CHAPTER IV
HART
No second invitation was needed, and with one of the marvelous “neck-or-nothing” bounds which only boys can make, Hart rested one hand upon the fence and the next instant stood beside the surprised girl.
“How under the sun did you do it!” she exclaimed, for never having had any boy companions excepting her cousins from the city, Denise hardly knew what to expect from boys.
“That didn’t amount to much,” answered the boy, modestly, as he followed Denise over the lawn, and a moment later was surrounded by her inquisitive family. Ned promptly struck an attitude, and sniffed from afar in long, audible breaths. Tan presented arms, so to speak, by trying to rear upon his hind legs as of old, and make believe butt the newcomer. Sailor walked right up to him and put his paw into his hand, and Beauty, not to be outdone in politeness, instantly began to do his tricks for their guest’s benefit. He lay down at his feet, rolled over first one way and then the other so quickly that one wondered if he had some sort of a patent spring inside him; then sat upon his hind legs to “beg” and “sneeze” three times in rapid succession. Overhead the kittens kept up a sort of accompaniment to the other’s performances by running rapidly up and down the limbs and meowing incessantly.
“I say! What a lot of them!” exclaimed the boy, “and aren’t they dandies?”
“Yes, I think that they are a pretty nice family. Tan is all dressed up because it is his birthday.”
“Not really? That’s a joke, for it’s mine, too. I’m twelve years old to-day, and that is the reason I came out here. A sort of birthday treat, don’t you see.”
“How funny,” cried Denise, “but isn’t it splendid, too! Let’s leave the children down here to enjoy themselves while you and I get up into the tree and have a fine talk. See the seats up there? It’s a fine place for a powwow.”
“What do you mean by the children?” asked Hart, glancing about for several infants, but failing to see them.
Denise laughed. “Oh, that is only my way of speaking of the pets. There are such a lot of them that they need as much care as children, so I call them so.”
Hart glanced up into the blossom-laden tree, and without another word began to scramble into its fragrant depths, Denise following as nimbly as a squirrel. Seating themselves upon bits of board which had been nailed in the branches, they at once availed themselves of that blessed privilege of childhood, and asked questions by the dozen.
“When did you come out?” was Denise’s first question.
“Just before luncheon with Mrs. Dean, the housekeeper. Father and mother won’t be out until to-morrow. But I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to see the place so much, and—” Hart paused abruptly, for he had been about to add “you,” when he bethought himself of his manners.
“And what?” asked Denise.
“Why, you see, I hadn’t seen the place since I was just a little kid only five years old, and mother said that she had always lived here when she was a girl, and that your mother was her school-friend. And then she told me about your pets, and—and—well, she said that she hoped you and I would grow to be good friends, too, don’t you see,” and the handsome blue eyes smiled in the friendliest way. Hart was a handsome boy, tall and well formed for a boy of twelve, with a firm mouth, fine teeth, and the most winning smile imaginable. Little brownie Denise was an exact opposite, for his hair was a mass of golden waves and hers as dark as a seal’s.
“Why, of course we’ll be friends. We are already, and it is just too splendid for anything to think that you live so near, and we can be together all the time,” for it never occurred to Denise that there might be people in this world ready to criticise a boy and girl friendship, and the silly nonsense of “little beaus” and “little sweethearts” had, happily, never even entered her head. It was just good comradeship with all her boy friends. True, she had never had any close ones, although she knew nearly all the children in Springdale, and was always glad to welcome them to her home. But the greater part of her life was passed with her pets, and they filled it very full, indeed. But here was a friend close at hand with whom she might talk, drive, or cut any prank, and the experience was novel.
As they sat chattering, a musical bob-white whistle sounded almost beneath their feet, and Mrs. Lombard’s face peered through the boughs.
“Who ever heard of a quail and a golden pheasant up a tree!” she said merrily. “That boy up there is Hart Murray, I know, for he has stolen his mother’s eyes and golden hair, and come out here to masquerade. Come straight down here and let me shake hands with you.”
It would have been hard to resist the cordial welcome of Mrs. Lombard’s voice, and a second later Hart’s slender hand lay in hers, and she was smiling into his face as only Mrs. Lombard could smile. “I thought I heard a wonderous piping in the old apple-tree,” she said, “and came out to learn what manner of bird had taken possession. I have found a rara avis, sure enough, and shall try to induce it to spend a good part of its time in my grounds.”
“I don’t believe it will need much coaxing,” was the laughing reply.
“Oh, we have laid all sorts of splendid plans already,” cried Denise, “and were just going over to see the rabbits when you piped up. Come with us, Moddie,” and slipping her arm about her mother’s waist, Denise led the way to the rabbits’ quarters in one end of Tan’s field. Resting her hand upon the shoulder of the tall boy walking beside her, Mrs. Lombard asked: “And what are the plans for good times?”
“Oh, all sorts of things. Father says that he will give me a pony and a boat. Denise and I can have jolly rides, and I’ll take her rowing if you’ll let her go; will you?” he asked eagerly.
“Dear me, who will guarantee her safe return?” asked Mrs. Lombard.
“Oh, I’ll take first-rate care of her, if you’ll only let her come; please say yes,” and he placed his hand upon her shoulder.
He was probably unconscious of the act, but that was exactly the influence Mrs. Lombard always exercised over young people; they were at once drawn toward her, and soon lost all sense of the presence of a “grown-up.”
They had now reached the rabbit-house, and were surrounded by black, white, gray, and brown wiggling noses—dozens and dozens of of them. Hart was delighted, and when Mrs. Lombard asked, “Wouldn’t you like to have a pair for your own?” accepted her offer with a frank, boyish, “You’d better believe I would.” So a fine pair, one black and one white one, was selected, and within the hour had taken up their abode in the hothouse in their neighbor’s grounds, there to live until their new owner could build a house for them.
That was the beginning of a boy and girl friendship which lasted many years, and was not broken till years after when Hart, grown to splendid, talented manhood, slipped into “the great beyond,” and left many a sad heart behind.
Ned Toodles had always displayed a very marked aversion for any one wearing trousers, and it was funny enough to watch his attitude toward Hart. At first he submitted to his caresses with the air of, “Well, good breeding compels me to show no aversion, but remember, you are only accepted on probation.” But Hart was too manly a little chap to torment an animal, and before long Ned grew very fond of him, although Hart had never yet attempted to ride him.
One afternoon, when Denise and Hart were playing “livery stable,” and, as usual, having a royal good time, with Ned upon constant call, Sailor harnessed to a small express wagon, and Beauty Buttons to the doll’s carriage, for “pony orders for children,” the proprietor of the stable received an order for a saddle-horse to be sent to a customer as quickly as possible.
Obviously, Ned was the only animal in that stable who was saddle-broken. Tan was standing in line, lest he feel neglected, but “let’s make believe that he is just a boarding horse, which some lady keeps in the stable, and that we can’t use him for anything.”
“Yes, and sometimes we must take him out and walk him around for exercise,” answered Hart.
Z-z-z—z-ing! rang an imaginary telephone-bell, or, at least, a call-bell, for this all happened long before the days of telephones.
“Thomas, there goes the order-bell,” called the proprietor, Mr. Andrews.
“Aye, aye, sir!” answered Thomas, running to the little window to receive an imaginary order from without. “It’s from Mr. Casey, and he wants a saddle-horse sent up right off.”
“Does he ask for a side or man’s saddle,” asked the proprietor, filled with inward misgivings should the order prove to be a demand for the latter.
Thomas turned to the window to ask the invisible messenger which was wanted, and stated that Mr. Casey wished to ride himself. Here was a coil, but that proprietor was not to be baffled by the fact that the stable boasted no man’s saddle, or that the only saddle horse would be very liable to make things pretty lively for the first masculine creature attempting to mount him. With an air of added importance she said:
“Very good! Very good! I shall have to get the new saddle from the harness-room,” and went to the pretty little closet containing all Ned’s belongings. Taking from it her own beautiful little saddle with its castor seat and immaculate saddle-cloth, she hastily rigged up a stirrup upon the right side, unscrewed the pummels, and, heigh, presto! there was your man’s saddle fine as a fiddle.
Ned was then taken from his stall, and the saddle adjusted. So far so good. That move was not an unusual one, and his little mistress had superintended the operation. No doubt she was going to ride him, even though she had rigged up that queer dangling thing upon the right side of the saddle.
“Thomas, it is only a short way to Mr. Casey’s, and I think that you’d better lead King Royal. He is pretty fresh, and it will be safer.”
“Very good, sir,” answered the obedient Thomas, secretly resolving to get upon that noble animal’s back once he was out of sight of the stable. Just then another order was delivered: this time for a pony-phaeton. “As this order must be filled without delay, I shall take Tiny Tim over to Mrs. Murray’s myself, for perhaps she will not want the young lady to drive herself,” said Mr. Andrews. “When you get back you’d better take Gold Auster out for a little exercise; Miss Ward does not like him to get stiffened up.”
King Royal was led out of the stable by the submissive Thomas, and Mr. Andrews, making believe seat himself in the doll’s carriage, said “Get up” to Tiny Tim. King Royal looked back as Thomas led him away, as though trying to reason out in his horse mind why the one he loved best did not come, too. But that person was filled with other concerns, and Thomas was saying “Come on, now, Mr. Casey will be wantin’ you” in very excellent imitation of John’s voice. A moment later, Tiny Tim had passed into Mr. Murray’s grounds, and King Royal was marching off down the road which led to Mr. Casey’s beautiful home on the river bank.
Arrived at the entrance gate, Thomas held a conversation with Mr. Casey, and a wonderful transformation instantly took place, for Thomas vanished, and “Mr. Casey” prepared to mount the noble animal sent to him by Mr. Andrews. What happened next will need a chapter all to itself.