Children's Book Classics - Kate Douglas Wiggin Edition: 11 Novels & 120+ Short Stories for Children. Kate Douglas Wiggin
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to fall into danger during his rambles about the camp. We might as well state here, however, that this precaution proved fruitless, for he blew it at all times and seasons; and everybody became so hardened to its melodious shriek that they paid no attention to it whatever,—history, or fable, thus again repeating itself.
Mr. and Mrs. Noble had driven Margery and Phil into town from the fruit ranch, and were waiting to see the party off.
Mrs. Oliver was to live in the Winship house during the absence of the family, and was aiding them to do those numberless little things that are always found undone at the last moment. She had given her impetuous daughter a dozen fond embraces, smothering in each a gentle warning, and stood now with Mrs. Winship at the gate, watching the three girls, who had gone on to bid Elsie good-bye.
‘I hope Pauline won’t give you any trouble,’ she said. ‘She is so apt to be too impulsive and thoughtless.’
‘I shall enjoy her,’ said sweet Aunt Truth, with that bright, cordial smile of hers that was like a blessing. ‘She has a very loving heart, and is easily led. How pretty the girls look, and how different they are! Polly is like a thistledown or a firefly, Margery like one of our home Mayflowers, and I can’t help thinking my Bell like a sunbeam.’
The girls did look very pretty; for their mothers had fashioned their camping-dresses with much care and taste, taking great pains to make them picturesque and appropriate to their summer life ‘under the greenwood tree.’
Over a plain full skirt of heavy crimson serge Bell wore a hunting jacket and drapery of dark leaf-green, like a bit of forest against a sunset. Her hair, which fell in a waving mass of burnished brightness to her waist, was caught by a silver arrow, and crowned by a wide soft hat of crimson felt encircled with a bird’s breast.
Margery wore a soft grey flannel, the colour of a dove’s throat, adorned with rows upon rows of silver braid and sparkling silver buttons; while her big grey hat had nothing but a silver cord and tassel tied round it in Spanish fashion.
Polly was all in sailor blue, with a distractingly natty little double-breasted coat and great white rolling collar. Her hat swung in her hand, as usual, showing her boyish head of sunny auburn curls, and she carried on a neat chatelaine a silver cup and little clasp-knife, as was the custom in the party.
‘It’s very difficult,’ Polly often exclaimed, ‘to get a dress that will tone down your hair and a hat that will tone up your nose, when the first is red and the last a snub! My nose is the root of all evil; it makes people think I’m saucy before I say a word; and as for my hair, they think I must be peppery, no matter if I were really as meek as Moses. Now there’s Margery, the dear, darling mouse! People look at her two sleek braids, every hair doing just what it ought to do and lying straight and smooth, and ask, “Who is that sweet girl?” There’s something wrong somewhere. I ought not to suffer because of one small, simple, turned-up nose and a head of hair which reveals the glowing tints of autumn, as Jack gracefully says.’
‘Here they come!’ shouted Jack from the group on the Howards’ piazza. ‘Christopher Columbus, what gorgeousness! The Flamingo, the Dove, and the Blue-jay! Good-morning, young ladies; may we be allowed to travel in the same steamer with your highnesses?’
‘You needn’t be troubled,’ laughed Bell. ‘We shall not disclose these glories until we reach the camp. But you are dressed as usual. What’s the matter?’
‘Why, the fact is,’ answered Geoffrey, ‘our courage failed us at the last moment. We donned our uniforms, and looked like brigands, highway robbers, cowboys, firemen,—anything but modest young men; and as it was too warm for ulsters, we took refuge in civilised raiment for to-day. When we arrive, you shall behold our dashing sombreros fixed up with peacock feathers, and our refulgent shirts, which are of the most original style and decoration.’
‘Aboriginal, in fact,’ said Jack. ‘We have broad belts of alligator skin, pouches, pistols, bowie-knives, and tan-coloured shoes; but we dislike to flaunt them before the eyes of a city public.’
‘Here they are!’ cried Geoffrey, from the gate. ‘Uncle, and aunt, and Dicky, and—good gracious! Is he really going to take that wretched tan terrier?’
‘Won’t go without him,’ said Bell, briefly. ‘There are cases where it is better to submit than to fight.’
So the last good-byes were said, and Elsie bore up bravely; better, indeed, than the others, who shed many a furtive tear at leaving her. ‘Make haste and get well, darling,’ whispered the girls, lovingly.
‘Pray, pray, dear Mrs. Howard, bring her down to us as soon as possible. We’ll take such good care of her,’ teased Bell, with one last squeeze, and strong signs of a shower in both eyes.
‘Come, girls and boys,’ said kind Dr. Paul, ‘the steamer has blown her first whistle, and we must be off.’
Oh, how clear and beautiful a day it was, and how charmingly gracious Dame Ocean looked in her white caps and blue ruffles! Even the combination steamboat smell of dinner, oil, and close air was obliterated by the keen sea-breeze.
The good ship Orizaba ploughed her way through the sparkling, sun-lit waves, traversing quickly the distance which lay between the young people and their destination. They watched the long white furrow that stretched in her wake, the cloud of black smoke which floated like a dark shadow above the laughing crests of the waves, and the flocks of sea-gulls sailing overhead, with wild shrill screams ever and anon swooping down for some bit of food flung from the ship, and then floating for miles on the waves.
How they sung ‘Life on the Ocean Wave,’ ‘Bounding Billow,’ and ‘Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep!’ How Jack chanted,—
‘I wish I were a fish,
With a great long tail;
A tiny little tittlebat,
A wiggle or a whale,
In the middle of the great blue sea. Oh, my!’
‘Oh, how I long to be there!’ exclaimed Philip, ‘to throw aside all the formal customs of a wicked world I abhor, and live a free life under the blue sky!’
‘Why, Philip Noble! I never saw you inside of a house in my life,’ cried Polly.
‘Oh, yes; you’re mistaken. I’ve been obliged to eat most of my meals in the house, and sleep there; but I don’t approve of it, and it’s a trial to be borne with meekness only when there’s no remedy for it.’
‘Besides,’ said Jack, ‘even when we are out-of-doors we are shelling the reluctant almond, poisoning the voracious gopher, pruning grape-vines, and “sich.” Now I am only going to shoot to eat, and eat to shoot!’
‘Hope you’ve improved since last year, or you’ll have a low diet,’ murmured Phil, in an undertone.
‘The man of genius must expect to be the butt of ridicule,’ sighed Jack, meekly.
‘But you’ll not repine, although your heartstrings break, will you?’ said Polly, sympathisingly; ‘especially in the presence of several witnesses who have seen you handle a gun.’
‘How glad I am that I’m too near-sighted to shoot,’ said Geoffrey, taking off the eye-glasses that made him look so wise and dignified. ‘I shall lounge under the trees, read Macaulay, and order the meals.’
‘I shall need an assistant about the camp,’ said Aunt Truth, smilingly; ‘but I hardly think he’ll have much time to lounge; when everything else fails, there’s always Dicky, you know.’
Geoffrey looked discouraged.
‘And, furthermore, I declare by the nose of the great Tam o’ Shanter that I will cut down every tree in the vicinity ere you shall lounge under it,’ said Jack.
‘Softly, my boy. Hill’s blue-gum forest is not so very far away. You’ll have your hands full,’ laughed Dr. Paul.
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