The sun rose bright and early on Brother's birthday morning. Not any earlier than usual, perhaps, but it certainly woke Brother a whole half-hour earlier than he usually opened his eyes.
Almost at the same moment that his brown eyes opened wide, and he sat up in bed, Sister's dark eyes also opened wide and she sat up in her little white bed.
"Oh!" she said, blinking. "OH, it's your birthday, Roddy! Many happy returns of the day—and I have a present for you!"
She slipped out of bed and ran over to the chest of white drawers that held her own possessions.
"You can play with them a little while and then you can eat 'em," she explained, returning with a flat, white box which she put on Brother's lap.
The present proved to be a pound of animal crackers, of which Brother was very fond, and Sister was telling him how she had carefully picked out as many horses and elephants as she could—for indulgent Grandma Hastings had bought several pounds of the crackers, and allowed Sister to select the two kinds of animals that were Brother's favorites—when they heard Ralph's quick step in the hall.
"Here comes Ralph! Don't look!" commanded Brother hastily.
Sister promptly dived under the bedclothes, and when Ralph softly opened the door—lest the children were still asleep—he saw Brother staring eagerly toward him and a little lump in the middle of Sister's bed.
"Well, young man, how does it feel to be six years old?" Ralph asked merrily, putting down the basket he carried on the floor, and coming over to Brother, who stood up to hug him.
"Just as nice," gurgled Brother, standing still to receive the six "spanks" without which no birthday could be properly celebrated.
"Can I look yet?" asked a muffled voice meekly.
"Why, sweetheart, what have they done to you?" demanded Ralph in amazement, uncovering a very warm and flushed little girl. "I thought you were asleep, honey. Don't you feel well?"
"Oh, I feel all right," Sister assured him cheerfully. "Only I promised Brother I wouldn't look at the present before he did."
"That's so, I did bring a present, didn't I?" said Ralph, pretending to have forgotten. "Well, Brother, stand up while I measure you once more; I must be sure that you are tall enough and that means that you drank your milk every time without grumbling."
"Couldn't he grumble?" asked Sister, watching while Ralph stood brother against the wall and made a tiny mark with a pencil. "You never said he couldn't grumble, Ralph."
"Didn't I?" Ralph said. "Well, then, I should, because that is very important. You will grow, you know, if you drink your milk and grumble about it, but not half as fast as you will grow if you drink the milk and make no fuss. That's true, Sister—I'm not joking."
"I didn't grumble much, did I, Sister?" interposed Brother. "Haven't I grown, Ralph?"
"Yes, I think you have—enough to have what I have brought you," returned Ralph cheerfully. "Here, now, tell me what you think of this."
He stooped down and lifted the lid of the basket. Then he tipped it over on one side and out rolled the fattest brown and white collie puppy dog you ever saw!
"Oh! Oh! Oh!" shrieked Brother and Sister together. "What a perfectly dear little puppy!"
"He's yours, Brother," said Ralph, smiling like the dear big brother he was. "Yours to take care of and love, and to name."
"Hasn't he any name?" asked Brother, hugging the fat puppy, who seemed to like it and tried to say so with his little red tongue. "I don't know what to name a puppy dog."
"Call him 'Brownie,'" suggested Sister, down on her knees on the floor, watching the dog with shining eyes. "I think that is a nice name."
"So do I," agreed Brother.
"I do, too," said Ralph. "And now you must get dressed if you are not to be late for breakfast; and I must go down now—I have to take an earlier train in."
"Won't you come to the party?" begged Sister, as Ralph stood up to go.
"Don't believe I'll be home in time," he answered. "But you can tell me all about it and that will be almost as nice."
Mother Morrison came in to help them dress and she kissed Brother six times because it was his birthday. He wore a new blue sailor suit, and Sister put on her next-to-the-best hair-ribbon in his honor.
"I like birthdays," sighed Brother, slipping into his seat at the breakfast table and eyeing the little heap of bundles at his plate with great delight. "Look at my puppy dog, Dick."
"Well, that is a nice pup," admitted Dick, putting down his paper. "Have you named him yet?"
"Name's Brownie—Betty thought of it," replied Brother. "Can he have cereal, Mother? And Daddy wrote on this box, didn't he?" The little boy picked up a box wrapped in paper.
"Now just a minute," said Mother Morrison firmly. "The dog can't eat at the table, dear; put him down until you have finished breakfast. I don't want you to open the parcels, either, until you have had your milk and cereal. But those two on top you may open—they are from Daddy and Dick and they're going to leave in ten minutes."
Brother opened the two packages eagerly. That from Daddy Morrison was a little wooden block and a set of rubber type with an ink-pad, so that Brother might play at printing. He knew his letters and, if someone helped him, could spell a number of words. Dick's parcel contained a little silver collar for the new puppy, so made that it could be made larger for him as he grew.
"Oh, Dick!" Brother flung himself upon that pleased young man and kissed him heartily. Somehow Brother seldom kissed Dick, although he loved him dearly. "It's the nicest collar!"
"All right, all right," said Dick hastily. "Glad you like it. Coming, Dad?"
Brother had to thank Daddy Morrison for his gift and kiss him good-bye, and then the interrupted breakfast went on. As soon as they had all finished, they gathered around Brother to watch him open his birthday gifts.
"With so many birthdays in one family, we must not give elaborate or expensive presents ever," Mother Morrison had once said, and she had made that a rule.
So Brother's presents, while representing a great deal of beautiful love, were simple and mostly home-made.
Louise had made him an entire set of new sails for his ship Swallow; Grace had cleverly painted and cut out a set of paper soldiers, and set them in tiny wooden blocks so that they stood upright; Jimmie's present was a set of little garden tools; Molly brought in a gingerbread man, very wide and tall and most handsomely decorated with pink sugar icing. And Mother Morrison gave him a box of watercolor paints and a painting book.
Just as Brother had unwrapped the last of his gifts, dear Grandmother Hastings hurried in. Under her arm she carried a large square box, and her eyes twinkled as she set it down.
"For the birthday boy!" she said.
"A toolchest!" shouted Brother in delight. "Look, Grandma, Ralph gave me a puppy!"
"I hope you said 'thank you!' just like that!" laughed Grandmother, as Brother hugged her so tightly she could scarcely get her breath. "Let me give you six kisses, dearie. Why, Brother, what is the matter?"
"I never said 'thank you' at all," mourned Brother. "Did I, Sister? And Ralph gave me such a nice puppy dog."
"But you can say 'thank you' tonight, can't he, Grandma?" protested Sister loyally.
"Why, of course, dear. Don't worry, Brother—Ralph knew you were very happy to have the doggie. Now come and tell me what you are going to call him."
There were many things to be done to get ready for the party that afternoon, and while Brother and Sister introduced Brownie to their grandmother, the rest of the family scattered to their work. Presently Grandmother Hastings declared she must run home and put a lace collar on her best frock so that she could come to the party, and Brother and Sister were left alone with the new presents.
"Let's take Brownie out for a walk," suggested Sister. "Have you fed him, Roddy?"
Brother shook his head. No, Brownie had had no breakfast.
"I wish I'd said thank you' to Ralph," worried Ralph's little brother. "Maybe he won't come home to supper tonight, and I'll be in bed when he comes."
"Telephone him," said Sister, stroking one of Brownie's velvet ears.
"I don't know the name of the law school," objected Brother.
"Ask Daddy," promptly responded Sister. "He'll know."
The children knew the number of Daddy Morrison's big office in the city, and both could telephone very nicely. The phone booth was under the hall stairs and Brother knew no one in the house could hear him when he took down the receiver.
"Please give me 6587 Main," he said politely, while Sister and Brownie sat down on the floor to wait and listen.
Dick was in his father's office, and unless the person calling asked for Mr. Morrison, senior, the switchboard operator gave them Mr. Morrison, junior. That was Dick, who was named for Daddy Morrison.
"Hello, hello!" came Dick's voice over the wire in answer to Brother's call.
"I want Daddy," said Brother distinctly.
"Is that you, Brother?" asked Dick in surprise. "Did Mother ask you to call him? Is anything wrong at home?"
"No, only I want to speak to him," said Brother impatiently.
"He's busy—if you are only trying to amuse yourself, I advise you to stop it," answered Dick rather sharply. "You know you are not supposed to use the 'phone, Brother."
"I guess I can talk to my father," asserted Brother indignantly. "You tell him I want to speak to him, Dick Morrison!"
Dick apparently made the connection, for in another moment Brother heard his father's voice.
"Yes, Son?" it said gently. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, Daddy!" Brother spoke rapidly, his words tumbling over each other. "I never said 'thank you' to Ralph for the puppy dog! An' sometimes he doesn't come home to supper, and I don't see him till tomorrow morning. I want to tell him how much I like Brownie, and I don't know the name of the law school. Will you tell me so I can ask 'Central' for the number and call Ralph up?"
There was a pause. Daddy Morrison was apparently thinking.
"I'll tell you, son," he said presently. "I do not believe Ralph's school allows their pupils to be called from a class to answer the telephone, so you had better not try that plan. But Ralph is coming to the office this noon to go to lunch with Dick. You tell Mother that I said you were to be permitted to telephone the office at half-past twelve. In that way you'll catch Ralph here and can say what you want to him. How will that do?"
"That's fine, Daddy!" replied Brother gratefully. "Thank you ever so much—wait a minute, Daddy—"
"I'm just saying the good-bye," called Sister, who loved to telephone.
"Good-bye, youngsters," said Daddy Morrison, laughing as he hung up the receiver.
"Well, for goodness' sake, what are you two doing here?" demanded Louise, coming through the hall with something hidden in her apron. "Who said you could telephone? Whom did you call up?"
"Daddy," answered Brother serenely. "He said I could call the office again at half-past twelve. What you got, Louise?"
"Secrets," said Louise mysteriously. "People with birthdays shouldn't ask questions."
She hurried on toward the kitchen and in a few moments the children heard her laughing with Molly.
"I think Brownie is hungry," insisted Sister. "Aren't you ever going to feed him?"
"Of course he's hungry," chimed in Grace, who had overheard. "There's a bowl of bread and milk Mother fixed for him before breakfast, out on the back porch, with a plate over it to keep the cats out. Take him out there and feed him, Brother."
Brownie was indeed very hungry and the children enjoyed watching him eat the bread and milk Mother Morrison had fixed for him. After he had eaten it all up, they took him out on the grass to play, but that fat little brown puppy, instead of playing with them, curled up and went to sleep.
"Never mind—here comes the party!" cried Sister, whose bright eyes had spied a wagon turning into the drive.
"The party" happened to be the ice-cream, and Brother and Sister watched eagerly as the delivery boy carried the heavy wooden tub in which the cream was packed, up the back steps.
"Going to have a party?" he smiled at them as he came back to his wagon. "Have a good time!"
The pretty little notes of invitation, which Mother Morrison had written to six boys and six girls, friends of Brother's and Sister's, two weeks ago, had said from "four to six," so it was time to dress in the best white clothes soon after lunch. Indeed, Brother's collar bow was not tied before the doorbell rang, and Nellie Yarrow arrived.
"I suppose she lived so far away, she thought she might be late," said Louise.
She ran downstairs and showed Nellie where to put the present she had brought for Brother.
After that the other boys and girls came, one by one, and Brother soon had a little pile of presents on the living-room table. He opened each one, and said thank you to the child who had brought it, and he forgot to be shy, so that he really enjoyed it all very much.
Charlie Raynor and his sister, Winifred, were the last to come, and Winifred was excited over something.
"I had the most awful time with Charlie!" she announced earnestly, to sympathetic Mother Morrison. "He acted dreadful!"
Winifred was two years older than Charlie and felt responsible for him.
"Give Roddy his present now," Winifred urged Charlie. "Hurry, I tell you."
Silently Charlie held out a little paper bag of candy.
"I had all I could do to keep him from eating it on the way here," his sister explained. "He just loves candy!"
Brother took the bag of candy and put it with his other gifts on the table. Then the children began the peanut hunt, which was the first game Louise and Grace had planned for them.
This was played outdoors, and it was fully half an hour before all the peanuts had been discovered. Then, as several of the girls wanted to start the old, old game of "Going to Jerusalem," and Grace offered to play the music, they all trooped back to the living-room.
"Why, Roddy, your candy is gone!" announced Sister in surprise. "When did you eat it?"
Brother came up to her where she stood by the table of presents.
"I didn't eat it," he said wonderingly. "I left it right there on top of that book. Isn't that funny!"
"Well, it's gone," asserted Sister. "Someone ate it!"
Winifred had heard, and now she turned on the unfortunate Charlie.
"Charles Eldridge Raynor!" she said sternly. "Did you eat Roddy's candy that you brought him? Did you?"
Charlie nodded miserably. He had slipped into the room, unnoticed during the peanut hunt, and unable to longer withstand the temptation, had calmly eaten up his birthday gift.
"I hope," stammered Winifred with very red cheeks, "I hope you will excuse him, Mrs. Morrison. I never knew him to do such a thing before!"
"Oh, it isn't anything so very dreadful," declared Mother Morrison, smiling. "Any laddie with a sweet tooth might easily do the same thing. Come, children, Grace is waiting to play for you."
They played "Going to Jerusalem" and "Drop the Handkerchief," and all the time there was the mysterious fishpond back of the table! But they could not fish till after they had had ice cream.
As they were playing a noisy game of "Tag" out on the lawn, Molly came to the door to ask them to come into the dining-room.
Such a pretty table met their eyes! It seemed to be all blue and white, and in the center was the big birthday cake—iced as only Molly could ice it, and showing no trace of the starch Sister had tried to cover it with. Six candles twinkled merrily on the top.
"Make six wishes, Brother," said Mother Morrison.
"Then he blows, and as many candles as he blows out he will have wishes come true," explained Sister quaintly.
Brother made his wishes—they must not be spoken aloud—and then took a deep breath.
Pouf! Three of the candles went out
"Three wishes!" shouted the children. "You'll have three wishes come true!"
It was a lovely birthday supper. Everyone said so. They had chicken sandwiches, and cocoa, and vanilla and strawberry ice-cream, and of course the birthday cake, which Brother cut in slices himself with the big silver cake knife.
"Why—look!" ejaculated Sister in surprise, glancing up from her cake at the doorway.
Mother Morrison stood there, smiling, and in her hands she carried what seemed to be a very large pudding or pie baked in a milk pan.
"What is it?" said Brother curiously. "What is it?"
"It's a secret," answered his mother mysteriously. "Grandmother Hastings planned it for you."
"And you and Louise bought part of it," Grandmother Hastings assured him, nodding and smiling from the other doorway, the one that led into the hall.
She had come over, in her prettiest white and lavender gown, to see the end of the party.
Mother Morrison came up to the table with the pie and the children saw that the paper crust was full of little slits and that from each slit a ribbon hung out. Some were blue and some were pink.
"Each girl must choose a blue ribbon," said Mother Morrison. "The pink ones are for the boys. You pull first, Lucy."
Lucy Reed pulled one of the blue ribbons. She hauled out a little celluloid doll dressed in a gay red frock.
"How lovely!" Lucy cried. "Do we all get something?"
Each child was eager to pull a ribbon, and, wasn't it strange?—there were just enough ribbons to go round! After every one, including Brother and Sister, had had his turn, the "crust" was all torn, and not a single present or ribbon was left.
"Half-past five!" said Louise then, looking at her little wrist-watch. "We must hurry with the fishing."
So they went into the living-room and had a delightful time fishing in the pond back of the table. There was a gift for everyone who fished, and when six o'clock struck, and it was time to go home, each small guest had a package to take along.
"We've had the nicest time," they called to Mother Morrison as they said good-bye. "We hope Roddy has a party every year."
"The party was a great success, eh?" asked Ralph at the breakfast table the next morning. "I judged so, because it was one o'clock before I could leave Dad's office to get some lunch. He and Dick insisted on holding me there till quarter past."
Brother looked at Sister. Sister looked at Brother. They had both forgotten they meant to telephone Ralph at half-past twelve!
"Don't worry over it, Brother," said Ralph, laughing. "No serious harm was done, old chap. I made Dad tell me the mysterious reason of the wait, and when you didn't 'phone in we all three concluded the party had been too much for you. I'm glad you liked the dog."
"Oh, yes!" Brother seized upon this safe topic. "It is the nicest dog, Ralph. And I did mean to say thank you,' only I forgot."
After Daddy Morrison and Ralph and Dick had gone off to the station, Brother and Sister began to have queer feelings. Yes'm, they both felt "somehow different," as Brother said.
"I don't want to clear off the table," complained Sister, drawing pictures on the tablecloth with a fork, a practice which Molly had always sternly forbidden.
"Neither do I," agreed Brother. "Let's go out in the barn and play."
"Jimmie won't like it," suggested Sister, taking up a cup so carelessly that some of the coffee left in it slopped over on the clean cloth.
"Jimmie doesn't own the barn," sniffed Brother crossly. "I guess we can just play in it without hurting any of his stuff."
"Here, here, what are you talking so long about?" demanded Molly good-naturedly.
She came to the dining-room door and inspected the table critically.
"Just as I thought," she said grimly. "Too much party yesterday! Sister, give me that cup and stop marking the cloth. Run off and play, both of you, till you get over being cross. I'd rather do the work myself than listen to you grumble."
Thus dismissed, Brother and Sister wandered off to the barn. They ought to have felt happy with the extra time for play, but, for some reason, they were decidedly uncomfortable.
"Everybody's busy," grumbled Brother. "Nobody cares what we do. Louise and Grace are sewing, and Mother is going to make strawberry jam. Let's try the rings, Betty."
They were inside the old barn now, and the swinging rings had always fascinated Sister. But she knew that Jimmie had said they were not to touch them, and indeed Daddy Morrison had warned the children not to play in the barn unless some of the older boys were with them.
"It is really Jimmie's and Ralph's gymnasium," he had explained. "They know how to use the apparatus, and you don't. When you are older, Jimmie will teach you and you may play there all you wish."
Sister looked longingly at the rings when Brother suggested them.
"Where's Jimmie?" she asked cautiously.
"Up in his room studying," answered Brother confidently.
Jimmie had been "conditioned" in the June examinations, and now spent part of every vacation day studying so that he might take another test before school opened in the fall.
"All right," agreed Sister, assured that Jimmie was not likely to walk in upon them. "How'll we get the rings untied?"
The rings were fastened up out of the way, tied to a nail on the side wall, so that when not in use they did not take up any room. Jimmie could reach this nail easily, but, of course, it was far above Brother's head.
"I'll get the step-ladder," announced Brother confidently. "You hold it for me."
The step-ladder was an old one and inclined to wobble. Brother mounted it slowly, and Sister sat down on the lowest step to hold it steady. Her weight was not enough to anchor the ladder, and it still shook crazily when Brother reached the highest step and stood on his tiptoes to reach the string that held the swings on the nail.
"What are you kids up to now?" a voice asked suddenly.
It was Jimmie! He had come out to the barn to get a book he had left in the corner cupboard.
Sister jumped to her feet, startled. Her elbow brushed the wobbily ladder and over it went, carrying Brother with it. He was too surprised to cry out.
"Are you hurt? Of all the crazy actions?" Jimmie scolded vigorously as he rushed to his small brother's rescue.
Fortunately for him, Brother had landed on one of the heavy, thick, quilted pads that were on the floor. The boys used them when on the apparatus in case they fell. Brother was not hurt at all, but he was frightened, and when Jimmie picked him up he was crying bitterly.
"I've a good mind to tell Father," continued Jimmie, who, of the three older boys, was less inclined to leniency with the performances of Brother and Sister. "Next time you might be badly hurt, and then it would be too late to punish you. Come here, Sister."
Sister came reluctantly.
"What were you trying to do?" said Jimmie grimly.
"Trying to use the swinging rings," answered Sister meekly.
"There's nothing to do," wailed Brother forlornly. "Everybody's busy and no one wants to play. And you don't own this barn, Jimmie Morrison—so there!"
"Perhaps I don't," retorted Jimmie. "But Dad happens to have given me the use of it. And you're going to stay out if I have to put a padlock on the door. You've got all outdoors to play in—can't you find something pleasant to do?"
"Betty! Roddy!" called Nellie Yarrow from her side of the hedge. "Betty! Come on out, I want to tell you something."
Brother and Sister ran toward the door.
"Wait a second!" shouted Jimmie. "Turn around."
They looked back at him. He was smiling.
"No hard feelings?" he suggested.
Sister dimpled and Brother laughed.
"No hard feelings," they chuckled and ran on down to the hedge.
That was the way the Morrison family always smoothed out their disputes. There was so many of them that they really could not be expected to be always pleasant and never quarrel, but every disagreement was, sooner or later, sure to end with the cheerful announcement, "No hard feelings."
"I suppose they ought to have a place of their own to play in," said Jimmie to himself when the children had gone. "I wonder if—"
He had an idea which for the present he meant to keep to himself.
"Hello!" Nellie Yarrow greeted Brother and Sister. "What do you think?"
"What?" asked Sister, apparently unable to think.
Nellie Yarrow pointed her finger as one having important news to tell.
"The haunted house is rented!" she said, excitedly.
The "haunted" house was an object of curiosity to every child in Ridgeway. It was a small, shabby brown shingled dwelling on one of the side streets, and it was whispered that a man had once seen a "ghost" sitting at one of the windows. That was enough. Ever after no boy or girl would go past the house at night, if it were possible to avoid it, and the more timid ran by it even in the day time. Of course they should have known there are no such things as "ghosts," but some of them didn't.
"Who is going to live in it?" asked Sister curiously. "Don't you suppose they will be afraid?"
"Well, I wouldn't live in it," declared Nellie positively. "Some folks don't care anything about ghosts, though. Let's go down and watch 'em carry in the furniture."
Not many new families moved into Ridgeway during the year, and a June moving was something of an event. The children found a little group of folk watching the green van backed up to the gate. Two colored men were carrying in furniture, and an old lady with her head tied up in a towel was sweeping off the narrow front porch.
"Gee, she's got a parrot!" cried a ragged, redheaded little boy who was trying to walk on top of the sharp pickets.
He was barefooted and the pickets were very sharp, so when the moving—van man, having put down the parrot and its cage on the porch, pretended to run straight toward him, the boy lost his balance and fell. He was up in a moment and running down the street as fast as though the furniture man were really chasing him.
"Sister!" Brother spoke excitedly. "That's the little boy I told you about. We saw him downtown, Louise and I, when we were buying things for the fishpond for my birthday; remember? Only he didn't have a rag on his foot today."
"He used to be in my class at school," said Nellie. "Oh, look at all the boxes of books!"
Brother meant to ask Nellie what the redheaded boy's name was, but she had danced out to the van to see how large it was inside, and when she came back Brother had forgotten his question.
"My father says an old lady is going to live here," volunteered Francis Rider, a freckle-faced lad of ten or twelve. "She lives all by herself, and she doesn't like noise. Her name is Miss Putnam."
Neither, they were to learn, did Miss Putnam like company, especially that of boys and girls.
When the last piece of furniture had been carried in, and the van had driven creakingly off down the street, the old lady, with her head tied in the towel, was seen approaching the fence.
"That's Miss Putnam," whispered Francis.
"Get off that fence!" cried Miss Putnam, brandishing her broom. "Get off! I'm not going to have my fence broken down by a parcel of young ones. Go on home, I tell you!"
The children scrambled down and scattered like leaves. Francis, when he was a safe distance up the street, put out his tongue and made a face at Miss Putnam. The old lady continued to stand by the gate and shake her broom threateningly as long as there was a child in sight.
"The Collins house is rented at last," said Daddy Morrison at the supper table that night. "I came through there on my way home from the station, and there was a light in the kitchen window. I wonder who has taken it?"
"I know, Daddy," answered Louise quickly. "An aunt of Mrs. Collins has rented it. She is a Miss Putnam and she makes lovely braided rugs for the art and craft shops in the city. Sue Loftis told me."
"Well, she's cross as—as anything!" struck in Brother severely. "She chased us all off her fence this morning; didn't she, Betty?"
"Yes, she did," nodded Sister. "And we weren't doing a thing 'cept watch her move in. Francis Rider stuck out his tongue at her, and she called him a 'brat.'"
Daddy Morrison glanced at her sharply.
"Don't let me hear of either of you annoying Miss Putnam in any way," he said sternly. "I know how children can sometimes, without meaning it, bother an elderly and crochety person. Miss Putnam has every right to keep her house and yard for herself, and if she is 'cross,' as you call it, that is her affair, too. My advice to you youngsters is to stay away from the Collins house."
"Now will you be good?" said Ralph, catching Sister by her short skirts as she attempted to slip past him as he sat in one of the comfortable porch rockers.
The family had scattered after supper, and only Ralph and Jimmie were on the front porch.
"The day after a party is always unlucky," observed Jimmie, tweaking his little sister's hair-ribbon playfully. "You and Brother have had more than your share of scolding today, haven't you, Sister?"
To his surprise, and Ralph's, Sister's small foot in its patent leather slipper and white sock struck at him viciously.
"Why, Elizabeth Morrison!" exclaimed Ralph, lifting the little girl to his lap and holding her firmly there in spite of her struggles. "I'm astonished at you. What are you kicking Jimmie for?"
"Go way!" cried Sister furiously, as Jimmie tried to see her face. "Go way—you're a mean, hateful boy!"
"Quit it!" commanded Ralph, giving her a little shake. "Stop acting like this, Sister, or I'll take you in and put you to bed!"
Sister knew he was quite capable of doing this very thing and she stopped struggling.
"Jimmie is just as mean!" she sobbed, burying her head in Ralph's coat.
"What have I done?" demanded Jimmie, much surprised.
"You've gone and put a padlock on the barn door!" flashed Sister, sitting up and drying her eyes.
Jimmie laughed, and Ralph laughed a little too.
"Well, I haven't locked the door for the reason you think," explained Jimmie kindly. "It isn't just to keep you and Brother out, Sister. I'm making you something nice, and I don't want you to see it until it is all finished."
"All right," conceded Sister graciously. "I thought maybe you didn't want Brother and me to play in the barn."
"No hard feelings, then?" inquired Jimmie, holding out his hand.
And—"No hard feelings," admitted Sister, smiling after the "salt-water shower."
The "haunted" house continued to be an attraction to the children of the neighborhood even after Miss Putnam moved in, and the ghost might reasonably be supposed to have moved out. Alas, it was Miss Putnam herself who now supplied the thrills.
Miss Putnam, you see, had never had much to do with children, and she thought she disliked them very much indeed. Boys, in her opinion, made a great deal of noise and girls always giggled and were silly. So whenever she saw a child hanging over her gate, or even stopping to glance at her house, she was apt to come charging out at them with a broom. The younger ones were afraid of her and the older, larger boys naughtily enjoyed provoking the poor old lady. So it was soon a common sight to see several boys flying up the street, Miss Putnam after them, waving her broom wildly.
Brother and Sister, mindful of Daddy Morrison's warning, never actually did anything to make Miss Putnam chase them. But it must be confessed that they used to walk through the street on which she lived, in the hope of seeing her chase someone. Ridgeway was a quiet place in summer time, and any excitement was welcome.
For several days after Sister's outburst because of the locked barn door, Jimmie worked away busily in his beloved gymnasium. He would not let either Brother or Sister as much as put their noses inside the door, and when they tried to find out from Molly what he was doing—for Molly could usually be depended upon to know what everyone in the family was up to—she simply shook her head and said she had promised not to tell.
"I wish," said Sister for the tenth time one warm morning, "I wish there was something new to do."
"So do I," agreed Brother. "There's Jimmie—he's beckoning to us."
Jimmie stood in the barn doorway, motioning the children to come in.
Brother and Sister jumped down the three back steps in one leap and raced toward the barn.
"Want to see what I've been making?" asked Jimmie proudly, "Come on in, and look—there!"
The tools from the carpenter's bench which occupied one side of the barn were scattered about on the floor where Jimmie had been using them. All Brother and Sister could see was a wide, rather shallow box, painted a dark green.
"Is it—is it a boat?" ventured Sister doubtfully.
"What's it for?" asked Brother.
"It's for you to play with," explained Jimmie. "I thought maybe you would help me carry it out under the horsechestnut tree in the side yard."
"But how do we play with it?" insisted Brother. "Is it a game, Jimmie?"
"Put your hand in that bag back of you," directed Jimmie. "Perhaps then you can guess."
A burlap bag, opened, stood close to Sister. She and Brother plunged their hands in and drew them out filled with something that trickled swiftly through their fingers.
"Sand!" they shouted. "Seashore sand! Oh, Jimmie, is it a sandbox?"
Jimmie nodded, smiling. He knew they had long wanted a sandbox, and like the dear, good brother he was, he had spent his mornings sawing and fitting and smoothing off boards to make a nice, strong box.
"What fun!" Sister bounced up and down with pleasure. "Can we play with it right away?"
"Don't know why not," said Jimmie. "You two take one end, and we'll carry it out under the tree. Mother thought that was the best place because it will be shady most of the day for you."
They carried the box out to the tree, and then Jimmie brought the bag of sand on the wheelbarrow and dumped it into the box.
"Just like the seashore!" beamed Brother. "Thank you ever so much, Jimmie."
"Yes, thank you ever so much, Jimmie," echoed Sister, jumping up and standing on tiptoe to kiss Jimmie. "It's the nicest box!"
Jimmie pretended that it wasn't much to do, but of course he was very much pleased that his little brother and sister should be so delighted. Big brothers often pretend that they don't want anyone to make a fuss over the presents they give or the nice things they do, but just the same they are secretly glad when their efforts are appreciated.
"Here's fifty cents for each of you," announced Jimmie, pulling some change from his pocket and handing two quarters to Brother and a shiny half-dollar to Sister. "If Mother is willing for you to go downtown you can get some sand-toys."
Mother Morrison was willing they should go if they would remember to be careful about automobiles and if they would promise to be back within an hour.
The Morrison house was not very near the section of Ridgeway which contained the shops and stores, but the children often took the long walk alone. There were no trolleys to be careful about, except the one line that ran to the city, but the automobile traffic was rather heavy and one had to remember to stop and look both ways before crossing a street.
"Let's take Brownie with us," suggested Brother, when they were ready to start out to spend their wealth. "We can carry him if he gets tired."
The fat little collie puppy wagged his tail cordially. He loved to go walking and felt that too often he was neglected when he should have been invited. He always wore his silver collar, and Louise had given Brother a little leather leash that could be snapped on when he took the dog outside the yard.
"Want to go, Brownie?" asked Sister. "Want to go out?"
Brownie barked sharply. Indeed, he did want to go!
Brother and Sister took turns leading him, and before they had gone very far they met Nellie Yarrow. She offered to go with them and she was much interested to hear that there was a new sandbox in the Morrison yard.
"I'll come over and play with you this afternoon," she promised. "Let me lead Brownie, Roddy?"
Brother gave her the leash, watching her anxiously. Nellie was sometimes careless with other people's property, he had learned, though she was so generous with her own it was hard to refuse her anything.
"Don't let him get away," he cautioned.
Nellie opened her mouth to say "I won't," when with a sudden jerk Brownie tore the leather line from her hand and dashed into the road.
"Here comes a big motor-truck!" screamed Sister. "Brownie will be run over and killed!"