by Keineth(Lit)
"It looks too simple for the President--it ought to have more
flourishes to it and titles and things, shouldn't it, Ken? You copy it
and we'll walk straight down to the post office and mail it so that it
will go on to-night's train." Tears were far from Keineth's eyes as she
walked by Barbara's side down the white road between the fields of
daisies and buttercups. The little cloud of loneliness that had for a
brief time threatened her sky had disappeared and she was again a
light-hearted little girl, eagerly awaiting the happy things that each
new day at Overlook seemed to bring to her.
CHAPTER V
PILOT COMES TO OVERLOOK
"This is the third time in a week that Billy's been late for dinner,"
said Mrs. Lee, looking from Billy's empty place at the table to his
father's face.
Mr. Lee was serving the steaming chicken and biscuits that Nora had
placed on the table.
"He asked me if he could go to the fair at Middletown! He wanted his
next week's allowance."
"William," and Mrs. Lee's gentle voice was stern, "you do spoil that
boy dreadfully!"
"He's with Jim Archer!" Peggy put in. She knew that her mother did not
like Jim Archer.
"Billy's with him a lot," added Barbara.
"He teases us girls all the time, too, Mother! He put June bugs in my
bed last night!" cried Alice.
"Billy is certainly in all wrong just now," answered Mr. Lee with a
twinkle in his eyes.
"But _do_ you think these fairs are quite the places for boys like
Billy and Jim Archer--alone?" asked Mrs. Lee with a troubled look. "He
should have been home long ago! They must have ridden their wheels!"
"Don't worry, little mother! Billy will come home tired and hungry and
none the worse for the fair! Why, when I was a boy I never missed a
fair anywhere around and always walked, too! _They_ used to be real
fairs--nothing like them these days!"
The children knew that when their father began his "when I was a boy,"
it could mean a story if there was a little coaxing!
"Oh, tell us a story!" Alice cried.
"Please do!" added Keineth. It would make them all forget to feel cross
toward Billy!
So, chuckling a little under his breath, Mr. Lee began:
"Down in our village old Cy Addington had a calf he'd entered in the
County Fair. He'd set his heart on that calf's winning a prize--all the
other farmers had told him it would. It was black as jet with just a
little white mark on its fore quarter. He tended that calf like a baby
and spent hours at a time getting it all in shape for the Fair. Well,
the night before the Fair opened two boys--bad boys they were--stole
that calf out of its shed, took it off in some woods where they had a
lantern and a can of paint hidden under a log. What do you think they
did? Painted the animal white--snow white--every bit of him! Then they
took him to the graveyard and tied him to a tombstone!"
"Oh, Daddy, how dreadful!" cried Alice.
"Then what happened?" demanded Keineth and Peggy in one voice.
"Well, a lot of things happened, and they happened fast! Miss Cymantha
Jones, a nervous spinster, was walking home from Widow Markham's
house--rather late, but she'd been caring for the widow through a sick
spell. And Miss Cymantha saw that calf jumping around among the
tombstones and thought it was a ghost! She let out such screams that it
brought Charley, the old sexton, running to the door in his night
shirt, and he saw the calf, and Miss Cymantha scuttling down the road
screaming and holding her skirts high so's she could run faster, and I
guess he thought it was the resurrection itself, for what did he do but
ring the bell and the folks all thought it was a fire and came rushing
out in all kinds of clothes! Then Cy Addington found his precious calf
and the neighbors had an indignation meeting right then and there and
the ones who had the most clothes on started out to find the offenders
and some of the others went in to quiet Miss Cymantha, and a few others
put the sexton to bed and locked him in so that he couldn't give any
more alarms!"
"But what happened to the boys?"
"Oh, when the crowd was the most excited they just climbed over a
woodshed into the house and by the time the volunteers were lined up to
go to find them they were sound asleep!"
"Who were they, Father? Were they boys you knew?" asked Peggy.
Mr. Lee laughed down the length of the table and Peggy caught the
answering smile in her mother's eyes.
"Oh, I know--I know! It was you, Daddy," she cried, running from her
chair to kiss the back of his head.
"Come, dear, sit down! William, if you were that sort of a boy what can
we expect of Billy? Hark--isn't that his whistle?" She stepped eagerly
to the door, the girls close behind her.
"He's all right--he always whistles when he's happy!"
"It is he!" cried Mrs. Lee, going down the steps. "And what in the
world is he bringing with him!"
For Billy, covered with dust, guiding his bicycle with one hand, was
walking leisurely up the road leading with an air of pride edged
slightly by a disturbing doubt, a dirty, weary-eyed dog!
"A dog--of all things!" cried Barbara,
"_Where'd_ you get it?" demanded Peggy eagerly.
The family stood on the bottom step and eyed Billy's treasure. The dog
seemed to have no doubt as to his welcome, for in his desire to greet
his adopted family he strained at the slender leash with which Billy
held him.
"Whose dog is it, Billy," asked Mrs. Lee.
"I bought him for a dollar!" Billy glanced questioningly at his mother.
He had heard her declare ever so often that she would not allow a
long-haired dog in the house! And this new pet had a very long, shaggy,
dirty hide! Peggy was on her knees with both arms around the dog's
neck.
"Just see him shake hands!" Alice was crying.
But the quiet of Mrs. Lee's manner disturbed Billy. "I think you'd
better come into the house and see if Nora has saved you any supper.
After you have finished we will hear about the dog."
"Let me hold him, please, Billy!" begged Peggy. Keineth stood a little
apart. She was not yet sure that she wanted a closer acquaintance with
the newcomer. She had known few dogs; her father had always warned her
to leave the stray dogs that she met on the street quite alone--and she
had detested Aunt Josephine's silky poodle! But this poor scrap was
wagging his stubby tail and looking at her in a coaxing manner that
said plainly, "Let's be friends!"
Within the house Billy was cramming down biscuits and chicken gravy
with an enjoyment that covered the concern he felt at his mother's
attitude. When he could speak for the food in his mouth he told her of
the crowds at the fair. But with the last mouthful of custard pie
bolted he went straight to the point: "Can I keep him, Mother?"
She rose and, with Billy following, went out upon the veranda. At sight
of his new master the dog broke away from Peggy and leaped upon him,
&
nbsp; his big paws on Billy's shoulders.
"Can't I keep him, Mummy?" he asked, pleadingly, looking from his
mother to his father.
"Mummy, this is such a lovely dog--" implored Alice, the June bugs
forgotten.
"And we'll take care of him," added Peggy.
Billy put one arm around the dog's neck.
"I guess when you hear the story 'bout him you'll let him stay," he
said solemnly.
"Tell us, son," Mr. Lee joined in for the first time.
So Billy stood before them to plead for his dog.
"Jim and I got to the Fair, 'nd he told me to wait outside and he'd
scout around and see if he couldn't find his uncle who had a show
inside, 'cause Jim thought maybe his uncle could get us in for nothing
and we'd have more money to spend. It was awful hot and I went over and
sat under the trees across the road and watched the people come. All of
a sudden I heard a dog cry, and over near one of the other trees was a
man that looked like a tramp trying to make a dog go ahead and kicking
him awful 'cause the dog wouldn't go! The dog would cry and then the
man'd kick him again and swear awful. Well, I was mad--I gave that
whistle that Rex used to know and the dog sort of listened, then I
whistled harder and the dog made a jump and broke his string and ran
like a flash right to me just's if he knew I was a friend! The man came
after him, swearing harder than ever. But I just took the dog and stood
right up and I said to him: 'You don't know how to treat a dog!' I
thought maybe he'd hit me, he looked so mad, but I went on talking real
fast. I said, 'He's a lot like a dog I know--what'll you sell him for?'
Because I'd sort o' decided he'd stolen him and might be glad to get
rid of him, you see! And the man said, 'How much'll you give?' and I
told him I'd give a dollar, and he reached out for the string and said,
'That ain't enough,' and I said, 'That's all I've got,' and just that
minute a policeman came along towards us and he said quick, 'He's
yours,' and I gave him my dollar and you ought to have seen him beat
it!"
Upon the rest of the story Billy touched lightly--how, his dollar gone,
he had had no money with-which to buy his way into the fair; how Jim,
returning from an unsuccessful search for the uncle and finding Billy
and the dog under the tree, had, disgusted by Billy's extravagance,
left him there, bidding him wait! But later Jim had relented and had
treated Billy to an ice-cream cone from the tent near the gate. Then
Jim had started for home and Billy had walked the five miles between
Middletown and Overlook, pushing the bicycle and leading the tired dog.
"And I never saw the Fair at all," he finished, breathless from his
story.
"Well, Mother--don't you think Billy deserves the dog?" said Mr. Lee
when Billy had finished. And Keineth whispered, "Goody, goody!"
Mrs. Lee laughed. "I will say that he may stay here on trial--while
we're in the country. But, oh, dear--I had hoped we'd never have
another dog--and of all things, a long-haired dog!"
"Jim Archer said he was an Airedale," broke in Billy, proudly stroking
the dirty head. "Pretty cheap for a dollar, I think!"
"Let's name him," cried Alice eagerly. "I think you'd better bathe him
first," chuckled Mr. Lee. Then, turning to his wife, "You know I think
it is a valuable dog! The fellow must have stolen him!"
In triumph Billy and Peggy led the newcomer towards the pump for his
bath, while Keineth went in search of soap and a sponge. Over the bath
they discussed names and, as it looked as though they could not agree,
they decided that, because Keineth was a visitor, she should select the
name.
And after a little thought she called him Pilot.
"Pilot Lee," said Peggy, squeezing a spongeful of water over the dog's
head.
An hour later a very tired boy was sleeping soundly, while on the floor
beside his cot lay the dog--his warm muzzle faithfully snuggled against
Billy's dusty shoe.
CHAPTER VI
THE MUSIC THE FAIRIES PUT IN HER FINGERS
On the shaded corner of the wide veranda Mrs. Lee sat making
buttonholes in a blouse for Billy, humming as she worked. Occasionally
she patted the crisp cloth in her hand as though she loved this task of
stitching for her youngsters. About her quiet reigned; broken now and
then by Peggy's bird in its cage and the far-off sound of the gasoline
mower on the golf course.
Suddenly Barbara came around the corner of the house, like a rose, in
her fresh pink gingham. In her hand she swung a putter.
"Off for the golf links, dear?" Mrs. Lee asked, glancing with pride
over the straight, slim figure of the girl.
"Yes, Mother, Carol Day and I play off our match this afternoon. If I
beat her I'll win those candlesticks--"
"They will look very pretty on your dresser," smiled Mrs. Lee. "I know
what you mean, Mother--that I'm just playing for the candlesticks alone
and I'm not at all, for when I do win one I sort of hate taking a
prize. But I would like to beat Carol because she does play such a good
game!"
"That's the spirit, Bab. Where are the little girls?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, Mother," Barbara, balancing
herself on the arm of a chair, tapped her toe with the putter. "Peggy
and Alice have gone off to Molly Sawyer's and they've left Keineth
home. I don't think they're treating her a bit nicely!"
"Why didn't she go with them?"
"I don't think Peggy asked her to go. She and Molly were going to play
tennis on the Sawyer courts with Joan Crate, a girl that's out here
from town, and Keineth felt left out. Peggy told her she couldn't play
well enough to play with them and that it spoiled a game playing with
beginners, anyway!"
Mrs. Lee stitched in silence. Barbara went on:
"And I heard Billy the other day teasing her about her father. He
laughed at her when she said her father was a soldier, only the kind
that didn't wear a uniform, and he told her there weren't any soldiers
like that! I think you ought to speak to the children, Mother."
"Never mind, Bab, those things will straighten themselves. Peggy must
be more considerate and patient and I will tell Billy something about
Keineth's father--Billy will be interested. We may some day have reason
to be very proud of knowing him, for he may become a very great man,
besides doing an immense good for this country of ours. Run along,
dear, to your game and good luck to you!"
Barbara kissed the top of her head and hurried away. Mrs. Lee sat on
alone, her hands idly clasped over the blouse in her lap. It was her
way to puzzle out these little problems quietly.
Suddenly across the June stillness came the sound of exquisite music;
clear, thrilling notes, unreal--fairylike! Almost hesitatingly Mrs. Lee
turned as though she expected to see a fairy sprite in gauzy robes
approaching her from the shadows of the house! She rose and crept
toward the window. No sprite was there--only Keineth sitting before the
piano, her smal
l hands softly touching the keys as though by magic she
drew the melody from them. Across her fair head fell a slanting bar of
sunlight. To this her eyes were raised in rapt contentment.
From the window Mrs. Lee watched and listened. There seemed to be no
beginning or end to the melody--it ran on and on, now plaintive, like a
small voice crying--now full of laughter with a happy note like that of
a bird.
"Child--" Mrs. Lee stepped through the long window into the room.
Keineth turned quickly.
"I didn't know--anyone was here," she said, shyly.
But Mrs. Lee scarcely heard her. She had clasped her arms about the
small form and was holding it very close.
"I was just playing--what the fairies put in my fingers," Keineth
explained from the depths of Mrs. Lee's embrace.
"They are fairy fingers indeed," laughed Mrs. Lee. "Let us sit down
here together and you must tell me all about it. Who taught you to play
like that, child?"
"No one--like that. Madame Henri always gave me lessons. They were very
stupid and I hated having to practice. But every evening, when we'd sit
together, I'd play to Daddy the music that came into my fingers.
Sometimes he'd stand by the piano until I was finished and then he'd
kiss my fingers and say 'fairy fingers', only Tante used to snore so
loudly, poor thing."