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diff --git a/36672-h/36672-h.htm b/36672-h/36672-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b22cf26 --- /dev/null +++ b/36672-h/36672-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9266 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tripping with the Tucker Twins, by Nell Speed. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + .blockquot2{margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox2 {border: dotted;; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .big {font-size: 110%;} + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .adtitle1 {font-size: 200%; text-align: center; font-weight: bold;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + .hang1 {text-indent: -3em; margin-left: 3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tripping with the Tucker Twins, by Nell Speed + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Tripping with the Tucker Twins + +Author: Nell Speed + +Release Date: July 9, 2011 [EBook #36672] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRIPPING WITH THE TUCKER TWINS *** + + + + +Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, +Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px;"> +<img src="images/trip-img002.png" width="351" height="500" alt="The room we girls were to occupy was a great square chamber with a large window looking on a cobbled street." title="" /> +<span class="caption">The room we girls were to occupy was a great square chamber with a large window looking on a cobbled street.<br /> +(<i>Frontis</i>) (<i>Tripping with the Tucker Twins</i>)</span> +</div> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='bbox'> +<h1>TRIPPING WITH THE TUCKER TWINS</h1> + +<div class='author'><span class="smcap">By</span> NELL SPEED</div> + +<div class='center'> +<span class="smcap">Author of</span><br /> +"The Molly Brown Series," "The Carter<br /> +Girls Series," etc.<br /><br /><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage_illus.png" width="350" height="341" alt="Title_image" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +Publishers New York<br /> +<span class='small'>Printed in U. S. A.</span><br /> +</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + + +<div class='copyright'> +Copyright, 1919,<br /> +<h3>BY</h3>/> +<h2>HURST & COMPANY, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span></h2>/> +<br /> +<br /> +MADE IN U. S. A.<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left' colspan='2'><span class='small'>CHAPTER</span> </td><td align='left'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>I. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Assets and Liabilities</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>II. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Earning a Living</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>III. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Tempest in a Teapot</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IV. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">What Zebedee Said</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>V. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Trip to Charleston</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_64">64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Through the Grille</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Abandoned Hotel</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_98">98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>VIII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Tucker Tact</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>IX. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Churchyards</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>X. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Heavenly Vision</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_143">143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Guitar</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_161">161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Moral Courage</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_172">172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Engaging Board</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_189">189</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIV. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Clerk of the Council</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XV. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Who Won the Bet?</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Letters</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Miss Arabella</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_244">244</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XVIII. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Chance for Louis</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XIX. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Red, Red Rose</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XX. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">More Letters</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'>XXI. </td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Summing Up</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> +<h2>Tripping with the Tucker Twins</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>ASSETS AND LIABILITIES</div> + + +<p>After our boarding-school burned on that +memorable night in March, it seemed foolish to +start to school again so late in the season; at +least it seemed so to the Tucker twins and me. +Their father and mine were rather inclined to +think we had better enter some institute of +learning in Richmond or take extra classes, do +something besides loaf; but we earnestly pleaded +to be let off for the rest of the year, and they +succumbed to our entreaties.</p> + +<p>My ankle gave me a good deal of trouble. +You remember, no doubt, how I sprained it getting +out of the second-story window when the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +false alarm of fire rang, the afternoon before +the real <i>bona fide</i> fire. Dee's first aid to the injured +was all very well for the time being, but +when we arrived in Richmond a surgeon had to +be called to attend to it, and the ankle was put +in plaster.</p> + +<p>"A sprain can be much more serious than a +break," the surgeon said solemnly as he looked +at the much swollen foot and ankle. "I shall +have to take an X-ray of this to be sure no +bones are broken, and then, young lady, you +will have to be quiet for some days, how many +I can't yet tell."</p> + +<p>Never having been disabled in my life, I had +no idea how irksome it could become. On no +account to put your foot to the ground and to +feel perfectly well is about as hard a job as +could be given me, an active country girl. +Father came up from Milton and heartily agreed +with the surgeon in charge.</p> + +<p>"I have set a carload of broken legs in my +time and bandaged a wagonful of ankles, and I +am sure I have had less trouble from the legs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +than the ankles. It is because, as a rule, a sprain +is not treated seriously enough. Now, honey, +you have got to sit still and take it."</p> + +<p>I sat still all right, although it nearly killed +me to do it. Not even crutches were allowed +for a week for fear I might be tempted to bear +my weight on the offending member.</p> + +<p>The Tuckers, father and twins, were goodness +itself to me. I was afraid to express a wish, +because no matter how preposterous it was they +would immediately rush off and try to get whatever +silly thing I had in a careless moment expressed +a desire for. For instance, one day Dum +came in enthusiastic over a new drugstore drink +she had discovered:</p> + +<p>"Vanilla ice cream with fresh pineapple +mixed up with it, orange syrup and lots of bubbly +soda! The best mess you ever sucked +through a straw!"</p> + +<p>"Ummm-ummm! Sounds good to me! When +I can trust this old limb of Satan I am going to +make straight for that drugstore and drink three +of them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker had just arrived from the newspaper +office where he labored many hours a +day. He must have been tired sometimes, but +he never looked it and never complained of +work. Eternal youth seemed to belong to him, +and undying energy.</p> + +<p>"Good? I think it sounds awful!" he exclaimed. +"You girls must astonish your poor +little insides with the impossible mixtures you +put in 'em."</p> + +<p>"I think it sounds fine, and I am surely going +to have three of them just as soon as I can +toddle."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker laughed and left the room, and I +wearily resumed a not very interesting book I +was reading while Dum followed her father. +I read on, hoping to come to something better. +I fancy not more than ten minutes had elapsed +when father and daughter burst into the room, +Dum carrying two foaming soda-water glasses +and Zebedee one. The dauntless pair had actually +cranked up Henry Ford, as they dubbed +their little old automobile, and speeded down to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +the drugstore where they knew how to make +that particular mixture, and brought them back +to me.</p> + +<p>"Your blood be on your own head if you +drink them. They look pizen to me."</p> + +<p>But drink them I did, all three, much to the +wonderment of Zebedee, who declared that girls +were fearfully and wonderfully made. I did +feel slightly fizzly, but after my kind friends had +brought them to me and even braved the danger +of arrest and fine for speeding, trying to get the +drinks to me with the foam on, I felt it was up +to me to show my appreciation. The only way +to show it was to drink the soda. What if I +did burst in the effort?</p> + +<p>The Tucker twins and I were almost seventeen, +our birthdays coming quite near together, +and their father, now Zebedee to all of us, was +about thirty-seven, I think, almost thirty-eight. +The Tuckers were so irresponsible in some ways +that I often felt myself to be older than any +of them, although I was certainly not very staid +myself. Zebedee always declared he was just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +grown up enough to keep out of debt, but keep +out of debt he would no matter what temptations +he had to withstand. Tweedles regarded +debt as the only lawful state, and hard they +found it to keep within their allowance, but the +one time when Zebedee was really severe was +when they exceeded that allowance. Dum was +worse about it than Dee, as her artistic temperament +made it hard for her to keep up with +money.</p> + +<p>"It just goes, and I don't know where!" she +would exclaim.</p> + +<p>When we got back to Richmond after the fire, +one day when Zebedee was in Norfolk attending +a convention of newspaper men, to be gone +several days, the sisters realized that a day of +reckoning had arrived and they must take stock +of their assets and liabilities. Each one had borrowed +small sums from various friends at +school, intending to pay back out of allowances +forthcoming, and also expecting to realize large +sums from old clothes that our washerwoman +would sell on commission to the colored contingent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +in the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'vllge'">village</ins>. Colored people for some +unknown reason would much rather have +clothes that have been worn by white people +than new ones out of shops. Of course the fire +had interrupted this traffic and Tweedles never +expected to see the money owed them by our +washerwoman's clients.</p> + +<p>"I could have worn that corduroy skirt for +months longer, but I thought I could get two +dollars and a half for it at least and help get +out of debt," wailed Dee.</p> + +<p>"And I just loved my blue linen shirtwaist +and the frayed cuffs hardly showed at all, and +now the old washerwoman has got my shirt and +the fifty cents, too—to say nothing of my old-rose +dinner dress that I am scared to death +about every night for fear Zebedee will ask me +why I don't wear it. He always liked the color +of it so much," and Dum looked ready to weep.</p> + +<p>"Well, girls, count it all up and see where you +stand; maybe I can lend you enough to get you +out," I said.</p> + +<p>"You sound like we were in jail," declared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +Dee ruefully. "I don't see how on earth you +keep on top so yourself. You seem to do as +many things as we do and always pay your +share, and still you don't get in debt."</p> + +<p>"I don't know how it is," I laughed, "unless +I am like the Yankee who left his wife a large +fortune, much to the astonishment of his +neighbors, who did not know he had anything. +When questioned as to the way her husband +had made the money, the wife said: 'Wal, you +see my husband was powerful fond of oysters, +and whenever he went up to the city he just +didn't get any.' You girls don't know how free +you are with money. If you buy a paper that +costs a penny you always say, 'Keep the +change!' And then when a tip of ten cents is +all that is necessary, you invariably give twenty-five."</p> + +<p>"I know that's so," they contritely tweedled.</p> + +<p>"Count up and see where you're at," and then +they figured in silence for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"I owe five dollars and seventy-three cents," +said Dee, getting hers added up first and emptying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +her purse; "I've got just thirty-seven cents +and a street car ticket between me and the penitentiary."</p> + +<p>"And I owe seven dollars and twenty-three +cents and I haven't got anything but a green +trading stamp and a transfer to Ginter Park +that I did not use," and Dum searched in the +corners of her purse for a possible penny that +might have escaped her.</p> + +<p>"I've three dollars and will have some more +soon, as father is going to send me a check for +a spring suit. You let me pay you both out of +debt."</p> + +<p>"We just can't. It only puts off the evil hour. +We can't let you give us the money, and how +will we ever pay it back?"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you earn it?" I ventured.</p> + +<p>"Earn it! Splendid! But how? Dum +earned fifty cents once making paper dolls to +sell at the Arts and Crafts, and Zebedee pays +us both to dust the books and put them back in +the right places, something the housemaids are +incapable of doing; but this money we must earn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +without letting Zebedee get on to it. Where's +the morning paper?"</p> + +<p>But Dum had already got it and was poring +over the want ads. Dee had to content herself +with the news section, while Dum monopolized +the "Help Wanted—Female" part.</p> + +<p>"What's this?" demanded Dee, reading headlines: +"'Ordinance to prohibit the drivers of +jitney cars!' That is a sin and a shame. I can't +see why they can't let the poor men make a little +money without issuing ordinances. Oh, it is +only under consideration! They may not pass +it——</p> + +<p>"By the great Jumping Jingo, I've got a +scheme! I'm going to turn Henry Ford into a +jitney bus. Zebedee'll be away for two more +days, and by the time he comes back I bet I'll +have enough to pay my debts and blow us all to +the swellest supper at Rueger's."</p> + +<p>Jitneys had just reached Richmond that +spring, and every man or boy out of work who +could beg, borrow or steal an old tumbled-down +car had gone into the business of running a jitney.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +The streets were swarming with them, and +the public, pleased with the novelty, patronized +them to the neglect and chagrin of the trolleys. +Of course there were some drivers who would +hardly have been trusted with coal carts, and +there were many accidents by reason of this. +We adored the jitneys. Of course, I had not +been able to ride in them because of my ankle +keeping me house-bound, but I loved to see them +swing around the corner, and always had my +chair or sofa in the bay window where I could +get a good view of them. There seemed to be +such a happy, good-natured crowd of passengers; +and certainly many a shopgirl and workingman +got to ride in a jitney who had despaired +before of ever being fortunate enough to get +into an automobile. The Tuckers were strong +upholders of the poor man's rights and patronized +the jitneys whenever their own Henry +Ford was out of commission or in use by some +other member of the family.</p> + +<p>"But what will your father say?"</p> + +<p>"More than likely he will say something that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +won't bear repetition, but by that time I will +have paid my debts."</p> + +<p>"But will they let girls run one?"</p> + +<p>"How are they going to help it? The ones +who are running them are liable to be stopped +any day, but so far there are no laws one way +or the other about it, and I am going to get in +my licks before they have time to make any. +Besides, I am not going to look very feminine."</p> + +<p>"That's what I get for being a pig and +snatching up the want column before you could +get it. Now if I had let you have it like a lady +I could have got the jitney scheme first," grumbled +Dum.</p> + +<p>"What difference does that make? You can +go in on it, you goose!"</p> + +<p>"But I'm not going in. I think I ought to +earn something my own way. That was your +scheme, and I am not going to butt in on it."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know you are welcome; but suit +yourself."</p> + +<p>"But, Dee, you say you are not going to look +very feminine. Surely you are not going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +wear pants?" I asked, aghast at what these +Heavenly Twins would do next.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! I have no intention of landing in +the pen. I'm just going to make up the upper +half to look mannish. I'll wear Zebedee's big +coat, which I tried to make him take to Norfolk +with him and he wouldn't, just to be stubborn. +Now ain't I glad?" and she put it on to +show how well it fitted. "If it is a nice cool +day I can keep the collar turned up so! Now +there is no law about a lady's hat, and I am going +to wear Zebedee's chauffeur's cap." She +accordingly put it on, pulling it well down over +her ears. "Now all I need is a dirty face. +I've never yet seen a jitney driver who did not +have a shady face. I wonder if I had not better +just acquire it by the natural method of +gradual accumulation, or if I could smudge it +on tomorrow morning."</p> + +<p>By this time Dum and I were reduced to a +pulp with the giggles. Dum had for the time +being abandoned her search for a lucrative job +and had entered with zest into her sister's plans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your hair is too lumpy-looking under your +cap and it rides up too high on your head."</p> + +<p>"Well, it shall have to be cut off then. It +will grow out again."</p> + +<p>"Dee! No! You mustn't! That would make +your father really angry. Plait it in a tight rope +and put it down your neck, inside your collar."</p> + +<p>No sooner said than done, and now the cap +came down to meet the upturned collar.</p> + +<p>"You must wear Zebedee's gloves and take +off your ring. Your hands look mighty sissy. +You'll do fine if Henry Ford will just behave +and you don't have to get out to crank him. +It's too bad about the pants. You would be +perfect if you could just wear pants. If you +should have to get out, it would sho' be a joke +if you got arrested for wearing skirts. You +look terribly like a bad boy," and so she did. +"And now I must get back to the task of finding +a job for myself," and Dum returned wearily +to the want column. Dee's delightful get-rich-quick +scheme made everything else seem very +colorless.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Wanted—A mother's helper to mind four +children and wash dishes.' What do you reckon +the lazy thing would be doing while I was doing +all that for her? 'Wanted—Woman to wash +only by the day.' Does the idiot think +I could keep it up all night? Here +we are! 'Wanted—Twenty able-bodied young +women to apply between the hours of three and +five p. m. to make house-to-house canvass, +selling a number of household novelties.'" Dum +grabbed her hat and began to draw on her +gloves. "Here, Page, cut this out for me. It +is ten minutes to three now and I can just get +there!"</p> + +<p>Dum was out of the house before we could +say Jack Robinson, the clipping from the want +column grasped tightly in her hand and her +chin set in its determined, square, do-or-die +lines.</p> + +<p>"When Dum looks like that she always gets +what she goes after," said Dee, looking admiringly +after her twin as she jumped in Henry +Ford, who spent a large part of his waking life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +parked in front of the apartment house or newspaper +office. "Maybe going in a car, even a +bum one like Henry, will queer her game. If +she will only have sense enough to stop a little +to one side of the place!"</p> + +<p>We waited in almost breathless silence for +Dum's return, Dee experimenting with her hair +for the morrow's fray and I gazing out of the +window at the whirling jitneys skidding around +the corner, making hair-breadth escapes.</p> + +<p>"There she is!" and Henry Ford sure enough +threaded his way jauntily through the crowded +street, turned himself about like a graceful +skater and parked himself in good order just +one inch from the curb. The Tuckers were all +born chauffeurs, and, like most born chauffeurs +or riders or drivers, they showed their skill by +going faster than the law allows. They prided +themselves on being able to go very close to +things without touching them, and indeed I +have seen Henry Ford almost take the buttons +off the fat traffic cop at Seventh and Broad. +That time Zebedee was driving, and as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +skimmed by the grinning policeman he called +out:</p> + +<p>"If it had been after dinner I would have hit +you," and the delighted officer shook his fat +sides and patted his bay window with its row +of gleaming buttons, showing he understood +Mr. Tucker's joke. "There are two classes of +persons I always keep in with—policemen and +cooks. You can get into no very serious trouble +when you have them on your side," Zebedee +had laughed gaily.</p> + +<p>"I've got a job! I've got a job!" cried Dum, +almost breathless with haste and excitement as +she rushed into the room where Dee and I +waited.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Selling household novelties, of course. I'm +to report at eight in the morning. I was the +third girl to get in to see the boss. You never +saw such a pompadoured, gum-chewing crowd +in your life. I felt so ladylike I hardly knew +myself. The boss was sure some household +novelty himself. He is fat and soft, looks powerful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +like a dough ball, wears button shoes and +an embroidered vest, curly black hair done up +in a roach and stewed prune eyes and a full set, +upstairs and down, of false teeth that look like</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Thirty white horses on a red hill,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Now they dance, now they prance,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Now they stand still.'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"But, Dum, what on earth are household +novelties?" I gasped.</p> + +<p>"And how much are you to get?" demanded +Dee.</p> + +<p>"One at a time! There is a whole bunch +of novelties: one is a little plug to keep windows +from rattling; another a needle-threader; another +a silver polish; another a spot-knocker; a +patent batty-cake turner that makes the batty-cake +do the flipflap by pressing a button—either +for cakes or omelettes; then there's Mrs. +Rand——"</p> + +<p>"No, not really!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Rand was a miscellaneous implement +we had taken to boarding-school that had been +purchased from a street fakir and we had named<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +for the landlady at Willoughby Beach, who had +been very irate over the Tuckers having lost +the one she had in the cottage they rented from +her. It was a combination apple-corer, can-opener, +cheese-grater, potato-parer, and what +not. It was the kind of thing you could use +for everything but the things it was intended +for. It was a great screw-driver and tack +hammer and invaluable to gouge things out of +deep cracks.</p> + +<p>"I'll buy a Mrs. Rand with pleasure," I promised. +"I have never ceased to regret that I +did not save ours in the fire and let the pincushion +Cousin Park Garnett gave me perish +in the flames."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's one sale already! That means +five cents. I get five cents on every sale I +make."</p> + +<p>"I'll take a batty-cake turner just to see it do +the flipflap, if it takes a whole trip of fares to +pay for it."</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Dee! I'll ride in your jitney +if my work takes me in the West End."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>EARNING A LIVING</div> + + +<p>We were up bright and early the next morning. +I was dressed and tenderly cared for, +with my easy chair dragged into the bay window, +where I could command a view of the +street east and west as far as the eye could +reach. A housemaid, whose duty it was in the +morning to do up the Tuckers' apartment, was +cautioned to look in on me every half-hour to +see that I wanted for nothing.</p> + +<p>"Zebedee would kill us for leaving you this +way," declared Dum as she embraced me good-by. +"Nothing but the exigencies of the case +excuse us."</p> + +<p>"'My poverty and not my will consents,'" +quoted Dee. "We'll be in for lunch. We've +got to eat, and it might just as well be here." +The maid was instructed to bring a generous +supply of lunch up to the apartment at one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +o'clock. "If we have it up here I won't have +to wash my face. I have worked so hard to +make the dirt on it look casual that I can't contemplate +going all over it again."</p> + +<p>Of course my meals had to be brought up to +me from the café because of my old ankle, and +the girls often had theirs brought up, too, although +they preferred going down as a rule. +They insisted they missed too many tricks by +having them sent up. "No second and third +helps to pie, and the one help you get too dainty +for us."</p> + +<p>"Look out the window for me every ten minutes +or so and pray that Henry won't get +cranky and have to be cranked and have me expose +my skirts to the rude gaze of the public," +begged Dee as she hugged me good-by. She +had to forego the kiss as she was afraid of +rubbing off her dirty make-up, and I was quite +willing to have it thus. Brindle, her beloved +bulldog, was not so squeamish as I, however, +and gave her an affectionate and disastrous +lick. "Brindle can keep you company, honey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +Good-by, darling," to the dog. "I'm going to +take you down to your household necessity, +Dum, and I am going to do it for nothing, too. +I am loaded to the guards with gas. I reckon +I won't put out my sign until I get downtown. +I'll start my trade from down there."</p> + +<p>Dum had lettered the jitney sign for her the +evening before. It was most artistic, done in +large blue letters on white cardboard:</p> + +<div class='center'><div class='bbox2'> +MONUMENT AVENUE<br /> +<br /> +5c JITNEY 5c +</div></div> + +<p>Dee was not a day too soon in her venture, +for already the authorities were taking the +matter of the jitney business in hand, and the +privilege of running a jitney without special +license and a $5,000 bond was on the verge +of being withdrawn from the legion of owners +of broken-down Fords.</p> + +<p>My morning was far from dull. The attentive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +maid came popping in every few minutes, +I had a pile of new magazines and papers, and +there was the never-dying excitement of watching +for Dee and her blue-and-white sign.</p> + +<p>On her return trip, after taking Dum to the +household necessities, she had a lone passenger—certainly +not enough money in that to pay for +the gas; but on the downtown trip she caught +many an early worm, and her car was actually +running over. At that time there were no rules +about standing on the steps and overcrowding, +and Dee had taken in every one who had raised +a finger. I counted thirty-five cents, which +was going some for a five-passenger car. Dee +had a small plaid shawl which she had wrapped +around her legs to conceal her skirt. She looked +as much like a boy as Zebedee himself must +have at her age. She never forgot to look up +at my window, and, on seeing me, would touch +her cap in a most gentlemanly way, a grin on +her funny, dirty face.</p> + +<p>Up to nine-thirty her downtown trips were +all crowded, while her outgoing ones were but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +sparsely patronized. Then there was a lull in +her traffic until about eleven, when the shoppers +began to pour downtown. Women and +babies! women and babies! Sometimes women +and dogs! Brindle, who never left the window, +and seemed to be watching for Dee and Henry +Ford as eagerly as I was, resented the dogs very +much. He felt that his rightful place was in +that car, and any dog who dared get in it was +to be disciplined through the window glass if +he could not reach him in any other way.</p> + +<p>Every time Dee raised her dirty face and +grinned at us Brindle would tremble all over +with excitement and joy. I trembled, too, for +fear that he would break the great pane of glass, +he scratched on it with such vigor.</p> + +<p>Before the hordes of shoppers were disposed +of the men and business women began to jitney +their way back to their homes for luncheon. +It was actually almost one o'clock. I could +hardly believe it. The morning had been +fraught with excitement to me as I had kept +account of Dee's earnings, and in watching for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +her and keeping up with her gains I had had +little time for literature.</p> + +<p>At one o'clock sharp, Henry Ford, shorn of +his gorgeous blue-and-white placard, parked in +front of the apartment house, and in a moment +a breathless and excited Dee was hugging first +Brindle and then me, quite careless of her +make-up.</p> + +<p>"Gee, but I am tired and hungry! It is a +sin to be wasting all those fares. Just see how +crowded the jitneys are! But I am so hungry +I'm fittin' to bust. Where's Dum? Here, count +my earnings while I scrape off enough dirt to +eat." She poured into my lap a pile of silver +and nickels.</p> + +<p>"Four dollars and fifteen cents!" I called to +her in the bathroom, where she was punishing +her begrimed face. "I counted more than that; +I kept watching and saw you every time you +passed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I took a load of old soldiers out to +the Soldiers' Home for nothing. I gave them +the time of their lives. They were so tickled, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +took them down and back again. That made +sixty cents short."</p> + +<p>That was so like Dee and explained the many +old men I had seen in the car.</p> + +<p>Dum came bursting in just as the maid +brought a tray laden with food. "Lord love us, +but I'm tired! I have had a rip-roaring time, +though. I can get off a spiel that would sell +household novelties to Fiji Islanders. Mrs. Rand +has taken like hot cakes, and the batty-cake +turner went with it to turn those cakes." She +had with her a disreputable-looking canvas telescope +that contained her samples. Her job was +to go from house to house and take orders, to +be delivered later. Her pocket was bursting +with signed agreements to pay for said wares +on delivery. "Here, Page, please count 'em up +and see how rich I am. What did you make, +Dee? I am dying to hear all about your morning! +You tell first and then I'll tell."</p> + +<p>"I made four dollars and fifteen cents. I +can't tell you about my morning now because +I've got to eat with my mouth. I'm missing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +fares until it makes me sick," and Dee jumped +into her lunch with such vim that Dum and +I deemed it wiser to eat, too, for fear there +would be nothing left from the voracious jitneur.</p> + +<p>"Henry did not have to be cranked but once, +and that was when we were at the end of the +line up at Robinson Street and there were no +passengers in. I bumped over a high car track, +and you know how indignant that makes old +Henry. I was awfully glad I had just dumped +my last fare. Not a soul saw my skirts." This +was mumbled with a full mouth as Dee steadily +stoked up, accomplishing in about ten minutes +one of the largest meals I ever saw.</p> + +<p>"Dee, I am afraid you will have apoplexy or +something," Dum remonstrated.</p> + +<p>But Dee declared that a workingman must +eat a lot. She could easily digest anything she +could accommodate, and she was not quite full +yet. Finding I had not tasted my consommé, +for being shut up as I was my appetite was +nothing to boast of, Dee drank it down on top<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +of cocoanut pie and currant jelly, the dessert +she had just finished.</p> + +<p>"To fill up the cracks!" she exclaimed, and +with a whirl she was out of the apartment and +back in her jitney once more, alert for fares.</p> + +<p>"Isn't she a great girl, though?" said Dum, a +little wistfully. "Four-fifteen was a good haul. +Have you counted up my pledges yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you have twenty-seven. At five cents +apiece that makes one dollar thirty-five cents. +That's not a bad morning's work."</p> + +<p>"No, that's not so bad, and maybe I can do +better this afternoon. I am going to kick for +another part of town tomorrow. They gave +me the swellest part of Franklin Street, and so +many of the houses were where our friends +live that it was hard to be businesslike. I put +it up to them as a perfectly businesslike proposition, +however, and would not let them sign +up unless they wanted my wares for their own +sake, not mine. I had an awful time with your +cousin, Park Garnett. She made out she did +not know me, and I did not force my acquaintance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +on her, but I just talked and talked +and made her look at everything I had—Mrs. +Rand, batty-cake flapper, and all the needle-threaders, +spot-knockers, and silver polish—and, +what's more, I did not leave her ugly, ponderous +old house until I had made her sign up for fifteen +cents' worth of household necessities—I +mean fifteen cents for me. I expatiated on Mrs. +Rand until there was nothing for her to do but +own one, and I played battledore and shuttlecock +with her ball of gray yarn (of course she +was knitting another shawl with purple scallops) +and the batty-cake turner until she was dizzy +and would have signed up to get me out of the +house, I think. She bought some silver polish, +too, because I took her fat old pug up in my +lap and showed her how much his collar needed +rubbing. Jeremiah, the blue-gummed butler, +was fascinated by my wares, and kept tiptoeing +back into the room to fix the fire or pretend he +heard the bell or something. That put it into +my head to make the rest of the rounds in the +backs of the houses, where the servants can see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +my novelties, and I had fine luck. I am going to +stick to the alleys and back doors all afternoon."</p> + +<p>Dum was, as usual, perfectly open and +straightforward, with absolutely no idea of concealing +her identity. I had not dreamed that +she was contemplating going into the homes of +her friends and acquaintances with her peddling +job. I couldn't help wondering what Mr. +Tucker would say to it. He was accustomed to +the scrapes of his progeny and used to say just +so long as they told the truth and kept out of +jail, he could stand it; but these new escapades +did seem to be a little more serious than any +they had heretofore plunged into. They were certainly +not doing anything wrong from a moral +standpoint, but they were giving Mrs. Grundy +a chance to do a lot of gabbling. I could not +help laughing over Cousin Park, although I secretly +wished that Dum could have started her +back-door canvassing before she reached that +ponderous edifice belonging to my relative. +It merely meant that Mrs. Garnett would have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +some tangible grievance against my friends, +for whom she held a prejudice that no politeness +on their part seemed to do away with. +Certainly Zebedee had been very kind and +pleasant to her on several occasions, and he +had been quite attentive to her on that memorable +picnic the summer before. He had also +done all that was required of him toward entertaining +her guest, Mabel Binks, in the early +part of the winter. In fact, Tweedles and I felt +that he had done more than common politeness +required toward the amusement of that flashy +young woman.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell Cousin Park I was in town?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed; I never claimed acquaintance +with her, I tell you! She made out that she had +never seen me before and I fell in with her +mood and just be'ed an agent, only that and +nothing more. Sometimes I think maybe she +really did not know me. You know she won't +wear glasses all the time and I believe her eye-sight +is bad."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>I devoutly hoped this to be the case. I had +not informed Cousin Park of my presence in +Richmond and had father's consent to this concealment, +as we both of us knew that she would +be tearing around and drag me out of the Tuckers' +apartment and incarcerate me in her prison-like +mansion, whether I would or no. Father +and I felt the same way about her house. +Father always said he was afraid the butler, +Jeremiah, would bite him, and every one brought +up by a mammy knew that "to be bit by a blue-gummed +nigger was certain death." Jeremiah +was really a very nice old man in spite of his +lugubrious air of officiating at your funeral +while he was actually serving the very heavy +viands with which Mrs. Garnett's oiled walnut +table was laden.</p> + +<p>"Maybe she didn't know you, after all," I +ventured cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Well, if she didn't or did, it is all one to +me. I don't have to deliver the novelties, as that +is done by some trustworthy person employed +steadily by the boss, and in the meantime I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +earned fifteen cents at the funereal mansion. I +must tear myself away now and begin a systematic +visiting of the back doors of the homes +fronting Monroe Park. Good-by, honey," and +Dum, too, was gone.</p> + +<p>Brindle and I were left to watch for the meteoric +appearances of Dee and to get through +the afternoon as best we might.</p> + +<p>Dee did a thriving business. As the afternoon +went on she never passed without a car +full and sometimes running over. Her face +was tense and as often as not she forgot to look +up and salute Brindle and me.</p> + +<p>"She will be a tired little girl when the day +is over," I said to Brindle, and he wagged his +tail and snuffled his appreciation of my noticing +him. Dee had just passed, the back seat of +Henry two-deep with passengers and on the +front seat a very dressy looking young woman +who seemed to be sitting very close to the stern +young jitneur. That was one of the times Dee +had forgotten to look up and poor Brindle was +in deep distress.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A TEMPEST IN A TEAPOT</div> + + +<p>It was almost dark and still the twins had +not returned. The maid came in and turned +on the electric light and brought me the menu +from the café. I ordered a substantial dinner +for the three of us and with the assistance of +the good-natured girl got myself into another +dress and smoothed myself up a bit.</p> + +<p>A quick step sounded in the hall just as I +settled in my chair and the maid went down to +order dinner. Tweedles at last—one of them, +anyhow! It turned out to be Mr. Tucker, and +I was covered with confusion! What on earth +was I to say to him? What business did he +have coming home before he was expected?</p> + +<p>"Hello, little friend! Where are those girls? +You don't mean that both of them have had the +heartlessness to go out at one time and leave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +you all by yourself? I wouldn't have thought +it of them!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they—they—I reckon they'll be in soon. +I haven't been lonesome at all. Brindle and I +have been looking out of the window at the +jitneys—" dangerous ground! If the girls +wanted to tell their father of their escapades +they were to be allowed to do so, but it was +not my business. Why didn't they come on in? +I knew they would sooner or later divulge to +their beloved Zebedee, but they had certainly +meant to get all over with their schemes while +he was away.</p> + +<p>"We weren't looking for you until day after +tomorrow," I stammered.</p> + +<p>"Well, is that any reason why you shouldn't +be glad to see me now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! We are glad to see you—that is, +I am."</p> + +<p>"That is to say, Tweedles will not be?" he +questioned.</p> + +<p>"Of course they will be." Why, oh, why +didn't they come on?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>Weary footsteps dragging along the hall and +Dum appeared. Her hat was on one side, not +at a jaunty angle but just at that hopelessly +out-of-plumb slant. Her face was dirty enough +to suit Dee's idea of a jitney driver. Her hair +was dishevelled and her shoes very dusty.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Page, only fifteen orders in all the afternoon +and I am nearly dead! I'll never be able to +make a living peddling household no—— What,—you!" +and her mouth formed itself into a +round O as she spied her wonderful parent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I!"</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, me! If you understand that better."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Is that all you can say when I chased back +from the meeting in Norfolk expecting to find +three lone ladies so glad to see me? Page greets +me with an icy mitt, and now all you can say is +'You!' and 'Oh!' Where is Dee? Maybe she +will at least ask me how I am."</p> + +<p>More tired footsteps dragging along the hall, +and in came Dee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am rolling in wealth but I am so tired that +nobody had better say 'boo' to me or I'll weep."</p> + +<p>"'Boo!'" said Zebedee.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you?" and Dee proceeded to burst into +tears which certainly did not improve her begrimed +countenance.</p> + +<p>"Great heavens! What is the matter?" he +cried, turning fiercely on Dum.</p> + +<p>Dum did the most natural thing in the world +for a poor little half-orphan who had been trying +to pay her debts by honest toil, selling household +novelties at back doors and tramping up and +down cobble-stoned alleys until she had worn a +blister on her heel—she just burst out crying, too.</p> + +<p>Zebedee looked hopelessly at me, evidently expecting +me to be dissolved in tears, too, but the +ludicrous side of things had struck my risibles +and, willy-nilly, I succumbed to laughter. Brindle, +however, was sympathetic with his beloved +mistress, and set up such a howling as never was +heard before.</p> + +<p>"By the great Jumping Jingo! What is the +matter? Have I done something? Is anybody<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +dead? What do you mean, Dee, by having on +my coat and cap? What do you mean, Dum, by +fifteen orders? Page, you can speak; tell me +what's up."</p> + +<p>"I—I——"</p> + +<p>"Go on and tell him, Page!" tweedled the +twins, trying to control their emotions.</p> + +<p>"Well, Tweedles got a little behind with their +finances and the fire came along at Gresham at +a rather inopportune moment as they were expecting +to save up on allowances——"</p> + +<p>"And the old clothes! Don't forget the old +clothes!" from a very crumpled-up Dee.</p> + +<p>"They also were negotiating some sales with +the laundress, of cast-off clothing." Zebedee was +looking me through and through with his ice-blue +eyes. I had never had the least fear of him from +the moment I had met him, but now I felt, to +say the least, quite confused. He looked stern, +and his eyes, which had been only the color of +blue, blue ice, but always seemed warm, were now +as cold as ice, too.</p> + +<p>"Well, go on!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The fire broke out and now the old laundress +has the clothes and the money, too. So Tweedles +were all broken up over owing so much money +and I suggested that they turn in and earn some."</p> + +<p>"You suggested it?" still very coldly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suggested it, and I would do the same +thing again. I think it is a great deal better for +people to get to work and pay off their debts at +any honest labor than to keep on owing them——"</p> + +<p>I gulped and got red. I was tired of having +Mr. Tucker look at me with his cold expression +of a criminal judge. I had done nothing wrong, +and neither had the girls, for that matter. I felt +a great wave of anger rising in me, and I stood +up on my bad ankle, forgetting all about having +one, and faced my host, ready for battle. He +looked rather startled, and the twins stopped sobbing +and began to dry their eyes on two very +grimy handkerchiefs. I do not often get very +angry, but there was something about being +looked at as Zebedee looked at me, that made me +lose all control of myself. He made me feel that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +I was a bad little girl while he considered himself +a superior old gentleman. Now up to this time +the father of my two best friends had always +treated me like a grown-up young lady, and had +never made me feel that there was any difference +to speak of between his age and mine, and he had +no right with one wave of his hand to put me +back in the kindergarten class.</p> + +<p>"Why, Page——"</p> + +<p>"Don't 'Why, Page' me! You came back before +we expected you and startled us somewhat, +as Tweedles hoped to get the money earned before +you returned. The girls are dead tired and +need their dinner and kind sympathy instead of +being bullyragged——"</p> + +<p>"Page! Please! I only wanted to know how +Tweedles went to work to make all the money +you say they owe. I am not a bit angry, not the +least little bit. I think you are very unkind to +me."</p> + +<p>"Well, you looked at me so coldly and sneered +so."</p> + +<p>"No! You are mistaken!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, you did, when I said I suggested it."</p> + +<p>"I am awfully sorry, little friend," and now +his ice-blue eyes melted, literally melted, as he, +too, began to leak, as the Tuckers call their +free giving way to tears. You remember, it was +a trait of the family. They thought no more of +weeping than of laughing or sneezing. They +wept when they felt weepy just as they laughed +when anything amused them or sneezed when +they felt sneezy.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what you do, girls: you go on and +wash up and change your dresses, and then we'll +have dinner, and after dinner we'll talk it all +over like sensible people without getting angry +or huffy or anything that we might get." Zebedee +wiped his eyes and gave his girls a hug and kiss +in spite of their grimy, soiled countenances, and +then he turned to me as they flew to the bathroom +to do his bidding. I had become conscious of my +ankle as I stood there disobeying the doctor's +commands, and now that it was all over I flopped +back in my chair, feeling very grateful for its +support.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now you have gone and put your weight on +your foot and it is all my fault."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! Not at all!"</p> + +<p>"It is just as much my fault as that Tweedles +came in worn out with making a living and had +dirty faces and were hungry——"</p> + +<p>"Nobody said that was your fault!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what was my fault, then?"</p> + +<p>"It was your fault for looking at me so disapprovingly. +You were what Tweedles call Mr. +Tuckerish. You were so cold and grown-up and +made me feel so young and naughty, and as I had +not done a thing on earth but just suggest to the +girls that they try to earn some money, not specifying +how they should go about it, it did +seem hard that you should be so hard on me. It +hurt my feelings."</p> + +<p>"Well, on the other hand, little girl, how about +my feelings? Here I had come tearing home +from Norfolk expecting to find three charming +girls, all of them overjoyed to see me, and what +do I find? Nothing but 'What, yous!' from first +one and then the other—stammered greetings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +and then tears and flashing eyes and false accusations."</p> + +<p>At that I burst out laughing, and Zebedee did +the same. It was such a tempest in a teapot! I +was ahead of him, however, and by my sudden +anger over nothing or almost nothing I had unwittingly +turned his attention from Tweedles and +their misdemeanors, and now I was sure he would +be only amused over their escapade.</p> + +<p>"We are all of us mighty glad to have you +back. I don't see what made you think we +weren't."</p> + +<p>"Foolish of me, wasn't it? I realize now that +it was excess of emotion and delight that made +all of you behave as you did."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WHAT ZEBEDEE SAID</div> + + +<p>We ate dinner very quietly. The twins began +to perk up a bit in the salad course, and by the +time we got to Brown Betty and the Roman +punch they were quite themselves, except for a +langour that might have come from overeating +as much as from overexertion.</p> + +<p>Zebedee avoided the subject of money-making +with great tact. He had much to tell us of Mr. +and Mrs. Robert Gordon and their little home in +Norfolk and their happiness and hospitality. +Mrs. Gordon was or had been our beloved Miss +Cox, a teacher at Gresham. She had married +Mr. Gordon at Willoughby Beach the summer before +while she was chaperoning us, and all of us +felt that we had been instrumental in making the +match and were in a measure responsible for the +great happiness of the couple.</p> + +<p>The maid had removed all traces of dinner and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +we were seated snugly around the drop light on +the library table, a table that had been converted +into a dinner table when the Tuckers decided to +dine in their apartment, which boasted no housekeeping +arrangements. There was a deep silence +broken only by a smothered yawn from Dee. +Running a jitney for almost eleven hours is some +sleep-provoker.</p> + +<p>"Well, girls, aren't you going to take your poor +old father in out of the cold?" and Zebedee +looked appealingly at his daughters.</p> + +<p>"Well, it was this way——" they started in the +same breath.</p> + +<p>"One at a time, please! Dum, you begin."</p> + +<p>"Well, you see I owe seven dollars and twenty-three +cents to different girls at Gresham and I +didn't have a red cent and no telling how long +before allowances are due, so I just thought I'd +try to earn something. I found an ad for twenty +young women to sell household novelties and so +I applied for the job."</p> + +<p>"That was rather ambitious as a starter. Were +you going to be all twenty right from the first?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Silly and flippant! I got the job, at least one +twentieth of it, and started out this morning at +eight o'clock. I am to get five cents on every +sale. I went up and down Franklin and Grace +streets all morning, going in the front doors, but +this afternoon I tried the back doors because +naturally the servants are more interested in +these labor-saving devices than the mistresses; +besides, I saw so many people we know when I +went in the front way that I was afraid if they +bought from me they would do it from pity or +something, and I wanted to be very businesslike +and create a burning desire for the really excellent +articles I am selling. I didn't want to hold +up anyone."</p> + +<p>"That's right!" I was trembling for what +Zebedee would say about Dum's meeting all the +friends on her canvassing jaunt, but I realized +that I did not really know that gentleman as well +as I thought I did. He did not seem to mind in +the least if perhaps everyone in Richmond knew +that one of his girls had been out going from +house to house in the most fashionable residential<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +districts selling batty-cake flappers and spot-knockers.</p> + +<p>"I have made in all on commissions two dollars +and ten cents, I think. I have completely +worn out my shoes on the cobblestones in the +alleys and have got a blister on my heel as big +as all my commissions put together."</p> + +<p>"Have you collected your money yet?"</p> + +<p>"No! I don't get it until the goods are delivered +and my customers pay up."</p> + +<p>"How long does your job last?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, until the whole town is combed with a +fine tooth comb. Our boss wants every lady in +Richmond to have the advantage of these household +novelties." Dum unconsciously took on the +tone usual with the house-to-house canvasser.</p> + +<p>Zebedee gave a smile but there was no divining +what his real thoughts were any more than if +he had been the Sphynx herself. He looked to +me rather like a man who was seeing a real good +show and was deeply interested but reserving his +final opinion of the merits of the actors and the +playwright until the curtain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now, Dee, let's hear from you!"</p> + +<p>"Well,—while Dum was looking at the want +column, I saw on the front page that the poor +men who run jitneys were in a fair way to be +crowded out of their business by all kinds of ordinances +and things that were likely to be put +on them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, they won't have long to run without giving +bonds, etc."</p> + +<p>"I just knew how much you felt for the poor +men and approved of their venture, and so I just +decided I'd run a jitney myself for a day or so +and get myself out of debt. I owe five dollars +and seventy-three cents to schoolmates and did +not have but thirty-seven cents and a street car +ticket. I wanted to let Dum in on my scheme +but she said she would get out and earn her own +money. I did not dream I could make so much, +and indeed I couldn't have, if I had not speeded +like fun. The cops knew Henry in spite of his +sign, and I believe they knew me through the +dirt and make-up, and they never once stopped +me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course I had to run in high a lot and it +took gas, but I am going to pay for that out of +my earnings. I made four dollars and fifteen +cents this morning and I have not counted yet +what I took in this afternoon." She turned the +pockets of her father's greatcoat inside out into +my lap and the bills and coin made such a +showing that I thought it no wonder she had announced +she was rolling in wealth. I counted +six dollars and thirty-five cents. That made +ten dollars and fifty cents for the day's work.</p> + +<p>"I think being a jitneur is mighty hard work. +There is a nerve-racking something about it that +sho' does you up. In the first place there are +always some idiots on board, the kind that rock +the boat, and they will sit on the doors and are +liable at any time to go spinning into the street. +Then there are some old ladies who always drop +their nickels and then you stand chugging away, +scared to death for fear Henry will give up the +ghost, and that means getting out to crank up +when you have got on skirts and don't want to +flaunt them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have been wondering what you did about +your skirts."</p> + +<p>"Did nothing! Just ignored them! I didn't +have to crank up but once this morning, and that +was when I hit a hole out on Robinson Street +and Henry blinked out; but I had just got rid of +my last fare and no one saw my disgrace. This +afternoon I had awful bad luck. There were +three funerals and every single one of them +crossed my route and I had to wait for them to +pass. You know how Henry gets mad and stops +playing when he has to stand still too long—well, +every one of those funerals got me in bad. +One of them I was glad to see, as I was having +an awful time. A girl dressed up to beat the +band had got on the front seat with me and she +was lollapalusing all over me, and I had no room +to drive. She would talk to me, although I never +encouraged her with anything sweeter than a +grunt. I had made an awful mash and was up +against it. She got me so hacked I let a fare get +away from me,—man just got out and walked off +without paying. I felt like Rosalind must have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +felt when Phebe pursued her or like Viola when +Olivia got soft, but this girl was more of the +Phebe type. I was afraid she was going to spend +the afternoon with Henry and me. She had just +intimated that she would go on downtown +with us again and make a round trip when we +struck the funeral. Henry chugged away and +then stopped off short. I dropped the plaid +shawl I had my skirts wrapped up in and climbed +over the foolish virgin, and I tell you I blessed +the day I was born a girl then. I wish you could +have seen the minx. I cranked up and climbed +back, and there was no more lollapalusing from +her. She scrouged herself over into her own +corner and laughed a scornful laugh. The people +on the back seat had been amused by her +goings-on before, but when they found out I was +a girl, they roared with laughter and my mash +got out on the next corner. She gave me a dime +and told me I could keep the change, so I did not +lose anything after all from the man who sneaked +off."</p> + +<p>"You didn't really keep it?" exclaimed Dum.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Keep it! O course I did! It would have been +very melodramatic to hurl it after her. I was +not driving a jitney for my health. I was out +for money—rocks—spondulix—tin—the coin—and +that idiot's dime was just as good as any +man's. Besides, she had taken up more than her +share of room and owed me something for letting +the sneak get off.</p> + +<p>"That dollar bill! I bet you can't guess who +paid me that,—Mrs. Barton Alston. She got in +and handed me the dollar and said: 'Here, boy! +Just ride me until that is used up!' It was ten +round trips so she was with me a good part of +the afternoon. She said she never did get out in +automobiles much these days, that her friends +sometimes come and drive her out to the cemetery, +but she is tired of graveyards and wants to +cheer up some. She told me all this when we +were having a little spin alone, but I heard her +telling some of the fares the same thing. She +was real nice and jolly and took people on her lap +and did the honors of the jitneys with as much +graciousness as she used to entertain before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +they lost their money. I was sorry she was so +broad-beamed, as it was difficult to get three on +the seat while she stayed with me, and of course +when you are running a jitney every inch counts. +When her ten round trips were up, I hated to tell +her and took her another for luck. Some day +let's go get her, Zebedee, and take her out to +the Country Club or something and give her a +good time. She is mighty tired of being supposed +to be in retirement, mourning for Mr. +Alston. She never did recognize me, although I +talked to her quite freely. She called me 'Boy' +all the time. Gee whilikins, but she can talk!"</p> + +<p>"There are others!" put in Dum. "Do you +know you have not stopped once for half-an-hour?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not out of gas yet."</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon not! You are some self-starter, +too. Nobody has to get out and crank you up +and persuade you to get going. Funerals don't +stop you. You go in high all the time, go so fast +a traffic cop can't see your number."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm afraid I have monopolized the conversation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +some but it has been a very exciting +day. I'm going to divide up with you, Dum. I +believe between us we can get all of those +debts paid."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dee, that would be too good of you!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You worked just as hard as I did. +I believe in an equal distribution of wealth. +Count up, Page, and see where we stand."</p> + +<p>"Let's see! You made ten dollars and fifty +cents; Dum made two dollars and ten cents—that +makes twelve dollars and sixty cents. You owe +five dollars and seventy-three cents—Dum owes +seven dollars and twenty-three cents. That +makes twelve dollars and ninety-six cents. You +are thirty-six cents short."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I've got thirty-seven cents and a +street car ticket. That leaves a penny over, to +say nothing of the ticket. Hurrah! Hurrah!" +and those irresponsible Tuckers, all three of +them, got up and danced the lobster quadrille +with me in the middle. When they stopped, completely +out of breath, Dee exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Zebedee! I am awfully sorry, but I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +afraid you will have to pay for the gas after all. +I charged it."</p> + +<p>And all Zebedee said was: "I'll be——" and +just as Dee said would be the case, what he said +does not bear repetition and certainly is not to be +printed.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Barton Alston had many a treat from the +Tuckers. Dum did not collect her two dollars +and ten cents until she had made many trips to +the boss. He tried to persuade her to accept a +steady job with him as an agent for household +novelties, and while she naturally could not do +it, she declared it gave her a very comfortable +feeling that if she should have to earn her living +there was at least one avenue open to her.</p> + +<p>The day after Dee's success as a jitneur the +paper came out with headlines that the jitneys +were no longer within the law. Bonds must be +furnished, licenses must be paid, etc. Dee had +been not a day too soon in her venture.</p> + +<p>Zebedee never said one word of reproach to +Tweedles. When he gave voice to the unprintable +remark above he was through.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know I ought to do something about it," +he moaned to me several days after when he +caught me alone. "It was a very risky thing for +both of my girls—they might have got in no end +of scrapes—but what am I to do? If I row with +them and get Mr. Tuckerish even you get out +with me, and somehow I feel as long as the girls +tell me everything, that they can't get into very +serious mischief. I know I have not done my +part by them. If I had been the right kind of +unselfish father I would have married long ago +when they were tiny little tots and have had +some good, sensible woman bring them up."</p> + +<p>"They don't look at it that way."</p> + +<p>"Well, you could hardly expect them to 'kiss +the rod'."</p> + +<p>I laughed aloud at that.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I am wondering what the 'good, sensible woman' +would think at being called a rod. I wonder +if there is any woman good enough to undertake +the job of rod."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," he said ruefully. "You see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +when my little Virginia died, all my friends and +hers got busy and found a roomful of worthy ladies +that they considered the proper persons to +marry me and bring up the twins, but all of them +were rather rod-like in a way, and somehow I +never could make up my mind to kiss 'em either. +The trouble about me is I can't grow up, and +anyone whom my friends consider a suitable age +for me now, I look upon as a kind of mother +to me."</p> + +<p>"I think Tweedles are getting on pretty well +without a stepmother," I managed to say. I felt +about as bad as the twins themselves would have +at the thought of Zebedee's marrying again. +"They never do anything too bad to tell you, but +they do lots of things I fancy they would not tell +a stepmother."</p> + +<p>"Well, little friend, if you think that, I reckon +I'll worry along 'in single blessedness' for a while +yet."</p> + +<p>The Tucker Twins had been living in dread +of a stepmother ever since they had been conscious +of living at all. It was a theme with all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +of their relations and friends and one that was +aired on every occasion. "Jeffry Tucker should +marry again!" was the cry and sometimes the +battle cry of every chaperone in Richmond. As +Mr. Tucker said, it was always some good, settled +lady who needed a home and was willing to +put up with the twins who was selected as his +mate.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to run an old ladies' home. If +I ever marry I shall do it for some reason besides +furnishing a stepmother to my family and giving +a haven of refuge to some deserving lady."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to seem disloyal to Dum and +Dee, but I think it might be rather salutary if +you talk to them just as you have to me, I mean +about stepmothers and things. It might make +them a little more circumspect."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll try; but I am afraid I have +cried 'Wolf!' too often and they would just +laugh at me."</p> + +<p>Tweedles did listen to him quite seriously when +he broached the subject of his duty to marry +again and give them the proper chaperonage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Zebedee, please don't talk about such terrible +things. We'll be good and learn how to +sew," wailed Dum. "I'm going to make some +shirts the very first thing."</p> + +<p>"Oh please, please spare me! I couldn't bear +for you to get so good that I'd have to wear +home-made shirts!" And so the threat of a stepmother +was withdrawn for the time being.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A TRIP TO CHARLESTON</div> + + +<p>My ankle improved rapidly and in another +week I was able to walk and still another to +dance. I had been patience itself, so my friends +declared, and I am glad they thought so. I had +really been impatience itself but had kept it to +myself.</p> + +<p>"Girls, I've got a scheme!" exclaimed Zebedee +one evening after dinner. "I want to send a special +correspondent to South Carolina to write up +the political situation and I am thinking about +sending myself. If I do, I am going to take all +of you. I have written your father, Page, and +an answer came from him today. He says you +may go, as he knows it would do you good. I +haven't said anything about it to you girls until +I was sure I could work it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh goody, goody, goody! Where will we go +first?"</p> + +<p>"Charleston first! I may leave you there +awhile, as I have to do some knocking around, +but it will not be for very long, not more than a +day at a time."</p> + +<p>We plunged into shopping the very next day. +Father had sent me a check for necessary clothes, +and the all-important matter had to be attended +to speedily.</p> + +<p>"Let's get all of our things exactly alike and +pass for triplets! It would be such a scream on +Zebedee," suggested Dee.</p> + +<p>"Triplets, much! We'd just look like a blooming +orphan asylum and get in a book. It seems +to me that every book I pick up lately is about +orphan asylums. Chauffeurs and orphans and +aviators form the theme for every book or magazine +story I read. No, indeed! Let's get our +clothes just as different as possible," said Dum, +rapidly turning the pages in <i>Vogue</i>.</p> + +<p>"All right. Then we can wear each other's. +I'm going to get brown."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm crazy for dark green, if you don't think +it will make my freckles show on my nose too +much. My nose and its freckles are a great trial +to me."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You've got the cutest nose in Virginia +and Zebedee says he likes freckles," said +Dee, always tactful.</p> + +<p>"Well, he can have them, I'm sure I don't want +them. What color are you going to get, Dum?"</p> + +<p>"Anything but blue. There is a refinement +about blue that I can't stand right now. I want +something dashing and indicative of my sentiments +of its being my bounden duty to have a +good time."</p> + +<p>"Red?"</p> + +<p>"No, red's too obvious! I think I'll get lavender +or mauve. Then I can wear violets +(when I can get them). I think lavender suits +my mood all right. It is kind of widowish and +widows when they get into lavender are always +out for a good time. I tell you when widows +get to widding they are mighty attractive. I +don't see why they don't stay in their pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +white crêpe linings, though. They are so terribly +becoming. I mean to make a stunning +widow some day."</p> + +<p>"First catch your flea before you kill him," +taunted Dee.</p> + +<p>"Well, I can't see the use in having your hair +grow in a widow's peak on your forehead if you +can't ever be a widow. It seems such a waste."</p> + +<p>"There's time yet! You are only seventeen," +I laughed.</p> + +<p>"Seventeen is old enough to know what style +suits me best. Weeds are my proper environment."</p> + +<p>In spite of Dum's conviction about weeds she +purchased a most becoming and suitably youthful +suit in a soft mauve. Dee got exactly the +same style in brown and I in green. We deviated +in hats, however, and each girl thought +her own was the prettiest, which is a great test +of hats. Hats are like treats at soda fountains: +you usually wish you had ordered something +you didn't order and something your neighbor +did.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>Spring was late in making its appearance in +Virginia that year, but since we were going to +South Carolina we bravely donned our new +suits and hats. Zebedee declared he was proud +of us, we were so stylish.</p> + +<p>"I have a great mind to grow some whiskers +so people won't think I am your little nephew," +he said as he settled us in our section. The +three of us girls were to occupy one section, two +below and one above, lots to be cast how we +were to dispose ourselves.</p> + +<p>"Nephew, much! You've got three gray hairs +in your part now," declared Dee.</p> + +<p>"Each of you is responsible for one of them." +Mr. Tucker often classed me with his own girls +and really when I was with them I seemed to +be a member of the family. He treated me with +a little more deference than he did Tweedles +because he said I seemed to be older. I was really +a few days younger.</p> + +<p>Dee got the upper berth in the casting of lots +and Dum and I slept in the lower, at least, Dum +slept. I was conscious of much jerking and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +bumping of the train, and Dum seemed to be +demonstrating the batty-cake flipflapper all night.</p> + +<p>We had left Richmond with a belated sprinkling +of snow, but as we were nearing Charleston +at about five-thirty in the morning we ran +through a fine big thunder storm, and then torrents +of rain descended, beating against the windows. +Of course some bromide who got off the +train with us, said something about "the back-bone +of winter."</p> + +<p>What a rain! It seemed to be coming down +in sheets, and such a thing as keeping dry was +out of the question. Tweedles and I regretted +our new spring suits and straw hats, but since +we had been so foolhardy as to travel in them +we had to make the best of it and trust to luck +that they would not spot.</p> + +<p>The train had reached Charleston at six and +by rights it should have been dawn, but it was +as dark as pitch owing to the thunder clouds +that hung low over the city.</p> + +<p>Zebedee hustled us into a creaking, swaying +bus that reminded us somewhat of the one at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +Gresham. Other travelers were there ahead of +us and as everyone was rather damp the odor +of the closed vehicle was somewhat wet-doggish.</p> + +<p>We rattled over the cobblestones through narrow +streets, every now and then glimpsing some +picturesque bit of wall when we came to one of +the few and far between lamp posts. But it was +generally very dim and would have been dreary +had we not been in a frame of mind to enjoy +everything we saw and to look at life with what +Dee called "Behind-the-clouds-the-sun's-still-shining" +spirit.</p> + +<p>The bus turned into better lighted streets with +smoother paving.</p> + +<p>"Meeting Street," read Dum from a sign. +"Doesn't that sound romantic? Do you reckon +it means lovers meet here?"</p> + +<p>"It may, but I am very much afraid it just +means the many churches that abound on this +street," laughed Zebedee.</p> + +<p>I wondered who the people were in the bus +with us, but they seemed to take no interest at all +in us. There were two pale old ladies in black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +crêpe veils drawn partly over their faces; a dignified +old gentleman in a low-cut vest and a very +high collar with turned-down flaps that seemed +especially designed to ease his double chin; and a +young girl about sixteen or seventeen who had +evidently been in a day coach all night and was +much rumpled and tousled therefrom. She +seemed to belong to the pompous old gentleman, +at least I gathered as much, as I had seen him +meet her at the station and noticed he gave her +a fatherly peck of greeting. Not a word did they +utter however on that bumpy bus ride, and although +the two pale old ladies in crêpe veils had +stiffly inclined their shrouded heads as father and +daughter entered the vehicle and they in turn had +acknowledged the bow, not one word passed their +lips. Evidently a public conveyance was not the +proper place for Charlestonians to converse. The +girl, who was very pretty in spite of being +so tired and dishevelled, smiled a sympathetic +smile when Dum enthused over Meeting Street. +I had a feeling if we could get her by herself she +would chatter away like any other girl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>Perhaps the old man won't be so stiff when +he gets his breakfast. It is hard to be limber +on a wet morning and an empty stomach. When +one has so much stomach it must be especially +hard to have it empty, I thought.</p> + +<p>It seemed very impertinent of the omnibus to +bump this dignified old gentleman so unmercifully. +He held on to his stomach with both +hands, an expression of indignation on his pompous +countenance, while his double chin wobbled +in a manner that must have been very trying to +his dignity.</p> + +<p>The pale old ladies in crêpe veils took their +bumping with great elegance and composure. +When the sudden turning of a corner hurled one +of them from her seat plump into Zebedee's arms, +if she was the least disconcerted she did not show +it. A crisp "I beg your pardon!" was all she +said as she resumed her seat. She did pull the +crêpe veil entirely over her face, however, as +though to conceal from the vulgar gaze any emotion +that she might have felt. Of course we giggled. +We always giggled at any excuse, fancied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +or real. The pretty girl giggled, too, but turned +it into a cough as her father pivoted his fat little +person around and looked at her in evident astonishment.</p> + +<p>The bus backed up to our hotel where a grinning +porter was in readiness to capture our bags. +Our fellow travelers were evidently relieved at +our departure. I saw through the window that +both ladies put back their stuffy veils and that +the old gentleman relaxed his dignified bearing +somewhat and entered into conversation with +them. The young girl, however, peered rather +wistfully through the drenched pane at us as we +gaily took possession of the hotel lobby.</p> + +<p>"Wasn't she sweet! Maybe we will see her +again sometime," said Dee.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't see her at all from where I sat," +declared Zebedee. "Her old father's embonpoint +obstructed my view."</p> + +<p>The hotel where Zebedee had decided to take +us was not the newest and most fashionable in +Charleston, but he had heard it was the most +typical and that the cooking was quite good. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +had been built years before the famous earthquake, +and had still marks of that calamity. The +floors, many of them, had a down-hill tendency, +and there were cracks under the doors and I +believe not one right angle in a single wall of the +house.</p> + +<p>The room we girls were to occupy was a great +square chamber with a large window looking out +on a cobbled street. There were picturesque +doors, and walls with mysterious shuttered windows, +where one could occasionally see eyes peering +forth. It is against the Charleston code of +manners to open shutters or raise the blinds of +windows that look out on the street.</p> + +<p>The floor of our room was on a decided slant +and this caused a very amusing accident. There +was a large armchair with broad substantial +rockers into which Dum sank to rest her weary +bones until breakfast. The chair was pointed +down-hill and over Dum went backwards, and +nothing in the world but her fine new spring +hat saved her from getting a terrible bump on +her head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's like living in the Tower of Pisa!" she exclaimed +as we pulled her up.</p> + +<p>"You had better remember to rock up-hill next +time," admonished Dee. "I bet you, we will all +develop a mountain leg living on such a slant. +But isn't it fascinating? As soon as breakfast +is over, let's go out and explore. I want to peep +in the shutters all along the way and see what +everybody is having for breakfast and going to +have for dinner."</p> + +<p>"That's just the way I feel! If anything is +shut, I want to peep in. If it is locked, I want to +get in."</p> + +<p>Our hotel was run on the American plan and +our grinning waiter insisted upon bringing us +everything on the bill of fare. I think he saw in +Zebedee the possibilities of a liberal tip. In South +Carolina there is a law against tipping. In all +of the rooms of hotels the guests are reminded +of this by large printed placards, but like most +laws of the kind it seems made only to be broken.</p> + +<p>"The tight-wads who kicked against tipping +the poor colored servants now have the law on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +their side and can get out of it gracefully, but +the people who tip because they feel that the servants +have earned some little acknowledgment +of their faithful services, go on tipping just as +though no law had been made," said Zebedee, as +he slipped some silver under the side of his plate +in view of the watching darky, who pounced +upon it with a practiced hand, while making a +feint of removing finger bowls.</p> + +<p>"I am going to turn you girls loose now to find +your way around and seek out the wonders of +Charleston. I have work to do and politicians to +see."</p> + +<p>"All right! Don't worry about us!" tweedled +the twins.</p> + +<p>"I want to get a map of the city first," said +Dee, "so we can get our bearings," but Dum and +I cried down this project.</p> + +<p>"Let's find out things for ourselves and then +get a map and guide book to verify us. It's lots +more fun to go at it that way."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I know is that this hotel is on Meeting +Street, and on our right is Church Street and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +on our left King. The street under your window +is Queen, and if you walk south down Meeting +you come to the Battery. You can't get lost and +can't get in any trouble unless you try to climb +the spiked fences or get over the walls covered +with broken bottles. I'll meet you at luncheon at +one," and Zebedee took himself off to find out +things from some of the political lights of the +city.</p> + +<p>We were left to our own devices. The sun had +come out and if we had not been in the rain we +would not have believed it could have come down +in such torrents only a short while ago. Our +dresses did not spot.</p> + +<p>"Let's not go in any place this morning but +just walk around and see from the outside. It +would be low of us to do the graveyards and +things without Zebedee. He loves those things +and will want to see them," said Dee.</p> + +<p>It was a strange taste for one so cheerful, but +it was the truth that Mr. Tucker was especially +fond of poking around musty old churches and +reading epitaphs on tombstones.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>We walked to St. Michael's, looking longingly +through the iron gates at the quaint old tombstones, +but refrained from going in for Zebedee's +sake. We passed many beautiful old houses, +some of them in perfect repair, brave in fresh +paint, with trimmed hedges and gravel walks +in their lovely old gardens that we could see by +peering through the wrought-iron gates. Some +of the houses, though, looked as though they had +not been painted since the Revolution, and their +gardens were grown up with weeds, with ragged, +untrimmed hedges and neglected paths.</p> + +<p>Almost every house, big or little, boasts +a southern gallery or porch. The houses are built +right on the street, but the large door opens from +the street to the porch and not to the house. The +gardens are to the side and back, and, as a rule, +are surrounded by great brick walls with either +iron spikes across the top or ferocious broken +bottles cemented to the bricks. The windows, +opening on the street, are kept shuttered closely, +and iron bars give you to understand that there is +no breaking into Charleston society by night or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +day. The corners of the houses, where the +porches are, also are protected from possible interlopers +by great iron spikes, a foot long and +sharp enough to pierce the hide of a rhinoceros. +The porches are also shuttered, partly to protect +the inmates from the rude gaze of the passer-by +and partly to protect them from the ruder gaze +of the southern sun.</p> + +<p>There was almost no one on the street. The +Charleston men had gone to their places of business, +leisurely to pursue a desultory living, and +Charleston ladies do not go on the street in the +morning, so we were afterwards told. We met +several darkies crying their wares and saw an +occasional housewife making a furtive purchase +from some of these hucksters. These ladies, we +judged, only came out because their establishments +did not boast servants. As a rule, however, +the old cooks seemed to do the buying.</p> + +<p>The Charleston darky has a very peculiar +lingo, so peculiar, in fact, that Tweedles and I +found it difficult to understand. It is very different +from the speech of our Virginia negroes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +They seem to clip the words off very short, and +their voices are lighter and higher than our colored +people's.</p> + +<p>A shrimp seller was very interesting to us. We +did not know what he had or what he was calling, +and followed him down the street trying to find +out. He held up high on his open hand a great +flat basket and he sounded as though he were +trying to give a college yell:</p> + +<p>"Rah, rah, rah, Shrimpy! Rah, rah, Shrimpy! +Rah!"</p> + +<p>"What on earth are you selling?" asked Dum.</p> + +<p>"Rah shrimp! Rah shrimp! Buysome, +Missy! Buysome, Missy!"</p> + +<p>Then we saw his squirming wares and understood.</p> + +<p>"But we couldn't do anything with raw +shrimps," we declared regretfully.</p> + +<p>"Well den, Missy lak nig sing fer heh?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, that would be fine," and the boy +held high his basket of squirming raw shrimps +and sang in a strange falsetto the following +song:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Shrimpy, Shrimpy; rah, rah, Shrimpy!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Who wants Shrimp ter-day?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When you hear de Shrimp man holler,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Better come dis way.</span><br /> +<br /> +"Shrimpy, Shrimpy; rah, rah, Shrimpy!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Sho' I'll heap de plate.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Ain't I see my gal dere waitin'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Stannin' by de gate?</span><br /> +<br /> +"Shrimpy, Shrimpy; rah, rah, Shrimpy!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">All de cooks in town,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">When I holler 'I got Shrimpy'</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Mus' be tunnin' roun'."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>We applauded him vigorously and each one +gave him a dime, thereby doing a very foolish +thing, as ever after during our stay in Charleston +we were pursued by the little darkies who wanted +to sing to us.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THROUGH THE GRILLE</div> + + +<p>None of us had ever been so far south before +and the palmetto trees were a great astonishment +to us.</p> + +<p>"They don't look natural to me, somehow," +declared Dum, "but kind of manufactured. The +trunks with that strange criss-cross effect might +have been made by kindergarten children and as +for the leaves—I don't believe they are real."</p> + +<p>"It does seem ridiculous for people to have +these great things twenty feet high, growing in +their back yards when we nurse them with such +care at home and are so proud if we can get one +to grow three feet. Mammy Susan has a palm, +'pa'm' she calls it, that she has tenderly cared +for for four years and it is only about up to my +waist now. I wish she could see these trees."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I feel like the lady from Minnesota who came +on a visit to Richmond and was so overcome by +the magnolia trees. She remarked: 'I have never +seen such large rubber plants.' But don't these +palmetto trees have a strange swishy sound? +They make me feel like 'somebody's a-comin',' +kind of creepy."</p> + +<p>Dee was peering into a garden belonging to +one of the old houses that had not known paint +since the Revolution. The garden, however, was +not neglected but evidently cared for with loving +hands. There were borders of snowdrops and +violets; purple and white hyacinths primly +marked the narrow gravel walk, and clumps of +rhododendron and oleander were so well placed +that one felt that a landscape gardener must have +had the planting of them. Two large palmetto +trees stood like sentinels on each side of the +wrought-iron gate, which was hung from great +square brick pillars. A massive brick wall surrounded +the garden with an uninviting coping +of ferocious spikes.</p> + +<p>We had our faces close to the grille trying to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +see a little more of the garden while the above +conversation was going on. All of us longed to +get in like Alice in Wonderland. How to do it +was the problem!</p> + +<p>If that we could see was so enchanting, what +we couldn't see must be even more so.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Are sweeter; therefore ye pipes play on."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>No doubt it was very rude of us to stand there +peering in, but we were so enthralled by the +beauty of the garden and so filled with the desire +to get in that we forgot Mr. Manners entirely. +Just as Dee said that the palmetto trees made her +feel like somebody was coming, somebody did +come. We heard a voice, a very irate voice +indeed, behind the wall declaiming in masculine +tones:</p> + +<p>"There is no use in discussing the matter further, +Claire! I tell you I shall never give my +consent to Louis' going into such a profession. +Planting gardens, forsooth! That is work for +negroes, negroes directed by women."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, papa, it is a very honorable profession, +and Louis has such a love for flowers and such +marvelous taste in arranging them. Just see what +he has done for our garden! He could do the +same for others, and already he is being sought +by some of the wealthy persons of Charleston +to direct the planting of their gardens."</p> + +<p>The second voice evidently belonged to a young +girl. There was a sweet girlishness about it and +the soft, light accent of the Charlestonian was +very marked. I don't know how to give an idea +of how she said Charleston, but there was no R +in it and in its place I might almost put an I. +"Chailston" is as near as I can come and that +seems 'way off.</p> + +<p>"Bah! Pish! <i>Nouveau riches! Parvenues!</i> +What business have they to ask a Gaillard to dig +in their dirt? It is not many generations since +they have handled picks themselves and now they +want to degrade one of the first Charleston families."</p> + +<p>"But, papa, what is he to do? Louis is nineteen +and you know there is no money for college.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +He cannot be idle any longer. He must have a +profession."</p> + +<p>It was a strange thing that three girls who +prided themselves on being very honorable +should have deliberately stopped there and listened +to a conversation not intended for their +ears, but in talking over the matter later we all +agreed that we did not realize what we were doing. +It seemed like a bit out of a play, somehow: +the setting of the garden, the strange ante-bellum +sentiments of the old gentleman and all.</p> + +<p>"What is he to do? There have never been +but three ways for a gentleman to earn a living: +the Church, Law, the Army. Now, of course, the +last avenue is closed to a Southern gentleman +as he could hardly ally himself with the enemies +of his land. The Church and the Law are all that +are left for one of our blood. Since, as you are +so quick to inform me, there is no money for +Louis to go to college and a degree is quite +necessary for one expecting to advance himself +by practice of law, I see nothing for him to do +but go into the ministry."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Louis be a preacher, papa! Why, he has not +the least calling."</p> + +<p>"He has more calling to occupy a pulpit than +to be down on his hands and knees planting gardens +for these vulgar Yankees."</p> + +<p>"But, papa, what pulpit? Are we not Huguenots? +Has not Louis been brought up in that +faith and how could he preach any other? The +Huguenot church here is the only one in the +United States, and it has only forty members, +and you know yourself now that so many of +those members live in other cities that we often +have a congregation of only six, counting our +own family. There certainly is no room for him +in that pulpit."</p> + +<p>And then the old man did what men often do +when they are worsted in an argument, he became +very masculine and informed the girl that +she had much better attend to her household duties +and leave man's business to man.</p> + +<p>"But, papa, I must say one more thing,—I +think Louis is very despondent and needs encouragement. +He hates to be idle and he is forced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +to be. I was shocked by his appearance this +morning. I am very sorry I went on the visit to +Aunt Maria. I am afraid he has needed me."</p> + +<p>Papa gave a snort and then we had a shock. +He had evidently walked away from Claire in +disgust, and suddenly there loomed in sight a familiar +low-cut waistcoat enveloping the portly +embonpoint of our early morning companion in +the bus.</p> + +<p>We did not wait to see his double chin. The +glimpse we had of the low-cut vest made us beat +a hasty retreat. We walked down the street with +what dignity we could assume.</p> + +<p>"I'm pretty ashamed of myself," said Dum.</p> + +<p>"Me, too! Me, too!" from Dee and me.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what made us stay and listen, +it was so thrilling somehow. Aren't you sorry +for Claire? And poor Louis! To think of having +only one profession open to you and that to +be preaching to six persons including your own +family."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and no doubt there is already an incumbent," +I suggested. "I'd love to know Claire.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +Didn't she sound spunky and at the same time +respectful. I hope she can bring the old fat gentleman +around."</p> + +<p>"She might bring him around, but she can't get +around him, he's too fat," laughed Dee. "I tell +you I'd like to know Louis. I fancy he must be +interesting. Isn't their name romantic? Gaillard +sounds like it ought to go with poignard: +Louis Gaillard drew his poignard and defended +himself from the cannaille."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it funny that we should have peeped into +the very garden belonging to the pretty rumpled +girl in the bus? Now I s'pose we will run +against the pale old dames in the crêpe veils."</p> + +<p>I had hardly spoken before we did run against +the very old ladies. They had darted out of a +large shabby old house about a block from the +Gaillard's home and were in the act of purchasing +"Rah, rah, rah, Shrimpy! Shrimpy! Rah, +rah, rah!"</p> + +<p>Their veils were off now but they still had an +air of being shrouded in crêpe, although their +dresses were made of black calico. It seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +take two of them to buy a dime's worth of +shrimps, and the shrimp vender stood patiently +by while they picked over his wares.</p> + +<p>"They are quite small, Sam," complained the +taller of the two.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Laurens, but yer see dese hyar is +shrimpys, dey ain't crabs, nor yit laubsters."</p> + +<p>"Poor things! I just know they have a hard +time getting along," sighed Dee. "They look so +frail and underfed. Just look back at their +house! It is simply huge. And look at their +porches! Big enough for skating rinks! Do you +suppose those two little old ladies live there all by +themselves?"</p> + +<p>"I fancy they must have a lot of servants," +ventured Dum.</p> + +<p>"Of course they haven't any or they wouldn't +be buying shrimps themselves. They live all alone +in that great house and eat a dime's worth of +shrimps a day. They have just been off burying +their last relative who did not leave them a small +legacy that they have, in a perfectly decent and +ladylike way, been looking forward to. I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +worked out their whole plot and mean to write +'em up some day."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Page, you are so clever! Do you really +think that is the truth about them? What are +they going to do now?" asked Dum.</p> + +<p>"Do? Why, of course they are going to take +boarders, 'paying guests.' Don't you know that +there are only two ways for a Charleston lady to +make a living? The men have three according to +his Eminence of the Tum Tum. Women as usual +get the hot end of it and there are only two +for them: taking boarders and teaching school."</p> + +<p>"Well, I only wish we could go board there. I +am dying to get into one of these old houses. I +bet they are lovely. Did you notice they had an +ugly, new, unpainted, board gate? I wonder +where their wrought-iron one is. They must +have had one sometime. Their house looks as +though a beautiful gate must have gone with it." +Dum had an eye open for artistic things and the +iron gate had taken her fancy more than anything +we had yet seen in Charleston.</p> + +<p>"When I write them up I am going to use that,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> +too, in my story. Of course they sold the gate +to some of the <i>parvenu</i> Yankees, that the old +gentleman scorned so. I can write a thrilling +account of their going out at night to bid the +beautiful gates good-by forever, those gates that +had played such an important part in their lives. +Through their portals many a coach (claret-colored, +I think, I will have the coaches be) has +rolled, bearing to their revels the belles of the +sixties. (Everyone in the sixties was a belle.) +I have an idea that the smaller Miss Laurens was +once indiscreet enough to kiss her lover through +the bars of that gate but the taller one never got +further than letting her young man lightly touch +her lily hand with his lips."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Page, you are so ridiculous to make up +all of that about two snuffy old ladies. Now I +want you to write a real story about Claire and +her brother Louis. I am sure they are interesting +without making up. I still wish I could see +Louis. I'd tell him to spunk up and go dig for +the nice people all he wants to. I know they are +nice if they are only twice removed from a pick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +and shovel, according to old Mr. Gaillard," said +Dee, ever democratic.</p> + +<p>We had reached the Battery, a beautiful spot +with fine live-oaks and palmettos. Spanish moss +hung in festoons from some of the trees. It was +the first any of us had seen.</p> + +<p>"They say it finally kills the trees if too much +of it grows on them, but it is certainly beautiful," +said Dum.</p> + +<p>"It is like these old traditions, worn out and +senseless; a few of them are all right and give a +charm to the South, but when they envelop one +as they do his Eminence of the Tum Tum they +simply prove deadly," philosophized Dee.</p> + +<p>"Good for you, Dee! Please remember what +you have just said and when I get home I'm +going to put it in my note book. It would come +in dandy in the story I am going to write about +the old ladies and their gate." I had started a +note book at the instigation of Mr. Tucker, who +said it might prove invaluable to me in after +years if I meant to write.</p> + +<p>I believe Charleston is the only city in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +United States that has a direct view of the ocean. +You can look straight out from the Battery between +Fort Sumter and Sullivan's Island to the +open sea. Fort Moultrie is on Sullivan's Island +and on the Battery is a fine statue of Sergeant +Jasper who stands with hand extended, pointing +to the fort where he so gallantly rescued and replaced +the flag, with the words: "We cannot fight +without a flag!"</p> + +<p>Fort Sumter is a spot made famous by the +war between the States. It was bombarded in +1861 and I believe is noted as having stood more +bombarding than any port in history up to the +time of Port Arthur.</p> + +<p>"Now don't you wish we had a guide book and +map? I want to know what those places are out +in the harbor. Next time I am going to do my +way!" exclaimed Dee, but a kindly park policeman, +the only living creature on the Battery, told +us all we could have got out of a guide book and +more perhaps. He pointed out where the steps +had been that Princess Louise descended to embark +with her brilliant cortège after her memorable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +visit to Charleston in '83. He showed us +Sullivan's Island, nothing more than a misty spot +on the horizon, where Poe laid the scene of "The +Gold Bug." He led us up to the old gun from +the <i>Keokuk</i>, patting it lovingly and reverently. +He was a charming old man and seemed to take +a personal interest in everything on the Battery. +His accent was fine and had the real Charleston +softness. I wondered if he, too, did not belong +to a fine old family and unlike Mr. Gaillard had +discovered that there were more ways than three +for a gentleman to earn a living.</p> + +<p>Next he showed us the bust of William Gilmore +Simms, South Carolina's great author, novelist, +historian, poet. And then he put my mind +entirely at rest about his being somewhat out of +his element in serving as a park policeman by +quoting Simms at length in his beautiful poem:</p> + + +<div class='center'><br />"<span class="smcap">The Grape Vine Swing</span></div> + +<div class='poem'> +"Lithe and long as the serpent train,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Springing and clinging from tree to tree,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Now darting upward, now down again,</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">With a twist and a twirl that are strange to see;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Never took serpent a deadlier hold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Never the cougar a wilder spring,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Strangling the oak with the boa's fold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Spanning the beach with the condor's wing.</span><br /> +<br /> +"Yet no foe that we fear to seek,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The boy leaps wild to thy rude embrace;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Thy bulging arms bear as soft a cheek</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">As ever on lover's breast found place;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">On thy waving train is a playful hold</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Thou shalt never to lighter grasp persuade;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">While a maiden sits in thy drooping fold,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And swings and sings in the noonday shade!</span><br /> +<br /> +"O giant strange of our Southern woods!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">I dream of thee still in the well-known spot,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Though our vessel strains o'er the ocean floods,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And the Northern forest beholds thee not;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I think of thee still with a sweet regret,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">As the cordage yields to my playful grasp,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Dost thou spring and cling in our woodlands yet?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Does the maiden still swing in thy giant clasp?"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>What a dear old man he was! We could hardly +tear ourselves away, but it was twelve o'clock +and we had promised to meet Zebedee for a one +o'clock luncheon. We told him good-by, and +promised to come to see him some more and then +made our way along the eastern walk of the +Battery.</p> + +<p>The breezes always seem to be high down on +the Charleston Battery, as it is exposed to the +four winds of heaven. The sky had clouded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +over again and quite a sharp little east wind was +blowing, whistling rather dismally through the +palmetto trees that grow all along the beautiful +street that runs beside the waterfront.</p> + +<p>Very handsome houses are on this street, with +beautiful gardens. The walls are not so high +there, and we wondered if the owners were as +aristocratic as those enclosed by high walls.</p> + +<p>"Maybe every generation puts another layer +of brick on the wall," suggested Dee, and I made +a mental reservation that that, too, would go in +my notebook about Charleston.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE ABANDONED HOTEL</div> + + +<p>As we followed this street, East Bay Street +it is called, we came upon a great old custard-colored +house built right on the water's edge so +that the waves almost lapped its long pleasant +galleries.</p> + +<p>"Isn't this a jolly place?" we cried, but when +we got closer to it we decided jolly was certainly +not the name for it.</p> + +<p>The window panes of its many windows were +missing or broken. The doors were open and +swinging in the strong breeze that seemed to develop +almost into a hurricane as it hit the exposed +corner of the old custard-colored house. +A tattered awning was flapping continuously +from one end of the porch, an awning that had +been gaily striped once, but now was faded to a +dull gray except one spot where it had wrapped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +itself around one of the columns and in so doing, +had protected a portion of itself from the +weather to bear witness to its former glory.</p> + +<p>"What a dismal place! What could it have +been?"</p> + +<p>"It is open! Let's go in and see what we can +see."</p> + +<p>"It is positively weird. I am afraid of ghosts +in such a place even in broad daylight," I declared +half in earnest, but Tweedles wanted to +go in and I was never one to hang back when +a possible adventure was on foot.</p> + +<p>The creaking door swung in as if propelled by +unseen hands and we found ourselves in a hall +of rather fine proportions with a broad stairway +leading up. Doors opening into this hall were +also swinging in the wind, so we entered the +room to the right, the parlor, of course, we +thought. The paper was hanging in shreds from +the wall, adding to the dismal swishing sound +that pervaded the whole building. From this +room we entered another hall that had a peculiar +looking counter built on one side.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What do you fancy this thing is for?" demanded +Dum.</p> + +<p>"I've got it! I've got it!" exclaimed Dee. "This +is an old inn or hotel or something and that is the +clerk's desk. Look, here is a row of hooks for +keys and here is a rusty key still hanging on the +hook."</p> + +<p>"It must have been a delightful place to stay +with such a view of the harbor and those beautiful +porches where one could sit and watch the +ships come in. This room next must have been +the dining room, and see where there is a little +stage! That was for the musicians to sit on," +enthused Dum.</p> + +<p>"When they finished supper they put the tables +against the wall and danced like this," and Dee +pirouetted around the dusty, rotting floor.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it awful to let a place like this go to +pieces so? I don't believe there is a whole pane +of glass in the house, and I am sure no door will +stay shut. It's too gloomy for me; let's get out +in the street again," I begged.</p> + +<p>"You can go, but I am going upstairs before I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +leave. I should think a would-be author would +want to see all the things she could, and if there +are any ghosts meet them," and Dee started valiantly +up the creaking stairs. Of course Dum and +I followed.</p> + +<p>A silence settled on us as we mounted. The +wind that had been noisy enough below was simply +deafening the higher we got. The paper that +was hanging from the ceilings rattled ceaselessly +and the wind was tugging at what was still sticking +tenaciously to some of the side walls making +a strange whistling sound.</p> + +<p>"Gee whiz! I feel like Jane Eyre!" whispered +Dum.</p> + +<p>"No; 'The Fall of the House of Usher'!" I +gasped. "Just think of such a place as this being +right here in sight of all those grand houses!"</p> + +<p>"I know it's haunted! I feel a presence!" and +Dee stopped suddenly on the landing.</p> + +<p>"Who's a 'fraid cat now?" I taunted. "Let +the would-be author go in front. 'Infirm of purpose, +give me the dagger!'"</p> + +<p>At that Dee ran lightly on ahead of us and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +disappeared in a room to the right. We followed +in time to see her skirts vanishing through +a door beyond.</p> + +<p>"This must have been the bridal chamber, it is +so grand. Just look at the view of the harbor +through this window," said Dum, still whispering, +as there was something about the place, a +kind of gruesomeness, that made one feel rather +solemn. I thought of Poe's "Haunted Palace" +and whispered some of the stanzas to Dum, for +the moment both of us forgetting Dee, who had +rushed off so precipitately.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'In the greenest of our valleys<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">By good angels tenanted,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Once a fair and stately palace—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Radiant palace—reared its head.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">In the monarch Thought's dominion,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">It stood there;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Never seraph spread a pinion</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Over fabric half so fair.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'But evil things in robes of sorrow,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Assailed the monarch's high estate;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">(Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Shall dawn upon him desolate!)</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And round about his home, the glory</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">That blushed and bloomed</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Is but a dim-remembered story</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Of the old time entombed.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'And travelers now, within that valley,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Through the red-litten windows see</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Vast forms that move fantastically</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">To a discordant melody;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">While like a ghastly, rapid river,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Through the pale door</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">A hideous throng rush out forever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And laugh—but smile no more.'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>I had hardly finished the last stanza of what +is to me the most ghastly poem in the English +language, when a strange blood-curdling shriek +was heard echoing through the rattle-trap old +house.</p> + +<p>"Dee!" we shouted together and started on a +run through the door where we had last seen her +new brown suit vanishing. It opened into a long +corridor with doors all down the side, evidently +bedrooms. Numbers were over the doors. All +the doors were shut. Where was Dee? The +wind had stopped as quickly as it had started +and the old house was as quiet as the grave.</p> + +<p>"Dee! Dee!" we called. "Where are you, +Dee?"</p> + +<p>Our voices sounded as though we had yelled +down a well. No answer! My eye fastened on +the door with No. 13 over it. All of us have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +some superstitions, and anyone brought up by a +colored mammy is certain to have many.</p> + +<p>"No. 13 is sure to be right," I thought, and +pushed open the door.</p> + +<p>A strange sight met my gaze: Dee, with her +arms thrown around a youth who crouched on +the floor, his face buried in his hands while his +whole frame was shaken with sobs! From the +chandelier hung a rope with a noose tied in the +dangling end, and under it a pile of bricks carefully +placed as though some child had been building +a house of blocks. The bricks had evidently +been taken from among others that were scattered +over the hearth near a chimney that had +fallen in.</p> + +<p>Our relief at finding Dee and finding her unharmed +was so great that nothing mattered to +us. Dee put her finger on her lips and we +stopped stock-still. The slender figure of the +young man was still convulsed with sobs, and +Dee held him and soothed him as though he +had been a baby and she some grandmother. +Finally he spoke, with his face still covered:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Claire must never know!" Claire? Then +this was Louis Gaillard! Dee had said several +times she would like to know him, but she had +had no idea of her idle wish being granted so +quickly and in such a manner. When the boy +said "Claire must never know," Dee arose to +the occasion as only Dee could and said in a perfectly +matter-of-fact tone: "No, Louis, I promise +you that Claire shall never know from me." +This calling him by name at the time did not +seem strange to him. He was under such stress +of emotion that the use of his Christian name +by an unknown young girl seemed perfectly +natural to the stricken youth.</p> + +<p>It seems that when Dee went on ahead of us +while I was so grandiloquently spouting poetry, +she had flitted from room to room. The doors +had been open all along the corridor except in +No. 13. She had had a fancy to close them after +each exploration until she had come to 13. On +opening that door she had met a sight to freeze +her young blood, but instead of freezing her +young blood she had simply let out a most normal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +and healthy yell. Louis Gaillard was standing +on the pile of bricks that he had placed with +great precision under the chandelier, and as Dee +entered he was in the act of fitting the noose +around his poor young neck. His plan of course +had been to slip the noose and then kick the pile +of bricks from under him and there to hang until +he should die.</p> + +<p>The realization of what had occurred came to +Dum and me without an explanation, which Dee +gave us later when we could be alone with her. +Dee, in the meantime, continued to pat the boy's +shoulder and hold him tight in her courageous +arms until the sobs ceased and he finally looked +up. Then he slowly rose to his feet. He was a +tall, slender youth, every inch of him the aristocrat. +His countenance was not weak, just despondent. +I could well fancy him to be very +handsome, but now his sombre eyes were red +with weeping and his mouth trembling with emotion.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what made me be so wicked," +he finally stammered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know. You are very despondent over your +life. You are tired of idleness and see no way to +be occupied because your father opposes the kind +of thing you feel yourself fitted to do," and Dee, +ordinarily the kind of girl who hated lollapalusing, +as she called it, took the boy's nerveless +hand in both of hers. She said afterwards she +knew by instinct that he needed flesh and blood to +hang to, something tangible to keep his reason +from leaving him. He looked at her wonderingly +and she continued: "Claire has been away +on a trip and while she was gone your father has +nagged you. He thinks working in flowers is not +the work for a Gaillard and wants you to be a +lawyer or preacher. You have no money to go +to college, and he seems to think you can be a +preacher without the education necessary to be a +lawyer—which is news to me. You have offers +to plant gardens right here in Charleston, but +your father will not permit you to do it. You have +become despondent and have lost appetite and are +now suffering from a nervousness that makes +you not quite yourself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But you—how do you know all this?"</p> + +<p>"I am ashamed to tell you how I know it. I +am afraid you will never be able to trust me +if you know."</p> + +<p>"I not trust you! You seem like an angel from +heaven to me."</p> + +<p>"Well, first let me introduce my sister and +friend to you."</p> + +<p>Dee had a wonderful power of putting persons +at their ease and now in these circumstances, to +say the least unconventional, she turned and introduced +us to Mr. Louis Gaillard with as much +simplicity as she would have shown at a tennis +game or in a ball-room. He, with the polished +manners of his race, bowed low over our proffered +hands. All of us ignored the pile of bricks +and the sinister rope hanging from the chandelier.</p> + +<p>"We are twins and this is our best friend, Page +Allison. We have got some real long names, but +Dum and Dee are the names we go by as a rule, +Dum and Dee Tucker. We are down here in +Charleston with our father Jeffry Tucker, Zebedee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +for short. And now I want you to do us a big +favor——"</p> + +<p>"Me? A favor for you?" Dee had proceeded +rather rapidly and the dazed young man had +some difficulty in following her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a favor! I want you, all of us want you, +to come up to the hotel and have lunch with us +and meet Zebedee. It is lunch time now almost, +and we promised to be back in time,—you see, if +you come with us, Zebedee can't row with us +about being late. He will be awfully cut up over +our being late—nothing makes him so cross. I +know if you are with us he will be unable to rag +us. Just as soon as he gets something to eat he +will be all right."</p> + +<p>What was Dee driving at? Zebedee cross! +Had she caught the young man's malady and +gone a little off her hooks? Dum and I looked at +each other wonderingly—then a light dawned on +us: she wanted to get the young man entirely +away from this terrible room, and felt if she made +him think that he was to go along to protect us +from an irate father, he would do it from a sense<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +of chivalry. Having more experience with an +irate father than any other kind, Louis was easily +persuaded.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if I can be of any assistance!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you can! Now let's hurry!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>TUCKER TACT</div> + + +<p>It was quite a walk back to the hotel but we +did it in an inconceivably short time. It was only +1.10 as we stepped into the lobby. We walked +four abreast wherever the sidewalk permitted it +and when we had to break ranks we kept close +together and chatted as gaily as usual. Louis was +very quiet but very courteous. The fresh air +brought some color back to his pale cheeks and +the redness left his eyes. He was indeed a very +handsome youth. He seemed to be in a kind of +daze and kept as close to Dee as he could, as +though he feared if she left him, he might again +find himself in the terrible dream from which she +had awakened him.</p> + +<p>What was Dee to say to her father? How account +for this young man? I was constantly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +finding out things about the Tuckers that astonished +me. The thing that was constantly impressing +me was their casualness. On this occasion +it was very marked. What father would +simply accept a situation as Zebedee did this one? +We three girls had gone out in the morning to +his certain knowledge knowing not one single +person in the whole city, and here we were coming +back late to lunch and bringing with us a +handsome, excited looking young man and introducing +him as though we had known him all our +lives.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker greeted him hospitably and took +him to his room while we went to ours to doll up +a bit for lunch. He had no opportunity to ask +us where we got him or what we meant by picking +up forlorn-looking aristocrats and bringing +them home to lunch. He just trusted us. To be +trusted is one of the greatest incentives in the +world to be trustworthy.</p> + +<p>Anyone with half an eye could see that Louis +Gaillard needed a friend, and could also see that +all of us had been under some excitement. Zebedee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +not only had more than half an eye, but was +Argus-eyed. Louis must have been very much +astonished at the irate old parent he had been led +to expect. Mr. Tucker never looked younger +or more genial. He had had a profitable morning +himself, digging up political information that +he considered most valuable, and now he was +through for the day and had planned a delightful +afternoon to be spent with us seeing the sights of +Charleston.</p> + +<p>"Was anyone in all the world ever so wonderful +as our Zebedee?" asked Dum as she smoothed +her bronze black hair and straightened her collar, +getting ready for luncheon.</p> + +<p>"I'm so proud of him, but I knew he would do +just this way! Not one questioning glance! I +know he is on tenter hooks all the time, too. The +cat that died of curiosity has got nothing on +Zebedee. I tell you, Page, Dum and I will walk +into the dining room ahead with Louis and you +make out you are expecting a letter and stop at +the desk and try to put him wise. He is sure to +wait for you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right! But must I tell him everything? +It will take time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't go into detail, but just summarize. +Give a synopsis of the morning in a thumb-nail +sketch. You can do it."</p> + +<p>"I can try."</p> + +<p>We found Mr. Tucker and the youth waiting +for us in the lobby. The appearance of the guest +was much improved by soap and water and a +hair brush. Whose appearance is not? We +started into the dining room, and as per arrangement +I had to go back to the desk. Zebedee of +course went with me, and the twins kept on with +Louis.</p> + +<p>"I know you are not expecting a letter but +want to tell me what's up," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Exactly! We were peeping into a garden +and overheard the old fat man we saw in the +bus this morning telling the pretty daughter that +he intended that his son Louis should be a preacher +at the Huguenot church here, where they +often have a congregation of only six, boasting +a membership of forty, many of them out-of-town<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +members. Louis wants to be a landscape +gardener, anyhow, to plant gardens, for which +he has a great taste, but old Tum Tum thinks +that is beneath the dignity of a Gaillard. Claire, +the daughter, was very uneasy about Louis, as +he seemed despondent. We were ashamed of +having listened. Eavesdropping is not our line, +but we did it before we knew we were doing it." +Zebedee smiled, and I went on talking a mile a +minute. "We walked around the Battery and +then went into an old deserted hotel, where all +the doors were open and all the windows gone. +We wandered around and then went upstairs.</p> + +<p>"Dee left us and went down a long corridor, +where the bedrooms were, and when she got to +Number Thirteen she went in and found Louis +getting ready to hang himself. The rope was on +the chandelier, and he had a pile of bricks to +stand on. He was putting the noose on his neck +when she opened the door, and then she screamed +bloody murder, and we heard her and ran like +rabbits until we got to Thirteen, and I knew it +was the right door just because it was Thirteen.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +We found poor Louis crouching down on the +floor, and Dee had her arms around him and was +treating him just like a poor little sick kitten. +He was sobbing to beat the band, and as soon as +he could speak, he said: 'Claire must never +know!' and then we knew that he was the boy +who wanted to plant gardens. Dee called him +Louis and talked to him in such a rational way +that he pulled himself together. He seemed like +some one out of his head, but we chatted away +like we always do, and he kind of found himself. +Dee asked him to come home to lunch to protect +us from your rage at our being late. She knew +you wouldn't mind, and she felt that if she put it +up to him that way he would think he ought to +come. She said you would not give way to anger +before strangers. We are mighty proud of you +for being so—so—Zebedeeish about the whole +thing."</p> + +<p>"Two minutes, by the clock!" cried Zebedee, +when I stopped for breath. "How I wish I had +a reporter who could tell so much in such a short +time! I am mighty glad you approve of me, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +I certainly approve of my girls. Now we will go +in and eat luncheon and Louis shall not know I +know a word. I will see what I can do to help +him. Gee whiz! That would make a great newspaper +story, but I am a father first and then a +newspaper man."</p> + +<p>We actually got in and were seated at the +table before Tweedles and Louis had settled on +what to order. Zebedee pretended to be very +hungry and to be angry, and only his sense of +propriety with a guest present seemed to hold +back his rage at being kept waiting. He acted +the irate, hungry parent so well that we almost +exploded.</p> + +<p>Louis ate like a starving man. As is often the +case after a great excitement, a desire for food +had come to him. His appetite, however, was +not so much larger than ours. All of us were +hungry, and I am afraid the hotel management +did not make much on running their place on the +American plan. Wherever there was a choice of +viands, we ordered all of them.</p> + +<p>"You must know Charleston pretty well, Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +Gaillard, do you not?" asked our host, when the +first pangs of hunger were allayed.</p> + +<p>"Know it? I know every stone in it, and love +it. But I do wish you would not call me Mr. +Gaillard."</p> + +<p>"All right, then, Louis! I wonder if you would +not show us your wonderful old city this afternoon—that +is, all of it we could see in an afternoon. +You must not let us take up your time if +you are occupied, however."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a thing to do. I finished at the high +school in February, and have nothing to occupy +me until the graduating exercises in June. I'd +think it a great honor and privilege to show you +and the young ladies all I can about Charleston," +and Louis looked his delight at the prospect. "I +must let my sister know first, though. She may +be wondering where I am."</p> + +<p>"'Phone her!" tweedled the twins.</p> + +<p>"We haven't a telephone," simply.</p> + +<p>No telephone!</p> + +<p>We might have known to begin with that +such a modern vulgarity as a telephone would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +not be tolerated in the house belonging to his +Eminence of the Tum Tum.</p> + +<p>"You have plenty of time to walk down and +tell her, and I think it would be very nice if she +would consent to come with you. We should be +overjoyed to have her join our party," said the +ever hospitable Zebedee.</p> + +<p>"I should like that above all things if she can +come." Of course we knew that the obstacle to +her coming would be the old father who would +no doubt demand our pedigrees before permitting +a member of his family to be seen on the +street with us. "Mr. Tucker, I should like to +have a few minutes' talk with you when we finish +luncheon."</p> + +<p>"I am through now, even if these insatiate +monsters of mine have ordered pie on top of +apple dumpling, so you come on with me, Louis, +while they finish. No doubt they will be glad to +get rid of us so they can order another help all +around."</p> + +<p>"What do you reckon he wants to say to Zebedee?" +said Dee, biting a comfortable wedge out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +of her pie, which, in the absence of Zebedee, she +picked up in her fingers to eat as pie should be +eaten.</p> + +<p>"Why, he is going to tell him all about this +morning. Don't you see, he feels that maybe +your father will not think he is a reliable person +or something; anyhow, he is such a gentleman +that he knows the proper thing to do is to make +a clean breast of his acquaintance with us."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, how do you know that?" asked +Dum.</p> + +<p>"I don't know it. I just imagine it."</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Page, I believe you will be an +author. You've got so much imagination."</p> + +<p>"It is just nothing but thinking what you +would do in a person's place provided you had +the nature of that person. Now you are high-minded, +too; fancy yourself in Louis' place—what +would you do?"</p> + +<p>"Go tell Zebedee all about it, of course."</p> + +<p>"Exactly! So would anyone if he expected to +continue the acquaintance begun in such a strange +way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want to see Louis before he goes for his +sister. You see, we never did tell him how we +happened to know his name and all about his +affairs. I must tell him that and also let him +know that we came up in the bus with his father +and sister this morning. He can let her know +something about us without divulging the terrible +thing that came so near happening at the +old hotel." Dee devoured the last morsel of pie +and we went to the parlor, where we found Zebedee +clasping hands with Louis, who was flushed +and shiny-eyed but looked very happy.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy!" exclaimed Zebedee to me, as Dee +turned to Louis and drew him to a seat by the +window. "He has told me the whole thing like +the gentleman he is. He says he must have been +demented. He has been very nervous lately, and +all the time his sister was away his father has +nagged him to death, and this morning, evidently +after you monkeys listened to the talk in the +garden, the old gentleman got him in a corner +and pronounced the ultimatum: either law or +the ministry. Of course, the ministry is out of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +the question, and the law means years of waiting, +even if he had the money to go to college. He +could begin and earn a livelihood tomorrow laying +out these gardens and planting them, but the +obdurate parent says if he does not obey he will +withdraw the light of his countenance."</p> + +<p>"I'd say withdraw it; the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>"So would I; but I could not give that advice +to Louis until I know more about him and his +people. I hope the sister can come."</p> + +<p>She did come, although I believe she did not +inform her father of what she was going to do. +She was more than a year younger than her +brother, and he was evidently the pride of her +heart. I prayed that she might never know the +terrible calamity that had come so near to her +life. I believe she could never have breathed a +happy breath again as long as she lived if that +knowledge had been hers.</p> + +<p>Louis had just told her some Virginians whom +he had met on the Battery—Mr. Tucker, his two +daughters and their friend—had made friends +with him, and had asked him to accompany them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +in their sightseeing expedition and had suggested +his bringing her. He let drop that we had arrived +that morning in the bus, and she immediately +concluded that we were her companions in +misery on that wet, bumpy drive.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>CHURCHYARDS</div> + + +<p>Graveyards seemed a strange place to want to +spend the afternoon after our experience of the +morning, but the cheerful Zebedee always made +for them, just as a sunbeam seems to be hunting +up the dark and gloomy corners.</p> + +<p>"Saint Michael's first, as that is the nearest," +suggested Louis.</p> + +<p>We entered the churchyard through massive +old iron gates, and, turning to the right, followed +Louis to perhaps the most unique grave stone in +the world: the headboard of an old cedar bed. +It is a relic of 1770. The story goes that the +woman buried there insisted that her husband +should go to no trouble or expense to mark her +grave. She said that she had been very comfortable +in that same bed and would rest very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +easy under it and that it would soon rot away and +leave her undisturbed. She little dreamed that +more than a century later that old cedar bed +would be preserved, seemingly in some miraculous +way, and be intact while stones, reverently +placed at the same time, were crumbling away.</p> + +<p>"It seems like John <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Keat's'">Keats'</ins> epitaph: 'Here +lies one whose name was writ in water.' Keats +thought he was dead to the world, and see how +he lives; and this poor woman's grave is the first +one that tourists are taken to see," I mused aloud.</p> + +<p>"I have often thought about this woman," said +Claire, in her light, musical voice. "I have an +idea that she must have been very hard-worked +and perhaps longed for a few more minutes in +bed every morning, and maybe the husband routed +her out, and when she died perhaps he felt +sorry he had not given her more rest."</p> + +<p>"You hear that, Page?" asked Dum. "You +had better have some mercy on me now. I may +'shuffle off this mortal coil' at any minute, and +you will be so sorry you didn't let me sleep just +a little while longer." (It had been my job ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +since I started to room with the Tucker twins to +be the waker-up. It was a thankless job, too, +and no sinecure.) "See that my little brass bed +is kept shiny, Zebedee dear."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why it is that no one ever seems to +feel very sad or quiet in old, old graveyards?" I +asked, all of us laughing at Dum's brass bed.</p> + +<p>"I think it is because all the persons who suffered +at the death of the persons buried there +are dead, too. No one feels very sorry for the +dead; it is the living that are left to mourn. Old +cemeteries are to me the most peaceful and cheerful +spots one can visit," said Zebedee, leaning +over to decipher some quaint epitaph.</p> + +<p>"I think so, too!" exclaimed Claire, who had +fitted herself into our crowd with delightful ease. +"New graves are the ones that break my heart."</p> + +<p>Louis turned away to hide his emotion. He +had been too near to the Great Divide that very +morning for talk of new-made graves and the +sorrow of loved ones not to move him.</p> + +<p>There was much of interest in that old burying +ground, and Louis proved an excellent cicerone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +He told us that the church was started in +1752; that the bells and organ and clock were +imported from England, and that the present +organ had parts of the old organ incorporated in +it. The bells were seized during the Revolution +and shipped and sold in England, where they +were purchased by a former Charleston merchant +and shipped back again. During the Civil +War they were sent to Columbia for safekeeping, +but were so badly injured when Columbia was +burned that they had to be again sent to England +and recast in the original mold. They chimed +out the hour while Louis was telling us about +them as though to prove to us their being well +worth all the trouble to which they had put the +worthy citizens of Charleston.</p> + +<p>"Saint Philip's next, while we are in the +churchly spirit," said Louis; "and then the Huguenot +church."</p> + +<p>St. Philip's was a little older than St. Michael's. +The chimes for that church were used +for making cannon for the Confederacy, and for +lack of funds up to the present time they have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +not been replaced. On top of the high steeple is +a beacon light by which the ships find their way +into the harbor.</p> + +<p>We had noticed at the hotel, both at our very +early breakfast and at luncheon, a very charming +couple who had attracted us greatly and who, +in turn, seemed interested in us. The man was +a scholarly person with kind, brown eyes, a very +intelligent, comely countenance, and a tendency +to baldness right on top that rather added to his +intellectual appearance. His wife was quite pretty, +young, and with a look of race and breeding +that was most striking. Her hair was red gold, +and she had perhaps the sweetest blue eyes I had +ever beheld. Her eyes just matched her blue +linen shirtwaist. What had attracted me to the +couple was not only their interesting appearance, +but the fact that they seemed to have such a good +time together. They talked not in the perfunctory +way that married persons often do, but with +real spirit and interest.</p> + +<p>As we entered the cemetery of St. Philip's, +across the street from the church, we met this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +couple standing by the sarcophagus of the great +John C. Calhoun. The lady bowed to us sweetly, +acknowledging, as it were, having seen us in the +hotel. We of course eagerly responded, delighted +at the encounter. We had discussed them at +length, and almost decided they were bride and +groom; at least Tweedles had, but I thought not. +They were too much at their ease to be on their +first trip together, I declared, and of course got +called a would-be author for my assertion.</p> + +<p>"I hear there is a wonderful portrait of Calhoun +by Healy in the City Hall," said the gentleman +to Zebedee, as he courteously moved for +us to read the inscription on the sarcophagus.</p> + +<p>"Yes, so I am told, but this young man who +belongs to this interesting city can tell us more +about it," and in a little while all of us were +drawn into conversation with our chance acquaintances.</p> + +<p>Louis led us through the cemetery, telling us +anything of note, and then we followed him to +the Huguenot church, accompanied by our new +friends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>A Huguenot church has stood on the site of +the present one since 1667. Many things have +happened to the different buildings, but the present +one, an edifice of unusual beauty and dignity, +has remained intact since 1845. The preacher, a +dear old man of over eighty, who is totally blind, +has been pastor of this scanty flock for almost +fifty years. He now conducts the service from +memory, and preaches wonderful, simple sermons +straight from his kind old heart.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edwin, see what wonderful old names +are on these tablets," enthused the young wife—"Mazyck, +Ravenel, Porcher, de Sasure, Huger, +Cazanove, L'Hommedieu, Marquand, Gaillard——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, they sound like an echo from the +Old World."</p> + +<p>"This Gaillard is our great, great grandfather, +isn't he, Louis?" asked Claire. "My brother +knows so much more about such things than I +do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is your name Gaillard?"</p> + +<p>And then the introductions followed, Zebedee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +doing the honors, naming all of us in turn; and +then the gentleman told us that his name was +Edwin Green and introduced his wife.</p> + +<p>I fancy Claire and Louis had not been in the +habit of picking up acquaintances in this haphazard +style, and the sensation was a new and delightful +one to them. The Tuckers and I always +did it. We talked to the people we met on trains +and in parks, and many an item for my notebook +did I get in this way. Zebedee says he thinks it +is all right just so you don't pick out some flashy +flatterer. Of course we never did that, but confined +our chance acquaintances to women and +children or nice old men, whose interest was +purely fatherly. Making friends as we had with +Louis was different, as there was nothing to do +but help him; and his sex and age were not to +be considered at such a time.</p> + +<p>"Are you to be in Charleston long?" asked +Zebedee of Mr. Green.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell. We are fascinated by it, but long +to get out of the hotel and into some home."</p> + +<p>"If I knew of some nice quiet place, I would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +put my girls there for a few days while I run +over to Columbia on business. I can't leave them +alone in the hotel."</p> + +<p>"I should love to look after them, if you would +trust me," said Mrs. Green, flushing for fear +Zebedee might think her pushing.</p> + +<p>"Trust you! Why, you are too kind to make +such an offer!" exclaimed Zebedee.</p> + +<p>"We have some friends who have just opened +their house for—for—guests," faltered Claire. +"They live only a block from us, and are very +lovely ladies. We heard only this morning that +they are contemplating taking someone into their +home." Tweedles and I exchanged glances; +mine was a triumphant one. The would-be author +had hit the nail on the head again. "Their +name is Laurens." I knew it would be before +Claire spoke.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Gaillard, if you could introduce us +to those ladies we would be so grateful to you!" +said Zebedee. "You would like to stay there, +wouldn't you, girls?"</p> + +<p>"Yes! Yes!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And Mrs. Green perhaps will decide to go +there, too, and she will look after you, will you +not, Mrs. Green?"</p> + +<p>"I should be so happy to if the girls would like +to have me for a chaperone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we'd love it! We've never had a chaperone +in our lives but once, and she got married," +tweedled the twins.</p> + +<p>And so our compact was made, and Claire +promised to see the Misses Laurens in regard to +our becoming her "paying guests."</p> + +<p>Mr. Green, who, as we found out afterward, +was a professor of English at the College of Wellington +and had all kinds of degrees that entitled +him to be called Doctor, seemed rather amused at +his wife's being a chaperone.</p> + +<p>"She seems to me still to be nothing but a girl +herself," he confided to Zebedee, "although we +have got a fine big girl of our own over a year +old, whom we have left in the care of my mother-in-law +while we have this much talked-of trip +together."</p> + +<p>"Oh, have you got a baby? Do you know,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +Dum and I just stood Page down that you were +bride and groom!"</p> + +<p>"Molly, do you hear that? These young ladies +thought we were newlyweds."</p> + +<p>"I didn't!"</p> + +<p>"And why didn't you?" smiled the young wife.</p> + +<p>"I noticed you gave separate orders at the +table and did not have to pretend to like the same +things. I believe a bride and groom are afraid +to differ on even such a thing as food."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edwin, do you hear that? Do you remember +the unmerciful teasing Kent gave you at +Fontainbleu because you pretended to like the +mustard we got on our roast beef in the little +English restaurant, just because I like English +mustard?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember it very well, and I also remember +lots of other things at Fontainbleu besides +the mustard."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Green blushed such a lovely pink at her +husband's words that we longed to hear what he +did remember.</p> + +<p>"Kent is my brother—Kent Brown."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! Oh!" tweedled the twins. "Are you +Molly Brown of Kentucky?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was Molly Brown of Kentucky."</p> + +<p>"And did you go to Wellington?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I still go there, as my husband has +the chair of English at Wellington."</p> + +<p>"Girls! Girls! To think of our meeting Molly +Brown of Kentucky! We have been hearing of +you all winter from our teacher of English at +Gresham, Miss Ball."</p> + +<p>"Mattie Ball! I have known her since my +freshman year at college. Edwin, you remember +Mattie Ball, do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. An excellent student! She +had as keen an appreciation of good literature as +anyone I know of."</p> + +<p>"She used to tell us that she owed everything +she knew to her professor of English at Wellington," +said Dee, who knew how to say the right +thing at the right time, and Professor Green's +pleased countenance was proof of her tact.</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Green had to hear all about Miss +Ball and the fire at Gresham, which Tweedles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +related with great spirit, laying rather too much +stress on my bravery in arousing the school.</p> + +<p>"I deserve no more credit than did the geese +whose hissing aroused the Romans in ancient +times," I declared. "Why don't you tell them +how you got Miss Plympton out of the window +in her pink pajamas?"</p> + +<p>The Greens laughed so heartily at our adventures +that we were spurred on to recounting +other happenings, telling of the many scrapes we +had got ourselves in. Claire listened in open-eyed +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"It must be lovely to go to boarding-school," +she said wistfully.</p> + +<p>"It sounds lovelier than it is. We tell about +the scrapes and the fun, but there are lots of +times when it is nothing but one stupid thing +after another. It's lots lovelier just to be at home +with your father."</p> + +<p>Claire shook her head doubtfully, and, remembering +her father, we did not wonder at her differing +with Dum.</p> + +<p>"I have always held that home was the place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +for girls until they were old enough for college," +said Mrs. Green. "That is, if they mean to go to +college."</p> + +<p>"But we don't!"</p> + +<p>Zebedee and Professor Green had walked on +ahead. Louis was sticking close to Dee, so close +that Dum whispered to me that he must think she +had him on a leash. Claire and Dum and I were +having the pleasure of flocking around Mrs. +Green.</p> + +<p>"You see, we haven't got a piece of mother +among us, and we had to go somewhere, as Zebedee—that's +our father, you know—had his +hands so full of us he couldn't ply his trade of +getting out newspapers. Dee and I are some improved +since we first were sent off to school, and +now that Gresham is burned, we don't want to +break into a new school. I tell you, it is some job +to break into a school. Page Allison lives in the +country, and she had to go to boarding-school or +not at all."</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you go to college now? Wellington +would just suit you, I am sure."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Somehow I have never been crazy to go to +college. I want to do something else. You see, +I want to model. I feel as though I just had to +get my hands in clay and form things out of it."</p> + +<p>"And you?" said the sweet young woman, +turning to me.</p> + +<p>This Molly Brown of Kentucky certainly had +the charm of sympathy. You found yourself +telling her all kinds of things that you just +couldn't help telling her. She seemed so interested, +and her eyes were so blue and so true.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I mean to be a writer!" I blurted out. +"That's the reason I don't want to go to college. +If I am going to write, I had better just write, I +think, and not wear myself to a frazzle over +higher mathematics."</p> + +<p>"That's the way I used to feel. The only good +I could ever get out of that hated study was just +knowing I had done my best. My best seemed +so feeble by the side of the real mathematicians +that it was a constant mortification to me. I used +to call mathematics my hair shirt. No matter +how well I got along in other things, I was always<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +conscious of a kind of irritation that I was +going to fail in that. I just did squeeze through +in the end, and that was by dint of wet towels +around my head and coaching and encouragement +from my friends. I think it is quite natural +to dislike a subject that always makes you +appear at your worst. Certainly we are not fond +of people who put us in that position!"</p> + +<p>I might have known our new friend would +hate mathematics. I have never yet been attracted +very much by any woman who did get +along very well in it, except, of course, Miss Cox. +I don't mean to say that female mathematicians +cannot be just as lovely and charming as any +other females, but I mean that I have never hit +it off with them, somehow.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to write?" asked Claire.</p> + +<p>"Write short stories and long novels, when I +find myself. I'm still flopping around in a sea +of words. Don't you write, Mrs. Green? It +seems to me Miss Ball said you did."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I write a little—that is, I write a lot, but +I have published only a little. I send and send to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +magazine after magazine. Every mail is an +event to me—either it brings back a manuscript +or it doesn't bring one, and sometimes it brings +an acceptance slip, and then I carry on like one +demented. Edwin says he is jealous of the postman +and wishes Uncle Sam would have women +deliver the mail."</p> + +<p>"It must be wonderful to get into a magazine. +My only taste of it is seeing myself in print in +our school paper. Don't you write poetry, Mrs. +Green?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I have melted into verse, but I think +prose is more in my line. The first money I ever +made was a prize for a real estate advertisement +in poetry, and of course after that I thought that +I must 'lisp in numbers' on all occasions; but it +was always lisping. And you—do you write +poetry, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she does," broke in Dum; "and Zebedee +thinks it is bully poetry. He said he was astonished +that she could do it. And he is a newspaper +writer and knows."</p> + +<p>"I am sure he does. Some day we will have a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +tournament of poetry, and you will show me +yours and I will show you mine. And you, Miss +Gaillard? Are you counting upon going to +college?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Green turned to Claire, who had been +very quiet as we strolled along Church Street, on +our way to Washington Park, which is a small +enclosure by the City Hall.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I—I will not pursue my studies any +more. I keep house for my father, who does not +approve of higher education for women," and +the girl sighed in spite of herself. "I could not +go, anyhow," she continued, "as Louis and papa +need me at home."</p> + +<p>Not one word of lack of money, which we +knew was an insurmountable obstacle with the +Gaillards, but I believe a Charlestonian would as +soon speak of lack of ancestry as lack of money. +Money is simply something they don't mention +except in the bosom of the family. They don't +mention ancestry much, either; not nearly as +much as Virginians do. They seem to take for +granted that anyone they are on speaking terms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +with must be well born or how did they get to +be on speaking terms?</p> + +<p>The Gaillards left us at Washington Park as +Claire thought she must hurry back to her papa, +who no doubt by that time was in a fret and a +fume over her long, unexplained absence. Mr. +Gaillard was the type of man who thought a +woman's place was in her home from morning +until night, and any little excursion she might +make from her home must be in pursuit of his, +the male's, happiness. Claire promised to see the +Misses Laurens and find out from them if we +could get board in their very exclusive home. +Louis asked to be allowed to take us to other +points of interest on the morrow, and with feelings +of mutual esteem we parted.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE HEAVENLY VISION</div> + + +<p>That little park in the heart of Charleston is +a very delightful spot. It is a tiny park, but +every inch of it seems teeming with interest, historical +and poetical. In the center is the shaft +erected by the Washington Light Infantry to +their dead in '61-'65. The obelisk is in three sections +of granite, representing the three companies. +On the steps of the square pedestal are +cut the twelve great battles of the war.</p> + +<p>Zebedee dared us to recite them, but we fell +down most woefully, except Dum, who named all +but Secessionville.</p> + +<p>Little darkies were playing on the steps, running +around the shaft and shouting with glee as +they bumped their hard heads together and rolled +down the steps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Black rascals!" exclaimed Zebedee. "If it +had not been for you, that monument need never +have been erected."</p> + +<p>But the little imps kept up their game with renewed +glee, hoping to attract the attention of the +tourists. Tourists were simply made of pennies, +in the minds of the Charleston pickaninnies. Seeing +we had noticed them, they flocked to where +we had settled ourselves on some benches facing +the monument and began in their peculiar South +Carolina lingo to demand something of us—what +it was it took some penetration to discover. +There were five of them, about the raggedest +little monkeys I ever saw. Their clothes stayed +on by some miracle of modesty, but every now +and then a streak of shiny black flesh could be +glimpsed through the interstices. (I got that +word from Professor Green, which I put down +in my notebook for safekeeping.)</p> + +<p>"Do' white fo'ks wan' we-all sin' li'l' song?"</p> + +<p>"What?" from all of us.</p> + +<p>"Sin' li'l' song! La, la, la, tim chummy loo!" +and the blackest and sassiest and most dilapidated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +of them all opened his big mouth with its +gleaming teeth and let forth a quaint chant.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sing us a little song?" and we laughed +aloud.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, we do," assented Professor Green, +"but don't get too close. The acoustics would be +better from a short distance, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Edwin is enough of a Yankee not to like +darkies coming too close," laughed Mrs. Green. +"You know a Northerner's interest in the race is +purely theoretical. When it comes right down +to it, we Southerners are the only ones who really +understand them. I remember what one of the +leaders of the negroes said: 'A Northerner +loves the negro but has no use for a nigger, +while a Southerner can't stand the negro but +will do anything on earth for a nigger.'"</p> + +<p>"That's right, I believe," said Zebedee; "but I +must say I agree with Doctor Green, and think +under the circumstances that a short distance will +help the acoustics."</p> + +<p>The five song birds formed a half-circle a few +feet from us, and, led by the sassy black one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +poured forth their souls in melody. The leader +seemed to be leader because he was the only one +with shoes on. His shoes were ladies' buttoned +shoes, much too long and on the wrong feet, +which gave their proud possessor a peculiar +twisted appearance. Having good black legs of +his own, he needed no stockings.</p> + +<p>"It must be a great convenience to be born +with black legs," sighed Dee. "You can go bare-legged +when you've a mind to, and if you should +be so prissy as to wear stockings, when they get +holes in them they wouldn't show."</p> + +<p>The following is the song that the little boys +sang, choosing it evidently from a keen sense of +humor and appreciation of fun:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"How yer git on wid yer washin'?<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">'Berry well,' yer say?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Better charge dem Yankee big price</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Fo' dey gits away.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Dey is come hyar fer de wedder,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Pockets full ob money.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Some one got ter do dey washin',</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Glad it's me, my honey.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Wen I ca'y in de basket,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Eb'y week I laff</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Des ter see dem plunkin' out</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Dollah an' a ha'f.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Co'se I ain't cha'ge home fo'ks dat,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Eben cuff an' collah,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Tro' in wid dey udder clo's—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">All wash fer a dollah.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Soon de Yankees will be gone,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">An' jes de po' fo'ke here;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Cha'ge dem, honey, all yer kin</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Ter las' yer trou' de year."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>When they finished this song, which was given +in a high, peculiar, chanting tune, the little boy +of the shoes began to dance, cutting the pigeon +wing as well as it had ever been done on a vaudeville +stage, I am sure, while the other four patted +with such spirit and in such excellent time +that Zebedee got up and danced a little <i>pas seul</i>, +and Mrs. Green declared it was all she could do +to keep from joining him.</p> + +<p>"I learned to jig long before I did to waltz," +she said, "and I find myself returning to the wild +when I hear good patting."</p> + +<p>"So did I," I said; "Tweedles can pat as well +as a darky. We will have a dancing match +some day, too."</p> + +<p>The minstrels were remunerated beyond their +dreams of avarice, and cantered off joyfully to +buy groun'-nut cakes from the old mauma on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +the corner, where she sat with her basket of +goodies on her lap, waving her palmetto fan, +between dozes, to scare away the flies.</p> + +<p>"Who's the old cove over there with the Venus +de Milo effect of arms?" asked Zebedee, pointing +to a much-mutilated statue near the Meeting +Street entrance of the park.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's William Pitt. Louis Gaillard +told me we would find it here," explained Dee. +"He said it was erected in seventeen-sixty-nine +by the citizens of Charleston in honor of his promoting +the repeal of the Stamp Act. His arm +got knocked off by a cannon ball in the siege of +Charleston."</p> + +<p>"This over here is Valentine's bust of Henry +Timrod," called Dum from a very interesting-looking +bronze statue that had attracted her artistic +eye all the time the little nigs were singing.</p> + +<p>"Timrod! Oh, Edwin, he is the one I am most +interested in in all South Carolina," and Mrs. +Green joined Dum to view the bust from all angles. +Of course, all of us followed.</p> + +<p>"'Through clouds and through sunshine, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +peace and in war, amid the stress of poverty and +the storm of civil strife, his soul never faltered,'" +read Mrs. Green from the inscription on the monument +of one of the truest poets of the South. +"'To his poetic mission he was faithful to the +end. In life and in death he was "Not disobedient +unto the heavenly vision."'"</p> + +<p>I whipped out my little notebook and began +feverishly to copy the tribute. I found Mrs. +Green doing the same thing in a similar little +book.</p> + +<p>"'Not disobedient to the heavenly vision'! I +should like to have such a thing on my monument. +I used to think that just so I could make +a lot of money I wouldn't mind what kind of +stuff I wrote; but now I do want to live up to an +ideal," she exclaimed to me. "Do you feel that +way?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I do or not. I don't +believe I could stand the stress of having my +manuscript rejected time after time and the +storm of returning it again and again. I am +afraid I'd be willing to have written the Elsie<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +books just to have made as much money as they +say the author of them has made. I know that +sounds pretty bad, but——"</p> + +<p>"I understand, my dear. I fancy my feeling +as I do is something that has come to me just +because the making of money is not of as much +importance to me as it used to be. There was a +time in my girlhood when I would have written +Elsie books or even worse with joy just to make +the money."</p> + +<p>"I can't quite believe it. You look so spirituelle, +and I believe you have always been obedient +to the heavenly vision."</p> + +<p>"Look on this side," said my new friend, +laughing and blushing in such a girlish way that +it seemed ridiculous to talk of her girlhood as +though it had passed. "This inscription is more +utilitarian:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'This memorial has been erected with the proceeds of +the recent sale of a very large edition of the author's +poems, by the Timrod Memorial Association, of South +Carolina.'</p></div> + +<div class='unindent'>"and then:</div> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Genius, like Egypt's Monarch, timely wise,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Erects its own memorial ere it dies.'</span><br /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Edwin, look! Here is the ode that mother +sings to little Mildred, here on the back of the +monument. Mildred is my baby, you know," she +said, in explanation to us, "and mother sings the +most charming things to her."</p> + +<p>"Please read it to us, Molly; I didn't bring my +glasses."</p> + +<p>That is what Professor Green said, but when +we had known him longer we found out he was +not so very dependent on glasses that he could +not read an inscription carved in one-inch letters, +but that he always made his wife read aloud +when he could. When she read poetry, it was +music, indeed. It seems he first realized what +he felt for her when she read the "Blessed Damosel" +in his class at college. He had been her +instructor, as he had Miss Ball's.</p> + +<p>"This ode of Timrod's was sung for the first +time on the occasion of decorating the graves of +the Confederate dead at Magnolia Cemetery, here +in Charleston, in sixty-seven, so I am told."</p> + +<p>No wonder Professor Edwin wanted his Molly +to read the poem! Her voice was the most wonderfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +sympathetic and singularly fitted to the +reading of poetry that I have ever heard. I +longed for my father to hear her read. He could +make me weep over poetry when I would go dry-eyed +through all kinds of trouble, and now Mrs. +Green had the same power:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Sleep sweetly in your humble graves,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Sleep, martyrs of a fallen cause;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Though yet no marble column craves</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The pilgrim here to pause.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'In seeds of laurel in the earth<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The blossom of your fame is blown,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And somewhere, waiting for its birth,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The shaft is in the stone!</span><br /> +<br /> +"'Meanwhile, behalf the tardy years<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Which keep in trust your storied tombs,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Behold! your sisters bring their tears,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">And these memorial blooms.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'Small tributes! but your shades will smile<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">More proudly on these wreaths today,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Than when some cannon-moulded pile</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Shall overlook this bay.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'Stoop, angels, hither from the skies!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">There is no holier spot of ground</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Than where defeated valor lies,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">By mourning beauty crowned!'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>We were all very quiet for a moment and then +St. Michael's bells rang out six-thirty o'clock, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +in spite of poetical emotions we knew the pangs +of hunger were due and it was time for dinner.</p> + +<p>We were to sit together at a larger table that +evening at dinner, to the satisfaction of all of us.</p> + +<p>"It is a mutual mash," declared Dee, when we +went to our room to don dinner clothes. "The +Greens seem to like us, and don't we just adore +the Greens, though!"</p> + +<p>"I believe I like him as much as I do her," said +Dum. "Of course, he is not so paintable. She +makes me uncertain whether I want to be a sculptor +or a painter. I have been thinking how she +would look in marble, and while she has good +bones, all right, and would show up fine in marble, +she would certainly lose out if she had to be +pure white and could not have that lovely flush +and those blue, blue eyes and that red-gold hair."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you talk about Mrs. Green's +bones!" exclaimed Dee, rather indignantly. "I +can't see that her bones are the least bit prominent."</p> + +<p>"Well, goose, I mean her proportions. Beauty, +to my mind, does not amount to a row of pins if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +it is only skin deep; it's got to go clean through +to the bones."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't believe it. I bet you Mrs. +Green's skeleton would look just like yours or +mine or Miss Plympton's or anybody else's."</p> + +<p>"You flatter yourself."</p> + +<p>"Well, girls," I cried, feeling that pacific intervention +was in order, "there's no way to prove +or disprove except by X-ray photography so long +as we have Mrs. Green on this mundane sphere. +I certainly would not have a row over it. Mrs. +Green's bones are very pleasingly covered, to my +way of thinking."</p> + +<p>"They are beautiful bones, or their being well +covered would not make any difference. Just see +here"—and Dum began rapidly sketching a skull +and then piling up hair on it and putting in a +nose and lips, etc.—"can't you see if the skull is +out of proportion with a jimber jaw and a bulging +forehead that all the pretty skin on earth +with hair like gold in the sunset would not make +it beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I know one thing," put in Dee: "I know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +you could take a hunk of clay and start to make +a mouse and then change your mind and keep on +piling clay on, and shaping it, and patting it, and +moulding it until you had turned it into a cat. If +you can do that much, I should like to know +why the Almighty couldn't do the same thing. +Couldn't He start with chunky bones, and then +fill them out and mould the flesh, pinching in +here and plumping out there until He had made +a tall and slender person?"</p> + +<p>"Dee, you make me tired—you argue like a +Sunday School superintendent who is thinking +about turning into a preacher. The idea of the +Almighty's changing His mind to start out with! +Don't you know that from the very beginning of +everything the Almighty has planned our proportions, +such as they are, and He would no more +put a little on here and pull a little off there than +He would start to make a mouse and turn it into +a cat?"</p> + +<p>"All right, if you think a beauty doctor can do +more than the Almighty, then I think your theology +needs looking after."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know one thing," I said: "I know it is after +seven and you will keep your father waiting for +his dinner when we already kept him waiting for +his luncheon. The Greens are to have dinner +with us, and it is mighty rude to keep them +waiting."</p> + +<p>Tweedles hurriedly got into their dinner +dresses and were only ten minutes late, after all.</p> + +<p>"What made you girls so late?" demanded +Zebedee, when we were seated around the table, +encouraging our appetites with soup, which is +what the domestic science lecturers say is all that +soup does.</p> + +<p>"We were having a discussion, Dum and I. +Page was the Dove of Peace, or we would be +going it yet."</p> + +<p>"Tell us what the discussion was about and we +will forgive you," said Professor Green.</p> + +<p>"It was about Mrs. Green's bones," blurted out +Dum.</p> + +<p>"My bones! I thought I had them so well covered +that casual observers would not be conscious +of them," laughed the beautiful skeleton, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +was radiant in a gray-blue crêpe de chine dress +that either gave the selfsame color to her eyes or +borrowed it from them, one could never make out +which.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we did not mean you were skinny," and +Dum explained what the trend of the argument +had been, much to the amusement of the owner +of the bones in question and also of her husband +and Zebedee.</p> + +<p>"Miss Dum's argument reminds me of something +that Du Maurier says in that rather remarkable +little book, 'Trilby,'" said Professor +Green. "He says that Trilby's bones were beautiful, +and even when she was in the last stages of +a wasting disease, the wonderful proportion of +her bones kept her beautiful."</p> + +<p>"There now, Dee, consider yourself beaten!" +and Dee acknowledged her defeat by helping +Dum to the heart of the celery.</p> + +<p>We had a merry dinner and found our new +friends as interesting as they seemed to find us. +We discussed everything from Shakespeare to +the movies. Professor Green was not a bit pedagogic,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +which was a great comfort. Persons +who teach so often work out of hours—teach all +the time. If preachers and teachers would join +a union and make a compact for an eight-hour +workday, what a comfort it would be to the community +at large!</p> + +<p>"Edwin, Miss Allison——"</p> + +<p>"Please call me Page!"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Page—it certainly does come +more trippingly on my tongue—Page is meaning +to write, and she, too, is putting things down in +a notebook."</p> + +<p>"I advised that," said Mr. Tucker. "It seems +to me that if from the beginning I had only started +a notebook, I would have a valuable possession +by now. As I get older my memory is not +so good."</p> + +<p>When Zebedee talked about getting older it +always made people laugh. He sounded somehow +as little boys do when they say what they +are going to do when they put on long pants. I +fancy he and Professor Green were about the +same age, but he certainly looked younger. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +must have been born looking younger than ever +a baby looked before, and eternal youth was his.</p> + +<p>"I know a man in New York, newspaper man, +who began systematically keeping a scrap-book +when he was a youth. He indexed it and compiled +it with much care, and now that he is quite +an old man he actually gets his living—and a +very good living at that—out of that scrap-book," +declared Zebedee. "He has information at hand +for almost any subject, and the kind of intimate +information one would not find in an encyclopedia. +He will get up an article on any subject +the editors demand, and that kind of handy man +commands good pay."</p> + +<p>"It is certainly a good habit to form if you +want to do certain kinds of writing, but it takes +a very strong will for a writer of fiction who +runs a notebook not to be coerced by that notebook. +I mean in this way: make the characters +do certain things or say certain things just to +lead up to some anecdote that the author happens +to have heard and jotted down in his notebook. +Anecdotes in books should happen just as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +naturally as they do in life: come in because +there is some reason for them. The author who +deliberately makes a setting for some good story +that has no bearing on the subject-matter is a +bore just as the chronic joke-teller is. If you can +see the writer leading up to a joke, can see the +notebook method too plainly, it is bad art. I'd +rather have puns—they are at least spontaneous."</p> + +<p>"Please lend me your pencil, Zebedee," I entreated.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Write down what Professor Green has just +said in my notebook. I think some day it may +come in handy."</p> + +<p>"You mean as a warning to all young authors?" +questioned the professor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I think I may have my characters all +sitting around a table at a hotel in Charleston +and gradually work up to the point and have +some one get it off."</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Green, also an advocate of the notebook +system as a memory jogger, applauded me +for my sauciness to her wise husband.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE GUITAR</div> + + +<p>"Page," whispered Dee to me, "do you know, +I can't sleep tonight unless I know that the awful +rope hanging to that chandelier has been +taken away. I have a terrible feeling that Louis +might get despondent again and go back there +and try to do the same thing. I can't call the +thing by name—it seems so horrible."</p> + +<p>I knew that Dee was still laboring under quite +a strain. During dinner she had been very quiet, +and now that we had adjourned to the pleasant +courtyard on which the dining room opened, +where the gentlemen were indulging in coffee +and cigars and the rest of us were contenting +ourselves with just coffee, she seemed to be nervous +and fidgety. Zebedee noticed it, too, and +every now and then I caught him watching her +with some anxiety.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> + +<p>To catch a young man in the nick of time and +keep him from making away with himself is +cause for congratulation but not conducive to +calmness, when one happens to be only seventeen +and not overly calm at that.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you tell your father?" I whispered +back.</p> + +<p>"He'll think I am silly, and then, too, I don't +want him to think that I think Louis is likely to +repeat his performance. It might give him an +idea that Louis is weak and make him lose interest +in him. I don't consider him weak, but he is +so down in the mouth there is no telling how the +thing will work out. Can't you make up some +plan? Couldn't we sneak off and go down there? +Would you be afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Afraid! Me? You know I am not afraid on +the street, but I must say that old custard-colored +house is some gruesome."</p> + +<p>While I was wavering as to whether I could or +couldn't go into the deserted hotel at night with +no one but Dee, Professor Green proposed that +all of us should take a walk down on the Battery.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is a wonderful moon rising this minute +over there in the ocean and not one soul to welcome +it."</p> + +<p>So we quickly got into some wraps, as we remembered +what a breeze could blow on the Battery, +and Dee concealed under her coat her electric +flashlight and I put my scissors in my pocket.</p> + +<p>"We can shake the crowd and get our business +attended to without anyone's being the wiser," I +whispered.</p> + +<p>A place that is ugly by day can be beautiful by +moonlight, and a place that is beautiful by day +can be so wonderful by moonlight that it positively +hurts like certain strains of the violin in +the "Humoresque" or tones of a great contralto's +voice. Charleston on that night was like a +dream city. We passed old St. Michael's churchyard, +where the old cedar bed loomed like a +soft, dark shadow among the white tombstones.</p> + +<p>"How it shows up even at night!" said Zebedee. +"It reminds me of what a friend of mine +once said: that the way to make yourself heard +in a noisy crowd and to attract the attention of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +everyone is to whisper. The noisy crowd will be +quiet in a moment and everybody will try to hear +what you are saying. The low-toned whisper of +that old bedstead is heard above all the clamor of +the snow-white, high-toned tombstones."</p> + +<p>"Humph! Isn't our pa poetical tonight!" +teased Dum.</p> + +<p>"I should say I am! I bet you are, too, but you +are too old to confess it. I glory in it."</p> + +<p>We turned down Tradd Street to Legare, +which is, I fancy, the most picturesque street in +the United States. We had learned that afternoon +to pronounce Legare properly. We had +naturally endeavored to give it the finest French +accent, but were quietly put on the right track +by Claire Gaillard. "Lagree" is the way, and +now we aired our knowledge to the Greens, who +were pronouncing it wrong just as we had.</p> + +<p>"Tradd Street was named for the first male +child born in the Colony, so the guide-book tells +me," said Mrs. Green. "If there were any females +born, they did not see fit to commemorate +the fact."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps the early settlers did not consider the +female of the race anything to be walked on—maybe +they were not the downtrodden sex that +they are in the present day. A street is no good +except to walk on or ride over, and surely a female's +name would not be appropriate for such +an object. My wife is very jealous for the rights +of women, whether they be alive or dead," said +Professor Green.</p> + +<p>"They might at least name something after us +besides things to eat. Sally Lunn and Lady <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Bal more'">Baltimore</ins> +cake are not much of a showing, to my +mind," laughed Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"There's Elizabethan ruff, and de Medici collar, +and Queen Anne cottage, and Alice blue," I +suggested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and Catherine wheels, and Minnie balls, +and Molly-coddles——"</p> + +<p>"I give up! I give up! I was thinking of +Charleston and the first male baby."</p> + +<p>And so we chatted on as we turned the corner +into Legare. We soon came to the beautiful +Smyth gateway and then to the Simonton entrance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +They vie with each other in beauty of +design. The shutters of all the houses on the +street were tightly closed, although it was a very +mild evening, but we could hear light laughter +and gay talk from some of the walled gardens; +and occasionally through the grilles we caught +glimpses of girls in light dresses seated on garden +benches among the palmettos and magnolias, +their attendant swains behaving very +much as attendant swains might behave in more +prosaic surroundings.</p> + +<p>"I can't think of the girls who live in these +walled gardens as ever being dressed in anything +but diaphanous gauze, playing perhaps with +grace hoops or tossing rose leaves in the air," +said the professor. "It seems like a picture +world, somehow."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but behind the picture no doubt there is +a dingy canvas and even cobwebs, and maybe it +is hung over an ugly old scar on the paper and +has to stay there to hide the eye-sore—there +might even be a stovepipe hole behind it," I said, +sadly thinking of the Gaillards and how picturesque<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +they were and what sad things there were +in their lives.</p> + +<p>"Mercy, how forlorn we are!" exclaimed Zebedee. +"Let's cheer up and merrily sing tra-la! +Right around the corner here on King Street is +the old Pringle House. They say there has been +more jollity and revel in that mansion than almost +anywhere in the South."</p> + +<p>The Pringle House looked very dignified and +beautiful in the mellow light that the moon cast +over it. It is of very solid and simple design, +with broad, hospitable door and not quite so +formidable a wall as some of its neighbors; at +least one can see the entrance without getting in +a flying machine.</p> + +<p>"Ike Marvel was married in that front parlor +there—the room to the right, I believe it was," +said Professor Green. "I wonder if he wrote his +'Reveries of a Bachelor' before or after the ceremony?"</p> + +<p>"I'd like to get in there and poke around," I +sighed.</p> + +<p>"And so should I," chimed in Mrs. Green. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +am sure it is full of possible plots and counterplots +for you and me, my dear."</p> + +<p>"Do you young ladies know where the Misses +Laurens live?" questioned the professor. "We +might take a view of our possible abode as 'paying +guests' and see how it looks by moonlight."</p> + +<p>And so we left the Pringle House and wended +our way back to Meeting Street, where we had +only that morning seen the pale, sad ladies buying +ten cents' worth of shrimps and regretting that +they were not as big as lobsters. We hoped when +they got the paying guests they would not be +quite so economical in their purchases.</p> + +<p>The house was still and dark except for a +gleam of light from an upper chamber.</p> + +<p>"A wax candle, I'll be bound, in an old silver +candlestick!" I thought.</p> + +<p>The unpainted board gates were uncompromisingly +ugly by moonlight as well as by day; +but the old house with its long galleries and +chaste front door was even more beautiful.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edwin, do you think we will really get +into that house? It is to me even lovelier than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +the much-vaunted Pringle place. But how sad +about these gates! They look so new and ugly."</p> + +<p>"Page has a lovely story she has made up +about the gates," said Dum. Dee was still quiet, +with little to say on that moonlight walk. "She +is sure the pale old ladies sold them for a fabulous +sum to some rich Yankee. She also says +she knows the younger and less pale of the old +ladies used to kiss her beau through the grille +of the old wrought-iron gate——"</p> + +<p>"Beau! Why, Dum Tucker, I never used such +a word in connection with an inmate of this old +aristocratic mansion! I said lover. Beau, indeed! +I should as soon think of saying she was +chewing gum or doing something else equally +plebeian."</p> + +<p>"Hush! Listen! I hear a guitar," from +Zebedee.</p> + +<p>From the stillness of the garden behind the +high brick wall where the ugly board gate flaunted +its newness we could hear the faint twanging +of a guitar. It sounded faint and cracked, but +very sweet and true, and then a plaintive old soprano<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +voice began to sing. We were afraid to +breathe or move. It had the quality of a lunar +rainbow it was once my joy and privilege to behold: +a reflection of a reflection, the raindrops +reflecting the moon, the moon reflecting the sun. +I can give no idea of that experience without repeating +the song she sang. I could not remember +it, and had never seen it in print, but Professor +Green, who seemed to be a person who +knew many things worth while knowing, told us +it was a poem of Dinah Maria Mulock Craik's, +called "In Our Boat." He sent me a copy of it +after we got back to Richmond:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Stars trembling o'er us and sunset before us,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Mountains in shadow and forests asleep;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Down the dim river we float on forever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Speak not, ah, breathe not—there's peace on the deep.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'Come not, pale sorrow, flee till tomorrow;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Rest softly falling o'er eyelids that weep;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">While down the river we float on forever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Speak not, ah, breathe not—there's peace on the deep.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'As the waves cover the depths we glide over,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">So let the past in forgetfulness sleep,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">While down the river we float on forever,</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Speak not, ah, breathe not—there's peace on the deep.</span><br /> +<br /> +"'Heaven shine above us, bless all that love us;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">All whom we love in thy tenderness keep!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">While down the river we float on forever,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Speak not, ah, breathe not—there's peace on the deep.'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Nobody said a word. We softly crept down +the street.</p> + +<p>"Now you understand how we happened to +listen when Claire and her father were talking," +I whispered to Zebedee. "It seemed no more real +than this old lady's song did."</p> + +<p>Zebedee wiped his eyes. Of course the song +and its setting had made all the Tuckers weep. +Molly Brown was not dry-eyed, and one might +have spied a lunar rainbow in my eyes, too.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>MORAL COURAGE</div> + + +<p>The Battery was wonderful, wonderful, and +out of all whooping. The moon was high up +over the water, having made her début sooner +than Professor Green had calculated. The tide +was coming in, or rather rolling in, and every +wave seemed to rise up to catch a little kiss from +the moon. The palmettos were, as is their way, +rustling and waving their leaves like ladies of +olden times in swishing silks using their fans as +practiced flirts. The live-oaks did very well as +cavaliers bending gallantly to catch the tender +nothings of the coquettes. The Spanish moss on +one particularly twisted oak hung like a great +beard from the chin of some ancient, and as the +slender palmetto swayed in the breeze and waved +her tresses provokingly near, the gray beard +mingled with them for a moment.</p> + +<p>"The old rip!" exclaimed Zebedee to me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, I was just thinking that! It does look +just like an old man."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker and I, as no doubt I have remarked +before, often came out with exactly the +same thought almost as though we were able to +read each other's minds.</p> + +<p>"Of course she should not have led him on if +she did not want to be kissed. She certainly +came very near chucking him under the chin. A +girl can't expect a man to withstand temptation +forever. Just because a man is looked upon as a +gray-bearded loon is no sign he feels like one."</p> + +<p>The others had gone on ahead and were standing +under the monument of Sergeant Jasper, +who was still patiently pointing to Fort Moultrie.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it is a girl's fault always if a +man kisses her?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no, not exactly. I certainly don't think +it is a girl's fault for being kissable—but it seems +to me her instinct might tell her when she is getting +too kissable and she might—wear a veil—or +do something to protect the poor man a little."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why should he not put on smoked glasses or +look the other way? I can't see that it is up to +the poor palmetto."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you are right," he said, more soberly, +it seemed to me, than the conversation warranted. +"I am going to Columbia tomorrow," rather +sullenly.</p> + +<p>"Are you, really? Tweedles and I are going +to miss you terribly. We do wish you didn't +have to go."</p> + +<p>"'We'! Can't you ever say I? Do you have +to lump yourself with Dum and Dee about everything?"</p> + +<p>What a funny, cross Zebedee this was! I +looked at him in amazement. He was quite wild-eyed, +with a look on his face that was new to me. +If I had not known that he was a teetotaler, or +almost one, I might have thought he had been +drinking. I must have presented a startled appearance, +for in a moment he pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Page! I think the moon must +have gone to my head. The full moon makes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +me act queer sometimes, anyhow. You have +heard of persons like that, haven't you? That's +where lunatic got its name—Luna, the moon, you +know," he rattled on at a most astonishing pace. +"How old do you reckon Mrs. Green is? She +looks very young. Do you think Professor +Green is as old as I am?"</p> + +<p>"Older, I should think; but then he is so—so—high-foreheaded +it makes him look older."</p> + +<p>"He was her teacher at college, so they tell +me. She must have been quite young when he +first knew her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she was only sixteen when she entered +Wellington, I believe."</p> + +<p>"They seem very happy," with a deep sigh that +made me feel so sorry for him.</p> + +<p>"He must be thinking of his little Virginia," I +thought. She had lived only a year after her +marriage and had been only nineteen when she +died—he only a year or so older. "I suspect the +moonlight reminds him of her. I know he did +not mean to pick me up so sharply, and I am just +not going to notice it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dee, who was biding her time hoping to get +the crowd settled somewhere so we could slip off +to the custard-colored hotel, now called to us to +see the bust of William Gilmore Simms, and to +tell her father about the nice, aristocratic old policeman +who had so enthralled us by reciting the +"Grape-Vine Swing" that morning.</p> + +<p>Finally, with much maneuvering on her part, +everyone was seated on some benches looking out +over the water, with a clump of palmettos protecting +them from the wind and at the same time +hiding the road to the old house on the corner. +Professor Green and Zebedee had entered into +an amicable discussion of the political situation, +and Mrs. Green was in the midst of an anecdote +about her friend and sister-in-law, Judy Kean, +now Mrs. Kent Brown, an anecdote told especially +for Dum's benefit, since it was of art and +artists.</p> + +<p>"Now's the time! Hurry!" whispered Dee.</p> + +<p>In a moment we had slipped away and were +sprinting along the walk to the custard-colored +house. It was not much of a run, about two city<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +blocks, I fancy, and we did it in an incredibly +short time.</p> + +<p>The old house looked very peaceful and still +from without, but as we entered the door we +found that, as was its habit, a wind was imprisoned +in its walls and was whistling dolorously. +The moonlight flooded the hall and stairs, making +it quite light. Dee clutched my hand, and +we went up those steps very quietly and quickly, +through the bridal chamber and on into the corridor +beyond, on which the numbered doors +opened.</p> + +<p>No. 13 was open! We paused for a moment +as we approached it. Hark! Certainly there +was someone in the room. It seemed to me as +though I weighed a million pounds and had only +the strength of a kitten. Fascinated, we crept +closer, although I do not see how the kitten in +me lifted the great weight I felt myself to have. +There was a dim light in the room from a small +kerosene lantern. Louis Gaillard was there, +standing tiptoe upon the pile of bricks. Was he +trying to fit that awful noose around his neck<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +again? I felt like screaming as Dee had in the +morning, but no sound would come from my dry +throat.</p> + +<p>Louis' face, that could be seen in the light of +the lantern, did not look like the face of one who +meant to make away with himself. There was +purpose in it, but it was the purpose of high resolve. +Grasping the rope as high up as he could +with one hand, with the other he gave it a sharp +cut with a knife. Dee and I leaned against each +other for support. The rope was down, and now +the thing for us to do was get out of that building +as fast as we could. Louis must never know +we had been there. We blessed the wind, which +made such a noise rattling the shutters and +streamers of hanging wall paper that the boy remained +absolutely unconscious of our presence. +He had begun to destroy the pile of bricks as we +crept away, taking them carefully back to the +hearth where he had found them.</p> + +<p>We sailed down the steps of that old hotel as +hungry boarders might have done in days gone +by "when they heard the dinner bell." We were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +out on the sea-wall and racing back to our friends +before Louis had finished with the bricks, I am +sure.</p> + +<p>"Page," panted Dee, "don't you think Louis +had lots of moral courage to go back there where +he had so nearly come to grief and take down +that rope and unpile those bricks?"</p> + +<p>"Courage! I should say he had! I was nearly +scared to death when I saw him there, weren't +you?"</p> + +<p>"I have never gone through such a moment in +my life. It was worse than this morning, because +this morning I did not know what to expect, +while tonight I almost knew what was coming—the +worst. When I saw the lantern and +realized Louis was there, I could almost see him +with the noose around his neck!"</p> + +<p>Dee shivered and drew her coat more closely +around her. Her face looked pale and pinched +in the moonlight, while I was all in a glow from +our race along the sea-wall.</p> + +<p>"Dee, I believe you are all in."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm all right—just a bit cold."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right, much! You are having a chill this +very minute—you are, Dee—a nervous chill, and +no wonder!"</p> + +<p>We had been gone such a short time that no +one seemed to have missed us. Professor Green +was still on the subject of initiative and referendum, +and Mrs. Green had just finished a thrilling +tale of art students' life in Paris when we +sank on the bench beside them. Dee was shaking +like an aspen, although she still insisted there +was nothing the matter.</p> + +<p>"Zebedee, Dee must go home immediately. She +is sick, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Dee sick?" and he sprang to his feet. +"What's the matter with you, honey? Where do +you feel sick? What hurts you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing! Oh, nothing!" and poor Dee's +overwrought nerves snapped and she went off +into as nice a fit of hysterics as one could find +outside of a big boarding-school for girls.</p> + +<p>"Dee, Dee, please tell me what is the matter!" +begged her frantic father.</p> + +<p>"She can't talk, but I can! She must go home<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +and be put to bed. She has had too much excitement +for one day."</p> + +<p>"Where have you and she just been?" rather +sternly, while Dee sobbed on with occasional giggles, +Mrs. Brown and Dum taking turns patting +her.</p> + +<p>"We have been back to the custard-colored +house," I faltered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you little geese! What did you want +there, please?"</p> + +<p>"Dee could not sleep until she knew the rope +was cut from the chandelier. We went back to +cut it down."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see. Did you cut it down?"</p> + +<p>"No; Louis was there cutting it down when we +got there. We didn't let him see us. But at first +when we saw him we thought—we thought—maybe—he—he——" +I could go no further. I +could not voice our apprehensions before the +Greens, who knew nothing of our experience of +the morning.</p> + +<p>"You poor babies! Why didn't you ask me to +attend to it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I wanted to, but Dee said you might think it +was silly of us; and then she did not want you to +think that maybe Louis was not trustworthy. +She felt he needed all the friends he had—not to +lose any."</p> + +<p>"Loyal old Dee! Now, honey baby, you put +your arm around me and I'll put my arm around +you, and we will get over to the King Street car +and be back to the hotel in a jiffy. The rest of +you can walk, if you want to."</p> + +<p>None of us wanted to, as we felt some uneasiness +about Dee, although she had calmed down +to an occasional sob that might pass for a hiccough. +We piled on the trolley and were back +at the hotel in short order.</p> + +<p>The good breeding of the Greens was very +marked during this little mix-up. Never once by +word or look did they show the slightest curiosity +as to what we were talking about. They were +kind and courteous and anxious to help Dee have +her chill and get over the hysterics, but that +was all.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't I better get a doctor for Dee?" poor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +Zebedee inquired, almost distracted, as he always +was when one of his girls had anything the +matter.</p> + +<p>"I really do not think so," said Mrs. Green. +"If you will let me take Dee in charge, I am sure +I can pull her through. Doctor McLean, at Wellington, +complains that I have lessened his practice +by taking charge of so many cases where a +doctor is not really needed."</p> + +<p>"You had better trust her, Tucker; she has +healing in her wings." (Professor Green and +Zebedee had sealed their rapidly growing friendship +by calling each other Green and Tucker.) +Tweedles always said that no one ever called +their father Mr. Tucker longer than twenty-four +hours unless he got to acting Mr. Tuckerish.</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Green came to our room and had Dee +in bed after a good hot bath and a dose of aromatic +spirits of ammonia. She brought her own +hot-water bag and put it to her feet, and then, +tucking her in, gave her a motherly kiss. As she +was certainly not very much older than we were, +I might have said big-sisterly, but there is a difference,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +and that kiss was motherly. I know it +was because I got one, too, and it seemed to me +to be the female gender of the kind father gives +to me, only on rare occasions, however, as we are +not a very kissy family.</p> + +<p>"Now, dear, you must go to sleep and not +dream even pleasant dreams. Don't dream at +all."</p> + +<p>And our kind friend prepared to leave us.</p> + +<p>"Well, I feel fine now—but—but—I can't go +to sleep until I tell you all about Louis and what +happened today."</p> + +<p>"But, my dear, you need not tell me. I think +you must be quiet now. You see, I told your +father I would be the doctor, and I must not let +you do things to excite you. Talking about a +trying experience would be the worst thing in the +world for you."</p> + +<p>"But I have been thinking it all over and I feel +that you and Professor Green would be the ones +of all others to take an interest in Louis and advise +what to do about him."</p> + +<p>"All right—in the morning!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No! Tonight. I want you to talk it over +with your husband tonight."</p> + +<p>"If you feel that way about it, just shut your +eyes and go to sleep; Dum and I will do the telling +without your assistance," I said; and Dee, +who was in the last stages of exhaustion, gave +in and was asleep almost before we got the +light off.</p> + +<p>Dum and I followed Mrs. Green to her room, +where we told her the whole frightful business. +She was all interest and solicitude.</p> + +<p>"The poor boy! I just know Edwin will think +of something to do for him. Although Edwin +has taught girls always, he does understand boys +thoroughly. If we can get board with the +Laurens ladies we will be quite near Louis and +his sister, and as we get to know them we can +find out how to help the boy without hurting his +pride. I think all of you girls have shown the +'mettle of the pasture' in the way you have grappled +with this very trying occasion."</p> + +<p>"'Twas Dee! She thought of asking Louis to +lunch and everything. Dee has so much heart, I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +wonder she is not lop-sided," said Dum, who was +as upset as Zebedee over Dee's going to pieces. +"You see, Dee and I have lots of fusses, but it is +almost always my fault, because I am so mean. +Dee is the most wonderfullest person in the +world."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Green smiled and hugged the enthusiastic +Dum.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know what a sister can be. My sister, +Mildred, is not my twin in reality, but the Siamese +twins cannot be closer than we are in spirit. +I hardly ever see her now, either, as she lives in +the northwest and I am at Wellington all winter +and in Kentucky in the summer. Fortunately, +love can work by wireless at any distance, so absence +does not affect our affection for each +other."</p> + +<p>We told our lovely lady good night, and then +it was she gave us the selfsame kind of kiss she +had given Dee.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't it seem ridiculous that we have +known her only since this afternoon? I feel as +though I had known her all my life. If I go to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +New York to study at the League, she is going to +have me meet her sister-in-law, Mrs. Kent +Brown. She is the one Miss Ball told us about +who got in such funny scrapes at college—you +remember, Judy Kean, who dyed her hair black?"</p> + +<p>Dum and I were in the elevator, on our way +downstairs to hunt up Zebedee to tell him how +Dee was faring. We found him in the lobby, +still talking to Professor Green. He was greatly +relieved that Dee was herself again, and I assured +him that by morning she would be better +than herself.</p> + +<p>"I have been telling Green all about that poor +Louis Gaillard," he confessed. "I did not feel it +to be a breach of confidence, after the way Dee +had flopped, letting the cat out of the bag half-way, +anyhow; besides, I want him to talk the +matter over with his wife. I feel that perhaps +they will know how to help the boy."</p> + +<p>"Molly will, I feel sure. She always sees some +way to help."</p> + +<p>Dum and I burst out laughing at Professor +Green's words.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is just what she said about you," I +laughed. "Dee wanted us to tell her all about +Louis so she could talk it over with you, thinking +there might be something you could suggest +about helping him, and she said: 'Edwin will +think of something to do for him. He understands +boys thoroughly, if he does teach girls.'"</p> + +<p>And so ended our first day in Charleston. +What a day it had been! Rain and sunshine, +wind and moonlight, poetry and prose, fiction and +fact! A young life saved, and friendship born! +Dee going off in hysterics, and Dum and I so +tired at last that we could hardly crawl back into +the elevator to be borne to our room!</p> + +<p>We found Dee sleeping like a baby, and in five +minutes we were sleeping like two more babies. +I wonder if Louis Gaillard slept.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>ENGAGING BOARD</div> + + +<p>Whether Louis slept or not on that night after +his near-extinction, he was with us early the next +morning to bring the glad news that the Misses +Laurens would consent to receive us in their +home. The Greens were as delighted as we were. +Zebedee was to take the first available train to +Columbia, and as Professor Green had some important +mail to get off, arrangements were left to +the females. We were to call on the Misses +Laurens at eleven o'clock, accompanied by Claire +Gaillard.</p> + +<p>"Just to think that we are actually going to +live in that old house!" exclaimed Mrs. Green, +who was quite as enthusiastic over anything that +pleased her as any of us girls. "Do you think +we can ever know the one who sang, well enough +to ask her to sing to us?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I doubt it!" from Dum. "If they are as top-loftical +in their home as they were in the bus the +other morning, I doubt their even speaking to us. +But I want to see their furniture and portraits +whether they speak to us or not. I bet that house +is just running over with beautiful things."</p> + +<p>Claire, whom we picked up at her home on the +way to the Misses Laurens', endeavored to prepare +us for the stilted dignity of our prospective +hostesses. We had seen them in the bus and +knew how they could conduct themselves; but we +had also seen them haggling for shrimps, so we +knew they had their weaknesses; and we had +heard one of them sing, and knew that she at +least had a heart.</p> + +<p>In answer to the bell, which, by the way, was +the old-fashioned pulling kind that made a faint +jangle 'way off in the most remote end of the +house, a gawky, extremely black girl opened the +door that led from the street to a great long +porch or gallery. Steps from this porch led to a +tangled old garden with palmettos and magnolias +shading the walks, sadly neglected and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +grass-grown, that wound around flower beds +long since given over to their own sweet will. A +fat stone Cupid, heavily draped in cumbersome +stone folds, was in the act of shooting an iron +arrow at a snub-nosed Psyche some ten feet from +him. There was a sun-dial in the center of the +garden, and every now and then one spied an old +stone bench, crumbling and moss-grown, through +the tangle of vines and shrubs.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" came from all of us with one accord. It +was very lovely and very pathetic, this old garden, +so beautiful and so neglected and gone to +seed!</p> + +<p>"Louis is wild to restore it," whispered Claire. +"You know, he can do the most wonderful things +with a garden."</p> + +<p>We did know, having peeped into their garden +so rudely the day before, but we kept very quiet +about that.</p> + +<p>The gawky black girl plunged ahead of us and +ushered us into the house door. This door was +smaller than the one on the street, but followed +the same chaste style of architecture. The hall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +was astonishingly narrow, but the room we were +told to "Jes' go in an' res' yo'se'fs in yander!" +we found to be of fine proportions, a lofty, spacious +room.</p> + +<p>The fiddle-backed chairs and the spindle-legged +tables and claw-footed sofas in that room would +have driven a collector green with envy. Curtains +hung at the windows that were fit for bridal +veils, so fine they were and so undoubtedly real. +The portraits that lined the walls were so numerous +and so at home that somehow I felt it an impertinence +that I, a mere would-be boarder, +should look at them. They belonged and I didn't, +and if by good luck I could obtain an introduction +to them, then I might make so bold as to +raise my eyes to them, but not before.</p> + +<p>There was a dim, religious light in the room, +and the portraits, many of them needing varnishing +and cleaning, had almost retired into their +backgrounds. They peered out at us in some indignation, +those great soldiers and statesmen, +those belles and beauties. I don't know why it is +that ancestors always attained eminence and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +were great whatever they tried to do, while descendants +have to struggle along in mediocrity, +no matter how hard they try.</p> + +<p>The Misses Laurens glided into the room, and +Claire introduced us. I don't know how the girl +had accounted for her acquaintance with us. +Perhaps she had not been compelled to account +at all. We were received with courtesy but with +a strange aloofness that made me feel as though +I had just had the pleasure of being presented to +one of the portraits, not real flesh and blood. +Arabella and Judith were their names. To our +astonishment the elder, Miss Arabella, turned out +to be the sentimental one with the voice, while +Miss Judith, the younger, was the sterner of the +two and evidently the prime mover in this business +of taking "paying guests." Usually it is the +younger sister who goes off to romance and the +elder who is more practical; at least, it is that way +in fiction.</p> + +<p>"We have come to you, hoping you will take +us to"—Mrs. Green, who was spokesman for us, +faltered; could she say "board" to those two?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +Never!—"will let us come to stay with you." +That was better.</p> + +<p>"We shall be very pleased to offer you the hospitality +of our home during your stay in Charleston," +from Miss Judith.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we Charlestonians are always sorry +when guests to our city have to accept entertainment +at a hostelry," fluttered Miss Arabella. +"For a long time the better element of our community +was greatly opposed to the establishment +of such places. We argued that when visitors +came to Charleston, if they were distinguished +and worthy they should be entertained in private +homes; and if they were not distinguished and +not worthy, we did not care for them to sojourn +here under any circumstances."</p> + +<p>"We are a party of six," continued Mrs. +Green, doing her best to be businesslike in the +interview. "My husband and I, these three +young ladies, and Mr. Tucker, the father of these +two," indicating Tweedles, who were breathing +heavily, a sure sign of laughter that must come +sooner or later. "Mr. Tucker is now in Columbia,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +she went on to explain, "but will shortly +return."</p> + +<p>"We shall be pleased to see him whenever his +affairs permit him to leave the capital of our +State."</p> + +<p>"You will have room, then, for all of us?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; we have entertained as many as +twenty guests quite often. Not recently; but we +still can accommodate that number without inconvenience +or crowding."</p> + +<p>Miss Judith was spokesman now, while Miss +Arabella glided from the room. In a moment the +ungainly girl who had opened the door came in, +evidently in response to a signal from the mistress, +bearing a silver tray with a Bohemian glass +decanter and beautiful glasses with slender stems +and a plate of wafers that were so thin and delicate +one could easily have eaten a barrel of them +without feeling stuffed.</p> + +<p>"That will do, Dilsey," said Miss Judith, evidently +knowing better than to trust the handmaiden, +who certainly had the appearance of +what Mammy Susan called "a corn fiel' nigger,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +with the rare old Bohemian glass. Miss Judith +served us herself to apricot cordial, the most delicious +thing I ever tasted. "We brewed it ourselves +from a recipe that has been in our family +for centuries," she said, with the simplicity that +one might use in saying "like the pies mother +used to make."</p> + +<p>Still there was no talk of terms or question of +our viewing our rooms. Such things are not discussed +with guests. The guests are simply given +the best the house affords, and of course are too +well-bred to do anything but be pleased.</p> + +<p>"When may we come?" ventured Dum.</p> + +<p>"At any time that suits your convenience."</p> + +<p>"After luncheon today, then, will be a good +time," suggested Mrs. Green, and I thought the +two ladies breathed a small sigh of relief. Maybe +they thought the Philistines were already upon +them and come to stay.</p> + +<p>"We three girls can sleep in one room!" I exclaimed, +not having opened my mouth before except +to take in the cordial and wafers. My voice +sounded strange and harsh to me, somehow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We are under no necessity for crowding," +quietly from Miss Judith, who looked at me, I +thought, in disapproval. What business was it +of guests to dictate to the hostess what their +sleeping arrangements should be? I subsided.</p> + +<p>"You will have your boxes sent when it suits +you. I am sorry we have no one to send for +them." A boarding-house keeper to send for +your luggage! What next?</p> + +<p>There seemed no reason to linger longer since +the ladies made no move to show us the rooms +we were to occupy, and we all of us felt that to +mention money would be too brutal. Mrs. Green +rose to take leave, and all of us followed suit.</p> + +<p>"We will return at about four, if that is convenient."</p> + +<p>"We shall be pleased to see you at any time."</p> + +<p>We bowed, the ladies bowed, and the portraits +seemed to incline their painted heads a bit.</p> + +<p>Dilsey was standing in readiness to show us +out of the street door, and the sight of her grinning +human countenance did me good. She at +least was alive.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> + +<p>Once on the street, we looked at one another +knowingly, but the presence of Claire barred us +from saying anything. We walked the block to +her house, talking of the pleasure it would be to +be so near her, and expressing to her our appreciation +of the trouble she had taken to place us +with her friends.</p> + +<p>"Oh, we are too delighted to have you near," +she declared. "Louis and I can talk of nothing +else. Of course we are hoping to see a great deal +of you."</p> + +<p>We wondered if the pompous old father seconded +this, and how the young Gaillards would +get by with us. We were not, according to his +ideas, desirable acquaintances. At least we fancied +we would not be. Surely, however, Mrs. +Green could pass muster anywhere.</p> + +<p>"Louis wants to take you to see the old oak +in Magnolia Cemetery just as soon as you feel +like going."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we couldn't go to a cemetery without +Zebedee," declared Dee. "He loves them so!"</p> + +<p>"Well, how about the Magnolia Gardens this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +afternoon? He is eager to be your guide there +as well."</p> + +<p>"Is that where the azaleas are so beautiful?" +asked Dum.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and they are just right to see now. I +hear they were never more beautiful than now."</p> + +<p>"See them without Zebedee? Never!" Dee still +objected. "He adores flowers as much as he does +old tombstones."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Sullivan's Island, where Poe's +'Gold Bug' was written?" laughed Claire.</p> + +<p>"Go somewhere that is interesting on account +of Edgar Allan Poe without Zebedee! We could +never be so heartless. Why, he knows Poe by +heart."</p> + +<p>"Well, Dee, I don't see any place we could go +without Zebedee, according to you, unless it is +back at school or to a dry goods shop."</p> + +<p>"Well, Virginia Tucker, we could go see some +pictures or something close by that he can run in +on any time."</p> + +<p>"Certainly you could! There's the wonderful +collection of paintings at the City Hall," suggested<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +Claire courteously, wondering a little, no +doubt, at Dee's persistency in waiting for her +father for all sight-seeing, and at her evident impatience +with Dum. When the twins called each +other Virginia and Caroline, it was, as a rule, +something quite serious. So we settled on the +City Hall as entertainment for the afternoon before +our installment in our new quarters.</p> + +<p>"Dum, I didn't mean to be grouchy," said the +repentant Dee, as soon as we got out of sight of +Claire. "I was trying to head off a trip where +carfare would be necessary. You know Louis +never has any money of his own, and he would +be wanting to pay for all of us, and I know +would be cut to the quick if we didn't let him. +You see, Zebedee is so bumptious he just naturally +steps up and pays the fare before anybody else +has time even to dig down in their jeans."</p> + +<p>"My husband might have held his own with +Louis," suggested Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know; I thought of that, but then I did +not know whether he would go or not. I think +your husband is just lovely. I didn't mean he'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +be the kind to hang back." Dee spoke so ingenuously +and sincerely that the young wife had to +forgive any fancied slight to her Edwin.</p> + +<p>It turned out, however, that Professor Green +was still writing letters, and had decided to spend +the afternoon finishing them up, so he would not +have been able to hold his own digging in his +jeans. It was like Dee to think of that matter of +carfare. She had so much sympathy for the +poor and miserable of creation that she seemed +to be able to put herself in their places as it were. +I fancy there is no more miserable person on +earth than a youth who aspires to be squire of +dames and has no money to pay the fare.</p> + +<p>Professor Green was writing in the palmetto-shaded +court of the hotel, and had seen us from +there as we came up the street. He begged us +to join him and tell him what success we had +met with the Misses Laurens.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Edwin, it was lovely! You never saw +such a beautiful old house and furniture. The +garden is a dream, has a sun-dial and stone +benches and statues!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The portraits are splendid, and there was a +Wedgewood pitcher on the mantelpiece that I +wouldn't trust Zebedee alone with if I were those +ladies," exclaimed Dum.</p> + +<p>"They had a lovely cat, too; so clean and soft, +and he came to me in the friendliest way," from +Dee.</p> + +<p>"They gave us apricot cordial in Bohemian +glass tumblers, and wafers you could see +through," I put in.</p> + +<p>"Well, all this sounds fine. How about the +bedrooms? Were they attractive, too?"</p> + +<p>"Bedrooms! We didn't see them."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then you expect to sleep on the stone +benches, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"I wanted to ask to see them, but the ladies +were so funny and stiff and seemed to want us to +pretend to be guests, so that naturally we just +pretended."</p> + +<p>"I see. You came to terms with them, however, +of course."</p> + +<p>"Terms! You mean money terms? Why, +Edwin, we could no more mention money in their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +presence than we could rope in a house where +the father has been hanged."</p> + +<p>Professor Green went off into a fit of laughter +that made me think that after all maybe he was +younger than Zebedee. He kissed his wife twice +right before us and in plain view of the passersby +on Meeting Street, but he couldn't help it. +She was so adorably girlish in her reasons for +engaging board from Charleston aristocrats without +even seeing the bedrooms, and with absolutely +no idea of what remuneration those unbending +dames would expect.</p> + +<p>"I did say that Tweedles and I could sleep +three in a room, and I wish you could have seen +the way they jumped at me. It was Miss Judith. +'We are under no necessity for crowding,'" I +mimicked her. "I did not like to insist, but of +course I meant it might make our board a little +cheaper. If you had been there, you would have +knuckled under just like the rest of us."</p> + +<p>"Do you think it would be wise to go without +knowing? I don't want to seem mercenary with +all of you high-minded ladies, but I do think<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +there would be a certain satisfaction in knowing +just what one was paying for sun-dials and wafers +that can be seen through."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you can do the asking! I can't. +Was there ever a moment when we could broach +the subject, girls?"</p> + +<p>"Never!" we chorused loyally.</p> + +<p>"We will just go 'buying a pig in a poke,' as it +were, and maybe after a night on the garden +bench I can muster up courage to ask them what +I owe them for the privilege," teased the professor.</p> + +<p>"I don't like betting on a certainty, but I don't +believe you will be able to do it, and am willing +to wager almost anything that you can't get +yourself to the point any more than we could. +You might ask Miss Arabella, but if you tackle +Miss Judith and she looks at you as she did at +me when I suggested three in a room, I bet you +father's copy of Timrod's poetry that you change +the subject."</p> + +<p>"Done! I bet you the volume of J. Gordon +Coogler's 'Purely Original Verse' that I am living<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +at the Maison Laurens on a purely business +basis within the next seven hours. I am going to +settle it before tonight."</p> + +<p>"Will it be Miss Judith?" I asked, fearing Miss +Arabella might be the cause of my losing the +Timrod poetry, which I was anxious to write +father I had found for him at the second-hand +book store.</p> + +<p>"Miss Judith and no other! I should feel very +sneaky if I got my information through the +easier channel of Miss Arabella. Miss Judith, +and by seven o'clock."</p> + +<p>"I hope we will know before Zebedee comes +back," said Dee. "We shall never hear the last +of it if he finds us boarding for untold sums."</p> + +<p>"I shall feel myself a failure as a chaperone +surely," remarked Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"We think you a tremendous success," tweedled +the twins.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE CLERK OF THE COUNCIL</div> + + +<p>We had a wonderful time at the City Hall that +afternoon with Louis. It was quite near our +hotel, so Dee's agony over Louis' feelings about +carfare was assuaged.</p> + +<p>My idea of a City Hall had always been that +it was a very ugly and stiff place where City +Fathers wrangled about sewerage and garbage +collections, and whether they should or should +not open up such and such a street or close such +and such an alley,—a place where taxes were +paid or evaded, and where one kicked about the +size of the gas bill.</p> + +<p>The Charleston City Hall was quite different. +There may have been places where discontented +persons contended about gas and taxes, but we +did not see them. We were told that Charleston +had but recently gone through what was a +real riot on the subject of the election of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +Mayor, but there was a dignity and peace breathing +from the very stones of that old edifice that +made us doubt the possibility of dissension having +been within its walls.</p> + +<p>City Fathers could not have mentioned such a +thing as sewerage and garbage in the presence +of those wonderful and august portraits and +busts. As for opening streets that never had +been opened before! Why do it? And alleys +that had always been closed! Let well enough +alone.</p> + +<p>Louis Gaillard was quite a friend of the Clerk +of the Council, a very scholarly and interesting +young man with a French name, who was kindness +itself in showing us the treasures of the City +Hall. He knew and loved every one of them, and +Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, could not +have been more eloquent in praise of her jewels. +He might well be proud of them, as I doubt there +being a more complete collection of things of +civic and historical interest in any City Hall in +all the world, certainly not in America.</p> + +<p>In the Mayor's office there hung a peculiarly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +interesting fragment of a painting by Sir Godfrey +Kneller. It was Queen Anne's hand resting +on a crown. The rest of the picture had been +cut away by some vandal after the wonderful +painting had gone through various vicissitudes +during the Revolutionary War. Queen Anne was +always a dead, dull person to my mind, and the +only thing that ever interested me about her was +the fact that she did have a crown, and perhaps +if the picture was to be destroyed the crown was +about the most interesting part to preserve.</p> + +<p>I don't want to sound like a guide-book, and I +am afraid I might if I tell of all the treasures +in that Council Chamber. I must mention Trumbull's +portrait of Washington, however. It is +very wonderful. The great general stands in +Continental uniform by his white charger, every +inch a soldier.</p> + +<p>"It does not look exactly like the Gilbert Stuart +portraits," said Dum.</p> + +<p>"No," explained the young man ingenuously, +"Stuart painted Washington after he had false +teeth, and that changed his appearance a great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +deal. This picture is valued at $100,000, but of +course no money could induce the City of +Charleston to part with it."</p> + +<p>Then there was Healy's portrait of John C. +Calhoun, a wonderful painting. Dum and Mrs. +Green thought that from an artistic standpoint it +was of more value than the Trumbull portrait +of Washington. I am frankly ignorant of what +is best in pictures, but I am trying to learn. I +certainly liked the Healy portrait very much, +though. The hands were wonderful, and Dum +said that was a true test of painting; that if an +artist was not a top-notcher he could not draw +hands, and usually made the model sit on them or +put them in his pocket, or if it happened to be +a woman, covered them up with drapery. The +Clerk of the Council seemed very much amused +by Dum's remarks and delighted with her interest, +and we noticed he addressed most of his explanations +to her while we trailed along in their +wake.</p> + +<p>There was a portrait of Francis Marion which +rather amused us, as he is dressed in uniform<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +with a brigadier general's hat. Now we all knew +that Marion never wore anything more tony than +a coon skin cap, and he looked as funny as Daniel +Boone would painted in a Tuxedo with an opera +hat.</p> + +<p>Portraits of President Monroe, Andrew Jackson, +Zachary Taylor, General Moultrie, Beauregard, +Wade Hampton, and five mayors who held +the civic reins of Charleston in troublous times +adorn the walls. There were many other Charlestonians +of note whom their city had delighted to +honor, but I am afraid of getting too guide-booky +if I dwell on them.</p> + +<p>The cablegram Queen Victoria sent at the time +of the earthquake, expressing her sympathy for +the sufferers has been carefully preserved. It is +the original autograph copy, which, together with +the letters from Mayor Courtney, Secretary of +State Bayard, and E. J. Phelps, United States +Minister to the Court of St. James, which were +written in regard to obtaining the original message, +are embodied in a book and handsomely +bound. The message reads:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"To the President of the United States: I +desire to express profound sympathy with the +sufferers by the late earthquake, and await with +anxiety further intelligence which, I hope, may +show the effects to have been less disastrous than +expected.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +(Signed) "<span class="smcap">Victoria, Regina.</span>"<br /> +</div></div> + +<p>We took leave of the very agreeable Clerk of +the Council regretfully. He had been so pleasant, +and was so interesting that we hoped we +might see him again.</p> + +<p>"It seems a sin," sighed Dum, "to meet such +a nice man as that and never to see him again."</p> + +<p>"I always feel that I am going to meet persons +like again," said Mrs. Green; "if not here, in +the hereafter. Kindred souls must manage to +get together or 'What's a heaven for?'"</p> + +<p>"That's the way I like to think of heaven, a +place where you find the persons you naturally +like, not a place where you just naturally like all +the persons you meet. I don't see why just because +you are good enough to go to heaven you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +should lose all your discrimination. I could go +to heaven a million years and not like Mabel +Binks. Cat!" and Dum scowled.</p> + +<p>"Who is Mabel Binks?" laughed Mrs. Green.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's a person Dee and I can't abide. +Page hates her, too, only she won't say so. She +was at Gresham with us the first year we were +there, and she started in making a dead set at +Zebedee and has kept it up ever since."</p> + +<p>"Is she pretty?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's handsome enough in a kind of +oochy-koochy style, but she is too florid to suit +me. There's a letter from her to Zebedee now. +She's always writing to him and trying to get +him into something or other."</p> + +<p>"How do you know it's from her?" I asked.</p> + +<p>I was not very joyful myself when our one-time +schoolmate made too free with Mr. Tucker. +I didn't really and truly think he cared a snap +for her, but I well knew how persistent effort on +the part of a designing female could eventually +work wonders on the male heart.</p> + +<p>"How do I know? I'd like to know who but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +Mabel Binks writes on burnt orange paper, with +brown ink, with an envelope big enough to hold +all the documents in the City Hall, and that +smelling like a demonstration counter of cheap +perfumes. I'd hate to think Zebedee could put +up with two female admirers as gaudy as she is."</p> + +<p>Dum always stormed like that when Mabel +Binks was in question, or any woman under fifty +who happened to like her father. Dee was walking +with Louis or she, too, would have joined +in the tirade against their <i>bête noir</i>.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think you would feel the slightest +uneasiness about your father. I am sure you can +trust his good taste if he should ever marry," +and Mrs. Green drew Dum to her.</p> + +<p>I didn't know about that. I thought it was +quite possible for the wrong person to hoodwink +Zebedee into not knowing his taste from hers. I +had been brought up by Mammy Susan, who was +somewhat of a cynic in her way, and she used to +say:</p> + +<p>"Th' ain't no countin' on what kin' er wife a +widderman is goin' ter pick out. One thing you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +may be sho' of, a man nebber picks out two alike. +If the fus' one was tall an' thin the nex' one is +sho' ter be sho't an' fat. I tell yer, men is pow'ful +weak an' women is mighty 'suadin'."</p> + +<p>That phrase that Mammy Susan was so fond +of, "Men is weak an' women is 'suadin'," made +me tremble sometimes for what the father of the +twins might do. He had talked to me about marrying +again, and had given me to understand +many times that Mabel Binks was not his style, +but sometimes I used to think that maybe "he +doth protest too much."</p> + +<p>We were missing Zebedee greatly, and were +very glad when we got back to the hotel to learn +from a long distance message that he would be +with us the next morning.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>WHO WON THE BET?</div> + + +<p>We arrived at the Misses Laurens, bag and +baggage, at the appointed hour. Those ladies +greeted us with studied courtesy, but it was evident +from their manner that they looked upon +us as Yankee invaders. The fact that Tweedles +and I were from Virginia and Mrs. Green from +Kentucky, all of us with as good Confederate +records as one could wish, had no weight with +them. We were all clumped as Northerners in +their minds. But we were guests under their ancestral +roof and must be treated with punctilious +politeness.</p> + +<p>Tweedles and I were shown into two large +adjoining rooms, the Greens across the hall from +us, with a room beyond theirs for Mr. Tucker. +The beds were great four-posters that looked as +though there should be little stepladders furnished +to climb into them, like those the porter +brings you to scramble into an upper berth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just 'spose you should fall out of bed! +'Twould be sure death," declared Dee.</p> + +<p>"Look at this mahogany candle-stand! Did +you ever in all your life see anything quite so +lovely? And look, only look at this silver candlestick! +It looks like it had been looted from some +old Spanish church," and Dum reverently picked +up the heavy old silver to examine the quaint design +beaten around its base.</p> + +<p>"But this wardrobe! I'm sure there's a skeleton +in it hiding behind rustling old silks. It is big +enough to go to housekeeping in. I wonder if +Miss Arabella and Miss Judith ever played in it +when they were children."</p> + +<p>"Old Page, always romancing."</p> + +<p>"Well, if anyone is ever going to romance she +would do it here. It smells like romance even. +I know there are jars of dried rose leaves in +every room. I am sure there is lavender in the +sheets and I am positive there is a ghost around +somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Can you smell it, too? How does a ghost +smell? Not like a rat, I hope," teased Dee.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How are we going to sleep? If there is a +ghost flaunting his fragrance around, I hope I +shall not draw the lonesome singleton," said +Dum.</p> + +<p>"I'll take the room by myself," I said magnanimously, +the truth of the matter being that while +I approved of our custom of drawing straws +or tossing up for everything, I was afraid that +Dee might draw the lonesome singleton, and I +did not think that after the experience she had +so recently been through she should be put off by +herself. I did not want to say anything about +my reasons, but decided that I would simply install +myself in the far room.</p> + +<p>"Are you aware of the fact, girls, that there is +no gas in these rooms? These candlesticks are +not meant for ornaments, but to light us to our +couches. Shades of Bracken! I wonder if there +is any plumbing!" Like most persons born and +brought up without plumbing, I thought more of +it than daily bread. I had my own great English +bathtub at Bracken, but plumbingless houses +were not always equipped with individual tubs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I thought of asking Miss Arabella where the +bathroom was, but somehow it was as difficult as +asking her how much she charged for board, and +I could not muster courage," laughed Dee.</p> + +<p>"Where does that door go? If it is not locked, +we might explore a little."</p> + +<p>It yielded and proved to be the opening into +an old-fashioned dressing-room that had been +converted into a bathroom as an afterthought. +It was big enough for four ordinary bathrooms, +and had, besides the copper-lined bathtub, with +plumbing that must have been the first to be installed +in South Carolina, a wardrobe, bureau, +washstand and several chairs. Another door +opening into a narrow hall must have been meant +for the other occupants of the house.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness for the tub, even if it is reminiscent +of a <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'perserving'">preserving</ins>-kettle," I sighed. "I +had visions of our making out with bird dishes, +and had begun to regret that I had not taken +several more baths at the hotel, where the arrangements +were certainly perfect."</p> + +<p>"It's an awful pity a body can't save up cleanliness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +like she can save up dirt," said Dee. +"Wouldn't it be nice if we could take seven baths +in one day at a nice hotel and then come stay a +week in a delightful old house like this, delightful +in every way but tubs, and not have to wash +all that time?"</p> + +<p>"I knew a girl in Richmond who was one of +these once-a-weekers, and she was going abroad +for the summer and decided to get a Turkish +bath before sailing. Do you know she saved up +two weeks so as to get her money's worth? But +we had better get unpacked and into our dinner +dresses," and Dum began to pull things out of +her suitcase with her unpacking manner—not calculated +to improve the condition of clothes.</p> + +<p>We found Professor and Mrs. Green walking +in the garden.</p> + +<p>"Edwin is as pleased as we were, and has forgiven +us for not seeing the bedrooms, now that +he finds he shall not have to sleep on a stone +bench. We have a bed big enough for an old-fashioned +family of fifteen to sleep in. I hope +you girls are comfortably placed."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, beautifully!" we exclaimed in +chorus.</p> + +<p>"Only look at this old sun-dial, Molly! '<i>Tempus +Fugit</i>' carved around it! I don't believe Time +has flown here for many a year. I think he has +stood stock-still."</p> + +<p>The garden was wondrously sweet in the soft +evening light. Waxen white japonicas gleamed +through the shrubbery and lilacs, lavender, purple +and white were in a perfect tangle, meeting +overhead, almost concealing an overgrown walk +that led to a rustic summer house in the far corner. +Wherever there was nothing else, there +was honeysuckle. It seemed to be trying to over-run +the place, but periwinkle was holding its own +on the ground, asserting itself with its darker +green leaves, and snow balls and syringa bushes, +shaking off the honeysuckle that had tried to +smother and choke it, rose superior with their +masses of whiteness. Hyacinths, narcissi, lilies-of-the-valley, +snowdrops and violets filled the +beds to overflowing, a floral struggle for the survival +of the fittest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Won't Zebedee love it, though!" said Dee. +"It seems almost as peaceful as a graveyard. +Listen! Listen! A mocking-bird!"</p> + +<p>"We might have known a mocking-bird would +build here," whispered Mrs. Green. "There he +is on that oleander, and there's his mate still busy +with her household duties, carrying straw for her +nest. It must be hard to be a female bird and +not to be able to pour forth your soul in song, +no matter how bursting you are with the joy of +living. I always thought that it was unfair. No +doubt that little newlywed mocking-bird feels as +deeply as the male, but all she can do to show it +is just drag straw and hairs and build and build, +and then sit patiently on her eggs, and then teach +the little ones to fly after she has worn herself to +skin and bone grubbing worms for them. No +doubt if she should begin to sing she would +astonish her little husband to such an extent that +he would call her a suffragette, and tell her a lady +bird's place was in her nest and he could make +noise enough for two, thank you!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it certainly would be a pity for her to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +sing if she couldn't sing," objected Professor +Green. "I suppose long ages of thinking she +couldn't sing has put her where she can't. Perhaps +she can sing, and Mr. Cock Mocking-Bird +has told her she can't because he wants the floor, +or rather the swinging limb, himself."</p> + +<p>"Edwin is trying to get me into an argument +on feminism, but the evening is too perfect, and +the mere male bird is singing too wonderfully to +tempt me to bring discord into the garden."</p> + +<p>"Have you talked business yet with either of +the ladies, Professor Green? I am getting ready +to tell my Timrod good-by."</p> + +<p>"Well—er—not yet. I have not had an opportunity."</p> + +<p>"Why, Edwin, you have seen both of them several +times since we arrived."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the subject of our conversation was +such that it did not seem an appropriate time to +broach the matter of board."</p> + +<p>All of us laughed at our masculine contingent's +being as bad as we had been, and I felt more secure +than ever that father would get his Timrod<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +and I would own a volume of J. Gordon Coogler.</p> + +<p>Dilsey, the corn-field hand, almost fell down +the steps announcing supper. Of course we were +hungry, and even though the garden was so +lovely we were glad to go to supper. We hoped +its loveliness would keep, and we knew that food +could not be trusted to.</p> + +<p>The ladies of the house were dressed in stiff +grosgrain silk. Mrs. Green knew the name of +the kind of silk; we had never seen it before. She +said she had an Aunt Clay in Kentucky who wore +it on state occasions. They did not look nearly +so funereal, as they had bits of fine old lace in +necks and sleeves. Lace is a wonderful fabric +for lightening up sombreness. It can cheer up +dripping black.</p> + +<p>It seems that I was wrong about the Misses +Laurens having suffered recent bereavement. +They had the mourning habit. Claire Gaillard +had told us that they had had no deaths in the +family for at least ten years, but that they always +wore mourning, poor old things. When we met +them in the bus, the morning of our arrival, they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +were not coming from the funeral of a relative +who had not left them the legacy they had been +counting on, as I had made up about them; on +the contrary, they were coming from the wedding +of a young cousin in a neighboring town. So +the would-be author fell down that time in her +surmises. Surely persons who expect to figure +in plots of stories have no business looking as +though they were coming from funerals when +they have been to weddings. It is hard on real +authors to have to contend with such contrariness, +and simply impossible for would-bes.</p> + +<p>The dining-room was even lovelier than the +parlor. The walls were papered with a hunting +scene that had faded very little, considering it +must have been there half a century. It was a +peculiar paper that seemed to have been varnished, +no doubt thus preserving it.</p> + +<p>The sideboard was worth a king's ransom, +whatever that is. It was not the eternal Colonial +that is of course beautiful, but it has come to the +pass that Americans think there is no other style +worth considering. It was very old Florentine,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +as were also the chairs and table. The carving +on the sideboard could only be equalled by the +Cimabue gates, I am sure. The chairs were upholstered +in deep red Genoese velvet. It seems +a remote Huguenot ancestor had been United +States Consul in Florence and had brought home +with him this dining-room furniture. There were +no pictures in this room, as with paper of that +type pictures are out of place, but polychrome +sconces were hung at intervals, half a dozen in +all. The candles in them were not lighted, as +it was still daylight, and a great silver candelabrum +on the table gave what additional light was +needed.</p> + +<p>The table was set with the finest Sevres china, +cobweb mats and thin old teaspoons that looked +a little like the old ladies themselves. The forks, +however, were as big as two ordinary forks of the +day; so big in fact that one might have been forgiven +if, like Sam Weller, he "handled his wittles +with cold steel."</p> + +<p>Miss Judith looked flushed, and I was afraid +she had been cooking the supper herself, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +Miss Arabella had on a fresh thumb-stall that +suggested a possible burn on her thin, blue-veined +old hand. Supper consisted of fried chicken, hot +rolls, four kinds of preserves, the inevitable rice +that is served twice a day in South Carolina, as +though to encourage home industries, and gravy, +of course, to go on the rice, another thing that +is the rule in the best families, so I have been +told.</p> + +<p>It is very funny how different sections of the +country establish their aristocracy by the way +certain favorite dishes are served. I heard a +lady from Plymouth, Massachusetts, say once +that some of her townsmen were not really very +good people; they put too much molasses in their +baked beans. I am sure a South Carolinian +would consider any one po' white trash who liked +rice cooked mushy and not dry with every grain +standing out like a pearl. Certainly anywhere +in the South sugar in the cornbread would label +any family as not to the manor-born, while in the +North sugar in the cornbread is a regular thing, +born or not born.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> + +<p>Everything was delicious on that table, and +the hostesses quite warmed up into a pleasant +glow of hospitality. It is difficult to be stiff, +even if you have swallowed a heredity poker, +when gay, happy, hungry young people are at +your board, showing their appreciation of your +culinary skill by devouring everything handed to +them.</p> + +<p>Dilsey waited on table as though it had +been set on ploughed ground, every now and then +almost falling down in an imaginary furrow. +The Misses Laurens completely ignored her awkwardness, +although in all probability, being human, +they were in agony for fear she would shoot +the rolls across the room, or pour the coffee down +a guest's back or do something else equally +trying. Dilsey seemed delighted with her +prowess, and every time she safely landed some +article of food to the destination to which her +mistresses had sent it, she gave a pleased cluck. +She would come up to you and lean over your +shoulder in a really most engaging manner, and +say:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now do hab a lil' mo' 'sarves! Try dem +quinches dis time."</p> + +<p>She was especially lively with the "graby," and +handed it every time there was a lull in operations. +Professor Green refused it so often that +it really became embarrassing, but still the girl +persisted in her endeavors. "Jes' lil' graby on +yo' rice!" Finally Miss Arabella interfered to +prevent further persecution, and this is where +Professor Green "broke his 'lasses pitcher" with +the Misses Laurens.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you do not care for gravy," she suggested. +"Won't you have some butter on your +rice? The butter to Professor Green, Dilsey."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, no butter! I should like some +sugar and cream on my rice, however. I am very +fond of it that way."</p> + +<p>"Sugar and cream! On rice!" came in gasps +from both ladies.</p> + +<p>Oh, ye gods and little fishes! What had our +masculine contingent done? Flown in the face +of customs older than Time! Dilsey's awkward +waiting, taking boarders, nothing had upset the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +well-bred equanimity of these descendants of ancestors +like this awful alien fact. "Sugar on +rice! Cream on rice! The Yankees are upon +us! Hide the spoons!" That was the manner +they had when almost tearfully they instructed +Dilsey to pass the rice, pass the sugar and cream.</p> + +<p>The professor ate it with about as much relish +as Proserpine must have eaten the dried-up +pomegranate that Pluto obtained for her. He +knew he had done something terrible, but, man-like, +he did not know just exactly what it was. +He knew that rice and sugar and cream were +mixed up in it, but how? Had he realized as I +did that his request for a peculiar combination of +food had lost him the bet, perhaps it would have +choked him outright. It was a difficult feat to +accomplish at best, to tackle these old aristocrats +on the subject of remuneration, but now that he +had done such a terribly plebeian thing as to want +his rice mushy and sweet, there was no possible +way to get back in their good graces, certainly no +quick way of doing it. A reconstruction period +would have to be gone through with and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +after much burying of many hatchets perhaps +cordial relations could be re-established.</p> + +<p>Professor Green looked scared and rather boyish. +His Molly was bubbling over with suppressed +merriment, while Dum and I had to assume +a deep gloom to keep from exploding. Dee +came to the rescue, of course, with rhapsodies +over the garden, jumping from that to the pictures +in the City Hall and back to praise Claire +Gaillard, who was evidently a favorite of the old +ladies.</p> + +<p>The clock on the mantelpiece chimed seven and +St. Michael's bells verified its strike. I looked +up at Professor Green as he choked down the +last of the fatal rice.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you another hour," I whispered.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, but I believe another year would +not help me."</p> + +<p>I now own J. Gordon Coogler and father will +have his Timrod, which, after all, had never +really been in jeopardy.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>LETTERS</div> + + +<p>From Mrs. Edwin Green to Mrs. Kent Brown, +New York City.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><div class='right'> + +<span style="margin-right: 4em;"><span class="smcap">Meeting Street</span>,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Charleston, S. C.</span>,</span><br /> +April .., 19...<br /> +</div> + +<span class="smcap">My dearest Judy</span>: + +<p>No doubt you and Kent will be astonished to +find that Edwin and I are actually on the long +talked-of trip to this wonderful old city. Mother +is taking care of little Mildred in our absence, +and Dr. McLean is to be called if she sneezes or +coughs or does anything in the least out of the +way. She is such a blooming, rosy baby, and so +thoroughly normal that I am sure it is perfectly +safe to leave her. Mother says she is more like +Kent than any of her babies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p>Charleston is more delightful even than it +has been pictured. We only got here yesterday +morning, and already we love it as though we +belonged here. We went to a hotel for one night, +but by rare good chance have found board in one +of the real old Charleston homes.</p> + +<p>You will laugh when I tell you that after an +acquaintance of about twenty-four hours I find +myself the chaperone of three girls about seventeen +years old. I know you and Kent are grinning +and saying to each other: "Some more of +Molly's lame ducks!" but I can assure you they +are as far from being that as any girls you ever +saw. They are the Tucker twins, Dum and Dee, +otherwise known as Virginia and Caroline, and +their friend, Page Allison—all from Virginia. +They have come down here with Mr. Tucker, the +father of the twins, a newspaper man from Richmond, +but he has had to go to Columbia on his +paper's business and I volunteered to look after +the girls in his absence. He is a delightful man, +and he and Edwin are already Greening and +Tuckering each other, which means that they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +struck up quite a friendship. He is the most +absurdly young person to be the father of these +strapping twins. He looks younger than Edwin, +but I fancy he must be a little older. You know +Edwin's "high forehead" makes him look older +than he is.</p> + +<p>The Tucker twins are bright, handsome, generous, +original—everything you like to see in +young girls. Their mother died when they were +tiny babies and their young father has had the +raising of them. A pretty good job he has made +of it, too, although he declares he has done nothing +toward bringing them up but just remove +obstacles. They call their father Zebedee, because +of the old joke about "Who's the father of +Zebedee's children?" They say nobody ever believes +he is their father. Dum is most artistic, +wants to be a sculptor. She hopes to study in +New York next winter. Dee is as fond of lame +ducks as you used to say I was, and may make +a trained nurse of herself, or perhaps a veterinary +surgeon.</p> + +<p>Their friend, Page Allison, is a delightful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +girl. She is the daughter of a country doctor, +and has been the twins' room-mate at boarding +school. By the way, these girls had heard of you, +and me too, from Mattie Ball, who has been +teaching them English literature at Gresham. +(Mattie had been most complimentary to us both, +so they have an exalted idea of us.) Page is +lots of fun. She is in for anything that is going, +but at the same time acts as a kind of balance +wheel for the twins, who are a harum-scarum +pair. Page has a writing bee in her bonnet, +which of course appeals to me. You would have +been amused to see both of us whip out our notebooks +to take down things that we did not want +to forget. Mr. Tucker is evidently very much +interested in this little girl, more interested than +he knows himself, and she is perfectly unconscious +of his feeling in any way differently from +the way he feels for his own daughters. I +may be mistaken, however. I know when one is +so happily married as I am it is a great temptation +to be constantly match-making.</p> + +<p>I fancy you and Kent are wondering why I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +should go to as interesting a place as Charleston +and then find nothing to write about but three +schoolgirls. Charleston is thrilling indeed, but +you know I always did think more of people than +things. We are seeing the sights very thoroughly—have +deciphered every inscription on the +old tombstones in three cemeteries, and are going +tomorrow to Magnolia Cemetery. They say +there is the most wonderful old live oak tree +there in the world.</p> + +<p>Now that we are settled in a boarding-house, +kept by two old befo'-the-war ladies, we may stay +here quite a little while. Edwin needs this rest +that the Easter recess fortunately offered him.</p> + +<p>I wish I could picture these old ladies to you, +but they are too wonderful to try to describe. +Whistler's mother does not belong in the frame +in which her artist son placed her any more than +these ladies belong in this old house. They hate +boarders. You can see it in spite of their punctilious +manners and old-world courtesy. I believe +we are the first they have had, and if they only +knew how much nicer we are than most boarders,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +I fancy they would not hate us quite so much. +Mother always says that being a boarder changes +one's whole nature—the gentlest and most generous +becoming stern and exacting. At any rate, +Edwin and I have not been boarders long enough +to become very hateful, and these three girls +could board forever and never become professionals +in that line.</p> + +<p>Please write to me soon. I am so glad Kent's +firm won the competition for that great hotel. +Tell him it is too bad I can't be there to tell him +where the closets ought to be and which way +the doors should open. He and I never agree on +these points, you remember. It is splendid that +you keep up your painting. I have no patience +with these persons who insist that a career and +matrimony cannot go hand in hand. Of course +my little Mildred is very engrossing, but I do not +intend to let her take every moment of the day +and night. I find if I am going to write, however, +that I cannot sew, but you know sewing +was never one of my strong points. Giving it up +is like Huck Finn's giving up stealing green persimmons.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +If occasionally, and only occasionally, +I can persuade a magazine to see how worth +printing one of my stories is, and I can make an +honest penny that way, it is surely no extravagance +to get someone to make Mildred's little +clothes and to buy mine ready-made.</p> + +<p>But Edwin is rearing and champing for me to +go walking with him, and I must also look up +these dear girls I am chaperoning, so good-by, +my dear sister-in-law. My best love to "that 'ere +Kent," as Aunt Mary used to call him. Poor old +Aunt Mary! How we shall miss her!</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 4em;">Yours with all the love in the world,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Molly Brown Green</span>.<br /> +</div></div> + + +<p>To Dr. James Allison, Milton, Va., from Page +Allison.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><div class='right'> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;"><span class="smcap">Meeting Street</span>,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Charleston, S. C.</span><br /> +</div> + +<span class="smcap">My dearest Father</span>: + +<p>I can't get over how good it was in you to let +me go tripping with the Tuckers. It has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +a wonderful experience, and we are having the +most gorgeous time. Already, of course, we +have plunged into adventures, as is always the +case if you train with the Tucker twins. I am +not going to tell you of these adventures until +I come back to Bracken; they are too thrilling +for mere pen and ink.</p> + +<p>As you see by the above address, we have left +the hotel and are now installed in a boarding-house +on Meeting Street. It seems absurd to call +such a place a boarding-house—indeed, a sacrilege. +It has just become a boarding-house in the +last twelve hours, as I am sure we are the first +"paying guests" the poor Misses Laurens have +ever had.</p> + +<p>We are being chaperoned by a perfectly +lovely young woman, a Mrs. Edwin Green. She +and her husband were at the hotel and we +scraped up an acquaintance with them, and as +Mr. Tucker had to go over to Columbia on business +she offered to look after us while he was +away. Tweedles and I have not been chaperoned +before to any great extent, as Miss Cox was our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +one experience, and we think chaperones are +pretty nice, lots nicer than we had been led to +expect. Certainly no one could be more charming +than Miss Cox, unless it were this lovely +Mrs. Green. In the first place, she is so sympathetic, +then she is so kind, then she is so pretty, +then she is so intelligent and so extremely well-bred,—on +top of it all she has married one of the +nicest men I ever saw; he really is almost as nice +as Mr. Tucker and you. (I should have said you +and Mr. Tucker, but you were an afterthought, +as you well know!)</p> + +<p>Afterthought or not, I do wish you were here, +my dearest father. You would delight in the +quaintness of this old city. I am getting all the +postal cards I can find, which I will not send you, +but will bring you, and make you sit down and +listen to me while I tell you all about it. I am +also going to bring you a volume of Henry Timrod's +poetry, which you must duly appreciate, as +it was difficult to find it. It seems that although +the South Carolinians are very proud of him, +none of them have seen fit to get out a new edition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +of his poetry, and the old editions are very +expensive. This I was told by the very pleasant +man who has opened a second-hand book shop +here.</p> + +<p>I found a book there I was crazy to get for +you, but as it was a first edition, and that a limited +one, I could not afford it. By an amusing +chance it has since become my property. I will +tell you about that some day. It is entitled +"Purely Original Verse," by J. Gordon Coogler. +He, too, was a South Carolinian, and such ridiculous +stuff you have never imagined. The kind +man who owned the shop let me copy a few of +the poems before I dreamed of possessing the +book. What do you think of these?</p> + + +<div class='center'><span class="smcap">A Couplet</span></div> + +<div class='poem'> +Alas for the South, her books have grown fewer—<br /> +She was never much given to literature.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><span class="smcap">Byron</span></div> + +<div class='poem'> +Oh! thou immortal bard!<br /> +Men may condemn the song<br /> +That issued from thy heart sublime,<br /> +Yet alas! its music sweet<br /> +Has left an echo that will sound<br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>Thro' the lone corridors of time.<br /> +<br /> +Thou immortal Byron!<br /> +Thy inspired genius<br /> +Let no man attempt to smother—<br /> +May all that was good within thee<br /> +Be attributed to Heaven,<br /> +All that was evil—to thy mother.<br /> +</div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><span class="smcap">A Pretty Girl</span></div> + +<div class='poem'> +On her beautiful face there are smiles of grace<br /> +That linger in beauty serene,<br /> +And there are no pimples encircling her dimples<br /> +As ever, as yet, I have seen.<br /> +</div> + +<p>But, father dear, do not be too hard on this +bard, or you will come under this ban:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Oh, jealous heart that seeks to belittle my gentle muse,<br /> +And blow your damnable bugle in my lonely ears;<br /> +You'll lie some day in expressing your recognition<br /> +Of this very song you disowned in other years.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Surely you must have sympathy for the person +who could write the following stanza, especially +when your only child goes tripping with the Tuckers +when she ought to be down in the country +with her old father:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +I feel like some lone deserted lad,<br /> +Standing on the shore of life's great ocean,<br /> +Casting pebbles in its billows, as if to excite<br /> +Some past emotion.<br /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span></p> + +<p>Please give Mammy Susan my dearest love. I +wish she could see the flower gardens down here. +They are very wonderful. Every house almost +has porch-boxes, and no place is too poor or mean +to have some bright flowers around it. We went +through some real slummy parts yesterday where +no one but darkies lived; beautiful old foreign-looking +houses that have belonged in days gone +by to the wealthy. I don't believe a single window +was without flowers. They were growing +in tomato cans and old broken jars and pots, but +flowers don't mind what they are in just so the +people who plant them love them and know how +to attend to them. They seemed to me to be making +a braver show than they do when they boast +brass jardinières.</p> + +<p>I can't help thinking what Cousin Park Garnett +would say if she knew that Mr. Tucker had +left us alone in Charleston with a perfectly +strange lady to chaperone us. I reckon she would +throw about a million aristocratic fits.</p> + +<p>I don't know how long we will be here. It +will depend on Mr. Tucker. I think he needs a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +rest. He seems to me to be not quite himself. I +have noticed that he is in a way irascible. That, +you know, is not like him, as there never was +but one better tempered man in all the world. +You see, you were not an afterthought this +time, but came first.</p> + +<p>I must stop now without telling you about the +dear ladies where we are boarding. They are +like rare editions of old forgotten poetry, or odd +pieces of china no one has used for generations +but has kept in a cabinet until one has forgotten +whether they are meant for tea or coffee. They +are very dignified with us, but I have a notion +that the Tucker twins will be able to limber 'em +up by hook or crook. I saw the younger one almost +smile when Dee took her cat in her arms.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">Your devoted daughter,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Page</span>.<br /> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>MISS ARABELLA</div> + + +<p>No ghosts came to disturb my slumbers in the +great four-poster, but the early morning sun +awoke me long before Tweedles gave any indication +of coming to life. I thought for a while +I was at Bracken. It must have been the lavender +in the sheets and the mocking-bird, who was +singing like Caruso just outside of my window. +An odor will carry more suggestion than any +sight; and sound comes next, I believe. I lay +there wondering how long it would be before +Mammy Susan would come bringing my bath-water, +devoutly praying she would not "het" it +up, but let me have it stinging cold from the +well.</p> + +<p>The realization that I was in Charleston came +over me gradually; also, that no one would bring +me bath-water, and that if I wanted first to go in +the preserving-kettle I had better get up and take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +it. I had to go through the twins' room to get +to the bathroom, and I found them sleeping like +infants, looking ridiculously alike with their eyes +shut and their chins snuggled down in the bed +clothes. The squareness of Dum's chin and the +dimple in Dee's was more of a differentiation +in their case than even the eyes. Dum's were +hazel while Dee's were gray, but the shape and +setting were similar, if not identical. I stood a +moment gazing at them, and it came over me +with an added realization what their friendship +had meant to me; theirs and their father's. I +had known them according to the calendar only +twenty months, not quite two years, but counting +time by "heart throbs," I had known them since +the beginning of time. God grant nothing should +ever come between us!</p> + +<p>Mr. Tucker had certainly been a little snappy +with me before he went to Columbia, but I was +never the kind to go around with a chip on my +shoulder hunting for trouble, so if it was an accident +I was perfectly willing to let it go at that. +The truth of the matter was, that the Tuckers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +had one and all spoiled me. They were so lovely +to me on all occasions that a slight let-up on the +part of any one of them was more noticeable because +of their usual kindness. He was to come +back that day, and I was very glad, as indeed all +of us were, although we were expecting a good +teasing for having so bravely undertaken the +business of getting board and then moving in +without any business arrangement.</p> + +<p>The copper tub was not so bad, after all, and +the Charleston water is always a delight to bathe +in. It is strangely soft, as though it had just +fallen from a summer cloud, and it has a peculiar +sweetish taste. I dressed in a great hurry and +soon found myself in the garden. The sun that +had made his way into my window had not yet +reached the garden, because of the high wall.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"One morning, very early, before the sun was up,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>That was what I thought as I stepped out into +that wonderful old garden. There was a misty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +haze of early morning, and the freshness of the +new-born day that few persons know of. Early +rising is a habit that it is a pity ever to lose, and +still it is something that the civilized world seems +to fight against. Children naturally wake early, +but as one grows older the sunrise is such a rarity +that many grown-ups cannot remember ever +having seen this wonderful spectacle which takes +place every morning.</p> + +<p>Father says that one of the signs of advancing +years is waking quite early in the morning and +not being able to go back to sleep. When he is +called in to doctor old persons, who complain of +waking early, he always tells them not to try to +go back to sleep, but to get up and go out in the +morning and see how glorious Creation is. Nature +may be asserting herself in these old persons +so they can get back some of the spirit of childhood +before they are called to the Great Beyond. +He always tells them to eat something, however, +before they go to commune with Nature.</p> + +<p>The mocking-bird was not holding the fort +alone that morning, as he had the evening before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +His little wife was still carrying building materials +for their home, and he was helping, but +every now and then he left off work, although he +had heard no whistle blow to tell him it was time +to stop. Then such a stream of melody as he +would pour forth would put Caruso to the blush. +Other birds were in the garden, and all of them +very busy. A tiny song sparrow had something +to say with remarkable volume considering his +size, and Mr. Mocking-Bird listened intently, determined +to learn the new song. A thrush broke +in and then a stylish robin. I thought I heard +the notes of a bobolink, but it turned out to be +the mocking-bird, who seemed intent on singing +down all the others. It reminded me rather of +the sextette from "Lucia de Lammermoor" when +the artists all seem to be trying to outdo each +other and still harmony is the result.</p> + +<p>I had brought down all the combings from our +three heads, well knowing how the birds delight +in hair as a building material. Of course Mammy +Susan had done her best all my life to keep me +from letting birds get any of my hair for nests,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +as it is supposed to be the very worst luck that +can befall one, and terrible headaches are sure to +be the lot of a person whose hair helps make a +nest. Nevertheless, I had always sneaked my +hair to the birds at Bracken, and this morning, +feeling sure that I was the only person astir, I +had quite openly brought a wad of hair, Dum's +burnished black, Dee's blue black, and my curly +brown, all mingled together. I put some on a +lilac bush and some on the path where I noticed +the builders had found some straw and would +no doubt soon spy the more desirable material.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had some of Molly Brown's," I said +to myself. We had got in the habit of speaking +of Mrs. Green as Molly Brown, and no doubt +would soon begin to call her Molly to her face. +"Hers would make the dear birds feel that they +were weaving sunshine into their nests. I'm going +to ask her for some."</p> + +<p>I made my way very slowly and quietly, so as +not to disturb the busy homemakers, along the +overgrown path to the summer house.</p> + +<p>I was mistaken in thinking I was the only human<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +being astir in that enchanted garden. As I +lifted a great branch of snowballs that, heavy +with its own beauty, had fallen across the path, +I saw that Miss Arabella was before me. She +was seated in the summer house. The great gray +cat was on the ground in front of her, looking +up into her face with a sly expression in his +round, yellow eyes.</p> + +<p>"Now, Grimalkin, I give you fair warning. +If you dare so much as look at one of these birds +I will shut you up in the house for the rest of the +day! You hear me, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Me-i-ou——!" and he tried to slink off, deceit +in every curve of his handsome body.</p> + +<p>"No, you don't, sir!" and with astonishing +agility for an old lady who had swallowed a +hereditary poker, she swooped forward and +caught the cat up into her lap. How different +this was from the Miss Arabella of the evening +before! Her soft gray hair, with a glint of gold +in it, was all loosened about her face. There was +a little flush on her cheeks, and instead of the +sombre black dress she now wore a loose lavender<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +wrapper. If it had been possible to back out +and get up the garden path without being seen, +I would have done it. I felt like Peeping Tom +and Lady Godiva. Somehow this was Miss +Arabella's naked soul I had come on, and I was +afraid she would be terribly cut up. There was +nothing for me, however, but to speak. I made +a little scratching on the path with my toe and +shook the snowball branch. She looked up, startled, +and loosened her hold on Grimalkin, who +immediately took advantage of her and sprang +from her lap. This was no time for dignity! +The cat at liberty in the garden meant havoc for +the nesting birds.</p> + +<p>"I'll catch him!" I cried, and then such a chase +ensued! Grimalkin thought all the world moved +as slowly as the dear ladies who had raised him, +and at first scorned me as a pursuer, but I soon +gave him to understand that a country girl with +gym training added to her natural agility is a +match for a fat old tomcat. I cornered him just +as he started up the high wall, and, catching him +by the back of his neck, in the proper place for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +cat to be held, I carried him back to his smiling +mistress, who, all unmindful of his unsheathed +claws, caught him to her bosom, where he soon +dropped asleep, purring away as though that was +where he meant to go all the time.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind! I am exceedingly grateful +to you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not at all! It was my fault the cat got +away. I thought I was all alone in the garden +and did not mean to come on you this way. I +fancied the birds and I were the only creatures +awake."</p> + +<p>"I always come down in the garden very early +in the morning. I can't trust Grimalkin alone out +here while the birds are nesting. After they +have hatched and the little ones can fly they can +escape from him, he is so fat, but I am always +afraid he will drive the mocking-birds away. I +can't sleep in the early morning, anyhow. Do +you usually arise so early?"</p> + +<p>"Not always, but I am a country girl, and +country people always get up earlier than city +people. My friends, the Tuckers, have to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +dragged out of bed unless there is some especial +reason for getting up, and then they are energetic +enough. I did not disturb them this morning +as they were sleeping so peacefully."</p> + +<p>Miss Arabella had made a place for me on the +stone bench, and was still smiling at me in a very +encouraging way. Perhaps she was as eager to +find out things about me as I was about her.</p> + +<p>"My sister was sleeping, too, at least she +seemed to be trying to. Both of us, as a rule, +awaken very early, but she lies still trying to get +back to sleep, while I feel that it is best to get +up and take advantage of the beautiful morning +light. You must excuse my being <i>en déshabillé</i>. +I did not expect to be seen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think you look lovely!"</p> + +<p>She didn't mind a bit, but blushed and patted +my hand.</p> + +<p>"I am very fond of young girls, but never see +any nowadays but Claire Gaillard. She is the +only one who comes to our sad old house."</p> + +<p>"Sad! Not sad, it is too beautiful to be sad."</p> + +<p>"It is its very beauty that seems sad to me,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +she sighed. "And the garden! I feel like a traitor +to let it get so unkempt. I am not strong +enough to keep it weeded. All I have strength +to do now is to keep Grimalkin from devouring +the birds. Judith thinks I am very foolish. She +lays more stress on having the furniture rubbed +and keeping up the inside of the house, but to +me the garden and birds are more important. +I'd like to see the garden looking as it used to, +with trim flower beds and the dead wood all cut +away."</p> + +<p>Miss Arabella seemed to forget I was there, +or to forget I was a stranger, perhaps. I am sure +she had no intention of unburdening her soul to +me. She closed her eyes and I knew she was +picturing the garden as it had been years ago, +and perhaps she was even seeing the lover of the +past as he looked when she kissed him through +the gate. A thought wave seemed to have gone +from me to her. I no sooner put my mind on the +iron gates that I felt sure must have been where +the ugly board ones were now, ere she began +talking of those very gates. The sun had reached<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +the garden now, and was lifting the soft mist that +hung over it like a tulle veil. I felt somehow that +the veil of the past was being lifted, too, and +Miss Arabella was letting me catch a glimpse of +her true self.</p> + +<p>"I hate that ugly gate," she mused. "I miss +the beautiful old grille that had been there for +so many years—where our friends and ancestors +had come and gone so often."</p> + +<p>"I was sure there must have been an iron gate +there."</p> + +<p>"Yes, my dear, one of the most beautiful in +Charleston. We had to let something go. I +thought the Stuart portrait of General Laurens +would be the best, but Judith felt that the gates +would be the thing to give up. She rather likes +having the board ones that no one can see +through. I hate them, as I like to look out on +the street sometimes. The gates were very valuable, +being wrought-iron of a most delicate and +intricate pattern. There was hardly a spot +where one could so much as get a hand through." +I gasped here and had a vision of Miss Arabella,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +young and beautiful, trying to get her hand +through and ending by finding a place where her +rosy lips with some pouting could reach her lover, +locked out no doubt by a stern parent. "I don't +know why I should speak of these things to you, +child. It would provoke sister Judith very much +if she knew——"</p> + +<p>"But she won't know," and I took the frail old +hand in mine. "I long to hear about the gates +and the garden as it used to be. It is so lovely +now that I can well picture what it must have +been. Please go right on and tell me everything +about it, and let me be your friend, as well as +Claire."</p> + +<p>And the old lady, with her eyes all soft, sat +on the stone bench in that early morning, the +purring Grimalkin clasped with one hand and the +other holding mine, and told many wonderful +tales of olden times. It was an hour never to be +forgotten by me. The birds hopped close to us, +some in search of the early worm and some intent +on building material, stopping every now +and then to pour forth the joy of living in song.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +They seemed to trust the lady of the garden to +keep the enemy from them.</p> + +<p>I hoped the stern Miss Judith was sleeping +peacefully, and would not come stalking into our +dreams like a great Grimalkin herself. Miss +Arabella was enjoying herself immensely. She +lived in the past, and her mind was like some old +chest filled with faded souvenirs of a happier +time. She had opened this wonder-box for me +and was having the time of her life taking out +treasure after treasure, shaking out the folds of +some rare silken memory, or unwrapping some +quaintly set jewel of experience. I listened entranced, +only occasionally dropping a word to +show my interest or pressing the little hand, so +thin now that perhaps it might have slipped +through the grille.</p> + +<p>Dilsey, opening the shutters of the dining-room, +brought us back to the present. The +household was astir! Miss Judith must be up +and doing by now. The sun had found the garden +out with his searching rays, and the last bit +of mist had disappeared.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My goodness! It must be getting quite late!" +exclaimed my old new friend. "I am afraid you +are sadly bored with my tales," she added penitently.</p> + +<p>"Bored! Why, Miss Arabella, it has been +lovely. I do thank you for talking to me and +please do it some more."</p> + +<p>"Well, another morning then, child! I must +hurry in now and dress myself and be a sad old +woman some more. I thank you for making me +forget it for once,—being a sad old woman, I +mean."</p> + +<p>She certainly did not look like a sad old woman +as she tripped down the path to the house, +her lavender draperies brushing the syringa and +lilacs as she passed. She seemed to me more to +be the spirit of eternal youth and spring. Miss +Arabella might swathe herself in black again and +remember to respond to the hereditary poker, but +I had glimpsed the real Miss Arabella and knew +now that the sad old woman was merely the body +in which a radiant spirit dwelt. It was this +spirit that we had heard singing that night in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +the garden, "Speak not, ah, breathe not—there's +peace on the deep."</p> + +<p>Tweedles were opening their eyes when I came +in, and, uncovering their chins, so they did not +look so much alike.</p> + +<p>"Dressed already, Page?" yawned Dum.</p> + +<p>"Yes, dressed and out in the garden for hours! +I took down all the combings for the birds and +they are crazy about them. Can't you hear their +hymn of thanksgiving?"</p> + +<p>"Pig! Why didn't you call me?" and Dee +rolled out of bed to beat Dum to the copper-kettle-like +bathtub.</p> + +<p>"I hate to wake you up when I have to, and +goodness knows I am not going to do any gratuitous +waking," I laughed. "Girls! I have had +the time of my life, and have got to know Miss +Arabella real well. She is simply a darling!" +and I rummaged for my notebook.</p> + +<p>I was afraid to put off for a moment jotting +down in my little book some of the impressions of +the morning. If <ins title="Transcriber's Note: this word not present in original">I</ins> should forget anything Miss +Arabella had told me I would never forgive myself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +I wrote like mad all the time the twins were +dressing, but it is strange about the things Miss +Arabella divulged to me that morning; although +I know that what an author or a would-be author +hears in this life belongs to him, and is his property +to be twisted and turned in his writing as +he sees fit to use it, somehow those memories I +have held sacred always, and I can't believe in +my writing I could ever get so hard-pressed that +I'd feel at liberty to make copy of what Miss +Arabella told me on that enchanted morning in +the garden.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A CHANCE FOR LOUIS</div> + + +<p>Contrary to our expectations, Zebedee did not +tease us at all for engaging board without knowing +what it was. He said he was in thorough +sympathy with all of us for shying at the subject, +and for his part he was perfectly willing to trust +the dear old ladies to do exactly the right thing.</p> + +<p>He blew in, his usual manner of arriving, +while we were at luncheon, and as we might have +known, took the Misses Laurens by storm. The +hereditary pokers melted as if by magic and even +Miss Judith succumbed to his charms and promised +to go to a moving picture show with him +some night. As for Miss Arabella: her poker +was only an imitation one, anyhow, and it did +not take much to limber her up. It was rather +astonishing, though, to find her unbending to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +extent that she and Zebedee sang Gilbert and +Sullivan operas together that evening in the garden, +Zebedee doing Dick Deadeye with his usual +abandon and Miss Arabella singing:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I'm called little Buttercup, dear little Buttercup,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Though I could never tell why—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But still I'm called Buttercup, dear little Buttercup,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Sweet little Buttercup, I."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"I wouldn't be at all astonished to see Miss +Judith dance a jig after this," whispered Dum to +me. "Isn't our young father a wonder?"</p> + +<p>He was certainly that. Professor Green +looked on in envy and amazement, still bitterly +regretting the sugar-on-the-rice episode. It is a +strange thing what makes a "mixer." Professor +Green was quite as kind as Zebedee, and quite as +eager to make people happy. He was as intelligent, +as well-bred, better educated, more traveled, +but when the time came to make old persons +forget their dignity and years or make +young persons forget their youth and callowness, +Zebedee certainly could put it all over the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +learned professor. I remember hearing one of +the twins say that he could make crabs and ice +cream agree, and surely I believe he could.</p> + +<p>"I have never met any one like him but once," +said Mrs. Green as the singers finished a duet +from "Pinafore" and began humming some tunes +from "Patience," while Miss Judith sat smiling, +and even occasionally supplying a missing word. +"I used to know a young newspaper man named +Jimmy Lufton, and he could keep a crowd happy +and make the most impossible people mingle and +enjoy themselves. It is only a very kind-hearted +person who can do it, but of course, having a +kind heart does not mean you have that power."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my dear, for that," said Professor +Green, smiling whimsically if somewhat ruefully. +"I remember very well how miserable that very +Jimmy Lufton made me on that hay ride we went +on in Kentucky, you remember, when it poured +so that the creek almost carried us away, four-horse +wagon and all. He made everybody gay +and happy but me. I was so green with jealousy +I almost sprouted."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Green blushed one of her adorable +blushes that always made her look so lovely, we +did not blame her husband for gazing at her as +though she were a ripe peach and meant to be +eaten up that moment.</p> + +<p>"If you girls go to New York to pursue your +studies I am going to write to Jimmy Lufton +and send him a letter of introduction to you, +that is, if you would care to meet him."</p> + +<p>"If he is anything like Zebedee, I should say +we would!" exclaimed Dee.</p> + +<p>"I don't mean he is like him in every way, but +just that he has that quality of mixing. I don't +know how it is done. It is a talent as elusive as +that of a born mayonnaise maker. I have seen +persons who labored to have guests enjoy themselves, +taking the greatest pains to seat them a +certain way and introduce subjects congenial to +all present, and still have the most dismal and +doleful failures of parties; while others seem to +be perfectly haphazard in their methods, and +with a certain social charm make the lion and the +lamb get on finely. The same way with mayonnaise<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +makers—some people can have the oil ice +cold, the eggs on ice for days, chill the bowl and +the fork even, drop the oil in half a minim at the +time and beat and stir like the demented, and still +turn out runny dressing, not fit for axle grease. +Others can waive all precautions of having everything +cold and pour in oil with perfect recklessness, +stirring leisurely, dump in vinegar or lemon +at the psychological moment with a pinch of salt +and a dash of cayenne, and, behold! a smooth, +beautiful mayonnaise is the result."</p> + +<p>"Speaking of lemons! Who's here?" from +Dum.</p> + +<p>It was his Eminence of the Tum Tum, in all +the glory of a starched piqué vest, followed by +Claire and Louis, both of them rather ill at ease +in their father's presence. Miss Judith introduced +the paying and non-paying guests with all +the ceremony of a presentation at the Court of +St. James.</p> + +<p>"Now I am afraid Mr. Tucker's mayonnaise +is going back on him," whispered Mrs. Green to +me; "I don't believe he and Jimmy Lufton together<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +could beat in that old man and make him +into a smooth, palatable mixture."</p> + +<p>But I was betting on Zebedee.</p> + +<p>Miss Judith and Miss Arabella were looking +around for their pokers so they could swallow +them again, but Zebedee had hidden them, and +with his inimitable good nature and tact he drew +old Mr. Gaillard into his charmed circle. By +some strange legerdemain he soon had the stiff +old man telling tales of Charleston before the +earthquake. He drew from him his opinion of +the political situation of South Carolina and +agreed with him that it was a pity that politics +was no longer a gentleman's game. I happened +to know that he felt it was the duty of every man +to make it his game, but he evidently deemed it +not the part of wisdom to voice his conviction to +the old man.</p> + +<p>We had agreed that we would do all in our +power to make Mr. Gaillard like us, as in that +way we hoped to be of some use to Louis. Zebedee +and Professor Green had been discussing +the boy quite seriously that very afternoon, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +had thought of several ways to benefit him. They +had decided, however, to make friends with the +father first and not spring their plans too suddenly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gaillard was evidently enjoying himself +hugely. The Greens were most flattering in their +attention as he pompously recounted his tales. +Mrs. Green was looking her loveliest, and one +could see with half an eye that he soon began to +direct his conversation to her. He pulled down +his starched vest that had an annoying way of +riding up over his rotundity, and smoothed his +freshly shaven double chin with the air of being +quite a ladies' man. Tweedles and I drew Claire +and Louis over to the summer house away from +their father's disconcerting presence. Their easy +manners returned then and we spent a merry, +happy hour.</p> + +<p>Professor Green joined us after a while. He +seemed anxious to make friends with Louis and +to fathom the boy. I felt sure he had some plan +for helping him and was sounding him, in a way. +Louis was natural and simple in his attitude<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +toward Professor Green, and I could see was +making a very good impression.</p> + +<p>"You would like to go to college, would you +not?"</p> + +<p>"Beyond everything. I am prepared to enter +college now, but I am nineteen and feel if I do +not go soon it will be too late. I am rather late +graduating at the high school but had to miss a +year because of an illness."</p> + +<p>"I think nineteen is a very proper age to enter +college," said the professor kindly. "I wonder +if you would like my old college, Exmoor? It is +a small college, but of excellent standing."</p> + +<p>"I am sure I should like any college," and +Louis sighed.</p> + +<p>"I am commissioned by the faculty of Exmoor +to find a young Southern gentleman to take pity +on a scholarship that has been endowed for their +college. It seems that this scholarship can only +be used by a Southerner, and he must be a gentleman +born and bred. It was presented four +years ago by a man whose only son was rescued +from drowning by a daring young Southern boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +The father had more money than he could use, +and he wanted to send the brave youth to college +to show in some measure his appreciation of +what he had done. To make the gift one that the +boy could not hesitate to accept, he established a +permanent scholarship at Exmoor. Of course +no one is too proud or high-born to accept a +scholarship. That boy graduates this year with +high honors after four very creditable years at +college, and now the faculty must find another +Southerner to fill his place. The president asked +me to be on the lookout for one while I am on +this trip, and if you would like to take it, I should +be proud and gratified to be the means of presenting +it to you."</p> + +<p>Through this long speech Louis stood wide-eyed +and flushed. Claire caught him by one hand +and impulsive Dee by the other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir!" was all he could falter.</p> + +<p>"You must, you must!" exclaimed Dee.</p> + +<p>"Louis, Louis, if you only can!" and Claire +raised his hand to her cheek.</p> + +<p>"But what will my father say?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We are going to leave him to Mr. Tucker, at +least he is going to prepare the way. I have had +a long talk with Tucker this afternoon, and we +have mapped out a plan of campaign."</p> + +<p>"But your father surely could have no objection," +said Dum. "A scholarship is something +that everybody accepts."</p> + +<p>"But father is very—very—well—proud, I +might say," and poor Claire looked exceedingly +uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"Well, this can make him prouder than ever," +I put in. "He can be proud that his son is chosen +to have this scholarship because of his being +the nice Southern gentleman he is."</p> + +<p>By this time Louis could command his voice, +and he said:</p> + +<p>"I can hardly tell you, sir, how much I appreciate +the interest you have shown in me and your +kindness in making this offer, and I hope to be +able to accept it. I wish it might have been because +of something I am in myself, and not just +because I am the descendant of gentlemen."</p> + +<p>"But you are what you are partly because of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +that descent," I insisted. "Persons of low extraction +accomplish something in spite of it sometimes; +but I must say it is pleasant to have scholarships +thrust upon one because of being a +Southern gentleman. I think in this day and +generation our ancestors do precious little for us—just +sit back in their gilt frames and make us +uncomfortable—I am glad for some of them to +be getting to work."</p> + +<p>Louis laughed and said he didn't know but that +I was right. We all of us wanted to hear more +of Exmoor, and Professor Green told us it was a +small college, quite old and of excellent standing +among educators, and that it was in walking distance +of Wellington, where he occupied the chair +of English. It turned out, however, that the professor +was a great walker, and that Exmoor and +Wellington were more than ten miles apart.</p> + +<p>"Exmoor has a very fine course in agriculture +and one of the greatest landscape gardeners in +the United States is a graduate of that college, +and boasts that he got his start there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Louis, that will be splendid, and you can<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +specialize in that and come back to Charleston +and do all the things you dream of doing!" exclaimed +Dee, who still had Louis by the hand but +was totally oblivious of the fact.</p> + +<p>She was so excited over the offer Professor +Green had made her friend that she might even +have hugged him without knowing she was doing +it. Louis was not quite so unconscious as +Dee, but was making the best of his opportunity. +Dee's attitude toward Louis was very much one +that she had toward Oliver, the kitten she saved +from drowning our first year at boarding-school, +a purely maternal feeling, looking upon herself +as his protector and elderly friend (being about +two years his junior). Louis, however, was tumbling +head over heels in love with her, as Dum +and I could plainly see. There had not been +many meetings, but when there were he stuck +much closer than a brother to her side.</p> + +<p>Claire could see it as plainly as we could, and +no doubt went through all the heartaches an only +sister would. She evidently liked Dee very much, +however, and was willing to efface herself completely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +if it would make Louis happy. But Dee +would have been quite as astonished if the kitten, +Oliver, had stood up on his hind legs and sworn +undying love for her; or Pharaoh's daughter, if +the infant Moses had burst forth in amorous +rhapsodies from his wicker basket after she had +saved him from the waters of the Nile. She +dropped his hand to pick up Grimalkin, and I am +sure at the time she had no more sensations about +the one than the other.</p> + +<p>"If I might advise you young people," said +Professor Green, "I think it will be just as well +to say nothing to your father yet about the scholarship, +but wait and Mr. Tucker and I will +formally suggest it to him and ask his permission."</p> + +<p>Of course the young Gaillards agreed heartily +with Professor Green, and glad they were, no +doubt, to have the office of approaching their +pompous relative delegated to someone else. In +the meantime, the pompous relative was making +himself vastly agreeable, and the two arch conspirators, +Molly and Zebedee, were doing all in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +their power to flatter and soft-soap him with a +view to gaining his confidence and putting in an +entering wedge toward helping his son.</p> + +<p>"Claire," said his Eminence of the Tum Tum, +"have you extended an invitation to tea in the +garden of our home to the Misses Laurens and +their guests?"</p> + +<p>We had joined the rest of the party, attracted +by the gay laughter and evident enjoyment of the +older members.</p> + +<p>"No, father," said Claire timidly. I haven't a +doubt that he had told her not to ask us until he +found out whether we were worthy or not. "We +shall be most pleased to have all of you to afternoon +tea tomorrow."</p> + +<p>Of course we were most pleased to accept, as +no doubt that would be the occasion on which +Louis' fate would be decided. Zebedee and the +professor could put it up to him then.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Green, I came mighty near hugging +your husband tonight," declared Dee, after the +guests had departed and the dear old ladies had +taken their bedroom candles and gone to their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +Colonial couches, with strict admonitions to Zebedee +to lock up. Already they were trusting him +with that sacred rite of locking up.</p> + +<p>"Why did you only come near doing it?" +laughed the young wife.</p> + +<p>"Well, I just grabbed Louis' hand instead. It +was so dear of him to think of giving the scholarship +to Louis. He was so lovely and gentle in +his way of doing it, too. Now nothing lies between +Louis and certain success. I just know if +he can get the chance he will do something with +himself. It will develop him to get away from +his old father, too. How could anybody grow +with that—that ponderous weight on him?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gaillard is really not nearly so bad as I +feared. He is very agreeable and very gallant."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Molly darling, I did not think you would +be taken in by flattery," teased the husband.</p> + +<p>"But I did like him, not just because he flattered +me, but because he was very nice to Miss +Judith and Miss Arabella, too, and because—— Oh, +just because!"</p> + +<p>The truth of the matter was that Mrs. Green<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +had a tendency to like everybody. It amounted +to almost a fault with her, but since there were +degrees of liking and she did not like everybody +in exactly the same way, we could not quite put +it down as a fault. I must say, though, that I +do like to see a little wholesome hatred possible +in a character. I like people, too, lots and loads +of people, but there are some kinds of people I +just naturally don't like. I don't like horse-faced +people with their eyes set up too high in their +heads; I don't like men who wear club-toed button +shoes, and I never could stand girls who toss +their curls. Now Mr. Gaillard did not come under +any of those heads of hatred, but somehow I +did not like him one little bit: a case of Dr. Fell, +I fancy.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I do not like thee, Dr. Fell!<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The reason why I cannot tell.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">But one thing 'tis, I know full well—</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">I do not like thee, Dr. Fell."</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Father had certain types he could not stand. +I have heard him say: "I can stand a fool; I +can stand a fat fool; but a fat fool with a little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +mouth I can't abide." I think Mr. Gaillard came +under his ban. He was fat and had a little +mouth, and certainly while he was not a fool on +all subjects, he was a big enough fool on the subjects +he was a fool on to spread over all the +things he was not a fool on.</p> + +<p>I dreaded going to tea with the Gaillards. I +had a terrible feeling that I might "sass" his +Eminence of the Tum Tum. There was something +about the way he pulled down his vest and +wiped off his chin that deprived me of reason. I +could well understand the temporary aberration +that is the plea of criminals who say that some +instinct over which they have no control compels +them to commit murder. I could have +punched Mr. Gaillard one with all the joy on +earth.</p> + +<p>"I feel the same way," declared Zebedee, when +I voiced the above sentiments to him.</p> + +<p>"Me, too! Me, too!" tweedled the twins.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Green, I think if Mrs. Green +likes Mr. Gaillard, she had better broach the subject +of the scholarship for Louis."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Tucker! You can do it so much +better than I can."</p> + +<p>"Now I don't want to be a shirker and will do +it with joy, as I don't regard the old cove one +way or the other. I'd just as soon ask him to +come be printer's devil on my newspaper as not. +But this is the thing: We want him to consent +and let Louis have this chance, and I believe your +husband will bear me out that it is good psychology +for a person who really likes another to ask +a favor rather than one who only pretends to. +Now you say you like Mr. Gaillard——"</p> + +<p>"So I do—that is, I don't dislike him, and I +think he has some fine points."</p> + +<p>"It would take an X-ray to discover them +through all that plumpness," put in Dee flippantly.</p> + +<p>"You, as the wife of the man who was commissioned +by the President of Exmoor to bestow +this honor on a Southern boy, would be the +appropriate person, anyhow—that is, unless +Green himself will do it."</p> + +<p>"Not I! I feel toward him just as Miss Page<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +does, and speaking of psychology—my astral +body is at war with his astral body to such an extent +that a pricking in my thumb tells me he will +grant no request of mine and Molly must bell the +cat."</p> + +<p>"All right! I am willing to do anything my +lord and master puts on me, if you really think +I can succeed."</p> + +<p>"Succeed! Of course you can!" we chorused.</p> + +<p>"Tomorrow afternoon, then, when we have tea +with them in their garden, will be 'the time, the +place, and the girl.' He will have to be nice under +his own vine and fig tree," suggested Zebedee.</p> + +<p>"There is one thing I ask of you," begged +Dum.</p> + +<p>"And what is that? I feel myself to be very +important," and Mrs. Green wasted another +beautiful blush.</p> + +<p>"Wear blue! Your own blue! I know he is +the kind of old man who can't resist a beautiful +woman in blue."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>A RED, RED ROSE</div> + + +<p>I don't know whether it was the blue of her +eyes or her dress or perhaps the fact that they +matched so beautifully, but at any rate Mrs. +Green put the proposition up to Mr. Gaillard +with such adroitness that he consented to the +scholarship, and so quickly that she could hardly +believe the battle was won.</p> + +<p>"I had not half used up my arguments," she +said afterward, "and felt that I must go on persuading +when he was already persuaded."</p> + +<p>She had started out with the premises that of +course he must feel sorry for the benighted +North, so sadly in need of the softening influence +of the South. She descanted on how a little +leaven of good manners would leaven a whole +lump of bad manners, and how popular Southern<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +students were in Northern schools and colleges +because of the good manners and breeding they +brought with them. (This was particularly hard +on Mrs. Green, as she firmly held the opinion that +people were the same all over the world, that +good manners were the same everywhere. She +felt, however, that she would use any argument +to make Mr. Gaillard see the light.)</p> + +<p>She then told the story of the grateful man +who had established the scholarship at Exmoor +for the four years of the academic course and +expatiated on his opinion of Southern youths. +She lauded the college as having turned out such +good men. Gradually she got to the subject of +Louis and how close Wellington was to Exmoor, +and before the old man knew what he was doing +he had consented to Louis' accepting the scholarship. +He did it with an air of having loaded +the Yankees with benefits in allowing one of his +exalted position and azure blood to stoop and +mingle with them; but it made no difference to us +what he felt on the subject, just so he would let +Louis accept.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> + +<p>We were having tea in their lovely garden and +Louis was showing us his flowers while Mrs. +Green was wheedling "papa." She looked so +lovely I verily believe the old gentleman would +have accepted the scholarship himself just to be +only ten miles from her for four years.</p> + +<p>I believe Claire was even happier than Louis +when "papa's" ultimatum was pronounced. She +was going to miss him more than even she could +divine, but her love for him was so deep that she +was willing to give up anything for him. Louis +was glad and grateful, but the truth of the matter +was he was so taken up with Dee that mere +college and scholarships meant little to him.</p> + +<p>"His eyes look just like Brindle's when he +looks at her that way," sniffed Dum, who did not +relish too much lovering toward her twin. "I +shouldn't be in the least astonished if he began +to whine to be taken up next."</p> + +<p>"Why, Dum, I thought you liked Louis!"</p> + +<p>"So I do. I like Brindle, too, and Oliver, the +kitten; but I like them in their places, and that is +not everlastingly glued to Dee's side. I must say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +I think he had better get out and hustle some +before he comes lollapalusing around Dee." I +was awfully afraid someone would hear Dum, +and stirred my tea very loudly to drown her +tirade.</p> + +<p>"But, Dum, Dee grabbed his hand herself last +night; she said she did," I whispered, trying to +set the conversation in a lower tone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that! But don't you reckon I +saw him holding on to it for dear life? He was +mighty limp on Claire's side and mighty strenuous +on Dee's. When he had to put back a lock +of hair, I saw him let go of his sister's hand and +swing to Dee's. And Dee with about as much +feeling for him as a wooden Indian!"</p> + +<p>The Tuckers were, father and daughters, very +strict about one another's admirers. I remembered +how Dee had sniffed over Reginald Kent's +admiration for Dum, and Zebedee, too; and how +Dum and Dee carried on over any attention their +father paid any female or any female paid him. +Zebedee had not yet scented out Louis as a possible +lover, but when he did I was sure to hear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +from him. They one and all brought their grievances +to me. I used to think if any of them ever +should unite themselves to anyone in the holy +bonds of matrimony, they would have to have a +triple wedding to keep the persons the Tuckers +were marrying from getting their eyes scratched +out. If they were all in the same boat, they +would have to behave and sit steady.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Dee's influence over Louis +was certainly a wholesome one. Whether his +love for her was of the undying brand or just +the calf kind, it was very sincere and ardent, so +ardent that Dee must soon wake up and realize +that she had done a right serious thing when she +put out her girlish hand and drew back that poor +boy's soul just as it was getting ready for the +journey to the Great Beyond. She was in a +measure responsible for him now, and the time +would come when she would have to be a woman +and no longer a wooden Indian, have to treat +Louis with a different manner from the one she +had for Brindle and Oliver; that is, of course, +provided Louis' love turned out to be the undying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +brand and not the calf kind. When it was +said that Dee Tucker treated anyone like a dog, +it meant the highest praise for that person. She +treated all dogs with a great deal more consideration +than she did most people.</p> + +<p>Every flower Dee admired, Louis immediately +wanted to give her, but she persuaded him to let +them go on blooming where they belonged. He +had a greenhouse in the back of the garden, +where some wonderful roses bloomed all the year +round. A great Jaqueminot filled one side of the +house, its crimson blooms beautiful to behold. +Louis cut one and brought it out to Dee. I was +glad I was the only one who heard him as he +gave it to her, as I am sure Dum would have +"acted up," as Mammy Susan calls it. Dum had +gone to the tea table to put down her cup, and +Mrs. Green had detained her a moment, while I +wandered on in the maze of gravel walks. An +oleander hid me from Louis and Dee as he handed +her the marvelous open rose, and with a voice +that even a wooden Indian would have remarked, +he said:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> + +<div class='poem'> +"When I send thee a red, red rose,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The sweetest flower on earth that grows,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Think, dear heart, how I love thee.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Listen to what the red rose saith</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">With its crimson leaf and fragrant breath:</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Love, I am thine in life and death!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Oh, my love, doth thou love me?'"</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Humph! Going some!" I thought, and +backed down the walk, thereby running into +Dum, who smeared a lettuce sandwich on my +back in the encounter; but she did not know what +I had heard.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>MORE LETTERS</div> + + +<p>Mrs. Edwin Green, from Mrs. Kent Brown.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><div class='right'> + +<span class="smcap">New York</span>, April .., 19...<br /> +</div> + +<span class="smcap">Molly Darling</span>: + +<p>Your letter was good to get. Kent and I had +begun to feel like -in-laws, it had been so long +since you had written. Mother Brown, the usually +faithful chronicler of all the doings and sayings +of the family, had cut us off with a postal. +Now that we know she is "keepin' keer" of little +Mildred, we can understand her silence better. +When Mother Brown does anything, she does it +all over, and I am sure when she is doing such a +thing as attend to anything so precious as her +beloved grandchild she has no time for mere letter +writing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> + +<p>Kent and I were greatly interested in what you +had to tell us of the charming Virginians you +have met in Charleston. It was almost uncanny, +in a way, to hear from you of these people, as we +had just been hearing of them from a very nice +young man with whom Kent has struck up an +acquaintance at the Y. M. C. A. gym, where +Kent goes regularly to keep from getting flabby. +The young man's name is Reginald Kent. It +was the name Kent that they had in common +(one in front and one behind) that first brought +them together. They were always getting mixed +up on account of it, my Kent answering when +the other Kent was called, and vice versa.</p> + +<p>This young Mr. Kent is an illustrator and advertising +artist. He really is very clever and +very wide-awake. He was dining with us at the +very time that your letter was brought to me, on +the last mail. I had to open it and read part of +it aloud. He had just been telling us of some +cousins named Winn he visits in the country in +Virginia, and of some Richmond girls whom he +has met staying with Page Allison, and these<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +girls are no other than your Tucker twins. He +says the first time he met them he went on a deer +hunt and that Miss Dum Tucker actually shot a +deer. I was slightly incredulous, he thought, and +to prove his story he took out of his pocketbook +two kodak pictures, one of a very handsome, spirited-looking +girl with her hair coming down and +a rifle raised to her shoulder, and the other a +fallen buck with a young girl kneeling beside him, +her arms around his neck and her face buried on +his shoulder. That one, he said, was Miss Dee, +who wept buckets over the death of the buck, but +managed afterward to partake of some of the +venison.</p> + +<p>I have an idea Mr. Reginald Kent thinks that +Miss Dum Tucker is about the most attractive +person he ever met. He is certainly very attractive +himself, singularly wholesome and clean in +appearance and mind. He seemed very happy at +the prospect of this paragon of a girl's coming +to New York to study. I will be very glad to be +of any use to your friends I can, and if they do +decide to come I will find board for them and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +mother them, too, if they need it. I know you +are grinning at the idea of my mothering anything—I, +the harum-scarum, the flibberty-jibberty—but +I am really very much settled down. I +am so steady and good that Kent is afraid I am +sick.</p> + +<p>Caroline is doing the work very well for us. +I am the envy of all the people we know because +I can boast a really, truly Kentucky Bluegrass +cook. She is awfully funny about New York, +but I think is beginning to like it very well. Gas +scared her nearly to death for a few days. She +seemed to think there was some kind of magic in +it, and I had to light the stove for her a million +times a day. I found she was just keeping it +burning all the time to save matches, and when I +told her to turn it out if she wasn't using it, she +almost cried, because, it seems, she was afraid of +the pop it gave when she lit it. Then she began +calling on me every time she wanted to light it, +but after a week or so of such humoring she has +learned to do it herself, and now everything is +going along swimmingly. I find she is saving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +the burnt matches, though, to make some kind of +bracket with—something she saw back in "Kaintucky."</p> + +<p>I think the greatest shock she ever had was +when she found out that in New York you had +to pay for onions. "I nebber hearn tell of no +sich a place. If'n you ain't made out ter grow +none yo'se'f, looks ter me lak some er yo' neighbors +mought be ginerous enough to gib yer a +han'ful fer seasonin', not fer fryin' or b'ilin'. I +wouldn' spec a whole mess er onions as a gif'—but +it do seem a shame ter hab ter buy a dash er +seasonin'."</p> + +<p>She almost got her head knocked off with the +dumb-waiter the other day. She thought it was +down, and it was up, and she put her head in the +shaft to watch for it, all the time giving the most +vigorous pulling to the rope. The dumb-waiter +descended with great force and hit her squarely +on the top of the head. I heard a great bump +and flew to the kitchen. "Caroline! Caroline! +What is the matter?" I cried. "'Tain't nothin' +much, Miss Judy, but it mought 'a' been. That<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +there deaf-and-dumb dining-room servant done +biffed me a lick that pretty near knocked a hole +in his flo'." "Did it hurt very badly?" "No'm, +it didn't ter say hurt none. It jes' dizzified me a +leetle. You see, Miss Judy, it jes' hit me on the +haid."</p> + +<p>Just on the head!</p> + +<p>I think Caroline is almost as much afraid of +Aunt Mary's disapproval now that the old +woman is dead as she was in her lifetime. Whenever +she passes the picture I did of Aunt Mary +on the back porch of Chatsworth shelling peas, +she suddenly gets in a great hurry. She is not +as a rule very energetic, but at the sight of Aunt +Mary she gets a great move on her. She came in +the other day from some jaunt she had been on, +it being her afternoon off, and said: "Looks lak +wherever I goes folks seem to 'vine I'm from de +Souf. I ast a colored gemman how he guessed +it an' he said it was my sof' accident what gimme +away. I's goin' ter try ter speak mo' Yankeefied +an' see if'n I can't pass fer Noo York."</p> + +<p>Caroline's first attempt at being Yankeefied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +was almost fatal. She made friends with some +of the white maids in the apartment house, some +Scandinavians, and in her endeavor to become +New Yorky she swapped recipes with them, and +the next morning served for breakfast the result: +corn bread with sugar in it! You can picture +Kent.</p> + +<p>Kent and I are seeing some very pleasant people, +but both of us are working very hard. I +work every morning at the Art Students' League +from 9 to 12. That means I leave the house with +Kent. I go to market on the way to the League +and get back to luncheon. Sometimes he comes +in to luncheon, too, but he is usually too busy. In +the afternoon I sew or read or go shopping or +to the matinee, always something to do in New +York, and then we have dinner at 6:30 and long, +delightful evenings together, usually at home; +but sometimes we take in a show and sometimes +we dine at a restaurant. We have callers in the +evening often and also return calls, but Kent is +not much of a caller, as you know.</p> + +<p>We have company to dinner, too, quite often<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +now that Caroline has found herself. Kent delights +in bringing home unexpected company. +He has a notion he is still living in Kentucky and +that this little two-by-four flat is Chatsworth itself. +Caroline is fortunately accustomed to it, +but I am afraid she will soon become corrupted +by these Scandinavians, who would not put up +with it one moment. Of course I don't mind how +many companies he brings home, and if we are +short on rations I can do like the immortal Mrs. +Wiggs and just put a little more water in the +soup. This idiosyncrasy of my young husband, +however, has taught me to keep a supply of +canned soups, asparagus tips, etc., in the store-room. +My friends among the young married set +tell me they market day by day and never have +anything like that on the shelves as it makes the +servants wasteful. Maybe it does, but I feel +quite safe with Caroline and the canned goods, +as she has never yet learned how to use a can-opener.</p> + +<p>Please give the learned professor my best love. +Kent sends his love to you both. This is such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +long letter I am sure it will take two stamps to +send it.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span style="margin-right: 2em;">Your ever devoted,</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Judy Kean Brown</span>.<br /> +</div></div> + + +<p>Page Allison from Dr. James Allison of Milton, +Va.:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><div class='right'> +<span class="smcap">Bracken</span>, April .., 19...<br /> +</div> + +<span class="smcap">My dear Daughter</span>: + +<p>Mammy Susan and I were very glad to hear +from you. You are a nice girl to write such a +fine, long letter to a mere afterthought. If you +write that splendid a letter to a mere afterthought, +what would you do for a beforethought?</p> + +<p>Your new friends sound delightful. I wish I +might know them. The only kick I have about +being nothing but a country doctor is that I meet +so few new people. Of course it is interesting +work, and I am not out of love with it, but sometimes +I do get a weeny, teeny bored with poor +Sally Winn's aches and pains, and wish either<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +she had some new aches or she could tell about +them in a more scintillating manner. Some new +people are moving into our neighborhood, the +Carters. Of course, as the name indicates, they +are not new people except to our neighborhood. +They have taken the old overseer's cottage on the +Grantly estate, leased it from the two Miss +Grants for a year, and are coming bag and baggage +in a few days. I don't know how many of +them there are, but I believe it is quite a family +of girls and one or more boys and a mother and +father, one of them an invalid. More pink pump +water to be concocted by yours truly, I fancy. I +hope they will be agreeable, since no doubt we +will have to see something of them. The cottage +is in miserable repair, and I only hope it will not +tumble down on them. If they are coming to our +county for fresh air, they will get it there winter +and summer, as there are cracks in the walls as +big as those in a corn crib. Pretty lawn, though, +about the prettiest I know of anywhere, and trees +that make me think of Tennyson's "immemorial +elms." I shall not call on these new neighbors<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +until you come home—that is, unless I am sent +for to come and bring some pink pump water.</p> + +<p>I have had a letter from General Price, +Harvie's grandfather, asking for the pleasure of +your company in the month of July on a house-party +he is giving his grandson. It is such a dignified, +ponderous epistle that I am afraid I shall +have to send to Richmond for the proper stationery +with which to reply. Nothing less than +crested vellum could possibly carry my acceptance. +The King of England could not observe +more form were you being invited to put in two +weeks at Windsor. It is very kind of him, however, +to ask my little girl, and I hope by the aid +of the dictionary to express myself with ease and +verbosity in acknowledging the honor. Of course +you want to go?</p> + +<p>I shall be pleased to have the volume of +Henry Timrod's poems. I'd like to see the Coogler +poems, too. I enjoyed the extracts immensely. +I have often heard of him and remember +reading some reviews of his stuff when it came +out years ago, before you were born, but I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +never seen any of it. His efforts were so impossible +that the reviewers treated him, one and all, +with mock seriousness, and I believe I have heard +he took them all seriously and thought he was +being praised when they were only poking fun at +him. It is rather pathetic, I think, although of +course he was an awful blockhead.</p> + +<p>Mammy Susan was pleased at your account of +the flowers in Charleston, and hopes you can send +her a few clippin's. Her things are doing very +well, and her lemon verbena has grown so that I +tell her we shall have to build a lean-to to keep it +in. She misses you very much and is beginning +to count the days to the middle of May, when I +assure her you will be back with us.</p> + +<p>I hope your ankle is behaving itself. You do +not mention it, so I fancy it is. Please remember +me most kindly to all the Tuckers—father +and daughters. I hope you are not bothering +Jeffry Tucker by being with them too much. I +think there is such a thing as the best friend +wearing out her welcome by staying too long. I +am sending you a check for your expenses. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> +have not divulged how much your board will be, +but if I do not make the check large enough, +please inform me directly. A sickly winter +means a little more money in the bank in the +spring for a country doctor. Thank goodness, +however, the spring seems to be a healthy one. +I'd like to be a Chinese doctor and be paid only +when my patients stay well. Sometimes it saddens +me to feel that my living depends on disease.</p> + +<p>Good-by, my dear little daughter.</p> + +<div class='sig'> +<span class="smcap">Father.</span><br /> +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>THE SUMMING UP</div> + + +<p>Charleston had taken a strong hold on all our +affections. The spirit of the place seemed to possess +us as we lazed away the hours in Miss Arabella's +tangled old garden or in Louis' more +combed and brushed one. Our friendship for +the Greens grew stronger and deeper, and we +were soon addressing Mrs. Green as Molly and +her husband as 'Fessor. All of us were staying +in the beautiful old Southern city longer than we +had intended. Zebedee said he had no excuse +for lingering longer, as he had threshed out the +political situation to his own satisfaction and the +dissatisfaction of the South Carolina "ring." He +should be back on his job in Richmond, but he +said he felt like one of the lotus-eaters and nothing +much made any difference to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Fessor also had overstayed his holiday, but he +declared that his assistant at Wellington could +do the work as well as he could, which amused +Molly greatly as she said it was the first time he +had acknowledged that his assistant could do +anything at all; he looked upon him usually as +purely ornamental and not intended for use.</p> + +<p>I knew father and Mammy Susan were wondering +if I had forgotten them entirely, but my +conscience, too, was lulled to rest, and I felt as +though I could spend the rest of my days dreaming +and dozing. Tweedles, of course, had nothing +to do but stay with a light heart as no one +was expecting them home but poor Brindle; and +as Brindle was left in care of the elevator boy, +who spoiled him outrageously, even treating him +to ice cream cones, I really believe he did not +mind being left nearly so much as Dee liked to +think he did.</p> + +<p>Every day we lengthened our stay in Charleston +was as another pearl on the string to poor +Louis, and to Claire, too, I think. Thanks to +Molly and Zebedee, his Eminence of the Tum<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> +Tum had accepted the whole crowd as desirable, +and that meant that we could see as much of his +children as we wanted to; and as we wanted to +see them all the time, we did.</p> + +<p>We went on wonderful jaunts with them, and +saw everything that could be seen, Louis acting +as guide. Sometimes we even persuaded one of +the dear old ladies to go with us. I am sure they +saw things they had not seen for a decade. We +noticed one thing, that when Zebedee was along +they always left their pokers behind.</p> + +<p>Sullivan's Island thrilled us, and Dum and +Zebedee tried to work out the whole scene of +Poe's "Gold Bug," but as the island is now a +popular summer resort, it was not an easy +matter to do.</p> + +<p>There is no use in trying to describe the Magnolia +Gardens. The azaleas were in full bloom, +and nowhere else in the world, I verily believe, is +there such a sight. Some of the bushes are thirty +feet high and look like giant bouquets.</p> + +<p>"I feel like the country woman at the circus +the first time she saw a hippopotamus," declared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +Zebedee; "I don't believe there's no sich thing! +It doesn't seem possible that these are growing +plants and that in Richmond at Easter I have had +to pay five dollars for a little azalea not much +more than two feet high."</p> + +<p>The dark green of the magnolia and live-oak +trees enhanced the glory of the flowers. It was +so beautiful it hurt. Molly said it made her feel +as she did the first time she ever saw an opera +at the Metropolitan in New York. It was her +freshman year at Wellington, and she had been +invited to visit in New York during the Christmas +holidays.</p> + +<p>"It was 'Madame Butterfly,' and the scenery +was so wonderful to me I could hardly listen to +the music. I fancy cherry-blossom time in Japan +must be almost as beautiful as this, but I can't +believe it is quite so brilliant."</p> + +<p>Magnolia Cemetery, which is just outside of +Charleston and which Dee had refused to see +without Zebedee, certainly would be a nice place +to be buried in. It was sadder to visit because of +the new graves there, and Zebedee had to abandon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +his usual cheerful graveyard spirits. He +was quite solemn and kept his hat off all the +time.</p> + +<p>Louis skirted us around the outer edge of the +cemetery first and saved the great old oak for +the last. It burst upon us with such force that +as a crowd we were left breathless. The beauty +of the azaleas at Magnolia gardens, compared to +this hoary old monarch, were as a cheap obituary +poem to the twenty-third psalm. And in +saying that I do not mean to belittle the beauty +of the gardens, but I have to put them in that +category to make a place high enough in the +scale of comparison for that tree.</p> + +<p>It was huge, but bent over with years like some +old man, and one great limb was resting on the +ground, giving it the look of one kneeling in +prayer. The foliage was vigorous and glossy, +deeper and richer in color than that of many +younger trees, just as the wonderful words of +some grand old man, John Burroughs or his ilk, +will make the utterances of younger men seem +pale and feeble.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> + +<p>In kneeling and coming so in touch with +Mother Earth, this Father of the Forest had borrowed +of her fullness, and now his trunk and +huge limbs were covered with an exquisite ferny +growth. Wild violets and anemones bloomed +happily in the crotches of his great arms, and I +saw a tiny wild strawberry ripening on his knee, +having escaped the vigilance of the many birds +nesting in the upper branches. Spanish moss +hung in festoons from some of the limbs, seeming +like a venerable beard.</p> + +<p>I have never had anything affect me as that +tree did. It was so gallant and brave, so kindly +and beneficent! It had the spirit of youth and +the kindliness of old age; the playfulness of a +child and the wisdom of centuries. It must have +seen the Indians crowded out by the white men; +looked out across the harbor at the storming of +Fort Moultrie, and almost a century later at the +defence of Fort Sumter. Wars and rumors of +wars were nothing to this veteran. While we +were there a perky wren pounced down on the +defenceless strawberry and gobbled it up, and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +am sure the gray beard thought no more of the +gobbling up of the redmen than he did of that +red berry. His comparisons were of æons and +not of decades or mere centuries.</p> + +<p>"There is no use in talking about it!" exclaimed +Zebedee. "I've got to climb that tree, if +it means one hundred dollars' fine and a month +in jail."</p> + +<p>That was exactly the way I felt. It seemed to +me as though I simply had to get up that tree. +The park policeman was nowhere in sight, and +Zebedee ran lightly up the bent back of the ancient +giant, Dum after him. It was easy climbing, +and I would have followed suit in spite of +my ankle, that I could not yet quite trust, if I +had not seen the helmet of the policeman looming +up over a near-by sepulchre.</p> + +<p>Claire was shocked at what seemed to her a +desecration, but Louis said afterward he knew +just how Mr. Tucker felt. He had always wanted +to get up that tree, and he considered it a +kind of homage due the old oak. Trees were +meant to climb, and it was no more a desecration<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +to climb one even if it did happen to be in a cemetery, +than it was to smell a rose that bloomed +there.</p> + +<p>The policeman, all unconscious of the coons he +had treed, came ambling up and stood and talked +to us for quite a while until Dee tactfully drew +him off to descant on the glories of the William +Washington monument. Zebedee and Dum sat +very still in their leafy bower, so still that Zebedee +declared a bird came and tweaked some of +Dum's hair out to help line his nest; but Dum +said he did it himself until she had to make a +noise like a catbird to make him stop.</p> + +<p>There is no telling what fine and punishment +would have been imposed on the miscreants. It +was not that it was such a terribly naughty thing +to do, but just that it had never been done before. +They slipped down, however, while the policeman's +back was turned and came up smiling +around the other side with the innocent expression +a cat assumes when he has been in the cream +jug.</p> + +<p>"It was worth it," whispered Zebedee to me;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +"I am so sorry you couldn't get up, too. The old +fellow was glad to have us up there. He told me +that no children had climbed up to hug him for +at least a hundred years. I didn't tell him that I +was grown up, but just let him treat me like a +little child. He didn't know the difference."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think he would," I laughed, "when +there isn't any difference."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>And now it is time to stop, and I shall have +to close my story of Charleston. All of us wanted +to dream on there forever. It had been a +wonderful time. We had made lifelong friends +of Molly Brown and 'Fessor Green. We had +flopped into the lives of the Gaillards and expected +to stay. We had made our way into one +of the most difficult and exclusive homes in the +city of exclusive homes, and Miss Judith and +Miss Arabella Laurens had taken us to their fluttering +hearts.</p> + +<p>Their thin pocketbooks had also opened to take +in a fair and generous recompense for their kind +hospitality—but it had been Zebedee and not Edwin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +Green who had finally and tactfully completed +our business arrangements.</p> + +<p>Now Zebedee said he must get back to his newspaper. +He felt it calling him, as he had discovered +an advertisement on the editorial page—a +crime in newspaperdom that was deserving of +capital punishment. He must get back and chop +off somebody's head.</p> + +<p>Then 'Fessor Green began to fear his assistant +was not able to do his work, and Molly +couldn't wait another day to see little Mildred, +her baby. I knew it was selfish for me to stay +any longer from father, who did have a stupid +time of it when all was told.</p> + +<p>Dee began to feel that Brindle missed her. +Dum said it was because Louis had the same expression +in his eyes that Brindle did and it made +Dee feel that she must get back to her pet.</p> + +<p>We parted from our friends with many assurances +of meeting again. The Greens asked us to +visit them at Wellington or in Kentucky, where +they spent their summers, and of course we asked +them to come see us in Virginia. Molly was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +send us letters of introduction to her friends in +New York, and Louis was planning to stop in +Richmond on his way to Exmoor. Parting was +only planning for future meetings.</p> + +<p>I was to stay at Bracken for several months +and then meet my friends at Price's Landing, so +sometime I shall tell you my experiences there, +in "A House Party with the Tucker Twins."</p> + + +<div class='center'><br />THE END</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/1_gs_ad.png" width="111" height="150" alt="The Girl Scouts Canoe Trip by Edith Lavell" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The<br />Girl Scouts<br />Series</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + +<div class='center'><br /> +BY EDITH LAVELL<br /> +</div> + +<p>A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by +an author of wide experience in Scouts' craft, as +Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.</p> + +<div class='center'> +Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.<br /><br /><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Girl Scout series"> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'ALLENS'">ALLEN'S</ins> SCHOOL</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS' VACATION ADVENTURES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GIRL SCOUTS' MOTOR TRIP<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/2_mdhs_ad.png" width="117" height="150" alt="Marjorie Dean HIGH-SCHOOL FRESHMAN" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>Marjorie Dean<br />High School<br />Series</div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<div class='center'><br /> +BY PAULINE LESTER<br /> +Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series<br /> + +<br /> +These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great +interest to all girls of high school age.<br /> +<br /> + +All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH<br /><br /><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Marjorie Dean High School series"> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/3_mdcl_ad.png" width="108" height="150" alt="Marjorie Dean: College Sophomore" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>Marjorie Dean<br />College<br />Series</div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<div class='center'> +BY PAULINE LESTER.<br /> +Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean High School Series.<br /> +<br /> +Those who have read the Marjorie Dean High +School Series will be eager to read this new series, +as Marjorie Dean continues to be the heroine in +these stories.<br /> + +<br /> +All Clothbound. Copyright Titles.<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.<br /><br /><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Marjorie Dean College Series"> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE FRESHMAN</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SOPHOMORE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE JUNIOR</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MARJORIE DEAN, COLLEGE SENIOR<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/4_cf_ad.png" width="110" height="150" alt="The Campfire Girls IN THE MAINE WOODS" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The Camp Fire<br />Girls Series</div><br /> +By HILDEGARD G. FREY<br /> +———<br /> +A Series of Outdoor Stories for<br /> +Girls 12 to 16 Years.<br /> +<br /> +All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles<br /> + +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH<br /> +———<br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + +<div class='blockquot2'> +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; +or, The Winnebagos go Camping. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The +Wohelo Weavers. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, +The Magic Garden. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along +the Road That Leads the Way. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, +The House of the Open Door. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The +Trail of the Seven Cedars. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; +or, Glorify Work. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over +the Top with the Winnebagos. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, +The Christmas Adventure at Carver House. +</div> + +<div class='hang1'> +THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; +or, Down Paddles.<br /><br /><br /> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/5_bgs_ad.png" width="112" height="150" alt="The Blue Grass Seminary Girls in the Mountains" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The Blue Grass<br />Seminary Girls Series</div> +BY CAROLYN JUDSON BURNETT<br /> +————<br /> +For Girls 12 to 16 Years<br /> +All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH<br /> +————<br /> +Splendid stories of the Adventures<br /> +of a Group of Charming Girls.<br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + +<div class="blockquot2"><div class='hang1'>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' VACATION ADVENTURES; +or, Shirley Willing to the Rescue.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS' CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS; +or, A Four Weeks' Tour with the Glee Club.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS IN THE MOUNTAINS; +or, Shirley Willing on a Mission of Peace.</div> + +<div class='hang1'>THE BLUE GRASS SEMINARY GIRLS ON THE WATER; or, +Exciting Adventures on a Summerer's Cruise Through +the Panama Canal.</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/6_ms_ad.png" width="109" height="150" alt="Mildred at Home" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The Mildred Series</div> + +BY MARTHA FINLEY<br /> +————<br /> +For Girls 12 to 16 Years.<br /> +All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH<br /> +A Companion Series to the famous<br /> +"Elsie" books by the same author.<br /> +————<br /><br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Mildred books"> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED KEITH</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED AT ROSELAND</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED AND ELSIE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED AT HOME</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/7_rdb_ad.png" width="108" height="150" alt="The Radio Boys on the Mexican Border" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The<br />Radio Boys Series</div> + + +BY GERALD BRECKENRIDGE<br /> +<br /> +A new series of copyright titles for<br /> +boys of all ages.<br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='center'><br /><br /> +Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH<br /><br /><br /> +</div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Radio Boys Series"> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS ON THE MEXICAN BORDER</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS ON SECRET SERVICE DUTY</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS WITH THE REVENUE GUARDS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS' SEARCH FOR THE INCA'S TREASURE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS RESCUE THE LOST ALASKA EXPEDITION</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS IN DARKEST AFRICA</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RADIO BOYS SEEK THE LOST ATLANTIS<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/8_rgb_ad.png" width="107" height="150" alt="THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE " title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The<br />Ranger Boys<br />Series</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + +<div class='center'><br /> +BY CLAUDE H. LA BELLE<br /> +</div> + +<div class='blockquot2'><p>A new series of copyright titles telling of the +adventures of three boys with the Forest Rangers +in the state of Maine.</p></div> + +<div class='center'> +Handsome Cloth Binding.<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.<br /> +—————<br /><br /></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Ranger Boys Books"> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RANGER BOYS TO THE RESCUE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RANGER BOYS FIND THE HERMIT</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RANGER BOYS AND THE BORDER SMUGGLERS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RANGER BOYS OUTWIT THE TIMBER THIEVES</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE RANGER BOYS AND THEIR REWARD<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/9_bt_ad.png" width="106" height="150" alt="The BOY TROOPERS ON THE TRAIL" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The<br />Boy Troopers<br />Series</div> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<div class='center'><br /> +BY CLAIR W. HAYES<br /> +Author of the Famous "Boy Allies" Series.<br /> +<br /> + +The adventures of two boys with the Pennsylvania +State Police.<br /> + +<br /> +All Copyrighted Titles.<br /> +Cloth Bound, with Attractive Cover Designs.<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.<br /> +—————<br /><br /></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Boy Trooper series"> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BOY TROOPERS ON THE TRAIL</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BOY TROOPERS IN THE NORTHWEST</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BOY TROOPERS ON STRIKE DUTY</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE BOY TROOPERS AMONG THE WILD MOUNTAINEERS<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/10_gb_ad.png" width="106" height="150" alt="The Golden Boys In the Maine Woods" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The<br />Golden Boys<br />Series</div></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + + +<div class='center'><br /> +BY L. P. WYMAN, PH.D.<br /> +Dean of Pennsylvania Military College.<br /> + +<br /> +A new series of instructive copyright stories for +boys of High School Age. + +<br /> +Handsome Cloth Binding.<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH.<br /> +—————<br /><br /></div> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Golden Boys books"> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS AND THEIR NEW ELECTRIC CELL</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE FORTRESS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS IN THE MAINE WOODS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS WITH THE LUMBER JACKS</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS RESCUED BY RADIO</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS ALONG THE RIVER ALLAGASH</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>THE GOLDEN BOYS AT THE HAUNTED CAMP<br /><br /></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Book image and Series title"> +<tr><td align='center'><img src="images/11_jl_ad.png" width="112" height="150" alt="JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS" title="" /> +</td><td align='center'><div class='adtitle1'>The Jack<br />Lorimer Series</div> + +BY WINN STANDISH<br /> +———<br /> +For Boys 12 to 16 Years.<br /> +All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles<br /> +PRICE, 65 CENTS EACH<br /> +———<br /><br /> +</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER; or, The Young Athlete of Millvale +High.</b></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Jack Lorimer is a fine example of the all-around American +high-school boys. His fondness for clean, honest +sport of all kinds will strike a chord of sympathy among +athletic youths.<br /><br /></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>JACK LORIMER'S CHAMPIONS; or, Sports on Land and Lake.</b></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>There is a lively story woven in with the athletic achievements, +which are all right, since the book has been O.K'd. +by Chadwick, the Nestor of American Sporting journalism.<br /><br /></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>JACK LORIMER'S HOLIDAYS; or, Millvale High in Camp.</b></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>It would be well not to put this book into a boy's hands +until the chores are finished, otherwise they might be +neglected.<br /><br /></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>JACK LORIMER'S SUBSTITUTE; or, The Acting Captain of +the Team.</b></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling, +and tobogganing. There is a good deal of fun in this book +and plenty of action.<br /><br /></p></div> + + +<div class='hang1'><b>JACK LORIMER, FRESHMAN; or, From Millvale High to +Exmouth.</b></div> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Jack and some friends he makes crowd innumerable happenings +into an exciting freshman year at one of the leading +Eastern colleges. The book is typical of the American +college boy's life, and there is a lively story, interwoven +with feats on the gridiron, hockey, basketball and other +clean honest sports for which Jack Lorimer stands.<br /><br /></p></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/ad_line.png" width="500" height="23" alt="Dividing Line" title="" /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<span class='small'>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price</span><br /> +<span class='small'>by the Publishers</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class='big'><b>A. L. BURT COMPANY</b></span><br /> +<b>114-120 EAST 23rd STREET</b> <b>NEW YORK</b><br /> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> + +<p>Varied hyphenation was retained. This includes words such as sight-seeing and sightseeing.</p> +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired.</p> + +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Tripping with the Tucker Twins, by Nell Speed + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRIPPING WITH THE TUCKER TWINS *** + +***** This file should be named 36672-h.htm or 36672-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/6/7/36672/ + +Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, +Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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