A Dear Little Girl's Summer Holidays Part 20

The boy shot her one look of delight and surprise and let his line drop into the pond. When he drew it out with a package dangling from the hook, he turned to his little sister. "Come on, sis," he said, "you and me'll open it together."

Curly-Head followed him with pleased expectancy, and when they opened the package to disclose several pieces of panuchee, it was share and share alike.

"That's a nice generous boy," whispered Jennie to her companions. "I know what I am going to do; I am going to let him spend the rest of my money."

"And I'll let the little girl spend mine," declared Edna.

"Where do I come in?" asked Dorothy. "To be sure I have only ten cents and it wouldn't go a great way. I wonder if there are any more children who haven't had any money to spend."

"I don't see how we can find out," said Jennie, "for they might pretend if we asked. This little fellow told without our asking, you see."

"Oh, well, I know what I can do. I will buy him something to take home to his mother, and that will be just as good."

During this time the two children had been devouring the candy, and soon had finished the last piece. "Do you want to fish in the pond?"

Edna asked the little girl.

"Yeth," she answered bashfully.

"Then come on." She was given the pole and with a rapturous giggle drew forth another package which proved to contain two little cakes, which soon followed the way of the candy.

"Now they must have some ice-cream," decided Jennie.

"You don't suppose it will make them sick, do you?" said Dorothy.

"Of course not. It hasn't made us sick, and why should it make them? We have eaten twice as much stuff as they have."

This silenced Dorothy, and the children were made happy by being served with two saucers of ice-cream which they ate solemnly, aware that they were being watched by their benefactors.

When the last drop had vanished Jennie and Edna each took her last nickel and gave it to the children. "Now," said they, "this is for you to spend anyway you like."

"And this," said Dorothy, bringing forth her ten cents, "is for you to spend for your mother. Now don't forget," she charged the boy. "You understand it is to buy something for your mother."

He nodded, and without a word started at once for the fish-pond, the money clutched safely in one hand and the other holding the fat little fingers of his sister. Evidently there was no joy in life equal to fishing, in the eyes of this son of a fisherman.

"Do you suppose he is going to spend it all at the fish-pond?" said Dorothy as she watched him trudge off.

"Oh, never mind if he does. No doubt his mother will be just as well pleased with what he brings from there as anything."

By this time the tables in the hall were swept of nearly everything salable, and the tea had given out in the tea-tent. Only a few persons remained, and these were making ready to go. As they pa.s.sed the fish-pond, they saw that the lines were taken in and the young lady in charge was preparing to shut up shop. Ahead of them Young Fisherman and Curly-Head were toddling home, each clutching a parcel.

"I wonder what they have," said Jennie. "Let's run after them and see."

They were not long in catching up with the toddlers. "What did you get?" asked Jennie.

The boy slowly unwound a long piece of string from the package and brought to view a piece of soap. "That's for mother," he said.

"Thith ith for muvver, too," said Curly-Head holding out a small paper bag. Jennie opened it to find therein a roll of tape.

The little girls tried to keep from laughing, but hardly succeeded.

"You'd better toddle home," said Jennie. "The bazar is over."

The children did not stir, but watched their friends depart. When they were nearly out of hearing, came back to them these words: "The ice-cream was awful good." So did Young Fisherman make known his appreciation. Curly-Head echoed his words, but her little voice did not carry far enough for the girls to hear.

"Where have you been?" asked Mrs. Ramsey when they at last returned to the hall.

"We've been spending the last of our money," Jennie told her. "Did you make two hundred dollars, Mother?"

"We think so, though it has not all been turned in yet. Your money seems to have lasted pretty well if you have just spent the last of it."

Jennie laughed, and then told about the funny pair with their piece of soap and roll of tape. But somehow it didn't appear so funny to her mother as she expected it would, for instead of laughing she gathered the three children to her and kissed them all three, murmuring, "You dears."

When all the returns were made it was found that a little over the two hundred dollars had been taken in, and this was expected to be quite enough to buy furniture for the new house when it should be built.

Cap'n Si was quite overcome, but had few words. It was not like his kind to express many thanks. The house was to be begun at once that it might be ready before cold weather. Enough had been subscribed for a beginning to be made, and several gentlemen had pledged themselves to see it through in case there should be a lack.

The dolls returned in state to the house from which they had been taken, and the matter of names was much discussed. Finally Edna decided that she would name hers after Mrs. Ramsey and so her doll was called Virginia. Dorothy wavered between Edna and Jennie, but finally concluded the latter would be more in keeping with the occasion. Jennie was not long in making up her mind that Eloise should be the name of her doll.

"I have always thought it such a lovely name," she said, "and Miss Eloise will be so pleased, I know," as indeed she was.

Mrs. Morrison and Louis had gone home just before the bazar came off, as they were to stop on the way to see Mrs. Morrison's sister, but Louis told Edna that his Uncle Justus had persuaded his mother to send him to boarding-school the next year, and strange to say he liked the idea, so it will be seen that Uncle Justus did have the talk he had in mind that evening of the sailing party. Edna was not allowed to go away without having the sail to Gosling Island, and this time there was no headache to interfere, but all went smoothly, and the sail home by moonlight was something to be remembered. It was decided that the Ramseys should go as far as Boston with the little girls when they were ready to go home, and that a stop of a couple days should be made. Miss Newman and Miss Eloise closed the little bungalow, but hoped to return to it another year.

"I never dreamed of such a wonderful summer," Miss Eloise told her three little friends as they were taking that moonlight sail. "To think that I, poor invalid I, should actually have earned some money, and am so much better that I may be able to earn more. Oh, my dears, you don't know what it means to me to help sister who has sacrificed her life to me. I am going to tell you that she gave up her lover and all her dream of a happy home, such as other women have, because I must be her first care. I want you to know how dear and good she is, for I don't think people always appreciate her. I have found that out since I have been more in the world and have seen more people."

This little group was to itself, Miss Eloise lying on a pile of rugs and the children around her. The others were in another part of the vessel.

"I am glad you told us," said Edna, "for now we shall always remember how good she is, and we shall love her more than ever, but we can't help loving you best, Miss Eloise."

"Oh, my dear, don't say that. I don't deserve half as much love as sister."

However this might be, it was a fact that no one could help loving Miss Eloise the best, though the little girls said to one another that night, "We must try to be extra nice to Miss Newman next year, because Miss Eloise wants us to."

It seemed quite as if it were time to go when the little bungalow was closed and the cottages, one after another, showed no sign of lights at night. There was a sound of hammers over on the point where the new house was going up for Cap'n Si, and it was expected the family would move in by Christmas. The children wondered what kind of furniture would be bought with the two hundred dollars, but this they could not know till next year. However, Amelia told Jennie that her ma rather guessed they'd have a parlor organ if they didn't have anything else, and Amelia was much set up in consequence.

"Dear me," said Mrs. Ramsey when she was told this, "I was afraid of that. It is just like these people. But what is one to do?"

The days were growing shorter and September was well on its way when the trunks were packed ready for the start for home. "I should feel dreadfully about your going if I didn't expect to see you so soon,"

said Jennie the night before her friends were to leave.

"We have had the loveliest time," Edna told her, "and we're such intimate friends now that I am sure we shall never be anything else, even when we are very old."

But here Mrs. Ramsey appeared to say that if all three were to sleep in one bed, as they had begged to be allowed to do this last night, they must stop chattering and go to sleep. So there were only faint whispers for a little while after that and then these ceased.

CHAPTER XI

OLD NORTH CHURCH