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DOROTHY
ON A HOUSE-BOAT
_By_
EVELYN RAYMOND
ILLUSTRATED
New York
THE PLATTE & PECK CO.
THE
DOROTHY BOOKS
By EVELYN RAYMOND
These stories of an American girl by an American author have made
"Dorothy" a household synonym for all that is fascinating. Truth and
realism are stamped on every page. The interest never flags, and is
ofttimes intense. No more happy choice can be made for gift books, so
sure are they to win approval and please not only the young in years,
but also "grown-ups" who are young in heart and spirit.
Dorothy
Dorothy at Skyrie
Dorothy's Schooling
Dorothy's Travels
Dorothy's House Party
Dorothy in California
Dorothy on a Ranch
Dorothy's House Boat
Dorothy at Oak Knowe
Dorothy's Triumph
Dorothy's Tour
_Illustrated, 12mo, Cloth
Price per Volume, 50 Cents_
COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY
THE PLATT & PECK CO.
[Illustration: "EPHRAIM, DID YOU EVER LIVE IN A HOUSE-BOAT?"--P 15
_Dorothy's House-Boat_]
FOREWORD.
Those who have followed the story of Dorothy Calvert's life thus
far will remember that it has been full of interest and many
adventures--pleasant and otherwise. Beginning as a foundling left upon
the steps of a little house in Brown street, Baltimore, she was
adopted by its childless owners, a letter-carrier and his wife. When
his health failed she removed with them to the Highlands of the
Hudson. There followed her "Schooling" at a fashionable academy; her
vacation "Travels" in beautiful Nova Scotia; her "House Party" at the
home of her newly discovered great aunt, Mrs. Betty Calvert; their
winter together "In California"; a wonderful summer "On a Ranch" in
Colorado; and now the early autumn has found the old lady and the
girl once more in the ancestral home of the Calverts. Enjoying their
morning's mail in the pleasant library of old Bellvieu, they are both
astonished by the contents of one letter which offers for Dorothy's
acceptance the magnificent gift of a "House-Boat." What follows the
receipt of this letter is now to be told.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
FOREWORD 9
I. A BIG GIFT FOR A SMALL MAID 11
II. INVITATIONS TO A CRUISE OF LOVING KINDNESS 25
III. THE DIFFICULTIES OF GETTING UNDER WAY 44
IV. MATTERS ARE SETTLED 62
V. THE STORM AND WHAT FOLLOWED 76
VI. A MULE AND MELON TRANSACTION 92
VII. VISITORS 105
VIII. THE COLONEL'S REVELATION 121
IX. FISH AND MONKEYS 138
X. A MERE ANNE ARUNDEL GUST 154
XI. A MORNING CALL OF MONKEYS 165
XII. UNDER THE PERSIMMON TREE 180
XIII. WHAT LAY UNDER THE WALKING FERN 195
XIV. THE REDEMPTION OF A PROMISE 213
XV. IN THE HEART OF AN ANCIENT WOOD 229
XVI. WHEN THE MONKEYS' CAGE WAS CLEANED 243
XVII. CONCLUSION 254
CHAPTER I
A BIG GIFT FOR A SMALL MAID.
"Well, of all things!" exclaimed Mrs. Betty Calvert, shaking her white
head and tossing her hands in a gesture of amazement. Then, as the
letter she had held fell to the floor, her dark eyes twinkled with
amusement and she smilingly demanded: "Dorothy, do you want an
elephant?"
The girl had been reading her own letters, just come in the morning's
mail, but she paused to stare at her great-aunt and to ask in turn:
"Aunt Betty, what do you mean?"
"Because if you do here's the chance of your life to get one!"
answered the old lady, motioning toward the fallen letter.
Dolly understood that she was to pick it up and read it, and, having
done so, remarked:
"Auntie dear, this doesn't say anything about an elephant, as I can
see."
"Amounts to the same thing. The idea of a house-boat as a gift to a
girl like you! My cousin Seth Winters must be getting into his dotage!
Of course, girlie, I don't mean that fully, but isn't it a queer
notion? What in the world can you, could you, do with a house-boat?"
"Live in it, sail in it, have the jolliest time in it! Why not,
Auntie, darling?"
Dorothy's face was shining with eagerness and she ran to clasp Mrs.
Calvert with coaxing arms. "Why not, indeed, Aunt Betty? You've been
shut up in this hot city all summer long; you haven't had a bit of an
outing, anywhere; it would do you lots of good to go sailing about on
the river or bay; and--and--do say 'yes,' please, to dear Mr. Seth's
offer! Oh! do!"
The old lady kissed the uplifted face, merrily exclaiming:
"Don't pretend it's for my benefit, little wheedler! The idea of such
a thing is preposterous--simply preposterous! Run away and write the
silly man that we've no use for house-boats, but if he does happen to
have an elephant on hand, a white elephant, we might consider
accepting it as a gift! We could have it kept at the park Zoo, maybe,
and some city youngsters might like that."
Dorothy's face clouded. She had become accustomed to receiving rich
gifts, during her Summer on a Ranch, as the guest of the wealthy
Fords, and now to have a house-boat offered her was only one more of
the wonderful things life brought to her.
Going back to her seat beside the open window she pushed her own
letters aside, for the moment, to re-read that of her old teacher
and guardian, during her life on the mountain by the Hudson. She had
always believed Mr. Winters to be the wisest of men, justly entitled
to his nickname of the "Learned Blacksmith." He wasn't one to do
anything without a good reason and, of course, Aunt Betty's remarks
about him had been only in jest. That both of them understood; and
Dorothy now searched for the reason of this surprising gift. This was
the letter:
"Dear Cousin Betty:
"Mr. Blank has failed in business, just as you warned me he
would, and all I can recover of the money I loaned him is
what is tied up in a house-boat, one of his many
extravagances--though, in this case, not a great one.
"Of course, I have no use for such a floating structure on
top of a mountain and I want to give it to our little
Dorothy. As she has now become a shareholder in a mine with
a small income of her own, she can afford to accept the boat
and I know she will enjoy it. I have forwarded the deed of
gift to my lawyers in your town and trust your own tangled
business affairs are coming out right in the end. All well
at Deerhurst. Jim Barlow came down to say that Dr. Sterling
is going abroad for a few months and that the manse will be
closed. I wish the boy were ready for college, but he isn't.
Also, that he wasn't too proud to accept any help from Mr.
Ford--but he is. He says the discovery of that mine on that
gentleman's property was an 'accident' on his own part, and
he 'won't yet awhile.' He wants 'to earn his own way
through the world' and, from present appearances, I think
he'll have a chance to try. He's on the lookout now for
another job."
There followed a few more sentences about affairs in the highland
village where the writer lived, but not a doubt was expressed as to
the fitness of his extraordinary gift to a little girl, nor of its
acceptance by her. Indeed, it was a puzzled, disappointed face which
was now raised from the letter and an appealing glance that was cast
upon the old lady in the chair by the desk.
Meanwhile Aunt Betty had been doing some thinking of her own. She
loved novelty with all the zest of a girl and she was fond of the
water. Mr. Winters's offer began to seem less absurd. Finally, she
remarked:
"Well, dear, you may leave the writing of that note for a time. I'm
obliged to go down town on business, this morning, and after my
errands are done we will drive to that out-of-the-way place where this
house-boat is moored and take a look at it. Are all those letters from
your summer-friends? For a small person you have established a big
correspondence, but, of course, it won't last long. Now run and tell
Ephraim to get up the carriage. I'll be ready in twenty minutes."
Dorothy hastily piled her notes on the wide window-ledge and skipped
from the room, clapping her hands and singing as she went. To her
mind Mrs. Calvert's consent to visit the house-boat was almost proof
that it would be accepted. If it were--Ah! glorious!
"Ephraim, did you ever live in a house-boat?" she demanded, bursting
in upon the old colored coachman, engaged in his daily task of
"shinin' up de harness."
He glanced at her over his "specs," then as hastily removed them and
stuffed them into his pocket. It was his boast that he could see as
"well as evah" and needed no such aids to his sight. He hated to grow
old and those whom he served so faithfully rarely referred to the
fact.
So Dorothy ignored the "specs," though she couldn't help smiling to
see one end of their steel frame sticking out from the pocket, while
she repeated to his astonished ears her question.
"Evah lib in a house-boat? Evah kiss a cat's lef' hind foot? Nebah
heered o' no such contraption. Wheah's it at--dat t'ing?"
"Away down at some one of the wharves and we're going to see it
right away. Oh! I forget. Aunt Betty wants the carriage at the door
in twenty minutes. In fifteen, now, I guess because 'time flies'
fairly away from me. But, Ephy, dear, try to put your mind to the
fact that likely, I guess, maybe, you and I and everybody will go
and live on the loveliest boat, night and day, and every day go
sailing--sailing--sailing--on pretty rivers, between green banks
and heaps of flowers, and----"
Ephraim rose from his stool and waved her away.
"Gwan erlong wid yo' foolishness honey gell! Yo' dreamin', an' my Miss
Betty ain' gwine done erlow no such notionses. My Miss Betty done got
sense, she hab, bress her! She ain' gwine hab not'in' so scan'lous
in yo' raisin' as dat yeah boat talk. Gwan an' hunt yo' bunnit, if
you-all 'spects to ride in ouah bawoosh."
Dorothy always exploded in a gale of laughter to hear Ephraim's
efforts to pronounce "barouche," as he liked to call the old carriage;
and she now swept a mocking curtsey to his pompous dismissal, as she
hurried away to put on her "bunnit" and coat. To Ephraim, any sort of
feminine headgear was simply a "bunnit" and every wrap was a "shawl."
Soon the fat horses drew the glistening carriage through the gateway
of Bellvieu, the fine old residence of the Calverts, and down through
the narrow, crowded streets of the business part of old Baltimore. To
loyal Mrs. Betty, who had passed the greater part of her long life
in the southern city, it was very dear and even beautiful; but to
Dorothy's young eyes it seemed, on that early autumn day, very
"smelly" and almost squalid. Her mind still dwelt upon visions of
sunny rivers and green fields, and she was too anxious for her aunt's
acceptance of Mr. Winters's gift to keep still.
Fidgetting from side to side of the carriage seat, where she had been
left to wait, the impatient girl felt that Aunt Betty's errands were
endless. Even the fat horses, used to standing quietly on the street,
grew restless during a long delay at the law offices of Kidder and
Kidder, Mrs. Calvert's men of business. This, the lady had said, would
be the last stop by the way; and when she at length emerged from the
building, she moved as if but half conscious of what she was doing.
Her face was troubled and looked far older than when she had left the
carriage; and, with sudden sympathy and pity, Dorothy's mood changed.
"Aunt Betty, aren't you well? Let's go straight home, then, and not
bother about that boat."
Mrs. Calvert smiled and bravely put her own worries behind her.
"Thank you, dear, for your consideration, but 'the last's the best of
all the game,' as you children say. I've begun to believe that this
boat errand of ours may prove so. Ephraim, drive to Halcyon Point."
If his mistress had bidden him drive straight into the Chesapeake, the
old coachman would have attempted to obey; but he could not refrain
from one glance of dismay as he received this order. He wouldn't have
risked his own respectability by a visit to such a "low down, ornery"
resort, alone; but if Miss Betty chose to go there it was all right.
Her wish was "sutney cur'us" but being hers not to be denied.
And now, indeed, did Dorothy find the city with its heat a "smelly"
place, but a most interesting one as well. The route lay through the
narrowest of streets, where tumble-down old houses swarmed with
strange looking people. To her it all seemed like some foreign
country, with its Hebrew signs on the walls, its bearded men of many
nations, and its untidy women leaning from the narrow windows,
scolding the dirty children in the gutters beneath.
But after a time, the lane-like streets gave place to wider ones, the
air grew purer, and soon a breath from the salt water beyond refreshed
them all. Almost at once, it seemed, they had arrived; and Dorothy
eagerly sought to tell which of the various craft clustered about the
Point was her coveted house-boat.
The carriage drew up beside a little office on the pier and a man came
out. He courteously assisted Aunt Betty to descend, while he promptly
pointed out a rather squat, but pretty, boat which he informed her was
the "Water Lily," lately the property of Mr. Blank, but now consigned
to one Mr. Seth Winters, of New York, to be held at the commands of
Miss Dorothy Calvert.
"A friend of yours, Madam?" he inquired, concluding that this stately
old lady could not be the "Miss" in question and wholly forgetting
that the little maid beside her might possibly be such.
Aunt Betty laid her hand on Dolly's shoulder and answered:
"This is Miss Dorothy Calvert and the 'Water Lily' is a gift from Mr.
Winters to her. Can we go on board and inspect?"
The gentleman pursed his lips to whistle, he was so surprised, but
instead exclaimed:
"What a lucky girl! The 'Water Lily' is the most complete craft of its
kind I ever saw. Mr. Blank spared no trouble nor expense in fitting
her up for a summer home for his family. She is yacht-shaped and
smooth-motioned; and even her tender is better than most house-boats
in this country. Blank must be a fanciful man, for he named the tender
'The Pad,' meaning leaf, I suppose, and the row-boat belonging is 'The
Stem.' Odd, isn't it, Madam?"
"Rather; but will just suit this romantic girl, here," she replied;
almost as keen pleasure now lighting her face as was shining from
Dorothy's. At her aunt's words she caught the lady's hand and kissed
it rapturously, exclaiming:
"Then you do mean to let me accept it, you precious, darling dear! You
do, you do!"
They all laughed, even Ephraim, who was close at his lady's heels,
acting the stout body-guard who would permit nothing to harm her in
this strange place.
The Water Lily lay lower in the water than the dock and Mrs. Calvert
was carefully helped down the gang plank to its deck. Another plank
rested upon the top of the cabin, or main room of the house-boat, and
Dorothy sped across this and hurried down the steep little winding
stair, leading from it to the lower deck, to join in her aunt's
inspection of the novel "ship."
Delighted astonishment hushed for the time her nimble tongue. Then her
exclamations burst forth:
"It's so big!"
"About one hundred feet long, all told, and eighteen wide;" the wharf
master explained.
"It's all furnished, just like a really, truly house!"
"Indeed, yes; with every needful comfort but not one superfluous
article. See this, please. The way the 'bedrooms' are shut off;"
continued the gentleman, showing how the three feet wide window-seats
were converted into sleeping quarters. Heavy sail cloth had been
shaped into partitions, and these fastened to ceiling and side wall
separated the cots into cosy little staterooms. Extra seats, pulled
from under the first ones, furnished additional cots, if needed.
The walls of the saloon had been sunk below the deck line, giving
ample head room, and the forward part was of solid glass, while
numerous side-windows afforded fine views in every direction. The roof
of this large room could be covered by awnings and became a charming
promenade deck.
Even Aunt Betty became speechless with pleasure as she wandered over
the beautiful boat, examining every detail, from the steam-heating
arrangements to the tiny "kitchen," which was upon the "tender"
behind.
"I thought the tug, or towing boat was always in front," she remarked
at length.
"Mr. Blank found this the best arrangement. The 'Pad' has a steam
engine and its prow fastened to the stern of the Lily propels it
ahead. None of the smoke comes into the Lily and that, too, was why
the galley, or kitchen, was built on the smaller boat. A little bridge
is slung between the two for foot passage and--Well, Madam, I can't
stop admiring the whole affair. It shows what a man's brain can do
in the way of invention, when his heart is in it, too. I fancy that
parting with his Water Lily was about the hardest trial poor old Blank
had to bear."
Silence fell on them all and Dorothy's face grew very sober. It was a
wonderful thing that this great gift should come to her but it grieved
her to know it had so come by means of another's misfortune. Aunt
Betty, too, grew more serious and she asked the practical question:
"Is it a very expensive thing to run? Say for about three months?"
The official shrugged his shoulders, replying:
"That depends on what one considers expensive. It would smash my
pocket-book to flinders. The greatest cost would be the engineer's
salary. One might take the job for three dollars a day and keep.
He might--I don't know. Then the coal, the power for the electric
lights--the lots of little things that crop up to eat up cash as if it
were good bread and butter. Ah! yes. It's a lovely toy--for those who
can afford it. I only wish I could!"
The man's remarks ended in a sigh and he looked at Dorothy as if he
envied her. His expression hurt her, somehow, and she turned away her
eyes, asking a practical question of her own:
"Would three hundred dollars do it?"
"Yes--for a time, at least. But----"
He broke off abruptly and helped Aunt Betty to ascend the plank to
the wharf, while Dorothy followed, soberly, and Ephraim with all
the pomposity he could assume.
There Methuselah Bonaparte Washington, the small colored boy who had
always lived at Bellvieu and now served as Mrs. Betty's page as well
as footman, descended from his perch and untied the horses from the
place where careful Ephraim had fastened them. His air was a perfect
imitation of the old man's and sat so funnily upon his small person
that the wharf master chuckled and Dorothy laughed outright.
"Metty," as he was commonly called, disdained to see the mirth he
caused but climbed to his seat behind, folded his arms as well as he
could for his too big livery, and became as rigid as a statue--or as
all well-conducted footmen should be.
Then good-byes were exchanged, after the good old Maryland fashion
and the carriage rolled away.
As it vanished from view the man left behind sighed again and clenched
his fists, muttering:
"This horrible, uneven world! Why should one child have so much and my
Elsa--nothing! Elsa, my poor, unhappy child!"
Then he went about his duties and tried to forget Dorothy's beauty,
perfect health, and apparent wealth.
For some time neither Mrs. Calvert nor Dorothy spoke; then the girl
said:
"Aunt Betty, Jim Barlow could tend that engine. And he's out of a
place. Maybe----"
"Yes, dear, I've been thinking of him, too. Somehow none of our plans
seem quite perfect without good, faithful James sharing them."
"And that poor Mr. Blank----"
"A very dishonest scoundrel, my child, according to all accounts.
Don't waste pity on him."
"But his folks mayn't be scoundrels. He loved them, too, same as
we love or he wouldn't have built such a lovely Water Lily. Auntie,
that boat would hold a lot of people, wouldn't it?"
"I suppose so," answered the lady, absently.
"When we go house-boating may I invite anybody I choose to go with
us?"
"I haven't said yet that we would go!"
"But you've looked it and that's better."
Just then an automobile whizzed by and the horses pretended to be
afraid. Mrs. Calvert was frightened and leaned forward anxiously till
Ephraim had brought them down to quietness again. Then she settled
back against her cushions and became once more absorbed in her own
sombre thoughts. She scarcely heard and wholly failed to understand
Dorothy's repeated question:
"May I, dear Aunt Betty?"
She answered carelessly:
"Why, yes, child. You may do what you like with your own."
But that consent, so rashly given, was to bring some strange
adventures in its train.