The Little Colonel's Holidays

by Annie F. Johnston

  CHAPTER X.

  HOME-LESSONS AND JACK-O'-LANTERNS.

  IT was hard for the Little Colonel to start back to school after herlong holiday. Hard, in the first place, because she was a month behindher classes, and had extra home-lessons to learn. Hard, in the secondplace, because a more gorgeous October had never been known in theValley, and all out-doors called to her to come and play. In the lanesthe sumach flamed crimson, and in the avenues the maples turned gold. Inthe woods, where the nuts were dropping all day long, the dogwood-treeshung out their coral berries, and every beech and sweet gum put on aglory of its own.

  "Oh, mothah, I can't study," Lloyd declared one afternoon. "I don't carewhethah the Amazon Rivah rises in South America or the South Pole; an' Ithink those old Mexicans were horrid to give their volcanoes an' thingssuch terrible long names. They ought to have thought about the troublethey were makin' for all the poah children in the world who would haveto learn to spell them. I nevah can learn Popocatepetl. Why didn't theycall it something easy, like--like Crosspatch!" she added, closing herbook with a bang. "That's the way it makes me feel, anyhow. It is goingto take all afternoon to get this one lesson."

  "THE PLAN WORKED LIKE A CHARM."]

  "Not if you put your mind on it. Your lips have been saying it over andover, but your thoughts seem to be miles away."

  "But everything interrupts me," complained Lloyd. "The bumble-bees an'the woodpeckahs an' the jay-birds are all a-callin'. I'm goin' in thehouse an' sit on the stair steps an' put my fingahs in my yeahs. Maybe Ican study bettah that way."

  The plan worked like a charm. In less than ten minutes she was backagain, glibly reciting her geography lesson. After that all herhome-lessons were learned on the stairs, where no out-door sights andsounds could arrest her attention.

  She was in the midst of her lessons one afternoon, her book open on herknees, and her hands over her ears, when she felt, rather than heard,the jar of a heavy chair drawn across the porch. Dropping her hands fromher ears, she heard her mother say: "Take this rocker, Allison. I'm soglad you have come. I have been wishing that you would allafternoon."

  "Oh, it is Miss Allison MacIntyre!" thought Lloyd. "I wish I didn't haveto study while she is heah. I love to listen to her talk."

  Thinking to get through as soon as possible, she turned her attentionresolutely to her book, but, after a few moments, she could not resiststopping to lift her head and listen, just to find out what subject theywere discussing. Although Miss Allison was her mother's friend, Lloydclaimed her as her own especial property. But all children did that.Such was the charming interest with which she entered into comradeshipwith every boy and girl in the Valley, that they counted her one ofthemselves. A party without Miss Allison was not to be thought of, and apicnic was sure to be a failure unless she was one of the number.

  The two little knights, Keith and Malcolm, were privileged, by reason offamily ties, to call her auntie, but there were many like Lloyd who puther on a pedestal in their affections, and claimed a kinship almost asdear. Presently Lloyd caught a word that made her prick up her ears, andshe leaned forward, listening eagerly.

  "Sister Mary's children are coming out next Saturday. I was lying awakelast night, wondering what I could do to entertain them, when it poppedinto my head that Saturday will be the last day of October, and ofcourse they'll want to celebrate Hallowe'en."

  "Sister Mary's children," repeated Lloyd to herself, with a puzzledexpression, that suddenly turned to one of joyful recollection. "Oh, shemeans the little Waltons! I wondah how long they've been back inAmerica?"

  Her geography slipped unnoticed to the floor, as she sat thinking of herold playmates, whom she had not seen since their departure for thePhilippines, and wondering if they had changed much in their longabsence. There were four of them, Ranald (she remembered that he must befourteen now, counting by his cousin Malcolm's age) and his threeyounger sisters, Allison, Kitty, and Elise. Some of the happiest daysthat Lloyd could remember had been the ones spent with them in the bigtent pitched on the MacIntyre lawn; for no matter how far west was thearmy post at which their father happened to be stationed, they had beenbrought back every summer to visit their grandmother in the old Kentuckyhome.

  Lloyd had not seen them since their father had been made a general, andthey had gone away on the transport to the strange new life in thePhilippines. Although many interesting letters were sent back to theValley, in which the whole neighbourhood was interested, it happenedthat Lloyd had never heard any of them read. Her old playmates seemed tohave dropped completely out of her life, until one sad day when thecountry hung its flags at half-mast, and the black head-lines in everynewspaper in the land announced the loss of a nation's hero.

  Lloyd remembered how strange it seemed to read the account, and know itwas Ranald's father who was meant. She thought of them often in theweeks that followed, for Papa Jack could not pick up a newspaper withoutreading some touching tribute to the brave general's memory, somebeautiful eulogy on his heroic life, but somehow the strange experiencesher little playmates were passing through seemed to set them apart fromother children in Lloyd's imagination, and she thought of them as peoplein a book, instead of children she had romped with through many a longsummer day.

  As she listened to the voice on the porch she found that Miss Allisonwas talking about her sister, and telling some of the interesting thingsthat had happened to the children in Manila. It was more than theLittle Colonel could endure, to sit in the house and hear only snatchesof conversation.

  "Oh, mothah, _please_ let me come out and listen," she begged. "I'llstudy to-night instead, if you will. I'll learn two sets of lessons ifyou'll let me put it off just this once." There was a laughing consentgiven, and the next moment Lloyd was seated on a low stool at MissAllison's feet, looking up into her face with an expectant smile, readyfor every word that might fall from her lips.

  "I was telling your mother about Ranald," began Miss Allison. "She askedme how it came about that such a little fellow was made captain in thearmy."

  "Oh, was he a _really_ captain?" cried Lloyd, in surprise. "I thought itwas just a nickname like mine that they gave him, because his father wasa general."

  "No, he was really a captain, the youngest in the army of the UnitedStates Volunteers, for he received his appointment and hisshoulder-straps a few weeks before his twelfth birthday. He'll neverforget that Fourth of July if he lives to be a hundred; for thoseshoulder-straps meant more to him than all the noise and sky-rockets andpowder-burns of all the boys in America put together. You see he hadbeen under fire at the battle of San Pedro Macati. He had gone out withhis father, a short time after they landed in Manila, and the general incommand invited them out on the firing line. Before they realised theirperil, they suddenly found themselves under a sharp fire from the enemy.One of the staff said afterward that he had never seen greater coolnessin the face of as great danger, and all the officers praised hisself-possession. For a little while the bullets whizzed around him thickand fast. One hit the ground between his feet. Another grazed his hat,but all he said as one hummed by was, 'Oh, papa, did you see that? Itlooked like a hop-toad.'

  "It was a terrible sight for a child's eyes, for he saw war in all itshorrors, and his mother did not want him to take the risks of any morebattle-fields, but he was a true soldier's son, and insisted onfollowing his father wherever it was possible for him to go. At thebattle of Zapote River he was in no danger, for he had been put in achurch tower overlooking the field. But that was a terrible ordeal, forall day long he stood by the window, expecting any minute to see hisfather fall. All day long he looked for him, towering above his men, andwhenever he lost sight of him for awhile, he leaned out to watch thelitters the men were carrying into the church below where they broughtthe dead and dying. It was always with the sickening dread that thestill figure on some one of them might be that of his beloved father.Sister Mary sent me a copy of the official announcement, that gave himthe rank of captain. It mentions his coolness under fir
e. You mayimagine I am quite proud of that little document, for I always think ofRanald as he was when I had him with me most, a sensitive little fellowwith golden curls and big brown eyes, as silent and reserved as hisfather. You see I know that his courage has no element of daringrecklessness. So many things he did showed that, even when he was ababy. It is just quiet grit that takes him through the things thathardier boys might court. That, and his strong will.

  "At first he was appointed aide-de-camp on his father's staff, and wentwith him on all his expeditions, and rode on a dear little Filipinopony. The natives called him the Pickaninny Captain. He was under fireagain at the capture of Calamba, and soon after he was made an aide onGen. Fred. Grant's staff. Once while under him he was ordered back incharge of some insurgents' guns that had fallen into the hands of theAmericans, to be turned in at headquarters. So you see he was a'really' captain as you called him."

  "Oh, tell some more, Miss Allison," begged Lloyd, thinking that thesubject might be dropped, when Miss Allison paused for a moment.

  "Well, I hardly know what else to tell. His room is full of relics andtrophies he brought home with him,--shells and bullets and bolos--greatsavage knives with zigzag two-edged blades--flags, curios,--all sorts ofthings that he picked up or that the officers gave him. His mother cantell you volumes of interesting experiences he has had, but he is as shyand modest as ever about his own affairs, and maybe he'll never speak ofthem. He'll tell you possibly of the deer which the English consul gavehim, and the pet monkey that followed him everywhere, even when it hadto swim out through a rice swamp after him; maybe he'll mention theFilipino pony that the officers gave him when he came back to America,but he rarely speaks of those graver experiences, those scenes of battleand bloodshed."

  "It doesn't seem possible that it is Ranald who has seen and done allthose things," said the Little Colonel, thoughtfully. "When you playwith people and fuss with them, and slap their faces when they pull yourhair, or throw away their marbles when they break your dolls, as wedid, when we were little, it seems so queah to think of them bein'_heroes_."

  Miss Allison laughed heartily. "That's a universal trouble," she said."We never can be heroes to our family and neighbours. Even brass buttonsand shoulder-straps cannot outshine the memory of early hair-pullings."

  "Tell about the girls," said Lloyd, fearing that if a pause were allowedin the conversation Miss Allison would begin talking about somethingless entertaining than her nephew and nieces. "Do they still love toplay papah dolls and have tableaux in the barn?"

  "Yes, I am sure they do. They didn't have as exciting a time as Ranald,for of course they stayed at home with their mother in the palace atManila. But it was interesting. It had queer windows of little slidingsquares of mother-of-pearl, that were shut only when it rained. Theycould peep through and see the coolies in their capes and skirts ofcocoa-nut fibre, and the big hats, like inverted baskets, that made themlook as if they had stepped out of Robinson Crusoe's story.

  "On one side of the palace was the Pasig River, where the natives go byin their long skiffs. On the other side were the sights of the streets.Sometimes it was only an old peanut vendor whom they watched, or a manwith fruit or boiled eggs or shrimps or dulce. Sometimes it was theseller of parched corn, squatting beside the earthen pot of embers whichhe constantly fanned, as he turned the ears laid across it to roast. Andsometimes the ambulances went by on their way to the hospital, remindingthem that life on the island was not a happy play-day for every one. Iam sure that the Lady of Shalott never saw more entertaining pictures inher magic mirror than the panorama that daily passed those windows ofmother-of-pearl.

  "Time never dragged there, you may be sure. Sometimes they were invitedto spend an afternoon on the English war-ship, and the young officersgave them a spread and a romp over the ship. Allison still keeps an oldhat with the ship's ribbon on it for a hat-band, which a gallant littlemidshipman gave her to remind her of the good times they had hadtogether on the vessel. The English consul and vice-consul frequentlyinvited them to tiffin or to parties, and their garden of monkeys wasopen to their little American neighbours at all times.

  "Coming home the transport stopped in a Japanese harbour for a week. Thefaithful old Japanese servants, Fuzzi and her husband, who had livedwith them in California and followed them to the Philippines, were withthem on the transport. This place where they stopped happened to betheir native town, so they took the children on land every day and gavethem a glimpse behind the scenes of Japanese life, which few foreignerssee.

  "Then Allison had a birthday, while they were homeward bound, away outin the middle of the Pacific, and the ship's cook surprised her bymaking her a magnificent birthday cake with her name on it in icing. Oh,they've had all sorts of unusual experiences, and many, no doubt, that Ihave never heard of, although they have been back in America a year. Butnow that they have taken a house in town I expect to have them with me agreat deal. And that brings me to the matter I came up to see you bothabout. They are coming out Saturday, and I want you to help me give thema Hallowe'en party."

  "Another holiday!" exclaimed Lloyd, clapping her hands. "I had forgottenthat there was anything to celebrate between Fourth of July andThanksgiving. I never went to a Hallowe'en party in my life, but itsounds as if it would be lots of fun."

  "Do you remember the old house at Hartwell Hollow that has been vacantso long?" asked Miss Allison. "The coloured people say it is haunted.Of course we do not believe such foolish things, or any of thefoolishness of Hallowe'en in fact, but as long as we're going toresurrect the old superstitions, it is appropriate to have a hauntedhouse for the purpose. The landlord says that it is that report whichkeeps it vacant. I saw him this morning, and got his permission to useit for the party. I think we can make an ideal spot of it. I'll have itswept and cleaned, and on Saturday afternoon I want you both to come andhelp me decorate it."

  "Of course the only lights must be Jack-o'-lanterns," said Mrs. Sherman,entering into the plan as heartily as if she had been Lloyd's age. "Thecorn-field is full of pumpkins. Walker can make lanterns all day ifnecessary. It will take nearly a hundred, will it not, Allison?"

  "I think so, although we will light only the down-stairs rooms, butthere ought to be some large ones on the porches. We'll try all the oldcharms that we tried when we were children; bake a fate cake, melt lead,bob for apples, and observe every silly old custom that we can think of.The house is unfurnished except for an old stove in the kitchen, but Ican easily send over enough tables and chairs."

  Miss Allison went away soon, after they had finished all their plans,and Lloyd stood looking after her as long as she was in sight.

  "How can I wait until Saturday?" she asked, with a wriggle ofimpatience. "I'm so glad she asked us to help. Getting ready for thingsis nearly as much fun as the things themselves. But Hallowe'en pahtiesand home-lessons don't mix very well. I'll be thinking about that now,instead of my lessons. Oh, mothah, it seems to me I nevah can learn tospell that old volcano. I knew how last week, but I missed it againyestahday when we had review in spelling."

  "I have thought of a way to mix Hallowe'en and home-lessons in such away that you will never forget one word, at least," said her mother."Tell Walker to bring the largest, roundest pumpkin that he can find inthe field, and put it on the bench by the spring-house. Call me when heis ready."

  Wondering what pumpkins and volcanoes had to do with each other, butcharmed with the novelty of her mother's way of teaching spelling, Lloydwent skipping down the path to give the order to Walker. It was only alittle while until she was back again.

  "It is the biggest pumpkin I evah saw," she reported. "It was too bigfo' Walkah to carry. He had to bring it up on a wheelbarrow."

  Taking a carving-knife as she passed through the kitchen, Mrs. Shermancaught up her dainty skirts and followed Lloyd down the path to thespring-house. It was late in the afternoon and a touch of frost was inthe air. The yellow maple leaves were floating softly down from thebranches above the path, and whereve
r the sun touched them on the groundlay a carpet of shining gold.

  "See, mothah, isn't it a whoppah?" cried Lloyd, trying to put her armsaround the mammoth pumpkin on the bench. "It is a beauty," answered Mrs.Sherman, as she began deftly outlining a face on one side of it, withthe sharp carving-knife. First she drew two large circles in the yellowskin where the eyes were to be cut, a triangle for the nose, and agrinning crescent just below for the mouth.

  "Now," she said, passing the knife to Lloyd, "carve the letters P-O ineach circle. It does not matter if they are crooked. They are to be cutout with the circle afterwhile. Now in the triangle put the word CAT andthe letter E after it, and in the crescent the word PET and the letterL. Now what does the face say to you?"

  "The eyes say popo, the nose cat-e and the mouth pet-l," answeredLloyd, laughing at the comical face outlined on the pumpkin.

  "Shut your eyes and spell Popocatepetl," said Mrs. Sherman.

  "Why, it is just as easy," cried Lloyd, as she rattled it off. "I cansee each syllable grinning at me, one aftah the othah. I am suah I'llnevah fo'get it now. I like your way of teaching, bettah thananybody's."

  Presently, as she scooped out the seeds while her mother made a mandarinhat of the slice she had cut off below the stem, she said, "OldPopocatepetl will make the biggest Jack-o'-lantern of them all. It's agood name for him, too, because he'll be all smoke and fiah inside aftahthe candles are lighted. We can put him ovah the front doah. I wondahwhat Allison and Kitty and Elise will think of him. Oh, mothah, do youremembah the time that Kitty set all the clocks and watches in the houseback a whole hour and made everybody late fo' church? And the time shefolded a grasshoppah up in everybody's napkin, the night the ministahwas invited to Mrs. MacIntyre's to dinnah, and what a mighty hoppin'there was as soon as the napkins were unfolded?"

  Once started on Kitty's pranks, Lloyd went on with a chapter of don'tyou remember this and don't you remember that, until the sun went downbehind the western hills and old Popocatepetl grinned in uglycompleteness even to the last tooth in his wide-spread jaw.