OLD BROOKSIDE FRIENDS
"Yes," repeated Mr. Harley comfortably. "I don't suppose the boys
will know me. Dick must be ten now, and Herbert's a year older. I
calculate to stay over to-night with Joe Gates and his wife in
Pomona (that's why you folks overtook me walking along this road)
and he'll row me up to the island."
The four little Blossoms wriggled uneasily. Even Dot and Twaddles,
young as they were, could guess something of what Mr. Harley's
sorrow would be when he learned that no wife and children waited
for his coming on pretty Apple Tree Island. Meg glanced at Mother
Blossom. That lady shook her head slightly, as a signal not to
speak.
"Isn't that a sign of spring water for sale?" said Father Blossom
suddenly. "Hand me the vacuum bottles, Margaret, please, and I'll
have them filled. The children may be thirsty again before we get
to Polly's. Dick, will you help me? We've a bottle for each
youngster and they're slippery things to handle."
Father Blossom stopped the car on the other side of the road from
a pretty cottage where a sign on the gate offered "Guaranteed,
Analyzed Spring Water for Sale," and he and Mr. Harley disappeared
with the bottles through the odd, rustic gate.
"Now he'll tell the poor man," sighed Mother Blossom. "Whatever
they do or say when they come back, children, I don't want you to
say a word unless you're spoken to. Can you remember?"
"Yes'm," promised the four little Blossoms, four little hearts
warm with sympathy for poor Mr. Harley.
"Where do you suppose he was all the time he wasn't there?"
whispered Meg.
"I don't know," answered her mother. "He may have been ill. He may
not even know how long it has been since he has been home. Anyway,
darlings, the kindest thing we can do is not to bother him with
talk or questions."
Father Blossom and Mr. Harley were gone for what seemed a long
time to the children, but in reality was not more than twenty
minutes. The four little Blossoms saw them coming, Father Blossom
in the lead. Such a change had come over Mr. Harley! His shoulders
sagged, he scuffed his feet and his eyes were heavy and dull.
"I suppose you know?" he said wearily to Mother Blossom, as he
climbed into the car and Father Blossom took the wheel. "If I only
knew where she went! But she quarreled with her people when she
married me, and I never rightly knew where they lived, or who they
were."
"You'll probably find her," Mrs. Blossom tried thus to encourage
him. "It isn't easy for a woman with two children to drop out of
sight, you know. Some one will be able to give you a clue."
Mr. Harley shook his head despondently.
"It's been two years, your husband tells me," he replied. "And
I've been missing for four. Like as not she doesn't want to see
me. I was out o' my mind for three years, Ma'am, and when I came
to I was in a hospital on the California coast. It took me a year
to work my way East. I kept writing and writing and wondering why
Lou didn't send me a line. She was never one to bear a grudge."
"But what will you do?" asked Mrs. Blossom, her kind eyes filling
with tears as she pictured the ruined little shack on the island.
"Don't go back there and try to live, Mr. Harley--it will only
make you ill again. You know Mrs. Harley isn't there, and I can
not bear to think of you there alone."
"I'll stay to-night in Pomona," said Mr. Harley slowly. "Then I'll
go on to Sunset Lake and put up a while with Chris Smith; he owns
a boathouse and I can earn my keep taking folks about the lake.
I'll be on the spot then if she should come back or if any one
comes with news of her. And if your sister knows where she went--"
"We'll ask her to-night and tell you as soon as we reach Sunset
Lake," promised Mother Blossom heartily.
The rest of the drive was accomplished almost in silence, Mr.
Harley busy with his own brooding thoughts and the Blossoms
anxious not to annoy him. When they reached the town of Pomona,
they left him at the post-office, where he said Joe Gates was
always to be found. Another five miles brought the Blossoms to
Brookside Farm.
"There's Foots!" shouted Twaddles, standing up on the seat and
waving to Aunt Polly, who came flying down the drive.
"And Linda!" cried Meg.
"And Jud! And Peter Apgar!" shrieked Bobby.
"My darling lambs!" babbled Aunt Polly, almost beside herself with
pleasure. "I never was so glad to see any one in all my life!
Margaret, you look positively beautiful! Ralph, Jud will show you
where to drive the car in. Oh, isn't this the nicest thing that
ever happened to us, Linda?"
Linda smiled happily and nodded. She had grown taller since the
four little Blossoms had seen her and she wore her hair pinned up
in a pretty knot on top of her head.
Still laughing and talking, Aunt Polly marshaled her guests into
the house. The twins were so sleepy from the long ride that they
could hardly keep their eyes open, but they insisted on coming to
the supper table. Linda and Aunt Polly had spent hours over that
supper, and Father Blossom declared that he would drive fifty
miles any day to get a slice of Linda's homemade bread.
"Mother," whispered Meg, pulling her mother's sleeve half-way
through the meal, "Dot's crying!"
Sure enough, Dot was crying, big, slow, salty tears running down
her pink cheeks and dropping off into her bowl of rich milk and
bread.
"Why darling!" said Mother Blossom in alarm. "Don't you feel well?
Are you tired? Here, come sit in Mother's lap and tell her what
the trouble is."
Dot put down her spoon and ran to her mother, who lifted her up.
The little girl buried her face in Mother Blossom's frilly collar
and began to sob.
"P-oor Mr. Harley!" she choked. "We're having such a nice time,
and he can't find his two little boys! I kn-ow he'd like to eat
supper wif 'em!"
Dot seldom used "baby talk" but to-night she was tired and
excited.
"Bless the child, what is she talking about?" demanded Aunt Polly
curiously. "And look at this battery of solemn round eyes! What
ever ails these lambs, Margaret?"
Mother Blossom, holding Dot close, explained about Mr. Harley.
"Didn't his wife stop here, Polly?" she asked. "Can you recall
whether she said where she was going? Just a word might give him
something definite to work on."
Aunt Polly shook her head.
"I remember seeing her very well," she said. "She had the two boys
with her and I wanted her to spend the night. But no, she insisted
she must 'go to the city'. Then I suggested that she leave the
boys with me until she found work, if that was what she wanted,
and that, I think, frightened her. I couldn't coax her to stay for
supper after that. I certainly am sorry for Mr. Harley. Tell him
his wife spoke most kindly of him and evidently believed that he
was not in his right mind when he left her and the children."
Twaddles being discovered asleep with a cake in one hand and a
piece of bread and butter in the other, the four little Blossoms
were swept away to hot baths and bed a few minutes after Aunt
Polly finished. And the next thing they knew it was bright
daylight and Jud was whistling on his way to the milking.
"I'm going, too!" Bobby hopped out of bed and began to dress
hastily.
"So'm I!" Dot sat up and shook Meg. The troubles of Mr. Harley had
fled with Dot's dreams and she was her usual merry self. "Come on,
Meg, we haven't seen Carlotta yet."
Meg was ready to get up and Twaddles woke before Bobby had tied
one shoe, so the four little Blossoms, helping each other, managed
to be dressed and downstairs before Jud had started to milk.
"Well, if this doesn't seem like old times!" he exclaimed grinning
at them as they entered the barn.
"Forgotten how to milk, Meg?" asked Peter Apgar, coming into the
dairy barn from feeding the horses. "Want to try it this morning?"
"I don't think I've forgotten how," said Meg cautiously, "but I'd
rather Jud milked, 'cause he can do it so much faster than I can;
and then he can go round with us and see the things."
That little speech pleased Jud mightily and pleased Peter Apgar,
too, because, you will remember, Peter was Jud's father.
"You go sight-seeing this minute, Jud," he ordered his tall son.
"Guess I can do the milking on a special morning like this."
So the four little Blossoms and Jud went to pay their respects to
all the dear farm animals the children had known that first summer
they spent on Brookside Farm. Carlotta, the calf given to Meg and
Bobby, had grown to be a beautiful sleek cow and Meg privately
decided she was prettier than any Aunt Polly owned. Jerry and
Terry, the two farm horses, acted as though they remembered the
small visitors; and as for Mrs. Sally Sweet, Aunt Polly's pet
Jersey cow, she came right up to the bars and fairly begged to
have her nose stroked.
"Mother will want to see you," said Jud, when they had made the
rounds of the barns and poultry yards.
Jud was "as nice as ever," Meg said, and the winter he had spent
at an agricultural college had given him more confidence in his
own ability. He was as determined as ever, the children found, to
be a farmer and a good one.
At Mrs. Peter's neat front door they found Mr. Tom Sparks, a man
who sold and bought cattle and who had given Carlotta to Meg and
Bobby. He was surprised and delighted to see the four children
again and said it was just his usual good luck that had made him
drive in that morning; he was going off the next morning on a two
weeks' trip to buy cows.
"I'd almost like to live here," confided Dot to Twaddles as they
went in to breakfast.