Chicken Little Jane on the Big John Part 12

The day following the arrival of the guests was spent in resting and seeing the ranch. Katy and Gertie had never been on a large farm before, and the thousand acres of field and prairie and woodland, seemed as marvellous as the tales they had read of the big English estates. Alice and d.i.c.k were also fascinated by all this s.p.a.ce and freedom, but they saw deeper than the little girls.

"It's a wonderful place," said d.i.c.k, "and I don't wonder the Doctor is proud of it. But he is too well along in years to handle such a big undertaking. I doubt if the ranch pays for ten years to come, and it means hard work and a lonely life for all of them. It's all right for Frank and Marian, but I'm sorry for the rest of the family."

"Mrs. Morton is growing old fast with all this unaccustomed drudgery, and she is worried about the children's education, I can see," replied Alice.

"Yes, there are two sides to it. I guess we'll stick to the law and little old Centerville; we may not die rich, but we'll be a lot more comfortable as we go along."

Sherm took to the farm like the proverbial duck to the pond. He donned overalls that first morning and was off with Frank and Ernest to the fields before the little girls were out of bed. After breakfast Jane took Katie and Gertie to see the sights of the ranch. First to the spring under the old oak where the cold, clear water gushed from the rocks into a little basin, and then tumbled down a rocky channel under the springhouse and on for some hundred of yards farther before it widened out into the pond.

"We can go swimming in the pond but there is a nicer place in the creek above the ford."

"Oh, I'd love to learn to swim but we haven't any bathing suits."

"Pooh, that doesn't matter, we just take some old dresses--there isn't anybody to see you, especially down at the creek. You know it's private ground and the trees hang over the pool all around so the sun only comes in a little bit. We'll get Marian to go with us."

"I should think you could skate, too."

"We do. I had a great time once last winter--Father told me the ice was too thin, but I saw a yearling calf go over all right and I thought the ice would bear me. But I guess calfie had more sense about the weak places. At any rate, I went through, near the middle. The water was up to my shoulders. Gee, it was cold and the ice kept breaking when I tried to climb out--and the men were all away. I most froze before I got to the bank, and then my skate straps were so wet I couldn't loosen them, besides my fingers were too numb to bend. I had to walk on the skates all the way to the house. My teeth chattered till they almost played tunes by the time I got to the door." Chicken Little shivered at the recollection.

"What's the cunning little stone house for?" Gertie's attention was caught by a tiny hut without windows on the edge of the pond.

"Oh, that's the smokehouse. We're so far from town that we put away a lot of meat every winter. The hams and sides of bacon are smoked there."

"And that wooden building over yonder?"

"The granary--for the wheat and rye. Those open log houses are the corn cribs."

"My, it takes a lot of buildings to make a ranch." Katy was impressed in spite of herself.

"We haven't been to the barns and corrals yet. I love the hay mow."

Chicken Little had not forgotten lumps of sugar for Calico and Caliph.

Ernest had given his pony a high-sounding name. The intelligent beast was proud and dainty enough to deserve it. He was shy about coming for his lump, but when he once got the taste, he nosed around Chicken Little for more.

They ended the morning's wanderings in Jane's own particular bower, known to the family as the Weeping Willows because she had once retired there to cry out her troubles, and had been discovered in a very moist state by Frank, who was a merciless tease.

There were two rows of the old willows. They formed a long leafy room on the edge of one of the orchards, out of sight both of the house and road. Chicken Little had been known to flee thither on more than one occasion when she did not wish to be disturbed in the thrilling place in a novel. For you really couldn't hear any one calling from the house in this leafy fastness. Ernest had made her two or three rustic seats, and a little cupboard where she could keep her treasures sheltered from the sun and rain.

Katy and Gertie were charmed with this retreat.

"If there was only a table, I could write all my letters home out here.

Wouldn't it be romantic?" Katy loved the unusual.

"It's lovely, Jane, let's stay out here lots." Gertie settled down on one of the seats with a little sigh. "I wish I had my old doll here; it would make such a dandy playhouse."

"Gertie Halford, the idea of a great, big girl like you wanting to play with dolls."

"I get Victoria out sometimes and dress her up," confessed Jane. "It isn't much fun all alone, but I like to see her sometimes. If you'd like to, Gertie, we'll have a doll sewing bee this afternoon and you can be Victoria's mother and Katie and I will be dressmaker's though I never could sew decently. Mother's about given me up in despair."

Chicken Little had noticed a little far-away look in Gertie's eyes ever since she came. Marian had warned her the night before that she had better keep Gertie pretty busy for a day or two, or she would be homesick.

Unfortunately, Chicken Little's kindness precipitated the catastrophe she was trying to avoid. She was so motherly she reminded Gertie afresh of the dear little mother she had left so many miles behind and the tears came in spite of her.

Chicken Little coaxed and comforted, and Katy coaxed and scolded, but Gertie's tears were apparently turned on for keeps and the Weeping Willows was earning its name again. Gertie cried till she got all shivery, declaring solemnly whenever she could command her voice sufficiently to talk, that there wasn't a thing the matter--only--only--she--was a little bit homesick.

She wouldn't hear to Jane's going to fetch Alice or Mrs. Morton or Marian. "She'd be all right in a minute, if they'd just let her alone."

But the minutes went by and she still cried, and in spite of the warm June sunshine, her hands felt cold and her shoulders shook as if with an ague. Chicken Little and Katy were both getting worried when help came in the shape of Marian and Jilly.

Marian understood at a glance, and dropping to the ground beside her, drew her into her lap and chafed the cold hands while she bade Jilly hug poor Gertie. Jilly was a born comforter and she half smothered the patient with her energetic hugs and moist, warm kisses.

"Too bad, too bad--ants bite Gertie, too bad! Jilly fine 'em."

Jilly had not forgotten her own sad experience with the ants and not seeing any visible cause for Gertie's woes, evidently thought they were the guilty ones again.

Jilly was irresistible. Gertie had to laugh, even if the tears running down her face, did leave a salty taste in her mouth. She hugged the small comforter. Jilly, however, was not to be turned from her hunt. She insisted upon pulling down Gertie's stockings and making a minute search for the culprits. Her little tickling fingers and earnest air completed Gertie's cure, and Jilly adopted her as her own particular property from that day on, seeming to consider her in need of protection.

Marian declared they must all come and have dinner with her. Ernest and Sherm were already there and they had a merry meal in the little cottage, for Marian made them all help--even the big boys. She tied a blue ap.r.o.n around Sherm and set him to stirring gravy while Ernest watched four cherry pies almost ready to come out of the oven. She had despatched Katy and Jane to the springhouse after milk and b.u.t.ter.

Gertie, a.s.sisted by Jilly, set the table.

Sherm had burned a nice fiery red during his morning's plowing. He was immensely proud of his efforts.

"I tell you Sherm's some farmer for a tenderfoot," said Ernest, telling about the number of corn rows he had done.

"Better come stay with us, Sherm."

"Haven't I come--I love the ranch. But I suppose I've got four years of college ahead of me."

"You'll have time enough after that, Sherm," said Frank, "but if you should want to try ranching, you'd better come out this way."

"No ranching for me." Ernest thumped the table with his fork emphatically. "You can have my berth, Sherm, and welcome. The only thing I care for here, is the hunting. By the way, Frank, are you and Marian going hunting with us?"

"I'd like to. What do you say, Marian?"

"Why, if there's room for so many."

"I wish we could ask Captain Clarke," Chicken Little spoke up.

"My, you are daffy about the Captain, Jane. He wouldn't go--you couldn't hire him to if he knew Alice and I were to be of the party. Queer he is so charming with Jane, and with the men and boys, and so very reserved and stiff with women."

"He probably has some reason for disliking your s.e.x. Perhaps, if we'd let him go with the children and the boys, he might be persuaded to come. He'd only see you at luncheon time. What's the matter, Katie?"

"I'm not a child," said Katy with dignity.

"All right, you may come with us grown-ups and let the Captain have the children and the boys."

"You'd better find out whether the Captain is willing before you plan so definitely, Frank."