oxen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Back in the distance came Thomas’s voice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whoa, thar! ye fool-critters!” his nearest -approach to a “swear-word.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thomas, himself, came lumbering along as -heavily, but much less swiftly, than the runaway -pair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice and Hilda were making -the dust fly with their brisk little heels, as -they, too, shouted in steady chorus, “Whoa, -Judge! Whoa, Cap’n! gee! haw!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Will and Archie came on at a steady run, -adding their yells to the uproar, and making -the terrified oxen sure that they were pursued -by demons.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth’s steady shrieks had not lessened in -volume, but he was getting hoarse, and his -sobbing breaths came shorter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The cart was firm and strong, with closely -fitted boards, so the poor child was now sitting -in quite a tossing sea of cider. The fast-emptying -barrel reeled more and more, and the -frightened baby beat it with both hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>Now the oxen were well on the home stretch. -They had reached the short steep hill by the -farmer’s house. The farmer’s wife, hearing the -shrieks, had run out on the little bridge, and -now saw the cart come in sight at the top of -the hill.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She caught off her blue checked apron, and -ran forward flourishing it, and screaming to her -husband,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Gustus John! ’Gustus John! Jedge and -Cap’n are runnin’ away!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Gustus John appeared at the bars.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wal, ye don’t say! Here! run ’em into the -brook, ’Mandy, ’n I’ll stop ’em thar.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Mandy—otherwise Mrs. Hecker—waved -her blue banner and cried “Whoa!” “Whoa!” -in shrill soprano, heading the oxen off, as they -came plunging down the hill. At the sight of -’Mandy and her apron, they sheered off into -the side-track through the brook; but there -stood ’Gustus John, with a big stick and outstretched -arms, barring their way, and shouting -tremendous “Whoas!” in familiar tones.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Whether the oxen were tired with their -unusual exercise, or whether they simply concluded -it was time to stop, I do not know, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>but Judge and Captain brought up as suddenly -as they had started, and, with quivering sides -and tossing heads, they stood stock-still in the -brook.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In a moment poor little dirty Kenneth was in -’Mandy’s motherly arms, and shortly after the -whole excited group were gathered on the -bridge.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nice-lookin’ passel of young uns you air,” -commented ’Mandy. “I do vum! ef you -children don’t beat the Dutch. Like as not -them oxen would have run into the brook -anyway and upsot the cart, ef I hadn’t hev -ben here, and this little chap would hev ben -drownded, sure.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Them children’s regular Jonahses,” grumbled -Thomas, in short gasps for breath. -“Never takes ’em nowhere thet suthin doesn’t -happen onto some on ’em. I never see oxen -run away but once before, and there ain’t no -stoppin’ ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wonder is that they hain’t all killed,” said -’Gustus John. “It’s a real meracle that this -’ere little chap didn’t git his head broke with -thet ’ere bar’l, a-rollin’ round like a pea in a -pod.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>“Yer ma ’n’ yer pa ’n’ ’Liza hes all ben down -here, a-lookin’ fur yer everywhere,” said Mrs. -Hecker. “It’s past seven, an’ they thought you -was lost, sure. Here they be, now;” and down -the road came an excited group of house-people.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, where have you been, you naughty, -naughty children!” cried mamma, hurrying on -ahead. “We have been so frightened about -you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Papa took Kenneth from ’Mandy’s arms and -held him up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, of all tough specimens! Mamma, this -can’t be your young man.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Poor Kenneth! his broad-brimmed hat hung -down his back, held around his chin by a soaking -wet elastic cord, which left inky stains on his -throat. His sticky curls stood up stiffly in -plastered masses, all over his head. His face -was begrimed with dirt and cider and tears. -His kilts hung in festoons from his belt. His -stockings were down, dropping over his shoes. -His whole attire was soaking wet, and smelling -like a lager-beer saloon, his father said.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This is not your young man,” repeated papa, -holding him at arm’s length, in spite of his -struggles.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>“I want my mamma!” wailed Kenneth. “I -sought I was a big man, an’ I’se nossing but a -little boy!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And mamma hugged her bruised and dirty -baby close to her dainty cambric dress, with a -heart so filled with thankfulness as she learned -of the real danger that the little fellow had been -in, that she could not give the girls, then, the -lecture that they certainly deserved for their -disobedience, and which their father saw that -they had, later.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVII.<br /> <span class='large'>GOING BLACKBERRYING.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Unusual peace and quiet reigned at Kayuna -for a time after the excitement of the runaway. -It was an unusually warm summer, and so even -Cricket, the tireless, was somewhat subdued. -Hilda Mason went away for a visit, and her little -friend missed her very much, for, as she said -privately to Eunice, “Hilda was so much willinger -to do things than she used to be.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eunice and Cricket had long planned a blackberrying -party when the blackberries should be -in their prime, and mamma said that now would -be just the time to go. The girls had been expecting -their little cousin, Edna Somers, the -sister of Will and Archie, to visit them for a -week, and as she arrived on Monday, they decided -that the next Wednesday should be the important -day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The rest of the party was to consist of Edith -Craig, from the Rectory, Ray Emmons, Phil -Howard, and his sister Rose, and Daisy and Harry -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>Pelham. They planned to get up very early on -Wednesday,—oh, by five o’clock, say,—get an -early breakfast of bread and milk from the -cook, have luncheon enough packed for both -dinner and supper, and then start for the -blackberry pasture, which was nearly three miles -away.</p> - -<p class='c010'>No one of the children but the Howards and -Ray Emmons had ever been there, but they were -sure that they could easily find the way again. -They would go through the woods to the West -Road, and then they were almost there. They -would arrive on the spot long before the sun -grew hot, and would pick blackberries for -awhile. Then, when they chose, they would -find a nice place and take their luncheon. Then -they would rest awhile, and after that, pick -more berries till their pails were full, and then, -finally, start for home, and get there just in time -for another supper, after a lovely, long day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children were all delighted with the idea. -They often had small picnics, but never any so -extensive and grown-up as this.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And then the blackberries! Think of the -quarts and bushels they would bring home! -What visions of unlimited jam, and spiced -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>blackberries without stint, floated before their -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Papa teased the girls a little.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps I had better send Thomas and the -oxen to meet you at the bars? If they should -happen to come home rather fast, you could -have blackberry <i>jam</i> without any trouble,” he -said, laughing. Then he suggested that they -should make arrangements with some farmer to -take their extra berries into Boston to sell.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We don’t want to be swamped under blackberries, -you know,” he added. Then, of course, -the boys had their remarks to make.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ll have to take Mopsie and Charcoal, -and drive around from house to house to sell -your berries,” said Will.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bet you they won’t bring home half a pint -between them all,” said Archie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Better keep off Mr. Trante’s land, anyway. -All the best berries grow in his pasture, and -wouldn’t he like to catch you picking them!” -said Donald. “He’s been lying in wait for you -children, ever since you flooded his meadows. -Most probably he’d put you all in the lock-up, if -he caught you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This was a sore subject with Eunice and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>Cricket, and they turned the conversation by -asking mamma what cook should put up for -their luncheon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We want a lot,” said Cricket, decidedly. -“’Cause we’ll have to have our dinner, you -know, and then we must have enough left for a -nice lunch before we start for home. And have -a <i>lot</i> of supper ready, mamma, dear, ’cause we’ll -be ’most starved.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s on the principle that the more you -eat, the hungrier you get,” said Archie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For goodness’ sake, make them stop with -their supper, mother,” said Donald, “else they -will get so hungry they can’t stand it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children were deaf to all jokes, and -preparations for the important day went merrily -on. An excited group of small people -met after supper, on the Wards’ piazza, on the -night before, to “make ’rangements.” One -would have thought that they were planning at -least a trip to Europe.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We girls think we won’t go to sleep at all, -to-night,” said Eunice, with much importance. -“We always sit up till nine o’clock, anyway, -and five o’clock will come so soon that it won’t -be worth while to get undressed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>“Whatever you do,” called Donald from his -hammock, “please see that Cricket is chained in -bed till the proper time. She prefers to get up at -midnight and go downstairs on her head, you -know, when early rising is in question, and -that wakes the rest of us up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Phil’s going to wake me up,” announced -Ray. “I’m going to tie a string to my big toe, -and hang the end of the string out of the window, -and Phil will come along and yank it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Be sure you don’t go without us,” pleaded -Daisy. “I’ll have to wake myself up, and -Harry, too, for no one in our house ever gets up -so early.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll run over and wake you up, too,” said -Phil, obligingly. “I’ll throw stones up at your -window.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>They were all to meet at the bars at the -entrance of the woods, for the cart-path -through them was much shorter than the -distance around by the road.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we’re not going to have any <i>children</i>,” -finished Eunice, in the tone of unutterable -scorn that always crushed the twins, who were -eagerly listening to the “’rangements.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>When nine o’clock came, and Eunice and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>Cricket and Edna had gone upstairs, they -decided, in spite of previous resolutions, that it -might be better just to lie down for awhile, -“though it was not at all worth while to go to -sleep.” So they stretched themselves on the -beds, all dressed, to talk over the coming day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Edna,” said Cricket, presently, after a suspiciously -long silence, “my clothes are all -wriggled up, somehow, and I b’lieve I’ll take -my dress off. It won’t take long to put it on in -the morning, and I’ll be more comfortable.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I was just thinking,” agreed Edna, sleepily, -“that we’d better take off our dresses.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think,” said Eunice, when their dresses -were off, “I’ll take off my skirts, too. They -get so twisty.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>With their skirts removed they lay down -again, and began to talk with renewed zest. -Presently conversation flagged again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket,” said Edna, rousing suddenly, “I -can’t stand it, and I’m going to bed, just the -same as usual. I don’t think it’s a bit of fun -to sit up all night. Listen! What is that -striking? Only ten o’clock!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The others, by this time, were more than -willing to go to bed in ordinary fashion, and in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>ten minutes more, all three little girls were in -the Land of Nod.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It proved to be a wonderfully prompt little -party, for it was only half-past five o’clock when -they all assembled, with well-filled luncheon-baskets, -and empty pails to bring home their -blackberries in.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They were all rather heavy-eyed and quiet at -first, to be sure, but they soon grew wide-awake. -It seemed a very new world to the little girls, -who had scarcely ever been up at this hour -before, though the boys, from many a fishing -and nutting excursion, were more used to it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Doesn’t it look as if everything had been -washed?” said Cricket, skipping along delightedly. -“How the leaves rustle, and how -the birds sing! I’m going to get up every day, -after this, at five o’clock.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bet you, you won’t,” said Ray, sceptically.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’d do it for about two days, and then -you’d give it up. Girls never stick to anything.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Ray Emmons!” came in an indignant -chorus. “Girls stick as well as boys.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Seems to me that Edith Craig stuck to the -head of her jography class all last winter, and -you boys couldn’t help it,” said Daisy Pelham, -triumphantly.</p> - -<div id='ill_164' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span> -<img src='images/ill_164.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>CRICKET TRYING TO CATCH THE MINNOWS.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>“Oh, jography! I wasn’t talking about jography. -Bet you I can hit that squirrel, plump,” -thinking it better to change the subject.</p> - -<p class='c010'>When they came to the little brook, a deep -pool below a rough bridge looked so cool and -clean that they loitered to throw stones in it, -and scare the minnows gliding around in its -transparent depths. Further down, among the -bulrushes, the frogs croaked and jumped.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, I say,” cried Harry Pelham, “let’s catch -some frogs, and have frogs’ legs for lunch!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, don’t touch the slimy things,” pleaded -Daisy. “They squirm and squeak so. Do let’s -go on.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Are minnows good to eat?” asked Cricket, -who was kneeling on the bank, and looking -down into the water. “I b’lieve I could catch -them with my hand.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She rolled up her cambric sleeves, and dipped -her arm in the water. The minnows slipped -tantalizingly near. A particularly big fellow -flashed by.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, what a bouncer!” Cricket cried. She -plunged forward, and of course she lost her balance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>and went head and shoulders into the -water, in the endeavour to save herself. Phil, -who stood nearest, pulled her up, dripping.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket Ward!” exclaimed Eunice, completely -disgusted. “I never saw anything like -you. I believe you’d fall into the water if -there wasn’t a saucerful.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I b’lieve I would,” acknowledged Cricket, -meekly, rubbing her short, dripping curls with -the boys’ handkerchiefs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’re pretty wet,” said Edith. “I’m -afraid you’ve got to go home.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, no, I won’t,” said Cricket, much surprised -at this suggestion. “I’ll just go round -those bushes and wring my waist out, and I’ll -get dry pretty soon, I reckon. My skirt isn’t -very wet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You can put on my sacque, Cricket,” suggested -Daisy. “Mamma made me wear it, -and it’s awfully hot. Then you can hang -your waist over your arm to dry, so we can -go on.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>So Cricket and Daisy retired from view for a -while. When they returned the rest of the -party set up a shout. Daisy was much shorter -than Cricket, so that the sleeves scarcely came -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>below her elbow, and the bottom of the sacque -hung only an inch or so below her waist.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t care,” said Cricket, comfortably. -“It covers me up, and my waist will be dry -soon. Do let’s go on. We won’t get to the -blackberry pasture till noon. It must be pretty -nearly eleven o’clock now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Thanks to you, young woman,” answered -Harry Pelham, who was older than the rest. -“If you will waste our time falling into -brooks—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well,” said Cricket, “I always did fall into -the water, and I ’xpect I always will. I remember -sitting down in a pail of hot water once, -when I was just a teenty little bit of a thing. -My! how it hurt! I just cried and cried. At -least the water wasn’t so very hot, for the cook -was only scrubbing the floor. I had run away -down to the kitchen. But the pail was deep, -and I was so little, that I doubled together just -like a jack-knife, and the cook laughed so that -she could hardly pull me out.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children laughed, too. Harum-scarum -Cricket always had accidents that never would -happen to any one else.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And you were nearly drowned last summer,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>said Edna. “Don’t you remember up at Lake -Clear?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I never heard about that. What was it?” -asked Edith.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, nothing,” returned Cricket, who never -looked upon her adventures as interesting. -“Edna and I went out paddling in a boat. We -couldn’t find but one oar. Edna could paddle, -but I didn’t know how, but it looked so easy -that I thought I could do it. So I stood up and -took hold of the oar, and I took one paddle all -right and then I put the oar over the other side, -and somehow, I went right over myself. There -wasn’t anybody in sight, but we <i>hollered</i>, at -least Edna did, and I did when I came up; -then I went down again and when I came up I -struck the boat. It was pretty hard getting in, -and I had to climb up over the end. We had -lost the oar, so Edna pulled up the board in the -bottom of the boat and she paddled us ashore. -And that’s all, and I wasn’t drowned,” concluded -Cricket, in the most matter-of-fact way.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whew!” whistled Harry. “That was a -close call.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It was fortunate I hit the boat when I came -up,” assented Cricket, placidly, “for Edna didn’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>have any oar, and it was hard pulling up the -board to paddle with. I ’xpect I might have -been drowned, if I’d floated off, and had had to -wait for her.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>They had been trudging on through the woods -while they were talking, and now they came to -where the cart-path forked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Which way do we go?” asked Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This way,” said Rose.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, this way,” contradicted Phil, positively. -“I remember that blasted oak.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Seems to me,” began Rose, doubtfully, “that -the blasted oak that I remember was not at the -fork, but close to the edge of the woods. I -don’t think that this is the same tree. I do -remember that old beech, though,” she added, -pointing down the right-hand path, “and I think -that that is the way.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I’m sure about that blasted oak down -<i>this</i> path,” said Phil, “and I think this is the one -to take.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bet you it is!” put in Ray, supporting Phil, -on principle; “I remember it, too. Come on, -boys.” And the children trooped down the left-hand -path, while Rose, though she still looked -doubtful, followed the rest.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XVIII.<br /> <span class='large'>COMING HOME.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“I don’t know how the rest of you feel, but -I’m getting about starved,” announced Phil, -after they had gone some little distance further. -“I vote we have our grub just as soon as we get -to the berry-pasture, before we pick any berries.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This proposal was heartily approved of by the -entire party.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It must be nearly noon, I think,” said Eunice. -“We wasted a lot of time by the brook, -you know, and we’ve been walking for <i>hours</i> -since.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hark! there’s the twelve o’clock whistle -now,” exclaimed Phil. The children listened -eagerly. It certainly was the distant mill-whistle, -but it was not the noon signal, but, instead, -the one for seven o’clock in the morning.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No wonder we are hungry, then,” said Harry. -“We all had our breakfasts at five, and that’s -six hours ago.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we’re nowhere near the berry-pasture -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>yet,” said Rose, hesitating and looking around. -“We ought to have been out of the woods -long ago. Phil Howard, I <i>know</i> we took the -wrong turn there by that old oak.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The other children looked at one another in -despair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bet you we did!” cried Ray. “I kinder -thought this didn’t look right. Now we’ve got -to go back.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t let’s,” said Harry. “If we take this -path off this way, it will bring us back on to the -road, I know.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And <i>I</i> say, don’t let’s go another step till -we’ve had our grub.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Phil gave his advice decidedly, “We can’t get -to the pasture, anyway, till afternoon, and we -might as well have our lunch first.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s the brook again,” exclaimed Cricket, -catching sight of her old friend, the winding -Kayuna, which meandered in every known direction.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We can get some water there. I guess -I’ll put on my waist now. It’s ’bout dry,” she -added, as the mention of the brook brought her -mishap to her mind.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A pretty little grassy opening just there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>afforded them a fine place to sit down for their -lunch. Cricket took her pail and went up the -brook after water, and presently returned, arrayed -again in her pink cambric waist, which -was very wrinkled and streaky as to the sleeves, -and very damp and sticky as to the collar.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They spread their luncheon, a very generous -one, since it had been provided, as they had -begged, with a view to its serving two meals. -But the boys seemed to be entirely hollow.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See here, boys,” exclaimed Edith, in dismay. -“You must stop. There won’t be bread and -butter enough for supper, if you keep on, and we -must make it last. Now, Phil, you’ve had five -pieces of cake already. You shan’t have another -bit. We’ll pack the rest up now.” Edith -being the eldest of the party, and unusually -quiet and dignified for her age, her words always -carried weight. The boys reluctantly suspended -operations, and very unwillingly watched the -remainder of the lunch repacked in the baskets.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They finally decided not to go back the way -they had come, but to take a cart-path which -crossed the one they were on, and which Harry -was quite sure would bring them out on the -main road that they wished to strike.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>Their lunch had refreshed them, and they -went on, gayly chattering and laughing. A -squirrel-hunt detained them awhile, and then a -great patch of squaw-berries, as the children -called the pretty partridge-vine, attracted them. -Then they stumbled on some wintergreen, -and stopped to gather great bunches.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Goodness gracious!” exclaimed Cricket, at -last. “Boys, I believe it’s most supper-time, -and I’d like to know where that West Road’s -gone to.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s gone to Melville. That’s where it -always goes,” said Harry, smartly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Since your wits are so sharp,” laughed -Edith, “perhaps they’ll help you to decide which -of these two paths we ought to take now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Harry considered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We want to go west,” he said, “and there’s -the sun over there, so we’ll take that path. -Jove, boys! Look at that sun! it must be four -o’clock. No berries yet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The little band began to look rather discouraged.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’re like Columbus discovering America,” -observed Cricket, cheerfully. “The farther we -go, the more it isn’t there. Let’s keep straight -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>on. Papa says that the woods aren’t but two -miles across, so we will certainly get out that -way.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If once we strike that West Road,” said -Harry, “I know where to go then.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here are some blackberries!” cried Ray, who -was in advance.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They had come to another open spot, and -sure enough, there were some straggling blackberry -vines.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let’s pick these, anyway,” said Edna, “in -case we don’t find any more.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children hooted at this idea, but nevertheless, -they fell to work. The berries were -hard and dry and half-ripe, but they were—or -ought to have been—blackberries. Their fingers -flew, and the hard little berries rolled into -their tin pails with a lively clatter.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ow! ow! ow!” suddenly came in squeals -of terror from one of the girls. “Here’s a -snake! a big black snake, and he is eating a -little bird!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children rushed to the spot. There, -among some tall weeds, lay a long, slender, -whip-like object, black and shining, with raised -head. In its open mouth was a poor little, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>struggling, half-fledged bird, already partially -swallowed. Above it, the parent birds fluttered -and screamed in agony, sweeping around in -short, swift circles.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children stood, at first, in fascinated -horror. The poor little birdie slowly disappeared -in the yawning mouth, and the children -could see the muscles of the black body work, as -the whole undigested mass slipped slowly down. -Then the snake made queer, darting movements -with its head, and this broke the spell for the -frightened children. A wild stampede instantly -followed, as they fled, screaming and -shrieking. The few berries, the rest of the -lunch, the napkins and the pail-covers flew in -every direction, as the children sped wildly on, -thinking that the snake was in full pursuit. -Nor did they stop until Cricket, who, on her -swift feet, led the band, went, head over heels, -over a projecting root, and found herself sitting -on the bank of the ever-present Kayuna.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then they all brought up, panting and breathless, -and rather shamefaced.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ho! what made you girls run so?” asked -Phil, recovering himself first.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I like that! what made you run so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>yourself, Mr. Phil? I guess you were as frightened -as anybody,” said Daisy, indignantly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Fraid? I wasn’t a bit afraid. I just ran -after you girls to tell you there wasn’t any -danger, but you ran so fast, and I was tired—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, tired!” chorused the girls, scornfully. -“Seems to us you managed to keep pretty well -ahead.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Jove, boys, where do you think we are?” -exclaimed Phil, abruptly changing the subject.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’re just exactly where Cricket fell in the -brook this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And so they were. Thinking it was afternoon -they had turned in the direction of the -sun, meaning to go west. Of course they had -really gone east, since it was still morning, and -here they were, not ten minutes’ walk from home.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They stood looking at one another in perfect -silence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Our whole day wasted,” said Eunice, at -length, very soberly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It must be most supper-time, and we -haven’t any lunch left,” commented Harry, -surveying the melancholy collection of empty -pails and baskets.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m awful hungry,” sighed Phil.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>No one exactly liked to propose going home, -yet what else was there to do? It was too late, -they thought, to start out again in search of -pastures new, and yet, how could they go home -and encounter the teasing that would surely -follow the tale of the day’s experience.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If only we had <i>some</i> berries!” groaned -Rose.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That horrid old snake,” said Daisy, looking -fearfully around. “We would have had some, -anyway, excepting for his chasing us away.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket had been sitting still, where she had -tumbled. Now she got up slowly and picked up -her pail and basket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m going home,” she said, decidedly. “I -think we’ve had a very nice day, if we didn’t -get any blackberries. Papa always buys them, -anyway, of that poor little girl that brings them -down from the hills, and she needs the money.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If Cricket goes,” said Edna, jumping up with -great alacrity, “of course we must all go with -her. It must be most supper-time, anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The depressed looking group presently found -themselves at the edge of the woods.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I do declare!” exclaimed Cricket, -stopping short, “if there aren’t Thomas and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>oxen at the bars! Papa has sent him, after all. -Hollo, Thomas, did you come to meet us?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thomas stared as they approached.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wal, now, young uns, I railly thought you -were off for all day. What’s drove you home -at this time o’ the mornin’? Gin out arly, -seems to me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, no,” answered Cricket, surprised. -“It’s the time we meant to come. Did papa -send you for us?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wal, no, not ’xactly. What should yer pa -send for you now, fur? He kinder thought you -wuz a-goin’ to stay all day.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I should think we had stayed all day,” said -Harry. “Seems a week since this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wal, I rather ’low it’s mornin’ yet,” returned -Thomas, equally surprised.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Morning <i>now</i>?” came a chorus of voices. -“Why, we’ve had our dinner, and we would -have had our supper, only we lost it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Thomas went off in a loud guffaw.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ef you blessed young uns hain’t ben and -come home at ten o’clock in the mornin’!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ten!” faltered a voice or two. The rest -were speechless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To be sure. Thar comes Mr. Archie now. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>He’s ben a drivin’ the doctor over to the nine-thirty -train.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Archie reined up at the sight of the group -around the bars.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hello, you fellows!” he called. “Thought -you were off for all day. Get your pails filled -so soon? What! no berries!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children glanced shamefacedly at each -other.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket fell in the brook,” began one.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we lost our way,” said another.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we ate our dinner, and lost our supper,” -said a third.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we saw a big, black snake chewing up -a little bird—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we were all afraid and ran,” confessed -Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not afraid!” cried Phil, valiantly. “The -girls ran, Arch, and we fellows had to run after -them to tell them there wasn’t any danger. But -we lost all our supper, running,” he added hastily, -to prevent contradiction to his first statement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And then—well,” finished Eunice, in a -burst of honesty, “we thought it was supper-time, -Archie; we really did, and Thomas says it’s -only ten o’clock in the morning!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Archie shouted at this.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“So you never found the berry-pasture at all? -Haven’t you got a single berry among you all? -Well, by Jove, you are a fine set! Thought it -was supper-time at ten in the morning!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children never heard the end of this -joke.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XIX.<br /> <span class='large'>WHAT ZAIDEE AND HELEN FOUND.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Mamma had gone away for a two weeks’ visit -to grandmamma, and had taken little Kenneth -with her. Zaidee and Helen felt very lonely -without their small playfellow, for it was the -first time they had ever been separated. The -first week seemed very long. Then when nurse -began to comfort them by saying that next week -mamma and Kenneth would be at home again, -there came a letter from mamma saying that -grandmamma was not very well, and she would -stay another week besides.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The twins were quite ready to cry. “Next -week” seemed like saying “next year.” But -auntie was staying with them still, and as she -was mamma’s own sister herself, and she looked -very much like her, this was a great comfort to -the children, for they would try and “play” it -was mamma who spoke to them. But there -was no one to take little Kenneth’s place.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The twins had a favourite playground down -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>by the brook. It was just below the pool where -they had tried to drown the poor little kittens.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A great oak tree grew there, and the grass -underneath was smooth and green. The brook -was very shallow there, and there were plenty -of smooth, round stones which they could easily -get out of the water, without getting themselves -at all wet. On the green grass they played -house, marking off the rooms by these round -stones. The acorns from the oak served the -purpose of cups for their dolls, and bits of -broken china made fine dishes. They had, at -home, a beautiful, real doll’s house, with the -cunningest furniture, and plenty of “really, -truly” doll’s dishes, but they got much more -pleasure out of this make-believe house, marked -off with stones.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Since Kenneth was not at home to be looked -after, Eliza often let the twins go down to the -brook to play all by themselves. One morning, -after breakfast, they ran down there as usual. -To their great surprise they found that some one -was there before them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was a little boy, about Kenneth’s age. He -had on a linen dress and a broad-brimmed -hat. He sat on the edge of the bank, poking a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>stick into the water. Where could he have -come from? The children were sure they had -never seen him before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the twins approached, he looked up at -them with a pair of sober, wide brown eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Helen! what’s that!” cried Zaidee, in -great amazement, stopping short.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s a little boy!” exclaimed Helen, as much -excited as if she had found a crocodile. “We’ve -finded a little boy!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Zaidee ran up to Brown-Eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What is your name?” she demanded, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes answered nothing. He looked -at the little girls, gravely, and the little girls -looked at him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Haven’t you any name?” persisted Zaidee.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” answered Brown-Eyes, briefly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where do you live?” asked Helen, running -round on the other side of him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes looked all around him, into the -sky, into the water, and into the woods on the -other side of the brook. Then he said, “I’m -here.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Helen!” shrieked Zaidee, in great excitement. -“He hasn’t any name, and he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>doesn’t live anywhere but here, so he’s ours, -cause we finded him, just like the kitty we -finded, and auntie let us keep it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Zaidee was very much mixed up in her -speech, but Helen understood. She clapped her -hands with joy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now we’ve got a little boy to play with, -’stead of Kenneth. Let’s keep him to play with -till Kenneth comes home, and then there’ll be -two of him, just the same as there’s two of us.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Can it talk, do you s’pose?” asked Zaidee, -walking around Brown-Eyes, with much interest. -For, excepting his two short answers, he -had not spoken at all.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I ’xpect he can talk,” returned Helen, -“cause he’s got teeth, hasn’t he?” In her mind -the only reason that a baby can’t talk is because -it hasn’t any teeth. Brown-Eyes immediately -showed a full set.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, he has,” said Helen, triumphantly. -“He’s got some up teeth and some down -teeth. Talk, boy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes only looked at them as silently -as before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poke him,” said Zaidee. “Let’s see if he -squeals.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>She did not mean to hurt him, but she poked -him in the stomach rather harder than she -meant. Straightway Brown-Eyes’s little feet -flew out like a wind-mill, and kicked Zaidee so -vigorously that she lost her balance, and nearly -rolled into the brook.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes still said nothing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Zaidee picked herself up with added respect -for her little guest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I did not mean to hurt you,” she said, standing -at a little distance. “Do you want to play -house with us? Let’s build him a new house, -Helen. Come, boy, you get some stones.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The excitement of building the new house -soon made the children friends, and they played -together happily, though Brown-Eyes did not -grow talkative.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last the little ones grew hungry, and they -started for the house, taking their new playmate -with them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where shall we keep him?” asked Helen, -as they trudged up the lane and across the green -lawn.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’d better shut him up for awhile, till he -gets used to us,” was Zaidee’s advice. “That’s -the way we did with kitty.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>“We can put him in the laundry,” suggested -Helen. “We put kitty there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the house stood on the hillside which sloped -gently back to the brook, the kitchen and laundry -were down stairs. No one noticed the children -as they went in at the lower door. Cricket and -Eunice were off for a long scamper on their -ponies, and Donald and his cousins were away -fishing, while Marjorie had gone into town for -the day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The laundry, a large, light room, which was -on one side of the lower hall, chanced to be -deserted when they went in.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Stay here, boy,” said Helen, “and we’ll bring -you something to eat, if you’re good.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes nodded gravely. He immediately -sat himself down on the floor, with his sturdy -little feet straight out in front of him, and with -his hands folded in his lap. “I be good,” he -said, briefly. He never wasted his words.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The twins locked the laundry door and ran -across to the kitchen. They intended to ask if -Eliza had their luncheon ready for them upstairs, -and to tell her to get something for the Boy; -but cook had just taken from the oven the most -distracting cookies, all in shapes of little pigs.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>“Oh-h!” squealed the children in concert.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“An’ here’s a plateful fur yer auntie,” said -cook. “Be off wid yerself, an’ don’t come nigh -me agin till me floor’s mopped entirely.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Off scampered Zaidee and Helen with the -cookies, in great delight, and quite forgot their -little prisoner in the laundry. They found -auntie on the cool, vine-covered piazza.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What hot little girlies!” she exclaimed, putting -back the curly hair from the warm, shiny -little faces. “Eliza,” she called to the nurse, -who passed through the hall at that moment, -“take the children upstairs and wash their hands -and faces. Then come back here, little ones, and -auntie will read you a story while you cool off.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The twins went very willingly, and soon came -back, fresh and sweet. They perched themselves -on the broad arms of auntie’s chair, -munching cookies and rocking comfortably, -while auntie read to them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Suddenly a nursemaid came running up the -avenue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” she said, breathlessly. -“I’m Mrs. Bennett’s nurse, and she’s -lost Phelps. We can’t find him anywhere, and -Mrs. Bennett’s most distracted.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>The Bennetts were new people, who had lately -come for the summer, having taken a house near -by.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Is the little boy lost?” asked Mrs. Somers, -rising. “No, he has not been here. When did -you miss him?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s over two hours since anyone’s seen him, -ma’am. I was busy and thought he was with -his ma, and she thought I had him. We didn’t -miss him till about half an hour ago, and we’ve -looked everywhere about the house and grounds. -I just thought he might have run in here, -ma’am,” said the frightened maid.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He certainly has not been here!” said auntie, -“Have you seen Phelps, children?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” they both said, positively.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They hadn’t seen Phelps. They hadn’t <i>ever</i> -seen him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m so sorry,” said auntie. “Still he can’t -have gone very far. Eliza, ask Mike or Thomas -if they’ve seen the child anywhere around this -morning. Have you been to the village?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mrs. Bennett’s just gone up there, herself, -ma’am,” returned the nurse. “And the gardener -has gone the other way to look for him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Eliza came back and said that Mike had seen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>such a little fellow further down the road, near -the farm-house, earlier in the morning.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“P’raps our man has found him, then,” said the -nurse, hurrying off, while auntie sent Eliza again -to tell Mike and Thomas to join in the search.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Auntie,” broke out Zaidee, a little while -later, “I forgot to tell you that we’ve got a -little boy of our own, down stairs.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A little boy, Zaidee?” said auntie, laying -down her book. “What do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We finded him, auntie, he’s <i>ours</i>,” said Zaidee, -earnestly. “Come and see him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We finded him down by the brook, in our -play-house,” chimed in Helen. “He’s ours, -auntie. He’s awful cunning. We’re going to -keep him and feed him as we did the kitty that -we finded once, and when Kenneth comes home -they can be twins, just like us.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But, children,” exclaimed auntie, “it must -be Phelps. Where is he? Why didn’t you -speak before? You said you hadn’t seen him.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It isn’t Phelps,” insisted Zaidee. “He’s -ours. We <i>finded</i> him. He hasn’t any name, -only just Boy. He doesn’t live anywhere. He -said so. <i>Please</i> let us keep him,” she pleaded. -“Mamma let us keep the kitty.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>“You ridiculous children,” said auntie. “A -little boy isn’t like a cat. Tell me where he is, -now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He’s in the laundry, where we put the kitty. -He’s getting used to us. He’s real good, and -he doesn’t cry at all; he won’t be a bit of -trouble!” begged Helen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Auntie flew down stairs, the children following, -and protesting all the way against his being -sent off. Auntie unlocked the laundry door -hastily and looked in. There sat Master Brown-Eyes, -exactly as they had left him an hour before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Phelps are hungry,” he announced at once, -looking reproachfully at the twins.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Auntie picked up the patient baby in her arms.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You poor little soul!” she exclaimed. But -Brown-Eyes resisted strongly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Put me down,” he said, for his dignity was -much hurt.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, are you going to send him away?” asked -Helen, ready to cry. “Please let us keep him -just till Kenneth comes home, then. He’s lots -better than the kitty was.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He certainly is,” said auntie, laughing, “for -kitty would not have stayed there quietly for -so long.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>She was carrying struggling Phelps upstairs, -while the twins tagged on behind.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There’s Eliza and the men, now,” auntie -said, when, breathless, she reached the piazza. -“Run, Zaidee, and tell them that Phelps is -found. Tell Mike to go to Mrs. Bennett’s and -tell her.—There, my little man, eat some of -these cookies and stop kicking.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Phelps wriggled out of auntie’s lap, and preferred -to eat his cookies, standing on his own -two stout legs, while the twins eyed him, in deep -disappointment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Their visitor ate all the cookies there were -left, and then he suddenly said, “I are doin’ -home now,” and began to back down the steps -in his own solemn fashion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Boy!” cried Helen, reproachfully; “you -said you didn’t have any home.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes would not make any reply. He -trudged down the avenue soberly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come, twinnies,” laughed auntie, “we’ll go -and look after him and see that he doesn’t lose -himself again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Boy,” called Zaidee, “will you come and let -us find you again?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Brown-Eyes nodded, but kept on his way. At -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>the gate they saw a lady running towards them, -from the direction of the village.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I are dust comin’ home, mamma,” called -Phelps, his fat legs quickening their rate to a -run.</p> - -<p class='c010'>His mamma caught him in her arms, and this -time he was quite content to nestle in her neck.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Auntie told her how it had all happened, and, -now that the fright was over, Mrs. Bennett could -laugh at the story, and she promised that her -little boy should come and see the twins, even if -they could not keep him as their own.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XX.<br /> <span class='large'>MAMIE’S MESSAGE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The doctor’s farmer, ’Gustus John, as everyone -called him, stood at his little white gate, -looking down the road. Dr. Ward was coming -up from the village, with his hands full of letters, -and ’Gustus wanted to speak to him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I say,” he drawled, as the doctor came -within speaking distance, “I seen yer comin’, -an’ I wanted to tell you about thet new caow o’ -yourn, thet we bought over to the Fair last week. -’T ain’t no bargain, I’m thinkin’, ’n’ the critter’s -all-fired cross. Nigh on to horned me out of -the stable this mornin’. What do you say to -fattening her up for beef straight off?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just as you like,” returned the doctor, absently, -for he had some important letters in his -hand, which he had been glancing at as he -walked. “I never like to have cross animals -on the place, lest some accident might happen -with so many children about.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, thet’s another p’int. I’ve kinder been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>layin’ round for them little girls o’ yourn, to -warn ’em off. They’re proper fond of junketin, -round the barns, but I think p’raps they’d better -make themselves skurse while this critter is in -the barnyard. I hevn’t put her out with the -other caows to-day. I’ve got to go to the lower -medder this mornin’, and I hain’t got no more -time to waste now. P’raps you’ll see them?” -’Gustus had a very soft spot in his heart for the -doctor’s family, and always kept a careful lookout -for the little girls.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll tell them, though it isn’t likely that -they will turn up at the house before dinner,” -said the doctor, laughing. “They are very busy -young women, and I haven’t an idea where they -are this morning. I’ll send one of the boys in -search of them.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know where they are,” piped up Mamie, -who, as usual, was hopping around, listening -with her sharp little ears. “They’re up the -brook, by the stepping-stones. I seen ’em there -this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You kin tell ’em about it, then,” said her -father, turning to her. “Jog along over there, -an’ tell ’em that I say there’s an awful fierce -cow in the barnyard, and they better keep out -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>of there till I tell ’em it’s safe. Come, skedaddle.” -And Mamie “skedaddled.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The doctor watched her doubtfully as she disappeared -around the house. “Will she tell -them?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She’ll tell ’em fast enough,” answered -’Gustus John. “She’ll admire to.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll send one of the boys, anyway,” the doctor -said. “I don’t want to run any risks. Yes, -do as you like with the cow, if she is really so -cross. She’ll spoil the others. Fatten her for -killing, certainly. I’m sorry, for she is of good -stock.” Then the doctor went on up the hill, -reading his letters as he went. Among them he -found a note, begging him to come at once to a -house at the other side of the village, on a little -matter of business. So Mike being bidden to -harness at once, the doctor drove off, quite forgetting -the cross cow, and that he meant to -send one of the boys with a special message to -his little daughters.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie, meantime, ran across the pasture in -high spirits. How delightful to be able to tell -those big girls of something which they must -not do! She began screaming out their names -at the top of her lungs, as soon as she came in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>sight of them. The girls sat by the brook, -busily plaiting little baskets out of pliant willow -twigs.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Eunice! Cricket! my pa says you shan’t -go in our barnyard to-day, so there!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, dear me!” sighed Cricket, in deep disgust. -“If there isn’t that horrid little tag-tail -again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was not very often that Mamie ventured on -the Kayuna grounds. She had been warned off -too many times, with too many threats of terrible -things happening if she went beyond the -farm-yard bounds. This morning her errand -made her bold.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you hear?” she repeated, in her shrill -little voice. “Pa sez he won’t have you in the -barnyard any more. I don’t b’lieve he’ll let -you in the barn either, ’n’ then you can’t jump -on the hay ever again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I like that!” exclaimed Eunice, not -very elegantly it must be confessed. “As if it -wasn’t, really, <i>our</i> father’s barn.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t care. My pa kin boss it, ’n’ he’s goin’ -to,” returned Mamie, enjoying her sense of importance, -and teasingly keeping back the true reason -of the message.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“I’ll make ’em good and angry, first,” she -thought, in her usual mischievous spirit. “Pa -said you was allers a-junketin’ round. I heerd -him,” she said, aloud.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I’d like to know,” said Cricket, -angrily, “what right ’Gustus John has to say -what we shall do in those barns. They are my -papa’s, and he just hires your father to look -after the farm, Mamie Hecker. And papa says -we may play in the barns as much as we like, if -we don’t ’sturb things, and ’Gustus John says we -never ’sturb anything at all. I don’t b’lieve one -word of it. Do you, Eunice?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I don’t. But I think,” said Eunice, -very slowly and decidedly, “if you know what’s -good for yourself, Mamie, you’ll get off our -grounds, just as fast as you can travel, or else—you’ll -see!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You don’t dast spank me again,” cried Mamie, -holding up one knee, while she balanced herself -on one foot, “cause your pa told you never to -dast do that again. I ’xpect he’d whip you, if -you did.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whip me!” replied Eunice, scornfully. -“Whippings are for bad little things like you, -Mamie; you’d be better if you got a lot more of -them.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>The children never stopped to choose their -words when they talked to Mamie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Anyway,” said Mamie, changing the subject, -but with a sudden purpose of revenge for -that spanking coming into her mind, “your own -pa said just so. He and pa was a talkin’ by the -gate, an’ pa, he said, ‘wish you’d hev them -girls keep out of the barnyard, for they’re allers -a-junketin’ round.’ Them’s his very words. -An’ yer pa, he said, ‘I’ll tell ’em if I see ’em, -but like as not I won’t’; ’n’ my pa, he said, -‘Mamie, go and tell ’em straight off this minute, -that I say keep out of the barnyard;’ so I come, -’cause my pa an’ your pa, they said to, both on -’em.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For goodness sake, Mamie, go away with -your ‘pa’s,’” said Cricket, impatiently. “You -do make me so cross. I don’t believe a word of -it. ’Gustus never in his life told us to keep out -of the barn.” Long experience with Mamie -made the girls slow to believe anything she -stated for a fact.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“He said so this time, anyway,” repeated -Mamie, much enjoying the girls’ anger, as she -fired stones into the brook to make a splash. -“He said he was a-waitin’ round to warn yer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>off.” Then she thought, “I won’t tell ’em the -reason why, at all, hateful old things, ’n’ then -they’ll be sorry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It must be remembered that rude as Cricket -and Eunice now certainly were to the child, it was -only that a long time of bearing Mamie’s teasing, -provoking ways had brought them to speaking to -her as they did. They scorned to tell tales, and -the elders had no idea how tormenting Mamie -always was. “Worse than skeeters,” Cricket -said.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie knew precisely the effect that her -words would probably have. Without doubt, -the girls would go to the barns sometime that -day, and if they should get hooked—just a -little—by that cross old cow, wouldn’t they be -well paid up for spanking her that day. Of -course it wouldn’t be her fault, for she had told -them to keep away.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You’ve got to keep out of our ba-arn! -You’ve got to keep out of our ba-arn!” she repeated, -in a sing-song voice, firing a particularly -big stone into the water, having aimed it with -great care close to where Eunice was sitting. -The water splashed up, spattering her well.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You mean little thing!” Eunice cried, springing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>up in a fury. Mamie had already darted -away, and was flying across the meadows like a -little brown spider. She rolled under the fence -just as Eunice was upon her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You dassent tetch me now!” she gasped, -panting for breath. “I’m on my pa’s land.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lucky for you,” said Eunice, wrathfully. -“If you come over here again I’ll take you up -to my father, if Cricket and I have to drag you -every step of the way. Now mind!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, dear, very smart you are!” jeered Mamie, -safe on her side of the fence. “I expect you’d -like to tear me into limbs. But you’ll be sorry -if you don’t keep out of my pa’s barns,” she -added, edging off.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They’re my father’s barns, and I’ll go in -them just as much as I please,” answered Eunice, -turning away with much dignity, now that -she had driven Mamie well off the grounds.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What can she have meant by all that nonsense, -Cricket, do you think?” she said, seating -herself again. “The idea of ’Gustus John telling -us to keep out of the barns! He would as -soon think of telling us to keep out of our own -stables,” she added.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, I think she just wanted to plague us, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>and couldn’t think of anything else to say,” answered -Cricket. “Eunice, I do b’lieve we haven’t -been down to the barns this week. Let’s go by-and-by, -and jump on the hay.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right. Let’s go now,” said Eunice, -jumping up. “I feel just like it. I’m stiff sitting -still so long.” And accordingly, down -went the willow baskets, and off ran the two -little maids.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXI.<br /> <span class='large'>THE NEW COW.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The warm sunshine lay full on the great barnyard, -and the silence of a summer morning in -the country lay over everything. The farmhands -were off at work, and the wide barn-doors -stood open. The air was full of the sweet, warm -odour of drying hay.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children loved the big, rambling barn, -with its dark, dusky corners, and they would -play there by the hour. They would climb up -the steep ladders, walk fearlessly across the big -beams, and, with a wild whoop, would plunge -downward on the mass of soft, sweet-smelling -hay beneath.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket had learned to achieve a somersault -while in mid-air, and was very proud of this accomplishment. -Then such places for hide-and-seek, -when they could coax the boys to join them, -did the dim corners afford! Such a famous -place it was in which to play “Indians,” for they -could barricade themselves behind mounds of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>hay, and fire a scattering shot of grain at the -enemy who besieged them. The front doors of -the barn were level with the lane, but behind it, -where the barnyard was, the ground fell sharply, -so that the same floor was a second story, beneath -which the cow-stables lay. At the back -of the barn, opposite the front door, was another -wide door, opening on the cowyard, ten feet below, -so that a wagon backed up there could -easily be loaded from above.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Fortunately, ’Gustus John was good-nature -itself, and “admired to hev the children enjoy -themselves,” as he often said. In all their -capers, he had never been known to say anything -stronger than, “Wal, I do vum! I never -see sech goin’s-on.” It was for this reason that -Eunice and Cricket did not in the least believe -Mamie when she said that her father had sent -her to tell them not to go into the barnyard -that day. If the child had told them the reason -why, they would not have thought of going, -for, with all their faults, they were rarely directly -disobedient. They were too well-trained for -that. Dr. Ward believed in letting the children -run wild all summer, while they were in the -country, and there were but two things he was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>severe with: disobedience and the want of -truth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As the girls came up, the barnyard was quite -deserted except for one peaceful-looking cow -who stood quietly chewing her cud in a shady -corner. A few stray hens and chickens clucked -and scratched in the straw. Not another sound -was to be heard. Even Mamie was not in -sight.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I wonder where that bad little thing is?” -said Cricket, looking around, and half expecting -a shower of pebbles, by way of greeting.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Expect she’s gone to mourn for her sins,” -said Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That will take her some time,” laughed -Cricket, “and so we’ll have a little peace. -Isn’t that the new cow ’Gustus John bought -last week at the Fair? I wonder why it isn’t -in the pasture with the rest.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t know. Oh, Cricket, what lovely -boards!” exclaimed Eunice. “I suppose ’Gustus -has them for his new hen-house. Let’s take -one of them and see-saw.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, goody, let’s!” and the little girls soon -had one of the long new boards down from the -pile. See-saw was an old amusement, and their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>favourite place to balance the board was across -one of the open spaces in the barnyard fence. -One little girl would go inside the yard and the -other would stay outside.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See how funny that cow stands?” said -Cricket, as she unfastened the gate and went -into the barnyard, in order to pull the board -through as Eunice pushed it from the other side.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The cow stood with her head lowered and her -tail moving restlessly, watching the children’s -movements. Cricket, however, too used to cows -to fear them, did not notice her further, and drew -the board to the right position to balance. Then -with much squealing and laughing—little-girl -fashion—the two seated themselves, and the -fun began.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See-saw! see-saw! here we go up and down,” -sang the children gayly, as Cricket’s head rose -above the fence and Eunice went down. They -did not see Mamie peeping at them from the -barn-door that opened above the cowyard, and -they rather wondered at her unusual absence.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s just lovely to have that Mamie out of -the way,” remarked Cricket, as she went up -again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Too good to last,” returned Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>At this moment a scream came from the barn-door -above them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Cricket, look out for the new cow!” -but too late came Mamie’s warning. The new -cow, frantic at the strange sight of a bright-coloured -spot moving up and down before her -very eyes, with a rush bolted across the yard -and caught the descending board right on her -horns. The next second Cricket was spinning -through the air and came down against Eunice -with a force that stunned them both.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A sudden peal of impish laughter rang out -from the barn, changing almost instantly to a -shrill cry of terror. Mamie, hopping about, as -usual, on one foot, had lost her balance, and -plunged downward, head-foremost.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The shrill cries still continued when Cricket, -a few moments after, sat up slowly and looked -around her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, what in the world—” she began, -pushing back her curly mop with both hands, in -the greatest bewilderment,—then she looked -down at Eunice, who lay white and unconscious -on the ground. The back of her head had -struck sharply against a stone, for she had -caught the full force of Cricket’s fall. The -latter, consequently, had escaped being seriously -hurt.</p> -<div id='ill_208' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span> -<img src='images/ill_208.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>CRICKET FINDS EUNICE UNCONSCIOUS.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>“Eunice!” cried Cricket, wild with terror, -“speak to me! What’s the matter, Eunice?” -and she tried to lift her sister in her arms. She -had never seen unconsciousness before, and for -one terrible moment she thought that she was -dead. Eunice, at the movement, opened her -eyes and tried to speak.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Meanwhile Mamie’s cries were ringing out,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ow! ow! Cricket, come take me off! she’s -a-hooking my feet!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>As Eunice stirred, Cricket turned, and even -in her terror and excitement she laughed at the -sight she saw. Mamie had lost her balance and -plunged forward, but as she went over the sill, -her stout gingham frock caught on a projecting -nail a few inches down, and there she still hung, -arms waving and legs wildly kicking, and sending -out shriek after shriek. Below, the ugly -cow was lowering her head and striking at the -dangling feet, every now and then hitting them. -“Pull me up, Cricket!” Mamie screamed, nearly -in convulsions of terror, her struggling making -the matter still worse.</p> - -<p class='c010'>As Cricket rose unsteadily to her feet, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>saw the situation, the whole thing flashed into -her quick brain. Mamie had been sent to tell -them to keep out of the barnyard, because the -new cow was ugly, and she had purposely given -only half the message. And here was Eunice -half-killed as a result. Of her own bruises she -never thought.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t care!” she screamed, passionately, -in answer to Mamie’s shrieks. “I don’t care if -you’re all hooked up! You’ve killed my -Eunice, and I hope you are satisfied,” and she -knelt by her sister again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll never be bad any more,” shrieked -Mamie, at the top of her lungs. “Help—me—up,—Cricket.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t care,” repeated Cricket, angrily, but -really scarcely knowing whether to run for help, -or stay with Eunice, or help Mamie. “That -hateful, hateful little thing! Serves her right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>But in a moment Cricket’s better self came -to the front, at Mamie’s last piercing cry,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Ow! ow! she’s hurt my foot awful!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket sprang up and ran around to the -barn-door. Her knee was cut and bleeding, -but she did not heed it. She darted across the -barn floor to the door at the back. It was not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>an easy matter to decide what she was to do, -for Mamie, though she was slight and small, -would be a dead weight on her as she pulled her -up, and then also, she suddenly discovered that -her left shoulder was strained and sore. But -there was no time to hesitate, for Mamie’s -position was dangerous as well as absurd. -Her struggles might release her dress at any -moment, and those angry horns and hoofs were -waiting below.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket grasped a stout, wooden staple at the -side of the door-frame with her right hand, -and, bending far over, she slipped her left arm -around Mamie’s waist. Mamie clutched her -instantly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Stop wiggling,” said Cricket, sharply. It -was no small task for her, with her strained -arm, to bring Mamie up even those ten inches, -but with a desperate effort she drew her up to a -sitting position on the door-sill, so the child -could scramble in herself. For one second she -felt as if her arm was being dragged out of her -body, and only long practice in swinging off -limbs of trees, and drawing herself up again, -had made her muscles equal to the strain.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie climbed in, and then stood perfectly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>still, for once, with nothing to say, looking at -Cricket out of the tail of her eye. If Cricket -had fallen on her and thrashed her soundly, she -would have taken it without a murmur. But -Cricket, of course, had no such idea. She -stood for a moment, looking at her small enemy -in silence, and then raced out of the barn, back -to her beloved Eunice. She found her sitting -up and looking very dazed and white. She had -not the least idea what had happened to them, -and was too confused to ask.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you feel as if you could walk home?” -asked Cricket, putting her arm very tenderly -around her; “or will you stay here while I go -for Mike to bring you home in the carriage? Or -do you want to go into the farm-house, and get -’Manda to give you something?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think—I’ll—go home,” said Eunice, her -nerves decidedly shaken, and her head still -dizzy from the effects of the blow. “I’ll—try—to walk.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket helped her up, and put her arm about -her to steady her.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXII.<br /> <span class='large'>MAMIE’S REPENTANCE.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Mamie went sneaking past them to the house -and went into the kitchen where her mother was -at work.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, ma!” she cried. “The girls has been -in the barnyard where that cross cow is, ’n’ -Cricket got knocked over the fence, and Eunice -is most killed I guess, ’n’ I don’t b’lieve she kin -walk home.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Got hooked! Law ful suz! You don’t say -so!” and ’Manda hurriedly wiped her hands -and ran out to the lane. The barn was not far -from the house, but the kitchen was on the -further side, so she had not noticed the children’s -screams.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She ran to meet the girls and caught Eunice -up in her strong arms. “You poor little dear,” -she exclaimed. “I’ll carry you right along -myself. Here, Cricket, you hang on to me too;” -for Cricket was limping by this time, with her -knee aching more every minute.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>’Manda was very comforting, for she was too -used to the children’s mishaps even to ask how -things had happened. “Come in and rest a -spell,” she coaxed, “and let me put some hot -water on your head, poor dear.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want to go home,” repeated Eunice, still -half-crying.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, so you shall, an’ I’ll carry you right -up there, myself. ’Course yer ma’s yer best -friend when you’re hurt. Hi! there goes the -doctor now! Hi! Hi!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dr. Ward, returning from his call, drew up -his horse as he crossed the little bridge at the -sound of the cry.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Suthin’ happened, just the same as usual, -doctor,” ’Manda said, as the party came up, -with Mamie well in the rear.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The doctor sprang out of his buggy, looking -rather anxious. There were certainly drawbacks -to having a pair of romps for daughters.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He hastily took Eunice in his arms.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What is the matter, dear. Did you fall?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not—not exactly,” said Eunice. “I don’t -know exactly what happened, but somehow -Cricket flew over the fence, and fell on top of -me, and—and I think my head knocked into a -stone, and my back hurts too.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>“Flew over the fence? What do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That old cow hooked me over,” flashed out -Cricket. “We were see-sawing, just peaceably, -and the old thing came up behind me and boosted -me right over the fence, and ’course I fell on -Eunice pretty hard, and we got all mixed up -with the end of the boards and some stones. -Eunice is more hurt than I am, though.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The <i>cow</i>,” said the doctor, looking suddenly -stern. “Did you go into the barnyard?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, sir, we always do, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Didn’t you get my message?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes—but—well, I didn’t really believe -Mamie, ’cause she didn’t say why,” burst out -Cricket, after a moment’s hesitation. “And we -always go in the barns whenever we wish, and -’Gustus John never says a word. And oh, dear! -I do feel as if the socket was pulled out of my -arm.” And Cricket, between excitement and -pain, burst out crying.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Her father had gathered enough from her -story to feel sure that there had been no real -disobedience, and seeing the children’s nervousness -and pain, he put them both into the buggy, -and as speedily as possible gave them over into -the care of mamma and nurse.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>It was several days before Eunice was herself -again, for she had really had a hard blow both -on the back and head, and for two days she was -actually willing to remain in bed. She really -very seldom met with accidents, for she was not -by nature nearly so much of a romp as her -younger sister, and was far less rash and heedless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket was as chirpy as ever the next day. -Her knee was bound up and she hobbled about, -rather enjoying the attention she received. Her -left arm was somewhat stiff and lame, for she -had hit her left side with considerable force as -she landed, although her striking Eunice had -somewhat broken her fall.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The whole story had come out, and, as usual, -Cricket had to undergo a fire of teasing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A girl with the sockets pulled out of her -arms ought to go to the Dime Museum,” laughed -papa, as they all sat on the piazza that evening -after supper. “She’s a natural curiosity.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If I’m a natural curiosity, then I wish I -were an unnatural one. I don’t think I’m nice -a bit,” said Cricket, candidly. “Things never -happen to Eunice and Hilda, if I’m not along. -Just think, if I hadn’t hit Eunice she wouldn’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>have been hurt a bit,” for Cricket took her sister’s -injuries very much to heart.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You always have such romantic accidents,” -teased Donald. “Think how thrilling it is to be -run away with by a raging span of oxen, and -fancy the excitement of being tossed by the cow -with a crumpled horn!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I really should think you wouldn’t care to -look a piece of beef in the face,” laughed Will.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Plant Cricket and what would she come up,” -asked Archie, and Cricket herself answered, -quickly,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cow-slip. That’s good. Ask another one.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Can’t; you’re too bright.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’d have given a sixpence to see Mamie -Hecker dangling on that hook,” said Will. -“Little imp!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It wasn’t very funny to fish her up,” said -Cricket, seriously, “for it <i>did</i> pull the sockets out -of my arm. Why isn’t that right to say, papa!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Because your arms are put in the sockets, my -dear, not the sockets in your arms.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh! well, I hope it will teach Mamie a lesson; -and the next time she has a message to give, I -hope she’ll give it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What do you think!” exclaimed Marjorie. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>“Here’s Mamie Hecker coming up the avenue -now.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Sure enough, there was Mamie in her stiffly-starched -best white dress, and her Sunday hat -on her head, coming very slowly up towards the -house. This was very unusual, for Mamie knew -her bounds. The family watched her with interest -to see what she meant to do.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket slipped hastily behind mamma. “I -don’t want to see her,” she said, impatiently.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamie came awkwardly to the foot of the -steps.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Is Cricket here?” she asked, with a very -unusual shyness in her manner, which was -partly due to the fact that she had on her best -clothes on a week-day.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket came unwillingly forward in obedience -to mamma’s touch.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want to speak to you,” Mamie said, still -shyly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket came slowly down the steps, half expecting -some trick, since she knew Mamie’s ways -so well. But the child was in earnest this -time. She stood uneasily, first on one foot and -then on the other, not quite knowing how to say -what she wanted to.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>“See here,” she burst out, at length. “I’ve -brought you those,” holding out a brown paper -bag. “Ma said I might. I bought ’em with -the five cents that the minister give me. An’—an’—I’m -awful sorry I didn’t tell you ’bout the -cow right straight off,—an’—I’m not goin’ to -tag you any more.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket took the bag that the child held -toward her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, Mamie, you shouldn’t have spent your -five cents for me,” began Cricket, shy in her -turn, and hardly knowing what to say. “But -it’s very good of you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I told my ma ’n’ pa ’bout my not telling -you, and they was awful took back. Pa said -you might have been killed. An’ then you -went and pulled me up with that lame arm -of yourn,” Mamie went on, in a lower tone, -putting out one finger to touch Cricket’s left -arm, of which the fingers were still a little stiff -and swollen. “I ain’t forgot that. I’m a-goin’ -to be gooder all the time, now,” and here Mamie, -quite overcome by her feelings, gave the brown -paper bag in Cricket’s hand, a final pat, and, -turning around, scampered away to the gates as -fast as her feet could carry her.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“Well, I say!” Donald exclaimed, as Cricket, -still looking very much amazed, came up the -steps. “I should call that a case of clear repentance. -Real article.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ve hopes of Mamie, now,” said Marjorie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That certainly is very touching,” said -mamma, gently.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket, you fished to some purpose when -you brought up Mamie from the depths,” added -Will.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whatever has she brought as a peace-offering?” -asked Archie, curiously.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket opened the bag and displayed five -chocolate mice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If they were only cows, now,” shouted Will.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIII.<br /> <span class='large'>WHEN MAMMA WAS A LITTLE GIRL.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The next morning rather dragged. Eunice -was up and about again, though she looked a -trifle pale, and did not feel in the mood even -for a drive. Cricket went out for a short time -with Mopsie, and took the twins with her, but -she soon came back, finding that the motion -of the pony-cart made her arm ache.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma and auntie were sitting on the piazza -under the vines, with their embroidery, and -Cricket found Eunice there, also, comfortably -settled in the broad Mexican hammock.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come here, Cricket,” Eunice called, “for -mamma is going to tell us stories.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Goody!” cried Cricket, skipping up joyfully, -in spite of her stiff knee.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Was there ever a child to whom mamma’s -stories were not a mine of delight?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Curl up in the other hammock, pet,” said -mamma, “and rest while we talk. You don’t -look like my Cricket, yet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>Cricket stopped to give mamma one of her -bear-squeezes,—for she looked so cool and -sweet and pretty to her little girl, as she sat in -her low chair,—and then she climbed into another -hammock, and settled herself comfortably -to listen.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What shall I tell you about?” asked -mamma, ready to begin. “I think I’ve told -you every single thing I ever did, when I was a -little girl.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tell us <i>anything</i>,” said the children, in -chorus. “Never mind if you have told it -before.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let me see. Did I ever tell you about my -first lie? Indeed, my only one, for that matter.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, mamma!” cried Cricket, in great -surprise. “Did you ever tell a story? I didn’t -know that little girls ever used to do that. I -thought they were all so good.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This happened when I was a very little girl, -dear. Do you remember,” mamma asked auntie, -“that little lilac print dress I had when I was -about five years old? It was such a pretty little -dress.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I remember the dress very well, and what -happened the first time you wore it,” laughed -auntie.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>“Yes, that’s the time I mean. Well, children, -I had on this little new dress, of which I -was very proud. It was an afternoon in early -spring, and it was the first cambric dress that I -had had on that season, so I felt particularly -fine in it. Auntie Jean and I ran out to play. -You remember, don’t you, children, how the -house and barns at your grandfather’s are, and -how steep the little hill back of the barn is? It -was all green and grassy, and we loved to play -there. Jean’s new dress was not quite finished, -so she had on her regular little afternoon frock, -and I felt prouder than ever of mine. I plumed -myself so much, that finally Jean wouldn’t play -with me. I know I made myself very disagreeable,” -added mamma, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There were barrels and boxes back of the -barn, where we used to play house. I got up on -one of the boxes, after a time, when Jean left -me to myself, and I began jumping off it. Jean -was arranging the play-house near by. The -hill, with its short, green grass, looked very inviting -to me, and presently I called to Jean, ‘I -dare jump off this box, and roll right down the -hill over and over.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘I wouldn’t,’ Jean said, very pleasantly, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>‘you might spoil your new dress.’ She really -meant to advise me not to do it, but I thought -that she meant that I was afraid of my new -frock.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Yes, I dare, too, and I will,’ I said, and off -I jumped and rolled sideways down the hill, -over and over. It had rained in the night, and, -though the hill was dry, the water had collected -in a little hollow at the foot, which I did not -notice on account of the grass. Through this I -rolled, splash.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just like me,” remarked Cricket, with much -interest. “Eunice says I’d tumble into the -water, if there wasn’t a saucerful around.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, very much like you,” returned mamma, -smiling. “When I got up, my pretty little lilac -frock, of course, was all draggled and stained.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What an object you looked!” laughed -auntie, “and how angry you were!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” said mamma, laughing, also. “That -was the funny part of it. I was so angry, but -I’m sure I don’t know who with. I felt that -<i>somebody</i> was very much to blame, but I wasn’t -at all willing to say that that somebody was my -naughty little self. I got up, and looked down -at my dress. Then I called out angrily, ‘See -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>what you’ve done, Jean Maxwell,’ as I stood at -the foot of the hill. Jean looked at me as I -came climbing up, scolding all the way, and -then she burst out laughing. I suppose I was a -very funny object, but I didn’t feel funny at -all.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It was funny enough to hear you scold, and -that was principally what I was laughing at,” -said auntie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I dare say,” answered mamma. “By the -time I reached the top of the hill I was in a -great rage. I used to get into rages very easily, -then.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<i>You</i>, mamma?” Eunice looked as if she -could scarcely believe it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, my dear, I wasn’t always a good little -girl in those days. ‘I’m going to tell mother -what a naughty girl you are, Jean,’ I half-sobbed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘What a naughty girl <i>I</i> am? You’d better -tell her what a naughty girl you are yourself, -rolling down hill, and getting your dress all -dirty,’ Jean said, getting angry in her turn. -Then she went on with her play-house and -wouldn’t speak to me any more. I ran crying -towards the house. Before I got there, I had -quite made up my mind that it was certainly all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>Jean’s fault, somehow, and that if it hadn’t -been for what she said, I shouldn’t have rolled -down the hill in the first place, and so I -shouldn’t have spoiled my new dress.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I burst into the sitting-room, where your -grandmother sat sewing. You know what a -lovely old lady grandma is now, children, with -her white puffs and dark eyes, and she was just -as lovely then, when her hair was black. She -looked up, as I rushed in panting.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Gently, gently, little daughter,’ she said. -‘What <i>has</i> happened to your new frock, my -dear? oh, what a sight you are!’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now I knew very well that grandma -wouldn’t have punished me for spoiling the -dress, for after all, it was an accident. I had -often rolled down that hill before, and no harm -had come of it. So I don’t, in the least, know -what made me say it, excepting that I was so -angry, but almost before I realized it, I was -saying very fast, ‘mother, Jean was angry -because I had on my new frock and she hadn’t, -and so, when I was just standing on a box, suddenly -she came behind me, and pushed me -over as hard as she could, and I rolled down -the hill, and rolled right through some water, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>and so I’ve spoiled my new dress.’ I was so -excited that it never occurred to mother that I -was not speaking the truth. I was so little—only -five years old,—and I had never told her -a lie before.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Why! why!’ she exclaimed, laying down -her work, and getting up. ‘I am surprised -that Jean should do that. Come upstairs with -me, and I will change your dress.’ That was -all she said to me then, for mother never -scolded at one child for what another one did, -as I have heard some mothers do, and of course -she thought this was Jean’s fault. So she took -me upstairs to the big nursery and took off -my dress.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, ‘that your pretty -little dress is spoiled. Now, it will have to go -straight to the wash, and it won’t look so pretty -again.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘That naughty Jean!’ I ventured to say, -growing bolder.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Hush, my dear,’ said grandma, ‘I will talk -to Jean. I dare say she did not mean to push -you so hard.’”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I should think, mamma,” broke in -Eunice, “that you would have thought that Jean -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>would come in any minute, and say she hadn’t -done it at all.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Of course, I was a very silly little girl not -to think of that,” answered mamma, “but it -shows that I wasn’t used to deceiving. I never -thought of the consequences. Somehow, too, by -that time, I felt quite certain that I was telling -the exact truth, and I entirely forgot that Jean -would soon be in to say she hadn’t touched me.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, only a few minutes after that, Jean -came into the house, and ran quickly upstairs -to the nursery. I was still running around in -my little white petticoat and under-waist, while -mother went to the clothes-press, to get a dress -for me. You know that big carved wardrobe -that still stands by grandma’s door in the hall? -The one your grandpa brought home in one of -his voyages? Well, it was that very one. -Grandma came back, as Jean came in singing. -She looked so entirely unconcerned that I think -mother was surprised.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Jean,’ she said, coming in and holding out -her hand to her, ‘how could you do such a -naughty thing as to push your little sister so -hard that she fell off the box, and rolled down -the hill?’</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>“I can see your look of surprise now, Jean,” -said mamma, turning to auntie, “as you stopped -short and said, ‘Pushed her off the box? why, -I didn’t! she jumped off herself.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Grandma looked from one to the other of us.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘What is this?’ she said. ‘One or the -other of you is telling me what isn’t true.’ I -shall never forget her look of grieved surprise. -It must have been difficult for her to decide -which was the guilty one, at first, for I felt that -I must stick to what I had said. All my anger -came back, and I jumped up and down, screaming, -‘you pushed me off, Jean Maxwell! you -pushed me off.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Mother, I <i>didn’t</i>!’ Jean said. ‘Please -believe me, for you know I wouldn’t do such a -thing.’ Really, it would have been much more -like me, for I had a quick temper, and I was -always losing it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Margaret,’ said mother, taking hold of my -hands, ‘stand still and tell me the exact truth. -Did Jean push you off the box, or did you -jump?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Jean pushed,’ I began, but I could not look -into mother’s eyes, and tell her a lie again. -‘Anyhow,’ I said, half-crying, ‘she wanted to -push me!’</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>“‘Tell me the truth, Margaret,’ mother said. -‘Did Jean touch you at all?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘No,’ I said, unwillingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Did she even say she was going to?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘No!’ I cried, ‘for she would not speak to -me.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘Then why did you say that she wanted to -push you off? Did she ever do such a thing?’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘No, never!’ I admitted, and then I began to -feel very much ashamed of myself, for my anger -never lasted long.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then mother said, ‘Very well, Jean, I quite -understand the matter now.’ Then she sent her -away, and talked to me for a long time. She -questioned me closely, and learned that I was -the only one to blame. She made me understand -what a dreadful thing it was to tell even a -little lie, and how telling little ones would lead -to a habit, so that one might say what was not -true in very important matters. Altogether, I -was very repentant, and promised never to tell -another lie about anything, and I believe I never -did. The soap and water helped me remember -it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What was the soap and water?” asked -Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>“Why, my mother said, when she had finished -talking to me, that she couldn’t kiss the little -mouth that had let such a dreadful thing as a -lie come through it, till it was all clean again,—and -the only way to clean it was to wash it out. -So she really did wash my mouth out thoroughly -with Castile soap and water, and all the time -she made me feel that it was not so much for a -punishment, as really to make my mouth clean -after the lie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Grandma seldom punished us, but somehow -we always felt the consequences of our naughty -deeds. And as I said, I think I never told -another story.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIV.<br /> <span class='large'>MAMMA’S BANK.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>“How funny it is to think of your telling a -lie!” exclaimed Cricket. “I never heard about -that before. Tell us another one.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do you remember, Margaret,” asked auntie -of mamma, “how we put our money in the -bank?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Indeed, I do,” laughed mamma. “What -disappointed children we were!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What was that?” the children asked, -eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It isn’t much of a story, I think, only it was -funny. I was about six and Jean was eight, -weren’t we? Some friend of my mother’s came -to visit her for a few days, and brought her little -daughter with her. Do you remember that little -Cecilia, Jean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I should think I did! I remember her distinctly, -although we never saw her again. She -was such a prim little thing, with long, light -curls—such cork-screw curls! She wore a silk -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>dress, and didn’t like to do anything but sit in -the parlour and keep herself trim.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But we children admired her immensely,” -said mamma. “We thought that her name was -beautiful—Cecilia. She said her mother found -it in a book. We loved to race about and romp -as much as you children do, but she didn’t know -how to play anything. She was a little older -than we were, and would tell us long stories -about her home. One thing impressed us especially. -She asked us if we had any money in -the bank, and we said, ‘None at all,’ in much -surprise at the question.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“‘I have three hundred dollars in the bank,’ -she said, proudly, ‘and my father’s going to -leave it there till I’m twenty-one, and put in -one hundred more every year. It will grow to -be a lot of money when I’m a young lady. Then -I’m going to buy wedding clothes with it.’</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This was entirely new talk to Jean and me. -We had heard of banks, of course, but we had -never really thought what they were. Cecilia’s -words puzzled us, for awhile, although we did -not ask her any questions further about it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The word ‘bank’ only meant to us a literal -bank,—a sand-bank. Do you remember, children, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>those long sand-banks back of the shore, -on the other side of grandpa’s orchard? They -are just within his fence, you know. Well, we -thought that Cecilia surely meant just such a -place as that. After she was gone we talked -the matter over very seriously. Cecilia’s money -seemed like untold wealth to us, and of course -we would have nothing like that to start with, -but we decided that we would take what we had -and put it in the bank.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We opened our chamois bags to count our -money. We used to put in them any pennies -that remained of our weekly five cents, and extra -bits that would come in our way. Putting this -in the bank meant, to us, digging a hole in the -sand-bank, and burying the money in it. Then -in some strange way, which we didn’t at all understand, -the money would ‘grow,’ as Cecilia -said, and by-and-by we would have a great deal -more. I think we thought of its growing as -the roots of a tree grow. Do you remember, -Jean, how grand we felt, emptying our chamois-skin -bags, and counting our pennies?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Indeed, yes,” said auntie. “It was getting -near the County Fair time, to which we were -always taken, and for which we had been saving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>our pennies eagerly. There seemed such a lot -of them.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How many and shining they looked!” went -on mamma. “We took our bags, one day, and -a little shovel, and started out. We did not -tell grandma, because we thought that we would -like to surprise her some day with a big pile of -gold dollars, which, for some reason, we had -made up our minds would be our crop. How -earnest and sincere we were!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We certainly were,” said auntie, smiling. -“I wish I could remember just how I thought -that the money would ‘grow’ in the bank, but I -am not sure whether I thought it would spring -up like a plant, and we would pick the dollars, -or whether we thought it would just spread in -the ground. Mother often used to say to us, -when we wanted something that was very absurd, -‘I’ll buy it for you when I can pick gold -dollars off the rosebush.’ Perhaps that gave us -the idea.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then mamma took up the story again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We travelled off with our money-bags, and -when we got to the sand-banks, we selected a -nice, smooth place, and dug a deep hole. Then -we laid our chamois-skin bags carefully in. Oh, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>I believe we wrapped them in newspaper first, -didn’t we? We covered them all up evenly, -and stuck two sticks down to mark the place, -and then, feeling very rich, we trotted home.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For a week after this we made a trip down -there every day, in great excitement, and every -day we came slowly back, much disappointed -that there were no signs of growth. Once we -dug down and uncovered our bags, to see if they -had struck roots yet, but we were much discouraged -to find them only mouldy and damp, -but still whole. Not a root had struck out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then Jean suddenly remembered that Cecilia -had said that when she grew to be a <i>lady</i> that -there would be a lot of money, so perhaps we -would have to wait just as long, and let our bags -lie there till then. This thought was a greater -disappointment, for we had expected to surprise -the family with our crop of gold dollars when -your grandfather came home from his next -voyage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“By-and-by, of course, other things came up, -and the bank was rather forgotten, till one day -grandma said that the County Fair was to be -held in a few days, and we would go, as usual. -Then we looked at each other in dismay, for we -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>had buried all our money. We had expected at -first, you know, to reap our crop long before this -important day, and here we were with a very -small number of pennies, and no sign of any -money sprouting yet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Grandma noticed our dismayed faces and at -once asked us what was the matter; so we told -her the whole story. How she laughed! but -she explained to us very carefully what a bank -really is, and how money does ‘grow’ or increase -in a savings bank. Then she told us to -run down and dig up our bags before they were -entirely spoiled.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Did you get them?” asked Cricket, eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That is the sad part of my story, dear. Two -very downcast children, we went down to the -sand-bank, and what do you think?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Had it all been taken away?” asked the -children, breathlessly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, but it might as well have been, for do -you know, we couldn’t find it. Heavy rains had -come, and had washed away our sticks. We -ran up and down the sand-bank, which extends -a long distance, you know, but we could not find -the spot anywhere. We dug here and there, -for we could not believe that we would not find -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>our money, but all in vain. At last we came, -crying, back to grandma, and she comforted us, as -usual. She told us that little girls usually got -into trouble when they did things without asking -their mammas, but that next time we would -both be wiser, and ask her advice first. Then -she asked us how much money we had buried, -and two days after, on the very morning when -we were to start for the Fair, we found by our -pillows, when we woke up, two pretty, new -chamois-skin bags, with the same amount of -money, all in bright new nickels, which grandma -had taken the trouble to get for us.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For months afterwards, we used to go down -at intervals, and dig for those bags, till I think -we must have pretty nearly spaded up the entire -bank. But, at any rate, we did not strike just -the right spot, and we never saw those bags -again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Are they there now,” demanded Cricket, sitting -up suddenly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For all I know. Much of the sand-bank on -the other side has been carted away for building -purposes, but this side, I believe, has never been -disturbed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Won’t I dig for it, next time I go to grandma’s!” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>cried Cricket. “How much was there -in them?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I think about three dollars altogether, -wasn’t there, Jean? What heart-broken children -we were, weren’t we, when we first realized -that we couldn’t find the place!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Indeed we were. That was my first and last -speculation,” laughed auntie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Isn’t it funny,” said Cricket to Eunice, “to -think that mamma and auntie were ever such -little geese!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXV.<br /> <span class='large'>GOING BACK TO TOWN.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Leaving dear old Kayuna and going back to -town was always a time of mourning with the -Ward family. They had occasionally lived out -there through the whole year, but it was not -very convenient for the grown-up members of -the family, and there were no good schools for -the older ones.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The first of October was the usual time for -the flitting. For a week before there was a -great flying around among the small fry, who -had to put away any of their own possessions -which were not taken with them into town, for -mamma insisted on their being left in perfect -order. All other things must be collected in -the nursery to be packed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>These things were always getting hopelessly -mixed up, and some treasured article was always -being rescued from the packed-away things. -Cricket and Eunice had a small trunk which -they were allowed to pack all by themselves, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>with their own books and treasures, and I -should be afraid to mention the number of times -that this trunk was packed and unpacked.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then there were all the animals on the place -to see for a final good-by. Dear little Mopsie -and Charcoal had to have extra feeds of apples -and sugar, to make up for the long time -before they would see their little mistresses -again. Mike had to be charged, over and over, -not to neglect to give them enough exercise, -and always to let the dogs go, too. Grinning -Mike finally said that he believed “Miss Scriket -thought he didn’t know a horse whin he met -wan in the road,” since she gave him so many -instructions.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then the children must race down to the -barns, at the farm-house, and take a last jump on -the heaps of soft, dry hay. They must find -some eggs to take to the store for a final exchange -for candy. They must visit all their -favourite haunts by the dear little brook, and say -good-by to the dear old woods, now gay in their -fall dress of scarlet and gold.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda had already begun school, and could be -with them very little now, but she was broken-hearted, -as usual, at the thought of losing her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>little playfellow. She and Edith Craig spent -all their spare minutes with the girls, and -planned eagerly for the coming year. Mamma -had last year invited both Hilda and Edith to -spend the Christmas holidays in town with her -little daughters, and you can imagine what fine -times they had there, although it proved very -different from being together in the country. -Sometime I may tell you about one of these -visits to town.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last everything was ready for the departure. -The furniture was all done up in linen -covers, and mattings and rugs were taken up -and put away. The children would race up and -down the great echoing halls and rooms in high -glee, enjoying the commotion of the last day. -Mamma was not strong enough to bear all this -confusion, and she went back in town a few -days earlier, to see that everything was ready -and comfortable in their town house. The servant -whom they left there through the summer -had the house open and in order, so mamma and -Kenneth, whom she took with her, had a few -days of rest and quiet all by themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The house at Kayuna was shut up through -the winter, though the farmer’s wife came up -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>once a week to go over it and see that everything -was all right.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last came the day of departure. Since -the village was within easy driving distance of -the city—twelve miles—Mike always loaded -up the trunks on a big cart, and drove them all -in town, himself, while the family went in by -train. This year there was a little change in -their going.</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Gustus John, who often drove to town, found -that it was necessary for him to go that very -day, and ’Manda wanted to go also, for her fall -shopping. In view of this,—though he had -much difficulty in getting his courage up to ask -such a favour,—he begged Dr. Ward that he -might have the “pleasure and honour” of driving -Miss Eunice and Miss Cricket in town with -them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The doctor hesitated, but Cricket and Eunice, -hearing of the plan, begged so hard for permission -that their father finally consented.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The start had to be an early one, in order -that the farmer and his wife should get in town -to do their errands, for they had to be at home -by five o’clock. So eight o’clock on Wednesday -morning saw the wagon drive in at the gates of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>Kayuna. ’Gustus John in his big overcoat,—for -the morning was chilly,—and in his new -stiff Derby hat, looked a very different figure -from the ’Gustus John of every day, in his blue -overalls and blouse. ’Manda rejoiced in a new -fall bonnet, trimmed with red and blue feathers, -and was wrapped up in a gay plaid shawl. She -sat in front with her husband, and left the -roomy back seat to the children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>They were all ready, and came out smiling -and in good spirits. It was really much easier -parting from dear old Kayuna, since the pleasure -of this long drive was in prospect. Mike -brought Mopsie and Charcoal around to see the -start, he said,—though I think it was really an -excuse to be there himself,—and the girls -must stop for another hug for them, and -kisses on their cold little noses.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The big farm-horses, carefully groomed and -shining, held up their heads, and said, as plainly -as could be, that they were delighted to get off -from the farm-work for one day, as they stood, -stamping the ground, impatient to be off.</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda had some extra shawls with which she -insisted on wrapping up Cricket and Eunice, -for this October morning was crisp and cool. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>The children felt like little mummies, but they -were glad of the extra warmth. Eliza charged -’Manda to take off the shawls before they -reached town, so “they might look like something, -when they got there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then ’Gustus John gathered up the reins, -and the horses, tossing their fine heads, -wheeled around, and went down the avenue at a -brisk trot, while Eunice and Cricket waved -good-by to dear old Kayuna, and threw kisses -to Mopsie and Charcoal.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Gayly the horses trotted along the hard country -roads, glad of a chance to show their spirits -and their speed. Merrily the girls’ tongues -wagged, and ’Gustus John and ’Manda on the -front seat exchanged delighted glances. They -were such a good-natured couple that the children -always wondered how they happened to -have such a spoiled child as Mamie. Really -’Manda was too good-natured and easy with her. -She never could bear to correct or punish her in -any way, and since Mamie was not very good to -begin with, the result was a bad one, as we -know. Too much of our own way is not good -for any of us.</p> - -<p class='c010'>An hour of this brisk pace brought them to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>a roadside hotel, where the horses were watered -at a great trough by the side of the road. It -was pretty to watch the thirsty creatures, as -they plunged their noses deep in the clear, running -water, and then drank eagerly. Then -’Gustus John checked them up again, climbed -into the light wagon, and then, gathering up the -reins, he cracked his whip and they were off -once more.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Just after that they had an accident that -might easily have been a serious one. The -back seat of the wagon could be taken out, so -that ’Gustus John could use the space behind -for packing jars of butter, and baskets of eggs, -when he went to town with “small truck,” as -he called it. When the seat was put back, two -little iron pieces on the bottom slipped into two -little sockets and held it fast. Even without -this, the seat would rest pretty securely on the -frame-work.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now, while ’Gustus John had been harnessing -that morning, he had just lifted the seat from -the barn floor, to put it in place,—for the last -time he had used this wagon the seat had been -taken out,—when he was called away. He -rested it in its place on the body of the wagon; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>then, without stopping at the moment, to notice -if it was secure, went to see what was wanted. -When he came back the seat looked all right, -and he entirely forgot that he had not yet -slipped the little irons into the sockets. It -would have been safe enough, in this way, over -smooth, level roads, but a jar, or a steep ascent, -would have been enough to throw it off the -body of the wagon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After they left the watering-trough, the road -wound up a steep hill, a very steep one. -Eunice leaned forward and took hold of the -back of the front seat.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Seems to me, Cricket,” she said, “this seat -rather wiggles. Hope it won’t slip off.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nonsense! I don’t feel it,” said Cricket. -“’Gustus John always fastens it in tight. -I’ve seen him lots of times,” and by way of -showing her confidence in ’Gustus John’s care, -she leaned back with a little unnecessary force. -The horses at that moment came to what is -called, in the country, a “thank you marm,” -which is a sort of mound across the road to act -as a water-shed. The wagon gave a jerk as it -passed over. This was too much for the seat, -which had slipped a little as they climbed the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>hill, and off it went behind, bringing the two -little girls with it, down into the middle of the -road. At the same instant the horses sprang -forward at a renewed trot, as they swept around -a curve to a more level piece of road, and they -were out of sight in a moment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket and Eunice, breathless with their sudden -descent, sat on the seat, staring after their -chariot in great bewilderment. They had gone -over so suddenly, that neither of them had -screamed, and ’Gustus John and ’Manda, talking -busily over their errands in town, did not know -that they had lost their passengers. Suddenly -’Manda, hearing a faint cry in the distance, -turned around to see if the children heard it. -There was nothing but emptiness behind.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lawful suz,” she cried, catching at the -reins. “Ef we hain’t ben and gone and lost -them children! Turn round, ’Gustus John! -turn <i>round</i>, I say!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Gustus John’s slower brain could only take -in one fact.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let go the lines, ’Mandy,” he said, sharply, -as one of the horses reared at the sudden twitch -of the reins. “Hain’t I told yer more’n five -hundred times not to do that on no account?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>“The children, ’Gustus John!” gasped -’Manda, rising in her place, and looking back. -“We’ve lost the children! where can they -be?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lost ’em <i>out</i>?” ’Gustus John pulled up so -suddenly that the horses fell back on their -haunches. “My Gummy!” He whirled the -horses around, and drove back. As they came -to the curve, they saw Eunice and Cricket in -the road, trying to get out of the heavy shawls, -which wrapped them like mummies.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I declare for it! Are you hurt, -children?” ’Manda called, eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Both little girls came up laughing.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, not a bit,” they declared. They had -not struck their backs at all, only slipped right -out, seat and all, and the thick shawls had protected -them. ’Gustus John was ready to sink -into the ground with mortification.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I swan! I never did forget that ’ere seat -fastenin’ before. To think I’ve been and done -it this mornin’ of all mornin’s. I’m ashamed -to look your pa in the face ever agin, when I’ve -pretty nigh killed ye both.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, we’re not hurt the least bit,” Cricket -assured him, eagerly, as he fixed the seat firmly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>in its place again. “It was lots of fun going -over. It slipped off just as <i>easy</i>!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda felt the children all over very carefully, -to make sure that no bones were broken, -she said, though, seeing how lively the children -were, there was little fear of that.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That seat’s ez tight as a drum, now,” said -’Gustus John, finally, preparing to lift the girls -in.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wait a minute,” said ’Manda; “I must -tidy them up a bit, now. Look at Cricket’s -hat,” and she straightened the crooked hat, -patted down the flying locks, and pulled their -dresses around. “Ain’t it warm enough to take -off them shawls, now? There you be!” with a -final pat to each.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then they mounted again and settled in their -places, while the horses, wondering at all this -delay, started off again at a swinging pace, which -took them over the ground so fast that it was -not long before they crossed the long bridge, -and were fairly in town.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was only a little after ten, when they -turned into the home-street, and drew up before -the familiar house. Mamma, seeing their -arrival from an upper window, came hurrying -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>down to meet them, as glad to see her little -daughters as if they had been separated a year, -instead of a few days.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then after mamma had warmly thanked -’Gustus John and ’Manda for bringing such -rosy-faced little maids home, Eunice and Cricket -said good-by to them also, and ran in to the -house, feeling now that the lovely summer at -Kayuna was fairly over.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVI.<br /> <span class='large'>CRICKET’S SHORT MEMORY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The household settled into their town-life -very quickly, and in three days’ time they almost -felt as if their lovely summer had been a -dream. Only the children’s sunburned faces -and hands, and their overflowing health and -spirits, remained as proof positive that they had -not been in town all summer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How strange it is that Marion Blair does -not call for me,” said Marjorie, one day, turning -away from the window, where she had been -standing in hat and coat, for half an hour. -“She said she would be here at three, and it is -nearly four now. I’m afraid we’ll lose the -chrysanthemum show altogether.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Marjorie!” cried Cricket, penitently. -“I’m so sorry. I met Daisy Blair on the street -this morning, and she asked me to give you this -note from Marion.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Marjorie read the note hastily.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You provoking child! She writes that she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>has a severe cold and can’t go out to-day, but -wants me to call for Sallie Evarts, and go with -her, and Sallie would wait for me till three. -Sallie was going with us. Now, it’s too late to -go way up there, and you’ve lost us the flower-show—both -of us, for I’m sure Sallie wouldn’t -go off alone—and it’s the last day.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, Marjorie dear, I am <i>so</i> sorry,” Cricket -said, looking crushed, as she always did, when -her forgetfulness was in question. “I’m <i>awfully</i> -sorry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You always are awfully sorry,” returned -Marjorie, impatiently, “but that does not excuse -your abominable forgetfulness.” Marjorie used -strong language, but really Cricket’s constant -slips of memory were maddening.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Both her mother and father felt very badly -over this fault of Cricket’s, knowing it might -any day bring serious consequences. They had -tried every possible means to help her overcome -it, but thus far nothing had ever done any special -good. She would remember better for a time, -and then forget more than ever. One reason -for her forgetfulness was an odd one. With all -her high spirits and her love of active, out-door -sports, Cricket was also greatly given to day-dreams. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>She had a strong imagination, and -was devoted to her books, for she liked to read -quite as much as she loved to run and play. -When she was by herself, she was always -dreaming out strange fancies, making jingles -which she called poetry, or telling stories to -herself about all sorts of things. When she -was given an errand to do she would always set -off willingly enough, and in a moment would -be entirely absorbed in her own fancies as she -walked along the street. She would perhaps go -past the house to which she had been sent, for -an entire block, then, suddenly recollecting herself, -would turn quickly and go as far in the -other direction. Marjorie said that one day, -when she was calling at a certain house, she -saw Cricket pass a house opposite four times -before she remembered to go in when she came -to the door.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She had frequently been known to pass her -own home, if she chanced to come alone from -school, and walk on for a couple of blocks. A -letter intrusted to her might reach its destination -any time within six months, if it went -into her pocket. She never by any chance -remembered a message. She even forgot, oftentimes, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>whether she had eaten her lunch or not. -Indeed, the only thing she never mislaid were -her school-books, and the sole things she never -forgot were her lessons. Her memory for history, -even for long strings of dates, was really -unusual. She could commit pages of poetry, -and Latin declensions, and conjugations rolled -easily off her glib little tongue.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Since this was the case, I am sadly afraid -that Cricket’s slips of memory were simply -from lack of attention to what people told her -to do. Her mind was always too full of plans -and fancies of her own to notice carefully what -they said. Consequently, things of that sort -being laid on the top of her mind, constantly -rolled off and were lost.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So long as Cricket was only a little girl, her -fault was annoying but not serious. Now, as -she grew older, and might have important -messages and errands intrusted to her by people -who did not know her failing, you may be sure -mamma was in constant terror.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After Cricket’s forgetfulness in delivering the -note had lost Marjorie and her friend the -flower-show, mamma had a long and very -serious talk with her little daughter. She -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>reminded her how often she had talked to her -on the same subject before, and how each time -Cricket had promised to do better; how useless -it was for her to say how sorry she was, and -then forget the next day just the same.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, you see,” Cricket said, candidly, “I -say ‘I’ll <i>never</i> forget again,’ and then prob’ly -the next day I go and do it. And then, naturally, -I get discouraged. <i>Ever</i> is such a long -time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, little daughter,” suggested mamma, -“suppose you try this way. Don’t say that -you’ll <i>never</i> forget again, but only ‘I will try -not to forget a thing I’m told to do <i>to-day</i>,’ and -the next day say the same thing. You don’t -know how quickly the habit of remembering -would be formed, for I really think that your -constant forgetfulness is largely a habit.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I might try that,” said Cricket, thoughtfully. -“Couldn’t I take a day off, sometimes?” she -added, quickly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma laughed</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There is no such thing as ‘taking a day off,’ -when we are trying to do better, pet. Do you -know, overcoming a bad habit is like rolling up -a ball of string. If you drop it, you have just -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>so much to do over. So if you take even one -day off—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I see,” interrupted Cricket, with a sigh. -“I’ve just got to keep winding. But, truly, I’ll -try this time not to drop my ball. I really <i>do</i> -suppose,” she added, thoughtfully, after a moment, -“that I could remember better, if I didn’t -tell stories to myself all the time I’m walking, -but it’s such fun. I get so interested that I -don’t know anything.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then the stories should go, little daughter,” -said mamma, “if they hinder you remembering. -Now try it for one day at a time. ‘Take short -views,’ as Sydney Smith says.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll truly try,” repeated Cricket, with so -serious a face that mamma felt greatly encouraged.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Really, for a week Cricket’s improvement was -marvellous. She resolutely put her beloved -stories and day-dreams out of her mind, if she -was told to do anything, until she had done -it, and she began to realize that it had been -largely a lack of attention that made her forget -messages so.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I haven’t dropped my ball once this week,” -Cricket confided in triumph to mamma, at the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>end of that time, as she kissed her good-night. -Eunice had gone to bed early with a bad headache. -“Really, do you know, remembering -isn’t such hard work, if you only make up your -mind that you will.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma smiled. “I am glad you find it so. -Good-night, love. By-the-by, stop at the library -door, as you go upstairs, and tell papa that Mr. -Evans has just sent word that he will be in about -nine, on some important business.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, mamma,” said Cricket, stopping on her -way out to play with Duster. Then she went -out of the room and upstairs. At her room door -she remembered her message.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just in time,” she thought. “Most dropped -it that time!” and she ran down again to the -library.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma sat listening to see if she delivered -the message. Hearing her run down stairs -again, she smiled, satisfied.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, papa,” Cricket began, when her attention -was attracted by a beautifully illustrated, -new volume, which papa was unwrapping. -“Isn’t that beautiful!” she exclaimed, in delight. -She hung over papa’s shoulder, as he -turned the pages and explained some of the -lovely pictures.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>Suddenly he pulled out his watch and stood -up in thought for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“May I see this more?” begged Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, you may take it for a few minutes,” -said papa. “Be sure you put it back on my -table when you are through with it. I must -step over to Brewster’s for a minute;” and papa -took up some papers and left the room.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket did not heed him. She threw herself -on the white goat-skin before the open fire, and, -with her chin in her hand, she turned the leaves -of the lovely volume in absorbed interest. Papa -went out, and she did not even hear the door -close. Mamma did, though, and stepped to the -door of the parlour. The light still streamed -from the library, and she went back, supposing -papa was still there.</p> - -<p class='c010'>An hour passed. About nine the bell rang -violently; Cricket did not hear it. A few -minutes after, mamma’s repeated “Cricket” -brought her to her feet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where is your father?” Mrs. Ward was saying. -“Didn’t you give him my message?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What message?” faltered Cricket, looking -bewildered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Didn’t you tell him that Mr. Evans would -call? Why, <i>Cricket</i>!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>“Oh, mamma, what shall I do? I forgot all -about it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mr. Evans looked extremely annoyed. He -was an irritable man, with small patience for -any one’s short-comings. Now, he certainly had -good reason to be vexed. His business was important, -and he had to catch a late train for -New York, and had but little time to spare.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, well, then,” he said, shortly, “perhaps -you can tell me where he is gone, if you did forget -the message?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket grew frightened. “I think—I can’t -just remember,” she faltered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Haven’t you any idea?” asked mamma. -“He must have mentioned some place when he -was going;” for it was papa’s rule always to -leave word when he went out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It seems to me—yes, I know,” cried Cricket, -brightening up. “He said he was going to the -Bruces,” with a faint echo of the name that -papa had spoken lingering in her ear. Unfortunately, -the Bruces lived at the other end of -town, and the Brewsters in the next square.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I shall have to risk finding him there, then,” -said Mr. Evans, looking at his watch. “No! I -have not time. Really this is a most unfortunate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>matter,” and Mr. Evans put back his -watch, looking like a thunder-cloud. Having -taken the precaution to notify Dr. Ward that it -was necessary to see him that night on important -business, it was certainly more than vexatious -to find him out. Mrs. Ward was greatly -distressed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I will send Donald instantly to the Bruces,” -she said. “Perhaps then my husband can catch -you at the station before you leave, if he has not -time to go to your house.” And with this Mr. -Evans departed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma dragged Donald from his studies, and -sent him post-haste across the city. Then she -came back to Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We won’t talk about this till after I have -seen papa!” she said, gravely, and miserable -Cricket went slowly off to bed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Forlornly, she mounted the stairs. No thought -of the new volume she had left on the rug came -to her mind. Usually, it would have been safe -enough, but to-night it chanced that Duster was -in an unusually playful mood. All the older -ones but mamma being out, and the younger -ones in bed, Duster felt lonely, and wanted to -play. He strolled into the library in search of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>amusement. The firelight played on the standing -pages of the costly volume, open on the -hearth-rug. Duster darted forward. With -teeth and claws he worried the charming plaything, -pitching it up, and shaking it vigorously, -till the covers banged. He tore the leaves into -fragments and chased them around, then settled -down comfortably to chew up what was -left.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It is but justice to Duster to say that he was -generally a very well-behaved dog, and rarely -did any mischief. He had his own playthings, -and was expected to keep to them. Probably in -the dim light, for mamma had turned down the -gas, he did not realize that the new plaything -was that forbidden delight, a book. However, -in ten minutes the charming volume, with its -beautiful pictures, and choice binding, was a -wreck, and Duster trotted back to mamma, feeling -perfectly virtuous, and much refreshed, as -he lay down on her dress to take a nap.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But the next morning came Cricket’s reckoning -with papa and mamma and the book—or -rather with the remains of it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Donald had returned the night before, saying -that the Bruces had not seen papa, and mamma, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>of course, became very anxious. Donald had -gone out again to two or three places where he -thought his father might be, and then at the -last minute had met him in the street. Dr. -Ward had rushed to the station; Mr. Evans -was there, hoping he might come, and they -had a hurried talk, for fortunately the train -was late. By this lucky chance, only, was a -great amount of inconvenience saved to several -people.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then Dr. Ward came home to find mamma -in the greatest anxiety; and then, to crown all, -when they went into the library, there lay papa’s -rare, new book, a wreck, upon the floor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket came from that interview the most -wretched little girl that ever lived. It was -seldom that her forgetfulness was the cause of -so much mischief, and she had had a very severe -lecture.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m perfectly miserable,” Cricket sobbed, -after papa had gone out. “I thought I was -getting on so beautifully, and somehow, I felt -sure that I was never going to forget again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m afraid that was just the trouble, dear. -Whenever you feel that you are most successful -in overcoming a fault, then is just the time -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>when you need double caution. ‘It’s always -dangerous to be safe,’ you know.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, is that what that saying means?” broke -in Cricket. “I never could see how it was dangerous -to be safe.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s exactly it. Now I want you <i>never</i> -to feel safe. There is always danger of dropping -your ball.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVII.<br /> <span class='large'>CRICKET’S BOOMERANG.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Cricket was so completely subdued by this -last piece of forgetfulness, and its consequences, -that for weeks afterwards her improvement was -simply wonderful.</p> - -<p class='c010'>But old habits are very strong. After a time -Cricket’s watchfulness over herself grew less, -and the old story began. She borrowed Marjorie’s -new silk umbrella in a hurry, because she -could not find her own, and left it in the horsecar. -The very next week she took Zaidee and -Helen out to walk, and left them on a seat in -the park, while she ran to speak to some little -friends. They, not knowing that she had the -twins with her, urged her to go down to Howlett’s -for hot chocolate with them. She went off, -forgetting the children, whom she had charged -“not to stir till I come back.” An hour after, -when she reached home, she was met by Eliza -with a demand for the twins. Nurse flew off on -learning where they had been left, and fifteen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>minutes later she brought in two little shivering, -crying girls, who had not stirred from the seat, -because Cricket had bidden them stay there. -Several policemen and kind-hearted passers-by -had gathered around them, and were trying to -find out where they belonged.</p> - -<p class='c010'>A fine attack of croup for Helen was the -result, and a slight cold for Zaidee, who was -stronger, and Cricket was in disgrace again.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t <i>like</i> to forget,” she said, miserably, -when the entire family took her to task that -evening. “I never mean to forget, and then I -go and do it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Go and don’t do it, you mean,” said Donald.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The trouble is, little daughter,” said papa, -as he had said a hundred times before, “that -you do not pay sufficient attention. You know -how many times I have told you that attention -is putting your mind upon a point, with a view -to remembering it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I expect that’s the trouble,” said Cricket, -quickly. “I <i>do</i> fasten my mind on a point. I -put it on so hard that the point sticks through, -and then of course I can’t remember.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I should think you’d remember sometimes, -by mere accident,” remarked Marjorie, looking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>up from her book. “There are exceptions to -all rules.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket is the exception to that rule,” struck -in Donald.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, I think I have remembered a good -many things thus far, sir,” said Cricket, rather -indignantly. “It was only yesterday that you -told me to tell Rose Condit something, and I -couldn’t think just exactly what it was, but I -remembered to say that you wanted her to -come and see you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was a shout at this.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You little monkey,” said Donald, getting -red. “Did you tell her that? I told you to -say that I’d see her to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s pretty near the same, isn’t it,” -asked Cricket, anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c010'>There was another shout.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket is like a little chap that I used to -hear of when I was a small boy,” began papa, -standing on the hearth-rug, with his hands -behind his back, and smiling down at his small -daughter, as she sat on the rug, clasping her -knees with both hands, and staring thoughtfully -into the fire. Cricket was such a lovable, -winning thing, with all her trying ways, that -one could not be angry with her long.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>“Who was this boy, papa?” she said, looking -up. “Now, please don’t tell me about any good -little boy, who never forgot.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This wasn’t a good little boy, ma’am,” -laughed papa; “he was sent by his mother to -the store for some eggs and sugar and molasses. -Lest he should forget, she told him to repeat -the three things on the way. So he started off, -saying ‘Eggs, sugar, and molasses—eggs, -sugar, and molasses.’ Suddenly he stubbed his -toe, and fell headlong. As he picked himself -up, he said, ‘Wax, tar, and rosin—wax, tar, -and rosin—ain’t forgot yet.’ So when Cricket -<i>does</i> remember, it is likely to be the wrong -thing.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The trouble is that Cricket’s forgetfulness -never makes any difference to herself. She -isn’t the one that suffers,” said Marjorie, still -feeling injured over her silk umbrella. “It’s -always something of other people’s that she -forgets.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It ought to be a boomerang arrangement,” -said Donald, as he got up to go out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s a boomer-something?” asked -Cricket, curiously.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A boomerang, my dear,” returned Donald, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>“is a curved piece of wood about a yard long -which is used by the Australians. They throw -it straight along, and it turns a few somersaults, -and presently comes back to the thrower. If a -person who doesn’t understand it throws it, -it’s more than likely to come back, whack, on -his own head. See? Now that’s the style of -thing to make you remember, Miss Scricket. A -good, sharp rap on your own head, when you’re -throwing your forgettings around, would be an -excellent thing, wouldn’t it, little mother?” -kissing his mother as he passed her chair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma smiled up at her tall son, and stroked -Cricket’s curly hair.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m beginning to be afraid,” she said, -“that Donald is right, my little girl, and that -only a ‘boomerang arrangement’ will do any -lasting good.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket sighed. “It’s very hard to be such -a torment to the family, when I love everybody -so,” she said, plaintively. “I wish somebody -would throw stones at me.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Now, as it proved, the boomerang was not -far away.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The very next week a note was brought to -the school which Cricket attended, for her to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>give to her mother. She put it in her pocket, -and of course it might as well have gone into -a coal-mine, as far as her thinking of it again -was concerned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>That was Wednesday. Cricket did not -chance to wear that particular dress again till -the next Wednesday, for she tore it in some -way, and it was laid aside to be mended. On -going home from school she chanced to put her -hand in her pocket, and brought up the note.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where did this come from!” she thought, -in bewilderment. She could not at all remember, -but she concluded that some one had given -it to her on her way to school, though she could -not recall it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m so glad I thought of it,” she said to -herself, quite proudly, and she held it in her -hand all the way home lest she should forget -to deliver it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma received the week-old note, and read -it without any suspicion. It was dated, simply, -“Wednesday morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“This is from Mrs. Drayton,” she exclaimed -to papa. “I’m so glad. She says that Mrs. -Lynn will spend a day and night with her. -She’s the famous lecturer, you know. She and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>Mrs. Drayton were school-mates. She comes -very unexpectedly now, and Mrs. Drayton wants -us to dine there to-night, very informally. The -Camerons will be there—no one else. You -can go, can’t you, dear?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, it will suit me very well,” said papa.</p> - -<p class='c010'>After Cricket had left the room Mrs. Ward -added,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She writes a postscript to say that she is -planning a luncheon party for Emily, for her -birthday on Saturday, as a surprise to her, and -invites Eunice and Cricket. She is going to -take the children, after, to the matinée, to see -the ‘Old Homestead.’ Isn’t that just like Mrs. -Drayton? Poor Eunice won’t be able to go -unless her cold is very much better, but Cricket -will be overjoyed. And she says not to tell the -children till Friday, lest Emily should hear of -it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma was delighted at the chance of meeting -Mrs. Lynn, who was a very noted woman, -and she and papa went off in good season.</p> - -<p class='c010'>About half-past eight, to the surprise of the -children, who were gathered in the sitting-room,—the -younger ones always had permission -to sit up a little later when their father -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>and mother were out—the click of papa’s latchkey -was heard in the door, and a moment after -he and mamma entered the room.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What is the matter? Are you ill?” came -in a chorus.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nobody is ill,” said papa, looking queer.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then what <i>is</i> the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nothing much—only there was no dinner-party.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No <i>dinner-party</i>?” every one exclaimed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma took up the note which had been -left on the table, and said gravely to Cricket,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tell me where you got this note, my dear?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“From my pocket,” returned Cricket, in -much surprise.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How did it get there? When did you find -it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, this,—” Cricket hesitated. “Yes, it -certainly <i>was</i> this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You certainly gave it to me this morning, -but who gave it to you, and when?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It was the funniest thing,” said Cricket, -eagerly. “I really don’t know. I honestly -don’t remember putting it there, and yet somebody -must have given it to me on the way to -school.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>“Could anybody have left it at school, for -you?” asked papa.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I’m sure no one did this morning. -Some one left a note a long time ago, but,—” -Cricket stopped suddenly, in dismay.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Exactly, my dear,” said papa, dryly. “It -was a long time ago—just one week.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamma!” cried Cricket, “didn’t I ever -give you that note? Is this the same one?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“The very same. How did you not happen -to find it before?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket looked down at her dress.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, Cricket!” exclaimed Eunice. “You -haven’t had that dress on for a long time. -You tore the ruffle last week, and you were -waiting for Eliza to mend it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That is it, then,” said mamma. “Now, do -you know what you have done? The note was -given you last Wednesday. You put it in your -pocket, and did not think of it again. You -found it to-day, and did not even know how -it got in your pocket.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I thought it was queer,” murmured Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You gave me the note this morning. It -was dated simply ‘Wednesday,’ so of course I -never doubted it had just been given you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>“Then there wasn’t any dinner-party to-night?” -faltered Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll tell you what your forgetfulness has -done, my dear,” answered mamma. “Mrs. -Lynn was at Mrs. Drayton’s for that night only. -We were anxious to meet each other, for I -know her sister very well. She came very -unexpectedly, and Mrs. Drayton sent the note in -to you, since your school is so near her, as the -quickest way of its reaching me.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“To-night, as papa and I arrived, we saw the -Draytons’ carriage standing in front of their -door, and of course wondered at that. As we -rang the bell, the door opened, and the Draytons -themselves came out, to our great amazement. -They exclaimed at seeing us, and we -immediately found they were invited out to -dinner themselves to-night. Of course we explained, -and so did they, though, as they were -already late, they could only stop a few moments.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mrs. Drayton was greatly surprised last -week, when we neither arrived nor sent any -word, but supposed it was one of my sudden -illnesses. Think how rude you made us appear, -Cricket.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And then, how ridiculous you made us seem -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>to-night,” added papa, “in going to dine, when -there wasn’t any dinner-party.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket was much too wretched to speak. -She was curled up in a corner of the couch, -with her head buried in the cushions.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But that is not all,” went on papa.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket raised a tear-stained face, in added -dismay. What more could there be?</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And I am not altogether sorry, my dear, -that it will be a great disappointment to yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, ho!” said Donald, quickly. “Boomerang -business, I see.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, a boomerang, and no mistake. Tell -her, mamma.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mrs. Drayton had arranged a children’s luncheon-party -for Saturday as a surprise for Emily. -Six were invited, and she intended to take them -to a matinée afterward, to their box, to see -‘The Old Homestead.’ She invited you and -Eunice. I thought I should let you go, Cricket, -even though Eunice may not be well enough.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket came to her feet with a bound. “Can -I go?” she asked, eagerly. “I am dying to see -‘The Old Homestead?’ Oh, goody, goody!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t you understand, dear?” asked mamma. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>“The matinée-party shares the fate of the dinner-party. -They are both over, and we were not -there. You forgot the note, you see, and it was -<i>last</i> Saturday, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Last Saturday! Have I lost it!” exclaimed -Cricket, with eyes as large as saucers.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Whew!” whistled Donald. “That’s a good -hard whack with the boomerang, my lady. You -threw it well, that time.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hush, Donald,” said mamma. “Don’t tease -her.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket burst into a flood of tears. To have -lost one of Emily Drayton’s parties! Such <i>beautiful</i> -parties her mamma always had for her, too. -And then think of a matinée and a box! Dr. -Ward did not approve of much theatre-going for -little people, and the children rarely went, excepting -for their Christmas treat. All Cricket’s -little friends had seen ‘The Old Homestead,’ -and she had been begging for weeks to go. Now -by her own careless forgetfulness she had lost -it. It was too dreadful. Her boomerang had -struck her a “whack,” indeed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m awfully sorry for you, Cricket,” Marjorie -said, “but I can’t help hoping that you’ll -realize now how pleasant it is for other people -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>to lose flower-shows and umbrellas and dinner-parties.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Make her stop, mamma!” sobbed wretched -Cricket. “I’m always sorry when I forget -your things, Marjorie.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes,” assented teasing Donald, though he -really pitied his little sister. “It’s easy to -bear another man’s misfortune like a Christian. -Come, youngster, take your whacking like a -man.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“By-the-way, have you had any dinner?” -asked Marjorie, of mamma.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, yes, papa and I went to the Bolingbroke -and dined. Come, Cricket, it’s bedtime. I’ll -go up with you.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket stumbled upstairs, blind with tears. -Mamma helped her to undress, in her gentle -way, and when the little girl was in bed she sat -down and talked with her for a while.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, it’s very hard, little daughter,” said -mamma, “but now I want you to think how -often your forgetfulness has caused other people -to lose as much pleasure as this of yours. I -cannot tell you, for instance, how disappointed -I am, not to see Mrs. Lynn. She went to New -York the next day, and sailed on Saturday for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>Europe for a long stay. I may not have another -chance of meeting her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All this is serious, but not so much so, as -your forgetting old Mrs. Cummings’s message not -long ago, so that her poor husband nearly died -before papa could get there. It is not worse -than when you forgot to tell Donald that Mr. -Marsh wanted him to call at his office on business; -or when you didn’t tell papa that Mr. -Evans wanted to see him, or when you forgot the -children, and gave poor little Helen such an attack -of the croup that she is scarcely strong yet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do people always feel as badly as I do?” -sobbed Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just as badly, my dear. Indeed, I think it’s -a trifle easier when you’ve only yourself to -blame. As Marjorie said, it is strange that you so -seldom suffer yourself, and yet it is not strange, -either. You remember the things, you see, that -you are interested in. I do hope, dearie, that -this will be a lesson, and that your boomerang -may never hit you so hard again.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“If boomerangs hurt other people half as -much as this one has hurt me,” said Cricket, -between her sobs, “they sha’n’t feel any more of -<i>my</i> boomerangs, I am sure of that.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>“I hope not, darling,” said mamma, kissing -her good-night.</p> - -<p class='c010'>And really, I am glad to say that this was -Cricket’s last serious piece of forgetfulness. She -set herself with all her might and main to conquer -her fault, and tried as she had never tried -before. She regularly remembered to bring -home both her bundle and her change when she -was sent on an errand. She posted letters -promptly. She remembered various messages -that were given to her for her mamma; and on -one occasion she even got up in the middle of -the night, and went to papa with some word -which had been given to her for him during the -day, and which she had forgotten.</p> - -<p class='c010'>So she improved steadily. I do not mean to -say that she never forgot or neglected anything -again, for she certainly did; but she would usually -recall the forgotten thing in time to set it straight. -She understood now that no half-way trying will -conquer any fault, and nothing outside will help -one to do it until a person makes up his mind to -do it himself.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Weeks after, there arrived for Cricket, one -evening after dinner, a mysterious package. -The family were all in the sitting-room, where -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>they usually gathered for a time, after dinner, -before they separated to their various duties or -pleasures. Cricket opened it amid much wondering -on the part of the others, as well as on -her own.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was a long thing, and when Cricket got it -free from all its wrappings, what do you think -she found? An oddly curved piece of hard -wood, nearly a yard long, pointed at both ends, -about four inches wide in the middle, and half -an inch thick.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What in the world is this queer-looking -thing?” Cricket asked, holding it up in both -hands in great amazement.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“A boomerang, my dear,” answered Donald. -“For memorabil.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“For <i>what</i>?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Memorabil. That means to remember -something by. Tie it up with pretty little blue -ribbons, and hang it in your room, my dear, as -girls always do with their trinkets. When you -look at it, you’ll remember the famous occasion -when you learned not to forget, for you’re getting -to be as reliable as a district messenger -boy. We can give you an errand now with -forty-nine chances out of a hundred that it will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>be done. Next summer I’ll teach you how to -throw this. I’ve taken lessons on purpose.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And the boomerang hangs on Cricket’s wall -to this day.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVIII.<br /> <span class='large'>KENNETH’S DAY.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>Like most days, this particular day of Kenneth’s -began in the morning. He slept in a -crib in mamma’s large room, for the twins and -Eliza had the nursery all to themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Every morning, as soon as it was dawn, Kenneth -would begin to stir like a little bird in his -white nest, and then, half asleep as he was, he -would scramble quietly out of his crib, gather -up his long, white nightie, and steal softly over -to the big bed across the room.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then came the never-failing joke of clapping -his little fat hands over papa’s sleepy eyes, with -a chirping,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Dess who’s here, papa!” and papa, of -course, never could guess, and always named -over the whole flock, from seventeen-year-old -Donald down, till the baby called out, gleefully,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s you’ Tennet, papa!” and scrambled like -a little monkey into his arms. He was such a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>sunny little creature, always beaming on the -world in general, with such radiant good-temper, -that it was no wonder he was everybody’s pet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>This particular morning was the seventh of -November, just before the Presidential election. -Kenneth was astir earlier than usual, for some -reason, and it was still dark when he crept -with unusual caution across the floor, and stuck -his little fists into papa’s eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>He lifted him up, without his customary frolic, -saying, sleepily,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Be a good baby, Kenneth, and let papa -have another snooze.” So the little fellow cuddled -down in his father’s arms, and lay as still -as a mouse, with his arms tight around papa’s -neck, and his golden curls drifting across his -face and getting dreadfully in his way. At last -papa was aroused by a patient little sigh.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, then, Kenneth,” he said, suddenly -hoisting him up in the air, “do you know that -papa must go and vote to-day?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let Tennet do, too, papa?” he suggested, -coaxingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not to-day, my little man. You’ll have to -wait for eighteen years.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tan I do res’day?” this was as near as his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>crooked little tongue could come to yesterday, -which was his name for any indefinite period.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We’ll see, my son. By-the-way, what are -your politics?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth sat up on papa’s chest and looked -wise. He knew quite well when papa was -teasing him.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“You are a Republican, I suppose, you -monkey?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth shook his head till his sunny curls -fell over his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What! not a Republican? You don’t -mean to tell me you’re a Democrat, do you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth considered.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Es, I is. I is a Democrack,” he said, decidedly, -conquering the c’s, as he sometimes did, -with a mighty effort.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Very well, then,” said papa, with equal -decision, “then you must go away from me. I -can’t have any little Democracks in my bed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>To his surprise, the baby slowly slipped from -his arms and slid down to the floor without a -word. Papa watched him with amusement; -never thinking he would hold out.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Change your mind, baby,” he said, coaxingly. -“You’re not a Democrack now, are you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>Kenneth looked back, wistfully. He was -half-way across the floor.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I <i>is</i> a Demo-crack—” he answered, without -wavering.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then you’ll have to get into your own -crib,” said papa, teasingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Without a word the baby went on, climbed -up on a chair and tumbled head over heels into -his own nest.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Fifteen minutes later, when papa got up to -dress, he found his little son cuddled down in a -forlorn little ball, with his thumb tucked into -his mouth, and his blue eyes grave and wide.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth hid his head on papa’s shoulder, -when he lifted him up and petted him; but he -had nothing to say. By-and-by he wriggled -away from him and crept up to mamma, who -was sitting before the dressing-table, brushing -her hair, as bright as baby’s own.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mamma,” he whispered, very softly, “I -isn’t a Demo-crack now, but I don’t want papa -to see me chain my mind.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth’s mind was destined to give him -more trouble that very day, for, with all his -sweetness, he was very persistent.</p> - -<p class='c010'>That afternoon he was in the library, all alone -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>with mamma. The elder girls were all off, -and the twins were out with Eliza, and papa -was making his daily rounds among his patients, -so Kenneth and mamma had the blazing wood -fire—for the early autumn days were chilly—and -the sunny library all to themselves.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma was sewing on some dainty white -material, and Kenneth was amusing himself in -his usual quiet fashion. There was a lower -shelf, close to the floor, where the children’s -books were kept, and there stood a long line of -attractive, red-bound Rollo books, fourteen of -them. These always had a special fascination -for Kenneth. He would pull them all out, and -build houses with them, or turn over the leaves, -looking at pictures, talking busily to himself -all the time.</p> - -<p class='c010'>At last he tired of them, and ran away to -something else.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Put up the Rollo books, darling,” said -mamma.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“’Es, I put zem up,” said Kenneth, but he -kept on pursuing some belated flies.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See, mamma!” he cried, “I dust pote ’em, -so, and zey all fall down.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poor flies,” said mamma, pitifully. “Don’t -kill them. That is not kind.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>“All right, I won’t,” Kenneth answered. -Presently mamma, attracted by the stillness, -turned around. Kenneth was still standing by -the window, with his little forefinger pointed at -a poor, weak fly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“F’y, f’y,” he said, half-aloud, “does you -want to do to heaven? Do zere, zen!” and -down came his plump finger, crushing the fly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Kenneth,” said mamma, to draw off his -attention, “come now and pick up the books -you had.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth, for a wonder, looked very unwilling. -Sending flies to heaven was much more interesting. -However, he got up slowly, and went -across the room, looking at mamma from under -his long lashes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Pick them all up, baby,” said mamma, -cheerily, “and then come and sit in mamma’s -lap and watch for papa. It’s almost time for -him to come.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth stood by the scattered pile of books. -Somehow he felt very unwilling to put them -back in their places.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Come, little son, pick them up,” repeated -mamma. To her intense surprise, Kenneth suddenly -whipped his hands behind his back.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>“Tennet won’t!” he announced, standing as -straight on his two fat legs as a little drummajor. -If one of the pet doves had flown in her -face, mamma could scarcely have been more -surprised. She had never before had to tell -Kenneth twice to do anything.</p> - -<p class='c010'>For a moment she scarcely knew what to do.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“See if you can’t get all the books in order, -Kenneth, before papa comes,” she said, after a -moment, as if she had not heard.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tennet won’t!” in tones more decided, as -he gained courage.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then,” said mamma, slowly, “Kenneth -must go in the corner for five minutes.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth, looking very serious, but quite -determined, immediately took up his station in -the corner formed by the tall old clock and a -book-case, while mamma waited while the moments -ticked off. An unending time it seemed -to the naughty baby, who stood gravely watching -his mother, as if he were not at all concerned.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then mamma said,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Will Kenneth pick up the books now?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tennet won’t.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>This time there was a gleam of mischief that -at once resolved mamma to sterner measures.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>“Very well, then I must spat baby’s hands -hard,” and she took up one of the soft bits of -velvet that served Kenneth for hands, and -bestowed a decided spat upon it. Kenneth -winked and swallowed. He put his reddened -fingers behind his back, and promptly offered -the other hand, which mamma spatted also.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Straightway he went through the same performance, -producing hand number one. It was -difficult to keep from laughing, for the baby was -so sober and so determined. He never moved -his eyes from mamma’s face.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Fully half a dozen times, mamma slapped the -hands of her rebellious little man. Then, suddenly -remembering baby’s speech in the nursery, -she said,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, Kenneth, mamma is going into the -hall for a few minutes, and there will be nobody -to see you change your mind, so you can pick -up the books, and—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tennet <i>won’t</i>!” came with such determined -emphasis that mamma almost jumped.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Then, when I come back,” mamma went on, -looking very grave, “I will bring a little switch -with me, and whip my baby’s hands hard. -Kenneth must not say ‘won’t’ to mamma.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>Kenneth’s eyes looked very serious indeed, as -his mother left the room. Such a long, long -time she was gone!</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kenneth looked at the books, and then at his -red fingers. Papa might come and find him in -the corner. He began to want to go and put -the books back now, but somehow his legs -would not carry him there. Then mamma -appeared, and, oh, dreadful! she had a little -lilac switch, that to baby’s frightened eyes -looked like a club. Very slowly she came -towards her little son, looking, oh, so sad! and -suddenly Kenneth’s stubbornness melted away.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Tennet will! Tennet will!” he cried, and -flew past mamma, and with breathless haste -scrambled up the red-bound Rollo books, stowing -them in their places with much eagerness, if not -very carefully.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma sat awaiting him with open arms, -and as Kenneth nestled up to her shoulder, he -put his arms around her neck and whispered,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Please don’t tell papa zat I had to chain my -mind aden.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIX.<br /> <span class='large'>A STRAWBERRY HUNT.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The winter in town slipped by quickly. The -children were counting impatiently the weeks -that must pass before they should be at dear old -Kayuna again, when all plans for the summer -were very suddenly changed.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Mamma grew no stronger as the spring came -on, and papa and other doctors thought that she -ought to have a sea-voyage. Papa decided to go -abroad for two or three months and see what the -air in the Swiss mountains would do for her. -At first mamma insisted on taking all the children, -for she could not make up her mind to leave -one of her dear little flock behind, but papa knew -that she ought to have no care at all. Finally, -after much discussion, it was settled in this -way: Marjorie and Donald, who were old enough -to be of some help and comfort to mamma, should -go, and the other children should be sent to Marbury, -a dear old seaport town, where grandmamma -lived, for the summer. Mamma begged -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>for Kenneth, her baby, but the doctors all said -no. Eliza was perfectly devoted to him and the -twins, and she promised not to let them out of -her sight all summer, and besides, Auntie Jean -would be at grandma’s also. So mamma had to -be content.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Kayuna was to have an addition built on this -summer, since they were all to be away, for, as -the family grew, they needed more room, and -much repairing was to be done also.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Papa and mamma were to sail the last of June. -One day, about the middle of the month, papa -went out to Kayuna, to give his final directions -about the work to be done there.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Children,” he said at dinner, that night, “I -saw that the strawberry beds at Kayuna were in -prime condition to-day. The vines are laden -with fruit. Would you like to make a picnic -out there in a day or two, and gather some? -You won’t see Kayuna strawberries this summer, -you know.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t think they need that argument,” said -mamma, smiling at the exclamations of delight -that greeted this proposal.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“How shall we go, papa?” asked Marjorie, -who was always practical.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>“Take the street-cars out to Porter’s Inn,” -said papa, “and then walk the rest of the way. -You won’t mind the two miles. Or you can go -by rail, and get out at East Wellsboro’, only you -can’t get there very early that way.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The children voted for the street-cars and -Porter’s Inn.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Shall the kidlets go?” asked Eunice. This -was Donald’s name for the twins, for Eunice and -Cricket were the kids.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” said Marjorie, decidedly. “It’s too -far altogether for the twins.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Zaidee and Helen immediately set up a wail, -at being thus put aside.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s really much too far for you, my pets,” -said mamma. “You and Kenneth shall go to -the park with Eliza and have a fine time. You -can sail around the pond, and feed the swans.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“And we’ll bring you lots of strawberries,” -added Cricket, comfortingly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, do; and be as successful as you were -last summer with the blackberries,” began papa, -with a twinkle, but Cricket pinched him under -the table till he begged for mercy.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Couldn’t we ask two or three boys and girls -to go with us?” asked Marjorie. “I’d like to -have May Chester and the Gray boys.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>“Yes, certainly. Ask Jack Fleming, too. -Cook shall put you up some luncheon, and you -can take my keys and go into the house, if you -like.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let’s go to-morrow. Things always happen -if you put things off,” said Eunice, not very -clearly.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Very well, my dear. I’m of your opinion -myself,” said papa. “Marjorie, I’ll take you -round to see May Chester, after dinner, and -while you’re there, I’ll look up the boys.” -Papa would take any amount of trouble for the -happiness of his flock.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Everybody proved to be delighted with the -idea. The next day was wonderfully fine, even -for June. At nine o’clock the party were all -gathered at the Wards’. Each little person had -a wicker-basket, now containing luncheon, but -which were to come home full of the biggest -berries they could find. If they wished, they -were to get some big pails at the farm-house, and -’Gustus John, who was coming into town with -fresh vegetables, would bring them in for the -children.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Papa took them himself to the street-cars, to -see the merry party safely off.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>“Don’t stay too late,” cautioned papa. “On -the other hand, you need not come home at -noon,” with a sly glance at Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Papa!” said that young lady, “if you say -any more about that, I won’t come to-night, and -then you’ll be sorry.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then the car came, and they were off.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Isn’t this larks?” beamed Eunice. Picnics -in the country were every-day affairs, but to -start right out from town, to be gone all day, -was particularly fine and grown-up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Fortunately, when they were only half-way -there, they were the only occupants of the cars, -and they seemed to fill it full. Each one tried -every corner, and each seat between. They read -the advertisements carefully, and tried the effect -of reading them backwards. Then they read a -line from each one, and each reading seemed -funnier than the last.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Marjorie,” asked Cricket, who had been -studying one advertisement carefully, “what -does <i>Ware</i> mean?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wear?” repeated Marjorie; “why, to put on -anything—to wear it.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, I don’t mean that kind of wear. Look up -there. What kind of a ham is a Wareham?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>“Where is it? oh, that!” and Marjorie went -off in a fit of laughter. “That doesn’t mean a -ham at all. It’s just one word—Wareham. -It’s a place,—Wareham Manufactory.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh,” said Cricket, meekly. “I thought it -was a new kind of ham.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>In spite of their fun, it was a long ride to -Porter’s Inn, which was the end of the line. -They were glad enough to scramble out and -stretch their limbs. It was a warm morning, -and as the white stretch of country road was -unshaded for a long distance, it was a hot, tired -little party that reached Kayuna. As they -pushed back the heavy gates, and went up the -avenue, how delicious seemed the cool, green -shade of the great beech trees, and how soft to -their feet was the fine turf, along which they -scampered!</p> - -<p class='c010'>How strange it seemed to the Wards to look -up at those shuttered windows, and see no signs -of life about the house!</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Seems as if I <i>must</i> see Dixie come racing -down to meet us,” said Cricket, “and hear his -little ‘row! row!’” But Dixie had been sent -to the rectory to spend the summer, and Mopsie -and Charcoal had gone over to Marbury, so that -the children could have them there.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>The workmen had not begun their work yet, -so there were no signs of life about the place. -Marjorie had been intrusted with papa’s keys. -She felt very grand, drawing them from her -pocket with a flourish, and inserting one in the -door. It swung back with a startlingly loud -clang, and a rush of close, shut-up air came out. -The great, echoing hall looked so large and so -lonely that for a moment the children hesitated -to enter it.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Jack found his courage at the sight of the -broad, smooth balustrade.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hooray!” he shouted. “My eye! what a -boss place to slide down!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>He dashed off up the stairs, and came bolting -down the balustrade again, sweeping a fine lot -of dust before him. The spell was broken, and -the children entered laughing. Once inside, the -Wards soon lost the sense of strangeness, and -raced all over the house in great delight, showing -their favourite places to their friends.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Do let’s rest,” begged May Chester, at last. -“I’m nearly dead!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let’s go into the library and sit down. It’s -always cool and lovely there,” began Marjorie, -leading the way. “Oh, I forgot! The chairs -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>are all tied up, and it’s so gloomy with the -shutters closed. We might sit down on the -stairs.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Dusty stairs are not very soft places to rest -on, when one is really tired, however, and they -soon decided to go out and sit on the grass.</p> - -<p class='c010'>In their interest in exploring the house, they -had quite forgotten the strawberries, till Alex -Gray suddenly remembered as they stood on -the piazza.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Hallo! where are our strawberries? I quite -forgot to look and see in which of the rooms the -strawberry bed is placed.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Don’t try to be funny,” said Marjorie, “it’s -too hot.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know where the strawberry bed isn’t,” -said Jack, “it isn’t down cellar,” as he appeared -with smutty streaks across his face, showing -where he had been exploring.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Let’s rest a few minutes longer under these -lovely trees,” pleaded May. “It will be so hot -out in the garden.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I’ll show you,” said Cricket, running -down the steps. “I won’t keep you in suspicion.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“In <i>suspense</i>,” put in Marjorie.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>“Well, I meant suspense. It’s all the same,” -said Cricket, cheerfully. “Come on, boys! Oh, -you <i>dear</i> old trees!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I suppose we might as well all go, then,” -said Marjorie, getting up.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The strawberry beds quite fulfilled Dr. Ward’s -accounts of them. The children fell eagerly to -work, their fatigue all forgotten. Such great, -luscious berries as drooped their rosy faces -under the leaves would make everything forgotten -but themselves. For a while there were -constant shouts of “Oh, what a beauty!” “My! -look at this bunch!” “See these bouncers!” -till beauties and bouncers were an old story.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I couldn’t eat another berry to save my -life, I do believe!” sighed Eunice, at last, looking -very sad.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Eat them, then, to save the berries,” answered -Jack, popping a very big one into her -mouth.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now for my part,” said Alex, “I was just -going to inquire about luncheon.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The girls, in chorus, protested that they -couldn’t eat a mouthful.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well, I like that!” returned Alex. “As if -we’d be filled up by a few berries.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>“A <i>few</i> berries? oh!” laughed Marjorie.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“They are soft and not filling,” answered -Alex. “What do you think boys are made of, -ma’am?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know,” answered Cricket, quickly. “They -are made like accordiums—to stretch out.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Accord<i>ions</i>,” corrected Marjorie, with a -laugh. “Oh, Cricket, you’re the worst child -about long words!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I don’t care,” answered Cricket, comfortably. -“People know what I mean.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Never mind, Spider,” said Alex, “you’re my -friend, I see. Come and give this accordion -something to stretch on.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I ought to remember that boys are hollow,” -said Marjorie, straightening up, “after all my -experience with Donald and Will and Archie -Somers. Let’s go into the orchard near the old -well. It’s always so cool there.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>When lunch was all spread it looked so tempting -that the girls concluded that they could -manage to eat a few mouthfuls, and before long -there wasn’t a morsel of anything left. After -luncheon they sat awhile under the dear old -apple-trees, which were of the high, old-fashioned -kind, so that the grass grew thick and soft -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>beneath. The sunlight flecked the grass with -gold, the sky was deeply blue, and a slight breeze -had sprung up. Even the boys felt the quiet, -peaceful beauty of the wide, old orchard, and -were quite willing to rest for an hour, while -Marjorie and her sisters told merry tales of their -many escapades in dear old Kayuna.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Three o’clock,” yawned Jack Fleming, at -last. “We ought to go and see if those strawberries -are drying up, don’t you think?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“We ought to be about it, if we’re going to -take any home,” assented Marjorie; and they all -rose slowly and strolled to the garden again. -The berries were so large and so plentiful, that -in a very few minutes every basket was filled to -the brim.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Eunice, you and Cricket run down to the -farm-house and ask ’Manda for some big pails,” -ordered Marjorie, in true, older-sisterly fashion.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“All right,” answered Eunice, obediently. -“Come on, Cricket. Where is she? Crick-et!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here I am,” answered a forlorn little voice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Here,” was in the grape arbour near by. -Cricket was discovered sitting huddled up in a -little bunch, with her head on her knees.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Marjorie hurried across to her.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>“Why, poor little Cricket! What is the -matter?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nothing, I guess, ’cept my head aches so,” -Cricket replied, rather dismally. Her sunny -little face was very pale and her eyes looked -heavy and dark.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Poor child!” said Marjorie, sympathetically, -sitting down beside her. “It’s the hot sun, I -think. Come down to the farm-house with me, -and ’Manda will let you lie down for a while.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket looked doubtfully out into the sunlight. -From the garden it was not very far -across the field down to the farm-house, but the -sun looked very hot.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’d rather stay here, I think, Marjorie,” -she said, doubtfully, “my legs feel so wobbly.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“What’s the matter with the kid?” asked -Harold Gray, who was a big boy of fourteen, and -very fond of sunny little Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Nothing’s the matter, only my head aches -so,” Cricket tried to smile, but it was a very -watery attempt. She so seldom had a headache -that it seemed a very serious thing to her.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want her to go down to the farm-house and -lie down, but she doesn’t feel like walking -there,” explained Marjorie.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>“Is that all? That’s easily fixed. Here, -Jack, make a lady’s chair with me, to carry this -young lady in. Now, Marjorie, help my lady up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket stood up and the boys lowered their -hands.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now, then, put your arms around our -shoulders,” said Harold, as they raised the little -girl gently. “That’s right. Put your head -down on mine, if it ‘wobbles’” for Cricket’s -throbbing head refused to stay upright, and -bobbed helplessly down on Harold’s. Marjorie -ran ahead.</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda saw them coming, and stood at the -door ready to greet them.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I do declare, I’m proper glad to see you!” -she exclaimed, hospitably, to Marjorie. “’Gustus -John he was up to the stables a spell ago, -and he seen you all there a-pickin’ berries, ’n’ -he sez when he come in, ‘’Mandy,’ sez he, ‘I -ruther guess the children will be along down -bime-by.’ You see yer pa stopped here yesterday, -an’ he said that he ’lowed you’d kinder enjoy -comin’ out here to pick them berries, an’ -here ye be. La! what’s the matter with -Cricket? I ’lowed she wuz bein’ carried thet -way fur fun.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>The motherly soul was warmly welcoming the -children, while her kind tongue ran on.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Cricket has a bad headache, ’Manda,” answered -Marjorie; “will you let her lie down here -for a while?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Why, for the land’s sake! Poor little dear! -lie down on my sofy? why, of course she shall,” -and she had Cricket in her arms in a moment. -“You all sit right down here for a spell and -make yourselves perfectly to home, while I fix -up this poor little critter.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No, we won’t stay now, thank you,” said -Marjorie. “Could you let us have some large -pails to fill with berries? Papa says that -’Gustus John offered to bring our extra berries -to town for us to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Certain, sure, he did, my dear. You jest -go right in the but’try and git some of them big -pails a-settin’ right along side o’ the flour-barrel. -You know where ’tis, <i>I</i> guess. An’ Miss Marjorie, -git some o’ them fresh ginger-cakes I -baked this mornin’, they’re on the but’try shelf, -an’ find some milk, an’—”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, dear, no, thank you,” protested Marjorie, -laughing, “we’ve had plenty of luncheon, -and have filled up all the corners with berries. -We only want some pails.”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>“Now, Madge, Madge, young lady, speak for -yourself. I want to test Mrs. Hecker’s ginger-cakes -and milk, for my accordion’s began to -close,” said Alex.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Dear me!” cried Marjorie, in despair. -“We’ll have to feed you on dried apples and -water. They’ll fill you up, if nothing else will.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Not any, I thank you,” returned Alex, -quickly. “I’ve no desire to be a howling -swell.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda, meanwhile, had bustled off with -Cricket, into the cool, dark, little best-parlour, -and had laid her on the slippery hair-cloth sofa, -with its round, bolster-like pillow, about as -downy as if it were stuffed tight with sawdust. -But any place, quiet and dark, was grateful to -the poor little aching head, whose temples -throbbed in jerks that brought tears to the blue -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Marjorie tiptoed in, presently, to see if she -were comfortably fixed, before they went back -for their berries.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket opened her eyes in answer to Marjorie’s -inquiry. ’Manda had gone out of the -room for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Where’s Mamie Hecker?” whispered Cricket.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>“Don’t worry about her, dear. She’s gone -to spend a week with her Aunt Jane. You’re -safe.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh!” Cricket closed her eyes in great -relief, then opened them as she said, miserably, -“I can’t walk a step now, and I don’t believe I -could sit up in the car. I don’t see how I’m -going to get home.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“That’s all right,” said Marjorie, soothingly, -“for ’Gustus John is going to drive us to Porter’s -Inn, and if you’re well enough you will go -then, but if you don’t feel able, ’Manda wants -you to stay all night. They’ll send you to -town in the morning, with ’Gustus John. You -wouldn’t mind staying, would you?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, no,” said Cricket, feeling much too -badly to care about anything but lying still.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span> - <h2 class='c005'>CHAPTER XXX.<br /> <span class='large'>LEFT BEHIND.</span></h2> -</div> - -<p class='c009'>The children’s voices died away in the distance. -Presently the door opened carefully, -and ’Manda came in, with a big pillow and a -tumbler.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There, now, dearie,” she said, setting down -her tumbler, and slipping the big, soft pillow -under Cricket’s head. “That’s a sight better. -That sofy pillow, ’taint very soft. I’d hev taken -you right into my room an’ put you to bed, but -it’s awful hot there now, being right off the -kitchen so, ’n’ upstairs is hot, too. You’re a -little mite sick to your stomick, too, ain’t you? -I thought so. Now drink this lemonade, an’ it -will kinder stop that gnawin’ feeling quicker -nor a wink.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Lemonade?” repeated Cricket, lifting her -heavy eyes in surprise. “When I’m sick?” for -she associated, naturally, any illness with medicines. -“Won’t it hurt me?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Bless your little heart, no. It won’t hurt -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>you a mite. It’ll settle your stomick wonderful, -that’s all. ’Taint very sweet.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda slipped her hand under the pillow and -raised the aching head so gently that Cricket -scarcely felt it move. She drained the tumbler -obediently, though the lemonade <i>was</i> rather -sour. Then she nestled down into the soft -pillow with a sigh of relief. ’Manda sat by her, -waving a big palm-leaf fan, with a slow, even -motion. The silence and the darkness soon -began to soothe the throbbing pain, and Cricket -at last dropped into a fitful doze, that soon -became a sound sleep.</p> - -<p class='c010'>An hour passed, and ’Manda heard the children’s -voices as they came across the field again. -She tiptoed softly from the room,’sh-ing them -all, with uplifted finger.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“She’s jest dropped asleep, poor little mite,” -she said, in answer to their anxious, whispered -inquiries. “Yes, Miss Marjorie, you jest leave -her to-night, an’ ’Gustus John, he’ll fetch her -in town in the mornin’, all right.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sha’n’t I stay with her?” asked Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There ain’t no need, Miss Eunice, I’d be -proper glad to hev you, but there ain’t no need, -’less you particular wish it. I’ll jest admire to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>hev Cricket stay, and take care of her myself. -La, suz! there won’t be no need of anybody’s takin’ -care, I rather guess, for like’s not, when she -wakes up, her headache’ll be all gone, an’ prob’bly -by six o’clock she’ll be wantin’ to go after -the caows. No, Miss Eunice, you kin jest as -well as not go right along with the others, an’ be -sure an’ tell your ma that I jest <i>admire</i> to hev -Cricket stay.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I know you’ll take good care of her,” said -Marjorie, hesitating. “I only hope Cricket -won’t feel lonely or homesick when she wakes -up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, law! no; don’t you worrit now, Miss -Marjorie. She needs her sleep out, thet’s all. -The hot sun an’ the berries was too much for -her. What a sight of berries you’ve got! -Never wuz a better crop than this year. Pity -yer missin’ the season.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>The party looked with much satisfaction at -the result of their labours. Four six-quart -pails overflowing with luscious fruit stood in a -row on the steps, and besides that, their lunch -baskets were filled to the brim.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’m real sorry you told ’Gustus John that -you wasn’t goin’ to stop to have a bite of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>victuals with us, for here he comes now with -the team. Must you go?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“It’s after five,” answered Marjorie, “and it -will be nearly seven before we got home now. -Yes, we must go. Well, we are so much -obliged, ’Manda.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Well now, I’m sure you’ve no call to be. -You dunno how I’m goin’ to miss yer all this -summer. Don’t know what we’ll do without -you an’ Cricket an’ all your pranks,” added -’Manda, turning to Eunice.</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Gustus John and his big wagon came round -from the barn just then.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Pile in, young folks,” he said, cheerily. -“Tain’t a very handsome kerridge, but I guess -you’ll find it considerable better than walkin’ -over to Porter’s Inn, when you’re dead beat -out. All in? Oh, ’Mandy, give us some ginger-cakes -or sumthin’ to eat goin’ along, bein’ -as they won’t stay to set by.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Yes, I’ve a basket full all ready,” said -’Manda, producing one, amid the protests of the -children—even the “accordion” boys—that -they couldn’t eat another mouthful of anything.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“But I can’t go without seeing Cricket,” -exclaimed Marjorie, suddenly stopping.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>“Now, then, Miss Marjorie, I ain’t a-goin to -hev you disturbin’ the child,” said ’Manda, -hastily, who down in her heart was dreadfully -afraid that Cricket might wake up and want to -go home with the others, when she had set her -heart on having her stay. “She’ll sleep a good -spell yet, if she’s let to. You couldn’t do her -no good ef you did see her, an’ it might jest spile -her nap.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Perhaps it’s better not,” Marjorie said, -reluctantly. “I suppose that she will be all right -to-night anyway, though she scarcely ever had a -headache before in her life. And you’ll bring -her in to-morrow, ’Gustus John? I do hope -that she won’t mind being left.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Now don’t you fuss about that,” said ’Gustus -John. “’Manda, she thinks it’s a real Godsend, -bein’ as Mamie’s away. ’Mandy sets great -store by Cricket, you know. All ready now? -Off we go!”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Gustus John had promised to bring all the -big pails of berries in town when he went in the -next morning, so the children had only their -little baskets with them. Everybody was in -place now, and with many good-bys and thanks -to ’Manda, the merry party started.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>It was after five when ’Manda went bustling -back into the house to prepare supper. There -was no sound from the parlour yet, and she -concluded that Cricket was still sleeping.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I’ll jest take a peek at the little dear,” she -said, presently. “Like’s not she’s awake by -this time, and will want some supper.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda had always been devoted to Cricket. -She had lived with Mrs. Ward as nurse when -Cricket was a baby, and the little girl was more -than a year old when ’Manda married ’Gustus -John, the doctor’s farmer. So Cricket had -always been her especial pet.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She opened the parlour door gently and -looked in. Cricket opened her eyes with a -smile.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Oh, ’Manda! my head is ever so much better. -It doesn’t ache scarcely at all. Have the -others come in from the strawberry field yet?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“La, suz! yes, dear heart. They come and -went, mebbe half an hour ago. You wuz a -sleepin’ so nice that we didn’t like to wake you -up.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Gone!” exclaimed Cricket, feeling for the -first moment as if she were deserted on a desert -island. “Why, what am I going to do?”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>“You’re goin’ to stay with ’Manda to-night, -my pretty. That won’t be bad, will it?”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“No,” faltered Cricket, but she felt very forlorn -and homesick, nevertheless.</p> - -<p class='c010'>She loved kind ’Manda dearly, and since -Mamie was not there it was not quite so bad, -but she scarcely ever spent a night away from -home without her mother in her little life. -Cricket was such a “mother child.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>She sat up, but she found that her head still -felt a little faint and dizzy when she moved. -Two little tears crept up into her eyes. How -could she go to bed without mamma!</p> - -<p class='c010'>“I want my mother!” real sobs now.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“There, there, my pretty! don’t cry!” soothed -’Manda, much distressed, as she gathered her -nursling into her motherly arms.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Mommer ain’t here, but ’Mandy will take -such <i>good</i> care of you, an’ it’s jest fur to-night. -To-morrow mornin’, ’Gustus John, he’s got to -be off real early, an’ you’ll hev to be up with -the birds, I guess, an’ you’ll hev a bee-you-tiful -ride in town. An’ then,” ’Mandy went on, forgetting -that Cricket was not a baby, as she settled -her head more comfortably on her broad -bosom, “after tea, to-night, if your’s feelin’ reel -<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>smart, there ain’t nuthin’ to hender our takin’ a -little walk down to the village to see Hilda -Mason. She’s goin’ to miss you a sight this -summer.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>Cricket began to feel that the situation had -its advantages, after all. ’Manda’s lap was very -comfortable, her shoulder very soft and plump, -and her arms very loving, so that Cricket could -not stay forlorn long, especially when there was -the thought of seeing Hilda Mason so soon. So -she obeyed ’Manda’s advice to “chirk up,” and -soon felt like going out on the little front porch -to sit, while ’Manda finished getting supper.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Then ’Gustus John and the two “hired men” -came in, and with Sarah, the rosy-cheeked -“hired girl,” they all sat down to the cosey, -homely meal.</p> - -<p class='c010'>’Manda would not let Cricket sit with the -others, but she had put her in state at a little -square table near by, all by herself. The little -table was spread with ’Manda’s best china, to do -honour to her little guest, and special dainties in -the way of preserves and cake were set for her. -Cricket enjoyed her supper, with the “warmed-over” -potatoes, great slices of fresh bread and -butter, dried beef, cottage cheese and pickles, -cold meat, two kinds of preserves, berries and -three kinds of cake. Such a mixture, you will -say; but Cricket was hungry enough now to -taste a little of everything, and she enjoyed it all.</p> -<div id='ill_316' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span> -<img src='images/ill_316.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic001'> -<p>CRICKET AND ’MANDA.</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>By seven o’clock Cricket felt quite as well as -ever, and skipped and pranced, just as usual, -along the road that led to Hilda’s home, while -’Manda followed, one broad smile of content.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Hilda was more than delighted to see Cricket, -of course, and the little girls had a lovely time -together. Hilda had been invited to go over to -Marbury to stay for a week in August, with -Cricket, at grandma’s, and, of course, the children -were delighted to make arrangements for -that important visit.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was nine o’clock when Cricket and ’Manda -returned to the farm-house, in the moonlight. -It seemed odd enough not to go on up the hill -when they came to the little bridge, but instead -to turn in at the white gate, and Cricket felt a -little spasm of homesickness, which increased -when she was fairly inside the house, and ’Manda -lighted the candle for her to go upstairs. How -she did want mamma and Eunice! Fortunately, -she was really too tired now, to think very -much about anything but getting to bed.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>The funny little spare-room had a huge bedstead -in it, an old-fashioned one, with four -posts and curtains, and an immense feather bed -on it. When ’Manda lifted her up and swung -her over into it, she sank so far down, that the -sides rose on each side of her like billows, and -the sheet, spread across, did not touch her at -all. But she was in the Land of Nod almost -before she could say a sleepy “Good-night” to -kind ’Manda, and she knew nothing more.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was six o’clock, and broad daylight, of -course, when ’Manda came in to awaken her. -Sleepy Cricket could hardly realize that there -had been any night at all. She rubbed her -drowsy eyes open with much difficulty, and -’Manda helped her through her toilet. ’Gustus -John had to start for town by seven o’clock, -and the wagon already stood in the yard, loaded -up with vegetables and things for the market. -’Gustus John, himself, and one hired man, were -coming to the house with pails of foaming milk, -and another man was harnessing the big, black -horses to the wagon.</p> - -<p class='c010'>Breakfast was over at last. The pails of -strawberries were snugly tucked away under the -front seat, and everything was ready to start. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>’Manda gave her little guest many a parting hug -and kiss, and said she didn’t see how she ever -<i>was</i> going to stand it, not to have the doctor’s -family at Kayuna, and the children junketin’ -around, just the same as usual. Cricket hugged -and kissed her in return, and then ’Gustus John -swung her up on the high front seat, where she -sat, holding on to the back, with her feet swinging -above the pails of strawberries.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It always seemed delightfully dangerous on -that front seat where there was no dash-board, -and where there seemed to be nothing to prevent -her lurching down on the horses’ broad backs -if the wagon pitched over “thank-you-marms.” -’Gustus John, in his blue blouse and broad-brimmed -hat, climbed heavily up beside her, -gave a final glance over his load, cracked his -whip, and off they started with a sudden jerk -that brought Cricket’s toes very unexpectedly on -a level with her head, and nearly sent her pitching -back into the spring peas and asparagus.</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was a very different trip from the one they -had taken last fall. ’Manda’s parting word to -’Gustus John was that he must be careful and -not lose Cricket out, at which ’Gustus responded,—</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Sho!”</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>He never liked to be reminded of that accident. -The horses settled down to their farm-work -jog, not in the least like the brisk trot -they had when they were harnessed to the light -wagon. They knew quite well that they had a -load behind them and a long pull before them, -and took it easily.</p> - -<p class='c010'>The air was fresh and sweet, the birds twittered -and chirped, the morning dew lay like -diamonds on the grass, and Cricket, who, as we -know, had a special delight in rising early, drew -a long breath of pleasure. She chattered gayly -away, and ’Gustus John, in turn, told her exciting -tales of that wonderful time of long ago—“When -I was a little boy.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>It was not yet nine when the wagon clattered -over the long bridge, and they were fairly in -town. They had to go more slowly then. They -drove to May Chester’s first to leave her strawberries, -Cricket pointing out the way, then to -Jack Fleming’s and the Grays’. Then they -turned into the home-street and drew up before -her own door. Cricket felt, as ’Gustus John -lifted her down from her high perch, that she -must have made a trip to Europe, for it seemed so -long since she had left there, yesterday morning.</p> - -<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>“I’m so much obliged to you for this lovely -ride, ’Gustus John,” she said, as they went up -the steps, ’Gustus carrying her berries. “I’ve -had the elegantest time riding in this morning -and having you tell me stories.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Wal, now, I tell you,” said ’Gustus John, -“I’d give considerbul down, ef I had yer to ride -in with me every time I come to the city. We’d -hev purty snug times, wouldn’t we, eh? Good-by. -Remember me to yer pa and ma. Good-by.”</p> - -<p class='c010'>And Cricket, throwing him a kiss from the -tips of her fingers, vanished in the house.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>THE END.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'> - -<div class='chapter ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - - <ol class='ol_1 c003'> - <li>Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. - - </li> - <li>Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CRICKET ***</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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - 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 <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> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - </body> - <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.57c on 2022-02-18 04:06:21 GMT --> -</html> diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f07257d..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_001.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_001.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 20b38b1..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_001.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_024.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_024.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index eda03e4..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_024.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_056.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_056.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6464b41..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_056.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_088.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_088.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b82a821..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_088.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_134.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_134.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ea4c895..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_134.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_164.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_164.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 731cb71..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_164.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_208.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_208.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 63d0d84..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_208.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67430-h/images/ill_316.jpg b/old/67430-h/images/ill_316.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b013125..0000000 --- a/old/67430-h/images/ill_316.jpg +++ /dev/null |
