CHAPTER II
SUNNYCREST
At Hammersmith a big, old-fashioned carryall stood beside the stationplatform and behind it a light spring wagon, the two drivers standingside by side on the platform, watching the descending passengersanxiously. The older man was Joshua Adams, the head man on grandfather’sfarm. Grandmother always called him Joshua, but to every one else he wasJosh. His companion, Jo Perkins, a young stable boy familiarly known as“Perk,” was new on the place since the twins’ last visit, and they didnot know him. They eyed him curiously as they shook hands heartily withJoshua, who was an old and long-tried friend.
“My, my, you’ve growed sence I see ye,” exclaimed Joshua, standing thechildren off and looking at them in mock amazement. “Most big enough tobe giants in a side-show.”
“Oh, shucks,” said Christopher, squirming with embarrassment. “Has Junogot any new pups?”
“Well, you have growed, ’pon my word. Now I leave it to Miss Jane if youhaven’t. Hain’t you, Miss Jane? And you’re both of you dressed differentnow, so ’t I can tell ye apart,” he added teasingly.
Of course Joshua had seen the children many times since the dayChristopher had been promoted to trousers, but he never lost a chance ofreminding the boy that he had passed through a petticoat period.
Perk felt a little bit out of this intimate party. He stood awkwardly inthe background, fingering his hat and winking gravely at Christopherwhenever he caught his eye. Grandfather bustled up presently, followedby the station agent wheeling the trunks on a truck, which Perkproceeded to pile on the wagon. Joshua untied the team and mounted tothe front seat of the big carriage.
“Where’s Nelly Gray?” asked Jane, missing the gray mare with the whitestar on her forehead.
“Why, Nelly, she’s out to pastur’ for a while. Got a nail in her foot.”
“Oh, poor horsey! How it must have hurt! Did you get it out?”
“Why of course, greeney,” interposed Christopher knowingly, “else thehorse would have died, wouldn’t it, Josh?”
Jane climbed into the carriage and sat down opposite her grandparents,but Christopher hung back.
“I want to go on the wagon. Mayn’t I, please?”
“Oh, yes,” consented grandfather good-naturedly, “if you promise to sitstill and not ask to drive.”
Christopher avoided Jane’s reproachful look and capered off joyfully.Jane felt hurt at being deserted by her twin so soon, but she knew thatChristopher was anxious to make Perk’s acquaintance.
“I s’pose boys can’t help likin’ other boys a little,” she reflectedphilosophically, and hugged her doll comfortably.
In spite of her nine years and her brother’s teasing, Jane persisted inplaying with dolls and had a large, well-beloved family.
“Say, I’m going to ride home with you,” announced Christopher, climbingup on the high wagon seat. “Shall I hold the horse for you while youstrap on the trunks?”
“He’s hitched,” drawled Perk with a twinkle in his eye. “But I guess’twon’t hurt if you want to hold the lines.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice that he was tied,” said Christopher, a bitcrestfallen, and feeling his youth. “I’d like to drive,” he added withreviving spirit as Perk strapped on the last trunk and mounted to hisseat (swinging up over the wheel after the horse had started, toChristopher’s keen envy), “but grandfather said I mustn’t ask. But Icould. A friend of my father’s has an automobile and he let me steer itone day, oh, a long way.”
Perk was distinctly impressed by this statement and dropped some of thepatronage from his manner. Perk had never even seen an automobile.
As they drove down the length of the village street, Christopher was onthe lookout for changes. It was two years since he had visited inHammersmith, which left plenty of time for improvements. Each newbuilding or alteration had to be remarked upon to Perk, forChristopher’s tongue would never stay quiet. Jane declared once that itwagged in his sleep.
“I see somebody else has got the blacksmith’s forge. Mr. Parsons used torun it.”
“Yes, but Mr. Parsons is too tony now to shoe horses. He makes wagonsan’ keeps summer boarders.”
“Hello, Jones has got a partner. My, but they used to have goodsarsaparilla there,” exclaimed Christopher, smacking his lips.
“They do still,” answered Perk, smacking his.
“I’ll treat you some time. I’m to have fifteen cents a week pocket moneyall summer, an’ so’s Jane. Hi, there’s a new store. Say, it’s a dandy.”
“It’s a newspaper office up-stairs. Downstairs they have a store wherenothin’ costs more’n ten cents; and lots of things cost only five. Ain’tthat a queer sort of store?”
“Not so queer as I’ve seen. Why, they’ve got a store in the city whereeverything costs ninety-nine cents. My mother’d never let me buy there,but they had mighty pretty things in the windows. Painted plates andthings. Lots of people go there because they think it’s so much cheaperthan a dollar. Aren’t some people silly?”
They had turned out of the village by this time into the country roadwhich led to Sunnycrest.
“Do you play marbles?” asked Christopher, patting a bag of belovedalleys in his trousers pocket.
“Naw—that’s a kid’s game,” said Perk contemptuously. He was feeling atrifle sore over the fact that this boy, so much younger than he, hadridden in an automobile and had seen a ninety-nine-cent store.
Christopher withdrew his hand suddenly from his pocket.
“Yes, isn’t it?” he agreed quickly. Then, lest Perk should have heardthe rattle of the marbles he said carelessly: “I play with Janesometimes—to amuse her. And there’s a boy lives in our street thatcoaxes me to have a game with him once in a while. I do it to please him’cause he’s lame, but it never seems fair to play for keeps with him.He’s only eight and a half.”
Christopher hauled the bag of marbles out of his pocket and displayedthem indifferently, as if they were spoils. But all the time his heartthumped guiltily at the white lie he was acting, for up to the presentmoment he had loved the game of marbles and had looked upon it as amanly sport.
“Gee, did you win all them? They’re beauties,” exclaimed Perk inadmiration, transferring the reins to one hand in order to examine thedifferent marbles.
“No, not exactly all,” admitted Christopher, “some I had. And some Itraded,” he added, thrusting the bag back into his pocket.
“Hum. Want to swap knives?”
Christopher’s heart sank. His father had presented him with a verywonderful, five-bladed knife as a farewell gift. Christopher had noteven whittled with it yet. The idea of parting with it hurt. He drew itfrom his pocket with mingled pride and concern. He did not want toappear unmanly, but he was quite sure that Perk could have nothing halfso good to trade.
But Perk saw the value of the knife and was square enough to refuse totake any advantages. He admired it even more extravagantly than he haddone the marbles.
“Of course you don’t want to swap something that was a present,” hesaid. “’Twouldn’t be treating your daddy right.”
“You can borrow it whenever you want,” replied Christopher gratefully.
Presently Perk called Christopher’s attention to several flaming postersthat decorated the rail fences on either side of the road.
“There’s a circus comin’ to town next week,” he said. “Guess it’s goingto be a pretty good show.”
“Oh, what bully fun!” cried Christopher. “We know a little circus girl,”and he told the story of Letty and the bear. Together they studied thebills as they passed, comparing notes as to their opinion of thedifferent feats advertised and choosing which side-shows they would likebest to see.
This amiable conversation occupied them all the rest of the drive.
Sunnycrest was a big white house on the top of a ridge. In front, exceptfor a wide square of green lawn just before the house, the groundssloped so steeply that terraces had been made every few yards, and atthe botto
m ran a delightful little brook. At the bottom of the hill werethe farmhouse, barn, chicken and cow-houses and, where the brook curvedand ran through a shallow, cemented basin, the spring-house and dairy.Behind the house was a big orchard and beyond stretched fields of grainand hay.
Christopher jumped down from the wagon almost before it stopped andrushed into the kitchen where Jane’s bobbed head could be seen, toppedwith a big pink bow. Huldah the cook was another old and very dearfriend of the children’s.
“Hullo, Huldah. Got any ginger cakes?” shouted Christopher. “My stomachjust aches for one of your spiced ginger cakes. Haven’t had one for twoyears, you know.”
“I’m afraid your stomach will ache still more before you are through,”mildly observed grandmother, who had followed him in.
But she did not forbid his eating the cakes, even though supper wasalmost ready. That is one of the privileges of growing old enough to bea grandmother.
The two horses had brought the carriage home at a much quicker rate thanthe heavily loaded wagon could travel and Jane had already explored thewhole place in her quiet, energetic way. She had learned all the newsregarding live stock new and old and had petted all her favorites. Dorathe cat was specially friendly and Jane was convinced that the littleanimal remembered her from her former visit, two years before.
“I think that’s quite remarkable in a cat, don’t you, grandmother?” shesaid. “Now, if it was Juno, I shouldn’t be so surprised. Dogs alwaysremember people. But with cats, it’s different.”
There were no kittens at present, but Huldah described past familieswith much detail. She had kept a written account of the color and nameof each kitten and its fate. Most of the kittens had been given away ordisposed of in their early infancy. Some, grown to cat-hood, disportedthemselves about the stables with a serene indifference to the houseprivileges of their mamma, and with a keen taste for rats—certainly notinherited from her. Dora was far too aristocratic to care for any foodless appetizing than fresh milk and bits of cooked meat, cut into daintymorsels.
Juno had four new puppies, dear little fuzzy balls of fur; and therewere two new calves—with such thin wabbly legs and big, scared eyes—inthe barnyard. Six patiently setting hens promised dozens of fluffychicks before long, and a brood of ducklings swam in the stable pond.
Jane had taken in all these marvels and her little brain was busychoosing names for the new puppies while grandmother washed her face andtidied her hair for supper.
She gave Christopher the news as they munched ginger cakes together.Jane had not thought to ask for the cakes but when they came she atealmost as many as Christopher.
“The pups are awfully cunning,” she said patronizingly. “And I know justwhere Juno keeps them. I’ll take you to see them in the morning.”
“Huh, I can find them myself. I’m going now. And I choose to name two of’em.”
“They’re all named; every single one. And you can’t go to see them now,’cause supper’s ready.”
“Who named them, I’d like to know? If you did it don’t count, ’causeit’s not fair to go and name all four, without asking me.”
“If you choose to go off with a strange boy, how can I ask you? Thosepups are three weeks old and they just had to be named. They’re realnice names,” she added hastily, as Christopher made for the door.“They——”
“Kit, Kit,” called his grandmother, “go up-stairs and wash your hands.Supper is ready.”
“And waffles are no good when they have to stand,” added Huldahmeaningly.
This hint was enough to send Christopher at a flying leap up the frontstairs.
“I’ll show you the pups in the morning,” repeated Jane with exasperatingcalmness, following and watching his hasty ablutions from the bath-roomdoor.
“Humph!” answered Christopher with ingratitude, as he splashed the waterresentfully. “I guess I can find the pups easy enough—if I want to see’em. And I know something you don’t know. A circus is coming to townnext week, so there!”
“I did know it, but it’s not coming for two weeks. There’s a lovelyhorseback rider in it and grandfather said perhaps he’d take us,”replied Jane.
Then, carried away by the remembered charms of the circus posters, thetwins linked arms and ran down to supper, their slight disagreementalready forgotten.
Thus life settled down at Sunnycrest, happy and peaceful for the mostpart; always interesting but with now and then a little cloud ofdisappointment or regret overshadowing the sky of their sunnycontent—which, alas, is apt to be the way in life at every age.
Jane was rather sorry that Jo Perkins had come to work on the farm. Hetook Christopher away from her so often. To be sure there were a greatmany things that they could do all together; hunt for eggs, feed thechickens, milk the cows (for Jane and Christopher both learned to milk).But when Perk took Christopher fishing, Jane was not invited to go.Christopher soon developed into quite a sportsman, and begged hisgrandfather for a gun—Jane turned pale when she heard the request—toshoot some of the rabbits that ran so thick in the woods. But thisgrandfather positively refused to allow, nor would he permit Perk tocarry a gun when Christopher was with him. So the two boys were obligedto content their sporting taste with fishing-rods and angleworms.
Whenever she thought about it, Jane felt surprised and a bit hurt atthis ready abandonment of her by Christopher, but her own time was sofilled up before long that at times she hardly missed him. Her littlewoman’s soul took as thriftily to household duties as the boy’s instinctturned to sport. Huldah found her nimble fingers of real use in shellingpeas, beating eggs and sifting flour. Indeed, seldom had Huldah’s cakebeen so light, for in her zeal Jane sifted and resifted the flour andbeat the eggs to such a stiffness that it seemed as if they would haveto be broken up to stir into the batter, Huldah said.
But grandmother did not encourage indoor work to any great extent, andJane spent many blissful hours in the orchard with her family of dolls,always in sight of either grandmother’s or Huldah’s watchful eye. Foralthough the twins had reached the dignity of nine years, they wereseldom left to their own devices for long at a time. Grandfather andgrandmother felt their responsibility too strongly to take any risks,for had they not promised the anxious parents across the sea to take thebest of care of these precious children?
Jane was a motherly little body and extended her care of the doll familyto Juno’s family as well and Juno got into the habit of carrying thefour fluffy balls of fur out to the orchard, where they all had merryromps, rolling about together in the sun and shade.
But even with these diversions Jane might have grown lonely at timesduring Christopher’s more frequent and longer absences with Perk andBill Carpenter, a village boy, had not a new game been suggested to herby Mrs. Hartwell-Jones. Grandmother had called very promptly upon Mrs.Hartwell-Jones at her boarding-place in the village. The “lady who wrotebooks” had been so honestly disappointed that grandmother had notbrought the children too that Mrs. Baker promised to return with themthe very next day.
Jane was silent and a little awed, but Christopher was his usualcheerful, talkative self—with secret anticipations of another candy box.His hopes were not disappointed, for Mrs. Hartwell-Jones had planned fortheir visit and a regular “party” was spread forth, ice-cream,lady-fingers and chocolate drops all complete. Afterward she questionedthem about what they did all day, every day.
“I milk the cows,” said Christopher boastfully.
“I can milk too,” interposed Jane.
“And I go off in the fields with Perk. When grandfather can spare himfrom the work we go fishing.”
“How splendid! And what do you do, Janey dear, when Kit is off with hisrod?”
“Oh, I help Huldah make cake, and play in the orchard.”
“The orchard! What a fairy-land! May I play with you there some day whenI come to Sunnycrest?”
“Oh, would you like to?” asked Jane with big eyes. “It would besplendid!”
“We shall h
ave a fairies’ ball and you shall be queen.”
“Oh, oh! And the grape-vine swing will do for a throne. But perhaps youwould rather be queen,” added Jane politely.
“No, I’ll be master of ceremonies.”
They had the game before many more days, and it opened up a new world toJane who thereafter queened it royally in fairy-land, with the dolls forladies of honor and the birds and butterflies her royal messengers. Herfaith in the real fairies was firm and deep-rooted, the most ardentdesire of her life being to see one. She never confided this hope toChristopher and the new game was kept for her lonely hours whenChristopher was away with Jo Perkins or Bill Carpenter, with whichlatter boy his intimacy was growing.
Letty and the Twins Page 2
