 CHAPTER III. LIFE IN THE CANION. THE AIR APARENT LOSES HIMSELF. PART B. Philip and Belle came through the trees, and as they neared the camp, saw Aunt Truth sitting at the door of Tint Chatter, looking the very picture of comfort as she drew her darning needle in and out of an unseemly rent in one of Dickie's stockings. Marjorie and Polly came up just behind and dropped into her lap some beautiful branches of wild azalea. Did you have a pleasant walk, dears? She asked. Yes indeed, dear Auntie. Now just hold your head perfectly still while we decorate you for dinner. We will make Uncle Doc's eyes fairly pop with admiration. Have you been lonely without us? Oh, not a bit. You see, there's been a good deal of noise about here and I feel as if I were not alone. Papillette has been pounding soap-rod in the kitchen, and I hear the sound of Poncho's axe in the distance. The doctor asked him to chop wood for the campfire. Was Dickie any trouble? Where is he? Why, darling mother, are you crazy? asked Belle. If you think a moment, he was in the hammock and you were laying down in a tent when we started. Why, I certainly thought I heard him ask to go with you. Said Mrs. Winship in rather an alarmed tone. So he did, but I told him it was too far. Oh, I didn't hear that. In fact, I was half asleep. I was not feeling well. Ask Papillette. He has been in the kitchen all the afternoon. Papillette replied with discouraging tranquillity. Oh, I know, no. I know, said Dickie. He only time long, long camp. I know, look, too much he work. I chop hash. Dickie come in kitchen, make he work. No good. I tell him go long. He go. Bye, bye, you catcher. You see. Whereupon he gracefully skinned an onion and burst into a Chinese song with complete indifference as to whether Dickie lived or died. Perhaps he is with Poncho. I'll run and see. Cried Polly, dashing swiftly in the direction of the sky parlor, but after a few minutes she ran back with a serious face. He's not there. Poncho has not seen him since lunch. Well, I've just happened to think. Said Pale and Truth. The Papa came into the tent for some cartridges after you left, and of course he took Dick with him. I don't suppose it is any use to worry. He always does come out all right, and I have told him so many times, never on any account, to go away from the camp alone, that he surely would not do it. Papa and the boys will be home soon now. It is nearly six o'clock, and I told them that I would blow the horn at six as usual. If they are too far away to hear it, they will know the time by the sun. Well, said Belle anxiously, I hope it is all right. Papa is so strict that he won't be late himself. Did all the boys go with him, Mama? Yes, all but Philip. Oh, then Dickie must be with them, said Marjorie consolingly. Jeffrey always takes him wherever he can. So the girls went into the tent to begin their dinner toilet, which consisted in carefully brushing burrs and dust from their pretty dresses, and donning fresh collars and stockings with low ties of russet leather, which Polly declared belonged only to the stage conception of a camping costume. Then, with smoothly brushed hair and bride-flower knots at collar and belt, they looked charming enough to grace any drawing room in the land. The horn was blown again at six o'clock, and truth standing at the entrance of the path which led up the canyon, shading her anxious eyes from the light of the setting sun. Here they come. She cried joyously as the welcome party appeared in sight, guns over shoulder, full game bags, and Jack and Jeff with a few rabbits and quail hanging over their arms. The girls rushed out of the tent, felt again the whole group with one swift glance, and then turned to her mother, who like most mothers believed the worst at once, and grew paler as she asked. Papa, where is little Dick? Dick? Why, my dear, he has not been out with us. What do you mean? Are you sure you didn't take him? Falter danced truth. Of course I am. Good heavens! Doesn't anyone know where the child is? Looking at the frightened group. You know, uncle? Said Jeffrey. We started out at three o'clock. I noticed Dicky playing with his blocks in our tent, and he said goodbye to him. Did you see him when you came back for the cartridges? Certainly I did. He called me to look at his dog, making him believe to go to sleep in the hammock. We girls went down to the pool soon after that. Said Belle tearfully. He asked to go with us, and I told him it was too far, and that he'd better stay with Mama, who would be all alone. He said yes so sweetly I couldn't mistrust him. Oh, was it my fault, Papa? He's don't say it was. And she burst into a passion of sobs. No, no, my child, of course it was not. Oh, don't cry. We shall find him. Go and look about the camp, Jeff, while we consider for a minute what to do. If there's any fault it is mine for going to sleep. Said poor Aunt Truth. But I never dreamed he would dare to wander off alone. My poor little disobedient darling, what shall we do? Have you spoken to Poncho and Hop yet? Asked Bill. Yes, they've seen nothing. Hop yet just at this moment issued from his kitchen with an immense platter of mutton stew and dumplings which he deposited on the table. On being questioned again he answered as before with the greatest serenity, intimating that Dicky would come home. He had fun by. When he got. Plenty humbly. He seemed to think a lost boy or two in a family rather a trifle than otherwise and wound up his unfeeling remarks with the practical one. Dinner already. You know eat mutton, he get cold. Mr. Wins, I know find Peco you catch him. I don't believe he would care if we all died right before his eyes. I should just like to see a Chinaman's heart once and find out whether it was made of resin or cuttlefish or what. Muddered Polly angrily. Well. Said Phil as Dr. Winship came through the trees from the card room. We must start out this instant. And of course we can find him somehow, somewhere. He hasn't been gone over two hours and he couldn't walk far that certain. Now, Uncle Doc, shall we all go different ways and leave the girls here to see if he doesn't turn up? Well, Barbara, cried Belle. Do not leave us at home. We can hunt as well as anyone. We know every foot of the canyon. Let me go with Jeff and we'll follow the brook trail. Very well. Now, Mama, Poncho and I will go down to the main road and you wait patiently here. Make all the noise you can, children. And the one who finds him must come back to the camp and blow the horn. Up yet, we go now. If Dickie comes back, you blow the horn yourself, will you? All right, boss. You eat some dinner now. Then go buy and buy. Mutton heap cold, you... Dinner! shouted Jack. Confound your impudence. If you say dinner again, I'll cut the queue off your stupid head. Good. murmured Polly, giving a savage punch to her blue tamo shantor cap. Jack! Jack! remonstrated Aunt Truth. I know, dear Auntie, but the castle he then makes me so mad I can't contain myself. Come, Margie, let's be off. Get your shawl and hurrah for the one who comes back to blow the horn first. I'll wager you tend to want to have Dick and Auntie's lap inside the hour. At which Aunt Truth's eyes brightened and she began to take heart again, but as he tore past the brush kitchen and out into the woods, dragging Madge after him at a breathless pace, he shut his lips together, rather grimly, saying, I'd give five hundred dollars, supposing I had a cent, to see that youngster safe again. Tell me one thing, Jack. said Margery, her teeth chattering with nervousness. Are there any animals in this canyon that would attack him? Oh, of course it is possible that a California lion or a wildcat might come down to the brook to drink. They have been killed hereabouts, but I hardly believe it is likely, and neither do I believe they would be apt to hurt him anyway, or he would never attack them, you know. What I am afraid of is that he has tumbled over the rock somewhere in climbing or tangled himself up in the shepherd hall. He couldn't have made off with the pistol, could he? He is up to all such tricks. Presently the canyon began to echo with strange sounds, which I have no doubt since the owls, birds, and rabbits into fits of terror, for the boys had whistles and pistols, while Polly had taken a tin pan and a hammer. She had gone with Phil out behind the thicket of Manzanita bushes, and they both stood motionless, undecided where to go. Oh, Phil, I can't help it. I must cry, I'm so frightened. Let me sit down a second. Yes, I know it's an anthill, and I shouldn't care if it were a hornet's nest. I deserve to be stung. What do you think I said to Marjorie this morning? The Dickie was a perfect little marplot and spoiled all our fun, and I wished he were in the bottom of the Red Sea, and then I called him up. K-k-killjoy! And Polly buried her head in her blue tam, and cried a good, honest, old-fashioned cry. There, jerk up, poor little soul, and don't you fret over a careless speech that meant nothing at all. I've wished him in the Red Sea more than once, but I'm blessed if I ever do it again. Come, let's go over Yonder where we caught the young owl. Dickie may have wanted to try that little game again. So they went on calling, listening, then struggling on again, more anxious every moment, but not so thoroughly dazed as Belle, who had rocked her baby brother in his cradle, and to whom he was the embodiment of every earthly grace, if not every heavenly virtue. I might have known this would happen. She said miserably, He's so careless that if we ever find him again, we must keep him tied to something. Take care of your steps, dear. Said Jeff. And munch this cracker, or you won't have strength enough to go on with me. I wish we were not getting so dark. The moment the sun gets behind these mountaintops, the light seems to vanish in an instant. Dickie! Think of the poor darling out in this darkness. Hungry, frightened, and alone? Said Belle. It's past his bedtime now. Oh, why did we ever come to stay in this horrible place? You must not blame the place, dear. We thought it the happiest in the world this morning. Here we are by the upper pool, and the path stops. Which way had we better go? I've been here before today. Said Belle. We might follow the trail I made. But where is my string? Let him match, Jeff, please. What string? What do you mean? Why, I found a beautiful spot this morning, and fearing I shouldn't remember the way back again, I took out my ball of twine and dropped a white line all the way back, like Ariadne. But I don't see it. Where can it have disappeared, unless Jack or Phil took it to tease me? Oh, no. I've been with them all day. Perhaps a snake has swallowed it. Come. But a bright idea had popped into Belle's head. I want to go that way, Jeff, dear. It's as good as any other, and there are flowers just the other side, in an open, sunny place. Perhaps he found them. All right. Let's go ahead. The trouble is, I don't know which way to go. Here is the rock. I remember it was a spotted one, with tall ferns growing beside it. Now I went—let me see—this way. And they both plunged into the thick brush. Belle—Belle, this is utter nonsense. Cried Jeff. No child could crawl through this tangle. Dicky could crawl through anything in this universe if it was the wrong thing. He isn't afraid of beast, bird, or fish, and he positively enjoys getting scratched. Said Belle. Meanwhile, what had become of this small hero, and what was he doing? He was last seen in the hammock, playing with the long-suffering terrier Lubin, who was making Belle go to sleep. It proved to be entirely a make-believe, for at the first loosening of Dicky's strangling hold upon his throat, he tumbled out of the hammock and darted into the woods. Dicky followed, but Lubin was fleet of foot, and it was a desperate and exciting race for full ten minutes. At length, as Lubin heard his master's gleeful laugh, he realized that his anger was a thing of the past. Consequently, he wheeled about and ran into Dicky's outstretched arms, licking his face and hands exuberantly in the joy of complete forgiveness. By this time, the voice of conscience in Dicky's soul—and it was a very, very still, small one on all occasions—was entirely silenced. He strayed into a sunny spot, and picked flowers enough to trim his little sailor hat, probably divining that this was what lost children in Sunday school books always did, and it would be dishonorable not to keep up the superstition. Then he built a fine, strong dam of stones across the brook, waiting to and fro without the bother of taking off his shoes and stockings, and filled his hat with rocks and sunk it to the bottom for a wharf. Keeping his hat-band to tie an unhappy frog to a bit of bark, and setting him afloat as the captain of a slave ship. When, at length, the struggling creature freed himself from his bonds and leaped into the pool, Dicky played that he was a drowning child, and threw Lubin into the water to rescue him. In these merry antics the hours flew by unnoticed. He had never been happier in his life, and it flashed through his mind that if he were left entirely to himself he should always be good. Here I've been a whole day, awful good by my own self. Having said one naughty word or did one naughty thing, nor got scolded a single once did I, Lubin. I guess we'd better live here, isn't we, Luby? And then we won't get stuck into our bed for wetting our feet. Little teeny mites of wet every single night, all the live long days, will we, Lubah? But this was a long period of reflection for Master Dicky, and he capered on farther and farther, the water sluzzling frightfully in his little copper-toed boots. At length he sat down on a stone to rest himself, and glancing aimlessly about, his eyes fell on a white string, which he grasped with alacrity, pulling its end from beneath the stone on which he sat. Luby Winship, the angels gave me this string for to make an awful splendid tight harness for you, little Luby, and you can drag big heavy stones. Won't that be nice? Lubin looked doubtful, and wagged his tail dissentingly, as much to say that his ideas of angel ministrations were a trifle different. But there was no end to the string, how very, very curious, Dicky wound and wound, and crept and crept along, until he was thoroughly tired, but thoroughly determined to see it through. And Lubin, meanwhile, had seized the first convenient moment after the mention of the harness to retire to the camp. At length, oh joy, the tired and torn little men, following carefully the leading string, issued from the scratching bushes into a clean, beautiful round place, with a great, restful-looking stump in the center, and rounded space, a small forest of snowy toadstools. What could be a lovelier surprise? Dicky clapped his hands in glee as he looked at them, and thought of a little verse of poetry which Bell had taught him. Some fairy umbrellas came up today under the elm tree just over the way, and as we have had a shower of rain, the reason they came is made very plain. Tonight is the woodland fairy's bowl, and drops from the elm tree might on them fall, so little umbrellas wait for them here, and under their shelter they'll dance without fear. Take care where you step, nor crush them, I pray, for fear you will frighten the fairies away. Thoughts, Dicky, in a trance of delight. Now I shall go to the fairy's bowl and see him dance under the cunning, little, tinty umbrellas. And won't they be mad at home when nobody can't see him but just only me? And then if that poetry is a big whopper, like their other one, land lamp story of Bell's, I'll just pick every white toadstool for my papa's Sunday dinner, and she shan't never see a single fairy dance. But he waited very patiently for a long, long time that seemed like years, for Lubin had disappeared, and all at once it grew so dark in the sickly-wooded place that Dicky's courage oozed out in a single moment, without any previous warnings as to its intention. The toadstools looked like the ghosts of little past and gone fairy umbrellas in the darkness, and not a single fairy couple came to waltz under their snowy canopies or exchange a furtive kiss beneath their friendly shadows. Dicky thought the situation exceedingly gloomy, and without knowing it followed the example of many older people, who, on being deserted by man, experienced their first desire to find favor with God. He was not in the least degree a saintly child, but he felt instinctively that this was the proper time for prayer, and not knowing anything appropriate to the occasion, he repeated over and over again the time-worn plaint of childhood. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. Amen! Nice! He grumbled between his sobs. They're the meat they suppose I'm going away from in this dark. When the bears have ate me up in-in teensy snips, they'll be satisfied, I guess, and wish they'd took good or care of me a little spick of a boy, lifted out in this dark berry place all by his lone self. And he wound up with a murderous yell, which had never failed before to bring the whole family to his side. His former prayer seeming to be in vain. He found a soft place, brushed it as clean as possible, and with difficulty bending his little stiff, scratched body into a kneeling position, he prayed his nightly postscript to now I lay me. God bless Papa, Mama, Belle, Jack, Mads, Polly, Phil, Jeff, and Elsie. Then realizing that he was in a perilous position, and it behoved him to be as pious as possible, he added, And please bless Ponzo, and hope yet l've on the goats, not the wild goat up on the hill but my goat, what got sick to his stomach when I painted him with black letters. What a dreadful calamity to be sure if the wrong goat had been blessed by mistake. His whole duty performed. He picked the toadstools for his Papa's Sunday dinner, and leaning his head against the lone stump, himself to sleep. But relief was near, though he little suspected it as he lay in the sound dreamless sleep which comes only to the truly good. There was a crashing sound in the still darkness and Belle plunged through the thick underbrush with a cry of delight. He is here! Dear, dear Jeff, he is all here! I knew it! I knew it! Hurrah! No, I mean—thank God! she said softly as she stooped down to kiss her mischievous little brother. But what a looking creature! exclaimed Jeff as he stooped over the recovered treasure. See, Belle, his curls are glistening with pitch, his dress is torn into ribbons, and his hands. Ah, how dirty! Poor little darling, he is thoroughly used up! whispered Belle, wiping tears of joy from her brown eyes. Now I'll run home like lightning to Bloody Horn, and you carry Dicky, for he's too sleepy and stiff to walk. And Jeff— Here she laid an embarrassed hand on his shoulder. I'm afraid he'll be awfully cross, but you'll not mind it, will you? He is so worn out. Not I. Laughed Jeff as he dropped a brotherly kiss on Belle's pale cheek. But I've no idea of letting you go alone. You're tired to death, and you'll miss the path. Hmm. I wish I could carry you both. Tired? Afraid? Cried Belle, with a ringing laugh, while Dicky woke with a stare, and nestled on Jeffree's shoulder as if nothing had happened. Why, now that this weight is lifted off my heart, I could see a path in an untraveled forest. Goodbye, you dear darling, cruel boy. I must run, for every moment is precious to Mama. And with one strangling hug which made Dicky's ribs crack, she dashed off. Oh, how joyously, how sweetly and tunefully, the furious blast of the old cracked dinner-horn fell on the anxious ears in that canyon. It seemed clearer and more musical than a chime of silver bells. In a trice the wandering couples had gathered jubilantly round the campfire, all embracing Belle, who was the heroine of the hour. Entirely by chance and not through superior vision or courage as she confessed. It was hardly fifteen minutes when Jeff strode into the ring with his sorry-looking burden, which he laid immediately in Aunt Truth's lap. Oh, my darling! Oh! She cried, embracing him fondly. To think you were really not dead after all. No, he is about as alive as any chap I ever saw. And while the happy parents caressed their restored darling, Jeff gathered the girls and boys around the dinner table and repeated some of Dicky's remarks on the homeward trip. It seems that he considered himself the injured party, and with great ingenuity laid all the blame of the mishap on his elders. Nobody takes care of me anyhow, he grumbled. If my papa wasn't a mean thing, I'd order to have a black nurse with a white cap and an apron, like Billy Thomas. Then I couldn't get lost in so awful easy, and you'll all never care the scent about it either, or you'd have founded me quicker than this. And I've been hungry for nineteen hours, and I guess I've been gone till December by the feeling, but you was too lazy to found me if I freeze to death. And there ain't but one single boy of me around the whole camp, and I would have served you right if I'd got lost forever. Then I bet you wouldn't have had much fun forth of July, thought my two bits and my firecrackers. It was an hour or two before peace and quiet were restored to the camp. The long-delayed dinner had to be eaten, and to hop yet's calm delight it was a very bad one. Dicky's small wounds were dressed with sweet oil, and after being fed and bathed he was tucked lovingly into bed, with a hundred kisses or more from the whole party. The little rest and attention had entirely restored his good humor, and when Dr. Paul went into the tent to see that all was safe for the night, he found him sitting up in bed with a gleeful countenance, prattling like a little angel. We had an awful funny time about me getting lost, didn't we? Mama! Hee-hee-hee-hoo! Chuckled he with his gurgling little laugh. Next time I'm going to get losted in the other brand new place where nobody can find me. Hee-hee-hee-hoo! I think it was the nicest time except force of July, don't you, Mama? Hee-hee-hee-hoo! And he patted his mother's cheek and imprinted an oily kiss thereon. Tooth. Said the doctor with mild severity. I know you don't believe in applying the slipper, but I do think we should arrange some plan for giving that child an idea of the salinity of life. So far as I can judge, he looks at it as one prolonged picnic. My sentiments exactly! cried Bell energetically. A constant many more of these drying scenes I am worn to a shudder. Dickie tucked his head under his mother's arm with a sigh of relief that there was one person at least, whose sentiments were always favourable and always to be relied upon. I love you the best of anybody, Mama! whispered he and fell asleep. End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of A Summer in a Canyon A California Story by Kate Douglas Wigan This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 4 Rime and Reason A Budget of Letters from the Camp Mailbag The letter of a friend is a likeness passing true. Our friend Polly was seated in a secluded spot when Saul but her had blood. Her grave demeanour, her discarded sunbonnet, her corrugated brow, all bespoke more than common fixedness of purpose, the cause of which will be discovered in what follows. 1 From the Countess Paulina Oliveira to her friend and confidante, the Lady Elsie Howard. Footnotes by a rival of the Countess. Seen a sequestered nook in the valley of the flowers. Camp Chabrol, July 6th, 1880-something. The Countess is discovered at her Omerloo, that spelled right, writing table. A light zephyr, fifty miles an hour, Jack says, lays with her golden locks, poetic license, and caresses her Grecian, gone back to cold cream, nose, a nose that carries on its surface a few trifling freckles, which serve but to call attention to its exquisite purity of outline and the height of its ambition. Her eyes reflect the changing shadows of moonlight and her mouth is one fit for sweet sounds and pie. Yet this only gives you a faint idea of the beauteous creature whose fortunes we shall follow in our next number, for sailed at all bookstores ten cents a copy. I have given that style a fair trial, my dear darling, but I cannot stand at another minute, not being familiar with the language of what our cook used to call the fuddle aristocracy, feudal, you know. I, your faithful Polly, am seated in the card room, writing with a dreadful pin which Phil gave me yesterday. Its internal organs are filled with ink, which it disgorges when pressed to do so. But just now it is too full for utterance, as you will see by the blots. We have decided not to make this a real round robin letter like the last, because we want to write what we like and not have it read by the person who comes next. I have been badgered to death over my part of the communication sent to you last week, for the young persons connected with this camp have a faculty of making mountains out of mohills as you know, and I have to suffer for every careless little speech. However, as we didn't wish to bore you with six duplicate letters, we invented a plan for keeping off each other's ground and appointed Jeff a committee of one to settle our line of march. It is to be a collective letter made up of individual notes, and these are Jeff's sealed orders which must be obeyed on pain of dismissal from the camp. Number one, Polly, is to amuse. Number two, Phil, inform. Number three, Jeff, edify. Number four, Maj, gossip. Number five, Bell, versify. Number six, Jack, illustrate. So my dear, if you get any information or happen to be edified by what I write, don't mention it for worlds. I just screamed my fears about this matter to Jack and he says I need an fret. I shall certainly slap that boy before the summer is over. I could just tell you a lovely story about Dickies getting lost in the woods the day before yesterday and our terrible fright about him and how we all joined in the boy hunt until Jeff and Bell found him at the lone stump. But I suppose the chronicle belongs to Phil's provenance, so I desist. But what can I say? Suppose I tell you that Uncle Doc and the boys have been shooting innocent tame sheep, skinning and cutting them up on the way home and making us believe for two days that we were eating venison and we never should have discovered the imposition, had not Dickie dragged home four sheep skins from the upper pool and told us that he saw the boys peeling them off of venison. Perhaps Phil may call this information and Marjorie will vow that it is gossip and belongs to her. Anyway, they consider it a splendid joke and chuckle themselves to sleep over it every night. But I think the whole affair is perfectly maddening and it makes me boil with rage to be taken in so easily. Such a to-do is they make over the matter you never saw. You would think it was the first successful joke since the deluge. That wasn't a dry joke, was it? Ha, ha! This is the way they twang on their harp of a thousand strings. At breakfast this morning when Jack passed me the cornbread I said innocently, Why, what have we here? It is Manna that fell in the night, answered Jack with an exasperating snicker. You didn't know mutton, but I thought, being a Sunday school teacher, you would know something about Manna. N.B. He alludes to that time I took the infant class and they all ran out to see a military funeral procession. I wish you knew something about Manna's, snapped I, and then Aunt Truth had to warn us both as usual. Oh, dear, it's a weary world. I'd just like to get Jack at a disadvantage once. We climbed Pico Negro yesterday. Belle, Jeff, Phil and I had quite an experience in losing the trail. I will tell you about it just as, Goodness me! What have I written? Oh, Elsie, pray excuse those horizontal evidence of my forgetfulness and disobedience. I have bumped my head against the table three times as penance and will now try to turn my thoughts into right channels. This letter is a black and white evidence that I have not a frivolous order of mind and have always been misunderstood for my birth up to this date. We have had beautiful weather since, but no, of course Phil will tell you about the weather for that is scarcely an amusing topic. I do want to be as prudent as possible, for Uncle Doc is going to read all the letters, not of course aloud, and see whether we have fulfilled our specific obligations. I just asked Belle whether specific had a C or an S in the middle, and she answered, C, of course, with such an air you should have heard her. I had to remind her of the time she spelled Toffet with an F in the middle, then she subsided. I just read this last paragraph to Manj to see if she called it Gossip as I was going to take it out if it belonged to her topic, but she said no, she didn't call it Gossip at all, that she should call it Slander. You don't know how we all long to see you, dear darling, that you are. We live in the hope of having you with us very soon, and meanwhile the beautiful bedstead is almost finished and a perfect success. I wish to withdraw the last three quarters of that sentence for obvious reasons. Dear, dear, Jeffrey calls time up, and I've scarcely said anything I should. Never, never again will I submit to this method of correspondence. It is absolutely petrifying to one's genius. When I am once forced to walk in a path, nothing but the hole out of doors will satisfy me. I am very much afraid I haven't amused you, dear. But when I lie in the green Kirk Yard with the mold upon my breast, say not that she did it well or ill, only she did her best. Now do you think that will interfere with Bell when it's only a quotation? Anyway, it's so appropriate that Uncle Doc will never have the heart to strike it out. The trouble is that Jeff thinks all the poetry in the universe is locked up in Bell's head, and if she once allows it to escape, Felicia Hemans and the rest will be too discouraged ever to try again. I can't remember whether F.H. is alive or not, and I'm afraid to ask, but you will know that I don't mean to be disrespectful. Laura, Anne, and Scott Burton were here for the play, and Laura is coming down again to spend the week. I can't abide her, and there will probably be trouble in the camp. The flame of my genius blazes high just now, but Jeff has spoken and it must be snuffed, so goodbye. Ssss, and I'm out. Polly Oliver. Number 2 From Philip to Elsie Camp Chaperole, July 8th, 1880 Blank My dear Elsie, I believe I am to inform you concerning the daily doings of our party, not on any account, however, permitting myself to degenerate into gossip or frivolous amusement. They evidently consider me a quiet, stupid fellow who will fulfill such a task with no special feeling of repression, and I dare say they are quite right. They call me the solid man of the camp, which may not be very high praise, to be sure, as Jeffrey carries his head in the clouds, and Jack is, well, Jack is Jack, so, as the light of a tallow dip is valuable in the absence of sun and moon, I am raised to a fictitious reputation. We fellows have had very little play so far, for the furnishing of the camp has proved an immense undertaking, although we have plenty of the right sort of wood and excellent tools. We think the work will pay, however, as Dr. Paul has about decided to stay until October or until the first rain. He writes two or three hours a day, and thinks that he gets on with his book better here than at home. As for the rest of us, when we get fairly to rights, we shall have regular study hours, and lose no time in preparing for the examination. I suppose you know that you have a full bedroom set in process of construction. I say suppose you know, because it is a profound secret and the girls could never have kept it to themselves as long as this. The lounging chair is my allotted portion and although it is a complicated bit of work, I accepted it gladly, feeling sure that you would use it oftener than any of the other pieces of furniture. I shall make it so deliciously easy that you will make me knight of the chair and perhaps permit me to play a sort of devoted John Brown to your Victoria. You will need one dole in Prozie Squire to arrange your pillows so that you can laugh at Jack's jokes without weariness and doze quietly while Jeff and Uncle Doc are talking medicine. Of course the most exciting event of the week was the mysterious disappearance and subsequent restoration of the heir apparent, but I feel sure somebody else will describe the event because it is uppermost in all our minds. Belle for instance would dress it up in fine style. She is no historian but in poetry and fiction none of us can touch her though by the way Polly's abilities in that direction are a good deal underrated. It's as good as a play to get her after Jack when he is in one of his teasing dudes. They are like flint and steel and if ant truth didn't separate them the sparks would fly. With a girl like Polly you have either to lie awake knights thinking how you'll get the better of her or else put on a demeanor of gentleness and patience which serves as a sort of lightning rod round which the fire of her fun will play all day and never strike. Polly is a good deal of a girl. She seems at first to have a pretty sharp tongue but I tell you she has a heart in which there is swimming room for everybody. This may not be information to you whom we look upon as our clairvoyant but it would be news to most people. Uncle Doc, Belle, Jeff, Polly, Meg and I started for the top of Pico Negro the other morning. Belle rode villicans and Polly took a mule because she thought the animal would be especially sure-footed. He was. In fact, he was so sure-footed that he didn't care to move at all and we had to take turns in beating him up to the top. We boys walked for exercise which we got to our heart's content. It is only five or six miles from the old mountain mill a picture of which Jack will send you and the ascent is pretty stiff climbing though nothing terrific. We lost the trail once and floundered about in the chaperone for half an hour till Belle began to make a poem on the occasion when we became desperate and dashed through a thicket of brush tearing ourselves to bits but stumbling on the trail at last. The view from the top is simply superb. The valleys below are all yellow with grain fields and green with vineyards with here and there the roofs of a straggling little settlement. The depression in the side of the mountain you will observe it in the picture. Polly says has evidently been bitten out by a prehistoric animal and it turns out to be the loveliest little canyon imaginable. We have had one novel experience that of seeing a tarantula fight and not between two but five tarantulas. We were about 20 miles from camp loping along a stretch of hot dusty road. Jack got off to cinch his saddle and so we all stopped a moment to let our horses breathe. As I was looking about at nothing in particular, I noticed a black ball in the deep dust at the side of the road. It suddenly rolled over on itself and I called to the boys to watch the fun. We got off, hitched our horses and approached cautiously for I had seen a battle of the same kind before. There they were, five huge, hairy, dirty black creatures as large as the palm of Dickie's hand all locked in deadly combat. They writhed and struggled and embraced their long curling legs fastening on each other with a sound that was actually like the cracking of bones. It takes a little courage to stand and watch such a proceeding for you feel as if the hideous fellows turn and jump for you. But they were doubtless absorbed in their own battle and we wanted to see the affair to the end so we took the risk if there was any. At last they showed signs of weariness but we prodded them up with our riding whips preferring that they should kill each other rather than do the thing ourselves. Finally, four of them lay in the dust, doubled up in harmless slain I suppose by their own poison. One the conquering hero remained and we dexterously scooped him into a tomato can that Jack had tied to a saddle for a drinking cup, covered him up with a handkerchief, and drew lots as to who should carry him home to Dr. Paul. Knowing that the little beasts were gregarious, we hunted about for a nest which we might send to you after ousting its disagreeable occupant. After much searching, we found a group of them. Quite a tarantula village in fact. Their wonderful little houses are closed on the outside by a circular, many webbed mesh, two or three inches across, and this web betrays the spiders then to the person who knows the tricks of the trade. Directly underneath it you come upon the tiny circular trap door, which you will notice in the nest we send with these letters. You will see how wonderfully it is made, with its silk and inside, and its bits of bark and leaves outside, and I know you will admire the hinge which the tarantula must have invented, and which is as pretty a bit of workmanship as the most accomplished mechanic could turn out. We tore away the web in the door from one of the nests and then poured water down the hole. The spider was at home, came out as fast as his clumsy legs would carry him, and clutched the end of the stick, Jack held out to him. Then we tumbled him into the tomato can just as he appeared to be making for us. The two didn't agree at all, one of them dispatched the other on the way home, this same hero who had killed the other four, but on hearing his bloody record, Anttruth refused to have him about the camp, so we gave him an alcohol bath and you shall see his lordship when you come. As Dr. Paul says they have been known to clear 14 feet at a jump. Perhaps you will feel happier to know that he is an alcohol, though their bite is not necessarily fatal if it is rightly cared for. The girls have been patronizing the landscape by naming every peak, valley, grove, and stream in the vicinity, and as there is nobody to object, the names may hold. We carry about with us a collection of strong flash steaks which have various names painted on them neat black letters. Jack likes that kind of work and spends most of his time at it for now that Dr. Paul has brought 100 acres up here, we are all greatly interested in its improvement. Jeff has named the mountain Pico Negro as I told you and the little canyon on its side is called the Giant's Yond. Then we have Mirror Pool, the Lone Stump Field of the Cloth of Gold Cozy Nook, the Ims Washbowl Dunce Cap Hill, the Saints Rest and Il Pinciroso Fall in honor of Dickey who is nearly drowned there. If anybody fails to call these localities by their proper names, he has to pay a fine of 5 cents which goes towards beautifying the place. Dr. Paul has had to pay 2 fines for Bell, 3 for Ant Truth and 7 for Dickey so he considers it an ill judged arrangement. Our encampment is supposed to be in the Forest of Arden and Jack has begun nailing verses of poetry on the trees like a second Orlando save that they are not love poems at all but appropriate quotations from Wordsworth or Bryant and this brings me to our thrilling rendition of the play As You Like It last evening but it is deserving of more than the passing notice which I can give it here. One thing however I must tell you as the girls will not write it of themselves that although Bell carried off first honors and fairly captivated the actors as well as the audience all three of them looked bewitching and acted with the greatest spirit much better than we fellows did. Of course we didn't give the entire play and we had to double up on some of the characters in the most ridiculous fashion but the Bertons helped out wonderfully, Scott playing Oliver and Laura doing Audrey. They were so delighted with the camp that Aunt Truth has invited them to come again on Saturday and stay a week. At the risk of being called conceded I will also state that we boys consider that the stage management was a triumph of inventive art. We worked like beavers for two days and the results were marvelous if I do say so I shouldn't just consider we were six miles from a lemon as Sydney Smith would say and yet we transformed all out of doors first into an elegant interior and then into a conventional stage forest. A great deal of work is available for other performances and so we do not regret it a bit. We propose doing as you like it again when you are down here and meanwhile we give diversified entertainments which Jack calls variety shows but which in reality are very chaste and elegant occasions. The other night we had a minstrel show wearing masks of black cambrick with red mouths painted on them you should have seen us all in a dusky semi-circle seated on boards supported by nail kegs it was a scene better imagined than described. This is certainly the ideal way to live in summertime and we should be perfectly happy and content if you could only shake your troublesome cough and come to share our pleasure. We feel incomplete without you and no matter how large our party may grow as the summer progresses there will always be a vacant niche that none can fill save the dear little saint who is always enshrined therein by all her loyal worshipers and by none more reverently than her friend Philip S. Noble. This paper is written to her most royal highness, our beloved gold Elsie, queen of our thoughts and impris of all hearts. You must know, most noble lady, that one who is your next of kin and high in the royal favor has laid upon us a most difficult and embarrassing task. In our capacity as director of the court games we humbly suggested the subjects for the weekly bulletin which your highness commanded to be written but alas with indifferent success. For the courtiers growled and the ladies in waiting howled at the topics given them for consideration. On soliciting our own subjects from the privy counsellor and knight of the brush Lord John Howard he revengefully ordered me to edify your majesty with wise utterances as if such poor rude words as mine could please the ear that should only listen to the singing of birds, the babbling of brooks or the silvery tongue of genius. When may your devoted subjects hope to see their gracious sovereign again in their midst. The court is fast drifting into dangerous informalities of conduct. The Princess Bell Pepper partakes the odiferous onion at each noonday meal so that a royal salute would be impossible. The hands of the Countess Paulina look as if you might have chosen one of your attendants from Afriq's Sunny Fountains or India's Coral Strand. And as for the court Reverend Jack in the Pulpit he has woefully forsaken the manners of the cloth and insists upon retaining his ancient title of Knight of the Brush. The Duchess of Sweet Marjoram alone continues circumspect in Walk and Mean for blood will tell and she is more noble than the others. In our capacity of court physician we have thrice relieved your youthful page, Sir Dicky Winship of indigestion caused by two generous indulgence in the flowing bowl of milk and cherries. We have also prescribed for his grace the Duke of Noble whose ducal ear was poisoned by the insidious oak leaf. Your private box awaits you in the Princess Theatre and your Majesty's special interpreters of the drama will celebrate your arrival as gorgeously as it deserves. The health of our dearly beloved Sovereign engages the constant thought of all her loyal and adoring subjects. They hope ere long to cull a wreath of laurel with their own hands and place it on a brow which needs not but its golden crown of hair to affirm its queenly dignity. And as for crown jewels has not our Empress of Hearts a full store? Two dazzling sapphires her eyes, a string of pearls her teeth, her lips two rubies and when she opens them diamonds of wisdom issue therefrom. Come and let the sight of thy royal charms gladden the eyes of thy waiting people. Issued under the hand of Sir Jeffrey Strong, Baronet, court physician in Night of the Spectacles. Marjoriega's Contribution Cozino, July 11, 18, 8, my own dear LC Your weekly chronicle is almost ready for Monday's stage and I am allowed to come in at the close with as many pages of gossip as I choose, which means that I may run on to my heart's content for all the little things that happen in the chinks between the great ones for Uncle Doc has refused to read this part of the letter. First, for some commissions. Aunt Truth asks if your mother will kindly select goods and engage Mrs. Perkins to make us each a couple of scotch gingham dresses. She has our measures and we wish them simple full-skirted gowns like the last. Everybody thinks I'm so pretty and becoming. Bells too must be buff in pink, polys grey and green blue and brown. We find that we haven't closed enough for a three-month day and the outdoor life is so hard upon our forest suits that we have asked Mrs. Perkins to send us new ones as soon as possible. We have had a very busy and exciting week since Polly began this letter for there have been various interruptions in an unusual number of visitors. First, there was a mountain climb to the top of Piconegro. Phil says he has written you about that but I hardly believe he mentioned that he and the other boys worried us sadly by hanging on to the tails of our horses as they climbed up the steepest places. To be sure they were so awfully tired that I couldn't help pitting them but Uncle Doc had tried to persuade them not to walk so that it was their own fault after all. You cannot imagine what a dreadful feeling it gives one to be climbing a slippery rocky path in order to great heavy boys pulling your horse backwards by the tail. Polly insisted that she heard her Mule's tail break loose from its moorings and on measuring it when she got back to camp she found it three inches longer than usual. The Mule acted like original sin all day and Polly was so completely worn out that she went to bed at five o'clock. Jack was a good deal the worst for Bear too so that they got unbeautifully all day. It is queer that they irritate each other so for I'm sure there is no lack of real friendship between them but Jack is a confirmed tease and he seems to keep all his mischief bottled up for a special use with Polly. I have tried to keep him out of trouble as you asked me and although it gives me plenty to do I am succeeding tolerably well except in his dealings with Polly. I lecture him continually but every time he opens up his mouth he puts his foot in it. Polly was under a cloud the first of the week. Willikens was sick and Dr. Winship sent her to Aunt Truth for a bottle of sweet oil. Aunt Truth was not in sight so Polly went to the box of stores and emptied a whole quart bottle of salad oil into a pail and Willikens had to take it wheel or war. Jack's joke Aunt Truth went to make the salad dressing at dinner time and discovered her loss and Polly's mistake it was the last bottle and as we can't get any more for a week the situation was serious and she was very much tried. Poor Polly had a good cry over her carelessness and came to the dinner table in a frame of mind. Then what should Jack do but tell Dickie to take Willikens ahead of lettuce for his supper and ask Polly why she didn't change his name from Willikens to salad in. Polly burst into tears and left the table while Dr. Paul gave Jack a scolding which I really think he deserved though it was a good joke. The next morning the young gentleman put on a pair of old white cotton gloves and his best hat gathered her a bouquet of wild flowers and made her a handsome apology before the whole party so she forgave him and their friends until the next quarrel. On the night before the play Laura and Scott Burton arrived on horseback and the next morning the rest of the family appeared on the scene. We had sent over to see if Laura would play Audrey on so short notice and bring over some odds and ends for costumes. We actually had an audience of 16 persons and we had no idea of playing before anybody but Aunt Truth and Dickie. There were three of the burdens Pancho, Hope yet the people from the dairy farm and the university professor from Berkeley with 8 students. They were on a walking tour and were just camping for the night when Scott and Jack met them and invited them over to the performance. Geoffrey and Phil were acquainted with three of them and Uncle Paul knew the professor. Laura and Scott went home the next morning but came back in two days for their week's visit. The boys liked Scott very much. He falls right into the camp ways and doesn't disturb the even current of our life. And Anne, who is a sweet little girl of 12 has quite taken Dickie under her wing much to our relief. With Laura as it went, however a change came over the spirit of our dreams and to tell the truth we're not over and about pleased with it. By the way, she spent last summer to the hotel and you must have seen her, did you not? Mrs. Burton and Aunt Truth were old school friends and Belle has known Laura for two years but they will never follow in her mother's footsteps. Laura is so different from her mother that I should never think they were relations and she has managed to change all our arrangements in some mysterious way which we can't understand. I get on very well with her. She positively showers favors upon me and I more than have suspected this because she thinks I don't amount to much. As for the others she rubs Polly the wrong way and I believe she's a little bit jealous of Belle. You see, she's several months older than the rest of us and has spent two winters in San Francisco where she went out a great deal to parties and theaters so that her ideas are entirely different from ours. She wants every single bit of attention one boy to help her over the brooks, one to cut walking sticks for her, another to peel her oranges and another to read Spanish with her and so on. Now you know very well that she will never get all this so long as Belle Vinship is in camp. For the boys think that Belle drags up the sun when she's ready for him in the morning and pushes him down at night when she happens to feel sleepy. We who have known Belle always cannot realize that anyone can help loving her but there is something in Laura which makes it impossible for her to see the right side of people. She told me this morning that she thought Belle had grown so way in an area of consciousness that it was painful to see her. I could not help being hurt for you know what Belle is brimful of nonsense and sparkle and bright speeches but just as open as the day and as warm as the sunshine if she could have been spoiled we should have turned her head long ago but she hasn't a bit of silly vanity and I never met anyone before who didn't see the pretty charm of her brightness and goodness. Did you? And yet somehow Laura sticks needles into her every time she speaks. She feels them too but it only makes her quiet for she is too proud and sensitive to resent it. I can see that she is different in her ways as if she felt she was being criticized. Polly is quite the reverse. If anybody hurts the feelings she makes creation scream and I admire her courage. Andrew doesn't know anything about all this but Laura is a different girl when she is with her or Dr. Paul and she is very anxious for their good opinion. You remember Andrew's hobby that we should never defend ourselves by attacking anyone else and none of us would ever complain if we were hung, drawn and quartered. Laura was miffed at having to play Audrey but we didn't know that she could come until the last moment and we were going to leave that part out. I don't believe you appreciate my generosity in taking this tankless part. She said to Belle when we were rehearsing nobody would ever catch you playing the second fiddle, my dear, or leading parts reserved to mis-winship by order of the authors, I suppose. Indeed, Laura. Belle said if he had known you were coming we would have offered you the best part but I only took Rosalind because I knew the lines and the girls insisted. Huh! You trained the girls well. Hasn't she, Jeffrey? asked Laura with a queer kind of laugh. But I'll leave the unpleasant subject. I should not have spoken of it at all except that she has made me so uncomfortable today that it is fresh in my mind. Belle and Polly and I have talked the matter all over and are going to try and make her like us. Whether she wants to or not. We have agreed to be just as polite and generous as we possibly can and see if she won't come round for she is perfectly delighted with the camp and wants to stay a month. Polly says she's going to sing Home Sweet Home to her every night and drop double doses of the homeopathic cure for homesickness into a tea with a view of creating the disease. Goodbye and a hundred kisses from your loving Marjorie D'Or. Five. The camp poetess adds her story of mental riches to the general footprint. My darling I have a thousand things to tell you but I cannot possibly say them in rhyme merely because the committee insists upon it. I sent you here with all the poetry which has been written in camp since last Monday and it has been a very prosy week. I have given them to Papa and he says that the best of my own which are all bad enough is the following hammock song. I thought it out while I was swinging Marjorie and here it is. Two. Throw. Dreamily slow. Under the trees swing, swing. Drowsily sing. The birds and the bees. Sleep. Rest. Slumber is best. Wakefulness sad. Rest. Sleep. Forget how to weep. Dream and be glad. Papa says it is all nonsense to say that slumber is best and wakefulness sad and that it is possible to tell the truth about the poetry. Perhaps it is but why don't you do it often or then and how was it to know that Polly and Jack had just gone through a terrible battle of words in which I was peacemaker and that Dickie has been as naughty as Nero all day? These two circumstances made me look at the world through blue glasses and that is always the time one longs to write poetry. I sent you also Jeff's verses and slipped into the box when we were playing machine poetry. I know a woman fair and calm whose shining tender eyes make when I meet their earnest gaze sweet thoughts within me rise and if all silver were her hair or faded were her face she would not look to me less fair nor lack a single grace and if I were a little child and I was timid trust I think my heart would fly to her and love because it must and if I were an earnest man with empty heart and life I think but I might change my mind she'd be my chosen wife isn't that pretty? Oh Elsie I hope I shall grow old as beautifully as Mama does so that people can write poetry to me if they feel like it here is Jack's for Polly's birthday he says he got the idea from a real poem which is just as silly as his a polywong from a wayside brook is a goodly gift for thee but a milk white steed or a venison sheep will do very well for me for you a quivering asphodel two ducks and a good fat hen for me a withering hollyhock and three or ten rose red blocks and a pug for thee the falling dew is chill a dove a rope and a rose for me oh passionate pale blue pale for you a greenery yellowery gown has one tomb room for four dig me narrow gravelet here oh red is the stain of gore I thought Jack I told it extremely unhitched but he says that's the chief beauty of the imitation I give you also some verses intended for Polly's birthday which we shall celebrate when the day arrives by a grand dinner you remember how we tease her about her love for tea which she cannot conceal but which she is ashamed of all the same well I have printed the poem on a card and on the other side a picture of a cross old maid surrounded by seven cats all frying to get a drink out of her tea cup then Jeff is going to get a live cat from the milk ranch near here and books it up for me to give to her when she receives her presents at the dinner table won't it be fun oh to Polly because of her birthday she camps among the untrodden ways for nins the mountain mill a maid whom there are few to praise and few to wish her ill she lives unknown and few could know what Polly means to me as dear a joy as are to her her frequent cups of tea a birthday this dear creature had full many a year ago she says she is but just fifteen of course she ought to know but still this gift I bring to her to her age regardless of her stifled scorn or well concealed rage she smiles upon these tender lines as you all plainly see but when she meets me all alone how different it will be now comes Jeff's to be given with a pretty little ink stand there was a young maiden whose thought was so airy it couldn't be caught so what do you think we gave her some ink and captured her light-winged thought here is Jack's last on Polly there's a pert little puppet called Polly who frequently falls into folly she's a terrible town for a creature so young but if she were done she'd be jolly I helped Polly with a reply and we delivered it five minutes later I'd rather be death, Master Jack for if only one sense I must lack to be rid of your voice I should always rejoice nor mourn if it never came back and now good night and goodbye until I am allowed to write you my own particular kind of letter the girls and boys are singing round the campfire and I must go out and join them in one song before we go to bed yours with love now and always though yes our happy hexagon has become a sort of obstreperous octagon Laura and Scott Burton are staying with us Scott is a good deal of a bookworm and uses very long words his favourite name for me at present is Calliope I thought it was a sort of steam whistle but Marjorie thinks it was someone who was connected with poetry we don't dare ask the boys to find out 6 Camp Chaparral July 13th 1880 Studio Raphael Dear little sis the enclosed sketches speak for themselves or at least I hope they do keep them in your private portfolio and when I am famous you can produce them to show to the public at what an early age my genius began to sprout at first I thought I'd make them real William Henry pictures but concluded to give you a variety can't stop to write another line and if you missed your regular letter this week you must not growl the sketches took an awful lot of time and I'm just rust to death here anyway love to mother and father your loving brother Jack P.S. Paulie says you need not expect to recognise the portrait should you ever meet him as no one could expect to get a striking likeness at a distance of a half mile but honestly we have been closer than that to several dear End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 of a summer in a canyon a California story by Kate Douglas Wigan this liver box recording is in the public domain Chapter 5 The Forest of Arden from the east to west End no jewel is like Rosalind her worth being mounted on the wind through all the world bears Rosalind all the pictures fairest lined are but black to Rosalind let no face be kept in mind but the fair of Rosalind the grand performance of as you like it must have a more extended notice than it has yet received in as much as its double was never seen on any stage the reason of this somewhat ambitious selection lay in the fact that our young people had studied it in Dr. Winship Shakespeare class the preceding winter but they were actually done with astonishment when Belle proposed it for the opening performance in the new theater he tell you she argued there are not many pieces which would be effective when played out of doors by dim candlelight this will be just as romantic and lovely as can be you see it can be played just as you like it Philip and Ant Truth wanted a matinee performance but the girls resisted this plan very strongly feeling that the garish light of day would be bad for the makeshift costumes and would be likely to rob them of what little courage they possessed we give the decoration of the theater entirely into your hands boys Polly had said on the day before the performance you have some of the hardest work done already and can just devote yourselves to the ornamental part but don't expect any more ideas from us for you will certainly be disappointed I should think not indeed cried Belle energetically here we have the wall decorations for the first scenes and all the costumes besides and the trouble is that three or four of them will have to be made tomorrow after Laura comes with the trappings of war I hope you will get here for dinner tonight then we can decide on our finery and have a rough rehearsal well girls shouted Jack from the theater come and have one consultation and then we'll let you off Phil wants to change the location altogether nonsense cried Maj as the three girls it's the scene of action it's the only suitable place within a mile of the camp I think it will be simply perfect when you have done a little more cutting said Belle just see our advantages first we have that rising null opposite the stage which is exactly the thing for audience seats then we have a semi-circular background of trees and the flat place for the stage which is perfectly invaluable just gaze upon that madronio tree in the center and to open the left why they are worth a thousand dollars for scenery especially in the first scene ducal interior or whatever it is said Phil, disconsolently Jingo, that is a little embarrassing groaned Jack not at all said Polly briskly plenty of room to set the interior in front of those trees it can be all fixed beforehand and just whisked away for good at the end of the first act hmm that's true said Jeff thoughtfully but we can't have any Adam's cottage we talked it over last night and decided it couldn't be dead didn't you indeed exclaimed Belle sarcastically then allow me to remark two three boys represent a very obtuse triangle thanks most acid Rosalind murmured Jack meekly could you Dane as spokesman of the very acute triangle to suggest something certainly there is the rear of the brush kitchen in plain sight to convey the idea of a rustic hut to be sure it's a good distance they're left but let the audience screw around in their seats to hear the voices and Adam Oliver and Orlando can walk out carelessly and go through their scene right there admirable quote Jeff we bow to your superior judgment what an inspiration that was to bring those Chinese lanterns for the 4th of July they have just saved us from utter ruin said Marjorie who was quietly making leaf trimming yes the effect is going to be perfectly gorgeous exclaimed Polly clasping her hands in anticipation how many have we ten oh that's splendid and how many candles as many as we care to use Phil answered from the top of the ladder where he was at work and look at my arrangement for holding them to these trees aren't they immense by the way bell don't forget the mossy banks under those trees for stage seats and make me some kind of a thing on the left side to swoon on when I sniff Orlando's gory handkerchief a couple of rocks suggested Jack not exactly replied the critical Rosalind with great dignity I am black and blue already from practicing my faint I expect to shriek with pain when I fall tomorrow night St. Jacob's oil relieves stiffened joints smooths the wrinkles from the brow of care soothes the slacerated feelings and dushes the owl of infancy remarked Jeffrey serenely as he prepared to build the required mossy banks my dear cousin there are times when I am glad it is only second cousin have you a secret contract to advertise a vulgar patent medicine or why this eloquence left bell and Jack suggested Polly you don't seem to be doing anything fix a stump for me to sit on while Orlando and Rosalind are making love alright Countess I'd like to see you stumped once in my life shall we have the canvases brought for stage carpets we say no cried Rosalind firmly we shall be a thousand times more awkward stumbling over stiff billows of carpet let's sweep the ground as clean and smooth as possible and let it go for all the scenes yes we shall then be well grounded in our parts remarked Phil hiding his head behind a bunch of candles take care young man laughed Polly or you may be run to earth instead or be requested by the audience to get up and dust cried the irrepressible Jack whose wit was very apt to be of a slangy character now let us settle the interior or I shall go mad Bell and I have it all settled said Jeffrey promptly the background is to be made of three sheets hung over a line two sides will be formed of canvas carpets the walls will have Japanese fans, parasols and Jupiter exclaimed Jack who has a night of the brush felt compelled to be artistic imagine a dookal palace in the years so many hundred and something decorated with Japanese bric-a-brac I blush for you now Jack we might as well drop the whole play as begin to think of the necronisms whatever the word is I have got to wear an old white wrapper to the wrestling match but I don't complain said Polly just here Bell ran back from the kitchen exclaiming I have secured Pancho for Charles the wrestler oh he was fearfully obstinate but when I told him he would only be on the stage two minutes and would not have to speak a word but just let Jeff throw him he consented is that good? did you decide about the decorations? it would have to be just as we suggested answered Marjorie fans, parasols, flowers and leaves with the madronia wood furniture scattered about sheepskins etc a few venison rugs I presume you mean? said Jeffrey Slyly say Polly omit the cold cream for once will you you don't want to outshine everybody thank you she replied I will endeavor to take care of my own complexion if you will allow me as for yours you look more like Othello than Orlando come come girls said industrious Marjorie let us go to the tent and so it is nothing but nonsense here and we're not accomplishing anything so they wisely left the boys to themselves for the entire day and transformed their tent into a mammoth dressmaking establishment with clever ant truth as chief designer the intervening hours had slipped quickly away and now the fatal moment had arrived and everything was ready for the play the would-be actresses were a trifle excited when the professor and his eight students were brought up and introduced by Jack and Scott Burton and as if that were not enough you should drive up at the last moment but the family from the neighboring milk ranch and beg to be allowed the pleasure of witnessing the performance Mr. Sanford was the gentleman who had sold Dr. Winship his land and so they were cordially invited to remain all the cushions and shawls belonging to the camp were carefully arranged on the knoll for audience seats it was a brilliant moonlit night and the stage assumed a very festive appearance with its four pounds of candles and 12 Chinese lanterns meanwhile the actors were dressing in their respective tents Belle's first dress was a long pink Muslim wrapper of Mrs. Burton's which had been belted in and artistically pasted over with bouquets from the Cretan trunk covers in imitation of flowered satin under this she wore a short blue lawn skirt of her own catching up the pink muslin on the left side with a bouquet of wild roses and producing what she called a positively Nielsen effect her bright hair was tossed up into a fluffy knot on the top of her head and with a flat coronet of wild roses and another great bunch at her belt one might have gone far and not have found a prettier Rosalind I declare you're just too lovely isn't she Laura asked Marjorie yes she looks quite well answered Laura abstractedly being much occupied in making herself absurdly beautiful as Audrey of course the dress fits horribly but perhaps it won't show in the dim light oh is it very bad sighed Belle plaintively I can't see it in this glass well the next one fits better and I have to wear that the longest shall I do your hair Laura no thanks Marjorie has such a capital knack at hairdressing and she doesn't come on yet during this conversation Polly was struggling with Aunt Truth's trained white wrapper it was rather difficult to make it look like a court dress but she looked as fresh and radiant as a rose in it for the candlelight obliterated every freckle and one could see nothing but a pair of dancing eyes the pinkest of cheeks with curls of ruddy gold now Belle, criticize me she cried taking a position in the middle of the tent and turning round like a wax figure I have torn out my hair by the roots to give it a done up look and have I succeeded and shall I wear any flowers with this lace or fleece and what on earth shall I do with my hands they're so black they will cast a gloom over the stage perhaps I can wrap my handkerchief carelessly round one and I'll keep the other round your waist considerable tucked under your watto pleat will I do do I should think so and Belle eyed her with manifest approval your hair is very nice and your neck looks lovely with that lace handkerchief as for flowers why don't you wear a great mass of yellow and white daisies you'll be as gorgeous as as a sunset by Turner said Laura with a glance at Polly's all-burn locks seems to me this is a mutual admiration society isn't it and she sank languidly into a chair to have her hair dressed yes it is cried Polly boldly and it's going to continue you're darling in that blue print and pretty hat I'll fill my fern basket with flowers and you can take it as to have something in your hand to play with you look nicer than any Phoebe I ever saw that's a fact and now hurrah we're all ready and there's the boys bell so let us assemble out in the kitchen oh dear I believe I'm frightened in spite of every promise to the contrary when the young people saw each other for the first time in their stage costumes there was a good deal of merriment and some honest admiration Jeff looked very odd without his eyeglasses and with the yellow wig that was the one property belonging to this star dramatic organization the girls had not succeeded in producing a great effect with the masculine costumes because of insufficient material but the boys had determined not to wear their ordinary clothes no matter what happened so Jack had donned one of Pop yet's blue blouses for his silvia stress and had ready a plaid shawl to throw gracefully over one shoulder whenever he changed to the banished Duke his silvia's attire was open to criticism but no one could fail to admire his appearance as the Duke on account of a magnificent Dukele headgear from which soared a bunch of tall peacock feathers oh Jack what a hedge was for the Duke laughed marjorie no wonder they banished you did you offend the court hatter? Phil said that at all events nobody could mistake him for anything but a fool in his touchstone costume and so he was jester going to be contented Scott Burton was arranging Poncho's toilet for the wrestling match and meanwhile trying to race his drooping spirits and Rosalind was vainly endeavoring to make Adam's beard of gray moss stay on the fanatics were going on behind the scenes the audience was seated on the knoll making merry over the written programs which had been a surprise of Jeff's and Redd as follows The Princess Theatre July 10th, 1880 appearance of the greatest dramatic company on earth fact the coolest theater in the world a royal galaxy and boyoxy of artists in the play of As You Like It by William Shakespeare or Lord Bacon cast alas unmindful of their dune the little victims play no sense have they of ills to come or cares beyond today Rosalind, the Lady Belle Pepper her greatest creation Celia, the Countess Paulina Phoebe, the Duchess of Sweet Marjoram Audrey, a talented incognita of the court Orlando, Henry Irving Salvini Strong late from the blank theater oil city Adam, Dr. Paul Winship by kind permission of his manager Mrs. T.W. Benished Duke Silvius Lord John Howard, lightning change artist Touchstone Jacqui, Duke of Noble Notabene, the Duke of Noble has played the fool five million times Mr. Scott Burton, specially engaged Charles the wrestler Pancho Muldoon Sullivan his first appearance the comb orchestra will play the music of the future the usher will pass popcorn between the acts beds may be ordered at 1030 the scene between Adam and Orlando went off with good effect and when Celia and Rosalind came through the trees in an affectionate attitude and Celia's blithe voice broke the stillness with I pray the Rosalind sweet my cause be merry there was a hearty burst of applause which almost frightened them into silence at the end of the first act everybody was delighted the stage manager, carpenter scene shifter, costumier and all the stars were called successively before the curtain Hop yet declared it was all the same good as china theater and everyone agreed to that criticism without a dissenting voice to be sure there was an utter absence of stage management and all the traditions were remarkable for their absence but I fancy that the spirits of city and and Kimball, McCready and Garrick looked down with kind approval upon these earnest young actors as they recited the matchless old words moving to and fro in the quaint setting of trees and moonlight with an orchestra of cooing doves and murmuring zephyrs the forest scenes were intended to be the features of the evening and in these the young people fairly surpassed themselves anyone who had seen Nielsen in her doublet and hose of silver grey Mojesca in her shades of blue and Ada Cavendish in her lovely suit of green might have thought bells patched up dress a sorry mixture yet these three brilliant stars in the theatrical firmament might have envied this little Rosalind the dewy youth and freshness that so triumphed over all deficiencies of costume Marjorie's camping dress of grey shortened to the knee served for its basis round the skirt and belt and sleeves for broad bands of laurel leaf trimming she wore a pair of Marjorie's long grey stockings and Lara's dainty bronze newport ties a soft grey shut a shawl of ant truths was folded into a mantle to swing from the shoulder it's fringes being caught up out of sight and a laurel leaf trimming added on her bright wavy hair was perched to cunning flat cap of leaves and as she entered with Polly leaning on her Manzanita staff and sighing oh Jupiter how wary are my spirits one could not wish a lovelier stage picture and so the play went on with varying fortunes Marjorie was frightened to death and persisted in taking touchstone speeches right out of his mouth much to his discomforture Adam's beard refused to stay on so did the moustache of the banished Duke and the clothes of Sylveus but nothing could damp the dramatic fire of the players nor destroy the enthusiasm of the sympathetic audience Dicky sat in the dress circle wrapped in blankets and laughed himself nearly into convulsions over touchstone's jokes and the stage business of the banished Duke for it is unnecessary to state that Jack was not strictly Shakespearean in his treatment of the part as for Polly she enjoyed being Celia with all her might and declared her intention of going immediately on the regular stage but Jack somewhat destroyed her hopes by affirming that her nose and hair wouldn't be just the thing on the metropolitan boards although they might past muster in a backwoods theater hello what's this exclaimed Philip one morning a visitor yes no why it's Senor Don Manuel Felipe Illerio Noriega coming up the canyon he's got a loaded team too I wonder if Uncle Doc is expecting anything the swarthy gentleman with the long name emerged from one cloud of dust and disappeared in another until he neared the gate where Philip and Polly were standing Philip opened the gate and received a bow of thanks which would have made Manuel's reputation at a Spanish court going up to camp see Senor those things for us see Senor what are they see Senor exactly well are there any letters see Senor where upon he drew one from his gorgeously decorated leather belt Philip reached for it and Polly leaned over his shoulder devoured with curiosity it's for Aunt Truth she said and yes I am sure it is Mrs. Howard's writing and if it is here upon as Manuel spoke no English and neither Philip nor Polly could make inquiries in Spanish Polly darted to the cart in her usual meteoric style put one foot on the hub of a wheel and climbed to the top like a squirrel snatched off a corner of the canvas cover and cried triumphantly I knew it Elsie is coming here's a tent and some mattresses and pillows hurry help me down quick oh slow coach keep out of the way and I'll jump give me the letter I can run faster and before the vestige of an idea had penetrated Philip's head nothing could be seen of Polly but a pair of twinkling heels and the gleam of a curly head that caught every ray of the sun and turned it into rudder your gold it was a dusty rocky path and uphill at that but Polly who was nothing if not ardent never slackened her pace but dashed along until she came in sight of the camp where she expended her last breath in one shrill shriek for Aunt Truth it was responded to promptly indeed it was the sort of shriek that always commands instantaneous attention and Aunt Truth came out of her tent prepared to receive tragic news Belle followed and the entire family would have done the same had they been in camp Polly thrust the letter into Mrs. Windship's hand and sank down exhausted exclaiming breathlessly there's a mattress and a tent coming up the canyon it's Elsie's I know Philip is down at the gate with the cart but I came ahead phew but it's warm what cried Belle joyfully Elsie at the gate it can't be true and she darted like an arrow through the trees come back come back screamed Polly Elsie is not at the gate SDM FHN is there with the team loaded down with things isn't it from Mrs. Howard and Truth yes it is ridden this morning from Tacitus Rancho why how is this let me see Tacitus Rancho Monday morning dear truth you will be surprised to receive a letter from me ridden from Tacitus but here we are Elsie and what is better we are on our way to you I knew it exclaimed the girls Elsie has been growing steadily better for three weeks the fever seems to have disappeared entirely and the troublesome cough is so much lessened that she sleeps all night without waking the doctor says that the camp life will be the very best thing for her now and will probably complete her recovery oh joy joy cried the girls I need not say how gladly we followed the special prescription of our kind doctors nor add that we started at once oh and truth there is nobody within a mile of the camp can't I please can't I turn one little handspring just one little lady like one pleaded Polly dancing on one foot and chewing her sunbonnet string no dear you can't keep quiet and let me read Elsie would not let me tell you our plans any sooner lest the old story of a sudden ill turn would keep us at home and I think very likely that she longed to give the dear boys and girls a surprise we arrived at the burdens yesterday Elsie bore the journey exceedingly well but I would not take any risks and so we shall not drive over until day after tomorrow morning you needn't have hurried quite so fast Polly dear I venture to send the tent and its belongings ahead today so that Jack may get everything to writes before we arrive the mattress is just the size the girls ordered and of course I've told Elsie nothing about the proposed furnishing of her tent I am bringing my little China boy with me for I happen to think that with the burdens we shall be 14 at table Jin is not quite a success as a cook but he can at least wash dishes, wait a table and help hope yet in various ways while I shall be only too glad to share all your housekeeping cares if you have not escaped them even in the wilderness I shall be so glad to see you again and oh truth I am so happy so happy that please God I can keep my child after all the weary burden of dread is lifted off my heart and I feel young again just think of it my Elsie will be well and strong once more good to be true always your attached friend Janet Howard Mrs. Windship's voice quivered as she read the last words and Polly and Belle threw themselves into each other's arms and cried for sheer gladness come come dears I suppose you will make great preparations there's no time to lose one of you must find somebody to help Phillip unload the team Papa and the boys have gone fishing Lauren Marjorie went with them I think and Mrs. Windship bustled about literally unhospitable thoughts intent Polly tied on her sunbonnet with determination turned up her sleeves as if washing were the thing to be done and placed her arms akimbo first and foremost said she her eyes sparkling with excitement first and foremost I'm going to blow the horn certainly not said Aunt Truth are you crazy Polly it's scarcely ten o'clock and everybody would think it's dinner time and come home at once no they'd think something had happened to Dickie said Belle and that will bring them in still sooner of course I forgot but can't I blow it earlier than usual can't I blow it at half past eleven instead of twelve we can't do a thing without the boys and they may not come home until midnight unless we do something desperate oh delight there's Don SDM FHN and Phil has found Poncho to help unload isn't it lucky that we decided on the place for Elsie's tent and saved it in case she should ever come said Belle now Phillip and Poncho can set it up whenever they choose and isn't it fortunate that we three stayed at home today and refused to fish now we can plan everything and then all work together when they come back meanwhile Polly was tugging at an immense bundle literally tooth and nail as she alternated trembling clutches of the fingers with frantic bites at the offending knot like many of her performances the physical strength expended was all out of proportion to the result produced and one stroke of Phillip's knife accomplished more than all her ill-directed effort at length the bundle of awning cloth stood revealed oh isn't it beautiful she cried it will be the very prettiest tent in camp can't I blow the horn Luke Mama exclaimed Belle it is green and grey in those pretty broken stripes and the edge is cut in lovely and bound with green braid wanted the pretty among the trees and truth came out to join the admiring group oh screamed Polly there comes a piece of the floor they've sent it all made in three pieces what fun we'll have it all up and ready to sleep in before we blow the horn and here's a roll of straw matting said Phil depositing a huge bundle on the ground near the girls I'll cut the rope to save your teeth green and white planned exclaimed Belle well, Mrs. Howard did have her wits about her oh do let me blow the horn teased the irrepressible Polly here are a looking glass and a towel rack and a shaker rocking chair called Phillip guess they're going to say the rest of the summer yes of course they wouldn't want a looking glass if they were only going to stay a month or two laughed Belle dear Aunt Truth if you won't let me turn a single decorous little hen spring or blow the horn or do anything nice will you let us use all that new white mosquito netting Belle says that it has been in the storehouse for two years and it would be just the thing for decorating Elsie's tent why of course you may have it Polly and anything else you can find there I hear Dickie's voice in the distance perhaps the girls are coming Belle and Polly darted through the swarm of tents and looked up the narrow path that led to the brook sure enough Marjorie and Laura were strolling towards home with little Anne and Dick dangling behind after the manner of children Marjorie carried a small string of trout and Dick the inevitable tent pale in which he always kept an unfortunate frog or two the girls had discovered that he was in the habit of crowding the cover tightly over the pale and keeping his victims shut up for 24 hours after which he said they were nice and tame so very tame as it transpired that they generally gave up the ghost in a few hours after their release Marjorie had with difficulty persuaded him of his cruelty and the cover had been pierced with a certain number of air holes guess the loveliest thing that could possibly happen called Belle at the top of her voice Elsie has come answered Marjorie in a second nobody knew why let me hug her this minute with those fish laughed Polly no you'll have to wait until day after tomorrow and then your guess will be right isn't it almost too good to be true and she is almost well added Belle joyfully slipping her arm through Marjorie's and squeezing it in sheer delight Mrs. Howard says she is really and truly better oh if Elsie Howard in bed is the loveliest dearest thing in the world what will it be like to have her out of it and with us all in our good times has she always been ill since you knew her? asked Laura yes a terrible cold left her with weakness of the lungs and the doctor feared consumption but thought that she might possibly outgrow it entirely if she lived in a milder climate so Mrs. Howard left home and everybody she cared for and brought Elsie to Santa Barbara Papa has taken an interest in her from the first and as far as we girls are concerned it was love at first sight you never knew anybody like Elsie is she pretty? pretty cried Polly she's like an angel in a picture book interesting interesting said Belle in a tone that showed the word to be too feeble for the subject Elsie is more interesting than all the other girls other world put together popular popular exclaimed Marjorie taking her turn in the oral examination I don't know whether anybody can be popular who is always in bed but if it's popular to be adored by every man woman child and animal that comes anywhere near her why? the now see is popular and is she a favorite with boys girls? favorite said Belle why they think that she is simply perfect of course she has scarcely been able to sit up a week at a time for a year and naturally she has not seen many people but if you want a boy's opinion just ask Philip or Geoffrey I assure you Laura after you have known Elsie a while and have seen the impression she makes upon everybody you will want to go to bed and see if you can do likewise it isn't just a going to bed remarked Marjorie sagely and it isn't the prettiness either added Polly though if you saw Elsie asleep a flower in one hand the other under her cheek her hair strain over the pillow oh for hair that would stray anywhere you would expect every moment to see a halo above her head I don't believe it is because she is good that everybody admires her so said Laura I don't think goodness in itself is always so very interesting if Elsie had freckles and a snub nose don't mind me murmured Polly you would find that people would say less about her wonderful character there are things that puzzle me said Polly thoughtfully it seems to me that if I could contrive to be ever so good nobody would ever look for a halo around my head now is it my turned up nose and red hair that make me what I am or did what I am make my nose and hair what they are which we'll have to ask Aunt Shud said Marjorie that is too difficult a thing for us to answer nice I catch a big bullfrog Marjorie cried Dick his eyes shining with anticipation now I'll have as many as seven or eleven frogs and lots of horned toads when Elsie comes and she can help me play with him when the girls reached their tents again the last article had been taken from the team and Manuel had driven away the sound of Phil's hammer could be heard from the carpenter shop and Poncho was already laying the tent floor in a small open sunny space where the low boughs of a single sycamore hung so as to protect one of its corners leaving the rest to the full warmth of the sunshine that was to make Elsie entirely well again I am tired to death sighed Laura throwing herself down in a bamboo lounging chair such a tramp as we had and after all the boys insisted on going where Dr. Winship wouldn't allow us to follow so that we had to stay behind and fish with the children I wish I had stayed at home and read the colonel's daughter oh Laura remonstrated Marjorie think of that lovely pool with the forests of maiden hair growing all about it and poison oak gumbled Laura I know I walked into some of it and she'll look like a perfect fright for a week I shall never make a country girl it's no use for me to try it's no use for you to try walking four miles in high-heeled shoes my dear said Polly bluntly they are not high retorted Laura and if they are I don't care to look like a a cowboy even in the backwoods I'm an awful example sighed Polly seating herself on a stump in the front of the tent and elevating a very dusty little common-sense boot Sir Walter Rayleigh would never have allowed me to walk on his velvet cloak with that boot would he girls oh wasn't that romantic though and don't I wish that I had been Queen Elizabeth you've got the hair said Laura thank you I had forgotten Elizabeth's hair was red so it was this is my court train snatching a tablecloth that hung on a bush nearby and pinning it to her waist in the twinkling of an eye this is my Farthingale dangling her sun bonnet from her belt this my scepter seizing a Japanese umbrella this my crown inverting a bright tin plate upon her curly head she is just alighting from her chariot thus the courtiers turn pale thus why don't you do it what shall be done the royal feet must not be wet go round the puddle print me Ludd Ode's body for sooth certainly not remove the puddle she says huddley to her subjects they are just about to do so when out from behind a neighboring Shapro Bush stocks a beautiful young prince with cold black hair and rose red cheeks he wears a rich velvet cloak glittering with embroidery he sees not her crown her hair out shines it he sees not her scepter her tiny hand conceals it he sees not save the loathly mud he strips off his cloak and floats it on the puddle with a haughty but gracious bend of her head the queen accepts the courtesy crosses the puddle thus waves her scepter thus and saying you shall hear from me by return mail me Ludd she vanishes within the castle the next morning she makes her Walter British minister to Florida he departs at once with a cargo of tobacco which he exchanges for sweet potatoes and everybody is happy ever after the girls were convulsed with mirth at this historical romance and as Mrs. Winship wiped the tears of merriment from her eyes Polly sees the golden opportunity and dropped on her knees beside her please and truth we can't get the white mosquito netting because Dr. Winship has the key to the storehouse in his pocket and so may I blow the horn Mrs. Winship gave her consent in despair and Polly went to the oak tree where the horn hung and blew all the strength of her lungs into blast after blast for five minutes that's all I needed returning that was an escape valve and I shall be ladylike and well behave the rest of the day end of chapter 5