"No," said Dorothy, politely; "we haven't that pleasure."
"H'm," said Mr. Hickox, rubbing down his side-whiskers; "she's a nice woman,—a very nice woman, but you must take her easy. Yes, when you meet her, you must certainly take her easy. She doesn't like to be surprised."
"Do you think she will be surprised at us?" asked Lilian, who was well aware that many people thought the Dorrances surprising.
"Yes; I think she will. I certainly think she will. Why, to tell the truth, I'm some surprised at you myself,—and I ain't half so easy surprised as Mrs. Hickox."
As he talked, Mr. Hickox was bundling the luggage into his cart. He picked up trunks and boxes as if they weighed next to nothing, and deposited them neatly and compactly in his queer vehicle.
"Any of the live stock to go?" he inquired.
"No," said Dorothy, "we'll take the animals; unless,—yes, you might take the rabbits; their cage is so heavy."
"Yes, do," said Leicester; "then I'll carry the bird-cage, and you girls can manage the dog and the kitten."
So everything else was put into the dray, even the provisions they had bought at the grocery shop, and the children watched with astonishment, as Mr. Hickox started off, easily pushing the load along a winding path.
"He's the strongest man I ever saw," exclaimed Leicester; "and I'd like to go along with him to see how he does it."
"No, you come with us," said Fairy, dancing around, and clasping her brother's hand; "come on; now we're going up a million steps and then we will come to our own Domain."
Climbing the steps was anything but a work of toil, for continually new delights met their eyes, and they paused often to exclaim and comment.
About half-way up they found grandma and Tessie sitting on one of the small landings, waiting for them.
"Now we'll go the rest of the way together," said Dorothy, "for we must all see our Domain at the same time. Go as slowly as you like, grandmother, we're in no hurry."
Alternately resting and climbing, at last they reached the top, and for the first time had a full view of the Dorrance Domain.
"Oh," said Dorothy in an awe-struck whisper, "that's our home! All of it!"
Leicester, from sheer lack of words to express his feelings, turned double somersaults on the grass, while Fairy danced around in her usual flutterbudget way, singing at the top of her voice.
Lilian, the practical, after one look at the great building, said excitedly, "Grandmother, where are the keys, quick?"
The hotel itself was a white frame building, about two hundred feet long and three stories high. Huge pillars supported verandas that ran all around the house on each story. Broad steps led up to the main entrance, and at one corner was a large tower which rose for several stories above the main part of the house.
Although the whole place had a deserted aspect,—the shutters were all closed, and the lawns uncared for,—yet it did not seem out of repair, or uninhabitable. Indeed, the apparent care with which it had been closed up and made secure was reassuring in itself, and the children eagerly followed Lilian who had gained possession of the front door key.
With little difficulty they succeeded in unfastening the great front doors and threw them wide open to admit the May sunshine.
They found themselves at first in a large hall which ran straight through the house. It was furnished in red, with a velvet carpet and satin brocade sofas, which seemed to the Dorrances quite the most beautiful furnishings they had ever looked upon.
Arched off from this hall was a good-sized room, which Leicester declared to be the office, and as soon as the windows of that could be thrown open, the desks and safe and other office furniture proved he was right. Opening a wicket door, he flew in behind the great desk, and throwing open a large book which was there, he turned it around towards Dorothy with a flourish, and asked her to register.
"Oh," she cried, wild with excitement, "it's just like the Sleeping Beauty's palace. Everything is just as they went off and left it. Who registered last, Leicester?"
"The last is Mr. Henry Sinclair, who arrived here in July, summer before last."
"And nobody's been here since!" exclaimed Lilian; "just think of it! It seems as if we ought to register."
"You may if you like," said Leicester; "it's our register, you know."
But the ink was all dried up, and the pens all rusty, so they left the office and went to make further explorations.
Across the hall from the office was the great parlor. Many hands make light work at opening windows, and in a jiffy the parlor was flooded with sunshine.
Then there were more exclamations of delight, for the parlor appointments were truly palatial. Gorgeous frescoes and wall decorations, mirrors in heavily gilded frames, brocaded hangings, ornate furniture, and a wonderful crystal chandelier made a general effect that contrasted most pleasurably with Mrs. Cooper's unpretentious drawing-room.
Even a piano was there, and flinging it open, Dorothy struck up a brisk two-step, and in a moment the twins were dancing up and down the long room, while Fairy, who had been dancing all the time, simply kept on.
Grandma Dorrance sank onto a sofa and watched her happy grandchildren, no less happy herself.
It was a daring experiment, and she did not know how it would turn out, but she was glad that at last she was able to give the children, for a time at least, that desire of their heart,—a home in the country.
After the grand parlor, and several smaller reception rooms, all equally attractive, they went back across the hall, and through the office to investigate the other side of the house. Here they found the dining-rooms. One immense one, containing a perfect forest of tables and chairs, and two smaller ones.
One of the smaller ones which overlooked the lake, Dorothy declared should be their family dining-room.
"There's more room in the big dining-room," said Lilian, slyly.
"Yes, there is," said Dorothy; "and Idohate to be cramped. Perhaps we had better use the big one, and each one have a whole table all to ourselves."
"No," said Grandma Dorrance, "we'll use the small one every day, and then some time when we invite all Mrs. Cooper's family to visit us, we can use the large one."
"Oh," groaned Lilian, "don't mention Mrs. Cooper's dining-room while we're in this one."
After the dining-rooms came the kitchens, supplied with everything the most exacting housekeeper could desire; but all on the large scale requisite for a summer hotel.
"I should thinkanybodycould cook here," said Dorothy; "and as I propose to do the cooking for the family, I'm glad everything is so complete and convenient."
"You never can cook up all these things," said Fairy, looking with awe at the rows of utensils; "not even if we have seventeen meals a day."
"Willyou look at the dish towels!" exclaimed Lilian, throwing open the door of a cupboard, where hundreds of folded dish towels were arranged in neat piles.
At this climax, Mrs. Dorrance sank down on a wooden settle that stood in the kitchen, and clasping her hands, exclaimed, "It's too much, girls, it's too big; we never can do anything with it."
"Now you mustn't look at it that way, granny, dear," said Dorothy, brightly; "this is our home; and you know, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home. And if a home and all its fixings are too big, instead of too little, why, you'll have to manage it somehow just the same. Of course, I'm overpowered too, at this enormous place, but I won't own up to it! I willneveradmit toanybodythat I think the rooms or the house unusually large. Ilikea big house, and I like spacious rooms! Ihateto be cramped,—as possibly you may have heard me remark before."
"Good for you, Dot!" cried Leicester. "I won't be phased either. We're here, and we're here to stay. We're not going to be scared off by a few square miles of red velvet carpet, and some sixty-foot mirrors!"
"I think the place rather small, myself," said Lilian, who rarely allowed herself to be outdone in jesting; "I confessIhave a little of that cramped feeling yet."
At this they all laughed, and went on with their tour of the house. Merely taking a peep into the numerous pantries, laundries, storerooms and servants' quarters, they concluded to go at once to inspect the bedrooms.
"Don't go up these stairs," said Leicester turning away from the side staircase. "Let's go back to the main hall, and go up the grand staircase, as if we had just arrived, and were being shown to our rooms."
"Oh,isn'tit fun!" cried Fairy, as she hopped along by her brother's side. "I never had such a fun in my whole life! Wouldn't it be awful if we were really guests instead of purporietors?"
"Youwouldn't be a guest," said Leicester, teasingly; "no well-conducted summer hotel would take a flibbertigibbet like you to board!"
"Nobody would take us Dorrances to board anyway, if they could help it," said Fairy, complacently; "we all know how obnoxiorous we are."
"I know," said Grandma Dorrance, sighing; "and if we can only make a little corner of this big place habitable, I shall certainly feel a great relief in not being responsible for you children to any landlady."
"Oh, come now, granny, we're not so bad, are we?" said Leicester, patting the old lady's cheek.
"You're not bad at all. You're the best children in the world. But just so sure as you get shut up in a boarding-house you get possessed of a spirit of mischief, and I never know what you are going to do next. But up here I don'tcarewhat you do next."
By this time they had reached the entrance hall, and assuming the air of a proprietor, Leicester, with an elaborate flourish and a profound bow, said suavely:
"Ah, Mrs. Dorrance, I believe. Would you like to look at our rooms, madam? We have some very fine suites on the second floor that I feel sure will please you. Are these your children, madam?"
"We're her grandchildren," volunteered Fairy, anxious to be in the game.
"Incredible! Such a young and charming lady with grandchildren! Now I should have saidyouwere the grandmother," with another elaborate bow to Fairy.
Laughing at Leicester's nonsense, they all went up-stairs together, and discovered a perfect maze of bedrooms.
Scattering in different directions, the children opened door after door, pulled up blinds, and flung open windows, and screamed to each other to come and see their discoveries. Tessie followed the tribe around, wondering if she were really in fairyland. The unsophisticated Irish girl had never seen a house like this before, and to think it belonged to the people with whom she was to live, suddenly filled her with a great awe of the Dorrance family.
"Do you like it, Tessie?" asked Mrs. Dorrance, seeing the girl's amazed expression.
"Oh, yis, mum! Shure, I niver saw anything so grand, mum. It's a castle, it is."
"That's right, Tessie," said Leicester; "a castle is the same as a domain. And all these millions of bedrooms are part of our Domain. Our very own! Hooray for the Dorrance Domain!"
The wild cheer that accompanied and followed Leicester's hurrah must have been audible on the other side of Lake Ponetcong. At any rate it served as a sort of escape-valve for their overflowing enthusiasm, which otherwise must soon have gotten beyond their control.
"I think," said Mrs. Dorrance, "that it would be wise for you each to select the bedroom you prefer,—for to-night at least. If you choose to change your minds to-morrow, I don't know of any one who will object."
"Oh!" said Lilian, "to think of changing your room in a hotel just as often as you like, and nobody caring a bit! I shall have a different one every night."
"That won't be my plan," said her grandmother, laughing; "I think I shall keep the one I'm in, for mine, and make no change."
As it was a large, pleasant, southwest room, with a delightful view of the lake, it was thought to be just the one for grandma, and they all willingly agreed.
"Do you suppose there are sheets and pillow-slips and things?" asked Dorothy, and a pell-mell rush of four explorers soon brought about the discovery of a wonderful linen room.
Grandma and Tessie were called to look, and all exclaimed at the sight. It was a large room with shelves on all four sides and the shelves were piled with neatly-folded clean linen,—sheets, counterpanes, towels,—everything that was necessary.
"Whoever left this house last," said grandma, "was a wonderful housekeeper. I should like to see her and compliment her personally."
"Shure, it's wonderful, mum!" said Tessie, still a little dazed by the succession of wonders.
"Well then, children," went on grandma, "pick out your rooms, and Tessie can make up your beds for you, and when Mr. Hickox brings the trunks, they can be brought right up here."
"How clever you are, grannymother," cried Dorothy, kissing her. "I said I'd direct the arrangements,—and yet I never once thought of all that."
"Never mind, dearie, we don't expect an old head to grow on young shoulders all at once. And besides, you'll have enough to do down-stairs. Did I hear you say you're going to get supper? And is anybody going to build a fire in the kitchen?"
"I'll build the fire," cried Leicester, "just as soon as I select my room from the hotel clerk."
The boy ran down the hall and in a few moments returned, saying that he had made a selection, and would take the tower-room.
Of course they all flew to see it, and found a large octagon-shaped room with windows on five sides, leaving only enough wall space for the necessary furniture. But it was a beautiful room, "just like being outdoors," Leicester said, and they all applauded his choice.
Just then the door-bell was heard to ring, and this gave the children a new sensation.
"Our own door-bell!" cried Dorothy; "only to think of that! Tessie, please go down to the door!" and Tessie went, with the four Dorrances following close behind her.
It was Mr. Hickox who was at the door. By a winding path he had pushed his cart full of luggage up the hill, and now expressed his willingness to deposit the goods where they belonged.
The big man seemed to think nothing of carrying the trunks, one after another, up to the bedrooms; and meantime the children carried the provisions to the kitchen.
Although Dorothy was nominally housekeeper, and wanted to assume entire charge of all household arrangements, Grandma Dorrance had a long and serious talk with Mr. Hickox regarding ways and means.
It was most satisfactory; for whenever any apparent difficulty arose, the kind-hearted man summarily disposed of it by waving his hand and remarking: "Don't worry. Hickox'll look after things. It'll be all right!"
So convincing was his attitude that Mrs. Dorrance at last felt satisfied that there were no serious obstacles in their path; and like the sensible lady she was, she determined to let Dorothy have full power and manage her new home in any way she saw fit.
Dorothy's nature was, perhaps, a little over-confident. She was not inclined to hesitate at anything; indeed, the more difficult the undertaking, the greater her determination to succeed.
And so, when Mrs. Dorrance informed Mr. Hickox that Miss Dorothy was the housekeeper, and was in authority, Dorothy rose to the occasion and assumed at once a certain little air of dignity and responsibility that sat well upon her.
She, too, was encouraged by Mr. Hickox's continued assertions that it would be all right.
She learned from him that the nearest place where they might buy provisions was Woodville, where a certain Mr. Bill Hodges kept a store. His wares included everything that a country store usually deals in, "and Bill himself," said Mr. Hickox, "is just the cleverest man in these parts."
"How do we get there?" asked Leicester, who had declared his willingness to consider going to market as part of his share of the work.
"Well, there're several ways. Haven't got a horse, have you?" Mr. Hickox said this casually, as if he thought Leicester might have one in his pocket.
"No," said Leicester; "we don't own a horse. Is it too far to walk?"
"No; 'tain't any too much of a sprint for young legs like yours. It's two miles around by the road and over the bridge. But it's only a mile across by the boat."
"But we haven't any boat."
"Haven't any boat! well I should say you had. Why there is half-a-dozen rowboats belongs to this hotel; and a catboat too, and a sneak-box,—my land! you've got everything but a steamboat."
"And Captain Kane said we could use his steamboat," cried Dorothy, gleefully; "so we've really got a whole navy at our disposal!"
"So you have, so you have," agreed Mr. Hickox, rubbing his long hands together, in a curious way he had; "and don't you worry. Whenever you want anything that you can't get with your navy, Hickox'll look after it. It'll be all right!"
"Do you live near here, Mr. Hickox?" asked Lilian.
"Well, yes, miss. Just a piece up the road. And if you want some nice fresh garden truck, now and then,—just now and then;—we haven't got enough to supply you regular."
"We'll be very glad to have it, whenever you can spare it," said Dorothy; "I'll send for it."
"Well, no, Miss Dorothy. I'd some rather you wouldn't send for it. You see Mrs. Hickox she's apt to—to be surprised at anything like that."
"Oh, very well," said Dorothy; "bring it whenever it's convenient. We're always glad of fresh vegetables. And eggs,—do you have eggs?"
"Now and again,—just now and again. But when we have them to spare I'll bring 'em. It'll be all right. Now I must jog along; Mrs. Hickox will be surprised if I don't get home pretty soon."
"One thing more, Mr. Hickox," said Mrs. Dorrance. "Are there ever any burglars or marauders around this neighborhood?"
"Land, no, ma'm! Bless your heart, don't you worry a mite! Such a thing was never heard of in these parts. Burglars! ho, ho, well I guess not! Why I've never locked my front door in my life, and I never knew anybody around here that did."
After Mr. Hickox's departure, Leicester observed thoughtfully, "What a very surprisable woman Mrs. Hickox seems to be."
"Yes," agreed Dorothy; "I'm anxious to see her. I think I'd like to surprise her a few times."
"Well, he's a nice man," said Lilian; "I like him."
"Yes, he is nice," said Leicester; "and isn't that jolly about the boats? I'm going right out to hunt them up."
"Hold on, my First Gold-Stick-In-Waiting," said Dorothy; "I think you promised to make a kitchen fire."
"Sure enough, Major-domo," returned Leicester, gaily; "I'll do that in a jiffy. Where's the kindling-wood?"
"Where's the kindling-wood, indeed," returned Dorothy; "you're to make the fire, and you're also to make the kindling-wood, and the paper and the matches! I'm not employing assistants who don't assist."
"All right, my lady. I'll make your fire, even if I have to split up that big settle for fire-wood."
With a wild whoop, Leicester disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
"Oh, grannymother," cried Dorothy, "isn't it splendid that we can make just as much noise as we want to! Now you sit right here on the veranda, and enjoy the view; and don't you budge until you're called to supper." And with another war-whoop scarcely less noisy than her brother's, Dorothy went dancing through the big rooms, followed by her two sisters.
When she reached the kitchen, she found a fine fire blazing in the range.
Leicester sat on the settle, with his hands in his pockets, and wearing a complacent air of achievement.
"Anything the matter with that fire?" he inquired.
"How did you ever do it in such a minute?" cried his twin, gazing admiringly at her brother.
"Magic," said Leicester.
"Magic in the shape of Tessie," said Dorothy, laughing, as the good-natured Irish girl appeared from the pantry.
"Right you are," said Leicester; "that's Tessie's own fire. And she didn't have to split up the furniture, for she says there's lots of wood and coal in the cellar."
"Well, did you ever!" cried Dorothy; "I wouldn't be a bit surprised to learn that there was a gold mine in the parlor, or a pearl fishery up in the tower."
"I'd rather learn that there is something to eat somewhere," said Leicester; "I'm simply starving. What's the use of three sisters if they can't get a fellow some supper?"
"That's so," agreed Dorothy; "and we all must go right to work. You can't help with this part, Leicester. You skip away now, your turn will come later. Now girls," she went on, as Leicester vanished, not without the usual accompaniment of an ear-splitting yell, "we're going to have an awful lot of fun; and we can make just as much noise and racket as we please; but all the same there's a lot of work to be done, and we're going to do it, and do it properly. It's a great deal easier if we have system and method, and so we'll divide up the work and each of us must do our own part, and do it thoroughly and promptly."
"Hear, hear!" cried Lilian, who adored her older sister, and was more than willing to obey her commands.
"What can I do?" screamed Fairy, who was dancing round and round the kitchen, perching now on the window-seat, now on the table, and now on the back or arm of the old settle.
"We must each have our definite work," went on Dorothy, who was herself sitting on the back of a chair with her feet on the wooden seat. "Tessie will have her share, but she can't do everything. So there's plenty for us to do. Grandma is not to do a thing, that's settled. If four women and a man can't take care of one dear old lady, it's high time they learned how."
As the youngest of the four "women" was just then clambering up the cupboard shelves, and singing lustily at the top of her voice, some people might have thought that the dear old lady in question had an uncertain outlook. But Dorothy was entirely undisturbed by the attitudes of her audience, and continued her discourse.
"I shall do the cooking,—that is, most of it. I'm a born cook, and I love it; besides I want to learn, and so I'm going to try all sorts of dishes, and you children will have to eat them,—good or bad."
"I like to make cake and fancy desserts," said Lilian.
"All right, you can make them. And I'll make croquettes and omelets, and all sorts of lovely things, and Tessie can look after the boiling of the potatoes and vegetables, and plain things like that. You haven't had much experience in cooking, have you, Tessie?"
"No, Miss Dorothy; but I'm glad to learn, and I'll do just whatever you tell me."
"Fairy can set the table, and help with the dusting. We girls will each take care of our own rooms, and Tessie can take care of Leicester's. I'll attend to grandma's room myself."
"Let me help with that," said Lilian.
"Yes, we'll all help; and we'll keep the parlors tidy, and Tessie can wash the dishes and look after the dining-room and kitchen. Leicester can help with the out-of-door work; the grass ought to be mowed and the paths kept in order. But good gracious! none of this work is going to amount to much. If we're spry, we can do it all up in less than no time, and have hours and hours left every day to play, and read, and go out on the lake, and tramp in the woods, and just enjoy ourselves. Oh, isn't it great!" and jumping to the floor with a bang, Dorothy seized the hands of the others, and in a moment all four were dancing around in a ring, while the three Dorrance voices loudly proclaimed that there was no place like home.
Tessie had begun to grow accustomed to the boisterous young people, and as she thought everything they did was nothing short of perfection, she readily adapted herself to her own part.
"What about the laundry-work, Miss Dorothy?" she asked.
"Why, I don't know," said Dorothy. "I hadn't really thought of that. I wonder if we can find a laundress anywhere around. We must ask Mr. Hickox."
"Now, Miss Dorothy, if you'll let me, I'm just sure I can do the washing and ironing. With all these beautiful tubs and things, it'll be no trouble at all, at all."
"Why if you could, Tessie, that would be fine. Let me see, we won't have many white dresses or fancy things, but there'll be lots of sheets and table linen. You know we're a pretty big family."
"Yes, miss; but I'm sure I can do it all. I'm strong, and I'm a good washer."
"Well, we'll try it, anyway," said Dorothy, "and see how you get along. We girls will help a little more with your work on Mondays and Tuesdays, and then I think it will all come out right."
Dorothy was a singular mixture of capability and inconsequence.
Her power of quick decision, and her confidence in her own ability, made her words a little dictatorial; but the gentleness of her nature, and the winning smile which accompanied her orders took from them any touch of unpleasant authority. Dorothy's whole attitude was one of good comradeship, and though much given to turbulent demonstration of her joy of living, she was innately of an equable temperament and had never been known to lose her temper.
Lilian, on the other hand, was more excitable, and more prone to hasty decisions which were afterwards rejected or revised. Lilian could get very angry upon occasion, but she had a fine sense of justice; and if she found herself in the wrong, she was more than ready to confess it and to make amends. The two girls really exercised a good influence over one another, and the bonds of affection between them were very strong. Indeed the four Dorrances were a most loyal quartet; and though they teased each other, and made fun of each other, it was always in an honest good-humored spirit that was quite willing to take as much as it gave.
At six o'clock the family sat down to supper.
Dorothy had a lingering desire to use the great dining-room, but Mrs. Dorrance had persuaded her that it was far more sensible to use the smaller one, and she had pleasantly acquiesced.
Indeed the smaller one was a large apartment, about four times the size of Mrs. Cooper's dining-room. The outlook across the lake was charming, and the room itself prettily decorated and furnished.
Fairy had wanted to use small tables, letting two sit at each table, but again Grandma Dorrance had gently insisted on a family table.
So the small tables had been taken from the room, and a good-sized round dining-table substituted, at which Mrs. Dorrance presided. Leicester sat opposite her, Dorothy on one side, and the two younger girls on the other.
Very attractive the table looked, for the china, glass and plated silverware were all practically new, and of pretty design. Tessie was an experienced and willing waitress; and it is safe to say that the Dorrance family had never before so enjoyed a meal.
Many hands had made light work, and Dorothy's had made light biscuits, and also a delicious omelet. They had strawberry jam and potted cheese, and some sliced boiled ham, all of which they had bought at the grocery shop on the way up.
"It's a sort of pick-up supper," said Dorothy; "but I'm not saying this by way of apology. You will very often have a pick-up supper. Indeed, I think almost always. We're going to have dinner in the middle of the day, because that's the better arrangement in the country."
Just at that moment, nobody seemed to care what the dinner hour might be, so interested were they in the supper under consideration.
"I think pick-ups are lovely," said Fairy, taking a fourth biscuit; "I never tasted anything so good as these biscuits, and I do hope Dorothy'll make them three times a day. They are perfectly deliciorous!"
"You're very flattering," said Dorothy. "But I won't promise to make them three times a day."
"I could eat them six times a day," declared Leicester; "but I don't want Dot to be cooking all the time. What do you think, girls, there are lots of boats of every sort and kind. Shall we go out rowing this evening, or wait till to-morrow?"
"You'll wait till to-morrow," said grandma, quietly.
"All right, grandma," said Leicester; "we'll start to-morrow morning right after breakfast; will you go, too?"
"No, not on your first trip. I may go with you some time later in the season. And I'll tell you now, children, once for all, that I'm going to trust you to go on the lake whenever you choose; with the understanding that you're to be sensible and honorable about it. The lake is very treacherous; and if there is the least doubt about its being safe to venture out, you must ask Mr. Hickox about it, and if he advises you against it, you must not go. Also I trust you to act like reasonable human beings when you are in a boat, and not do foolish or rash things. In a word, I trust you not to get drowned, and somehow I feel sure you won't."
"Good for you, grannymother!" cried Leicester; "you're of the right sort. Why I've known grandmothers who would walk up and down the dock wringing their hands, for fear their geese weren't swans,—no, I guess I mean for fear their chickens weren't ducks. Well, anyhow, it doesn't make any difference; you're the best grandmother in the world, and always will be."
After supper the Dorrances strolled through the hotel, and finally seated themselves in the great parlor.
Fairy plumped herself down in the middle of the floor, and sat cross-legged, with her chin in her hands.
"What's the matter, baby?" asked Leicester; "aren't these satin sofas good enough for you?"
"Yes, but I like to sit in the middle, and then I can look all around. I am just goating over it."
"Goat away; we're all doing the same thing," said Dorothy; "now grandmother, you sit on this sofa; and I'll go 'way down to the other end of the room, and sit on that one, and then we'll holler at each other. It'ssucha relief not to be cooped up in a little bunch."
The twins seated themselves on opposite sides of the room, and then the conversation was carried on in loud tones, that delighted the hearts of these noise-loving young people.
So merry were they that their laughter quite drowned the sound of the door-bell when it rang, and before they knew it, Tessie was ushering a visitor into the parlor.
The great chandeliers had not been lighted, but the thoughtful Tessie had filled and lighted several side lamps, so they were quite able to see their somewhat eccentric-looking guest. She wore a black silk mantilla of an old-fashioned style; and her bonnet which was loaded with dangling black bugles, was not much more modern. She was a small, thin little woman, with bright, snapping black eyes, and a sharp nose and chin.
"I'm Mrs. Hickox," she said, "and I'm surprised that you people should come to live in this great big hotel."
As Leicester said afterwards, if there had been any doubt as to the lady's identity, they would have felt sure, as soon as she declared her surprise.
"We are glad to see you, Mrs. Hickox," said Grandma Dorrance, rising with her gentle grace, and extending her hand in cordial greeting to her visitor. "Won't you be seated?"
Mrs. Hickox sat down carefully on the edge of one of the chairs.
"I'm surprised," she said, "that you should use this best room so common. Why don't you sit in some of the smaller rooms?"
"We like this," said Grandma Dorrance, quietly. "May I present my grandchildren,—this is Dorothy."
The four were duly introduced, and really behaved remarkably well considering they were choking with laughter at Mrs. Hickox's continual surprises.
"Do you propose to live in the whole house?" asked Mrs. Hickox, after the children had seated themselves a little more decorously than usual.
"Yes," said Mrs. Dorrance, "my grandchildren have been cooped up in small city rooms for so long, that they are glad to have plenty of space to roam around in."
"'Tisn't good for children to be left so free. It makes 'em regular hobbledehoys. Children need lots of training. Now that Dorothy,—my husband tells me she's head of the house. How ridiculous!"
"Perhaps itisridiculous, Mrs. Hickox," said Dorothy, dimpling and smiling; "but I'm over sixteen, and that's quite a big girl, you know."
"Oh, you're big enough for your age, but there's no sense of your keeping house in a great big hotel like this."
"There's no sense in our doing anything else, Mrs. Hickox," said Leicester, coming to his sister's rescue. "We own this place, and we can't sell it or rent it, so the only thing to do is to live in it."
Mrs. Hickox shook her head until the jets on her bonnet rattled, and the children wondered if she wouldn't shake some of them off.
"No good will come of it," she said. "This hotel has had six proprietors since it was built, and none of them could make it pay."
"But we're not keeping a hotel, Mrs. Hickox," said Grandma Dorrance, smiling; "we're just living here in a modest, unpretentious way, and I think my grandchildren are going to be happy here."
"Well, that's what Mr. Hickox said; but I wouldn't believe him, and I said I'd just come over to see for myself. It seems he was right, and I must say I am surprised."
Mrs. Hickox was a nervous, fidgety woman, and waved her hands about in a continuous flutter. She was all the time picking at her bonnet-strings, or her dress-trimmings, or the fringe of her mantilla. Indeed once she pulled the feather of her bonnet over in front of her eyes and then tossed it back with a satisfied smile. "I often do that," she said, "to make sure it's there. It blew out one night, and I lost it. I found it again and sewed it in tight, but I get worried about it every once in a while. I'm awful fond of dress, and I hope you brought a lot of new patterns up from the city. I've got a new-fangled skirt pattern, but I don't like it because it has the pocket in the back. The idea! I was surprised at that. I like a pocket right at my finger-ends all the time."
As Mrs. Hickox spoke she thrust her five finger-ends in and out of her pocket so rapidly and so many times, that Dorothy felt quite sure she would wear her precious pocket to rags.
"What do you carry in your pocket?" asked Fairy, fascinated by the performance.
"Many things," said Mrs. Hickox, mysteriously; "but mostly newspaper clippings. I tell you there's lots of good things in newspapers; and we have a paper 'most every week, so of course I can cut out a good many. The only trouble, cutting clippings out of a paper does spoil the paper for covering shelves. The papers on my pantry shelves now have had some clippings cut out of them, but I just set piles of plates over the holes. Well, I must be going. I just came over to be sociable. I'm your nearest neighbor, and of course up here in the country neighbors have to be neighborly, but I'm free to confess I don't favor borrowing nor lending. Woodville is nearer you than it is me, and I expect you'll do your trading there."
"Of course we shall, Mrs. Hickox," said Dorothy, flushing a little; "we are not the sort of people who borrow from our neighbors. But Mr. Hickox told us that you sometimes had vegetables and eggs to sell; if that is so, we'd be glad to buy them."
"When I have them, miss, I'll let you know," said Mrs. Hickox, shaking her bugles more violently than ever. "But you needn't come 'round inquiring for them; when I have them I'll let you know."
"Thank you," said Dorothy, who was only amused, and not at all angry at her visitor's hostile attitude.
But Lilian could not so easily control her indignation. "We can get vegetables and eggs at Woodville," she said. "We don't really need any of yours."
"Oh, well, I guess that'll be the least of your troubles," said Mrs. Hickox, edging towards the door, with a restless, jerky gait. "You're lucky if the tank don't burst, or the windmill get out of order, or anything happen that will be really worth worrying over."
By this time Mrs. Hickox had backed out and edged along until she was on the veranda. "Good-bye," she said, awkwardly; "come to see me, when you feel to do so; but I ain't noways set on having company. I like the little one best, though."
This sudden avowal so startled Fairy, that she fell off the newel-post where she had been daintily balancing herself on one foot. As Leicester caught her in his arms, no harm was done, but Mrs. Hickox ejaculated, with a little more force than usual, "Well, Iamsurprised!"
"That's why I tumbled over," said Fairy, looking intently at Mrs. Hickox, "'causeIwas so s'prised that you said you liked me best. If you want me to, I'll come to see you with great pleasure and delight."
"Come once in a while," said Mrs. Hickox, cautiously; "but I don't want you racing there all the time."
"No, I won't race there all the time," said Fairy, seriously. "I'll just race down about once a day. Where do you live?"
"I live in the yellow house,—the first one down the road. But you needn't come more than once a week."
"All right," said Fairy, cheerfully; "we'll make it Wednesdays then. I love to have things to do on Wednesday, 'cause I used to take my music lesson on that day, and it's so lonesome not to have anything special to do."
While Fairy was talking, Mrs. Hickox had shaken hands all around, and had backed down the steps.
"Good-bye," she said, vigorously waving both hands as she went away.
"Well, of all queer people!" exclaimed Dorothy, as they went back to the parlor. "I'm glad we haven't many neighbors, if they're all like that. Mr. Hickox is funny enough, but she's funnier yet."
"We don't care whether we have neighbors or not, we've got the Dorrance Domain," said Leicester; "and that's enough to make us happy, and keep us so."
"So say we all of us," cried Lilian; "the Dorrance Domain forever!"
As usual, this was merely a signal for a series of jubilant hurrahs, and quiet Grandma Dorrance sat on her sofa, and listened contentedly to her happy, if noisy brood.
Next morning the young Dorrances experienced for the first time the joy of going to market.
Their appointed household tasks were all done first, for Dorothy had insisted on that. Then she and Tessie had conferred as to what was needed, and she had made out a list.
Grandma Dorrance had decreed against a sailboat for the children alone; but they were at liberty to go in a rowboat.
So down the steps the four ran, and found Mr. Hickox waiting for them at the dock.
He had put a boat in the water for them. It was a round-bottomed boat, but wide and roomy; easy to row and provided with two pairs of shining oars.
"Can any of you row?" inquired Mr. Hickox, looking uncertainly at the children; "for I can't go along with you this morning. Mrs. Hickox, she wants me to work in the garden,—she says the weeds are higher 'n a kite."
"We can row," said Leicester; "but not so very well. We haven't had much experience, you know. But we're going to learn."
"I thought we'd each have a boat," said Fairy; "I want to learn to row. I want to be a 'sperinshed boat-lady."
"You can learn to row, baby, but you can't go in a boat all by yourself until youhavelearned."
"But I 'most know how now."
"Well I'll tell you how we'll fix it; two of us will row going over, and the other two can row coming back. To divide up evenly, suppose Dorothy and Lilian row over, and Fairy and I will row home." This was a bit of self-sacrifice on Leicester's part, for he was most eager to handle the oars himself.
Mr. Hickox quite appreciated the boy's attitude, and nodded approvingly at him but he only said: "All right, sonny, you sit in the stern and steer, and I make no doubt these young ladies'll row you over in fine shape."
Fairy was safely settled in the bow, with an admonition to sit still for once in her life; and then Dorothy and Lilian excitedly grasped the oars and splashed away.
It was not very skilful rowing, but it propelled the boat, and by the aid of Leicester's steering, they made a progressive, if somewhat zigzag course.
The morning was perfect. The lake calm and placid, with tiny soft ripples all over it. The green hills sloped down to its shore on all sides; while here and there, at long intervals, a house or a building gleamed white among the trees. The exhilarating air, and the excitement of the occasion roused the Dorrances' spirits far above normal,—which is saying a great deal.
The arms of the rowers grew very tired; partly because they were so unused to vigorous exercise, and partly because the rowing was far more energetic than scientific.
But the girls didn't mind being tired, and pulled away gleefully to an accompaniment of laughter and song.
Leicester would have relieved them, but they had promised grandma they would not move around or change places in the boat until they had become more accustomed to nautical ways.
But it was only a mile, after all, and they finally landed at Dolan's Point, and guided the bow of their boat up on to the beach in a truly shipshape manner. Fairy sprang out with a bound that landed her on the dry sand; Leicester followed, and then helped the exhausted but victorious galley-slaves to alight.
"Isn't it glorious!" cried Dorothy, panting for breath, but aglow with happiness.
"Fine!" agreed Lilian, but she looked a little ruefully at eight blisters on her pink palms.
"That's all right," said Leicester, cheerfully; "you'll get calloused after a while; blisters always have to come first."
"Oh, pooh, I don't mind them a bit," protested Lilian; for the Dorrances were all of a plucky disposition.
On they went, following the directions given them by Mr. Hickox, and making wonderful explorations at every turn.
Dolan's Point seemed to be occupied principally by a large boathouse. This belonged to a club-house, which was farther up the hill, and whose turrets and gables shining in the morning sunlight, looked like those of an old castle.
Their way lay across the point, and then they were to cross a small arm of the lake by means of a bridge.
Dorothy had hoped for a rustic bridge, and Leicester had told her that it would probably be two foot-planks and a hand-rail.
But when they saw the bridge itself, they were really struck speechless with wonder and delight. It was a floating bridge, built of logs. It was perhaps eight feet wide, and was made by logs laid transversely and close together. They were held in place by immense iron chains which went alternately over and under the logs at their ends. Except at the sides of the bridge, the logs were not visible for they were covered with a deep layer of soil on which grew luxuriant green grass. The thick grass had been mowed and cared for until it resembled a soft velvet carpet.
On either side of the bridge was a hand-rail of rope, supported at intervals by wooden uprights. The rope rails and the uprights were both covered with carefully trained vines. Among these were morning-glory vines, and their pink and purple blossoms made an exquisite floral decoration.
Evidently the bridge was in charge of somebody who loved to care for it, and who enjoyed keeping it in order.
"Do you suppose we walk on it?" asked Fairy, with a sort of awe in her voice.
"Yes," said Leicester. "It must be meant for that; but isn't it the most beautiful thing you ever saw!"
It certainly was, and the children stepped on to it gently, and walked slowly as one would walk in a church aisle.
Although suspended at both ends, almost the whole length of the bridge rested on the water, and swayed gently with the rippling of the lake. It was a delicious sensation to walk on the unstable turf, and feel it move slightly under foot.
As they advanced further, it seemed as if they were floating steadily along, and Fairy grasped Leicester's hand with a little tremor. When they reached the middle of the bridge they all sat down on the grass, and discussed the wonderful affair.
"I shall spend most of my time here," said Dorothy; "it seems to be public property, and I like it better than any park I have ever seen."
"It's lovely," agreed Lilian; "I'd like to bring a book and sit here all day and read."
"But it's so funny," said Fairy; "it's a bridge, and it's a park, and it's a garden, and it's a front yard,—and yet all the time it's a bridge."
"Well, let's go on," said Leicester. "I suppose it will keep, and we can walk back over it. And if we don't get our marketing done, we'll be like the old woman who didn't get home in time to make her apple-dumplings."
"If she had found this bridge," declared Dorothy, "she never would have gone home at all, and her story would never have been told."
But they all scrambled up and went on merrily towards the grocery store.
The store itself was a delight, as real country stores always are. Mr. Bill Hodges was a storekeeper of the affable type, and expressed great interest in his new customers.
He regaled them with ginger-snaps and thin slivers of cheese, which he cut off and proffered on the point of a huge shiny-bladed knife. This refreshment was very acceptable, and when he supplemented it with a glass of milk all around, Dorothy was so grateful that she felt as if she ought to buy out his whole stock.
But putting on a most housewifely air, she showed Mr. Hodges her list of needs, and inquired if he could supply them.
"Bless your heart, yes," he replied. "Bill Hodges is the man to purvide you with them things. Shall I send 'em to you?"
"Oh, can you?" said Dorothy. "I didn't know you delivered goods. I'd be glad if you would send the bag of flour and the potatoes, but most of the smaller things we can carry ourselves."
"Well I swan!" exclaimed Mr. Bill Hodges; "you're real bright, you air. How did ye come over? Walk?"
"No, sir," said Leicester. "We came in a rowboat; and then walked across the Point and over the bridge. We think that bridge very wonderful."
"And very beautiful," added Lilian. "Who keeps it so nice?"
"And doesn't it ever fall down in the water?" asked Fairy; "or doesn't the mud wash off, or don't people fall off of it and get drownded? and how do you cut the grass, and how do you water the flowers? It's just like a conservatorory!"
As Mr. Bill Hodges was something of a talker himself, he was surprised to be outdone in his own line by the golden-haired stranger-child, who, apparently without effort, reeled off such a string of questions. But as they referred to a subject dear to his heart he was delighted to answer them.
"That bridge, my young friends, is my joy and delight. Nobody touches that bridge, to take care of it, but Bill Hodges,—that's me. I'm proud of that bridge, I am, and I don't know what I'd do, if I didn't have it to care for. I'm glad you like it; I ain't got nary chick nor child to run across it. So whenever you young folks feel like coming over to look at it, I'll be pleased and proud to have ye; pleased and proud, that's what I'll be; so come early and come often, come one and come all."
"We'll bring our grandmother over to see it," said Dorothy, "just as soon as we can manage to do so."
"Do," said Mr. Hodges, heartily. "Bring her along, bring her along. Glad to welcome her, I'm sure. Now I'll go 'long and help you tote your bundles to your boat. I don't have crowds of customers this time of day, and I can just as well go as not."
The kind-hearted old man filled a basket with their purchases, and trudged along beside the children.
"Ain't it purty!" he exclaimed as they crossed the bridge. "Oh,ain'tit purty?"
"It is," said Dorothy. "I don't wonder you love it."
"And there ain't another like it in the whole world," went on the prideful Hodges. "Of course there are floating bridges, but no-wheres is there one as purty as this."
The children willingly agreed to this statement, and praised the bridge quite to the content of its owner.
"Fish much?" Mr. Hodges inquired casually of Leicester.
"Well, we haven't yet. You see we only arrived yesterday, and we're not fairly settled yet."
"Find plenty of fishin' tackle over to my place. Come along when you're ready, and Bill Hodges'll fit ye out. Pretty big proposition,—you kids shakin' around in that great empty hotel."
"Yes, but we like it," said Leicester; "it just suits us, and we're going to have a fine time all summer."
"Hope ye will, hope ye will. There ain't been nobody livin' there now for two summers and I'm right down glad to have somebody into it."
"Why do you suppose they couldn't make it pay as a hotel?" asked Dorothy.
"Well, it was most always the proprietor's fault. Yes, it was the proprietor's fault. Nice people would come up there to board, and then Harding,—he was the last fellow that tried to run it,—he wouldn't treat 'em nice. He'd scrimp 'em, and purty nigh starve 'em. Ye can't keep boarders that way. And so of course the boarders kept leavin', and so the hotel got a bad name, and so nobody wants to try a hand at it again."
When they reached the boat, Mr. Hodges stowed their basket away for them, helped the children in and pushed the boat off.
With gay good-byes and promises to come soon again, the children rowed away.
Leicester and Fairy took the oars this time, and Fairy's comical splashing about made fun for them all. She soon declared she had rowed enough for one day, but Leicester proved himself well able to get the boat across the lake without assistance.
On Wednesday morning Fairy declared her intention of visiting Mrs. Hickox. She carried her kitten with her, and danced gaily along the road, singing as she went.
She found the house without any trouble, as it was the only one in sight; and opening the front gate, she walked up the flower-bordered path to the house, still singing loudly. She wore the kitten around her neck as a sort of boa, and this seemed to be a satisfactory arrangement to all concerned, for the kitten purred contentedly.
Fairy rapped several times at the front door, but there was no answer; so she walked leisurely around to the side of the house. There she saw another outside door, which seemed to open into a small room or ell attached to the house. She knocked at this door, and it was opened by Mrs. Hickox herself, but such a different looking Mrs. Hickox from the one who had called on them, that Fairy scarcely recognized her. Her hair was done up in crimping pins, and she wore a short black skirt and a loose white sacque.
"Goodness me!" she exclaimed, "have you come traipsing over here a'ready? What's the matter with your hotel, that you can't stay in it?"
"There's nothing a matter with the hotel, Mrs. Hickox," said Fairy, amiably; "but I said I'd come to see you on Wednesday, and so I came. I've brought my kitten."
"You've brought your kitten! for the land sake what did you do that for? Don't you know this is my milk-room? The idea of a kitten in a milk-room! Well Iamsurprised!"
"Oh, I think a milk-room is just the place for a kitten. Couldn't you give her a little drink of milk, she's awfully fond of it."
"Why I s'pose I could give her a little. Such a mite of a cat wouldn't want much; but I do hate cats; they're such pestering creatures."
"But this one doesn't pester, Mrs. Hickox," said Fairy, earnestly. "She's such a dear good little kitty. Her name is Mike."
"What a ridiculous name! I'm surprised that you should call her that."
"It isn't much of a name," said Fairy, apologetically. "But you see it's only temporaneous. I couldn't think of just the right name, so I just call her Mike, because that's short for my kitten."
"Mike! short for my kitten! Well so it is, but I never thought of it before."
"All our other animals have regular names," volunteered Fairy. "Our dog,—his name's Dare; our two rabbits are Gog and Magog,—Leicester named them; or at least he named one, and let Lilian name the other. They're twins you know,—the rabbits, I mean. Then we have a canary bird and he's named Bobab. That's a nice name, isn't it?"
"Nice name? It's heathenish! What a queer lot of children you are, anyway."
"Yes, aren't we?" said Fairy, agreeably. "We Dorrances are all queer. I guess we inheritated it from my grandpa's people, because my grandma isn't a bit queer."
"Oh, isn't she? I think she's queer to let you children come up here, and do what you are doing."
"Oh, that isn't queer. You only think my grandma queer because you don't know her. Why, I used to think you quite queer before I knew you as well as I do now."
"You consider yourself well acquainted now, do you?"
"Oh, yes; when anybody visits anybody sociaberly, like I do you, they know each other quite well. But I think it's queer why you call this room a milk-room." Fairy looked around at the shelves and tables which were filled with jars and pans and baskets, and receptacles of all sorts. The floor was of brick, and the room was pleasantly cool, though the weather had begun to be rather warm.
"I call it a milk-room because that's its name," said Mrs. Hickox, shortly.
"Butwhyis that its name?" persisted Fairy. "You keep everything else here as well as milk. Why don't you call it the butter-room or the pie-room?"
"Oh, I don't know. Don't pester me so with your questions. Here's a cookie; now I'll take you in the house, and show you the best room, and then you must go home. I don't like to have little girls around very much. Come along, but don't eat your cookie in the house; you'll make crumbs. Put it in your pocket until you get out of doors again."
"I won't pester," said Fairy; "you just go on with your work, whatever you were doing, and I'll play around by myself."
"By yourself! I guess you won't! Do you suppose I want a great girl like you rampoosing around my house! I've seen you fly around! You'd upset everything."
"I expect I would, Mrs. Hickox," said Fairy, laughing. "I just certainly can't sit still; it gives me the widgets."
"I guess I won't take you into the best room after all, then. Like as not you'd knock the doves over."
"Oh, do let me go! What are the doves? I'll promise not to knock them over, and I'll hold Mike tight so she can't get away. Oh, come, oh, come; show me the best room!"
As Mrs. Hickox's parlor was the pride of her life, and as she rarely had opportunity to exhibit it to anybody, she was glad of even a child to show it to. So bidding Fairy be very careful not to touch a thing, she led her through the hall and opened the door of the sacred best room.
It was dark inside, and it smelled a little musty. Mrs. Hickox opened one of the window-blinds for the space of about two inches, but even while she was doing so, Fairy had flown around the room, and flung open all of the other window sashes and blinds. Then before Mrs. Hickox could find words to express her wrath at this desecration, Fairy had begun a running fire of conversation which left her hostess no chance to utter a word.
"Oh, are these the doves? How perfectly lovely!" she cried, pausing on tip-toe in front of a table on which was a strange-shaped urn of white alabaster, filled with gaily-colored artificial flowers. On opposite sides of the rim of the urn were two stuffed white doves, facing each other across the flowers. "Where did you get them? Are they alive? Are they stuffed? What are their eyes made of? Were they your grandmother's? Oh, one of them had his wing broken. You sewed it on again, didn't you? But the stitches show. My sister has some glue, white glue, that would fix that bird up just fine. When I come next Wednesday, I'll bring that glue with me and we'll rip off that wing and fix it up all right."
"Well, Iamsurprised!" said Mrs. Hickox. "What do children like you know about such things? But still, if you think it would do well, I'd like to try it. I've got a newspaper clipping about that white glue, but I never saw any. Has your grandma unpacked her dress patterns yet?"
"I don't know," said Fairy. "I don't think she has any. We never make our own dresses."
"For the land sake! Why I thought they looked home-made. Well Iamsurprised! But hurry up and see the room, for I want to get them shutters shut again."
Fairy didn't see anything in the room that interested her greatly. The red-flowered carpet, the stiff black horsehair chairs, and the marble-topped centre-table moved her neither to admiration nor mirth.
"I've seen it all, thank you," she said. "Do you want it shut up again? What do you keep it so shut up for? Do you like to have it all musty and damp? I should think some of your newspaper clippings would tell you to throw open your windows and let in the fresh air and sunshine."
"Why they do say that," said Mrs. Hickox; "but of course I don't take it to mean the best room."
"We do," said Fairy, dancing around from window to window as she shut the blinds. "We have that great big parlor over at the Dorrance Domain flung wide open most of the time; and the little parlors, too, and the dining-room and all our bedrooms."
"Well, Iamsurprised!" said Mrs. Hickox. "It must fade your carpets all out, doesn't it?"
"I don't know; we haven't been there three days yet, so of course they haven't faded very much. I guess I must go home now. Leicester went out fishing this morning, and Dorothy and Lilian went to market, and I'm just crazy to see what they've accumerated."
"Well, run along," said Mrs. Hickox; "and you can come again next Wednesday, but don't bring your kitten the next time. When you do come again, I wish you'd bring some of that white glue you were talking about; I would certainly like to try it. Here, wait a minute, I'll give you some gum-drops; then you'll remember the glue, won't you?"
"I'd remember it anyway, Mrs. Hickox; but I do love candy, per-tickle-uly gum-drops."
"Well, here's three; don't eat them all to-day."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hickox," said Fairy, taking the three precious bits of candy. Then saying good-bye, she danced away with her kitten tucked under her arm.
Shortly after Fairy's departure, Mr. Hickox came dawdling along towards his own home.
"I do declare, Hickory Hickox, if you haven't been and wasted the whole morning, fooling with those Dorrance young ones! Now what have you been doing?"
"Oh, nothin' in particular. Just helpin' 'em get settled a bit. Lookin' after their boats and things, and buildin' a little house for them rabbits of theirs. That Leicester, he's a smart chap; handy with tools, and quick to catch on to anything."
"Well Iamsurprised! Wasting a whole morning building a rabbit-coop!"
"For the land's sake, Susan, it ain't wasted time. They pay me for all I do for 'em, and they pay me well, too."
"They're extravagant people. They have no business to hire you to work around so much, when you've got plenty to do at home."
"Oh, don't worry; Hickox'll look after things. It'll be all right."
Though he spoke carelessly, Mr. Hickox was in reality much disturbed by his wife's sharp speeches. Long years of married life with her had not yet enabled his gentle, peace-loving nature to remain unruffled under her stormy outbursts of temper. He stood, unconsciously and nervously fumbling with a wisp of straw he had plucked from a near-by broom.
"You're shiftless and idle, Hickory, and you don't know what's good for yourself. Now do stop fiddling with that straw. First thing you know, you'll be poking it in your ear. I cut out a newspaper clipping only yesterday, about a man who poked a straw in his ear, and it killed him. That's what you'll come to some day."
"No, I won't."
"Yes, you will! But just you remember this safe rule: never put anything in your ear, but your elbow. But you're so forgetful. I am surprised that a mancanbe as forgetful as you are! Throw that straw away,—it's safer."
"Yes, it's safer, Susan," and Mr. Hickox threw his straw away. "And when you sit down to dinner, I hope you will tie yourself into your chair. You may not fall off, but it's safer."
Mrs. Hickox gave her husband a scornful look, which was all the reply she usually vouchsafed to his occasional shafts of mild sarcasm.
"That big dog is a ridiculous extravagance," she went on. "He must eat as much as a man. I am surprised that people as poor as they are should keep such a raft of animals."
"Why the Dorrances aren't poor."
"Yes they are; and if they aren't they soon will be. Throwin' open that great big house for them few people, is enough to ruin a millionaire. That little girl says they use nearly every room in it."
"So they do," said Mr. Hickox, chuckling; "when I went over there this morning, they was every one in a different room; happy as clams, and noisy as a brass band."
"They're a terrible lot! I never saw anything like them."
"That Dorothy is a smart one," declared Mr. Hickox, with an air of great conviction. "Some day she'll set Lake Ponetcong on fire!"
"I wouldn't be at all surprised," said Mrs. Hickox, which was, all things considered, a remarkable statement.