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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78874 ***
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration: “OH, MINE’S AHEAD!” CRIED MARION.--_Page 27._]
+
+
+
+
+                              MISS POLLY
+                                WIGGLES
+
+                                  BY
+                           EDNA CLARK DAVIS
+
+                            ILLUSTRATED BY
+                             JULIA GREENE
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+                                BOSTON
+                      LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
+
+
+
+
+                           COPYRIGHT, 1925,
+                     BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
+
+                         _All rights reserved_
+
+                          MISS POLLY WIGGLES
+
+                          PRINTED IN U. S. A.
+
+                             Norwood Press
+                          BERWICK & SMITH CO.
+                            NORWOOD, MASS.
+
+
+
+
+                                  TO
+
+                          MY NIECE ELIZABETH
+
+                     THE ORIGINAL “POLLY WIGGLES”
+                             OF THE STORY
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                             PAGE
+
+  CHAPTER 1. AT “THE LILACS”                    9
+
+  CHAPTER 2. THE DOLLS’ BATHING-PICNIC         21
+
+  CHAPTER 3. GAMES                             33
+
+  CHAPTER 4. CUBBY’S ADVENTURE                 50
+
+  CHAPTER 5. LIMERICKS                         66
+
+  CHAPTER 6. TEA AT MISS HELEN’S               84
+
+  CHAPTER 7. OUT IN THE STORM                  99
+
+  CHAPTER 8. CUBBY PLAYS NURSE                112
+
+  CHAPTER 9. THE RESULTS                      127
+
+  CHAPTER 10. GRANDMOTHER’S STORY-QUILT       140
+
+  CHAPTER 11. WHEN MOTHER WAS A LITTLE
+              GIRL                            150
+
+  CHAPTER 12. GRANDPA TELLS A STORY           164
+
+  CHAPTER 13. THE ENCHANTED PALACE WAKES      177
+
+  CHAPTER 14. AN OLD FRIENDSHIP RENEWED       191
+
+  CHAPTER 15. GABRIEL’S SURPRISE              201
+
+  CHAPTER 16. HAIL TO THE KING AND QUEEN OF
+              THE MAY!                        211
+
+  CHAPTER 17. CUBBY GOES VISITING             230
+
+  CHAPTER 18. AN INTERRUPTED TEA-PARTY        244
+
+  CHAPTER 19. MAY-BASKETS                     265
+
+  CHAPTER 20. THE MAY FROLIC                  291
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+  “Oh, mine’s ahead!” cried Marion (Page 27)      _Frontispiece_
+
+                                                    FACING PAGE
+
+  There was a crash, and a ball of fire seemed to
+  drop from the sky                                         102
+
+  She hastily uncorked it and took a sniff                  126
+
+  Beneath his nimble, clever fingers the flag grew
+  rapidly                                                   214
+
+  “Oh, yes, I like frosted cakes derry much”                252
+
+  He helped Polly Wiggles into the large pink rose
+  that formed her seat                                      300
+
+
+
+
+MISS POLLY WIGGLES
+
+CHAPTER ONE
+
+AT “THE LILACS”
+
+
+“The Lilacs” was such a pretty place; at least Elizabeth said so, and
+every one that saw it was likely to agree with her. It was really the
+country home of Grandmother and Grandfather Carr, and Aunt Elsie,
+Elizabeth’s young-lady aunt, but every summer the Eatons went there,
+too.
+
+In the first place it was so convenient for Dr. Eaton’s practice, and
+that was the most important consideration, for a doctor had to be able
+to get to his patients quickly, and The Lilacs was only a half-hour run
+in the automobile from his city office. Then, too, the children loved
+it, and both Dr. and Mrs. Eaton believed it good for their little girls
+to play around in the sweet country air.
+
+Now let me tell you about the Eatons. First there was Dr. Daddy, as the
+children called him, who was a very busy man, but always ready for a
+smile, or a romp with his little brood. Then came Mrs. Eaton, who was
+the prettiest young mother any one could imagine, with big brown eyes
+that beamed lovingly at her little try-patiences. She was Aunt Elsie’s
+older sister, and Grandmother and Grandfather Carr’s big daughter, so
+you can imagine the good times they all had together.
+
+As for the children, I must first tell you what they called themselves.
+There were just the three little girls. Jeannette, the eldest, was
+well past nine and already quite a schoolgirl. Then came Elizabeth, or
+Polly Wiggles, as every one nearly always called her. Grandfather Carr
+had given her the nickname, because she was such an active little girl
+that he declared she was “always on the wiggle,” and that the stately
+name of Elizabeth did not suit her at all. She was nearly as tall as
+Jeannette, but more than a year younger, and more than four years older
+than Evelyn, the baby of the family.
+
+And what do you suppose they called themselves? Why, “The Three Bears,”
+to be sure. When they were younger, Mother had read them the famous
+story many times, and while Evelyn was still a baby it was Elizabeth’s
+fertile brain that thought, “Why, we’re three bears ourselves.
+Jeannette is the great big bear, I’m the middle-sized bear, and Evelyn
+is the wee little cubby bear.” It was a favorite play with the children
+after that, and Evelyn was called “Cub” and “Cubby” so much, that the
+name stuck, as many a nickname will, and even Mother and Father called
+this chubby, roly-poly, golden-curled daughter, “Cubby.”
+
+The children were never happier than when at The Lilacs, for they
+dearly loved their grandparents and Aunt Elsie. Elizabeth was named
+after Grandmother Carr, and was very proud of the fact, while Jeannette
+had her mother’s name, and Evelyn was the name of Dr. Daddy’s mother,
+or their dear silver-haired Grandmother Eaton, who had a home at the
+seashore.
+
+Grandmother Carr’s hair was as brown as Jeannette’s, with scarcely
+a silver thread in it, but, as Elizabeth said, “Grandfather’s head
+pushed up through his hair,” and all around the sides it was gray.
+
+It was early May, but already the big colonial house had been opened
+for the season, for Cubby was still coughing from the effects of the
+whooping-cough, and Dr. Daddy thought it wise to leave the city.
+
+So Jeannette and Elizabeth were taken from their own school and
+attended the country school at Meadowbrook that was within easy
+walking-distance of The Lilacs. Jeannette was in the fifth grade and
+Elizabeth in the fourth, for both little girls were fond of books and
+well up in their studies. They always took their lunches with them, for
+the noon period was short, and besides, it was great fun to eat picnic
+luncheons on the green slope outside the school, especially as their
+two best playmates were with them.
+
+It was a beautiful Saturday morning. Bees were already busy sipping
+honey from the flowers that grew in profusion in the old-fashioned
+gardens, and blue and yellow butterflies paused to kiss the purple and
+white lilac plumes that sweetened the air with fragrance and gave the
+place its name.
+
+Under the apple-trees by the brook that wound its way about the orchard
+back of The Lilacs, and through the meadows and little woods beyond,
+there was a great chattering going on that would make any one think
+that at least a dozen little girls were talking at once, instead of
+four.
+
+Aunt Elsie, hidden behind a row of purple lilac blossoms, smiled as
+she pressed closer in her arms the big gray cat she was carrying, and
+watched the four little girls who were comfortably lying on their
+stomachs in the green grass, for Elizabeth’s and Jeannette’s best
+friends had come over to play.
+
+Alice Maxfield was an only child, and lived next door to The Lilacs in
+a pretty summer home called “Sweet Briar.” She and Elizabeth had been
+the best of chums since baby days, and Polly Wiggles’ thick black curls
+and Alice’s smooth bobbed blonde locks were entwined as together they
+looked over a new book of fairy-tales. They were both eight, and in the
+same class at school. Marion West was a year older, and the same age
+as Jeannette, but she was such an unusually big girl for her age that
+she could easily have passed for eleven, and overtopped Jeannette by
+half a head.
+
+Marion was visiting her grandparents for the summer at their home,
+called “Blossom Banks,” which was farther down the avenue. Her father,
+Dr. West, was minister in the church the Eatons attended in the city,
+and he usually spent his summers at Meadowbrook. Both she and Jeannette
+were busy knitting scarfs for their dolls, and, to judge by the snarl
+Jeannette’s wool was in, it would take Mother or Grandmother many
+minutes to untangle it.
+
+Aunt Elsie smiled again at the pretty picture the children made in
+their bright gingham dresses, for the four little girls were four such
+different types. Maybe that was the reason they got along so well
+together, for misunderstandings were few and far between, and quarrels
+almost unknown.
+
+Alice was plump and rosy, with golden hair cut “Dutch,” and the bluest
+of blue eyes. She was a dear little girl, with just enough quietness
+in her nature to balance the more mischievous and irrepressible Polly
+Wiggles. For Wiggles was mischievous. As Daddy said, “If there was any
+scrape to be gotten into, Wiggles was in.”
+
+Such black crinkly curls had Wiggles, hanging just below her shoulders,
+and her blue eyes fairly danced with the joy of living. Grandfather
+used to say, with a twinkle in his gray eyes, “You’re such a thin
+wisp of a girl that some day a puff of wind will blow you away,” and
+Wiggles used to laugh at the idea of sailing away over housetops like a
+dried leaf. For no amount of teasing ever bothered her, which was most
+fortunate, for they were a fun-loving family, although all teasing was
+good-natured.
+
+Jeannette had curls, too, long ones, but as Wiggles declared, “They
+hung down in the way curls should go, and didn’t snarl all up like
+corkscrews.” Then, too, Jeannette had brown eyes like Mother, and a
+great deal of Mother’s sweet, calm disposition. She was a thoughtful
+little girl, and rarely got into the funny scrapes that her active
+sister did.
+
+Marion, who was clever with her fingers, was really doing creditable
+work on her doll’s scarf that was to match a cunning little sweater her
+grandmother had made. She was a child who took things earnestly, and
+had a mass of rippling red hair that hung far below her waist, and was
+almost too heavy for comfort.
+
+Wiggles was in a pretty pink gingham dress, and Alice had on her
+favorite blue. Jeannette declared that was why it was called “Alice
+blue.” Jeannette’s frock was buff, and Marion’s, leaf-green, that
+contrasted with her glowing mane of hair.
+
+“I wish my hair grew as quickly as yours,” said Alice, twisting one of
+the glowing locks around her finger as she spoke. For Marion’s hair was
+cut to her shoulders regularly each summer, and by the next spring it
+was long enough to sit on.
+
+“I don’t think Mother will cut it this year,” replied Marion, “but it
+does get so warm and prickly-heaty. It’s lots more comfortable like
+yours, Alice.”
+
+Alice ruffled her short blonde locks disconsolately. It made no
+difference how much she mussed herself or disarranged her hair, as,
+for some mysterious reason, she always looked immaculate, and hair,
+dresses, and ribbons seemed to fall again into correct folds, no matter
+how hard she played.
+
+Maybe that was one reason that she and Wiggles were such chums, because
+the contrast was so great. It was a marvelous feat for Wiggles to
+arrive home from school intact, for either hair-ribbon or handkerchief
+would have vanished, or yawning gathers would show where skirt had once
+joined waist before she had indulged in a few games. Wiggles left each
+game looking a wreck. Alice was unruffled.
+
+It was a peculiar fact, and one that Wiggles greatly deplored. As
+Mandy, the colored cook, declared, “Trouble suah flies to dat chile as
+de spahks fly upwahd.”
+
+At the present moment Wiggles’ clean pink gingham had grass-stains
+front and back, of which she was serenely unconscious, and the big
+butterfly bow on her hair had slid down to the very tip of one fat
+black curl, and was rescued from falling off by Marion, who neatly tied
+it anew.
+
+Aunt Elsie parted the lilac-bushes gently and placed the beautiful gray
+Persian cat, her special pet and pride, on the grass.
+
+“Now be a good pussy,” she whispered into one furry ear, “and take my
+message.”
+
+Just as if he understood each word,--and maybe he did,--Pussy arched
+his beautiful fluffy tail over his back and picked his way daintily
+over the violet-strewn grass. Aunt Elsie slipped back behind the
+concealing bushes and watched his leisurely progress.
+
+“Why, look!” exclaimed Jeannette, “here comes Boots. Here, Boots,
+Boots!”
+
+“What is that thing around his neck, under his chin?” asked Alice
+curiously, peering at the beautiful pussy. “Why is he called ‘Boots,’
+Wiggles?”
+
+“’Cause his really-truly name is Puss-in-Boots,’” explained Wiggles,
+teetering on one foot as she spoke. “He is marked with four white
+boots on his paws, so we call him Boots, for short. Isn’t he a booful
+angel pussy? There,” with a change of tone, “he has something around
+his neck, sure as can be. Isn’t that queer? Wait and I’ll see what it
+is.”
+
+With a dart she pounced on the fuzzy Boots, and with much astonishment
+unfastened a tiny gay green-and-white basket that had been fastened to
+his collar.
+
+“Oh, my goodness, girls, he’s a postman, or postcat!” she squealed,
+much excited. “Here are four little letters addressed to us in the
+basket,--one for each of us.”
+
+Boots, much relieved to be separated from his “mail-sack,” curled down
+in Jeannette’s lap and took cat-naps, while four excited little girls
+tore open the tiny pink envelopes, and read this invitation:
+
+ “You are invited to a dolls’ bathing-picnic at ten-thirty this morning
+ at Fleur-de-Lys Point. Bring your little dolls, and dolls’ furniture.”
+
+Four little girls squealed with pleasure.
+
+“I’ll have to ask permission,” exclaimed Marion and Alice in one
+breath. “Won’t it be lovely? What time is it now?”
+
+“It’s just ten o’clock,” announced Aunt Elsie, appearing beside
+the little girls, “and I already have asked permission of Marion’s
+grandmother and Alice’s mother, so it won’t be necessary for you to go
+home, as you have your dolls with you.”
+
+“Oh,” squealed Wiggles, “then let’s pack and go quick.” With a rush she
+was off to the house, and reappeared a few minutes later with a huge
+market-basket, into which dolls, furniture, and dishes had been dumped
+pell-mell. To this she added Jeannette’s, Alice’s, and Marion’s dolls.
+
+Then, led by Aunt Elsie, carrying a big red sunshade, and followed by
+the faithful Boots, the little party crossed the rustic bridge and
+walked through the green meadow-grasses along the brook, to the spot
+near the woods that had been named Fleur-de-Lys Point.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWO
+
+THE DOLLS’ BATHING-PICNIC
+
+
+“What is a dolls’ bathing-picnic, Aunt Elsie?” inquired Wiggles
+curiously. “Our dolls can’t swim, you know.”
+
+“Wait and see,” replied Aunt Elsie mysteriously.
+
+“You do think of the nicest things,” said Jeannette, slipping her hand
+in her aunt’s.
+
+Here Wiggles, who had scurried on ahead of the others, came puffing
+back, her hair in a wild curly mass from heat and perspiration.
+
+“I could just see the Point,” she panted breathlessly, “and, what do
+you think, Auntie? I could see some horrid boys there, so we won’t be
+able to go there after all. Isn’t that mean?”
+
+“Ugh! I hate boys,” cried Alice. “You can have so much nicer times
+when there are just girls. I do think all boys ought to live in a
+menagerie, they’re so fond of bugs, and toads, and horrid things.”
+
+“Well,” confessed Aunt Elsie, “you see, I invited some boys myself, so
+I don’t doubt but that they are there ahead of us.”
+
+“You did? Boys?” echoed Wiggles. “To a dolls’ party? Why, Auntie!”
+
+Aunt Elsie laughed again. “They’ll only be with us for a little while,”
+she explained. “I asked Marion’s brother, Hugh, and your own cousins,
+Billy and Dick. They won’t be so bad, will they?”
+
+“I hope not,” replied Jeannette, doubtfully it must be confessed. “They
+always have to race around and upset and break things so, and make such
+a noise.”
+
+The four little girls walked on together, arms around each other’s
+waists, brown, black, yellow, and red hair mingling.
+
+“I do think boys are disgustable creatures,” declared Wiggles, tossing
+her curls. “No good at all unless you want to go swimming or something.”
+
+“I think so, too,” declared Marion unexpectedly. “Always pulling my
+hair and calling me, ‘Carrots’ and ‘Red Head’ and ‘Ginger.’”
+
+“The idea!” said Jeannette indignantly. “Your hair is perfectly
+beautiful.”
+
+“It’s what is called ‘Tissue’ hair,” announced Wiggles with an air of
+wisdom. “I heard one of the teachers say so, though I can’t see why
+it’s called that. It’s not a bit like tissue paper.”
+
+“Oh, Wiggles!” laughed Jeannette; “you’ll certainly kill me. It’s
+‘Titian’ hair, not ‘Tissue,’ and ‘Titian’ is a Latin or Greek name for
+‘red,’ I think.”
+
+“Well,” agreed Wiggles serenely, joining in the laughter, “it’s a much
+more ’spressive word than ‘red,’ anyway.”
+
+Fleur-de-Lys Point was well named. There the brook gurgled along
+over flat stones and tiny pebbles, while masses of purple and white
+fleur-de-lys clustered about its bank, and even sent up daring shoots
+of green in the rippling water. The mossy bank was thickly carpeted
+with violets, and under a huge old willow-tree, that spread its
+drooping boughs over the crystal waters, the “disgustable” boys were
+waiting.
+
+Wiggles’ cousins, Billy and Dick Gerard, were really very nice, jolly
+boys, full of spirits and boyishness, and, notwithstanding the little
+girls’ previous remarks, they were very fond of their good-natured
+cousins. Richard, or Dick as he was called, was ten; and William, who
+never answered to anything but “Bill,” or “Billy,” was past twelve.
+They were both strong, husky lads, with dark hair and eyes like
+Jeannette’s.
+
+Hugh, Marion’s brother, was Dick’s inseparable pal and bosom crony, and
+had a head of heavy mahogany-colored hair several shades darker than
+his sister’s.
+
+“If there isn’t Polly Wiggles,” greeted Billy. “Wiggles, every single
+hair on your head stands erect.”
+
+The four little girls dropped down on the mossy bank, first carefully
+putting the market-basket, which they had taken turns in carrying, at
+the gnarled roots of the willow tree.
+
+“Isn’t it lovely and shady here?” said Alice with a blissful sigh of
+content.
+
+“Usually is shady under a tree,” teased Dick.
+
+“Goodness,” said Marion, wiping her flushed face and trying to hold up
+her heavy hair away from her neck.
+
+Aunt Elsie secured both Jeannette’s and Marion’s long locks with
+hairpins on top of their heads, and the two little girls felt quite
+grown up.
+
+“Wiggles looks like a Fiji Islander,” said Hugh, for every strand
+corkscrewed out from her head in a mass of short, kinking curls.
+
+“All you need is a ring in your nose,” gibed Billy.
+
+“Well,” agreed Wiggles unruffled, “if I had a ring, I’d be a ‘belle’
+I s’pose.” There was a general shout at this, and Billy pretended to
+faint away at such brain work in one so young.
+
+Then Aunt Elsie pointed to the willow boughs above them, and, looking
+up, the little girls spied four small bundles, tied to the branches
+within easy reach of their eager hands, and each package was marked
+with a little girl’s name.
+
+“More s’prises,” beamed Wiggles. “I just love s’prises. Oh!” with a
+shriek of joy; “just see what I have,” and she held aloft the dearest
+little celluloid doll, dressed in a brilliant scarlet bathing-suit.
+
+“And mine,” echoed Jeannette, holding up a blue-clad bather. Alice and
+Marion had the same, but Marion’s doll wore a green suit, and Alice’s a
+purple.
+
+“Now,” said Aunt Elsie briskly, “we will have a swimming contest for
+the four doll-ladies.”
+
+Seeing the girls’ look of surprise, the boys shouted.
+
+“Celluloid floats, you know,” Dick explained to the girls at large.
+“What’s the matter? Are you afraid they’ll spoil their bathing-suits?”
+
+Billy acted as master of ceremonies, and at his, “One, two, three, go!”
+each doll fell with a splash from the stone where it had been held by
+its little owner.
+
+The current carried them gently down-stream, and even the boys became
+excited in seeing which would pass the “tape” first, which was a piece
+of string from Hugh’s pocket, fastened across the brook to the bushes
+on each side.
+
+“Oh, mine’s ahead!” cried Marion, her eyes intent on the green-clad
+swimmer.
+
+“There goes Wiggles’ first,” said Billy, as Marion’s doll suddenly
+swung round in a circle, delaying its progress.
+
+“See mine, see mine!” squealed Alice, jumping up and down on the bank,
+and nearly tumbling in to join the bathers.
+
+But it would take too long to tell you all the details of the “swim,”
+except to say that Wiggles’ doll was side-tracked by a surprised little
+turtle, that snapped angrily at the red cloth, thinking it, no doubt, a
+new variety of food. How the children screamed with laughter, Wiggles
+as much as any one, although it put her out of the race, as her doll
+bumped and stopped against a stone.
+
+Jeannette’s doll swam straight into a mass of fleur-de-lys and became
+entangled among them, but Alice’s and Marion’s dolls went gayly
+on down-stream, sometimes one ahead, sometimes the other, until a
+fluttering breeze caught the purple doll and rushed her under the line
+victorious.
+
+Such cheers as then arose! Even the boys clapped and acknowledged that
+they would never have believed a doll’s race could be so thrilling.
+Then, after the swimmers had been rescued and were once more on dry
+land, Alice’s doll received a prize, which proved to be a cunning
+little clock for her doll-house, that could tick when wound, and wave
+its pendulum back and forth.
+
+If care had not been taken, the boys would have had it apart, to see
+“what made it go.” So busy were the girls admiring the prize that
+they never noticed when the boys slipped away into the woods for a
+few moments, and they jumped with a start when the three lads crept
+up behind them and tumbled into each little girl’s lap,--what do you
+suppose? A cunning little birch-bark canoe, made with their own hands
+from scraps of bark. You can imagine how pleased they were.
+
+“Where did you get them?” cried Jeannette, gazing admiringly at her
+tiny craft.
+
+“We made them yesterday, and Aunt Elsie sewed the ends for us,”
+answered Dick.
+
+“Then we hid them in a stump in the woods until now,” explained Hugh.
+“Aren’t they crackerjacks?”
+
+“Ladies and gentlemen,” called Bill, “the next race will be a canoe
+race. Only members of the Fleur-de-Lys Country Club may take part in
+this, and all who enter must pay an admission fee of one gold-piece,
+and, of course, the usual war tax.”
+
+As dandelions were accepted for gold, and violets for the taxes, the
+members soon paid their fees, and the Fleur-de-Lys Country Club race
+was ready for action.
+
+“Man your boats!” cried Billy.
+
+Into each canoe went a brave swimmer, still in full bathing costume.
+What mattered it that each doll had to lie flat on her back, owing to
+an inability to sit, as most celluloid dolls are made unbendable.
+
+“It’s a clever canoeist indeed,” laughed Aunt Elsie, “that can paddle
+while lying down.”
+
+Then Billy called again, “One, two, three, go!” and away the tiny
+crafts sailed, puffed along by the soft spring breezes. The same tape
+was again the goal. But, alas, Alice’s and Jeannette’s boats came to
+grief very soon. They rammed one another, capsized, and would have
+floated unmanned if they had not been rescued by Hugh.
+
+“He deserves a life-saver’s medal,” laughed Wiggles, as the dripping
+purple and blue dolls were carried ashore.
+
+“We must roll them over a barrel to bring them to life,” cried
+Jeannette. “That’s what they always do if you nearly drown.”
+
+This proved very absorbing, with a large stone used as a barrel, while
+“Doctor” Jeannette Eaton looked professionally grave, and Alice gasped,
+“My child, my child! Is she dead all over?” At last the doctor declared
+them out of danger, and, after recommending some dandelion wine to
+brace them up, ordered them rolled up in handkerchiefs and put in the
+sun to take a “sun-cure.”
+
+Meanwhile Wiggles’ boat with its scarlet occupant crossed the “tape”
+first, and again a prize mysteriously appeared from Aunt Elsie’s
+work-bag, in the form of a tiny doll’s piano, just big enough for
+a doll-house; for Wiggles was passionately fond of music, and could
+hardly wait until fall when she would start music-lessons.
+
+“O, dear me suz, there’s the twelve-o’clock bell. I’ll have to go home
+for luncheon,” bemoaned Marion. “Did you ever see a morning go so fast
+in your life? Haven’t we had the loveliest time?”
+
+“How are the patients, Dr. Eaton?” inquired Dick, nodding toward the
+two dolls, still taking their sun-bath.
+
+“Very, very poorly,” said Dr. Eaton, looking grave and shaking her
+topknot of curls. “They have a ‘temperment’ of one hundred and forty
+degrees.”
+
+They were indeed very warm from the broiling sun, and were tenderly
+carried up under the willow-tree and comfortably arranged on a bed of
+moss.
+
+“I greatly fear,” said the doctor, looking wise, “that we shall have to
+call in a nurse, as they will have chills soon, and water on the brain
+from their nearness to drowning.”
+
+“Do give them something fashionable,” urged Wiggles. “Any one can
+have chills. Let’s have something where there can be a card on the
+door; it looks so kind of exclusive,--yellow plague, or black peril, or
+something like that.”
+
+“Why, where’s your aunt?” asked Alice, noticing, for the first time,
+that Aunt Elsie had disappeared. “We must thank her and hurry home.”
+
+“She’s up in the woods,” said Billy, looking as if he wanted to laugh
+at something.
+
+So, clutching their treasures, all four girls followed the whooping
+boys up the bank, to the curve of the stream at the edge of the woods.
+And there, what do you suppose they saw?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THREE
+
+GAMES
+
+
+There, on the ground, surrounded by wild-azalea bushes, whose
+coral-pink blossoms filled the air with a delicious perfume, was spread
+a white cloth, and, unpacking things from a big hamper, were Mother and
+Grandma, and Aunt Elsie; while James, Grandpa Carr’s colored chauffeur,
+was grinning broadly over a big freezer full of ice-cream, and Cubby
+trotted around on her fat little legs and got in every one’s way.
+
+It was such a lovely surprise, although the boys had known all about
+it; and as Alice’s and Marion’s people had been asked by Mother, the
+two little girls could stay with clear consciences and enjoy the
+delicious picnic luncheon. There were pink-and-white ham sandwiches,
+and stacks of others with jelly, lettuce, and peanut-butter filling.
+Then came fruit salad from the thermos bottle, and, of course, olives,
+candies, and salted peanuts. And when all these goodies had vanished
+down hungry throats, some of Mandy’s chocolate cake appeared, with
+two pink candles on it, “Because,” Aunt Elsie explained, “it’s Boots’
+second birthday.” How they all laughed and petted Boots, who enjoyed
+the ham as much as any one, and washed his paws most daintily after
+each course. He blinked his big green eyes in astonishment at the
+flickering candles atop the cake, but ate his ice cream with much
+gusto, to show how much he appreciated this birthday celebration.
+
+“Oh, do let’s celebrate Boots’ birthday every year!” cried Wiggles,
+dancing around with a piece of cake in each hand. “It’s lots more fun
+than a real birthday party.”
+
+“We ought to play Puss-in-the-corner so he could join in,” suggested
+Alice, but Boots, deciding that luncheon was over, settled himself
+under the bushes for a cozy nap.
+
+“What let’s play?” asked Jeannette. “I’ve eaten and eaten until I don’t
+want to move.”
+
+“Here’s a new game I’ve found for you, children,” said Grandma,
+producing papers and pencils, which she passed around. “I’ll read you a
+list of questions, and each answer must be in two words. The first word
+must start with your first initial, and the second word with your last
+initial. Some of the answers turn out very funny, and I’m sure you will
+enjoy it.”
+
+Mother and Aunt Elsie decided to finish clearing away the remains
+of the picnic, so only the children played, while Grandma read the
+questions.
+
+They worked industriously, with many a stifled giggle, and when all
+were finished, the papers were passed to Grandma to read aloud.
+
+The first question had been, “How would you describe yourself?” Marion,
+whose initials were M. W., had written “Marvelously Wise.” Spelling
+was not counted, and it was most fortunate, as there were some odd
+blunders. “What is your chief sport?” brought the answer, “Mangling
+Wash,” over which there were many laughs.
+
+“You’ll make your fortune if you turn wash-lady nowadays,” said
+Billy. “You’d better start saving your pennies toward an electric
+washing-machine, if that is your chief aim in life.”
+
+The third question was, “What is your favorite food?” to which Marion
+had written “Maple Whip,” which Grandmother and Mother thought very
+appropriate.
+
+But she had a hard struggle with the last question, which asked what
+trade or profession she wished her future husband to follow. Finally,
+after much pencil-nibbling and thought, she put down, “Merely Workman.”
+The girls declared it great fun, and listened with interest as
+Grandmother read Dick’s paper next.
+
+For his description he had, “Real Good,” which caused them to shout, as
+Richard was always in mischief and out again. “Riding Goats” was his
+favorite amusement, and “Rich Gravy” his favorite food. The boys put
+their own future profession for the last question, and Dick decided to
+be a “Real Gentleman,” which ended his paper.
+
+“This is lots of fun, Grandma,” laughed Jeannette. “Why didn’t you tell
+us about it before?”
+
+“Because I only saw it myself last week, in a newspaper,” confessed
+Grandma. “I’ll read Alice’s now.”
+
+“‘A’ is such a pretty letter to have,” sighed Wiggles enviously. “Just
+think, both my initials are the same, and it made it awfully hard
+’cause I had so little choice.”
+
+“Well, don’t look so doleful about it, Miss Polly-Wog-Wiggles,”
+returned Billy. “Any one that has three such marvelous nicknames as
+Polly, Woggsie, and Wiggles ought not to complain. Oh, Aunt Elsie, will
+you ever forget the time we were shopping in Morristown, and that old
+gentleman complimented Wogs on her name?”
+
+“What was the joke?” inquired Marion with interest.
+
+“Why, one time Grandfather, Aunt Elsie, Wiggles, and I were doing some
+marketing in Morristown. Grandfather--he’s not really my grandfather,
+but I always call him that--was in a hurry to get home, and called to
+Wiggles, who was looking in a shop window, as all girls will,”--here
+Wiggles interrupted with a loud sniff of disdain,--“and said, ‘Get
+a wiggle on, Polly.’ There was an old gentleman passing by, and he
+stopped and beamed and said, ‘It certainly is a pleasure to hear an
+old-fashioned name like Polly, after the new-fangled names they call
+children nowadays. Always be proud of your name, little Miss Polly.’”
+
+“What did you say?” asked Alice, much amused.
+
+“I didn’t get a chance to say a single word,” replied Wiggles, “for I
+was so s’prised that I just stood stock-still until he was ’way down
+the street, and then I didn’t want to go rushing after a strange man
+and say, ‘My name isn’t Polly at all, just “Polliwog,” and Wiggles for
+short.’ Wouldn’t he have been ’stonished?”
+
+“I think he would,” laughed Mother, seating herself on the soft grass
+and pulling Cubby beside her. “You’re such a heedless little witch,
+that it would have been just about like you.”
+
+“How are the literary efforts coming along?” inquired Aunt Elsie, as,
+after sending James home with the empty hamper, she joined the laughing
+crowd.
+
+So Grandmother started once more, and they found out that Alice
+described herself as an “Ambitious Maiden,” and gave her favorite
+sport as “Any Mathematics,” which drew a giggle from Wiggles, as Alice
+disliked arithmetic more than anything else.
+
+“You thought ‘A’ was such an easy letter, Wiggles,” declared Alice,
+“but it was dreadfully hard.”
+
+One and all declared Alice’s favorite article of food, “Almond
+Macaroons,” to be the best of all, and Marion cried, “Wouldn’t they
+taste good with my ‘Maple Whip’?”
+
+“Don’t, for pity sake, talk about eating,” groaned Jeannette. “I ate
+three times more than I should have, and I don’t believe I could eat
+another thing.”
+
+“That’s because you were piggy,” jeered Dick, pulling one of her brown
+curls that had fallen from the knot atop her head.
+
+“Not half so piggy as you,” retorted Jeannette. “Who ate five slices
+of cake and three plates of cream, I’d like to know? And as for
+sandwiches, I couldn’t begin to count.”
+
+“Order, order!” cried Aunt Elsie, and they all quieted down to hear
+that Alice’s future husband would be “A Mason.”
+
+“Read Jeannette’s next,” implored Wiggles. “‘J’ is such a hard letter.”
+
+So, as Grandmother was tired, Mother started on the next slip of paper.
+
+Description, “Just Elegant,” wrote Jeannette in her round, clear hand.
+
+“Favorite sport, ‘Just Eating,’” broke in Dick, snickering. “Ha, ha,
+Jet, I got you that time.”
+
+“No, it’s Juggling Elephants,” replied Mother with a smile. “You’ll
+need a good deal of muscle for that sport, my dear.”
+
+Favorite food, “Juicy Egg-plant,” went on the writing, and Jeannette
+had settled on a “Jolly Eskimo” for her future partner.
+
+“You’ll have to live in a snow hut and eat whale-blubber and delicacies
+like that,” put in Billy. “What a happy future to look forward to. You
+know they woo you by seizing you by the hair of your head and dragging
+you away. You have good hair for an Eskimo bride. See, he’ll do like
+this--” and Billy grabbed the long curls and gave a blood-curdling
+exhibition of an Eskimo groom, until Jeannette shrieked that he was
+pulling her hair out by the roots, and Cubby’s lip began to quiver
+suspiciously.
+
+“You’re a bad, bad boy to hurt my Jet,” she wailed. “I don’t think your
+muvver has brought you up derry (very) nicely.”
+
+“He was just fooling,” explained Jet, wiping away the big tears
+streaming down the wee bear’s face.
+
+“I offer my humble apologies,” said Billy gravely. “There, Cub, does
+that suit you? I am afraid she’ll find the weather a trifle chilly up
+by the North Pole. In fact, little Miss Snippets, if you cried like
+that up in Eskimo land, all your tears would turn to ice and freeze
+your face.”
+
+Cubby felt her plump cheeks cautiously, as if fearing the freezing
+process might have already started.
+
+“Maybe Jet will live wite next door to Santy Claus,” she volunteered
+happily. “And--and maybe when I visit her she’ll let me eat lots and
+lots of Eskimo pie.”
+
+Billy let out a war-whoop. “I never thought of that, but maybe she
+will,” he told the ecstatic Cubby, who was beaming at the idea. “How
+about it, Jet?”
+
+“Well, she won’t have to complain about my eating too much raw fish and
+blubber when I visit her,” teased Dick.
+
+“How do you know you’ll be invited?” returned Jeannette calmly.
+
+“Hugh, you are next,” said Mother. “Hugh describes himself as ‘Heavily
+Whiskered,’ so I suppose that is the way we are to imagine him.”
+
+“Oh, Hugh,” cried Alice in horror. “Just think how terrible red
+whiskers would look.”
+
+“I am going to have them down to my waist when I grow up,” declared
+Hugh calmly, not at all upset by the shrieks of derision that greeted
+his announcement.
+
+“Lovely place for a bird’s nest,” put in Dick kindly. “One thing
+though, they’d be fine for polishing your shoes, and you’d never need
+to wear a necktie or a clean shirt, because no one could ever tell, if
+you were camouflaged with billy-goat whiskers.” “Oh, that reminds me,”
+laughed Grandma suddenly, “of one time when Wiggles was about Cubby’s
+age, and Grandfather and I, and her great-grandfather--my father,
+children--took her to Bronx Park to see the menagerie. She was charmed
+with everything, but stood longest before a little goat, and gazed and
+gazed at her. Finally she piped up in a shrill, loud voice, with a most
+angelic smile, as she pointed at the goat, ‘Oh, him has whiskers just
+like my dear, dear, great-grandpa.’”
+
+“What did you do with me?” demanded Wiggles in horror. “Wasn’t I a
+disgraceful child?”
+
+“Maybe your ‘muvver’ didn’t bring you up ‘derry’ well, either,” quoted
+Billy mischievously.
+
+“I didn’t do anything,” said Grandma, laughing at the recollection,
+“except laugh, for every one around just shouted. You talked so very
+plainly that every word could be understood, and your great-grandfather
+never got over telling about when he was compared to a goat. He thought
+it was very cunning.”
+
+“Well, I think it was just dreadful,” declared Wiggles solemnly. “I
+don’t see, Mother, where you ever got such a mortor-fying child.”
+
+“Well,” said Mother cheerfully, “I seem to stand the strain very well.
+Now, let’s see what Hugh has chosen as his favorite sport.”
+
+“Harpooning Whales” was to be the bewhiskered man’s hobby, and “Hot
+Waffles” his chief joy to eat.
+
+“And that’s true,” broke in Marion suddenly. “He ate seventeen one
+morning, just oozing with syrup.”
+
+“Yum-yum, weren’t they good,” murmured her brother with a far-away look
+in his eyes. “And I could have eaten more, only Grandma wouldn’t let
+me.”
+
+“I should think not,” said Aunt Elsie in dismay. “How did you ever do
+it?”
+
+“That’s nothing,” broke in Dick, not wishing to be left behind. “I ate
+twenty-two hot cakes one morning, didn’t I, Billy?”
+
+“Well it’s nothing to brag of,” said Wiggles crushingly. “I think boys
+are the queerest----”
+
+“Help, help,” cried Billy. “Some one head her off, quick! If Wiggles
+once gets on the subject of ‘What I think of boys,’ she’ll expound on
+their faults and shortcomings until night.”
+
+“And then not have nearly enough time to mention them all,” put in
+Wiggles, bound to have the last word.
+
+“To resume our reading,” said Mother, “‘Hard Work’ is to be Hugh’s
+profession.”
+
+This raised another shout, for Hugh was a bookworm, and greatly
+believed in putting off until to-morrow everything that could be done
+to-day.
+
+“Here, Woggsie,” said Aunt Elsie, “this much-besmudged paper looks like
+yours. I’ll read the next two, and give Mother’s throat a chance to
+rest.”
+
+“Description,” scrawled Wiggles, whose handwriting was not of the best,
+“Extremely Exquisite.”
+
+“You don’t mind patting yourself on the back, youngster, do you?”
+inquired Billy, pulling a crinkly curl.
+
+“I can’t help my initials,” answered Wiggles loftily. “’Twasn’t a bit
+of fun having both letters the same, I can tell you.”
+
+Wiggles’ chief hobby was “Entertaining Earls,” at which Billy gave
+a deep groan; and she was fond of eating “Enormous Eclairs,” which
+happened to be true. As for her husband-to-be, he was an “Electrical
+Engineer,” which she declared to be the only easy answer she had.
+
+“Now for William Gerard, better known as Billy,” said Aunt Elsie. “Here
+it is; Description, ‘Wise Guy.’”
+
+“Now who thinks a lot of himself?” jeered Wiggles, turning up her nose.
+
+“Look out, look out,” called Billy, as if in great alarm. “It turns up
+enough now, and if you tilt it up too far, it may never get back.”
+
+“Silly,” was Wiggles’ lofty reply.
+
+“Chief sport,” continued Aunt Elsie, “‘Western Gunning.’” For Billy was
+wild to hunt and shoot. “Favorite food,” Aunt Elsie resumed, “‘White
+Grapes.’ Future profession, ‘Writing Geographies.’”
+
+“You’ll be some literary gentleman,” jeered Hugh.
+
+“But haven’t they been fun?” beamed Wiggles. “I wish there were more to
+read.”
+
+“Here is one more question you may each answer aloud,” said Grandma.
+“I’ll give you five minutes to think of your favorite flower.”
+
+“Nothing starts with a ‘J,’” bemoaned Jeannette. “I’ll never think of
+one.”
+
+“Time’s up,” said Mother, looking at her wrist-watch. “Who’ll answer
+first?”
+
+“I will,” answered Dick. “My flower is ‘Red Geranium.’”
+
+“Very good,” approved Grandmother. “Now I can see that Marion is ready.”
+
+“‘Milk-Weed,’” replied Marion blushing. “It’s the only thing I can
+think of with my initials.”
+
+“‘Elephant’s Ears,’” called out Wiggles. “You know, those big flappy
+plants that grow in front of the post-office.”
+
+“‘Japanese Elderberry,’” ventured Jeannette, “and I’m not even sure
+that there is such a Japanese plant.”
+
+“It will do,” answered Grandma, smiling at her little granddaughter.
+“What shall we hear from you, Hugh?”
+
+“Hardy Wisteria,” said Hugh triumphantly. “My, that was hard. Hurry up,
+Bill; you ought to be ‘Sweet William.’”
+
+“Ladies first,” returned William with a gallant flourish toward Alice,
+whose brow was puckered with thought.
+
+“Prithee tell me, little one, what your favorite posy may be?”
+
+“‘Autumn Marigolds,’” answered Alice quickly. “Now tell yours.”
+
+“‘Winter Green,’ ma’am. How does that suit the Lady Alice?”
+
+“That isn’t a flower at all; it’s a flavor,” cried Marion.
+
+“You ask Grandmother,” cried William loftily, “if it isn’t a plant, and
+a flowering one, too. Dear, dear, such ignorance as you kidlets show.
+Ta-ta, youngsters, we _men_ are going fishing.”
+
+“Men, indeed,” sniffed Wiggles, much amused. “Why, you’re nothing but
+just little boys.”
+
+After the boys had gone, the grown-ups collected embroidery-bags and
+other belongings, and, with Boots and Cubby leading, the procession
+returned once more to the willow-tree and Fleur-de-Lys Point.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOUR
+
+CUBBY’S ADVENTURE
+
+
+It looked as if the fairies had been at work, for there under the
+spreading willow-tree were five tiny tents, each big enough to hold a
+family of dolls with comfort.
+
+With cries of delight, all four friends and Cubby danced round and
+round, exclaiming: “Where did you get them? Aren’t they cunning?”
+
+While the children were enthusing, Grandma, Mother, and Aunt Elsie
+settled themselves comfortably with their embroidery, and smiled at the
+children’s raptures.
+
+“Do you like them?” asked Aunt Elsie.
+
+“Indeed we do. We never saw dolls’ tents before,” chorused the girls.
+
+“I know you’re ’mused about something by the ’spression around your
+mouth, Aunt Elsie. Please be a dear good auntie, and stop teasing us
+and tell us where you got them?” implored Wiggles, dancing up and down
+in her excitement.
+
+“Yes, pretty please,” begged Jeannette. “You have a wicked twinkle in
+your eyes.”
+
+“Oh, oh, let me see it!” demanded Cubby, approaching on a run, and
+peering at her aunt’s eyes with interest. “Does it hurt you, Aunt
+Elsie?”
+
+“Does what hurt?” asked Aunt Elsie, catching up the wee bear to give
+her a hug and a kiss.
+
+“The--the thing that Jet said was in your eye. You know, the
+‘squinkle,’” explained Cubby, hunting through her mind for the word and
+bringing it out triumphantly.
+
+“Oh, oh, Mother, she thinks it’s something like having a cinder in the
+eye,” shrieked Wiggles, much amused.
+
+Cubby was much offended by the mirth her remark caused. She hated to
+be laughed at by the older girls. “It’s not polite to laugh,” she told
+them with dignity, her very curls bristling with indignation. “You just
+wait till you’re a itty bit of a gurrl and I’m a big grown-up lady,
+and then see how you feel when I laugh at your ‘steaks.’”
+
+“So you shall,” replied Wiggles good-naturedly. “You shall look at me
+like this,” and she gave a condescending glance down toward her feet.
+“And you may laugh at my ‘steaks’ as much as you want,--and my chops,
+too,” she finished with a giggle.
+
+“And what will you do?” asked Cubby breathlessly, all dignity gone
+before this absorbing by-play.
+
+“Oh, I’ll shrink, and shrink, beneath your withering stare, until I
+shrivel up like a dried leaf, and blow away. Now Auntie, do tell us
+where you got the tents.”
+
+“Well, those ‘disgustable’ boys made the framework,” replied Aunt Elsie
+demurely, “and Mother and I made the cotton squares to cover them. We
+thought your dolls might enjoy tenting for a change.”
+
+“I’ll never call those boys ‘disgustable’ again,” puffed Wiggles,
+rushing back and forth like a busy little beaver, and carrying dolls’
+furniture and dishes with which to arrange the tents. “They’re just
+perfect pets,” she finished.
+
+It was to be doubted as to whether or not the boys would have enjoyed
+being called “pets.” Perhaps it was just as well that they did not hear.
+
+“It’s the loveliest picnic that I ever saw,” declared Alice positively,
+arranging a tiny bed with covers and pillows. “Let’s pretend that this
+is a girls’ camp on a big lake.”
+
+The idea was seized with enthusiasm, and Jeannette rushed to get the
+“invalids,” who were still resting on their mossy beds.
+
+“They are here for their health,” she announced importantly, “as their
+doctor told them they needed to go to a health resort.”
+
+“What shall we name the camp?” demanded Marion, arranging a table,
+out on the mossy “lawn,” with tiny dishes and cups. “They must eat
+out-of-doors, for that’s the way they do at Maine camps.”
+
+Marion had spent part of one summer in the Maine woods, and so the
+children considered her an authority on camping.
+
+“Pine Grove,” suggested Jeannette. “Oh, I forgot there aren’t any pines
+near by.”
+
+“Pebbly Brook Camp,” suggested Wiggles, which was declared just the
+thing.
+
+“It seems to me,” said Mother, who had been watching the camp with much
+interest, “that you need some hammocks out under your trees. Don’t your
+dolls enjoy swinging?”
+
+“Oh,” said Marion earnestly, “we had lots and lots of hammocks when we
+were at camp in Maine, but I don’t see how we could fix any here.”
+
+“How would these do?” asked Mother, holding up the cunningest little
+cocoon-shaped hammocks that she had been busy making from scraps of
+muslin and string. “Cubby, you rascal, what have you done with my
+scissors and thread? Somebody rescue them. Quick, catch her!”
+
+The advice came too late. Splash, splash, went the scissors into the
+brook, and Wiggles rescued them with difficulty by going out on the
+stepping-stones and teetering there while she fished for them. Of
+course she fell in. If there was an inch of water, Wiggles always
+landed in it. So off had to come the pink gingham dress and be hung on
+the bushes to dry, while, wrapped in an old apron which, fortunately,
+Grandma had brought to protect her dress while dishing out ice-cream,
+Wiggles serenely went back to her play, unmindful of the funny
+spectacle she made, wound about in a lavender percale apron, fastened
+with safety-pins.
+
+The hammocks were hung before fleur-de-lys plants, and the campers
+greatly enjoyed using them. Ting-a-ling-a-ling rang Alice, using the
+bell on Boots’ collar for a dinner-bell, and causing him to open one
+indignant eye at being so rudely disturbed. “Come to the camp dinner.”
+So all the campers in swimming, and those boating or comfortably
+resting in hammocks, hurried out to the dinner-table, and partook of
+violet soup, sweet-grass salad, chocolate,--made by mixing mud and
+water,--and many other such delicacies. Then trays were made from big
+leaves and carried to the two invalids, who were now allowed to recline
+in the hammocks under the “trees.”
+
+“Gracious,” said Alice, looking at her prize clock that was wagging
+its pendulum merrily, “it’s almost time for them to go fishing or the
+fish won’t bite.” So, making rods from pieces of twig, to which were
+fastened bits of thread from Mother’s embroidery bag, the doll-families
+hastened to the river to catch a fish for dinner.
+
+“My Clementine,” said Jeannette, naming the invalid doll, “feels that a
+bit of fresh salmon with egg sauce would tempt her appetite for dinner.”
+
+“So does Muriel,” declared Alice, tenderly tucking the poor child under
+a heavy quilt. “She feels very low, and I think salmon is the only
+thing that will save her. She’s getting worse and worse by the minute.”
+
+“Put hot-water bags at her head, and ice-bags at her feet,” ordered Dr.
+Jeannette Eaton hastily; “and I’ll catch a salmon and she may eat it
+all for dinner.”
+
+“Is your poor itty dolly derry derry sick?” asked Cubby, making a
+grieved lip and unwinding yards of Mother’s white cotton in her
+earnestness.
+
+“She’ll be better soon,” said Wiggles cheerfully. “She has the
+‘epizoodic’ and needs a specialist’s care. Don’t you want to play with
+us, and with your cunning little tent?”
+
+“No,” replied Evelyn positively. “I wants to pick some booful flowers
+up dere,” pointing with a dimpled finger at the vivid azalea bushes at
+the edge of the woods where they had eaten their luncheon.
+
+“All right, Baby,” said Mother; “you pick me a big bunch of flowers,
+only don’t go any farther away than where we had our lunch.”
+
+So Cubby scurried off in delight, and the other children dropped dolls
+and fishing-lines when told by Aunt Elsie to choose a turtle apiece
+from the stream for a turtle race.
+
+“What’s a turtle race?” demanded the children in a breath, pelting down
+the bank in search of the turtles that inhabited the crystal-clear
+brook.
+
+“I just know it will be fun,” said Alice happily, bearing her dripping
+captive toward Aunt Elsie. “What shall I do with this, now that I have
+it?”
+
+“Put it on the ‘race-track,’” replied Aunt Elsie, laughing at the
+curiosity shown in each eager face, as she pointed to a space on the
+ground marked with two chalk-lines.
+
+“Are these race-horses?” inquired Jeannette, much diverted at this
+novel idea. “Mine’s a blue-ribbon racer, named ‘Rubber,’ and he’s a
+long-distance champion.”
+
+“Mine is ‘petty-greed,’” announced Wiggles, who hadn’t the slightest
+idea what she was talking about. “His name is ‘Elastic,’ and he’s won
+fourteen gold cups, all hand-engraved.”
+
+“My, he is some racer,” laughed Grandma. “What is the name of your
+race-turtle, Marion?”
+
+Marion placed her pet gingerly on the ground. “Let me see,” she said
+undecidedly. “His name is ‘Marmaduke,’ and his picture appears in all
+the best papers and magazines. He’s particularly noted for his speed,
+and has been nicknamed ‘Lightning.’”
+
+“He looks it,” giggled Alice. “My turtle’s name is ‘Whiz.’ Note his
+jaunty air and his speaking countenance. He’s a high jumper, and is
+confident of victory in this race.”
+
+“On the line,” said Aunt Elsie, “ready, set,--go!”
+
+It was the funniest race of all. Wiggle’s turtle absolutely refused
+to move at all, and Alice’s racer strayed far from the track. So Aunt
+Elsie declared that Marion’s “Marmaduke” was the winner of the first
+prize, with “Rubber” a close second. And after the “race-horses” had
+been returned to the stream, two more interesting tissue-paper packages
+appeared, and were unwrapped with many “ohs” and “ahs” of delight.
+
+Jeannette received a carpet-sweeper not much bigger than her little
+finger, while Marion beamed with pleasure at beholding a tiny
+doll-carriage, so small that it sat on the palm of her hand, and held
+with comfort the “littlest camper.”
+
+“Isn’t it just too scrumptious to think each one of us won a prize?”
+smiled Wiggles. “Now we can fix up our doll-houses, and all the dolls
+may take music-lessons on my little piano.”
+
+Cubby had appeared several times among the azalea bushes with her
+chubby hands full of blossoms, and had brought down a few for Grandma
+before returning for a “dreat big bunch.” Being of a venturesome
+disposition, she started on an exploring trip by herself, dragging
+after her Auntie’s scarlet “payasol,” as she called Aunt Elsie’s
+sunshade, for which she cherished a deep affection.
+
+There were so many things to look at as she trudged along. It was so
+exciting to chase the yellow butterflies, and dart after the sleek gray
+squirrels that kept chattering at her from the tree-tops.
+
+“’Spect those ‘quirls’ are glad to see me,” she murmured to herself as
+she wandered farther and farther away on her quick little feet into
+the meadows on the other side of the grove, where she had a faint
+recollection of finding some wild strawberries one day when walking
+with her daddy.
+
+Naughty little Cubby. Well enough she knew that Mother and the rest
+believed her safely gathering wild blossoms; but she said to herself,
+“I wants to pick some ‘trawberries’ for my dear ‘Mayma’ (Grandma).”
+Over the shallow brook and through the pasture-bars she crept, pulling
+Auntie’s sunshade along behind her.
+
+“Sun’s hot,” said she aloud, mopping off her flushed face with the hem
+of her frock. “Dess I’ll put the booful payasol over me.”
+
+Strange to relate, her strong little fingers actually snapped it into
+place, and much pleased with herself, and nearly hidden by its scarlet
+folds, she trotted on. Finding a few strawberries, she decided they
+were so good that she would eat them herself, wiping the red stains
+on her clean white frock, and adding a few smears to her rosy face.
+“Muvver’ll be s’prised,” she tried to soothe her uneasy conscience,
+“when she sees my ‘trawberries.’” She fully expected to pick many more
+to take back with her, but they proved so tempting that she quickly
+popped each one into her own eager mouth as soon as plucked.
+
+Now Farmer Brown owned the meadow where she had wandered, and in it, as
+grown-ups could well see, by the big signs fastened to the trees, was a
+big savage bull.
+
+Little cared Cubby for boards with “Beware of the Bull” on them. She
+was too small to read, anyway, and so she puffed along under the big
+parasol, getting nearer and nearer the vicious animal.
+
+“Just like a lady, I is,” she said to herself, tossing her curls with
+glee. “Wish somebody could see me with this booful big payasol over
+me. Guess Billy wouldn’t say then, ‘Look at itty Miss Snippets under
+my feets.’ No indeedy. He’d think, ‘My, what a dreat big gurrl is
+a-coming along; must be Jet.’” “Jet” was the nearest that Cubby could
+get to “Jeannette.” “Then my Pampa and Mayma (Grandpa and Grandma)
+wouldn’t say, ‘If here isn’t babykins.’”--For it was a sad blow to the
+little one to be so much younger than her greatly admired sisters, and
+she always wanted to tag along with them, and do everything they did,
+regardless of the difference in age.
+
+But no one was in sight to admire the vain baby, until under a gnarled
+apple-tree Cubby spied the bull.
+
+“There,” said she with pleasure, “is a nice bossy cow. Guess I’ll show
+bossy my payasol.”
+
+Nearer and nearer she crept, singing “Hey! diddle diddle, the cat and
+the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon,” and wondering in her baby
+mind if this could be the very cow that jumped.
+
+“See my booful red payasol, bossy,” she murmured sweetly, poking the
+sunshade under the bull’s nose.
+
+It was lucky for wee Evelyn that she sang, for the clear sweet voice
+attracted the attention of a young man, who, fishing-rod in hand, was
+just passing the pasture-bars. What he heard was Cubby saying, “Bossy,
+pretty bossy, just look at my booful red payasol,” and then he saw
+the golden-haired baby wave a brilliant scarlet sunshade before the
+infuriated bull.
+
+How Robert Burnett ever leaped the pasture-bars and seized the
+indignant child, he does not remember. Fortunately she dropped the
+parasol and it flew in the bull’s face, or else I guess the wee Cubby
+bear would have been gored to death.
+
+Back under the willow-tree the turtle-race had proved so absorbing that
+Cubby’s continued absence had not been noticed, until several calls had
+failed to bring the usual response. At first they all thought that
+she was mischievously playing hide-and-seek, but when no baby could be
+found, a search began in earnest, and the entire picnic-party arrived
+at the pasture-bars in time to see the rescue.
+
+It was a white and trembling young man that placed an angry youngster
+in Mother’s arms, for all Cubby would say was, “My booful payasol, all
+lost!”
+
+“Oh, my baby, my baby!” cried Mother and Grandma in a breath, while
+Aunt Elsie cried as she looked in the field and saw the wreck of what
+had once been a parasol, and thought of what might have happened to the
+wee bear.
+
+Of course they could not even begin to thank Mr. Burnett, and he was
+cordially invited to dinner that evening, where Daddy and all the
+others tried to tell him a little of their appreciation, and thank him
+over and over for their darling’s life.
+
+Cubby was the calmest of them all, but absolutely refused to make
+friends with her rescuer, associating him in her mind with the loss of
+her beloved sunshade, and the scolding she had received for running
+away.
+
+“Hasn’t it been the greatest day?” said Wiggles, as she consumed
+enormous quantities of bread and butter. “First, we had such a lovely
+time, and then we had such a scary time. Why, it was like a thrilling
+movie, where the hero rescues somebody.”
+
+They all shouted at Wiggles’ description, although Mr. Burnett blushed.
+
+“You do me too much honor, Miss Wiggles,” he said gravely. “Never in my
+wildest dreams have I imagined being compared to a moving-picture hero.”
+
+“Well,” said Polly Wiggles honestly, “you’re so tall, you do look
+something like one. Only it ought to have been Aunt Elsie you rescued
+instead of Cubby, ’cause she’s a young lady, and then you could have
+married her and I would have been flower-girl at the wedding, just like
+they do in the movies,” she finished in one breath.
+
+“And I don’t see,” she told Jet indignantly, as they were busy
+undressing for bed a few minutes later, “why they rushed us off to bed
+in such a hurry. Do you?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIVE
+
+LIMERICKS
+
+
+Four little maids were walking home from school. At least, three were
+walking sedately, while Elizabeth chased after first one thing and then
+another, skipping back to her companions every few minutes to join in
+the conversation.
+
+“Oh, it’s perfectly dreadful,” cried Alice, her face all puckered up in
+a snarl, and her usually sunny blue eyes stormy, “to make every single
+child in school from third grade up, write a verse; we’re too little; I
+simply _can’t_.”
+
+“Why, Alice, it’s lots of fun,” said Wiggles earnestly. “I often do it
+just to ’muse myself. Just rhyme it up in your head, and then write it
+down. We have two weeks to write it in, and Miss Mason said it only had
+to be four lines, although it could be as much longer as we wished.”
+
+“Two _years_ would be too short for me, and four lines just four lines
+too long,” laughed Marion. “How you can say it’s easy, I don’t see. My
+goodness, girls, it’s dreadfully hot. Let’s sit down here on the grass
+and cool off, before we go any farther. I’m sizzling.”
+
+Down dropped all four girls, under the shade of a big maple-tree.
+
+“Let’s hear one of your poems, Wiggles,” asked Alice. “Maybe it will
+help us along. I don’t even know how to start one.”
+
+“Well, wait a minute till I think,” said Polly Wiggles. Thinking with
+Elizabeth never meant sitting still, so, to “clear her brain,” as she
+explained it, she spun round and round on one toe.
+
+“Do please stop,” implored Jet. “You make me dizzy to watch you. How
+can you be so lively on this hot day? Seems as if I’d melt.”
+
+“I’ve remembered it now, anyway,” cried the budding authoress. “It’s
+called ‘At the Zoo,’ and of course it isn’t a really truly poem like
+grown-ups make; it’s just a verse!” With a loud “Ahem,” to clear her
+throat, she began:
+
+  “One day I went a-walking,
+  A-walking in the zoo,
+  And closely by my side I took
+  My little children two.
+
+  The day was bright and sunny,
+  And everything was fair;
+  We saw the bears, the snakes, and birds.
+  Also the lion’s lair.
+
+  We heard a dreadful roaring,
+  And o’er the ground there came
+  A great big yellow lion,
+  Shaking his yellow mane.
+
+  My heart did _not_ stop beating,
+  As the lion onward flew,
+  For it was our circus lion,
+  And I was _their_ kangaroo.”
+
+All this was spoken without pause or punctuation, and so rapidly that
+the authoress was decidedly out of breath when she finished.
+
+“There,” she exclaimed with an air of relief, “I didn’t forget any of
+it, and I was so afraid I would.”
+
+“Wiggles, how do you do it?” inquired practical Marion in despair.
+“That was perfectly beautiful. When you grow up are you going to be an
+authoress?”
+
+“Either that, or an editor. I haven’t decided which,” was the modest
+reply. “I never have had all the books I wanted to read, and just think
+what fun an editor must have, with nothing to do all day long but sit
+with his feet on top of a mahogany desk and read, and read, and smoke
+big black cigars.”
+
+“Will you smoke cigars?” asked Jeannette, much shocked. “I don’t think
+you can be an editor, anyway, Wogs, for I’m ’most sure it’s something
+only men can be, like ministers and,--and garbage-men,” she finished
+wildly, groping about in her mind for a suitable comparison.
+
+“Well,” retorted her sister undaunted, “then I’m going to ’stablish a
+‘presidents.’”
+
+“A what?”
+
+“A ‘presidents.’ That’s what daddy said the other night, and when I
+asked him what it meant, he said ‘to start a new custom.’”
+
+“I remember, but it didn’t sound just like that to me,” returned
+Jeannette, wrinkling her brow in thought.
+
+“For pity’s sake,” interrupted Marion, who had mentally been going over
+the remarkable “poem” again, “how could you tell what a kangaroo felt
+like? I couldn’t.”
+
+“Pooh, just as easy,” answered Wiggles much surprised. “Just imagine!
+Like we pretend, when we dress up in Mother’s clothes, that we’re
+grown-up young ladies. The teacher always says, ‘Put yourself in the
+place of the one you’re writing about,’ so I did, and felt just as
+‘kangarooey’ as could be. I made that up in bed last night. I often do.”
+
+It was not to be wondered at that Wiggles had a fondness for rhyme,
+without, as Mother laughingly remarked, “rhyme or reason.” Aunt
+Elsie was always writing limericks about incidents or places, and
+Mother was almost as bad; while even Daddy had been known to chant
+extemporaneously, after a particularly good dinner:
+
+  “I am replete,
+  Filled to my feet,
+  With things I like the best to eat.”
+
+So when the news of the poems was broken to the family a short time
+later, it did not horrify them as it might have done. Instead, Grandma
+said comfortably: “Why not have a limerick contest now? It will be lots
+of fun, and practice for you children, too. Here come Dick and Billy. I
+suppose they’re in it, too, so somebody get paper and pencils.”
+
+Dick was in the last half of the fifth year, and Billy in the sixth.
+Billy had been out of school the year before with a severe attack of
+diphtheria. They both shared the family weakness for rhyme, and there
+is still told a story of Dick’s baby days. When he was about four years
+old, his mother took him marketing one morning, and the clerk who
+waited upon them was named Dean. That night at dinner, Dick piped up,
+“Mother, I made a piece of ‘poultry’ to-day ’bout that man.” Upon much
+urging, he recited his ‘poultry,’ which was:
+
+  “Mr. Dean,
+  Ate a bean.”
+
+Elizabeth and Jeannette rushed indoors for writing materials, and were
+back by the time all were seated on the comfortable porch.
+
+It was funny to see the different ways they went about it. Mother,
+Grandma, and Aunt Elsie comfortably sat in their wicker porch-chairs,
+waiting for an inspiration; but Wiggles curled up on the steps and
+chewed hard at her pencil until genius apparently burned, and she
+scribbled away industriously.
+
+Dick and Billy withdrew with many snorts and giggles to a corner, where
+they mysteriously doubled up with laughter every few minutes, consuming
+Jeannette with curiosity.
+
+Poor Alice and Marion wriggled uncomfortably, for though they knew what
+limericks were, “it was much easier,” as Marion expressed it, “to laugh
+at somebody else’s than write your own.”
+
+“I just know those awful boys are up to some mischief,” cried
+Jeannette, glancing over at the corner where the lads were apparently
+diligent little scribes.
+
+“Thank goodness, I am through,” sighed Alice, “but I am ashamed to read
+it.”
+
+“Well, my dear,” said Grandmother Carr encouragingly, “we can’t all do
+the same things well, most fortunately, or this would be a queer old
+world. Elizabeth and Jeannette both have the rhyming habit, but neither
+is as clever with her fingers as you and Marion, and could not begin to
+make such a pretty scarf as Marion knitted for her doll, or the tiny
+sweater you finished.”
+
+So the little girls quite cheered up, and drew their chairs up in a big
+circle with the others. Then, beginning with Grandma as oldest, each
+one read aloud the limerick she had made.
+
+  “There are four little girls living near,
+  Who’ve been playmates for many a year,
+  They’re always together,
+  No matter what weather,
+  And to us they are all very dear,”
+
+read Grandma, smiling at the four little friends, who looked much
+pleased.
+
+“Oh, Mrs. Carr, won’t you please write that out for us to put in our
+scrap-books?” asked Marion, while Wiggles rushed over to give her
+beloved grandmother a grizzly-bear hug. For all the girls kept big
+scrap-books, which they called “memory books,” and in which they pasted
+their valentines, and souvenirs from parties and places where they had
+been.
+
+“Why not put all the limericks in?” suggested Mother. “I’m sure they’ll
+be fun to look at and read next winter when we’re back in the city.”
+
+The girls all thought that would be a lovely plan, so, the question
+being settled satisfactorily, Mother read aloud from her slip of paper:
+
+  “A boy I know well who’s named Billy,
+  Ate ‘hot dogs’ one morning, until he
+  Felt dreadfully then,
+  And said, ‘Never again;
+  I think I was oh, very silly.’”
+
+How the little girls laughed, and so did Bill, although he turned
+rather red at the recollection.
+
+It seems that a much older boy dared Bill to eat a dozen and a half
+“hot dogs,” and volunteered to pay for them if all were consumed.
+Nothing loath, and not stopping to think of the after-consequences,
+Bill forced them down, every one. The first six were fine, the next six
+an effort, and to eat the remaining “dogs” proved to be hard work.
+
+However, Bill was triumphant. “I won the dare,” said he. But the other
+boy “reneged,” as Bill put it, and refused to pay, so it was a sick and
+sorrowful William that told the tale to Dad.
+
+And then, to make bad matters worse, Billy’s father said that he must
+earn the money himself to pay for them, and it would teach him to be
+more careful in the future. Poor Billy. Not only did the debt hang over
+his head, but his overworked stomach rebelled, and it was several days
+before he could get to work cutting grass, raking lawns, and running
+errands until the necessary amount had been made. But ever since he had
+been more careful about looking before he leaped.
+
+A mischievous smile crinkled up Aunt Elsie’s blue eyes, as she began:
+
+  “If there’s water, she’ll surely fall in,
+  But she always comes up with a grin;
+  Then little Miss Wiggle,
+  Will say with a giggle,
+  ‘Why can’t I be proper and prim?’”
+
+Polly Wiggles laughed so much at this true description of her
+propensities for mishaps, that she doubled up on the railing where she
+had been perched, and fell head over heels, being rescued by Dick, who
+had enough presence of mind to grab fast to her slippers and hang on
+until she could be pulled up.
+
+Of course she lost her hair ribbon and tore a big hole in her dotted
+swiss dress, but those were everyday mishaps.
+
+As soon as the confusion had died down, Jeannette read aloud:
+
+  “Who always is playing a trick?
+  Who always says, ‘Gimme a lick?’
+  Who loves to pull curls,
+  When he sees little girls?
+  Of course it’s our cousin,--it’s Dick.”
+
+How everybody laughed, Dick as much as any one, for the ‘Gimme a lick’
+sounded so like his favorite expression when candy was anywhere
+around, or cake-making was going on.
+
+“Mine’s awful,” said Marion hopelessly. “The lines seem to sound so
+snarly, but it just popped into my head.”
+
+  “A girl named Jeannette, from the city,
+  Brought a pussy cat, furry and pretty,
+  He wears boots on his paws,
+  To conceal his sharp claws;
+  Puss-in-Boots is the name of this kitty.”
+
+“Boots wishes me to say,” cried Aunt Elsie, catching up the furry pet,
+“that he feels greatly honored by having a real poem written about him.”
+
+“I think it extremely clever,” approved Mother, “and the lines don’t
+sound snarly at all. It’s hard to do, too, until you practise a few
+times.”
+
+“Don’t lose that, Marion. I want it for my scrap-book,” put in
+Jeannette. “I’ll paste a big snapshot of Boots right above it.”
+
+“Oh,” giggled Wiggles; “if that were lost, it would truly be a
+‘cat-astrophe.’”
+
+“Cool her fevered brow,” groaned Billy. “Too much knowledge has gone to
+her head.”
+
+“Ssh,” said Wiggles; “it’s Alice’s turn.” The boys, for some mysterious
+reason, had insisted on reading their limericks last.
+
+“Here comes Evelyn, just in time,” laughed Alice, as the wee bear
+appeared, fresh from Nurse Hannah’s hands, and ran with a crow of
+delight to sit on Grandma’s lap. “I wrote about Cubby,” went on Alice,
+picking up her much-crossed and re-crossed slip of paper.
+
+So Cubby listened intently as Alice read:
+
+  “The wee bear, although very small,
+  Hopes soon to grow up big and tall,
+  But plump, round, and chubby,
+  We best like our Cubby,
+  Who’s petted by one and by all.”
+
+“That’s true,” laughed Grandma, hugging the small piece of mischief.
+“It’s a wonder she isn’t entirely spoiled.”
+
+“Now, Woggsie, it’s up to you,” called the boys. So with a grin that
+brought big dimples into her cheeks, Wiggles declaimed:
+
+  “Who said, ‘Picnics for girls are no fun?’
+  Saying, ‘Oh, no, indeed, we won’t come;’
+  Until hearing of ‘eats,’
+  Cake and candy and sweets,
+  You could not keep them off with a gun.”
+
+“No fair! no fair! Who has been telling tales?” cried Dick, looking
+from one laughing face to another.
+
+“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Cubby, who hadn’t the slightest idea what the
+joke was about. The four girls shook at the expression on the boys’
+faces, for they had all heard the joke about the picnic. The lads had
+scoffed at it as “girl stuff” until they heard of the sandwiches and
+cakes that Grandmother and Mother were preparing. Then they hastened
+to Aunt Elsie and suggested making the canoes, and hanging around to
+“help,” to which she gave her permission with a quiet smile, but with a
+roguish twinkle in her eye.
+
+“Just you wait, Miss Polly-Wog-Wiggles,” promised Dick as he tweaked
+her curly mop. And with a grimace he commenced in a high falsetto
+voice:
+
+  “Who sticks her nose up with a stare,
+  And flounces by with such an air,
+  Because for boys she does not care?
+    WIGGLES.”
+
+Here Billy joined in:
+
+  “Who says, ‘They make the loudest noise,
+  And muss up things and break our toys?
+  Oh, aren’t we glad that we’re not boys!’
+    JET.
+
+  “Who says, ‘We’ve nicer times, it’s true,
+  When there’s just girls. I think, don’t you,
+  That boys should live out in a zoo?’
+    ALICE.
+
+  “Who says, ‘Why will they call me “Red,”
+  Or “Carrots,” when the teacher said,
+  That I had “Tissue” hair, instead?’
+    MARION.”
+
+Here Dick resumed the tale, while the appreciative audience wiped away
+tears of mirth.
+
+  “What girl was it who ran away,
+  With Auntie’s parasol so gay,
+  And tried to get a bull to play?
+    CUBBY.
+
+  “Who packed up sandwiches galore,
+  And through the woods the hamper bore?
+  Why, Grandma, Mother, and one more,
+    AUNT ELSIE.”
+
+“Only,” as Dick explained in an aside, “it was really James who carried
+the hamper, but that was poetic license.”
+
+Then together, in sepulchral tones, both boys burst out:
+
+  “Who nobly toiled and worked away,
+  Acquiring calloused hands that day,
+  That you have tents and boats for play?
+    THOSE DISGUSTABLE BOYS.”
+
+“Oh, it was splendid,” cried the girls, clapping their hands, when the
+boys, with a deep bow, had taken their seats, and Grandma, Mother, and
+Aunt Elsie were wiping their flushed and laughing faces. “But how did
+you know we said those things?”
+
+“Why, Dick was on the other side of the stream, behind the bushes, and
+you were so busy gabbling away, and talked so loudly, that he heard it
+all. He ran on ahead, and beat you to the Point by about five minutes.”
+
+“Now will you be good?” demanded Billy with a ferocious frown at Jet,
+as he made a grab for her long curls, and nearly fell off the front
+steps as she danced tantalizingly out of his reach.
+
+“‘Listeners never hear good of themselves,’” quoted Wiggles provokingly
+as she circled warily around Billy, seeking a chance to grab his
+fountain-pen and run.
+
+“No, you don’t, young lady,” said Dick, creeping up from the back and
+pinioning her hands behind her back. “Little girls should never----”
+
+“Never what?” asked Wiggles coolly, freeing herself like a particularly
+agile eel, and taking Dick’s necktie with her in the bargain.
+
+“Truce, truce,” cried Marion, waving her handkerchief as a white flag.
+“It’s getting late and I have to go home, but it was lots of fun.”
+
+“Let’s make up limericks some time again,” suggested Alice
+enthusiastically, and she and Marion said good-by until the next day.
+They ran down the lilac-bordered path, stopping at the gate to wave,
+while the boys followed after them, chanting at the top of their voices:
+
+  “Maidens dear, we hate to leave you,
+  Hate to say a fond farewell,
+  But we’re honest,--can’t deceive you,
+  We can hear our dinner-bell.
+
+  Hear it calling, ‘Dick, you sinner,
+  Billy, too, come home for tea.’
+  There’s a lemon pie for dinner,
+  And ‘I hear it calling me.’”
+
+“Didn’t we have fun?” said Wiggles, settling comfortably in the
+porch-hammock, when Daddy’s voice called from the house, “Better
+scurry, kidlets, and wash your hands unless you want to be late; and,
+though no lemon pie is ‘calling us,’ there are fried chicken and hot
+waffles for dinner.”
+
+So the little girls scurried.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIX
+
+TEA AT MISS HELEN’S
+
+
+Polly Wiggles and Jeannette looked with pleasure at the two pretty
+dresses that were spread on the bed in the Forget-me-not room.
+
+“Are we to wear our new dresses this afternoon, Mother?” inquired
+Jeannette; for the two little girls had been invited by their mother’s
+old friend, Miss Helen, to take afternoon tea at her attractive white
+cottage about three quarters of a mile from The Lilacs. Miss Helen Cole
+was principal of the school at Meadowbrook, and was always planning
+delightful surprises for the children, so they both were agog with
+impatience to find out what the “something” was that Miss Helen had
+whispered she wanted to talk over with them.
+
+“I thought it would be a good time to wear them,” answered Mother,
+deftly slipping the rose-pink organdie over Wiggles’ curly head as she
+spoke. “Stand still, child, so I can button you up.”
+
+Jeannette’s daffodil-yellow organdie was fastened next, and big
+pink-and-yellow butterfly bows were tied to the curly tresses. Then
+Mother kissed them good-by with a few final words of caution. “_Don’t_
+forget to thank Miss Helen for your pleasant afternoon, and _do_ be
+careful of your frocks.”
+
+The sisters fluttered downstairs with a grown-up air of importance
+which was increased by Cubby’s wail of “Me wants to go, too.”
+
+“You’re too little,” explained Jeannette kindly, stooping to kiss the
+rosy face; “and, besides, you are going out with Mother and Grandma in
+the car.”
+
+“Little bits of wee bears don’t go to afternoon teas,” added Wiggles,
+wiping away the big tears that slid down Evelyn’s cheeks. “Only big
+girls and young ladies go to teas, but we’ll tell you all about it when
+we come home.”
+
+“I are a big, big gurrl,” gulped Cubby, heartbroken at being left
+behind by her adored sisters.
+
+“Who wants tea, anyway?” inquired Aunt Elsie, coming out of the
+music-room to find out what all the sobbing was about. “Cubby and I
+are going to have something much better than old tea,” she told them.
+“We’re going to have _ice-cream_ while we’re out this afternoon.”
+
+Cubby’s woe-begone face brightened as if by magic, while Aunt Elsie
+hastily waved the girls out of the front door.
+
+“Skip along before she starts crying again,” she advised them hastily,
+and hurried back to talk over with the excited wee bear the fascinating
+possibility of having “choglit” ice-cream, or “striped pink and white.”
+
+“I’m certainly going to be careful to-day,” Wiggles confided earnestly
+to Jeannette as they skipped along the pretty woodland path that led
+them to Miss Helen’s. “Mother’s taken so much trouble to make these
+dresses for us, that I’m going to be very careful about sitting on
+anything, or falling into anything, or tearing myself on anything, see
+if I don’t.”
+
+“You do have the worst luck,” Jeannette acknowledged, “like that time
+we went with Mother to see ‘Cinderella’ at the movies, and you put your
+good hat on the seat next to us----”
+
+“And a fat woman came and sat plump on it,” giggled Wiggles; “and I was
+so interested in the picture that I never noticed until after it was
+over, and then it was as flat as a pancake. Well, you just see this
+afternoon. I’m going to go home just as clean as when I started.”
+
+Alas, none of us can tell the march of events, and I am afraid if
+Jeannette and Elizabeth could have foreseen how the afternoon was going
+to terminate, they would have turned about and run back home again.
+
+Miss Helen greeted the little girls warmly, and soon they were
+comfortably seated on the wide porch, chattering gayly with Mrs. Cole
+about the dolls’ bathing-picnic.
+
+“Do you know,” said Miss Helen, “I asked you girls over to-day,
+especially to find out how you think the school children would enjoy a
+May-Day frolic, with Maypoles, a May Queen, and all the other pretty
+old customs?”
+
+“O goody, Miss Helen! Wouldn’t that be lovely,” exclaimed Wiggles and
+Jet in one voice.
+
+“Only,” added Jeannette sadly, “isn’t it too late? I thought May Day
+was the first of the month, and to-day is the middle.”
+
+“You’re right, Jeannette,” replied Miss Helen. “It always has been
+the first of May, but spring comes so late nowadays that the flowers
+and trees would hardly have been wide enough awake to help us by the
+first. Then it would have been far too cool to spend a whole day in the
+meadows wearing thin dresses, so I thought we could choose two weeks
+from to-day as our official May Day, and be sure of having it warm
+enough for both little girls and flowers.”
+
+“Would all the school be in it?” inquired Wiggles.
+
+“All the children that wanted to come,” replied Miss Helen. “I thought
+it might be fun to revive the old custom of May-baskets, and I wondered
+if you girls would like to help me make some to-day, to use as models
+to show to the school on Monday morning when I speak about the May
+frolic.”
+
+“We’d love to,” enthused the children, and Wiggles could not resist
+spinning around on one toe, “to let off steam.”
+
+“Did you and Mother ever make any when you were little girls?” inquired
+Jeannette, for Miss Helen and Mother had been schoolmates together at
+Meadowbrook years before, as Grandmother and Grandfather Carr had spent
+six or seven months of each year at The Lilacs ever since Mother’s baby
+days.
+
+“Yes, indeed, Jean and I always hung baskets on the door-knobs for each
+other. Here are the foundation frames that we will use to make the
+baskets on.”
+
+Miss Helen and her mother had cut out hundreds of cardboard
+basket-frames in preparation, and these were to be placed in the
+corridors of the school, so that the children might take as many as
+they wished to cover. The work, of course, must be done at home. The
+teachers had volunteered to make the Maypoles, and each pupil that
+wished to be on one was to furnish a ribbon, any color desired, and
+these would be fastened to the poles.
+
+“I want to make a basket for Mother, and Aunt Elsie, and Grandma,
+Jeannette, Marion, Alice, and Cubby, and--oh, lots more,” chattered
+Wiggles, checking them off on her fingers.
+
+“Suppose I give you three dozen basket-frames, assorted styles, to take
+home, and then you can divide with Marion and Alice and get as many
+more as you wish at any time. How would that do?”
+
+Both little girls agreed that would be splendid, and the basket-making
+started.
+
+Such beautiful crêpe and tissue papers as Miss Helen had provided for
+them. All colors of the rainbow were there, as well as many books
+showing how to make every kind of basket imaginable.
+
+“These books,” Miss Helen told them, “will be on my desk, and may be
+consulted at any time for ideas. I will furnish basket-frames for
+all the school, but the tissue paper the children must provide for
+themselves.”
+
+“There won’t be any trouble filling them,” said Wiggles, as her fingers
+snipped and folded busily, “for the wild flowers are just thick. All
+the May flowers are just ready to leave for the season, and all the
+June blossoms will just be coming in.”
+
+“But we wouldn’t have had many blossoms if we had planned it for the
+first of May,” said Miss Helen wisely. “These last two weeks have been
+exceptionally warm, and have just hurried things along. How do you like
+this?”
+
+“This” was a dainty yellow basket shaped like a daffodil blossom, with
+fluted petals and tiny touches of green.
+
+“Oh, Miss Helen, how pretty!”
+
+“That is for your mother,” said Miss Helen smiling. “And I am going to
+hang it myself May Day morning, with a pot of yellow jonquils inside.”
+
+The minutes flew as if by magic. It was such fun to see folds and
+twists of colored paper suddenly bloom under one’s fingers; and they
+all had to stop and admire each basket as it was completed. It seemed
+only a second before Queenie, the colored maid, appeared to tell them
+that tea was ready.
+
+“Them suah is powahful handsome,” said she, flashing her white teeth in
+a broad smile at the two little girls, of whom she was very fond.
+
+With reluctant fingers Jeannette laid down her scissors, and Wiggles
+brushed the snips from her dress.
+
+By the stone wall, under a peach-tree that was covered with fragrant
+pink blossoms, a dainty little tea-table had been spread, simply
+inviting hungry little girls to eat. There were the white beaten
+biscuits at which Queenie excelled, so light you might think they would
+fly away. Tiny lettuce sandwiches, and marmalade sandwiches, too, and
+stacks of golden-brown curly “leaf” cookies, smelling pleasantly of
+spice and other things good, decked each end of the table, while a rosy
+mound of Polly Wiggles’ favorite “squince” jelly, as she always called
+it, trembled temptingly on a sparkling glass dish.
+
+Then Queenie, her face all one broad grin, brought in bits of patties,
+filled to the brim with delicious creamed chicken, and, when these
+had disappeared to the last flaky crumb, there appeared tall crystal
+glasses heaped with custard ice-cream that was almost smothered with
+luscious scarlet strawberries.
+
+It was such fun to eat, with pink peach-blossoms showering petals upon
+them, and bluebirds and saucy jays screaming at them from near-by
+trees, attracted by the thought of crumbs.
+
+“I almost forgot to tell you about the choosing of the May King and
+Queen,” said Miss Helen suddenly, as the little girls nibbled at their
+cookies and admired the tiny candy-filled May-baskets of apple-blossoms
+that had been at each place as favors.
+
+Jeannette and Polly Wiggles looked up expectantly.
+
+“We are going to choose them by vote,” continued Miss Helen smiling at
+the eager faces. “Next Friday each pupil at school will cast two votes,
+one for King and one for Queen. Then the boy and girl with the greatest
+number of votes will have the honor of officiating at the May-Day
+Revels.”
+
+“That’s the only fair way,” agreed Mrs. Cole. “Otherwise there would
+be bickering and heart-burnings. Will the May-Day Majesties have any
+attendants?”
+
+“Yes, indeed. The King will choose four attendants,--a Herald and three
+Couriers. The Couriers will remain with him, and the Herald will ride
+before the line of march, blowing a trumpet, and announcing the King’s
+approach.”
+
+“Won’t that look pretty?” cried Jeannette. “Seems as if I could hardly
+wait.”
+
+“Then,” continued Miss Helen, “the Queen will select four Maids of
+Honor, and, like Jeannette, I think it will be a very pretty sight.
+Gracious, can that be thunder, so early in the season?”
+
+It certainly was a distant threatening grumble.
+
+“Seems to me it’s getting dark awfully early,” said Wiggles in much
+surprise. “Goodness, Jet, it’s six o’clock by Miss Helen’s wrist-watch.”
+
+Miss Helen was much astonished at the lateness of the hour, and
+reproached herself for not having noticed before the lengthening
+shadows and far-distant rumble. The little girls had told her upon
+their arrival that Grandma and Mother, Aunt Elsie and Cubby, had
+gone with the automobile into the city, and would not be back until
+dinner-time, so she knew there was no likelihood of James coming for
+them with the car.
+
+“We didn’t mean to stay so late, but it was ’cause we had such a lovely
+time,” said Wiggles ingeniously as she kissed Mrs. Cole and Miss Helen
+good-by, and tucked the bundle of basket-frames under her arm.
+
+“I don’t like to have you two little girls take that long walk through
+the woods alone,” said Miss Helen in a troubled voice, with a glance at
+the dark sky.
+
+“We’ll be all right, truly,” smiled Jeannette. “Thunder-storms don’t
+usually amount to much so early in the spring, and we’ll just scurry
+along and be home in a twinkling.”
+
+“Don’t take the woodland path,” advised Mrs. Cole, “and then you’ll
+surely be all right. Go round by the road instead. It’s only half the
+distance that way, even if it is dusty, and there is no glaring sun to
+annoy you now. It does look very much like a bad storm to me, but it
+won’t come yet awhile.”
+
+So with a parting wave of farewell, the sisters ran down the path,
+kinky black and long brown curls flying as they scampered along.
+
+Now there were two ways of returning to The Lilacs. About five minutes’
+walk from Miss Helen’s the road forked, one way leading through the
+woods, and the other along the highway. The highway was much the
+shorter route home, for it was the road used by the farmers and
+truckmen, and was well bordered by farmhouses and barns. The woodland
+path, by which the children had gone to Miss Helen’s in the early
+afternoon, was a long three-quarters of a mile, but it was so cool and
+shady, in contrast to the dusty, glaring highway, that the children
+greatly preferred it, especially on such a warm day. Now, as they
+started rapidly down the highway as Mrs. Cole had suggested, Wiggles
+stopped suddenly.
+
+“Oh, I forgot, Jet; we can’t go this way after all. Don’t you remember
+that Daddy told us there was a regular epidemic of scarlet fever all
+along here, and said until he told us differently we couldn’t use any
+but the woodland path?”
+
+“Sure enough,” said Jeannette, stopping short to wipe her flushed and
+overheated face. “Goodness, isn’t it dreadfully hot all of a sudden? I
+had forgotten all about it, Wiggles. I remember now that he said that
+eight of the houses were quarantined. Isn’t it too bad, for I’m so
+afraid we’ll get caught in the rain if we take the long way home. Just
+look at that sky.”
+
+Heavy thunder-caps entirely concealed the blue, and bright flashes of
+lightning went zigzagging across the heavens, while the low steady
+rumble of thunder was coming nearer and nearer.
+
+“It does look bad,” said Wiggles, “but it usually takes a long time to
+blow up, so let’s scurry”; and two pairs of white-stockinged legs went
+flashing down the narrow path that led into the woods.
+
+How dark it was! The overhanging trees completely shut out the little
+remaining light, and the path was too narrow for them to run rapidly.
+
+Everything looked so changed. When they had gone through in the early
+afternoon, straying sunbeams had dappled leaves and tree-trunks with
+patches of golden light, and the slender white birches nodded and
+swayed in the gentle breeze. Then they had stopped to admire the huge
+feathery ferns, and to gather a few delicate wind-flowers that peeped
+through the grasses like tiny pink stars. Bright-eyed chipmunks had
+stared at them with beady black eyes, and chattered angrily when
+they came too near, disappearing up the tree-trunks like streaks of
+brown, and scolding shrilly from the branches overhead. Friendly gray
+squirrels had poked inquisitive heads through the green leaves, and
+scampered from branch to branch and tree to tree in a riotous game of
+tag.
+
+Now bushes slapped angrily in their faces, and a frightened little
+rabbit scuttled in the bush, rushing to his bunny home before the storm
+broke; and a slippery snake wriggled across the path, as anxious to get
+out of their way as they were to have him.
+
+And all the while it grew darker and darker.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVEN
+
+OUT IN THE STORM
+
+
+Neither of the children had ever feared electric storms, and had,
+indeed, rather enjoyed the majesty and grandeur of them. But being
+alone in a dark wood, when the thunder was growling and the vivid forks
+of lightning flashed across the sky, was vastly different from admiring
+the coming storm safely from their own cozy home.
+
+They pelted along as fast as the curving path would allow, their hearts
+pounding with excitement and the rapid pace.
+
+“It’s raining already,” cried Polly Wiggles in alarm, as a drop
+spattered on her cheek and was rapidly followed by another. “Oh, our
+organdie dresses!”
+
+Oh, the organdie dresses indeed, for it was raining hard, and had been
+for several minutes, but the trees had proved a protection.
+
+“Oh, Wiggles, I’m scared!” quavered Jeannette at a particularly loud
+clap of thunder. “There isn’t a house we can go in until we reach the
+end of the woods, and Daddy always says that a forest is the worst
+place to be in an electric storm, as so many trees are struck. Whatever
+shall we do?”
+
+“We can’t _do_ anything,” responded Polly Wiggles in suspiciously shaky
+tones. “It’s as black as a pocket, and I can hardly see you, so we
+wouldn’t dare branch off anywhere, and it would take us just as long
+to try and go back to Miss Helen’s as it would to keep on toward home.
+Isn’t the lightning terrible? Nothing looks a bit natural, and I don’t
+even know if we’re on the path. It’s so dark I can’t see it at all, can
+you?”
+
+There is always a moment of terrific stillness before a big storm
+breaks, followed by a high wind; and the trees groaned and shivered as
+the first blast of the gale twisted the limbs and whipped the branches,
+nearly taking away the children’s breath. On top of it came a dreadful
+downpour that seemed as if the sky had opened, and in a twinkling both
+children were drenched to the skin. That was just the beginning. For
+years afterward, that storm was to be talked about as the “big storm,”
+for never had thunder and lightning been so intense, and never had the
+damage been so great.
+
+The poor children were chilled through and through, and their
+sopping-wet clothing clung to them till their teeth chattered with
+the cold. The butterfly hair-ribbons had blown away long ago, and
+Wiggles’ hair was a silky wet mass on her head, but Jeannette’s long,
+wringing-wet curls were blown and twisted about her throat till it
+seemed as if cold, damp fingers were trying to choke her.
+
+“Wiggles,” panted Jeannette, trying to lift her voice above the blast
+of the gale and the thunder’s boom, “we must get out of this woods or
+we’ll be killed by a falling tree.”
+
+“Let’s run till we come to that little clearing in the middle, and see
+if we can’t get in that old coffee-mill,” shouted Wiggles in reply,
+clinging to her sister.
+
+Down the rough path, black as night, ran the little girls, slipping on
+the wet moss, banging into tree-trunks, slapped by the heavy branches,
+falling into the mud, picking themselves up, and struggling on. What
+would Mother and Daddy think if they knew their darlings were in such
+danger?
+
+Wiggles’ slipper, held by a little narrow strap, came off, and the poor
+child, unable to find it in the darkness, was forced to continue over
+cruel stones that cut her tender feet and made every step a torture.
+
+Then, just when it seemed as if their panting little hearts could stand
+no more, there was a crash, and a ball of fire seemed to drop from the
+sky, while it felt as if the earth rose up and hit them.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+“I am so glad,” remarked Mrs. Cole, “that the children said they
+would go home by the highway. This is the most terrific storm I ever
+remember, and the dear little mites would be paralyzed with fear if
+they were out in it a minute. I shudder at the idea of any one in those
+woods to-night. There is no doubt but that lightning has struck there
+several times. It looked as if a ball of flame shot right down from
+the sky. I never would have believed that we could have such a severe
+storm so early in the season, but the weather has been unusually close.”
+
+[Illustration: THERE WAS A CRASH, AND A BALL OF FIRE SEEMED TO DROP
+FROM THE SKY.--_Page 102._]
+
+Miss Helen walked about nervously.
+
+“I am afraid I did wrong to let them return. I should have kept them
+here, but I never saw a storm spring up so rapidly,” she replied in
+a troubled voice, drawn against her will to the window. “Oh, look at
+that flash,”--with a little scream. “I never saw anything like it in my
+life. Something was struck near by.”
+
+“I don’t think you need worry at all about the children, Helen,”
+returned her mother. “I should never forgive myself if they had been
+out in this, but they had ample time to reach home before the first
+drops fell. That highway cuts the distance in half, you know, for the
+wood-path curves and winds so, that it is far longer. Wasn’t Elizabeth
+cunning? She simply beamed when you spoke about the May Frolic. I can
+just imagine them now, telling the others all about it.”
+
+“They are very dear children,” agreed her daughter warmly. “Jeannette
+is very much as her mother was, when she was a little girl. Personally
+I would love to have one of them for May Queen, but of course it would
+never do to show partiality, and the choice by vote is the only fair
+way. I am so nervous over them,” she continued, “that I am going to
+call up and be assured they are safely home.”
+
+The telephone gave no response, for the storm had disconnected the
+wires, and it was fortunate for Miss Helen’s peace of mind that she did
+not know the danger her little friends were in.
+
+It was an experience to cause the stoutest heart to quail, let alone
+two children who had always been surrounded by the tenderest love and
+care. But in spite of Miss Helen’s nervousness she never dreamed but
+that the children were safe at home, eating roast beef and mashed
+potatoes, and happily recounting the afternoon’s visit to all the home
+folks.
+
+The others just beat the storm, and the automobile drew up at The
+Lilacs as the first big drops pattered down.
+
+“Haven’t the children returned yet?” Mrs. Eaton inquired with surprise
+as Hannah opened the front door.
+
+“No, ma’am,” responded Hannah. “I guess Miss Cole thought she’d better
+keep them till the storm was over. It’s going to be a hard one, ma’am.”
+
+“I wants to see my Jet and Wiggles,” piped up Cubby in a grieved voice.
+
+“Undoubtedly they will stay with Helen,” said Grandma with an anxious
+glance out of the window. “She knows that James can get them after the
+storm is over. Goodness, what a crash!” And there was a general run to
+close the windows as the rain came down in sheets.
+
+Dr. Eaton and Grandpa Carr, who had been in the city all day, arrived
+next.
+
+“Why, where are the youngsters?” inquired Grandpa, looking about in
+surprise. It seemed so unusually quiet without their happy voices and
+merry laughter.
+
+“They went to Helen’s for an afternoon tea-party,” replied mother in a
+troubled voice, “and have not returned. I thought they would reach home
+long before us, but Helen makes such a fuss over the children, that
+she has undoubtedly prepared some delightful surprise for them, that
+has kept them longer than usual. You know what lovely tea-parties the
+youngsters always have when they go there. Nothing is too much trouble
+for her, to give them a good time, and I remember she told me that
+there was something she was anxious to talk over with them. Still, I
+wish they were safely home. I like my little brood around me in a storm
+like this. Just hear that gale. It sounds as if it were hailing.”
+
+Daddy and Grandpa looked worried. It was not like the children to
+remain, if it was at all possible to return home, and the same thought
+was in each mind, although they said nothing to alarm the others.
+
+“I’ll just ’phone and tell them we’ll be over later when the storm
+abates,” said Daddy casually. “H’hm,--the line’s out of order.”
+
+Grandfather was quietly getting out his raincoat and rubbers.
+
+“Guess I’ll take the car, and run over to Cole’s now, even if the storm
+_is_ pretty bad,” said Daddy with a glance at Grandpa, who was slipping
+a flashlight into his pocket. “Want to come along?”
+
+Neither let himself think that there was the slightest possibility of
+the children being out in the storm, but both pulled on old caps and
+heavy wraps.
+
+“Oh, if my babies were out in this!” shuddered Mother.
+
+“It’s not at all likely,” soothed Grandpa. “They’re undoubtedly at
+Helen’s, as cozy as can be. Still, I’ll just paddle along, too, and
+we’ll make sure.”
+
+It was fortunate for their peace of mind that the folks at The Lilacs
+believed the little girls chattering with Miss Helen and her mother.
+Still, it was comforting to know that Daddy and Grandpa would soon
+whisk them home.
+
+It was all the men could do to stand up, as they struggled out to the
+garage and climbed into the closed car. There was a tense line around
+Daddy’s mouth, and Grandpa’s ruddy face was white, as the powerful car
+whizzed along the muddy, slippery road, as fast as it could go with
+safety.
+
+It seemed an age before the light from the little cottage-windows came
+in sight.
+
+Miss Helen was surprised when Queenie opened the door to two dripping
+men, and she hastened out from the pantry, where she had been putting
+away the remains of the party.
+
+“I suppose my two little girls are safely with you?” said Dr. Eaton,
+listening in vain for a sound of childish voices.
+
+A horrified cry stopped him, and Miss Helen turned so white he thought
+she would faint.
+
+“The children?” she gasped. “Haven’t they reached The Lilacs yet? They
+left here almost an hour ago.”
+
+Mrs. Cole was as much alarmed as her daughter.
+
+“Don’t you think they have gone into one of the farmhouses on the
+highway?” she asked in a frightened voice. “I told them to be sure to
+go that way, as it was so short, and I thought they had plenty of time
+to reach home safely.”
+
+Dr. Eaton groaned. “I had already told them to use the path through
+the woods because of the scarlet-fever epidemic along the road,” he
+explained hurriedly. “That’s probably what they have done. My poor
+babies! No, don’t reproach yourself, Helen. They could have reached
+home easily by the highway. Have hot blankets and a hot drink ready,
+please. No one knows in what condition we shall find them.”
+
+The men plunged out into the night, leaving Miss Helen sobbing and
+wringing her hands.
+
+And, oh, the weary search that was started through the pouring rain by
+Daddy and Grandpa. Where, oh, where, were the children?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When the terrible crash had occurred, the poor children had thought
+that their last moment had come. The earth rocked and they went
+crashing to the ground.
+
+“Oh,” screamed Jeannette, “that ball of fire!” But Wiggles lay white
+and silent for a while, almost stunned into unconsciousness.
+
+Lightning had struck the tree right in back of them, and torn it in
+two. It was the very tree they had stood under while Wiggles had groped
+for her lost slipper a few minutes before. While just a short distance
+away, a giant oak, one of the mighty monarchs of the forest, fell with
+a crash, fortunately away from the trembling children, or they would
+have been crushed to death.
+
+“Jet, let’s pray,” gasped Elizabeth. So holding tightly to each other,
+the two little sisters asked that they might be kept from harm.
+
+The very next flash of lightning showed them the clearing in the woods,
+and the ramshackle old mill that had been discarded years before.
+Into its poor shelter crept the thankful children, and there, in its
+dilapidated and dirty ruins, clasped in each other’s arms, Grandpa and
+Daddy found them, almost dazed with the strain they had been under, and
+so weak they could hardly stand.
+
+“I knew you’d come,” gasped Wiggles hysterically, as clasped with
+Jeannette in Grandpa’s arms, while Daddy drove carefully, they made the
+return trip.
+
+The thunder wasn’t quite so terrifying with Grandpa’s coat-collar to
+snuggle against, although the men thought the journey would never end,
+and their loved charges be safe from danger.
+
+For years afterwards neither Daddy nor Grandpa could think of the
+search for the children without shuddering, and it was with thankful
+hearts that they saw the lights from Miss Helen’s cottage-windows
+in the distance. In five minutes Wiggles and Jet, stripped of their
+soaking garments, were rubbed until they cried for mercy, and then
+wrapped in warm blankets. Then Daddy bandaged Wiggles’ cut and swollen
+foot, and Miss Helen gave them big glasses filled with steaming-hot
+lemonade, which she made Grandpa and Daddy partake of as well, for they
+were soaked, too.
+
+After the last sip had been taken, the little girls were wrapped in
+clothes miles too big for them, and wound about with blankets until
+they resembled two very large cocoons, and tucked away in the auto,
+with their wet clothes in a sodden pile at the back. Then, snuggling
+down by Grandpa with a sigh of content, they went whirling toward home.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHT
+
+CUBBY PLAYS NURSE
+
+
+Such a time as there was at The Lilacs when the two little wanderers
+were carried in. Mother, Grandma, and Aunt Elsie, of course, had
+thought them safe and sound at Miss Helen’s. So, when Dr. Daddy
+splashed up the walk, carrying big bundles of what looked like old
+clothes, with rosy faces peeping out the top, there was a great hubbub.
+
+“Any old clothes to-day,--any old clothes to-day?” chanted Grandpa in a
+sing-song voice, as Grandma stood with open mouth, gazing at the roll
+of bathrobes and quilts that surrounded Wiggles.
+
+“Why-for you all rolled up like a itty (little) baby?” piped Cubby,
+scurrying wildly to and fro, and getting in every one’s way.
+
+“You poor little chickens!” exclaimed Mother and Grandma together,
+as the story was incoherently poured out by both excited children at
+once. Aunt Elsie was frantically dashing from room to room, running hot
+baths, slipping hot-water bottles into the beds, and making everything
+ready for their comfort, while trying to listen with one ear to the
+account.
+
+“They looked more like drowned rats than chickens,” twinkled Daddy,
+appearing in the doorway with his blond hair on end, to see how
+preparations were going on. He could joke about it, now it was over,
+but it was a night he would never forget.
+
+Oh, such hot baths as they were popped into, and such brisk rub-downs
+as they received! Then, as carefully as if they were bits of delicate
+porcelain, they were tucked into their cozy white beds and fed with
+delicious buttered toast and hot chocolate topped with whipped cream.
+
+“Oh, it’s so good to be home!” sighed Wiggles. “I thought I’d never see
+my pretty forget-me-not room again.”
+
+“Yes, doesn’t it look homey and cozy,” Jeannette replied, too
+comfortable even to turn her head as she spoke. “If I were a cat, I’d
+purr, I’m so comfy.”
+
+“O dear, every bone in my body aches. I know now what people mean
+when they say that they ‘feel limp as a dish-rag,’” returned Wiggles,
+stirring restlessly, “for I feel sort of all limpsy, and jelly-fishy,
+if you know what I mean. Ouch, my foot throbs like a toothache!”
+
+“I know it must,” Mother sympathized, appearing with a medicine-glass,
+“but the bandages that Daddy put on will soon make it better. Now
+I want you both to close your eyes and relax. Your nerves are all
+a-quiver from the shock, and you must calm down.”
+
+“Yes,” agreed Wiggles uneasily, “I’ll try. But when the wind goes
+‘Whoo-ooo’ and the rain dashes against the pane, it makes me feel sort
+of shivery.”
+
+“And every time the lightning flares and the thunder growls, I think a
+tree’s going to fall,” quavered Jeannette. “I’ll try to relax; I will
+honestly, Mother, but it seems to me it’s an awfully _long_ storm.”
+
+“And when I close my eyes I keep seeing the trees swaying, and the
+zigzags of lightning against the black sky, and feel that dreadful
+falling--falling----”
+
+“Don’t think about it any more, Polly-Wiggles,” said Daddy, popping
+his head in to see what all the chatter was about. “Take some of this
+medicine, and try to make your mind a blank. I’ll pull down the shades
+so you can’t see the rain, although I’m afraid you’ll still have to
+hear it, as, unfortunately, the Weather Man isn’t a friend of mine,
+and refuses to stop the downpour. You’ve been good little soldiers and
+obeyed instructions so far, and I’m proud of you, so try now to carry
+out orders.”
+
+As he spoke he slipped the screen about the beds and went out, closing
+the door softly. He was thinking with a shudder how the “carrying out
+instructions” might easily have caused their death.
+
+I wish you could have seen those organdie dresses. Torn by bush and
+bramble, and covered with stains where the children had fallen, no one
+would have recognized the pathetic-looking rags as the dainty frocks
+the little maids had started out in, looking so crisp and cool. All
+three ladies cried a bit at the tale the sodden garments mutely told.
+
+The tired-out children fell asleep almost immediately, but in the
+middle of the night Jeannette was aroused by a loud whisper.
+
+“Jet,--are you awake?”
+
+“Yes. Does your foot hurt you, Wiggles? Don’t you feel well?”
+
+“Yes, just as comfy as can be,” returned Wiggles, snuggling deeper into
+the soft bed and listening to the beating of the rain outside. “I was
+only thinking about our new organdie dresses. We were going to keep
+them so clean and fresh, and they must look like mud pies,”--with a
+little giggle. Wiggles’ sense of humor could not be downed long.
+
+Such lame, sore little girls as awoke next morning to a dreary world,
+for the storm had settled into a heavy downpour that flooded all
+outdoors.
+
+Daddy was delighted to find that there were no signs of colds from
+the exposure, but declared that bed for two or three days was his
+prescription, and that it would be the end of the week before school
+could be resumed.
+
+“Well anyway,” yawned Jeannette, “we’ll be back in time to vote for the
+King and Queen.”
+
+“And this will be a good time to write our verses for school,” added
+the youthful poetess. “Ouchety, I’m so lame that I couldn’t get out of
+bed if I wanted to. I must have what Mandy calls ‘misery’ in my back,
+and my foot burns like fire.”
+
+“I should think it would,” said her sister sympathetically.
+“Oh-h,”--with a shudder,-- “will you ever forget that ‘crack-crack’
+that sounded when that tree was struck? I never shall.”
+
+“Doesn’t it seem good to be safe at home,” said Wiggles in a dreamy
+voice. “I’m so thankful that I’m not a snake and have to live in the
+woods all the while. Well, if here isn’t Boots.”
+
+“Does Boots want to hear all about his sisters’ adventures?” asked
+Jeannette, as the fluffy pussy jumped on the bed and patted her cheek
+gently with one velvet paw.
+
+“He’s just trying to tell you that breakfast is on its way,” called
+Aunt Elsie, entering with a dainty tray, at which Boots licked his
+chops and fastened his green eyes intently upon the breakfast bacon.
+
+“I’se done made you chilluns some ‘jams’ for breakfast,” beamed fat
+Mandy, popping a woolly head in the door to inquire after her beloved
+‘white chilluns.’ “But I disremembered prezactly if ’twas corn ‘jams’
+or grahme ‘jams’ you-all liked best.”
+
+“Oh, _both_,” cried the invalids rapturously, sniffing with
+appreciation the steaming hot “gems” and strawberry jam that appeared.
+“No one can make them like you, Mandy.”
+
+“Well, I done reckon I knows how to cook, seeing as I’se had a skillet
+in one hand and a mixing spoon in t’other evah since I was knee-high
+to a grasshoppah,” chuckled Mandy, rolling out, vastly pleased with
+herself. They could hear her throaty chuckle all the way down the
+hall, and her voice saying, “Yas, ma’am, I knew they’d like some o’
+my ‘jams,’ Miss Jean”; for Mandy had been with the family ever since
+Grandma was a little girl, and never called Mother “Mrs. Eaton,” but
+the “Miss Jean” of her girlhood days instead.
+
+Cubby pattered in a few minutes later, to snuggle down on the bed
+beside Boots, and fasten wistful eyes on the strawberry jam, although
+she had already eaten her breakfast.
+
+In spite of the continued storm on Monday, Mother had to go into the
+city with Daddy to make a visit to the dentist, as one of her teeth had
+been grumbling all night, and it would not do to leave it.
+
+“You be a good little nurse to your sisters,” she told Cubby, kissing
+them all good-by.
+
+“Poor itty gurrls, so dreffle sick,” mourned Cubby, trotting from one
+bed to the other, to put sympathetic kisses on each small sufferer’s
+cheek, and greatly enjoying her own importance. It was very nice indeed
+to be the one in charge of the two older girls, instead of the other
+way about, for hadn’t Mother told her to take care of them?
+
+“Ouch, Cubby, don’t lean against my back,” squealed Jeannette. “It’s so
+sore it feels as if it would break in two.”
+
+“Want me to give ‘oo an al-colic rub?” volunteered the baby nurse,
+remembering the cooling alcohol sponges given to her when ill.
+
+“No, thank you, Miss Nurse,” answered Jeannette, entering into the
+play. “I’m afraid you’re too little. Say, Woggsie, if Cub is a
+really-truly nurse, she ought to wear a uniform.”
+
+“Sure enough,” returned that ingenious young lady. “Let me think.
+Cubby, you go get me two of Daddy’s handkerchiefs and I’ll fix you all
+up.”
+
+Nothing loath, the wee bear left the room, to return in a few minutes
+with a beaming face, followed by Aunt Elsie with a little white apron
+and a scrap of white lawn in her hand.
+
+“I thought I could fix up your nurse for you,” she suggested, pinning
+the lawn into a “sugar-bowl” cap, and fastening it to Cubby’s golden
+curls. One of Daddy’s handkerchiefs, folded and placed about her neck
+like a fichu, was adjusted next, and when the white apron-strings were
+tied about the plump little waist, the cunningest nurse stood before
+them that any patient could hope to have.
+
+“I’se a horse-pital nurse,” announced Cubby, flying to look in the
+mirror.
+
+“And we are your patients,” replied Jeannette. “Oh, nurse, nurse, I
+feel so ill. My fever is so high that my face has scorched the pillow.”
+
+Cubby cast a startled glance at the pillow-slip, and then carefully
+felt her patient’s pulse.
+
+“Derry, derry (very) sick,” said she with a frown, “with ’tile
+parenthis,” meaning infantile paralysis.
+
+“I have a fever in my feet,” announced Wiggles with a realistic groan
+that sent Cubby scurrying to her in alarm, “and my heart has stopped
+beating entirely.”
+
+“I’ll cut you open with the sciddors (scissors), like this,” said the
+nurse in a bloodthirsty manner, snipping her fingers up and down like a
+pair of shears, “and then you’ll be all wite after the apperation.”
+
+The third patient, who was purring loudly on the foot of Wiggles’ bed,
+was carefully looked over next.
+
+“Him’s pults (pulse) derry bad,” mourned Cubby, holding one soft paw in
+her little hand.
+
+“He has the ‘cat-tar,’ like Grandpa has,” explained Wiggles. “That’s
+the reason he snores. I do wonder why they named a disease after a cat.
+I must remember to ask Daddy.”
+
+“Well, what does Nursie suggest for her little patients?” smiled
+Grandma, entering with a vase of golden daffodils that Marion’s
+grandmother had brought to the children.
+
+“An al-colic rub,” replied Cubby firmly, “and some itty sugar pills.”
+
+“That’s a very good prescription,” answered Grandma, kissing the wee
+nurse. “And you are looking after your sisters very well.”
+
+“Oh,” replied that small damsel sweetly, “I don’t mind ’musing them for
+a little while, Grandma.”
+
+They all laughed at this, for it seemed to be rather the other way
+about, but Cubby’s responsible air was too funny for anything.
+
+“Aunt Elsie is downstairs with Mrs. West,” went on Grandma; “and I
+think, Cubby, that you had better run down and show them your costume
+while your patients take a nap until luncheon time. I am going to lie
+down myself, for my head aches rather badly, so the nurse may have an
+hour off duty.”
+
+So the windows were opened wide to let in the fresh air, and Grandma
+tucked the little girls in their cozy nests for a little “snooze,” and
+then went out, taking Cubby with her.
+
+Now Cubby had every intention of going directly downstairs into the
+library with Mrs. West and Aunt Elsie, so Grandma, after watching her
+trot down the broad stairway, went into her own room to rest.
+
+But at the foot of the stairs was Dr. Daddy’s office, past which Cubby
+must go to reach the library, which was at the front of the big house,
+and a naughty idea popped into her mind as she peeped in the open door.
+
+The girls had said that she was too little to give an alcohol rub, but
+her own Grandma hadn’t laughed, and had indeed seemed to think it a
+good idea. She just guessed that she would show them that she wasn’t a
+baby after all.
+
+So into Daddy’s office she tiptoed quietly, although it was the one
+place in the house where the children were forbidden to go.
+
+“’Cause,” whispered she, to soothe her guilty conscience, “I _must_ get
+the ‘al-colic.’”
+
+Onto a tall chair she climbed, to reach the big bottles that stood
+on top of the glass case. Fortunately, Cubby knew better than to
+touch, or give to any one else, the pills of different colors, that
+looked so fascinating, even if some of the white dots did taste like
+“sugar-bowls,” as she called lump sugar. Daddy had instilled that “do
+not taste” idea very thoroughly in her baby mind, so now it was only
+the alcohol for which she searched, remembering the big bottle in which
+she had seen it when she had a “rub.”
+
+“I’se my dear Muvver’s itty helper,” murmured she to herself, teetering
+back and forth on the high chair. “Won’t Muvver be ’sprised when she
+sees what I’se a-goin’ to do?”
+
+She would indeed.
+
+“Seems to be nuffin here but pills,” she went on in disgust, for
+Daddy’s big case, of course, was locked. Then suddenly her bright eyes
+spied a large bottle within easy reach of her eager little hands, on
+Daddy’s desk. Down she clambered, catching her white apron on the
+chair-back, and tearing a large hole.
+
+“Such a tender apron,” she mourned, sticking her fist through the hole,
+and, of course, enlarging it.
+
+All bottles containing liquid looked the same to the wee nurse, so,
+with a struggle, she hastily uncorked it and took a sniff.
+
+“Smells bitter,” she declared, turning up her little nose and making
+a face, for anything of which she did not like the smell or taste was
+“bitter” to her.
+
+The bottle happened to contain cod-liver oil, but this, of course, she
+did not know, and took it for granted that it was the desired alcohol.
+
+It was an awkward shape to carry, and it took great perseverance to lug
+it up the long staircase, but, quiet as a creeping mouse, the little
+figure stole along.
+
+In the library she could hear Mrs. West and Aunt Elsie chatting about
+the storm, and she hardly dared breathe until safely upstairs, where
+she peeked softly in the bedroom door.
+
+Both Jeannette and Elizabeth were sleeping soundly, with Boots snoozing
+happily beside them.
+
+With a satisfied gleam in her mischievous brown eyes, Cubby slipped
+stealthily in, and closed the door.
+
+[Illustration: SHE HASTILY UNCORKED IT AND TOOK A SNIFF.--_Page 125._]
+
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINE
+
+THE RESULTS
+
+
+Wiggles was dreaming uneasily. She thought she was running along
+through the woods, when her foot slipped and she fell down,--down, into
+a slimy marsh, and, no matter how hard she struggled, she could not get
+out, but felt the sticky-oozy mud all about her.
+
+Jeannette dreamed, too. It seemed as if she were in the kitchen, and
+colored Mandy was teaching her to make gems. She had the batter all
+mixed, and Mandy held the yellow bowl full of the mixture to show her
+how to pour it into the tiny muffin-tins. But, instead of pouring
+it where it belonged, Mandy upset the entire sticky mass all over
+Jeannette, and she could feel the clammy stuff trickling down her back.
+
+Boots likewise dreamed, but I cannot begin to tell you what he dreamed
+about, except to say that it was a dreadful, _dreadful_ “cat-mare.”
+
+Mrs. Eaton returned at twelve, with her tooth all fixed. Mrs. West was
+just leaving, and so Aunt Elsie and Mother ran up the stairs together.
+Grandmother met them at the top, to inquire about the toothache.
+
+“The children have been taking a nap,” she said, “and so have I. They
+must be getting a nice rest, for everything is so quiet--” and at
+that, bedlam broke out in the forget-me-not room, and cat-yowls and
+children’s excited voices could be heard together.
+
+“Mother, Mother,” shrieked Wiggles. “I think Boots must be having a
+fit, and we’re all stuck up.”
+
+“What does the child mean?” gasped Grandma. All three ladies made a
+dash to open the door into the children’s room, as the enraged Boots,
+looking a queer spectacle, shot out, spitting violently.
+
+“That’s not a fit,” cried Aunt Elsie, “he’s just plain angry. What can
+that be that he has all over him?”
+
+“For pity’s sake, children, what have you been doing?” asked Mrs. Eaton
+in amazement. “Can these be my little girls?”
+
+No wonder she asked, for Jeannette’s long curls were a glued-together
+mass down her back, and the backs of both children’s nightclothes were
+dripping with a thick, sticky substance.
+
+A small figure in white arose from the floor, from between the beds,
+where it had been sitting, “on duty,” as a nurse should be.
+
+“I gaved ’em an al-colic rub,” said Cubby triumphantly.
+
+“Alcohol nothing,” exclaimed Aunt Elsie, gingerly picking up the large
+bottle the “nurse” still clasped. “Cod-liver-oil, instead.”
+
+“What is all the racket about?” inquired Daddy from the doorway, and
+gave an astonished glance at his little daughters.
+
+“So that’s where my cod-liver-oil bottle disappeared, is it? Well,
+well, I never realized you children were so fond of it that you used it
+to bathe in.”
+
+“Cubby, you scamp--,” began Mother severely, but was stopped by an
+anguished wail from the wee nurse. “I--I fought it was al-colic,” she
+hiccoughed, “and I wanted to hel--lup.”
+
+Of course the first thing to be done was to pop the children into the
+tub. Mother took Wiggles, and Aunt Elsie, Jeannette, and into the big
+bath-tub they were dipped for more rubbing and scrubbing.
+
+“Aren’t we the most mis-fortunate children you ever saw?” sighed
+Wiggles, as she was soused up and down. “Ouch, you’re taking my skin
+off, too!”
+
+“I may have to,” Mrs. Eaton said grimly. “I never saw such stuff to
+scrape off. Never mind, chickabiddies, it might have been worse, for
+Cub might have taken glue.”
+
+Grandma, swathed in a large rubber apron, was dipping the wee culprit
+into the big foot-tub, shaped like a sea-shell, for Cubby had liberally
+besmeared herself as well.
+
+“The soap’s in my face,” howled Cubby, who was struggling violently.
+
+“Well, the cod-liver oil’s in mine,” said Jeannette savagely, having
+the hardest time of them all, as Mother and Aunt Elsie worked over the
+long curls.
+
+Down in the basement it was a question as to who was having the worse
+time,--Boots or Dr. Eaton. Cats hate water, and poor Dr. Eaton had to
+scrub pussy vigorously in the stationary tubs, to get the thick fur
+back to its usual state.
+
+“Meow, meow!” went poor Boots, and “scrub, scrub” went the Doctor, both
+looking very unhappy, for Boots had struggled until the front of Dr.
+Eaton’s suit was all spattered with soapy water.
+
+Hannah was changing the messy bed, with many shakes of her head over
+the antics of “dat naughty lamb.”
+
+At last the youngsters were tucked safely away once more, and
+long-suffering Mother departed to change her dress.
+
+Fifteen minutes later a chastened Boots strolled in, looking so thin
+and forlorn, with his fluffy fur all slicked down, that the children
+screamed with laughter.
+
+“Oh, oh, I know just how he feels,” gasped Wiggles, “for I never want
+to see a scrubbing-brush again.”
+
+Aunt Elsie fixed him a cushion by the window, where an occasional
+sunbeam tried to peep in, and little by little his hair fluffed out
+anew.
+
+Then sorrowful wails were heard, and Cubby entered, both hands wrapped
+round and round with long bandages until they looked like well-stuffed
+pincushions and were impossible to use.
+
+“’Cause my paddies were naughty,” sobbed she, burying her head like a
+little ostrich in Aunt Elsie’s lap, “and that’s the ‘why.’”
+
+“Naughty little hands that get into mischief have to be punished so
+they will remember not to touch things they should not, again,” said
+Mother seriously. “Don’t you think so, Elsie?”
+
+“I do, indeed,” Aunt Elsie replied gravely, stifling an impulse to hug
+the naughty little culprit, who howled afresh at Auntie’s words.
+
+“Does she have to have pincushion hands long?” asked the sisters
+sorrowfully, for they hated to see the baby bear punished.
+
+“Until dinner-time,” replied Dr. Eaton. “She _must_ realize how very
+naughty it was to touch any of Daddy’s medicines. It might have been
+acid, or something that would have really injured you, instead of just
+making you feel uncomfortable.”
+
+“I’se sorry,” wept the small sinner, with huge crocodile tears raining
+down her rosy face.
+
+“What are you sorry about?” questioned Daddy, taking her on his knee.
+
+“I loves ’oo,” cajoled the artful baby, smoothing her father’s hair as
+best she could with her pudding-like hands, and planting a kiss on his
+cheek.
+
+“Yes,” replied Dr. Eaton unmoved, wishing to make certain that she
+fully understood why she was punished. “But what are you sorry about?”
+
+“Why, why,” murmured she, “I’se sorry ’cause I can’t do what I wants to
+do any more.”
+
+Dr. Eaton hastily turned away his head. She looked so little and
+cunning sitting there, bolt upright, on his knee, with her golden curls
+nodding, and the ridiculous pudding-like bandages on each little hand,
+that it was hard to continue the punishment. It was easy to see that
+she didn’t understand at all why she was being punished, so for a long
+time he talked to her in simple words, explaining how she might have
+badly hurt her sisters by her disobedience, and, when the luncheon-bell
+sounded, she showed that she really understood.
+
+I don’t believe I have told you about the big double room that the
+sisters shared at The Lilacs. It was such a pretty room that it was
+a pleasure just to lie in bed and look around, while the others were
+eating their luncheon. The walls were a soft, cloudy blue, and an
+artist friend of Grandpa’s had painted blue and yellow butterflies and
+bees, sipping at festoons of forget-me-nots, in a dainty border around
+the ceiling. The children loved to rest quietly and look at them, they
+were so pretty.
+
+The furniture was white, with twin beds for the little girls; and the
+windows were draped with the prettiest cretonne, up which pink buds and
+blue forget-me-nots clambered, while blue rag rugs on the floor had
+tiny pink and blue posies woven in the border. The white furniture was
+painted with sprays of forget-me-nots, while bed-spreads of the same
+cretonne as that which draped the windows, covered the beds when the
+children were not in them.
+
+The girls were both much surprised when Mother and Aunt Elsie rolled
+their beds together, and then placed a bed-table over them, which
+was covered with a dainty white cloth. Then, instead of the usual
+individual trays, Grandma set the children’s places with the dearest
+little blue tea-set you can imagine.
+
+“Where did you get them, Grandma?” demanded Jeannette, examining the
+pictures on each side with much interest.
+
+“That set belonged to Jean and Elsie,” replied Grandma, filling a tiny
+chocolate-pot as she spoke, and placing cold sliced chicken on the
+tea-plates.
+
+“Our own mother and Auntie, when they were little girls,” declared
+Wiggles with satisfaction, starting her luncheon with much zest. “It
+tastes lots better on these than on ordinary dishes. Just look at those
+lovely gooey marshmallow cakes that Mandy baked for us, Jet.”
+
+“I’m going to do more than _look_,” returned Jet with spirit, and
+biting into one as she spoke. “Yum-yum, these are a treat. She’s
+put chopped cherries in the marshmallow cream inside, and they’re
+_heavenly_.”
+
+“She calls them angelettes. It’s her own name for them. I remember
+these dishes well,” Mrs. Eaton continued with a laugh. “Helen Cole used
+to come over here and have tea-parties on them when we were about your
+age, and even younger. We always had sponge cake and lemonade, and two
+striped peppermint candies apiece. It seems as if I ought to have some
+now.”
+
+“Did Aunt Elsie play tea-party, too?”
+
+Mother cast a mischievous smile at her sister, who laughed as if
+recalling something funny.
+
+“Oh, what is it?” cried Wiggles. “I can see by the twinkle in your eye
+that there is a joke.”
+
+“Well,” replied Mother, industriously darning socks, “your Aunt Elsie
+was my baby sister, as you know, and she was only two years old at the
+time we started our tea-parties. She simply adored the chocolate-pot in
+that set, and, every chance she got, she would steal it and hide under
+the dining-room table with it.”
+
+“I’m s’prised that you were such a little mischief,” remarked Wiggles,
+demurely.
+
+“One afternoon Helen and I had been playing dolls on the veranda, when
+Mother came to the door to tell us that the tea-party was all ready. We
+always had our tea-parties on a little white table on the side porch,
+but when we reached the table, the chocolate-pot, full of lemonade, had
+disappeared, although all the other refreshments were untouched. It was
+the first time that Elsie had found the opportunity to take it when
+it was filled, but it really wasn’t the lemonade she wanted, it just
+seemed as if the chocolate-pot itself fascinated her.
+
+“Of course we rushed right out to the dining-room, and there, under the
+big table, was Elsie, clasping it in her two little hands and gulping
+down the contents from the spout as fast as she could swallow.
+
+“I can see her yet, with her long golden curls hanging down over her
+shoulders, and the lemonade smeared all over her face and hands, and
+down the front of her white frock, but with the most angelic expression
+on her face you can imagine.”
+
+“Imagine Aunt Elsie being so naughty,” laughed Jeannette. “Why, she
+must have been as mischievous as Cubby.”
+
+“She was every bit as bad, and maybe worse,” said Grandma with a smile.
+“In fact, Cubby puts me very much in mind of her. It seemed to me as
+if she went from one piece of mischief to another as fast as she could
+go. Many and many a time she has had pudding-hands, just like the wee
+bear, and I have even known her feet to be tied up because she would go
+‘visiting,’ unknown to me.”
+
+“Why, Aunt Elsie, weren’t you dreadful? Won’t you please tell us some
+more stories about when she was a little girl, Grandma?”
+
+“Oh, do,” urged Jeannette. “Daddy says we mustn’t read in bed, and,
+though I’m so tired of lying still, I’m too lame to get up.”
+
+“How would you like to come in my room for a little change?” asked
+Grandma. “You could be together in my big double bed, and I will tell
+you some stories, if you like.”
+
+“O goody, that would be lovely!” cried both children.
+
+They clambered out of bed with many grunts of pain, and slipped into
+blue bedroom slippers and warm blue corduroy bath-robes.
+
+Then, led as usual by Boots, the little party scurried across the hall
+to Grandmother’s lilac room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TEN
+
+GRANDMOTHER’S STORY-QUILT
+
+
+Each bedroom at The Lilacs was done in a different color. Jeannette
+and Elizabeth had one of the back bedrooms, overlooking the stream and
+orchard, while Aunt Elsie’s room, all pale pink with ivory furniture,
+was right next door.
+
+Dr. and Mrs. Eaton had the yellow-and-white room, with its buff walls,
+white furniture, and daisy-strewn cretonne. This was one of the big
+front rooms, and from it opened a wee bit of a room, not much larger
+than a playhouse, which Cubby proudly claimed as her very own.
+
+But Grandmother’s room the children all thought the very best of all.
+This was the other large front bedroom, opening from Cubby’s tiny nest.
+From the windows one could see the brick-pathed, old-fashioned flower
+garden, bordered with lilac hedges and syringa bushes, while right
+across the road was “White Birches,” the beautiful estate that had
+been closed for so many years, and whose velvety terraces sloped down
+to the crystal-clear waters of Willow Lake. It was the most beautiful
+estate in Meadowbrook, and the children never grew tired of admiring
+the beautiful grounds and little rustic bridge that spanned the Lake.
+Wonderful little summer-houses dotted the edge of the water, and one,
+more daring than the rest, rose like a monstrous white water-lily out
+of the very waters, and could be approached by boat or stepping-stones.
+
+The children never tired of hearing about when Mother was a little
+girl, and had played with another little girl named Marie Deering,
+whose parents had owned White Birches for many years. Many years later
+the place was closed, and Mrs. Eaton lost track of her friend, to her
+great sorrow.
+
+Wiggles and Jet had woven all kinds of romances about the place. They
+loved to play that it was an enchanted palace, and that, until the
+Fairy Prince, on his white charger, drank thrice of the magic waters
+of Willow Lake, the house would stand idle, with closed doors and
+drawn shades. But as soon as the prince quaffed the crystal waters,
+the palace would stir to life, and a beautiful princess would appear,
+who would graciously invite “Miss Elizabeth and Miss Jeannette” over
+to play dolls in the fascinating summer-houses, and to ride on the
+prince’s white charger.
+
+It was an interesting fancy, and enlivened many a rainy day.
+
+“O dear! why couldn’t White Birches be open, with a little girl to play
+with us now,” sighed Wiggles wistfully, as she pressed her nose against
+the pane in Grandma’s front window, and stared across at the “Enchanted
+Palace,” as they called it.
+
+“Hurry up children, skip into bed,” said Grandma. “We don’t want you to
+catch cold, and it’s still very damp.”
+
+“I just love your room, Grandma,” said Wiggles, as she scampered away
+from the window. “It’s so restful, and quiet-looking.”
+
+It was a restful room, as Elizabeth said. The furniture was of French
+gray, with big cuddly wicker-chairs upholstered in the prettiest
+lilac-strewn cretonne. The walls were papered in the softest shade
+of lavender, with a deep border of lilac sprays. The children always
+called this “The Lilac Room,” while Mother’s was named “The Daisy
+Room,” and tall crystal vases filled with the starry yellow-and-white
+flowers stood on her dresser and table during all the summer months.
+
+“The Rosery” belonged to Aunt Elsie, and was named from the baskets of
+roses that tumbled their crinkly petals down the pink walls from the
+border above.
+
+Of course Jet and Polly Wiggles called their own particular sanctum
+“The Forget-me-not Room,” and Cubby insisted on calling her spot,
+“The Nest,” although, as the older girls pointed out, “Who ever heard
+of a bear-cub sleeping in a nest? It ought to be ‘The Den,’ or ‘The
+Cubby-Hole.’”
+
+However, it was very convenient to have each room named, for Mother
+could say: “Trot upstairs and see if I left my gloves in the Nest. If
+not, I dropped them on the floor of the Rosery.”
+
+Or Grandmother would call, “Will you see if I left my glasses on the
+Daisy bed?”
+
+It was very comfortable to cuddle down in Grandmother’s downy bed, and
+to be tucked about with the huge quilt made of silk patchwork squares,
+which Grandma pulled out of her roomy closet.
+
+Aunt Elsie and Mother brought their sewing and settled themselves
+comfortably in the wicker-chairs, while Grandmother knitted busily on
+a pink sweater she was making for the wee bear. Cubby, still feeling
+greatly disgraced, curled down in a little ball by her sisters, while
+Boots jumped on the arm of Grandmother’s chair, and watched her
+knitting with interest, occasionally stretching one lazy paw to catch
+at the wool in a languid effort at play.
+
+“You said you’d tell us some stories,” reminded Jeannette, snuggling
+down with a little wriggle of content.
+
+“I brought out my story-quilt purposely for you,” replied Grandma, with
+a little nod toward the patchwork covering that billowed about the
+children.
+
+“Your story-quilt? Doesn’t that sound interesting? What do you mean?”
+asked Wiggles, gazing with eyes like full moons at the bright-colored
+silk and satin squares and triangles.
+
+So Grandmother explained that almost every piece in that patchwork had
+a story connected with it, and how she had made the quilt herself out
+of left-over scraps of material that had an interest for her. “You
+choose any square you wish,” she advised, “and if it has any kind of a
+story at all, I’ll tell you all about it.”
+
+Many of the silks looked odd to the children’s eyes, with the
+old-fashioned designs so different from those of the present day, while
+some of the materials were so old that the silk had worn into tattered
+ribbons.
+
+Finally, after pausing undecided before several that looked
+interesting, Jeannette pointed to a square of white silk, with a
+pattern of scarlet checkerberries woven in it, and said, “I choose that
+one.”
+
+“I must have been about Cubby’s age,” said Grandmother, “when I had
+that dress. Children in those days did not wear thin dresses, like you
+little ones do nowadays, except in hot weather, for the houses were not
+so well heated in the winter. Instead, we wore thick woolen dresses all
+winter, as soon as we could walk, that is, for everyday use, with silk
+ones for our very best, and over our dresses we usually wore black silk
+aprons.”
+
+“Black silk aprons?” echoed Wiggles. “Why, Grandma, how funny.”
+
+“It didn’t look at all funny then, my dear, when every one else was
+wearing them, too,” explained Grandmother, smiling at the children’s
+horror.
+
+“We lived in those days in the center of the city, and I had a nice
+little room which opened from my parents’ room, down two little steps,
+for many of the old-fashioned houses had steps between one room and
+another.”
+
+“Why was that, Grandma?” inquired Jeannette.
+
+“I’m sure I don’t know, my dear. It always seemed a very foolish waste
+of footsteps to me, and a dangerous way of spraining ankles. For
+instance, in our home you had to go down two steps into the bathroom
+from the hall. To enter father’s library, you climbed up three steps
+from the double parlors, and, as I said, there were steps between
+Mother’s room and mine. Of course, if you opened a door suddenly, and
+forgot those little steps, you bumped your nose pretty badly.
+
+“I remember my mother’s dressing me in this new white dress, with the
+sprays of berries on it, which was trimmed with rows and rows of narrow
+cherry-colored velvet ribbon; and putting on my long striped stockings
+that had cherry-colored stripes to match my frock, running round and
+round like peppermint stick-candy. It was really a very pretty outfit
+for those days, and I felt very much dressed up indeed. My flaxen hair
+was pulled straight back and held in place with a large round comb, and
+then frizzed out behind, just down to the collar of my dress.
+
+“I know I felt very proud of myself, and looked in the long, gilt-edged
+mirror that hung in the parlor between two horsehair chairs, with a
+great deal of satisfaction.”
+
+“Didn’t you feel dreadfully in such funny striped stockings,
+Grandmother?”
+
+“Not half so funny as I would have felt if I had had to wear socks. I
+should have been shocked to wear such things, for they were unknown,
+and would have looked just as queer to our eyes as striped stockings
+look to yours.”
+
+“May I pick out a square now?” asked Wiggles eagerly.
+
+“Yes, it’s your turn next,” replied Grandma, catching Boots just in
+time, as he tangled her pink worsted in two playful paws and prepared
+to have a fine frolic.
+
+“Him’s naughty puss-cat,” said Cubby severely. “Him ought to have him’s
+pawsies tied up, too.”
+
+“So he should,” laughed Mother, “only I’m afraid he’d understand the
+reason even less than you did, and I think, Babykins, that your
+bandages may come off in another half-hour.”
+
+“Have you decided yet?” asked Grandmother, as Wiggles paused
+uncertainly between two pretty pieces.
+
+“I think I’ll choose this dark gray square with the bunches of scarlet
+cherries in it,” she said at last. “Has it a story, Grandma?”
+
+“Yes, indeed. It’s another short one, a story about your own mother
+when she was a very tiny girl, and went to the World’s Fair at
+Chicago.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER ELEVEN
+
+WHEN MOTHER WAS A LITTLE GIRL
+
+
+“Your mother was just three years old when your grandfather and I took
+her on the trip to Chicago and the World’s Fair, and through the ‘Soo’
+to Mackinac Island by boat. It was a long trip for such a little child,
+but Jean was a remarkably good baby, and traveled wonderfully well.”
+
+“I can still remember the huge Ferris Wheel at the Fair,” put in
+Mother, as Grandma paused; “but everything else is a blur.”
+
+“Did Aunt Elsie go, too?” inquired Jeannette with interest.
+
+“There wasn’t an Aunt Elsie in those days,” replied Grandma, with a
+smile, “and so we had only the one little girl to take.
+
+“Jean was such a pretty child that I was very proud of her, and every
+one used to turn around to look at her on the street. She had great
+big dark eyes like Jeannette, and short chestnut-brown hair that she
+wore in a deep bang over her forehead.”
+
+“And what did she wear, Grandmother?” asked Wiggles with interest.
+
+“She wore a dress of that very material, Polly Wiggles, that you have
+chosen,--dark gray with bunches of scarlet cherries scattered over
+it, and a dark red coat with a big cape collar. Of course her dresses
+were long, as it was fashionable at that time for little girls to have
+frocks down to their ankles.”
+
+“Just imagine,” cried Jet in horror. “How funny she must have looked.
+Did she wear pantalettes, too?”
+
+Both Jeannette and Wiggles had read of the fancy pantalettes that were
+worn by the children in olden days.
+
+Grandmother and Mother both had to stop their work and laugh, while
+Cubby joined in, although she hadn’t the slightest idea what the joke
+was about.
+
+“Why, what’s so funny?” chorused the children, surprised at the mirth
+Jet’s remark had caused.
+
+“My dear children,” gasped Grandma, “excuse us for laughing, but they
+didn’t even wear pantalettes in _my_ childhood days. It was away back
+in your great-grandmother’s time when those were worn, so of course
+Jean did not have them.”
+
+“Oh, ‘way back in the dark ages,” exclaimed Wiggles so seriously that
+both Grandma and Mother started laughing anew.
+
+“Jean wore the cunningest little scoop bonnet of shirred red silk,”
+went on Grandma, resuming her tale, “and she certainly was a picture
+with her rosy cheeks and great dark eyes. On her feet she had little
+strapped black slippers, and her dress was made with two pockets, in
+one of which she carried a tiny silk handkerchief embroidered in red
+cherries. It is the same one that you have in your doll trunk to-day,
+Wiggles.
+
+“Jean was very funny on the boat, and not a bit afraid of the water;
+in fact, she was as good as a kitten most of the time, and a great
+pet with all the passengers, although she was very shy and did not
+make friends easily. There was one man, a Mr. Sam Brown, who played
+with her a great deal. He was a tall, very thin gentleman, with a
+little goatee, and I suppose hearing him called ‘Sam’ confused her, so
+that she associated him in her mind with the cartoons of ‘Uncle Sam’
+in the newspapers, and insisted on calling him ‘Uncle Ham,’ much to
+his amusement. For Jean talked very, very crooked, and when we first
+reached Chicago she called it ‘He-cargo,’ while when we returned she
+had changed it to ‘She-cargo.’
+
+“Several things happened on board boat that were laughable, and once
+I was very thankful that she talked so crookedly that no one could
+understand her.”
+
+“There was a lady on board who really annoyed the child with
+attentions, asking her questions every minute, and keeping at her
+constantly to hear her funny talk, until Jean took a great dislike to
+her and wouldn’t have anything to say at all. One morning she had been
+teasing Jean for a long time, asking, over and over again, what her
+name was, and where she lived, and all kinds of things. But not a word
+would Jean utter. Finally the lady said, ‘Why won’t you talk to me,
+Jean?’
+
+“‘’Cause,’ Jean said decidedly in the sweetest little voice, ‘you’re
+too “inquissia.”’”
+
+“_What_ did she mean?” asked both children in astonishment.
+
+“That was what the lady tried to find out. The child meant,
+‘inquisitive,’ and it was the nearest she could pronounce it. I really
+couldn’t blame her, but for once I was most thankful for her crooked
+tongue.”
+
+“It was the same afternoon that she played a trick on me that might
+have turned out seriously. I had gone with her to our stateroom to
+dress for dinner. I dressed her in her little red frock first, and she
+played busily around the room by herself while I was combing my hair.
+She had a great fondness for opening and shutting doors, so she slipped
+in and out of the room into the corridor several times, fussing with
+the key and turning the knob, and not making a bit of trouble. I was
+just slipping into my gown for dinner, when, after fumbling with the
+lock, she cried triumphantly, ‘I’se locked you in.’
+
+“I thought, of course, that she was just playing, for she had never
+before turned a key, and the lock on our door worked very hard; but in
+some way or other her busy little fingers had managed it, and there
+I was, tightly locked in my stateroom while my mischievous baby was
+outside, free to go as she pleased.
+
+“Of course I rushed over and tried the door, only to hear her feet
+pattering rapidly down the passage-way, although I called her to come
+back. I was nearly frantic. Her father was on deck, talking to some
+acquaintances, but it was not at all likely that Jean would go anywhere
+near him, now that she had this unexpected liberty, and of course he
+believed we were together in our room. No one could tell where she
+might take it into her head to roam, and it seemed as if my heart would
+stop beating as I thought of the possibility of her going on deck
+alone, and maybe falling overboard.”
+
+“Why didn’t you ’phone the office?” asked Wiggles in much surprise,
+with a recollection of the telephone service in the hotel room when she
+had once stayed over night in New York.
+
+“You must remember that we didn’t have all those conveniences then,”
+replied Grandma, “and the boats on the ‘Soo’ were not up-to-date, even
+for those times.
+
+“I pounded and pounded on my door, hoping some one would hear me, but
+it was a long while before any one chanced by, and when I called out my
+predicament, it was discovered that naughty Jean had not only locked me
+in, but had taken the key with her as well.”
+
+“Oh, Mother,” cried both little girls, “what ever made you do it?”
+
+“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you,” laughed Mrs. Eaton, “for I was so
+little that I haven’t the faintest recollection of it at all.”
+
+“Fortunately,” continued Grandmother, “Grandfather--only he wasn’t a
+grandfather then--had wondered why we were gone such an unusually long
+time, so, as I was explaining matters he came along, and of course
+hurried right out to hunt up the naughty little runaway immediately,
+and get the key to release me.”
+
+“He found Jean on deck with another little girl, having a beautiful
+time eating oranges, of which she was very fond. He was very much
+relieved to find her safe and sound, and snugly tucked in her tiny
+pocket was the key. I had been locked in that stateroom an hour while
+she roamed around as she wished and explored the boat. It was most
+fortunate that she didn’t get into worse mischief.”
+
+Both children were greatly diverted, and were just going to beg for
+another story, when Grandpa appeared in the doorway with a big paper
+package tucked under his arm.
+
+“How are the little invalids?” he cried heartily. “You chickabiddies
+gave me a scare. I looked in your room, and you had gone, but I thought
+I heard a busy twittering down this way, and, sure enough, I find
+you’ve flown over to a new roost. Here is something warranted to keep
+you busy and out of mischief to-morrow,”--and he tossed the big parcel
+on the bed, where it was eagerly pounced upon by the little girls.
+
+Cubby hastily put both bandaged hands behind her, but Grandpa saw them
+just the same as he leaned over to kiss her.
+
+“Why, what’s all this?” he inquired. “Why the little pincushions? Have
+they been naughty paddies?”
+
+A mute nod was the answer, as Cubby burrowed her curly head in his
+waistcoat.
+
+“I think that they have been punished enough,” said Mrs. Eaton, leaning
+over to smooth the golden locks.
+
+So Grandpa undid roll after roll, until the mischief-making pink snips
+of hands came into sight once more, and, with a rainbow smile, the wee
+bear scurried over to look at the interesting big bundle her sisters
+were unwrapping with many squeals of delight.
+
+Inside was package after package of tissue and crêpe paper in every
+color and shade imaginable, and when they saw the pinks and the
+yellows, the dainty lavender and blues, they jounced up and down in the
+big bed until Grandpa declared that they had better “go easy” or he
+would have to sleep on the floor that night.
+
+Of course all the basket patterns had been lost during the
+thunder-storm, but Miss Helen had called Sunday morning to inquire
+after the children, and had brought over plenty more, so they could
+make as many shapes and varieties of baskets as they wished.
+
+“Oh, you darling Grandpa!” declared Wiggles, giving him a hug that
+nearly strangled him, while Jeannette and Cubby joined in until there
+was a great powwow.
+
+“We’ve been hearing about how naughty Mother used to be,” said Wiggles
+with glee. Truth to tell, she had been greatly pleased to find that she
+wasn’t the only one who got into funny scrapes. “We heard all about the
+time when she locked Grandma in her stateroom.”
+
+Grandpa leaned over and examined the quilt closely.
+
+“Look here, youngsters,” he said. “Here’s a piece of your Grandmother’s
+wedding dress, and this is a snip from the very plaid necktie that I
+was wearing when I first spoke to the little girl who many years later
+became my wife, and who is now your Grandmother.”
+
+“Oh, do tell us,” implored Jet.
+
+“Yes, do,” coaxed Polly-Wiggles.
+
+“I shall never forget that day,” went on Grandpa, with a teasing smile
+at the expectant faces before him.
+
+“Grandfather Carr, that’s mean just to tease us! Please tell us,”
+implored both children, snarly black curls and smooth brown ones bent
+together over the fascinating story-quilt.
+
+“You youngsters want to remember that you are invalids, and must not be
+excited,” returned Grandpa gravely, looking from one sparkling face to
+the other. “You must lie down quietly in a darkened room----”
+
+“Grandpa Carr, you mean tease!” put in Jet, reading the twinkle in his
+eye.
+
+“--and not be disturbed by _any_ conversation----”
+
+Two deep groans interrupted him.
+
+“--and have gruel and dry toast for your supper,” went on Grandpa
+gravely, watching the expression of disgust on each face.
+
+“Ugh. Gruel--we _hate_ it.”
+
+“And,” he continued as if there had been no interruption, “possibly by
+next week, or the week after, if you follow these directions _most_
+carefully, you will be strong enough to stand hearing me tell a story.”
+
+“_Grandpa!_ Next week or the week after! Aren’t you awful!”
+
+“I only said _possibly_ even then,” reminded Grandfather, who dearly
+loved to tease.
+
+“We won’t make you any May-baskets,” Wiggles said mischievously. “And
+just think how your heart would break at that.”
+
+“Dear me, if that’s the case I’d better look over that quilt again,”
+exclaimed Grandpa in mock alarm. “But remember, youngsters, if you
+should have a collapse, that I warned you.”
+
+“We’ll be _warned_,” giggled Wiggles, imitating her grandfather’s
+doleful tone and greatly enjoying his nonsense.
+
+“Well, bless my soul. If there isn’t the very first valentine I
+ever sent to your grandmother when she was a little girl. Gracious,
+Elizabeth,”--speaking to Grandma,--“to think that you have kept it all
+these years.”
+
+“Of course I have,” Grandmother returned spiritedly. “It was painted on
+white silk, and so I could easily sew it in my memory-quilt.”
+
+The children hung entranced over the faded silk valentine, where two
+clasped hands were painted above a wreath of forget-me-nots, with the
+rhyme,
+
+  “Through rain, through snow, through sun and shine,
+  Sweet Valentine, will you be mine?”
+
+in tarnished gold letters beneath.
+
+“Oh, do go on and tell us about when you met Grandma,” reminded
+Wiggles, giving him an impatient nudge. “It’s just like a story-book.”
+
+“Yes, and my fever is rising rapidly from the excitement of _not_
+hearing,” laughed Jeannette.
+
+“Dear me, if that’s the case, I’d better start at once. It wasn’t what
+you might call a regular introduction, when I first met your grandma,”
+said Grandfather, with a reluctant grin tugging at the corners of his
+mouth; “and it wasn’t the first time I had seen her and admired her
+either, although I didn’t know her to speak to.”
+
+“Indeed it wasn’t,” retorted Grandma serenely. “You were always
+standing on your head, and turning somersaults, to make me look at you
+when I was anywhere around; and acting up and showing off in all kinds
+of silly ways.”
+
+“Grandpa! Showing off, and ‘acting silly,’--imagine!” murmured Wiggles,
+patting his hand. “Do go on, Grandpa,--we’re listening.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWELVE
+
+GRANDPA TELLS A STORY
+
+
+“I first saw Elizabeth Little in school,” started Grandfather.
+
+“_Who_ was Elizabeth Little?” inquired Wiggles, much puzzled.
+
+“There’s Elizabeth Little Carr, sitting over by the window knitting
+Cubby a sweater,” explained Grandfather Carr, nodding toward pretty
+Grandmother. “She wasn’t Mrs. Carr until after I persuaded her to marry
+me, which was many years later, for when I first saw her she was just
+a little schoolgirl. I thought ‘Little’ was exactly the right name
+for her, for she was the tiniest little flaxen-haired sprite you can
+imagine, with big blue eyes and two long flaxen pigtails always tied
+with big, perky, blue-ribbon bows.”
+
+“Did _you_ have flaxen hair, Grandma, when you were a schoolgirl?”
+asked Jeannette much astonished.
+
+“Yes, indeed, Jet. My hair was very light until I had typhoid fever
+when Aunt Elsie was a baby, and had to have it shaved. Then it came
+out much darker,” replied Grandma, whose hair was nearly the color of
+Jeannette’s.
+
+“Although I knew her name, I hadn’t the slightest idea where my little
+girl lived,” continued Grandfather, “until one afternoon, after school,
+there was a fire in the neighborhood and I went galloping around the
+corner and down Becker Street, which was just one block from Center
+Avenue where I lived, and you can imagine my surprise to see Elizabeth,
+in her blue dress and bows, standing on one of the front stoops
+watching the fire-engines go by. I was so astonished to find that she
+lived so near me, that I stopped short and stared at her, and then
+blurted out, ‘So this is where you live.’”
+
+“And _what_ do you suppose was the very first thing he asked me?”
+questioned Grandma, laughing at the recollection.
+
+“What?” demanded the children breathlessly.
+
+“He said, ‘Is your father a Republican or a Democrat?’”
+
+“Oh, Grandpa, how funny!”
+
+“After that,” went on Grandfather Carr, “I always went to school the
+longest way round, so as to pass Elizabeth’s house, although she lived
+a block farther away from the school than I did; and I used to spend
+many an hour climbing over her father’s high back fence, and hooking
+apples, cherries, and peaches from their fruit-trees in hopes I would
+see ‘my tow-headed girl,’ as I called her, playing in the garden.”
+
+“And when he did,” added Grandma with relish, “he used to do all kinds
+of foolish tricks, ‘showing off’ so that I would look at him.”
+
+“Mandy had been cook for Mrs. Little--Elizabeth’s mother, and your
+great-grandmother, children--for a year or so then, and, though only
+a very young girl, she was just as fat as she is now, and I used to
+be deathly afraid of her when she swept out of the back door and
+threatened to give me ‘one powahful lickin’’ with her big shoe if I
+didn’t quit climbing ‘her’ back fence,--although Mr. and Mrs. Little
+didn’t object at all. Mandy’s mother had been a slave, and Mandy had
+fourteen ‘first’ names; and she told Mrs. Little, when she was engaged
+as cook, that her name was ‘Pinkie-Rosie Amanda Virginia Magdalene
+Mary Martha Petunia Caroline Lillian Marguerite Veronica Rebecca
+Camilla--Jones,’ but she always was called ‘Pinkie-Rosie.’ Mrs. Little
+stood aghast before the flood of names, and as her sense of humor would
+never permit her to call a two-hundred-pound darky ‘Pinkie-Rosie,’ she
+chose ‘Amanda,’ which came next in line, and ‘Mandy’ she has always
+remained.
+
+“Mandy always wore a bright bandanna handkerchief around her head
+like a turban, as you know she does to this day, and, in addition,
+gold beads about her throat, and huge hoop ear-rings that showed off
+beautifully against her dark skin. She certainly was a fearful and
+wonderful sight when she waddled out in the yard with a broom in her
+hand.”
+
+“A more faithful servant never lived,” laughed Grandmother, “but she
+certainly was feared by most of the neighborhood boys, for that broom
+was a formidable weapon, and she could use it with a will.”
+
+“Indeed, she could,” agreed Grandfather vigorously. “I was eleven and
+Elizabeth was eight when I first knew her,” he resumed.
+
+“Just about my age,” volunteered Wiggles. “Did you feel in your bones
+that some day he was going to be your husband, Grandma?”
+
+“Of course not, child. But I always admired his curly hair and rosy
+cheeks.”
+
+“Now Elizabeth had a very odd elderly great-aunt named Mary, who
+used to visit the Littles every spring,” continued Grandpa with much
+enjoyment. “Out in the big back yard was a wash-house, a small low shed
+where Mandy did the laundry work; and about the shed Elizabeth had a
+very pretty bed of posies that she tended herself. She was very proud
+of those posies, and had the garden outlined with white clam-shells, so
+it was most attractive, though I suppose it would look very queer to
+you children of to-day. Aunt Mary had the oddest notions about flowers,
+and always declared that they should be watered with boiling-hot water
+to make them grow quickly; and, of course, the hot water she insisted
+on putting on them killed Elizabeth’s blossoms every spring and made
+her most indignant. So after I knew Elizabeth, she and I used to
+trot busily up and down the ladder leading to the flat roof of the
+wash-house, carrying all her flowers up there in pots, every time that
+Aunt Mary was due to make a visit. We knew she would never dare climb
+up that rickety ladder to get at them. Then Elizabeth and her sister
+Louise, who is now Billy and Dick’s grandmother, would take their
+china-doll babies there, too, and pull the ladder up after them, while
+Aunt Mary called, ‘Come down, little dears, and bring your flowers for
+me to see,’ from below.”
+
+“We simply _lived_ on that shed-roof while Aunt Mary was at the house,”
+put in Grandmother. “It made an ideal play-house, for it was cool and
+shady, as it was surrounded with all kinds of fruit-trees. Many a
+picnic lunch we enjoyed up there with our china dolls.”
+
+“Do you remember the time you had the whooping-cough?” chuckled
+Grandfather.
+
+“Oh, tell us,” pleaded the small granddaughters expectantly.
+
+“Elizabeth and Lou, as we called Louise, had whooping-cough at the
+same time, as they were so near of an age that they were inseparable,
+like you and Jet,” explained Grandpa, pinching Wiggles cheek. “One day
+before the ‘whoops’ had developed, and no one knew that the girls had
+it, although they were not feeling well, Aunt Mary, unknown to their
+mother, gave them each an enormous slice of blackberry pie. In about
+half an hour they were the sickest little girls you would want to see.
+
+“‘Them chilluns has black diphtheria and is gwine ter die,’ Mandy
+moaned, waddling around wringing her hands, for the youngsters were a
+terrible sight, with black juice dripping down their clothes and big
+dark rings around their mouths.
+
+“‘Run for a doctor, Mandy,’ said Mrs. Little, terribly frightened by
+the unexplained black mouths.
+
+“‘No, no, it’s not black ‘theria,’ Elizabeth gasped suddenly, letting
+out a regular war-whoop that she had been trying to repress. ‘It’s
+black--blackberry pie instead!’”
+
+“Why _Grandma_, I think you must have been just as awful a child as I
+am, maybe awfuller,” said Wiggles delightedly.
+
+“Oh, I wasn’t the only one that got in mischief,” rejoined Grandma
+briskly. “Why don’t you tell about some of your _own_ escapades, David?
+Your experience in the wash-house, for instance.”
+
+“I hate to have my granddaughters realize what a bad boy I used to be,”
+explained Grandpa solemnly, tweaking Wiggles’ curls.
+
+“We’ll promise to overlook it, honestly,” she replied mischievously.
+“Come, ’fess up.”
+
+“Well, it was one morning during summer vacation, when this happened.
+Elizabeth and Lou were busily playing dolls up on the shed-roof, and
+Mandy was washing inside, when I quietly shinned up the ladder. I had
+every intention of being good,--and Elizabeth was the one that first
+put the mischievous idea in my mind,” went on Grandpa.
+
+“Oh, I never, David,” protested Grandmother. “You suggested it your own
+self.”
+
+“No, _ma’am_,” Grandpa stoutly denied. “You said, ‘I wish we had a
+little tub up here so that we could wash our dolls’ clothes, for it
+would be such a fine place to dry them here in the sun’; and then you
+looked at me from under your lashes, and Lou kind of gave a little
+snicker, as much as to say, ‘Bet you don’t dare.’
+
+“Mandy had just gone into the kitchen for some extra clothes-pins, and
+I had a sudden inspiration. There was a small-sized wash-tub in the
+shed, as I knew. It was just the right size for dolls’ duds, I thought,
+but I was too lazy to carry that heavy thing up the tipsy ladder. I
+thought how much easier it would be if I could pull it up some way with
+ropes, and how astonished the girls would be at my cleverness.”
+
+“Showing off, you see,” smiled Grandma.
+
+“Yes, I guess I was,” admitted Grandpa with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+“So while Mandy was out of the way, I sneaked down and filled the
+little tub with suds from her big wash-tub, took down her good
+clothes-line and put through the handles, then brought the ends of the
+line up on the roof with a big hook, and, clambering back on the roof,
+pulled briskly away. I felt pretty pleased with myself as the tub left
+the ground and rose higher and higher. Mandy, hearing our excited
+voices and giggles, became suspicious that there was mischief afoot,
+and rolled out in the yard just in time to see the tub dangling above
+her head. She let out a roar of wrath that made me quake. I declare
+I didn’t tip it over purposely, but some way, in my haste, the ropes
+pulled unevenly, and that whole tub of soapy water turned upside down
+in mid-air and showered down on her red-bandanna turban and calico
+dress, until she was drenched.
+
+“‘You good-fer-nothin’ limb o’ Satan,’ she yelled, giving a yank to her
+clothes-line, and, before I knew what was happening, clothes-line, tub,
+and I went down in a heap together, landing on the ground at her feet.
+
+“I didn’t have a chance to escape,” laughed Grandpa, “for in a second
+she had me by my collar and carried me into that shed like a baby, and
+soused me up and down in the big wash-tub till I yelled for mercy. But
+the funniest part of it was, that after that punishment she was my
+firm friend forever, and would call me into her kitchen and feed me
+cookies and doughnuts every time I came over. And, as you know, Mandy
+surely can cook.”
+
+“What did your mother say when you went home all wet and soapy?”
+giggled Jeannette, much entertained.
+
+“That was the saddest part of all,” chuckled Grandpa, “for, in spite
+of my forlorn appearance, she didn’t seem to think I had been punished
+nearly enough, and gave me a good hard trouncing that I remembered for
+many a long day. And for a long, long time after that, I was very wary
+of Mandy, remembering her strong right arm.”
+
+“I must ask Mandy to wear the beads and ear-rings some time,” said
+Wiggles, “for I would love to see how they would look with her turban.”
+
+“And this piece of necktie in the story-quilt was from the one you had
+on when you first met Grandma, wasn’t it? Did she cut it off right
+then?”
+
+“Oh, goodness, no, Jeannette. But it was very fashionable for all
+the little girls in those days, and the bigger ones, too, to ask the
+boys and young men they knew to save the ends of their neckties for
+making into quilts. Quiltmaking was as popular then as embroidery is
+to-day, and on some of the big pieces of silk and satin you can see the
+sprays of flowers that have been embroidered. See, here’s a wreath of
+apple-blossoms on this pale-blue satin square, and water-lilies on this
+light green triangle. The silks are going in ribbons, and it’s really
+the embroideries that are holding them together.”
+
+“I must ask Lou to show you her quilt some day when we are over to see
+Billy and Dick,” added Grandma. “Her quilt is much handsomer than mine,
+as it is made entirely from big squares of satin or silk, and every
+piece is worked with a floral spray. She has golden-rod on the yellow
+square, black-eyed susan on the orange, forget-me-nots on the blue, and
+roses on the pink. I remember it was exhibited when she finished it,
+and won a prize, of which she was very proud. I shouldn’t be surprised
+if embroidered-silk patchwork came into style again sometime.”
+
+“Tell us,--” began Wiggles, but Grandfather Carr hastily arose.
+
+“Now, no more tales of my misdeeds,” he firmly declared, “for if I tell
+you any more of my naughty doings, you won’t have any respect left for
+my few remaining gray hairs. Besides, I am sure I hear Marion and Alice
+downstairs, and, without doubt, they want to see how you invalids are
+coming along.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTEEN
+
+THE ENCHANTED PALACE WAKES
+
+
+Any one would have thought, to hear the rapturous greetings, that
+the friends had been separated for months instead of days, for they
+chattered like magpies, as each one tried to tell everything that had
+happened since they had last been together.
+
+“Miss Helen showed us the May-baskets at assembly this morning, and
+told us all about your adventure. What a dreadful time you had. Weren’t
+you terribly frightened? I know I would have been scared to death,
+for it was the worst storm I ever heard,” said Marion, settling down
+comfortably on the foot of the big bed and examining the story-quilt
+with interest. “The whole school is so interested, and no one talks
+about anything else but that and the May Frolic. Did you know that
+two miles down the road there was a regular baby cyclone, and a whole
+orchard was pulled up by the roots? The trees look as if a giant had
+flung them about, and it’s too bad, for they are covered with buds.”
+
+“One farmhouse has fourteen panes of glass broken, and there’s not a
+flag-pole anywhere near that hasn’t been struck,” put in Alice eagerly,
+smoothing her blue gingham dress so that Boots could curl down in her
+lap for a doze. “The flag-pole at school is all in splinters, and I
+brought you a big piece as a souvenir of the storm. Gabriel climbed up
+the pole at recess and got a big piece that no one else could reach.
+He said he hoped you’d be at school soon, and if you wanted any more
+pieces of the flag-pole, just to let him know.”
+
+“Well, it was very nice of Gabriel, but I really think this piece is
+enough,” said Wiggles hastily, viewing very doubtfully the huge chunk
+of wood that Alice produced, and privately wondering where she could
+keep it.
+
+“I told him that if he sent any more, he might as well send you the
+whole flag-pole and be done with it,” giggled Marion.
+
+“Gabriel is the boy that sits back of you at school, isn’t he,
+Woggsie?” asked Mrs. Eaton, much amused at the souvenir. “I remember
+meeting him down-town one day, and he gave you the turtle that you have
+in your aquarium.”
+
+“Yes, he’s a nice boy, but just crazy over all kinds of squirmy
+things,” replied Jeannette with a look of distaste. “He brings the most
+wonderful wild flowers and rare mosses to school and knows just where
+they all grow. He knows all about mushrooms, too, and is fascinated by
+everything he sees in the woods or fields. I never saw such a boy. But
+he will carry around such _queer_ things in his pockets.”
+
+“Why, he knows the greatest lot about all kinds of strange things that
+the teacher calls ‘wood-lore,’” continued Alice, patting Boots, who
+purred like a teakettle. “He can tell you all about butterflies, and
+birds, and ants. And I never saw such lovely odd flowers as he finds in
+the woods. Oh, that reminds me. Did you know that the old coffee-mill
+in the clearing was struck by lightning, too, and burned right down to
+the ground?”
+
+Jet and Wiggles looked at each other with startled eyes. To think the
+coffee-mill, that had been their refuge, was gone. What if it had been
+struck while they were in it?
+
+Mrs. Eaton shivered, and, to change the subject, for she saw how white
+the children grew when they heard this news, the basket-patterns were
+produced, and the lovely crêpe and tissue papers were exhibited to the
+interested girls.
+
+Then Grandmother Carr brought scissors and paste, and, wrapping the
+invalids carefully in their bathrobes, she fixed them comfortably at
+the big sewing-table by the window, where all four friends tried their
+skill at making May-baskets.
+
+“Gabriel says he is going to vote for Wiggles for Queen, and I am,
+too,” confided Alice, as she pasted pink petals to a basket she was
+making into a huge rosy chrysanthemum.
+
+“Oh, Jet would be a much better Queen than I,” exclaimed Wiggles
+earnestly, smearing paste all over her hands in her excitement. “Why, I
+couldn’t be ‘haunty’ no matter how hard I tried.” She meant “haughty.”
+“Queens have to be just as proper as proper, and I never could be in
+the world.”
+
+“The Queen in ‘Alice in Wonderland’ wasn’t proper,” protested Jet,
+cutting out daisy petals. “Don’t you remember how she yelled, ‘Off with
+their heads!’ all the while? What _are_ you making, Marion?”
+
+Marion giggled as she held up her basket, shaped like a head of
+lettuce, to which she was just adding the last crinkly leaves.
+
+“It’s a joke on Hugh,” she explained calmly, as she twisted the pale
+green leaves into shape. “Grandfather gave me the idea, so I thought
+I’d make the basket while I was here. I’m going to fill this head of
+lettuce with vegetables and hang it as a May-basket for him, with a
+funny rhyme, ’cause he was a mean thing and wouldn’t show me the basket
+I found out he was making for Jeannette. He’d be furious if he knew I
+told you, and he’ll be mad as hops when he sees this, ’cause he loves
+to call me ‘Carrots,’”--with a toss of her tawny mane--“but says his
+own hair is auburn.” She accented the last word with such a disdainful
+sniff that the other girls giggled.
+
+“What is the rhyme?” asked Alice.
+
+“I’m going to put a bunch of radishes, a turnip, and some beets inside,
+and this rhyme:
+
+  “‘Although your nose is turnip,
+  And your hair a radish Hugh (reddish hue),
+  Still lettuce send this token,
+  As our heart still beets for you.’”
+
+“Won’t he be mad?” chuckled Polly Wiggles, “’specially about that
+‘reddish hue.’”
+
+“Grandfather helped me write it last night, and said it would be a good
+way to tease him back for all the jokes he makes about me. I could
+hardly wait until to-day to make the basket. This shade of green is
+just right for the lettuce, and doesn’t it look natural? If you’ll give
+me a hat-pin, I’ll help curl your chrysanthemum petals for you, Alice.”
+
+“Here’s one on Grandma’s bureau,” said Wiggles. “What do you do with
+it?”
+
+“You want to put each petal on the table and rub the head of the pin
+real hard against it. It gives it a crinkly look and curls the petal. I
+learned how when the Ladies’ Aid had a big tea, for they decorated with
+hundreds of yellow chrysanthemums, and I helped make them. The room
+looked beautiful.”
+
+“I should think it would have been lovely. It’s a splendid idea,
+Marion,” enthused Jeannette, who found it worked beautifully with
+her second basket, a big red rose. “Don’t you like this daisy basket
+Wiggles and I just finished for Mother? I was so glad that she went
+downstairs, for it gave us a chance to make it. We’re going to make a
+lilac basket for Grandma next.”
+
+“It certainly is pretty,” returned Alice, examining the dainty
+yellow-and-white basket with pleasure. “It was a good idea, making the
+basket itself a deep yellow, and then adding the big white petals.
+Won’t it be fun, on May morning, to scurry around and hang them on the
+door-knobs? Of course it won’t really be May Day, but the day of the
+frolic instead. I think it’s lots more exciting than Valentine’s day,
+and I do hope we’ll do it every year. Who do you suppose will be May
+Queen?”
+
+“I think one of the older girls will get the most votes, don’t you?”
+asked Jeannette.
+
+“You never can tell,” said Marion wisely.
+
+“Jane Juggins is positive that she will be chosen, and gives herself as
+many airs and graces as if she had been crowned already. She makes me
+sick. She said this noon that she was the only real blonde in school,
+and that therefore she’d look best as Queen, and that she was going to
+have a real satin and chiffon dress with a _train_ if she was selected.”
+
+“Well, I hope to goodness sake she won’t be,” broke in Alice decidedly.
+“Of course she is older, and mighty sure of herself, but I don’t think
+she’s so very popular.”
+
+“Dear me,” said Wiggles, rumpling her curls, “won’t it be thrilling to
+have the names of King and Queen read out before the whole school, and
+then see them go up to the platform and select their attendants? I can
+just imagine how shivery and excited they will feel, can’t you?”
+
+“I don’t care who is Queen, as long as Jane Juggins isn’t,” sniffed
+Marion. “She called after me this morning, ‘Well, Red-Head, you won’t
+have to worry about being Queen or Maid of Honor. Your hair’s so fiery
+it would set fire to the Maypole!’”
+
+“The horrid creature!” snorted Wiggles wrathfully, “when every
+one thinks your hair is stunning, and lots prettier than that
+molasses-taffy color of hers. I wish I’d been there.”
+
+Alice dropped her chrysanthemum and scissors, and opened her
+black-fringed blue eyes wide at the interesting news she was about to
+impart.
+
+“What _do_ you s’pose?” she demanded breathlessly. “I have some news,
+and I almost forgot to tell you.” She paused impressively, with a true
+sense of the dramatic, and looked from one interested face to another.
+
+“Yes, yes; go on,” they chorused eagerly.
+
+“Well, White Birches has been opened, and the people are going to live
+there every summer. Their name is MacAllister and they have one son,
+and-- Oh, my goodness, girls,” with a squeal of excitement, “there he
+is now!”
+
+Four eager faces leaned toward the windows as a handsome dark-eyed boy
+on a beautiful white pony, followed by a big white collie dog, dashed
+up the driveway of White Birches.
+
+“Oh, oh, _oh_, that lovely pony,” sighed Wiggles rapturously. “Did you
+ever see such a darling in all your life? Isn’t it a picture under that
+arch of birch-trees, with that snowy dog capering along behind? Just
+look!”
+
+May-baskets were forgotten as they watched the graceful lad race up and
+down the paths, followed by the excited dog.
+
+“Maybe,” said Wiggles hopefully, with visions of riding on that
+entrancing pony in her mind,--“maybe he has a sister, about your age.”
+
+“Well, maybe he hasn’t,” returned Alice disconsolately, “’cause Mother
+said that there was _one_ child, a son. Isn’t it a shame? They just
+came yesterday, and have lived abroad for several years.”
+
+“If _only_ he had been a girl,” sighed Wiggles sadly. “What good times
+we all could have had together. We could have played dolls in those
+dear little rustic summer-houses----”
+
+“And gone boating on Willow Lake,” put in Jeannette glumly.
+
+“And ridden on that darling pony,” added Alice. “But boys are
+so--so----”
+
+“Not ’xactly disgustable, but--well, uninteresting,” bemoaned Polly
+Wiggles with a toss of her black mop of curls. “Wouldn’t it have been
+gorgeous if he had been a twin?”
+
+“I should say it would,” agreed Jet, looking very downhearted.
+
+“With a beautiful dark-eyed sister named Jacqueline,” continued Wiggles
+dreamily. “You know we _always_ thought the ‘Enchanted Palace,’ as
+we called it, would belong to a dark-eyed Prince Charming, who would
+appear on a snow-white charger, and quaff three times from the water of
+Willow Lake, and the Palace would wake to life.”
+
+“Well, there’s your dark-eyed Prince on his white charger. What more do
+you want?” demanded Alice calmly, motioning toward the lad on the white
+pony. “Goodness, you can’t complain when your fancies come true like
+that. I think it’s perfectly thrilling that your Prince appeared just
+as you pretended.”
+
+“Don’t say ‘my Prince,’ as if he belonged to me. You all pretended
+about him, too. And he’s not a Prince anyway, he’s only an everyday
+boy,” sniffed Wiggles.
+
+“Not exactly an _everyday_ boy,” disagreed Marion. “He’s not an
+everyday boy like my brother, Hugh, for instance,--any boy that owns
+a snow-white dog and pony, and has been abroad, and lives in such a
+gorgeous place!”
+
+“And he certainly is dark-eyed, and he’s riding a white charger,”
+volunteered Jeannette, wide-eyed at the coincidence.
+
+“That’s not a charger,--it’s a rather fat white pony,” Wiggles
+corrected, gazing critically at the good-looking lad. “Yes-s, I admit
+his eyes _are_ dark, I can see that from here. But he hasn’t taken a
+drink from Willow Lake, and he isn’t a really grown-up Prince----”
+
+“Give him time, give him time,” murmured Alice absently. “Remember that
+a Prince can always grow up,--but he can’t grow down; and he’s older
+than we are, anyway. Oh, will you look!”
+
+There was no need to ask them to look. Four pairs of eyes stared
+unwinkingly, for, as if Wiggles’ remark had been a signal, the boy,
+unconscious of the interest he was causing, had jumped from his
+pony and sauntered down to the edge of the lake. He was warm from
+his trot about the grounds, that was certain, for he shook back his
+thick chestnut-colored hair, and fanned himself vigorously with his
+handkerchief. Then, as the girls stood rigid with excitement, he
+stooped to the edge of the water, and, cupping his hands together,
+drank three times from Willow Lake.
+
+As if indeed the dreamy spell that had hung over the place so long had
+been broken, a big limousine, driven by a colored chauffeur, rolled
+up the driveway, and the front door of the house opened to disclose a
+pleasant-faced lady, who hastened down the steps, and then paused to
+speak to a groom, who appeared to lead away the white pony.
+
+“I’m ready, Donald,” she called, and the boy hurried toward her,
+gallantly assisting her into the car, and then bundling himself and the
+big collie in as well.
+
+“His name is Donald MacAllister. Isn’t that an attractive name?” asked
+Alice approvingly, as the car disappeared down the road.
+
+“He looks as if he were nice and full of fun,” added Marion, “but
+wasn’t it odd that the whole place _did_ come to life just as he drank
+from Willow Lake? I felt just as if I were looking at a play.”
+
+“Every single thing turned out just as we pretended, except the
+sister,” declared Jeannette in an awed voice, “and we can’t expect
+everything. It’s just like a fairy-tale come true.”
+
+“Well, I know one thing I can expect if I don’t skip for home,” laughed
+Marion with a glance at the clock. “Seems as if that clock must be
+telling fibs, but I don’t suppose it is. The afternoon has just flown,
+and it’s six o’clock already, and I’ll get a scolding if I don’t
+practise an hour.”
+
+“Do tell us all about the Enchanted Palace,” pleaded Alice, gathering
+together her materials. “Maybe there is a fairy godmother to appear
+yet. And, talking about appearances, here comes----”
+
+“Gruel,” put in Grandfather Carr mischievously, as he appeared with a
+dainty tray for two.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FOURTEEN
+
+AN OLD FRIENDSHIP RENEWED
+
+
+“Watch me turn a cart-wheel,” shrieked Wiggles, flashing down the
+veranda steps and turning cart-wheels so rapidly down the path to where
+the three other girls were waiting for her by the gate, that it made
+them dizzy to look at her.
+
+“There,” she puffed triumphantly, coming up rosy and breathless and
+shaking back a mop of tumbled black curls, “I feel better now that I’ve
+let off steam. That’s to prove that I’m not an invalid any more. Won’t
+it seem nice to be back at school again, Jet?”
+
+“Look how you’ve tumbled your clean dress,” reproved Jeannette, looking
+her sister over critically. “Mother wouldn’t like you to act like
+that, anyway,--it isn’t ladylike.” Jeannette was fond on occasions of
+adopting an elder-sister tone.
+
+“Well, who wants to be a lady?” returned Wiggles, tossing her curls and
+casting a quick glance at her crisp linen frock. “I don’t, I’m sure.
+When I get so old that I can’t jump around or climb fences or wade in
+brooks or do anything that’s fun at all, then I’ll have lots and lots
+of time left over in which to be ladylike; and, oh, won’t I hate it!”
+
+On the green lawn opposite, the handsome lad astride the white pony
+had sat up with interest and an alert look in his dark eyes, as the
+mischievous Wiggles went whirling down the path.
+
+“That’s some girl,” he told the white pony, and his eyes rested with
+approval on the glistening black curls of the small maiden who was
+waiting impatiently while her hair-ribbon was more securely anchored,
+and Jeannette straightened the belt of her dress.
+
+“I _never_ saw a girl in France or Spain or Japan or England or any
+other place turn cart-wheels like that,” Donald MacAllister confided
+to the pony, who tossed its head impatiently at being held in check.
+“American girls beat them all, that’s sure. You know, I’d like to know
+that girl, and those boys that I saw over there yesterday. It’s awfully
+lonesome not knowing any one around, isn’t it, Snow Queen? Come on,
+let’s do some tricks.”
+
+Over the stone wall went the pony, guided by Donald’s capable hands,
+and the four children opposite watched with interest as the sturdy boy
+put the pretty animal through all kinds of tricks. Finally he jumped
+erect, and balancing himself on Snow Queen’s back as she trotted
+along, he carelessly reached up and plucked a spray of leaves from the
+branches overhead.
+
+“Oh, oh, look at that!” breathed three of the girls in admiration,
+watching the good-looking lad with round-eyed amazement.
+
+“Pooh--showing off,” said Wiggles coolly, tossing her curls and
+glancing from the corner of her eyes as Donald easily lowered himself
+into the saddle and jumped back over the stone wall again. “Thought you
+were all in such a dreadful hurry. I’ll race you to the brook.” And in
+a second all four girls were off, leaving the boy looking after them
+with wistful eyes.
+
+“What’s the matter, Donald?” asked a laughing voice behind him, and
+he turned with a smile to greet the slim brown-haired lady who was
+strolling over the lawn toward him.
+
+“Just wishing I knew some of the boys and girls around here,” he
+replied, dismounting as he spoke, and tucking his arm through his
+mother’s with a lordly air that was most amusing.
+
+“Well, Don, I’m sure you’ll soon get acquainted. It’s been many, many
+years since I was last in Meadowbrook,” she continued with a slight
+sigh, “but I am sure that some of my old friends must still live around
+here, and I know that you’ll enjoy having a real home and playmates at
+last.”
+
+“Yesterday I saw some bully-looking boys, and this morning a girl that
+turned cart-wheels like lightning, over there,” Donald responded with
+animation, motioning toward The Lilacs. “Do you know who lives there?”
+
+“Not any more. When I was a girl--” began Mrs. MacAllister, only to
+break off and look with startled eyes at the figure that appeared on
+the lawn opposite. “Can I believe my own eyes?” she gasped, as Mrs.
+Carr, carrying scissors and a large basket, and intent on gathering
+bouquets for the house, came into view, with Boots following at her
+heels.
+
+“I do believe that The Lilacs has never been sold, and that our old
+friends, the Carrs, are still living there. How I hope so! It will make
+my home-coming very happy if Jean and Elsie still live opposite. I
+heard that Jean married a doctor.”
+
+With a graceful gesture very much like her son’s, she caught interested
+Donald by the hand and hastened across the road to where Grandmother
+Carr was busily snipping lilac blossoms.
+
+“Marie Deering!” cried Mrs. Carr, dropping lilacs, basket and all, and
+seizing Mrs. MacAllister’s outstretched hands. “Can it be you who have
+come back to White Birches after all these years?”
+
+“Indeed, it is, dear Mrs. Carr,” returned Donald’s mother, smiling,
+“only I’m Marie MacAllister now, and this is my son, Donald.”
+
+She pulled forward the brown-eyed boy as she spoke, who bowed with an
+easy grace most engaging, and then stooped to recover the basket and
+tumbled lilac-sprays.
+
+“You see,” Mrs. MacAllister continued eagerly, “I’ve always wanted
+really to settle down in my childhood home, so White Birches has become
+my own again, and I only hope that I am in America to stay.”
+
+“Then you have been living abroad?” questioned Mrs. Carr, smiling at
+Donald, who returned the smile with interest.
+
+“Yes. White Birches was sold right after my parents died so suddenly,”
+explained Mrs. MacAllister. “Two years later I met Douglas MacAllister,
+and married him, and ever since we have roamed over the world, so that
+my poor Donald has lived in his own land less than in any other. For
+the past two years we have been in England, and at last I am happy to
+say that my husband’s business has brought him back to our own country,
+and here we intend to remain.”
+
+“We heard that an English widow had bought White Birches,” said
+Grandmother Carr, looking much relieved.
+
+Mrs. MacAllister gave a low laugh. “That’s the way gossip confused
+things,” she responded gayly. “Mr. MacAllister will not be here for
+another six weeks, and we are still spending most of our time between
+Meadowbrook and New York, for the place was badly in need of repairs
+before we could move in, but another few days will find us entirely
+settled, and then I want you surely to come over and bring Elsie
+and Jean and your little granddaughters, so that my boy may become
+acquainted. How I shall enjoy renewing my friendship with Jean. My poor
+boy has never lived long enough in one land to know what a real chum is
+like, and now I hope to give him all he has missed in these years of
+travel.”
+
+“Then it is your beautiful white pony that the children have been
+talking about,” Mrs. Carr said with a smile at Donald, who gave her a
+merry glance.
+
+“Yes, that is Snow Queen,” he replied, “and I have another just like
+her, called ‘White Beauty.’ I’d love to have the girls ride on them
+any time they would like. They are very gentle,” he continued hastily,
+“and wouldn’t hurt them at all.”
+
+“I know that they would be more than pleased,” replied Grandmother
+Carr, “and it is very kind of you, for both children are fond of
+riding.”
+
+“Is the little girl with black curls your granddaughter?” asked Donald
+with interest.
+
+“Yes, that’s Wiggles,--I should say Elizabeth,” laughed Mrs. Carr, “but
+‘Wiggles’ so expresses her love of perpetual motion that she is called
+it most of the time.”
+
+“I noticed her this morning,” returned Mrs. MacAllister, “and thought
+what a captivating little mischief she was. To think that she is Jean’s
+daughter!”
+
+“Jeannette is Wiggles’ older sister, and the two other girls are their
+inseparable companions, Marion West and Alice Maxfield,” added Mrs.
+Carr. “I don’t believe you have seen Cubby as yet. She is the baby of
+the family, and her real name is Evelyn.”
+
+“And the boys that I saw yesterday afternoon, who were they?” put in
+Donald eagerly.
+
+“They are Jeannette’s and Elizabeth’s cousins, Billy and Dick Gerard,
+and are fine manly boys, just bubbling over with mischief. The boy
+with dark-red hair is Marion’s brother, Hugh West. I’m sure you will
+like them all, and have many good times together after you become
+acquainted.”
+
+“Couldn’t you and Jean and Elsie bring the little girls over to see us
+some afternoon next week?” asked Mrs. MacAllister. “Any day that suits
+you will be convenient for me.”
+
+“Please do,” begged Donald.
+
+“We should love to,” responded Grandmother Carr, smiling into the
+pleading dark eyes that begged her to say “yes,” so beseechingly. “I
+can’t promise which day it will be, but if it is satisfactory to you,
+we will just run in informally.”
+
+“Any day you like. I so anticipate seeing you all again and having an
+old time powwow. We have many years to make up, you know,” laughed
+Mrs. MacAllister. “Come, Don. If we are going into town to see the
+decorators, we shall have to hurry. Good-by, Mrs. Carr. Please remember
+me to Jean and Elsie, and don’t forget your promise to run in.”
+
+“And bring Dick and Billy, too, if they can come,” called back Donald.
+
+Mrs. Carr returned to her flower-gathering in a contented frame of mind.
+
+Marie Deering and Jean Carr had been intimate friends in their
+childhood days, long before Jean had married Dr. Eaton, or Marie had
+become Mrs. MacAllister, and she knew how pleasant the revival of
+friendship would be to them all; while gallant, sturdy Donald had
+greatly appealed to her, and would be a pleasant companion for the
+children. She could easily imagine the many good times they would have
+together; and, picking up her basket of blossoms in one hand, and Boots
+in the other, she hurried into the house to tell the good news.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER FIFTEEN
+
+GABRIEL’S SURPRISE
+
+
+Jeannette’s and Elizabeth’s arrival at school was a regular triumphant
+entry. They were quite the heroines of the hour after the experience
+they had been through, and the pupils were all agog to hear their own
+account of the adventure. Older pupils, who had never before noticed
+their existence, stopped to inquire all about the dreadful storm, and
+offered them fruit and candy.
+
+Naturally the news had spread like wild-fire all through the small
+school. In addition the class-rooms buzzed with May Day plans, and even
+although the boys had pooh-poohed the idea, they were not above showing
+off in anticipation of votes.
+
+It was surprising how rapidly the basket-frames had disappeared. There
+could be no doubt but that the May Frolic would be a success, for the
+children were wildly enthusiastic.
+
+Slips of paper and pencils were given out at assembly, and each pupil
+cast two votes, one for King and one for Queen. Excitement ran high
+when, to the stirring march played on the piano, the classes one by one
+filed past the big desk where Miss Helen sat, and dropped pale-pink
+slips containing the chosen Queen’s name into one big box, and blue
+slips on which were written the King’s name into another. The votes
+were to be counted during the day, and the names of the King and Queen
+of the May would be announced at closing time. It was hard to return to
+the class-rooms and settle down to work.
+
+“Say, Wiggles,” whispered Gabriel from the seat behind hers, “I’ll let
+you see all my spelling if you don’t know yours, and I have something
+to give you at recess,--a surprise for you.”
+
+As Gabriel’s spelling was the worst in the room, Wiggles did not accept
+his offer, but she beamed at the idea of a surprise, and during the
+lessons kept wondering what it could be.
+
+She was nearly overcome with curiosity all through the morning, for
+Gabriel’s black head kept disappearing in his desk, where the surprise
+had been carefully stowed away, in a most tantalizing manner.
+
+To Gabriel’s idea of thinking, no girl in the school could compare with
+Elizabeth. He declared that any girl who could skip rope, and run, and
+walk fences as she did, with the agility of an acrobat, was almost as
+good as a boy; and on his prowls through fields and woods he was always
+collecting rare ferns for her garden, or the first fragrant sprays of
+arbutus, or fragile Indian-pipes, and bringing them to school for her,
+just to see her blue eyes open with amazement, and to hear her say,
+“Oh, isn’t that lovely! Where did you ever find it?”
+
+He swelled with importance as he thought how she would clap her hands
+and spin round on her toes when she beheld the surprise in store for
+her at recess, as he had never before found anything so unusual.
+
+As Gabriel was always bringing surprises, and delightful ones, too,
+Polly Wiggles wondered with a little wriggle of impatience if it could
+be the clump of maiden-hair fern which she had long wanted for her
+rockery. Only the week before he had given her a little birch-bark box,
+beautifully made, and heaped with the first wild strawberries, scarlet
+and tempting, and each one big as her thumb and sweet as honey.
+
+But if Wiggles had known what was to greet her eyes at recess, she
+never would have sat so quietly, or listened so intently to the
+teacher’s words.
+
+Arithmetic and reading went on as usual, and then paper was distributed
+for painting, which was always the first period after recess. Wiggles
+loathed painting, and it always mortified her to see her own finished
+daubs.
+
+Alice was very artistic, and did splendid work in both drawing and
+color work, so she examined with interest the object to be copied, a
+pretty yellow teapot placed on a small table at the front of the room,
+where it was in a good position for all the youthful artists to see.
+
+Alice was monitor of the paint-boxes, and went about importantly
+placing a box and brush at each desk, and tiny glasses of water in
+which to wash the brushes.
+
+At last arithmetic came to an end, and the bell rang for recess, which
+was a twenty-minute period of relaxation for the children, during which
+they might walk about the class-room and talk, or play out-of-doors in
+the big school-yard.
+
+It was such a beautiful day that most of the children bolted for the
+school-yard, Alice among the first, expecting Wiggles to follow, and
+join in a game of Poison Tag, or Illario.
+
+But Wiggles waited with a beating heart to see the surprise.
+
+“I’m so anxious to see it,” she smiled, spinning round in her seat and
+wondering if Gabriel could be making her a May-basket. She knew that
+Dick was weaving two, one for Marion, and one for Alice, and that Hugh
+had already made one for Jeannette, so she was anxious to see if any of
+her friends remembered her as well.
+
+“I got it for you yesterday,” Gabriel beamed, plunging into his desk
+and rummaging about for a tantalizing time. “Look here--isn’t it a
+dandy?”
+
+Now Gabriel had no intention of frightening Wiggles, He was an
+enthusiastic naturalist, and loved all the small creatures that
+inhabited the woods and fields. Wiggles had exclaimed with pleasure
+over a tiny turtle that he had given her, and the thought never entered
+his mind that, like other small girls, she might be afraid of his
+unusual surprise. So with a comical air of triumph he held out to
+her,--not a dainty May-basket, as she half expected, but a wiggling,
+slimy snake.
+
+His big black eyes danced with pleasure as he coiled the creature in
+his hands, to place on Polly Wiggles’ lap.
+
+With an exclamation of fright and disgust, Wiggles sprang away, and
+only with difficulty repressed a shriek, for if there was one thing she
+detested above all others, it was any kind of a snake. Her white and
+horrified face told Gabriel even more than her faltering tongue.
+
+“Oh! oh! oh! Keep it away from me. Don’t let it get _on_ me!” she
+chattered, shivering at the idea.
+
+Gabriel’s face fell.
+
+“I’m sorry, Wiggles,” he mourned, hastily stuffing the snake into his
+desk like a wad of string. “I wouldn’t have scared you for anything,
+but aren’t girls queer to be afraid of a little snake like this? It
+won’t hurt you. Why, Wiggles, it’s most unusual, it’s a----”
+
+“Oh, I don’t care if it’s worth a million dollars,” shuddered Wiggles.
+“It makes me feel creepy just to think of it. How _can_ you handle it?”
+
+“But you handled a turtle,” exclaimed puzzled Gabriel, much surprised
+at the distinction shown. “I meant to give it to you for keeps, in a
+May-basket at first, on May Day, ’cause I thought you’d be kind o’
+pleased.”
+
+“I’m sorry, too, Gabriel,” apologized Polly Wiggles, seeing his
+disappointment, and trying to keep back a shudder. “I honestly did like
+your little turtle ever so much. That was cunning. But _please_ don’t
+hang any snakes, or-or--spiders, or _crawly_ things in a May-basket for
+me, will you? I like flowers and ferns so much better. Let’s--let’s go
+out now, and play tag.”
+
+To tell the truth, Polly Wiggles was decidedly anxious to get as far
+away from the snake as possible.
+
+“Don’t tell teacher,” warned Gabriel, banging down his desk-lid. “She
+might not like it, either, though I can’t see why she should mind my
+having a nice little snake in my desk.”
+
+Still he knew from past experiences that teachers had most peculiar
+ideas about what should and should not be brought to school in a boy’s
+pockets.
+
+“Are you certain-sure that your desk is tight, so it can’t get out?”
+asked Wiggles nervously, seeing in imagination the slimy, slippery
+snake crawling over the back of the desk, and down into her own seat.
+
+“Course it’s tight,” Gabriel replied in disgust. “Didn’t you hear how
+I banged down the lid? You don’t suppose I want that valuable snake
+walking all over the school, do you?”
+
+“Mercy, I should hope not,” shuddered Polly Wiggles in horror.
+
+Now Gabriel honestly believed the desk was tight, and that the prisoner
+was safe inside, but in some way the banging had been too hard, and
+the lid had sprung back a tiny crack, leaving plenty of room for a
+small wriggling snake to crawl through.
+
+Never had the school-yard looked so attractive to Polly Wiggles. The
+idea of “telling teacher” never entered her mind. If Gabriel had
+brought the “surprise” to school with the idea of being unkind and
+frightening her, it would have been different; but she knew that his
+intentions had been good, and she had been brought up to scorn tattling.
+
+Recess passed all too quickly. Unfortunately she had a too-active
+imagination, which made her feel its slippery length coiling around
+her neck, and it was with lagging feet that she left the pleasant
+school-yard, and took her seat for the painting lesson. She felt crawly
+all over. So it was with thankful heart that she heard Miss Mason tell
+her to move her painting things over to the end aisle where the light
+was better.
+
+Gabriel, with all memory of the snake erased from his mind, had been
+sent on an errand into the sixth grade, which was the highest in the
+school, for all older pupils went to the grammar school in Morristown.
+
+Polly Wiggles need not have worried, however, about sitting in her own
+seat, for the active little snake no longer rustled about in the dark
+desk behind her.
+
+It did not take long to move paints and paper over to the other seat,
+and she heaved a sigh of relief as she at last settled her starched
+white skirts, and wet her paint-brush.
+
+In back of her sat the artist of the school, Allan Harrison, who
+was already, with joyful heart, engaged in coloring his beautifully
+sketched teapot a vivid yellow.
+
+Allan’s work was really remarkable, and several of his other sketches
+held place of honor on the bulletin board at the front of the room.
+
+Polly Wiggles glanced over her shoulder at his clever fingers, and
+then, with a sigh of despair, she hopelessly settled herself to the
+hated task.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SIXTEEN
+
+HAIL TO THE KING AND QUEEN OF THE MAY!
+
+
+Polly Wiggles’ work went poorly. Her sketched work looked more like
+an overgrown orange than the teapot for which it was intended. The
+colors ran and blurred on the erased and re-erased work until it was a
+messy, blotchy sight. Over in the next aisle, Alice was lovingly adding
+finishing touches to her nearly completed drawing, and wishing with
+all her heart that painting periods might come far oftener, and that
+arithmetic periods could be skipped altogether.
+
+Polly Wiggles craned her neck to look admiringly at the
+daintily-colored teapot, and wondered despairingly why her own work
+could never stay neat and tidy like Alice’s.
+
+She surveyed her paper in disgust. “It looks like a sunset on a foggy
+day,” she mused, as she tried to smooth the trickling threads of color
+that blurred out in smudgy rays from the squat body of the teapot. “No
+one would guess in a million years that it was s’posed to be a teapot.
+I really think it looks more ‘teapotty’ upside down than it does
+right-way-about. Guess I’ll label it so that Miss Mason will know which
+way to look at it.”
+
+In a neat hand she wrote, “This is a teapot,” and added her name
+beneath in black ink, which unfortunately, mingled with the still wet
+paint, and produced a most peculiar and unwished-for effect.
+
+Allan leaned over her shoulder, to look with unflattering astonishment
+at the completed work of art.
+
+“What _is_ it?” he breathed curiously in Wiggles’ ear, leaning closer
+for a better view.
+
+Polly Wiggles stifled a giggle and pointed silently to the label
+underneath.
+
+“I thought it was a crook-neck squash,” added Allan with more honesty
+than politeness. “Hand it over, and I’ll try to smooth it out for you.”
+
+With a grateful glance, Polly Wiggles cautiously edged the sopping
+piece of paper over the back of her seat, and then, after thoroughly
+cleaning her brushes, settled down to study the next day’s spelling
+lesson.
+
+A few deft strokes from Allan’s magic paint-brush did wonders to the
+“squash,” but he did not dare add too many frills to a work not his
+own. Polly Wiggles accepted it back with joy, and resumed her spelling
+in a more contented frame of mind, while Allan restlessly looked about
+for new worlds to conquer.
+
+He had finished his painting long before, but, lacking anything better
+to do, he aimlessly added a soft blurred background, and wrote “Allan
+Harrison” in a dashing hand below. On an extra sheet of paper he
+started sketching at random, until his alert blue eyes were attracted
+by the beautiful American flag that hung in the front of the room, and
+he hastily set to work to reproduce it with his brush and colors. The
+heavy cream-colored drawing-paper was most unsatisfactory, and refused
+to show the proper white stripes between the vivid red ones. Pad paper
+was even worse, as it was crossed with narrow blue lines, and the
+artist in him sighed for a sheet of plain white on which to work.
+Then suddenly his roving eyes were attracted by the expanse of stiff,
+dazzling-white linen that was the back of Polly Wiggles’ linen frock.
+With fascinated gaze he watched it for a full minute, but with him, to
+think was to act, and, never pausing to consider after-consequences, he
+rubbed his brush briskly across the red paint, and, unhindered by the
+short black curls above, proceeded with an artist’s delight to work on
+this novel easel.
+
+Allan’s deportment marks were usually among the best in the room. He
+was always absorbed during painting periods, so his work continued
+unchecked, for Miss Mason was busily correcting arithmetic papers, and
+he had the last seat in the aisle.
+
+Polly Wiggles, absorbed in her speller, never even felt the deft touch
+on her back, and beneath his nimble, clever fingers the flag grew
+rapidly.
+
+[Illustration: BENEATH HIS NIMBLE, CLEVER FINGERS THE FLAG GREW
+RAPIDLY.--_Page 214._]
+
+Alice put down her paint-brush reluctantly, and jumped to her feet to
+begin gathering together the finished work from the front desks
+of each aisle, where papers were passed when completed, to be laid
+in neat piles for the monitor to collect. It was great fun being a
+monitor and having the privilege of tiptoeing from one end of the room
+to the other, and arranging the drawings on teacher’s desk. Alice
+fluttered about like a busy bee, occasionally buzzing a whisper to some
+particular friend as she removed wet brushes and glasses of water.
+
+Miss Mason looked up with a smile at rosy Alice, who was a great
+favorite of hers. “You may put the teapot on the closet-shelf,” she
+said pleasantly as she accepted the pile of drawings, “and be careful,
+for it is a very fine piece of china, and I should hate to have it
+broken.”
+
+Alice grasped it as gingerly as if she expected it to explode any
+minute, but, in spite of all her care, it was the teapot’s last
+appearance. As she lifted it carefully with both hands, a wicked little
+head with a swiftly darting tongue reared up from the spout, and with
+a startled shriek that could be heard through the entire school, the
+pretty teapot crashed to the floor, and panic-stricken Alice fled to
+the back of the room, where she stood shivering with fright.
+
+In a twinkling the class was in an uproar.
+
+“A snake, a snake!” shrilled frightened girls, clambering on their
+seats and gazing with startled eyes at the small wriggling snake that
+was as frightened as they were.
+
+“Some one of you boys catch it,” ordered Miss Mason hastily. “Quick,
+Allan, head it off. This is some of Gabriel’s doings.”
+
+The door into the corridor opened quietly, and Gabriel entered, his
+errand completed and nothing farther from his mind than the thought of
+his pet’s escape. To tell the truth, he had entirely forgotten bringing
+the snake to school. He stood frozen a moment in the doorway at sight
+of the uproarious class-room. Then, as the meaning of the excitement
+dawned on his puzzled face, his eyes sought Polly Wiggles’ blue ones in
+mute questioning.
+
+Miss Mason surveyed him sternly. “What does this mean?” she questioned
+sharply, rapping for quiet. “Shut that door quickly.--Look out, or it
+will be out in the hall.”
+
+Gabriel slammed the door, plunged hastily across the floor, and
+scrambled to secure his pet, while the class squealed in wild
+excitement.
+
+“You may take that creature outside,--and leave it,” Miss Mason
+ordered, wondering wearily what next the children would do. “Then
+dispose of this broken china, ... and remain after dismissal to-night.”
+
+Gabriel stole quietly from the room with a very red face, to return
+shortly and pass ten uncomfortable minutes on his knees before the
+class as he gathered up in a dust-pan all that remained of the once
+lovely teapot. Evidently the snake had crawled inside and coiled down
+while the children were at recess, for the lid had been off when they
+returned, and Miss Mason had clapped it on, unconsciously making the
+snake a prisoner. And there he had quietly stayed until Alice had
+disturbed his resting-place.
+
+Lessons could not be resumed for quite a while, for it was hard to get
+the wildly excited pupils to come to order, and for snickerings and
+rustlings to calm down. Alice was still shaking from the shock, and
+worrying because she, the monitor of the paint-boxes, had broken the
+teapot. She felt much better after Miss Mason assured her that it was
+not her fault at all.
+
+Gabriel unobtrusively returned with the empty dust-pan and slipped into
+his seat with downcast eyes, his very ears scarlet with mortification.
+
+Every Friday afternoon was poetry afternoon, and four pupils were
+selected each week to learn any poem of not less than twelve lines to
+recite before the class. Poor Gabriel! It certainly was his unlucky
+day, for he despised “elocuting,” as he called it, and, unfortunately,
+his turn came first.
+
+Gabriel’s choice in poetry was most peculiar. The time before he had
+recited a sentimental ballad, with what he considered appropriate
+gestures, so the pupils waited with breathless interest as he
+unwillingly rose from his seat. But they broke out afresh, and even
+Miss Mason had to press a handkerchief to her lips, as he clasped his
+hands before him, raised his eyes toward the ceiling, and gloomily
+chanted with all the pathos he could put into his young voice, the hymn
+starting:
+
+  “Hark from the tombs a doleful sound.”
+
+Much to Miss Mason’s relief, Alice came next, and she was always to be
+depended upon. She had learned “The Children’s Hour,” and recited so
+well that Miss Mason nodded approvingly.
+
+“Very good, indeed, Alice,” she smiled, “and you made an excellent
+selection. Elizabeth, you may copy the first two verses on the
+blackboard.”
+
+Polly Wiggles jumped to her feet eagerly. She loved the poetry
+afternoons, so she started toward the front blackboard entirely
+unconscious of the sensation she was causing. There was a moment of
+electric silence as she picked up her chalk, and then the class broke
+into a perfect gale of laughter, and Miss Mason turned to look with
+astonishment at the beautiful American flag that covered the back of
+Polly Wiggles’ frock from shoulders to waist.
+
+It was a cleverly painted flag, and only one pupil in the school could
+have done it. Scarlet stripes alternated with dazzling white ones,
+while a blue field was liberally sprinkled with stars; but neither Miss
+Mason, after her first startled glance, nor Polly Wiggles, when she
+discovered the cause of the commotion, quite appreciated its beauty.
+
+“Allan, you may remain with Gabriel after school,” announced Miss Mason
+grimly, switching Wiggles around so she could examine the dress more
+closely, and wondering distractedly what had gotten into two of her
+best pupils.
+
+It was the most exciting day the class had ever known, and in the midst
+of the excitement the assembly-bell rang to call all the school to the
+auditorium to hear the results of the voting.
+
+“Whatever shall I do?” whispered Wiggles despairingly to Miss Mason,
+trying to twist about so as to look down her own back. “Everybody
+will laugh if I march in looking like this, but I don’t want to miss
+hearing the names read.”
+
+“Never mind, my dear. The paint is dry, and the school is so excited
+that you’ll not be noticed after you are once seated, and we march in
+among the first. I only hope that your dress is not ruined. I think, as
+it’s water-color, that it will come out in the wash.”
+
+“It’s an old dress, anyway,” returned Polly Wiggles, taking her place
+in line, and obeying the crisp directions, “Forward, march.”
+
+Hearts beat high with excitement as they marched into the big
+assembly-room where all the other classes in the school were gathering.
+Bows were hastily perked up, and neckties straightened, as one by
+one the pupils took their seats. Alice and Elizabeth, by careful
+maneuvering, managed to sit side by side, and both twisted around to
+smile at Jeannette and Marion, who were two rows behind with the older
+girls.
+
+“There’s that horrid Jane Juggins,” whispered Alice softly in Polly
+Wiggles’ ear. “_Will_ you look at her self-satisfied ’spression.”
+
+“She looks like a cat that has swallowed a canary,” breathed Wiggles
+wickedly, choking back a giggle as she inspected blonde, complacent
+Jane, who was already assuming a queenly air. “Do look at her airs and
+graces, and watch her toss her head,--it’s killing. If she doesn’t look
+out, her barrette will fall off.”
+
+“Hope she won’t be queen. It would spoil the whole May Frolic,”
+responded Alice behind her hand. “But she’s so certain-sure, that she’s
+already asked her Maids of Honor. Would you think she’d dare?”
+
+Further conversation was checked by the arrival of Miss Helen, and as
+she mounted the platform-steps, Polly Wiggles felt a little thrill
+shoot down her spine. “My, what fun it would be!” she thought to
+herself, “to have one’s name read aloud as May Queen, and to march
+first in the big parade.”
+
+“Oh, oh, why doesn’t she begin?” buzzed Alice flouncing about in her
+seat impatiently. “I’ll burst if she doesn’t tell us soon. My hands are
+just as cold as ice, and I prickle right up to the roots of my hair.”
+
+Luckily for Alice’s peace of mind, Miss Helen chose to begin at once,
+and, taking up a big sheet of paper, she smiled at the school and said,
+“I am pleased to announce that the greatest number of votes have been
+cast for a pupil who has high standing both in lessons and deportment.”
+
+“Then it can’t be Jane Juggins,” muttered Alice with satisfaction, but
+quieted at a pinch from Polly Wiggles.
+
+“The largest number of votes for Queen,” resumed Miss Helen clearly,
+“were cast for Elizabeth Eaton. Elizabeth, will you please come forward
+so that the school may see their future Queen?”
+
+Polly Wiggles nearly jumped out of her skin.
+
+“I told you so,” hissed Gabriel in her ear. “Didn’t I vote for you?”
+
+“No, no, it’s a mistake,” gasped Wiggles, shrinking back in her seat.
+“She doesn’t mean me; it’s a mistake.” She crouched down in her chair,
+trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible, for
+every one was turning to stare at her. Seeing she made no effort to
+move, a dozen eager hands pulled her up, and in a daze she felt Alice
+give her a violent shove forward.
+
+“You’re Queen,--go up on the platform,” directed Alice happily. “Oh,
+I’m so glad; I’m so glad I don’t know what to do. Won’t Jane be
+furious?” Unconsciously she jumped up and down in her seat, until a
+poke from Gabriel brought a startled “Ouch!” from her.
+
+“Say, what do you think you are,--a jumping-jack?” he asked heatedly.
+
+Alice subsided hastily, after a quick glance around at Jane. “She looks
+like a thunder-storm,” she thought with satisfaction.
+
+“As for Polly Wiggles, her knees felt like bits of tissue paper as
+she walked forward to the platform steps, until, like beacon-lights,
+she saw Jeannette’s happy smile and Marion’s beaming face, followed
+by their quick look of surprise as they spied the flag that stood out
+in bold relief against the back of her white dress. Their puzzled
+expression and the buzz of astonishment that swept over the room acted
+as a bracing tonic to her nervous embarrassment, and, tossing her
+heavy black curls, she gave the school such a mischievous glance that
+Gabriel the irrepressible bobbed up in his seat to give three cheers
+for “Queen Polly Wiggles,” which every one echoed with a will; that
+is, all but Jane Juggins, who laughed disagreeably. Then, lowering her
+voice, she whispered to Kitty Lane who sat next to her, “Whoever chose
+that little Gypsy tomboy for a Queen? Why, she’s a fright.”
+
+“Well, I think she’s lovely,” returned Kitty with spirit. “She’s as
+nice as can be, and I voted for her, and evidently lots of others did,
+too.”
+
+No one was more delighted at the outcome of the election than Miss
+Helen. Polly Wiggles was a great favorite with all the teachers, for
+she was so natural that she chattered away as easily when talking to
+them, as she did with her best friends, and they all rejoiced at her
+good fortune. Nevertheless, popular opinion had been that an older girl
+would receive the honors, so Miss Helen welcomed her with delight.
+
+There was a little stir of interest as Miss Mason rose to her feet,
+and made a little announcement that was not on the program. “I just
+wanted to explain that our May Queen has unexpectedly been decorated
+ahead of time by our school artist,” she told the interested audience,
+while Allan did his best to disappear from the laughing looks thrown
+in his direction. But he was made more miserable than ever, and wished
+the ground would open and swallow him, when Miss Helen rose to announce
+that “Allan Harrison had been chosen May King.”
+
+“Both King and Queen from our room,” whispered Alice rapturously; “O
+goody!”
+
+“Pooh, I knew Polly Wiggles would be Queen,” crowed Gabriel
+triumphantly, standing up in his excitement and giving Allan a push
+that sent him out in the aisle more suddenly than he expected.
+
+“Kitty Lane was second choice for Queen, and Richard Gerard for King,”
+announced Miss Helen, stepping forward to congratulate Elizabeth and
+Allan, and to offer them seats on the platform.
+
+“Now, Queen Elizabeth, will you please announce the names of your Maids
+of Honor?”
+
+Polly Wiggles arose in blushing confusion, and took a graceful step
+forward.
+
+“I--I thank you for choosing me Queen,” she began, smiling at the many
+friends who were rejoicing with her; “and I choose for my Maids of
+Honor, Jeannette Eaton, Marion West, Alice Maxfield, and Kitty Lane”
+she finished, feeling it would be courteous to include the little girl
+who had been second choice for Queen, and whom she liked very much.
+
+Then the four fortunate Maids had to walk forward to be inspected by
+the school and receive their share of applause, while the Queen laughed
+till deep dimples showed in each cheek and every curl on her head
+danced with excitement.
+
+It really seemed a dream to Polly Wiggles. Never in her wildest
+day-dreams had she thought to be the fortunate girl selected as Queen
+of the May. “Won’t Mother and Daddy be s’prised?” she whispered to
+Jeannette, who had been given a seat next to her sister. “And won’t it
+be fun for us to march first in the parade?”
+
+Jeannette gave her sister’s hand an ecstatic squeeze. As for Marion
+and Alice, they were nearly overcome by the unexpected honor, as they
+afterward explained.
+
+“Now, King Allan, call forth your three Courtiers, and your Herald,”
+prompted Miss Helen to the abashed King, who was greatly regretting
+his unruly paint-brush, and hoping he would not have to forfeit his
+newly-won crown because of his mischievous prank.
+
+“I proclaim Gabriel LeClare as my Herald, and name Dick and Billy
+Gerard and Hugh West as my Courtiers,” announced Allan in tones that
+could be heard all over the auditorium.
+
+“Isn’t that lovely?” whispered Jeannette. “We are all such good friends
+that we’ll have a lovely time. Oh, Wiggles, aren’t you happy?”
+
+“Happy” was not a forceful-enough word for what Polly Wiggles felt, she
+was sure. She was quite positive that never again would she feel such a
+tingle of rapture as that which thrilled her through and through when
+her name was read aloud.
+
+School came to an end at last. Back in the classroom, a disconsolate
+King and Herald looked longingly out of the window at the merry,
+laughing groups that surrounded the popular Queen, her attendants,
+and the Courtiers as well. It was hard to miss all the fun on the big
+day of days, and Allan resolutely decided to control his paint-brush,
+while Gabriel sadly vowed not to take any more snakes to school, in the
+lonely hour that followed.
+
+As for the rest of the May Day attendants, they raced after a panting,
+disheveled Queen, down the road that led toward The Lilacs, as fast as
+they could follow her twinkling white-shod feet.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
+
+CUBBY GOES VISITING
+
+
+Jeannette tiptoed down the staircase with bated breath, and out into
+the pantry, where Hannah was making butter-balls for dinner.
+
+“We’re nearly ready to leave, Hannah,” she whispered, closing the
+pantry door behind her, and watching the swiftly-moving butter-paddles
+with interest. “Cubby is in bed for her nap, and sound asleep. Isn’t
+that lucky? Do let me roll a butter-ball.”
+
+“Now, Miss Jet, you’ll get your pretty dress all greasy,” objected
+Hannah anxiously, eyeing the red swiss dress with its narrow
+black-velvet trimming, and the scarlet straw hat laden with
+red-and-black cherries, approvingly. “There goes a piece on your black
+silk sock now!”
+
+“No, it didn’t; it went on my slipper,” returned Jeannette thankfully,
+“and it will rub right off the patent leather. But I guess maybe I’d
+better not try to do it now, ’cause after we do our shopping, we’re
+all going over to call on Mrs. MacAllister at White Birches, and so I
+mustn’t get mussed.”
+
+“’Pears to me you’re home from school mighty early,” remarked Hannah,
+clearing a place for Jeannette to sit down while she waited for the
+others, and peeping in at the kitchen clock.
+
+“Oh, Elizabeth and I were excused at one o’clock,” Jeannette explained
+happily, “’cause we’re going into town with Mother, Grandma, and Aunt
+Elsie, to get the materials for Elizabeth’s May-Queen dress, and the
+Maids-of-Honor dresses, too. Won’t it be fun? I think it was perfectly
+lovely that Wiggles got the most votes, and I’m so excited it seems as
+if I could hardly wait till May Day. I wish Marion, Alice, and Kitty
+could have gone with us to-day, but Miss Helen said she couldn’t excuse
+so many, so they asked us to get whatever we thought best. Mother and
+Grandma will decide. It won’t take us very long. Then we’re going to
+stop and call on Mrs. MacAllister on the way back, and that’s why we
+want to go while Cubby is asleep, ’cause she’ll cry and cry if she
+can’t go calling with us to see the white pony, and Mother says she’s
+too little.”
+
+“Dat chile knows you-all are going, jest the same,” put in Hannah
+wisely, rolling the butter with experienced hands. “’Cause yesterday
+she came down to the kitchen and done tole Mandy that some day soon she
+was going over to call on dat white pony and de white dog. She’s jest
+plumb crazy over them.”
+
+The pantry door opened a crack.
+
+“She’s going to be terribly disappointed,” sighed Polly Wiggles sadly,
+cautiously edging through the narrow space. “I do hope she’ll take a
+long, long nap, ’cause if she finds us all gone when she wakes up,
+she’ll guess where we are right away, and be heartbroken. She heard
+Grandma say that Mrs. MacAllister had asked us all to come over. She’s
+teased and teased to go with us ever since, and, though Mother said
+‘no,’ she’s been playing ‘lady-going-visiting’ ever since. Mother
+promised to take her over the _next_ time she went, but that didn’t
+seem to satisfy her a bit. I never saw her so possessed to go anywhere
+before, did you, Jet?”
+
+Hannah laid down her paddles long enough to inspect Polly Wiggles from
+head to foot.
+
+“You both suah looks like red robins to-day, ’pears to me,” she said,
+smiling broadly. “Dat white swiss o’ Miss Elizabeth’s all sprinkled
+ovah with red dots, and trimmed with dat narrow red-velvet ribbon, and
+those bobbin’ red cherries on dat scrumptious white straw hat looks
+good enough to eat. Ah don’t know which dress is prettiest--Ah declare
+Ah don’t.”
+
+Wiggles placed one white-shod foot on the edge of Jeannette’s chair,
+and sprang nimbly up beside the butter-crock, despite Hannah’s ohs and
+ahs of protest,--where she sat swinging her red pocketbook to and fro.
+
+“You know--,” she began, but was interrupted as the pantry door opened
+the third time, to admit Mrs. Eaton.
+
+“Run along, children,” she told them, stopping to adjust the narrow
+red-velvet streamers on Elizabeth’s saucy hat. “Grandma and Aunt
+Elsie are already in the car, and we want to get off as quietly as
+possible. Cubby is sleeping nicely, Hannah, and if you peep in at her
+occasionally, it will be all right to finish your work down here first.
+If she wakes, let her play in the Forget-me-not room so she won’t see
+us when we stop at White Birches. She’ll be heartbroken if she sees us
+all go and she has to stay home. I wish it wasn’t Mandy’s day out, but
+we had to go when the children could be excused from school.”
+
+Cubby had been suspicious all morning. She smelled excitement in the
+air, and had only gone to bed under strong urging, but, though the
+girls subdued their giggles, the closing of the car-door wakened her,
+and she lifted her head to listen. But she screwed her eyelids tight
+together and was apparently sleeping soundly when Hannah poked an
+inquiring head in the “Nest,” to gaze at her. Though her eyes were
+closed, Cubby’s mind was working busily, putting two and two together,
+and as soon as Hannah had departed kitchenward, up she sprang, to run
+from one bedroom to the other, her bare feet making no noise on the
+soft rugs.
+
+“Gone,” said she, her lips quivering. “Gone,--to call on the white
+pony,--and they didn’t take me.” Two large tears brimmed in the big
+eyes and slid slowly down the rosy cheeks, for the disappointment was
+keen.
+
+“That boy’s muvver,” she continued, meaning Mrs. MacAllister, “told my
+own Mayma to bring all the gur-rls over to see her. She didn’t say,
+‘Bring Jet and Wiggles and leave Cubby home.’ No, indeed, she said
+‘_all_,’ and ‘all’ means me, too.”
+
+A quick rummaging through her sisters’ closet revealed still another
+fact,--their new swiss dresses and pretty cherry-trimmed hats were
+gone. Her tears changed to anger.
+
+“They’ve gone all dessed up in their bestest desses and wed cherry
+hats,” said she, with curling lip and flashing eyes, “and left me home
+all by self--in a nightgown. Guess I’ll dess up and go call on the
+pony, too, before they get there.”
+
+Peeping out of the window in the Daisy room, she spied the white collie
+strolling across the green lawn opposite, and the sight rekindled her
+determination.
+
+“Maybe that boy’s muvver thinks I’m an itty bitty baby ’bout so long,”
+she fumed, measuring off a scant six inches with her hands. “Maybe she
+thinks I wear long desses and sleep in a crib. I’ll show her I’m just
+as big a gur-rl as Jet and Wiggles, ’cause I sleep in a real bed, and I
+know how to go a-calling, too. All you have to do is to take a ticket
+and leave it at the door, and then they will let you go in. Maybe Jet
+and Wiggles didn’t ’member to take tickets.”
+
+That idea was a pleasing one. In her mind’s eye she saw Jet and Polly
+Wiggles, all dressed up in their dainty frocks, appearing at the door
+of White Birches without calling-cards,--or tickets, as she called
+them,--and being waved away, while she herself presented the maid with
+a magic bit of pasteboard, and in a grown-up manner walked in under her
+sisters’ astonished stares.
+
+But what should she wear? Her own frocks were discarded after one
+quick look,--they were too plainly little-girl dresses. She didn’t
+have a red swiss and a cherry hat in which to look grown up,--oh, no,
+indeed. She didn’t have anything but fine white dresses,--just like a
+baby,--but she’d show them.
+
+After repeated visits to Grandma’s and Aunt Elsie’s closets, she
+decided upon a jade-green silk petticoat of her grandmother’s, which
+swept the floor when put over her nightdress, and a beaded orange
+overblouse of her mother’s that fell nearly down to her knees. A dainty
+rose-pink breakfast-jacket of Aunt Elsie’s, that she had long admired,
+went on over the orange waist, which showed several inches beneath; “In
+case I should be cold,” she murmured contentedly, although the day was
+extremely warm. Aunt Elsie’s best gold-brocade evening slippers were
+put on next, over her own red bedroom slippers. As even then they were
+far too large, she tied them over each instep with Polly Wiggles’ pink
+hair-ribbons, and then started her search for a hat.
+
+She was sure that the others had gone shopping to buy the
+dress-materials, and she knew that she only had a short time, so she
+worked feverishly, looking in boxes and on closet-shelves, and pulling
+things out till the rooms were in a jumble. A few weeks before Grandma
+Carr had purchased a purple toque covered with violets, and Cubby
+had longed ever since to try it on her own curly head. Now was her
+opportunity,--and then, too, it was a very grown-up-looking hat. At
+last she spied it on Grandma’s top shelf, and, pulling a stool to the
+closet, up she clambered, dragging down a mink choker as well, that she
+pounced upon with glee.
+
+The toque was large,--so large that it completely covered her head
+and fell to her chin, disconcerting her for a minute; but Cubby was
+ingenious.
+
+“’Spect it’s ’cause I haven’t long hair pinned up top,” she mused,
+pondering deeply. A bright idea popped into her mind. Aunt Elsie had
+been in an “Old Folks Concert” a short time before, and Cubby had seen
+her dressed in an old-fashioned frock, with white hair piled high
+on top of her head. “The white hair isn’t my own,” Aunt Elsie had
+explained, laughing at her little niece’s look of horror at seeing
+Auntie “grown old” so suddenly. “It’s false white hair that I bought at
+the store, and pinned on. All my own hair is underneath.”
+
+Into Aunt Elsie’s room she scurried, and, after ransacking the
+bureau-drawers, at last she found the white switch and puffs tucked
+away in a big box where they had been put to stay until used again
+for another masquerade. Over her own mop of gold curls went the long
+switch, pinned on with dozens of Mother’s bronze hairpins. When the
+large puffs were added, the effect was most impressive,--to Cubby’s
+idea of thinking,--though slightly marred by the short golden curls
+that would peep out over her ears.
+
+The violet toque stayed in place with the white hair to pad it up, and,
+pulling on a new pair of white kid gloves that she had found in her
+search, she hurried over to the cheval-glass to view the effect, adding
+Aunt Elsie’s coral beads and long ear-rings to match, although she had
+a struggle screwing the ear-rings in her ears.
+
+“No one would take me for an itty gur-rl now,” she purred contentedly,
+spilling half a bottle of her mother’s best perfume over her dress and
+shaking the powder-box violently, “I looks just like a Mayma.”
+
+Grandmother Carr would not have felt flattered at the comparison. She
+never wore ear-rings herself, but to Cubby they were the last touch
+required toward completing her costume, and she gazed at her reflection
+approvingly.
+
+It was at that moment that her eyes fell upon Boots, who sat looking
+out of the front window with what she decided was a lonesome
+expression, but which was really sleepiness.
+
+“Poor Boots,” she cooed sweetly, “did they leave you home, too? Would
+you like to go a-visiting to call on the booful white pony and the
+doggie?”
+
+It spoke much for Boot’s disposition, as in ten minutes’ time his small
+mistress had attired him in a doll’s blue-gingham dress, from Polly
+Wiggles’ doll’s trunk, as well as a baby bonnet, four mittens on his
+paws, and a white lace veil.
+
+Then, catching up a blue parasol of Jeannette’s in one hand, and the
+big pocketbook that Grandma used for marketing, and holding the
+protesting Boots tightly in the other, the wee bear stole cautiously
+down the front stairs, hoping against hope that she would find the
+coast clear and escape by the front door before Hannah spied her. She
+tripped and nearly fell several times, owing to the length of her
+dress, while her struggle in clothing Boots had rather damaged her
+costume, but her spirit was undaunted.
+
+“Oh, my ticket,” she murmured distractedly, pausing in the front hall
+and looking back uncertainly. “I forgot to ’member it, and what shall I
+do?”
+
+She knew it would take far too long to go back up-stairs, especially
+with the heavy and violently struggling Boots in one arm, and she was
+afraid to put him down for fear he would run away. Strange to say, in
+spite of his “lonesome” expression, Boots did not seem anxious to go
+calling. So it was with a thankful heart that she noticed the plate of
+calling cards on the hall console-table. It took but a minute to select
+one, with “Mrs. Clayton Campbell” engraved upon it. Of course the name
+meant nothing to Cubby,--she was attracted solely by the black border
+around it, which she greatly admired.
+
+Then, pausing to adjust Grandpa’s shell-rimmed glasses over her
+mischievous brown eyes, and to fix the mink choker that added the final
+touch to her costume, Cubby crept out, not quite half an hour having
+passed since Hannah had seen her “napping” in bed.
+
+Barely had the front door closed behind her, when Hannah opened the
+door from the kitchen, only to pause as the back door burst open, and
+Andy, the gardener, came hurrying in with a badly burned hand from a
+bonfire he had been making.
+
+“Stop your groanin’ or you’ll be wakin’ Miss Evelyn,” scolded Hannah,
+glancing up toward the door of the “Nest,” which Cubby had thoughtfully
+closed behind her. “She’s havin’ a fine nap, and if you’ll set down
+quietly, Ah’ll fix your hand and bandage it so it will feel more easy.”
+
+Andy sank into a chair as he was bid, and, never doubting but that
+her small charge was safely tucked away in bed, Hannah flew to find
+bandages and oil.
+
+While teetering along unsteadily on the high French heels of her
+“borrowed” slippers, a ridiculous little figure crossed the road, and
+crept up the broad steps of the beautiful home--White Birches.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
+
+AN INTERRUPTED TEA-PARTY
+
+
+Mrs. MacAllister glanced from the black-bordered calling-card to the
+shaking shoulders of Martha, the maid. Try as she might, she could
+recollect no “Mrs. Clayton Campbell” of her acquaintance.
+
+“It’s a little girl, ma’am,” Martha explained hastily, “and in the
+queerest get-up you ever did see. But she handed me the card and asked
+for Mrs. MacAllister with such a grand air, that I showed her into the
+music-room.”
+
+Mrs. MacAllister descended the staircase hastily, and paused in the
+music-room doorway with twitching lips, as a queer little figure,
+clutching a violently agitated bundle, slid to its feet and advanced
+with high-held hand.
+
+“How do you do,” said Cubby formally. “I’ve come to call.”
+
+“Won’t you have a seat?” murmured Mrs. MacAllister, controlling her
+amusement with difficulty, and casting an apprehensive glance at
+the violet toque, which, with the white hair, had slid over one of
+Cubby’s ears, giving her a rakish appearance of which she was entirely
+unconscious.
+
+“I am derry well, thank you,” returned the visitor calmly, boxing
+Boots’ ears with vigor to quiet him, and clambering with much puffing
+and panting into a high wing-chair.
+
+“I do wonder who the cunning baby is,” thought Mrs. MacAllister with
+enjoyment, stealing a look at the demure visitor, who sat bolt upright
+on the edge of the big chair. “Her face looks familiar, but in that rig
+it’s hard to identify her.”
+
+Donald, on his way to the porch, glanced in casually, and then, with
+a twinkle in his dark eyes, strolled forward to have a better view of
+this self-possessed caller, who was greatly enjoying the sensation she
+was creating.
+
+“Donald, this is--this is--,” Mrs. MacAllister began uncertainly, but
+paused abruptly. It would be too ridiculous to say, “Mrs. Clayton
+Campbell,”--and yet who _was_ this cunning, mischievous youngster, with
+her highly amusing grown-up airs that contrasted so strongly with her
+dimpled baby face.
+
+“I am Evelyn Eaton,” announced Cubby easily, drawing a black-bordered
+handkerchief from her bag and wiping her nose with a flourish that
+nearly upset Donald’s gravity. He stooped hastily to conceal his amused
+face, and to pick up two mittens which Boots had lost in his frantic
+struggles.
+
+“Are these yours?” he asked, not daring to glance at his mother, whose
+shoulders were heaving suspiciously. “They look as if they had dropped
+from the--the-- What _is_ it, anyway?” he inquired curiously, eyeing
+the uneasy, wriggling bundle from which a plaintive “meow” had issued.
+
+Cubby twitched the baby bonnet about and threw back the lace veil,
+revealing an unhappy furry face which she proceeded to dust off with
+her black-bordered handkerchief, much to Boots’ discomfort.
+
+“It’s Boots,” she explained gravely, as she cast a lightning glance
+about the attractive room; “and I brought him over to call on the pony
+and the lovely white doggie. He was lonesome,” she finished, looking
+from one interested face to the other with wide, dark eyes.
+
+“That was very thoughtful of you,” assured Mrs. MacAllister, completely
+charmed with the child. “Now, suppose we have afternoon tea together,
+and then we’ll all go out and visit the ponies. How would that be?”
+
+Cubby’s smile was ecstatic. Never had she dreamed of being served
+afternoon tea like a real, grown-up young lady. What a lot she would
+have to tell Wiggles and Jet! But would she dare stay? She had no
+desire to meet Mother, Grandma, and the rest, face to face, until
+safely home again, for she knew very well that punishment would follow
+her naughty escapade,--and follow quickly.
+
+“I--I think maybe I’d better be going,” she ventured uncertainly,
+sliding to the floor and losing one gold slipper with a bang.
+
+“Oh, you’ve only been here a few minutes,” urged Donald, eager to
+keep her talking. He stooped as he spoke to tie her slippers on more
+securely, and completely won the wee bear’s heart by the grown-up,
+dignified manner in which he assisted her back into her high chair.
+
+“Just as if I was a real lady,” she thought gleefully. “Guess I’ll stay
+and have tea and see the ponies after all. It will be a long, long time
+before Mother and Mayma will be here.”
+
+“I used to know your mother and Aunt Elsie well, when I was a little
+girl,” Mrs. MacAllister continued, hoping that she would be able to
+remember all the details of her visitor’s remarkable costume after she
+had gone.
+
+“You have sisters, too, haven’t you?” chimed in Donald, anxious to hear
+more about the girl that could turn cart-wheels better than most boys.
+
+Cubby drew herself up with a grand air, while, parrot-like, there
+dropped from her lips a sentence that she had heard Hannah use only
+that morning in speaking to the laundress’ daughter, who was the eldest
+of eight.
+
+“Oh, yes, but it isn’t an easy thing to be the oldest of a family,
+for you have--you have--’sponsibilities,” she finally brought out
+triumphantly, the word having nearly eluded her.
+
+Donald choked, but politely turned it into a cough. “Oh, are you the
+oldest?” he questioned, to keep her talking.
+
+“Oh, yes. I’m a hundred,” she returned unexpectedly, pushing back the
+spectacles that _would_ slip off her nose.
+
+Mrs. MacAllister bit her lip. “And your sisters, how old are they?” she
+asked in carefully controlled tones.
+
+“Oh, they’re only itty gur-rls,” the wee bear responded. Then, lest
+conversation might languish, she added sorrowfully, “And sometimes
+they’re derry naughty.”
+
+“That’s too bad. What do they do?” inquired Mrs. MacAllister, duly
+shocked at Cubby’s horrified tone.
+
+“Well, sometimes they run away,” returned Cubby virtuously, smoothing
+her skirt with a solemn air. Then, as the conversation seemed in danger
+of becoming a bit too personal, she changed the subject abruptly.
+
+“This is a pitty house, but you have a drefful lot of windows to
+wash,” she announced suddenly, just as Martha entered, wheeling the
+tea-wagon.
+
+Martha, with shaking shoulders and a hasty cough, left the room at a
+low-voiced remark from Mrs. MacAllister, and Cubby gazed after her
+thoughtfully.
+
+“You know, I fink maybe your maid is sick,” she confided in a stage
+whisper to the delighted Donald. “Her face is all wed, and she shakes
+all over as if she had chills and fever,--and she coughed, too.”
+
+“Maybe she’s getting whooping-cough,” suggested Donald joyously. “Have
+you ever had it?”
+
+Cubby shot him a suspicious glance, but his face was perfectly sober.
+
+“Yes, I’ve had it, years and years ago when I was only an itty gur-rl
+’bout three,” she replied severely. “You cough and cough and cough, and
+sometimes you throw up, too. Does your maid throw up?”
+
+“I--I don’t think so. I guess she just has a cold,” returned Mrs.
+MacAllister unsteadily as she poured three cups of cocoa and topped
+each with big spoonfuls of whipped cream, while Cubby eyed the dainty
+plate of cakes with satisfaction. “Do--do you care for cocoa and cakes?”
+
+“Oh, yes, I like frosted cakes derry much, thank you. And cocoanut
+cake, and cheese, and mince pie, and bananas better’n anything else,”
+continued Cubby rapidly, naming over with much gusto all the things
+that she was not allowed to eat, and which she coveted. “Do the ponies
+like bananas?”
+
+“No, but they love apples, and we’ll give them each one when we go out
+to see them,” Donald smiled, handing her a gold-and-white cup of cocoa
+and passing the cakes.
+
+Cubby stirred her cocoa into swirling eddies, unmindful of the greedy
+glance that Boots was giving it. It was the first thing Boots had seen
+all that sad afternoon that interested him at all, and the nearness to
+the whipped cream was more than he could resist. Down went the baby
+bonnet over the cup, and into the froth of cream and cocoa went Boots’
+furry face and pink tongue.
+
+“Naughty Boots, aren’t you ’shamed?” scolded Cubby in disgust as he
+lifted creamy whiskers and a cocoa-smeared nose from his stolen feast.
+
+“Let me get your kitty a saucer,” suggested Mrs. MacAllister. “I didn’t
+know that he enjoyed cocoa, too, or I would have given him some before.”
+
+“He’s young, and hasn’t derry good table-manners,” faltered Cubby
+hastily, wiping Boots’ whiskers with the dainty tea-napkin on her lap,
+in a panic at this unexpected breach of etiquette.
+
+It was unfortunate that at this moment Bingo, the white collie, should
+have come strolling in, unperceived by the others. He eyed the uneasy
+bundle in Cubby’s lap casually at first, uncertain as to what it might
+be. It moved,--yet it did not look like any cat he had ever seen
+before. Then, just as he raised his head to utter a warning growl, the
+object lifted a furry head from which two green eyes glared defiantly
+at him, and his doubt changed to a certainty. There was a scamper of
+feet across the polished floor, a huge white shape planted two paws
+right in the cup on Cubby’s lap, sending a trickling stream of cocoa
+to the floor, while a flying bundle of fur and lace veil gave a quick
+leap to the piano, where it stood spitting violently and uttering
+deep-throated yowls.
+
+[Illustration: “OH, YES, I LIKE FROSTED CAKES DERRY MUCH.”--_Page 251._]
+
+Alas for Cubby! Time had flown only too rapidly, and right in the midst
+of the excitement, in walked Grandmother, Mother, and the rest. They
+stood in startled amazement at the tableau that confronted them, and at
+sight of the piteous little figure that climbed down from a big chair
+and stood facing them with tearful eyes. If ever guilt was written on
+any one’s face, it was on Cubby’s, in spite of its smeary appearance.
+But not even the mixture of tears, cocoa, and frosting could disguise
+her from her mother’s eyes.
+
+“I--I guess I’d better be going,” she gasped, sidling rapidly toward
+the front door, as Donald grabbed Bingo, who was making frantic efforts
+to climb up on the piano.
+
+“_Cubby!_” ejaculated all three ladies in horrified tones.
+
+“If it isn’t my new violet hat!” exclaimed Grandma Carr.
+
+“And my gold-brocaded slippers,” put in Aunt Elsie. “Cubby, you wretch!”
+
+“Oh, oh, _oh_! What is _that_?” stammered Jeannette, pointing to a long
+gray tail that protruded from an animated bundle of blue gingham. The
+bundle spit violently as Wiggles darted forward and peeped under the
+bonnet.
+
+“It’s--it’s _Boots_,” she gasped, hardly believing her eyes. “Oh,
+Cubby, how could you be so naughty?”
+
+“I--I was making a call,” hiccoughed the wee bear as Grandmother and
+Mother swooped down upon her. “I--oh, I didn’t mean to drop the cocoa.”
+Her day of judgment had come sooner than she expected.
+
+“Please don’t scold her,” implored Mrs. MacAllister as she cordially
+greeted her friends. “You can’t imagine how I have enjoyed her visit,
+and the spilled cocoa was entirely Bingo’s fault. Donald, will you
+please tell Martha to clear up the débris.”
+
+“I must apologize, Marie, for my bad baby,” Mrs. Eaton began, looking
+sorrowfully at the naughty culprit, who sniffed back her tears with
+all dignity forgotten. “After all these years I had hoped to renew our
+friendship again this afternoon, but I’ll have to excuse myself and
+take Evelyn home.”
+
+“I’ll attend to Cubby,” put in Grandma Carr briskly, seizing Boots from
+the piano and trying not to smile at the absurd little figure that
+gazed piteously at her. “You and Elsie and the children stay and have
+your visit.” Through the window she glanced across toward The Lilacs,
+where she could see Hannah running excitedly down the path. “I’ll go
+and reassure Hannah as to Cubby’s safety, and dispose of the family
+wardrobe that she has borrowed.” She lifted off the violet toque, white
+hair and all, as she spoke, revealing the rumpled gold of Cubby’s own
+soft curls beneath.
+
+Cubby suddenly remembered her manners. “I--I didn’t mean to be bad,”
+she gulped sorrowfully, “and--and I’ve had a derry nice visit, and
+p-please give the ponies my love. Oh, I did want to pat them!” she
+wailed, her tears breaking out afresh. It was too much, to be deprived
+of the delicious refreshments of which she had only had a taste, to
+miss seeing the ponies after all her anticipation, and to be taken home
+in disgrace, with such a disastrous ending to her lovely visit. Her lip
+quivered as she looked longingly at the little frosted cakes that now
+Jet and Wiggles would enjoy. Donald could not resist the tear-filled
+dark eyes.
+
+“Never you mind, Cubby,” he whispered softly in her ear, wondering how
+any one could have the heart to scold her. “Keep a stiff upper lip, and
+I’ll come over and give you a ride with the ponies just as soon as your
+mother says you may go.”
+
+The wee bear’s face brightened as if by magic. She shot an adoring,
+grateful glance at this big boy who had not laughed at her a bit,
+and who had treated her with as much deference as if she were a real
+grown-up young lady.
+
+“Cubby,” broke in Mrs. MacAllister, leaning over to kiss her
+cocoa-stained cheek, “I want you to come over to see me again soon.
+Miss Helen has told me about the May Frolic, and has invited Donald
+to join the games in the afternoon. You know he’s going to feel very
+lonesome that day when all the other young people are eating a picnic
+luncheon in the meadows. So I wonder if you and Mother, Aunt Elsie and
+Grandma, couldn’t come over and have a May Day luncheon with us, and
+then we’ll all drive over to see the crowning of the Queen. Don’t you
+think that would be fun?”
+
+Cubby’s eyes danced at the idea, and she gave a rainbow smile.
+It wouldn’t be quite so hard to leave the tea-party and take the
+punishment bound to follow, with the lovely luncheon to look forward to.
+
+“Oh, oh, _oh_, thank you derry, derry much,” she breathed happily,
+balancing herself on the tottery heels and dropping a curtsy, as she
+had been taught.
+
+“Come, Cubby,” began Grandma firmly, but the small sinner paused once
+more as she reached the door, and looked back wistfully.
+
+“I think,” she piped clearly, gazing approvingly at Donald, “that you
+are a derry nice itty boy;” and amid the sudden laughter that followed
+her grandmother bore her hastily away.
+
+“I do think she’s the cunningest little girl I ever saw,” Donald
+repeated enthusiastically half an hour later, as he followed Jeannette
+and Elizabeth, to whom he had been introducing the ponies, through the
+French doors into the music-room, where Mrs. MacAllister, Aunt Elsie,
+and Mrs. Eaton had been having a cozy chat together.
+
+“She’s a very mischievous one,” put in Mrs. Eaton ruefully, with a
+sorrowful shake of her head and a smile at Donald, who had been much
+amused at Cubby’s escapade.
+
+“Now don’t you punish her, Jean,” pleaded Mrs. MacAllister appealingly.
+“She’s a perfect darling, and I never enjoyed a call so much in my
+life. You know she puts me so much in mind of Elsie when she was that
+age and used to steal your little chocolate-pot. Only Elsie’s eyes were
+blue instead of brown, but they had the same twinkle. If you ever could
+have heard the grown-up manner in which Cubby assured us she was a
+hundred----”
+
+“Or seen the cat’s expression when he saw the cocoa,” broke in Donald
+mischievously, as Martha, trying to look as if nothing unusual had
+happened, appeared again with the tea-wagon and passed fresh cocoa and
+cakes to the visitors. “But, honestly, she was the pluckiest youngster
+that I ever saw. Most children would have screamed when that great
+big dog rushed across the room and jumped at her when he tried to get
+Boots. She never gave a peep.”
+
+“I strongly suspect it was because she saw that ‘fate was upon her,’ as
+we appeared just then. Did you ever see such a get-up in your life?”
+laughed Aunt Elsie, helping herself to a frosted cake. “The idea of
+that little scamp hunting up that white hair and that new violet hat of
+Mother’s. She’s been possessed for that hat ever since she saw it.”
+
+“I think, myself, that the black-bordered calling-card was the crowning
+touch,” replied Mrs. MacAllister with much enjoyment, and a twinkle
+in her brown eyes. “I visualized a widow in her fifties at least, the
+name sounded so impressive, and when I saw that cunning mite--” Words
+failed her, and she paused to laugh again at the recollection.
+
+Wiggles and Jeannette giggled. They couldn’t help but see the funny
+side of the prank, although at first they had been overcome with
+mortification. Mrs. MacAllister had been so charming, however, and so
+enthusiastic in her praises of their naughty little sister, that she
+had put them at ease immediately. Still it was too bad that this should
+have happened the first time they met this delightful friend of their
+mother’s girlhood days, and the handsome, interesting boy who had lived
+all over the globe.
+
+“I’m glad she approves of my nice _little_ son,” Mrs. MacAllister said,
+glancing mischievously at the tall boy as she accented the “little.”
+
+Polly Wiggles stole a look at Donald from under her long lashes, as
+she daintily drank her cocoa. He certainly was the most self-possessed
+boy she had ever met,--but no wonder. No one else she had ever known
+had traveled from country to country with a tutor, as she had heard
+Grandmother Carr say this lad had done ever since his baby days. You
+couldn’t call any boy who had _lived_ in as many lands as she had
+studied about in her geography, an everyday boy, and yet he didn’t seem
+a bit “stuck-up” either.
+
+“Have a cake,” broke in Donald, holding out a plate of plummy, tempting
+little cakes that could not be resisted. “You could jolly well eat a
+dozen of these, they’re so small, and still be hungry.”
+
+“They’re delicious,” returned Jeannette, looking about the interesting
+room with a little thrill of pleasure. It was even lovelier than she
+imagined,--truly an Enchanted Palace.
+
+“I’m _so_ glad that we have a home at last,” continued Donald with
+satisfaction, eating three cakes in rapid succession and glancing
+approvingly at the cherry-trimmed hats. “It seems jolly to be in
+America to stay,--and to think that next fall I’ll really go to school
+like other boys. It’s too late to start this spring,” he finished
+regretfully.
+
+Polly Wiggles opened her blue eyes wide. “Why, I thought you had a
+tutor,” she began, wondering why any boy should express the hope of
+going to school in such a happy voice.
+
+“Used to have,” corrected Donald. “It was only because we were always
+on the move,” he explained hastily, seeing their look of interest. “You
+see, we’d be a month in one place, then two months somewhere else, and
+so on; and I couldn’t keep changing schools like that.”
+
+“But didn’t you love traveling?” asked Jeannette.
+
+“Y-yes, it was great seeing different places, but it was hard to make
+friends and then go away and leave them, and have to start in getting
+acquainted all over again.”
+
+“Donald, I have an idea,” broke in Mrs. MacAllister suddenly, clapping
+her hands like a girl. “Elizabeth is to be May Queen on May Day, and
+she and her Maids of Honor are to march first in the parade. But who
+ever heard of a Queen--walking?”
+
+Donald’s eyes sparkled. “Of course not,” he burst out enthusiastically.
+“Imagine a Queen plodding along on foot. Why, she must have a beautiful
+chariot, drawn by white ponies----”
+
+“And the chariot must be a bower of flowers, and the ponies must wear
+white harness,” continued Mrs. MacAllister, watching Wiggles’ shining
+eyes and Jeannette’s happy face. “Now, Jean, don’t you dare say ‘No’ to
+all my lovely plans. I have always wanted a daughter to fuss over, and
+instead I have a big husky son, who simply _can’t_ wear frilly dresses
+and flowery hats. Now you see this solves the problem, and I’ll simply
+borrow your girls and pretend that Don has three sisters.”
+
+“That would be _bully_,” beamed Donald, charmed at the idea. “It’s
+lonesome being an only child, I can tell you.”
+
+“It’s lovely of you, offering the ponies,” returned Mrs. Eaton, who saw
+the delight in the children’s faces at the idea. “But----”
+
+“No ‘buts’ about it,” said Mrs. MacAllister gayly. “You couldn’t
+deprive me of such a pleasure. The ponies are as gentle as kittens,
+and if you will let us know your color-scheme, the chariot will await
+the command of Queen Elizabeth and her attendants on May Day morning.
+Donald and I will decorate it, and it will give us a real ‘homey’
+feeling to be able to have a finger in the pie.”
+
+So it was settled, and as soon as the call was over, two happy, excited
+children raced over to Sweet Briar to tell the news to Alice, Marion,
+and Kitty.
+
+“Well,” said Alice solemnly, pinching herself hard to be sure it was
+true, “I don’t mind so much now that Donald isn’t a girl. He certainly
+looks like a Prince Charming, and his mother is just exactly as good as
+a Fairy Godmother, to think of anything as lovely as that. Now sit down
+and tell us every single thing about your visit.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER NINETEEN
+
+MAY-BASKETS
+
+
+The clock in the hall chimed four as the sun peeped over the hills
+and into the windows of the Forget-me-not room, where Jeannette and
+Elizabeth were sleeping soundly.
+
+Birds were already twittering sleepily, and the lilac-plumes along the
+pathway nodded to the syringa-bushes opposite, as if to wish a gay
+good morning. A fat robin went running across the dewy lawn, busily
+searching for his early-morning breakfast, while a plump gray squirrel
+did the acrobatic feats that constituted his “daily dozen” on the limb
+of the big oak-tree that tapped and whispered against the bedroom
+window.
+
+Suddenly through the early-morning silence came the tinkle of a banjo
+and the soft strum-strum of a ukelele, punctuated at intervals by
+snorts and giggles and a mysterious banging and clashing. Jeannette
+turned over uneasily, and Polly Wiggles sat up in bed with a jerk,
+rubbing sleepy, bewildered eyes and pushing back tangled curls from her
+face.
+
+“For goodness’ sake, Jet, wake up,” she whispered imperatively, leaning
+over to the other twin bed and giving her drowsy sister a soft pinch.
+“Listen to that clashing and banging. What can it be?”
+
+Jeannette stirred restlessly and opened one sleepy eye. “It’s--why,
+it’s music,” she replied in a much surprised tone of voice, stifling a
+yawn and listening to the plunk-plunk-plunk beneath the windows. “Why,
+Wiggles, if it isn’t May Day!”
+
+“So it is,” responded the May Queen, putting one foot out of bed and
+groping about for her blue bedroom slippers. “‘The more haste, the less
+speed,’” she quoted with a little giggle, as she dived under the bed
+and emerged triumphantly with the elusive slippers in her grasp. “Look
+how light it is, Jet; it must be time to get up. I’m going to see what
+that noise is, anyway; it sounds like a circus. Where _is_ my kimono?”
+
+“What in the world is going on at this early hour!” exclaimed
+Grandmother Carr’s astonished voice from the hall. “It’s only four
+o’clock in the morning, and I thought by that racket it was eight at
+least.”
+
+“Children,” called Mrs. Eaton, appearing through the doorway,
+struggling into her dainty yellow kimono, “it’s those ridiculous boys,
+and I do believe they’re giving you a serenade. We’re all so wide-awake
+that we might just as well get up and peep out at them. Slip into your
+kimonos and slippers.”
+
+Dr. Eaton thrust a tousled head through the door. “The young rascals,”
+he yawned, “the idea of waking up respectable people at this unearthly
+hour. I suppose this is in honor of the May Queen; that’s what I get
+for entertaining royalty unawares. Just look what you’ve let us in for,
+Woggsie. Come along, Cubby; I’ll hold you up so you can see.”
+
+Jeannette sighed blissfully as she scrambled into her blue kimono and
+donned slippers with pompons to match. “I never dreamed that anything
+so grown-uppy would happen to us, did you, Wiggles? It’s just lovely
+being in a May Frolic.”
+
+“Listen, oh, listen,” laughed Grandfather, joining the “nightgown
+brigade,” as Dr. Eaton called it, and followed by Grandmother and Aunt
+Elsie in the first things they could lay their hands on. “I thought I
+heard a familiar note. They’re starting the music of “For I’m to be
+Queen of the May,’ sure as I live.”
+
+Polly Wiggles and Jeannette dashed to the window and peeped through the
+curtains, stifling giggles that nearly overcame them, as they looked in
+round-eyed amazement at the group below.
+
+Gabriel and Dick, with cheeks puffed to the bursting-point, were
+playing away as if their lives depended upon it, on combs over which
+tissue paper had been placed. Donald was strumming on a banjo, and
+Billy and Allan joined in with thumps and chords on their “ukes,” while
+Hugh gave an occasional bang on a dish-pan he carried as a drum, or a
+clash to a pair of pot-lids he was using as cymbals. What he lacked in
+music he made up in volume, and his rat-a-tat-tat had awakened others
+in the neighborhood as well. Next door, at Sweet Briar, Marion and
+Kitty, who were staying with Alice over night, were peeking out at the
+serenaders in amazement, while heads were popping from the windows at
+White Birches to see what all the music was about.
+
+The combs played the melody through once, and then were laid aside.
+Then, accompanied by the banjo in Donald’s capable hands, and
+punctuated by resounding clashes on the pot-lids from Hugh, all six
+boys sang the following ridiculous parody, giving careful enunciation
+to each word while the audience listened with eager ears:
+
+  “We woke to call you early, call you early, Wiggles dear,
+  To-day will be the gladdest time of all the bright New Year;
+  Of all the bright New Year, Wiggles, so merry and so gay,
+  For you will be Queen of the May, Wiggles; you will be Queen of the
+                                                                  May.
+
+  “You slept so sound all night, Wiggles, we knew you’d never wake,
+  Unless we called you loudly as the day began to break;
+  So up we jumped to waken you before the peep of day,
+  For you’re to be Queen of the May, Wiggles; you’re to be Queen of the
+                                                                   May.
+
+  “Jeannette will go out with you as you hasten to the green,
+  And Marion and Alice, too, will see you crowned the Queen;
+  The lads and lasses from the school will march with May-poles gay,
+  And you will be Queen of the May, Woggsie; you will be Queen of the
+                                                                   May.
+
+  “So jump from out your bed, Woggsie, and rub your sleepy eyes.
+  Oh, Marion, and Kitty-Cat, and Alice, too, arise,
+  And gobble down your breakfast fast, it’s time you were away,
+  For you’re to be Queen of the May, Woggsie; you’re to be Queen of the
+                                                                   May.
+
+  “Arise, fair Queen, we beg of you, and don your dainty gown,
+  Come polish up your scepter bright and freshen up your crown;
+  Get out your ermine mantle that’s in moth-balls packed away,
+  For you’re to be Queen of the May, Wiggles; you’re to be Queen of the
+                                                                   May.
+
+  “We’ve gathered buds for you, Wiggles, the best that we could get;
+  Alas, the dew was heavy, so our feet got sopping wet,
+  So, if we’ve caught our death, Wiggles, and cough our lives away,
+  It’s ’cause you’re Queen of the May, Wiggles; ’cause you’re Queen of
+                                                             the May.”
+
+A final clash on the dish-pan brought to a close the parody which Billy
+had written, amid the laughter of the girls and the hollow coughs of
+the mischievous boys.
+
+Dr. Eaton leaned perilously far over the sill. “As a physician,” he
+remarked gravely, but with a twinkle in his blue eyes, “I recommend
+bed for three hours for you all. The May Queen and her Maid of Honor
+wish me to extend their thanks for this delightful and unexpected
+early-morning concert. But, as beauty sleep is needed even by royalty,
+we will bid you a fond--and _hasty_--farewell.”
+
+“Here, Woggsie, toss this out to them,” whispered Mrs. Eaton, handing
+her a box of home-made fudge that had been on the table.
+
+Polly Wiggles’ face dimpled with amusement as she popped her head
+cautiously between the curtain-frills. “Here’s some medicine for your
+coughs,” she twinkled. “Catch! But look out that it doesn’t give you
+nightmares,” she warned hastily, as six pairs of hands grasped eagerly
+at the coveted prize which Hugh dexterously caught by ingeniously
+holding his dish-pan up to receive it.
+
+“Not to be taken except after meals,” sang out Dr. Eaton, popping his
+head out again. “Now skip, you young rascals, and let me finish my
+early-morning nap in peace and quiet.”
+
+“That prescription holds good for these fair damsels, too,” Mrs. Eaton
+announced firmly, as, catching up the sleepy Cubby, whose head was
+nodding like a drowsy poppy, she shooed the girls across the room to
+bed, to finish their morning snooze.
+
+  “To bed, to bed, you sleepy-head,
+  Or else you may expect
+  A pale-eyed fright your mirror bright
+  To-morrow will reflect,”
+
+Aunt Elsie chanted as she scurried back to the Rosery.
+
+“More truth than poetry to that,” Grandpa called over his shoulder. “It
+would never do to look like pale, hollow-eyed ghosts for the Frolic,
+that’s sure; so scamper back to bed, chicks, and don’t let us hear a
+peep out of you till seven-thirty at least.”
+
+“Yes, and eight would be better,” yawned Dr. Eaton drowsily. “Sweet
+dreams, youngsters.”
+
+It was hard to settle down again after the exciting interruption.
+Jeannette and Polly Wiggles kept breaking into stifled giggles at
+the recollection of the funny picture Hugh had made, with his heavy
+auburn hair standing up every which-way as he clashed away on the
+pot-lids,--and Gabriel’s ear-splitting squeaks and squeals on the comb.
+
+“Isn’t it nice that Donald has got so well acquainted with the boys,”
+whispered Wiggles with satisfaction, as she burrowed into her soft
+pillow and tried to compose herself for sleep. “I just know I’ll never
+sleep another wink, for I feel wide-awake as an owl. I do wonder what
+our chariot looks like, don’t you? Donald said yesterday that they
+had just finished it, but he wouldn’t tell me a thing about it,--mean
+thing.”
+
+Jeannette cuddled down comfortably and stared at the border of
+butterflies on the blue walls above. A question flashed in her mind at
+sight of the painted blossoms.
+
+“Do you s’pose any one will hang May-baskets for us?” she breathed
+cautiously, twisting about to glance at the other bed. “Do you
+s’pose----?”
+
+What she supposed did not interest Wiggles at all, for she had gone
+fast asleep, and though Jeannette had firmly intended remaining awake
+so as to be down bright and early, when she opened her eyes again there
+was a tantalizing odor of hot muffins in the air, and Aunt Elsie stood
+in the doorway, laughing at her drowsy face.
+
+“You’d better ‘up with the lark,’ Jet,” she said, adding in a louder
+tone as she ran on down the hall, “Polly Wiggles has one sock on
+already, and the front porch is simply _crammed_ with May-baskets.”
+
+“Hurry up and let Mother fix your hair before she goes down,” advised
+Polly Wiggles, appearing suddenly with every glistening curl in place,
+and trying to fasten her pink-gingham frock with fingers that quivered
+with excitement. “I’ll wait for you, and then, before we look at our
+baskets, let’s skip out the back way and leave the baskets for the
+girls over at Sweet Briar. It will be lots more fun to wait and see our
+own when we come back.”
+
+“All right,” agreed Jeannette, disappearing in haste. “James promised
+to leave Miss Helen’s, and all the others for those that lived at a
+distance, the first thing this morning,” she called back, as her sister
+saved time by pulling back the covers of both beds and hanging the two
+blue kimonos in the closet.
+
+Twenty minutes later the baskets had been hung, and, crouched behind
+the briar-rose bushes that formed a thick hedge all about the place,
+they had the satisfaction of watching Marion, Alice, and Kitty pounce
+upon them with cries of delight, while they looked unsuspectingly
+right over the spot where their laughing friends were concealed, as
+they anxiously scanned the road.
+
+“They never dreamed who left them,” Jeannette said with a little skip,
+as she rose from her hiding-place after the girls had given up and gone
+back in the house. “Let’s hustle now; I’m dying to see what’s at home
+for us.”
+
+The front porch of The Lilacs was filled from steps to doorway, and,
+as the two girls scampered up the pathway, a sudden stir and rustle,
+followed by flying footsteps around the back of the house, showed
+that some one had been there in their absence. There were baskets of
+every kind and description, some marked with Jeannette’s and some with
+Elizabeth’s name, while Cubby proudly carried in six of her very own.
+
+“Bring them in the dining-room where we may all see them,” called Mrs.
+Eaton as she poured the coffee. “Breakfast is ready, girls. What a
+beautiful display!” she added admiringly, gazing at the arm-loads of
+blossomy baskets that Grandfather and Aunt Elsie were helping arrange
+on the tea-wagon and serving-table that Hannah had hastily cleared.
+
+“I really don’t believe I want any breakfast,” began Polly Wiggles.
+
+“Breakfast first, and baskets next,” ordered her father firmly, giving
+her curls a playful pull as she hovered like some new species of
+bright-hued butterfly over the flowers. “We look like a busy florist’s
+shop. In ten minutes the table may be in demand as a resting-place for
+more posies, and if many more baskets come in, we shall have to move
+out to make room for them. So come along, youngsters, and eat a good
+breakfast while you can.”
+
+“I’m really not a bit hungry,” protested Jeannette, seating herself
+reluctantly, and languidly spooning her grapefruit.
+
+“Remember that luncheon will not be till after one, as the parade only
+starts at twelve-thirty,” warned Mrs. Eaton, buttering a muffin for the
+wee bear.
+
+“Yes, and the luncheon will be a cold one,” added Dr. Eaton, looking
+up from his bacon and eggs. “Now I want you to eat a good hot
+breakfast like healthy, hungry girls, and not a nibble here and there
+like--like----”
+
+“’Quirrels,” prompted Cubby brightly, twisting about to gaze lovingly
+at her own pretty baskets. “’Quirrels like to nibble, Daddy.”
+
+“So squirrels do,” agreed her father with a shake of his head. “And so
+do Cubby bears, and medium-sized bears, and great big bears as well.”
+
+“What a hard-hearted man you are,” mourned Polly Wiggles with an
+affectionate glance. “Here you are, cruelly ordering about a Queen,
+when I should by rights be seated on a golden throne, eating----”
+
+“Bread and honey,” piped up Cubby, who knew her Mother Goose.
+
+“Yes, honey, and nightingale tongues and delicacies like that,” agreed
+Polly Wiggles recklessly. “Not bacon and eggs--oh, my, no! My appetite
+is too delicate.” She paused to butter a second muffin as she spoke,
+while Cubby listened with rapture to this nonsensical talk. “Then if
+Dr. Eaton, my court physician, ordered such coarse, common food,” she
+resumed scornfully, “I would merely say with a wave of my golden
+scepter, ‘Off with his head,’ and my subjects would fly to do my
+bidding.”
+
+“I’d probably order a tonic for that delicate appetite,” returned Dr.
+Daddy cheerfully, quite unmoved by Jeannette’s beseeching glance as
+Hannah served her with cocoa. “Drink your cocoa, Jet, and, speaking of
+flying, I must haste away to see some patients, so farewell, my fairy
+fays; I’ll see you later.”
+
+Breakfast at last came to an end, and the children flew to examine the
+lovely flower-laden baskets.
+
+“Here, let’s divide them,” Polly Wiggles suggested, clearing a space
+for her own share and inspecting the attached cards. “Gracious, Jet,
+you popular young lady; here’s five--seven--ten baskets for you, all
+beauties, and two apiece for Grandma and Mother, and three for Aunt
+Elsie.”
+
+“I never dreamed there would be so many, did you? Nevertheless it seems
+to me you have the lion’s share yourself,” Jeannette returned gayly.
+“Twelve baskets, no less, and oh, Wiggles, just look at that gorgeous
+basket of Aunt Elsie’s. It’s the loveliest I’ve ever seen.”
+
+“I wonder who sent it?” demanded the May Queen with a roguish smile,
+as she eyed approvingly the dainty white basket filled with glowing,
+velvety Jack roses. “It’s a perfect beauty. Look, Jet, the handle is
+made out of pussy-willows. Did you ever see anything so dear?”
+
+“There’s a card, too,” announced Jeannette, pouncing upon it before
+Aunt Elsie had the chance. “Oh, ho, I thought so. It says, ‘Bob,’ and,
+though my manners forbid my looking, I’ll bet a cookie that there is a
+written message on the other side.”
+
+“Look at her blush,” twinkled Polly Wiggles mischievously, adding in
+a confidential aside to Jeannette, as Aunt Elsie hastily claimed her
+baskets and bore them up-stairs to the privacy of her own room, “Do you
+know, I think that Mr. Burnett likes Aunt Elsie, ’cause, ever since he
+rescued Cubby, he keeps coming here all the time. He says he comes to
+see Daddy,” she finished scornfully, “but almost always Daddy’s out,
+and I notice he stays and talks to Aunt Elsie.”
+
+“Polly Wiggles, I didn’t think anything could be lovelier than my lilac
+basket, but this one of yours is perfectly exquisite,” Grandmother
+Carr said, speaking up from the window-seat, where she and Mrs.
+Eaton had comfortably ensconced themselves to act as audience to the
+“flower-show.” She held up, as she spoke, a graceful birch-bark basket
+shaped like a canoe, in which were growing delicate maidenhair ferns
+and yellow and lavender wild orchids.
+
+Mrs. Eaton gave an exclamation of delight and stooped to examine it
+more closely. “This looks like the young naturalist’s handiwork,” she
+cried admiringly, as she touched the nodding moccasin-flowers with
+caressing fingers.
+
+“Yes, I’m sure that’s from Gabriel,” returned Polly Wiggles, giving it
+a swift glance, “’cause no one else could ever find those flowers. But
+look at Jeannette’s, it’s lovely, too.”
+
+Jeannette exhibited with pride a round birch-bark basket filled with
+tiny woodland ferns and pearly-white hyacinths whose fragrance filled
+the dining-room.
+
+“Sure there are no snakes concealed within either one?” inquired
+Grandpa, shrinking away in mock alarm. “Or spiders, or angleworms, or
+any other of those dear little creatures that you girls so adore?”
+
+Wiggles dimpled at a sudden recollection as she thrust her rosy face
+amid the fragrant blossoms and drew a breath of sweetness from their
+perfumed bells.
+
+“Gabriel promised cross-his-heart that he wouldn’t,” she retorted,
+jumping up to examine a lavender-fluted creation brimming with pink and
+orchid sweet peas. “But, Grandfather, wouldn’t it have been _dreadful_
+if we had found that snake in one of these lovely baskets, as he had
+planned at first?” Her tone was tragic, and her grandfather chuckled at
+the idea. “Just imagine Grandmother’s face if it had slithered out----”
+
+“Ugh, don’t speak of it,” shuddered Jeannette, making a wry face at the
+idea. “It makes me feel shivery even to talk about it. Look at this
+darling basket woven of green reeds and filled with daffodils, instead.
+Isn’t it a picture?”
+
+Her grandfather privately thought that the two graceful girls in their
+dainty morning-dresses were the prettiest part of the picture, but he
+duly admired the daffodils, while Wiggles hopped up and down on one
+foot, and shook with some sudden amusement.
+
+“Oh, Jet, I’m certain-sure that’s the one Hugh made for you, and you
+alone,” she teased, inspecting the pretty basket critically. Then
+she clasped her hands and posed dramatically. “He did it with his
+lily-white hands, all for you,” she declaimed; breaking off hurriedly
+as Jeannette, with a very red face, chased her around the table. “Help,
+help, the Queen is being assassinated. Ouch, let go of my hair.”
+
+“Then don’t be a silly,” retorted Jeannette, firmly clutching the thick
+black curls that held her agile sister an unwilling captive, while Mrs.
+Eaton and Grandmother shook with laughter. “Mother says it’s silly to
+act sentimental about boys----”
+
+“And so it is,” acknowledged Polly Wiggles, frankly catching her
+sister in an unguarded moment and whisking under her arm and out of
+reach. “But I don’t mean it in that silly way.”
+
+“Just the same, it _is_ silly,” insisted Jeannette loftily, “’cause you
+know as well as I do, Elizabeth Eaton, that we’re all good friends and
+he likes us all.”
+
+But Polly Wiggles was in a teasing mood. “Of course he likes us
+all,” she persisted, “and I don’t mean a silly sentimental like--But
+everybody knows that Hugh thinks you’re the nicest girl he knows. Why,
+even Marion said herself that you were the only one he was going to
+make a May-basket for. However, if you prefer to think it was from some
+unknown admirer--” She paused abruptly at sound of the front-door bell,
+and darted out into the hall, followed by Jeannette, where they nearly
+collided with fat Mandy, whose face was all agrin as she waddled toward
+the dining-room with more flower-baskets.
+
+“The most scrumptious baskets of all is these Ah’m totin’ in,” she
+breathed gustily, as she placed them carefully on the table and stood
+with arms akimbo to admire the offerings to her “babies.” “And
+pell-mell down the road like a skyclome went dat yeller-haired Harrison
+boy, pert as a cricket, while dat handsome-looking Prince Donald, who
+is Miss Marie’s own boy, was a-dodgin’ and slippin’ round back of the
+trees over yonder, but I seen him jest the same.”
+
+Nothing could induce Mandy to call Donald anything but Prince Donald
+or Prince Charming after having heard the children’s chatter about the
+Enchanted Palace. “’Cause he holds hisself like a Prince and walks
+proud like one,” she had insisted when Mrs. Eaton questioned her about
+it. “He’s the one dat ought to be May King, even if he don’t go to
+dat school, though, I must say, dat Allan Harrison is a fine looker,
+too. But any one with two eyes can see dat Miss Marie’s boy is quality
+through and through, and has hobnobbed with the best in the land, yas,
+ma’am.”
+
+“These certainly are the handsomest baskets of all,” admitted Grandpa
+Carr, as every one came hurrying to see them.
+
+There were two baskets for Elizabeth and one for Jeannette, and it
+was hard to choose the prettiest. Jeannette’s basket was of pale-blue
+wicker, overflowing with pink sweet peas and blue forget-me-nots, while
+huge bows of shimmering blue-satin ribbon fluttered from the handle,
+which was twined with pink buds.
+
+Elizabeth’s basket was of wicker, too, but it was the most delicate
+shade of pink, and shaped like a big heart. Inside were hundreds of
+tiny pink Sweetheart roses and sprays of valley lilies that showered
+their perfumed sweetness through all the room. A twisted garland of
+moss rosebuds and smilax outlined the basket and formed the handle,
+while, tied to the top with long streamers of airy pink gauze, was a
+little verse which Polly Wiggles read aloud:
+
+  “A poet might try to write verses most fair,
+  In praise of your dimples, your eyes, and your hair,
+  But on this glad day,
+  Allegiance I pay,
+  And render you homage, fair Queen of the May.”
+
+“Now who has an unknown admirer, I’d like to know?” jeered Jeannette,
+doubling up with mirth at her sister’s blushing confusion. “No one has
+written poetry about my dimples and hair, and--and--I’m ‘going into the
+garden and eat worms,’” she finished laughingly. “Now, do let’s see
+this basket that’s shrouded in tissue paper. It looks interesting.”
+
+“Oh it _is_ lovely,” squealed Wiggles, holding up a melon-shaped basket
+made entirely out of purple double violets and lined with lemon-yellow
+tea-roses. “Dear me, I don’t know which is prettier. Just look at these
+yellow and violet gauze butterflies on the handle, Mother; their wings
+quiver like honest-truly butterflies.”
+
+“And, bless my soul, if there isn’t another rhyme,” Grandma Carr added,
+pointing to a twist of paper thrust in the midst of the dewy violets.
+“Your friends seem to be poetically inclined. Read it out, my dear.”
+
+“Yes, _do_ read it out,” implored Billy and Dick, appearing suddenly
+from the kitchen with their hands filled with cookies from Mandy’s
+cookie-jar. “’Scuse us, Aunt Jean and Grandma, for helping ourselves,
+but we made ourselves at home ’cause we were hungry, and we knew you
+wouldn’t want us to starve on your doorsteps.”
+
+Mrs. Eaton laughed at their nonsense, while Polly Wiggles hastily
+pocketed the first note and tried to keep the other from Billy’s grasp.
+
+“No fair, no fair, go ’long with you,” she cried, as Dick joined the
+attacking party. “It’s the Queen’s privilege to read her notes in
+private.”
+
+“You won’t be Queen till this afternoon,” objected Dick as an excuse.
+“Ah, be a sport.”
+
+“Yes, be a sport,” mimicked Billy teasingly, as he captured the paper
+and waved it tantalizingly above her head. “As your older male relative
+I consider this my solemn duty. It hurts me more than it does you, but
+you know,
+
+  “My own convenience counts as nil;
+  It is my duty, and I will,’”
+
+he quoted from the Bab Ballads in self-defense. “Now, let me see.” He
+glanced at the note in his hand with a ferocious frown. “Ah, ha, I
+thought so; some miserable unworthy knave is writing to our noble Queen
+in verse, without the Lord Chancellor’s permission. Call forth the
+guard!”
+
+“Oh, Billy, let me see it,” coaxed Polly Wiggles imploringly. “I don’t
+believe it says a single thing.”
+
+“You don’t? Well, keep your hands off and I’ll read it out loud. Just
+listen to this tender effusion:
+
+  “My every thought a butterfly,
+  That, wafted by my eager sigh,
+  Would spread its wings of palest hue,
+  And far away would fly--to you.”
+
+“What do you think of that, Aunt Jean? No one sends me things like
+that,” put in Dick plaintively. “Who sent it?”
+
+“How should I know?” retorted Polly Wiggles coolly, much amused because
+she knew that both boys were racking their brains to try and think who
+it might be.
+
+“I think it’s lovely,” said Jeannette loyally. “It’s lots better than
+most valentines.”
+
+“But I refuse to allow my youthful cousin to receive such missives,”
+returned Billy with a grandfatherly air, as he pocketed the note for
+his own private purposes, hoping he would be able to find out whose
+handwriting it was. “Now, what I really came to say was, that it is
+eleven o’clock, and Marion called out to say that she and Alice and
+Kitty would be over in fifteen minutes, as they were going to dress
+here. So unless our fair Queen wants to be left behind, methinks she’d
+better skedaddle and don her glad rags. Don said the chariot would be
+at the gate for you at twelve, and three-quarters of an hour will be
+far too short a time for you girls to primp.”
+
+Polly Wiggles swept a low curtsy. “The Queen will bid you all good day,
+she goes to don her fine array; in coronation robes of state, she’ll
+meet you later at the gate. But she would warn that you, as well, had
+better hustle home pell-mell, and don your suits of Lincoln green,
+or else I fear you’ll not be seen, as Courtiers your Queen to aid,
+a-marching in the big parade,” she chanted extemporaneously as she
+mounted the stair-case.
+
+It was not until she reached the top, and the ringing of the doorbell
+announced the arrival of the Maids of Honor, that Billy discovered that
+the note which he had tucked in his pocket--was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY
+
+THE MAY FROLIC
+
+
+The grandfather clock was striking twelve as Donald ran lightly up the
+front steps of The Lilacs, and hurried on into the hall. He paused at
+the foot of the winding staircase to gaze appreciatively at the pretty
+scene above.
+
+“An artist ought to paint that and call it ‘Spring,’” he thought to
+himself as he admired the bevy of laughing girls who were clustered
+in an animated group on the landing above, entirely unaware of his
+presence. He drew farther back into a shadowy corner as Jet jumped up
+from the window-seat where she had been comfortably ensconced as she
+listened to the laughing chatter and good-natured banter that was going
+on, and straightened the cherry-blossom wreath on her long dark curls.
+
+Through the casement-windows a straying sunbeam peeped in, making
+a glory of Marion’s ruddy locks and bringing out glints of gold in
+Alice’s fair hair until it looked like a nimbus about her head.
+
+“Is my wreath on straight?” inquired Marion anxiously, shaking out
+her gauzy green ruffles as Alice leaned over to arrange the wreath of
+apple-blossoms she was wearing.
+
+Jeannette eyed her admiringly. “Yes, trust Alice for arranging it
+artistically, and in those pale-green net dresses over the green slips,
+and with those snowy blossoms in your hair, you and Alice look exactly
+like wood nymphs.”
+
+“Are you intimately acquainted with many wood nymphs?” quizzed Kitty
+mischievously, as she bent her own head, with its short brown curls, so
+that Jet could settle the pink cherry-blossom wreath to her liking.
+
+Marion with a hand on the banisters, paused to glance back over
+her shoulder. “I _love_ your green dresses over the pink, with the
+cherry-blossom crowns,” she exclaimed enthusiastically. “It was such a
+pretty idea having two of us in green and white, and two in green and
+pink, and I’m so glad they decided this way, ’cause pink would have
+sworn at my hair.”
+
+“If we look like wood nymphs,” Alice added approvingly, “you and
+Kitty-Cat certainly look like dryads, and Elizabeth looks like a rose
+that had come to life.”
+
+“Who’s talking about me? My ears burn,” Polly Wiggles cried gayly, and
+Donald caught his breath at the dainty vision that floated down the
+polished stairs as lightly as a rose-petal borne along by the breezes.
+
+Never had Elizabeth looked sweeter than in the dainty pink-net frock,
+with its fluttering pink ribbons, and slippers and socks to match.
+Donald thought that Alice’s description had been a good one, for she
+did look like a very rosebud of a girl, in her gauzy gown with its
+petal-shaped rosy ruffles. A high-pointed coronet of pink rosebuds
+crowned the dusky mass of curls that framed the soft oval of her
+face. Half-way down the stairs she paused shyly, while the rose color
+deepened in her cheeks, as she spied Donald for the first time, and saw
+the admiration in his dark eyes.
+
+“Laws sake, if mah baby don’t look sweet enough to eat,” chuckled
+Mandy, popping her bandanna-covered head out from the pantry, with
+Hannah peeping from behind. “You-all looks powahful handsome in those
+get-ups, jest like a bunch o’ posies. Heah’s Prince Donald a-waiting to
+see you, honey.”
+
+Donald looked puzzled as he saw the startled glances the girls
+exchanged at Mandy’s remark, and he wondered anew why she always
+addressed him as “Prince.” It was not the first time. He had noticed
+it before on several occasions, and once even Alice had inadvertently
+blurted out “Prince Cha--” when speaking to him, and then quickly
+corrected her mistake.
+
+“It’s a lowly prince who humbly kneels before the Queen of May,” he
+protested half laughing, as he sank to one knee. “Prithee tell me, fair
+Queen, why does yon dusky damsel dub me ‘Prince’? It makes me feel
+exactly like a collie pup,” he explained ruefully, with a quick glance
+upward.
+
+Much to his astonishment, Polly Wiggles was plainly confused, but she
+recovered her composure almost immediately and shot a warning glance
+at Alice, who turned a giggle into a cough.
+
+“Oh, oh,--I s’pose Mandy thinks you have hobnobbed with all kinds
+of royalty because you’ve lived abroad so much,” she stammered with
+heightened color, giving him a swift glance. “How nice he looks!”
+thought Polly Wiggles, as she noticed with approval the immaculate
+white-linen suit he was wearing. “It’s silly of me to blush like a
+goose over Mandy’s remark, but I _can’t_ tell him that we called him
+Prince Charming. It would sound too silly,--and yet some day some one
+of us is going to call him that to his face and feel like going through
+the floor.”
+
+A sudden idea flashed into her mind. “Don’t you think Donald should
+be rewarded, or knighted or something, for offering us the chariot?”
+she asked meaningly, turning to the others. They seized the idea with
+enthusiasm.
+
+“Dub him ‘Sir,’ or ‘Lord,’ or--or ‘Prince,’” suggested Jeannette
+daringly, suppressing a smile at her sister’s ready wit.
+
+“I dub you Prince Donald,” Polly Wiggles announced solemnly, as she
+tapped him lightly on the shoulder with the rose-garlanded silver
+scepter she carried. “Now if we do call him ‘Prince’ by mistake, it
+won’t sound so funny,” she reflected with secret satisfaction.
+
+Donald entered into the spirit of make-believe with due solemnity.
+
+“I thank you for the honor, O Queen,” he responded, producing a package
+from his pocket which the girls eyed curiously. “Many leagues have
+I traversed, and many dangers have I overcome, to bring to you this
+casket containing baubles which I offer at your feet. Though they are
+unworthy of a Queen’s attention, still, if they might deck the royal
+party on this great gala day, it would bring joy and gladness to the
+one who sends them, my mother, the Fairy Godmother who dwells at the
+Enchanted Castle of White Birches.”
+
+It was coincidence, of course, that his laughing reply should border
+so closely on their own fancy of the Enchanted Palace and the Fairy
+Godmother, but to the girls it was little short of miraculous.
+
+“How did he know? I’m beginning to think he honestly _is_ a fairy
+Prince,” Marion breathed in Jeannette’s ear.
+
+“Oh, Queen of May, I offer you this treasure-casket and trust it may
+please your Royal Highness,” continued Donald, banging his head three
+times on the lower step, and rising to his feet as he handed her a
+pink-satin box.
+
+“What does he mean? What’s in the box?” demanded Kitty, laughing at his
+foolishness. “Oh, look at the cunning white-kid cases inside!”
+
+With eager fingers the girls explored the dainty cases marked with
+their names.
+
+“A string of pearls for each one of us to wear! Isn’t that lovely!”
+breathed Jeannette rapturously, as she lifted the gleaming string from
+the pink jeweler’s cotton. Then clasping it about her throat, she ran
+to the hall-mirror to admire the effect.
+
+Polly Wiggles gave a little cry of pleasure. “My pearls are just the
+color of my dress,” she exclaimed happily, holding up a necklace of
+tiny pink pearls for them all to admire. “I just love them, Donald, and
+it was dear of your mother to give us such a delightful surprise. She
+certainly is a real Fairy Godmother.”
+
+“What did I tell you?” crowed Alice under her breath, as she bent to
+fasten the strap of her white slipper. Again the glance flashed about,
+and Donald, who had heard the whisper, felt more puzzled than ever.
+
+“There’s some kind of a joke,” he reflected sagely, “and I’ll need to
+turn detective to find out what it is, for they’ll never tell me.”
+
+“Girls, do come and see the chariot,” called Aunt Elsie
+enthusiastically from the veranda. “It’s a perfect beauty.”
+
+There was a laughing scramble as the five excited girls, with all royal
+dignity forgotten, rushed pell-mell for the front door. As he sauntered
+along behind, a confused babel of delighted comment floated back to
+Donald’s ears.
+
+“Oh, oh, did you ever----?”
+
+“Like a real Cinderella coach.”
+
+“All made of pink roses.”
+
+“The loveliest thing I ever saw.”
+
+Polly Wiggles’ smile alone well repaid Donald for all the time and
+labor he had spent in decorating the basket-carriage that had once been
+a mere pony cart, but which his clever fingers had transformed into a
+flower-chariot fit for Titania herself.
+
+Hundreds of pink tissue-paper roses had been used to conceal the
+original carriage, which was now a bower of rosy bloom. Great garlands
+of rose-pink buds twined the wheels and festooned the white reins and
+harness, while pink plumes nodded behind the ears of Snow Queen and
+White Beauty, as they tossed their snowy manes and impatiently pawed
+the ground.
+
+“You look like a fairy Princess,” he murmured admiringly, as he helped
+Polly Wiggles into the huge pink rose that formed her seat high above
+the others, while the Maids of Honor grouped themselves about her.
+
+“I feel more like a Rose Princess,” she dimpled in amusement, as she
+gazed with delight at the canopy of rose-petals that shielded her
+from the sun. “Where did you ever get all these roses? There must be
+thousands.”
+
+“We made them,” Donald explained, as he seated himself at her feet and
+gathered up the reins.
+
+“Oh, are you coming with us?” inquired Marion in surprise.
+
+Donald shot her an amused glance. “Who did you suppose was going to
+drive? You girls couldn’t, all dressed up in those mermaidy-looking
+dresses, so Miss Helen appointed me official coachman,” he returned
+with satisfaction. “Are you all comfortably settled now? If you
+are, we’d better trot along unless we want to be late. Every one is
+assembling at the Post Office, and it’s well past twelve now.”
+
+[Illustration: HE HELPED POLLY WIGGLES INTO THE LARGE PINK ROSE THAT
+FORMED HER SEAT.--_Page 299._]
+
+Cubby, standing on the front porch, strained her eyes until the
+flower-coach was a mere speck in the distance. Then she trotted happily
+in the house to ask endless questions of every one she met. She kept
+up a running chatter of excited comment all the while she was being
+dressed in her daintiest frock, and danced down at the sound of her
+grandfather’s voice, with a beaming face and starry eyes.
+
+“Well, well, if little Miss Snippets isn’t all dressed up in her
+bestest frock, too,” teased Grandfather, as she trotted at his heels.
+
+“You ought to see the crowd that has collected,” he continued, turning
+to the others. “When I came from the village a few minutes ago, the
+streets were lined with carriages and automobiles, and it looks as if
+every one and his daddy is out. I do believe that all Meadowbrook and
+the surrounding towns have gathered for the fun, and I noticed several
+photographers. I never dreamed that a children’s parade would be such a
+source of interest.”
+
+Aunt Elsie hurried down the stairs, hastily tucking in a few stray
+hairpins. “Let’s go out on the lawn,” she suggested, leading the way to
+the rustic seats that James had placed for them on the grass. They were
+joined by Mrs. MacAllister, who settled down cozily beside Mrs. Eaton.
+
+“Helen told me,” she explained to the others, “that all the
+surrounding towns had been invited, and, from the appearance of the
+avenue, it looks as if all invitations had been accepted. Many families
+are making a picnic of it, and will bring lunch and spend the day in
+the meadows, where seats have been arranged so that they can see the
+coronation afterward. It really has been planned very well. There is
+parking space for vehicles, and, in addition to the games and races
+by the children, the Meadowbrook team will have a ball-game in the
+afternoon. It’s really a gala day, and every one is interested in
+making it a success.”
+
+“Yes,” replied Aunt Elsie, picking up Boots, who had followed her out,
+“there is considerable talk of having the parade every year and calling
+it ‘The Children’s Day,’ if this is a success. I think it would be a
+lovely scheme.”
+
+“So do I,” responded Mrs. MacAllister vivaciously; “and I think it was
+a splendid plan, asking the cottagers to decorate. Won’t that long
+line of lanterns down the avenue look lovely when they’re lighted
+for the return parade at dusk? Sam is putting ours up now, and your
+place looks very festive.” She glanced about as she spoke, at the long
+strings of bobbing lanterns that James had festooned from tree to tree
+all about the grounds.
+
+“Listen! What’s that?” cried Mrs. Eaton, holding up a warning finger.
+Far down the road they could hear a faint strain of music and the tramp
+of marching feet. Cubby squirmed with impatience and clambered up on
+her grandfather’s knee, holding her breath with eagerness as the sound
+came nearer and nearer.
+
+“It’s the Meadowbrook Fife and Drum Corps that they invited to lead the
+parade,” volunteered Grandma Carr. “Hark, there’s a bugle. That must be
+Gabriel, riding before as Herald. Look, look, Cubby; here they come.”
+
+Cubby folded her chubby hands and stared with eyes like full moons.
+
+Gabriel dashed ahead on a fat brown pony, blowing a bugle and
+announcing importantly with every toot, “Make way for the Queen of May,
+make way for the Queen of May,” though no one made any effort to block
+the road.
+
+Four abreast, the Meadowbrook Fife and Drum Corps marched next, with
+the sun flashing on their bugles and on the rows of gilt braid that
+trimmed the leaf-green uniforms they wore. They played so valiantly
+that it was hard to keep from marching in time to the stirring strains,
+and Cubby’s foot went tap-tapping against her chair while ecstatic
+shivers ran down her spine.
+
+At Miss Helen’s suggestion the sewing-classes at the school had made
+Lincoln-green costumes for the King and his attendants. It gave a
+picturesque effect to the parade, and as Dick, Billy, and Hugh went
+marching past, with heads in the air and faces all agrin, as they kept
+step to the rat-a-tat-tat of the drummer, they made a fine showing.
+As body-guard to the King and Queen, they carried the bows and arrows
+that were to be used in the archery contest later, and it looked as
+if Robin Hood and his merry men from Sherwood Forest had descended on
+Meadowbrook for the day.
+
+King Allan, blond as a young Viking, rode a prancing black horse that
+curveted and danced each time the music started.
+
+There was a flutter of handkerchiefs all along the avenue as he came
+in sight, followed by cheers from the friendly crowd as the Queen’s
+coach, with its snow-white ponies, appeared.
+
+“Isn’t she a picture?” whispered Mrs. MacAllister, waving frantically,
+as the May Queen, seated in the heart of the big pink rose, rode by,
+nodding and smiling shyly to the interested bystanders.
+
+“And don’t the Maids of Honor look sweet and springy in those cool
+green dresses?” demanded Grandmother Carr, as she smiled and waved at
+the little girls whose faces beamed with delight, and who fluttered
+their handkerchiefs in return, regardless of royal etiquette, till the
+coach was out of sight.
+
+“Don was pleased as Punch to drive them. It would have been rather
+hard to have been out of all the fun,” Mrs. MacAllister continued
+reflectively. “Look at these lovely Maypoles. There must be a dozen at
+least.”
+
+There were pink Maypoles and blue Maypoles, and yellow, green,
+and lavender Maypoles, as well as a red-white-and-blue, and a
+rainbow-shaded one, so that Cubby found it difficult to decide
+which was the prettiest. In their light-colored summer dresses the
+schoolgirls looked like a flock of brilliant-colored butterflies
+as they fluttered about the poles, holding fast to the long satin
+streamers. Behind them marched the boys, carrying gay-colored balloons
+that floated through the air like enormous soap-bubbles.
+
+“There goes the most important part of the parade,” chuckled Grandpa
+Carr, as a big wagon, driven by a laughing crowd of schoolteachers,
+brought up the rear, loaded to the brim with baskets of lunch.
+
+“Speaking of lunch,” began Mrs. MacAllister quickly, as she rose from
+her seat, “our luncheon no doubt awaits us now, and if we want to be
+present at the Queen’s coronation--” She paused suggestively and smiled
+at the wee bear, who slid from her grandfather’s knee in a hurry,
+anxious for the “party” to begin. Only pausing long enough to send
+Boots back to the house, the little party strolled across the road to
+White Birches.
+
+It was a glorious day for Cubby. To be an invited guest at a
+real luncheon party would have been wonderful in itself, but Mrs.
+MacAllister had planned the entire luncheon with a thought to her small
+guest’s enjoyment. So the first thing that greeted their eyes, as they
+entered the paneled dining-room, was a wreath of pink roses suspended
+above the table. From the wreath fluttered long pink Maypole ribbons
+that were fastened at each place to pink basket-favors filled with
+candied rose-leaves.
+
+Donald, who had hurried home after leaving the May party at their
+destination, seated Cubby with as much ceremony as if she had been
+forty instead of “going on four,” and entertained her with such a
+grown-up conversation that her heart was filled with delight, and she
+even felt sorry for Jet and Wiggles, who were missing this good time.
+
+Anxious to correct the impression she had made by her naughtiness
+before, she copied her grandmother’s dignified manner to perfection,
+but nothing escaped the notice of her dancing brown eyes. Mrs.
+MacAllister had to repress a smile as she cleared her throat in
+unconscious imitation of her mother, and ate her roll with Aunt
+Elsie’s very gestures.
+
+“What an unconscious little actress that child is!” she thought,
+catching Mrs. Eaton’s amused glance, as she eyed the small mimic, who
+was on her best behavior and acting like a baby seraph.
+
+Everything that the wee bear liked best appeared at that lovely May
+Day luncheon, and when ice-cream forms frozen into big pink roses were
+served, her dark eyes sparkled with delight. Her cup of joy was filled
+when Mrs. MacAllister opened a little white case, and clasped about her
+neck a short string of small pink pearls, almost exactly like those
+that Elizabeth had received.
+
+“It is lovely of you, Marie, to give the children so much pleasure,”
+Mrs. Eaton said, as Cubby lifted her face to Mrs. MacAllister for a
+kiss.
+
+“If you knew what a pleasure it was to me,” responded Mrs. MacAllister,
+rising from the table and leading the way into the hall. “You know I’ve
+threatened before to steal your girls.”
+
+Sam, Mrs. MacAllister’s chauffeur, had the automobile ready and
+waiting at the door to take them all to the coronation, but Cubby,
+proudly fingering her pearls with one hand, stopped short on the steps
+to dance up and down and clap her hands with joy, for, coming up the
+driveway, was the Queen’s rose chariot, with Donald driving.
+
+“I promised I’d take you riding with the ponies, and I’m keeping my
+promise,” he reminded her with a merry glance, as she danced down the
+steps and clambered up into the Queen’s rose seat. “Now hold tight so
+you don’t tumble out, and we’ll get there in a jiffy.”
+
+“Look at that child’s rapt face,” exclaimed Mrs. MacAllister from the
+car, as the ponies trotted down the broad avenue, with Cubby waving
+ecstatic farewells.
+
+Over at the picnic-grounds time had slipped by rapidly. After the
+basket-luncheons had been eaten, King Allan and Queen Elizabeth were
+escorted with pomp and ceremony to their flowery thrones and the real
+merrymaking began.
+
+Donald and Evelyn, followed by the automobile, arrived just in time,
+for the coronation was about to begin. They were fortunate in finding
+parking space near the scene of the ceremonies, where they could watch
+all that passed.
+
+It was a pretty sight. Billy, as master of ceremonies, knelt
+respectfully before the King and Queen, and then, advancing down the
+aisle formed by the Courtiers and Maids of Honor, he fastened a silver
+star to the Queen’s coronet, and placed a crown on the King’s blond
+hair.
+
+Over the children’s heads dogwood branches formed an arching canopy of
+starry white blossoms, while every breeze carried from near-by orchards
+the delicious perfume of crab-apple and plum blossoms that filled the
+air with fragrance.
+
+Then, in rapid succession there were potato and sack races,
+high-jumping contests, and archery and target-shooting, while the
+school classes competed in drills and folk-dancing on the green turf.
+The enthusiastic audience, that crowded the meadows and golf links
+beyond, applauded vigorously each time a winner advanced to the throne
+to receive a prize from the May Queen’s hands.
+
+Cubby sat as upright as her swaying seat would allow, beaming on the
+world impartially and hoping every one would know that the May Queen
+was her big sister. Her eyes danced with delight when Alice received a
+bow and a quiver of arrows as the prize-winner in the archery contest,
+and when Billy advanced to receive a camera for the best high jump. Her
+happiest moment came when Donald, whom she greatly admired, and who had
+been invited by Miss Helen to try his hand at target-shooting, knelt at
+the Queen’s feet to receive for his clever marksmanship the tiny gold
+pin, shaped like a rifle, that Polly Wiggles fastened to his coat.
+
+“Say, aren’t the prizes fine? The teachers gave them all,” puffed Dick,
+appearing suddenly, hot and dirty, at the automobile door with a huge
+watermelon in his arms.
+
+“Where _did_ you get that?” demanded Mrs. MacAllister much amused. Dick
+fished first in one pocket and then in the other, finally producing a
+much-soiled handkerchief with which he wiped his flushed face, adding
+to its smudgy appearance.
+
+“I won it in a pie-eating contest,” he announced proudly, placing
+the watermelon carefully on the running-board of the car and seating
+himself beside it. “Say, but isn’t it hot? I ate nine small pies, and
+Gabriel ate seven. I won the melon, and he got a box of candy, but
+somehow we don’t seem to feel very hungry.”
+
+“I should think not,” gasped Grandmother Carr in horror. “What will
+you do next? You’ll probably die with indigestion to-night. I must
+confess that I agree with Polly Wiggles when she says, ‘Aren’t boys the
+queerest?’”
+
+“Don’t you worry about Dick,” put in Mrs. MacAllister comfortably,
+while Dick’s admiration for her mounted sky-high. “Most boys have
+digestions like ostriches, and the pies probably won’t hurt him at all.
+I remember once when Donald was much younger,” she continued with a
+reminiscent smile, “that he ate four large mince pies, and he’s still
+here to tell the tale.”
+
+“Marion and Jeannette each won a set of books in the potato races,”
+Dick continued hastily, thinking it wise to change the subject, “and
+Hugh got a bully knife in the sack race.”
+
+“How about Kitty?” inquired Aunt Elsie presently. “Seems to me that the
+royal party have walked off with a good many prizes.”
+
+Dick snickered. “See that sour-looking girl over there that looks as
+if she had swallowed a quart of vinegar?” he murmured confidentially,
+pointing to a sullen group just a short distance away. “Well, that’s
+Jane Juggins, with her few particular cronies, and ever since Kitty
+beat her in the obstacle race and won a silver pencil, she’s been sore
+as a boil. Kit’s as light as a feather, you know, and simply sailed
+along like thistle-down, and Jane has worn a particularly black scowl
+ever since. She’s disgruntled, anyway, ’cause she isn’t in the royal
+party.”
+
+Aunt Elsie leaned forward to look, and couldn’t help laughing at Dick’s
+apt description. “There’s a discontented subject, if ever I saw one,”
+she remarked lightly. “She certainly does _not_ love our Polly Wiggles,
+and if black looks were dangerous, the May Queen would need a heavy
+guard.”
+
+“She makes me sick,” growled Dick. “I only wish that Wiggles and Allan
+could have competed in some of the games, but, of course, royalty had
+to act dignified. Look, Aunt Jean, the Maypole dances come next, and
+they are mighty pretty. May I leave the watermelon here while I go over
+to watch the baseball game?”
+
+“Suppose we take it home for you,” suggested Mrs. MacAllister, making
+room for it at her feet.
+
+The day passed like a happy dream for Polly Wiggles. Surrounded by her
+closest friends, not even Jane Juggins’ cutting speeches could bother
+her, though the boys openly laughed each time Jane flounced by with her
+nose in the air.
+
+“You’re beneath her notice,” murmured Allan in a teasing undertone, as
+Jane spoke sweetly to him, and looked right through the May Queen as if
+she did not exist. “Don’t you feel terribly cut up about it?”
+
+“Dreadfully,” sighed Polly Wiggles with a saucy glance at him. “My day
+is quite, quite ruined.”
+
+“I heard her tell one of her friends that you lacked a queenly air,”
+confided Gabriel, appearing from the ball field and passing his candy
+about. “I hope you realize the seriousness of that offense. You should
+take lessons in nose-tilting from the scornful Jane and act as if we
+were the dirt beneath your feet.”
+
+“None but the noble Jane possesses the lofty dignity, the icy stare,
+the haughty carriage, combined with the ‘I know not what,’ that any
+queen who is a queen should possess. Now Wiggles couldn’t manage an
+icy stare if her throne depended on it. I always wondered what it was
+that she lacked, and now, alas, I know,” put in Billy mournfully as he
+helped himself to more candy.
+
+“Oh, but the noble Jane can give coy melting glances, too,” grinned
+Gabriel, shooting a quick glance at Allan, who scowled in response.
+
+Little by little the crowd dispersed. At seven o’clock the line of
+march was resumed, and the parade started its return journey through a
+lane of glowing lanterns and colored fire. Every cottage along the way
+had decorated, in honor of the day, with bunting, and swaying lanterns
+that gleamed through the gathering dusk like enormous scintillating
+fireflies.
+
+White Birches had been turned into a fairyland of colored lights, and
+the children halted a few minutes while Sam, assisted by James, set off
+glowing pinwheels and sparkling flowerpots, with Cubby waving sparklers
+to and fro with a happy though sleepy smile.
+
+In front of the post-office the parade disbanded, and most of the
+children hurried home for hasty suppers. Down in the grove a band
+concert, that would last till nine-thirty, had already begun.
+
+Donald backed the cart up to the sidewalk, and jumped down, almost
+colliding with the “noble Jane,” as Billy insisted on calling her, who
+was hovering near. As he rounded up the royal party, she watched him
+from the corner of her eye, secretly angry because this good-looking
+new boy, with the beautiful ponies, should already be on such friendly
+terms with the group of girls she disliked.
+
+“All the May-Day royalties pile in,” commanded Donald, hurrying back
+with Gabriel and Allan in tow. “We’ll have to squeeze a bit to seat
+eleven, but I’m sure we can manage. No one needs to go home to ask, for
+Mother has already received permission for you all to come to White
+Birches for a little supper party.”
+
+“What fun,” murmured Polly Wiggles, serenely unconscious of Jane’s
+angry glances from behind, as the ponies trotted off with the load of
+laughing young people. “It’s the lovely end to a lovely day, isn’t it,
+Jet?”
+
+“Indeed it is,” Jeannette said smilingly in return, glancing with happy
+dark eyes at her sister. “Why, Donald, where are you taking us?”
+
+No wonder she inquired, for the ponies swept past the big porch, where
+Mrs. MacAllister was entertaining her friends from The Lilacs and Sweet
+Briar, and trotted on down the winding path toward Willow Lake.
+
+“Look, look,” cried Alice, catching Marion’s arm and pointing toward
+the rustic summer-house at the edge of the lake. “Oh, how pretty!”
+
+“It looks like fairyland,” added Kitty, leaning forward to gaze at the
+bobbing lanterns that swung across the little rustic bridge and cast
+fantastic shadows on the round table that had been laid for eleven in
+the pavilion. “I never saw anything so lovely.”
+
+“It looks like a Fairy Godmother’s idea,” breathed Alice, as Billy
+assisted her from the rose coach. “Probably all she did was to wave a
+wand and the table sprang up through the floor, all covered with silver
+and china in readiness for us.”
+
+“And at the stroke of twelve ’twill vanish like a puff of smoke,”
+declared Allan dramatically, snapping his fingers to illustrate.
+
+“Yum-yum, I smell chicken, and I’m hungry. I hope the clock won’t
+strike twelve yet awhile,” said matter-of-fact Marion, interrupting the
+chorus of delighted exclamations.
+
+“The idea of speaking of such a prosaic thing as hunger, when you can
+feast your eyes on an enchanting scene like that,” rebuked Billy from
+the rear. “However, since you have mentioned the subject, let me say
+that I could stand a little solid nourishment myself. A chicken wing to
+gnaw upon, or ‘Only three grains of corn, Mother,’ would help me stay
+the faintness that has come upon me. Lead on, MacDuff.”
+
+“Somebody take this poor starving creature and give him a bowl of
+broth,” sang out Donald, giving Allan a laughing push to lead the way.
+“I’ll be right along, but I have to wait till Sam comes to get the
+ponies.”
+
+Not much urging was necessary, for something did smell wonderfully
+appetizing, and they all were hungry. In the gayest of spirits they
+rushed pell-mell down the marble steps and across the bridge to the
+summer-house, while Donald handed the ponies over to the grinning Sam,
+and turned to help Polly Wiggles, whose floating pink ribbons had
+caught fast to a rosebush. It wasn’t an easy matter to untangle them,
+but at last he was successful.
+
+“Pin them down with this, please do,” he begged eagerly, stooping to
+fasten the little pin he had won to the fluttering ribbons. “There,
+that holds them fast.”
+
+Polly Wiggles surveyed it doubtfully. “But it’s yours,” she objected,
+the color surging in her face as she glanced at him shyly.
+
+“It’s a trophy, won for the Queen in tournament, and she must wear it,”
+he jested, but with an air of finality, as he smiled into the blue eyes
+raised to his.
+
+“Why, if here isn’t Boots!” exclaimed Polly Wiggles in astonishment,
+glancing sharply at a dark object that came purringly forward. “He’s
+come to join the party, too.”
+
+A chorus of calls from the summer-house sent them scurrying to join
+the others at the table, where sandwiches, chicken, and ice-cream were
+appearing as if by magic. There was a clatter of silver and china, and
+a babel of laughing voices that could be heard up on the porch of White
+Birches as the hungry children did justice to the dainty supper that
+Mrs. MacAllister had provided, while the grown-ups smiled in sympathy
+at the peals of infectious laughter.
+
+It was the first time that Polly Wiggles had had a near view of
+Willow Lake, and, sinking down on the circular seat that ran about
+the pavilion, she exclaimed at sight of the loveliness revealed,
+as she pushed aside the tangled wisteria vines and looked dreamily
+across the waters, where moonbeams were cresting the ripples with
+a silvery radiance, and slender white birches leaned down to gaze
+at their own reflections. Through the air came the delicious odor
+of wild honeysuckle and syringa, while showers of pink-and-white
+cherry-blossoms drifted with each puff of the breeze down to the
+rush-bordered banks.
+
+With a tired little sigh the May Queen leaned back in her seat, but
+looked up with a smile as Donald solicitously tucked a cushion behind
+her. “Tired?” he asked sympathetically, amid the laughter and chatter
+about them. “It’s been a pretty busy day for you.”
+
+“How about yourself?” she returned with a merry glance, as she settled
+herself luxuriously against the soft cushion. “I’ll confess I am a wee
+bit tired, but it’s been worth it.”
+
+“Isn’t this fun?” demanded Allan, looking the picture of contentment,
+with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of fruit punch in the other.
+
+  “I drink to the health of Miss Wiggles, our Queen,
+  The loveliest sovereign that ever was seen,”
+
+he proposed, rising with his glass in hand, and bowing low to laughing
+Polly Wiggles.
+
+“How about the fair Maids of Honor?” inquired Kitty coolly, patting
+Boots, that had jumped in her lap. “Don’t they come in for a toast,
+too?”
+
+“Stay your impatience, it’s not polite,” reproved Billy, who had been
+restored to “life and health,” as he expressed it, by several generous
+helpings of sweetbreads and chicken patties. “Now here is a toast to
+those that really deserve the honor,” he drawled teasingly, as he
+lazily rose to his feet.
+
+  “A toast to the Herald, a toast to the King,
+  To Courtiers noble and gallant, I sing--”
+
+  “While for fair Maids of Honor in dainty array,
+  I propose three loud cheers, and a hip-hip hooray,”
+
+added Jeannette rapidly before Billy could finish. She turned as she
+finished to survey her cousin, and couldn’t repress a giggle at sight
+of his astonished face at having the words taken from his mouth.
+
+“See here, youngster, don’t you know that interrupting is against all
+royal etiquette?” he asked in an aggrieved voice. “What I was going to
+say when you so rudely interrupted, was--”
+
+“Don’t say it. Listen to the band concert instead,” Alice advised
+mischievously, pulling him down into his seat. “Doesn’t it sound lovely
+and dreamy at this distance?”
+
+“And just look at the reflection of these beautiful lanterns in the
+water,” added Marion, leaning over the rail of the summer-house to
+admire the many colors that sparkled and shimmered in the clear lake.
+
+Allan jumped up to inspect the decorations more closely. “I never saw
+any like these before,” he said admiringly as he glanced at the array
+of silk lanterns shaped like flowers, fish, and dragons that were
+suspended over his head and swayed with every passing breeze.
+
+“We brought those from Japan with us. I don’t believe you could get
+them over here,” Donald explained, seeing his interest. “Somebody
+throw me a sandwich, please.”
+
+“What a beautiful day we have had!” mused Polly Wiggles softly. “Isn’t
+it a shame that such good times have to end?” She sighed regretfully as
+she listened to the soft whisper of the ripples against the bank, for
+they seemed to murmur mournfully, “All is over, all is over.”
+
+Gabriel looked about glumly. “Yes, all the fun is over, and now we’ll
+have to knuckle down to spelling and history and poetry afternoons,” he
+finished gloomily as he ate his ice-cream with gusto.
+
+“And arithmetic exams come in the very near future,” put in Alice
+dismally as she nibbled a macaroon. “O dear! O dear! How I hate good
+times to end.”
+
+“Cheer up, little one, school closes in another two weeks and we always
+have fun on the last day. I think it’s great that they’ve decided to
+give prizes for the best poems submitted. So let your heart rejoice.
+Maybe you’ll get one,” Billy consoled her, tweaking her blonde locks.
+
+“And maybe I won’t,” she retorted witheringly, but Billy refused to be
+squelched.
+
+“Now Mary Ann, the star pupil doesn’t seem to be worrying about
+exams, or letting the thought interfere with her appetite,” he teased
+wickedly, as Marion started leisurely on her second plate of cream.
+
+“You stop calling me ‘Mary Ann.’ You know how I loathe that name, and
+if you do it any more, I’ll call you Little Willie.”
+
+“Wow, that would be a hard one to live down,” Donald laughed as he
+tossed an olive-pit out on the grass and helped himself to more
+sandwiches. “Somebody tell me, please, why good times are at an end,
+anyway? I should think they were just beginning, with a lovely long
+vacation to look forward to. Just think of the jolly fine times we can
+all have together.”
+
+“What kind of times?” demanded practical Marion, absently twining one
+of Jet’s long brown curls about her finger as she spoke.
+
+“Oh,--all kinds,” put in Dick rather vaguely. “Say, Don, what’s the
+name of that little bit of an island in the middle of Willow Lake? It
+would be a bully place for picnics, wouldn’t it?”
+
+“Great,” Donald responded with enthusiasm as he turned to glance where
+Dick pointed. “You deserve a vote of thanks for such a fine idea. It’s
+called ‘Paradise Island,’ I believe. We’ll paddle out some day and look
+it over, it only takes a few minutes to get there.”
+
+“Isn’t it beautiful? It looks like a Paradise,” murmured Polly Wiggles
+as she gazed at the moonlight flooded wooded island where willow
+branches trailed green boughs down to the water’s edge, and wild azalea
+was a riot of color against the background of green. “Oh, I know what
+we can do!” She sat up suddenly and clapped her hands. “Each one of
+you must tell of the special good time you are looking forward to
+this summer,--in verse.” She glanced about expectantly, and smiled at
+Gabriel’s stricken face.
+
+“Oh, Wiggles,” protested Marion, “that is dreadfully hard to do.”
+
+“No, it isn’t,” insisted the May Queen shaking her curls. “It’s really
+lots of fun, and no one may say a single solitary word till orders
+are obeyed. Verse first,--free speech afterward. I’m still May Queen
+till the clock strikes twelve,” she added mischievously, seeing signs
+of mutiny in Gabriel’s face, “and I _command_ that you all obey. The
+penalty will be a ducking in the lake.”
+
+Gabriel gave an anguished howl. “Here’s where I get a bath,” he
+groaned. “You _know_ I simply _can’t_ make up poetry.”
+
+“Yes you can,” persisted Polly Wiggles encouragingly. “Now all of you
+think hard.”
+
+The silence was profound for a few minutes.
+
+  “I want to go fishing,
+  That’s what I am wishing,”
+
+piped up Dick suddenly. “Now I may talk, may I not, Woggsie? We boys
+could go fishing and then build a camp-fire and cook the fish on stones
+over at the island, isn’t that a wow of a plan? You girls could help
+with the eats of course,” he added hastily.
+
+  “Let’s take some horns to toot on loud,
+  And have a straw-ride for the crowd,
+  We’d stop some place for tea at night,
+  Returning when the moon was bright,”
+
+suggested Jeannette, blushing as every one applauded the idea
+vigorously.
+
+“Oh, that would be bully good fun,” began Gabriel, forgetting orders,
+and looking aghast as Polly Wiggles pointed a stern finger at him.
+“And--and I hope you’ll invite me to come,” he brought out at last
+apologetically amid much mirth.
+
+Billy gave a loud “ahem.”
+
+  “Let’s go on a hot-dog roast,
+  Take marshmallows, too, to toast.
+  Corn and ’taters piping hot,
+  Would taste bully, like as not,”
+
+he proposed, looking about the group and giving a subdued snicker at
+sight of Alice’s and Marion’s anguished expressions. “Cheer up, the
+worst is yet to come,” he hissed dramatically. Alice made a saucy face
+at him.
+
+  “Living pictures we could pose,
+  All dressed up in fancy clothes,
+  Tableaux would be fun, I know,
+  And perhaps we’d make some dough,”
+
+she repeated rapidly with the anxious frown leaving her forehead.
+
+“That’s the best of all,” said Polly Wiggles, much pleased.
+
+“Such slang from the Lady Alice! Where did you pick up such a
+disgusting expression as ‘dough?’” reproved Billy sadly. “Never do such
+slangy words drop from _my_ lips. I fully expected after that choice
+phrase to have you continue thusly:
+
+  “‘It would be a lot of fun,
+  For some Cause, we’d make the mon.’
+
+“However, maybe Mary A--excuse me, Marion, can ’render us a selection.’”
+
+  “I’d propose to give a fair,
+  Boys can work and do their share,”
+
+returned Marion, serenely, giggling at the howl of protest that arose
+from the boys.
+
+Allan munched a bit of candy reflectively.
+
+  “But the boys say, ‘Nay, nay, nay,
+  We’d far rather give a play,’”
+
+he responded swiftly with a laughing glance in Marion’s direction.
+“Hurry up, Don.”
+
+  “Let’s go berrying, I say,
+  Some fine morn at break of day,
+  Take along this happy bunch,
+  Big tin pails, and _lots_ of lunch,”
+
+Donald suggested, seating himself on the rail of the summer-house and
+whistling under his breath.
+
+“All these suggestions sound grand,” Dick said, “and it’s up to us to
+carry them out. But how about the May Queen? Why are you so backward
+about coming forward, Woggsie, are you asleep?”
+
+  “Picnics morning, noon, and night,
+  I’d consider a delight,”
+
+Polly Wiggles suggested stifling a yawn, while Kitty chimed in:
+
+  “Why not start a club? ’Twould be,
+  Lots of fun, as you’ll agree.”
+
+“That would be lovely,” chorused the girls, much pleased at the idea.
+
+“Speak up, Hugh and Gay,” ordered the Queen, giving Gabriel a nudge
+with her scepter. “You two are last.”
+
+“Why, I did give you a rhyme, don’t you remember?” Gabriel protested in
+an injured tone.
+
+“Not a good-time rhyme,” Polly Wiggles objected decidedly. “Hurry up.”
+
+Gabriel pondered desperately.
+
+  “I’d like to tramp around the lakes,
+  And hunt for turtles, bugs, and snakes,”
+
+he volunteered finally, looking thoroughly disgusted when the girls
+shrieked at the idea. “Now what’s the matter with that, I’d like to
+know?”
+
+“You have no tact, my son,” Billy informed him. “Don’t you know that
+such things offend their delicate sensibilities?”
+
+Allan jumped up with determination in his eye. “Into the lake you go,
+Hugh,” he cried grabbing his friend’s auburn thatch of hair while Dick
+seized his feet and a laughing scuffle started. “Do you mean to say
+that _Gay_ can beat you at rhyming?”
+
+“Ouch, let go. You’ve all talked so much that I haven’t had a chance,”
+Hugh excused himself, freeing his hair with a jerk, and searching his
+mind for an idea. “How’s this?
+
+  “Some parties would be fun, I think,
+  With lots to eat and lots to drink!
+
+“Now gimme another glass of punch.”
+
+“Oh, Hugh,” protested Marion in disgust, “don’t you ever think about
+anything but eating? Boys certainly are queer.”
+
+“Well, I think,” Jeannette said, acting as peacemaker, “that we won’t
+be able to complain of our good times being over, if all the lovely
+things happen this summer that we have suggested in our rhymes. Hark,
+Wiggles! Isn’t that Mother calling?”
+
+Sure enough, through the bower of bushes and shrubbery banking the
+terraces that sloped up to the house they could hear, “Elizabeth,
+Jeannette, it’s time to say ‘good-night.’”
+
+“O dear! May Day is over,” sighed the Queen, rising reluctantly.
+
+“We must go, too,” chorused the other girls, jumping to their feet
+regretfully, “but we’ve had a wonderful time.”
+
+Up the path they scampered, pausing at the corner of the big shadowy
+veranda where Mrs. MacAllister was swaying gently to and fro in a
+swinging chair, and she looked up with a smile at their approach.
+
+“We don’t know how to thank you,” began Polly Wiggles gratefully, as
+she stooped to kiss the kind friend who had added so much pleasure to
+the May Day for them all.
+
+“I don’t want you to thank me,” broke in Mrs. MacAllister, smiling at
+the circle of girlish faces. “I want you all to use the ponies and
+boats whenever you wish, and to play in the summer-houses any time.
+I just love to have a crowd of rollicking young people about, and so
+does Donald. You know I told Mrs. Eaton that I’d like to steal her
+daughters, and an even better plan would be to adopt you all,” she
+finished jokingly.
+
+“Yes, do,” agreed Donald eagerly. “Adopt them as godsons and
+goddaughters.”
+
+“And we’ll adopt you as our Fairy Godmother,” Alice put in contentedly.
+
+“I’ll walk across the road with you,” Donald said as the girls, arm in
+arm, skipped down the path between the silvery birch-trees, while the
+boys followed close behind. Over at The Lilacs the lanterns had been
+taken in and all signs of the revelry were over.
+
+“It must be nine-thirty, for the band is playing ‘Good Night, Ladies,’”
+yawned Jeannette as they paused at the gate. “How appropriate. Do sing!”
+
+Up at The Lilacs Mrs. Eaton looked at Grandma Carr and smiled as the
+clear voices rang out in the song, followed by what the boys called
+“The Nightcap Chant,” as shoulder to shoulder they tramped down the
+avenue behind the laughing girls.
+
+  “Good night, lovely maidens, we’re grieving,
+  With sorrow there is no relieving,
+  But the hour is late,
+  Ere you give us the gate,
+  We think it is wise to be leaving,”
+
+they chanted lustily.
+
+As the last strains of the ridiculous song died away, only the rustling
+of the trees and the shrill piping of the crickets broke the stillness
+of the evening as Donald turned to go.
+
+“See you to-morrow,” he said, pausing with his hand on the gate to
+glance back over his shoulder, and Jeannette and Polly Wiggles standing
+with their arms about each other beneath the swaying lilac-bushes,
+waved “good-night.”
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+  Transcriber's Notes:
+
+  Italics are shown thus: _sloping_.
+
+  Variations in spelling and hyphenation are retained.
+
+  Perceived typographical errors have been changed.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78874 ***