CHAPTER XIII
HUMILITY, CALVES AND GINGER POP
MRS. SCOLLARD lost no time in following Laura from her Waterloo. Sheand Happie hurried out of the chapel and down the road, leaving the Arkboys to carry out their hastily-laid plan of helping the Crestvilleboys to turn the occasion which Laura had meant should be so improvinginto an old-fashioned frolic, worthy the Day We Celebrate. But thoughMrs. Scollard and Happie made their best pace down the road, Laura wasnowhere in sight all the way, and when they reached the house there wasstill no trace of her. A window was open into the kitchen; if she werein the house, Laura must have climbed in that way, for her mother andMiss Bradbury had both keys.
Mrs. Scollard put hers into the lock with many misgivings. Her heartsmote her for having let Laura go on to certain defeat; it might be--itwould be--good for her in the end, but it was hard for the mother togive over the foolish child to discipline, and she yearned over her inher present mortification which must be cruelly hard to bear.
Inside the house everything was dark and quiet. Mrs. Scollard andHappie called Laura, but there was no reply.
Striking a light they looked through the rooms on the lower floor, butfound only Jeunesse Doree, who came out stretching and purring, tellingHappie that he had slept during his family's absence not to waste time,and was now entirely at her disposal for a romp.
There was no Laura, and when the search was continued up-stairs it wasnot more successful.
Miss Bradbury came home with Rosie and Penny, leaving Polly under theboys' protection to see the fun, and found mother and daughter muchperturbed. Rosie took the situation calmly.
"She hain't lost," she said, removing Penny's hat and rather tightlittle coat, for Penny was growing fast. "She's hidin' somewheres;she's too sore to want to face a cat. She'll turn up. Looked in thecellar and on the attic? After that I'd hunt the barn. Many's the timeI've hid in the hay, already, when I was little and my pap was afterme; if we could keep out of the way long enough pap'd always fergit hemeant to whip us. There hain't many places better to hide in than thehay-loft. I remember I was up there oncet hidin', and I come on a nesta hen had stole up there--had fourteen aiggs in it yet! I gathered allthem there aiggs in my aprun--had to reach far to git 'em, so I putone foot over a bundle of straw there was layin' there--kinder stoodastride of it yet--and I'll be switched if that there straw bundledidn't set out a-slidin'! I couldn't git offen it, so I just droppeddown as I stood, astride of it, and held up my aprun good, and I sez:Git ap! And I slid right down onto the barn floor's much's ten footbelow. My days, I thought the floor had come up through the top of myhead when I struck! But I held up them aiggs in my aprun, and therewa'n't one of 'em broke. But I was that stunted I didn't git over itfor good two hours."
Happie shouted; even Mrs. Scollard laughed, in spite of her growinganxiety, and Penny sighed admiringly: "Oh, Rosie dear, you _are_ sofunny!"
"Get a candle, Happie--I am afraid to carry a lighted lamp into theattic--and we'll look there first," said Mrs. Scollard. "Perhaps youhad better stay here. I fancy Laura would rather not see you, nor Bob,till the first mortification is over."
Happie brought the candle, shading it with her hand from the strongbreeze.
"Here it is, mother. I'll put Penny to bed in the meantime," she said.
Mrs. Scollard proceeded up the stairs, continuing her way to the attic,while Happy took Penny into her room.
There was nothing in sight when the mother reached the head of thenarrow stairs, except a mouse which scuttled away to its hole as thelight appeared, and just in time to escape Doree, who had followedhis mistress in the hope of adventures of this nature, and with anexpression of deep interest on his saucy, short-nosed face. The raftersloomed out in fantastic, wavering shapes before the exaggerating flameof the candle; everything was quiet and orderly, and Mrs. Scollard wasabout to turn towards the stairs, when Doree remarked: "M-m-ummm?"in his pleasant little calling tone, and trotted over to the darkestcorner, with his tail preternaturally straight, and his back slightlyarched, as if ready for a caressing hand.
Mrs. Scollard took the cat's advice, and hurried in the same directionthat he was going, holding her candle high above her head to throwthe light into the gloom before her. There, prostrate behind theold Bittenbender trunk, lay the genius rejected by the ungratefulCrestvillians.
Mrs. Scollard set down her candle with mingled solicitude for Lauraherself, and for Laura's best dress, and with a gleam of amusement, nowthat her anxiety was relieved.
"Laura dear, come out," she said gently. "Be wise enough not to broodover a mistake that you will not make again."
Laura lifted her head quickly. "Mistake, mamma!" she cried. "I madeno mistake. But do you think I can help minding being treated soungratefully, even insulted by those horrid, ignorant people?"
"Come here, Laura," said her mother, in the tone which her childrenalways obeyed.
Laura came forth, dusty, tear-stained, a wreck of her usualself-satisfied and trim little self. Her mother drew her on her knee asshe seated herself on a chest, and began to smooth the tumbled hair,and to stroke the hot cheeks with a gentle hand.
"Let me show you the mistake, my dear," she said. "Here is a littlegirl, barely thirteen, who first of all prepares an entertainment, andgives it, not only without consulting her elders, but without theirpermission. You certainly have no right, Laura, to undertake a publicappearance without asking leave. It is for this that you are punished;I knew that you would receive your just dues if I refrained frominterfering, and I am glad that your punishment has been quite severeenough without one from me. For--and this is the second part of yourmistake, and a part that affects your every action--you take your smallself much too seriously, my Laura. You have talents, which I hope tohave cultivated into value, but in the meantime they are but a childishpromise of what may be. And because of them you plume yourself, holdyourself superior to your brother and sisters, who are in their wayquite as clever as you in yours, and more clever in not overratingthemselves. It is very stupid to be conceited in a world full of trulygreat things, my Laura. Another mistake was to allow yourself to feeland to speak to our neighbors to-night as if you were their superior.They were older than you, my dear, and you have been taught that peoplewith fewer advantages than yourself may be quite as quick-witted; avery wholesome lesson! The audience which you invited to come to beaddressed condescendingly was perfectly sweet-tempered and patientwith the little girl who tried to patronize it. I am grateful to theCrestville people for understanding, and being so kind. So you are notto harbor bitterness, nor to go on making the old mistake of thinkingthat what a child like you does matters too much. You are to come downwith mother, go to bed and go to sleep, a wiser little girl, saying toyourself: 'I shall never again be a conceited little goose!' and nobodywill think twice of what was merely a little girl's folly in forgettingthat she _was_ a little girl. But she's her mother's little girl, sogive me a kiss, and forget all about this evening, except its lessons.I wonder if I can find a place not too dusty to kiss?"
Laura submitted to her mother's caress, but did not respond to itwith an answering smile. She followed the wavering candle-light downthe stairs with faltering steps; she was weak and ill from excessivecrying, and the fall of her pride had bruised her mentally black andblue. Jeunesse Doree, bringing up the rear, was the only cheerfulperson of the three.
In the morning Laura was feverish and not fit to get up. Mrs. Scollardleft her in Rosie's care--she needed only rest,--and went for adrive with Miss Bradbury, who had of late summoned courage to braveautomobiles with Don Dolor under her personal guidance.
Gretta came up shortly after breakfast, bringing the fresh peas withwhich Miss Bradbury had asked her to supplement the crop of the Arkgarden.
"You haven't any calves, have you?" Gretta said by way of salutationthe moment she entered. "I saw some down by your gate; they must havejust turned in from the road, but they looked as if they had just runout
of your place."
"Caesar's ghost! Of course we have calves; Aunt Keren got three two daysago, goodness knows what for!" cried Bob. "But they can't be ours,because I put them in the cow-yard, and looked after the bars myself."
"You don't know calves," said Rosie. "They beat the Dutch at gettingout. I've seen 'em already get out when you wouldn't have believedanything could. Just you wait till apple time comes, and then trypenning up your cows! They get clear crazy when they smell the ripeapples all over, and you can't keep 'em in to save you. I advise you togo right out and drive in them calves, Bob, and not wait a minute."
"Yes," said Gretta, "or they'll be, no one knows where! If you have anycalves they must be yours I saw, for they were just inside your gate.There were three of them. We'll all go help you drive, but there oughtto be more of us."
"Polly, you look after Laura if she wants something, while we chase upthem calves," said Rosie. "Mortification's set in with Laura, Gretta;she's sick in bed after last night."
Gretta laughed, then looked pitying. "It's too bad; it was hard," shesaid.
"Come on, Snigs; come on, Ralph," called Happie. "We're going to enjoythe pleasures of the chase. Run up and tell Laura we'll be right back;she'll hear us, and worry," she added to Polly.
Now Snigs was just getting a bottle of ginger pop off the ice,intending to regale himself. The ice-box stood on the back stoop forlack of space in the kitchen, and when he heard the summons to chasecalves, Snigs, nothing loathe to join in the sport, hastily shoved thebottle of ginger ale into his hip pocket, and ran around the side ofthe house to join the pursuing party.
There was no doubt that the calves were Bradburys--by adoption. Bobinstantly recognized them as the three which, as he supposed, he hadmade fast in the cow-yard. Whether they recognized him or not was lesscertain. They all three faced the six bipeds with that peculiarlyinnocent gaze of calfhood, lowering their heads and spreading theirfeet, all three in a row, the ecru Jersey, the tan and brown partJersey and the black and white Holstein.
"You just go around on that side, Snigs," said Bob, as he and Ralphprepared to dash forward. "Drive them right up. We'll head them offfrom around the house."
This confident announcement proved how truly Rosie had spoken when shesaid that Bob did not know cows.
Drive them up, indeed! The moment Snigs came up somewhere near closeenough to be of any use, the calves with one simultaneous, if notconcerted, movement, lowered their heads a little further, kicked uptheir six hind legs and scuttled out into the road.
"There! That's the way they always act!" cried Gretta. "There's nothingon earth so hard to drive as calves, except pigs. Bob, run; head 'emoff! Ralph, Snigs, get on up the road, or they'll go over into the nextcounty. Come, Happie!" And Gretta herself followed Rosie down the roadat top speed.
The calves paused, looking as who should say: "How strangely excitedyou all are!" Then they trotted quietly up the road, slipping pastRosie, Gretta and Happie by the simple device of dividing forces, oneon one side, the other two on the other side of the road. Then they sawthe boys, and stopped short, eyeing them blandly as they crept towardsthem, whirled suddenly, threw up their legs again, whisked their tailsinto an arch, and bolted for the boundary fence of the farm oppositethe Ark.
"Keep 'em out of there!" shrieked Rosie. "That there field belongs tothe crabbedest man in the township. My days, but it's hot!"
There was not the slightest objection to keeping them out of thefield, save to the minds of the lively beasts themselves. They seemedto think it would be a good joke to go through a broken paling andtrample down their neighbor's clover--even calves are liable to have adifferent sense of humor from oneself.
The Holstein capered through--smiling, Happie declared--and the othertwo followed without the loss of a moment. Bob, Ralph and Snigs rushedafter them, shouting like demented megaphones. The calves kept ahead ofthem without an effort.
"If they get over there by the woods that's the end of it!" cried Snigsdespairingly. Suddenly the calves stopped, looked around inquiringly,wheeled right about face, and trotted easily up to the broken palingsand out into the road, where they turned to gaze reproachfully at theirate boys whom they had left behind, plainly asking if they could nottake their sport like gentlemen, and lose a race without losing theirtempers.
"Now close up!" shouted Bob. "Head 'em off into our gate; they'rebunched now." They were, but they immediately unbunched--if one may soexpress their sudden scattering.
Rosie and Gretta made a desperate lurch to stop this dispersion. Rosiestubbed her toe on a rock and fell headlong, her whole great lengthstretched out on the dusty road, and her arms extended; she looked likea fallen guide-post.
The boys uttered a war-whoop, and nearly fell over the fence they wereclimbing. Rosie was a wreck as Happie and Gretta raised her; dust--thered shale dust of the region reddening her clean gingham; her sunbonnetflattened into a reddish mass, and her face crimson from heat, wrathand the shock of her fall.
"Mahlon hain't much of a man, but he's got the right to swear; Ihain't," she remarked grimly, evidently regretting masculine rights andher own limitations.
Gretta wiped away the tears of laughter on her own dusty apron.
"Eunice will be furious because I'm gone so long," she said, "but thisis worth a scolding. And do look once at those calves!"
Apparently the three young reprobates had taken Rosie's fall as amelancholy warning of what happened when people ran, for they hadturned into their own gate as meekly as if that had been theirintention from the first, and stood chewing and looking out at theheated group of their pursuers.
"They look as if they were going to sing: 'Speak gently, it is betterfar to rule by love than fear,'" said Happie, pulling herself together;she was weak from laughter.
"For mercy's sake, drive them in before they change their minds again!"cried Bob. "Here come mother and Aunt Keren back."
Rosie, Gretta and Happie ran up to the gate of the Ark just as the boysreached it from the other side, and just as Don Dolor, in the road, wasnearly abreast of it. To every one's horror there came a loud report,apparently a pistol shot. Snigs shot up into the air about a yard,and fell, screaming aloud. Don Dolor arose on his hind legs, danced amoment as Miss Bradbury vainly tried to get control of him, then bolteddown the road in a cloud of dust.
It had all happened so quickly that for an instant the terrified grouparound Snigs stood petrified, gazing at the prostrate boy, and downthe road after the flying horse. Then Ralph picked up Snigs with agonystamped on his face, and Rosie cried: "What in time has happened? Why,"she added, feeling of Snigs, "you're all wet; are you bleeding?"
"I guess so," moaned Snigs. "It's the ginger--ginger ale."
"Ginger ale!" echoed Ralph with a darting thought that the wound was inhis brother's head, and that he was wandering in his mind.
"What ginger ale?" demanded Rosie, more than ever mystified.
"Went off in my pock--pocket," sobbed Snigs, trying to control hisunmanly emotion.
Bob, experienced in being a boy, plunged his hand into Snigs' hippocket, and drew it out quicker than he had put it in, dripping withblood.
"Great Scott! His pocket's full of broken glass!" he cried. "Did youhave a bottle of ginger pop in there, Snigs?"
"Yes," said Snigs, mastering the tears that flowed more fromnervousness than from pain. "I was just getting one when you calledme to catch those calves--plague take them! So I stuffed it into mypocket, because I was in too big a hurry to go into the house with it,and now it's bust!"
"It got hot and worked!" cried Bob. "Christopher Columbus, what amorning!" He couldn't help laughing, but he looked worried. "I wishI knew where mother was; Aunt Keren can't drive when a horse needsdriving. They may be upset."
"I guess not; the road's straight," said Rosie. "Are you hurt, Snigs?Maybe that there glass blew somewhere into his flesh."
"Oh!" cried Happie, laughing and crying hysterically as she picturedglass blowing into flesh, and straining her eyes for a
sight of DonDolor.
"They're coming!" cried Gretta, who had the long vision of eyesaccustomed to mountain reaches. "My, they must be worried! It soundedexactly like a shot."
"I'm going to help Ralph carry Snigs up-stairs," said Rosie, but Lauraintercepted her, coming over the grass in a trailing wrapper of hermother's, with Polly and Penny clinging to her hands.
"Who did that pistol kill?" she demanded tragically, with no doubt thata case of not-knowing-that-it-was-loaded had occurred in her family.
"Snigs has been wounded by ginger pop," cried Happie over her shoulder,flying to meet the returning buggy.
"Who is wounded; tell me quick who is wounded?" gasped Mrs. Scollard,leaning far out of the carriage, while at the same time Miss Bradburydemanded: "Where did you get it?"
"Snigs is wounded; he got it out of the ice box--it was a ginger popbottle that exploded in his pocket. It's not serious, mother," shoutedBob.
Even Miss Bradbury's laugh rang out at this statement, and Mrs.Scollard fell back into her seat, sobbing and laughing at the relief.
Don Dolor looked ashamed of himself, yet glad that he had so quicklyallowed himself to be brought under control by his inexperienceddriver, hoping, probably, that his family would make due allowance forthe fact that the explosion had sounded enough like a pistol to deceivethem, and that he had not been expecting such a sound at his own gate.
"Such a morning, and all for those dreadful calves!" sighed Happie,as she and Gretta climbed into the buggy to go after the doctor, andRalph and Bob bore Snigs into the house. "By the way, where are theabominable things?"
"Rosie has them," said Polly. "She drove them around the house."
"You'd better go in, Laura; you're not dressed for public--for beingout of doors," said Happie, altering her sentence, fearing to alludeto public appearances when Laura was emerging from her tragic frameof mind in relation to her recent experience in that line.
Gretta and Happie looked back as they drove out of the yard. They sawRosie putting up the cow-yard bars, while the three calves looked overthem with gentle, peaceful faces. Even at that distance the girls couldrecognize the emphasis with which Rosie put the bars in the posts, andmade them fast.
Six Girls and Bob: A Story of Patty-Pans and Green Fields Page 14
