A Little Country Girl

by Susan Coolidge

  CHAPTER VII.

  TWO PICNICS.

  IT was while Candace was still doing battle with her shyness, sometimesgetting the better of it and then again yielding and letting it get thebetter of her, that Georgie and Gertrude sent out invitations to anotherluncheon party of girls. It was the third they had given since coming toNewport. Mrs. Gray certainly did a great deal for the pleasure of herdaughters, although Berenice Joy did consider her so "strict."

  Candace had her share in this entertainment, as one of the three youngladies of the house. The party was mainly composed of the "EarlyDippers," who were not as formidable to her imagination as entirestrangers would have been. She and Georgie and Gertrude wore theirwhite woollen dresses, which were almost exactly alike, and "looked liketriplets," as Marian rather spitefully observed. Marian herself was notasked to the party, and was out of humor in consequence. Her crossnessdid not extend to Candace, however. She evinced this by coming in justas Candace had finished dressing, with a long-stemmed pink rose in herhand, which she pinned on the shoulder of the white gown, just underCandace's cheek.

  "That looks sweet," remarked Marian. "I am really quite pleased at yourappearance; you're every bit as pretty as Gertrude, and heaps betterlooking than that old Georgie, who wouldn't let me come to her party.Now, take my advice: hold your head up, and don't let any of the girlsbully you. If Berry Joy tries it, sit down hard on her."

  "I don't know how to sit down hard," laughed Candace; but she kissedMarian for the sweet rose, and went downstairs feeling quite brave.Marian watched her over the balusters; made a face at Berry Joy, whowas just sailing into the drawing-room; shook her dimpled fist atGeorgie's back, visible through the open door; and then went to sit withher mother, who also was "not invited."

  There is no prettier entertainment than a lunch-party of girls. Theflowers, the confections, all the graceful little fripperies of thefeast, seem to suit with the bright young faces, to whom daylight is abecoming and not a dangerous test. Frederic had taken great pains inornamenting the table for his young ladies. There was a nosegay for eachguest, and no two nosegays were alike. One was made up of roses anddaisies, another of roses and heliotrope, another of roses and violets;and each was tied with a satin ribbon of corresponding color, which hadthe name of the girl for whom it was intended, and the date, painted ingold letters on the ends. In the middle of the table stood a largesquare pan of glass, in which floated a mass of waterlilies, pink andwhite; and winding in and out among the little dishes of crystallizedfruits, eclairs, apricots, and hot-house grapes, was a continuouscurving wreath of pansies of every color. It appeared to lie directly onthe white tablecloth; but the stems of the flowers were really set inshallow semi-circles of tin, not over half an inch high, which werefilled with wet sand.

  For the more substantial part of the meal appeared a succession ofappetizing little dishes, hot and perfectly served; and the wind-up ofthe whole was, of course, unlimited ice-cream and water-ices, thosenational delicacies dear equally to the heart of every American girl thecountry over, whether she consumes her saucer-full in uppermost Maine orsouthernmost Florida.

  Luncheon over, the party went out to the piazza, where coffee wasserved; and then Berry Joy began to tell of a picnic at Southwick'sgrove which she had attended the day before. None of the other girlshad, as it happened, been present; so she had the field of narrative toherself.

  "It was perfectly splendid," she said. "There were five coaches withfour ladies and a lot of men in each, and ever so many other carriages.We made a sort of procession down the Island. I went in Lawrence Jones'scoach, with Sue Tucker and Maude and Mrs. Freddy. You should have seenthe country people rush out to look at us when all the horns blew atonce. I tell you it was exciting."

  "And what did you do after you got to the grove?"

  "Oh, we had the most wonderful spread that ever was seen. You know,everybody takes a dish and a bottle of wine to these picnics; and thereis always a great competition as to who shall bring the best things. Inever saw such a luncheon in my life; everything was perfectlydelicious."

  "But what did you _do_?"

  "Do? Why, we didn't do anything but that. There was no time for anythingelse. It took ever so long to get lunch ready. Some of the things had tobe cooked after we got there, you know, and the coffee and themayonnaise made. The servants lit fires and fussed about, and the restof us sat round and talked a little; but I was so ravenous that Icouldn't think of anything but lunch, and I rather think the others werein the same condition. Then, as soon as we had done, it was time tostart for home."

  "What do you think that horrid Mr. Deane said?" she continued, after ashort pause. "You know, he's always trying to be satirical. Some one wassaying something about the grove's being such a nice place for picnics,and Mr. Deane interrupted, in that disagreeable dry way of his whichsome people call funny: 'Well, yes, perhaps so; but in my opinion theproper place for a picnic of this kind is--a gorge!'"

  There was a universal giggle.

  "How did he dare?" observed Julia Prime.

  "Oh, he dares to say just what he likes. He doesn't mind anybody. But Iknow one thing, and that is that Gorham Allerton didn't like it a bit.He looked absolutely black, and I saw him talking to Mrs. JacksonTainter about it afterward; and I'll wager something handsome that oldDeane will find himself left out of the next picnic. I'm sure, if hedoes, it will only serve him right for being so rude."

  "I don't believe he'll mind it if he isn't invited," remarked Gertrude."He dined with papa last night; and I heard him say that it was thedullest affair he ever was at in his life, and only fit for the'companions of Ulysses.'"

  "What _did_ he mean?"

  "I don't know. Something about General Grant, I suppose.--Candace, what_are_ you laughing at?"

  "Oh, nothing," said Cannie, composing her face as well as she could. Alittle old translation of the Odyssey had been among the books in theNorth Tolland library, and she was more "up" in the "companions ofUlysses" than the rest of the party.

  "How different picnics now-a-days are from those which we used to havein Newport when I was a girl," remarked Mrs. Gray from the drawing-roomwindow, where she had been standing unperceived for a moment or two.

  "Oh, Mrs. Gray, are you there?" and the girls hastened to the window.Some of them kissed her; and all, except perhaps Berry Joy, looked gladto see her, for she was a general favorite with her daughters' friends.

  "Tell us about the picnics you used to have when you were young," saidJulia Prime, balancing herself on the window-sill and keeping fast holdof Mrs. Gray's hand.

  "There is not much to tell, Julia. They would seem tame affairs enoughto you modern young people, I suppose. We hadn't any men with us as ageneral thing, except an occasional brother or cousin, and we didn'tcarry half as much to eat as seems to be considered necessarynow-a-days. Then we did all the work ourselves instead of taking cooksand footmen to do it for us; but for all that, we thought them mostdelightful. For one thing, we always went to some really interestingplace, such as the Glen, or the Dumpling Rocks, or the ParadiseValleys."

  "Where are the Paradise Valleys?" inquired Julia.

  "Oh, I know what they are," said Maud Hallett. "They are lovely placeshidden in behind Bishop Berkeley's Rock. I went there once with AuntEdith. She knows all the nooks and corners of Newport better thananybody else."

  "Mamma, you must take us there some day," said Georgie.

  "Oh, do, and let me go with you," pleaded Maud. "I should like so muchto see them again."

  "Won't you take me too?" said Belle Jeffrys.

  "We should all like to go," remarked Julia, slyly. "Oh, Mrs. Gray, dear,I have such a lovely idea! Give us a picnic yourself, one of the niceold-fashioned sort that you used to have when you were young, in theParadise Valley; won't you, dear Mrs. Gray? Oh, do!"

  "You needn't coax so hard, Julia; I'm very easy to persuade when I liketo do a thing," said Mrs. Gray, with a laugh. "I'll give you a picnicwith pleasure; only I must make one stipulation,
that it shall beexclusively a girl-party. I don't think the young men of the present daywould enjoy the kind of thing I mean, or know what to make of it."

  "Girls!" cried Julia, "just listen to what this dear angel says! She'sgoing to take us to Paradise Valley, all by ourselves, with no men tobother and distract our attention.--Men _are_ out of place in Paradiseanyway; just think how Adam behaved! (this in a parenthesis).--It is tobe a real old-fashioned "goloptious" picnic. Now, who would like to gobesides myself?"

  "I, I, I," cried the girls, with gratifying unanimity.

  "Now, what day shall it be?" continued Julia. "Let's make Mrs. Graysettle the time at once, and then she can't back out."

  "I don't want to back out," said Mrs. Gray. "I enjoy the idea as much asyou do."

  So, after some comparing of engagements, the next Thursday was fixedupon.

  "You had better make this the rendezvous," said the giver of the picnic."I shall have room for one girl in my wagonette besides my four. Youmust all wear something stout, which won't spoil with scrambling overrocks, and you need not bring any luncheon-baskets. I will see to allthat. This is to be an old-fashioned picnic, you know, and I shallprovide exactly the sort of things that we used to take

  'When I was young and charming, many years ago.'"

  "You are just as charming as you can be now," declared Belle,enthusiastically.

  "I do hope there won't be a fog," said Julia Prime, as she walked up theAvenue with the others.

  "I sha'n't care if there is," replied Berry. "I must say it sounds to melike a very stupid plan,--no men, and nothing in particular to eat. It'sjust like Mrs. Gray. Her ideas are so queer, as mamma says."

  "I wonder you go if you feel that way about it," retorted Julia.

  "I dare say I sha'n't. I have a strong presentiment that on thatparticular day I shall have a headache."

  And Berry did,--a "distracting" headache, as she wrote Georgieover-night. She was the only member of the Early Dip Club who missed thepicnic. Headaches are sad but convenient things.

  Eleven o'clock brought the girls to the Grays' front door, all ready fortheir start, in various village carts and victorias. There was a littlere-distribution: Georgie and Gertrude fitted in with some of theircronies, and Mrs. Gray took three girls besides Marian and Candace inher wagonette. Frederic and the coachman stowed many small baskets and aheap of wraps into the different rumbles and box seats, and they setforth under the bluest of blue skies. It was a beautiful day, just warmenough and not too warm; for a fragrant wind was blowing softly in fromthe sea.

  They had passed the first beach, which at that hour was black withbathers and by-standers, and had climbed the hill-slope which separatesit from the second beach, when Marian suddenly cried, "Mamma, here weare close to Purgatory; can't we stop just a minute and show it toCandace?"

  Mrs. Gray looked at her watch.

  "Your minute will be at least a quarter of an hour, Marian," she said;"but I think there is time enough. Would any of the rest of you like togo?"

  Girls always "want to go." There was a general disembarkation; and Mrs.Gray led the way through a gate and across a rough field which stretchedalong the top of a line of cliffs, steeper and bolder than those on theNewport Point, and cut here and there into sudden sharp fissures.

  The scanty grass, yellow with August sun, was broken everywhere by lumpsand boulders of that odd conglomerate which is known by the name of"plum-pudding stone." Golden-rod and the early blue aster were floweringeverywhere. A flock of sheep fled at their approach, with a low rushingsound like the wind in boughs.

  PURGATORY.

  The name of "Purgatory" seemed to her to suggest some terrible sort ofplace.--PAGE 188.]

  Candace walked along with the rest, in a little shiver of expectancy.The name of "Purgatory" seemed to her to suggest some terrible sort ofplace. Presently she saw the girls ahead, as they reached a particularpoint, diverge sharply to the right with little cries and exclamations;and when she advanced, she found herself on the edge of a chasm deeperand darker than any of those which they had passed. It cut the clifffrom its highest point to the sea-level; and the wall-like sides recededtoward their base, leaving vaulted hollows beneath, into which the eyecould not penetrate. Only the ear caught the sound of thunderous murmursand strange gurgles and hisses of spray echoing from unseen recesses farunderground; and it was easy to imagine that these sounds came from someimprisoned sea-creature, hemmed in by the tide, with no chance ofescape, and vexing the air with its groans.

  Candace shrank away from the brink with a sensation of affright. "Whatan awful place!" she said, drawing a long breath. "Do you suppose anyone ever fell down there?"

  Every member of the party had some tradition of the sort to relate; butnone of the stories seemed to rest on a very secure foundation.

  "Anybody who did must be killed, I should think. I don't wonder theynamed it Purgatory," said Marian.

  There was a fascination of horror about the spot. The girls lingered andleaned over the brink and turned back, until Mrs. Gray had to call themaway; and they were all rather silent as they walked across the field totheir carriages. But the impression was soon dispelled; for as theydrove down the incline toward the second beach, they came upon anunexpected scene of brilliant and animated life.

  The tide and the wind together were bringing ashore quantities ofseaweed of the kind used in manuring fields, and all the farmers of theneighborhood had assembled to secure this heaven-planted harvest. Thelong curves of yellow sands which stretch from the Purgatory rocks toSacluest Point were alive with people. Teams of mild mouse-colored orwhite oxen stood harnessed to heavy wagons, ready to drag the seaweedhome. Out in the plunging surf men were urging horses seaward, orswimming them toward the shore, with long rake-like implements in theirwake, which gathered and bore along masses of the glittering brown androsy kelp. The splash and foam of the waves, the rearing horses, thecries of the men and of the seagulls, who seemed to resent thisintrusion upon their haunts, made a vivid and fascinating picture, whichseemed in keeping with the beauty of sea and sky and the freshness ofthe sun-warmed wind.

  Then, passing the beach, the carriages drove along a smooth country roadfor a short distance, and turned into a narrow lane running up hill,which presently brought them to a small farm-house built on the veryedge of a ravine.

  "Here we take to our feet," said Mrs. Gray, jumping out of thewagonette.

  The farmer and his wife, who seemed to be old acquaintances, came out tospeak to her. The baskets were collected, and the carriages sent back totown, with orders to return to the same place at six o'clock.

  "Oh, why six? why not stay and go home by moonlight?" urged Julia.

  "My dear child, if you were in the habit of reading either the almanacor the heavens, you would know that there will be no moon to-night tillafter eleven o'clock," said her chaperone. "These roads will be as blackas pitch by half-past seven. Now, girls, each of you take your own shawland one of the baskets, and we will _descend_ into Paradise. It soundsparadoxical, but you shall see."

  She led the way down a steep narrow pathway on the hill-side into thevalley below. The path was overhung with trees. It was necessary to putthe boughs aside here and there; brambles reached from the thicket tocatch at the girls' skirts as they went by; but when they had passedthese trifling obstacles they found themselves safely on the levelfloor of a little valley below.

  Such a choice little valley! It was enclosed between the line of hillfrom which they had just descended and another parallel line, whose topwas of solid granite and whose base was walled by trees. This doublebarrier kept off all cold winds, and let the sunshine in from east towest to flood and foster the valley growths. To the east the eye sawonly the winding of the leafy glade; the west stood open to the sea, andgave a wide vista of glittering ocean and yellow surf-fringed beach.

  The ground was carpeted with the softest grass. Thickets of wild rosesshowed here and there a late blossom, and other thickets of aldersglittered with
coral-red berries. Apple-trees loaded with small crimsonapples made spots of color on the hill-side. Wild-flowers grew thicklyin damp spots, and mosses clustered among the stones. Birds chirped andflew from every bush and tree. All was shaded and peaceful and still.Newport, with its whirl and glitter, seemed immeasurably far away. TheParadise Valley might to all appearance have been hidden in the heart ofthe Alleghanies, instead of being within three miles of the gayestwatering-place in America!

  Mrs. Gray, with accustomed feet, led the way straight across the gladeto where an old cedar-tree stood commanding the oceanward view, with asquare block of stone at its foot.

  "This is where we used always to come," she said, in a dreamy voice.

  "What a delicious place!" cried Julia; "to think that I should havespent seven summers in Newport and never have seen it before! What shallwe do with the baskets, Mrs. Gray, dear?"

  "Put them here in the shade, and when you all feel hungry we will openthem."

  "Hungry! why, I am as hungry as a wolf at this moment. I have a gift atbeing ravenous. Girls, what do you say? Don't you agree with me that notime is like the present time for lunch? Hold up your hands if you do."

  "Very well," said Mrs. Gray, laughing, as every hand flew up. "We willhave lunch at once, then; but I warn you that there is a good deal to bedone first. There," pointing to a blackened spot against a rock, "iswhere we always boiled our kettle. If some of you will collect some drysticks, we will see if the present generation is capable of making afire. I meanwhile will fetch the water."

  She took a bright little copper kettle from one of the baskets, andmounted the hill with elastic footsteps, calling out, as she went,--

  "Make haste, and be sure that the sticks are dry."

  "I'm not sure that I know a dry stick when I see it," whispered MaudHallett to Julia; but instinct, as often happens, took the place ofexperience on this occasion, and Mrs. Gray found quite a respectablepile of fuel awaiting her when she came back with her kettle full ofspring water.

  "Now I will show you how to swing a pot over the fire," she said; and inthree minutes a rustic crane of boughs was constructed, the kettle washanging from it, and the wood piled artistically underneath. A box ofmatches appeared from Mrs. Gray's pocket, which; as Marian said, wasevery bit as good as the "Bag" of the Mother in the "Swiss FamilyRobinson," and seemed to hold almost as great a variety of usefulthings. Presently a gay little fire was crackling and snapping againstthe face of the rock, and adding its smoke to the blackened stains leftby those other smokes of long ago. The girls stood about, watching theblaze and listening for the first hiss of the kettle; but Mrs. Grayinformed them that there was still work to be done.

  "I want some new potatoes to roast, for one thing," she said. "Maud andGeorgie, you might run up to the farm and ask Mr. Bacon to send me afew, say eighteen or twenty large ones,--oh, and a couple of dozen fresheggs."

  While they were absent on this errand, the other girls, under Mrs.Gray's direction, unpacked the baskets and arranged their contents onthe rock beneath the cedar-tree. Mrs. Gray had taken pains to provide,as far as was possible, the same sort of food which twenty-odd yearsbefore it had been customary to take to picnics. Out of one basket camea snow-white table-cloth and napkins; out of another, a chafing-dish, aloaf of home-made brown bread, and a couple of pats of deliciousDarlington butter. A third basket revealed a large loaf of "ElectionCake," with a thick sugary frosting; a fourth was full of crisp littlejumbles, made after an old family recipe and warranted to melt in themouth. There was a pile of thin, beautifully cut sandwiches; plenty oflight-buttered rolls; and a cold fowl, ready carved into portions. Bythe time that these provisions were unpacked, Maud and Georgie were seendescending the hill at a rapid walk, which, at sight of the festivepreparations below, changed to what Julia Prime called "a hungrygallop." By this time exercise and fresh air had made everybody sodesperately hungry that it seemed impossible to wait another moment; so,while Mrs. Gray heated the coffee and dropped the large pink potatoesinto their bed of embers to roast, the younger members of the party fellto work on the sandwiches, just to take off the fine edge of theirappetites till something better was ready.

  When the coffee was hot, Mrs. Gray seated herself by the rock, lit thelamp under her chafing-dish, dropped in a bit of butter, sprinkled withpepper and salt, and proceeded to "scramble" a great dish of eggs. Didany of you ever eat hot scrambled eggs under a tree when you werefuriously hungry? If not, you can form no idea of the pleasure which the"Early Dippers" took in theirs. But it was not the eggs only; it waseverything: never was a luncheon so delicious, the girls protested. Newpotatoes roasted in the ashes were a feast for the gods; and as for thegrandmother's cake with which the repast wound up, it baffled analysisand description.

  Mrs. Gray had made this cake with her own hands, "in order to carry outthe historic verities," as she said. It used to be part of the religionof New England, especially of Connecticut, she explained; and she toldthem how once, when she was a girl, making a visit to an old aunt inWethersfield, she had sat up nearly all night over a "raising" ofElection cake.

  "But why did you do that?" asked the girls.

  "Well, you see, my aunt had a sudden attack of rheumatism in her arm.She was going to have the sewing-society meet at her house; and such athing as a sewing-society without Election cake was not to be dreamedof. So I offered to make it; and I was bound that it should be good. Thepeculiarity of this particular cake is that it must rise twice before itis baked. You mix half the butter and sugar, and so on, with the yeast;and when that is light, you put in the other half. Now, my first halfrefused to rise."

  "What did you do?"

  "Oh, I sat beside it with one of Scott's novels, and I waited. It wasrather poky; for my aunt and her servant had gone to bed, and there werequeer creaks and noises now and then, as there always are in old houses.Midnight struck, and one, and two, before the first bubbles appeared onthe surface of the cake; and I had fallen asleep over my book more thanonce, before I could be quite sure that it was safe to stir in theremainder of the spice and fruit, and go to bed. It was just fouro'clock when I finally put out my lamp; and very sleepy I was next day,as you may imagine: but the cake turned out a great success, and I hadmany compliments about it from the crack housekeepers in theneighborhood, when they found that it was of my making."

  "Wasn't it a dreadful trouble to have to make cake and things like thatat home?" asked Maud Hallett. "I think I would rather have had it notquite so good, and got it from the confectioner's, than to have all thatfuss and bother."

  "My dear, there _were_ no confectioners in those days except in two orthree of the largest cities, and none even then who would be thoughtworth speaking of in our time. It was a case of home-made cake or none;and though it was certainly a great deal of trouble, the cake was betterthan any confectioner's cake that I ever tasted. People took great pridein it; and recipes were copied and handed about and talked over with aninterest which would be impossible now-a-days, when everything comes tohand ready made, and you can order a loaf of sponge cake by postal card,and have it appear in a few hours, sent by express from central NewYork, as some of us have been doing this summer."

  The last crumb of the Grandmother's loaf had now disappeared, and Mrs.Gray proposed that the girls should go for a scramble on the hills whileshe repacked the baskets. But this division of labor was not permitted.The girls insisted that they must be allowed to stay and help, and thatthe scramble would be no fun at all without their matron. Julia seizedthe coffee-pot and chafing-dish, and ran up the hill to rinse them atthe spring; the others collected forks and plates; and, many handsmaking light work, in a very short while all was in order, and Mrs. Grayin readiness to head the walking party.

  She guided them to the top of the granite ridge which is visible fromNewport, and made them observe the peculiarity of the rock lines, andthe contrast between their bareness and the fertility of the littleintervening glades, for which they serve as a natural conservatory. Thenthey dipped dow
n into the thickets of the farther side, finding allmanner of ferns and wild-flowers and shy growing things, and so to thesandy flats above the third beach, with their outlook across theriver-like strait to Little Compton and up the curving shore of NewportIsland, set with old farm-houses and solemn orchards of gnarledapple-trees. From thence a short walk brought them to the end of theridge and to Bishop Berkeley's seat, with its ponderous projecting roofof rocks; and they all sat down to rest just where he is said to havesat with his books and pen, looking off toward far Bermuda, and dreamingof the "star of empire." At that time no ugly brick chimneys orartificial water-basin existed to mar the foreground; and nothingsweeter or more peaceful could be imagined than the view from the rockyshelf,--the breadth of ocean lit with clear sun, the shining capes toright and left, the yellow sand-dunes and winding creek bordered withbrown grasses and patches of mallow or green rushes, and over all thearch of blue summer sky. One or two carriages rolled along the distantroad as they sat there; but otherwise; the stillness was unbroken saveby the twitter of birds in the woods behind them, the chirp ofsand-peeps or the scream of gulls on the beach, and the softintermittent boom of the surf.

  It had been a perfect afternoon, and a great success, all the picnickersvoted, as they parted in the dusk on the gravel-walk in front of Mrs.Gray's door. Yet, after all, there was much to be said for Newport andcivilization, and they were not sorry to come back to them. It was allvery well to play at being old-fashioned for a day; but modern timeshave their distinct charms and conveniences, and if the girls, on sobersecond-thought, preferred their own share of the centuries to any other,no one need count them blameworthy.