CHAPTER IX

THE FLOATING BRIDGE

Next morning the young Dorrances experienced for the first time the joy

of going to market.

Their appointed household tasks were all done first, for Dorothy had

insisted on that. Then she and Tessie had conferred as to what was

needed, and she had made out a list.

Grandma Dorrance had decreed against a sailboat for the children alone;

but they were at liberty to go in a rowboat.

So down the steps the four ran, and found Mr. Hickox waiting for them at

the dock.

He had put a boat in the water for them. It was a round-bottomed boat,

but wide and roomy; easy to row and provided with two pairs of shining

oars.

"Can any of you row?" inquired Mr. Hickox, looking uncertainly at the

children; "for I can't go along with you this morning. Mrs. Hickox, she

wants me to work in the garden,--she says the weeds are higher 'n a

kite."

"We can row," said Leicester; "but not so very well. We haven't had much

experience, you know. But we're going to learn."

"I thought we'd each have a boat," said Fairy; "I want to learn to row.

I want to be a 'sperinshed boat-lady."

"You can learn to row, baby, but you can't go in a boat all by yourself

until you _have_ learned."

"But I 'most know how now."

"Well I'll tell you how we'll fix it; two of us will row going over, and

the other two can row coming back. To divide up evenly, suppose Dorothy

and Lilian row over, and Fairy and I will row home." This was a bit of

self-sacrifice on Leicester's part, for he was most eager to handle the

oars himself.

Mr. Hickox quite appreciated the boy's attitude, and nodded approvingly

at him but he only said: "All right, sonny, you sit in the stern and

steer, and I make no doubt these young ladies'll row you over in fine

shape."

Fairy was safely settled in the bow, with an admonition to sit still for

once in her life; and then Dorothy and Lilian excitedly grasped the oars

and splashed away.

It was not very skilful rowing, but it propelled the boat, and by the

aid of Leicester's steering, they made a progressive, if somewhat zigzag

course.

The morning was perfect. The lake calm and placid, with tiny soft

ripples all over it. The green hills sloped down to its shore on all

sides; while here and there, at long intervals, a house or a building

gleamed white among the trees. The exhilarating air, and the excitement

of the occasion roused the Dorrances' spirits far above normal,--which

is saying a great deal.

The arms of the rowers grew very tired; partly because they were so

unused to vigorous exercise, and partly because the rowing was far more

energetic than scientific.

But the girls didn't mind being tired, and pulled away gleefully to an

accompaniment of laughter and song.

Leicester would have relieved them, but they had promised grandma they

would not move around or change places in the boat until they had become

more accustomed to nautical ways.

But it was only a mile, after all, and they finally landed at Dolan's

Point, and guided the bow of their boat up on to the beach in a truly

shipshape manner. Fairy sprang out with a bound that landed her on the

dry sand; Leicester followed, and then helped the exhausted but

victorious galley-slaves to alight.

"Isn't it glorious!" cried Dorothy, panting for breath, but aglow with

happiness.

"Fine!" agreed Lilian, but she looked a little ruefully at eight

blisters on her pink palms.

"That's all right," said Leicester, cheerfully; "you'll get calloused

after a while; blisters always have to come first."

"Oh, pooh, I don't mind them a bit," protested Lilian; for the Dorrances

were all of a plucky disposition.

On they went, following the directions given them by Mr. Hickox, and

making wonderful explorations at every turn.

Dolan's Point seemed to be occupied principally by a large boathouse.

This belonged to a club-house, which was farther up the hill, and whose

turrets and gables shining in the morning sunlight, looked like those of

an old castle.

Their way lay across the point, and then they were to cross a small arm

of the lake by means of a bridge.

Dorothy had hoped for a rustic bridge, and Leicester had told her that

it would probably be two foot-planks and a hand-rail.

But when they saw the bridge itself, they were really struck speechless

with wonder and delight. It was a floating bridge, built of logs. It was

perhaps eight feet wide, and was made by logs laid transversely and

close together. They were held in place by immense iron chains which

went alternately over and under the logs at their ends. Except at the

sides of the bridge, the logs were not visible for they were covered

with a deep layer of soil on which grew luxuriant green grass. The thick

grass had been mowed and cared for until it resembled a soft velvet

carpet.

On either side of the bridge was a hand-rail of rope, supported at

intervals by wooden uprights. The rope rails and the uprights were both

covered with carefully trained vines. Among these were morning-glory

vines, and their pink and purple blossoms made an exquisite floral

decoration.

Evidently the bridge was in charge of somebody who loved to care for it,

and who enjoyed keeping it in order.

"Do you suppose we walk on it?" asked Fairy, with a sort of awe in her

voice.

"Yes," said Leicester. "It must be meant for that; but isn't it the most

beautiful thing you ever saw!"

It certainly was, and the children stepped on to it gently, and walked

slowly as one would walk in a church aisle.

Although suspended at both ends, almost the whole length of the bridge

rested on the water, and swayed gently with the rippling of the lake. It

was a delicious sensation to walk on the unstable turf, and feel it move

slightly under foot.

As they advanced further, it seemed as if they were floating steadily

along, and Fairy grasped Leicester's hand with a little tremor. When

they reached the middle of the bridge they all sat down on the grass,

and discussed the wonderful affair.

"I shall spend most of my time here," said Dorothy; "it seems to be

public property, and I like it better than any park I have ever seen."

"It's lovely," agreed Lilian; "I'd like to bring a book and sit here all

day and read."

"But it's so funny," said Fairy; "it's a bridge, and it's a park, and

it's a garden, and it's a front yard,--and yet all the time it's a

bridge."

"Well, let's go on," said Leicester. "I suppose it will keep, and we can

walk back over it. And if we don't get our marketing done, we'll be like

the old woman who didn't get home in time to make her apple-dumplings."

"If she had found this bridge," declared Dorothy, "she never would have

gone home at all, and her story would never have been told."

But they all scrambled up and went on merrily towards the grocery store.

The store itself was a delight, as real country stores always are. Mr.

Bill Hodges was a storekeeper of the affable type, and expressed great

interest in his new customers.

He regaled them with ginger-snaps and thin slivers of cheese, which he

cut off and proffered on the point of a huge shiny-bladed knife. This

refreshment was very acceptable, and when he supplemented it with a

glass of milk all around, Dorothy was so grateful that she felt as if

she ought to buy out his whole stock.

But putting on a most housewifely air, she showed Mr. Hodges her list of

needs, and inquired if he could supply them.

"Bless your heart, yes," he replied. "Bill Hodges is the man to purvide

you with them things. Shall I send 'em to you?"

"Oh, can you?" said Dorothy. "I didn't know you delivered goods. I'd be

glad if you would send the bag of flour and the potatoes, but most of

the smaller things we can carry ourselves."

"Well I swan!" exclaimed Mr. Bill Hodges; "you're real bright, you air.

How did ye come over? Walk?"

"No, sir," said Leicester. "We came in a rowboat; and then walked across

the Point and over the bridge. We think that bridge very wonderful."

"And very beautiful," added Lilian. "Who keeps it so nice?"

"And doesn't it ever fall down in the water?" asked Fairy; "or doesn't

the mud wash off, or don't people fall off of it and get drownded? and

how do you cut the grass, and how do you water the flowers? It's just

like a conservatorory!"

As Mr. Bill Hodges was something of a talker himself, he was surprised

to be outdone in his own line by the golden-haired stranger-child, who,

apparently without effort, reeled off such a string of questions. But as

they referred to a subject dear to his heart he was delighted to answer

them.

"That bridge, my young friends, is my joy and delight. Nobody touches

that bridge, to take care of it, but Bill Hodges,--that's me. I'm proud

of that bridge, I am, and I don't know what I'd do, if I didn't have it

to care for. I'm glad you like it; I ain't got nary chick nor child to

run across it. So whenever you young folks feel like coming over to look

at it, I'll be pleased and proud to have ye; pleased and proud, that's

what I'll be; so come early and come often, come one and come all."

"We'll bring our grandmother over to see it," said Dorothy, "just as

soon as we can manage to do so."

"Do," said Mr. Hodges, heartily. "Bring her along, bring her along. Glad

to welcome her, I'm sure. Now I'll go 'long and help you tote your

bundles to your boat. I don't have crowds of customers this time of day,

and I can just as well go as not."

The kind-hearted old man filled a basket with their purchases, and

trudged along beside the children.

"Ain't it purty!" he exclaimed as they crossed the bridge. "Oh, _ain't_

it purty?"

"It is," said Dorothy. "I don't wonder you love it."

"And there ain't another like it in the whole world," went on the

prideful Hodges. "Of course there are floating bridges, but no-wheres is

there one as purty as this."

The children willingly agreed to this statement, and praised the bridge

quite to the content of its owner.

"Fish much?" Mr. Hodges inquired casually of Leicester.

"Well, we haven't yet. You see we only arrived yesterday, and we're not

fairly settled yet."

"Find plenty of fishin' tackle over to my place. Come along when you're

ready, and Bill Hodges'll fit ye out. Pretty big proposition,--you kids

shakin' around in that great empty hotel."

"Yes, but we like it," said Leicester; "it just suits us, and we're

going to have a fine time all summer."

"Hope ye will, hope ye will. There ain't been nobody livin' there now

for two summers and I'm right down glad to have somebody into it."

"Why do you suppose they couldn't make it pay as a hotel?" asked

Dorothy.

"Well, it was most always the proprietor's fault. Yes, it was the

proprietor's fault. Nice people would come up there to board, and then

Harding,--he was the last fellow that tried to run it,--he wouldn't

treat 'em nice. He'd scrimp 'em, and purty nigh starve 'em. Ye can't

keep boarders that way. And so of course the boarders kept leavin', and

so the hotel got a bad name, and so nobody wants to try a hand at it

again."

When they reached the boat, Mr. Hodges stowed their basket away for

them, helped the children in and pushed the boat off.

With gay good-byes and promises to come soon again, the children rowed

away.

Leicester and Fairy took the oars this time, and Fairy's comical

splashing about made fun for them all. She soon declared she had rowed

enough for one day, but Leicester proved himself well able to get the

boat across the lake without assistance.

The Dorrance Domain · 第 9 / 24 章