For a week Dan only moved from bed to sofa; a long week and a hard one, for the hurt foot was very painful at times, the quiet days were very wearisome to the active lad, longing to be out enjoying the summer weather, and especially difficult was it to be patient. But Dan did his best, and every one helped him in their various ways; so the time passed, and he was rewarded at last by hearing the doctor say, on Saturday morning,
“This foot is doing better than I expected. Give the lad the crutch this afternoon, and let him stump about the house a little.”
“Hooray!” shouted Nat, and raced away to tell the other boys the good news.
Everybody was very glad, and after dinner the whole flock assembled to behold Dan crutch himself up and down the hall a few times before he settled in the porch to hold a sort of levee. He was much pleased at the interest and good-will shown him, and brightened up more and more every minute; for the boys came to pay their respects, the little girls fussed about him with stools and cushions, and Teddy watched over him as if he was a frail creature unable to do anything for himself. They were still sitting and standing about the steps, when a carriage stopped at the gate, a hat was waved from it, and with a shout of “Uncle Teddy! Uncle Teddy!” Rob scampered down the avenue as fast as his short legs would carry him. All the boys but Dan ran after him to see who should be first to open the gate, and in a moment the carriage drove up with boys swarming all over it, while Uncle Teddy sat laughing in the midst, with his little daughter on his knee.
“Stop the triumphal car and let Jupiter descend,” he said, and jumping out ran up the steps to meet Mrs. Bhaer, who stood smiling and clapping her hands like a girl.
“How goes it, Teddy?”
“All right, Jo.”
Then they shook hands, and Mr. Laurie put Bess into her aunt's arms, saying, as the child hugged her tight, “Goldilocks wanted to see you so much that I ran away with her, for I was quite pining for a sight of you myself. We want to play with your boys for an hour or so, and to see how 'the old woman who lived in a shoe, and had so many children she did not know what to do,' is getting on.”
“I'm so glad! Play away, and don't get into mischief,” answered Mrs. Jo, as the lads crowded round the pretty child, admiring her long golden hair, dainty dress, and lofty ways, for the little “Princess,” as they called her, allowed no one to kiss her, but sat smiling down upon them, and graciously patting their heads with her little, white hands. They all adored her, especially Rob, who considered her a sort of doll, and dared not touch her lest she should break, but worshipped her at a respectful distance, made happy by an occasional mark of favor from her little highness. As she immediately demanded to see Daisy's kitchen, she was borne off by Mrs. Jo, with a train of small boys following. The others, all but Nat and Demi, ran away to the menagerie and gardens to have all in order; for Mr. Laurie always took a general survey, and looked disappointed if things were not flourishing.
Standing on the steps, he turned to Dan, saying like an old acquaintance, though he had only seen him once or twice before,
“How is the foot?”
“Better, sir.”
“Rather tired of the house, aren't you?”
“Guess I am!” and Dan's eyes roved away to the green hills and woods where he longed to be.
“Suppose we take a little turn before the others come back? That big, easy carriage will be quite safe and comfortable, and a breath of fresh air will do you good. Get a cushion and a shawl, Demi, and let's carry Dan off.”
The boys thought it a capital joke, and Dan looked delighted, but asked, with an unexpected burst of virtue,
“Will Mrs. Bhaer like it?”
“Oh, yes; we settled all that a minute ago.”
“You didn't say any thing about it, so I don't see how you could,” said Demi, inquisitively.
“We have a way of sending messages to one another, without any words. It is a great improvement on the telegraph.”
“I know it's eyes; I saw you lift your eyebrows, and nod toward the carriage, and Mrs. Bhaer laughed and nodded back again,” cried Nat, who was quite at his ease with kind Mr. Laurie by this time.
“Right. Now them, come on,” and in a minute Dan found himself settled in the carriage, his foot on a cushion on the seat opposite, nicely covered with a shawl, which fell down from the upper regions in a most mysterious manner, just when they wanted it. Demi climbed up to the box beside Peter, the black coachman. Nat sat next Dan in the place of honor, while Uncle Teddy would sit opposite, to take care of the foot, he said, but really that he might study the faces before him both so happy, yet so different, for Dan's was square, and brown, and strong, while Nat's was long, and fair, and rather weak, but very amiable with its mild eyes and good forehead.
“By the way, I've got a book somewhere here that you may like to see,” said the oldest boy of the party, diving under the seat and producing a book which make Dan exclaim,
“Oh! by George, isn't that a stunner?” as he turned the leaves, and saw fine plates of butterflies, and birds, and every sort of interesting insect, colored like life. He was so charmed that he forgot his thanks, but Mr. Laurie did not mind, and was quite satisfied to see the boy's eager delight, and to hear his exclamations over certain old friends as he came to them. Nat leaned on his shoulder to look, and Demi turned his back to the horses, and let his feet dangle inside the carriage, so that he might join in the conversation.
When they got among the beetles, Mr. Laurie took a curious little object out of his vest-pocket, and laying it in the palm of his hand, said,
“There's a beetle that is thousands of years old;” and then, while the lads examined the queer stone-bug, that looked so old and gray, he told them how it came out of the wrappings of a mummy, after lying for ages in a famous tomb. Finding them interested, he went on to tell about the Egyptians, and the strange and splendid ruins they have left behind them the Nile, and how he sailed up the mighty river, with the handsome dark men to work his boat; how he shot alligators, saw wonderful beasts and birds; and afterwards crossed the desert on a camel, who pitched him about like a ship in a storm.
“Uncle Teddy tells stories 'most as well as Grandpa,” said Demi, approvingly, when the tale was done, and the boys' eyes asked for more.
“Thank you,” said Mr. Laurie, quite soberly, for he considered Demi's praise worth having, for children are good critics in such cases, and to suit them is an accomplishment that any one may be proud of.
“Here's another trifle or two that I tucked into my pocket as I was turning over my traps to see if I had any thing that would amuse Dan,” and Uncle Teddy produced a fine arrow-head and a string of wampum.
“Oh! tell about the Indians,” cried Demi, who was fond of playing wigwam.
“Dan knows lots about them,” added Nat.
“More than I do, I dare say. Tell us something,” and Mr. Laurie looked as interested as the other two.
“Mr. Hyde told me; he's been among 'em, and can talk their talk, and likes 'em,” began Dan, flattered by their attention, but rather embarrassed by having a grown-up listener.
“What is wampum for?” asked curious Demi, from his perch.
The others asked questions likewise, and, before he knew it, Dan was reeling off all Mr. Hyde had told him, as they sailed down the river a few weeks before. Mr. Laurie listened well, but found the boy more interesting than the Indians, for Mrs. Jo had told him about Dan, and he rather took a fancy to the wild lad, who ran away as he himself had often longed to do, and who was slowly getting tamed by pain and patience.
“I've been thinking that it would be a good plan for you fellows to have a museum of your own; a place in which to collect all the curious and interesting things that you find, and make, and have given you. Mrs. Jo is too kind to complain, but it is rather hard for her to have the house littered up with all sorts of rattletraps, half-a-pint of dor-bugs in one of her best vases, for instance, a couple of dead bats nailed up in the back entry, wasps nests tumbling down on people's heads, and stones lying round everywhere, enough to pave the avenue. There are not many women who would stand that sort of thing, are there, now?”
As Mr. Laurie spoke with a merry look in his eyes, the boys laughed and nudged one another, for it was evident that some one told tales out of school, else how could he know of the existence of these inconvenient treasures.
“Where can we put them, then?” said Demi, crossing his legs and leaning down to argue the question.
“In the old carriage-house.”
“But it leaks, and there isn't any window, nor any place to put things, and it's all dust and cobwebs,” began Nat.
“Wait till Gibbs and I have touched it up a bit, and then see how you like it. He is to come over on Monday to get it ready; then next Saturday I shall come out, and we will fix it up, and make the beginning, at least, of a fine little museum. Every one can bring his things, and have a place for them; and Dan is to be the head man, because he knows most about such matters, and it will be quiet, pleasant work for him now that he can't knock about much.”
“Won't that be jolly?” cried Nat, while Dan smiled all over his face and had not a word to say, but hugged his book, and looked at Mr. Laurie as if he thought him one of the greatest public benefactors that ever blessed the world.
“Shall I go round again, sir?” asked Peter, as they came to the gate, after two slow turns about the half-mile triangle.
“No, we must be prudent, else we can't come again. I must go over the premises, take a look at the carriage-house, and have a little talk with Mrs. Jo before I go;” and, having deposited Dan on his sofa to rest and enjoy his book, Uncle Teddy went off to have a frolic with the lads who were raging about the place in search of him. Leaving the little girls to mess up-stairs, Mrs. Bhaer sat down by Dan, and listened to his eager account of the drive till the flock returned, dusty, warm, and much excited about the new museum, which every one considered the most brilliant idea of the age.
“I always wanted to endow some sort of an institution, and I am going to begin with this,” said Mr. Laurie, sitting down on a stool at Mrs. Jo's feet.
“You have endowed one already. What do you call this?” and Mrs. Jo pointed to the happy-faced lads, who had camped upon the floor about him.
“I call it a very promising Bhaer-garden, and I'm proud to be a member of it. Did you know I was the head boy in this school?” he asked, turning to Dan, and changing the subject skilfully, for he hated to be thanked for the generous things he did.
“I thought Franz was!” answered Dan, wondering what the man meant.
“Oh, dear no! I'm the first boy Mrs. Jo ever had to take care of, and I was such a bad one that she isn't done with me yet, though she has been working at me for years and years.”
“How old she must be!” said Nat, innocently.
“She began early, you see. Poor thing! she was only fifteen when she took me, and I led her such a life, it's a wonder she isn't wrinkled and gray, and quite worn out,” and Mr. Laurie looked up at her laughing.
“Don't Teddy; I won't have you abuse yourself so;” and Mrs. Jo stroked the curly black head at her knee as affectionately as ever, for, in spite of every thing Teddy was her boy still.
“If it hadn't been for you, there never would have been a Plumfield. It was my success with you, sir, that gave me courage to try my pet plan. So the boys may thank you for it, and name the new institution 'The Laurence Museum,' in honor of its founder, won't we, boys?” she added, looking very like the lively Jo of old times.
“We will! we will!” shouted the boys, throwing up their hats, for though they had taken them off on entering the house, according to rule, they had been in too much of a hurry to hang them up.
“I'm as hungry as a bear, can't I have a cookie?” asked Mr. Laurie, when the shout subsided and he had expressed his thanks by a splendid bow.
“Trot out and ask Asia for the gingerbread-box, Demi. It isn't in order to eat between meals, but, on this joyful occasion, we won't mind, and have a cookie all round,” said Mrs. Jo; and when the box came she dealt them out with a liberal hand, every one munching away in a social circle.
Suddenly, in the midst of a bite, Mr. Laurie cried out, “Bless my heart, I forgot grandma's bundle!” and running out to the carriage, returned with an interesting white parcel, which, being opened, disclosed a choice collection of beasts, birds, and pretty things cut out of crisp sugary cake, and baked a lovely brown.
“There's one for each, and a letter to tell which is whose. Grandma and Hannah made them, and I tremble to think what would have happened to me if I had forgotten to leave them.”
Then, amid much laughing and fun, the cakes were distributed. A fish for Dan, a fiddle for Nat, a book for Demi, a monkey for Tommy, a flower for Daisy, a hoop for Nan, who had driven twice round the triangle without stopping, a star for Emil, who put on airs because he studied astronomy, and, best of all, an omnibus for Franz, whose great delight was to drive the family bus. Stuffy got a fat pig, and the little folks had birds, and cats, and rabbits, with black currant eyes.
“Now I must go. Where is my Goldilocks? Mamma will come flying out to get her if I'm not back early,” said Uncle Teddy, when the last crumb had vanished, which it speedily did, you may be sure.
The young ladies had gone into the garden, and while they waited till Franz looked them up, Jo and Laurie stood at the door talking together.
“How does little Giddy-gaddy come on?” he asked, for Nan's pranks amused him very much, and he was never tired of teasing Jo about her.
“Nicely; she is getting quite mannerly, and begins to see the error of her wild ways.”
“Don't the boys encourage her in them?”
“Yes; but I keep talking, and lately she has improved much. You saw how prettily she shook hands with you, and how gentle she was with Bess. Daisy's example has its effect upon her, and I'm quite sure that a few months will work wonders.”
Here Mrs. Jo's remarks were cut short by the appearance of Nan tearing round the corner at a break-neck pace, driving a mettlesome team of four boys, and followed by Daisy trundling Bess in a wheelbarrow. Hat off, hair flying, whip cracking, and barrow bumping, up they came in a cloud of dust, looking as wild a set of little hoydens as one would wish to see.
“So, these are the model children, are they? It's lucky I didn't bring Mrs. Curtis out to see your school for the cultivation of morals and manners; she would never have recovered from the shock of this spectacle,” said Mr. Laurie, laughing at Mrs. Jo's premature rejoicing over Nan's improvement.
“Laugh away; I'll succeed yet. As you used to say at College, quoting some professor, 'Though the experiment has failed, the principle remains the same,'” said Mrs. Bhaer, joining in the merriment.
“I'm afraid Nan's example is taking effect upon Daisy, instead of the other way. Look at my little princess! she has utterly forgotten her dignity, and is screaming like the rest. Young ladies, what does this mean?” and Mr. Laurie rescued his small daughter from impending destruction, for the four horses were champing their bits and curvetting madly all about her, as she sat brandishing a great whip in both hands.
“We're having a race, and I beat,” shouted Nan.
“I could have run faster, only I was afraid of spilling Bess,” screamed Daisy.
“Hi! go long!” cried the princess, giving such a flourish with her whip that the horses ran away, and were seen no more.
“My precious child! come away from this ill-mannered crew before you are quite spoilt. Good-by, Jo! Next time I come, I shall expect to find the boys making patchwork.”
“It wouldn't hurt them a bit. I don't give in, mind you; for my experiments always fail a few times before they succeed. Love to Amy and my blessed Marmee,” called Mrs. Jo, as the carriage drove away; and the last Mr. Laurie saw of her, she was consoling Daisy for her failure by a ride in the wheelbarrow, and looking as if she liked it.
Great was the excitement all the week about the repairs in the carriage-house, which went briskly on in spite of the incessant questions, advice, and meddling of the boys. Old Gibbs was nearly driven wild with it all, but managed to do his work nevertheless; and by Friday night the place was all in order roof mended, shelves up, walls whitewashed, a great window cut at the back, which let in a flood of sunshine, and gave them a fine view of the brook, the meadows, and the distant hills; and over the great door, painted in red letters, was “The Laurence Museum.”
All Saturday morning the boys were planning how it should be furnished with their spoils, and when Mr. Laurie arrived, bringing an aquarium which Mrs. Amy said she was tired of, their rapture was great.
The afternoon was spent in arranging things, and when the running and lugging and hammering was over, the ladies were invited to behold the institution.
It certainly was a pleasant place, airy, clean, and bright. A hop-vine shook its green bells round the open window, the pretty aquarium stood in the middle of the room, with some delicate water plants rising above the water, and gold-fish showing their brightness as they floated to and fro below. On either side of the window were rows of shelves ready to receive the curiosities yet to be found. Dan's tall cabinet stood before the great door which was fastened up, while the small door was to be used. On the cabinet stood a queer Indian idol, very ugly, but very interesting; old Mr. Laurence sent it, as well as a fine Chinese junk in full sail, which had a conspicuous place on the long table in the middle of the room. Above, swinging in a loop, and looking as if she was alive, hung Polly, who died at an advanced age, had been carefully stuffed, and was now presented by Mrs. Jo. The walls were decorated with all sorts of things. A snake's skin, a big wasp's nest, a birch-bark canoe, a string of birds' eggs, wreaths of gray moss from the South, and a bunch of cotton-pods. The dead bats had a place, also a large turtle-shell, and an ostrich-egg proudly presented by Demi, who volunteered to explain these rare curiosities to guests whenever they liked. There were so many stones that it was impossible to accept them all, so only a few of the best were arranged among the shells on the shelves, the rest were piled up in corners, to be examined by Dan at his leisure.
Every one was eager to give something, even Silas, who sent home for a stuffed wild-cat killed in his youth. It was rather moth-eaten and shabby, but on a high bracket and best side foremost the effect was fine, for the yellow glass eyes glared, and the mouth snarled so naturally, that Teddy shook in his little shoes at sight of it, when he came bringing his most cherished treasure, one cocoon, to lay upon the shrine of science.
“Isn't it beautiful? I'd no idea we had so many curious things. I gave that; don't it look well? We might make a lot by charging something for letting folks see it.”
Jack added that last suggestion to the general chatter that went on as the family viewed the room.
“This is a free museum and if there is any speculating on it I'll paint out the name over the door,” said Mr. Laurie, turning so quickly that Jack wished he had held his tongue.
“Hear! hear!” cried Mr. Bhaer.
“Speech! speech!” added Mrs. Jo.
“Can't, I'm too bashful. You give them a lecture yourself you are used to it,” Mr. Laurie answered, retreating towards the window, meaning to escape. But she held him fast, and said, laughing as she looked at the dozen pairs of dirty hands about her,
“If I did lecture, it would on the chemical and cleansing properties of soap. Come now, as the founder of the institution, you really ought to give us a few moral remarks, and we will applaud tremendously.”
Seeing that there was no way of escaping, Mr. Laurie looked up at Polly hanging overhead, seemed to find inspiration in the brilliant old bird, and sitting down upon the table, said, in his pleasant way,
“There is one thing I'd like to suggest, boys, and that is, I want you to get some good as well as much pleasure out of this. Just putting curious or pretty things here won't do it; so suppose you read up about them, so that when anybody asks questions you can answer them, and understand the matter. I used to like these things myself, and should enjoy hearing about them now, for I've forgotten all I once knew. It wasn't much, was it, Jo? Here's Dan now, full of stories about birds, and bugs, and so on; let him take care of the museum, and once a week the rest of you take turns to read a composition, or tell about some animal, mineral, or vegetable. We should all like that, and I think it would put considerable useful knowledge into our heads. What do you say, Professor?”
“I like it much, and will give the lads all the help I can. But they will need books to read up these new subjects, and we have not many, I fear,” began Mr. Bhaer, looking much pleased, planning many fine lectures on geology, which he liked. “We should have a library for the special purpose.”
“Is that a useful sort of book, Dan?” asked Mr. Laurie, pointing to the volume that lay open by the cabinet.
“Oh, yes! it tells all I want to know about insects. I had it here to see how to fix the butterflies right. I covered it, so it is not hurt;” and Dan caught it up, fearing the lender might think him careless.
“Give it here a minute;” and, pulling out his pencil, Mr. Laurie wrote Dan's name in it, saying, as he set the book up on one of the corner shelves, where nothing stood but a stuffed bird without a tail, “There, that is the beginning of the museum library. I'll hunt up some more books, and Demi shall keep them in order. Where are those jolly little books we used to read, Jo? 'Insect Architecture' or some such name, all about ants having battles, and bees having queens, and crickets eating holes in our clothes and stealing milk, and larks of that sort.”
“In the garret at home. I'll have them sent out, and we will plunge into Natural History with a will,” said Mrs. Jo, ready for any thing.
“Won't it be hard to write about such things?” asked Nat, who hated compositions.
“At first, perhaps; but you will soon like it. If you think that hard, how would you like to have this subject given to you, as it was to a girl of thirteen: A conversation between Themistocles, Aristides, and Pericles on the proposed appropriation of funds of the confederacy of Delos for the ornamentation of Athens?” said Mrs. Jo.
The boys groaned at the mere sound of the long names, and the gentlemen laughed at the absurdity of the lesson.
“Did she write it?” asked Demi, in an awe-stricken tone.
“Yes, but you can imagine what a piece of work she made of it, though she was rather a bright child.”
“I'd like to have seen it,” said Mr. Bhaer.
“Perhaps I can find it for you; I went to school with her,” and Mrs. Jo looked so wicked that every one knew who the little girl was.
Hearing of this fearful subject for a composition quite reconciled the boys to the thought of writing about familiar things. Wednesday afternoon was appointed for the lectures, as they preferred to call them, for some chose to talk instead of write. Mr. Bhaer promised a portfolio in which the written productions should be kept, and Mrs. Bhaer said she would attend the course with great pleasure.
Then the dirty-handed society went off to wash, followed by the Professor, trying to calm the anxiety of Rob, who had been told by Tommy that all water was full of invisible pollywogs.
“I like your plan very much, only don't be too generous, Teddy,” said Mrs. Bhaer, when they were left alone. “You know most of the boys have got to paddle their own canoes when they leave us, and too much sitting in the lap of luxury will unfit them for it.”
“I'll be moderate, but do let me amuse myself. I get desperately tired of business sometimes, and nothing freshens me up like a good frolic with your boys. I like that Dan very much, Jo. He isn't demonstrative; but he has the eye of a hawk, and when you have tamed him a little he will do you credit.”
“I'm so glad you think so. Thank you very much for your kindness to him, especially for this museum affair; it will keep him happy while he is lame, give me a chance to soften and smooth this poor, rough lad, and make him love us. What did inspire you with such a beautiful, helpful idea, Teddy?” asked Mrs. Bhaer, glancing back at the pleasant room, as she turned to leave it.
Laurie took both her hands in his, and answered, with a look that made her eyes fill with happy tears,
“Dear Jo! I have known what it is to be a motherless boy, and I never can forget how much you and yours have done for me all these years.”
There was a great clashing of tin pails, much running to and fro, and frequent demands for something to eat, one August afternoon, for the boys were going huckleberrying, and made as much stir about it as if they were setting out to find the North West Passage.
“Now, my lads, get off as quietly as you can, for Rob is safely out of the way, and won't see you,” said Mrs. Bhaer, as she tied Daisy's broad-brimmed hat, and settled the great blue pinafore in which she had enveloped Nan.
But the plan did not succeed, for Rob had heard the bustle, decided to go, and prepared himself, without a thought of disappointment. The troop was just getting under way when the little man came marching downstairs with his best hat on, a bright tin pail in his hand, and a face beaming with satisfaction.
“Oh, dear! now we shall have a scene,” sighed Mrs. Bhaer, who found her eldest son very hard to manage at times.
“I'm all ready,” said Rob, and took his place in the ranks with such perfect unconsciousness of his mistake, that it really was very hard to undeceive him.
“It's too far for you, my love; stay and take care of me, for I shall be all alone,” began his mother.
“You've got Teddy. I'm a big boy, so I can go; you said I might when I was bigger, and I am now,” persisted Rob, with a cloud beginning to dim the brightness of his happy face.
“We are going up to the great pasture, and it's ever so far; we don't want you tagging on,” cried Jack, who did not admire the little boys.
“I won't tag, I'll run and keep up. O Mamma! let me go! I want to fill my new pail, and I'll bring 'em all to you. Please, please, I will be good!” prayed Robby, looking up at his mother, so grieved and disappointed that her heart began to fail her.
“But, my deary, you'll get so tired and hot you won't have a good time. Wait till I go, and then we will stay all day, and pick as many berries as you want.”
“You never do go, you are so busy, and I'm tired of waiting. I'd rather go and get the berries for you all myself. I love to pick 'em, and I want to fill my new pail dreffly,” sobbed Rob.
The pathetic sight of great tears tinkling into the dear new pail, and threatening to fill it with salt water instead of huckleberries, touched all the ladies present. His mother patted the weeper on his back; Daisy offered to stay home with him; and Nan said, in her decided way,
“Let him come; I'll take care of him.”
“If Franz was going I wouldn't mind, for he is very careful; but he is haying with the father, and I'm not sure about the rest of you,” began Mrs. Bhaer.
“It's so far,” put in Jack.
“I'd carry him if I was going wish I was,” said Dan, with a sigh.
“Thank you, dear, but you must take care of your foot. I wish I could go. Stop a minute, I think I can manage it after all;” and Mrs. Bhaer ran out to the steps, waving her apron wildly.
Silas was just driving away in the hay-cart, but turned back, and agreed at once, when Mrs. Jo proposed that he should take the whole party to the pasture, and go for them at five o'clock.
“It will delay your work a little, but never mind; we will pay you in huckleberry pies,” said Mrs. Jo, knowing Silas's weak point.
His rough, brown face brightened up, and he said, with a cheery “Haw! haw!” “Wal now, Mis' Bhaer, if you go to bribin' of me, I shall give in right away.”
“Now, boys, I have arranged it so that you can all go,” said Mrs. Bhaer, running back again, much relieved, for she loved to make them happy, and always felt miserable when she had disturbed the serenity of her little sons; for she believed that the small hopes and plans and pleasures of children should be tenderly respected by grown-up people, and never rudely thwarted or ridiculed.
“Can I go?” said Dan, delighted.
“I thought especially of you. Be careful, and never mind the berries, but sit about and enjoy the lovely things which you know how to find all about you,” answered Mrs. Bhaer, who remembered his kind offer to her boy.
“Me too! me too!” sung Rob, dancing with joy, and clapping his precious pail and cover like castanets.
“Yes, and Daisy and Nan must take good care of you. Be at the bars at five o'clock, and Silas will come for you all.”
Robby cast himself upon his mother in a burst of gratitude, promising to bring her every berry he picked, and not eat one. Then they were all packed into the hay-cart, and went rattling away, the brightest face among the dozen being that of Rob, as he sat between his two temporary little mothers, beaming upon the whole world, and waving his best hat; for his indulgent mamma had not the heart to bereave him of it, since this was a gala-day to him.
Such a happy afternoon as they had, in spite of the mishaps which usually occur on such expeditions! Of course Tommy came to grief, tumbled upon a hornet's nest and got stung; but being used to woe, he bore the smart manfully, till Dan suggested the application of damp earth, which much assuaged the pain. Daisy saw a snake, and flying from it lost half her berries; but Demi helped her to fill up again, and discussed reptiles most learnedly the while. Ned fell out of a tree, and split his jacket down the back, but suffered no other fracture. Emil and Jack established rival claims to a certain thick patch, and while they were squabbling about it, Stuffy quickly and quietly stripped the bushes and fled to the protection of Dan, who was enjoying himself immensely. The crutch was no longer necessary, and he was delighted to see how strong his foot felt as he roamed about the great pasture, full of interesting rocks and stumps, with familiar little creatures in the grass, and well-known insects dancing in the air.
But of all the adventures that happened on this afternoon that which befell Nan and Rob was the most exciting, and it long remained one of the favorite histories of the household. Having explored the country pretty generally, torn three rents in her frock, and scratched her face in a barberry-bush, Nan began to pick the berries that shone like big, black beads on the low, green bushes. Her nimble fingers flew, but still her basket did not fill up as rapidly as she desired, so she kept wandering here and there to search for better places, instead of picking contentedly and steadily as Daisy did. Rob followed Nan, for her energy suited him better than his cousin's patience, and he too was anxious to have the biggest and best berries for Marmar.
“I keep putting 'em in, but it don't fill up, and I'm so tired,” said Rob, pausing a moment to rest his short legs, and beginning to think huckleberrying was not all his fancy painted it; for the sun blazed, Nan skipped hither and thither like a grasshopper, and the berries fell out of his pail almost as fast as he put them in, because, in his struggles with the bushes, it was often upside-down.
“Last time we came they were ever so much thicker over that wall great bouncers; and there is a cave there where the boys made a fire. Let's go and fill our things quick, and then hide in the cave and let the others find us,” proposed Nan, thirsting for adventures.
Rob consented, and away they went, scrambling over the wall and running down the sloping fields on the other side, till they were hidden among the rocks and underbrush. The berries were thick, and at last the pails were actually full. It was shady and cool down there, and a little spring gave the thirsty children a refreshing drink out of its mossy cup.
“Now we will go and rest in the cave, and eat our lunch,” said Nan, well satisfied with her success so far.
“Do you know the way?” asked Rob.
“'Course I do; I've been once, and I always remember. Didn't I go and get my box all right?”
That convinced Rob, and he followed blindly as Nan led him over stock and stone, and brought him, after much meandering, to a small recess in the rock, where the blackened stones showed that fires had been made.
“Now, isn't it nice?” asked Nan, as she took out a bit of bread-and-butter, rather damaged by being mixed up with nails, fishhooks, stones and other foreign substances, in the young lady's pocket.
“Yes; do you think they will find us soon?” asked Rob, who found the shadowy glen rather dull, and began to long for more society.
“No, I don't; because if I hear them, I shall hide, and have fun making them find me.”
“P'raps they won't come.”
“Don't care; I can get home myself.”
“Is it a great way?” asked Rob, looking at his little stubby boots, scratched and wet with his long wandering.
“It's six miles, I guess.” Nan's ideas of distance were vague, and her faith in her own powers great.
“I think we better go now,” suggested Rob, presently.
“I shan't till I have picked over my berries;” and Nan began what seemed to Rob an endless task.
“Oh, dear! you said you'd take good care of me,” he sighed, as the sun seemed to drop behind the hill all of a sudden.
“Well I am taking good care of you as hard as I can. Don't be cross, child; I'll go in a minute,” said Nan, who considered five-year-old Robby a mere infant compared to herself.
So little Rob sat looking anxiously about him, and waiting patiently, for, spite of some misgivings, he felt great confidence in Nan.
“I guess it's going to be night pretty soon,” he observed, as if to himself, as a mosquito bit him, and the frogs in a neighboring marsh began to pipe up for the evening concert.
“My goodness me! so it is. Come right away this minute, or they will be gone,” cried Nan, looking up from her work, and suddenly perceiving that the sun was down.
“I heard a horn about an hour ago; may be they were blowing for us,” said Rob, trudging after his guide as she scrambled up the steep hill.
“Where was it?” asked Nan, stopping short.
“Over that way;” he pointed with a dirty little finger in an entirely wrong direction.
“Let's go that way and meet them;” and Nan wheeled about, and began to trot through the bushes, feeling a trifle anxious, for there were so many cow-paths all about she could not remember which way they came.
On they went over stock and stone again, pausing now and then to listen for the horn, which did not blow any more, for it was only the moo of a cow on her way home.
“I don't remember seeing that pile of stones do you?” asked Nan, as she sat on a wall to rest a moment and take an observation.
“I don't remember any thing, but I want to go home,” and Rob's voice had a little tremble in it that made Nan put her arms round him and lift him gently down, saying, in her most capable way,
“I'm going just as fast as I can, dear. Don't cry, and when we come to the road, I'll carry you.”
“Where is the road?” and Robby wiped his eyes to look for it.
“Over by that big tree. Don't you know that's the one Ned tumbled out of?”
“So it is. May be they waited for us; I'd like to ride home wouldn't you?” and Robby brightened up as he plodded along toward the end of the great pasture.
“No, I'd rather walk,” answered Nan, feeling quite sure that she would be obliged to do so, and preparing her mind for it.
Another long trudge through the fast-deepening twilight and another disappointment, for when they reached the tree, they found to their dismay that it was not the one Ned climbed, and no road anywhere appeared.
“Are we lost?” quavered Rob, clasping his pail in despair.
“Not much. I don't just see which way to go, and I guess we'd better call.”
So they both shouted till they were hoarse, yet nothing answered but the frogs in full chorus.
“There is another tall tree over there, perhaps that's the one,” said Nan, whose heart sunk within her, though she still spoke bravely.
“I don't think I can go any more; my boots are so heavy I can't pull 'em;” and Robby sat down on a stone quite worn out.
“Then we must stay here all night. I don't care much, if snakes don't come.”
“I'm frightened of snakes. I can't stay all night. Oh, dear! I don't like to be lost,” and Rob puckered up his face to cry, when suddenly a thought occurred to him, and he said, in a tone of perfect confidence,
“Marmar will come and find me she always does; I ain't afraid now.”
“She won't know where we are.”
“She didn't know I was shut up in the ice-house, but she found me. I know she'll come,” returned Robby, so trustfully, that Nan felt relieved, and sat down by him, saying, with a remorseful sigh,
“I wish we hadn't run away.”
“You made me; but I don't mind much Marmar will love me just the same,” answered Rob, clinging to his sheet-anchor when all other hope was gone.
“I'm so hungry. Let's eat our berries,” proposed Nan, after a pause, during which Rob began to nod.
“So am I, but I can't eat mine, 'cause I told Marmar I'd keep them all for her.”
“You'll have to eat them if no one comes for us,” said Nan, who felt like contradicting every thing just then. “If we stay here a great many days, we shall eat up all the berries in the field, and then we shall starve,” she added grimly.
“I shall eat sassafras. I know a big tree of it, and Dan told me how squirrels dig up the roots and eat them, and I love to dig,” returned Rob, undaunted by the prospect of starvation.
“Yes; and we can catch frogs, and cook them. My father ate some once, and he said they were nice,” put in Nan, beginning to find a spice of romance even in being lost in a huckleberry pasture.
“How could we cook frogs? we haven't got any fire.”
“I don't know; next time I'll have matches in my pocket,” said Nan, rather depressed by this obstacle to the experiment in frog-cookery.
“Couldn't we light a fire with a fire-fly?” asked Rob, hopefully, as he watched them flitting to and fro like winged sparks.
“Let's try;” and several minutes were pleasantly spent in catching the flies, and trying to make them kindle a green twig or two. “It's a lie to call them fire-flies when there isn't a fire in them,” Nan said, throwing one unhappy insect away with scorn, though it shone its best, and obligingly walked up and down the twigs to please the innocent little experimenters.
“Marmar's a good while coming,” said Rob, after another pause, during which they watched the stars overhead, smelt the sweet fern crushed under foot, and listened to the crickets' serenade.
“I don't see why God made any night; day is so much pleasanter,” said Nan, thoughtfully.
“It's to sleep in,” answered Rob, with a yawn.
“Then do go to sleep,” said Nan, pettishly.
“I want my own bed. Oh, I wish I could see Teddy!” cried Rob, painfully reminded of home by the soft chirp of birds safe in their little nests.
“I don't believe your mother will ever find us,” said Nan, who was becoming desperate, for she hated patient waiting of any sort. “It's so dark she won't see us.”
“It was all black in the ice-house, and I was so scared I didn't call her, but she saw me; and she will see me now, no matter how dark it is,” returned confiding Rob, standing up to peer into the gloom for the help which never failed him.
“I see her! I see her!” he cried, and ran as fast as his tired legs would take him toward a dark figure slowly approaching. Suddenly he stopped, then turned about, and came stumbling back, screaming in a great panic,
“No, it's a bear, a big black one!” and hid his face in Nan's skirts.
For a moment Nan quailed; ever her courage gave out at the thought of a real bear, and she was about to turn and flee in great disorder, when a mild “Moo!” changed her fear to merriment, as she said, laughing,
“It's a cow, Robby! the nice, black cow we saw this afternoon.”
The cow seemed to feel that it was not just the thing to meet two little people in her pasture after dark, and the amiable beast paused to inquire into the case. She let them stroke her, and stood regarding them with her soft eyes so mildly, that Nan, who feared no animal but a bear, was fired with a desire to milk her.
“Silas taught me how; and berries and milk would be so nice,” she said, emptying the contents of her pail into her hat, and boldly beginning her new task, while Rob stood by and repeated, at her command, the poem from Mother Goose:—