"Mamsie, what shall we do?" Polly clasped her hands in despair, and
looked down on Phronsie, sleeping away as if she meant to take her own
time to wake up, regardless of sunrise on the Rigi. "O dear me, and she
went to bed so early last night on purpose."
"You go right along, Polly," said Mother Fisher. "Put on your golf cape
over your jacket, child, it's dreadfully cold out there. I shall stay
with Phronsie, for of course we wouldn't leave her alone with Matilda,
and all go off for a nice time."
"No, of course not," cried Polly, in horror at the mere thought.
"And she's in such a nice sleep and so warm, that it's a pity to wake
her up," finished Mrs. Fisher.
"O dear me," cried Polly, in distress, "I'd rather stay, Mamsie, and
have you go."
"No," said Mrs. Fisher, firmly, "I shall stay, so that is all there is
about it, Polly. Now run along, child, and tell Matilda to hurry out
too, for she wants to see the sunrise."
Polly still lingered, until her mother looked up in surprise. "Why,
Polly," she said, reprovingly.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "I didn't mean to disobey, Mamsie, I
really didn't; I'll go." And setting a kiss on Mother Fisher's black
hair, she ran out on unsteady feet, and with all her comfort gone.
When she joined her group it would have been rather hard to distinguish
any of them, as everybody was wrapped up in shawls and rugs, if Jasper
hadn't been a sort of scout in waiting for her and Mrs. Fisher and
Phronsie. And Tom could easily be picked out, for he hung around in
Jasper's wake, and besides, he was so very big.
"Where are they?" asked Jasper, looking down the corridor back of her.
"Oh, Mamsie isn't coming, nor Phronsie either, for she's asleep. And
Mamsie made me come," finished Polly, dismally.
"O dear me," said Jasper, quite gone in sympathy. Tom Selwyn poked his
head forward to hear, but, as it was something quite beyond his powers
to help, he thrust his hands into his pockets, and kicked aimlessly on
the floor.
"Well, come on, Polly," said Jasper, wishing he could lift the gloom
from Polly's face, and feeling quite dismal himself.
Little Dr. Fisher, muffled up in a big plaid shawl so that only his
spectacles gleamed in between the folds and his cap, suddenly edged up
back of Polly, and dropped the folds away from his ears so that he
could hear what was going on. And when the group hurried out of the
door, into the cold gray dawn, he was skipping down to his wife's room,
in the liveliest way imaginable.
Old Mr. King had gone on ahead with the parson, as he couldn't scramble
so fast. And now he met them with, "Well, are you all here--where's
Phronsie?"
"Oh, Jasper, I can't tell him," gasped Polly, up on the tiptop bunch of
rocks, and trying to be glad of the promise of the beautiful sunrise to
come, for everybody agreed that it was apparently to be the best one
that had gladdened the hearts of travellers for years. Then she whirled
around and stared with all her might, "If there isn't Mamsie coming!"
"As true as you live it is!" cried Jasper, with a good look, and
springing down the rocks to help her up. Tom Selwyn plunged after him,
getting there first. So in the bustle, nobody answered Mr. King. And
he, supposing from the merry chatter that Phronsie was in the midst of
it, concluded it best not to interrupt their fun, even if he could make
them hear.
"Your father made me come, Polly," said Mrs. Fisher, coming up between
the two boys. "But I'd so much rather that he saw it." And her downcast
face looked so very much like Polly, that Jasper thought matters hadn't
bettered themselves any.
"But, Mamsie," said Polly, creeping up to her with all the comfort she
could, "it makes him happy, just as it made you happy to have me go."
"I know it," said Mother Fisher, with a sigh, "but he has so few
pleasures, Polly, and he works so hard." And her gaze wandered off to
the distant clouds, slowly beginning to break away.
Polly held her breath as they waited and looked, although her heart was
sad when the wee little streak of light began to come over in the east.
"Isn't that just beautiful!" exclaimed Jasper, trying to enjoy it as
much as he had expected; "see, Polly, the stars seem going
out--daylight's coming!"
"I know," said Polly, "so it is." Sure enough, a little strip of gold
touched up the leaden sky, and spread slowly.
"See, it's turning pink." Mrs. Selwyn's plain, quiet face glowed. "See,
Polly, look at that peak bathed in colour."
Just then a little voice said, "Oh, isn't that beautiful!" And whirling
around on her rock, Polly saw little Dr. Fisher staggering along with a
big bundle in his arms, out of which was peering Phronsie's face.
Mother Fisher had turned too. "Oh, Adoniram!" was all she said, as
Polly sprang off to meet them.
"Give her to me," cried Tom Selwyn, of course reaching there first,
before either Polly or Jasper; and before Dr. Fisher quite knew how,
Phronsie was perched on the broad shoulder, and Tom was prancing up the
rocky path as easily as if a bird had lighted on his arm.
"She woke up, luckily," said little Dr. Fisher, "and she's bundled up
so there isn't a chance of her taking cold. Wife, this is grand!" He
gained her side, and drew her hand under the big shawl.
"You've come just in time," cried Polly, skipping around on her rock to
the imminent danger of falling on her nose, and varying the exercises
by cuddling Phronsie's toes, done up in a big bundle.
"I declare if Papa Fisher hasn't tied them up in one of the blankets,"
she announced merrily.
"A blanket is just as good as anything when the sunrise is waiting for
you," said the little doctor, coolly.
"Isn't it!" cried Polly, back at him, happily. "Oh--oh!"
Everybody echoed, "Oh-oh!" then stood hushed to silence. A rosy blush
spread from peak to peak, and all the shadows fell away. Everything
below, towns, villages, lakes, and forests, stood out in the clear cold
dawn, and at last the sun burst forth in all his glory.
"I'm so glad that people don't chatter," said Polly, when at last they
turned away, for the swift clouds had shut it all out. "Did you see
Phronsie's face, Jasper, when that light burst out?"
"Yes, and father's," answered Jasper. "I expect he'd been looking for
her; everybody is so bundled up you can hardly find your best friend.
And then he saw her."
"Yes, and she saw him and called him," said Polly, "didn't you hear
her?"
"Didn't I, though?" said Jasper; "who could help it? Wasn't father
pleased when he got up to us, Tom, to think you had Phronsie in such
good shape? Phronsie, you're in luck," pinching as much of her toes as
the bundle of blanket would allow; "you've got the best place of any of
us, up on that perch."
"I like it," said Phronsie, in grave delight, "very much, indeed,"
surveying them out of the depths of the shawl, "and I wish it needn't
stop."
"Well, it must," said Polly, with a sigh. "Dear me, see those people
run."
"Well, it's cold," said Jasper; "let's you and I race to the hotel,
Polly."
"And the show is over," said Tom, "why shouldn't they run?" as Jasper
and Polly set off, and he strode after, getting there nearly as soon.
An hour later, Polly, who couldn't get to sleep again, for a nap before
breakfast, went out to the little balcony window just outside her door,
where she might sit and write in her journal, and meantime catch any
chance view that the grey scudding clouds might afford. In this way she
strove to work off the impatience possessing her for the beautiful hour
to come after breakfast. "I can hardly believe it now," she thought,
and she gave herself a little pinch to see if she were really awake;
"it seems too good to be true to think that the great Professor
Bauricke is actually going to tell me how to learn to play well!"
"Say," a voice struck upon her ear, "oh, I'm in the most awful
distress."
Polly clapped her book to, and looked up.
"O dear, dear!" It was a tall, spare woman with a face that had
something about it like Grandma Bascom's. It must have been the
cap-frills flapping around her cheeks.
"What can I do for you?" asked Polly, springing up. "Oh, do take my
chair and sit down and tell me about it."
"Oh, will you help me? The land! I couldn't set when I'm in such
trouble," declared the old woman. "My senses, I should fly off the
handle!" Polly, feeling that she was in the presence of some dreadful
calamity, stood quite still. "You see, me and my sister--she's in
highstrikes now in there." The old woman tossed her head to indicate a
room further down the hall, whereat the cap-frills flapped wilder than
ever. "Bein' as it belonged to both of us, she feels as bad as I do,
but as I was the one that lost it, why it stands to reason I've got to
shake around and get it again. Say, will you help me? You've got a pair
of bright eyes as ever I see in a head; and what's the good of 'em if
you can't help in trouble like this?"
Polly, feeling that her eyes would never forgive her if she didn't let
them help on such an occasion, promised.
"What is it you have lost?" she asked.
"Don't you know?" cried the old woman, impatiently. "Mercy me! how many
times shall I tell you? My buzzom pin; it was took of Pa when he was a
young man and awful handsome, and I didn't want to leave it in the room
when we went out, cause somebody might get in, and they'd be sure to
want it, so I pinned it on my nightcap strings and it's gone, and I
a-gallivanting round on them rocks, a-looking at the sunrise, and I can
see that to home all I want to. I must have been crazy."
"Oh, I see; and you want me to go out and help you look for it," said
Polly, her brow clearing.
"Of course," assented the old woman, impatiently. "Land, your
intellects ain't as bright as your eyes. My sakes!--how many times do
you expect me to tell you? I've been a-looking and a-peeking
everywhere, but my eyes are old, and I don't dare to tell any one to
help me, for like enough they'd pick it up when I warn't seein', and
slip Pa in their pocket, and I never'd see him again."
Polly, feeling, if Pa were slipped in a pocket and carried off, it
would be a calamity indeed, said heartily, "I'll get my jacket and cap
and come right out."
"She looks honest; I guess I hain't done no harm to tell her about our
buzzom pin," said the old woman to herself as Polly disappeared. Mamsie
being asleep, Polly could say nothing to her, but feeling that she
would allow it if she knew, she threw on her things and ran out to meet
the old woman, with a shawl tied over her nightcap and a big long cape
on.
"I tell you she's in highstrikes," said the old woman, going down the
hall. "That's our room, 37, an' I've seen you an' your folks goin' by,
so I feel in some ways acquainted. An' if I don't find Pa, I'll be
flabbergasted myself."
"Do let us hurry," said Polly, her mind now only on Pa. So they went
down the stairs and out by the door and up the rocky path just where
the old woman said she and sister Car'line took when they went out to
see the sunrise.
"An' I wish we'd kept in bed," ejaculated Polly's companion. "I most
lost my teeth out, they chattered so; and so did Car'line hers. But
that wouldn't 'a' been nothin' to losin' Pa, cause we could 'a' got
more teeth; but how could we 'a' got him took when he was nineteen and
so handsome? There! here we stopped, just at this identical spot!"
"Well, I think we shall find it," said Polly, consolingly. "How did the
pin look?" she asked, for the first time remembering to ask, and
beginning to poke around in the crevices.
"My land sakes! I never see such a girl for wanting to be told over and
over," exclaimed the old woman, irritably, picking up first one ample
gaiter and then another to warm her cold toes in her hands. "Haven't I
told you he was awful handsome? Well, he had on his blue coat and big
brass buttons for one thing, an' his shirt front was ruffled. And--"
"Was it gold around it?" asked Polly, poking away busily.
"Gold? I guess it was; and there was dents in it, where Car'line an' I
bit into it when we were babies, 'cause mother give it to us when our
teeth was comin'--'twas better'n a chicken bone, she said."
"Oh," said Polly.
"Well, now you know," said Car'line's sister, "an' don't for mercy's
sakes ask any more useless questions. I'm most sorry I brung you."
"I might go down and get the boys, Jasper and Tom--they'd love to
help," said Polly, feeling that she was very much out of place, and
there was no hope of finding Pa under the circumstances.
The old woman clutched her arm and held her fast. "Don't you say a
single word about any boys," she commanded. "I hate boys," she
exploded, "they're the worry of our lives, Car'line and mine,--they get
into our garden, and steal all our fruit, and they hang on behind our
chaise when we ride out, and keep me a-lookin' round an' slashin' the
whip at 'em the whole livelong time; O my--_boys!_"
"What in the world is Polly Pepper doing up on those rocks?" cried
Jasper, just spying her. "Come on, Tom, and let's see." And they seized
their caps, and buttoned their jackets against the wind which had just
sprung up, and dashed off to see for themselves.
"Ugh--you go right away!" screamed Car'line's sister, as their heads
appeared over the point of rocks, and shaking both hands fiercely at
them.
"Whew!" whistled Jasper, with his eyes in surprise on Polly.
"And what old party are you?" demanded Tom, finding it easy to talk to
her, as she was by no means a girl. "And do you own this mountain,
anyway?"
"Oh, don't," begged Polly. "And Jasper, if you would go away, please,
and not ask any questions."
"All right," said Jasper, swallowing his disappointment not to know.
"Come on, Tom, Polly doesn't want us here."
"An' I won't have you here," screamed the old woman, harder than ever.
"So get away as soon as you can. Why, you are boys!"
"I know it." Tom bobbed his head at her. "We've always been, ma'am."
"An' boys are good for nothing, an' lazy, an' thieves--yes, I wouldn't
trust 'em." So she kept on as they hurried back over the rocky path.
"That's a tiger for you!" ejaculated Tom. Then he stopped and looked
back a little anxiously. "Aren't you afraid to leave Polly with her?"
"No," said Jasper; "it would trouble Polly to have us stay." Yet he
stopped and looked anxious too. "We will wait here."
And after a while, down came the two searchers--the old woman quite
beside herself now, and scolding every bit of the way,--"that she
didn't see what bright eyes were for when they couldn't find
anything--an' now that Pa'd gone sliding down that mountain, they might
as well give up, she an' Car'line"--when a sudden turn in the path
brought the boys into view waiting behind the rocks. Then all her fury
burst upon them.
"See here, now," cried Tom, suddenly squaring up to her and looking at
the face between the nodding cap-frills, "we are ready to take a
certain amount of abuse, my friend and I, but we won't stand more, I
can tell you."
"Oh, don't," began Polly, clasping her hands. "Oh, Tom, _please_ keep
still. She doesn't know what she's saying, for she's lost her pin with
her father on."
"Hey?" cried Jasper. "Say it again, Polly," while Tom shouted and
roared all through Polly's recital.
"Was it an old fright with a long nose in a blue coat and ruffles, and
as big as a turnip?" he asked between the shouts. While Polly tried to
say, "Yes, I guess so," and Miss Car'line's sister so far overcame her
aversion to boys as to seize him by the arm, Tom shook her off like a
feather. "See here, old party," he cried, "that ancient pin of yours is
reposing in the hotel office at this blessed moment. Jasper and I,"
indicating his friend, "ran across it on the rocks up there more than
an hour ago, and--"
"Oh, Pa's found!" exclaimed the old woman, in a shrill scream of
delight, beginning to trot down to the hotel office.
"Yes, it would have been impossible for Pa to have got off this
mountain without making a landslide," said Tom, after her.