The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 13

  “My, how sweet it is!” said Dinah, as she sniffed audibly, enjoying the freshness of the country.

  Freddie was on the seat with Uncle Dan and had Snoop’s box safe in his arms. He wanted to let the cat see along the road, but everybody protested.

  “No more Snoop in this trip,” laughed Mr. Bobbsey. “He has had all the fun he needs for today.” So Freddie had to be content.

  “Oh, do let me get out?” pleaded Nan presently. “See that field of orange lilies.”

  “Not now, dear,” Aunt Sarah told her. “Dinner is spoiling for us, and we can often walk down here to get flowers.”

  “Oh, the cute little calf! Look!” Bert exclaimed from his seat next to Harry, who had been telling his cousin of all the plans he had made for a jolly vacation.

  “Look at the billy-goat!” called Freddie.

  “See, see, that big black chicken flying!” Flossie cried out excitedly.

  “That’s a hawk!” laughed Bert; “maybe it’s a chicken hawk.”

  “A children hawk!” Flossie exclaimed, missing the word. Then everybody laughed, and Flossie said maybe there were children hawks for bad girls and boys, anyway.

  Aunt Sarah and Mrs. Bobbsey were chatting away like two schoolgirls, while Dinah and the children saw something new and interesting at every few paces old Billy, the horse, took.

  “Hello there, neighbor,” called a voice from the field at the side of the road. “My horse has fallen in the ditch, and I’ll have to trouble you to help me.”

  “Certainly, certainly, Peter,” answered Uncle Daniel, promptly jumping down, with Mr. Bobbsey, Bert, and Harry following. Aunt Sarah leaned over the seat and took the reins, but when she saw in what ditch the other horse had fallen she pulled Billy into the gutter.

  “Poor Peter!” she exclaimed. “That’s the second horse that fell in that ditch this week. And it’s an awful job to get them out. I’ll just wait to see if they need our Billy, and if not, we can drive on home, for Martha will be most crazy waiting with dinner.”

  Uncle Daniel, Mr. Bobbsey, and the boys hurried to where Peter Burns stood at the brink of one of those ditches that look like mud and turn out to be water.

  “And that horse is a boarder too!” Peter told them. “Last night we said he looked awful sad, but we didn’t think he would commit suicide.”

  “Got plenty of blankets?” Uncle Daniel asked, pulling his coat off and preparing to help his neighbor, as all good people do in the country.

  “Four of them, and these planks. But I couldn’t get a man around. Lucky you happened by,” Peter Burns answered.

  All this time the horse in the ditch moaned as if in pain, but Peter said it was only because he couldn’t get on his feet. Harry, being light in weight, slipped a halter over the poor beast’s head.

  “I could get a strap around him!” Harry suggested, moving out cautiously on the plank.

  “All right, my lad, go ahead,” Peter told him, passing the big strap over to Bert, who in turn passed it on to Harry.

  It was no easy matter to get the strap in place, but with much tugging and splashing of mud Harry succeeded. Then the ropes were attached and everybody pulled vigorously.

  “Get up, Ginger! Get up, Ginger!” Peter called lustily, but Ginger only seemed to flop in deeper, through his efforts to raise himself.

  “Guess we’ll have to get Billy to pull,” Uncle Daniel suggested, and Mr. Bobbsey hurried back to the road to unhitch the other horse.

  “Don’t let Billy fall in!” exclaimed Nan, who was much excited over the accident.

  “Can’t I go, papa?” Freddie pleaded. “I’ll stay away from the edge!”

  “You better stay in the wagon; the horse might cut up when he gets out,” the father warned Freddie, who reluctantly gave in.

  Soon Billy was hitched to the ropes, and with a few kind words from Uncle Daniel the big white horse strained forward, pulling Ginger to his feet as he did so.

  “Hurrah!” shouted Freddie from the wagon. “Billy is a circus horse, isn’t he, Uncle Dan?”

  “He’s a good boy,” the uncle called back patting Billy affectionately, while Mr. Bobbsey and the boys loosened the straps. The other horse lay on the blankets, and Peter rubbed him with all his might, to save a chill as he told the boys.

  Then, after receiving many thanks for the help given, the Bobbseys once more started off toward the farm.

  “Hot work,” Uncle Daniel remarked to the ladies, as he mopped his forehead.

  “I’m so glad you could help Peter,” Aunt Sarah told him, “for he does seem to have so much trouble.”

  “All kinds of things happen in the country,” Harry remarked, as Billy headed off for home.

  At each house along the way boys would call out to Harry, asking him about going fishing, or berrying, or some other sport, so that Bert felt a good time was in store for him, as the boys were about his own age and seemed so agreeable.

  “Nice fellows,” Harry remarked by way of introducing Bert.

  “They seem so,” Bert replied, cordially.

  “We’ve made up a lot of sports,” Harry went on, “and we were only waiting for you to come to start out. We’ve planned a picnic for to-morrow.”

  “Here we are,” called Uncle Daniel as Billy turned into the pretty driveway in front of the Bobbseys’ country home. On each side of the drive grew straight lines of boxwood, and back of this hedge were beautiful flowers, shining out grandly now in the July sun.

  “Hello, Martha!” called the visitors, as the faithful old servant appeared on the broad white veranda. She was not black like Dinah, but looked as if she was just as merry and full of fun as anyone could be.

  “Got here at last!” she exclaimed, taking Dinah’s lunch basket.

  “Glad to see you, Martha,” Dinah told her. “You see, I had to come along. And Snoop too, our kitty. We fetched him.”

  “The more the merrier,” replied the other, “and there’s lots of room for all.”

  “Starved to death!” Harry laughed, as the odor of a fine dinner reached him.

  “We’ll wash up a bit and join you in a few minutes, ladies,” Uncle Daniel said, in his polite way. The horse accident had given plenty of need for a washing up.

  “Got Snoop dis time,” Freddie lisped, knocking the cover off the box and petting the frightened little black cat. “Hungry, Snoopy?” he asked, pressing his baby cheek to the soft fur.

  “Bring the poor kitty out to the kitchen,” Martha told him. “I’ll get him a nice saucer of fresh milk.” And so it happened, as usual, Snoop had his meal first, just as he had had on the Pullman car. Soon after this Martha went outside and rang a big dinner bell that all the men and boys could hear. And then the first vacation dinner was served in the long old-fashioned dining room.

  CHAPTER VX

  Frisky

  Although they were tired from their journey, the children had no idea of resting on that beautiful afternoon, so promptly after dinner the baggage was opened, and vacation clothes were put on. Bert, of course, was ready first; and soon he and Harry were running down the road to meet the other boys and perfect their plans for the picnic.

  Nan began her pleasures by exploring the flower gardens with Uncle Daniel.

  “I pride myself on those zinnias,” the uncle told Nan, “just see those yellows, and those pinks. Some are as big as dahlias, aren’t they?”

  “They are just beautiful, uncle,” Nan replied, in real admiration. “I have always loved zinnias. And they last so long?”

  “All summer. Then, what do you think of my sweet peas?”

  So they went from one flower bed to another, and Nan thought she had never before seen so many pretty plants together.

  Flossie and Freddie were out in the barnyard with Aunt Sarah.

  “Oh, auntie, what interesting little chickens!” Flossie exclaimed, pointing to a lot of pigeons that were eagerly eating corn with the chickens.

  “Those are Harry’s homer pigeons,” the aunt explaine
d. “Some day we must go off to the woods and let the birds fly home with a letter to Dinah and Martha.”

  “Oh, please do it now,” Freddie urged, always in a hurry for things.

  “We couldn’t today, dear,” Aunt Sarah told him. “Come, let me show you our new little calf.”

  “Let me ride her?” Freddie asked, as they reached the animal.

  “Calfs aren’t for riding, they’re for milk,” Flossie spoke up.

  “Yes, this one drinks plenty of milk,” Aunt Sarah said, while Frisky, the calf, rubbed her head kindly against Aunt Sarah’s skirts.

  “Then let me take her for a walk,” Freddie pleaded, much in love with the pretty creature.

  “And they don’t walk either,” Flossie persisted. “They mostly run.”

  “I could just hold the rope, couldn’t I, Aunt Sarah?”

  “If you keep away from the barnyard gate, and hold her very tight,” was the consent given finally, much to Freddie’s delight.

  “Nice Frisky,” he told the calf, petting her fondly. “Pretty calf, will you let Snoop play with you?” Frisky was sniffing suspiciously all the time, and Aunt Sarah had taken Flossie in the barn to see the chickens’ nests.

  “Come, Frisky, take a walk,” suggested Freddie, and quite obediently the little cow walked along. But suddenly Frisky spied the open gate and the lovely green grass outside.

  Without a moment’s warning the calf threw her hind legs up in the air, then bolted straight for the gate, dragging Freddie along after her.

  “Whoa, Frisky! whoa!” yelled Freddie, but the calf ran right along.

  “Hold tight, Freddie!” called Flossie, as she and Aunt Sarah appeared on the scene.

  “Whoa, whoa!” yelled the little boy constantly, but he might as well have called “Get app,” for Frisky was going so fast now that poor little Freddie’s hands were all but bleeding from the rough rope.

  “Look out, Freddie! Let go!” called Aunt Sarah as she saw Frisky heading for the apple tree.

  The next minute Frisky made a dash around the tree, once, then again, winding the rope as she went, and throwing Freddie out with force against the side of the terrace.

  “Oh,” Freddie moaned feebly.

  “Are you dead?” cried Flossie, running up with tears in her eyes.

  “Oh,” moaned the boy again, turning over with much trouble as Aunt Sarah lifted him.

  “Oh,” he murmured once more, “oh—catch—Frisky!”

  “Never mind her,” Aunt Sarah said, anxiously. “Are you hurt, dear!”

  “No—not—a bit. But look! There goes Frisky! Catch her!”

  “Your poor little hands!” Flossie almost cried, kissing the red blisters. “See, they’re cut!”

  “Firemen have to slide on ropes!” Freddie spoke up, recovering himself, “and I’m going to be a fireman. I was one that time, because I tried to save somebody and didn’t care if I got hurted!”

  “You are a brave little boy,” Aunt Sarah assured him. “You just sit here with sister while I try to get that naughty Frisky before she spoils the garden.”

  By this time the calf was almost lost to them, as she plunged in and out of the pretty hedges. Fortunately Bert and Harry just turned in the gate.

  “Runaway calf! Runaway calf!” called the boys. “Stop the runaway!” and instantly a half-dozen other boys appeared, and all started in pursuit.

  But Frisky knew how to run, besides she had the advantage of a good start, and now she just dashed along as if the affair was the biggest joke of her life.

  “The river! The river!” called the boys

  “She’ll jump in!” and indeed the pretty Meadow Brook, or river, that ran along some feet lower than the Bobbseys’ house, on the other side of the highway, was now dangerously near the runaway calf.

  There was a heavy thicket a few feet further up, and as the boys squeezed in and out of the bushes Frisky plunged into this piece of wood.

  “Oh, she’s gone now, sure!” called Harry “Listen!”

  Sure enough there was a splash!

  Frisky must be in the river!

  It took some time to reach the spot where the fall might have sounded from, and the boys made their way heavy-hearted, for all loved the pretty little Frisky.

  “There’s footprints!” Bert discovered emerging from the thick bush.

  “And they end here!” Harry finished, indicating the very brink of the river.

  “She’s gone!”

  “But how could she drown so quickly?” Bert asked.

  “Guess that’s the channel,” Tom Mason, one of the neighbors’ boys, answered.

  “Listen! Thought I heard something in the bushes!” Bert whispered.

  But no welcome sound came to tell that poor Frisky was hiding in the brushwood. With heavy hearts the boys turned away. They didn’t even feel like talking, somehow. They had counted on bringing the calf back in triumph.

  When Flossie and Freddie saw them coming back without Frisky they just had to cry and no one could stop them.

  “I tried to be a fireman!” blubbered Freddie. “I didn’t care if the rope hurted my hands either!”

  “If only I didn’t go in to see the chickens nests,” Flossie whimpered, “I could have helped Freddie!”

  “Never you mind, little ’uns,” Dinah told them. “Dinah go and fetch dat Frisky back to-morrer. See if she don’t. You jest don’t cry no more, but eat you supper and take a good sleep, ’cause we’re goin’ to have a picnic to-morrer you knows, doesn’t youse?”

  The others tried to comfort the little ones too, and Uncle Daniel said he knew where he could buy another calf just like Frisky, so after a little while Freddie felt better and even laughed when Martha made the white cat Fluffy and Snoop play ball in the big long kitchen.

  “I’m goin’ to pray Frisky will come back,” Nan told her little brother when she kissed him good-night, “and maybe the dear Lord will find her for you.”

  “Oh, yes, Nannie, do ask Him,” pleaded Freddie, “and tell Him—tell Him if He’ll do it this time, I’ll be so good I won’t never need to bother Him any more.”

  Freddie meant very well, but it sounded strange, and made Aunt Sarah say, “The Lord bless the little darling!” Then night came and an eventful day closed in on our dear little Bobbseys.

  “Seems as if something else ought to happen tonight,” Bert remarked to Harry as they prepared to retire. “This was such a full day, wasn’t it?”

  “It’s early yet,” Harry answered, “and it’s never late here until it’s time to get early again.”

  “Sounds so strange to hear—those—those—”

  “Crickets,” Harry told him, “and tree toads and katydids. Oh, there’s lots to listen to if you shouldn’t feel sleepy.”

  The house was now all quiet, and even the boys had ceased whispering. Suddenly there was a noise in the driveway!

  The next minute someone called out in the night!

  “Hello there! All asleep! Wake up, somebody!”

  Even Freddie did wake up and ran into his mother’s room.

  “Come down here, Mr. Bobbsey,” the voice continued.

  “Oh, is that you, Peter? I’ll be down directly,” called back Uncle Daniel, who very soon after appeared on the front porch.

  “Well, I declare!” Uncle Daniel exclaimed, loud enough for all the listeners at the windows to hear. “So you’ve got her? Well, I’m very glad indeed. Especially on the boys’ account.”

  “Yes,” spoke out Peter Burns, “I went in the barn a while ago with the lantern, and there wasn’t your calf asleep with mine as cozy as could be. I brought her over tonight for fear you might miss her and get to lookin’, otherwise I wouldn’t have disturbed you.”

  By this time the man from the barn was up and out too, and he took Frisky back to her own bed; but not until the little calf had been taken far out on the front lawn so that Freddie could see her from the window “to make sure.”

  “The Lord did bring her back,” Fredd
ie told his mamma as she kissed him good-night again and put him in his bed, happier this time than before. “And I promised to be awful good to pay Him for His trouble,” the sleepy boy murmured.

  Flossie had been asleep about two hours when she suddenly called to her mother.

  “What is it, my dear?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

  “Somebody is playing the piano,” answered the little girl. “Who is it?”

  “Nobody is playing. You must be dreaming,” answered the mother, and smiled to herself.

  “No, I am sure I heard the piano,” insisted Flossie.

  Mother and daughter listened, but could hear nothing.

  “You were surely dreaming,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Come, I will tuck you in again,” and she did so.

  But was Flossie dreaming? Let us wait and see.

  CHAPTER VII

  A Country Picnic

  When morning came everyone was astir early, for not only was a happy day promised, but there was Frisky, the runaway, to be looked over. Mr. Richard Bobbsey, Freddie’s father, left on an early train for Lakeport, and would not come back to Meadow Brook until Saturday afternoon.

  “Let me go out and see Frisky,” Freddie insisted, even before his breakfast had been served. “I want to be sure it’s her.”

  “Yes, that’s her,” Freddie admitted, “’cause there’s the rope that cut my hands when I was a real fireman!”

  But Frisky didn’t seem to care a bit about ropes or firemen, but just chewed and chewed like all cows do, as if there was nothing in this world to do but eat.

  “Come on, sonny,” called Dinah. “You can help me pick de radishes fo’ breakfast,” and presently our little boy, with the kind-hearted maid, was up in the garden looking for the best radishes of the early crop.

  “See, Freddie,” said Dinah. “De red ones show above de ground. And we must only pull de ones wid de big leaves, ’cause dey’re ripe.”

  Freddie bent down so close to find the radishes that a disturbed toad hopped right up at his nose.

  “Oh!” he cried, frightened. “Dinah, was that—a—a—a snake?”

  “Snake, chile; lan’ sakes alive! Dat was a poor little toady—more scare’ den you was,” and she pointed to the big dock leaf under which the hop-toad was now hiding.