CHAPTER IV
AN OURDAY
It was impossible to resist the infection of Mr. Maynard's gaygood-nature, and by the time breakfast was over, the children were intheir usual merry mood. Though an occasional glance out of the windowbrought a shadow to one face or another, it was quickly dispelled by thelaughter and gaiety within.
Marjorie was perhaps the most disappointed of them all, for it was herday, and she had set her heart on the picnic in the woods. But she triedto make the best of it, remembering that, after all, father would be athome all day, and that was a treat of itself.
After breakfast, Mr. Maynard led the way to the living-room, followed byhis half-hopeful brood. They all felt that something would be done tomake up for their lost pleasure, but it didn't seem as if it could beanything very nice.
Mr. Maynard looked out of the front window in silence for a moment, thensuddenly he turned and faced the children.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said; "do any of you know the story ofMahomet and the mountain?"
"No, sir," was the answer of every one, and Marjorie's spirits sank. Sheliked to hear her father tell stories sometimes, but it was a tameentertainment to take the place of a picnic, and Mahomet didn't soundlike an interesting subject, anyway.
Mr. Maynard's eyes twinkled.
"This is the story," he began; "sit down while I tell it to you."
With a little sigh Marjorie sat down on the sofa, and the othersfollowed her example. Rosy Posy, hugging Boffin, scrambled up into a bigarmchair, and settled herself to listen.
"It is an old story," went on Mr. Maynard, "and the point of it is thatif the mountain wouldn't come to Mahomet, Mahomet must needs go to themountain. But to-day I propose to reverse the story, and since you foursad, forlorn-looking Mahomets can't go to the picnic, why then, thepicnic must come to you. And here it is!"
As Mr. Maynard spoke--indeed he timed his words purposely--their owncarriage drove up to the front door, and, flying to the window, Marjoriesaw some children getting out of it. Though bundled up in raincoats andcaps, she soon recognized Gladys and Dick Fulton and Dorothy Adams.
In a moment they all met in the hall, and the laughter and shoutingeffectually banished the last trace of disappointment from the youngMaynards' faces.
"Did you come for the picnic?" said Marjorie to Gladys, in amazement.
"Yes; your father telephoned early this morning,--before breakfast,--andhe said the picnic would be in the house instead of in the woods. And hesent the carriage for us all."
"Great! Isn't it?" said Dick Fulton, as he helped his sister off withher mackintosh. "I thought there'd be no picnic, but here we are."
"Here we are, indeed!" said Mr. Maynard, who was helping Dorothy Adamsunwind an entangling veil, "and everybody as dry as a bone."
"Yes," said Dorothy, "the storm is awful, but in your close carriage,and with all these wraps, I couldn't get wet."
"Oh, isn't it fun!" cried Kitty, as she threw her arms around her dearfriend, Dorothy. "Are you to stay all day?"
"Yes, until six o'clock. Mr. Maynard says picnics always last untilsundown."
Back they all trooped to the big living-room, which presented a cheerfulaspect indeed. The rainy morning being chilly, an open fire in the amplefireplace threw out a cheerful blaze and warmth. Mrs. Maynard's pleasantface smiled brightly, as she welcomed each little guest, and afterwardshe excused herself, saying she had some household matters to attend toand that Mr. Maynard would take charge of the "picnic."
"First of all," said the host, as the children turned expectant facestoward him, "nobody is to say, 'What a pity it rained!' or anything likethat. Indeed, you are not to look out at the storm at all, unless yousay, 'How fortunate we are under cover!' or words to that effect."
"All right, sir," said Dick Fulton, "I agree. And I think a picnic inthe house will be dead loads of fun."
"That's the way to talk," said Mr. Maynard, "and now the picnic willbegin. The first part of it will be a nutting-party."
"Oho!" laughed Marjorie. "A nutting-party in the house is 'most toomuch! I don't see any trees;" and she looked around in mock dismay.
"Do you usually pick the nuts off of trees?" asked her father,quizzically. "You know you don't! You gather them after they havefallen. Now nuts have fallen all over this house, in every room, and allyou have to do is to gather them. Each may have a basket, and see whocan find the most. Scamper, now!"
While Mr. Maynard was talking, Sarah, the waitress, had come in,bringing seven pretty baskets of fancy wicker-ware. One was given toeach child, and off they ran in quest of nuts.
"Every room, Father?" called back Marjorie, over her shoulder.
"Every room," he replied, "except the kitchen. You must not go outthere to bother cook. She has all she can attend to."
This sounded pleasant, so Marjorie went on, only pausing for one morequestion.
"What kind of nuts, Father?"
"Gather any kind you see, my child. There was such a strong wind lastnight, I daresay it blew down all sorts."
And truly that seemed to be the case. Shrieks of surprise and delightfrom the whole seven announced the discoveries they made.
They found peanuts, English walnuts, pecan nuts, hazelnuts, Brazil nuts,almonds, hickory nuts, black walnuts, and some of which they didn't knowthe names.
The nuts were hidden in all sorts of places. Stuffed down in thecushions of chairs and sofas, on mantels and brackets, under rugs andfootstools, on window sills, on the floor, on the chandeliers, theyseemed to be everywhere. All over the house the children scampered,filling their baskets as they went.
Sometimes two would make a dash for the same nut, and two bumped headswould ensue, but this was looked upon as part of the fun.
The older children gathered their nuts from the highest places, leavingthe low places for the little ones to look into.
Rosy Posy found most of those on the floor, behind the lace curtains orportieres, as she toddled about with her basket on one arm and Boffin inthe other.
At last the whole house had been pretty thoroughly ransacked, and thenutting-party returned in triumph with loaded baskets.
"Did you look under the sofa pillows on the couch in this room?" saidMr. Maynard, gravely, and seven pairs of legs scampered for the couch.
Under its pillows they found three big _cocoanuts_, and Mr. Maynarddeclared that completed the hunt.
Meantime, the big, round table in the middle of the room had beencleared of its books and papers, and the children were directed to emptytheir baskets of nuts on the table, taking care that none should rolloff the edge. The seven basketsful were tumbled out, and a goodly heapthey made.
Then the seven sat round the table, and to each one was given a tinypair of candy tongs, such as comes with the confectioner's boxes.
"This is a new game," explained Mr. Maynard, "and it's called Jacknuts.It is played just the same as Jackstraws. Each, in turn, must take nutsfrom the heap with the tongs. If you jar or jostle another nut than theone you're taking away, it is then the next player's turn."
Of course they all knew how to play Jackstraws, so they understood atonce, but this was much more fun.
"The first ones are so easy, let's give Rosy Posy the first chance,"said Dick Fulton, and Mr. Maynard, with a nod of approval at the boy,agreed to this plan. So Rosy Posy, her fat little hand grasping the tinytongs, succeeded in getting nearly a dozen nuts into her basket.
As Dorothy Adams was not quite as old as Kitty, she took her turn next,and then all followed in accordance with their ages.
It was a fascinating game. Some of the little hazelnuts or the slenderpeanuts were easy to nip with the tongs, but the big English walnuts, orqueer-shaped Madeira nuts were very difficult. Great delicacy of touchwas necessary, and the children found the new game enthralling.
After her first turn Rosy Posy ran away from the game, and Mr. Maynardtook her place.
"Oho, Father," laughed Kitty, "I thought you'd get them all, but you'reno more s
uccessful at it than we are."
"No," said Mr. Maynard, looking with chagrin at his small heap of nuts,"my fingers are too old and stiff, I think."
"So are mine," said Marjorie, laughing.
"You're too fat, Dumpling," said her father. "Kitty's slim little clawsseem to do the best work."
"I think it's a steady hand that counts," said Dick; "watch me now!"
With great care, and very slowly, he picked off several nuts that weredaintily balanced on the other nuts, but at last he joggled one, and itwas King's turn.
"I believe in going fast," said King, and like a whirlwind he picked offfour nuts, one after the other. But his last one sent several othersflying, and so left an easy chance for Gladys, who came next.
"There's a prize for this game," announced Mr. Maynard, after the tablewas entirely cleared, and the nuts were again all in the seven baskets."In fact there's a prize apiece, all round. And the prizes are nuts, ofcourse. You may each have one."
"One nut!" cried Marjorie. "What a little prize!"
"Not so very little," said her father, smiling.
Then Sarah appeared with a plate of _doughnuts_, and everybody gladlytook a prize. A glass of milk went with each of these nuts, and then thechildren clamored to play the game all over again.
"No, indeed!" said Mr. Maynard. "You can play that any day in the year,but just now we're having a picnic, and the picnic must proceed with itsprogramme."
"All right!" cried Marjorie. "What comes next?"
"Crackers," said her father. "Bring them in, please, Sarah."
"Crackers!" exclaimed King. "I don't want any after that big doughnut."
"You must take one, though," said his father, "it's part of theprogramme."
Then Sarah came, and brought a big tray on which were threenutcrackers, some nutpicks, and several bowls and plates.
"Take a cracker, King," said Mr. Maynard, and the boy promptly took thebiggest nutcracker, ready to do the hardest work.
The girls took nutpicks and bowls, and Mr. Maynard and Dick Fulton tookthe other two nutcrackers, and then work began in earnest. But the workwas really play, and they all enjoyed cracking and picking out the nuts,though what they were doing it for nobody knew. But with so many at it,it was soon over, and the result was several bowlsful of kernels. Theshells were thrown into the fire, and Mr. Maynard directed that theseven empty baskets be set aside till later.
"We haven't cracked the cocoanuts yet," said Dick. "They're too big forthese nutcrackers."
"So they are," said Mr. Maynard. "Well, I'll tell you what we'll do.We'll take them to the dining-room and continue our nut game out there."
So each carried a bowl of nuts, or a cocoanut, and all went to thedining-room.
There the extension-table was spread out full length, and contained alot of things. On big sheets of white paper were piles of sifted sugar.Large empty bowls there were, and big spoons, and plates and dishesfilled with figs and dates, and oranges and all sorts of goodies.
"What's it all for?" said Marjorie. "It's too early for lunch, and toolate for breakfast."
"It's the rest of the nut game," said Mr. Maynard. "I am ProfessorNuttall, or Know-it-all; and I'm going to teach you children what I hopewill be a valuable accomplishment. Do any of you like candy?"
Replies of "We do," and "Yes, sir," came so emphatically that Mr.Maynard seemed satisfied with the answers.
"Well, then, we'll make some candy that shall be just the best ever!How's that?"
"Fine!" "Glorious!" "Goody, goody!" "Great!" "Oh, Father!" and "Ah!"came loudly from six young throats, and Mrs. Maynard and Rosy Posy cameto join the game.
Sarah came, too, bringing white aprons for everybody, boys and all, andthen Nurse Nannie appeared, and marched them off, two by two, to washtheir hands for the candy-making process.
Marjorie's Busy Days Page 4
