THE END OF A HAPPY SUMMER
“Say Micky, dis is some trip from Noo York to Happy Hills, ain’t it?”
remarked Skelly, as he fidgeted in the seat.
“It’s cuz yeh are so anxious to git there. Now I’m a lookin’ out the
winder at all the trees and little houses we pass an’ I ain’t so tired
wid de ride,” replied Micky.
“Mick, do yeh really t’ink dey kin make a real artist of Nelly? Why,
she’s on’y a kid,” said Skelly to whom it seemed impossible that quiet
and meekness should have any power hidden under its cloak.
“Dat’s what Mister Uncle Ben tol’ me last week in his office, yeh know.”
“Why ain’t you or me got some such talent in our heads?” persisted
Skelly, complainingly.
“Maybe we have, but we are so chuck full of work and fight that the
quiet t’ings ain’t got time to sift out, yeh see. Ef we was to settle
down quiet-like for a week at Happy Hills mebbe somethin’ would show
up fer us, too.”
“Well, t’ank goodness we got a ticket to take a vacation anyway! I hope
to goodness, dey don’t make you sing church hymns and pray every udder
minute of de day!” muttered Skelly.
“Don’tche go an’ spoil everyt’ing at camp wid your kickin’, Skelly! Ef
you don’t like de way t’ings are run yeh kin always go back to de city,
yeh know. It ain’t costin’ yuh nuttin’,” advised Micky, with anxious
concern.
“Oh, I’ll try and stick it out fer a week, as long as you t’ink you’ll
stay too.”
When the station was called out where the two boys had to leave the
train, they looked eagerly about at the lovely scene. Green grass,
green trees, green bushes everywhere and no sign up: “Keep Off, Private
Grounds”--or familiar boards such as they knew of in the city parks
which read: “Keep off the Grass”--“Don’t pick flowers.”
“Gee, Micky! Even de sky looks green wid de udder green t’ings
a-shinin’,” breathed Skelly, softly.
A lark suddenly began his lay and the two boys looked at each other,
then about them for the songster.
“Dis is somethin’ like, eh, Skelly?” chuckled Micky.
“Bet’cher life, pard! Come on, le’s hurry to camp an’ see what it’s
like. Ef it’s anything like dis, I kin stand a week of it,” replied
delighted Skelly.
Before either boy could see which country road to take, a touring car
sped up and Uncle Ben hailed the travellers.
“Oh, there you are, my boys! I was delayed down the road by a blow-out
or I would have been here when the train pulled in.”
The boys grinned and looked at each other. Were _they_ going to ride in
that swell car?
“Jump in now, and we’ll soon be whisked back to Happy Hills where your
friends are waiting to greet you.”
So the two over-worked little newsboys scrambled in and dropped upon
the soft leather cushions with a sigh.
“Hully gee! Dis is de life, all right, Mister Uncle Ben,” gurgled Micky.
“While we are passing this lovely country-side you can look about and
see what an ideal place it is for boys and girls. See the big lake for
the older boys where they can fish and swim? Over there is a stretch
of forest land where we often go to hunt up wild flowers and other
interesting things in Nature. And just a few miles on the other side of
the station there is quite a town where we can buy anything we might
need during the summer. Now when we reach Happy Hills you will see how
complete everything is there for an outdoor life for Little Citizens.”
The boys paid attention to the remarks and agreed with Uncle Ben that
the location was ideal for everyone. Then the car neared the woods from
whence rose a noisy babel of sound--happy laughter and singing, or
calling, of many children.
“Here we are, boys--and there comes Nelly!”
Micky could not believe his eyes. Was that rosy, plump little girl
who was running to meet him, his sickly, crippled little sister? Even
the precocious, hardened little Skelly was impressed by the great
improvement in the little girl.
“Oh, Micky, I’m so glad you are here! And Micky I kin make pickshers of
ladies’ dresses all de time now, and make money for you and me, some
day!” cried Nelly, flinging her arms about her brother’s neck.
From that moment, Skelly was a subdued young man, for he was too
interested to remember his threats about going back to the city, and he
saw so many familiar faces of children--yet not familiar as they had
been once, for these faces were round and rosy, and the children happy
and always busy about something which is the secret of true happiness
and contentment.
Little Mother Maggie was introduced to Nelly’s two visitors, and after
a time, the little hostess asked Maggie to sing and show the boys how
she was improving.
Without demur, Maggie sang her old favorites, and even though they
sounded suspiciously like “the goody-goody hymns” he had heard before,
Skelly sat and listened, keenly appreciative.
“Come and see my prize asters, now,” said Maggie, turning to lead the
way to the Little Farms.
“Oh, and Micky, what you think?” exclaimed Nelly, eagerly.
“What?”
“Dutchy Bill what blows de brass horn, won a prize fer best playin’ dis
month!” said Nelly, delightedly.
“An’ Ikey Einstein, your friend, took the medal for courage when Bob,
the horse, ran away wid on’y two little kids in the buckboard. Ikey
jumped out and hung on de horse’s neck till Mister Uncle Ben could
catch up and help,” added Maggie.
“We raised seven fine hogs for market, boys. But Mister Uncle Ben
bought them from us hisself, and is going to use ’em in the Blue Bird
and Bobolink Home dis winter, you know,” laughed Nelly, eagerly.
So the four rattled on, telling great bits of news--at least it was
great for Little Citizens--and finally they reached the garden plots.
Micky and Skelly were surprised at seeing all the fine vegetables and
flowers growing in each square, and when Nelly told them of string
beans, radishes, lettuce, and other produce that the children had
gathered and sold to the housekeeper at Happy Hills, the two city boys
began to see how profitable and pleasant a life on a farm must be. Ten
times more profitable than selling papers!
Maggie’s pet aster was admired to her heart’s content, but when Skelly
bent down to sniff at it, that he might please Maggie by praising its
perfume, he could not truthfully say a word in its defence.
Maggie laughed merrily. “You don’t like de smell, do you?”
“Hully chee, Maggie! I t’hot it was sweet like roses, but it’s just
like medicine smell!” said Skelly.
A few Police sauntered up, eager to be introduced to the two strangers,
and because the newcomers were a year older than the other boys at
camp, they were shown about with much pride.
The Fire House and apparatus were displayed and admired, then the
base-ball diamond and the team that was practicing for a match game
against the Police Team was visited.
After this, the pigs had to be exhibited, and the Street Cleaning
Squads were interviewed. By the time Micky and Skelly had met the
Health Board, and the many other Squads and Boards formed that summer,
they had met every Little Citizen at Camp, for everyone was a member of
one or more organizations.
Miss Martin was very pleasant to the strangers and took them to the
Refectory for some refreshments although it was not suppertime and
dinner was long past. Later they were shown the Nest they might occupy
for their visit, and when Skelly was removing his shoes that night
preparatory to retiring, he whispered to Micky:
“Say, Mick! Ain’t dis a place, dough! Wish to goodness we had come out
here sooner and stayed longer, eh?”
“It’s fine, all right, but yeh see, ef we hed been here and tooken up
the place fer two sickly boys, it wouldn’t-a been right! We’se is big
and healthy and didn’t need country-life like some of dem poor little
kids we saw coming away from Noo York dat day in summer,” replied
Micky, thoughtfully.
The next day was the Saturday preceding Labor Day and on the following
Tuesday, the Camp would close at Happy Hills and all the Little
Citizens were to be taken back to the city: some to take up a residence
in the new home, and some to join their families or friends again,
after a long, wholesome summer in the country.
That morning after Miss Martin’s usual story-hour, Uncle Ben stood up
to address the children.
“Our New Home, thanks to the efforts of Mr. Richards and others, is now
ready to receive all those who will belong to our family this winter.
Those who hold passports for this privilege will stand over to my left
side.”
In a short time a crowd of boys and girls had grouped themselves as
directed. Then the speaker continued:
“Now I have some good news to offer the others. One of the visitors
who was present at our circus saw a great need for a good home for
other children than those who had some talent to develop, and she went
to work and secured the large house adjoining our home. This she has
renovated and turned into a lodging-house for those boys and girls who
earn a living, or for those who do not wish to live separate from their
brothers or sisters. For a small weekly fee, a Little Citizen can live
comfortably and well in the next-door house to our home.
“Now I wish to know if there are any present who would like to engage a
room with board at this house, so we can tell how many to provide for
on the day we all go back to the city.”
“Oh, hully chee! What wouldn’t I give to be a Little Citizen right
now!” sighed Skelly, while Micky looked wistful, too.
Bill overheard the remark and a thought came to him.
“Hey, Mister Uncle Ben! Can’t anyone like an outsider what is workin’
fer his livin’ join dis house?”
“The new house is open for anyone who can pass a satisfactory
examination by the Board. Of course, you all know we have to question
every applicant so as to keep out bad characters. Any honest,
respectable boy can secure a home at this house.”
At that Micky and Skelly exchanged looks, and Ikey Einstein ran over to
join them.
“Gee whiz! Boys le’s join quick! What a fine home we will have next to
Mister Uncle Ben’s place!”
Miss Martin laughed as she heard the cause for rejoicing and called out:
“It will not be because you live next to Uncle Ben, but because you
will be half of his family, as he will not leave you without his
company once we are settled down for the winter.”
A score of boys had started towards Uncle Ben to sign an application
for a home, when Micky and Skelly followed close upon Ikey’s heels to
secure permission to live in such a heavenly place as Ikey described it
to be.
While they were waiting in line to sign, or place a mark after their
applications, Ikey whispered to his chums:
“Miss Marting said dey got a music-box and lots of good records fer de
boys to play. Dey got a tank in de cellar fer us to swim in, and a big
back room what is made over into a gym. And every feller’s got a bed
and burear fer himself. He can lock de drawers, too, and ef he wants to
be alone, he kin pull his curtains about his room and shet himself away
from de udders!”
“I guess ye’re talkin’ about de swell home fer de gurls and talents,
ain’t cher?” remarked Skelly, skeptically.
“Naw! _Dey_ got _real_ rooms fer demselves! Little square ones all
fixed up fine! And downstairs in de big living room is a _real_ piano
fer music makers. And all sorts of new-fangled things fer good times.
Oh, dat Blue Bird and Bobolink City Home is one grand place, I kin tell
yuh!”
“Who tol’ you all about it?” queried Micky.
“Maggie, what is called ‘Margaret’ by the grown-ups!” bragged Ikey.
“Well, as fur as I care, de camp kin shet down now and start us all
back to dat city home. I never had a home, es I kin remember, in all my
life!” said Skelly.
“Your turn next, Skelly,” called Uncle Ben at this moment, and the two
city boys quickly went up and signed their names on the register.
“And you will be there Tuesday without fail?” asked Uncle Ben.
“Of course, we will, Mister Uncle Ben!” declared the newsboys.
And so they were. Not only were they eagerly welcomed to the first good
home they had ever known, but the “Little Wonders” found at Happy Hills
were welcomed to _their_ “Blue Birds’ City Nest” where many interesting
and wonderful things came to pass that year, all about which will be
told to you in the next book, entitled “Blue Birds’ City Nest.”
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.