Patty's Motor Car. Wells Carolyn
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between the two reigns of William IV. and Victoria, there was a delay of some hours in the night before she really received the crown, and it was then placed in the ‘Ark.’ The weight of the crown is about three pounds, and they say, if drawn out into gold wire, it would stretch a mile.”
“It would depend on the thickness of the wire,” commented Patty, sagely.
“So it would. I don’t like the answer, anyway. But I can’t think of a better one. Let’s try some easy ones.”
“Take this mathematical one, then. ‘Divide nine into two equal parts that, added together, will make ten.’”
For some time Philip worked over this. He tried arabic figures, printed words, and Roman numerals. At last, he exclaimed, “Ah, now we have it!”
“Have you really done it?” cried Patty.
“Yes. Look. I write the Roman nine, IX, you know. Then I fold the paper crosswise, right through the middle. Now, what do you read on this side?”
“IV,” said Patty; “that’s four.”
“Yes. Now I turn the folded paper over, and what do you read?”
“VI; that’s six.”
“Yes, and six and four are ten. Though, as you know, we divided our nine into exactly equal parts by that crossways fold through the middle.”
“That’s a good one,” said Patty, with a little sigh; “but I don’t see how you guessed it.”
“But I see that you’re not to guess any more to-night,” said Mr. Fairfield, coming into the library, and looking at the absorbed puzzlers. “I’m going to take you both to the dining-room, where Mrs. Fairfield will give you a very small bit of very light supper, and then, Mr. Van Reypen, I shall send my daughter to her much-needed and well-earned rest.”
“But I’m not a bit sleepy, father dear,” protested Patty.
“No matter, my child; if you go into this ridiculous game, you must promise me not to overdo it. I will not allow you to work late at night on these problems.”
“All right, Daddykins, I promise. Wow! but I’m hungry! Come on, Mr. Van Reypen, let’s see what Nan will give us to support our famishing frames.”
To the dining-room they went, and Nan’s gay little supper soon brushed the cobwebs out of Patty’s brain. But she was well satisfied with her first evening of real work on her “Puzzle Contest.”
CHAPTER III
A LECTURE
“Patricia,” said Mr. Fairfield, one morning at the breakfast-table.
Patty gave a great jump, clasped her hands to her breast dramatically, and exclaimed:
“Oh, my gracious goodness! What do you call me that for?”
“Because,” went on her father, “I’m going to lecture you, and I’m in a very serious mood.”
“Proceed, Mr. Frederick Fairfield, Esquire;” and Patty assumed an expression of rapt attention and excessive meekness.
“Well, to put it in a few words, I won’t have that young Van Reypen hanging around here so much!”
“Oh! is that all? Well, you’re barking up the wrong tree! You should advise him of that fact, not me.”
“Incidentally, as I go along, consider yourself reproved for that awful bit of slang. But now I’m concerned with this other subject. It won’t be necessary for me to speak to the young man, for I’m telling you that you must discourage his attentions somewhat. He comes too often.”
“I think so, too,” agreed Patty, calmly. “But it isn’t me – I, he comes to see. It’s Nan.”
“Oh, Patty, how silly!” exclaimed Nan, laughing and blushing a little.
“Yes, it is, daddy. Nan encourages him something scan’lous! I don’t wonder you kick!”
“Object, Patty, not kick.”
“Yes, sir; object is just what I mean.” Patty’s demure air made her father laugh, but he returned to his theme.
“As you know, child, I like to have you amused and happy, and I like to have your young friends come to see you. But this chap has already been here three evenings this week, and it’s only Thursday.”
“That leaves him just three more to come, doesn’t it?” said Patty, counting on her fingers.
“Indeed, it does not! If he keeps this up, he’ll be forbidden the house altogether.”
“Oh, what a pity! And he such a nice young man, with rosy cheeks and curly hair! Father, you’re cruel to your only child!”
“Now, Patty, behave yourself. You’re too young to have a man calling on you so often, and I really object to it.”
“‘I will be good, dear mother,
I heard a sweet child say,’”
hummed Patty, “and I’ll tell you frankly, my stern parent, that, if you’ll only let the Van Reypen villain stay by me until I get these puzzles done, I don’t care if I never see him again after that.”
“Oh, Patty,” cried Nan, “how ungrateful!”
“Ungrateful, perhaps, to that bold, bad young man, but obedient to my dear, kind, old father.”
When Patty was in this amiably foolish mood, she was incorrigible, so Mr. Fairfield said:
“All right, my lady. Let him come a few times to work out those pestilential puzzles, and then I shall hold you to your promise, to cut his acquaintance.”
“Is he really as bad as all that, father?” asked Patty, in awestruck tones.
“He isn’t bad at all. He’s a most estimable and exemplary young man. But I won’t have anybody calling on you three nights in one week, at your age. It’s out of the question! Kenneth doesn’t.”
“But Ken is so busy.”
“No, it’s because he has some idea of the proprieties.”
“And hasn’t Mr. Van Reypen any idea of the proprieties?” Patty’s eyes opened wide at this awful suggestion.
“Yes, he has;” and Mr. Fairfield smiled in spite of himself. “Or, he would have, if you’d let him! It’s all your fault, Patty; you drag him here, to mull over those idiotic questions!”
“I drag him here! Oh, father, what a rudeness! Well, I simply must have his help on the rest of those puzzles. How would it be if you engaged him as my assistant, and paid him a salary? Would that help matters?”
“How many of your precious puzzles are done?”
“Sixty-nine out of the hundred.”
“How many have you solved yourself?”
“About fifty.”
“Then that man did nineteen for you?”
“Yes; and, if he hadn’t, I never could have guessed them! Oh, he is clever!”
“And when do the answers have to be sent in?”
“April first.”
“H’m! an appropriate day! Well, Patty, as your heart is so set on this thing, carry it through; but don’t ever begin on such a task again. Now, Mr. Van Reypen may help you, if you wish, but I mean it when I say he must not come here to call more than twice in one week.”
“All right,” agreed Patty, cheerfully. “May I send him some puzzles to guess, father?”
“Well, I won’t have you writing to him. Not letters, I mean. But, if you can’t guess a puzzle, you may send it to him, and I trust you not to let this permission develop into a correspondence.”
“No,