CHAPTER IV.
"TO BARLEY-BRIGHT."
THE next few days went by happily for the Little Colonel, for Betty tookher to all her favourite haunts, and kept her entertained from morningtill night. Once they stayed all day in the woods below the barn,building a playhouse at the base of a great oak-tree, with carpets ofmoss, and cups and saucers made of acorns.
Scott and Bradley joined them, and for once played peaceably, building afurnace in the ravine with some flat stones and an old piece of stovepipe. There they cooked their dinner. Davy was sent to raid the gardenand spring-house, and even Lee and Morgan were allowed a place at thefeast, when one came in with a hatful of guinea eggs that he had foundin the orchard, and the other loaned his new red wheelbarrow, to add tothe housekeeping outfit.
"Isn't this fun!" exclaimed the Little Colonel, as she watched Betty,who stood over the furnace with a very red face, scrambling the eggs inan old pie-pan. "I bid to be the cook next time we play out here, andI'm going to make a furnace like this when I go back to Locust."
High above them, up the hill, on the back porch of the farmhouse, Mollystood ironing sheets and towels. Whenever she glanced down into theshady hollow, she could see Lloyd's pink dress fluttering along theravine, or Betty's white sunbonnet bobbing up from behind the rocks. Thelaughing voices and the shouts of the boys came tantalisingly to herears, and the old sullen pout settled on her face as she listened.
"It isn't fair that I should have to work all day long while they areoff having a good time," she muttered, slapping an iron angrily down onthe stove. "I s'pose they think that because I'm so big I oughtn't tocare about playing; but I couldn't help growing so fast. If I _am_nearly as big as Mrs. Appleton, that doesn't keep me from feeling like alittle girl inside. I'm only a year older than Scott. I _hate_ them! Iwish that little Sherman girl would fall into a brier patch and scratchher face, and that a hornet would sting Betty Lewis smack in the mouth!"
By and by a tear sizzled down on the hot iron in her hand. "It isn'tfair!" she sobbed again, "for them to have everything and me nothing,not even to know where my poor little sister is. Maybe somebody'sbeating her this very minute, or she is shut up in a dark closet cryingfor me." With that thought, all the distressing scenes that had made herpast life miserable began to crowd into her mind, and the tears sizzledfaster and faster on the hot iron, as she jerked it back and forth overa long towel.
There had been beatings and dark closets for Molly many a time beforeshe was rescued by the orphan asylum, and the great fear of her life wasthat there was still the same cruel treatment for the little sister whohad not been rescued, but who had been hidden away by their drunkenfather when the Humane Society made its search for her.
Three years had passed since they were lost from each other. Molly wasonly eleven then, and Dot, although nearly seven, was such a tiny,half-starved little thing that she seemed only a baby in her sister'seyes. Many a night, when the wind moaned in the chimney, or the ratsscampered in the walls, Molly had started up out of a sound sleep,staring fearfully into the darkness, thinking that she had heard Dotcalling to her. Then suddenly remembering that Dot was too far away tomake her hear, no matter how wildly she might call, she had buried herface in her pillow, and sobbed and sobbed until she fell asleep.
The matron of the asylum knew why she often came down in the morningwith red eyes and swollen face, and the knowledge made her more patientwith the wayward girl. Nobody taxed her patience more than Molly, withher unhappy moods, her outbursts of temper, and her suspicious, jealousdisposition. She loved to play, and yelled and ran like some wildcreature, whenever she had a chance, climbing the highest trees, makingdaring leaps from forbidden heights, and tearing her clothes intoribbons. But she rebelled at having to work, and in all the time she wasat the asylum the matron had found only one lovable trait in her. It washer affection for the little lost sister that made her gentle to thesmaller children on the place and kind to the animals.
She had been happier since coming to the Appleton farm, where there wereno rules, and the boys accepted her leadership admiringly. She foundgreat pleasure in inventing wild tales for their entertainment, infrightening them with stories of ghosts and hobgoblins, and in teachingthem new games which she had played in alleys with boot-blacks andstreet gamins.
All that had stopped with the arrival of the visitors. Their comingbrought her more work, and left her less time to play. The sight ofLloyd and Betty in their dainty dresses aroused her worst jealousy, andawoke the old bitterness that had grown up in her slum life, and thatalways raged within her whenever she saw people with whom fortune haddealt more kindly than with herself. All that day, while the seven happychildren played and sang in the shady woodland, she went around at herwork with a rebellious feeling against her lot. Everything she did wasto the tune of a bitter refrain that kept echoing through her soreheart: "It isn't fair! It isn't fair!"
Late in the afternoon a boy came riding up from the railroad stationwith a telegram for Mrs. Sherman. It was the first one that had everbeen sent to the farm, and Bradley, who had gone up to the house for ahatchet, waited to watch Mrs. Sherman tear open the yellow envelope.
"Take it to Lloyd, please," she said, after a hurried reading. "Tell herto hurry up to the house." Thrusting the message into his hand, shehurried out of the room, to find Mrs. Appleton. Bradley felt veryimportant at being the bearer of a telegram, and ran down the hill asfast as his bare feet could carry him over the briers and dry stubble.He would have teased Lloyd awhile by making her guess what he had,before giving it to her, if it had not been for Mrs. Sherman's requestto hurry.
Lloyd read the message aloud. "_Aunt Jane alarmingly ill; wants to seeyou. Come immediately._" "Oh, how provoking!" she exclaimed. "I s'posewe'll have to start right off. We always do. We nevah plan to goanywhere or do anything without Aunt Jane gets sick and thinks she'sgoin' to die. She's an old, old lady," she hastened to explain, seeingBetty's shocked face. "She's my great-aunt, you know, 'cause she's mygrandmothah's sistah. I wouldn't have minded it so much when we firstcame," she confessed, "but I don't want to leave now, one bit. We've hada lovely time to-day, and I hate to go away befo' I've seen the cave youpromised to take me to and the Glenrock watahfall, and all thoseplaces."
It never occurred to the Little Colonel that she might be left behind,until she reached the house and found her mother with her hat on,packing her satchel.
"I've barely time to catch the next train," she said, as Lloyd camerunning into the room. "It is a two-mile drive to the station, you know,and there's not time to get you and all your things ready to take withme. It wouldn't be wise, anyhow, for everything is always in confusionat Aunt Jane's when she is ill. Mrs. Appleton will take good care ofyou, and you can follow me next week if Aunt Jane is better. Betty willcome with you, and we'll have a nice little visit in the city while shedoes her shopping and gets ready for her journey. I'll write to you assoon as I can decide when it will be best for you to come. Aunt Jane'sillness is probably half scare, like all her others, but still I feelthat I must never lose a moment when she sends for me, as she might beworse than we think."
Mrs. Sherman packed rapidly while she talked, and almost before Lloydrealised that she was really to be left behind, a light buckboard was atthe door, and Mr. Appleton was standing beside the horse's head waiting.There was not even time for Lloyd to cling around her mother's neck andbe petted and comforted for the sudden separation. There was a hastyhug, a loving kiss, and a whispered "Good-bye, little daughter. Mother'ssorry to go without her little girl, but it can't be helped. The timewill soon pass--only a week, and remember this is one of your schooldays, and the lesson set for you to learn is _Patience_."
Lloyd smiled bravely while she promised to be good and not give Mrs.Appleton any trouble. Her mother, looking back as they drove away, sawthe two little girls standing with their arms around each other, wavingtheir handkerchiefs, and thought thankfully, "I am glad that Lloyd ishere with Betty instead of at Locust. She'll not have tim
e to belonesome with so many playmates."
It was hard for Lloyd to keep back the tears as the carriage passed outof sight around the corner of the graveyard. But Bradley challenged herto a race down-hill, and with a loud whoop they all startedhelter-skelter back to the ravine to play. She had been busy making somepine-cone chairs for the little parlour at the roots of the oak-tree,when the telegram called her away, and now she went back to thatdelightful occupation, working busily until the supper-horn blew to callthe men from the field. It was always a pleasure to Lloyd to hear thathorn, and several times she had puffed at it until she was red in theface, in her vain attempts to blow it herself. All the sound she couldawaken was a short dismal toot. It was a cow's horn, carved andpolished, that had been used for nearly forty years to call the menfrom the field. When Mrs. Appleton puckered her lips to blow it, herthin cheeks puffed out until they were as round and pink as the baby's,and the long mellow note went floating across the fields, clear andsweet, till the men at work in the farthest field heard it and answeredwith a far-away cheer.
"Let's get Molly to play Barley-bright with us to-night," said Bradley,as they trudged up the hill. "It is a fine game, and if we help her withthe dishes, she'll get done in just a few minutes, and we'll have nearlyan hour to play before it gets dark."
The same thought was in Molly's mind, for after supper she called theboys aside and whispered to them. She wanted to slip away from the girlsand not allow them to join in the game; but Bradley would not listen tosuch an arrangement. He insisted that the game would not be any funwithout them.
Then Molly, growing jealous, turned away with a pout, saying that shemight have known it would be that way. They had had plenty of fun beforethe girls came, but to go ahead and do as they pleased. It didn't makeany difference to _her_. _She_ could get on very well by herself.
Lloyd had gone down to the spring-house with Mrs. Appleton, but Bettyheard the dispute and put an end to it at once. "Here!" she cried,catching up a towel. "Everybody come and help, and we'll be throughbefore you can say Jack Robinson. Pour out the hot water, Molly. Getanother towel, Bradley. We'll wipe, and Davy can carry the dishes to thepantry. We'll be through before Scott has half filled the wood-box."
Molly could not keep her jealous mood and sulky frowns very long in themidst of the laughing chatter that followed, and in a very few minutesBetty had talked her into good humour with herself and all the world.Such light work did the many hands make of the dish-washing, that thesky was still pink with the sunset glow when they were ready to beginthe game.
"We always go down to the hay-barn to play Barley-bright," said Bradley."I never cared for it when we played it at school in the day-time, butwhen we play it Molly's way it is the most exciting game I know. Weusually wait till it begins to get dark and the lightning-bugs areflying about.
"TO THEIR EXCITED FANCY SHE SEEMED A REAL WITCH."]
"Molly and I will stand the crowd, this time. Our base will be here atthe persimmon-tree in front of the barn, and yours will be the pasturebars down yonder. The barn will be Barley-bright, and after we call outthe questions and answers, you're to try to run around our base to thebarn, and back again to yours, without being caught by a witch. Thereare six of you, so you can have six runs to Barley-bright and back, andif by that time we have caught half of you the game is ours. The witchhas the right to hide and jump out at you from any place she chooses,but I can't touch you except when you pass my base. Now shut your eyestill I count one hundred, while the witch hides."
Six pairs of hands were clasped over six pairs of eyes, while Bradleyslowly counted, and Molly, darting away from his side, hid behind thestraw-stack.
"One--hun-dred--all eyes open!" he shouted. They looked around. Thefireflies were flashing across the pasture and the dusk was beginning todeepen. Then six voices rang out in chorus, Bradley's shrill pipeanswering them.
"How many miles to Barley-bright?" "_Three score and ten!_" "Can I get there by candle-light?" "_Yes, if your legs are long and light_-- _There and back again!_ _Look out! The witches will catch you!_"
Molly was nowhere in sight, so with a delicious thrill of excitement,not knowing from what ambush they would be pounced upon, the sixpilgrims to Barley-bright started off at the top of their speed.Across the pasture they rushed, around Bradley's base at thepersimmon-tree, and up to the big barn door, which they were obliged totouch before they could turn and make a wild dash back to the pasturebars.
Just as they reached the barn door, Molly sprang out from behind thestraw-stack; but they could not believe it was Molly, she was sochanged. To their excited fancy she seemed a real witch. Her black hairwas unbraided, and streamed out in elfish wisps from under a tallpointed black hat. A hideous mask covered her face, and she brandishedthe stump of an old broom with such effect that they ran from her,shrieking wildly.
Some heavy wrapping paper, a strip of white cotton cloth, and coal-sootfrom the bottom of a stove lid had changed an ordinary girl of fourteeninto a nameless terror, from which they fled, shrieking at the top oftheir voices. The boys had been through the performance many times, butthey enjoyed the cold thrill it gave them as much as Betty and Lloyd,who were feeling it for the first time.
Lee was caught in that first mad race, and Morgan in the second, andthey had to go over to the enemy's base, where Bradley stood guard underthe persimmon-tree. As they came in from the third run, Lloyd leanedagainst the pasture bars, out of breath.
"Oh, I believe I should drop dead," she panted, "if that awful thingshould get me. I can't believe that it is only Molly. She seems like areal suah 'nuff witch." She glanced over her shoulder again with alittle nervous shudder as the others began calling again:
"_How many miles to Barley-bright?_"
Betty was caught this time, and Lloyd, to whom the game was becoming aterrible reality, stood with her heart beating like a trip-hammer andher eyes peering in a startled way through the dusk. This time the witchpopped up from behind the pasture bars, and Lloyd, giving a startledlook over her shoulder as she flew, saw that the broomstick wasflourished in her direction, and the hideous black and white mask wasalmost upon her. With an ear-splitting scream she redoubled her speed,racing around and around the barn, instead of touching the door andturning back, when she saw that she was followed.
Finally, with one sharp scream of terror after another, she darted intothe great dark barn, in a blind frenzy to escape. She heard the voicesof the children outside, the bang of the broomstick against the door,and then plunging forward, felt herself falling--falling!
There was just an instant in which she seemed to see the faces of hermother and Papa Jack. Then she remembered nothing more, for her headstruck something hard, and she lay in a little heap on the floor below.She had fallen through a trap-door into an empty manger.
The Little Colonel's Holidays Page 7