Adele Doring of the Sunnyside Club

Promptly at two o’clock Bob Angel and Gertrude Willis arrived at the poorhouse, and on a bench near the gate sat the old couple. How their faces shone when they saw the automobile which was to bear them to the party!

The old lady in bonnet and shawl, and the old man in a well-brushed, though threadbare, coat, and hat, frayed at the edges, arose as Gertrude went forward to greet them. She said afterwards that it was hard for her to keep from throwing her arms about the dear old lady and telling her then and there of the great happiness that was in store for them, but, instead, she kissed the bright, wrinkled face and shook hands with Mr. Quigley, whom she had never met before. Bob had leaped to the ground, and after Gertrude had introduced him to their guests, he carefully helped the old lady to the comfortable back seat and the old man to the front.

Mr. Quigley’s eyes were shining like a boy’s as Bob drove rather slowly down the country road. “Land sakes alive, ma!” he called. “Ain’t this great! Make her go faster, boy. We ain’t a mite afeared.” So Bob put on a bit more speed, and soon they reached the Grackle homestead.

“Well, I swan!” the old man cried when he shook hands with Miss Grackle. “Wonders never will cease, I reckon. If here ain’t Sally Grackle herself, lookin’ younger’n she did when I saw her last.”

Miss Grackle beamed happily as she greeted the Quigleys and led them into the cottage. A moment later Grandpa Dally, as he insisted that every one should call him, arrived in a long-tailed coat which he had first worn at his wedding many years before.

“Well, Della!” he exclaimed when that maiden met him at the door. “So the party day arrived all right. Bless me, but you do look cozy in here! Howdy, Dan Quigley! Mighty glad to see you lookin’ so pert! Hum, ha!” he added, with twinkling eyes, as the two old ladies appeared from the bedroom. “And if these girls aren’t Sally Grackle and Betsy Quigley. You don’t look a minute older’n you did in them days when we used to have parties pretty frequent.”

Suddenly Adele darted into the living-room from the kitchen. “Everybody hide!” she whispered. “Here comes Granny Dorset, and when she gets well settled I will say ‘Ahem,’ and then you are all to spring out and call ‘Happy Birthday!’”

What a scurrying there was! Grandpa Dally hid behind the open door, Mr. Quigley squeezed himself into a closet, and Mrs. Quigley and Miss Grackle went into the bedroom.

Bob and Jack helped Granny Dorset into the pleasant living-room, and she looked about her in speechless amazement as she sank into the comfortable rocker in a sunny window. “Well, Della,” she exclaimed, “whatever is the meaning of all this?”

“Ahem,” said the laughing girl, and out from their hiding-places sprang the four old people, each calling gayly, “Happy birthday, Sarie Dorset!”

The eight girls, watching from the kitchen-door, were certainly satisfied with the way in which Granny Dorset was surprised.

“Oh! Oh!” she said, with tears of joy running down her wrinkled cheeks. “It’s a party, isn’t it? I never thought I’d live to go to another one.”

Then, when her bonnet and shawl had been removed, Adele reappeared from the bedroom, carrying a long box.

“It’s a birthday present for you, Granny Dorset,” the girl announced. “And if you can guess what’s in it, you may have it.”

With shining eyes the old lady guessed one thing and then another, and then at last hesitatingly said, “It couldn’t be a dress, could it, Della?”

“You’ve guessed it!” Adele cried gayly. “And now open it up and see what you will see!”

Granny Dorset gave a little cry of joy when she beheld the purple silk dress. “It’s just what I’ve always wanted,” she said; “and there’s lace in the neck and sleeves.” Then she added, “Della, being as it’s my birthday, I wish I could put it on.”

“And so you shall,” Adele declared. Then she and Eva assisted the little old lady into the bedroom, whence a little later she emerged, dressed in the purple gown, and the happiness glowing in that dear old face made the girls glad indeed that Adele had thought of that particular birthday present.

Then, when the old people were comfortably seated in the easy-chairs, some having been brought from the big house, and the girls, tailor-wise, on the floor, Granny Dorset said, “’Lijah Dally, being as the girls have turned that sheep-herder’s cabin into a play-house, why don’t you tell them something that happened round there when you was a boy?”

Grandpa Dally looked pleased to be called upon to entertain the company. “I would, Sarie,” he replied, “but just this minute I don’t seem to think of nothing.”

“Suppose you tell ’em how you met the wolves,” Mr. Quigley suggested.

“Oh, Grandpa Dally,” Rosamond cried with a shudder. “Did you really meet some wolves once, and didn’t they eat you?”

Every one laughed at Rosie’s question. “If they had,” Grandpa Dally replied, “I wouldn’t be here to tell you the story. Well,” he began, “when I was about eight years old, my father and me lived in that sheep-herder’s cabin out in the meadows. I hadn’t a mother and I sort of grew up any way. There was wolves hereabouts in them days, and when they got real hungry, especially in winter, they came prowling around and howling at night. Often father and the other herder who lived with us would go out with their guns and drive them away from the fold.

“When I was twelve year old, my father gave me a gun and taught me how to shoot it, and after that I felt very brave and bold.

“That winter was bitterly cold, and the snow was deep, but it was crusted over so that we could walk on it. The sheep were all in the fold, and at night we often heard the wolves howling in the hills.

“‘’Lijah,’ my father said to me, ‘whenever you go to the store at the crossings be sure that you carry your gun.’

“Once a week I went to the store, which was two miles away, to get supplies and the mail. I wore a fur cap and mittens, and I did not mind the cold much. With my gun over my shoulder and my snowshoes on my feet I started out one day. I only passed one house on the way, and in it lived a wood-cutter and his wife and two children. As I was a-passin’ by, the woman called and asked me if I’d do an errand for her at the store. She said her man was up to the woods, but she was expectin’ him back about nightfall. I said I’d do her errand and glad to oblige, and then I went on my way.

“At the store there was some trappers just come in from the hills, and they said wolves was thick up that ways, and extra hungry on account of the deep snow. ‘Hello, sonny,’ one of them called after me, when, with my packages strapped to my back, I started to leave the store. ‘You ain’t goin’ home all alone, be you? Don’t see what yer pa’s thinkin’ of to let ye, with wolves around as thick as they be.’

“I told him I wasn’t a bit afeared, and I hurried out. The first half-mile I skated over the hard, crusted snow without a trip, but then a strap bust on one of my snowshoes and I had to stop quite a while to fix it before I could go on. When I got it mended it was growing dark, and I was almost afeared to go on, thinking of what the trapper had said, but I knew dad would be out huntin’ for me if I didn’t turn up, so I skated off at a stiff pace. I tried to whistle, to sort of cheer me up, but somehow I couldn’t, for fear that the wolves would hear.

“I was nearing the woods, when I suddenly saw something which made my blood run cold. There was wolf-tracks all around in the snow, and they was fresh. I stood still, not a-darin’ to go on. I knew I was near the woman’s house, but I couldn’t see it for the trees. Just as I was wonderin’ what to do, I heerd a frightened cry for help. It was that woman, I felt sure, and with all speed I rounded the edge of the wood. The cabin door stood open and I saw two wolves a-goin’ in. Without thinkin’ what I was to do, I darted to the door and fired. One wolf fell at my feet with an ugly snarl, but the other turned and leaped at me. I struck it with my gun, but I felt its sharp teeth cuttin’ into my arm. Just as I thought it was all over with me, a shot rang out from behind, and that wolf dropped dead, hit in the heart.

“It was the wood-cutter. He had been a-returnin’, but when he heard my gun he came on a run. Then, for the first time, I saw the woman and two small children crouched in a corner. The woman came forward, white from fright, and she took my hand as she said in a tremblin’ voice, ‘’Lijah Dally, if I live to be a thousand, I can’t do enough to thank you for savin’ my babies. The wolves was just about to leap on them when you came in and fired, and the critters turned on you instead. A minute more and nothin’ could ’a’ saved them.’

“‘You are a brave boy,’ the woodsman said, but I didn’t feel brave at all. I was shakin’ so I ’most couldn’t stand. Just then there came a rap on the door. It was my dad and one of the sheep-herders, out to look for me. Wasn’t I glad to see them, though! But I didn’t feel real safe till we three was in our log cabin, with the door bolted and barred.”

“Oh-h!” said Rosamond Wright with a shudder. “How glad I am there are no wolves around the log cabin now!”

While Grandpa Dally had been telling this story there had been a quiet bustling in the cottage kitchen, and suddenly the door opened and in came Kate and Mrs. Doring, bearing the good things to eat.

Granny Dorset’s chair was drawn up to the table and soon the merry feast began.

“A good old-fashioned chicken dinner,” Mrs. Quigley said with appreciation. “And pumpkin pie!” Grandpa Dally added with a chuckle.

“It’s a good while since I ate any home cookin’,” Mr. Quigley remarked. “I tell you, folks, there’s nothin’ like a home, whether it’s for cookin’ or just livin’ in,” he added wistfully, and every one knew that he was thinking of the poorhouse.

Then Miss Grackle impulsively exclaimed, “Dan Quigley, you seem about as strong as ever. I should think that you could get gardening to do.”

“I’ve tried, Sally, but all the farmers say I’m too old,” Mr. Quigley replied.

“You are too old for hard farming, I agree,” Miss Grackle said, “but maybe there is some one who has a garden and grounds to be cared for, where you could work when you felt like it and rest when you were tired.”

“I wish there was such a place,” the old man said sadly, “but there ain’t.”

“Yes, there is, too,” Miss Grackle exclaimed. “I want this place of mine fixed up the way it was when father was alive, and I want you and Mrs. Quigley to come and live in this cottage and take care of it for me.”

Mrs. Quigley’s eyes were shining. “Pa Quigley,” she said, “I always told you the dear Lord would send one of His angels to deliver us from the poorhouse, if it was right that we should be delivered.”

“And so He has!” Mr. Quigley said in a shaking voice. “And Sally Grackle is that angel!”

How Miss Grackle longed to tell them that Adele Doring and her six friends were really the angels, but she had promised Adele that she would not. When at last the guests took their departure they left the happy old couple in a really, truly home.