CHAPTER XII
TIGE--PLAYING THEATER
NAN dearly loved the dogs with which she was well acquainted, but she was in great terror of strange animals, especially if they barked loudly and showed a disposition to bite.
"Bert! Bert! what shall we do?" she gasped as she clung to her twin brother's arm.
Bert hardly knew what to say, for he himself did not like a biting dog. He looked around for a stick or a stone, and espied the doorway to the cow-shed. It was open.
"Let us get into the shed," he said quickly. "Perhaps we can close the door and keep the dog out."
Into the shed sprang Nan and her twin brother after her. The dog was almost upon them when Bert banged the door in his face. At once the animal stopped short and began to bark more furiously than ever.
"Do you--you think he can get in at the window?" faltered Nan. She was so scared she could scarcely speak.
"I don't know, I'm sure. If you'll stand by the door, Nan, I'll try to guard the window."
Nan threw her form against the door and held it as hard as if a giant were outside trying to force it in. Bert felt around the empty shed and picked up the handle of a broken spade. With this in hand he stalked over to the one little window which was opposite the door.
"Are there any cows here?" asked Nan. It was so dark she could see next to nothing.
"No cows here, I guess," answered Bert. "This building is 'most ready to tumble down."
The dog outside was barking still. Once in a while he would stop to catch his breath and then he would continue as loudly as ever. He scratched at the door with his paw, which made Nan shiver from head to feet.
"He is trying to work his way in," she cried.
"If he does that, I'll hit him with this," answered her twin brother, and brandished the spade handle over his head. He watched the window closely and wondered what they had best do if the dog leaped straight through and attacked them in the dark.
The barking continued for over a quarter of an hour. To Nan and Bert it seemed hours and hours. Then came a call from a distance.
"Hi, Tige, what's the matter? Have you spotted a tramp in the shed?"
"Help! help!" called out Bert. "Call off your dog!"
"A tramp, sure enough," said the man who was coming toward the cow-shed.
"I am not a tramp," answered Bert. "And my sister isn't a tramp, either."
"What's that? You've got your sister with you? Open the door."
"Please, we are afraid of the dog," came from Nan. "He came after us and we ran into the shed for shelter."
"Oh, that's it!" The farmer gave a short laugh. "Well, you needn't be skeert! Tige won't hurt ye none."
"Are you sure of that?" put in Bert. "He seems to be very savage."
"I won't let him touch ye."
Thus assured Nan opened the door and followed Bert outside. At a word from the farmer Tige stopped barking and began to wag his tail.
"That dog wouldn't hurt nobody, 'ceptin' he was attacked, or if a person tried to git in my house," said Farmer Sandborn. "He's a very nice fellow, he is, and likes boys and gals fust-rate; don't ye, Tige?" And the dog wagged his tail harder than ever, as if he understood every word.
"I--I was so scared," said Nan.
"May I ask what you be a-doin' on the road all alone and in this snowstorm?"
"We are going home," answered Bert, and then explained how they had been ice-boating and what had happened on the lake.
"I do declare!" cried Farmer Sandborn. "So the boat up an' run away with ye, did she? Contrary critter, eh?" And he began to laugh. "Who be you?"
"I am Bert Bobbsey and this is my twin sister Nan."
"Oh, yes, I know now. You're one pair o' the Bobbsey twins, as they call 'em over to Lakeport. I've heard Sary speak o' ye. Sary's my wife." The farmer ran his hand through his thick beard. "You can't tramp home in this storm."
"Oh, we must get home," said Nan. "What will mamma say? She will think we are killed, or drowned, or something,--and she isn't over the scare she got when Freddie was lost."
"I'll take you hack to town in my sleigh," said Farmer Sandborn. "I was going to town for some groceries to-morrow morning, but I might just as well go now, while the roads are open. They'll be all closed up ag'in by daylight, if this storm keeps up.
He led the way down the road to his house and they were glad enough to follow. By Nan's side walked Tige and he licked her hand, just to show that he wanted to make friends with her.
"I guess you are a good dog after all," said she, patting his head. "But you did give me such a scare!"
Both of the twins were very cold and glad enough to warm themselves by the kitchen fire while the farmer hitched up his horse. The farmer's wife wished to give them supper, but this they declined.
"We'll get supper at home," said Nan. "But I thank you just the same."
"So do I," added her twin.
"Well, you young ones must be hungry--bein' out in the cold," declared the farmer's wife. "Maybe you'd like to have a cookie, anyway."
Nan was about to say "no," when she caught Bert's eye. He was nodding slightly. Truth to tell, the older Bobbsey boy was quite hungry even though he had had his dinner at noon.
"Well, I don't know--" began Nan.
"Sure, you'll have a cookie," said the woman. "Young ones allers likes my cookies. See here!"
She brought from a pantry a big stone jar. Taking off the cover, she showed about two dozen big cookies each liberally sprinkled with powdered sugar.
"I make 'em for my grandchildren," she explained. "I have five of 'em--three girls an' two boys. They're allers as hungry as bears, 'specially in cold weather. So I keep the cookies handy. Here, try this."
She handed a big cookie to Nan and an equally big one to Bert. The twins bit into them readily and found them fully as good as those turned out by Dinah.
"We are much obliged," said Bert.
"Indeed we are," added Nan. "And we'll he thankful to your husband for taking us home."
"Oh, it's nothin'," said the woman. "He'd have to go to town to-morrow if he didn't to-day. An' maybe travelin' is better to-day."
"Well, it won't be so good to-morrow, if it snows some more," said Bert.
"Land sakes alive, I do wish it would stop snowin'. I believe snow gives me rheumatism."
"That's too bad," said Nan, sympathetically.
"I'm sure I wouldn't want to get rheumatism," said Bert.
"Young folks don't git it often. That's a left-handed blessin' old folks git."
Soon Farmer Sandborn drove around to the door with his sleigh and in they piled, on the soft straw, with several robes to keep them warm. Then the horse set off on a brisk trot for town.
"It's a nice enough sleigh ride for anybody," declared Bert. And yet they did not enjoy it very much, for fear of what would happen to them when they got home.
"Where in the world have you been?" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey as she ran to the door to let them in. "We have been looking all over for you. Your papa was afraid you had been drowned in the lake."
An evening dinner was in waiting for them, and sitting down to satisfy their hunger, they told their story, to which all of the others listened with much interest.
"You can be thankful you weren't blown clear to the other end of the lake," said Mr. Bobbsey. "I think after this you had better leave ice-boating alone."
"I know I shall!" declared Nan.
"Oh, I'll be more careful, papa, after this," pleaded Bert. "You know I promised to go out again with Charley."
"Well then, don't go when the wind is strong," and Bert promised.
"I'm so glad the dog didn't bite you," said little Flossie. "He might have given you hy--hydropics."
"Flossie means hydrophobics," put in Freddie. "Ain't no hydropics, is there, Bert?"
"Oh, Freddie, you mean hydrophobia!" burst out Nan, with a laugh.
"No, I mean hydrophobics," insisted the little fellow. "That's what Dinah calls them anyway."
After the adventure on the ice boat matters ran smoothly with the Bobbsey twins for two weeks and more. There was a great deal of snow and as a consequence Freddie and Flossie stayed home from school most of the time. Nan and Bert also remained home two separate days, and during those days all of the children had great fun in the attic, where there was a large storeroom, filled with all sort of things.
"Let us play theater," said Nan, who had been to several exhibitions while at home and while visiting.
"All right," said Bert, falling in with the plan at once. "Let us play Rip Van Winkle. I can be Rip and you can be the loving wife, and Flossie and Freddie can be the children."
Across the storeroom a rope was placed and on this they hung a sliding curtain, made out of a discarded blanket. Then at one side they arranged chairs, and Nan and Flossie brought out their dolls to be the audience.
"They won't clap their hands very much," said Bert. "But then they won't make any disturbance either."
The performance was a great success. It was their own version of Rip Van Winkle, and Bert as old Rip did many funny things which caused Freddie and Flossie to roar with laughter. Nan as the loving wife recited a piece called "Doughnuts and Daisies," pretending to be working around the kitchen in the meantime. The climax was reached when Bert tried to imitate a thunderstorm in the mountains and pulled over a big trunk full of old clothes and some window screens standing in a corner. The show broke up in a hurry, and when Mrs. Bobbsey appeared on the scene, wanting to know what the noise meant, all the actors and the doll audience were out of sight.
But later, when mamma went below again, Bert and Nan sneaked back, and put both the trunk and the screens in their proper places.
CHAPTER XIII
NAN'S FIRST CAKE-BAKING
"LET'S!" cried Nan.
"Yes, let's!" echoed Flossie.
"I want to help too," put in Freddie. "Want to make a cake all by my own self."
"Freddie can make a little cake while we make a big one," said Bert.
It was on an afternoon just a week before Christmas and Mrs. Bobbsey had gone out to do some shopping. Dinah was also away, on a visit to some relatives, so the children had the house all to themselves.
It was Bert who spoke about cake-making first. Queer that a boy should think of it, wasn't it? But Bert was very fond of cake, and did quite some grumbling when none was to be had.
"It ought to be easy to make a nice big plain cake," said Bert. "I've seen Dinah do it lots of times. She just mixes up her milk and eggs and butter, and sifts in the flour, and there you are."
"Much you know about it!" declared Nan. "If it isn't just put together right, it will be as heavy as lead"
"We might take the recipe out of mamma's cook-book," went on Bert; and then the cry went up with which I have opened this chapter.
The twins were soon in the kitchen, which Dinah had left spotlessly clean and in perfect order.
"We mustn't make a muss," warned Nan. "If we do, Dinah will never forgive us."
"As if we couldn't clean it up again," said Bert loftily.
Over the kitchen table they spread some old newspapers, and then Nan brought forth the big bowl in which her mother or the cook usually mixed the cake batter.
"Bert, you get the milk and sugar," said Nan, and began to roll up her sleeves. "Flossie, you can get the butter."
She would have told Freddie to get something, too--just to start them all to work--but Freddie was out of sight.
He had gone into the pantry, where the flour barrel stood. He did not know that Nan intended to use the prepared flour, which was on the shelf. The door worked on a spring, so it closed behind him, shutting him out from the sight of the others.
Taking off the cover of the barrel, Freddie looked inside. The barrel was almost empty, only a few inches of flour remaining at the bottom. There was a flour scoop in the barrel, but he could reach neither this nor the flour itself.
"I'll have to stand on the bench," he said to himself and pulled the bench into position. Then he stood on it and bent down into the barrel as far as possible.
The others were working in the kitchen when they heard a strange thump and then a spluttering yell.
"It's Freddie," said Nan. "Bert, go and see what he is doing in the pantry."
Bert ran to the pantry door and pulled it open. A strange sight met his gaze. Out of the top of the barrel stuck Freddie's legs, with a cloud of flour dust rising around them. From the bottom of the barrel came a succession of coughs, sneezes, and yells for help.
"Freddie has fallen into the flour barrel!" he cried, and lost no time in catching his brother by the feet and pulling him out. It was hard work and in the midst of it the flour barrel fell over on its side, scattering the flour over the pantry and partly on the kitchen floor.
"Oh! oh! oh!" roared Freddie as soon as he could catch his breath. "Oh, my! oh, my!"
"Oh, Freddie, why did you go into the barrel?" exclaimed Nan, wiping off her hands and running to him. "Did you ever see such a sight before?"
Freddie was digging at the flour in his eyes. He was white from head to feet, and coughing and spluttering.
"Wait, I'll get the whisk-broom," said Bert, and ran for it.
"Brush off his hair first, and then I'll wipe his face," came from Nan.
"Here's the wash-rag," put in little Flossie, and catching it up, wringing wet, she began to wipe off Freddie's face before anybody could stop her.
"Flossie! Flossie! You mustn't do that!" said Bert. "Don't you see you are making paste of the flour?"
The wet flour speedily became a dough on Freddie's face and neck, and he yelled louder than ever. The wash-rag was put away, and regardless of her own clean clothes, Flossie started in to scrape the dough off, until both Nan and Bert made her stop.
"I'll dust him good first," said Bert, and began such a vigorous use of the whisk-broom that everybody began to sneeze.
"Oh, Bert, not so hard!" said Nan, and ran to open the back door. "Bring him here."
Poor Freddie had a lump of dough in his left ear and was trying in vain to get it out with one hand while rubbing his eyes with the other. Nan brushed his face with care, and even wiped off the end of his tongue, and got the lump out of his ear. In the meantime Flossie started to set the flour barrel up once more.
"Don't touch the barrel, Flossie!" called Bert. "You keep away, or you'll be as dirty as Freddie."
It was very hard work to get Freddie's clothes even half clean, and some of the flour refused to budge from his hair. By the time he was made half presentable once more the kitchen was in a mess from end to end.
"What were you doing near the flour barrel?" asked Nan.
"Going to get flour for the cake."
"But we don't want that kind of flour, Freddie. We want this," and she brought forth the package.
"Dinah uses this," answered the little boy.
"Yes, for bread. But we are not going to make bread. You had better sit down and watch Bert and me work, and you, Flossie, had better do the same."
"Ain't no chairs to sit down on," said Freddie, after a look around. "All full of flour."
"I declare, we forgot to dust the chairs," answered Nan. "Bert, will you clean them?"
Bert did so, and Freddie and Flossie sat down to watch the process of cake-making, being assured that they should have the first slices if the cake was a success.
Nan had watched cake-making many times, so she knew exactly how to go to work. Bert was a good helper, and soon the batter was ready for the oven. The fire had been started up, and now Nan put the batter in the cake tin.
The children waited impatiently while the cake was baking. Nan gave Freddie another cleaning, and Bert cleaned up the pantry and the kitchen floor. The flour had made a dreadful mess and the cleaning process was only half-successful.
"'Most time for that cake to be done, isn't it?" questioned Bert, after a quarter of an hour had passed.
"Not quite," answered Nan.
"
I don't want to wait all day," complained Freddie.
"Freddie, you keep still or you shan't have any."
At this threat the little boy grew very sober.
"Come on, we'll sing a song--then maybe the cake will be done," cried Bert, and started one of the school songs. Nan joined in and Bert began to dance around the kitchen with Freddie and Flossie.
"Now, I'm sure it must be done," said Flossie after the romping had come to an end.
"Just a few minutes more," said Nan.
Presently she opened the oven door and tried the cake by sticking a broom whisp into it. The flour was just a bit sticky and she left the cake in a little longer.
When it came out it certainly looked very nice. The top was a golden brown and had raised beautifully. The cake was about a foot in diameter and Nan was justly proud of it.
"Wish you had put raisins in it," said Freddie. "Raisins are beautiful."
"No, I like plain cake the best," said Bert.
"I like chocolate," came from Flossie.
"And I like layer cake, with currant jelly in between," said Nan. "But I didn't dare to open any jelly without asking mamma."
"Let us surprise her with the cake," said Bert.
"Want cake now," protested Freddie. "Don't want to wait 't all!"
But he was persuaded to wait, and the cake was hidden away in the dining-room closet until the hour for the evening meal.
When Dinah came home she noticed the mussed-up kitchen, but Nan begged of her to keep quiet.
"All right, honey," said the colored cook. "But I know youse been a-bakin'--I kin smell it in de air."
When they sat down to the evening meal all of the children produced the cake in great triumph.
"Oh, Nan, a real cake!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey. "How nice it looks!"
"We've got some real housekeepers around here," said Mr. Bobbsey. "I'll have to try that, sure."
When the cake was cut all ate liberally of it. They declared it just right and said it could not be better. Even Dinah was tickled.
"Couldn't do no better maself," she declared. "Bymeby Dinah will be cut out of a job--wid Miss Nan a-doin' ob de bakin'."
The Bobbsey Twins; or, Merry Days Indoors and Out / by Laura Lee Hope Page 6