CHAPTER XV
Tante’sbirthday was a beautiful, bright blue day; what the towns-folk called a “realHarbor day.” You will notice as you go around the world, that therealday of any place you visit is always the best kind of day one ever sees there. Perhaps the same thing is true of people.
There were two rules at the Camp about birthdays. One was that there should never be any “boughten” presents. The second rule was that the hero or heroine of the occasion should do exactly as he pleased all day, and that everyone should fall into his or her plans.
There was a curious collection of gifts at Tante’s place when she came down to breakfast. By her plate was a bowl of luscious strawberries—the last of the season, which the Twins had found by very careful hunting overacres of meadow the day before. They knew how much their mother loved the wild strawberries, and how lonesome she was going to be without them for a whole year. “Well, this will make the year a little shorter, won’t it, Mummy?” said Freddie. “Only from July till June.”
“Some day we are going to take Mummy all up and down the world, wherever the strawberries grow,” said Eddie. “Hugh says we could begin in the winter in the far south and chase them right up to the Arctic circle, where they might still be juicy in September! Wouldn’t that be fine?”
“But they would never be so good anywhere as these are, I’m sure,” said Tante.
Norma had picked a beautiful bunch of flowers for Tante—little wild orchises and ferns and cotton grass, which she had arranged in an original jardinière made of a tin can covered with birch bark. Cicely had strung a beautiful necklace of hemlock cones with the red beads of the bunchberry set between. Beverly had finished at last the basket which Sal Seguin had helped her begin. Indeed,Beverly had seen the old Indian woman twice since that first visit. Once she had met her by chance on the shore near the bathing beach, and had brought down the half-finished basket for advice. Once again old Sal had looked her up in Camp, with a present of dyed red grass. So Tante’s basket had a beautiful border to finish it.
Nancy had written her mother a birthday poem, and Hugh had whittled her a weather-vane—a round robin painted red, to go on the flag pole in front of the Camp. Anne gave her the prettiest pebble she had found—lovely mottled green with a white circle round it, which made it a “lucky stone.” Victor had painted her a little sketch.
As for Dick, that ingenious boy had made a wind-harp by stringing the frame of a wooden box with twisted silk thread. And when Tante put it under the half-opened window in a strong breeze, it made the most odd and beautiful sounds, like fairy music written in no human key.
“Nobody ever had such interesting presents!”declared Tante, when she had looked at them all.
“Mine you cannot see till ze evening,” said Gilda with a sly nod. Tante knew quite well that Gilda had been making candy all the previous afternoon; and Gilda knew that she knew. But it was a secret all the same.
“Now, what do you want to do, Mother?” asked Hugh, following the second camp rule. “We are your slaves to-day. Choose what you would like best”
“I would like best to do exactly what I always do!” laughed Tante. “A little work, and a little play, a little reading, a little walk, and a little rest. Nothing could be better than that, for me. Every day is like a birthday, you see, at Round Robin. Only we shall also have a party this evening.”
Nelly Sackett came over early from the Cove; and then Tante had two more presents. For Nelly brought a great bowl of lobster salad from Uncle Eph and Aunt Polly. And she herself had made a wonderful rope of twine, in twenty intricate knots and twists, for Tante to use as a watch-chain.
After early supper Nelly retired with Anne to the boat house on the beach, where they could help one another to dress without being disturbed, and, as Anne said, where they could fish up more trimmings when they were needed.
With much giggling they put on their bathing suits and adjusted their seaweed skirts which they had sewed firmly, each with a long trailing tail. Anne had fashioned two pretty loose caps of shells, which looked quaint on their heads, one covering curly red hair, the other perched on sea-weedy locks. On their bare arms the mermaids wore strings of coral beads and shells, and each carried in her hand a great conch shell which Uncle Eph had brought from some queer corner of the world. They made a very alluring pair of mermaids, just of a height, as they stole up the path together when the signal horn blew for the party to begin.
When they peeped through the bushes they saw a strange company already gathered on the grass in front of Round Robin. In the middle of a little group about the flag-polestood a stately figure in red, white and blue. On her head was a red liberty cap, and in her hand she carried a horn of plenty. Behind her stood an old and very black man, with grinning white teeth and bushy hair. He was dressed in shabby old clothes and wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, and leaned on a stick.
“Tante must be Columbia,” whispered Nelly Sackett, “isn’t she lovely!” “But what is Hugh?”
“I think he’s Uncle Remus,” guessed Anne. “This is his ‘dark secret.’ Hugh is always talking about ‘Brer Rabbit, he lay low!’ Let’s wait a moment and see the others come.”
Two little Indians were frisking around the feet of Columbia, chasing a clown dog in a wonderful ruffled collar. It looked as if Doughboy’s costume would not last through the party, for it was already badly tattered. The Twins with their bows and arrows wanted to shoot everybody. But a Wild West character, in a sombrero and leggings, with a red handkerchief knotted about his neck and a lasso in his hand, was trying to restrain them.
“Wow!” yelled Reddy as he dexterously whirled his lasso over Indian Freddie’s shoulders, bringing that youngster to the ground, much to his astonishment. “Don’t you be too rough with these strangers! It will never do to scalp a Fairy!”
For out of the woods was gliding a beautiful creature in green drapery fringed with oak leaves, and with an oak garland on her long golden hair. A green veil fell over her shoulders and bare arms, which she waved like wings. The clown dog fawned at her feet in an adoring fashion.
“I am the Spirit of the Woods,” said a gentle voice. No one but the English girl had a voice like that. It did indeed sound like the wind in the pine trees on a spring night. “The Indians ought to love me, for I furnish them with bark for their canoes and wood for their bows and tepee poles. And I sing the little papooses to sleep.”
“Isn’t Cicely sweet?” said Nelly admiringly, and Anne agreed. She began to regret the Columbine costume she had given up, and glanced down at her make-shift rig with somemisgiving. “If I had worn the other I should easily be the finest,” she thought. But Nelly Sackett had no such regret. “We will creep up, like the tide, last of all,” she whispered, squeezing Anne’s cold fingers.
Now from opposite directions two figures emerged out of the woods. One was dressed in a simple brown dress, with a white apron, kerchief and cap, and carried a book in her hand, trying to look demure. The other was a pretty Italian peasant, with the brightest colors in her head-dress and embroidered apron. Long scarlet ear-rings—made of partridge berries—dangled on her shoulders. Norma had no difficulty in looking her part.
“Well met!” said the little brown maid gravely. Nancy and Norma were the best actors of the party, and had prepared their speeches beforehand. “Thus you, the newest emigrant, meet the earliest, on Columbia’s ground.” Nancy dropped a curtsey to Norma. “I represent my ancestor Ruth who came over in theMayflower.”
a fairy creaturea fairy creature—a gnome—a gypsy queen
a fairy creature—a gnome—a gypsy queen
“You are the New England Conscience; but I am the Artistic Temperament,” smiledNorma. “You weren’t very cordial to me at first. But you are improving.”
“Even so, I might teach you something still, of patience and courage and thrift. But I am trying to get rid of my prejudices, anyway. I do most awfully want to get what is best for my Country. I have always tried to do that, have I not, Columbia?”
“Yes; but you are apt to set too much store by book-knowledge; and you’re apt to think that anyone who did not come in theMayflowerlike yourself is the ‘scum of the earth!’” retorted Norma.
“The Pilgrims made things ready for the later emigrants,” said Nancy. “But you do more complaining than we did.”
“Come now!” said Columbia, “I must have no quarreling under my Flag. The Stars and Stripes give peace and shelter to all kinds of children. Miss Pilgrim, you must welcome all the later pilgrims who come, as you did, with a good heart and a high purpose. Some of them need your gifts. But some of them bring gifts that you needed.”
“That is so,” said Nancy magnanimously.“I’ll try to remember. But who are these noisy creatures? I think you are entertaining a good many disorderly persons, Mother Columbia. You must look out!”
“They will have to obey my rules or they cannot stay at my party!” said Columbia. “But gaiety is not always disorder. It is sulkiness that is unsafest.”
“‘Gone with the raggle-taggle gypsies O!’” Voices singing, the click of bones and the twang of strings announced the arrival of two dancing, beribboned ones. Everybody but Doughboy applauded the two gypsies who now capered into the circle. Doughboy strongly disapproved of the Romany. Victor Lanfranc and Beverly had conspired very successfully. The tall Victor had managed to turn his old khaki uniform into gay apparel with the aid of ribbons and patches. Over his shoulder he wore Nancy’s red cape. He had borrowed Norma’s plaid sash and he had tied up his legs with crossed scarlet braid, instead of puttees. He looked very picturesque with his black mustache and a broad hat slouched over a red bathing cap.
Beverly had the corn-popper slung over her shoulder to represent a guitar, rubber bands stretched across it, twanging under her fingers. In a red table-cloth skirt, with a bath-towel apron and a scarlet sweater, and crowned with a waste-basket hat wreathed in daisies, she was a dashing Gipsy queen. There was a lull after their dance. “Let’s go now,” whispered Anne. “They are about all there now, I think.”
Making a swimming motion with their arms the two mermaids glided into the moonlight, and were greeted with various cries from the group. “Hurrah!” “Look at the Mermaids!” “Bravissima!” “Bow wow!”
Anne and Nelly swam around the group with their long tails trailing in a very effective fashion, to Doughboy’s great delight. Finally they dived down into the grass and lay shaking with laughter. For Doughboy had taken this as a special invitation to play. And their unrehearsed dive was the only way to stop his attachment to them.
“Welcome, Sea Ladies!” Columbia hailed them. “Old Ocean and his powers are thebest friends of Columbia. She could not do without you.”
“They are dressed alike, only one is red and one is green,” said Freddie. “Are they lobsters, Mother?”
“They look just alike; only one is curly and one is weedy,” said Eddie. “That is so!” one and another of the group agreed in surprise. “I didn’t notice it before. Or is it just the moonlight?”
“They might be sisters,” said Nancy wonderingly. “Nelly and Anne!”
“Do we look alike?” whispered Nelly Sackett rather wistfully to Anne.
“I don’t know,” said Anne, trying not to look annoyed. “Costumes do change people a lot.” They sat down in the grass side by side, with their tails gracefully curled under them out of Doughboy’s reach.
“Everybody present?” asked Columbia. “No, ma’am,” said Uncle Remus. “One chile missing. Hello! Here it comes!”
A funny little noise like a bumble bee was heard, one could not say from which direction. It grew louder and louder, and presentlyinto the circle hopped the strangest little round figure, with brown legs, brown body, brown arms. It seemed a weird old gnome with a long grey beard, a hooked red nose and a pointed cap. He was blowing on some instrument that might be a pipe.
“It’s a Brownie!” shouted Freddie. Eddie cowered closer to his mother’s skirts. “Is he real?” he asked. “Where did he come from?”
Indeed the Brownie was so real that no one would have recognized him. He went dancing around the circle, teasing the nearly frantic Doughboy, then disappeared into the woods. “Oh he’s gone! I wanted to see him some more!” cried Freddie. On the word the Brownie reappeared, dancing right up to Freddie and tossing a cone into his lap. Another cone hit Eddie on the nose. “It’s Gilda!” he cried. “I know Gilda now!” and off the two little Indians raced in a wild pursuit of the Brownie. Presently they brought him back a laughing prisoner.
“We’ll burn him at the stake!” yelled the Indians.
“Cannot burn ze kobold!” cried Gilda witha squeaky voice that was still funnier with her accent.
“How did you do it, Gilda? Where did you get the costume?” cried the girls surrounding her in admiration. “I never saw anything so perfect as that nose!”
“Ze Pilgrimette did it!” lisped the Brownie, hopping on one leg and pointing elfishly at Nancy. “She found ze long beard growing on ze trees. She made my nose, so crooked and pink, wiz ze purple veins, out of a strange—what you call?—a leaf.”
“It is a pitcher-plant leaf,” explained Nancy. “I found one day that it would make the most perfect nose. And I was just crazy to wear it myself. But of course I had to represent the Pilgrims. And Gilda makes such a nice little round Brownie, doesn’t she?”
“Columbia couldn’t get along without her fairy-folk too,” said Tante, smiling at the queer group. “I am glad they came with the other emigrants. Now let’s have a Virginia reel in the moonlight.”
So, like the Owl and the PussyCat—
“Hand in hand on the edge of the strand,They danced by the light of the moon,”
“Hand in hand on the edge of the strand,They danced by the light of the moon,”
“Hand in hand on the edge of the strand,
They danced by the light of the moon,”
Tante and Uncle Remus leading off. It was a very pretty sight, with the bright moon making strange long shadows under the trees. But if any of the Harbor folk had happened to stray in this direction, without being warned, they would certainly have thought the people of Camp Round Robin had lost their minds!
After the Virginia reel, Tante led the band in a grand march about the place, and so back to Round Robin for refreshments. Every party in Tante’s camp always ended with refreshments. When they entered the bungalow they were surprised to find that it was not empty. By the fire sat a figure, tending it and brushing up the ashes. He was indistinct at first. But gradually they made out it was a man in a tall hat and swallow-tailed coat.
“Why, it’s Uncle Sam!” cried several voices. “Good for Uncle Sam!”
“It’s Uncle Eph!” announced Nelly Sackett in the same breath. The tall figure rose gravely and bowed to Columbia. CaptainSackett’s face was indeed like the pictures of Uncle Sam, with his little chin-whisker, lank grey hair and long, humorous face.
“Good evenin’, friends,” said he. “I come to bring the lady her birthday cake. Aunt Polly made it as a s’prise.”
“Oh, thank you. Uncle Sam!” Tante took the beautiful frosted cake, with her initials “R. B.” marked in the first red raspberries. “How nice of you to come over!”
“I jest had to see those costumes!” chuckled Uncle Sam. “You certainly did look fine out there in the moonlight!”
While they ate salad and cake and Gilda’s delicious Belgian fudge, and while they drank Tante’s health in steaming cocoa, Uncle Eph told them about his costume. “This old hat has been up in my attic for a hundred years, I reckon. Belonged to my grandfather. He was a deacon and a soldier too, and this coat sorter combined the idea of both, I guess.” He was watching Nelly and Anne as they passed in front of him together. “My! don’t they look alike!” he muttered. “I neverwould have believed it! Coming home with me, Nelly?” he asked as he rose to go.
“No, I’m going to stay with Anne,” said Nelly happily. And he left her there, looking almost as happy himself.