All the boys of the club, not one to be reported absent, presented themselves at Mr. King's on club night. And all the members of the “Salisbury School Club” came promptly together, with one new member, Cathie Harrison, who, at Polly's suggestion, had been voted in at the last meeting.
Alexia still had her arm in a sling; and indeed she was quite willing it should remain so, for she was in constant terror that her aunt, who had been persuaded to leave her, would insist on the return home. So Alexia begged off at every mention of the subject, as Grandpapa King and Mother Fisher were very glad to have the visit lengthened. She was as gay as ever, and to-night was quite in her element; it had been so long since she had had a good time.
“Oh, Jasper,” she cried, “can we all get into your den?”
“I think so,” said Jasper, who had already settled all that with Polly, counting every member as coming, in order to make no mistake, “we're to have the business-meeting in there, Alexia; and after that, father has invited us in to the drawing-room.”
“What richness!” exclaimed Alexia, sinking into one of the library chairs to pull out her skirts and play with her rings. “Oh, Jasper King, I shouldn't think you'd ever in all this world get used to living in this perfectly exquisite house.”
“Well, I've always lived here, Alexia,” said Jasper with a laugh, “so I suppose that is thereason I'm not overwhelmed now. Oh, here comes Clare. All right, old fellow, glad you've come. Now I'll call the meeting to order.” For Clare was the secretary.
And the rest of the boys and girls assembling, the business-meeting was soon begun in the “den,” Jasper who was the president of the boys' club, flourishing his gavel in great style.
“Now we've come together,” announced the president after the regular business was disposed of, “to get up a plan by which we can accomplish something more than merely to have a good time.”
“Nonsense!” interrupted Clare, “we want a good time.”
“For shame!” Jasper pounded his gavel to restore order. “And to begin with, it is as well to announce at once that all unruly members will be put out,” with a stern glance at the secretary.
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Clare, huddling down into his big chair.
“Go along, Prex,” said Pickering, coming over from the other side of the room, “I'll sit on that old secretary if he makes any more trouble.”
“Get away!” laughed Clare; “that's worse than being put out.”
“Oh, I'll sit on you first, and then I'll carry out the pieces afterward. Sail on, Prexy, they all want the plan.”
“Well”—the president cleared his throat—“hem! And in order to do good work, why we had to ask the girls' club to come to this meeting, and—”
“Not necessarily,” put in Clare.
Pickering pounced for him, but instead of sitting on him, his long figure doubled up in the big chair, while the secretary slipped neatly out.
“Ha, ha! did you ever get left?” giggled Clare, at a safe distance.
“Many a time, my dear child,” said Pickering coolly, leaning back restfully, “but never in such a good seat. Thank you, Mr. Secretary. Proceed, Prexy.”
“Good for you, Pickering,” cried Alexia, while the laugh went around.
“Order!” cried Jasper, pounding away. “Now that our troublesome secretary is quieted, I will proceed to say that as we want the plan to succeed, we invited the Salisbury Club this evening.”
“Thank you, Mr. President,” the girls clapped vigorously.
“So now after I tell you of the object, I wantyou to express your minds about the various plans that will be laid before you.” Then Jasper told the story of Jim, the brakeman; and how Grandpapa and Polly and he had gone to the poor home, thanks to the little clerk; and how the three boys who were waiting for education and the girl who was crazy to take music-lessons, to say nothing of the two mites of children toddling around, made the poor widow almost frantic as she thought of their support; until some of the girls were sniffling and hunting for their handkerchiefs, and the boys considerately turned away and wouldn't look at them.
“Now you tell the rest, Polly,” cried Jasper, quite tired out.
“Oh, no, you tell,” said Polly, who dearly loved to hear Jasper talk.
“Do, Polly,” and he pushed the hair off from his forehead. So, as she saw he really wanted her to, Polly began with shining eyes, and glowing cheeks, to finish the story.
And she told how Grandpapa had ordered provisions and coal for the poor widow enough for many months to come; and how—oh, wasn't that perfectly splendid in dear Grandpapa?—he had promised that the little girl (Arethusa washer name) should take music-lessons from one of the teachers in the city. And Polly clasped her hands and sighed, quite unable to do more.
“And what do you want us to do?” cried the secretary forgetting all about losing his seat, to crowd up to the table. “Say, if that family has got all that richness, what do you want the club to do?”
“Oh,” said Polly turning her shining eyes on him, “there are ever and ever so many things the boys and that girl will need, and Grandpapa says that they'll think a great deal more of help, if some young people take hold of it. And so I'm sure I should,” she added.
“It strikes me that I should, too,” declared Pickering, all his laziness gone. And getting his long figure out of the chair, he cried, “I move, Mr. President, that we,”—here he waved his hands in a sweeping gesture,—“the Salisbury Club and our club, unite in a plan to do something for that family.”
“I second the motion,” the secretary cried out, much to everybody's surprise, for Polly was all ready to do it if no one else offered to. So the vote was carried unanimously amid the greatest enthusiasm.
“Now what shall we do?” cried the president, jumping to his feet. “Let us strike while the iron is hot. What shall we do to raise money?”
“You said you had plans,” cried one of the girls.
“Yes—tell on,” cried several boys.
“Well, one is, that we have a play,” began Jasper.
“Oh—oh!”
Old Mr. King, over his evening paper off in the library, laid it down, and smiled at the merry din that reached him even at such a distance.
“And another,” cried the president, doing his best to make himself heard.
“Oh, we don't want another,” cried Clare, in which the united clubs joined.
“Don't you want to hear any other plans?” shouted the president.
“No, no—the play! Put it to vote, do, Jasper—I mean, Mr. President,” cried Alexia.
So the vote was taken, and everybody said, “Aye,” and as there wasn't a single “No,” why the “ayes” had it of course. And after that they talked so long over the general plan, that old Mr. King at last had to send a very special invitation to come out to the dining-room. And there wasMother Fisher and Mrs. Whitney and the little doctor and a most splendid collation! And then off to the big drawing-room to top off with a dance, with one or two musicians tucked up by the grand piano, and Grandpapa smiling in great satisfaction upon them all.
Top
“It can't rain,” cried Polly Pepper, “and it isn't going to. Don't think it, girls.”
“But it looks just like it,” said Alexia obstinately, and wrinkling up her brows; “see those awful, horrid clouds, girls.” She pointed tragically up to the sky.
“Don't look at them,” advised Polly. “Come on, girls. I challenge you to a race as far as the wicket gate.”
Away she dashed, with a bevy at her heels. Alexia, not to be left behind staring at the sky, went racing after.
“Wait,” she screamed. The racers, however, spent no time attending to laggards, but ran on.
Polly dashed ahead, and touched the green wicket gate. “Oh, Polly got there first!” Almost immediately came another girl's fingers on it.
“No—I don't think so,” panted Polly. “Philena got there just about as soon.”
“No, you were first,” said the girl who plunged up next; “I saw it distinctly.”
“Well, it was so near that we ought to have another race to decide it,” declared Polly, with a little laugh, pushing back the damp rings of hair from her forehead. “Girls, isn't it lovely that we have this splendid place where we can run, and nobody see us?”
“Yes,” said Alexia, throwing herself down on the grass; which example was immediately followed by all the other girls. “I just love this avenue down to the wicket gate, Polly Pepper.”
“So do I,” chimed in the others.
“Oh dear me! I'm just toasted and fried,” declared Alexia. “I neverwasso hot in all my life.”
“You shouldn' have run so, Alexia,” said Polly reproachfully, patting the arm still in its sling. “Oh, how could you!”
“Well, did you suppose I was going to see you all sprinting off and having such fun, and not try it too? No, indeed; that's asking too much, Polly.”
Then she threw herself at full length on the grass, and gazed at her meditatively.
“Well, we mustn't have the second race, Philena,”said Polly; “because if Alexia runs again, it surely will hurt her.”
“Ow!” exclaimed Alexia, flouncing up so suddenly that she nearly overthrew Amy Garrett, who was sitting next, and who violently protested against such treatment, “now I won't keep you back, Polly. Oh dear me! it can't hurt me a single bit. I'm all ready to take off this horrible old thing, you know I am, only Dr. Fisher thought—”
“He thought it would be safer to keep it on till after the picnic,” Polly was guilty of interrupting. “You know he said so, Alexia. No, we won't run again, girls,” Polly brought up quite decidedly.
“Polly, you shall; I won't run—I really won't; I'll shut my eyes,” and Alexia squinted up her pale eyes till her face was drawn up in a knot. “I'll turn my back, I'll do anything if you'll only race;pleasetry it again, Polly.”
So Polly, seeing that Alexia really wished it, dropped a kiss on each of the closed eyes. “Put your hand over them, and untwist your face from that funny knot,” she laughed. “Come on, girls,” and the race began.
Alexia twisted and wriggled, as the patteringfeet and quick breath of the girls when they neared her resting place, plunged her in dreadful distress not to look. “Oh dear—um! if I could just see once; um—um! I know Polly will win; oh dear! Shemust.”
But she didn't. It was Cathie Harrison, the new girl; that is, new to them, as they hadn't drawn her into their set, but a few weeks. She was a tall, thin girl, who got over the ground amazingly, to touch the green wicket gate certainly three seconds before Polly Pepper came flying up.
“You did that just splendidly, Cathie,” cried Polly breathlessly. “Oh dear me, thatwasa race!”
“Goodness me!” cried Alexia, her eyes flying open, “my face never'll get out of that knot in all this world. My! I feel as if my jaws were all tied up. Well, Polly, this time you beat for sure,” she added confidently, as the girls came running up to throw themselves on the grass again.
“But I didn't,” said Polly merrily. “Oh dear! Iamso hot.”
“Yes, you did,” declared Alexia stubbornly.
“Why, Alexia Rhys! I didn't beat, any sucha thing,” corrected Polly—“not a single bit of it.”
“Well, who did, then?” demanded Alexia, quite angry to have Polly defeated.
“Why, Cathie did,” said Polly, smiling over at her.
“What, that old—” then Alexia pulled herself up; but it was too late.
A dull red mounted to Cathie's sallow cheek, that hadn't changed color during all the two races. She drew a long breath, then got up slowly to her feet.
“I'm going to play bean-bags,” announced Polly briskly. “Come on, girls. See who'll get to the house first.”
“I'm going home,” said Cathie, hurrying up to wedge herself into the group, and speaking to Polly. “Good-bye.”
“No,” said Polly, “we're going to play bean-bags. Come on, Cathie.” She tried to draw Cathie's hand within her arm, but the girl pulled herself away. “I must go home—” and she started off.
“Cathie—Cathie, wait,” but again Cathie beat her on a swift run down the avenue.
Alexia stuffed her fingers, regardless of arm inthe sling, or anything, into her mouth, and rolled over in dreadful distress, face downward on the grass. The other girls stood in a frightened little knot, just where they were, without moving, as Polly came slowly back down the avenue. She was quite white now. “Oh dear!” groaned Philena, “look at Polly!”
Alexia heard it, and stuffed her fingers worse than ever into her mouth to keep herself from screaming outright, and wriggled dreadfully. But no one paid any attention to her. She knew that Polly had joined the girls now; she could hear them talking, and Polly was saying, in a sad little voice, “Yes, I'm afraid she won't ever come with us again.”
“She must, she shall!” howled Alexia, rolling over, and sitting up straight. “Oh Polly, she shall!” and she wrung her long hands as well as she could for the arm in the sling.
“Oh, no, I am afraid not, Alexia,” and her head drooped; no one would have thought for a moment that it was Polly Pepper speaking.
And then Amy Garrett said the very worst thing possible: “And just think of that picnic!” And after that remark, the whole knot of girls was plunged into the depths of gloom.
Jasper, running down the avenue with Pickering Dodge at his heels, found them so, and was transfixed with astonishment. “Well, I declare!” He burst into a merry laugh.
“You look like a lot of wax figures,” said Pickering pleasantly; “just about as interesting.” Then they saw Polly Pepper's face.
“Oh, what is it?” cried Jasper, starting forward.
Polly tried to speak cheerfully, but the lump in her throat wouldn't let her say a word.
“If you boys must know,” said Alexia, flouncing up to her feet, “I've been bad and perfectly horrid to that Harrison girl; and I've upset everything; and—and—do go right straight away, both of you, and not stand there staring. I don't think it's very polite.”
“Oh Polly,” cried Jasper, gaining her side, “can't we help?” He was dreadfully distressed. “Do let us.”
Polly shook her head. “No, Jasper, there isn't anything you can do,” she said brokenly.
Pickering thrust his hands in his pockets, and whistled softly. “Girls always get into such rows,” he observed.
“Well, I guess we don't get into worse onesthan you boys do, nor half as bad,” cried Alexia crossly, perfectly wild to quarrel with somebody. “And, besides, this isn't the other girls' fault. It's all my fight from beginning to end.”
“Then you ought to be perfectly ashamed of yourself, Alexia,” declared Pickering, not intending to mince matters in the slightest.
“Well, I am,” said Alexia, “just as ashamed as I can be. Oh dear me! I wish I could cry. But I'm too bad to cry. Polly Pepper, I'm going to run after that horrible Harrison girl. Oh misery! I wish she never had come to the Salisbury School.” Alexia made a mad rush down the avenue.
“Don't, Alexia, you'll hurt your arm,” warned Polly.
“I don't care—I hope I shall,” cried Alexia recklessly.
“It's no use to try to stop her,” said Jasper, “so let us go up to the house, Polly.”
So they started dismally enough, the girls, all except Polly, going over in sorry fashion how Cathie Harrison would probably make a fuss about the little affair—she was doubtless on her way to Miss Salisbury's now—and then perhaps there wouldn't be any picnic at all on the morrow.At this, Philena stopped short. “Girls, that would be too dreadful,” she gasped, “for anything!”
“Well, it would be just like her,” said Silvia Horne, “and I wish we never had taken her into our set. She's an old moping thing, and can't bear a word.”
“I wish so too,” declared Amy Garrett positively; “she doesn't belong with us; and she's always going to make trouble. And I hope she won't go to the picnic anyway, if we do have it, so there.”
“I don't think that is the way to mend the matter, Amy,” said Jasper gravely.
“Hoh, hoh!” exclaimed Pickering, “how you girls can go on so, I don't see; talking forever about one thing, instead of just settling it with a few fisticuffs. That would be comfortable now.”
The girls, one and all, turned a cold shoulder to him after this speech.
“Well, we sha'n't get the picnic now, I know,” said Philena tragically; “and think of all our nice things ready. Dear me! our cook made me the sweetest chocolate cakes, because we were going to start so early in the morning. Now we'll have them for dinner, and eat them up ourselves. We might as well.”
“You better not,” advised Pickering. “Take my advice; you'll get your picnic all right; then where would you be with your cakes all eaten up?”
“You don't know Miss Salisbury,” said Sally Moore gloomily; “nothing would make her so mad as to have us get up a fuss with a new scholar. She was so pleased when Polly Pepper invited that Harrison girl to come to our bee for that poor family down South.”
“And now, just think how we've initiated her into our club!” said Lucy Bennett, with a sigh. “Oh my goodness—look!”
She pointed off down the avenue. All the girls whirled around to stare. There were Alexia and Cathie, coming toward them arm in arm.
“Jasper”—Polly turned to him with shining eyes—“see!” Then she broke away from them all, and rushed to meet the two girls.
“There isn't anybody going to say a word,” announced Alexia, as the three girls came up to the group, Polly Pepper in the middle, “because, as I told you, it was all my fight, anyway. So, Pickering, you needn't get ready to be disagreeable,” she flashed over at him saucily.
“I shall say just what I think,” declared Pickering flatly.
“No doubt,” said Alexia sweetly, “but it won't make a bit of difference. Well, now, Polly, what shall we do? Do start us on something.”
“We came, Pick and I,” announced Jasper, “to ask you girls to have a game of bean-bags. There's just time before dinner—on the south lawn, Polly.”
“Oh, good—good!” cried the girls, clapping their hands. “Come on, Cathie,” said Philena awkwardly, determined to break the ice at once.
“Yes, Cathie, come on,” said Amy and Silvia, trying to be very nice.
Cathie just got her mouth ready to say, “No, I thank you,” primly, thought better of it, and before she quite realized it herself, there she was, hurrying by a short cut across the grass to the south lawn.
“I'm going to stay with Alexia,” said Polly, when they all reached there, and Jasper flew over to pull out the bean-bags from their box under the piazza. “Come on, Alexia, let's you and I sit in the hammock and watch it.”
“Oh Polly, come and play,” begged Jasper, pausing with his arms full. “Here, Pick, you lazy dog. Help with these bags.”
“Can't,” said Polly, shaking her head. So Alexia and she curled up in one of the hammocks.
“I'm just dying to tell you all about it, Polly Pepper,” said Alexia, pulling Polly's cheek down to her own.
“Yes,” said Polly happily, “and I can't wait to hear it; and besides, you can't play bean-bags, Alexia, with that arm. Well, do go on,” and Polly was in quite a twitter for the story to begin.
“You see,” said Alexia, “I knew something desperate had got to be done, Polly, for she was crying all over her best silk waist.”
“Oh dear me!” exclaimed Polly, aghast.
“Yes; she had sat down on the kitchen step.”
“The kitchen step,” repeated Polly faintly.
“Yes. I suppose she got beyond caring whether the cook saw or not, she was feeling so very badly. Well, there she was, and she didn't hear me, so I just rushed up, or rather down upon her, and then I screamed 'Ow!' And she jumped up, and said, 'Oh, have you hurt your arm?' And I held on to it hard, and made up an awful face, oh, as bad as I could, and doubled up; and the cook came to the door, and said could she get me anything, and she was going to callMrs. Fisher. That would have been terrible.” Alexia broke off short, and drew a long breath at her remembrance of the fright this suggestion had given her. “And Cathie fell right on my neck with, 'Oh, do forgive me,' and I said 'twas my fault, and she said, no, she oughtn't to have got mad, and I said she must hold her tongue.”
“Oh Alexia!” cried Polly reprovingly.
“I had to,” said Alexia serenely, “or we should have gotten into another fight. And she said she would, and I just took hold of her arm, and dragged her down here. And I'm tired to death,” finished Alexia plaintively.
“Alexia,” exclaimed Polly, cuddling up the long figure in a way to give perfect satisfaction, “we must make Cathie Harrison have the best time that she ever had, at the picnic to-morrow.”
“I suppose so,” said Alexia resignedly. “Well, but don't let's think of it now, for I've got you, Polly, and I want to rest.”
Top
The four barges were to leave the “Salisbury School” at precisely half-past eight o'clock the next morning. Miss Salisbury was always very particular about being prompt, so woe be to any girl who might be late! There was great scurrying, therefore, to and fro in the homes of the day scholars. And the girls hurried off with maids behind carrying their baskets; or, as the case might be, big family carriages filled with groups of girls collected among those of a set; or in little pony carriages. All this made the thoroughfares adjacent to the “Salisbury School” extremely busy places indeed.
Mother Fisher sent Polly's basket over to the school, at an early hour, Polly preferring to walk, several of the girls having called for her. So they all, with Jasper, who was going as far as the corner with them, set out amidst a chatter of merry nonsense.
“Oh girls, Iamso glad we are going to theGlen!” exclaimed Polly, for about the fiftieth time.
“So am I,” cried all the others in a chorus.
“Why, you haven't ever been to any other place for your picnic, have you, Polly?” cried Jasper, with a laugh.
“No,” said Polly, “we never have. But suppose Miss Salisbury had decided to try some other spot this year; oh, just suppose it, Jasper!” and her rosy color died down on her cheek. “It would have been just too dreadful for anything.”
“We couldn't have had our picnic in any other place,” declared Rose Harding; “it wouldn't be the same unless it was at the Glen.”
“Dear old Glen!” cried Polly impulsively. “Jasper, it's too bad you boys can't all come to our picnics.”
“I know it. It would be no end jolly if we only could,” said Jasper regretfully, to whom it was a great grief that the picnic couldn't take in the two schools.
“Yes,” said Polly, with a sigh, “it would, Jasper. But Miss Salisbury never will in all this world let the boys' school join.”
“No, I suppose not,” said Jasper, stifling hislonging; “well, you must tell me about it to-night, the same as always, Polly.”
“Yes, I will, Jasper,” promised Polly. So he turned the corner, to go to his school. But presently he heard rapid footsteps back of him. “Oh Jasper,” cried Polly, flushed and panting, as he whirled about, “tell Phronsie I won't forget the little fern-roots. Be sure, Jasper.”
“All right; I will,” said Jasper. “Dear me! do hurry back, Polly. You'll be late.”
“Oh no, there are oceans of time,” said Polly, with a little laugh. “I've the tin case in my picnic basket, Jasper, so they will keep all fresh and nice.”
“Yes; do hurry back,” begged Jasper. So Polly, with a merry nod, raced off to the corner where the girls were drawn up in a knot, impatiently waiting for her.
Every bit of the fuss and parade in getting the big company started—for all the scholars went to the annual picnic—was a special delight to the girls. The only trouble was that the seats were not all end ones, while the favorite places up by the driver were necessarily few in each vehicle.
“Come on, Polly,” screamed Alexia. Everybody had agreed that she should have one ofthese choice positions because of her lame arm, which Dr. Fisher had said must be carried in its sling this day. So there she was, calling lustily for Polly Pepper, and beating the cushion impatiently with her well hand. “Oh,dohurry up!”
Polly, down on the ground in a swarm of girls, shook her head. “No,” her lips said softly, so that no one but Alexia, who was leaning over for that purpose, could possibly hear, “ask Cathie.”
“Oh bother!” exclaimed Alexia, with a frown. Then she smothered it up with a “Come, Polly,” very persuasively.
“Can't,” said Polly; “I'm going back here.” And she moved down to the end of the barge.
“Then I'm going back too.” Alexia gave a frantic dive to get down from the barge.
Miss Salisbury saw it; and as she had planned to give Alexia just that very pleasure of riding on the front seat, she was naturally somewhat disturbed. “No, no, my dear,” seeing Alexia's efforts to get down, “stay where you are.”
“Oh dear me!” Alexia craned her long neck around the side of the vehicle, to spy Polly's movements. “I don't want to be mewed up here,” she cried discontentedly. But Miss Salisbury, feeling well satisfied with her plan formaking Alexia happy, had moved off. And the babel and tumult waged so high, over the placing of the big company, all the girls chattering and laughing at once, that Alexia, call as she might, began to despair of attracting Polly's attention, or Cathie's either for that matter.
“You better set down,” said the driver, an old man whom Miss Salisbury employed every year to superintend the business, “and make yourself comfortable.”
“But I'm not in the least comfortable,” said Alexia passionately, “and I don't want to be up here. I want to get down.”
“But you can't,”—the old man seemed to fairly enjoy her dismay,—“'cause she, you know,” pointing a short square thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Miss Salisbury, “told ye to set still. So ye better set.”
But Alexia craned her neck yet more, and called insistently, “Polly—oh, Polly!”
Miss Anstice looked up from the bevy of girls she was settling in another barge. “Alexia Rhys,” she said severely, “you must be quiet; it is impossible to get started unless all you girls are going to be tractable and obedient.”
“Miss Anstice,”—Alexia formed a suddenbold resolve,—“please come here. I want you very much,” she said sweetly.
Miss Anstice, pleased to be wanted very much, or indeed at all, left her work, and went over to the front barge where Alexia was raging inwardly.
“Miss Anstice, I need Polly Pepper up next to me,” said Alexia, “oh, so much. She knows all about my arm, you know; her father fixed it for me. Will you please have her come up here? Then if I should feel worse, she could help me.”
Miss Anstice peered here and there in her nearsighted fashion. “I don't see Polly Pepper,” she said.
“There she is; there she is,” cried Alexia, trembling in every limb, for her plan could not be said to be a complete success yet, and pointing eagerly to the end of her barge; “she's the fourth from the door, Miss Anstice. Oh, how lovely you are!”
Miss Anstice, quite overcome to be told she was lovely, and especially by Alexia, who had previously given her no reason to suppose that she entertained any such opinion, went with great satisfaction down the length of the barge, andstanding on her tiptoes, said very importantly, “Polly Pepper, I want to place you differently.”
So Polly, quite puzzled, but very obedient, crawled out from her seat, where she was wedged in between two girls not of her set, who had been perfectly radiant at their good fortune, and clambering down the steps, was, almost before she knew it, installed up on the front row, by Alexia's side.
“Oh Polly, what richness!” exclaimed that individual in smothered accents, as Miss Anstice stepped off in much importance, and hugging Polly. “I'm so glad my sling is on, for I never'd gotten you up here without the old thing,” and she giggled as she told the story.
“Oh Alexia!” exclaimed Polly, quite shocked.
“Well, I may get a relapse in it, you don't know,” said Alexia coolly, “so you really ought to be up here. Oh my goodness me! I forgot this man,” she brought up suddenly. “Do you suppose he'll tell?” She peered around anxiously past Polly.
“Ef you'll set still, I won't tell that teacher,” said the old man with a twinkle in his eye, “but ef you get to carryin' on, as I should think you could ef you set out to, I'll up an' give the whole thing to her.”
“Oh, I'll sit as still as a mouse,” promised Alexia. “Oh Polly, isn't he a horrible old thing!” in a stage whisper under cover of the noise going on around them.
“Hush,” said Polly.
“Well, I'm not going to hush,” cried Alexia recklessly; “I'm going to have a good time at the picnic to-day, and do just everything I want to, so there, Polly Pepper!”
“Very well,” said Polly, “then when we get to the Glen, I shall go off with the other girls, Alexia,” which had the desired effect. Alexia curled up into her corner, and hanging to Polly Pepper's arm, was just like a mouse for quiet. And off they went; the old man's whip going crack—snap!as he led the way with a grand flourish, as much better than his efforts of former years, as was possible!
The road led through winding, woodsy paths, redolent of sweet fern; the girls never tired of its delights, exclaiming at all the sights and sounds of country life at all such moments as were not filled to the brim with the songs that ran over from their happy hearts. So on and up they went to the Glen, a precipitous ravine some fifteen miles out from the city.
When the barges finally drew up with another grand flourish at the entrance, a smooth grassy plateau shaded by oaks and drooping elms, they simply poured out a stream of girls from each conveyance; the old man and his companion drivers laughing to see them tumble out. “Pretty quick work, eh, Bill?” said old man Kimball, “no screaming for first places now.”
“It's the same beautiful, dear old Glen!” exclaimed Polly, with kindling eyes and dancing feet. “Oh Alexia, come on!” and seizing the well hand, they spun round and round, unable to keep still, having plenty of company, all the other girls following suit.
Polly looked at her little watch. “In five minutes we must stop. It'll be time to get the flowers.”
“Oh, can we?” cried Alexia. “Misery me! I'm so tired cooped up in that barge, I feel stiff as a jointed doll, Polly Pepper.”
“Well, I don't,” said Polly, dancing away for dear life. “Oh Alexia, when Miss Salisbury gives the signal to explore, won't it be just fun!”
“I should say,” cried Alexia, unable to find words that would just express the case.
There was always one routine to be observedin the annual picnic of the “Salisbury School,” and no one thought for a moment of deviating from it. The maids collected the baskets taken from the wagons, and set them in a cool, shady place among the rocks just within the Glen. The girls ran hither and thither to collect flowers and ferns to drape Miss Salisbury's seat of honor, and one as near like it as possible for Miss Anstice. These were big crevices in the rocks, that were as comfortable as chairs, and having backs to them in the shape of boulders, they were truly luxurious. Indeed, Miss Salisbury had declared, when the seats were discovered by Polly Pepper at the first picnic after she joined the “Salisbury School,” that she never sat in one more comfortable; and she was so pleased when she was led to it and inducted therein, all flower-trimmed with little vines trailing off, and arching over her head.
“Why, my dears!” she exclaimed, quite overcome. “Oh, how pretty! and how did you think of it?”
“It was Polly Pepper who thought of it,” said a parlor boarder. And Polly, blushing rosy red, a new girl as she was, was led up, and Miss Salisbury set a kiss on her round cheek. Polly never forgot how happy she was that day.
And afterward, when the girls were busy in various little groups, Miss Salisbury had beckoned Polly to her side where she reposed on her throne; for it was beautiful and stately enough for one, and quite worthy of royalty itself.
“Polly,” said Miss Salisbury, in quite a low tone only fitted for Polly's ear, “do you think you could find a seat, like this beautiful one of mine, for sister? I should really enjoy it so very much more if sister had one also and she would prize the attention very much, Polly, from you girls.”
So Polly, fired with the laudable desire to find one exactly like Miss Salisbury's very own, for “sister,” at last was just so fortunate. So that was also flower-trimmed, with trailing vines to finish it off with. And every year, the first thing the girls did after dancing around a bit to rest their feet after the long drive, was to set to work to collect the vines and ferns, and decorate the two stone seats.
Then with quite a good deal of pomp and ceremony, the girls escorted the two teachers to their thrones, unpacked the little bag of books and magazines, and arranged some cushions and shawls about them. And then Miss Salisburyalways said with a sweet smile, “Thank you, my dears.” And Miss Anstice said the same; although, try as hard as she would, her smile never could be sweet like Miss Salisbury's. And then off the girls would go to “exploring,” as they called rambling in the Glen, the under-teachers taking them in charge.
And now Polly Pepper ran to her hamper, which she saw in a pile where the baskets had been heaped by the maids. “There it is,” pointing to the tag sticking up; “oh, help me,—not you, Alexia,” as Alexia ran up as usual, to help forward any undertaking Polly Pepper might have in mind. “Dear me! you might almost kill your arm.”
“This old arm,” cried Alexia,—“I'm sick and tired of it.”
“Well, you better take care of it,” cried Polly gaily, “and then it won't be an old arm, but it will be as good as brand new, Alexia. Oh, one of the other girls, do come and help me.”
“What do you want, Polly?” cried some of the girls, racing up to her.
“I want to get out my hamper,” said Polly, pointing to the tag sticking up “high and dry” amid a stack of baskets. “My tin botany caseis in it; I must get the ferns I promised to bring home to Phronsie.”
“You stand away, all of ye.” The old man Kimball, his horses out of the shafts, and well taken care of, now drew near, and swept off with his ample hand the bunch of girls. “Which one is't? Oh, that ere one with the tag,” answering his own question. “Well, now, I'll git that for you jest as easy as rolling off a log. One—two—three—there she comes!”
And, one, two, three, and here she did come! And in a trice Polly had the cover up, and out flew the little green tin botany case; and within it being an iron spoon and little trowel, off flew Polly on happy feet to unearth the treasures that were to beautify Phronsie's little garden; a bunch of girls following to see the operation.
The magazine fell idly to the lap of Miss Salisbury. She sat dreamily back, resting her head against the boulder. “Sister,” she said softly, “this is a happy custom we have started. I trust nothing will ever prevent our holding our annual picnic.”
“Yes,” said Miss Anstice absently. She was very much interested in a story she had begun, and she hated to have Miss Salisbury say a word.Although she had on a stiff, immaculate white gown (for on such a festival as the annual picnic, she always dressed in white), still she was not in the same sweet temper that the principal was enjoying, and she held her thumb and finger in the place.
“Yes, the picnic is very good,” she said, feeling that something was expected of her, “if we didn't get worms and bugs crawling over the tablecloth.”
“Oh sister!” exclaimed Miss Salisbury, quite shocked; “it is no time to think of worms and bugs, I'm sure, on such a beautiful occasion as this.”
“Still, they are here,” said Miss Anstice; “there is one now,” looking down at the hem of her gown. “Ugh!go right away,” slapping her book at it. Then her thumb and finger flew out, and she lost her place, and the bug ran away, and she added somewhat tartly, “For my own taste, I should really prefer a festival in the schoolroom.”
When it came to spreading the feast, not one of the maids was allowed to serve. They could unpack the hampers, and hand the dishes and eatables to the girls, and run, and wait, and tend.But no one but the Salisbury girls must lay the snowy cloth, dress it up with flowers, with little knots at the corners, concealing the big stones that kept the tablecloth from flapping in any chance wind. And then they all took turns in setting the feast forth, and arranging all the goodies. And some one had to make the coffee, with a little coterie to help her. The crotched sticks were always there just as they had left them where they hung the kettle over the stone oven. And old man Kimball set one of the younger drivers to make the fire—and a rousing good one it was—where they roasted their corn and potatoes. And another one brought up the water from the spring that bubbled up clear and cold in the rocky ravine, so when all was ready it was a feast fit for a king, or rather the queen and her royal subjects.
And then Miss Salisbury and “sister” were escorted with all appropriate ceremonies down from their stone thrones,—and one had the head and the other the foot of the feast spread on the grass,—to sit on a stone draped with a shawl, and to be waited on lovingly by the girls, who threw themselves down on the ground, surrounding the snowy cloth. And they sat two or threerows deep; and those in the front row had to pass the things, of course, to the back-row girls.
“Oh, you're spilling jelly-cake crumbs all down my back,” proclaimed Alexia, with a shudder. “Rose Harding,” looking at the girl just back of her, “can't you eat over your own lap, pray tell?”
“Well, give me your seat then,” suggested Rose, with another good bite from the crumbly piece in her hand, “if you don't like what the back-row girls do.”
“No, I'm not going to,” said Alexia, “catch me! but you needn't eat all over my hair. Ugh! there goes another,” and she squirmed so she knocked off the things in her neighbor's as well as her own lap.
“Oh dear me! Keep your feet to yourself, Alexia Rhys,” said the neighbor; “there goes my egg in all the dirt—and I'd just gotten it shelled.”
“All the easier for the bugs,” observed Alexia sweetly; “see, they're already appropriating it. And I guess you'd kick and wriggle if some one put jelly cake down your back,” returning to her grievance,—“slippery, slimy jelly cake,” twisting again at the remembrance.
“Well, you needn't kick the things out of my lap. I didn't put the jelly cake down your back,” retorted the neighbor, beginning to shell her second egg.
Oh dear! was ever anything quite so good in all this world as that feast at the “Salisbury picnic!”
“I didn't suppose those baskets could bring out so much, nor such perfectly delicious things,” sighed Polly Pepper, in an interval of rest before attacking one of Philena's chocolate cakes.
“Polly, Polly Pepper,” called a girl opposite, “give me one of your little lemon tarts. You did bring 'em this year, didn't you?” anxiously.
“Yes, indeed,” answered Polly; “why, where are they?” peering up and down the festal, not “board,” but tablecloth.
“Don't tell me they are gone,” cried the girl, leaning over to look for herself.
“I'm afraid they are,” said Polly; “oh, I'm so sorry, Agatha!”
“You should have spoken before, my child,” said a parlor boarder, who had eaten only three of Mrs. Fisher's tarts, and adjusting her eyeglasses.
“Why, I've only just gotten through eatingbread and butter,” said Agatha. “I can't eat cake until that's done.”
“A foolish waste of time,” observed the parlor boarder; “bread and butter is for every day; cake and custards and flummery for high holidays,” she added with quite an air.
“Hush up, do,” cried Alexia, who had small respect for the parlor boarders and their graces, “and eat what you like, Penelope. I'm going to ransack this table for a tart for you, Agatha.”
She sent keen, bird-like glances all up and down the length of the tablecloth. “Yes, no—yes, it is.” She pounced upon a lemon tart hiding under a spray of sweet fern, and handed it in triumph across. “There you are, Agatha! now don't say I never did anything for you.”
“Oh, how sweet!” cried Agatha, burying her teeth in the flaky tart.
“I should think it was sour,” observed Amy Garrett; “lemons usually are.”
“Don't try to be clever, Amy child,” said Alexia, “it isn't expected at a picnic.”
“It's never expected where you are,” retorted Amy sharply.
“Oh dear, dear! that's pretty good,” cried Alexia, nowise disconcerted, as she loved a jokejust as much at herself as at the expense of any one else, while the others burst into a merry laugh.
“There's one good thing about Alexia Rhys,” the “Salisbury girls” had always said, “she can take any amount of chaff, and not stick her finger in her eye and whimper.”
So now she smiled serenely. “Oh dear, dear! I wish I could eat some more,” she said. “I haven't tasted your orange jelly, Clem, nor as much as looked at your French sandwiches, Silvia. What is the reason one can eat so very little at a picnic, I wonder?” She drew a long breath, and regarded them all with a very injured expression.
“Hear that, girls!” cried Silvia; “isn't that rich, when Alexia has been eating every blessed minute just as fast as she could!”
“I suppose that is what we all have been doing,” observed Alexia placidly.
Miss Salisbury had been a happy observer of all the fun and nonsense going on around her, and renewing her youth when she had dearly loved picnics; but it was not so with Miss Anstice. At the foot of the festal tablecloth, she had been viewing from the corners of her eyes theinroads of various specimens of the insect creation and several other peripatetic creatures that seemed to belong to no particular species but to a new order of beings originated for this very occasion. She had held herself in bravely, although eating little, being much too busy in keeping watch of these intruders, who all seemed bent on running over her food and her person, to hide in all conceivable folds of her white gown. And she was now congratulating herself on the end of the feast, which about this time should be somewhere in sight, when a goggle-eyed bug, at least so it seemed to her distraught vision, pranced with agile steps directly for her lap, to disappear at once. And it got on to her nerves.
“Oh—ow!Take it off.” Miss Anstice let her plate fly, and skipped to her feet. But looking out for the goggle-eyed bug, she thought of little else, and stepped into some more of the jelly cake—slipped, and precipitated herself into the middle of the feast.
“Oh Miss Anstice!” cried the “Salisbury girls,” jumping to their feet.
“Sister!” exclaimed Miss Salisbury, dropping her plate, and letting all her sweet, peaceful reflections fly to the four winds.
“I never did regard picnics as pleasant affairs,” gasped Miss Anstice, as the young hands raised her, “and now they are—quite—quite detestable.” She looked at her gown, alas! no longer immaculate.
“If you could wipe my hands first, young ladies,” sticking out those members, on which were plentiful supplies of marmalade and jelly cake, “I should be much obliged. Never mind the gown yet,” she added with asperity.
“I'll do that,” cried Alexia, flying at her with two or three napkins.
“Alexia, keep your seat.” Miss Anstice turned on her. “It is quite bad enough, without your heedless fingers at work on it.”