GOING BACK TO TOWN.
Leaving dear old Kayuna and going back to town was always a time of
mourning with the Ward family. They had occasionally lived out there
through the whole year, but it was not very convenient for the grown-up
members of the family, and there were no good schools for the older
ones.
The first of October was the usual time for the flitting. For a week
before there was a great flying around among the small fry, who had to
put away any of their own possessions which were not taken with them
into town, for mamma insisted on their being left in perfect order. All
other things must be collected in the nursery to be packed.
These things were always getting hopelessly mixed up, and some treasured
article was always being rescued from the packed-away things. Cricket
and Eunice had a small trunk which they were allowed to pack all by
themselves, with their own books and treasures, and I should be afraid
to mention the number of times that this trunk was packed and unpacked.
Then there were all the animals on the place to see for a final good-by.
Dear little Mopsie and Charcoal had to have extra feeds of apples and
sugar, to make up for the long time before they would see their little
mistresses again. Mike had to be charged, over and over, not to neglect
to give them enough exercise, and always to let the dogs go, too.
Grinning Mike finally said that he believed “Miss Scriket thought he
didn’t know a horse whin he met wan in the road,” since she gave him so
many instructions.
Then the children must race down to the barns, at the farm-house, and
take a last jump on the heaps of soft, dry hay. They must find some eggs
to take to the store for a final exchange for candy. They must visit all
their favourite haunts by the dear little brook, and say good-by to the
dear old woods, now gay in their fall dress of scarlet and gold.
Hilda had already begun school, and could be with them very little now,
but she was broken-hearted, as usual, at the thought of losing her
little playfellow. She and Edith Craig spent all their spare minutes
with the girls, and planned eagerly for the coming year. Mamma had last
year invited both Hilda and Edith to spend the Christmas holidays in
town with her little daughters, and you can imagine what fine times they
had there, although it proved very different from being together in the
country. Sometime I may tell you about one of these visits to town.
At last everything was ready for the departure. The furniture was all
done up in linen covers, and mattings and rugs were taken up and put
away. The children would race up and down the great echoing halls and
rooms in high glee, enjoying the commotion of the last day. Mamma was
not strong enough to bear all this confusion, and she went back in town
a few days earlier, to see that everything was ready and comfortable in
their town house. The servant whom they left there through the summer
had the house open and in order, so mamma and Kenneth, whom she took
with her, had a few days of rest and quiet all by themselves.
The house at Kayuna was shut up through the winter, though the farmer’s
wife came up once a week to go over it and see that everything was all
right.
At last came the day of departure. Since the village was within easy
driving distance of the city—twelve miles—Mike always loaded up the
trunks on a big cart, and drove them all in town, himself, while the
family went in by train. This year there was a little change in their
going.
’Gustus John, who often drove to town, found that it was necessary for
him to go that very day, and ’Manda wanted to go also, for her fall
shopping. In view of this,—though he had much difficulty in getting his
courage up to ask such a favour,—he begged Dr. Ward that he might have
the “pleasure and honour” of driving Miss Eunice and Miss Cricket in
town with them.
The doctor hesitated, but Cricket and Eunice, hearing of the plan,
begged so hard for permission that their father finally consented.
The start had to be an early one, in order that the farmer and his wife
should get in town to do their errands, for they had to be at home by
five o’clock. So eight o’clock on Wednesday morning saw the wagon drive
in at the gates of Kayuna. ’Gustus John in his big overcoat,—for the
morning was chilly,—and in his new stiff Derby hat, looked a very
different figure from the ’Gustus John of every day, in his blue
overalls and blouse. ’Manda rejoiced in a new fall bonnet, trimmed with
red and blue feathers, and was wrapped up in a gay plaid shawl. She sat
in front with her husband, and left the roomy back seat to the children.
They were all ready, and came out smiling and in good spirits. It was
really much easier parting from dear old Kayuna, since the pleasure of
this long drive was in prospect. Mike brought Mopsie and Charcoal around
to see the start, he said,—though I think it was really an excuse to be
there himself,—and the girls must stop for another hug for them, and
kisses on their cold little noses.
The big farm-horses, carefully groomed and shining, held up their heads,
and said, as plainly as could be, that they were delighted to get off
from the farm-work for one day, as they stood, stamping the ground,
impatient to be off.
’Manda had some extra shawls with which she insisted on wrapping up
Cricket and Eunice, for this October morning was crisp and cool. The
children felt like little mummies, but they were glad of the extra
warmth. Eliza charged ’Manda to take off the shawls before they reached
town, so “they might look like something, when they got there.”
Then ’Gustus John gathered up the reins, and the horses, tossing their
fine heads, wheeled around, and went down the avenue at a brisk trot,
while Eunice and Cricket waved good-by to dear old Kayuna, and threw
kisses to Mopsie and Charcoal.
Gayly the horses trotted along the hard country roads, glad of a chance
to show their spirits and their speed. Merrily the girls’ tongues
wagged, and ’Gustus John and ’Manda on the front seat exchanged
delighted glances. They were such a good-natured couple that the
children always wondered how they happened to have such a spoiled child
as Mamie. Really ’Manda was too good-natured and easy with her. She
never could bear to correct or punish her in any way, and since Mamie
was not very good to begin with, the result was a bad one, as we know.
Too much of our own way is not good for any of us.
An hour of this brisk pace brought them to a roadside hotel, where the
horses were watered at a great trough by the side of the road. It was
pretty to watch the thirsty creatures, as they plunged their noses deep
in the clear, running water, and then drank eagerly. Then ’Gustus John
checked them up again, climbed into the light wagon, and then, gathering
up the reins, he cracked his whip and they were off once more.
Just after that they had an accident that might easily have been a
serious one. The back seat of the wagon could be taken out, so that
’Gustus John could use the space behind for packing jars of butter, and
baskets of eggs, when he went to town with “small truck,” as he called
it. When the seat was put back, two little iron pieces on the bottom
slipped into two little sockets and held it fast. Even without this, the
seat would rest pretty securely on the frame-work.
Now, while ’Gustus John had been harnessing that morning, he had just
lifted the seat from the barn floor, to put it in place,—for the last
time he had used this wagon the seat had been taken out,—when he was
called away. He rested it in its place on the body of the wagon; then,
without stopping at the moment, to notice if it was secure, went to see
what was wanted. When he came back the seat looked all right, and he
entirely forgot that he had not yet slipped the little irons into the
sockets. It would have been safe enough, in this way, over smooth, level
roads, but a jar, or a steep ascent, would have been enough to throw it
off the body of the wagon.
After they left the watering-trough, the road wound up a steep hill, a
very steep one. Eunice leaned forward and took hold of the back of the
front seat.
“Seems to me, Cricket,” she said, “this seat rather wiggles. Hope it
won’t slip off.”
“Nonsense! I don’t feel it,” said Cricket. “’Gustus John always fastens
it in tight. I’ve seen him lots of times,” and by way of showing her
confidence in ’Gustus John’s care, she leaned back with a little
unnecessary force. The horses at that moment came to what is called, in
the country, a “thank you marm,” which is a sort of mound across the
road to act as a water-shed. The wagon gave a jerk as it passed over.
This was too much for the seat, which had slipped a little as they
climbed the hill, and off it went behind, bringing the two little girls
with it, down into the middle of the road. At the same instant the
horses sprang forward at a renewed trot, as they swept around a curve to
a more level piece of road, and they were out of sight in a moment.
Cricket and Eunice, breathless with their sudden descent, sat on the
seat, staring after their chariot in great bewilderment. They had gone
over so suddenly, that neither of them had screamed, and ’Gustus John
and ’Manda, talking busily over their errands in town, did not know that
they had lost their passengers. Suddenly ’Manda, hearing a faint cry in
the distance, turned around to see if the children heard it. There was
nothing but emptiness behind.
“Lawful suz,” she cried, catching at the reins. “Ef we hain’t ben and
gone and lost them children! Turn round, ’Gustus John! turn _round_, I
say!”
’Gustus John’s slower brain could only take in one fact.
“Let go the lines, ’Mandy,” he said, sharply, as one of the horses
reared at the sudden twitch of the reins. “Hain’t I told yer more’n five
hundred times not to do that on no account?”
“The children, ’Gustus John!” gasped ’Manda, rising in her place, and
looking back. “We’ve lost the children! where can they be?”
“Lost ’em _out_?” ’Gustus John pulled up so suddenly that the horses
fell back on their haunches. “My Gummy!” He whirled the horses around,
and drove back. As they came to the curve, they saw Eunice and Cricket
in the road, trying to get out of the heavy shawls, which wrapped them
like mummies.
“Well, I declare for it! Are you hurt, children?” ’Manda called,
eagerly.
Both little girls came up laughing.
“No, not a bit,” they declared. They had not struck their backs at all,
only slipped right out, seat and all, and the thick shawls had protected
them. ’Gustus John was ready to sink into the ground with mortification.
“I swan! I never did forget that ’ere seat fastenin’ before. To think
I’ve been and done it this mornin’ of all mornin’s. I’m ashamed to look
your pa in the face ever agin, when I’ve pretty nigh killed ye both.”
“Why, we’re not hurt the least bit,” Cricket assured him, eagerly, as he
fixed the seat firmly in its place again. “It was lots of fun going
over. It slipped off just as _easy_!”
’Manda felt the children all over very carefully, to make sure that no
bones were broken, she said, though, seeing how lively the children
were, there was little fear of that.
“That seat’s ez tight as a drum, now,” said ’Gustus John, finally,
preparing to lift the girls in.
“Wait a minute,” said ’Manda; “I must tidy them up a bit, now. Look at
Cricket’s hat,” and she straightened the crooked hat, patted down the
flying locks, and pulled their dresses around. “Ain’t it warm enough to
take off them shawls, now? There you be!” with a final pat to each.
Then they mounted again and settled in their places, while the horses,
wondering at all this delay, started off again at a swinging pace, which
took them over the ground so fast that it was not long before they
crossed the long bridge, and were fairly in town.
It was only a little after ten, when they turned into the home-street,
and drew up before the familiar house. Mamma, seeing their arrival from
an upper window, came hurrying down to meet them, as glad to see her
little daughters as if they had been separated a year, instead of a few
days.
Then after mamma had warmly thanked ’Gustus John and ’Manda for bringing
such rosy-faced little maids home, Eunice and Cricket said good-by to
them also, and ran in to the house, feeling now that the lovely summer
at Kayuna was fairly over.