CHAPTER V
A NOVEL PICNIC
But at last they were all ready to begin.
Mr. Maynard, in his position of teacher, insisted on absolute system andmethod, and everything was arranged with care and regularity.
"The first thing to learn in candy-making," he said, "is neatness; andthe second, accuracy."
"Why, Father," cried Dorothy, "I didn't know you knew how to makecandy!"
"I know more than you'd believe, to look at me. And now, if you fourgirls will each squeeze the juice of an orange into a cup, we'll begin."
Marjorie and Kitty and Gladys and Dorothy obeyed instructions exactly,and soon each was carefully breaking an egg, and still more carefullyseparating the white from the yolk.
Mrs. Maynard seemed to find plenty to do just waiting on the workers,and it was largely owing to her thoughtfulness that oranges and eggsand cups and spoons appeared when needed, almost as if by magic.
Meantime the two boys were working rapidly and carefully, too. Theygrated cocoanut and chocolate; they cut up figs and seeded dates; theychopped nuts and raisins; and they received admiring compliments fromMrs. Maynard for the satisfactory results of their work.
"Oh, isn't it fun!" exclaimed Marjorie, as she and Gladys were taught tomould the creamy, white _fondant_ they had made, into tiny balls. Someof these white balls the smaller girls pressed between two nut kernels,or into a split date; and others were to be made into chocolate creams.This last was a thrilling process, for it was not easy at first to dropthe white ball into the hot black chocolate, and remove it daintily witha silver fork, being most careful the while not to leave untidydrippings.
Cocoanut balls were made, and nougat, which was cut into cubes, andlovely, flat peanut sugar cakes.
The boys did all these things quite as well as the girls, and all,except Rosy Posy, worked with a will and really accomplished wonders.
Each was allowed to eat five finished candies of any sort and at anytime they chose, but they were on their honor not to eat more than five.
"Oh," sighed Marjorie, as she looked at the shining rows of goodies onplates and tins, "I'd like to eat a hundred!"
"You wouldn't want any luncheon, then," said her father. "And as it'snow noon, and as our candies are all done, I suggest that you allscamper away to some place where soap and water grow wild, and return assoon as possible, all tidy and neat for our picnic luncheon."
"Lunch time!" cried Gladys, in surprise. "It can't be! Why, we've onlybeen here a little while."
But it was half-past twelve, and for the first time that whole morningthe children looked out of the windows.
"It's still raining," said King, "and I'm glad of it. We're having morefun than at an outdoor picnic, _I_ think."
"So do I!" cried all the others, as they ran away upstairs.
Shortly after, seven very spick-and-span-looking children presentedthemselves in the lower hall. Curls had been brushed, hair-ribbonsfreshly tied, and even Boffin had a new blue ribbon round his neck.
"Now for the real picnic!" cried Mr. Maynard, as he led the way into theliving-room.
As Marjorie entered, she gave a shriek of delight, and turned to rushinto her father's arms.
"Oh, Daddy!" she cried. "You do beat the Dutch! What a lovely picnic!It's a million times better than going to the woods!"
"Especially on a day like this," said her father.
The others, too, gave exclamations of joy, and indeed that was smallwonder.
The whole room had _almost_ been turned into a woodland glen.
On the floor were spread some old green muslin curtains that had oncebeen used for private theatricals or something.
Round the walls stood all the palms and ferns and plants that belongedin other parts of the house, and these were enough to give quite anoutdoorsy look to the place.
To add to this, great branches of leaves were thrust behind sofas ortables. Some leaves were green and some had already turned to autumntints, so it was almost like a real wood.
Chairs and tables had been taken away, and to sit on, the children foundsome big logs of wood, like trunks of fallen trees, and some large, flatstones.
James, the coachman, and Thomas, the gardener, had been working at theroom all the time the children were making candy, and even now they werepeeping in at the windows to see the young people enjoying themselves.
In the middle of the room was what looked like a big, flat rock. As itwas covered with an old, gray rubber waterproof, it was probably anartificial rock, but it answered its purpose. Real stones, twigs,leaves, and even clumps of moss were all about on the green floor cloth,and overhead were the children's birds, which had been brought down fromthe playroom, and which sang gaily in honor of the occasion.
"Isn't it wonderful?" said Dorothy Adams, a little awed at thetransformation scene; "how did you do it, Mr. Maynard?"
"I told my children," he replied, "that since they couldn't go to thepicnic the picnic should come to them, and here it is."
Rosy Posy discovered a pile of hay in a corner, and plumped herselfdown upon it, still holding tightly her beloved Boffin.
Then James and Thomas came in carrying big, covered baskets.
"The picnic! The picnic!" cried Rosy Posy, to whom a picnic meantchiefly the feast thereof.
After the baskets were deposited on the ground near the flat rock, Jamesand Thomas went away, and none of the servants remained but NurseNannie, who would have gone to the picnic in the wood, and who wasneeded to look after little Rosamond.
"Now, my boys," said Mr. Maynard, "we must wait on ourselves, you know;and on the ladies. This is a real picnic."
Very willingly the boys fell upon the baskets, and soon had theircontents set out upon the big rocks.
Such shouts of delight as went up at sight of those contents!
And indeed it was fun!
No china dishes or linen napery, but wooden plates and Japanese papernapkins in true picnic style. Then while the girls set the viands inorder, the boys mended the fire in the big fireplace, and put potatoesin to roast. Mrs. Maynard had thoughtfully selected small potatoes, andso they were soon done, and with butter and pepper and salt they tastedexactly as roast potatoes do in the woods, and every one knows there isno better taste than that!
While the potatoes were roasting, too, the lemonade must be made. Mr.Maynard and Dick Fulton squeezed the lemons, while Kingdon volunteeredto go down to the spring for water.
This made great fun, for they all knew he only went to the kitchen, buthe returned with a pail of "cold spring water," and then Mrs. Maynardattended to the mixing of the lemonade.
The feast itself was found to include everything that had been asked forbeforehand.
Cold chicken, devilled eggs, sandwiches, lemon tarts, all were there,besides lots of other good things.
They all pretended, of course, that they were really in the woods.
"How blue the sky is to-day," said Mr. Maynard, looking upward, as hesat on a log, with a sandwich in one hand and a glass of lemonade in theother.
As the ceiling was papered in a design of white and gold, it requiredsome imagination to follow his remark, but they were all equal to it.
"Yes," said Marjorie, gazing intently skyward; "it's a beeyootiful day.But I see a slight cloud, as if it _might_ rain to-morrow."
"We need rain," said Mr. Maynard; "the country is drying up for the lackof it."
As it was still pouring steadily, this was very funny, and of coursethey all giggled.
Then King went on.
"The sun is so bright it hurts my eyes. I wish I had a pair of greenglasses to protect them."
"Or a parasol," said Gladys. "I'm sorry I left mine at home."
"What are we going to do at the picnic this afternoon, Father?" askedKitty.
"I thought we'd fly kites," said Mr. Maynard, "but there isn't a breathof air stirring, so we can't."
The wind was blowing a perfect gale, so this made them all laugh again,and Gladys said to
Marjorie, "I do think your father is the _funniest_man!"
At last the more substantial part of the luncheon was over, and it wastime for the ice-cream.
The freezer was brought right into the picnic ground, and Kingdon andDick were asked to dig the ice-cream out with a big wooden spoon, justas they always did at picnics. The heaps of pink and white delight, onfresh pasteboard plates, were passed around, and were eaten by thosesurprising children with as much relish as if they hadn't just consumedseveral basketsful of other things.
Then the candies were brought in, but, strange to say, nobody cared muchfor any just then.
So Mrs. Maynard had the seven pretty fancy baskets, that they hadgathered nuts in, brought back, and each child was allowed to fill abasket with the pretty candies.
These were set away until the picnic was over, when they were to betaken home as souvenirs.
Luncheon over, Mr. Maynard decreed that the picnickers needn't do thecleaning away, as that couldn't be done by merely throwing away thingsas they did in the woods.
So Sarah came in to tidy up the room, and Mr. Maynard seated his wholeparty on the big logs and stones, while he told them stories.
The stories were well worth listening to, and though Rosy Posy fellasleep, the others listened breathlessly to the tales which were told ina truly dramatic fashion. But after an hour or so of this, Mr. Maynardsuddenly declared that the picnic was becoming too quiet.
"I wanted you all to sit still for a while after your hearty luncheon,"he said, "but now you need exercise. Shall we play 'Still Pond'?"
A howl of glee greeted this suggestion, for Still Pond in the house wasusually a forbidden game.
As you probably know, it is like Blindman's Buff, only the ones who arenot blinded may not move.
Marjorie was "It" first, and after being carefully blindfolded by herfather, she stood still in the middle of the floor and counted ten veryslowly. While she did this, the others placed themselves behind tablesor chairs, or wherever they felt safe from the blindfolded pursuer.
"Ten!" cried Marjorie, at last. "Still Pond! No moving!"
This was a signal for perfect quiet; any one moving after that had to be"It" in turn.
No sound was heard, so Marjorie felt her way cautiously about until sheshould catch some one. It was hard for the others not to laugh as shenarrowly escaped touching Kingdon's head above the back of the sofa, andalmost caught Kitty's foot as it swung from a table. But at last shecaught her father, who was on the floor covered up with an afghan, andso Mr. Maynard was "It" in his turn.
It was a rollicking game, and a very exciting one, and, as often was thecase, it soon merged into Blindman's Buff. This was even more rompingand noisy, and soon the picnic sounded like Pandemonium let loose.
"Good!" cried Mr. Maynard, as he looked at the red, laughing faces, andmoist, tumbled curls. "You look just like a lot of healthy, happy boysand girls should look, but that's enough of that. Now, we'll sit down ina circle, and play quiet games."
Again the group occupied the logs and stones, ottomans and sofa cushionsif they preferred, and they played guessing games selected by each inturn.
When it was Mr. Maynard's turn, he said he would teach them the game ofthe Popular Picnic. He began by telling them they must each in turnrepeat what he himself should say.
Turning to Kingdon, he said, "To-day I have been to the Popular Picnic."
So Kingdon said to Dick, "To-day I have been to the Popular Picnic."
Then Dick said it to Marjorie, and Marjorie to Gladys, and so on allround the circle.
Then Mr. Maynard said, gravely: "To-day I have been to the PopularPicnic. Merry, madcap Mopsy Midget was there."
This was repeated all round, and then to the lingo Mr. Maynard added,"Kicking, kinky-legged Kingdon was there."
This, after the other, was not so easy, but they all repeated it.
Next came, "Dear, dainty, do-little Dorothy was there."
This made them laugh, but they said it safely all round.
Then, "Delightful, dangerous, Deadwood Dick was there."
They had to help each other this time, but not one of them would give upthe game.
"Gay, gregarious, giggling Gladys was there."
Gladys was indeed giggling, but so were all the others. Still they werea determined lot, and each time round each one repeated all the sets ofnames, amid the laughing of the others.
"Kind-hearted, Kindergarten Kitty," was an easy one, but when the listwound up with "Rollicking Rufflecumtuffle Rosy Posy," the game ended ina gale of laughter.
But they remembered many of the funny phrases, and often called eachother by them afterward.
"Now," said Mr. Maynard, "we'll play something less wearing on theintellect. This is called the motor-car game, and you must all sit in arow. Kingdon, you're the chauffeur, and when chauffeur is mentioned, youmust make a 'chuff-chuff' sound like starting the machine. Dick, you'rethe tire, and when tire is said, you must make a fearful report like anexplosion of a bursting tire. Dorothy, you're the number, and whennumber is mentioned, you must say six-three-nine-nine-seven."
"What am I, Father?" said impatient Kitty.
"Oh, you're the man that they run over, and you must groan and scream.Marjorie, you're the speed limit, and you must cry, 'Whiz! Zip!!_Whizz!!!_' Gladys, you're the dust. All you have to do is to fly aboutand wave your arms and hands, and sneeze. Rosy Posy, baby, you're thehorn. Whenever father says _horn_, you must say 'Toot, toot!' Will you?"
"Ess. Me play game booful, me an' Boffin; we say, 'Toot, toot!'"
"Now," went on Mr. Maynard, "I'll tell the story and when any of you arementioned you must do your part. Then if I say automobile, you must alldo your parts at once. Ready now: Well, this morning I started out for aride and first thing I knew my tire burst."
A fearful "Plop!" from Dick startled them all, and then the game wenton.
"I feared I was exceeding the speed-limit [much puffing and whizzingfrom Marjorie], and as I looked back through the dust [great cloud ofdust represented by Gladys' pantomime] I saw I had run over a man!"
The awful groans and wails from Kitty were so realistic that Mr. Maynardhimself shook with laughter.
"I sounded my horn----"
"Tooty-toot-toot!" said Rosy Posy, after being prompted by Kingdon.
"But as I was my own chauffeur"--here Kingdon's representation of astarting motor quite drowned the speaker's voice--"I hastened on beforethey could even get my number."
"Eight-six-eleven-nine," cried Dorothy, quite forgetting the numbers shehad been told. But nobody minded it, for just then Mr. Maynard said,"And so I went home with my automobile."
At this everybody turned up at once, and the dust cloud flew about, andthe man who was run over groaned fearfully, and tires burst one afteranother, and the horn tooted, until Mr. Maynard was really obliged tocry for mercy, and the game was at an end.
The afternoon, too, was nearly at an end, and so quickly had it flownthat nobody could believe it was almost six o'clock!
But it was, and it was time for the picnic to break up, and for thelittle guests to go home. It had stopped raining, but was still dull andwet, so the raincoats were donned again, and, with their beautifulbaskets of candies wrapped in protecting tissue papers, Gladys andDorothy and Dick clambered into Mr. Maynard's carriage and were drivento their homes.
"Good-bye!" they called, as they drove away. "Good-bye, all! We've had a_lovely_ time!"
"Lovely? I should say so!" said Marjorie, who was clinging to herfather's arm. "It's been the very best Ourday ever, and I'm _so_ glad itrained!"
"My prophecy has come true!" declared Mr. Maynard, striking a dramaticattitude. "Only this morning I prognosticated you'd say that, andyou----"
"And I didn't see how it could be possible," agreed Marjorie, waggingher head, wisely. "I know it. But you made it possible, you beautiful,dear, smart, clever, sweet father, you, and I've had just the elegantesttime!"
"When it's my turn, I shall choose a pi
cnic in the house," said Kitty.
"Not unless it's a rainy day," said her father. "I've enjoyed the day,too, but I can tell you it's no joke to get up this kind of a picnic.Why, I was telephoning and sending errands for two hours before youkiddies were awake this morning."
"Dear Daddy," said Marjorie, caressing his hand in both her own, "youare _so_ good to us; and I _do_ hope it will rain next Ourday!"
"So do I!" said all the others.
Marjorie's Busy Days Page 5
