But that was all she could say. She tried to save herself from falling, but she could not. Nor could Bert. He went down, on one side of the doorsill, and Dinah sat down, very hard, on the other, the cake bouncing from her hands, up toward her head, and then falling into her lap.
CHAPTER IV
At the Houseboat
“Did—did I hurt you, Dinah?” asked Bert, after he had gotten his breath. “I’m—I’m sorry—but did I hurt you?”
“Hurt me? Hurt me, honey lamb? No indeedy, but I done reckon yo’ has hurt yo’se’f, honey! Look at yo’ pore haid!” and she pointed her fat finger at Bert.
“Why, what’s the matter with my head?” he asked, putting up his hand. He felt something sticky, and when he looked at his fingers, he saw that they were covered with white stuff.
“Oh, it’s the frosting off the cake!” said Nan with a laugh. “You look something like one of the clowns in the circus, Bert, only you haven’t enough of the white stuff on.”
“And look at Dinah!” laughed Freddie. “She’s turning white!”
“What’s dat, honey lamb? Turnin’ white?” gasped the big, colored cook. “Don’t say dat!”
“It’s the cake frosting on Dinah, too!” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Oh, Bert! why aren’t you a little more careful?”
“I’m sorry, mamma,” Bert said, as he watched Dinah wipe the frosting off her face with her apron. “I didn’t know she was coming through the door then.”
“And I shore didn’t see yo’, honey lamb,” went on the cook. “Land ob massy! Look at mah cake!” she cried, as she gazed at the mass in her lap. “All de frostin’ am done slid off it!”
“Yes, you’re a regular wedding cake yourself, Dinah,” said Mr. Bobbsey, who had come in to see what all the noise meant. “Well, this seems to be a day of excitement. I’m glad it was no worse, though. Better go up stairs and wash, Bert.”
“The cake itself isn’t spoiled,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, lifting it from Dinah’s lap, so the colored cook could get up. It was no easy work for her to do this, as she was so fat. But at last, after many groanings and gruntings, she rose to her feet, and took the cake from Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I’ll put some mo’ frostin’ on it right away, ma’am,” she said. “An’ I hopes nobody else runs inter me,” she went on with a laugh. “I shuah did feel skeered dat Bert was hurt bad.”
They could all laugh at the happening now, and after Mr. Bobbsey had told a little more about the new houseboat, he went back to the office.
“Come on, Flossie,” suggested Freddie. “Now you’ve found the book straps, we can hitch Snap to the express wagon. Where’d you find ’em?”
“The straps were on our books, under the hall rack,” said Flossie.
“That’s just where I left ’em!” exclaimed Freddie. “I knew I left ’em somewhere.”
“But next time you must remember,” cautioned his mother. “And remember another thing—no more bicycle rides—you stay on your velocipede.”
“Yes’m,” said Freddie. “Come on, Flossie. Where’s Snap?”
When the little twins went to look for their big, shaggy pet, who could do so many circus tricks, they could not find him.
“Have you seen Snap?” asked Freddie of Dinah’s husband, Sam Johnson, who was out in the barn.
“Snap?” repeated the colored man. “Why, Freddie, I done jest see Snap paradin’ down de road wif dat black dog from Mr. Brown’s house.”
“Then Snap’s gone away again,” said Flossie with a sigh. “Never mind, Freddie. Let’s play steamboat, and you can be the fireman.”
“All right,” he agreed, much pleased with this idea. “We’ll make believe we’re in our new houseboat. Come on.”
“Steamboat” was a game the smaller twins often played on the long Saturdays, when there was no school. All they needed was an old soap box for the boat, and some sticks for oars. Then, with some bits of bread or cake, which Dinah gave them to eat, in case they were “shipwrecked,” they had fine times.
Meanwhile, Bert and Nan had asked permission of their mother to go over to where some of their boy and girl friends lived, so they were prepared to have a good time, too.
“Oh, but what fun we’ll have on the houseboat, won’t we, Bert?” said Nan.
“That’s what we will,” he agreed with a laugh.
Monday morning came, after Sunday (as it always does if you wait long enough) and the two sets of Bobbsey twins started for school.
“I wish we didn’t have to go,” said Bert, as he strapped up his books. “I want to go down to our new houseboat.”
“But you must go to school,” said his mother with a smile. “There will not be many more days now. June will soon be over, and you know school closes a little earlier than usual this year. So run along, like good children.”
Off they hurried and soon they were mingling with their boy and girl friends, who were also on their way to their classes.
“You can’t guess what we’re going to have,” said Freddie to a boy named Johnnie Wilson, who was in his room.
“Kittens?” asked Johnnie.
“No.”
“Puppies?”
“No.”
“I give up—what is it?”
“A houseboat,” said Freddie. “It’s a house on a boat, and you can live in it on water.”
“Huh!” said Johnnie. “There isn’t any such thing.”
“Yes, there is, too, isn’t there, Flossie?” and Freddie appealed to his small sister.
“’Course there is,” she said. “Our papa bought one, and Freddie’s going to be the fireman, and I’m going to cook the meals, so there! Haven’t we got a houseboat, Nan?”
“Yes, dear,” answered the older sister, who was walking with Bert. At this, coming from Nan, Johnnie had nothing to say, except that he murmured, as he walked away:
“Huh! A houseboat’s nothing. We’ve got a baby at our house, and it’s got hair on its head, and two teeth!”
“A houseboat’s better’n a baby,” was Freddie’s opinion.
“It is not!” cried Johnnie.
“It is so!” Freddie exclaimed.
“Hush!” begged Nan. “Please don’t dispute. Houseboats and babies are both nice. But now it’s time to go to school.”
The Bobbsey twins could hardly wait for the classes to be out that day, for their mother had promised to call for them after lessons, and, with their father, they were going to see the Bluebird. The houseboat had been brought up the lake by Mr. Marvin, and tied to a dock not far from Mr. Bobbsey’s lumber office. The boat was now the property of Mr. Bobbsey, but that gentleman had not yet fully planned what he would do with her.
Just as the children were trooping out of the school yard, along came Mrs. Bobbsey. Nan and Flossie saw their mother and hastened toward her, while Freddie and Bert came along more slowly.
In a little while all five of them were at Mr. Bobbsey’s lumber office. He came out of his private room, when one of his clerks told him Mrs. Bobbsey and the children were there.
“Ah, what can I do for you today?” asked Mr. Bobbsey of his wife, just like Mr. Fitch, the grocery-store-keeper. “Would you like a barrel of sawdust, ma’am; or a bundle of shingles to fry for the children’s suppers?” and Mr. Bobbsey pretended he was no relation to his family.
“I think we’ll have a houseboat,” said his wife with a laugh. “Have you time to take us down to it? I can’t do a thing with these children, they are so anxious to see the Bluebird.”
“Well, I hope they’ll like her,” said Mr. Bobbsey, “and not pull any feathers out of her tail.”
“Oh, is there a real bird on the boat?” asked Flossie.
“No, papa is only joking,” said Nan, with a smile.
Mr. Bobbsey put on his hat, and soon the whole Bobbsey family had reached the place where the boat was tied. At the first sight of her, with her pretty blue paint and white trimming, Nan cried:
“Oh, how lovely!”
“And how big
it is!” exclaimed Freddie his eyes large and round with wonder.
“Let’s go aboard—where’s the gang-plank?” asked Bert, trying to use some boat language he had heard from his father’s lumbermen.
The Bluebird was indeed a fine, large houseboat, roomy and comfortable. The children went inside, and, after looking around the main, or living room, and peering into the dining-room, Nan opened the door of a smaller compartment. Inside she saw a cunning little bed.
“Oh, may I have this room?” she asked. “Isn’t it sweet!”
“Here’s another just like it,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, opening the next door.
“That will be mine,” said Flossie.
“My room’s going to be back here, by the engine,” spoke Bert, as he picked out his sleeping place.
“And I’ll come with you,” said Freddie. “I’m going to be fireman!” Gleefully the children were running about, clapping their hands, and finding something new and strange every minute.
“Where is your room, mamma?” asked Nan. “We ought to have let you and papa have first choice.”
“Oh, there are plenty of rooms,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “Let’s go up on deck and—”
He stopped suddenly, and seemed to be listening.
“What is it?” asked his wife.
“There seems to be some one on this boat beside ourselves,” answered Mr. Bobbsey. “I’ll go look.”
CHAPTER V
The Strange Boy
The Bobbsey twins looked at one another, and then at their mother, as Mr. Bobbsey went out of the living room of the houseboat, toward the stairway that led up on deck.
Bert tried to look brave, and as though he did not care. Nan moved a little closer to her mother. As for Flossie, she, too, was a little frightened, but Freddie did not seem at all alarmed.
“Is it somebody come to take the boat away from us?” he asked in his high-pitched, childish voice. “If it is—don’t let ’em, papa.”
They all laughed at this—even Mr. Bobbsey, and he turned to look around, half way up the stairs, saying:
“No, Freddie, I won’t let them take our boat.”
“Pooh! Just as if they could—it’s ours!” spoke Bert.
“Who could it be on board here, mamma?” asked Nan.
“I don’t know, dear, unless it was some one passing through the lumber yard, who stopped to see what the boat looked like,” answered Mrs. Bobbsey. “Papa will soon find out.”
The noise they had heard was the footsteps of some one walking about on the deck of the houseboat.
“Perhaps it was one of the men from the office, who came to tell papa he was wanted up there, or that some one wanted to speak to him on the telephone,” went on Mrs. Bobbsey. She saw that the children, even Bert, were a little alarmed, for the boat was tied at a lonely place in the lumber yard, and tramps frequently had to be driven away from the piles of boards under which there were a number of good places to sleep.
Mr. Bobbsey did not mean to be unkind to the poor men who had no homes, but tramps often smoke, and are not careful about their matches. There had been one or two fires in the lumber yard, and Mr. Bobbsey did not want any more blazes.
Soon the footsteps of the children’s father were heard on the deck above them, and, a little later Freddie and the others could hear the talk of two persons.
“I guess it was one of the men,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.
“I’m going to see,” spoke Bert, and he moved toward the stairway, followed by Nan, Flossie and Freddie. They went up on deck and saw their father talking to a strange boy. None of the Bobbsey children knew him.
“Are you looking for some one?” asked Mr. Bobbsey kindly, of the strange boy. Often, when he was in distant parts of the lumber yard, and he was wanted at the office, or telephone, his men might ask some boy to run and tell the owner of the yard he was needed. But Mr. Bobbsey had never seen this lad before.
“No, sir, I—I wasn’t looking for any one,” said the boy, as he looked down at his shoes, which were full of holes, and put his hands into the pockets of his trousers, which were quite ragged. “I was just looking at the boat. It’s a fine one!”
“I’m glad you like it,” said Mr. Bobbsey with a smile.
“Could you go to sea in this boat?” asked the boy, who was not very much older than Bert.
“Go to sea? Oh, no!” answered Mr. Bobbsey. “This boat is all right on a lake, or river, but the big waves of the ocean would be too strong for it. We don’t intend to go to sea. Why? Are you fond of sailing?”
“That’s what I am!” cried the boy. “I’m going to sea in a ship some day. I’m sick of farm-life!” and his eyes snapped.
“Are you a farmer?” asked the twins’ father.
“I work for a farmer, and I don’t like it—the work is too hard,” the boy said, as he hung his head.
“There is plenty of hard work in this world,” went on Mr. Bobbsey. “Of course too much hard work isn’t good for any one, but we must all do our share. Where do you work?”
“I work for Mr. Hardee, who lives just outside the town of Lemby,” answered the boy.
“Oh, yes, I know Mr. Hardee,” spoke Mr. Bobbsey. “I sold him some lumber with which he built his house. So you work for him? But what are you doing so far away from the farm?”
“Mr. Hardee sent me over here, to Lakeport, on an errand.”
“Well, if I were you I wouldn’t come so far away from where I left my horse and wagon,” cautioned Mr. Bobbsey, for the place where the boat was tied was a long distance from the main road leading from Lakeport to Lemby.
“I didn’t come in a wagon,” said the boy. “I walked.”
“What! You don’t mean to say you walked all the way from Lemby to Lakeport?” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, who had now come up on deck.
“Yes’m, I did,” answered the boy. “Mr. Hardee said he needed the horses to work on the farm. He said I was young, and the walk would do me good. So Mrs. Hardee, she gave me some bread and butter for my lunch, and I walked. I’m walking back now, and I came this way by the lake. It’s a short cut.
“Then I happened to see this boat here. I like boats, so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to come on board.”
“Oh, no, that’s all right!” said Mr. Bobbsey quickly. “I’ll be glad to have you look around, though this is only a houseboat, and not built for ocean travel. So you work for Mr. Hardee, eh? What’s your name?”
“Will Watson,” the boy said. Mrs. Bobbsey was trying to motion to her husband to come toward her. It seemed as though she wanted to say something to him privately.
“Will Watson, eh?” went on Mr. Bobbsey. “I don’t seem to know any family of that name around here.”
“No, I don’t belong around here,” the boy said. “I come from out west—or I used to live there when I was littler. I’ve got an uncle out there now, if I could ever find him. He’s a gold miner.”
“A gold miner?” said Mr. Bobbsey, and then his wife came up to him, and whispered in his ear. Just what she said the twins could not hear, but, a moment later Mr. Bobbsey said:
“Bert, suppose you take Will down and show him the boat, since he is so interested.”
“Oh, I’m going to!” cried Freddie. “I want to show him where I’m going to be a fireman.”
“And I want to show him my room,” said Flossie.
The strange boy looked at the little twins and smiled. He had a nice face, and was quite clean, though his clothes were ragged and poor.
“Come along down if you like,” said Bert kindly. “There’s a lot to see below the deck.”
With a friendly nod of his head Will Watson followed the three children. Nan stayed on deck with her parents.
“It’s a shame to make him walk all the way from Lemby here and back,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “It must be all of five miles each way.”
“It is,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “Quite a tramp for a little fellow.”
“Can’t you find some way to give him a ride back?” asked his
wife. “Aren’t any of your wagons going that way?”
“Perhaps,” replied Mr. Bobbsey. “I’ll find out, and I’ll send him as near to Mr. Hardee’s place as I can.”
“Poor little fellow,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and she thought how hard it would be if her son Bert had to go to work for his living so young.
“He seems like a nice boy,” spoke Mr. Bobbsey, “and from what I know of Mr. Hardee he isn’t an easy man to work for. Well, have you seen enough of the boat, Nan? Do you think you’ll like it?”
“Oh, I just love it,” Nan answered. “I’m so anxious for the time to come when we can go sailing, or whatever you do in a boat like this. Mamma, may I bring some of my things from home to fix up my room?”
“I think so—yes. We shall have to talk about that later. I think it is time we started home now. Dinah will not want to wait supper for us.”
“Well then, run along,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “I’ll get the others up from down below.”
“And you won’t forget about trying to give that boy a ride home?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No, indeed,” replied her husband. “I’m going right back to the office now, and I’ll take him with me. I’ll let him ride on the wagon that’s going nearest to Lemby.”
Mr. Bobbsey met Bert and the strange boy coming up.
“It sure is a dandy boat!” said Will Watson with a sigh of envy. “If ever I go away to sea, I hope I’ll have as nice a room as yours,” and he looked at Bert. “I just couldn’t help coming on the boat when I saw her tied here,” he went on. “I hope you didn’t mind.”
“Not a bit!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, wishing she had some of Dinah’s cake or crullers with her to give to the boy, for the twins’ mother thought he looked hungry.
The door, leading into the cabin of the houseboat was locked, and they all went on shore, over the gangplank, the board that extended from the dock to the boat.
“Good-bye, Bluebird!” called Flossie, waving her fat, chubby, little hand toward the houseboat. “We’ll soon be back.”
“And I’m going to bring my fire engine, when I come again,” exclaimed Freddie. “If the boat gets on fire I can put it out.”
“Boats can’t get on fire in the water!” declared Flossie.
The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 59