A Daughter of the Rich Part 9

"'Oh, a king would have loved and left thee, And away thy sweet love cast: But I am thine Whilst the stars shall shine,-- To the--last--'"

Just here, she gave the round ma.s.s of dough a toss up to the ceiling and caught it deftly on her right fist as it came down, finishing her octave with high C, while again the bread spun aloft and dropped in safety on her left fist--"to the last!"

Then she proceeded with her kneading and singing:--

"'I told thee when love was hopeless; But now he is wild and sings-- That the stars above [up went the bread again]-- Shine ever on Love--'"

A peal of merry laughter close behind her made her jump, and the bread came down kerchunk into the kneading trough.

"Gracious, Hazel! how you frightened me! I thought you were off with Budd and Cherry."

"So I was; but they wanted me to come in and tell you there is to be a secret meeting of the N.B.B.O.O. Society in the usual place. They said you would know where it is."

"Of course I do; do you?"

"No, they would n't tell. They said it is against the rules to allow any one in who hasn't been initiated. They said they 'd initiate me, if I wanted to join."

"Well, do you want to?"

"Of course I do, if you belong," said Hazel, eagerly.

"Tell them I 'll be out after I 've put the bread to rise and cleared up; but be sure and tell them not to do anything till I come."

"Yes," cried Hazel, joyfully, skipping through the woodshed and encountering Chi with a bag of seed-beans.

"Where you goin', Lady-bird?" (This was Chi's name for her from the first day.) "Seems to me you 're gettin' over the ground pretty fast."

"The Buds" (for so Hazel had nicknamed the children) "are going to have a meeting somewhere of the N.B.B.O.O. Society, and I'm to be initiated, Chi. What does that mean?"

"Initiated, hey? Into a secret society? Well, that depends.--Sometimes it means being tossed sky-high in a blanket, and then again you 're dropped lower than the bottomless pit; and you can't most always tell beforehand which way you 're goin'."

Hazel's face fairly lost the rich color she had gained in the past month. This was more than she had bargained for.

"Oh, Chi! They would n't do such things to me!" she exclaimed in dismay.

"Well, no--I don't know as they 'd carry it that far; but those children mean mischief every time."

"But they would n't hurt me, Chi. They would n't be as mean as that; besides, Rose wouldn't let them."

"Well, I don't know as she would. But children are children, and Rose ain't grown any wings yet."

"Was Rose initiated?" was Hazel's next rather anxious question.

"Yes, she was," said Chi, taking up a handful of beans and letting them run through his fingers into the open bag.

"How do you know, Chi?"

"Coz I initiated her myself."

"You, Chi? Why, do you belong?"

"First member of the N.B.B.O.O. Society."

"Well, that's funny. Who initiated you?"

Chi set down the bag of beans, and for a moment shook with laughter; then, growing perfectly sober, he said solemnly:--

"I initiated myself. But they was all on hand when I did it."

"What did you do, Chi?"

"Just hear her!" said Chi to himself, but aloud, he said, "I 'll tell you this much, if it is a secret society. They try 'n' see what stuff you 're made of."

"'Sugar and spice And all that's nice, That's what little girls are made of,'"

Hazel interrupted, singing merrily.

"There was n't much 'sugar 'n' spice' in that Rose Blossom when she put me to the test. You ain't heard a screech-owl yet; but when you do, you'll come running home to find out whose bein' killed in the woods."

Hazel looked at him half in fear, but Chi went on stolidly:--

"'N' those children told me I 'd got to go up into the woods at twelve o'clock at night, when the screech-owls was yellin' b.l.o.o.d.y murder, to show I wasn't scairt of nothin'; 'n' I went."

"Oh, Chi, was n't it awful?"

"Kinder scarey; but they gave me the dinner horn 'n' told me to blow a blast on that when I was up there, so they 'd hear, 'n' know I was _clear_ into the woods; for they was all on hand watchin' from the back attic window--what they could in a pitch-black night--to see if I 'd back down."

"And you did n't, Chi?" said Hazel, eagerly.

"You bet I did n't, 'n' I brought home an old screecher just to prove I was game."

"How did you catch him, Chi?"

Chi clapped his hands on his knees, and shook with laughter; then he grew perfectly sober:--

"I took a dark lantern along with me, just to kind of feel my way in the woods--but the children did n't know about that--'n' when an old screecher gave a blood-curdlin' yell, just as near my right ear as the engine down on the track when you 're standin' at the depot at Barton's River,--just then I turned on the light full tilt, and the feller sat right still on the branch, kind of dazed like, 'n' I took him just as easy as I 'd take a hen off the roost after dark, 'n' brought him home.

'N' just as I was goin' up into the attic in the dark, the shed stairs'

way, 'n' the children was all listenin' at the top in the dark, the dummed bird gave such a screech that the children all tumbled over one another tryin' to get back to their beds, 'n' such screamin' 'n'

hollerin' you never heard--the bird was n't in it."

Again Chi laughed at the recollection, and Hazel joined him.

"Did they make you do anything more, Chi?"

"By George Washin'ton! I should think they did," said Chi, soberly.

"That last was March's idea, but Rose went him one more."