Houseboat Girl

by Lois Lenski

  “Oh, you’ll learn all right,” said Mama. “All my kids are real fish when it comes to water. They’ve never been scared of the river.”

  “You folks want any milk?” asked Mrs. Preston. “With two cows, we got more’n we need. I got plenty to sell.”

  “Milk?” asked Mrs. Foster. “No, thanks, we don’t need any. My kids don’t like it. They haven’t lived on land long enough to get to like it, I reckon.” She took her visitor into the houseboat to look it over.

  “Well, I never!” said Mrs. Preston, when they came out on the porch again. “You’ve got it better than I have. With bottled gas and everything!”

  “It’s our home,” said Mrs. Foster. “I try to have it nice. Of course we don’t hook up our electric lights unless we’re stayin’ a long time.”

  The sky began to cloud over, so Mrs. Preston took her children and hurried home, afraid of rain.

  “I hope my clothes will get dry,” said Mrs. Foster.

  After the woman left, Patsy thought of the River City house and the neighbors there.

  “I wonder how Pushcart Aggie’s parakeets are,” said Patsy. “I bet if I’d a asked her for it, she’d a given me one. A parakeet would make a nice pet for a houseboat.”

  “Yes, if the cat didn’t eat it,” said Mama.

  “Remember the Millers and the time Janey found a pearl?” asked Patsy.

  “It takes more than a pearl to make a mussel-fisherman rich,” said Mama.

  Patsy thought of the Cramer girls and Ginny and Lora and felt quite homesick. “When we goin’ back to River City, Mama?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Mama. “Ask your daddy.”

  Just then the johnboat came round the end of the fish barge.

  “Come on, Patsy!” called Milly. “You goin’ with us?”

  Patsy ran and jumped in the boat and Daddy started the outboard motor. They were headed down river to get shrimp for bait.

  “It’s fixin’ to rain,” called Mama. “Don’t you think you’d better wait and go later?”

  But her words were lost on the wind. The motor roared loudly and off they went. Soon they came to a sandy bank and got out. The two girls walked down the bank pulling the seine net. They scooped up the river shrimp and dumped them in the bait bucket. But Mama was right—it began to rain and the wind turned into a gale, so Daddy called them back to the johnboat.

  “Storm coming!” he shouted. “Let’s go home!”

  The girls dropped everything and ran. Chug-chug-chug started the motor, then it slowed up and died. Daddy fussed with it, but it would not start again. He took the oars and began rowing. It began to pour. Daddy pulled and pulled, trying to get the johnboat around a fallen tree in the river, but, every time the wind came, the waves jumped over the boat.

  “Oh Daddy, we’re gettin’ soaked!” cried Patsy.

  “A little rain won’t hurt you!” Daddy laughed.

  At last the boat got out in the river and Daddy kept on rowing. When they came to the chute, it was windy there, too. The wind had blown the clothesline down, and Mama was out picking the clothes up from the mud.

  “Patsy!” she called. “You never propped the clothesline up the way I told you.”

  The girls helped pick the wet clothes up and made a dash for the houseboat. Bunny and Dan were hugging the porch posts to keep from being blown off.

  “Shut the door! Shut the door!” cried Patsy, pushing everybody in.

  “Oh, this wind!” cried Mama. “It’s trying to blow all the furniture through the house and out the back door.”

  They all changed to dry clothes. Daddy moved the houseboat farther down the chute, out of the wind. Soon the storm was over. The wind and rain

  Then Daddy saw some crows ahead on the sandy bank.

  “They’re after turtle eggs,” he said, chasing them away. “Shoo! I can use those eggs myself.” He found a circular hole on the bank, poked a stick in six or eight inches and uncovered twenty-four turtle eggs. They were round as marbles and had soft shells.

  “Are they good to eat?” asked Patsy.

  “Sure,” said Daddy. “They’re better to eat than the turtle meat. We’re lucky to get these before the crows did.”

  Back at the houseboat, Daddy boiled the eggs and punched a hole in each to let the white run out like jelly. The yolk was cooked hard, but the white stayed liquid like milk. He baited hooks with the eggs, shells and all, as far as they went, then used shrimp. Baiting his hooks meant an hour and a half of work for Daddy. He sat on the edge of the fish barge and worked steadily and quietly. He had three trotlines, each in a square “line box.” Each line had from eighty to one hundred short cords with hooks attached. He had to put bait on every hook. All the cords had to be carefully placed so they would not get tangled.

  Tom, the cat, came sniffing up.

  “Looky here!” said Daddy. “These shrimp are for the fish, not for you.”

  Patsy gave Tom a dish of shrimp all for himself. Then she fed her chickens and watered them. As soon as the hooks were baited, Daddy got ready to go out and set his lines. He put his knee boots on and took a can of gasoline to the johnboat. He put the line boxes in the boat. He dried the motor off and got it started.

  “Hey, Patsy!” he called. “You goin’ with me?”

  Patsy came running and jumped in beside him. They chugged up river a half mile or so. Then Daddy turned the oars over to Patsy while he set his lines.

  Patsy liked going out alone with Daddy. He treated her as if she were grown up. He didn’t boss her the way Milly did. It was always quiet and peaceful out on the river alone with Daddy. He didn’t talk much and neither did she, but they understood each other.

  Each fish line had a heavy weight on one end to sink it in the water. Daddy threw out the other end, with a double-can buoy attached. The buoy floated on the waves and showed him the location of the line the next day. When the line was in place, all the short cords with the baited hooks hung down in the water to snag the fish.

  On their way back, Daddy stopped by a log that was sticking out of the water. Patsy picked up three mud turtles and tossed them into the boat.

  “More pets?” Daddy laughed.

  “I can’t ever get enough,” said Patsy.

  Early the next morning before breakfast, Patsy went out again to help Daddy run the lines and bring the fish in. He caught some big ones this time. One weighed eighteen pounds and one fifteen. He took them and those already in the fish box and packed them in the tub of ice in the trunk of the old car.

  Mama was all dressed up in her good clothes, ready to go to town. Daddy hurried to change.

  “Can’t I go with you?” begged Patsy.

  “No,” said Mama, “you stay here. You kids are O. K. here.”

  “But Mama,” said Patsy, “I want to go along. I want to help sell fish.”

  “We don’t need you,” said Mama.

  “You goin’ to leave us all alone here, Mama?” asked Patsy.

  “You won’t be alone,” said Mama. “Milly will be here.”

  “Milly’s so bossy,” said Patsy. “She won’t let me do a thing I want to. She won’t let me go out in the johnboat or anything.”

  “Well, you can’t swim,” said Mama. “I’d worry myself to death if Milly wasn’t here to pull you kids out.”

  “She can boss Dan and Bunny all she wants to,” said Patsy. “They’re just babies. I’ve got more sense than they’ve got.”

  “You listen to what Milly tells you,” said Mama. “She knows how to cook and use the gas stove. You mind what she says and you won’t get in any trouble.”

  “When will you be back?” asked Patsy.

  “It’ll be three o’clock if we don’t stop for groceries,” said Mama. “If we do, we won’t be home till five. The fish markets are flooded now and won’t buy fish. Daddy’s got so many this time, we’ll have to peddle them at people’s houses till we sell them all.”

  Patsy looked sad as she watched the old Ford go up the ri
ver bank and away. The day would be endless until five o’clock. The houseboat was not like home with Mama away. She thought of her old Illinois friends, Ginny Cobb and the Cramer girls, and the thought made her homesick. There were no children on Mayfield Creek except the Preston boy and girl who were not allowed to play by the river. Beyond the Preston house was a country store where a cranky old man named Stub Henderson sold groceries. But he had no family.

  There was no one around but bossy Milly. Dan and Bunny had their toys on the back porch and played there all morning long.

  Patsy took her turtles out of the fish box and lined them up on deck. She had twelve now. She pretended they were pupils in school and she was the teacher. Each time one moved out of his seat, she took her stick and made it go back. She tried to think up tricks, but the turtles did not respond. They were stupid, so she put them back in the fish box. She decided to catch skipjacks for bait.

  Skipjacks were fish that barely hit the water. They flipped and jumped in a school of minnows, trying to catch them. Patsy got her pole and sat on the guard. The pole had a wire line with a grabhook—three hooks welded together. She began snagging the skipjacks. She had fourteen in her pail when Dan came out. In trying to go past her on the guard, he kicked the pail over.

  “Now, look what you’ve done!” cried Patsy. “Spilled all my skipjacks!”

  Dan ran round the guard and Patsy chased him. She caught him and ducked his head in a tub of wash water that was standing on the back porch. Then Dan took a dipper and began throwing water in her face. Patsy backed up and then, splash! Back she fell into the river!

  Just what Mama said, she thought. I’m always falling in. She bobbled about, trying to save herself. If I could only swim! That’s what Mama’s been saying all along—I’ve got to learn how. But I don’t know how to swim. That means I’m going to go down three times and drown. She swallowed some water and began to choke. She thrashed her arms about wildly. Where’s Milly? Why doesn’t Milly come? She’s supposed to haul all the little kids out, Mama said. Mama won’t worry if Milly stays home with us. Patsy felt herself going down, but she didn’t go down at all.

  Somebody had hold of her arm. Somebody was pushing and shoving her. She reached up and got hold of the guard. A man’s voice said, “I’ve got her.” And she was lifted up on deck.

  Now they turned her over and started pumping water out of her. She wished they would stop. At last they did and she was able to rest and get her breath back. Then she opened her eyes.

  There was Milly with frightened face, kneeling beside her. There was Stub Henderson, the cranky old storekeeper, staring down at her. And over on the leather couch, Bunny and Dan were holding each other and crying their eyes out.

  “You’re gonna learn to swim, young lady,” said Stub! He sounded very cross. “I’m gonna learn you myself before this day is over.”

  When Patsy got up, she looked at Stub Henderson and said, “What you doin’ here?”

  “I was fishin’ in my johnboat when I heard a big splash,” Stub said. “I come over to get the biggest fish of all and it was YOU!”

  Milly laughed, but Patsy did not think his joke was funny at all. She was worried about only one thing. “Promise me you won’t tell Mama and Daddy,” she begged.

  Stub promised on condition that Patsy would learn how to swim.

  “Come on, now,” he said. “No time like the present.”

  “I’m tired,” said Patsy. “I nearly got drowned just now.”

  But Stub would not listen to excuses. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

  “I know how to dog paddle,” said Patsy. “All Dan and Bunny can do, is mud crawl.” Reluctantly she put on her bathing suit.

  “Dog paddling is not swimming,” said Stub.

  He meant business, so he anchored his boat out in the river, where the water was over Patsy’s head. He showed her how to do the side stroke, and told her to swim out to him and he would catch her. Patsy was very scared, but she jumped in and tried it.

  “Come on!” called Stub. “Keep comin’.”

  Patsy tried to make the strokes the way Stub told her, and was surprised when she reached Stub’s boat. Stub moved it farther out, and she tried again. He gave her several pointers, and she tried to do it right.

  “You’re swimmin’, kid! You’re swimmin’!” shouted Stub.

  Patsy swam back and forth several times. Dan and Bunny clapped their hands and even Milly was pleased.

  “Now I won’t have to pull you out any more,” said Stub, as he paddled away in his boat. Patsy kept on practising after he left. Then she got tired, so she climbed up on the deck to rest.

  “From now on,” said Milly, “if you fall in, you can get yourself out.”

  When Mamma and Daddy got back at five o’clock, the children were excited over the news they had to tell.

  “Patsy can swim! Patsy can swim!” they cried. They told how Stub Henderson came and gave her lessons. At first Mama would not believe it. Then she said, “It’s about time you learned. Now I’ll stop worryin’ about you fallin’ in. It’ll be Little Abe’s turn to learn next.”

  The very next Saturday, Patsy got her longed-for trip to town. Daddy slipped on the fish barge and sprained his ankle, so he decided not to go. Mama took Patsy with her.

  It was a hot summer day. They drove through corn and tobacco fields. The tobacco was only a foot high and had not begun to sucker yet. The corn was getting tall and roasting ears were setting on. They passed orchards of fruit trees and soon came to Barlow, a small town. Main Street was lined with booths, and peddlers in cars. It was a busy place with people coming and going. Country people had brought vegetables, chickens, eggs, corn and other produce to sell. Town people came to buy.

  Mrs. Foster and Patsy sat in the Ford and waited for customers. When one came, Mama got out and sold fish. Buying was brisk for a while, then it slackened.

  “We’ll have to go on to Kevil,” said Mama, discouraged. “Daddy’s better at selling than I am.” Then she saw a familiar figure coming down the street. “There comes Mr. Cooper. He’s been buying from us every week. Maybe he’ll help us out.”

  Mr. Cooper owned the restaurant down at the corner.

  “So this is the houseboat girl!” he exclaimed, patting Patsy on the back. “Got any fresh fish today, Mrs. Foster?”

  He looked the fish over and said he would take all that were left in the tub. While Mrs. Foster was weighing up, a stray cat came along and sniffed at the fish. Patsy picked it up.

  “Put that cat down, Patsy,” said Mama. “Don’t start messin’ with a strange alley cat.”

  The restaurant man looked at Patsy again. “Is this the girl that likes pets so much?” he asked.

  “It sure is,” said Mama. “She just can’t let ’em alone.”

  Mr. Cooper said, “You don’t want a cat, girl. I’ll give you a dog.”

  Patsy gasped. “You will?” she said. This was too good to be true. She dropped the cat hastily.

  “Come with me,” said Mr. Cooper.

  Mrs. Foster laughed. “You’re just fooling. We don’t need a dog.”

  But Patsy was on her way to the restaurant. When she came back, she led a short-haired half-grown black dog on a rope. Mr. Cooper came back, too.

  “We can’t take a dog with us,” said Mrs. Foster. “Our house boat’s crowded already.”

  Mr. Cooper laughed. “What’s a houseboat without a dog?”

  They all looked at the dog whose name was Blackie.

  “Except for his white breast, he’s the blackest dog I ever saw,” said Mr. Cooper. “His hair is so shiny, it glitters. That dog’s not scared of a thing—he’s part hound and part just plain cur. Take him along with you, Patsy. I know you’ll give him a good home.”

  Patsy could not find words to thank Mr. Cooper. When she and Mama got home, the children crowded round and patted Blackie on the head. Blackie wagged his tail, happy to have found good friends. Daddy said he looked like a mighty fine dog, but Mama kept
on shaking her head.

  “I’ve got enough kids without taking on a bunch of pets,” she said.

  CHAPTER IV

  On the River Again

  “WE’RE GOIN’ ON THE river again!” cried Dan.

  “We are?” asked Patsy. She could hardly believe it.

  There was brisk excitement in the air. Daddy was getting his motors tuned up and was putting things in order on the fish barge. Mama had done a good housecleaning in the houseboat and a big family washing on the river bank. While Daddy was baiting his lines for the last time, Mama got supper ready.

  Only Milly did not want to go.

  “We can’t go yet,” she said. “Our order hasn’t come. I haven’t a decent dress to wear to town.”

  Three weeks before, Mama and Milly had sent an order to a mail order house for a dress for Milly and some sewing supplies. Every day Milly went to the Wickliffe post office, but no package had come.

  “The postmaster said he would forward it,” said Mama. “I told him we would stop at Columbus.”

  “That means we’ll never get it,” said Milly.

  “I can’t help it,” said Mama. “Daddy’s set to go.”

  Patsy shinnied up the “monkey pole” to the roof of the houseboat. Milly was already there, tying down fishing gear and nets. They saw Daddy go off round the bend of the chute.

  “What’s he setting his lines tonight for?” asked Patsy.

  “To get a big haul of fish,” said Milly.

  “Are we taking smelly old fish with us?” asked Patsy. “Do we have to wait till Daddy runs his lines in the morning? I thought we were starting early.”

  “Daddy will bring them in by daylight,” said Milly.

  At supper Mama said, “We’ll stop at Columbus, Kentucky, to sell our fish. That’ll give us a little cash money to go on. Daddy’s got a Kentucky fishing license, so we’ll stop wherever we can in Kentucky and fish along the way.”

  “But if we’re goin’ somewhere, why can’t we just hurry up and get there?” asked Patsy. “I just want to get to New Orleans so bad!”

  “On the river nobody likes to hurry,” said Daddy, who had just come in. “That’s the good thing about it.”