"Let's get Mabel and all the others," said Nan to Mildred. "We ought to take at least six gingham aprons and three nightgowns over to the camp."
Aunt Sarah had turned a big long attic room into a sewing school where Nan and Mildred had full charge. Flossie was to look after the spools of thread, keeping them from tangling up, and the girls agreed to let Freddie cut paper patterns.
This was not a play sewing school but a real one, for Aunt Sarah and Mrs. Bobbsey were to do the operating or machine sewing, while the girls were to sew on tapes, buttons, overhand seams, and do all that.
Mildred and Nan invited Mabel, Nettie, Marie Brenn (she was visiting the Herolds), Bessie, and Anna Thomas, a big girl who lived over Lakeside way.
"Be sure to bring your thimbles and needles," Nan told them. "And come at two o'clock this afternoon."
Every girl came—even Nettie, who was always so busy at home.
Mrs. Bobbsey sat at the machine ready to do stitching while Aunt Sarah was busy "cutting out" on a long table in front of the low window.
"Now, young ladies," said Mrs. Bobbsey, "we have ready some blue gingham aprons. You see how they are cut out; two seams, one at each side, then they are to be closed down the back. There will be a pair of strings on each apron, and you may begin by pressing down a narrow hem on these strings. We will not need to baste them, just press them down with the finger this way."
Mrs. Bobbsey then took up a pair of the sashes and turned in the edges. Immediately the girls followed her instructions, and very soon all of the strings were ready for the machine.
Nan handed them to her mother, and then Aunt Sarah gave out the work.
"Now these are the sleeves," said Aunt Sarah, "and they must each have little gathers brought in at the elbow here between these notches. Next you place the sleeve together notch to notch, and they can be stitched without basting."
"Isn't it lively to work this way?" said Mildred. "It isn't a bit of trouble, and see how quickly we get done."
"Many hands make light work," replied Mrs. Bobbsey. "I guess we will get all the aprons finished this afternoon."
Piece by piece the various parts of the garments were given out, until there remained nothing more to do than to put on buttons and work buttonholes, and overhand the arm holes.
"I'll cut the buttonholes," said Mrs. Bobbsey, "then Nan and Mildred may work the buttonholes by sticking a pin through each hole. The other girls may then sew the buttons on."
It was wonderful how quickly those little pearl buttons went down the backs of the aprons.
"I believe I could make an apron all alone now," said Nan, "if it was cut out."
"So could I," declared Mildred. "It isn't hard at all."
"Well, here's my patterns," spoke up Freddie, who with Flossie had been busy over in the corner cutting "ladies" out of a fashion paper.
"No, they're paper dolls," said Flossie, who was standing them all up in a row, "and we are going to give them to the fresh-air children to play with on rainy days."
It was only half-past four when Nan rang the bell to dismiss the sewing school.
"We have had such a lovely time," said Mabel, "we would like to have sewing to do every week."
"Well, you are welcome to come," said Aunt Sarah. "We will make night dresses for the poor little ones next week, then after that you might all bring your own work, mending, fancywork or tidies, whatever you have to do."
"And we might each pay five cents to sew for the fresh-air children," suggested Mildred.
"Yes, all charity sewing classes have a fund," Mrs. Bobbsey remarked. "That would be a good idea."
"Now let us fold up the aprons," said Nan. "Don't they look pretty?"
And indeed the half-dozen blue-and-white ginghams did look very nice, for they were carefully made and all smooth and even.
"When can we iron them out?" asked Flossie, anxious to deliver the gifts to the needy little ones.
"To-morrow afternoon," replied her mother. "The boys are going to pick vegetables in the morning, and we will drive over in the afternoon."
Uncle Daniel had given the boys permission to pick all the butter-beans and string-beans that were ripe, besides three dozen ears of the choicest corn, called "Country Gentleman."
"Children can only eat very tender corn," said Uncle Daniel, "and as that is sweet and milky they will have no trouble digesting it."
Harry looked over every ear of the green corn by pulling the husks down and any that seemed a bit overripe he discarded.
"We will have to take the long wagon," said Bert, as they began to count up the baskets. There were two of beans, three of corn, one of lettuce, two of sweet apples, besides five bunches of Freddie's radishes.
"Be sure to bring Sandy back with you," called Freddie, who did not go to the camp this time. "Tell him I'll let him be my twin brother."
Nan and Aunt Sarah went with the boys, but how disappointed they were to find a strange matron in charge of the camp, and Sandy's eyes red from crying after Mrs. Manily.
"Oh, I knowed you would come to take me to Freddie," cried he, "'cause my other mamma is gone too, and I'm all alone."
"Mrs. Manily was called away by sickness in her family," explained the new matron, "and I cannot do anything with this little boy."
"He was so fond of Mrs. Manily," said Aunt Sarah, "and besides he remembers how lonely he was when his own mother went away. Maybe we could bring him over to our house for a few days."
"Yes, Mrs. Manily spoke of that," said the matron, "and she had received permission from the Society to let Edward pay a visit to Mrs. Daniel Bobbsey. See, here is the card."
"Oh, that will be lovely!" cried Nan, hugging Sandy as tight as her arms could squeeze.
"Freddie told us to be sure to bring you back with us."
"I am so glad to get these things," the matron said to Aunt Sarah, as she took the aprons, "for everybody has been upset with Mrs. Manily having to leave so suddenly. The aprons are lovely. Did the little girls make them?"
Aunt Sarah told her about the sewing school, and then she said she was going to have a little account printed about it in the year's report of good work done for the Aid Society.
"And Mrs. Manily has written an account of your circus," the matron told Harry and Bert, for she had heard about the boys and their successful charity work.
Some of the girls who knew Nan came up now and told her how Nellie, the little cash-girl, had been taken sick and had had to be removed to the hospital tent over in the other mountain.
This was sad news to Nan, for she loved the little cash-girl, and hoped to see her and perhaps have her pay a visit to Aunt Sarah's.
"Is she very sick?" Aunt Sarah asked the matron.
"Yes indeed," the other replied. "But the doctor will soon cure her, I think."
"The child is too young to work so hard," Aunt Sarah declared. "It is no wonder her health breaks down at the slightest cause, when she has no strength laid away to fight sickness."
By this time a big girl had washed and dressed Sandy, and now what a pretty boy he was! He wore a blue-and-white-striped linen suit and had a jaunty little white cap just like Freddie's.
He was so anxious to go that he jumped in the wagon before the others were ready to start.
"Get app, Bill!" he called, grabbing at the reins, and off the old horse started with no one in the wagon but Sandy!
Sandy had given the reins such a jerk that Bill started to run, and the more the little boy tried to stop him the harder he went!
"Don't slap him with the reins!" called Harry, who was now running down the hill as hard as he could after the wagon. "Pull on the reins!" he called again.
But Sandy was so excited he kept slapping the straps up and down on poor Bill, which to the horse, of course, meant to go faster.
"He'll drive in the brook," called Bert in alarm also rushing after the runaway. "Whoa, Bill! whoa, Bill!" called everybody, the children from the camp having now joined in following the wagon.
The brook was directly in front of Sandy.
"Quick, Harry!" yelled Bert. "You'll get him in a minute."
It was no easy matter, however, to overtake Sandy, for the horse had been on a run from the start. But Sandy kept his seat well, and even seemed to think it good fun now to have everybody running after him and no one able to catch him.
"Oh, I'm so afraid he'll go in the pond!" Nan told Aunt Sarah almost in tears.
"Bill would sit down first," declared Aunt Sarah, who knew her horse to be an intelligent animal.
"Oh! oh! oh!" screamed everybody, for the horse had crossed from the road into the little field that lay next the water.
"Whoa, Bill!" shouted Aunt Sarah at the top of her voice, and instantly the horse stood still.
The next minute both Bert and Harry were in the wagon beside Sandy.
"Can't I drive?" asked the little fellow innocently, while Harry was backing out of the swamp.
"You certainly made Bill go," Harry admitted, all out of breath from running.
"And you gave us a good run too," added Bert, who was red in the face from his violent exercise.
"Bill knew ma meant it when she said whoa!" Harry remarked to Bert. "I tell you, he stopped just in time, for a few feet further would have sunk horse, wagon, and all in the swamp."
Of course it was all an accident, for Sandy had no idea of starting the horse off, so no one blamed him when they got back to the road.
"We'll all get in this time," laughed Aunt Sarah to the matron. "And I'll send the boys over Sunday to let you know how Sandy is."
"Oh, he will be all right with Freddie!" Bert said, patting the little stranger on the shoulders. "We will take good care of him."
It was a pleasant ride back to the Bobbsey farm, and all enjoyed it—especially Sandy, who had gotten the idea he was a first-class driver and knew all about horses, old Bill, in particular.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Freddie, when the wagon turned in the drive. "I knowed you would come, Sandy!" and the next minute the two little boys were hand in hand running up to the barn to see Frisky, Snoop, the chickens, ducks, pigeons, and everything at once.
Sandy was a little city boy and knew nothing about real live country life, so that everything seemed quite wonderful to him, especially the chickens and ducks. He was rather afraid of anything as big as Frisky.
Snoop and Fluffy were put through their circus tricks for the stranger's benefit, and then Freddie let Sandy turn on his trapeze up under the apple tree and showed him all the different kinds of turns Bert and Harry had taught the younger twin how to perform on the swing.
"How long can you stay?" Freddie asked his little friend, while they were swinging.
"I don't know," Sandy replied vaguely.
"Maybe you could go to the seashore with us," Freddie ventured. "We are only going to stay in the country this month."
"Maybe I could go," lisped Sandy, "'cause nobody ain't got charge of me now. Mrs. Manily has gone away, you know, and I don't b'lieve in the other lady, do you?"
Freddie did not quite understand this but he said "no" just to agree with Sandy.
"And you know the big girl, Nellie, who always curled my hair without pulling it,—she's gone away too, so maybe I'm your brother now," went on the little orphan.
"Course you are!" spoke up Freddie manfully, throwing his arms around the other, "You're my twin brother too, 'cause that's the realest kind. We are all twins, you know—Nan and Bert, and Flossie and me and you!"
By this time the other Bobbseys had come out to welcome Sandy. They thought it best to let Freddie entertain him at first, so that he would not be strange, but now Uncle Daniel just took the little fellow up in his arms and into his heart, for all good men love boys, especially when they are such real little men as Sandy and Freddie happened to be.
"He's my twin brother, Uncle Daniel," Freddie insisted. "Don't you think he's just like me curls and all?"
"He is certainly a fine little chap!" the uncle replied, meaning every word of it, "and he is quite some like you too. Now let us feed the chickens. See how they are around us expecting something to eat?"
The fowls were almost ready to eat the pearl buttons off Sandy's coat, so eager were they for their meal, and it was great fun for the two little boys to toss the corn to them.
"Granny will eat from your hand," exclaimed Uncle Daniel, "You see, she is just like granite-gray stone, but we call her Granny for short."
The Plymouth Rock hen came up to Sandy, and much to his delight ate the corn out of his little white hand.
"Oh, she's a pretty chicken!" he said, stroking Granny as he would a kitten. "I dust love chitens," he added, sitting right down on the sandy ground to let Granny come up on his lap. There was so much to see in the poultry yard that Sandy, Freddie, and Uncle Daniel lingered there until Martha appeared at the back door and rang the big dinner bell in a way that meant, "Hurry up! something will get cold if you don't."
And the something proved to be chicken pot-pie with dumplings that everybody loves. And after that there came apple pudding with hard sauce, just full of sugar.
"Is it a party?" Sandy whispered to Freddie, for he was not accustomed to more than bread and milk at his evening meal.
"Yes, I guess so," ventured Freddie; "it's because you came," and then Dinah brought in little play cups of chocolate with jumbles on the side, and Mrs. Bobbsey said that would be better than the pudding for Freddie and Sandy.
"I guess I'll just live here," solemnly said the little stranger, as if his decision in such a matter should not be questioned.
"I guess you better!" Freddie agreed, "'cause it's nicer than over there, isn't it?"
"Lots," replied Sandy, "only maybe Mrs. Manily will cry for me," and he looked sad as his big blue eyes turned around and blinked to keep back some tears. "I dust love Mrs. Manily, Freddie; don't you?" he asked wistfully.
Then Harry and Bert jumped up to start the phonograph, and that was like a band wagon to the little fellows, who liked to hear the popular tunes called off by the funny man in the big bright horn.
"Sometimes I'm afraid in the bed tent over there," said Sandy to Freddie. "'Cause there ain't nothing to keep the dark out but a piece of veil in the door."
"Mosquito netting," corrected Freddie. "I would be afraid to sleep outdoors that way too. 'Cause maybe there's snakes."
"There sure is," declared the other little fellow, cuddling up closer to Freddie. "'Cause one of the boys, Tommy his name is, killed two the other day."
"Well, there ain't no snakes around here," declared Freddie, "an' this bed was put in this room, right next to mama's, for me, so you needn't be scared when Aunt Sarah comes and turns out the lights."
Both little boys were very sleepy, and in spite of having so many things to tell each other the sand-man came around and interrupted them, actually making their eyes fall down like porch screens when someone touches the string.
Mrs. Bobbsey came up and looked in at the door.
Two little sunny heads so close together!
"Why should that little darling be left alone over in the dark tent!" she thought. "See how happy he is with our own dear son Freddie."
Then she tucked them a little bit, half closed the door, and turned out the hall light.
Everybody must have been dreaming for hours, it seemed so at any rate, when suddenly all were awake again.
What was it?
What woke up the household with such a start?
"There it is again!" screamed Flossie. "Oh, mamma, mamma, come in my room quick!"
Sandy grabbed hold of Freddie.
"We're all right," whispered the brave little Freddie. "It's only the girls that's hollering."
Then they both put their curls under the bedquilts.
"Someone's playing the piano," Bert said to Harry; and, sure enough, a nocturnal solo was coming up in queer chunks from the parlor.
"It's a crazy burglar, and he never saw a piano before," Flossie said.
The hall clock just struck midnight. That seemed to make everybody more frightened.
Uncle Daniel was hurrying down the stairs now.
"There it is again," whispered Bert, as another group of wild chords came from the piano.
"It must be cats!" exclaimed Uncle Daniel. "Harry, come down here and help light up, and we'll solve this mystery."
Without a moment's hesitation Bert and Harry were down the stairs and had the hall light burning as quickly as a good match could be struck.
But there was no more music and no cats about.
"Where is Snoop?" asked Uncle Daniel.
The boys opened the hall door into the cellarway, and found there Snoop on his cushion and Fluffy on hers.
"It wasn't the cats," they declared.
"What could it be?"
Uncle Daniel even lighted the piano lamp, which gave a strong light, but there didn't seem to be any disturbance about.
"It certainly was the piano," he said, much puzzled.
"And sounded like a cat serenade," ventured Harry.
"Well, she isn't around here," laughed Uncle Daniel, "and we never heard of a ghost in Meadow Brook before."
All this time the people upstairs waited anxiously. Flossie held Nan so tightly about the neck that the elder sister could hardly breathe. Freddie and Sandy were still under the bedclothes, while Mrs. Bobbsey and Aunt Sarah listened in the hall.
"Dat sure is a ghost," whispered Dinah to Martha in the hall above. "Ghosts always lub music," and her funny big eyes rolled around in that queer way colored people have of expressing themselves.
"Ghosts nothin'," replied Martha indignantly. "I dusted every key of the piano to-day, and I guess I could smell a ghost about as quick as anybody."
"Well, I don't see that we can do any good by sitting around here," remarked Uncle Dan to the boys, after the lapse of some minutes. "We may as well put out the lights and get into bed again."
"But I cannot see what it could be!" Mrs. Bobbsey insisted, as they all prepared to retire again.
"Neither can we!" agreed Uncle Daniel. "Maybe our piano has one of those self-playing tricks, and somebody wound it up by accident."
But no sooner were the lights out and the house quiet than the piano started again.
"Hush! keep quiet!" whispered Uncle Daniel. "I'll get it this time, whatever it is!"
With matches in one hand and a candle in the other he started downstairs in the dark without making a sound, while the piano kept on playing in "chunks" as Harry said, same as it did before.
Once in the parlor Uncle Daniel struck a match and put it to the candle, and then the music ceased.
"There he is!" he called, and Flossie thought she surely would die. Slam! went the music-book at something, and Sandy almost choked with fear.
Bang! went something else, that brought Bert and Harry downstairs to help catch the burglar.
"There he is in the corner!" called Uncle Daniel to the boys, and then began such a slam banging time that the people upstairs were in terror that the burglar would kill Harry and Bert and Uncle Daniel.
"We've got him' We've got him!" declared Harry, while Bert lighted the lamp.
"Is he dead?" screamed Aunt Sarah from the stairs.
"As a door-nail!" answered Harry.
"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, hardly able to speak.
"A big gray rat," replied Uncle Daniel, and everybody had a good laugh.
"I thought it might be that," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"So did I," declared Nan. "But I wasn't sure."
"I thought it was a big black burglar," Flossie said, her voice still shaking from the fright.
"I thought it was a policeman," faltered Sandy. "'Cause they always bang things like that."
"And I thought, sure's yo' life, it was a real ghost," laughed Dinah. "'Cause de clock jest struck fer de ghost hour. Ha! ha! dat was suah a musicanious rat."
"He must have come in from the fields where John has been plowing. Like a cat in a strange garret, he didn't know what to do in a parlor," said Uncle Daniel.
Harry took the candle and looked carefully over the keys.
"Why, there's something like seeds on the keys!" he said.
"Oh, I have it!" exclaimed Bert. "Nan left her hat on the piano last night, and it has those funny straw flowers on it. See, the rat got some of them off and they dropped on the keys."
"And the other time he came for the cake," said Aunt Sarah.
"That's it," declared Uncle Daniel, "and each time we scared him off he came back again to finish his meal. But I guess he is through now," and so saying he took the dead rodent and raising the side window tossed him out.
It was some time before everybody got quieted down again, but finally the rat scare was over and the Bobbseys turned to dreams of the happy summer-time they were enjoying.
When Uncle Dan came up from the postoffice the next morning he brought a note from the fresh-air camp.
"Sandy has to go back!" Nan whispered to Bert. "His own father in the city has sent for him, but mamma says not to say anything to Sandy or Freddie—they might worry. Aunt Sarah will drive over and bring Sandy, then they can fix it. I'm so sorry he has to go away."
"So am I," answered Nan's twin. "I don't see why they can't let the little fellow alone when he is happy with us."
"But it's his own father, you know, and something about a rich aunt. Maybe she is going to adopt Sandy."
"We ought to adopt him; he's all right with us," Bert grumbled. "What did his rich aunt let him cry his eyes out for if she cared anything for him?"
"Maybe she didn't know about him then," Nan considered. "I'm sure everybody would have to love Sandy."
At that Sandy ran along the path with Freddie. He looked like a live buttercup, so fresh and bright, his sunny sandy curls blowing in the soft breeze. Mrs. Bobbsey had just called the children to her.
"We are going over to see Mrs. Manily today, Sandy," she said. "Won't you be awfully glad to see your own dear Mamma Manily again?"
"Yep," he faltered, getting a better hold on Freddie's hand, "but I want to come back here," he finished.
Poor darling! So many changes of home in his life had made him fear another.
"Oh, I am sure you will come to see us again," Mrs. Bobbsey declared. "Maybe you can come to Lakeport when we go home in the fall."
"No, I'm comin' back here," he insisted, "to see Freddie, and auntie, and uncle, and all of them."
"Well, we must get ready now," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "John has gone to bring the wagon."
Freddie insisted upon going to the camp with Sandy, "to make sure he would come down again," he said.
It was only the happiness of seeing Mamma Manily once more that kept Sandy from crying when they told him he was to go on a great big fast train to see his own papa.
"You see," Mrs. Manily explained to Mrs. Bobbsey, "a wealthy aunt of Edward's expects to adopt him, so we will have to give him up, I am afraid."
"I hope you can keep track of him," answered Mrs. Bobbsey, "for we are all so attached to him. I think we would have applied to the Aid Society to let him share our home if the other claim had not come first and taken him from us."
Then Freddie kissed Sandy good-bye. It was not the kind of a caress that girls give, but the two little fellows said good-bye, kissed each other very quickly, then looked down at the ground in a brave effort not to cry.
Mrs. Bobbsey gave Sandy a real mother's love kiss, and he said:
"Oh, I'm comin' beck—to-morrow. I won't stay in the city. I'll just run away and come back."
So Sandy was gone to another home, and we hope he will grow to be as fine a boy as he has been a loving child.
"How lonely it seems," said Nan that afternoon. "Sandy was so jolly."
Freddie followed John all over the place, and could not find anything worth doing. Even Dinah sniffed a little when she fed the kittens and didn't have "dat little buttercup around to tease dem."
"Well," said Uncle Daniel next day, "we are going to have a very poor crop of apples this year, so I think we had better have some cider made from the early fruit. Harry and Bert, you can help John if you like, and take a load of apples to the cider mill to-day to be ground."
The boys willingly agreed to help John, for they liked that sort of work, especially Bert, to whom it was new.
"We'll take the red astrachans and sheepnoses to-day," John said. "Those trees over there are loaded, you see. Then there are the orange apples in the next row; they make good cider."
The early apples were very plentiful, and it took scarcely any time to make up a load and start off for the cider mill.
"Old Bennett who runs the mill is a queer chap," Harry told Bert going over; "he's a soldier, and he'll be sure to quiz you on history."
"I like old soldiers," Bert declared; "if they do talk a lot, they've got a lot to talk about."
John said that was true, and he agreed that old Ben Bennett was an interesting talker.
"Here we are," said Harry, as they pulled up before a kind of barn. Old Ben sat outside on his wooden bench.
"Hello, Ben," they called out together, "we're bringing you work early this year."
"So much the better," said the old soldier; "There's nothing like work to keep a fellow young."
"Well, you see," went on John, "we can't count on any late apples this year, so, as we must have cider, we thought that we had better make hay while the sun shines."
"How much have you got there?" asked Ben, looking over the load.
"About a barrel, I guess," answered John "Could you run them through for us this morning?"
"Certainly, certainly!" replied the others. "Just haul them on, and we'll set to work as quick as we did that morning at Harper's Ferry. Who is this lad?" he asked, indicating Bert.
"My cousin from the city," said Harry, "Bert's his name."
"Glad to see you, Bert, glad to see you!" and the old soldier shook hands warmly. "When they call you out, son, just tell them you knew Ben Bennett of the Sixth Massachusetts. And they'll give you a good gun," and he clapped Bert on the back as if he actually saw a war coming down the hill back of the cider mill.
It did not take long to unload the apples and get them inside.
"We'll feed them in the hopper," said John, "if you just get the sacks out, Ben."
"All right, all right, my lad; you can fire the first volley if you've a mind to," and Ben opened up the big cask that held the apples to be chopped. When a few bushels had been filled in by the boys John began to grind. He turned the big stick round and round, and this in turn set the wheel in motion that held the knives that chopped the apples.
"Where does the cider come from?" asked Bert, much interested.
"We haven't come to that yet," Harry replied; "they have to go through this hopper first."
"Fine juicy apples," remarked Ben. "Don't know but it's just as well to make cider now when you have a crop like this."
"Father thought so," Harry added, putting in the last scoop of sheepnoses. "If it turns to vinegar we can use it for pickles this fall."
The next part of the process seemed very queer to Bert; the pulp or chopped apples were put in sacks like meal-bags, folded over so as to hold in the pulp. A number of the folded sacks were then placed in another machine "like a big layer cake," Bert said, and by turning a screw a great press was brought down upon the soft apples.
"Now the boys can turn," John suggested, and at this both Bert and Harry grabbed hold of the long handle that turned the press and started on a run around the machine.
"Oh, there she comes!" cried Bert, as the juice began to ooze out in the tub. "That's cider, all right! I smell it."
"Fine and sweet too," declared Ben, seeing to it that the tub was well under the spout.
"But I don't want you young fellows to do all my work."
"Oh, this is fun," spoke up Bert, as the color mounted to his cheeks from the exercise. A strong stream was pouring into the tub now, and the wholesome odor of good sweet cider filled the room.
"I think I'll try to get a horse this fall when my next pension comes due," said old Ben, "I'm a little stiff to run around with that handle like you young lads, and sometimes I'm full of rheumatism too."
"Father said he would sell our Bill very cheap if he wasn't put at hard work," Harry said.
"We have had him so long we don't want to see him put to a plow or anything heavy, but I should think this would be quite easy for him."
"Just the thing for a worn-out war-horse like myself," answered Ben, much interested. "Tell your father not to think of selling Bill till I get a chance to see him. I won't have my pension money for two months yet, but I might make a deposit if any more work comes in."
"Oh, that would be all right," spoke up John. "Mr. Bobbsey would not be afraid to trust you."
"There now!" exclaimed Ben; "I guess you've got all the juice out. John, you can fill it in your keg, I suppose, since you have been so good as to do all the rest. Will you try it, boys?"
"Yes, we would like to, Ben," Harry replied.
"It's a little warm to make cider in July," and he wiped his face to cool off some.
Ben went to his homemade cupboard and brought out a tin cup.
"There's a cup," he said, "that I drank out of at Harper's Ferry. I keep it in everyday use, so as not to lose sight of it."
Bert took the old tin cup and regarded it reverently.
"Think of us drinking out of that cup," reflected Bert. "Why, it's a war relic!"
"How's the cider?" asked the old soldier.
"Couldn't be better," said Harry. "I guess the cup helps the flavor."
This pleased old Ben, for the light of glory that comes to all veterans, whether private or general, shone in his eyes.
"Well, a soldier has two lives," he declared. "The one under fire and the other here," tapping his head and meaning that the memories of battles made the other life.
The cider was ready now, and the Bobbseys prepared to leave.
"I'll tell father about Bill," said Harry. "I'm sure he will save him for you."
"All right, sonny—thank you, thank you! Good-bye, lads; come again, and maybe some day I'll give you the war cup!" called the soldier.
"That would be a relic!" exclaimed Harry. "And I guess father will give him Bill for nothing, for we always do what we can for old soldiers."
"I never saw cider made before," remarked Bert, "and I think it's fun. I had a good time to-day."
"Glad you did," said John, "for vacation is slipping now and you want to enjoy it while it lasts."
That evening at dinner the new cider was sampled, and everybody pronounced it very fine.
The next day everybody was out early.
"The men are going to clean the well," Harry told the others, "and it's lots of fun to see all the stuff they bring up."
"Can we go?" Freddie asked.
"Nan will have to take charge of you and Flossie," said Mrs. Bobbsey, "for wells are very dangerous, you know."
This was arranged, and the little ones promised to do exactly as Nan told them.
The well to be cleaned was the big one at the corner of the road and the lane. From the well a number of families got their supply of water, and it being on the road many passersby also enjoyed from it a good cold drink.
"There they come," called Bert, as two men dressed like divers came up the road.
They wore complete rubber suits, hip-boots, rubber coats, and rubber caps. Then they had some queer-looking machines, a windlass, a force pump, grappling irons, and other tools.
The boys gathered around the men—all interested, of course, in the work.
"Now keep back," ordered Nan to the little ones. "You can see just as well from this big stone, and you will not be in any danger here."
So Freddie and Flossie mounted the rock while the large boys got in closer to the well.
First the men removed the well shelter—the wooden house that covered the well. Then they put over the big hole a platform open in the center. Over this they set up the windlass, and then one of the men got in a big bucket.
"Oh, he'll get drownded!" cried Freddie.
"No, he won't," said Flossie. "He's a diver like's in my picture book."
"Is he, Nan?" asked the other little one.
"Yes, he is one kind of a diver," the sister explained, "only he doesn't have to wear that funny hat with air pipes in it like ocean divers wear."
"But he's away down in the water now," persisted Freddie. "Maybe he's dead."
"See, there he is up again," said Nan, as the man in the bucket stepped out on the platform over the well.
"He just went down to see how deep the water was," Bert called over. "Now they are going to pump it out."
The queer-looking pump, with great long pipes was now sunk into the well, and soon a strong stream of water was flowing from the spout.
"Oh, let's sail boats!" exclaimed Freddie, and then all the bits of clean sticks and boards around were turned into boats by Flossie and Freddie. As the water had a good clear sweep down the hill the boats went along splendidly, and the little folks had a very fine time of it indeed.
"Don't fall in," called Nan. "Freddie, look out for that deep hole in the gutter, where the tree fell down in the big flood."
But for once Freddie managed to save himself, while Flossie took no risk at all, but walked past that part of the "river" without guiding her "steamboat."
Presently the water in the "river" became weaker and weaker, until only the smallest stream made its way along.
"We can't sail boats in mud," declared Freddie with some impatience. "Let's go back and see what they're doing at the well."
Now the big pump had been removed and the man was going down in the bucket again.
"We lost lots of things in there," remarked Tom Mason. "I bet they'll bring up some queer stuff."
It took a few minutes for the other man to send the lanterns down after his companion and then remove the top platform so as to give all the air and light possible to the bottom of the well.
"Now the man in the well can see stars in the sky," said Harry to the other boys.
"But there are no stars in the sky," Bert contradicted, looking up at the clear blue sky of the fine summer day.
"Oh! yes there are," laughed the man at the well, "lots of them too, but you can only see them in the dark, and it's good and dark down in that deep well."
This seemed very strange, but of course it was true; and the well cleaner told them if they didn't believe it, just to look up a chimney some day, and they would see the same strange thing.
At a signal from the man in the well the other raised the first bucket of stuff and dumped it on the ground.
"Hurrah! Our football!" exclaimed Harry, yanking out from the muddy things the big black rubber ball lost the year before.
"And our baseball," called Tom Mason, as another ball was extracted from the pile.
"Peter Burns' dinner pail," laughed Harry, rescuing that article from the heap.
"And somebody's old shoe!" put in Bert, but he didn't bother pulling that out of the mud.
"Oh, there's Nellie Prentice's rubber doll!" exclaimed Harry. "August and Ned were playing ball with it and let it fly in the well."
Harry wiped the mud off the doll and brought it over to Nan.
"I'm sure Nellie will be glad to get this back," said Nan, "for it's a good doll, and she probably never had one since she lost it."
The doll was not injured by its long imprisonment in the well and when washed up was as good as ever. Nan took charge of it, and promised to give it to Nellie just as soon as she could go over to see her.
Another bucket of stuff had been brought up by that time, and the first thing pulled out was a big long pipe, the kind Germans generally use.
"That's old Hans Bruen's," declared Tom "I remember the night he dropped it."
"Foolish Hans—to try to drink with a pipe like that in his mouth!" laughed the well cleaner.
As the pipe had a wooden bowl and a hard porcelain stem it was not broken, so Tom took care of it, knowing how glad Hans would be to get his old friend "Johnnie Smoker" back again.
Besides all kinds of tin cups, pails, and saucepans, the well was found to contain a good number of boys' caps and some girls' too, that had slipped off in attempts made to get a good cool drink out of the bucket.
Finally the man gave a signal that he was ready to come up, and soon the windlass was adjusted again and the man in very muddy boots came to the top.
"Look at this!" he said to the boys' holding a beautiful gold watch. "Ever hear of anyone losing a watch in the well?"
No one had heard of such a loss, and as there was no name anywhere on the watch that might lead to its identification, the well cleaner put it away in his vest pocket under the rubber coat.
"And what do you think of this?" the man continued, and drew from his pocket a beautiful string of pearl beads set in gold.
"My beads! My lost beads!" screamed Nan. "Oh, how glad I am that you found them!"
She took the beads and looked at them carefully. They were a bit dirty, but otherwise as good as ever.
"I thought I should never see these again," said Nan. "I must tell mamma of this!" And she started for the house with flying feet. Mrs. Bobbsey was glad indeed to learn that the strings of pearls had been found, and everybody declared that Nan was certainly lucky.
"I am going to fasten them on good and tight after this," said Nan, and she did.
Down by the well the man was not yet through handing over the things he had found.
"And there's a wedding ring!" he said next, while he turned out in his hand a thin gold band.
"Oh, Mrs. Burns lost that!" chorused a number of the boys. "She felt dreadful over it too. She'll be tickled to get that back all right."
"Well, here," said the man, turning to Harry. "I guess you're the biggest boy; I'll let you take that back to Mrs. Burns with my best wishes," and he handed Harry the long-lost wedding ring.
It was only a short distance to Mrs. Burns' house, and Harry lost no time in getting there.
"She was just delighted," Harry told the man, upon returning to the well. "She says Peter will send you over something for finding it."
"No need," replied the other; "they're welcome to their own."
The last part of the well-cleaning was the actual scrubbing of the big stone in the bottom.
This stone had a hole in the middle through which the water sprang up, and when the flag had been scrubbed the well was clean indeed.
"Now you people will have good water," declared the men, as they gathered all their tools, having first put the top on the well and tried a bucketful of water before starting off.
"And are there really stars in the bottom of the well?" questioned Freddie.
"Not exactly," said the man, "but there are lots of other things in the bottoms of wells. You must get your daddy to show you the sky through a fireplace, and you will then know how the stars look in daylight," he finished, saying good-bye to all and starting off for the big deep well-pump over in the picnic grove, that had not been cleaned since it had been dug there three years before.