CHAPTER II
AN EXASPERATING GUEST
"Aren't hard-boiled eggs the very best things to eat in all the world?"said Marjorie, as she looked lovingly at the golden sphere she had justextracted from its ivory setting.
"They're awful good," agreed King, "but I like oranges better."
"Me eat lollunge," piped up Rosy Posy. "Buffaro Bill would 'ike alollunge."
"So you shall, Baby. Brother'll fix one for you."
And the shipwrecked Captain carefully prepared an orange, and gave itbit by bit into the eager, rosy fingers.
"Of all things in the world," said Kitty, "I like chocolate creamsbest."
"Oh, so do I, if I'm not hungry!" said Marjorie. "I think I likedifferent things at different times."
"Well, it doesn't matter much what you like now," said King, as he gavethe last section of orange to Rosy Posy, "for everything is all eatenup. Where'd you get those eggs, Mops? We never hardly have them excepton picnics."
"I saw them in the pantry. Ellen had them for a salad or something. So Ijust took them, and told her she could boil some more."
"You're a good one, Mopsy," said her brother, looking at her in evidentadmiration. "The servants never get mad at you. Now if I had hookedthose eggs, Ellen would have blown me up sky-high."
"Oh, I just smiled at her," said Marjorie, "and then it was all right.Now, what are we going to do next?"
"Hark!" said Kingdon, who was again the shipwrecked mariner. "I hear adistant sound as of fierce wild beasts growling and roaring."
"My child, my child!" shrieked Kitty, snatching up Arabella. "She willbe torn by dreadful lions and tigers!"
"We must protect ourselves," declared Marjorie. "Captain, can't youbuild a barricade? They always do that in books."
"Ay, ay, ma'am. But also we must hoist a flag, a signal of distress. Forshould a ship come by, they might stop and rescue us."
"But we have no flag. What can we use for one?"
"Give me your daughter's petticoat," said the Captain to Kitty.
"Not so!" said Kitty, who was fond of dramatic phrases. "Arabella'spetticoat is spandy clean, and I won't have it used to make a flag."
"I'll give you a flag," said Marjorie. "Take my hair-ribbon." She beganto pull off her red ribbon, but Kingdon stopped her.
"No," he said, "that won't do. We're not playing Pirates. It must be awhite flag. It's for a signal of distress."
Marjorie thought a moment. There really seemed to be no white flagavailable.
"All right!" she cried, in a moment. "I'll give you a piece of mypetticoat. It's an old one, and the ruffle is torn anyhow."
In a flash, impetuous Marjorie had torn a good-sized bit out of herlittle white petticoat, and the Captain fastened it to a long branch hehad broken from the maple tree.
This he managed, with the aid of some stones, to fasten in an uprightposition, and then they sat down to watch for a passing sail.
"Buffaro Bill so s'eepy," announced that small person, and, with fat oldBoffin for a pillow, Rosy Posy calmly dropped off into a morning nap.
But the others suffered various dreadful vicissitudes. They wereattacked by wild beasts, which, though entirely imaginary, requiredalmost as much killing as if they had been real.
Kitty shot or lassoed a great many, but she declined to engage in thehand-to-hand encounters with tigers and wolves, such as Marjorie andKingdon undertook, for fear she'd be thrown down on the ground. And,indeed, her fears were well founded, for the valiant fighters were oftenthrown by their fierce adversaries, and rolled over and over, only topick themselves up and renew the fray.
More exciting still was an attack from the natives of the island. Theywere horrible savages, with tomahawks, and they approached withblood-curdling yells.
Needless to say that, after a fearful battle, the natives were all slainor put to rout, and the conquerors, exhausted but triumphant, sat roundtheir camp-fire and boasted of their valorous deeds.
As noontime drew near, the settlers on the island began to grow hungryagain, and, strange to say, the imaginary birds they shot and ate werenot entirely satisfying.
Buffalo Bill, too, waked up, and demanded a jink of water.
But none could leave the island and brave the perils of the boundlessocean, unless in a rescuing ship.
For a long time they waited. They waved their white flag, and they evenshouted for help.
But the "island" was at some distance from the house or street and nonecame to rescue them.
At last, they saw a huge, white-covered wagon slowly moving along theback drive.
"A sail! A sail!" cried the Captain. "What, ho! Help! Help!"
The other shipwrecked ones joined the cry, and soon the wagon drew alittle nearer, and then stopped.
"Help! Help!" cried the children in chorus.
It was the butcher's wagon, and they knew it well, but this seasonthere was a new driver who didn't know the Maynard children.
"What's the matther?" he cried, jumping from his seat, and runningacross the grass to the quartette.
"We're shipwrecked!" cried Marjorie. "We can't get home. Oh, save usfrom a cruel fate! Carry us back to our far-away fireside!"
"Help!" cried Kitty, faintly. "My child is ill, and I can no longersurvive!"
Dramatic Kitty sank in a heap on the ground, and the butcher's boy wasmore bewildered than ever.
"Save me!" cried Rosy Posy, toddling straight to him, and putting up herarms. "Save Buffaro Bill first,--me an' Boffin."
This was more intelligible, and the butcher's boy picked up the smilingchild, and with a few long strides reached his cart, and deposited hertherein.
"Me next! Me next!" screamed Marjorie. "I'm fainting, too!" With a thud,she fell in a heap beside Kitty.
"The saints presarve us!" exclaimed the frightened Irishman. "Whativeris the matther wid these childher? Is it pizened ye are?"
"No, only starving," said Marjorie, but her faint voice was belied bythe merry twinkle in her eyes, which she couldn't suppress at the sightof the man's consternation.
"Aha! It's shammin' ye are! I see now."
"It's a game," explained Kingdon. "We're shipwrecked on a desert island,and you're a passing captain of a small sailing vessel. Will you take usaboard?"
"Shure, sir," said the other, his face aglow with Irish wit andintelligence. "I persave yer manin'. 'Deed I will resky ye, but how willye get through the deep wathers to me ship forninst?"
"You wade over, and carry this lady," said King, pointing to Kitty, "andthe rest of us will swim."
"Thot's a foine plan; come along, miss;" and in a moment Kitty was swungup to the brave rescuer's shoulder, while King and Midget were already"swimming" across the grass to the rescue ship.
All clambered into the wagon, and the butcher drove them in triumph tothe back door. Here they jumped out, and, after thanking their kindrescuer, they scampered into the house.
"Such a fun!" said Rosy Posy, as her mother bathed her heated littleface. "Us was all shipperecked, an' I was Buffaro Bill, an' Boffin wasmy big wild bear!"
"You two are sights!" said Mrs. Maynard; laughing as she looked at themuddied, grass-stained, and torn condition of Kingdon and Marjorie. "I'mglad you had your play-clothes on, but I don't see why you always haveto have such rough-and-tumble plays."
"'Cause we're a rough-and-tumble pair, Mothery," said King; "look atKitty there! she kept herself almost spick and span."
"Well, I'm glad I have all sorts of children," said Mrs. Maynard. "Goand get into clean clothes, and be ready for luncheon promptly on time.I'm expecting Miss Larkin."
"Larky! Oh!" groaned Kingdon. "I say, Mothery, can't we--us children, Imean--have lunch in the playroom?" He had sidled up to his mother andwas caressing her cheek with his far-from-clean little hands.
"No," said Mrs. Maynard, smiling as she kissed the brown fingers, "no,my boy, I want all my olive-branches at my table to-day. So, run alongnow and get civilized."
"Come on, Mops," said Kingdon,
in a despairing tone, and, with theirarms about each other, the two dawdled away.
Kitty had already gone to Nurse to be freshened up. Kitty loved company,and was always ready to put on her best manners.
But King and Midget had so much talking to do, and so many plans tomake, that they disliked the restraint that company necessarily put upontheir own conversation.
"I do detest old Larky," said the boy, as they went away.
"I don't mind her so much," said Marjorie, "except when she asks mequestions."
"She's always doing that."
"Yes, I know it. But I promised Mother I'd be extra good to-day, and tryto talk politely to her. Of course, I can do it if I try."
"So can I," said King, with an air of pride in his own powers. "Allright, Mops, let's be 'specially 'stremely good and treat Miss Larkinjust lovely."
Nearly an hour later the four shipwrecked unfortunates, now transformedinto clean, well-dressed civilians, were grouped in the library to awaitMiss Larkin's arrival.
The lady was an old friend of Mrs. Maynard's, and though by no meanselderly, was yet far from being as young as she tried to look and act.
She came tripping in, and after greeting her hostess effusively, sheturned to the children.
"My, my!" she said. "What a group of little dears! How you havegrown,--every one of you. Kingdon, my dear boy, would you like to kissme?"
The request was far from acceptable to King, but the simper thataccompanied it so repelled him that he almost forgot his determinationto be very cordial to the unwelcome guest. But Midge gave him a warningpinch on his arm, and with an unintelligible murmur of consent, he putup his cheek for the lady's salute.
"Oh, what a dear boy!" she gurgled. "I really think I shall have to takeyou home with me! And, now, here's Marjorie. How are you, my dear? Doyou go to school now? And what are you learning?"
Miss Larkin's questions always irritated Marjorie, but she answeredpolitely, and then stepped aside in Kitty's favor.
"Sweet little Katharine," said the visitor. "You are really an angelchild. With your golden hair and blue eyes, you're a perfect cherub;isn't she, Mrs. Maynard?"
"She's a dear little girl," said her mother, smiling, "but not alwaysangelic. Here's our baby, our Rosamond."
"No, I'se Buffaro Bill!" declared Rosy Posy, assuming a valiantattitude, quite out of keeping with her smiling baby face and chubbybody.
"Oh, what delicious children! Dear Mrs. Maynard, how good of you to letme come to see them."
As Miss Larkin always invited herself, this speech was literally true,but as she and Mrs. Maynard had been schoolmates long ago, the latterfelt it her duty to give her friend such pleasure as she could.
At the luncheon table, Miss Larkin kept up a running fire of questions.
This, she seemed to think, was the only way to entertain children.
"Do you like to read?" she asked of Marjorie.
"Yes, indeed," said Midget, politely.
"And what books do you like best?"
"Fairy stories," said Marjorie, promptly.
"Oh, tut, tut!" and Miss Larkin shook a playful finger. "You shouldlike history. Shouldn't she, now?" she asked, appealing to Kingdon.
"We like history, too," said Kingdon. "At least, we like it some; but weboth like fairy stories better."
"Ah, well, children will be children. Do you like summer or winterbest?"
This was a poser. It had never occurred to Marjorie to think which sheliked best.
"I like them both alike," she said, truthfully.
"Oh, come now; children should have some mind of their own! Little MissKitty, I'm sure you know whether you like summer or winter best."
Kitty considered.
"I like winter best for Christmas, and summer for Fourth of July," shesaid at last, with the air of one settling a weighty matter.
But Miss Larkin really cared nothing to know about these things; it wasonly her idea of making herself entertaining to her young audience.
"And you, Baby Rosamond," she went on, "what do you like best in all theworld?"
"Boffin," was the ready reply, "an' Buffaro Bill, 'cause I'm it."
They all laughed at this, for in the Maynard family Rosy Posy's highestimation of herself was well known.
Although it seemed as if it never would, the luncheon at last came to anend.
Mrs. Maynard told the children they might be excused, and she and MissLarkin would chat by themselves.
Decorously enough, the four left the room, but once outside the house,King gave a wild whoop of joy and turned a double somersault.
Midget threw herself down on a veranda-seat, but with a beaming face,she said:
"Well, we behaved all right, anyway; but I was 'most afraid I'd be saucyto her one time. It's _such_ a temptation, when people talk like that."
"She talked all the time," said Kitty. "I don't see when she ateanything."
"She didn't," said King. "I suppose she'd rather talk than eat. She'snot a bit like us."
"No," said Marjorie, emphatically, "she's not a bit like us!"
Marjorie's Busy Days Page 2