diff options
Diffstat (limited to '75627-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 75627-0.txt | 3902 |
1 files changed, 3902 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/75627-0.txt b/75627-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0516a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/75627-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3902 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75627 *** + + +[Illustration: LOIS AND ELLEN BRINGING HOME A GERANIUM FOR JESSIE + (_Page 8_)] + + + + + + A + BORROWED SISTER + + BY + ELIZA ORNE WHITE + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + KATHARINE PYLE + + [Illustration] + + BOSTON AND NEW YORK + HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY + The Riverside Press Cambridge + + + + + COPYRIGHT 1906 BY ELIZA ORNE WHITE + + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE + THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM + + The Riverside Press + CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS + PRINTED IN THE U.S.A. + + + + + TO + + M. L. A. + + AND HER DAUGHTER ELIZABETH THIS BOOK + IS AFFECTIONATELY + DEDICATED + + + + +CONTENTS + + + I. JESSIE COMES 1 + + II. THE WITCH KITTEN 11 + + III. BRIERFIELD 20 + + IV. BARBARA FRIETCHIE 31 + + V. A SUMMER EXCHANGE 43 + + VI. THE STORM AT HOLLISFORD 55 + + VII. THE VEGETABLE TEA-PARTY 65 + + VIII. THE TREE THAT GREW IN THE PAGES’ GARDEN 75 + + IX. MRS. DRAPER’S DARNING-CLASS 84 + + X. A RED LETTER DAY 91 + + XI. GRANDMOTHER LOIS 103 + + XII. THE HOUSE WHERE NOTHING HAPPENED 111 + + XIII. THE TRIO CLUB 121 + + XIV. A WINTER PICNIC 129 + + XV. THE CHRISTMAS TREE 140 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + LOIS AND ELLEN BRINGING HOME A GERANIUM FOR JESSIE + (PAGE 8) _Frontispiece_ + + “ANNE AND I HAVE A VEGETABLE GARDEN” 24 + + HER RUBBERS WERE BOATS 58 + + THE TRIO CLUB 128 + + + + +A BORROWED SISTER + + + + +CHAPTER I + +JESSIE COMES + + +Lois Page, who had been an only child all her life, was to have a +borrowed sister for the space of a year or more, and the prospect +filled her with keen delight. If she had searched the wide world over +she could not have found a more congenial sister than Jessie Matthews. +Lois was equally fond of Ellen Morgan, and Ellen was a more stimulating +friend, but Ellen had an uncertain temper, which would make living with +her a torment, as well as a joy, while Jessie was as serene as a summer +morning. + +There was only one person who was not wholly satisfied with the +arrangement, and this was Ellen. She sat on the edge of one of the beds +in Lois’s room, and criticised her arrangements in an aggravating way, +while Lois was clearing out two drawers in her bureau. + +“I should think you would rather have Jessie in the spare room,” said +Ellen finally. “It is dreadful to have so little room for one’s things.” + +Lois, with a pile of petticoats in her arms, looked up in surprise. + +“Why, that’s the joy of it all, Ellen. That’s the best part. Always +having somebody to talk to when you go to bed, and when you wake up in +the morning. You’ve always had a sister, and so you don’t understand +how lonely it is to be all by yourself. It is the loveliest thing that +ever happened to me,” she added, with strong emphasis. + +Ellen had borne as much as she could. “I think it is perfectly horrid,” +said she. + +Lois was pulling open the lower drawer in the bureau and crowding in +the petticoats. She looked up in bewildered surprise. + +“I thought you loved Jessie,” she said. + +“I like her well enough,” returned Ellen, who was in truth very fond of +Jessie, “but I think it is perfectly horrid for you to have her living +with you. You’ll have such a good time every single minute that you +won’t care any more about me.” + +Lois came over and sat down on the edge of the bed and put her arms +around Ellen. “Why, Ellen, you dear thing!” she exclaimed. Lois loved +her friends so intensely that it never seemed possible they could care +equally for her, and this admission from the self-reliant Ellen, who +was such a favorite, filled her with an amazed joy. + +“I shall care just as much for you,” Lois said. “It will be the same +as it is with you and Anne. And there will be four of us to do things +together.” + +“I shall expect to play with you every single day,” said Ellen. + +“Why, of course.” + +“And I don’t want you to like Jessie any better than you like me; I +couldn’t stand that. I know she’s ever so much nicer, and I don’t see +how you can help it.” + +“I love you both dearly,” said Lois. + +After this the atmosphere was cleared, and Ellen began to take an +interest in the preparation of Lois’s closet. + +“Do you think she’ll like the right-hand side or the left-hand side +best?” asked Lois, who always needed a great deal of advice from her +friends. + +“The right-hand side is lots more convenient, because it is over next +the shelves.” + +“But the left-hand side has that extra row of hooks across the end, and +she has so many more dresses than I have.” + +Lois paused irresolutely, with a pink frock in one hand and a brown one +in the other. + +“I don’t see how you ever get anything done, it takes you so long to +decide,” said Ellen impatiently. + +“It does take me a good while,” Lois admitted apologetically. + +Her tone softened Ellen, and she helped Lois move her dresses, deciding +that Jessie should have rather more than half of the right-hand side of +the closet. + +Lois and Ellen wanted to do all they could to make Jessie’s arrival a +cheerful one. + +“I am going to the greenhouse to buy some flowers for Jessie,” Ellen +said. “She loves flowers. Won’t you come with me?” + +The two children went out into the world that was beginning to be made +over new by a gentle April shower. Lois reflected, as she closed the +door, that it was almost a year from the first time that she and Ellen +had met. Lois remembered how lonely she had been because Daisy, her +best friend, had gone away forever, and then almost as soon as the door +closed to shut Daisy out, it opened to let Ellen in. Lois felt very +thankful and happy, as they went along the village street. They stopped +at Ellen’s house and unlocked a battered bank that she had owned for +many years. She had refused to have Lois go shares with her in the +matter of the flowers, and so Lois quietly dropped in a ten-cent piece +through the slit in the top while Ellen was taking out two ten-cent +pieces from the door at the back. + +“Lois Page!” she protested. “I wanted it to be all my present.” + +“It is,” said Lois. “But I guess I’ve a right to put my money in a +savings’ bank, if I like. It is a good safe bank.” + +Ellen had so little money that Lois could not bear to have her squander +twenty cents so recklessly. + +Ellen’s formidable brothers were coming in at the gate as the two +little girls were going out. In the winter, when Lois had stayed under +the Morgans’ hospitable roof, she had grown to be good friends with +these boys, but now that she had not seen them for some time her old +shyness returned. + +“Hullo,” said Amyas and Reuben. + +“Hullo,” said Lois in a faint voice. She dropped her eyes and did not +look at them as she and Ellen passed through the gate. + +When the children reached the greenhouse they were speechless at first +in their admiration, for there was such a brilliant array of flowers. + +“What are you going to get for Jessie?” Lois inquired. + +“Pink roses,” said Ellen, who generally had her mind made up. She +glanced at a jar full of them as she spoke. “How much are they a +dozen?” she asked. + +“Two dollars,” replied the black-haired girl behind the counter. + +“Two dollars!” Ellen’s face fell. “Then six would be a dollar,” she +added after a moment’s hesitation. + +“Yes.” + +“And for twenty cents”--the calculation was too intricate. Ellen looked +up with a puzzled frown. “How many could I have for twenty cents?” + +“One. They are twenty cents apiece.” + +“Only one rose for twenty cents! And it would fade so soon!” said Ellen. + +Lois had her nose buried in the roses. “Oh, Ellen, they are so lovely!” +she exclaimed. “It seems as if just one rose was lovelier than a lot of +anything else.” + +But Ellen did not think so. + +“You can get a whole plant for twenty cents,” said the girl, “and it +could be set out in the garden later and last all summer.” + +A whole living, growing plant for the same price as a single evanescent +rose! How incredible that seemed! The children wandered around the +greenhouse, looking first at one plant and then at another; even Ellen +was for once undecided. There were fragrant hyacinths in bud and +blossom, pink ones, white ones, and others of a beautiful shade of +lilac, and lilac was Jessie’s color; but the hyacinths, while perfect +for the moment, would be out of blossom soon. Lois was attracted by a +Marguerite, with its delicate white petals and yellow centre. It looked +like Jessie, she said. + +“It looks just like a common field daisy,” objected Ellen, who was in +an obstinate mood and preferred to choose her own plant. She went over +to the other end of the greenhouse, where the geraniums were. They were +stocky little plants; most of them were in blossom or in bud. There +were pink geraniums and dark red ones, besides several of a brilliant +scarlet. Lois looked at them irresolutely, but Ellen instantly set her +affections on a scarlet geranium, with two gorgeous blossoms, as a +concession to the present, as well as a bud of promise. + +“I should like that one,” she said. + +“That is twenty-five cents.” + +“That is the one I want,” repeated Ellen firmly, “but I’ve only got +twenty cents.” It seemed to her that nothing else in life would satisfy +her but this one geranium, with its full and perfect flowers. + +“You can have any of these for twenty cents,” said the girl, indicating +an inferior group. + +“This is a nice one; it has three buds,” said Lois. + +“It is all right for you who are going to live in the house with it, +but I want it to look beautiful when I give it to her. I want that +one,” said Ellen, “and I don’t want any other, and I only want to pay +twenty cents.” + +The girl looked at Ellen, she saw determination written all over her +eager face and shining out from her dark eyes, and she remembered her +own childhood not so many years ago. + +“I guess if my father was here he’d let you have that geranium for +twenty cents,” she said. + +Ellen’s eyes shone, and she paid over her two ten-cent pieces and +hastily seized her property. + +When they reached Lois’s room, Ellen put the red geranium on a little +table in front of the wide window. There were white muslin curtains +tied back with white cords and tassels. The walls were a soft gray, and +although the cushion on the window seat was many-hued, and so were the +rugs, the general effect was more subdued than Ellen liked, and this +blaze of scarlet pleased her. + +A little later they heard the sound of horses’ hoofs and wheels in the +distance. + +“She is coming! She is coming!” cried Lois, and Ellen had a bitter pang +at the rapture of that tone. + +It was only the ice-cart lumbering down the street. + +The children were in the parlor with their faces pressed close against +the window. A bright fire was burning on the hearth and Lois’s mother +sat before it with her sewing. + +Here Jessie was at last! The carriage stopped at the gate, and a +golden-haired girl alighted, and came swiftly along the walk. Ellen and +Lois ran out to meet her. Lois flung her arms about Jessie. + +“You dear, dear thing!” she said. “It is so good to have you here!” + +Then she looked at Jessie, and saw that her face was wet with tears, +and she remembered that this day, which was the happiest in her own +life, was perhaps the saddest in Jessie’s, for she had just parted from +her father and mother, who were to sail for Europe on account of her +father’s ill health. + +Lois felt very shy and could not say anything more. Her own joy seemed +positively wrong. + +Jessie smiled bravely through her tears. + +“It is so lovely to be coming to live with you, Lois,” she said, “and +it was dear of you, Ellen, to be here to meet me.” + +Jessie put one arm around Lois and the other around Ellen. Ellen did +not feel any longer that Jessie was to separate them; it seemed instead +as if they would all three be drawn more closely together. + +“Lois and I have bought a scarlet geranium for you, Jessie.” + +It was impossible to keep back this great announcement any longer. + +“It was your present,” said Lois. + +Ellen no longer wanted to have the whole glory of the gift. + +“It was our present,” she said; “you know you put your money in my +bank.” + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE WITCH KITTEN + + +The first evening was the cosiest that Lois had ever known. It seemed +like a party, having three at supper instead of two. Lois looked across +the table at Jessie, and thought how wonderful it was that she was not +merely spending one night with them, as she often did, but at least a +year of nights. + +After tea, when they sat before the fire in the parlor, Mrs. Page began +to read Scott’s “Talisman” aloud, and only those who are used to being +the solitary audience can know the rapture of sharing the pleasure with +another listener. Even when not a word was said it was an intense joy +just to look across at Jessie’s expressive face. Presently a piercing +mew was heard, and Lois opened the door for Minnie, her cat. Minnie had +been spending her evenings in Lois’s lap of late. + +“Sweetheart,” Lois said remorsefully, “it was too bad that I forgot all +about you. She is perfectly devoted to me,” she explained to Jessie; +“sometimes I will find her waiting by my chair, and the moment I sit +down she hops into my lap.” + +“The dear little thing!” said Jessie. “Come, Minnie,” she called +caressingly, “come and say good evening to me. I am going to live here +now.” + +Then a strange thing happened; Minnie, the constant, devoted Minnie, +walked across the room, past Lois, and jumped into Jessie’s lap. + +“Dear, friendly little pussy,” said Jessie. + +“She likes the chair you are in, and your gown is woollier than +Lois’s,” said Mrs. Page practically. + +“Oh, mother, you don’t understand Minnie,” protested Lois. “She knows +how nice Jessie is, and she wants to make her feel at home.” + +Nevertheless it was something of a trial to have Minnie’s affections +divided with another. + +That night after they went to bed the two children talked so late that +Mrs. Page finally came to the door and stopped them by saying that if +they were going to talk so long every night she should have to put +Jessie in the spare room. Early in the morning the happy chatter began +again, and Mrs. Page noticed what a different expression her little +girl had as she came into the dining-room with her arm around Jessie’s +waist. Jessie was almost a year older than Lois and she was much +taller. She was not pretty, but she had such a wholesome, bright face +that her friends never thought of her as plain, and then her golden +hair was a great attraction. Lois wished that she herself had golden +hair. She had said so that morning, as Jessie stood before the bureau +brushing her yellow locks. + +“Would you like my nose and my freckles as well as my hair?” Jessie +asked, turning around with a smile, “because, if you would, I should be +glad to give them to you.” + +“Oh, Jessie, you dear, dear thing!” said Lois, giving her a hug. + +And so the new order began, and as the happy days sped by, Mrs. Page +rejoiced in the success of her experiment. As for Jessie herself, it +was hard at first to get used to the contracted life in a country town, +for heretofore her time had been divided between New York and the free +out-of-door life of Brierfield Farm, three miles from the village. When +the spring days began to lengthen and the buds to swell, and the birds +found their way back from the south, Jessie often longed for the house +on the edge of the woods, for the pony on which she rode bare-back, for +her faithful collie dog, but most of all for her light-hearted father +and mother and her older sister, with whom she had wandered through the +fields and woods as contentedly as if they were of her own age. Now all +was sadly changed, for her father, who was once the merriest of the +company, was under the dark cloud of illness, and the ocean divided her +from him and her mother, while Cicely was at Bryn Mawr. + +Gradually, however, Jessie adjusted herself to life under the new +conditions, and as she was very fond both of Lois and Mrs. Page, she +soon felt entirely at home. + +Everything conspired to make her feel so, even Minnie, who added to the +good cheer of the household by presenting the family with a pair of +kittens. + +If kittens were not quite the absorbing interest to Lois that they had +been before Jessie came, they were a great event, and she and Jessie +visited the wood-cellar with joy. Mrs. Page said that each of the +children could have a kitten for her own, until it was old enough to be +given away. + +Now there was not the slightest doubt that one kitten was so much +prettier than the other that Lois had a struggle in her own mind as to +whether to give Jessie the beauty of the family or to keep it. As an +only child everything had formerly revolved around Lois, and now there +was always some one else to be considered,--not that this fact in the +least dampened her pleasure in Jessie’s society. + +“This one is the prettiest,” said Lois, holding up a white and gray +kitten beautifully marked. “See her little white face with the gray +hair parted in the middle, and the gray shawl on her back that looks as +if it were just tumbling off. It is that lovely, silvery gray like blue +fox.” + +“Yes, it is one of the prettiest kittens I ever saw,” said Jessie. + +“The other isn’t very pretty,” said Lois. “Of course I always love +tiger cats, but it isn’t marked so prettily as Minnie is; it has a +smoochy, mixed-up face.” + +“No, it isn’t so pretty, but it is a dear,” said Jessie. + +Lois nerved herself for a great sacrifice. “Jessie, you must have the +maltese and white kitten,” she said. + +“I? Oh, no, Minnie isn’t my cat. I don’t mind, truly, which I have. +Anything in the shape of a darling furry kitten will suit me.” + +“And you really don’t mind?” Lois began slowly. + +“Why, of course I don’t. What difference does it make so long as they +are both here?” + +Now it made a great deal of difference to Lois, for she liked to have a +thing for her very own. For a fortnight the kittens led a placid life +in the wood-cellar, and then they were moved up into the play-room, +where Lois had her doll house. It was then that the children began to +get the real good of the kittens. + +“There is something very queer about your kitten’s front paws,” said +Lois to Jessie one afternoon. “They look so big and clumsy.” + +“Why, it has got two more toes than it ought to have!” Jessie exclaimed. + +It made Lois feel uncomfortable to see these extra toes. It was as if a +person had five fingers and two thumbs. + +“It was so dark in the wood-cellar I never noticed. Poor Jessie! Don’t +you want to change?” + +“No, indeed! It is my kitten. If I had a child that turned out to be +funny-looking I wouldn’t want to change it, and besides, why shouldn’t +you have the best-looking kitten?” + +“But it seems so selfish of me,” sighed Lois. + +“Don’t let’s say anything more about it.” + +“Does it make you feel crawly to see its six toes?” Lois asked +anxiously. + +“No, I think it is quite interesting. It is so unlike any one else’s +kitten.” + +Lois always preferred things that were just like other people’s, but +she was thankful that Jessie felt differently. + +Presently Mr. Morgan, Ellen’s father, came to make a call. Mrs. Page +was out, but Lois and Jessie saw him coming up the steps. Mr. Morgan +was one of the few people of whom Lois was not afraid. She had loved +him dearly ever since she had first seen him, a year ago. + +“He is going away. Maggie hasn’t told him we are in,” she said in a +disappointed voice. + +“He is probably making a lot of parish calls, and can’t stop to bother +with children,” said Jessie. + +“I am sure if he knew I was at home he would want to see me.” Lois ran +down the stairs and out of the front door and caught up with him, just +as he reached the gate. + +“Oh, Mr. Morgan, please come back,” she cried breathlessly. “Jessie and +I are at home, and there are some kittens I know you would like to see. +We are your parishioners just as much as mother is,” she added. + +“Well, if I have new parishioners, for the kittens are new, I suppose, +I shall surely have to come back, for I always make it a rule to call +on new parishioners the first fortnight after they come to town.” + +Lois laughed. “I meant that Jessie and I are your parishioners,” she +explained gayly. + +“Well, Jessie,” said Mr. Morgan, taking both her hands in his, “it is a +great pleasure to have you so near us. And now I am to see the kittens?” + +“We’ll bring them down to you,” said Jessie. + +“Minnie would be nearly out of her mind if we did. You won’t mind +coming upstairs, will you, Mr. Morgan?” Lois asked. + +“I want you to find a name for my kitten,” Lois said after they reached +the play-room. “You gave Gem and Jane such beautiful names.” + +She handed him the lovely gray and white one. + +“What a beauty this is!” he said. “It seems to have on a chinchilla +shawl, like the one my aunt used to wear. Suppose you call her +Chinchilla. Chilly will make a good nickname.” + +“The other is Jessie’s,” Lois told him. “It is rather plain and it has +six toes.” + +Mr. Morgan inspected the small morsel of fur gravely. + +“It is a witch kitten,” he announced. “How fortunate you are, Jessie! +A double-pawed kitten is always supposed to bring its possessor the +rarest luck. Suppose you call it Mittens. I had a witch cat named +Mittens when I was a boy.” + +“And did you have great luck?” Lois asked. She was already beginning +to wish that the double-pawed kitten belonged to her, but speedily +stifled this selfish thought, for dear Jessie deserved all the luck she +could get. + +“Yes. I had a very serious illness while he was with us.” + +“I don’t call that good luck,” Lois said dolefully. + +“Perhaps you would have died if it hadn’t been for the witch kitten,” +Jessie suggested, with a smile. + +“That was the way I looked at it,” said Mr. Morgan gravely. “Then our +barn caught on fire, and part of it burned, but we got the animals out +and the house did not catch. There was the witch kitten again. If it +hadn’t been for him we might have lost everything; and I had trouble +with my eyes that year, and had to leave school, and the out-of-door +life made me strong and healthy. Altogether, there was no end to the +debt of gratitude that I owed that kitten, for without him I might have +thought I was unlucky.” + +Jessie gave Mittens a little squeeze. “I am so glad I have a witch +kitten,” she said. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BRIERFIELD + + +It seemed to Lois and Jessie as if spring would never come, for there +was an April snowstorm a few days after Jessie arrived, and the snow +lingered on the north side of the house and in the woods; gradually, +however, it disappeared, and the green began to creep over the hills +and meadows. + +At last there came such a warm April morning that Jessie said, “Spring +has really come! I am sure the mayflowers are out on the hill back of +Brierfield. Oh! dear Aunt Elizabeth, mayn’t we have the carriage this +afternoon and all drive over to Brierfield and pick them?” + +Jessie’s coming had made a great change already. Formerly Mrs. Page +used to have to urge Lois to go out, unless some child came to play +with her, but now she found it hard to get the children to come in even +at mealtimes. One of the changes that Jessie’s coming brought, was the +use of the horses that had been left at Brierfield. Whenever Mrs. Page +wanted a drive she had only to go to the telephone and order a horse +to appear at a certain hour. The telephone had been a parting gift from +Mrs. Matthews to Lois’s mother. + +“Please, Aunt Elizabeth, can’t we go?” Jessie persisted. + +Mrs. Page was busy finishing a spring frock for Lois. + +“I am afraid I oughtn’t to go this afternoon,” she said. “I have the +rest of my seeds to plant, and I want to finish this dress so that Lois +can wear it to church to-morrow. We might go next Saturday.” + +“It may rain next Saturday,” Jessie objected, “and I am afraid the +mayflowers will be through blossoming.” + +“I don’t mind wearing my winter dress all the spring,” said Lois. + +Mrs. Page hesitated. Perhaps, after all, it was better to give the +children this pleasure, for spring only comes once a year. + +“We will go this afternoon,” she decided, “and you children may come +into the garden with me this morning while I plant the seeds.” + +A little later they went out into the sunny garden, and the children +helped Mrs. Page make a trench for her nasturtium seeds. + +“Please, dear Aunt Elizabeth, mayn’t Lois and I have a garden, just a +small one?” begged Jessie. “I always had one at home, to plant anything +I liked in, and one year I mixed flower seeds and vegetable seeds +together, and squashes and nasturtiums and melons and poppies came up +side by side.” + +Mrs. Page laughed. “If I give you and Lois each a bed I shall want +you to make them as pretty as possible, so as to be an ornament to my +garden,” she said. + +Mrs. Page’s slender figure was enveloped in a brown linen apron with +pockets, in which were packages of seeds. Even in the brown apron +she looked more dainty than most people did in their best clothes, +Lois thought. Lois’s mind had been reveling in wild combinations of +vegetables and flowers, and it was a disappointment to find that their +gardens must conform to the rule of their well-ordered lives. + +“Don’t you think it would be nice, mother, to have flowers in the +middle, and a border of melons and squashes?” she ventured. + +“No, I think you will find a flower garden is enough to keep you busy. +You know you will have to weed it.” + +Lois made a little grimace. + +Mrs. Page always spent a great deal of time in her garden, and she had +often tried to induce Lois to help her weed, but Lois was always sure +to remember some very important thing that had to be done at once. In +Jessie, however, Mrs. Page found a garden companion after her own heart. + +She gave the children a variety of seeds. Jessie had a decided +plan, but Lois did not know how she wanted to arrange her bed, and +finally copied Jessie. They planted mignonette and pansy seed in a +border around the beds, and inside they put a glorious mixture of +seeds,--nasturtiums, verbenas, portulacas, poppies, and cosmos. They +could hardly wait, they were in such a hurry for everything to come up +and blossom. They had almost finished planting the seeds when Ellen +Morgan joined them. She was on her way home from the village, where she +had been doing some errands for her mother, and her hands were full of +small bundles. + +“Mother’s in an awful hurry for these things,” she said, “so I can’t +stop, but I just wanted to know if you and Jessie can come to play with +me this afternoon.” + +“We can’t, because we are going to drive over to Brierfield,” said Lois. + +Ellen looked very much disappointed. + +She sat down on the end of a bench and asked what they were planting. + +“Anne and I have a vegetable garden,” Ellen told them. “It isn’t as +pretty as a flower garden, but we expect to have lovely things to +eat,--melons and cucumbers and squashes. We are going to have a party +when all the vegetables are ripe” (Ellen had thought of this on the +spur of the moment), “and we’ll invite you.” + +“How nice!” Lois was already tasting the melons in imagination. “We +wanted some melons and squashes in our garden,” she said regretfully, +“but mother thought they would spoil the looks of the flower beds.” + +“Ellen, I am afraid you ought to be going home, if your mother is in a +hurry for those things,” said Mrs. Page, “but why can’t you come back +and dine here, and go to Brierfield with us this afternoon?” + +“Oh, Mrs. Page, how perfectly lovely!” said Ellen ecstatically. + +She rose, but lingered to play with Minnie, who came along at the +moment. + +When Ellen finally reached home she ran up to the room where her +mother was at work with a seamstress, dumped the parcels in a heap on +the table, and said breathlessly, “Mother, I’m going to dine with the +Pages and we are going to drive to Brierfield and pick mayflowers this +afternoon.” + +[Illustration: “ANNE AND I HAVE A VEGETABLE GARDEN”] + +“How delightful!” exclaimed Mrs. Morgan, looking up from her sewing. +“That is why it took Ellen three quarters of an hour to go to the +village,” she thought. “You can take the sugar down to Almira,” she +said. “She is waiting for it.” + +In the kitchen Ellen’s mind was distracted by some very fat raisins +that Almira was stoning, and when she found what the dessert was to +be, she was almost sorry she had promised to dine at the Pages’. She +consoled herself, however, by eating a handful of the raisins. + +From the kitchen window Ellen had a view of the vegetable garden that +was to be such a source of joy to them later, and she suddenly had a +bright idea. When she returned to the Pages’ she had some choice seeds +in her pocket, and before they started on the drive she went out into +the garden all by herself, on the pretense of finding Minnie. Hastily +glancing around to make sure that no one was looking, she put half the +seeds in the centre of Lois’s bed, and the other half in the middle of +Jessie’s. Her face broke into a mischievous smile. + +“I guess they’ll have a nice surprise,” she thought. + +As they were starting on the drive, she suddenly gave a chuckle. + +“What are you laughing at, Ellen?” asked Lois. + +“I am laughing because I am so very happy,” Ellen answered. + +“It didn’t sound like that kind of a laugh,” said Lois. + +“Isn’t it fortunate Ellen happened to come along to-day,” she added; +“we’ve had a lot of luck since the witch kitten came.” + +“Let’s take the witch kitten with us,” said Ellen, “then we shall be +sure to find lots of mayflowers.” + +“My dear Ellen!” gasped Mrs. Page. + +“I am afraid the kitten and Jessie’s dog wouldn’t agree very well,” +said Lois. + +“Joy is very gentle. I wish, Aunt Elizabeth, that you would let me take +Joy back with us just for a day or two,” Jessie pleaded. + +“That wouldn’t be safe. Joy may be gentle, but Minnie is not; she is +very fierce when she is taking care of her kittens.” + +“Why do you call her Aunt Elizabeth?” asked Ellen. “She isn’t any +relation to you, is she?” + +“She and my mother were friends when they were little girls.” + +“Oh,” said Ellen. She felt very much “out of it.” + +They were already reaching the outskirts of the town, and very soon +they came to a stretch of wood road. It made Lois feel so happy to see +the tiny leaf-buds and to watch some birds flying overhead, that it +almost seemed as if she must cry out, “Spring is here! spring is here! +and afterwards will come summer, and there won’t be any icy winter for +a very long time!” + +But Lois’s delight was even greater when they were climbing the wooded +hill behind Brierfield farm. Ellen shouted with joy, and Jessie felt +like some wild thing that had escaped from a cage. The children thought +there never had been such a spring day. The sky was blue, with just +a few fleecy clouds floating in it, and the tall pines and fir-trees +made such a thick green shelter that it seemed as if summer had come. +There was the resinous smell of the pines and of the fir balsams and +hemlocks, the soft green of the moss, and, most delicious of all, the +delicate fragrance of the mayflowers. Jessie was the first to find +them; she held up a long spray of pink blossoms and gave it to Mrs. +Page. + +Ellen immediately pulled some up by the roots. + +“You mustn’t do that,” said Jessie. “Father never lets us pull any +roots, for if we do, the mayflowers will soon die out.” + +Suddenly there was an addition to their company. A yellow and white dog +came running up the path, and presently there was the mingling of furry +paws and childish arms. + +“Joy, you darling, did you know my voice?” said Jessie. The collie had +leaped upon her, and was licking her face with passionate devotion. She +put her arms around his neck, and her tears rained upon his head. + +“She loves Joy just as much as I love Minnie,” thought Lois. + +They stayed in the pine woods until Mrs. Page and Jessie had their +baskets full of mayflowers, and Ellen and Lois had half filled theirs, +for they had taken several excursions, and there had been a great deal +to look at and to talk about. + +“I suppose if we are to stop at Brierfield for a cup of tea, we ought +to be going,” said Mrs. Page, looking at her watch. + +The parlor at Brierfield was a long room, with a low ceiling with brown +rafters. Even in its half-dismantled state, it looked more attractive +to Jessie than any room she had ever seen. There were no curtains at +the windows now, but one could see the woods and the hills all the +better, and although the sofas and chairs had on linen covers, nothing +could disguise their quaint, old-fashioned shape. The rugs had been put +away, but the books were left in the low bookcases, and a bright fire +was burning on the hearth, and near it was a little tea-table. There +was a gap in the room where the grand piano had once been, that was now +blocking up Mrs. Page’s small parlor, where it had gone in order that +Jessie might keep on with her music lessons. + +Presently Emmeline, the farmer’s wife and the care-taker, brought in a +waiter with tea and lemon and little cakes. + +“Emmeline!” cried Jessie, and she threw her arms about the old servant. + +“How d’ye do, Miss Jessie? You look real well. I guess it agrees with +you to live with Miss Lois.” + +After she had had a talk with Emmeline, Mrs. Page gave the children hot +lemonade, with plenty of sugar and just a dash of tea. + +Joy planted himself at Jessie’s feet and she fed him with portions of +her cake. When she had no more he went around to Lois. She was afraid +of all dogs, and felt very uncomfortable as he fixed his beseeching +eyes on her. Presently he touched her with his paw. She hastily dropped +the rest of her cake and moved back. + +“I guess you’d have been frightened away by the big spider all right, +if you had been little Miss Muffet,” said Ellen. “Come here, Joy. I am +not a bit afraid of you.” + +Joy came. He jumped up on Ellen and began to lick her face. + +“I didn’t say I wanted you to kiss me,” said Ellen. “Get down! Jessie, +make him get down.” + +Jessie only laughed. “You shouldn’t have invited him to come, if you +hadn’t wanted him,” she said. + +“I wish we could come to these woods every Saturday, mother,” said +Lois, as they drove away. + +Mrs. Page felt, as the children did, as if she had not had such a happy +afternoon for a very long time. + +“There is always so much that ought to be done,” she sighed. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +BARBARA FRIETCHIE + + +All through this happy spring there was only one part of Lois’s life +that she did not enjoy, and this was school; for it seemed such a waste +of sunny hours, when the birds were singing and the trees were coming +into leaf, and the seeds in the garden were beginning to sprout, to +have to leave this delightful out-of-door world and shut one’s self up +for hours in a stuffy room, and have tiresome lessons in numbers, or +draw maps, or read aloud. The garden was altogether too interesting to +leave. They could almost see the plants grow from day to day. + +“There are a lot of queer things coming up in the middle of my bed, +where I meant to plant my fuchsia,” said Lois one morning. “What can +they be? They don’t look like weeds.” + +“And I have some funny things in the centre of mine, too,” said Jessie, +“just where I meant to put my scarlet geranium.” + +“That’s a pretty thing,” said Lois. + +“It looks as if it were going to be a cucumber vine,” said Jessie, +who was something of a farmer, “but I don’t see how it could have got +there.” + +A few days later, the superior knowledge of Mrs. Page and Joe Mills, +the gardener, was all that was needed to show that these intruders were +cucumber vines, squash vines, and melons. + +“Ellen must have planted them there,” said Lois. “Don’t you remember, +when we went to Brierfield, she went down into the garden to find +Minnie, and how she laughed afterwards, because she was so happy, she +said? I knew it wasn’t that kind of a laugh.” + +Lois could hardly wait until the next morning to see Ellen. Unluckily +Ellen was a little late at school, and the other children were all in +their seats when she came in very fast and flushed, as if she had run +all the way. Ellen had a desk on the right-hand side of Lois now, and +Lois looked across at her and smiled. She meant that smile to say, “I +have so much to talk about at recess, that I can hardly wait.” + +Ellen smiled too, then she cautiously took a piece of paper and a +pencil out of her desk. She held them so that Lois could see them, and +then partly covered them with her hand. As soon as Miss Benton was +busy with one of the classes, Ellen handed the paper and pencil to +Lois. “You can write whatever you have to say,” the action seemed to +suggest. + +Lois hesitated. She was a conscientious child and did not like to break +one of the rules of the school, but her curiosity was very strong, and +after a while it conquered her principles. She wrote, “Was it you who +planted all those vegitables in our gardens? I think it was very funny, +but mother made Joe Mills move them into the vegitable garden, all but +one cucumber vine for each of us.” + +The note was passed back without being detected by the teacher, and +Ellen took another half sheet out of her desk. She sat lost in thought +for a few moments, leaning her head on her hand. Finally, she seized +her pencil and began to write very fast, as if fearing that her +inspiration would leave her. Presently she handed the paper to Lois. +Lois spread it open and glanced up furtively. + +“Lois Page, is that a note that you have?” said Miss Benton severely. +“Bring it straight to me. Any information that you have received will +doubtless be of value to all of us.” + +Lois read her note through hastily, before complying with her teacher’s +request. It ran as follows:-- + + Lois, Lois, quite contrary, + How does your garden grow? + With squash vine and melon, + All planted by Ellen, + And cucumbers all in a row. + +Lois was quite sure the information would not be useful to the school, +and Miss Benton seemed to think so too, for when she had read the note +she put it into her desk. + +“You and Ellen can stay after school,” she said. + +And then she began to tell the scholars about the reading of patriotic +pieces that she planned to have on the Friday that came nearest to +Decoration Day. She wanted each boy and girl to bring some piece about +slavery or the civil war. + +“We will have a preliminary reading next week Friday,” she said, “and +we will then choose the two best readers, those who have the fewest +criticisms, to head the different sides, and select six or eight others +to take part in a programme which you can all invite your parents to +attend.” + +Lois felt a joy in this announcement, mixed with a fear. She was sure +she was one of the best readers, and hoped she might be chosen to +head a side. And yet what a trial it would be to have to stand on the +platform and face, not only the scholars, but also a group of mothers, +and still worse, fathers! The children could talk of little else for +the next day or two, and Lois made her mother’s life a burden until she +found something for her to read. The choice finally fell on “Barbara +Frietchie.” + +Jessie had settled what her selection should be the moment the plan +was suggested. She meant to read Whittier’s “Astræa at the Capitol: +Abolition of Slavery in the District of Columbia, 1862,” a poem that +her father was very fond of and had read to her more than once. + +Ellen browsed in her father’s library, and made his life a torment to +him until he had got down a row of green volumes for her, and patiently +helped her choose a poem. He advised first one thing and then another, +and after all, Ellen made her own selection. She became fascinated by +a poem of Longfellow’s called “The Slave in the Dismal Swamp,” and she +went around the house reading it in blood-curdling tones. + + “In dark fens of the Dismal Swamp + The hunted Negro lay; + He saw the fire of the midnight camp, + And heard at times a horse’s tramp + And a bloodhound’s distant bay.” + + * * * * * + + “On his forehead he bore the brand of shame, + And the rags, that hid his mangled frame, + Were the livery of disgrace.” + +Lois, meanwhile, was driving her mother to the verge of madness by +insisting upon reading “Barbara Frietchie” to her half a dozen times a +day. Jessie, on the other hand, read her poem over in solitude. + +Lois tried first one way of reading and then another. + + “‘Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, + But spare your country’s flag,’ she said,” + +she repeated dramatically. “Mother, do you think I ought to bow my head +when I read that, or shake it from side to side?” + +She looked so very far from the gray-haired Barbara, as she gave her +head first a nod and then a shake, that Mrs. Page burst into unfeeling +laughter. + +“Mother, I think it is too bad of you to laugh,” Lois protested. And +presently she came to the lines, + + “‘Who touches a hair of yon gray head + Dies like a dog! March on!’ he said. + +“Mother, do you think I made my voice deep enough? Did it sound like a +man’s? I think it is better to read in different voices, don’t you?” + +Mrs. Page was almost hysterical now. “My dear child, you read a great +deal better two days ago, before you had this craze for the dramatic. +Just read straight ahead in your natural voice, and perfectly simply.” + +“But, mother, you ought to hear Ellen read the hunted negro in the +Dismal Swamp, and the bloodhound’s curdling cry! It sends cold shivers +down your back.” + +“Luckily, Ellen’s reading is not my responsibility. If it were, I +should pass into an early grave, between you.” + +As the day for the preliminary reading approached, Lois grew more and +more nervous. She read “Barbara Frietchie” over six times on Thursday: +twice to Jessie, three times to her mother, and when Mrs. Page’s +patience finally gave out, she selected Maggie for a victim, and going +out into the kitchen, she read the whole poem through to her. + + “‘Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, + But spare your country’s flag,’ she said.” + +She had finally decided not to make any gesture at this point. + +“Isn’t that great, Maggie?” she asked. + +Maggie was so much impressed, that it almost decided Lois to adopt the +dramatic manner, in spite of her mother’s counsels. + +Friday afternoon came at last, and then the awful space of time that +preceded her own reading, when Lois sat trembling in her seat, as the +children were called on alphabetically. Oh, why did not her name begin +with one of the first letters in the alphabet, like fortunate Dora +Robertson’s, who stood up and read a spirited war piece in a mouse-like +voice, and then sat down with the pleased expression of the martyr +whose sufferings are quickly over. Ellen Morgan came next. She walked +to the platform with the brave exterior of the general preparing for +battle. + +To say that the reading of “The Slave in the Dismal Swamp” produced a +distinct sensation, is to put it mildly. Whatever Ellen’s faults of +delivery might be, there was a passion of earnestness about her, an +entire forgetfulness of herself, that turned the smile that came at +first into respectful attention, and then admiration. As the children +listened, it seemed as if they could see the hunted negro, and hear +with him the horse’s tramp and the bloodhound’s distant bay. + +When Ellen sat down, there were tears in her eyes, and there were tears +in Miss Benton’s eyes, too. + +“How had Ellen done it?” Lois asked herself. It was all so very simple, +but Lois had a conviction in her heart that she herself, if she were +to read “Barbara Frietchie” over a hundred times, for as many days, +could never equal the simple pathos of Ellen’s voice. + +Ethel Smith, Edward Cory, Gertrude Brown, and other girls and boys +followed, but no one began to approach Ellen. Finally Jessie’s turn +came. Lois had heard her read her poem only once. Jessie went up on the +platform with the same quiet dignity with which she did everything. +Lois thought how very lovely she looked in her new lilac gingham frock. + +Jessie had a voice that was like music, and the poem she read with the +utmost simplicity was so beautiful that the children were as quiet as +if they were in church. + + “I knew that truth would crush the lie,-- + Somehow, some time, the end would be; + Yet scarcely dared I hope to see + The triumph with my mortal eye. + + “But now I see it! In the sun + A free flag floats from yonder dome, + And at the nation’s hearth and home + The justice long delayed is done.” + +Lois looked out of the window at the flag on the flagstaff, as it +gently floated in the breeze. It suddenly came over her, as no lesson +in history had ever taught her, what the civil war had meant. First +there was Ellen’s slave, and then the war had come and made him free. +There was a little catch in her throat, and she saw the flag now +through a blur of tears. + +Joel Carpenter came next; and as there were no K’s in school, Lois’s +turn would come afterwards. She clutched her book, and her heart began +to beat very fast. It seemed no longer of any use to try to read, for +no one else had begun to do as well as Ellen and Jessie. Then Lois +thought of Maggie and her honest enthusiasm. The thought of Maggie gave +her courage as she walked across the school-room floor and mounted the +platform. For one moment her heart failed her, and then she made up her +mind that she would read “Barbara Frietchie” as she had never read it +before. She opened her book nervously and glanced down at the printed +page, then she made a flurried bow and prepared to read, but the words +that met her astonished gaze were “Cobbler Keezar’s Vision.” For a +moment she was half dazed, then she recognized the horrible truth that +she had lost her place. She turned the leaves hastily. In the confusion +of the moment she had forgotten in what part of the book “Barbara +Frietchie” lay hidden. “To Englishmen,” “The Preacher,” “The Tent on +the Beach,”--she turned hastily to the table of contents, but even +there “Barbara Frietchie” seemed to take a teasing pleasure in keeping +herself unrevealed. Here she was at last,--“Barbara Frietchie,” page +279. + +Lois made another bow, a bow of humiliation, and then she began to +read. All the joy of the day had gone for her, and all the hope of +outshining Ellen and Jessie. She could hardly find her voice. She could +hear herself going over the pages with the mouse-like quiet with which +Dora Robertson had read. When she came to-- + + “‘Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, + But spare your country’s flag,’ she said,” + +Lois read the words faintly, as if poor Barbara’s spirit had been +completely quenched by her strenuous day; and she made Stonewall +Jackson say,-- + + “‘Who touches a hair of yon gray head + Dies like a dog! March on!’ he said,” + +in the gentle voice of a lady ordering a cup of tea. It was all too +terrible, but she got through it somehow, and when she made another bow +at the end, and finally sank into her seat, the only comfort she could +find in life was the certainty that this horrible ordeal would not +have to be repeated on the following Friday, for no one with a thinking +brain could put her reading among the first ten. + +When every one had finished, even Reuben Morgan, who came at the end +of the school alphabet, and who, to Lois’s comfort, read in the same +poor-spirited way in which she had, the criticisms of the reading began. + +Lois hardly heard what the children said, until her attention was +caught by a few words in Ethel Smith’s critical, clear-cut tones, “Lois +Page made three bows.” + +Ellen and Jessie were unanimously chosen to head the sides. Lois felt +that she ought to be glad that her two best friends had this honor, but +she could be glad of nothing now; she could only wish that she could +hide her head forever in some spot far from the light of day. + +As Lois and Jessie turned in at the gate, they saw Mittens sitting on +the front doorstep, in a calm, unruffled way. + +“You are always lucky in everything that happens to you, Jessie,” said +Lois. “I wish I had a witch kitten.” + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A SUMMER EXCHANGE + + +When school was over, and Jessie went to spend the long vacation with +her aunt and sister, Lois was so unhappy that it seemed as if she could +hardly live through the separation. + +The day after her friend’s departure, Lois, with a pale, miserable +face, came to her mother. + +“Mother, it looks so scant in my closet, with all Jessie’s things +gone,” she said. “I don’t see how I am going to stand it until she gets +back.” + +Mrs. Page looked up from a stocking that she was darning. + +“My dear child,” she returned, “I wish you had more of Jessie’s way of +finding happiness everywhere.” + +“But, mother, it is easy for her to be happy, for she is going to be +with her aunt and Cicely. That is one of the worst parts of it, that +she was so glad to go.” + +“But even if she had been the one to stay here, she would have +contrived to make herself contented. I think she would be going this +very minute to see the Morgans, and that is what I advise you to do.” + +Things looked a little brighter, as Lois put on her hat and shut the +front door behind her, and her face lighted up with a smile when she +met Ellen turning in at the gate. + +“You dear thing,” said Lois, “I was just going to see you. Come out on +the piazza and we’ll decide what to play.” + +“I have come to tell you that I am going away to-morrow,” said Ellen, +with a solemn face. + +“You are going away!” Lois felt that her last ray of comfort had gone. +“Where are you going?” she inquired in a subdued voice. + +“To Hollisford, on an exchange with father. We are to drive there and +back, and perhaps we’ll stay over Monday.” + +“What a lovely thing to do!” said Lois, with a sigh of envy. + +“Yes, it is nice, and the nicest part is that father says I can ask +some girl to go too. I am wondering if Ethel Smith would enjoy it.” + +At the mention of Ethel’s name poor Lois had a stab of jealousy. + +“I know Ethel would like it very much,” she said slowly. + +“I am not sure that it would not be better to ask Dora Robertson,” +Ellen continued; “she does not have so much fun as Ethel has.” + +“Yes, Dora would just love it.” + +“Goosie!” and Ellen put her arm impetuously around Lois’s waist; “do +you suppose I’d ask any one in the world but you? I can’t help teasing +you, because I can always get a rise out of you.” + +“Do you mean that you and your father are going to take me on a driving +journey?” Lois asked, with shining eyes. + +“Perhaps your mother won’t let you go,” said the irrepressible Ellen. +“In that case I’ll have a chance to ask Gertrude Brown.” + +But Lois only smiled back at Ellen; she was beyond being teased now. + +Mrs. Page was delighted that Lois was to have the pleasure of a little +journey, and the next day, after an early lunch, Mr. Morgan and Ellen +drove up to the gate, with Diana the brown horse, in the capacious +buggy that was wide enough for three. + +Mrs. Page came out to see them off. + +“Your rubbers and raincoat are in the dress-suit case,” she said, as +she put it in under the seat. + +“Mother, it can’t rain,” Lois objected. “There isn’t a cloud in the +sky.” + +“It may be a weather-breeder. It is well to be prepared for everything. +There are some sandwiches and cookies in this box, in case you are +hungry before you get to Hollisford.” + +Oh, the joy of that drive! There would be five long hours before +Hollisford was reached; five hours of summer sunshine, alternating with +shady wood roads, and highways between meadows full of daisies, or else +sweet with new-mown hay. Five hours of the bliss of out of doors, in +company with Ellen and her father! + +At first it was enough happiness just to sit still and watch the +landscape, the exquisite fresh green of trees, meadows, and hillsides; +to hear the rustle of the wind among the leaves, to watch a squirrel +as he ran along a stone wall and vanished among the branches of an +oak-tree; to exchange friendly greetings with the dwellers in the +lonely farmhouses scattered along the road; but a time came when the +shadows began to lengthen, when the luncheon had all been eaten and +they wanted more, when Ellen asked how long it would be before they got +to Hollisford. Then it was that Mr. Morgan proposed playing travelers’ +whist. They agreed that every live creature, man, woman, child, and +animals of all sorts, should count one, excepting the cat, and she, +for some mysterious reason known only to Ellen, was to count five, +while a cat in the window was to count ten. Lois felt that Ellen had +much the best of it, for she was on the left-hand side, and whenever +they met a carriage, it turned to the right and passed along on Ellen’s +side of the road. Once they met a three-seated wagon drawn by two +horses and with three people on a seat, and this put Ellen far ahead of +Lois. + +But at last, to Lois’s joy, there was a weather-beaten, vine-covered, +gray house on her side of the way, close by the roadside, and at the +window were a maltese cat and two maltese kittens. + +“Look at the sweet things, Ellen,” said Lois. “Aren’t they darlings? +Three cats in the window for me. That makes thirty all at once. I am +ahead of you now.” + +“There is only one cat in the window,” Ellen said. “Kittens oughtn’t to +count as much as cats. They oughtn’t to count more than half as much, +ought they, father?” + +“But they are more than half as big as the cat,” Lois protested. + +“As we can’t stop to measure all the cats we pass, I think we’ll call +it ten for kittens as well as cats,” Mr. Morgan decided. + +“Very well,” said Ellen in an injured tone, “but I don’t think it is +fair.” + +Just then a farm laborer and his wife and two little flaxen-haired +girls, one in a pink dress, the other in blue, and a boy in a torn +jacket, strolled out from a house farther down the road, crossed over, +and came along on Ellen’s side of the way. + +“Five for me,” she cried. + +“But they started on my side of the road,” said Lois. + +“I can’t help that. They came over on my side finally.” + +“If kittens were half what cats were, children ought to be half what +grown people are,” said Lois. + +“But they are not. Father decided kittens and cats should count alike.” + +“I only said _if_ they were.” + +“But they are not.” + +The last mile was enlivened by more than one dispute, for the children +were tired and hungry. The eating of the sandwiches and cookies now +seemed to have taken place in a remote past. Even Lois, who a few hours +before had wanted the afternoon to stretch on and on and never end, +was glad when they stopped at a white tavern with the sign “Hollisford +House” hanging before it. + +Lois had traveled so little that her entrance into this country inn was +a great event. It looked very pleasant and homelike, with its broad +piazzas across the first and second stories. The inn stood at one end +of the village common, and facing it across the green was a brick +church with a white belfry. + +The group of men who were smoking in the office of the Hollisford +House filled Lois with consternation, and she wondered that Mr. Morgan +and Ellen could take the formidable clerk so calmly. He showed them +to their rooms, up one flight of stairs and at the end of a winding +passage. Mr. Morgan had a small room, and Lois and Ellen shared a very +large one opening out of it. + +“What a queer, rambling old room!” said Ellen; “it looks just as if it +might be haunted.” + +“Don’t, Ellen, you make me feel quite crawly.” + +Ellen went over to the windows and opened the blinds to let in the late +sunlight. + +“Oh, Ellen, what a lovely view!” said Lois. + +Two of the windows were at the back of the house, and looked out on +a swiftly flowing little brook that came rushing down between its +green banks, as if it were about to run under the tavern, but thinking +better of it, took a sharp turn to the right. There were willow-trees +on either side of the brook, and in the distance beyond the vegetable +garden was a peaceful meadow where two black and white cows were +grazing, and far away at the horizon rose a round, green hill. Lois +was enchanted with the quiet beauty of the scene, but Ellen was more +interested in a white-haired old woman who was taking some pillow-cases +off the clothes-line. + +“I wonder why they have such a very old person to help do the work,” +said Ellen; “and why do you suppose she has left that feather-bed so +very near the brook?” + +“I never noticed the feather-bed.” + +Supper was a formidable meal to poor Lois, because they had to eat it +in a very large dining-room, at a long table half filled with guests. +Lois felt that her shoes had a too conspicuous squeak, as she crossed +the uncarpeted wooden floor. She longed to sit between Ellen and Mr. +Morgan, but Ellen also preferred to sit in the middle. As Lois was +nearest the kitchen, the maid came to her first for orders. + +“Beefsteak, baked potatoes, and toast,” she said in an indifferent tone. + +Lois wanted all three, but she was afraid this might seem too grasping, +so she said in an almost inaudible voice, “Baked potatoes and toast, +please,” only to find that both Ellen and Mr. Morgan said with bold +courage, “All three.” + +When supper was over, they went upstairs to the large room, and Mr. +Morgan read aloud to the two little girls from “Ivanhoe” until their +bed-time. + +“I suppose we ought to shut the blinds,” said Ellen, as she and Lois +began to undress. “The side windows open on the piazza, and any one +could look in. It would be very easy for a burglar to get in,” she +added dramatically. + +“He wouldn’t find anything to steal,” Lois said cheerfully; “we haven’t +any watches, and I have only ten cents mother gave me to put into the +contribution-box to-morrow.” + +“If he finds the ten cents you can tell him what it is for, and he will +leave it for the good cause,” said Ellen. + +Lois thought this a very witty remark and she laughed merrily. + +“Perhaps the ghost and the burglar will come at the same time, and the +ghost will frighten the burglar away,” she suggested. + +“I believe your mother was right about to-day being a weather-breeder,” +said Ellen, as she closed the blinds; “it has clouded over and there +isn’t a star to be seen. I tell you what let’s do,” she added, as +she blew out the lamp and joined Lois in the wide, old-fashioned bed: +“let’s talk until midnight, just for the fun of it.” + +“Oh, Ellen,” Lois replied sleepily, “I don’t think I could.” + +“Well, you needn’t, then,” said Ellen stiffly. “I know Ethel Smith +would be just delighted to talk to me all night long, if I wished it.” + +At the mention of this name Lois rubbed her eyes and said drowsily, +“All right, Ellen, what do you want to talk about?” + +“Ghosts and burglars.” + +“I don’t believe in ghosts, do you?” Lois asked. + +“Well, they are very interesting to talk about, anyway,” said Ellen +non-committally. + +After all, Ellen was the first to go to sleep, for her tales were +so exciting that Lois soon became very wide awake; but long before +midnight she too was peacefully slumbering, dropping off to the +accompaniment of the rain that was beginning to fall on the tin roof of +the piazza. + +It seemed to her that she had been sleeping a long time when she was +waked by the slamming of a blind. The wind was blowing a gale and +the rain was falling in torrents. There were all sorts of strange +creaking, tapping, rattling noises, and although she was sure it was +only the wind, she could not but think of Ellen’s tales. How the house +shook! and what a noise the brook made as it rushed downhill! The +boards of the floor creaked as if some one were walking over them. +Surely that must be a footstep! There certainly was some one in the +room, and remembering Ellen’s burglar, Lois gave her friend a violent +shake. + +“What’s the matter?” Ellen cried in a sleepy, but cross voice. + +“Listen, Ellen.” + +Ellen gripped Lois’s hand. + +Through the surrounding darkness they could catch the glimmer of a +white form. + +“It is a ghost,” Ellen said in an awestruck voice; and Lois, who did +not believe in ghosts, wished ardently that it was morning. Ellen held +Lois’s hand as if it were in a vise. + +The white object moved stealthily towards the window. + +Suddenly Ellen remembered that her father was in the next room. + +“Father, father!” she called. + +Then the ghost came towards them and said in Mr. Morgan’s comfortable +voice, “I am sorry I waked you up. It is such a storm I was afraid the +rain might be coming in at your east windows.” + +Ellen laughed hysterically. + +“We thought you were a ghost, father,” she said. + +“Or a burglar,” added Lois. + +“I am sorry to disappoint you,” said Mr. Morgan. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE STORM AT HOLLISFORD + + +The oldest inhabitant could not remember so severe a storm in July as +the one that followed Mrs. Page’s weather-breeder. Ellen, who liked +adventures, was delighted to find, when she waked in the morning, that +it was raining very hard. + +She ran to a window and opened the blinds. + +“Look, Lois!” she cried; “see how the brook has risen already; it is +almost up to the feather-bed!” + +Lois came and looked. All her pretty, peaceful view of the night before +was blurred by the down-coming rain. + +In the dining-room the guests were all talking of the storm, as they +ate their baked beans and fish-balls, and when church time approached, +it was raining so hard that Mr. Morgan said he thought that the little +girls had better stay at home. + +“I have my raincoat and my rubbers,” said Lois. + +“Of course we are going to church,” said Ellen, who longed to be out in +the storm. + +“Well, if the landlady can lend you a waterproof,” Mr. Morgan began. + +Lois put on her rubbers joyfully. + +“I think you are very selfish,” said Ellen, with a gleam of mischief in +her eye that was lost on Lois, “to have two rubbers and never offer me +one.” + +Lois pulled one off hastily. + +Ellen laughed. “Goosie, what good would one rubber do either of us?” +she said. + +“Of course it wouldn’t. I never stopped to think.” + +“Ellen, you ought to be ashamed of yourself to tease her so,” said +Ellen’s father. + +The landlady was not anxious to brave the storm, and cheerfully lent +Ellen an old-fashioned blue circular waterproof, that swept the ground; +but when it was pinned up with safety-pins and Ellen’s feet were +encased in rubbers far too large for her, the little company set out +for church. The children were glad that the services were to be held in +a white meeting-house a quarter of a mile away, instead of in the brick +one, as it meant a longer walk. + +The church was very old, with galleries, and square pews with doors. +They had the building almost to themselves, and Ellen selected a pew +near the door. + +“I have to sit so far forward at home that I want to sit where I can +see every one go in,” she whispered to Lois. “Doesn’t it seem just as +if we were keeping house in a dear little room?” she added presently, +as she closed the pew door. Lois, who had been taught never to whisper +in church, pretended not to hear. She sat up very straight with her +hands folded. + +It seemed strange to the children that the slender congregation was +composed chiefly of the old or middle-aged, the very persons they would +have supposed the storm would have kept at home. + +There were only three children present, besides themselves, and these +were boys, who were marshaled in by a severe-looking lady. When the +first hymn was given out, Ellen felt it her duty to sing as loud as +possible, as there were so few to join in the singing, and she let out +her voice in a way that astonished Lois, and caused a woman in the pew +in front of them to turn around. + +When Mr. Morgan began his sermon, Lois found, to her delight, that it +was an old favorite of hers, a sermon upon looking on the bright side, +which he preached the first Sunday she ever heard him. + +Lois felt a great deal older than she had done then, and she was sure +she was not half so apt to look on the dark side. Indeed, until Jessie +had gone away on her vacation, there had seldom been a dark side to +look on. Dear, sunny Jessie, who always made light of any little trial. +There never was any one half so sweet as Jessie. + +When church was over, there was a temporary lull in the storm, and +Ellen persuaded her father to take them on a little walk across the +bridge and up the hill. Ellen walked into every puddle they came to. +She said that her rubbers were boats, and that it was her duty to give +them a sail whenever she could. + +“Ellen, I wish your sense of duty was not quite so strong,” said her +father. + +When they came back, they stood for a long time on the bridge throwing +in sticks and watching them sail out on the other side. Ellen had a +name for every vessel. + +“Come, children, we really must go home,” said Mr. Morgan, cutting into +a description that Ellen was giving of the crew of the Shooting Star. +“It is beginning to rain hard again.” + +[Illustration: HER RUBBERS WERE BOATS] + +After their walk the children were very hungry. Lois was beginning to +feel quite at home at the long table. Both she and Ellen were delighted +to find that there was roast chicken for dinner, with the accompaniment +of mashed potatoes, peas, string beans, and jelly: each vegetable was +on a separate little dish. There were four kinds of dessert, apple +pie, raspberry tart, custard pie, and tapioca pudding. Again the maid +came to Lois first, and it was very hard to decide what to take, but +she finally chose raspberry tart and apple pie. The apple pie was made +of dried apples, which was a sad disappointment. + +Ellen saw that her father was absorbed in a conversation with the man +next to him, and she seized the opportunity to order all four kinds of +dessert. “Doesn’t it seem just like Thanksgiving?” she whispered to +Lois. + +Ellen was eating her raspberry tart when her father unexpectedly turned +and said to the maid, who was waiting for his order, “I see that my +little girl has saved me the trouble of ordering any dessert,” and he +pushed the tapioca pudding and the custard pie towards him, and said, +“That was very thoughtful of you, Ellen.” + +“I never can get ahead of father,” Ellen said in a resigned voice. + +It rained hard all the afternoon. When they were tired of reading, Lois +and Ellen went out to the barn to see some kittens. There were five of +them, and they were an exceedingly riotous family, and so little used +to people that they would not come near the children. They looked very +fascinating as they peered at Lois and Ellen from distant corners. The +mother was very friendly. She was something like Minnie, only she had +yellow streaks in her fur. Two of the kittens looked like her, two were +black and white, and the prettiest one was yellow and white. “How nice +it is for the cat to have five kittens!” said Lois. “It is so lonely +for Minnie and Mittens, now that Chinchilla has been given away.” Lois +was sure she could make friends with them in time. The landlady gave +her some milk in a pie-plate, which she put down on the barn floor. +The cat at once began to drink, and made the low call to her kittens +that Lois knew so well. Presently, to Lois’s delight, the kittens came +scurrying from different quarters, and there was a family group around +the pie-plate of a mother and her five children. + +This excitement made a break in the long Sunday afternoon, and towards +tea-time Mr. Morgan took the children for another walk in the rain. + +The next morning it was still raining. The brook had become a raging +torrent, and the feather-bed had been taken in at last. It was all very +well for it to have rained on Sunday, but they had planned to have a +day out of doors exploring the country on Monday, and the children were +not at all pleased to find such a wet day. + +How hard it poured! There seemed no prospect of its ever clearing. Lois +and Ellen pressed their noses against the window-pane at intervals, but +there was no exploring to be done on this day. + +After breakfast Lois thought it would help and please the landlady if +they made their bed. + +It was not an easy one to make, for there was an old-fashioned +feather-bed on top, and punch and pull it as they would, they could not +get it into shape. + +“It is like kneading bread,” said Ellen, “only it never seems to get +kneaded.” + +When the bed was made it presented a strange appearance, for it stood +up like a mountain in the middle and sloped away in an amazing fashion +at each side. + +“Good-morning,” said the landlady pleasantly, as she came in with clean +towels. “For the land’s sake!” She stood as if petrified for a moment, +and then said, “Who made that bed? Did Delia make it? I must give her a +scolding.” + +“We made it. We wanted to help you,” Lois faltered. + +“Well, the next time you want to help, you had better take a few +lessons in putting on feather-beds first. I guess you don’t have them +where you live.” + +“No; I wish we did,” said Ellen, “they are so downy and comfortable.” + +The landlady pulled the bed to pieces, and Lois had a discouraged +feeling. She thought she had been of so much help. + +Afterwards Mr. Morgan read to them from “Ivanhoe,” and they were so +thrilled over the trials of Rebecca that they forgot they had wanted +the sunshine. + +Mr. Morgan had to get home by Tuesday noon, so when the sun finally +came out the next morning, there was no time to do any exploring of the +neighboring country. + +The drive home was an adventurous one, for a pond had risen so that it +spread over the road, and as they drove along, the water came up almost +to the steps of the carriage. But this was not all: when they reached +the hill where they had seen the three cats in the window, they found +the road was badly gullied. Mr. Morgan drew up his horse, and Lois +looked with dismay into the yawning chasm in front of them. A great +slice had been taken off the hill, and the road was impassable. + +“What shall we do, father?” Ellen asked. Any sort of an adventure +delighted her. “Shall we scramble down into that hole and then climb up +on the other side?” She did not wait for an answer, but plunged into +the abyss, while Lois stood cautiously on the edge. + +“I shall have to lead the horse around through that field,” said Mr. +Morgan. + +“And you want us to let down those bars for you,” said Ellen, +scrambling up again with the mud clinging to her shoes and skirt. “That +is a cave, and there is an enchanted princess in it who has been turned +into a stone,” she informed Lois. “You ought to go down. It is most +interesting.” + +“I don’t care to get my shoes muddy,” said Lois. + +It was so exciting to drive through the rocky pasture that the rest of +the journey was commonplace in comparison. + + * * * * * + +No European traveler, returning to his native land, could have had a +greater sense of having had adventures and seen the world than Lois +had, as she went up the steps and opened the green door of her house. +Was it possible that it was only three days since she had left her +quiet home? + +“Well, dearest, did you have a good time?” her mother asked. + +“We had such a good time, mother, and so many adventures!” + +“What were they, dear?” + +And then the hopelessness of ever describing them came over Lois. How +could she make her mother know the charm of that glorious drive in the +summer sunshine, or understand the excitement of life in the little +hotel, or feel the terror of the midnight burglar-ghost, the quaint +charm of the old church, and the rapture of the walk in the rain? How +could she make her feel that it was all doubly dear to her because +shared with Ellen and Ellen’s father? + +“I am sorry it rained so much of the time,” said Mrs. Page; “it must +have been a great disappointment; but isn’t it fortunate I put in your +rubbers and raincoat?” + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE VEGETABLE TEA-PARTY + + +School began on the Monday after Labor Day, and so Jessie came back in +time for Lois’s birthday. Lois was delighted to see her, although she +and Ellen had had such a good time together that she had not missed +Jessie half so much as she thought she should. One morning at school +Ellen said, “The vegetables are ripe in Anne’s and my garden, and +mother says I can ask you and Jessie to tea on your birthday.” + +“What a lovely thing it is to have a witch kitten in the house!” Lois +exclaimed enthusiastically. “I am sure that is why the vegetables got +ripe just in time for my birthday.” + +“Of course,” said Ellen. + +Jessie and Lois could hardly wait for the afternoon of the party, and +when it finally came, it was such a warm, pleasant day that to their +great joy they could wear their white muslin dresses. + +“Don’t you feel very old?” asked Ellen, as she greeted Lois and gave +her as many kisses as her years demanded. + +“No,” Lois answered, “I suppose I ought to, but I don’t.” + +She felt very young and shy when she sat down at the supper-table and +found herself placed, as the guest of honor, between Mr. Morgan and the +formidable Amyas. He had grown very tall in the last year, and seemed +much older than in the winter. + +The table presented a unique appearance. In the middle was placed a +dish of melons, cut in halves, while at the corners of the centrepiece, +on which the dish stood, were small tumblers of radishes, and in front +of Mr. Morgan was a delicious-looking salad, made of cucumbers and +lettuce, with a cucumber vine encircling the dish. + +“I arranged the table myself,” Ellen burst out. “Don’t you think it +looks perfectly lovely?” + +Lois had hardly tasted the first mouthful of her salad when the maid +came to her with a letter. + +“For me?” cried Lois. “How strange.” + +“Some one must have heard you were here,” Amyas suggested. + +Lois opened the envelope and found a pink ribbon inside, which just +matched the sash she wore. There were also some lines, which ran as +follows:-- + + Here is a ribbon for your hair, + Pray take it, dear, and place it there. + May joy and pleasure come to you, + So hopes your very loving + SUE. + +Lois looked across the table at Ellen’s grown-up sister and smiled her +thanks. She was delighted with the ribbon and almost as much pleased +with the verse. + +“How nice it must be to be able to write poetry!” she shyly confided to +Amyas. + +“Poetry! do you call that stuff poetry?” he asked. “If I only had a +name that would rhyme with anything, I could make much better poetry +for you. I’ll make some that will rhyme with your name,” and a little +later he broke a momentary silence by repeating,-- + + “There was a child named Lois Page, + Who’d reached so very great an age, + She felt that dolls were surely folly, + And thus she was most melancholy; + For dolls she loved with all her heart, + And from her dolls she could not part. + Poor little girl, poor Lois Page, + ’Tis sad to reach so great an age.” + +“I shan’t be too old to play with dolls for a very long time,” Lois +stated. + +“I am glad of that,” said Amyas, “for I have a small present. Where is +it?”--he felt in his pocket--“oh, here it is; I bought it for myself, +and when I tried it on, mother insisted it was too small for me. What +do you think, Lois?” + +He gravely put on a doll’s hat, which was just the right size for +Lois’s Betty. It was made of white straw and was trimmed with a blue +ribbon, and a small feather was stuck in it. + +Amyas looked so absurd with the tiny hat perched on top of his yellow +hair that every one burst out laughing. + +“Don’t you think it is becoming?” Amyas inquired, with a smirk and +the conscious look in his blue eyes of an affected young lady. “Isn’t +it provoking of mother to say it is too small? If you like it for one +of your dolls, you can have it,” he said, presenting it to her with a +piece of paper on which was written the verse he had just quoted. + +“Oh, thank you so much,” said Lois. + +“I bought it for Amyas,” Ellen said. “I took down Jean because she is +just the size of Betty and fitted her, and I was so crazy to keep the +hat myself that Amyas gave me one too, so Jean and Betty will have hats +just alike.” + +“Ellen is always fond of romancing,” said Amyas. + +While Lois was still eating her salad the maid again brought her +something. This time it was a bunch of sweet peas of variegated colors, +and they were separated by a feathery green, so that they looked almost +as if they were growing on the vines. Lois plunged her nose into them +and inhaled the delicious fragrance. A card said, “For Lois, with best +wishes for a happy new year, from S. T. Morgan.” + +“I can’t write verses,” said Mrs. Morgan, “but I picked these sweet +peas for you, Lois, with my own hands.” + +The next gift was a tiny little box full of cotillon pencils of +different colors. There was a verse with them that ran:-- + + Five pencils in their narrow bed, + Yellow and green, blue, pink, and red. + Oh, may these colors symbolize + Woods and sunshine and bluest skies. + Rainbows, sunsets, red letter days, + And all life’s gay and pleasant ways. + May every year of added age + Bring added joy to Lois Page. + +This was Mr. Morgan’s contribution, and it seemed to Lois the sweetest +poem of all. + +There were rolls and cold chicken with the salad, and when this course +was finished, the melons were passed around with some cake with +cocoanut frosting. Lois was beginning to think she was not going to +have any more presents when the maid handed her another envelope. +Inside was a charming hand-painted paper doll made by Anne, and these +lines were written in Anne’s clear hand:-- + + Here is a maiden with a fan, + Dressed by your very loving + + ANNE. + +Lois was delighted. The poetic gift of the Morgan family filled her +with amazement. + +“Anne painted in the fan on account of the rhyme,” Ellen confided to +the company. “We had such fun, all writing the verses together the +other night, only mother and Reuben can never write any. I am crazy to +have you hear my poem.” + +Presently a very large bundle was placed on the table near Lois, and +she began to open it eagerly. She undid one wrapping-paper after +another, until finally she came to a moderate sized candy box. + +“Candy; how nice!” said Lois, looking appreciatively at Ellen. + +“I hope it will be your favorite kind,” said Ellen. “Guess what it is.” + +“Chocolate peppermints,” said Lois. + +She opened the cover, pulled up the paraffine paper, and underneath +were disclosed two small cucumbers. The disappointment was so great +that Lois at first could not appreciate the joke. Ellen’s verse was +written in her scrawling hand. + + Dear Lois, in your birthnight slumbers, + I hope you’ll dream of my cucumbers; + Of melon, monkey, and hand-organ, + So hopes your best friend, + + ELLEN MORGAN. + +“Amyas bet me a doll’s hat that I couldn’t make a verse with a rhyme in +it to my own name, but I did,” said Ellen triumphantly. + +There was only one more present, a small box of chocolate peppermints +from Reuben. There was no verse with it, only, “Lois from Reuben,” in +Mrs. Morgan’s attractive handwriting. Reuben was down at the other end +of the table next his mother, and Lois could not get enough courage to +thank him. She would wait until after supper. Reuben was even shyer +than she was; he was a little older than Lois, and did not have the +charm of his older brother. Nevertheless, Reuben had been very kind to +her when she had stayed with the Morgans in the winter, having taught +her to skate, and yet she never saw him now without relapsing into her +old fear of him, he was so silent and was apt to look so indifferent. + +It happened that Reuben did not sit near Lois in the games they played +after supper, so she had no chance to thank him for his present. Mrs. +Morgan had said that one of the boys would see the children home, and +Lois thought if it were Reuben, she would gather courage to thank him +then, but it proved to be Mr. Morgan who walked back with them. Amyas +came out to the front door politely, but Reuben was nowhere to be seen. + +Her pleasure in Reuben’s gift had been spoiled by the fact that the +inscription had been in his mother’s writing. Lois was sure he had not +bought the candy for her himself, but that Mrs. Morgan had felt it +would seem rude if each member of the family were not represented. + +“Mother, we had such a lovely time!” Lois said when they reached home. +“I had seven presents and five poems,” and she proceeded to show her +treasures, and to give an animated account of the evening. + +Mrs. Page was most sympathetic. + +“Mother, you don’t think it is any matter if I don’t thank Reuben, do +you?” Lois asked. “I am sure it was really his mother’s present.” + +“I don’t think so,” said Jessie. “I am sure it was only that he was +ashamed of his bad handwriting.” + +“Well, at any rate, it is only polite to thank him,” said Mrs. Page, +entirely unaware of what a desperate task she was setting her daughter. + +“Of course you ought to,” said Jessie, who would not in the least have +minded thanking a schoolful of children. + +“I shall have to thank Reuben to-day,” Lois thought the next morning, +and this reflection was such a weight at her heart that the glorious +September sunshine seemed clouded. When Lois reached school and saw +Reuben come in, her heart began to beat very fast. He had a stolid +expression, and when recess came he went out immediately. As the day +wore on, it seemed more and more impossible to thank him, and when two +unhappy days had dragged themselves by, poor Lois felt that she would +gladly have foregone all the glories of her birthday, if by this means +she could escape thanking this member of the Morgan family for his gift. + +“I must do it,” she thought. “Mother said so, and it is rude not to, +but it does not seem as if I could.” + +The longer she put it off, the harder it was. On Saturday Lois and +Jessie went to the Morgans’ to play croquet with Anne and Ellen, and +while they were in the midst of a game Reuben appeared, asking some +question about his tennis racquet. + +“Now,” thought Lois, “I must do it,” but he was off again like a flash +before the words left her lips. + +On Monday morning, when she and Jessie came out at recess, she saw +Reuben and his great friends, Joel Carpenter and Jack Brown, on the +steps of the Baptist meeting-house, which was next to the school-house. +They were deep in conversation, evidently discussing some plan. Without +giving herself time to think, Lois left Jessie and went forward +quickly. The boys were standing on the third step, and so were just +above her. Clasping her hands behind her and with upturned face, she +said hurriedly,-- + +“Reuben, I thank you very much for my birthday present.” + +Then she hastily turned her back on him and fled. + +“Gee!” burst from Joel Carpenter’s lips, as Lois hurried down the +street. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE TREE THAT GREW IN THE PAGES’ GARDEN + + +Whenever anything pleasant happened, the children always pretended that +it was owing to the witch kitten, but in the case of the darning-class +there was no need of making believe, for even such an incredulous +on-looker as Mrs. Page acknowledged that Mittens was the cause of their +good fortune. Lois and Jessie and Anne and Ellen made up between them a +short account of the affair modeled on “The House that Jack Built.” + + This is the tree that grew in the Pages’ garden. + + This is the witch cat that climbed the tree that grew in the Pages’ + garden. + + This is the dog that barked at the witch cat that climbed the tree + that grew in the Pages’ garden. + + This is the maid in a lilac gown that chased the dog, with an awful + frown, that barked at the witch cat that climbed the tree that grew + in the Pages’ garden. + + This is the rent that came in the gown of the dainty maid with the + awful frown who chased the dog that barked at the witch cat that + climbed the tree that grew in the Pages’ garden. + + This is the dame in the ancient town who mended the rent in the lilac + gown of the dainty maid with the awful frown who chased the dog that + barked at the witch cat that climbed the tree that grew in the + Pages’ garden. + +This was what happened. Lois and Jessie were weeding their flower-beds, +and Minnie and Mittens were frisking about them, unconscious of +approaching evil. They were just behind the children, when a large +brown and white spaniel came into the garden. The little girls were +intent on their weeding, and did not notice his approach, when suddenly +a series of loud barks and terrified mews caused them to turn hastily. +Lois saw a picture that made her heart stand still. Minnie, with her +back up, was rushing valiantly towards the intruder. + +“Oh, Jessie, Minnie will be killed!” cried Lois. “Minnie, Minnie +darling, come to me!” + +Meanwhile Mittens was seeking the safety of a neighboring tree. He was +so young that he was not sure that dogs could not climb, and so he +went up as high as he could get and sat on a slender branch, huddled +together in a forlorn little heap, a most abject and frightened kitten. + +Lois stood petrified, but Jessie instantly ran between the dog and the +cat. + +“Don’t, Jessie!” exclaimed Lois, even more afraid for the safety of +her friend than for that of her pets. “He may bite you.” + +The dog was still growling; he was just preparing to make another dash +at the cat, who, on her side, was about to spring at his head. + +Jessie swooped down on Minnie and deposited the struggling animal in +the cat-house, shutting her in; then she turned to bend her energies +to getting rid of the dog. Finding that he was balked of his prey, he +now took up his station at the foot of the apple-tree where Mittens had +taken refuge, and gave a series of low growls. Poor Mittens answered by +piercing mews. + +“Come, poor fellow, come, good dog,” said Jessie. + +“He is a bad dog,” said Lois energetically. She was still at a safe +distance, but came a few steps nearer as she spoke. “I think he intends +to stay all night,” she continued. “What shall we do? Poor Mittens will +die of fright, and just hear what a dreadful noise Minnie is making.” + +Minnie was walking about on the window-sill of the cat-house like a +raging tiger, furious at having been deprived of her fight. + +“The only thing is to try kindness,” said Jessie. “Good dog, poor +doggie, good dog.” + +“He is a bad dog,” Lois repeated. She had once more retired to a safe +distance. + +“Do keep still, Lois; he doesn’t mean to be bad any more than Minnie +does. I wish I had something for him to eat.” + +At this moment the kitten climbed a little higher, and the shaking of +the branch sent a rosy astrachan apple to the ground. + +“How stupid I was!” said Jessie. “We had a spaniel once that loved +apples.” She picked one up from the ground, bit out a piece, and +held it before him enticingly. A change came over him, and he slowly +followed her as she moved back a few paces. He turned, however, +irresolutely, to look at the tree. “Good dog, good dog,” Jessie said +soothingly. Finally she succeeded in wholly distracting his attention +from the kitten. She moved slowly back until she got him outside the +yard. Then she gave him the piece of apple. + +Meanwhile the dog’s master was looking for him, and the spaniel joined +him and went off down the street. + +When Jessie returned to Mittens she said, “Now it is perfectly safe, +you can come down, dear.” + +Poor Mittens looked at her as if he would say, “I would come down if +I could.” Fright had made him climb higher than he had ever climbed +before, but it was one thing to climb up and quite another to come down. + +The children looked at each other. + +“He can’t come down,” Lois said. “What are we to do now? We’ll have to +get Joe Mills to bring a ladder and get him down,” she added presently. + +“Joe Mills is working at the Browns’ to-day. It will be nearly six +o’clock when he comes by. Mittens will be almost out of his mind with +fright before that. I can get him down all right.” + +“But he is on such a small branch,” Lois objected. “You can never climb +up to him, the branch won’t bear you.” + +Jessie’s only answer was to begin to climb the tree. She went up as +high as she could, but the kitten was some distance above her head. + +“Mittens, come down, Mittens,” she called caressingly. The kitten +made a feeble movement. Jessie reached up with one hand. Mittens came +cautiously down a little way and Jessie caught him. The branch she was +on was hardly strong enough to bear her weight. It began to show signs +of breaking. Jessie hastily put the kitten on her shoulder so that she +could use her two hands, but in scrambling down her foot slipped, and +she and Mittens fell in a heap on the ground. + +“Are you hurt?” Lois asked anxiously. + +“No, we are all right, aren’t we, Mittens? Only I have torn my frock,” +and she looked ruefully at a large tear in her skirt. + +“Oh, how too bad!” said Lois, “and that is such a pretty dress.” + +“I wish I knew how to darn,” said Jessie. “I have made such a lot of +trouble for your mother. Now you never tear your clothes.” + +“But I don’t do such interesting things. I’m not brave like you.” + +“I hate to tell your mother,” said Jessie. + +“Oh, mother won’t mind. She’ll just say, ‘How could you be so +careless!’ and then she’ll mend your skirt so beautifully you’ll hardly +know it was torn.” + +“Yes, but she has had to mend so many things for me already,” sighed +Jessie. + +At this moment they saw a carriage drive up to the gate, and Mrs. +Draper got out and came along the brick walk to the front door. + +Mrs. Draper was old enough to be Mrs. Page’s mother, but in spite of +that fact she was one of Lois’s best friends. She ran up to her now. + +“Mother isn’t in; she’ll be so sorry to miss you!” she said. + +“I will stop and see you and Jessie,” said Mrs. Draper, signing to her +coachman to drive on. “Let me come out into the garden, it is a perfect +day to stay out of doors.” + +“Mrs. Draper, I am not fit to be seen,” said Jessie. “I’ve torn this +dreadful hole in my dress.” + +“She has saved the life of our witch cat,” Lois explained, and she gave +Mrs. Draper an account of the incident that lost nothing in the telling. + +“I am sorry I was so careless,” said Jessie. “I am always tearing my +clothes. I am so sorry for Aunt Elizabeth!” + +“Now if there is one thing that I can do well, it is darning,” said +Mrs. Draper. “I used to darn the stockings and the clothes for a large +family before I was married. Bring the dress over to my house, Jessie, +and I will promise to make it look almost as well as if Mrs. Page did +it. We won’t tell her anything about it until it is mended.” + +“Oh, Mrs. Draper, how kind you are! I couldn’t let you do it. Couldn’t +you show me how? I ought to learn to darn, if I am going to be so +careless. You see at home there was always Marie to do the washing +and sewing, and I am afraid I never thought about how much work I was +making.” + +Mrs. Draper sat down on the bench in the garden near the children’s +flower-beds. Lois thought how very lovely she looked in her gray gown +and hat that so perfectly harmonized with her gray hair. + +“I am afraid it would take you some time to learn,” she said, “so I +will mend this especial frock; but if you would really like to know how +to darn your clothes and your stockings, I shall be delighted to teach +you.” She saw Lois’s wistful, pleading face, and added, “and you too, +of course, Lois dear, and perhaps Anne and Ellen Morgan would like to +join us. I will read aloud to you while you are at work.” + +“Oh, Mrs. Draper, that would be perfectly lovely,” cried Lois, “if +mother lets us, and I am sure she will.” + +“How well your nasturtiums have lasted!” said Mrs. Draper, “and the +cosmos is beautiful, and what a fine scarlet geranium that is! But what +is that vine in the middle of each bed? Oh, I see, it is a cucumber +vine, and there are cucumbers on it. I did not see them at first. What +an original idea, but it is really quite ornamental.” + +“It isn’t Ellen’s fault that there aren’t melons and squashes too,” +said Lois, and she told the whole story. + +Mrs. Draper laughed heartily at Ellen’s prank. + +“I never knew any one so lucky as I am,” Jessie said to Lois as they +went to bed that night. “Most children would get a dreadful scolding +for tearing their clothes, and here I am having my dress mended by Mrs. +Draper, and we are to have this lovely darning-class.” + +“It is a fortunate thing to own a witch kitten,” said Lois. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MRS. DRAPER’S DARNING-CLASS + + +A few days later, the Drapers’ coachman brought two square envelopes +to the house. Lois found, to her delight, that one was directed to +herself and the other to Jessie. They opened them eagerly. Inside was a +correspondence card with the monogram C. L. D. in silver letters at the +top. On each card was written,-- + + MRS. HENRY DRAPER + + BEGS THE PLEASURE OF YOUR COMPANY + NEXT SATURDAY, FROM HALF-PAST TWO UNTIL HALF-PAST + THREE, FOR THE FIRST MEETING + OF THE DARNING-CLASS. + + + _Please bring a stocking with a hole in it._ + + +There was some difficulty in getting the stockings, for Mrs. Page had +already done the weekly mending, but she finally suggested that Mrs. +Morgan could easily provide enough for all of them, and this proved to +be the case. The four children met outside the Drapers’ gate. Anne was +more than a year older than Jessie, but she was only a little taller, +as Jessie was large for her age. Anne was a very beautiful girl, with +curly golden hair and blue eyes. She and Jessie put their arms around +each other’s waists, and so did Lois and Ellen. Ellen carried a brown +plaid Boston bag that had grown shabby from long service. + +“Isn’t this a hideous old thing?” she asked. “Mother says it is good +enough to last for years. I hate Boston bags! It has four stockings +in it,--one of Anne’s, and one of mine, and one of Amyas’s, and one +of Reuben’s. I am going to mend Amyas’s, for it is so much more +interesting to mend somebody else’s things, and besides, the hole is +a small one, and Anne will mend Reuben’s, and you can mend mine, and +Jessie, Anne’s. Won’t you just love to mend my stocking for me?” + +“That depends on the kind of a hole it has,” said Lois unsentimentally. + +“You oughtn’t to mind a little thing like that. You ought to be just +crazy to do anything for me. Gertrude Brown would be perfectly thrilled +to have a chance to mend my stocking.” + +They were going up the Drapers’ avenue as she spoke, and presently +reached the front door, which was opened by the neat maid in a white +cap. + +“I used to be so scared last year when I came to this house,” Lois +confided to Ellen, “but now I don’t mind at all.” + +“How prompt you are!” said Mrs. Draper, coming forward to meet them. +“It is so warm to-day that I think it will be pleasant out on the +piazza,” and she led the way through the large hall hung with portraits +of Drapers in the clothes of a past century. + +The piazza was at the back of the house, and was glassed in later +in the season. It was large and square like a room, and contained a +sofa and a table and a variety of comfortable chairs, all of green +wicker-work. From the piazza they could look into the Drapers’ +beautiful old-fashioned garden. It was a little too late for many +flowers, but there were chrysanthemums of all kinds and colors still in +blossom, besides dahlias and cosmos. The yellows and dull reds of the +chrysanthemums and dahlias pleased the children’s color-loving eyes. + +They all stood until Mrs. Draper had seated herself in one of the +armchairs, and then Anne and Jessie slipped into seats near her, while +Ellen and Lois took their places on the green wicker sofa, that they +might be as close together as possible. On the table there was a dainty +bag of white cretonne, with heliotrope fleur-de-lis on it. It was a +large bag and held Mrs. Draper’s darning-materials. Ellen clutched her +brown plaid Boston bag, and hastily slipped it down on the floor on the +other side of the sofa. + +Mrs. Draper took four wooden eggs out of her bag and gave one to each +of the class. + +“Now if you will give me your stockings, I will show you how to go to +work,” she said. + +Ellen stooped to unfasten her bag, and in pulling out the stockings she +sent her thimble and Anne’s flying across the piazza floor. + +When they were all at work, the four little girls looked very +business-like as each one sat with an egg in her stocking, which +disclosed the hole in all the roughness of its outline. Anne’s hole, +which fell to Jessie’s share, was a delicate and lady-like one compared +with the sturdy hole in Reuben’s sock which Anne was placidly mending, +and the enormous one in Ellen’s stocking with which poor Lois was +contending. + +Mrs. Draper showed them how to draw the hole up around the edge, +and then to put the threads in up and down, and after that to cross +them with other threads, which they wove in and out like a basket +pattern, reminding Jessie of the weaving she had learned years ago at +kindergarten. + +“I am going to give a prize to the one who does the best work,” said +Mrs. Draper, and Ellen, who had felt that it didn’t matter very much +whether she was careful or not, so long as it was Amyas’s sock she was +mending, began to pull out her work. + +When they were all well under way, Mrs. Draper took from the table a +book bound in black and gold. + +“I am going to read to you from ‘The Lady of the Lake,’” said Mrs. +Draper. “This is the very book from which I read when I had a similar +darning-class for my nieces, forty years ago.” + +Lois felt very proud when she had the preliminary part of her darning +done, and had put in all the threads that went up and down. + +“It looks like a harp with a thousand strings,” whispered Ellen. + +“I shall give only a small prize to-day,” said Mrs. Draper. “I have +some sheets of gold and silver paper and some tissue paper of different +colors that I thought perhaps you could use for paper-doll dresses.” + +The children’s eyes gleamed with pleasure. + +“But after three lessons I am going to give the pupil who has improved +the most, this,” and Mrs. Draper took out of her bag an emery made in +the shape of a strawberry. The children all thought it very beautiful, +for besides being of such a pretty shape and color, it had a silver +top. “This is to be the second prize at the end of three weeks,” and +Mrs. Draper held up a little needle-book covered with white silk that +had a pattern of pink rosebuds and green leaves on it. She untied the +pink ribbons and showed some darning-needles and embroidery needles +inside. + +“I think the second prize is the nicest,” said Ellen. + +“Well, the most promising pupil can choose which she likes best,” said +Mrs. Draper. + +In the middle of the lesson they had a recess; the maid brought out +a tray, and on it were five glasses of lemonade, and some very thin, +delicate ginger cookies. + +“This is what I always used to have for my nieces, forty years ago,” +said Mrs. Draper, with a gentle little sigh. + +“I am so glad you did!” said Ellen. + +As the end of the hour approached, Mrs. Draper brought out the gold and +silver sheets and the tissue paper. There were sheets of nearly all +the colors of the rainbow, green, blue, yellow, red, and also pink and +gray. Lois longed more and more to have those beautiful sheets of paper +for her very own. She tried hard to make her hole look neat, but it was +larger than any of the others, even than the one Anne was darning, and +Anne was so much older and quicker with her fingers that Lois despaired +of equaling her. Mrs. Draper took the four stockings, when they were +finished, and looked at them critically. + +“That is not bad for a first attempt,” she said, holding up Anne’s, +“but even that is far from the work I hope you will all do some time. +There is no doubt but that the first prize goes to Anne. I am going to +have a second prize, however, for the one who darned the largest hole, +so, Lois, you will have some of this paper.” + +She divided the sheets into two portions, as she spoke, giving twice as +many to Anne as to Lois. + +“Now next Saturday,” she said, “I am going to give out the stockings +myself, and let Ellen have the largest hole to mend, because she has +had the smallest to-day, and Lois will have the smallest. Don’t you +think this is only fair?” + +“Yes, I do,” Ellen admitted, hanging her head. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A RED LETTER DAY + + +After this, the darning-class became the chief feature in the week, and +the children were sure never to miss a lesson. The book grew more and +more interesting, and so did the darning, as they learned to be less +clumsy with their needles; and when the third Saturday came, the little +girls were most eager to know who were to have the prizes. Anne was +still the best worker, but Ellen had high hopes of getting the first +prize, because she had improved so much. + +“She said, you know, the one who had improved the most was to get +it,” Ellen remarked to Lois, as they were walking, arm in arm, up the +Drapers’ avenue. “Now my work was perfectly horrid at first, and I do +it a lot better now.” + +“So do I,” said Lois. Lois had no hope of getting the first prize, as +she could see that Anne and Jessie were better workers than she, but +she had a faint hope that her marked improvement would entitle her to +the second. + +“Anne and Jessie are so much older than we are that I don’t think it is +fair,” said Ellen. + +“Isn’t it fun that we are really to have the prizes given to-day?” said +Lois. “I think this is a red letter day.” This expression, which she +had met for the first time in Mr. Morgan’s verse, had fascinated her. + +“I don’t think it will be unless we get a prize,” said Ellen. + +It was a very exciting meeting, for the two prizes were in full view +while they worked, and the strawberry had never looked so red and +enticing, and the little needle-book seemed daintier than ever. They +could now darn more than one hole in the hour, and their weekly meeting +was a real godsend to Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Page. The children were hard +at work, bending over their stockings with flushed faces, when Judge +Draper rushed out on the piazza like a large tornado, stumbling over +Ellen’s Boston bag, and catching at the sofa to prevent his falling. + +“Connie, Leonard says it is going to rain to-morrow, and that the wind +is playing the deuce in the hill orchard. I must get in the apples +to-day. I’ve come to ask you to drive up there with me this afternoon.” + +“I told you I had an engagement,” said Mrs. Draper, glancing at the +children. + +The judge looked at them as if they were of no more importance than +flies, and could be as easily brushed aside. + +“But I want you, do you understand? The apples must be picked this +afternoon.” + +“And unfortunately I have an engagement.” The more vehement he was, the +quieter she became. “You don’t need me to help you pick apples.” + +“But I want your company on the trip.” + +The children’s hearts sank while this dialogue was going on. It was +so hard to be in sight of the emery bag and the little needle-book, +so aggravating to be within an hour of solving the great mystery as +to whom they should belong, and then to have the decision postponed +for a whole week. It would be a disappointment that would be almost +unbearable. + +“Come, Connie, there is no time to lose. We must start in a quarter of +an hour.” + +“I am very sorry, children,” began Mrs. Draper, “but you see the judge +wants me to go so much.” Just then a bright idea struck her. “Harry, +why shouldn’t we all go?” she asked. “The children could ride in the +wagon with the barrels, and they could help pick the apples.” + +Suddenly the judge seemed to become aware that the little girls +were not flies to be brushed aside, but human beings with desires +and capacities. He saw four young faces, and three of them glanced +up with different degrees of eager anticipation shining in their +eyes. Ellen and Jessie looked as if they could hardly keep back an +exclamation, while if Lois was more subdued, there was a wistful +expression on her countenance that was almost more appealing. It was +the “this-is-too-good-to-be-true, and-so-I-must-not-think-of-it” +expression. Anne alone sat serene and quiet. It was Anne, however, +who settled the fate of the others. She was so very pretty, as she +sat there demurely looking down at her work, that the judge wanted to +take her along with him, and he was also curious to see if it would be +possible to ruffle that calm exterior. + +“Children, I believe I will take you.” + +A chorus of exclamations followed. “Oh, Judge Draper, how perfectly +lovely!” from Jessie. “How perfectly great!” from Ellen, and “Didn’t I +say it was going to be a red letter day?” in low tones from Lois. Anne +alone said nothing, but she began quietly to fold up her work. + +“I will take some of you, anyway,” the judge went on, with a twinkle in +his eye. + +A sudden terrible suspense came over the company. + +“Miss Anne, now, hasn’t said she wants to go, and perhaps it is too +undignified a trip for her. Miss Anne, would you rather be left behind?” + +“No, sir,” said Anne, in her sweet, low voice. “I’d like to go very +much, but there are lots of things I can do at home, if you haven’t +room for me.” + +“I guess there’ll be room all right.” + +They all went home in a great hurry to get wraps; and the emery bag +and the needle-book, once the envy of all eyes, were left on the table +quite forgotten. + +Mrs. Draper and the judge started on ahead in the buggy, leaving the +four children to follow them. + +It was great fun scrambling into the wagon, and Ellen immediately +perched herself on top of a barrel. + +“There are four barrels, one for each of us,” she said gayly. + +Jessie climbed in next and took her place on a barrel, but Lois +hesitated. The barrel looked like a dizzy height to her, and the seat +seemed very insecure. + +“Come, Lois, jump in!” Ellen cried impatiently. Lois stood first on one +foot and then on the other. She did not dare to sit on the barrel, and +neither did she dare to say that she was afraid. + +“I am going to sit in front with Leonard,” said Anne. “It will be ever +so much more comfortable. Won’t you sit there with me, Lois?” + +And this was how it happened that as they drove through the village +street there were two vacant seats in what Ellen named “the orchestra +circle.” + +“Hullo! where are you going?” Reuben demanded, as he and Amyas passed +the wagon. + +“To pick apples in Judge Draper’s orchard. Don’t you want to come?” +Ellen asked, with suspicious sweetness. + +“You bet!” + +“Well, you can’t, you know, for you weren’t invited to this theatre +party.” + +“I guess we can get admission tickets at the door,” he retorted, and he +and Amyas swung themselves into the wagon without further ceremony. + +Lois looked straight ahead, and did not once turn to speak to them. +Ever since she had thanked Reuben for his present, she had crossed the +street whenever she saw him approaching. The pleasure had all gone out +of the trip for Lois. Why had those boys insisted upon coming to spoil +the afternoon? + +And here was Jessie evidently finding an added zest in the occasion, +for she greeted them most cordially and talked with the greatest ease. + +Anne turned every now and then to put in a word, and Lois was the only +silent member of the party. + +“I wish I had stayed at home,” she thought. “Nobody wants me. Nobody +speaks to me.” + +They were all laughing and joking together, and she felt very dull and +dumb. + +It was a beautiful October afternoon. The sky was even more cloudless +than when they had gone to Brierfield to gather mayflowers, and the +world was quite as beautiful, in a different way. Color flashed at them +all along the road. There were flaming scarlet sumachs, and yellow +maples and red ones, and every now and then a solitary oak sedate in +russet brown. Suddenly they came upon some blue gentians shyly looking +up at them from the roadside. They were so exquisite with their fringed +petals that Lois forgot herself and said, “Look at those beautiful +gentians.” Then, abashed by the sound of her voice, she was silent. + +“Let’s get out and pick some,” said Ellen. + +“They’ll fade,” said Anne; “we’d better wait until we are coming home.” + +The judge and Mrs. Draper were waiting in the orchard to receive their +guests. + +“Good Lord! Who invited you to come?” the judge asked, when he saw the +boys. + +“We invited ourselves, sir,” said Amyas, with a pleasant smile. “We +thought that ‘Many hands make light work.’” + +“Well, as you are here, you may as well stay, but I trust many mouths +won’t make light work.” + +They all began picking apples, but Lois stopped every now and then out +of pure joy in the October sunshine and the splendor of the autumn +coloring. At the foot of the hill the yellows and reds of the trees +blended together softly, while in the apple orchard the bright red of +the apples made many little spots of vivid color. Anne in her blue +gown and white sweater looked very graceful as she raised her arm to +pick the apples, and Ellen in her red sweater darted about the field +sampling each tree, but never staying long anywhere. + +“You look like a scarlet tanager, Ellen,” said Lois. + +“Do I? I would rather look like that than like a blue jay, like Anne.” + +Suddenly Lois gave a loud scream. A black snake had wriggled along the +grass and placed himself just at her feet. + +“What is the matter?” the others cried. + +“It is a snake! I am so afraid of them!” + +She felt disgraced in having given way to her fears, and yet she could +not help it. + +Anne, who was picking apples near Lois, ran back in fright, while +Jessie and Ellen boldly came over with the boys to look at the snake. + +“I think he’s the poisonous kind,” Jessie said. “We’ve had them at +Brierfield.” + +Leonard, who was on the other side of the orchard, picked up a big +stick, and started to come over; but Reuben, who always liked to be the +leading spirit whenever there was anything to be done, dashed in ahead. + +“I guess he’s done for now,” he said, as he gave the snake some blows +with a stick. “You needn’t be afraid of him any more,” he added to Lois. + +Lois still felt ashamed of having screamed. She wished she were brave, +like Jessie and Ellen. + +It seemed strange that Reuben should be so much nicer to her after she +had screamed and he had killed the snake. She had supposed her silly +terror would put the finishing touch to his contempt for her. + +When they had picked all the apples on the low branches, it was proved +a fortunate thing that the judge had brought so many children with him, +for they climbed up into the higher branches and gathered the fruit +that grew there. + +“Come up here where I am, Lois; it’s lots more fun,” Ellen called out. + +Lois climbed a little higher, but it made her feel dizzy to look down, +so she clung to a branch, and said she would rather stay where she was. + +“You are afraid of everything,” said Ellen. “First you were afraid to +sit on a barrel, and then you were afraid of the snake, and now you are +afraid of an apple-tree.” + +“You shut up, Ellen Morgan,” said Reuben. “If you were afraid of a few +more things, you would be a lot pleasanter to live in the house with.” + +“So would you,” Ellen returned. “I wish you were a little afraid of me, +and then you wouldn’t say such rude things.” + +Most of the time Mrs. Draper had been sitting on the carriage cushion, +which the judge had taken out and put on the top of the stone wall. Now +she went over to the carriage and took out a basket of provisions. + +“I was going to have an extra feast to-day on account of giving the +prizes,” she said. + +The prizes! Only a few hours before, the children had felt as if they +could not live in peace without knowing who were to receive them, and +not one of them had thought of the prizes since she left the Drapers’ +house; for life is full of variety, and the unexpected things that +happen in each day make its charm. + +They gathered around Mrs. Draper, and she took out, not only the +customary wafer ginger cookies and a bottle of lemonade, but also some +sandwiches and some nut cake. + +“I did not know we were going to have quite such a large company when I +put up the lunch,” she said. + +“Never mind,” said Amyas, “I am sure Ellen will be perfectly delighted +to give me her share.” + +After the feast was over, they went back to the apple-trees and picked +apples until the sun went down into a bank of clouds almost as golden +as he was himself. The red letter day was coming to an end; but +there is this peculiar charm about red letter days, that while other +days fade into a blur of forgetfulness, the red letter days are ours +forever; and Lois would always remember the autumn foliage, the golden +sunset, Jessie, Anne, and Ellen, as they flitted about the field, Mrs. +Draper, the restful spot in the picture as she sat and watched them, +and the handsome, graceful Amyas; even the snake and Reuben’s kindness +would not be forgotten. + +When they came to the gentians once more, as they were driving +downhill, Reuben jumped out of the wagon and began to pick some. He was +quickly followed by Amyas. + +“Get enough for me too, Reuben,” Ellen called out. + +“You can get some for yourself, if you want any,” he returned +ungraciously. + +“I guess I will,” and she sprang out of the wagon and joined them. + +Reuben bunched his gentians together clumsily and held them out +awkwardly to Lois without a word. “I must be sure to thank him,” she +thought. “Thank you very much. I am sorry you had so much trouble,” she +said shyly. + +“That’s no matter.” + +Amyas brought a bouquet of gentians, most daintily arranged, to Jessie, +which he handed her with his accustomed grace. He then presented his +sister Anne with another. + +Lois looked down at the flowers in her lap. Anne’s and Jessie’s had a +value which hers did not possess. + +“I wish Amyas had given me some,” she thought. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +GRANDMOTHER LOIS + + +Lois’s grandmother, for whom she was named, was coming to make the +Pages a visit, and both Lois and her mother were looking forward to +this event with secret misgivings. Lois tried to think that she was +very fond of her grandmother, but for some reason she never felt +comfortable in her presence, and the more she admired her stately +figure and rapid flow of language, the more awkward and tongue-tied +she felt herself to be. To begin with, her grandmother had made it +very evident that she would have liked her much better if she had been +a boy. As for Lois herself, she was only too thankful that she had +escaped this fate, for boys and dogs were to her mind the dark blots in +an otherwise fair world. + +“Lois, I think you had better come to the train with me to meet your +grandmother,” said Mrs. Page, on the afternoon when their guest was to +arrive. + +“Jessie and I were going to the Morgans’ to play croquet.” + +“You can go there afterwards.” + +“Jessie has a music lesson afterwards.” + +“Well, I am sorry for your disappointment, but I would like to have you +come with me.” + +The train was nearly an hour late, and Lois’s patience was almost +exhausted. + +“If we had only known it was going to be late, I could have gone to the +Morgans’,” she said, over and over, until her mother felt like saying, +“I am sure I wish that you had.” + +At last the train steamed into the station, and Mrs. Page went +forward as the passengers began to get out. Among the first was an +alert-looking lady, a little past fifty, wearing a well-made black suit +and a black hat with ostrich plumes. + +“I am sorry your train is so late,” said Mrs. Page, as she shook hands +with her mother-in-law. “Come, Lois, take your grandmother’s bag.” + +Lois, who had hold of her mother’s hand, and was hanging back in the +vain hope of escaping observation, now had to come forward. + +“Bless me! How Lois has grown! She is large for her age, and how she +looks like her father around the eyes! She is an out-and-out Page.” + +Lois was not sure whether this was meant as a compliment. + +“There is a hack over here,” said Mrs. Page. “Will you give me your +check?” + +“Here it is. I would rather walk.” + +“They don’t charge anything extra for passengers, so you might as well +ride.” + +“If that is not New Hampshire all over! It is just as cheap for me to +do something I don’t want to do, and so you propose that I should ride +in that stuffy hack, so as to get the full value of twenty-five cents.” + +“Oh, if you would rather walk, we will,” said Mrs. Page, a little +disconcerted. “Only it seems so inhospitable.” + +“What a quaint little town it is,” said the elder Mrs. Page, as they +walked up the village street. “I used to tell my husband I could stay +away twenty years, and not one hair would have changed on anybody’s +head. I am sure those are the same bony horses of my youth, that are +tied around the paling of the common. Look at that eccentric old fellow +in arctics! Is he preparing for a snowstorm?” + +“That is Captain Taft, Sophie Brown’s father. He can’t find anything +else that is comfortable for his feet.” + +“Well, I like his independence. I suppose if he had taken the trip up +the Nile with us last winter, he would have pursued his way calmly +through Egypt in those things. They were planning to have a new block +for Chauncey and the drug-store when I was here three years ago, but I +see they haven’t got around to it yet. I wonder if they have any dotted +veiling at Chauncey’s. When I was here last, they told me they had such +a run on it that it was too much trouble to keep it in stock. I should +think they might at least paint the building.” + +“It is a shabby-looking block,” said Lois’s mother. + +“You need not apologize for it, my dear. We all know that if you owned +that block it would be scrubbed to a point of painful neatness. I +suppose your house is as immaculate as ever, and that every piece of +furniture is in the same place. I always think of your house as the +house where nothing happens, and, my dear, that is a great compliment. +It is the house of rest, the house of standards and simple living. When +I am tired with the strain of life, or of rushing around the world, I +think of your house as of a haven of peace, and when I get to be an old +lady, I am coming to spend a whole summer with you.” + +“That will be very nice,” said Mrs. Page. “I don’t know whether it +would be polite of me to hope you will be an old lady soon.” + +“Elizabeth, it is never required of you to tell anything but the truth. +You can’t tell polite fibs with a good grace. I know you are wondering +when I shall consider myself old, and what on earth you would do with +me for a whole summer. Why, that is Sophie Brown, isn’t it, and her +little girl? How do you do, Sophie? I was glad to see your father +looking so well. Is this Gertrude? How she has grown, and how much she +looks like you!” + +“What a plain child!” said the elder Mrs. Page, as they passed out of +hearing. “And what a quantity of freckles she has! I know a wash which +is good for freckles.” + +When they reached the Pages’ gate, Lois’s grandmother gave a +comprehensive glance at the white house with the green blinds and green +front door, and the spotless brass knocker. + +“Elizabeth, it would do me good to see everything belonging to you in +wild chaos and confusion,” she said. + +“I am doing the best I can for you in that line. Jessie Matthews is +having her music lesson, so I shall have to take you straight up to +your room.” + +When Mrs. Luther Page came down at tea-time, she was much struck with +the change in the parlor. + +“How cosy the room looks with a piano in it!” she said. “The very fact +that it is such a large piano and such a small room gives a sort of +rakish charm to the place; but, Elizabeth, how could you make up your +mind to the innovation?” + +“It is the Matthewses’ piano; Jessie’s mother wanted her to go on with +her music lessons.” + +“And so this is Jessie! My dear, how very large you are of your age. +She is the image of her father, isn’t she? I suppose your mother is as +beautiful as ever?” + +“Yes, she is,” said Jessie. “It is a pity I don’t look like her, +isn’t it?” and she flashed a glance at Lois’s grandmother, so full of +a certain quiet amusement in the situation that the elder Mrs. Page +suddenly felt as if she must look after her manners, in the presence of +this young critic. + +Lois’s grandmother had brought down a large box done up in white paper +tied with a pink ribbon. + +“I have a belated birthday present here for you, Lois,” she said. “I +brought it all the way from Paris.” + +Lois undid the parcel with eager fingers. Inside the box was a complete +millinery establishment for dolls. There were several untrimmed hats, +and there were tiny feathers and flowers and gauze scarfs to trim them +with, and there were the standards to put them on, such as there are +in shops. Lois was so delighted that she could hardly speak. + +Jessie, on the other hand, was loud in her exclamations. + +“I hope you like it, Lois,” said her grandmother. + +Did she like it! Lois raised her eloquent eyes to her grandmother’s +face. She felt that she had never liked anything so much in her whole +life. + +“And who is this person?” and Mrs. Luther Page went forward to stroke +the cat, who had settled herself for a nap in the deep Morris chair. +“Elizabeth Page! That I should have lived to see the day that you would +allow a cat in the precincts of your parlor! I adore cats. They are as +sacred to me as they are to the Egyptians. What is her name?” and she +turned to Lois. + +“Minnie. I wrote to you about her coming to us,” said Lois shyly. + +“Yes, I remember now, but I never really get a person into my mind +until I have been introduced to her. Minnie, I am Lois’s grandmother, +and so we must be good friends.” + +Lois’s mother stooped to lift Minnie out of the Morris chair. + +“Don’t do that, Elizabeth. She will hate me if you do. There are plenty +of chairs here. Goodness! who is this walking in? A second cat? Oh, I +see, it is only a kitten.” + +“It is very large of its age,” said Jessie, “and it is not beautiful +like its mother.” + +“You saucy child!” said Lois’s grandmother, and from that moment she +and Jessie were firm friends. + +“It is a witch kitten,” said Lois, who could not bear to be left out of +the conversation. “Do you notice, grandmother, that it has double paws? +Witch kittens are very lucky; we have had a lot of luck since it came.” + +“I have always wanted one of those six-toed kittens. Do you mean to +keep it? Or may I have it when I go home?” + +“I have been trying to get some one to take it for the last two +months,” said Mrs. Page. “It will be another proof of our extraordinary +luck if you will take it.” + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE HOUSE WHERE NOTHING HAPPENED + + +Lois’s grandmother had never enjoyed a visit at her daughter-in-law’s +so much as this one. To begin with, the witch kitten helped to cement +the bond between herself and Lois; and then in the second place, +there was Jessie, who stood as an interpreter, and was always ready +to draw Lois out, and Lois talking was quite a different child from +Lois silent, as her grandmother found. Then, too, the craze for +Bridge had reached the town, and Mrs. Luther Page was never happier +than when playing this game. Several Bridge parties were given in her +honor, and she was asked to dinner at the Drapers’, and to supper at +various houses, including Sophie Brown’s, where she had the pleasure of +seeing Captain Taft, who had exchanged his arctics for some slippers, +embroidered in dull yellow on a green background, by a niece in Dakota. +Best of all, however, were the long drives that the Brierfield horses +made possible, when Mrs. Page and her daughter-in-law and the children +explored the neighboring country, driving through the woods, or to the +summits of distant hills. + +The bright autumn coloring had gone, and the dull shades of early +November had taken its place, but there was a peculiar charm in the +soft haze of these Indian summer afternoons. So the time sped by, and +Grandmother Lois, who had come for one week, decided to stay until the +middle of November. + +There were only three days of her visit left, when she was sitting one +evening in the parlor, with her daughter-in-law and the children. + +“This is my last quiet evening in the dear house where nothing +happens,” she said, as she took out her embroidery. “I wish I hadn’t +promised to play Bridge at the Smiths’ to-morrow. I dislike Mrs. Smith; +she is a pert little upstart. But what could I do? The Bridge birds of +a feather who flock together are sometimes a very queerly assorted set. +Dear me! I have lost my needle! How tiresome!” + +“I have some,” said Jessie, and she took out a needle-book tied with +pink ribbon. + +“Mrs. Draper gave her that. It was the second prize in the +darning-class,” Lois explained. “Anne Morgan got the first, and I got +the third because I improved so much. It is a pincushion that looks +just like an apple. Wouldn’t you like to see it, grandmother?” + +“Of course I should.” + +Lois brought out her pincushion and showed it with pride. + +“Ellen had the fourth prize,” she continued. “It was a red crocheted +pincushion made to look like a tomato. Mrs. Draper gave it to her +because Ellen is so fond of vegetables. We didn’t know there were to be +more than two prizes, and it was such a lovely surprise!” + +Every one went to sleep as peacefully as usual that night, and it was +a little past one o’clock before the disturbance began. They were all +good sleepers, and the bell of the town hall rang noisily for some +time, and yet none of them waked. Then it stopped for a while and +rang again, and it was followed by the louder peal of the bell on the +Methodist Church, which was very near. Grandmother Lois was the first +to wake. She had a confused impression that it was the Fourth of July, +then she remembered the season of the year, and listened with growing +apprehension. On the sidewalk below her windows, there was the hurried +tramp of many feet all going in the same direction, and the sound of +voices. She could see no signs of a fire on her side of the house, so +she hastily put on her wrapper, and went into her daughter-in-law’s +room. + +“Wake up, Elizabeth, there is a fire!” she cried. + +The younger Mrs. Page roused herself slowly, and then went to the +window and pushed up the curtain, and she and her mother-in-law peered +out into the night. There was a dull red glow all over the southern +side of the sky, and below it a building was burning and the flames +were leaping up in fantastic shapes. + +“It’s Chauncey’s, I am sure,” said Mrs. Page, “and the wind is bringing +the sparks over in our direction. I am sorry to frighten you, mother, +but I think it would be wise for you to pack your trunk. I must call +Maggie. I hope the children won’t wake.” + +At this moment, however, Jessie was roused by voices directly under her +window, and she was pushing up the curtain. “Lois, Lois!” she called. +“Do wake up and come and look at this beautiful fire. It is the most +glorious thing I ever saw. Just see how the sparks fly!” + +Lois joined her, and the two children stood spellbound at the window. +They watched the flames leap up as if they were live things, and +cover the whole building, and they could hear the shouts of the +crowd. Finally one side of the store fell in, and then there was a +magnificent display of fireworks, with the accompaniment of flying +sparks and hoarse cries from the crowd. + +“Isn’t that wonderful?” said Jessie. + +“Yes, but did you see that? Our fence has caught.” + +They had felt no sense of personal danger before, but had watched the +spectacle as if it were a superior kind of fireworks arranged for their +especial benefit. “Mother, mother!” Lois called, “our fence is on fire!” + +Jessie, meanwhile, was dressing quickly. “Somebody ought to go down +there with buckets of water to put the fire out as soon as it catches,” +she said. + +Lois began to dress too, and Mrs. Page came to their door. “I am sorry +you waked, children. You had better go to bed again; there isn’t +anything you can do. I will wake you if there is any real danger.” + +“But the fence is on fire,” said Lois. + +Just then there was a loud ringing at the door, and Mrs. Page hurried +down. + +“Your fence is on fire,” said Amyas Morgan, “and Reuben and I want some +buckets of water, so we can keep guard and put it out. The whole fire +department is busy down at the square.” + +“Is it Chauncey’s that is burning?” Mrs. Page asked. + +“Yes.” + +“I thought Joe Mills would be sure to come to protect us.” + +“I guess he’s busy saving the kids at his house. The block next +Chauncey’s caught first, and the Donnellys have a tenement there. Joe +discovered the fire, but it was well under way before he could give the +alarm.” + +Mrs. Page and Maggie went to get some old fire buckets, and the boys +departed, full of importance in being so useful. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Luther Page was putting the clothes into her trunk with +nervous haste. + +The wind was blowing strongly from the south, and Elizabeth Page, who +never lost her head, went about the house as calmly as if she had +been accustomed to fires from her childhood, quietly collecting her +valuables and packing them in the trunks that she and Maggie brought in +from the store-room. Seeing her mother so occupied, Lois went into the +play-room to gather up some of her treasures. She had so many that it +was hard to choose, but chief of all were her doll Betty and her little +mahogany bureau and bedstead, a candlestick in the form of a griffin, +the doll’s hat Amyas had given her, and the beautiful millinery outfit +that her grandmother had brought her. Some of these things were a +little hard to carry, but Lois managed to transport them all to her +mother’s room, where she deposited them in a heap on the floor. + +“For heaven’s sake, Lois Page, what are you doing?” asked her mother, +turning around as the last load was brought in. + +“It is just a few of the things I care most about,” said Lois. “I +thought I would bring them in here to save you trouble.” + +Mrs. Page looked at Betty, the doll, sitting among the ruins of her +home, and she could not help laughing, for Betty, even in this hour +of affliction, had the same cheerful, self-satisfied expression that +she always wore. She was leaning back against the bureau, with the hat +Amyas had given her put on awry, and she seemed to say, “Look at me. +See how well I can bear adversity!” + +Jessie, meanwhile, had quietly packed her trunk, and then came in to +see if she could help her Aunt Elizabeth. + +“I am sure there is no real danger,” said Lois’s mother, “but it is +well to be prepared for everything.” + +“Elizabeth,” called the elder Mrs. Page, “you must come and help me. I +am so nervous. There are two dresses I can’t get into my trunk. Nora +packed for me when I came. I don’t see how she managed so cleverly. The +dresses are my black satin and my crêpe de chine. I got everything in, +as I thought, and I had the trunk locked, and then I remembered them; +they were in the back of the closet.” + +Meanwhile Jessie and Lois slipped out to the cat-house to see how +Minnie and Mittens were bearing the excitement. They found them walking +back and forth on the window-sill. Finding that there was nothing to do +for their favorites, it was not in human nature for the children to go +back to the house without first joining the group at the fence. + +Amyas and Reuben were keeping guard manfully; the wind was already +going down, and the sparks that came over were fewer. + +“Hullo, Lois,” said Amyas, “I am afraid the fire is going to fizzle +out.” + +“What a pity!” said Lois. + +“Would you like it better if your house were to get on fire?” Reuben +asked. + +“No. But it is such a beautiful thing to look at, that, as long as +Chauncey’s had to burn, I’d like it to keep on a little longer. There +wasn’t anybody hurt, was there?” + +“A fireman fell and broke his leg. It was very exciting. We wanted to +stay, but we noticed that your fence was on fire, so we came over,” +said Amyas, who always liked the credit for his kind deeds. + +“That was very good of you,” said Lois. She was so taken out of herself +by the fire, that she forgot to be afraid of Amyas and his brother. + +“I wonder if there isn’t anything we can do?” said Jessie. “Do you +suppose the firemen would like some hot coffee?” + +“You bet!” said Amyas. “Here is one of them who would.” + +Jessie went back to the house to tell Mrs. Page that the wind was going +down, and to ask if Maggie might not make some coffee. Lois meant to +follow her, but she stood rooted to the spot, being fascinated by the +spectacle of the fire. + +“Mother didn’t want us to wake up,” she said, “but I wouldn’t have +missed this beautiful sight for anything in the world. It is my first +real fire. When the steam-mill burned, it just happened we were away on +a picnic. I always have the worst luck. Where’s Ellen?” + +“She and Anne never waked up, and mother wouldn’t let me wake them. She +said Ellen would insist on going to the fire, and she didn’t want her +to.” + +“Poor Ellen!” said Lois. It was hard to understand the grown-up point +of view concerning fires. “I should think your mother would have wanted +her to come. It is something she would remember to her dying day.” + +“They’ve got the fire under control now,” said Amyas regretfully. + +Lois had a distinct sense of disappointment. + +A little later hot coffee was served in the Pages’ kitchen, and groups +of firemen came to the door to get it, while Grandmother Lois and +Mrs. Page, Jessie, Lois, Amyas, and Reuben had a picnic lunch in the +dining-room. + +“I did say that I thought Chauncey’s was a disgrace to the village and +that it ought to burn down,” said Lois’s grandmother, “and I did say +that nothing ever happened in your house, and that I should like to see +everything you possessed in wild chaos, but, my dear Elizabeth, I never +expected Fate to take me so seriously.” + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE TRIO CLUB + + +Winter came early that year, and there was a heavy snowstorm on the day +when Grandmother Lois and Mittens left town. In spite of this, however, +several people, besides the family, went to the station to see her off, +including Sophie Brown and her father. + +“Everything comes to him who waits,” said Grandmother Lois, as she saw +the captain coming down the street. “Captain Taft’s arctics have their +proper background at last.” + +Lois and Jessie felt very lonely after Grandmother Lois had departed +with the witch kitten, and it was hard to tell which of them they +missed the most. As for Minnie, she was quite unhappy for a day, +and searched the house for Mittens restlessly, and then, with the +philosophy of her race, she adapted herself to the inevitable. It was +not long before she was consoled for her loss by the arrival of three +kittens, all of them black with white breasts and paws. + +“It is too bad they are all just alike,” said Lois, as she and her +mother and Jessie inspected the basket that held Minnie’s children. + +“I think it is very fortunate,” said Mrs. Page, “for it will be just +as well to keep only one this time, and there will be no trouble in +deciding which it is to be.” + +“You are only going to keep one! Oh, mother!” Lois’s face had a +horror-stricken expression. “We must keep them all!” + +“It is too hard work to find good homes for them. It will be much +kinder not to try to bring them up, than to have to give them poor +homes later.” + +“When I grow up,” said Lois energetically, “I am going to keep as many +cats and kittens as I like. No kitten will have to be sent away.” + +“I am glad it will be some years before you are grown up,” said her +mother. “Now, children, to me these kittens are as alike as three peas +in a pod, but you may choose the one you would rather keep, if you have +a preference.” + +A closer inspection showed that each one had an individual charm. + +“This one is a little beauty,” said Jessie. “See, it has a pink nose, +and a white line that runs up the face.” + +“But it has not half as pretty feet as this darling thing,” said Lois, +picking up a scrap of a kitten. “Now that kitten you have, Jessie, has +white shoes on in front and white stockings behind, while this has four +white shoes.” + +“All right, we’ll save that one.” + +“It would be a wicked shame not to keep this little fellow,” said Lois, +taking up the third kitten. “He is bigger than any of the rest, and his +coat is such a glossy black, and he has such pretty white stockings +behind and white shoes in front; he and the pink-nosed one would make a +fascinating pair. Oh, mother, why can’t we keep them all? Three is such +a small number. There were five kittens at Hollisford.” + +“But we have not as much room for them here.” + +“Mother, it seems as if there were enough sad things in life that had +to be,” said Lois, “without making such unhappiness for Minnie and +Jessie and me. I will promise to find good homes for them all, if you +will only let them live.” + +“Well, dear, I tell you what I will do. I will give you until the end +of the week, and if you can have suitable homes engaged for them by +that time, I will let you keep them all.” + +Lois and Jessie were delighted with this decision, and they +immediately began to rack their brains, to consider where they could +place Minnie’s children to the best advantage. + +“I wonder if Mrs. Draper would take one,” said Lois. “She is very +kind-hearted, and she only has Gem. Let’s go round and ask her.” + +But, tender-hearted as Mrs. Draper was, she had the same extraordinary +point of view concerning cats that seemed to be shared by most grown +people, namely, that one cat is enough for one household. + +“Perhaps Mrs. Donnelly will take one,” Mrs. Draper suggested. “Although +they are so poor, they are very kind to animals, and they lost their +cat at the time of the fire.” + +And so the children went around to the forlorn, bare rooms that were +the temporary home of Mrs. Donnelly and her son Joe Mills, and her six +Donnelly children. + +The little girls went up three flights of narrow, dark stairs, nearly +running into the refrigerator in the entry, and knocked on Mrs. +Donnelly’s door. + +She opened it a crack and peered out to see who was there, and when she +found it was only Jessie and Lois, she flung the door open hospitably. +“Come right in, children. I thought you was the insurance man, and I +did not have anything for him this week. Evelina,” to a small child +who was sitting on the floor, “get up and come to speak to these little +girls, and you stop making such a racket, George Thomas. Excuse the +wash-tub being in the middle of the room; it rained so hard the first +of the week, I didn’t get round to my washing.” + +Meanwhile, Jessie was taking in every detail of the poor little room, +and with her usual desire to help, she was wondering what she could +do to make them a little more comfortable. She quickly decided that +this would not be a happy home for one of the black pussies, and was +wondering what excuse she could give for the call. + +“We have come to see if you would like to engage a kitten,” said Lois, +who had waited for Jessie to speak first. “We heard you lost yours.” + +“I don’t want the bother of any more cats. There’s altogether too many +of them round here now. My! the cat-concerts that go on in the alley +back of us! George Thomas, I told you not to touch the molasses. You +are a bad boy. I shall have to whip you. Beulah! you just let the table +alone.” + +Jessie and Lois sadly left the Donnelly mansion, feeling that one more +dream had failed to come true. On the way home they stopped at the +grocery store to ask the grocer to let them know if he heard of any +one, on his rounds, who wanted a kitten, but he was very discouraging. +“We have two kittens here in the store we want to find homes for,” he +said. + +In recess at school, the next day, Lois asked first one child and then +another if she wanted a kitten. + +“You can never think of but one thing at a time, Lois Page,” said Ethel +Smith. “I’m sick to death of hearing about your cat and her kittens.” + +“Did you say you had a kitten to dispose of?” Miss Benton asked. “We +want one very much; I have been trying to find a black one, but I will +take anything I can get, as I don’t want to wait much longer.” + +“These are black,” said Lois eagerly, “only they have some white on +them; white breasts and paws, and white spots on their faces. Will that +make any difference?” + +“No; I suppose they will catch mice just as well.” + +Lois and Jessie were in a very happy frame of mind, as they went home +from school. To have so successfully found a home for one of their +protégées gave them new courage. + +In the afternoon, Miss Greenleaf, Jessie’s music-teacher, came to give +her a lesson, and was taken out to inspect the kittens. Miss Greenleaf +was young, with a round face and figure, and large eyes that looked +almost like those of a child. She was very much fascinated by the +kittens. “I must have one,” she said. “Why, they are exactly alike, +aren’t they? You will have to call them the Trio Club, and I will give +them musical names. This little thing with the pink nose seems very +full of life; we’ll call her Presto, and the big one can be Andantino, +and the middle-sized one Allegro. The darling things! I will engage +Presto; she is the prettiest.” + +After that, Lois felt happier. To break into a little company dignified +by such a name as the Trio Club, and ruthlessly to destroy a creature +called Andantino or Allegro, seemed too hard-hearted a thing for her +mother to do. + +And yet Lois still had a somewhat insecure feeling, and so she +continued to bore every one she met by saying, “I don’t suppose you +happen to want a young kitten, do you? A black one with the dearest +white paws? We have three of them, and we call them the Trio Club.” + +Finally, at the end of the week, Lois had to go to the dentist to have +a tooth filled. She dreaded it very much, and the fact that both her +mother and Jessie went with her gave her but little comfort. As Lois +sat waiting in the outer room until the last patient should leave, she +thought how much she was going to be hurt, and how hard it was that +holes came in teeth. There were many things about the arrangement of +the world that Lois could not understand. + +She picked up a magazine that lay on the table and began to turn the +leaves. It was a magazine with pictures in it, and some of them were +very pretty, but they failed to distract her mind. Then she looked out +of the window at the men and women who were passing. Did they all have +fillings in their teeth? Finally, the other patient went out and the +awful moment came when Lois mounted the dentist’s chair. After all, it +did not really hurt her much to have the tooth filled. It was expecting +all the time that she was going to be hurt that was the worst part. + +“You have very good teeth,” said the dentist, as he polished off the +filling. He had such a kind expression that a sudden idea seized Lois. + +“We have three black kittens at home,” she said; “they are almost +exactly alike, so we call them the Trio Club, but mother does not want +us to keep any, unless we have homes engaged for them all. You don’t +happen to want a young kitten, do you?” + +“That is exactly what I do want,” said the dentist. + +[Illustration: THE TRIO CLUB] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +A WINTER PICNIC + + +Lois had always liked summer better than winter, but this year she +changed her mind, and thought that nothing could be quite so good as +these December days, when the crisp air sent the blood tingling through +her veins. The white world, with the dark trees powdered with snow, +and in the late afternoons the blood-red sunsets warm and glowing +against the cold white, had an especial charm. And into this world, +as beautiful as fairy-land, Lois walked hand in hand with Jessie and +Ellen; while coasting, sleigh-riding, and skating made a sort of +carnival of each day. Now that her fear of the Morgan boys had been +cured, there was an added interest in having them of the party. Lois +could skate well enough to join the others, and Amyas and Reuben often +took her and Jessie, with their sisters, on coasting-parties. Lois had +never known before the joys of the “double-runner,” and although she +felt she took her life in her hands every time she went down a steep +hill, there was a fearful pleasure in the descent, and a thankfulness +and surprise each time she reached the bottom safely, that made +coasting a pastime of which she never tired. + +“I think,” said Jessie, one morning, “that we ought to do something for +those poor Donnellys at Christmas. I wish we could have a Christmas +tree for them. Couldn’t we, Aunt Elizabeth?” + +“It would be a great amount of work,” said Mrs. Page, “and I know that +a good deal has been done for the Donnellys already. We have been +making some clothes for them in the sewing-circle.” + +“I didn’t mean clothes,” said Jessie; “and we’ll do all the work if +you will only let us have the tree. There are plenty of hemlocks at +Brierfield; I am sure Garrett would cut one down for us. I can see +just the way it would look,” she went on eagerly. “We can get a lot +of candles, and make lovely decorations out of gold and silver paper, +and for very little money we can buy some toys, and the candy can be +put in colored candy-horns, which we can make ourselves. There are six +Donnellys, four girls and two boys, and their rooms are so forlorn! and +we could have the tree in the play-room, where it would not trouble any +one, except the Trio Club, and they could be put into the laundry for +once. Oh, please, Aunt Elizabeth, mayn’t we have it, if we’ll promise +to do all the work, and pay for it ourselves?” + +“Oh, mother, dear, it would be so lovely!” said Lois. “I never had a +Christmas tree.” + +“You never had a Christmas tree!” Jessie exclaimed. “Why, you poor +darling, that seems terrible! I’ll have to put something on the tree +for you.” + +Mrs. Page had learned by experience that Jessie’s ideas were practical +ones, and after a little more debating she said that they could have +the Christmas tree. Anne and Ellen were asked to join in the scheme, +and the children had a secret session one stormy afternoon in the attic +at the top of the Morgans’ house. It was a delightful place, with a +large table and a tool-chest, and plenty of room to work or play. + +“Hullo,” said Amyas, coming in to get some tools, “what are you four up +to?” + +“It is a secret,” said Ellen solemnly, “and no one is to know anything +about it.” + +“What a lot of money you’ve got!” he said, looking into Ellen’s lap, +where the contents of her bank were gathered together in a heap. + +“It isn’t so much as it looks. It’s mostly coppers,” said Ellen in +dejected tones. “I thought there would be a lot more. I haven’t got +all the presents for the family yet, so I am afraid I can only +spare fifteen cents, but Lois is going to give twenty-five and Anne +twenty-five, and Jessie a dollar; that makes a dollar and sixty-five +cents. Don’t you want to give us some money, Amyas?” she added in her +sweetest tones. “It is for a perfectly fine cause.” + +“No, I thank you. I don’t go it blind. If you want any money, you’ve +got to tell me what it’s for.” + +“Why not tell him?” said Anne. “You tell him, Jessie; it is your idea.” + +Amyas was far more interested in the plan than they had dared to hope. +He not only promised them fifty cents, but, what was far better, he +proposed that he and Reuben should go over to Brierfield with them to +get the tree. “We’ll go on the Saturday before Christmas,” he decided, +“and we’ll have a regular spree. We’ll start in the morning, and we’ll +take the double-runner, and when we come to Morse’s hill we’ll coast +down it, and we’ll steal one or two rides behind carts, so it won’t be +too long a walk. We’ll have luncheon out of doors, and then cut the +tree down and bring it home on the sled.” + +The four girls were greatly thrilled by this exciting programme. + +“Oh dear, I’m so afraid mother won’t let me go!” said Lois. + +“Oh, she’ll have to! I’ll make her let you,” said Amyas. + +Mrs. Page did not altogether approve of the scheme. She was afraid it +would be too much for Lois, and she was sure that some of them would +take cold eating out of doors. She weakened after a time, for they were +so bitterly disappointed, and finally said they might go, if they would +have their luncheon in the house at Brierfield, and take some older +person with them. Susan Morgan cheerfully consented to be the older +person. + +Lois was sure it was going to storm on the Saturday before Christmas. +She worked herself up into a fever of anxiety. + +“I know it will snow! It is just my luck.” + +“And I am sure it will be pleasant; it is just my luck,” said Jessie. +“Why not think it is going to be pleasant, and then you will be sure to +have that much fun out of it?” + +Lois waked early the Saturday before Christmas, and she went to the +window and pushed up the curtain. It was not light yet, but there was a +dull streak of red in the east. + +“Wake up, Jessie, wake up!” she cried, “it is going to be a pleasant +day.” + +“It seems almost too cold to go,” said Mrs. Page, after breakfast, as +she looked at the thermometer; “it is only nine above zero, and there +is a wind.” + +“But, mother, you will let us go,” begged Lois. + +“Of course, dear, if the others go, but I am afraid you will not get +very much pleasure out of it.” + +Not get very much pleasure out of it! Jessie and Lois expected to enjoy +the day as they had never enjoyed anything in their whole lives! + +At ten o’clock the Morgans appeared,--such a merry, lively company in +their gay tam-o’-shanters and sweaters, that Mrs. Page changed her +mind, and decided that they were going to have a good time in spite of +the weather. + +“Poor mother,” said Lois, “I hope you won’t be lonely. I wish you were +coming too.” + +“Do come along, Mrs. Page,” Amyas said; “you can get on the +double-runner whenever you are tired.” + +But Mrs. Page was very busy over some Christmas presents, and she was +glad to have a quiet day to herself. + +Every one they passed, as they went along the village street, glanced +at the children with interest. + +“We look as if we were going coasting,” said Ellen. “No one will +imagine what else we are going to do.” + +The first person to speak to them was Captain Taft. “Going coasting?” +he asked. + +“Yes.” + +“Well, I should say there was too cold a wind, but young folks don’t +mind. I suppose I wouldn’t have minded myself, once.” + +And the next was Mrs. Robertson. “Are you going coasting?” she inquired +in disapproving tones. “It is much too cold. I wouldn’t let Dora go.” + +And the third was Joel Carpenter. “Are you going coasting?” he said +joyfully. “I’ll come along too.” + +They were not particularly anxious to have him share their secret, but +they did not know how to get rid of him, and so he joined them. + +They had a glorious coast down Morse’s hill. Lois was on the forward +sled, and it was very exciting to fly past the vanishing trees and then +sweep around the curve near the bottom. She had certainly thought they +would tip over that time. Presently there came along an empty cart +bound for the woods. + +“Let’s steal a ride,” whispered Amyas. He hitched the sled on behind, +and they all got on silently with stealthy tread like conspirators. A +little later the driver turned his head. + +“Good-morning,” he said genially. “Won’t you all get into my cart?” + +His cordiality was something of a shock, and took the zest out of the +stolen ride. + +The lunch at Brierfield was one of the pleasantest parts of the day, +for some huge logs were burning in the hall fireplace, and they all sat +in a semi-circle around the cheerful blaze. Susan and Jessie unpacked +the lunch, and they had a merry meal. If it was not quite so romantic +eating their sandwiches and cake before the fire as it would have been +under the pine-trees, it was certainly more comfortable. + +Best of all was the walk in the afternoon and the choosing a +hemlock-tree. It was very cold and still in the woods, and the snow +was as white as if it had fallen that very day. The mayflowers were +hidden now, and the birches and maples lifted bare branches to the +sky. Everything was different from what it had been on the April day +when Lois was so glad that icy winter was far away, except the pines +and hemlocks, that were as green as if they had forgotten it was not +spring. A red-headed woodpecker, that had perched on a neighboring +branch, flew away at their approach into the heart of the woods. + +“Oh, how beautiful it is!” said Lois. “What a pity that everybody can’t +have such a good time!” + +“Every one can have out of doors if they want it,” said Jessie. + +“Amyas, do see what a nice tree this is! Let’s cut this one down,” said +Ellen. + +“What, that scrubby thing?” Reuben asked. “That’s too lop-sided.” + +“Let’s each choose a tree,” said Anne, and they scattered like a covey +of birds. + +Lois and Jessie kept together, and they found a tree, almost perfect in +its symmetry, tall and yet not too tall. The moment they saw it they +felt it must be _the_ tree. Even Ellen was forced to acknowledge the +wisdom of their choice, and the boys soon felled it and strapped it to +the double-runner. + +The journey back in the afternoon was not so delightful as the morning +trip. + +“I wish that hills could be tipped the other way, like a teeter,” said +Ellen, when they came to Morse’s hill. “It is perfectly horrid to have +that long, steep climb.” + +Lois was beginning to feel very tired, but she tried to look as if she +liked to climb hills. + +“You are tired out, Lois,” said Susan Morgan kindly. + +“I’m not much tired.” + +Reuben began untying the tree. + +“What are you doing?” Amyas asked. “The tree is all right.” + +“I am going to carry it awhile,” said Reuben, “and then Lois and Jessie +can get on the sled, and you and Joel can pull them up the hill.” + +“I am not a bit tired,” said Jessie, and she looked so fresh that Lois +felt ashamed to have given out. + +“I’d like to ride,” said Ellen. + +Reuben gave a scornful laugh. “You? You are as well able to pull Amyas +up the hill as he is to pull you. You’re just lazy.” + +“Why isn’t Lois lazy?” + +“She is tired.” + +“I am sorry to give you so much trouble,” said Lois, as she got on the +sled. She wondered why the boys were so good to her, when in their +heart of hearts they must think her so poor-spirited to get tired. She +wished she were as strong as Jessie and Ellen. + +“We had a splendid time, mother,” said Lois, when they reached home. + +“It was great,” said Jessie. + +“I had a successful day, too,” said Mrs. Page. “I got Grandmother +Lois’s Christmas box packed, and I finished your present and Jessie’s.” + +“How exciting that sounds, mother! I wish we knew what they were.” + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE CHRISTMAS TREE + + +“Oh, mother dear, you can’t come in just yet,” Lois said; “we don’t +want you to see the tree until it is entirely ready.” + +Jessie, having promised that they would do all the work themselves, was +carrying out her agreement to the letter, and Mrs. Page, who wanted to +help them, had to be contented merely to give advice. There had been +many secret sessions in the play-room and in the Morgans’ attic, and +Jessie and Lois had taken several trips to the village store. They had +just come in from a final one now. + +“Your money seems to have held out like the widow’s cruse of oil,” said +Mrs. Page. + +“Why, yes, mother. We thought we had spent it all, and we wanted to +get some more animals, and Reuben gave us twenty cents, and then Joel +Carpenter gave us a quarter, and then Reuben did not like to have Joel +give more than he did, when Joel wasn’t in the secret to begin with, so +Reuben gave ten cents more, and then Joel gave ten, and then Reuben +gave another ten. It was as exciting as an auction. Reuben had to +borrow of Amyas, and Amyas wouldn’t lend him more than ten cents, so +Reuben had to drop out because he was ‘dead broke,’ he said, and Joel +came out five cents ahead of him. I think it was too bad, for he wasn’t +half so interested in the tree as Reuben was.” + +“But it was nice to get the extra five cents,” said Jessie. + +Just before the guests came, Mrs. Page slipped into the play-room, +unseen by Lois and Jessie, and tied six pairs of mittens, and three red +tam-o’-shanters and three blue ones, to the tree. She also decorated +the branches with two pink and two scarlet flannel petticoats, and +some socks. After this she tied on thirteen costume crackers. Then she +quietly slipped out of the room. + +The Donnellys were so afraid of being late that they arrived half an +hour too early. This was a little inconvenient, for Jessie and Lois +were dressing. + +Maggie knocked on their door and said, “Your company has come. They are +waiting in the entry.” + +“Dear me, what shall we do!” said Lois. “Do you mind if they stay in +the kitchen, Maggie, until we come down?” + +“It would hurt their feelings and make them think they had come too +early,” said Jessie. “Aunt Elizabeth,” she called out, “would you mind +talking to the Donnellys until we are ready? Please say how ashamed we +are to be so late. Perhaps they would like to go down to the laundry +and see Minnie and the Trio Club.” + +And so it happened that Mrs. Page headed a procession of six Donnellys, +all painfully shy and all dressed in their best clothes, and took them +down to the temporary dwelling-place of the Trio Club. + +The ice was soon broken, for no one could long feel any stiffness in +the presence of these engaging animals. + +Each Donnelly made a dive for a kitten. George Thomas secured one, +Beulah was the happy possessor of a second, while Michael and Evelina +chased Presto around the room, and Michael finally got her, much to +Evelina’s disappointment. Miriam Donnelly had taken Minnie in her arms, +while May Lilian walked around the room, stroking each kitten in turn. + +“What is this one’s name?” she asked shyly. + +“That is Minnie. That is the mother cat.” + +“My! but she looks like a kitten herself!” said May Lilian. + +“Yes, she is a small cat.” + +“And what is this one’s name?” + +“Allegro.” + +“What a funny name!” + +“I didn’t name her,” said Mrs. Page. “If I had, I should have given her +a good sensible name.” + +“And what is mine called?” asked George Thomas. + +“Andantino.” + +“I guess you didn’t name that one either,” said Michael, with a grin. + +“We are ready now,” Jessie called down. + +The other guests had come, and they were all taken upstairs, and the +door of the play-room was flung open. + +The Morgans and Jessie and Joel Carpenter had seen other Christmas +trees that were more elaborate, while to Lois and the Donnellys, +who only knew Sunday-school and school Christmas trees, there was +an especial charm about this one because it was their very own. The +four Donnelly girls sat in a row on the sofa, with their feet stuck +out primly in front of them. They looked very grave, as if it would +be quite improper to smile. Miriam, who was the oldest, kept them in +excellent order. Michael and George Thomas politely stood until Mrs. +Page asked them to be seated. + +Jessie and Lois gave a cry of pleasure when they saw the petticoats and +tam-o’-shanters. “How perfectly splendid, Aunt Elizabeth!” Jessie said. + +The tree was a pretty sight, for it had many candles on it, and the +little points of light were very brilliant against the background of +green. Everything meant some happy recollection to Lois: the tree +reminded her of that beautiful walk in the woods, and the candy-horns +made her think of a delightful snowy afternoon in the Morgans’ attic, +when she and Jessie and the Morgans sat around the table with paste and +scissors and colored paper. She was so awkward, and Anne and Amyas were +so kind in helping her! And the candles and the animals! Would she ever +forget that trip to the village store, when Amyas came in unexpectedly +and made the clerk take ten cents off the whole amount, because they +had bought so many things? There was a second trip and a third, and +still another, each with some pleasant memory quite distinct from all +the rest. And it was dear Jessie who had made it possible. Without her +they would not have had a Christmas tree. + +The Donnellys were delighted with their presents; even Miriam’s +face relaxed when she was given a blue hair ribbon and a pretty +handkerchief with an M in one corner. George Thomas was much pleased +with a teeter with a yellow chicken on either end. His eyes were glued +to this toy. “First it goes down, and then it goes up, and when one +chicken is up, the other is down,” said George Thomas. + +The costume crackers were a delightful surprise, and Mrs. Page told +the children they might dress up in the contents before they had their +simple refreshments. George Thomas’s costume cracker contained a pink +sun-bonnet, in which he courageously arrayed himself, while Beulah wore +a soldier’s cap, and Lois put on a helmet, and Ellen donned a fool’s +cap. + +“I am sorry we can only have lemonade and Uneeda biscuit and +ginger-snaps,” said Lois, as Maggie came in with a tray; “our money did +not hold out for everything.” + +“It is a pretty good kind of Uneeda biscuit,” said Michael, who had +at last found courage to speak. He had just put on a blue and yellow +toque, and every one seemed so amused by the effect that he felt that, +in spite of Miriam, it was the proper thing to smile. + +Some fairy wand seemed to have changed the Uneeda biscuit into Maggie’s +delicate orange cake and chocolate cake, and presently, in addition +to the lemonade, there came in some raspberry sherbet and macaroon +ice-cream. + +The children’s eyes shone, and George Thomas finally put down his +teeter. + +“First it goes up, and then it goes down,” he said dreamily, “and when +one chicken is--my! what lovely pink and white ice-cream!” + +“You may put your presents on the table,” said Mrs. Page to the +Donnellys, “and then you will have room for your plates.” + +The four Donnelly girls rose and carried their treasures across the +room, and the boys followed their example. + +“Nobody must touch my teeter,” said George Thomas. + +The presents cost very little, but there were a good many of them, for +each Donnelly had a pencil and a block of paper, and the girls had +sheets of colored tissue paper, and bags of beads, while each of the +smaller children had a toy animal, and the older ones were given games +and books that had once belonged to the Morgans. + +After the cake and ice-cream had been eaten, there came the great +surprise of the evening, for Jessie had a small present ready for each +of the Morgans and Joel Carpenter and Lois, as well as another trifle +for each Donnelly. + +Lois’s was a small, flat parcel tied with a pink ribbon. + +“How perfectly lovely!” she said, as she gazed at the contents of the +package. “What a beautiful expression she has!” + +“Is it a photograph of your mother?” asked Amyas. + +“No, it’s my cat. Such a dear picture of Minnie in her basket! I wish I +had a picture of the Trio Club, too.” + +Then to her joy she discovered that there were two mounted photographs, +and lifting the upper one, she saw underneath the three black faces of +the Trio Club standing out in bold relief against the light basket. +“Oh, the darling things!” she exclaimed. “That is Andantino, I am sure, +but I can’t tell Presto and Allegro apart. I wish I could have had a +picture of their legs, but you can’t expect everything.” + +“My goodness! I should say you couldn’t,” said Amyas. “Jessie got me +to take their pictures, and the way they skipped around was a caution. +Just as I thought I had them fixed, one would scramble out of the +basket and scoot off to its mother. And the mother was a terror. Twice +I thought I had got her, when she opened her mouth and yelled. She’s +enough to spoil any picture. The next time Jessie asks me to take the +photograph of a cat, I am going to break my leg, or go out of town.” + +The Morgans and Joel Carpenter went early, as they were going home to +their own Christmas trees, and the Donnellys looked at one another +irresolutely. Miriam was equally afraid of leaving too soon and staying +too late. + +“You haven’t got to go yet,” said Jessie. “It is so early.” + +“I don’t know as there is any great hurry,” said Miriam. + +“Mother said we might stay until half-past seven if you seemed to +expect us to,” said George Thomas. + + * * * * * + +“Well, children, it was a great success,” Mrs. Page said to Jessie +and Lois, as the last Donnelly closed the front door behind him, “and +certainly no children could have better manners than those Donnellys. +You must feel very tired, Jessie dear. Here is a foreign letter for +you; it came in the five o’clock mail.” + +A Christmas letter from her mother! Jessie gave a little cry of delight +as she opened it. There were two foreign postal-cards inside; one was +the charming picture of an Angora cat, for Lois, the other, which was +for Jessie, was a group of three children standing with their arms +around one another. + +“It is like you and Ellen and me,” said Lois. + +Jessie read her letter through eagerly. She glanced up with an +expression of rapturous delight. + +“They are coming earlier than I expected them,” she said. “Father is so +much better, and has his heart so set on getting home, that the doctor +says they may sail in January. Oh, Aunt Elizabeth! It seems too good to +be true!” + +The tears came into Lois’s eyes. The months had been long as they +passed, but as she looked back, it seemed only a short time since that +April afternoon when her dear borrowed sister had alighted at the gate, +and she had gone so eagerly to meet her, and had found the tears in +Jessie’s eyes. Now it was Jessie who was happy and she who was sad. It +was just like George Thomas’s teeter. + +Jessie saw that Lois was crying. “You darling child, what is the +matter?” she asked. + +“I am thinking of the time when you will be going away. It has all been +so lovely, everything from the very first minute. And it will be over +so soon, and you won’t be my sister any more.” + +“It isn’t as if I were going far. We shall see each other every day; +and you will be coming to spend a night with me every week, and I shall +spend a night with you. We shall always be like sisters. If you once +have a sister, you can’t lose her,” said Jessie. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: + + +Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. + +Perceived typographical errors have been corrected. + +Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. + +Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75627 *** |