WHO’S GOING TO HAPPY HILLS?
“Hello, Finn--where’er yeh goin’ in sech a hurry?” asked a newsboy of a
pal who was hurrying past.
“Oh--hello, Skelly! I’m lookin’ fer that chap what knows about them
passes fer camp.”
“Hully chee, Finn! Yeh don’t tell me ye’re goin’ to that Sunday School
place--what?” jeered the boy called Skelly.
“’Tain’t a prayer-meetin’ camp, neider! It’s a regerler camp fer boys
and gals. I was told there’s not a bit of Sunday School stunts goin’ on
there,” replied Finn, defensively.
“Huh, all the same, you’ll come back actin’ like a little lady! Dey’ll
cure yuh of cigarettes, matchin’ pennies and all the udder fun we’ve
had,” scorned Skelly, bitterly.
“See here, now! I ain’t wantin’ the ticket fer meself--it’s only fer
my sick sister, yuh know. The Doc said she’d got to git out of that
hot, dark room in the tenement, and where kin I keep her--on’y in a
camp like this is?” explained the worried brother to the leader of the
Ludlow Street gang.
“Oh, I see,” returned Skelly, apologetically, “An’ so yeh want to find
Ike who’s got the address of the place!”
“That’s it! Have yeh seen him this mornin’?” asked Finn.
“He went uptown to see the man at the printin’ office. He tol’ me all
the tickets he had on hand were given out and he needed more. Why don’t
yuh trot up and see the man yourself instead of hangin’ ’round waitin’
fer Ike?” ventured Skelly.
“Guess I will--where is it?”
Skelly thereupon dug down into the pockets of a ragged pair of trousers
and finally brought to view a dirty scrap of paper. Upon it was
scrawled: “Benjamin Talmage, Manager of Blue Bird Camp at Happy Hills,
354 Fourth Avenue, New York.”
“Dat’s up near 23rd Street, yuh know,” Skelly added, as Finn read aloud
the address.
“I’ll git a hitch on a truck goin’ up, and try to see the boss right
away,” said Finn, his face expressing relief at having some tangible
plan to act upon.
Thanks and the verbal expression of gratitude were unknown to the
street Arabs of New York, but Skelly knew from Finn’s face that he
appreciated the information, and that was all that was required of a
friend.
A large auto-truck sped past the boys, and Finn was soon perched on the
tailboard, waving his old cap at Skelly. The truck turned in at 23rd
Street to go its way to the East Side, so Finn jumped off and scanned
the numbers of the tall office buildings as he started uptown.
“Hah! Here it is! Hully chee, what a swell shanty!” said he to himself
as he stood wondering whether to enter the tiled hall. Would the
elevator starter permit a boy so ragged and dirty to go up in one of
those shiny lifts?
He still pondered this momentous question when Ike ran out and almost
into him.
“Looka where yer goin’, why don’che?” grumbled Finn, then seeing that
it was Ike, he clapped him soundly on the back.
“Aw, I say, Ikey! Gim’me a ticket fer me sister?”
“Look out what’che crackin’, Finny! Dat’s my back lung what sounds
so holler when you beat it,” grinned Ike, the good-natured boy from
Rivington Street who had won fame as a ticket-distributor for Happy
Hills.
“Got one to spare?” anxiously continued Finn.
“Nope! Yeh got’ta apply personal. I’ll go up wid yeh if you wants one
bad,” offered Ike.
“Come along den--I need yeh to help talk;” so the two were soon going
up.
After leaving the elevator, the two boys walked down a very long
corridor with offices on either side. Said Ikey:
“Now, you’se wants to be careful how you’se talk in here, see? Mr.
Ta’mage is a fine chentlman and don’t like no slang. Mebbe yeh better
keep yer mouth shet altogether an’ let me do the talkin’--cuz, yeh
know, Finn, yeh do spill an awful lot of slang widger English!”
Finn was properly impressed and consented to have Ikey do all the
talking. By this time the boys reached the door leading to the suite of
offices they sought.
“Please, ma’am, tell Mr. Ta’mage Ikey Einstein is back yet--Micky Finn,
too, wants to make his acquaintance,” said Ikey to the pretty telephone
operator who sat near the door.
“Yank off yer cap, Finn--hurry up quick, before she sees it!” hissed
Ikey in his companion’s ear as they stood waiting for an answer. Ikey
had removed his apology for a hat when entering.
“Mr. Talmage says will you be seated, he’ll be out in a moment,”
announced the girl, with a smile at the young visitors.
Ikey knew the particular bench meant for waiting callers, and silently
led Finn to it. No sooner were they seated than the door by which they
had just entered was flung open and a number of children of their own
age came in.
“Hello, Miss Johnson! Uncle Ben in?” called the youngest boy in the
group.
“He’s busy now, and has two waiting to see him,” was the young lady’s
reply after she had acknowledged Don’s greeting--for the boy was our
old friend and favorite, Don Starr, and his companions were no less
than the officers of the Blue Bird and Bobolink Publishing Society
that issued the monthly magazine for Little Citizens.
At the nod of Miss Johnson’s head in the direction of the two who were
waiting, Don spun around and recognized one of them.
“Well, well, if this isn’t our friend Ikey!” said Don, in his tone and
manners for all the world like a grown man, as he caught Ikey’s hand
and shook it heartily.
The other children--Ned and Ruth Talmage, Meredith, Jinks, Lavinia, and
Dot Starr, turned at Don’s words to watch the two boys.
“Where under the sun did Don meet that boy?” whispered Lavinia to her
brother Meredith.
“Say, Vene, where does Don find anything he wants to get hold of!”
returned Meredith, chuckling at his younger brother.
“I know!” now declared Dot Starr, Don’s twin sister.
The others waited for her to explain, so she placed a hand at the side
of her mouth to prevent the two strange boys from hearing what she
whispered.
“They are newsboys who first heard of us at the ‘Tree of Light’ last
Christmas. Ikey is the thin one and he was at that Easter Egg Picnic
in Van Cortlandt Park, too. That’s where Don met him; Ikey had such a
lot of eggs that we asked where he got all of them, ’cause we knew he
couldn’t have had that many to start with. And he told----”
“S-sh! Not so loud, Dot! He’ll hear you. What did he tell you?”
interpolated Jinks.
“Why, you know he works in a newspaper printing place where they hire
boys to clean up messes of inks and trash, and run errands, too. Ikey
got a lot of free tickets from the printer to some lecture and he
traded them in, a ticket for every egg he could get. Then he told Don
he was going to sell those eggs downtown to his friends.”
“Did he?” asked Ruth, surprised that anyone would want to sell Easter
Eggs.
“I’m going over and find out--I guess that’s what Don is talking about
now,” replied Dot, joining her twin brother.
“Say, Dot, Ikey just told me he made 56 cents on those Easter eggs, and
now he’s set up in business--newspaper business of his own. He wants
me to go in as his partner--what do you think of it?” said Don in a low
voice, for fear his brother or Jinks might overhear the plan.
“Pooh! You couldn’t leave Oakdale for a newspaper business, and what’s
the good of having a business if you can’t look after it yourself?”
replied Dot.
“He could yust invest his money an’ I’d look after it,” hurriedly
explained Ikey, all for business.
“If Don looked after all he ought to at home, he’d have more interests
than he could take care of. No sir! You leave Ikey Einstein to manage
his own investment!” decided Dot, the practical.
“You’re jealous ’cause you were left out--that’s what!” said Don,
impatiently, as Dot pulled him back to his friends.
Uncle Ben came out just then, and shook hands with his Oakdale friends.
“Just go in that director’s room until I finish talking to these two
young men, will you?”
So the little Talmages and Starrs and Jinks left Uncle Ben with Ikey
and Micky Finn.
“Mr. Ta’mage, dis newspaper boy’s got a bad-off sister to which a Doc
says she must get away quick to the country fer fresh air or a grave.
Now Finn--he’s Micky Finn, you know, an’ a fren’ of mine--says he ain’t
got no country place an’ neider have we got a cemetery lot if Nelly
goes and dies, but mebbe you kin let her come right away, quick, to
Happy Hills so she kin get well and not need a grave.”
Ikey told the story in one breath so that at the last he was not very
distinct, but Uncle Ben knew the story--there were so many, many more
just like it in the city! If only Happy Hills had fifty times the
number of acres fitted up with fifty times the number of camp-nests!
“Micky, how old is your sister Nelly?” asked Mr. Talmage.
“She’s two years younger’n me,” stammered Finn.
“And how old are you, little man?” continued Uncle Ben, placing a
friendly hand on the urchin’s shoulder.
The touch and tone made Micky Finn brace his backbone with conscious
pride as he replied:
“I’m mos’ twelve, sur, an’ I’ve been the bread-winner fer th’ fam’ly
fer four years--ain’t I, Ikey?”
“Shure he has! An’ Nelly gits more’n lots of sick gals we know, ’cuz
Finn won’t play craps ner match pennies like the udder boys do!”
bragged Ikey, anxious to win a ticket for Micky.
“Well, let me see! Who will go with Nelly, to take care of her? Have
you any other sisters or family to travel with her?” asked Uncle Ben.
“We had a sister two years older’n us but she disappeared one night an’
we never hearn tell of her agin. She worked in a tobacco-shop. Since
then, I had all the supportin’ to do. That was last summer, she went
wid anudder gal to Coney Island an’ never got back.”
“I’ll have to write down your address, Finn, and send a lady down to
see Nelly. If everything is all right, she will arrange to take your
sister to the country at once. I’ll make out the ticket myself. Now you
can go out and spend week-ends with her if you like. And should you
take a summer vacation, you can go to Happy Hills free of cost for two
weeks,” explained Mr. Talmage.
Micky Finn was so overwhelmed with gratitude and surprise at this
unexpected invitation that he stood gaping at his benefactor, but said
not a word.
“T’ank the chentleman, Micky! Can’t che t’ank him nice, fer what he’s
gone and done fer you an’ Nelly?” Ikey said with a scowl at his friend
for whom he was sponsor.
“I do thank--Aw, get out, Ikey! De gentleman _knows_ the choky way I
feel in my windpipe! Don’che, Mister?” wailed Finn.
“Yes, Micky, I know just how you feel, and I feel just as happy as
if you had thanked me with every word known to convey the feeling of
gratitude,” said Mr. Talmage, smiling.
“Dat’s all right to say to him, Mr. Ta’mage, but I don’t like my
fren’s what I bring up here to do nuttin’ what ain’t all jus’ right.
We all gotta remember to say what folks like you’se say to each
udder, ef we’re goin’ to live at Happy Hills!” rebuked Ikey Einstein,
thoughtfully.
“That’s right, too, Ikey, but you have had more opportunities to
practice than Micky had; when he meets us often, he, too, will begin to
change his habits and ways of expressing himself.”
As Mr. Talmage spoke, Micky Finn recalled the words his pal Skelly had
said a short time before: something about becoming a little lady with
fine manners but no fun!
“Good gracious, Uncle Ben--aren’t you most done talking to those boys?”
called Don Starr from the door of the director’s room.
“Coming right now, Don! Well, Micky, let me know when you want to go
and spend Sunday with your sister. I’ll try and get her off in a day or
two,” said Mr. Talmage. Then the two street waifs took their departure.
Of course, you know what it is all about, don’t you? You remember what
Uncle Ben did in the last Blue Bird book, and how the camps at Happy
Hills progressed so that they might be ready to receive Little Citizens
as early as the last of May?
If you have forgotten how the Nests and other plans at Aunt Selina’s
country place were to be built, I will repeat the description.
The great estate and farm of Happy Hills in the Valley of Delight, had
a fine large woodland tract where the Nests were built. A shallow brook
ran through the woods, offering all sorts of fun and convenience to
the little campers. At one side of the woodland lay a fertile stretch
of land that was divided into many squares, one for each child at camp,
to be used as farms. In this soil, a Little Citizen might dig and plant
and harvest different kinds of vegetables and flowers and have them all
for his own. No one could trespass or take away what a child planted on
his or her own farm.
The Nests were large enough to hold six bunks and a bed. The bunks,
three on either side of the square room, were to be for the six Little
Citizens occupying that Nest, and the bed at the end would be for the
Mother Bird of that particular Nest. Besides the bunks and bed, there
was a locker and a clothes-tree at the head of each bunk. The lockers
had lids to be closed and locked to hold personal things belonging to
the child who was given that section of the Nest. It could also be used
as a seat.
Each Nest was about fifteen feet square, and posts held up a sloping
roof to shed the rain. This roof extended about two feet over the outer
line of the square room to protect the beds and lockers from the rain
when it stormed. Another arrangement to keep the inside of the Nest
dry, was a canvas curtain that rolled up on spring-rollers in fair
weather, but came down in wet or cold weather, to act as a wall or
screen. These curtains buttoned down the sides and at the bottom.
A gallery three feet wide extended about the outside of the Nest. This
narrow veranda was railed in safely by a three-foot fence to keep the
children from falling off the platform of the Nest which was raised a
few feet above the ground.
The Refectory was a large open building equipped with rain-proof
curtains also, but on fair days they were rolled up so that it was like
a great pavilion. Even the long tables and chairs folded up and could
be quickly stacked up at one end of the room if the space was wanted
for games or meetings.
Besides the sleeping Nests and the Refectory, there were a tool-house,
a carpenter shop for teaching carpentry, a machine-shop to teach
mechanics, a library with books and papers to read, and in fact many
other departments for the education of boys and girls.
As you read in the last chapter of “The Blue Birds’ Uncle Ben,” the
children published their June number of the magazine and planned to
suspend for July and August. In this June issue they showed photographs
of Happy Hills and the Nests ready to receive tenants for the summer.
And as every benevolent institution and child’s hospital, as well as
the Welfare Workers and physicians known to be interested in the poor
children received a copy of the June magazine, the boys and girls
publishing it felt sure there would be plenty of applicants to fill the
camp.
So work went on until the last of May, when all was ready at Happy
Hills, and Maggie Owens--you remember Maggie, don’t you?--already had
her little flock of brothers and sisters in one of the Nests. She was
the first Little Citizen to take up residence at the camp. Maggie had
been admitted without a ticket as her case was well known to the Blue
Birds and needed no investigation, but the tickets were ready for
distribution the day before Decoration Day and Uncle Ben was truly
surprised at the demand awaiting them.
Ikey Einstein had been suggested by the Big Brother’s Organization as
an honest, shrewd little fellow who could be of great assistance in the
matter of tickets, so the boy was interviewed and engaged at a salary
to furnish information about any of the numerous applicants from the
East Side, where Ikey lived.
And that is why Micky Finn sought out Ikey when he wanted to secure a
camp-ticket for Nelly.