by Keineth(Lit)
"But where do you sleep when it rains?" cried Keineth.
"Oh, out there," laughed Peggy; "you see, the roof slants down so far
that it keeps out the rain. That's your cot--between Barb's and mine."
Keineth caught a glimpse of a great blue stretch of water glistening in
the bright sunlight a quarter of a mile away.
"Oh--is that the lake?" she exclaimed, eagerly.
"Yes--we'll go down to the beach in a little while. Can you swim?
Mother will teach you--she taught each one of us. I'm going to try for
the life-saving medal this year! We have sport contests at the club in
August. Can you play tennis?" Keineth said no. Peggy's manner became
just a little patronizing. "Oh, it's easy to learn, though it'll take
you quite awhile to serve a good ball, but you can practice with Alice.
Can you play golf?"
"My Daddy can."
"Well, you can walk around the links with Billy and me. Barbara plays a
dandy game--she can beat Dad all to pieces. Let's go down now and see
the garden."
Beyond the neatly-kept lawn with its bricked walks bordered with
nasturtium beds was the stretch of garden in which the children had
their individual beds. Peggy explained to Keineth that Billy this year
had planted his bed to radishes and onions; that she had put in her
seed in a pattern of her own designing which, when she separated the
weeds from the flowers would look like a splendid combination of a new
moon and the Big Dipper. Barbara and Alice had planted asters and
snapdragon because mother liked them for the house. Back of the flower
beds was a patch of young corn, and behind that the vegetable garden
which supplied the table. At one side of the garden was the barn where
poor Genevieve was now resting her rickety bones, and next to that was
a shed.
Billy was busy at work repairing the door of the shed. As the girls
came in sight he waved to them. They started on a run.
"Let's give Ken a ride on Gypsy," he called out. He dropped his hammer,
disappeared in the barn and came out leading a shaggy pony.
At the sound of the nickname carelessly bestowed upon her Keineth drew
in her breath quickly. Right at that moment she wanted more than
anything else in the world that these children should not think she was
a bit different from them! Already her plain serge dress had been hung
away and she was in a blouse and bloomers like Peggy's!
"I don't know," began Peggy doubtfully.
"Oh, please, let me have a ride," broke in Keineth in a voice she tried
to make as careless as Billy's own.
"We always ride Gypsy bareback--climb up here on these boxes!"
Keineth stepped upon the boxes, Billy wheeled the pony around and
Keineth bravely swung one leg over the pony's back, taking the halter
in her hand as she did so. Billy gave the pony a sound slap on the
shoulder and off they flew!
Never in her life had Keineth been on a horse's back, but she had
caught the challenge in Billy's laughing eyes and her soul flamed with
daring. She clenched her teeth tightly and, because she was in mortal
terror of slipping off from the pony, she gripped her knees with all
her might against his shaggy sides. In a funny little gallop--very like
a rocking horse--he circled the house, while from the shed Billy and
Peggy shouted to her encouragingly.
Keineth's first ride would have ended triumphantly if she had not laid
her hand ever so lightly on a certain spot in Gypsy's neck! For Gypsy,
having reached an age when he was of no further use in their business,
had been bought a year before from a circus company by Mr. Lee and
taken to Overlook, and at the time of the purchase no one had explained
to Mr. Lee that Gypsy's training had included quietly throwing the
clown from her back in a way which had always won screams of laughter
from the spectators and that the little act came at the moment when the
clown touched a certain spot on her neck! All the young Lees had ridden
Gypsy but had not happened to discover this little trick. But Keineth,
just as she had safely passed the kitchen door and was galloping toward
the shed, suddenly felt herself flying over Gypsy's head! Her fall was
broken by a pile of sand which had been hauled up from the beach for
the garden. Keineth was more startled than hurt, though she felt a
little stunned and lay for a moment very still.
"Oh, are you hurt?" cried Peggy, running quickly to her with Billy at
her heels.
"Oh, I s'pose she'll cry and bring mother out!" Keineth heard Billy say
behind Peggy's back.
Keineth's cheeks were very red. She stood up quickly and, though for a
moment everything danced before her eyes, she managed to laugh and
speak in a queer voice she scarcely recognized as her own.
"'Course I'm not hurt! A little fall like that!" she brushed the sand
from her blouse.
"Peggy," cried Billy, joyfully, "she's a real scout!" and Keineth knew
then that she was one of them.
Even Peggy's tone was different. "Let's ask mother if we can't go down
to the beach before lunch!" she called out over her shoulder, starting
houseward on a run.
That night a very tired little girl crept into her cot between
Barbara's and Peggy's. Alice was already asleep on the other side of
Peggy. Barbara was still on the veranda talking with her mother and
father. A soft land breeze, all sweet with garden smells, fanned their
faces as the girls lay there. What a day it had been to Keineth--she
had played in the sand, waded in the warm shallows of the lake, raced
with Peggy and Alice through the fields all white with daisies and had
gathered great bunches of the pretty flowers! She thought, as she lay
there watching the little stars peeping under the edge of the roof,
that she had never been so happy in her life! She loved Overlook and
all the Lees--and Peggy, best of all.
In whispers, reaching out from their cots to clasp hands, she and Peggy
opened their hearts to one another. She told Peggy all about poor, nice
Tante and about the old house and Francesca Ferocci and Aunt Josephine
and Fido and the French maid, and the tenants on the third floor and
her Daddy--who'd gone away on a secret. Peggy, very sleepily pictured
what they'd do on the morrow and the day after and the day after that.
Later, when Mrs. Lee went her rounds, as she always did, tucking a
cover under each loved chin, she found Keineth's fair curls very close
to Peggy's round bobbed head and their hands still clasping.
CHAPTER IV
KEINETH WRITES TO HER FATHER
My dear, dear, dearest Daddy,
I have decided to write down all my thoughts and send them to you just
like the diry Tante used to keep in her brown book that had the lock on
it, then she would lose the key and ring her hands and think Dinah had
taken it, then she would find it under her burow cover where she had
hidden it all the time. I am trying to be a good soldier. It was very
hard at first, I could not keep myself from thinking all the time of
you and Tante and our happy home where it must be a
ll dark and dusty
now like it was after we had been in the mountains with Aunt Josephine,
only worse. I do love it here, but it is not a bit like anything I have
ever seen at home or riding with Aunt Josephine. It is like a house and
like we were living right out doors, for there are so many windows and
we sleep in a big room just with a roof. I sleep right next to Peggy;
we always talk before we go to sleep, which is lots of fun, only Peggy
never listens until I finish. I say good-night to a big bright star
becose I pretend that star is shining down where you are writing
somewhere and maybe will tell you that your little girl is saying
goodnight. Way off toward the end of the sky there is a funny little
star that is very hard to see, and I say goodnight to that for Tante
becose she is so far away, too, Barbara helped me find on the map where
she had gone and Mr. Lee said poor thing. I do wish I knew if she was
unhappy.
We live downstairs in a great big room and eat there and everything, it
seems just as if flowers grew right in it, for there are boxes of them
at the windows and on the veranda, and Aunt Nellie puts big bunches of
them all around the room and Peggy has a bird that lives in a white
cage in the window and sings all the time, I guess becose the sun
shines on him. The furniture is not gold at all like Aunt Josephine's
and it is not big like we have at home and there are only one or two
rugs and the floor shines; Aunt Nellie does not fuss when we children
move things around and we have lots of fun. There is a big fireplace
made of rocks Billy says they pulled up from the beach. One time Mr.
Lee lighted some big logs in it and we all sat round and told terrible
storys of pirates and things we made up most, but Billy could think of
the worst and Mr. Lee and Aunt Nellie sat with us and told some just
like they were children, too. Sometimes Aunt Nellie seems just like a
girl, she is so jolly, she is not a bit like Aunt Josephine, though I
am sure Aunt Josephine is a very nice lady and I don't mean that I
don't love her, only Aunt Nellie kisses me as if she liked too and does
not just peck my cheek. Last week she brought me home some lovly middy
bloses like Peggy wears, and I play in bloomers all day and put on a
white skirt for supper; Mr. Lee says Peggy and I look like twins.
Auntie brought me a bathing suit, too, and a tennis raket Peggy says is
better than hers. She folded away all my hair ribbons, she said we
would not bother with them in the country. Barbara wears middy bloses,
too, but she cannot wear bloomers becose she is too old though she does
not look old or grownup. She is going away to school in the fall and
Auntie and she are getting her close ready. Alice is just a little girl
and is some fun, although she crys real often Peggy says she is
spoiled. Auntie says she will outgrow that and that Peggy cryed just as
much when she was like Alice is. I wish I could see you becose I would
like to ask you many questions about when I was a little girl. I am
sure if I had a little sister like Alice I would try and be more polite
than Peggy is, but Peggy says that families are all like that. Billy is
awful. I do not think I like him very much. He says the queerest words
and acts rude and rough. Tante would not like his manners at all. I am
ashamed becose I do not like him becose Auntie loves him dearly and she
only laughs when I think she will punish him; he does not read books
and his English is bad like Dinah's and he teses Peggy and Alice and
eats very fast and talks with food in his mouth. I shall try to like
him.
There are no sidewalks at Mr. Lee's house; they have pebble paths with
flowers here instead of sidewalks and a dirt road; it is just like the
real country and there are daisies in the fields, Peggy says they do
not call them lots. The grass is greener than in the Square at home.
All the children have gardens. Peggy says I may have half of her's and
I have a hoe and rake all my own. Billy Is going to sell his
vegertables becose he wants to buy a new sending set for his wireless.
I like the pony, though I do not like to ride it after the first time
when I fell off, though it did not hurt me at all and I was not even
frightened.
To-morrow we are going into the lake for a swim, although I will have
to learn, but Peggy says that it is easy only I must stay away from
Billy or he will duck me. I shall try and not be afraid becose I am
sure you would be ashamed of me if I acted frightened. It will be fun
to put on my new bathing suit. Auntie taught Barbara and Peggy to swim.
Peggy is going to try and win the medal this year, and Barbara says she
will becose she swims so well.
I will try and remember to write to Aunt Josephine like I promised I
would becose she is my aunt, but I will not know what to tell her
becose there is not anything in Overlook that is like what she has and
she might not like what I tell her and scold us. I am sure she would be
angry if I told her that once a week Auntie lets us girls cook the
supper and we cook just what we please and surprise them, and Barbara
puts down on a paper everything we use and how much it costs, and after
supper she gives it to Mr. Lee and we talk about it. Tomorrow is our
night. Oh I wish you were here, Daddy, it is such fun only it is very
lonely without a father. I try to do all the things that Peggy does,
though I can't do them as well, but I will tell you in this diry how I
improve as I intend to do. I have not any book to keep my thoughts in,
but I will send them to you whenever I write them. Please excuse my
spelling for I am sure no one should have to look in a dickshunary when
they are writing thoughts. Tante never did. I love you and I am sending
a million kisses with this letter.
Your little soldier daugghter, Keineth Randolph.
* * * * *
Dear Mr. President of the United States:
Please send the letter I put in the envelope to my father. He is
working for the Stars and Stripes somewhere, he said he could not tell
me where becose it was a secret. He is a soldier, but he is one of
those that do not wear any uniform. I am sure you will know where he is
becose you are the President of our Country. I would like to know, too,
very much where he is becose it is lonesome without him, for my father
is the only family I have. But my father said I must be a little
soldier. You know he just means me to do my duty and to like Overlook
and everybody and to do what they do, but it makes me feel better to
pretend that I am a soldier like he is and like all your soldiers.
Thank you if you send my letter to my father and much love.
Yours truly, Keineth Randolph.
P. S.--Aunt Josephine says postscripts are not good form, but I forgot
to say that my father's name is John Randolph, of Washington Square,
New York. This was the letter over which Keineth, curled in a chair at
the writing-desk, had labored for a long time, finishing it at last to
her satisfaction. Slipping it into an envelope with the letter
she had
written to her father she sealed it hastily, anxious to have it
addressed and mailed before Peggy and Billy returned from the golf
club.
Over on the window seat Barbara sat sewing, watching Keineth with
amused eyes; for Keineth had been writing with the dictionary open at
her elbow and had stopped very often to consult it as to the spelling
of a word.
"Very different from Peggy," thought Barbara.
Aware after a little that Keineth's face wore a perplexed frown, she
said to her:
"Can I help you, Ken?"
"If you'll just tell me how to address a letter to the President,
please."
"The President! What President?"
"The President of the United States."
"Good gracious--" Barbara, dropping her sewing, stared at Keineth in
amazement. "I thought--no wonder you're using a dictionary! I am sure I
would, too! But--" Keineth broke in hastily. "You see I have been
writing a sort of diary, about everything I think and do, to send to my
father, but I don't know where he is because he has gone away on a
mission for our country and it has to be kept a secret, but I
thought--" Her voice broke a little and she held the letter tightly in
her hands.
Barbara, feeling how close the tears were to Keineth's bright eyes,
crossed quickly to her side.
"Oh, I see!" she said briskly. "What a splendid idea! Of course the
President will know where he is and will send it to him. Let me
think--we learned all that in school and had to address make-believe
letters to him--" Taking a sheet of paper she wrote in large letters:
Honorable Woodrow Wilson,
White House,
Washington, D. C.