Miss Dexie Part 31

"I missed your flowers, from the window seats, and wondered if you had found them too much trouble," said Gertrude, fingering some sweet-smelling leaves near her. "Well, you see, there were so many of them that it was quite a task to look after them when they were spread over the house. In the winter we don't mind the trouble so much, as there is so little left of 'green things growing' to rest the eyes upon that we find them quite a pleasure. In the bright days of spring there is so much to see and do out-of doors that we thought we would collect them here. Of course, we still keep the grandmother's window full of blossoms, for she loves them so dearly."

"It is a pity that the porch is not on the south side of the house," said Dexie. "I should think it would be quite chilly here when the wind blows."

"So it is," said Lizzie, with a smile, "and I suppose you think we might have chosen a better situation for our little conservatory when this many-sided house has better spots to select from, but it was not the flowers alone we were thinking of."

"Well, what else were you thinking of, if I may ask?" said Gertrude.

Lizzie blushed slightly as she replied:

"This is the door that mother uses to go in and out when about her dairy work--that is the dairy under the trees at the end of the path--and father likes to sit here and watch her about her work of an evening while he smokes his pipe; and when she has done her work she will often sit here and rest a few minutes with him; but there is not much of a prospect from this door, except the waters of the Gulf, so we thought we would put our flowers here and she could see and smell them when she went in and out. She might be too busy to stop and notice them particularly, but they are something pleasant to rest her eyes on when she is through with the milk. I always thought that the restless waves made her think of my brother who was lost at sea, but now I fancy that the flowers rest her, though perhaps it is only fancy, after all."

Dexie's thoughts flew back to her own mother lying listlessly on her sofa so much of the time. How much had she ever done to change the current of her mother's thought? She made a mental memorandum to try the effect of a few bright blooms in her mother's window as soon as she returned home.

As they talked, Maggie had taken up her father's pipe that had lain on a shelf near, and emptying its contents she took from a pouch hanging on the wall a piece of tobacco and a jack-knife, and, with a practised hand, she refilled the pipe afresh, then laid it gently on a little shelf within easy reach of the cosy seat that her father occupied during the warm summer evenings. It was done so quietly that it was almost unnoticed, but Dexie saw it and understood the kindly act. She wondered if she loved her own father enough to perform such an act for him. She felt glad that her father did not use tobacco, for she would not care to be outdone by these Prince Edward Island girls; yet in her case she felt that even lovingkindness had its limit, and that she would have to draw the line _this_ side of the tobacco pipe.

Maggie felt, rather than saw, that Dexie was watching her, and as she laid the pipe in readiness for her father's evening smoke she looked up and said with a smile:

"You never saw a girl do that before, confess now? Well, I don't care for it, but father likes to find his pipe all ready for him, so I try to overcome my dislike, and his tobacco-smoke helps to keep my flowers free from vermin, you know."

As twilight deepened into evening the members of the family all a.s.sembled in the grandmother's room, and a home-like feeling came over Elsie as she saw Mr. McDonald open the big Bible that rested on a small table near the grandmother's chair, and read, in his rich Scotch accents, the evening psalms. Then they quietly knelt, all except the grandmother, who, rising slowly to her feet and leaning on her staff, offered up the evening prayer.

It made Dexie think of the patriarchs of old, who blessed their families "leaning on their staffs for very age." Then the family said good-night to the grandmother, and the polished candlesticks that decorated the mantle shelf were taken down by the farmer's wife and a lighted candle set in each; these were then handed to the different members of the family, who pa.s.sed out of the room in single file, very much after the manner of a diminutive torch-light procession.

The family were supposed to retire to their own rooms at once, as "early to bed" was the rule of the farmhouse, but the laughing group of girls all a.s.sembled in one room for a friendly chat before retiring.

As Lancy sat by his open window enjoying the quiet scene without, the sound of their voices reached his ears. He would have preferred a walk, or a short _tete-a-tete_ with Dexie, instead of this early-to-bed arrangement, but he respected the rule of the house and blew out his candle at an early hour. He was rewarded for his good behavior by a long refreshing sleep, and Dexie appearing to him in his dreams was more gracious than ever she had been during his waking hours.

But, as everyone knows, when young ladies get talking together of an evening, sleep "comes slowly up that way," and the shortness of their candles alone warned them that it was time they sought the pillow. But the short candles were unheeded, for Gertrude was relating reminiscences of a former visit, and the fun and frolic that prevailed at the farm during their stay. At last, when one of the candles flared up, then subsided in smoke, the girls rose to leave the room, but Gertrude turned at the door, saying:

"Take good care, girls, and sleep well over to the back of the bed, or you may repeat the performance that took place the first night that Beatrice and I slept in the house."

"Oh, do tell them about it, Gertrude," said Maggie, laughing. "Our candles will hold out that long, I think."

Gertrude seated herself on the foot of the bed, while the rest waited for the story.

"Well, we slept that night in the room that Lancy occupies, at the head of the stairs, and, do you know, I never enter it but I feel cold shivers running up my back as I think of that night. You see, Mrs. McDonald's feather-beds are wonderful for size; they are her pride and joy; but we were not used to them, so, during the night, we rolled over too near the front of the bed, when suddenly out we both went, and the feather-bed fell out on top of us! I thought there had been an earthquake, and so laid quiet for the next shock. By and by Beatrice crawled out from under the ruins and tried to lift the feather-bed back on the mattress, but instead of doing so she fell back on the floor with it in her arms. Over went the table, and this upset the whole contents of the water-pitcher over my back.

Good gracious! how it scared me! It was pitch dark and I could not tell what had happened, so I screamed--screamed as if I was being murdered.

Imagine our feelings when the door opened, and in walked Mr. and Mrs.

McDonald, carrying a candle and a poker. Oh! I thought I should die with shame. They thought that robbers had broken into the house and were carrying us off, so they ran with the poker to our rescue. It took them some time to comprehend the true state of affairs, then Mr. McDonald disappeared in a twinkling. The girls here came running up to see what was the matter, and they soon tossed the bed and bed-clothes out of the way, and got some dry garments for poor shivering me. Beatrice escaped with a lump on her head as big as an egg. I had no outward bruises to speak of, but I felt bad enough without any; but the water-pitcher had the handle broken off, and the bed-clothes and feather-bed had to be dried out-of-doors for days after. Oh, dear! I did feel so ashamed; such a sc.r.a.pe I never got into before or since. So take my story to heart, and do not lose your senses if you do fall out of bed," and Gertrude laughed as she took up her candle and followed the rest from the room, leaving Dexie and Elsie to the mercy or comfort of their big feather-bed.

CHAPTER XXV.

There was a full breakfast table the next morning, for the young visitors determined to fall into the ways of the family as much as possible, so decided to be "early birds" along with the rest.

During the meal, Mr. McDonald suggested the various ways they might pa.s.s the day enjoyably; but when he had exhausted the resources of pleasure that occurred to his mind, Dexie smilingly said,

"You are very kind, Mr. McDonald, to place so many pleasures within our reach, but it would not be right to spend the whole day in that way."

"What way would you prefer to pa.s.s the day?" said Lizzie, with a smile.

"Well, first, I should like to help wash the dishes, then I should like to be set to work at anything else that I can do in a pa.s.sable manner."

"Dear me! is that what you call enjoying yourself, Miss Dexie?" said Maggie. "I fancy you would not like dish-washing, if you had to do it all the time."

"Well, perhaps a full day's task of dish-washing would be rather tedious,"

said Dexie, laughing; "but I was only bidding for the breakfast dishes, you know."

"But there is no need to trouble yourselves about anything," said Mrs.

McDonald. "Enjoy yourselves all you can while you are here; Phebe can manage the work nicely. Put on your hats, and have a walk through the fields; it will give you a fine appet.i.te for your dinner."

"But I have a remarkable appet.i.te already, Mrs. McDonald; I shall be alarmed if it increases much more," was the smiling reply, "and you know the Bible says, 'If one will not work, neither should he eat,' or words to that effect, so you must have pity on me, and not keep me idle. Lancy, your appet.i.te is wonderful too, for that is your second cup of coffee; you had better hunt up some work also," she laughingly added.

"I will give him some now," said Lizzie. "Before the tide comes in he can go down to the boat-house and get out the boat. We want to be off by ten o'clock; the tide will be about right then, and since you are so anxious for work, Miss Dexie, you may help Maggie pack the baskets. I hope, Gertrude, you won't ask for something to do, for I want you to take Miss Gurney around, and show her the poultry yard. Mother will be too busy to protect her from our feathered enemies."

"Enemies! are they very savage?" Elsie asked in alarm.

"No; the trouble is in the opposite direction," said Maggie. "The creatures are that tame they are quite a nuisance; you can scarcely step for them.

The greedy things look for something to eat from everybody who ventures inside the yard, and will fly on your shoulders for the first chance at the pan. Gertrude knows how to protect herself, so you can put yourself under her care with safety."

How pleasant it is when one goes visiting to feel as if you are one of the family; but the expression "Making yourself at home" is more often made than really experienced. While at the farmhouse our young people did truly realize the feeling.

It would take too long to tell of the many excursions by water, and drives by land, that were enjoyed daily, but the vicinity for miles around was thoroughly explored. Every night Gertrude would say she ought to return home, but the next day would seem so full of pleasure that it seemed a pity to miss it.

One evening, when they were seated and idly swinging among the boughs of a low-limbed tree that stood near the house--a favorite spot with the girls--Dexie suddenly remarked,

"Lancy, I am just hungry for a 'sing;' do start up something."

"Bless you for the thought," Lancy replied, from a distant limb. "I have been wondering these few days back what it was I was missing. Take the first choice yourself, and start away."

But they found it was easier to start the singing than it was to end it, for they soon had all the household within hearing distance, and "just one more" was asked for from so many different quarters that their song-hunger was fully satisfied before they were allowed to stop.

They seemed to sing like the birds, from "lightness of heart, and very joy of living." After a few moments' silence, a bird-song was whistled by the "mates in the tree," eliciting strong words of praise, as well as surprise, from the delighted listeners.

"Oh, that's nothing to what we have to endure at home," said Elsie. "Those two are always hooting away like a pair of owls. It is a wonder their throats are not split before this. I almost hope that the piano at home will be mouldy when we get back."

"We will soon knock the mould out of it, hey, Dexie?" Lancy laughingly replied, as he lifted his mate down from her perch.

"Oh, how I should love to have a piano, and be able to play on it," said Maggie, with a long-drawn sigh. "Perhaps we will have one sometime."

"Why, Maggie, how can you say such a thing? A deep sorrow comes before that joy; and how can you wish for it?" was the stern reproof of her sister.

"Oh, dear! what have I said! I forgot that for the moment!" and there was such a tone of regret in her words that Dexie's eyes asked an explanation.

"We can't have a piano while the grandmother is alive. She thinks that all music, except the bagpipes, perhaps, is positively wicked; so we try not to think about it. We spoke about it to father once, and he felt so badly that he could not please us and the grandmother too. Of course she comes first; but he has put the money in the bank to buy an instrument--sometime. I hate to think about it, though I long for it more than I can tell. It makes me feel as if I was such a wicked creature; for just think of wishing for a thing that can only be had over the grandmother's coffin! Oh, dear! I wish I had never heard the sound of music!" and to the surprise and dismay of the little group she burst into tears.