Hill Grace Brooks
The Corner House Girls on a Tour / Where they went, what they saw, and what they found
CHAPTER I A RED LETTER DAY INDEED
There was a deal of bustle and a twittering like an eager flock of sparrows in the big kitchen of the old Corner House, which stood facing Main Street in Milton, but with its long side and rear yard and garden running far back on Willow Street.
The four Kenway girls had the room all to themselves at this early hour on Saturday morning, for Mrs. MacCall and Aunt Sarah Maltby had not yet come downstairs, while Linda, the maid, had deserted the kitchen and pantry altogether for the time being.
Ruth, the eldest and most sedate of the sisters, was filling sandwiches at the dresser and such a variety as there was of them!
Chicken, with mayonnaise and a lettuce leaf; pink ham cut thin and decorated with little golden dabs of mustard; peanut butter sandwiches; nut and cheese sandwiches, the filling nestling in a salad leaf, too; tuna fish, with narrow slices of red, red Spanish peppers decorating it; and of course sardines, carefully split and laid between soda crackers. What picnic lunch would be complete without sardines?
Agnes, the next oldest to Ruth and the beauty of the family, was slicing bread as exactly as though it were a problem in geometry and in such quantity that Tess declared it looked as though they were to feed an army.
Tess herself was seriously attending to the boiling of two dozen eggs in a big saucepan.
Though why you need to watch em so closely I cant see, complained Agnes. There are other things you might be doing when there is so much to do goodness knows! Those eggs wont get away.
No, joined in Dot, the youngest of the Corner House girls, and quite seriously, too. No. It isnt like boiling lobsters.
Right, Dottums, chuckled Agnes, recovering from her vexation immediately. Eggs are an entirely different kind of shellfish.
Well, said the little girl, explaining, Mrs. Adams boiled some raw lobsters the other day, and one hopped right out of the pot on to the floor and started for the door it really did!
Oo-ee! gasped Tess, attracted for a moment from the bobbing eggs by this statement. The poor thing!
Whos a poor thing Mrs. Adams? asked Ruth, laughing gayly.
Why, no, said Tess, who was nothing if not tender-hearted. The lobster.
Goodness! exclaimed Agnes. Do you spose it hurts a lobster to be boiled?
Why doesnt it? demanded Tess, promptly.
Cause it has a shell, ventured Dot.
Why because they always do boil them, said Agnes, rather at a loss for an answer to Tess question.
Sometimes they broil them, said the oldest sister, smiling.
Well, theyre used to it, anyway, declared Agnes, with conviction.
I I dont believe anybody could get used to being boiled, observed Tess, slowly. Look at Sammy Pinkney.
Where? demanded Agnes, jumping. I hope that horrid child isnt coming over so early. I hoped wed get away without having him around.
Oh, my! murmured Dot. You know hes just got over the scarlet fever.
But he hasnt got over being a nuisance, declared the older girl.
I didnt mean that Sammy was really here to look at, explained the serious Tess. I meant I meant
Well, what did you mean? asked Agnes, who was inclined to be impatient.
She meant, consider Sammy, didnt you, Tessie? suggested Ruth, kindly.
Why yes.
Oh! Were you taking him for an example? cried Agnes. But Sammy hasnt ever been boiled although maybe he ought to have been.
No; he hasnt been boiled, said the serious Tess, still watching the eggs bobbing in the boiling water. But hes punished lots of times at school, I mean. And he doesnt seem to get used to it. He hollers just as loud now as the first time I ever heard him.
Did the lobster holler? chuckled Agnes. Did it, Dot?
But Dot who was not allowed to mess in with the lunch had found another subject for consideration. She had been looking at Ruth, dexterously opening a second can of sardines. Now, when the cover was laid back and the oil drained off, the smallest girl pointed a dimpled finger at the contents of the can.
Whats the matter, honey? asked Ruth, smiling down at the serious face of the fairy-like Dot. What is it?
Why, Ruthie, said Dot, wonderingly, I was only thinking if that middle fish wanted to turn over, what a lot of trouble it would have!
Amid the laughter of the two older girls at this, the door banged open and a boy with a mop of flaxen hair a regular whitehead and a football cut at that burst into the room.
My goodness me, girls! arent you ready yet? he demanded. And its half-past seven.
The eggs are, Tess declared, the first to speak, for she had not been laughing.
Well, then, said the boy, you and I, Tess, will just take the eggs and go.
Whats the matter, Neale ONeil? Wont your horse stand? drawled Agnes, tossing her head.
We would have been ready long ago if it had not been for you, Neale, said Ruth, promptly.
Hows that? Ive been up since five. And the cars right here at the side gate. Cracky! its a scrumptious auto, girls. I dont believe there ever was a finer.
When our Mr. Howbridge does anything, he always does it right, proclaimed Tess, giving up the guardianship of the eggs to Ruth. And Mr. Howbridge had the car built for us.
But we wouldnt ever have had it, put in Dot, eager to tell all she knew, if Mrs. Eland and Miss Pepperill hadnt given us the money cause we found their Uncle Lemon Adens money.
Oh, goodness! gasped Tess. Lem-u-el, Dot!
But Dot ignored the correction. It was awfully nice of them to give us the car because we found the fortune in our garret.
Lots you did towards finding it, chuckled Neale ONeil.
Id like to know why I didnt help find it! cried the smallest Corner House girl, indignantly. I saw it first so there! I opened the book it was hid in and I thought it was pitchers.
Say! that isnt getting us anywhere, began the boy again. Cant you hurry? Just think! the first ride in your car!
Dont remind me, gasped Agnes, cutting a crooked slice. My nerves are all jumping now like like a delightful toothache!
Glory! listen to her, laughed Neale. But say, Miss Ruthiford Ten-ways, why do you say that it is my fault that you are not all ready?
Because we have to put up lunch enough to satisfy your appetite, said Ruth, running cold water on the eggs from the open faucet.
Well! I like that! said Neale.
I fancy you will, sonny, said Agnes, looking at him slyly. There are lots of goodies in it.
Now run and get your hats and wraps, children, commanded Ruth seizing the last two slices of bread Agnes had cut. That will do, Aggie. Leave a little bread for the folks to eat to-day while were gone. That basket is all packed, Neale, and you may take it out and put it in the tonneau.
Oh, my! gasped Agnes, clasping her hands. Doesnt that sound fine?
What sounds fine! asked her boy chum, surreptitiously putting the last crumb of a broken sandwich he had found into his mouth.
The way Ruth said tonneau. So so Frenchy and automobily!
Why, Aggie! gasped Tess, in amazement, before following Dot out of the kitchen, youre making up words just like Dot does.
I feel like making up words, laughed Agnes, who had been crazy for a car for months and months! Well all be talking about tonneaus, and carbureters, and gas, and wiring, and differentials, and
And equilaterals, and isosceles triangles, and all that, scoffed Neale. Youll know a hot lot about an automobile, Agamemnon.
Come, young man! exclaimed Ruth, tartly, for she was very exact with boys, feeling sure that she did not approve of them much, suppose you take the basket out to the car and these wraps and this coffee and the little nursery icebox with the milk bottles and
Hold on! Hold on! yelled Neale ONeil. What do you think I have as many arms as a spider? I cant do it all in one trip.
Well, you might make a beginning, suggested Ruth. Come, Aggie. Dont moon there all day.
Im not, said her next youngest sister. Im thinking.
Whats the difference? demanded Neale, filling his arms with several of the things indicated by Ruth and making for the door.
I was thinking, said Agnes, quite seriously for her, what a difference this is from what we were before we came to Milton and the old Corner House to live.
Neale had gone out. Ruth looked at her with softer eyes. Ruth was not exactly pretty, but she had a very sweet face. Everybody said so. Now she looked her understanding at Agnes.
I know, dear I know, she said, in her low, full, sweet voice. This is like another world.
Or a dream, said Agnes. Do do you suppose well ever wake up, Ruthie, and find out its all been make-believe?
Ruth laughed outright at that and went over and kissed her. Dont let your imagination run away with you, the older sister said. It is all real very real indeed. What could be more real than an automobile and of our very own?
Dot came dancing into the room hugging a doll in her arms and cheerfully humming a school song.
There! exclaimed Agnes, coming out of the clouds, I suppose that disreputable Alice-doll has got to go along. It does look awful.
Dot stopped her song at once and her lips pouted.
She isnt dis disreputble she isnt! she cried, stormily. Shes only sick. How would you like it, Aggie Kenway, if youd been buried alive and with dried apples and had had your complexion spoiled?
Dot was usually the most peaceful of mortals; but Agnes had touched a sore spot.
Never mind; you shall take her, love, Ruth said.
I suppose if we want to go off on a real tour by and by this coming vacation Dotll have to lug that Alice-doll, grumbled Agnes. Suppose we meet nice people at some of the hotels we stop at, and other little girls have dolls? Dots will look as though she came from Meadow Street. Meadow Street was in a poor section of Milton.
I dont care, grumbled Dot; shes going.
She ought to go a hospital first, declared Agnes.
Who ought to go to a hospital? demanded Neale, coming in again.
My Alice-doll, Neale, cried Dot, running to him, sure of sympathy of a kind, at least.
Well, said the boy, why not? If folks go to hospitals and get cured, why not dolls?
Oh, Neale ONeil! gasped Dot, hugging her cherished doll closer.
Just think how nice Mrs. Eland was to folks in her hospital, went on Neale, his eyes twinkling. And Doctor Forsyth. A hospital is a mighty fine place.
But but what would they do to my Alice-doll? asked the smallest girl, seriously.