“Oh dear! Only a week more, and then we must go back. Don't you hate the
thoughts of it?” said Jack, as he was giving Jill her early walk on the
beach one August morning.
“Yes, it will be dreadful to leave Gerty and Mamie and all the nice
people. But I'm so much better I won't have to be shut up again, even if
I don't go to school. How I long to see Merry and Molly. Dear things, if
it wasn't for them I should hate going home more than you do,” answered
Jill, stepping along quite briskly, and finding it very hard to resist
breaking into a skip or a run, she felt so well and gay.
“Wish they could be here to-day to see the fun,” said Jack, for it was
the anniversary of the founding of the place, and the people celebrated
it by all sorts of festivity.
“I did want to ask Molly, but your mother is so good to me I couldn't
find courage to do it. Mammy told me not to ask for a thing, and I'm
sure I don't get a chance. I feel just as if I was your truly born
sister, Jack.”
“That's all right, I'm glad you do,” answered Jack, comfortably, though
his mind seemed a little absent and his eyes twinkled when she spoke of
Molly. “Now, you sit in the cubby-house, and keep quiet till the boat
comes in. Then the fun will begin, and you must be fresh and ready to
enjoy it. Don't run off, now, I shall want to know where to find you by
and by.”
“No more running off, thank you. I'll stay here till you come, and
finish this box for Molly; she has a birthday this week, and I've
written to ask what day, so I can send it right up and surprise her.”
Jack's eyes twinkled more than ever as he helped Jill settle herself in
the boat, and then with a whoop he tore over the beach, as if practising
for the race which was to come off in the afternoon.
Jill was so busy with her work that time went quickly, and the early
boat came in just as the last pink shell was stuck in its place. Putting
the box in the sun to dry, she leaned out of her nook to watch the gay
parties land, and go streaming up the pier along the road that went
behind the bank that sheltered her. Flocks of children were running
about on the sand, and presently strangers appeared, eager to see and
enjoy all the delights of this gala-day.
“There's a fat little boy who looks ever so much like Boo,” said Jill
to herself, watching the people and hoping they would not come and find
her, since she had promised to stay till Jack returned.
The fat little boy was staring about him in a blissful sort of maze,
holding a wooden shovel in one hand and the skirts of a young girl with
the other. Her back was turned to Jill, but something in the long
brown braid with a fly-away blue bow hanging down her back looked very
familiar to Jill. So did the gray suit and the Japanese umbrella; but
the hat was strange, and while she was thinking how natural the boots
looked, the girl turned round.
“Why, how much she looks like Molly! It can't be--yes, it might, I do
believe it _is_!” cried Jill, starting up and hardly daring to trust her
own eyes.
As she came out of her nest and showed herself, there could be no doubt
about the other girl, for she gave one shout and came racing over the
beach with both arms out, while her hat blew off unheeded, and the gay
umbrella flew away, to the great delight of all the little people except
Boo, who was upset by his sister's impetuous rush, and lay upon his
back howling. Molly did not do all the running, though, and Jill got her
wish, for, never stopping to think of herself, she was off at once, and
met her friend half-way with an answering cry. It was a pretty sight to
see them run into one another's arms and hug and kiss and talk and skip
in such a state of girlish joy they never cared who saw or laughed at
their innocent raptures.
“You darling dear! where did you come from?” cried Jill, holding Molly
by both shoulders, and shaking her a little to be sure she was real.
“Mrs. Minot sent for us to spend a week. You look so well, I can't
believe my eyes!” answered Molly, patting Jill's cheeks and kissing them
over and over, as if to make sure the bright color would not come off.
“A week? How splendid! Oh, I've such heaps to tell and show you; come
right over to my cubby and see how lovely it is,” said Jill, forgetting
everybody else in her delight at getting Molly.
“I must get poor Boo, and my hat and umbrella, I left them all behind me
when I saw you,” laughed Molly, looking back.
But Mrs. Minot and Jack had consoled Boo and collected the scattered
property, so the girls went on arm in arm, and had a fine time before
any one had the heart to disturb them. Molly was charmed with the boat,
and Jill very glad the box was done in season. Both had so much to
tell and hear and plan, that they would have sat there for ever if
bathing-time had not come, and the beach suddenly looked like a bed of
red and yellow tulips, for every one took a dip, and the strangers added
much to the fun.
Molly could swim like a duck, and quite covered herself with glory by
diving off the pier. Jack undertook to teach Boo, who was a promising
pupil, being so plump that he could not sink if he tried. Jill was soon
through, and lay on the sand enjoying the antics of the bathers till she
was so faint with laughter she was glad to hear the dinner-horn and do
the honors of the Willows to Molly, whose room was next hers.
Boat-races came first in the afternoon, and the girls watched them,
sitting luxuriously in the nest, with the ladies and children close by.
The sailing-matches were very pretty to see; but Molly and Jill were
more interested in the rowing, for Frank and the bicycle boy pulled one
boat, and the friends felt that this one must win. It did, though the
race was not very exciting nor the prize of great worth; but the boys
and girls were satisfied, and Jack was much exalted, for he always told
Frank he could do great things if he would only drop books and “go in on
his muscle.”
Foot-races followed, and, burning to distinguish himself also, Jack
insisted on trying, though his mother warned him that the weak leg might
be harmed, and he had his own doubts about it, as he was all out of
practice. However, he took his place with a handkerchief tied round his
head, red shirt and stockings, and his sleeves rolled up as if he meant
business. Jill and Molly could not sit still during this race, and stood
on the bank quite trembling with excitement as the half-dozen runners
stood in a line at the starting-post waiting for the word “Go!”
Off they went at last over the smooth beach to the pole with the flag
at the further end, and every one watched them with mingled interest
and merriment, for they were a droll set, and the running not at all
scientific with most of them. One young fisherman with big boots over
his trousers started off at a great pace, pounding along in the most
dogged way, while a little chap in a tight bathing-suit with very thin
legs skimmed by him, looking so like a sand-piper it was impossible to
help laughing at both. Jack's former training stood him in good stead
now; for he went to work in professional style, and kept a steady trot
till the flagpole had been passed, then he put on his speed and shot
ahead of all the rest, several of whom broke down and gave up. But Cox
and Bacon held on gallantly; and soon it was evident that the sturdy
legs in the knickerbockers were gaining fast, for Jack gave his ankle an
ugly wrench on a round pebble, and the weak knee began to fail. He
did his best, however, and quite a breeze of enthusiasm stirred the
spectators as the three boys came down the course like mettlesome
horses, panting, pale, or purple, but each bound to win at any cost.
“Now, Bacon!” “Go it, Minot!” “Hit him up, Cox!” “Jack's ahead!” “No, he
isn't!” “Here they come!” “Bacon's done it!” shouted the other boys, and
they were right; Bacon had won, for the gray legs came in just half a
yard ahead of the red ones, and Minot tumbled into his brother's arms
with hardly breath enough left to gasp out, good-humoredly, “All right,
I'm glad he beat!”
Then the victor was congratulated and borne off by his friends to
refresh himself, while the lookers-on scattered to see a game of tennis
and the shooting of the Archery Club up at the hotel. Jack was soon
rested, and, making light of his defeat, insisted on taking the girls to
see the fun. So they drove up in the old omnibus, and enjoyed the pretty
sight very much; for the young ladies were in uniform, and the broad
green ribbons over the white dresses, the gay quivers, long bows, and
big targets, made a lively scene. The shooting was good; a handsome
damsel got the prize of a dozen arrows, and every one clapped in the
most enthusiastic manner.
Molly and Jill did not care about tennis, so they went home to rest
and dress for the evening, because to their minds the dancing, the
illumination, and the fireworks were the best fun of all. Jill's white
bunting with cherry ribbons was very becoming, and the lively feet in
the new slippers patted the floor impatiently as the sound of dance
music came down to the Willows after tea, and the other girls waltzed on
the wide piazza because they could not keep still.
“No dancing for me, but Molly must have a good time. You'll see that she
does, won't you, boys?” said Jill, who knew that her share of the fun
would be lying on a settee and watching the rest enjoy her favorite
pastime.
Frank and Jack promised, and kept their word handsomely; for there was
plenty of room in the great dancing-hall at the hotel, and the band in
the pavilion played such inspiring music that, as the bicycle boy said,
“Every one who had a leg couldn't help shaking it.” Molly was twirled
about to her heart's content, and flew hither and thither like a blue
butterfly; for all the lads liked her, and she kept running up to tell
Jill the funny things they said and did.
As night darkened from all the houses in the valley, on the cliffs and
along the shore lights shone and sparkled; for every one decorated with
gay lanterns, and several yachts in the bay strung colored lamps about
the little vessels, making a pretty picture on the quiet sea. Jill
thought she had never seen anything so like fairy-land, and felt very
like one in a dream as she drove slowly up and down with Mamie, Gerty,
Molly, and Mrs. Cox in the carriage, so that she might see it all
without too much fatigue. It was very lovely; and when rockets began
to whizz, filling the air with golden rain, a shower of colored stars,
fiery dragons, or glittering wheels, the girls could only shriek with
delight, and beg to stay a little longer each time the prudent lady
proposed going home.
It had to be at last; but Molly and Jill comforted themselves by a long
talk in bed, for it was impossible to sleep with glares of light coming
every few minutes, flocks of people talking and tramping by in the road,
and bursts of music floating down to them as the older but not wiser
revellers kept up the merriment till a late hour. They dropped off at
last; but Jill had the nightmare, and Molly was waked up by a violent
jerking of her braid as Jill tried to tow her along, dreaming she was a
boat.
They were too sleepy to laugh much then, but next morning they made
merry over it, and went to breakfast with such happy faces that all the
young folks pronounced Jill's friend a most delightful girl. What a good
time Molly did have that week! Other people were going to leave also,
and therefore much picnicking, boating, and driving was crowded into
the last days. Clambakes on the shore, charades in the studio,
sewing-parties at the boat, evening frolics in the big dining-room,
farewell calls, gifts, and invitations, all sorts of plans for next
summer, and vows of eternal friendship exchanged between people who
would soon forget each other. It was very pleasant, till poor Boo
innocently added to the excitement by poisoning a few of his neighbors
with a bad lobster.
The ambitious little soul pined to catch one of these mysterious but
lovely red creatures, and spent days fishing on the beach, investigating
holes and corners, and tagging after the old man who supplied the house.
One day after a high wind he found several “lobs” washed up on the
beach, and, though disappointed at their color, he picked out a big one,
and set off to show his prize to Molly. Half-way home he met the old
man on his way with a basket of fish, and being tired of lugging his
contribution laid it with the others, meaning to explain later. No one
saw him do it, as the old man was busy with his pipe; and Boo ran back
to get more dear lobs, leaving his treasure to go into the kettle and
appear at supper, by which time he had forgotten all about it.
Fortunately none of the children ate any, but several older people were
made ill, and quite a panic prevailed that night as one after the other
called up the doctor, who was boarding close by; and good Mrs. Grey,
the hostess, ran about with hot flannels, bottles of medicine, and
distracted messages from room to room. All were comfortable by morning,
but the friends of the sufferers lay in wait for the old fisherman,
and gave him a good scolding for his carelessness. The poor man was
protesting his innocence when Boo, who was passing by, looked into the
basket, and asked what had become of his lob. A few questions brought
the truth to light, and a general laugh put every one in good humor,
when poor Boo mildly said, by way of explanation,--
“I fought I was helpin' Mrs. Dray, and I did want to see the dreen lob
come out all red when she boiled him. But I fordot, and I don't fink
I'll ever find such a nice big one any more.”
“For our sakes, I hope you won't, my dear,” said Mrs. Hammond, who had
been nursing one of the sufferers.
“It's lucky we are going home to-morrow, or that child would be the
death of himself and everybody else. He is perfectly crazy about fish,
and I've pulled him out of that old lobster-pot on the beach a dozen
times,” groaned Molly, much afflicted by the mishaps of her young
charge.
There was a great breaking up next day, and the old omnibus went off to
the station with Bacon hanging on behind, the bicycle boy and his
iron whirligig atop, and heads popping out of all the windows for last
good-byes. Our party and the Hammonds were going by boat, and were all
ready to start for the pier when Boo and little Harry were missing.
Molly, the maid, and both boys ran different ways to find them; and all
sorts of dreadful suggestions were being made when shouts of laughter
were heard from the beach, and the truants appeared, proudly dragging
in Harry's little wagon a dead devil-fish, as the natives call that ugly
thing which looks like a magnified tadpole--all head and no body.
“We've dot him!” called the innocents, tugging up their prize with such
solemn satisfaction it was impossible to help laughing.
“I always wanted to tatch a whale, and this is a baby one, I fink. A boy
said, when they wanted to die they comed on the sand and did it, and we
saw this one go dead just now. Ain't he pretty?” asked Boo, displaying
the immense mouth with fond pride, while his friend flapped the tail.
“What are you going to do with him?” said Mrs. Hammond, regarding her
infant as if she often asked herself the same question about her boy.
“Wap him up in a paper and tate him home to pay wid,” answered Harry,
with such confidence in his big blue eyes that it was very hard to
disappoint his hopes and tell him the treasure must be left behind.
Wails of despair burst from both children as the hard-hearted boys
tipped out the little whale, and hustled the indignant fishermen on
board the boat, which had been whistling for them impatiently. Boo
recovered his spirits first, and gulping down a sob that nearly shook
his hat off, consoled his companion in affliction and convulsed his
friends by taking from his pocket several little crabs, the remains of
a jelly-fish, and such a collection of pebbles that Frank understood why
he found the fat boy such a burden when he shouldered him, kicking and
howling, in the late run to the boat. These delicate toys healed the
wounds of Boo and Harry, and they were soon happily walking the little
“trabs” about inside a stone wall of their own building, while the
others rested after their exertions, and laid plans for coming to the
Willows another year, as people usually did who had once tasted the
wholesome delights and cordial hospitality of this charming place.