A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays

by Amy Ella Blanchard

  CHAPTER XII

  HOME AGAIN

  "Are you going all the way home with us?" Edna asked Ben as they leftthe boat at the wharf.

  "Yes, Mr. Ramsey thinks he should stay in New York for the day, and hashanded you over to my tender mercies, so if we can get a good train youwill be at home in a very few hours."

  "Now that we are so near I'm just crazy to get there," said Dorothy."Will they know exactly when we are coming, Ben?"

  "We can easily let them know either by telephone or telegraph."

  "I think I'd rather surprise them, wouldn't you, Edna?"

  "It won't be such a big surprise, for mother knows we are coming sometime to-day."

  "Then there is no use in sending word ahead," decided Dorothy. "Theywill be looking for us anyway."

  Just here Mr. Ramsey came up. "Well, young ladies," he said, "so youare going to leave me. I think this young man can be trusted to takecare of you the rest of the way, and I hope as soon as Jennie gets backyou will come in to see her. We have all enjoyed having you with us,and I hope you will feel perfectly at home in our house always."

  The little girls thanked him and said they had had a very happy timeand wouldn't he tell Jennie to come out to see them as soon as shereturned. So they parted, and then there was the rush of getting tothe train and the pleasant sense of knowing this was the last stageof their journey. Ben whiled away the time by asking them ridiculousconundrums which made them so hilarious that more than one fellowtraveller smiled in sympathy with their merry laughs.

  The more absurd the conundrums the better the children liked them, andthose that Ben made up as they went along pleased them best of all."When is a fence not a fence?" asked Ben and the answer was, "when it'san advertisement." "What would you do if company came and there were nomore tea in the teapot?" was the next question.

  "I'd send out for more tea," responded Dorothy.

  "What would you do, Ande?"

  "I don't know. What would you?"

  "I'd add hot water and serve just as the sign tells you to do."

  "But that means for soup."

  "Well, but it answers just as well for tea. Now, here is another onefor you. Suppose you couldn't get tea, what would you do?

  "I'd go without."

  "I wouldn't; I'd use Horlick's malted milk."

  "Oh, that is the sign just over there, isn't it? Too late, Dorothy,we've passed it."

  "Make up another, Ben," urged Dorothy.

  "Well, here goes. If I wanted to be sure of an intellectual meal, whatwould I do?"

  They guessed several things, but Ben shook his head at each answer. "Ithink it is a very hard one," declared Edna. "Intellectual is a hardword anyhow. You will have to tell us, Ben."

  "Give it up?"

  "Yes, I do; don't you, Dorrie?"

  "Yes, it is too hard for me."

  "Then this is the answer: I'd put my roasts through a course ofBrowning. I think that's pretty good myself. I shall have to salt itdown to ask your elders. I'll give you an easy one now. Why do theycall the man who drives the locomotive an engineer?"

  Edna finally guessed this. "Because he is near the engine," she said.

  "Good girl; go up head," cried Ben. "You seem to be improving. Now eachof you try to make up a limerick and I'll do the same."

  "Oh, we can't do that," objected Dorothy.

  "Yes, you can if you try. I will give you a model.

  There was a young person named Dorrie Who said to her comrade, 'I'm sorry I came on the train, But I'll do it again When Ben isn't with us to worry.'"

  The girls laughed at this and set themselves to work to producesomething of the same kind. After many attempts Edna gave this:

  "There was a young man named Benny Who said, 'Please give me a penny. Some peanuts I'll buy All nice and dry,' But he didn't give us children any."

  "That's not bad at all," said Ben laughing. "Did you mean that for ahint, and do you think I'd buy peanuts and keep them all to myself?"

  "Oh, no." Edna was shocked that he should think she really intended ahint. "I just had to make up something and that was the best I coulddo."

  "Oh, dear, I can't get my last line," complained Dorothy. "I've triedand tried and I can't find a rhyme for Barker and Parker. This as faras I can get:

  There was a young man named Barker Who stayed at the Hotel Parker And ate lots of rolls And drank from the bowls--

  I had to say bowls to make it rhyme, though I really meant cups, andthere I am stuck."

  Here Ben came to her rescue.

  "And drank from the bowls Until his complexion grew darker,"

  he added to the amusement of the girls.

  They kept up the limericks for some time, though Dorothy found it suchhard work that she finally refused to try any more, and Ben lookingat his watch decided it was time to go into the dining-car for dinner.This was a new experience and made a pleasant break in the monotony ofthe journey. By the time the meal was finished they were so near theirown station that the rest of the way seemed nothing at all. At thestation they had to change cars or else make the trip by the trolley.

  "Which shall we do?" asked Ben.

  "Which will get us there first?" asked Edna.

  "Let me see." Ben pulled out a time table. "There will be a train inhalf an hour. It is a pretty good one, and I think will get us thereabout five minutes ahead of the trolley. It's a choice between sittingin the station or going ahead on the trolley."

  "Which would you rather do?" Dorothy asked him.

  "I think perhaps the train will be better on account of the baggagewhich can go right through with us." So they sat down to wait tilltheir train should be called and found enough to amuse them in watchingthe people go and come.

  "It does look so natural," remarked Dorothy, when the train began tomove. "Just think, Edna, in a few days we shall be starting to schoolagain, and be coming this way every day."

  "And we shall be seeing Uncle Justus and Aunt Elizabeth and all thegirls. I wonder if we shall have as good times at the G. R. Club aswe did last year. We must go to see Margaret and Nettie very soon,Dorothy, for we shall have such heaps to tell them."

  "We shall want to tell our own families first."

  "Oh, of course. I wonder if Uncle Justus is still with the others onthe yacht. I never thought to ask Ben." She leaned over to speak to hercousin who was sitting directly in front and learned that Mr. Hornerhad left the yacht at Portland and had come home by rail from thatcity.

  "The old chap had a good time while he was with us," Ben told her, "andI think it limbered him up a lot."

  "Why, was he stiff from rheumatism like Cap'n Si?" asked Ednainnocently.

  Ben laughed. "No, he was stiff from eating too many ramrods."

  Edna knew this wasn't true, but she didn't ask any more questions justthen. The train was nearing the familiar station where they were to getoff. She wondered if Celia and the boys, or Celia and Agnes would bethere to meet them. She thought it very likely, as the family must knowthey would arrive about this time.

  But as the train moved off there was no sign of any of their friends."They didn't come after all," said Edna to Dorothy. "I wonder if theyknow Ben is with us?"

  "Why, how could they know. Did you tell them on the post-card you wrotefrom Boston, or the one you sent Celia from Concord?"

  "No. Did you say anything about it?"

  "Not a word."

  "Then that will be a sort of surprise, for even if they expect us theywon't expect Ben."

  It was not a very long walk from the station to the home of eitherlittle girl, though it had appeared long enough to Edna one evening thewinter before when she had been caught in a snow-storm.

  "I won't stop," said Dorothy, when they had reached Edna's gate. "I canscarcely wait to see mother."

  "I feel just that way," said Edna. "Will you come over this
evening?"

  "Maybe. I can't promise, for I shall hate to leave them all. You comeover."

  "But I shan't want to leave them all either. I reckon we'd better waittill to-morrow."

  "All right. Good-bye till then." And Dorothy started off at a run whileEdna and Ben turned in at the gate.

  How quiet it seemed! No one was on the porch, and the sound of theirvoices did not bring anyone down from upstairs. "I wonder where theyall are. I'll go up very softly and s'prise them," whispered Edna toBen, "and in a little while you come up and have another s'prise."Ben nodded understandingly and Edna crept softly up the stairs. Therewas no sound of voices anywhere. "They must all be asleep," the childmurmured, but as it was just about lunch time, that seemed to be ratheran unusual state of things. She went from room to room. Not a soul wasto be seen.

  "That is the funniest thing," said Edna disappointedly. "I wonder wherein the world everybody can be. Surely they could not be hiding," but tomake sure she looked in closets and even under the beds, then she wentslowly downstairs to Ben.

  "There isn't a soul anywhere," she told him. "Oh, Ben, I am sodreadfully disappointed. What do you suppose has become of everybody?"

  "Can't say, my dear. Have you interviewed the cook? I thought I heardsounds of life in the kitchen."

  "Why, of course I can ask her. I never thought of that." She flew tothe kitchen. "Oh, Lizzie," she cried, "where is everybody?"

  "Saints above!" cried Lizzie, "and where did ye come from all of asuddint like this?"

  "Why, we came out on the train!"

  "Not by yerself?"

  "No, Dorothy and Cousin Ben came with me."

  "Hear to that now. And didn't ye see the mother nor none of thim that'sgone to meet ye?"

  "Why, no! When did they go to meet us?"

  "This morning. Sure it was your mother that said, 'Thim children willbe gettin' in fair and airly and I'll just be goin' in to MistherRamsey's office and meet thim when they git there and bring thim rightalong with me.' Thin Miss Ceely speaks up and says, 'I'll be goin,'too.'"

  "But we didn't go to Mr. Ramsey's office. We left him in New York andCousin Ben Barker brought us on from there."

  "Did ye ever hear the likes of that now? She'll be as disappinted asyerself when she gets there and doesn't find ye."

  "Where are the boys?"

  "They're off too. When they learns that their mother was going to townthey says we'll go to one of the neighbors, I disremember which oneit was, but they says they won't be back to lunch, bein' as they don'tlike to ate without the ithers. Have ye had any lunch yerself, child?"

  "No, and neither has Cousin Ben."

  "Then, jest you kape quiet and I'll have ye a bite in three shakes.Run along in and tell Mr. Barker not to be oneasy, that he shall havesomething right away."

  Edna returned to Ben with her tale of cross purposes. "Do you supposemother will be worried when she gets to Mr. Ramsey's office and findswe haven't come?"

  "It is possible she might be. I reckon I'd better telephone in and tellthem that we have arrived and if Mrs. Conway comes to tell her we arehere. I'll call up your father, too."

  "Oh, that will be the very best thing to do."

  But Ben learned that Mrs. Conway had been to Mr. Ramsey's office, andnot finding her daughter had gone at once to her husband's office. Fromthis latter point it was learned that Mr. and Mrs. Conway and theirdaughter had just gone out to lunch. "Haven't been gone five minutes,"Ben was told. "Say to Mr. Conway when he comes in that his daughterEdna is at home," said Ben and then he hung up the receiver. "Can't getanyone of them," he told Edna, "but your father will hear where you areas soon as he gets back. In the meantime we'll have to make the best ofit."

  They made the best of it by eating the very good lunch which Lizzieprepared, and then Edna's trunk having arrived she set to work tounpack it, being glad to release Virginia from her long confinement.Next it seemed a good plan to hunt up her old dolls and introduce themto this lovely new sister.

  Ben, who had grown tired of waiting for his aunt and cousin, wentto the house of one of his friends, and after Edna had seen that allher children were in good condition she seated herself at one of thefront windows to watch for her mother. It seemed very funny that itshould be she who was watching for someone to come instead of someonewatching for her. She would not go to Dorothy's for fear she shouldmiss her mother and sister, and likewise for the reason that she feltit would be a very flat report she would have to make to Dorothy of herhomecoming.

  She sat for what seemed a long time, but at last her patience wasrewarded by seeing a group of four coming up the road, and as theydrew near she saw that it was not only her own mother and sister, butDorothy's likewise who had gone to town to meet the travelers.

  She could hardly wait to get down stairs, and she heard Celia'ssurprised voice say, "Why there she is now," and in another minute shewas in her mother's arms.

  "Why, you little rogue," cried Mrs. Conway, when the hugging andkissing had ceased. "You have certainly stolen a march on us all. Howdid you get here?"

  "Is Dorothy with you?" asked Mrs. Evans anxiously.

  "She isn't here with me, but she is at home," Edna made reply.

  "Oh, then, we must hurry along," said Mrs. Evans, and without waitingto hear more particulars she and her daughter Agnes hastened away.

  Then Mrs. Conway sat down and gathered Edna to her. "It is so nice tohave my baby again," she said. "I don't believe I can ever consent tolet her stay so long away another time. Now tell me all about it. Howdid you happen to get here so early and why didn't I find you at Mr.Ramsey's office as I expected?"

  "Did you expect to find us there?"

  "Why, certainly, Mrs. Ramsey wrote that you would come back with herhusband, and that you would arrive at about noon, so naturally I didn'texpect Mr. Ramsey to bring you all the way out here, besides his clerkstold me that he had not returned, but had telephoned from New York thathe would arrive this evening. So of course I thought you would not gethere till then."

  "And were you disappointed?"

  "Oh, I was indeed; but you haven't told me how you did get here."

  "Ben brought us."

  "Ben? Where is he?"

  "Oh, he was around a little while ago, but I reckon he got tired ofwaiting and went off somewhere; he will be back after a while."

  "But I don't understand yet. Where did you come across Ben?"

  "In Boston at the Old North Church; he was going in just as we weregoing out, and he stayed with us the rest of the time and we all cameon together; then when Mr. Ramsey found that Ben could come with us hesaid he thought he might as well stay in New York and attend to somebusiness and let us come on. Ben was going to telephone, but it wasjust as well he didn't."

  "It is all very clear now, and I can see that no one was to blame, forof course no one knew that we were going to meet you."

  "But, oh, Mother, it is so good to have you again," said Edna, givingher mother another squeeze. "I haven't kissed sister half enougheither." There was another season of hugging and kissing, and thenall went upstairs that Edna might show her new doll and present thelittle gifts she had bought at the bazar. Then Ben came in and therewere more explanations, and next the boys came rushing upstairs to giveboisterous bearlike hugs and to tell Edna she looked fine as silk, andso the hours went on till it was time for Mr. Conway to come and thatgave a new excitement and questioning and explaining.

  After all had been smoothed out Mr. Conway made the remark, "I sawUncle Justus this afternoon. He came into the office to ask if Edna hadarrived. He certainly is fond of the child."

  Then Edna told of how Uncle Justus gave up the sailing party on heraccount and of how gentle and kind he was.

  "Gee!" cried Charlie, "I should think you'd rather he would have gone."For Uncle Justus had never shown the boys his gentler side and theystood in great awe of him, scuttling out of sight whenever they saw himcoming.

  Everyone smiled at Charlie's speech, but Edna said gravely, "I l
oved tohave him stay. He took me in his lap and rocked me and we had a lovelytime."

  Charlie could scarcely believe this, but he said nothing and the talkwent on to other things. Edna and Ben were the center of interestthat evening, for when Edna was not telling something that went on atRamsey's, Ben was relating some of his yachting experiences. He wouldleave for his own home the next day, but would return later to take uphis studies at college, and, as last year, to spend the winter with hisaunt and cousins.

  It seemed warm and murky after the sharp fresh from the sea, and Edna,for all her excitement, was ready for bed early. Just as she was goingupstairs the telephone rang, and Celia answered. "Someone for you,Edna," she said, and Edna went to the 'phone.

  "Hallo, Edna," came Dorothy's familiar voice "I couldn't go to sleepwithout saying good-night to you. I thought I could but I couldn't. Areyou all right?"

  "Yes. Are you? Wasn't it funny that we didn't find anyone home when wegot here. Why didn't you come over?"

  "Why didn't you?" Then each heard a little giggle, for the same reasonwas in the mind of each.

  "Well, good-night. I kind of miss you, Edna," came Dorothy's finalwords.

  "And I kind of miss you. Good-night."

  There was no sound of murmuring waves on the beach, no Jennie in thenext room, and no Dorothy as bed-fellow, but instead there was themurmur of leaves making a pleasant song, there was Celia playing softlyon the piano, and best of all there was mother very near; so Ednaturned over with a sigh of content, glad that she was in her own home.

  THE END.