VIRGINIA GOES HUNT-ING
It chanced that Virginia had never visited Isabel, though a visit
had been planned more than once. All preparation had been made for
Virgie to go home with Isabel and then go to camp with her, but it
would have made extra railroad fare and there was such a short time
between the close of school and the beginning of camp that Virginia
gave it up. At the last minute, too, a letter from one of the boys
announced that the aunt who kept house for them all was sick in bed.
Hence it happened that when the girls talked about Virgie’s being
with Isabel, they were mistaken. By different routes they had
arrived at Merrymeeting at about the same time.
“Bye, Baby Bunting, Virgie’s gone a-Hunting,” sang Lilian, standing
by the ’bus as it started to move off with its load of girls. Lilian
and Cathalina were to leave for New York later in the day, taking a
sleeper.
Virginia laughed, waved her hand in final salute, and turned to
Isabel. “You are Hope-ing, I suppose, Isabel.”
“Yes; Hope-ing for a jolly vacation.”
“Do you remember last Christmas at Hilary’s? I am one lucky girl,
after all.”
“Christmas at our house won’t be anything like that, Virgie, but I
hope that you will have a good time anyway. The boys are lots of
fun, and we can do some different things, anyway, from the grind of
lessons. It’s a real little town, and everybody knows everybody
else. We are called ‘the Hunt boys and Isabel.’”
“Never Isabel and the Hunt boys? Nor Isabel Hunt and the boys?”
“Never.”
“I am surprised. I supposed you were more important than that!”
“Not a bit of it. You see, I come in between the boys. This is the
order, from the oldest down.” Isabel held up her gloved fingers.
“Jim, aged twenty-four; William and Milton, twins, aged twenty; Lou,
seventeen; Isabel, sixteen; Norman, thirteen; and Edwin, eleven. Jim
is through school and in business with Father now, though he is
planning something else, I guess. Slim and Shorty are working their
way through college, Lou is in the last year of high school, Norman
and Ed in the grades. Norman goes into high school next year. Jim
brought us all up.”
“Jim! Where were your father and your aunt?”
“I don’t wonder you exclaimed. But my daddy had his hands full to
get the daily bread for us all, and is easy going on discipline.
Auntie is a dear, timid little soul. Some folks think that she is
queer, but she is just old-fashioned and afraid of folks. She tried
her best on me, but the boys were too much for her, so Jim took hold
of the discipline and made us all behave. We knew if he said
anything he meant it. Father would forget, and Auntie couldn’t make
a flea mind, but Jim felt responsible, too. Once when I had been
awfully rebellious about Jim’s interfering, as I thought, about
something I wanted to do dreadfully, I talked it all out to Jim.
Can’t you just imagine me, mad as could be, telling Jim that I
didn’t think it was any of his affair and that I knew I could get
Father to let me. It was terribly mean of me, for Jim had always
petted me especially because I was the girl. Oh, he would tease me
and make me do things, but he made a lot over me.
“This time Jim gave up. ‘All right, Isabel,’ he said, ‘if that is
the way you feel about it.’ Then he sat down in a chair, looking too
forlorn, and stared out of the window. I was not expecting any such
performance—thought I should be made to behave, as usual. I went out
and banged the door, and then I felt so mean over it that I came
back in, and there was Jim still sitting in the chair. And I love
Jim next to Father, so I went up and peeked around the chair and
said, ‘What’s the matter, Jim?’ He just held out his arms and I got
in his lap and we made up, and Jim told me why he did not want me to
do this. I listened to him this time, and then he told me that when
our mother knew she could not live, when Edwin was a tiny baby, she
asked Jim to help Father look after the children, especially me! I
was scarcely five and Jim about thirteen then. Think of it! Poor
Jim, with six children younger than he was! But then he has a
perfectly lovely disposition, and is real jolly, too. I imagine it
did not wear on him as much as you might think. I told you how he
taught me to swim, didn’t I?”
“Yes.”
“This time I must have been about ten years old. I told Jim that I
was sorry and that I would stand by him. And so I have, especially
with the younger boys.”
“Which ones do you call Shorty and Slim?”
“Will is Slim, and Milton is Shorty. I’ll not describe any of the
boys. You’ll get them all fixed without much trouble, I think. All
the boys have nicknames, but you can get their real names first. I
call them by their own names almost altogether now.”
“I thought that you had never known your mother at all. But you must
have been old enough to remember her.”
“It’s very hazy. Auntie had me away from home a good deal because my
mother was not strong for several years before she died.”
“I’m thankful that my mother lived as long as she did, because I
would not have been taught anything but what is rough and unkind by
my stepmother. I helped my mother with everything and studied with
her till she grew too ill. Then I did all the housework till my
father married again. We haven’t a big house, though, and there was
only Father except when there were men to help on the ranch. Then we
hired somebody to help me.”
“How old were you then?”
“Past fifteen.”
“You seemed like such a little thing last year when you first came.”
“I was sixteen, though, a whole year older than you. I’ve grown a
good deal since last year. My clothes all had to be let out and
down, you know.”
“I suppose it was because you were so thin, and then your hair was
skinned back so tight——”
“And my clothes were so funny.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. But really I am not so far from seventeen
now. The ages I gave you were our last birthdays.”
Isabel and Virginia had been talking to each other all the way to
Greycliff Village. Now they waked up to their surroundings enough to
say goodbye to other girls, received their through tickets from the
chaperoning teacher, and waited a short time for the train. This
took them west instead of east, and was to land them in the little
town at about eleven o’clock. As Virgie wanted to be as saving as
possible, they did not even take a Pullman. “And what was the use?”
said Isabel. “We had no need of a sleeper—why go to bed for a few
hours? And they always make up the berths about nine or ten o’clock.
I’d rather be in the ordinary coach, even if it is for nine or ten
hours.” This was very good of Isabel, and the girls were so happy
that nothing made much difference. Fortified with some magazines and
a box of candy, they managed to put in the rest of the day very
comfortably, taking their meals in the dining car. The wintry
landscape was not unpleasing, and they were almost surprised when
they found the end of the journey at hand.
“Who will meet us?” asked Virginia.
“Whoever happens to be at liberty. Probably Jim will come, but it
might be Will or Milton, or both.”
“Aren’t you lucky to have so many brothers to look after you!”
“I believe I am. It’s Jim—there he is!”
Virginia glanced out of the window as the train was pulling into the
station and the girls were gathering up their bags and magazines.
“He looks a little like Isabel,” she thought, “but tall, rather——”
The image of Jim in his blue every-day suit was blurred, and the
girls hurried down the aisle to the door.
“This is Virginia, Jim—my nice brother, Virgie. Where’s the
machine?”
Jim took the baggage from the girls, led them to where a Ford
machine stood waiting, and tucked them and the bags within. “Wait
till I see about the checks,” said he, and disappeared in the
freight room of the small station. But he soon reappeared and they
started on their way to Isabel’s. The streets were a mixture of mud
and snow. It had been sleeting a little and Jim drove carefully
through the main streets, past neat frame houses, with here and
there one of brick, stone or stucco, till they reached a big,
rambling old-time colonial house, set in a large yard.
“We’ve never taken our fence down, like so many of the folks,” said
Isabel, apologetically, as she pointed out the place and the low
iron fence. “But we have all kinds of vines over it in the summer,
clematis and ramblers and things, I was so disappointed not to have
you here when the town looks pretty. Hilary would be delighted with
our little orchard in bird time.”
Out of the house came two hatless youths as the machine drew up to
the curb. “Mercy—nothing on their heads this cold day!” exclaimed
Virginia; but Isabel and Jim only smiled.
“The twins, Virgie,” said Isabel, as she climbed out. Jim handed the
bags to the smiling boys, Virgie was introduced to “Slim” and
“Shorty,” and they were in the warm house in a jiffy. “I bungled
most of my introductions, Virginia,” said Isabel. “Now see if I can
properly present the boys to you.”
All the boys had kept awake till Isabel and her friend should
arrive, but Norman and Edwin, having satisfied their affection for
Isabel and their curiosity about Virginia, soon disappeared. Virgie
placed them at once and was sure she would remember which was which,
and noted how like Isabel her next older brother, Lou, was. Jim she
had met first, and had his appearance stored away in her mind. But
she was puzzled about the twins. They looked alike, as twins do,
though there was enough difference, Virgie thought, to make
distinction not too hard, but she was mixed on the introduction and
thought that she would have to ask Isabel again. Will caught a
puzzled look from her, and accustomed to the situation, called,
“Come here, Shorty, I want to make sure that Miss Virgie knows us.”
Virginia looked up at a tall, slim figure, taller than Jim, with
merry brown eyes and slightly stooping shoulders. The boys laughed
at her mystified look. “Shorty!” she gasped.
“Because he _isn’t_ short, Virgie,” said Isabel. “Boys are that
way.”
“Then you are Will, and ‘Slim,’” said Virginia, looking at Will’s
sturdy proportions.
“Exactly,” said he. “Milton is so studious that he is getting a
trifle round-shouldered, but when he gets his growth we think that
he will be all right.”
“Milton’s getting his growth is another of our brilliant jokes,”
explained Isabel. “He is over six feet now. Oh, here’s Father,” as a
quiet, pleasant looking man came in with Jim, and embraced his
daughter. “We’ll find Auntie upstairs, I suppose, seeing that the
rooms are warm enough, and taking the bags to the right place
herself, instead of letting Jim know where to put them.”
It was not long before the family had said good-night and the girls
were tucked away in Isabel’s room, big and airy in summer-time, but
warm now from a furnace fire. Good, substantial walnut furniture,
homemade book shelves, and clean window curtains were in evidence.
“Do you like a big pillow?” asked Isabel.
“No, I’ll just sleep on the little one,” answered Virginia. Isabel
took two large square pillows from the bed and dumped them on a
chair.
“Auntie insists on having these, for fear somebody might want them.
The two little pillows, you see, take the place of a bolster. She
has a bolster and even bigger pillows than these in her room. I
don’t know whether she sleeps on them or not. Isn’t it funny the way
different people do?”
“I bought a baby pillow, you remember, to take to camp last summer.”
“It makes you straight to sleep without any pillow.”
“You know what the girls say about our pillows at school, don’t
you?”
“‘One feather in each, but if you double it it makes two!’ My, how
sleepy I am!”
Morning woke Virginia with a pleasant sense of being in family life.
It was vacation for the boys as well. Jim and his father, who had no
vacation from business, rose early, were served with breakfast by
Auntie, and went on their way. The school people slept till a later
hour. Virgie started up when she heard slight sounds, but Isabel
told her to rest as long as she wanted to. “The arrangement is that
we shall get our own breakfasts when we feel like it.”
“What could be nicer?” replied Virgie as she sank back on her
pillow.
“We shall have cocoa, any kind of breakfast food that you want, some
fruit, of course—and what else? I shall interview the pantry when I
get up. If we stay in bed too late, of course, the boys may leave us
scant choice.”
“It is so funny to think of all those boys around, I can’t realize
it. But I think that your brothers are as fine as can be. I’m not
used to boys, and I suppose I shall seem terribly stupid about their
jokes and all.”
“I’ve learned to hold my own with them, but you need not worry. You
are a guest and are not to be teased. You can just look pleasant at
anything you don’t understand. Jim won’t do any teasing. He’s gotten
past that age.”
“I’ve heard that boys have ‘ages.’”
“Yes, they do. But Jim and Father would never stand for any horrid
practical jokes—except just little ones, so I haven’t had such a
terrible time, after all. Sometimes I think it’s pretty fine to have
so many brothers. I always used to wish that one of them had been a
sister, but I concluded that there wasn’t any of the boys that I
could spare, anyhow, and if I had a sister she’d have to be extra.
Then I went to Greycliff and at once had a lot of sisters! The
Psyche Club supplies the lack!”
The girls talked on till, thoroughly awake, they began to feel the
pangs of hunger. “I believe I could eat a piece of hot toast and a
scrambled egg,” said Isabel. “How about you, Virgie?” Virginia
acknowledged that the suggestion was pleasing. It was not long
before the girls were down in the big kitchen with Aunt Helen, who
seemed pleased to have them there, and started to the pantry to
bring out something for their breakfast.
“Remember the rules we made about vacations, Aunt Helen. Except in
cases of sickness, late comers get their own breakfast.”
“But we have company,” protested Aunt Helen.
“Virgie isn’t company. I promised her to treat her like one of the
family. Here, Virginia, you can cut the bread while I hunt up the
butter and things.”
Isabel flew around capably, putting some puffed wheat in dishes,
setting out the cream, cutting some oranges in two, setting out a
bottle of milk and the can of cocoa. “What do you suppose we girls
are so crazy about cocoa for?”
“I imagine it’s because it’s so much like chocolate candy.”
“Good morning,” said somebody.
“What do you think of that!” exclaimed Isabel. “Here are Will and
Milton down for breakfast, too. I’ll be good to them and ask them to
have breakfast with us. We’ll all eat our fruit and cereal together
as soon as I get the cocoa made. Then I’ll scramble the eggs while
you or the boys make the toast and everything will be hot. We’ll
want two cups of cocoa, won’t we?”
“Four of everything, please,” said Milton, his tall form appearing
in the door.
“I meant two cups apiece, Milt,” replied his sister. “You and Will
are invited to take breakfast with us. Please get the electric
toaster ready. Yes, I believe I would cut a few more pieces,
Virginia. You don’t know how it disappears in this family, and when
we make it right at the table it is so good and hot. That is one
thing we have in this town, electricity, if we haven’t natural gas
to cook with. In the summer we use coal-oil stoves, and fireless
cookers.”
“Isn’t she the little talker, though,” asked Milton. “My, but it’s
been quiet here till today.”
“Quiet!” said Aunt Helen.
“That’s right, Aunt Helen, stand up for me a little,” said the
dimpling Isabel. Aunt Helen was making mince for the Christmas pies
and stood at the stove stirring her savory mixture. She smiled in
her demure way and stirred in a few more raisins.
“Going to have any pumpkin pies, Aunt Helen?” inquired Will.
“We always have them, you know,” replied his aunt.
“Tell us if there are any plans for a good time this week,” said
Isabel, looking at her brothers. “Please watch this cocoa a minute,
Virgie. I have to get some more milk.”
“We have only been here two or three days ourselves,” said Will.
“Don’t tease your little sister,” said Milton. “Tell her what we are
going to do.” By this time the breakfast was nearly enough ready for
the young people to sit down, a progressive breakfast, as Isabel
said.
“What is it?” asked Isabel as she passed the cream.
“The boys are going to get up an old-fashioned sled party, going out
to Effie Smith’s, in the country, Virginia.”
“How can you with the roads as they are?”
“Cold weather is predicted, Isabel. Didn’t you feel how much colder
it was?”
“It was cold enough, but you have to have snow.”
“The blizzard is obligingly on its way. We’re going to have frozen
roads, plenty of snow, and clearing weather for the trip. Mark my
words!”
A rapid step on the stairs, dash through the hall, and Lou Hunt was
in the dining room. “Come on, Lou,” said Isabel cheerily. “Room for
one more. Cocoa on the stove.” Lou spoke his morning greetings to
Virginia, cut another orange, filled a dish with cereal, a cup with
hot cocoa, and sat down next to Virginia. The two other boys were
opposite the girls, and Will pushed some extra silver over to Lou.
The informal, jolly ways of the family delighted Virgie. She
listened to the bright comments of the boys, putting in a word or
two when addressed. Will told how the daughter of the local magnate
was going to give a party and had invited the older Hunt boys and
Isabel. At Will’s expression the girls exchanged glances, and Isabel
said, “See, Virgie, there it is, ‘the Hunt boys and Isabel!’”
“I told her that one of the Greycliff girls was coming and she
immediately extended the invitation to Virginia.”
“Oh, how good of her!” said Virginia, delighted.
“Effie has sent out regular invitations. Yours is on the mantel in
the sitting room, Isabel. We forgot to give your mail to you last
night. She found out that the boys were thinking of it, so got up
these cute invitations. They say, ‘Ye Old Time Sledding Party’ and
run on in a quaint way, leaving the date unsettled till snow time.
Her brother is going to call up the boys when the snow is right and
they are ready for us.”
“Meanwhile,” said Milton, “it is up to us to get our girls engaged
ahead. May I have the pleasure of your company, Miss Hope?”
“Listen to that!” exclaimed Will, while Virgie looked, surprised and
flushing a little at this invitation. “I was going to ask her
myself. This is no place to ask a girl to a party—at the breakfast
table before the rest of us are awake!”
“I believe in efficiency,” said Milton, offering Virgie a piece of
hot toast. “Make your plans early and lose no time in carrying them
out.”
A great clatter was heard on the stairs. Whiz! Norman slid down the
bannisters and Edwin followed. In a moment Norman appeared, and
Edwin’s delicate face was thrust inside the door as he peeped at the
girls.
“Come on in, Edwin,” said Isabel. “Norman, I thought you were too
old to slide down bannisters.”
“Seems to me I remember a girl that did it not so very long ago,”
said Norman, who had already greeted Virginia.
“That was before I went to Greycliff and learned better.”
The others were through with their late breakfast, but Isabel waited
to help Aunt Helen prepare something for the two younger boys, while
Will, Milton and Lou accompanied Virginia into the sitting room.
This was a new experience to Virginia, “so many boys all nice to her
at once,” as she said to Isabel. Milton, who remembered Isabel’s
early description of Virginia, said to her in private, “Why didn’t
you tell us she was good-looking?”
“Why, I never thought about her looks. But she certainly has changed
from when she came to Greycliff. She was half sick then, and her
clothes didn’t fit her. Now she is happy, and well, and her hair is
glossy and thick. I believe Virgie is almost pretty.”
“She looks as if she had some sense. I like her. But I did that on
purpose to get ahead of old Will.”
“Don’t worry. Virgie isn’t going to think you are in love with her
because you ask her to a party. I told her you would all be good to
her and I knew I could count on you to make her have a good time.”
“She shall have it,” said Milton as he went off whistling.
Virginia had intended to keep a little diary of events on her visit.
But they moved too quickly for that. The snow came that had been
promised by the weather man. Bundled in wraps, robes and hay, the
gay sled load of young folks sped to their destination in the
country, to the tune of sleigh bells. The party in town came off
duly, a day or two before Christmas. The boys had been making skis
in the wood-shed and kitchen and Virginia and Isabel had had their
suspicions. Sure enough, on Christmas morning each girl had a fine
pair, marked “Christmas greetings from the boys.”
It was hard to leave such a home full of cheer and Virginia was
especially pleased to have Mr. Hunt tell her how much it had added
to their Christmas time to have her with them. Every boy was at the
train to see them off to Greycliff again. “Promise to come back next
summer,” said Milton.
“If I can,” Virginia assured him. “Oh, Isabel,” said she, as the
train carried them farther and farther away, “what a wonderful time
I have had!”
“What did you like best?” asked Isabel.
“The folks, and the nice times you all have together. The parties
were just great, but I liked the times in the kitchen when we were
cracking nuts or making candy. Your brothers are handy at
everything.”
“We’ve had to help Aunt Helen so much. Father and Jim made us in the
beginning. Now we hire help, though, to come in and do the heavy
cleaning. But it takes so much money to keep me at Greycliff and
help the two boys through college. Lou will go next year, you know.”
“It was such a help to talk with them about things I could do to
help out with my funds.” Virginia thought, too, with satisfaction,
of the boxes of homemade candy which were on their way to Greycliff
by the same train.
“You couldn’t do the things they do, of course, but it is fun to
talk it over.”
“That recipe of your Aunt Helen’s is better than mine for the nut
candy. I think the candy will keep soft longer. I feel as if I ought
to pay her for it.”
“She was so glad to have a hand in it. Now we are going to charge
enough for this candy to make what we ought to on it. Now, remember,
and don’t get soft-hearted and give it away. I say ‘we,’ even if you
would insist on buying all the materials. You see I’m interested in
this business of yours.”
“You forget all those hickory nuts and walnuts that Milton insisted
on cracking and picking out. I think that Edwin and Norman gathered
most of them, didn’t they?”
“Yes, but they had such a lot that they would never get eaten. They
don’t make candy except when I’m home. Oh, once in a while Aunt
Helen does. But it isn’t good for Edwin, and we have to be so
careful about him. I’m afraid he will be sick after our Christmas
celebrations.”
“I hope not. Well, I’ll remember, Isabel, at least about this
particular candy, that it is very valuable, and charge enough to the
girls. This candy represents a great deal more than just sugar and
nuts!”