THE BOYS’ ENTERTAINMENT
‟WELL,” said Marjorie, “I suppose we’ve got those boys on our hands for
this whole day”; and the Duchess’s pretty brow wrinkled as if with the
cares of a nation.
It was the morning after the play, and the house was in a state of
“chaos and old night,” as Betty expressed it.
“I’m glad of it,” said Marguerite, frankly. “I think we’ll have lots of
fun, and there are so many things we can do.”
“We can clear up this house, for one,” said Hester, looking dubiously at
the wreck of scenery and properties scattered all about.
“Let’s make the boys clear it up,” suggested Betty.
“Good for you!” cried Jessie. “You _do_ have brilliant ideas sometimes,
don’t you, Betsy? Those scapegraces have imposed themselves upon us, and
they may as well be put to use.”
“Where are they? I don’t see them,” said Nan, peering under the tables
and chairs.
“Oh, they’ll be here soon enough; don’t worry,” said Millicent, who was
calmly eating a late breakfast. “They are but henchmen; let us command
them. They should be only too glad to do our bidding.”
Very soon after, with a wild war-whoop, the boys appeared.
“What a lazy lot!” they cried, looking at the table. “Why, we had
breakfast hours ago, and we’ve had a swim and a run, and we’ve called on
Aunt Molly, and—oh, I say, give us some jam?”
“Not until you work for it,” said Millicent, putting the jam-jar in the
cupboard and standing in front of the closed door. “You see the disarray
of our household gods. Well, restore this palace to its original
exquisite tidiness and order, and you shall have—a spoonful of jam
apiece.”
“A spoonful!” cried Harry Bond. “A jarful, you mean! But come on,
fellows; let’s fire out this trash.”
There were ten boys, for the eight who came down from Middleton had
promptly annexed the two Hillis boys; and the rapidity with which
Hilarity Hall was put in order was suggestive of a Western cyclone.
“You girls vamoose,” shouted Roger Hale. “Run upstairs, or outdoors, or
across the street, or somewhere, and quick!”
The Blue Ribbon Club as one girl flew upstairs, and proceeded to dictate
orders over the banister, which, however, were unheeded and even
unheard.
Timmy Loo danced frantically about among the marauding boys until he was
unceremoniously swept out of the front door by Roger’s broom. He was
rescued by Rosie, who, much astounded at the turn things had taken, ran
over to Aunt Molly’s for shelter and safety. But soon the squall was
over and calm reigned again.
“Come down, girls,” called Ted Lewis. “One free, all free!”
Down came the club, bright and smiling, with fresh shirt-waists and the
additional ribbons or trinkets that masculine presence always seems to
necessitate.
“There, milady,” said Harry Bond to Millicent, “your palace is restored
to all its pristine glory, and now fork over that jam.”
So the jam and everything else the larder contained was set forth, and
those voracious boys speedily despatched it all.
“Now,” said Harry Bond, “we’re all going down to the beach to take
pictures and otherwise enjoy ourselves this pleasant morning; and then,
since you urge us so, we’re all coming back here to dinner.”
“Do,” said Marjorie, heartily; “that will be lots of fun.” And all the
other girls echoed her opinion, except Marguerite and Nan.
“But you _can’t_!” exclaimed the embarrassed Matron. “You see, it’s
Nannie’s and my turn to get dinner to-day, and there isn’t half enough
in the house for such a horde of pirates, and—and we’d have to stay
home all the morning to get ready for you!”
Marguerite looked the picture of distress at the thought of missing the
fun on the beach, and Nan looked placidly indifferent, but had no
appearance of intending to be left behind.
“We’ll take the ‘Whitecap’ to the beach with us,” she said, as she put
on her hat, “and the boys can draw pictures in it. Jack’s quite clever
at catching a likeness.”
“But _what_ about dinner?” said Marguerite, piteously, her
responsibilities as Chaperon suddenly beginning to weigh upon her.
“That’s all right, Daisy,” said Tom Burleigh, who had been holding a
whispered but emphatic conversation with Harry Bond. “We realize the
unexpectedness of this visitation, and ’tis but natural that you girls
should find yourselves unable to cope with it—whereupon and therefore
and for which reason we beg to inform you that we will get the dinner
ourselves, and all we ask of you, fair ladies, is your gracious
company.”
With a flourish and a grand bow, Tom completed his speech and awaited a
reply.
“It doesn’t seem quite right,” said Marguerite; but Betty said:
“Oh, bother! of course it’s all right. It’ll do you boys good to do a
little work, and I, for one, accept your invitation with delight.”
“Me, too!” shouted all the other girls, and Marjorie inquired where the
dinner would be served.
“In Hilarity Hall, of course,” said Tom. “But don’t ask questions, miss.
When you’re invited out you mustn’t be rude.”
“And we’ll invite the kind lady and gentleman next door,” put in Roger,
“for ’tis to them we owe this trip, anyway.”
Uncle Ned and Aunt Molly were pleased to accept the invitation which was
duly offered them; and then, after a few mysterious confabs with Rosie,
the boys declared they were at the young ladies’ services, and all ran
down to the beach.
They stayed until noon, when Tom Burleigh, who announced himself as
Master of Ceremonies, ordered the whole crowd back to the cottage.
“Now, ladies,” he said, as they arrived, “every one of you fly upstairs
to your rooms, and occupy yourselves with sewing dolls’ rags, or
knitting aprons, or whatever pastime pleases you. Take beauty-naps if
you like, but don’t dare to appear on the first floor of this cottage
until summoned by the dinner-horn.”
Marguerite and Jessie wanted to stay and help the new cooks, but it was
not allowed; so upstairs the girls trooped, and Ted Lewis tied rope
barriers across the staircase.
“Those ridiculous boys!” said Marjorie, as the girls congregated in her
room. “They won’t have half enough plates or forks or anything.”
“Yes, they will,” said Betty, confidently; “they’ll have everything
ship-shape; don’t you worry.”
“From the noise, I should think they were building a house,” said Nan;
and, sure enough, hammering and pounding was going on below, as well as
the clattering of dishes and much scurrying to and fro.
Of course the girls looked out of the windows, and they saw Rosie and
some of the boys bringing piles of plates and cups from Aunt Molly’s;
but as that lady herself did not appear, they guessed she, too, had been
forbidden to assist.
After an hour or more of impatient excitement on the part of the girls,
Rosie came up to them, broadly smiling.
“The young gintlemin bid me say that dinner is about to be served, and
w’u’d yez please come down to the parlor.”
So the girls trooped down, and found Uncle Ned and Aunt Molly awaiting
them.
Then the boys appeared, and, with obsequious demonstrations of greeting
and compliment, they invited their guests to the dining-room.
The boys all wore aprons, having confiscated, with Rosie’s help, all
those belonging to the club.
Big Tom Burleigh looked especially funny in a lacy, frilly little affair
of Jessie’s, and as there had not been quite enough to go round, Harry
Bond had made a big pinafore of newspapers. Then some of the boys had
found time to make cooks’ paper caps for them all, and, with paper roses
left from the night before in their buttonholes, their appearance was
festive indeed.
The dining-room was a sight to behold. They had discarded the regular
dining-table, and built a long narrow one of the boards of the
dismantled stage. This table, whose length was such that it required
three table-cloths, was decorated with great bowls of paper roses; and
the whole room was decked with green branches, palms, and paper flowers,
all of which had done duty as the garden in the play.
The twenty people seated themselves at the long and festive board, Uncle
Ned and Aunt Molly, of course, being invited to sit at the head and
foot; and then Rosie began to serve the feast.
But one waitress was far from being enough for that hungry crowd, so the
be-aproned boys took turns in playing waiter.
The first course was clam chowder, of which the Burleigh boys were
justly famed concocters. It was wonderfully good, and as they had made a
great kettleful, there was enough and to spare.
Next was a course of broiled lobster. Although the boys pretended at
first that they had cooked these, they afterward confessed that they had
ordered them sent over from the Inn. But their guests cared not a jot
where the lobsters had met their fiery fate, and pronounced them the
most delicious ever tasted.
After this came blackberry-pies, half a dozen of them, and Aunt Molly
fairly blushed as encomiums were showered on her contribution to the
spread.
The coffee was fine. Ted Lewis always made it in camp, and being
accustomed to making large quantities, and in a big tin pail instead of
a coffee-pot, he had no trouble in turning out a perfect concoction.
Crackers and a red-coated cheese made their appearance, also a big
basket of fruit, and Uncle Ned had brought over a box of bonbons, so the
merry crowd sat for a long time over their dessert—so long, indeed,
that the boys were obliged to leave the table and scurry away to catch
their home-bound train.
“You’ll have a few dishes to wash,” said Harry Bond, with a twinkle in
his eye. “But that’s woman’s work—a nice housewifely occupation.”
“Oh, they’ll be done all right,” said his sister; “and now run, Harry,
or you’ll be late. Give lots of love to mamma and grandma, and tell
them—” But Harry was out of sight and hearing by that time, so Marjorie
didn’t send her message.
“Now!” said Betty, as they turned back to the deserted dining-room.
“What a clutteration! But I s’pose if ’twere done when ’tis done, ’twere
well ’twere done quickly.”
“Yes,” said Hester the practical; “let’s fly at it and clear everything
up, and then sit out on the veranda and talk it all over.”
Aunt Molly and Uncle Ned were politely invited to go home, and then the
many hands went at the work, and it was accomplished with surprising
quickness.
Then the Blue Ribbon Club grouped itself on the veranda, and if those
eight tongues didn’t wag!
They talked as an octave until bed-time, and then, breaking up into
duets, they kept on talking until they fell asleep.