The Dorrance Domain Part 28

"I falled in!" she cried, gleefully; "I failed in all myself, when C'lestine wasn't looking. Ain't I a funny dirl?"

"No, I don't think it's funny," began Dorothy, and then she paused, realizing that it was not her duty to reprimand Mrs. Black's children, and, too, Sylvia certainly did look funny. Not only her white dress, but her face and hands, and her dainty white slippers and stockings were bespattered with brown mud, and Lilian said that she looked like a chocolate eclair.

Another day, Celestine approached Dorothy with the pleasing news that, "Master Montmorency, he must have upsetted the blanc-mange."

Dorothy flew to verify this statement, and found that the son of the house of Black had indeed overturned a large dish of Bavarian cream, which Kathleen had made for that evening's dessert. It had been set out on the back porch to cool, and though protected by a wire screen cover, the enterprising youth had succeeded in wrecking the whole affair.

Dorothy's record for good-nature was seriously menaced by this mischievous prank, and she would probably have told Mrs. Black her honest opinion of the transgressing infant; but Kathleen's view of the case disarmed her.

"Whisht, now, darlint," said the big peace-maker, "niver you mind. I'll whishk up another bowl full in a minute, shure. The shpalpeen didn't mane anny harrum. Troth, he's nothin' but a baby. Wasn't ye wan yersilf wanst? Go 'long wid ye, now, and lave me to me wurruk."

This Dorothy was glad enough to do, and she walked away, feeling that Kathleen had taught her a lesson in making allowance for the unconsciousness of a child's wrongdoing.

When she reached the west veranda she found the whole family and all the guests gathered there in a great state of excitement.

Following Lilian's pointing finger with her eyes, she saw Mary, the parrot, perched calmly on a high limb of an evergreen-tree.

"How did she get out?" cried Dorothy, aghast.

"Sylvia opened the cage door," answered Lilian, "when no one was looking,--and Mary just walked out. You should have seen her climbing that tree. She went up branch by branch."

The parrot looked triumphantly down at the crowd, and remarked, "Mary is high up; Mary is very high up."

"Come down, Mary," said Dorothy, beseechingly; "come down, Mary,--pretty Mary,--come down to Dorothy."

"Hurrah for Dorothy!" cried the parrot,--"hurrah for Sylvia! hurrah for the Dorrance Domain!"

This last cheer had been taught to Mary by Leicester, after many long and patient lessons, and never before had Mary spoken it so plainly and distinctly.

By this time the Van Arsdale ladies were in tears; Fairy, too, was weeping, for she felt sure Mary would fly away and never come back. The Black children required very little encouragement to start their lachrymal glands, and seeing the others' tears, immediately began to howl in various keys.

"Don't cry, don't cry!" said Mary, from her high perch.

"Come down, Mary," said Dorothy, coaxingly, and showing an apple and a cracker which she had procured; "come down and get your dinner."

But no urgings would induce the bird to come down. She c.o.c.ked her eye wickedly, and hurrahed for everybody in turn, but utterly refused to descend.

"Ach, donnerblitzen!" exclaimed German Lisa. "Denn du bist ein dumkopf!

Kommst du jetz hinein!"

"Ciel! what a bird it is!" wailed Celestine, wringing her hands; "ah, Marie, belle Marie, come down, cherie!"

But the French coaxing, and the German scolding had no more effect on Mary than the weeping of the Van Arsdale ladies and the screaming of the children. She fluttered her wings, and seemed about to depart. Then she would look at them again, and with her exasperating winks, would hurrah enthusiastically.

"If she'll only stay there long enough, perhaps I can la.s.so her," said Leicester, running in the house for a string.

"No," said Mr. Faulkner, who followed him in, "I'm afraid that would frighten her; but if you had a b.u.t.terfly net, with a very long handle, we might catch her with that."

"Just the thing," said Leicester; "and there is one in the storeroom; I remember seeing it there."

He brought it, but the handle was not long enough; so Mr. Faulkner proposed that they try placing a ladder against another tree near by, and then from the top of that, endeavor to reach the bird with a net.

Mary watched the proceedings with great interest. "Catch Mary!" she cried; "catch pretty Mary!"

"You bet we will!" cried Leicester, and when the ladder was adjusted he climbed to the top of it, carrying the long-handled net with him.

They all thought the bird would be frightened at the net and fly away, or at least attempt to do so.

But she seemed to think it a game in which she played an important part, and she sat quietly on the branch, occasionally remarking, "Catch Mary, pretty Mary!"

With a sure aim, Leicester pushed the net towards the bird and brought it down over her head, then with a dextrous twist, he turned it upside down, with the bird in it, and lowered it carefully to Mr. Faulkner, who was standing below. At this unexpected indignity, Mary set up a ferocious squawking, the Black children redoubled their yells, and the Dorrance children cheered with delight.

Mary was taken from the net, unharmed, and restored to her happy mistress, who determined to send to town at once for a padlock for the cage door.

But though commotions such as these were of frequent, almost daily occurrence; yet when they were not such as to interfere with the routine of her household management, Dorothy did not allow them to worry her.

Although usually busy all the morning, she found many spare hours for rest and recreation in the afternoon; and the evenings were always delightful. The Black children were then safely in bed, and could make no trouble. The Dorrances were at liberty to be by themselves, or with their boarders, as they wished.

As Mr. Faulkner played the guitar, and Leicester could pick a little on the mandolin, and as they all could sing,--or fancied they could,--there were often very jolly concerts on the veranda, or, on moonlight evenings, out in the boat.

Mr. Black came up every week, and when he discovered the array of musical talent already there, he brought his banjo, and added greatly to the fun. Sometimes on rainy evenings, they would all congregate in the great empty ballroom, and play merry games. On such occasions, the Blacks and Faulkners seemed almost as young, and nearly as noisy as the Dorrances.

One day Leicester came to Dorothy, with a letter.

"Jack Harris has just written me," he said, "and he wants to come up here and board for a month; what do you think?"

"Let him come, by all means," said Dorothy, heartily; "he won't be a bit of extra trouble, and if he will pay our regular rates I shall be glad to have him. The Dorrance Domain is now a fully established summer hotel; and we are prepared to receive all who apply."

CHAPTER XXII

TWO BOYS AND A BOAT

It was nearly a week after Leicester had written to Jack Harris, telling him that he might come up and board at the hotel, when, one afternoon, the Dorrance children heard queer sounds coming up from the direction of the dock.

All four ran to look over the rail of the upper landing, and saw a strange-looking craft anch.o.r.ed at the dock. On the dock were two boys and Mr. Hickox; the latter gentleman apparently much excited and interested.

"It's Jack Harris!" cried Leicester, "and another fellow with him; and, oh, I say, girls, they've got a motor-boat!"

"What's a motor-boat?" cried Fairy; but as all four were then flying down the steps at a rapid speed, n.o.body answered her.

Wondering who the second boy could be, and filled with delightful curiosity as to the wonderful motor-boat, the Dorrances reached the dock with astonishing rapidity.

"Hi, Jack," cried Leicester, "thought you were coming up by train. What a dandy boat! Yours?"

"No," said Jack, whipping off his cap, and shaking hands with Dorothy; "it belongs to my chum here, Bob Irwin. I've brought him along, Dorothy, and I hope you can take us both in. Less said you had plenty of room. I would have written, but Bob only decided to come at the last minute, and we were so busy and excited getting the boat off, that I forgot to telegraph, though I meant to do so."