and running back and forth. It was a pen enclosed with chicken wire,
raised about two feet off the ground, with a little box at one end for
a shelter. They gathered clover industriously, and the floor of the pen
was carpeted with fresh green leaves and fragrant white blossoms. Bees
zoomed in and out of the chicken wire to investigate. Billy placed a
crock of cool, fresh water for each rabbit, and Mom smiled.
“Don’t you think that’s a lot of food and drink for just two tiny
infants?” she asked.
“Oh, that’s all right, Mom,” said Billy pulling up more clover by the
roots. “They’re small now, but they really eat a lot, and they’ll grow.”
Mrs. Landry came through the gap in the hedge to see the new arrivals,
and she promised Billy all her carrot tops. “When they grow up, I’ll
expect the first fur coat as my share,” she added jokingly.
The air was hot and still, and there were clouds piling up in the west.
Before Mom went back to the cottage she warned the children to pick up
all the tools, and put them away.
“It looks like a storm,” she said. “Don’t leave any thing out that
might get wet and rust.”
Billy nailed a small canvas flap to the door of the shelter, and then
he wondered if he should take the rabbits down to the cottage for the
night. The wind was rising and there were low growls of thunder. He
looked into the shelter. They were snug and warm and dry, and they were
nestled close to each other, fast asleep. He smiled. Better leave them
alone, he thought. Putting the tools away, he snapped the lock on the
garage door and hurried down to the front lot.
Janie met him at the door. “Hurry, Bill,” she said, “Mom said we should
fasten the boat. It’s pitching around out there.”
The lake turned the color of lead, and the air that had been so warm
suddenly turned cold and sharp. Lightning streaked across the sky like
a whip followed by a frightening crash of thunder that seemed to make
the earth shake. Mom called from the front porch: “Here comes the
rain,” and they all turned to watch.
The storm was coming toward them from the northern shore of the lake,
and as it advanced it flattened out the waves in its path, until
finally the entire lake was a misty gray dimpled carpet. It smacked the
children on their hot cheeks, and they squealed and held their arms in
the air and danced around. Mom called again. “Come in,” she cried,
“you’ll be struck by lightning.” They ran for the porch. The rain
slashed at their bare legs and the wind slammed the door behind them.
Davey and Butch were sitting on James’ bed, and every time the thunder
would roll Butchie would stick his head under the pillow. Mom got the
candles out, and Grandma started to boil water for tea.
“Might as well heat it while I can,” she said. “The power will be
turned off now, any minute.” As she spoke there was a sudden wild crash
followed by a shuddering roar of thunder, and every light went out all
the way around the lake.
“Oh well,” said Grandma, “we won’t have tea after all. We’ll have milk.
I’m sure it will be better for us.”
In a few moments there was candlelight in the cottage. James ate
crackers and milk out of a blue bowl, and the candle made wavering
designs on the wall. The flame flickered in the draft, and James
snuggled closer in his safe pillows. He imagined he was far out at sea.
He was strapped to his bunk in a lunging merchantman, with a bearded
pirate guarding the door, holding a great two-edged sword in his teeth.
Just then Billy opened the door, and James roared out: “Avast ye scum!
Shiver me timbers and nail me mizzen mast if I don’t split ye in two!”
Billy looked startled and then he grinned. “Oh, you’ve been reading
Treasure Island again. Better not let Mom catch you reading by
candlelight.”
“Abe Lincoln did, and George Washington too, I betcha.”
“Well, maybe they got away with it, but you won’t.” said Bill. “Wait
till I have my supper, and we’ll play rummy.”
Supper was spooky, like a Hallowe’en party. There were candles in tall
hurricane lamps, and none of the food was hot. The wind howled and
rattled at the windows, and the rain beat at the panes and trickled in
between the sash and the sill. Whenever the lightning would brighten
the sky they would run to the windows to watch the lake.
The raft leaped at its anchor like a frightened horse. Janie pulled her
knees up under her chin and hugged her legs.
“I’m glad Daddy isn’t here tonight,” she said. “He always feels sorry
for the raft when it’s left out there in the lake all alone during a
storm.”
“Humpf,” said Grandma, as she kept right on with her knitting. “What
does he want us to do? Bring it right up here on the porch with us?”
Janie giggled, but Billy looked suddenly serious. The rabbits, he
thought. How were they? Supposing they were wet and cold? He glanced
at Mom, but changed his mind without speaking. She wouldn’t let him go
out on a night like this.
He fidgeted for a while and then got up and went into the middle
bedroom. Without a flashlight it was almost impossible to find anything
in the clothes closet, but by rummaging around for a while he managed
to find an old leather jacket and a base ball cap. He carefully opened
the window and loosened the screen and then dropped down to the terrace.
The wind grabbed him by the shoulders and twirled him around and the
rain drenched him. The window had to be closed again and the screen
pushed back into place before he started for the back yard.
Crouching like a prize fighter, he fought his way, step by step, up
through the rock garden. Small branches and leaves were whirling along
through the air, and one branch whacked him on the head as it dropped
to the ground. Just as he reached the gate there came a flash of
brilliant lightning that for a moment made everything seem like day.
The winding black-top road looked like a rushing river, and all the
trees and bushes were bent over pointing in the direction of the storm.
Then it was dark again, and he started in the direction of the little
cottage. The garage was just forty feet beyond, but it was so dark it
seemed much farther, and just as he got there he slipped and fell full
length in the grass. The force of the driving rain seemed to pin him
down, and half crawling, stumbling and slipping, he made his way to the
rabbit hutch. The chicken wire wall guided him to the shelter. Just
then there was another flash of lightning and he saw that the canvas
flap had blown off in the wind. He reached inside, and there were the
little rabbits huddled together. They were soaking wet, and their
hearts were thumping in fright.
“I’ll take you down to the cottage and get you warm and dry again.”
He opened the front of his jacket and tucked them inside. They snuggled
up close, and he walked carefully so as not to fall and hurt them. By
being very careful to watch every step, he got as far as the road, but
the gutter was his downfall. Slip! Splash! Down went Billy, Blackie and
Queen. The breath was almost knocked out of him, but the rabbits were
safe.
Struggling to his feet, he got as far as the gate post before the next
streak of lightning came hurtling down through the night. He crouched
instinctively against the big stone post, and then he remembered
Daddy’s warning about never leaning against a fence or a tree during
a severe storm. Cows had been electrocuted because they stood near a
fence or a tree when the lightning struck. Rising once more, he pulled
his jacket more closely about him and shivered as he hurried down the
wet and slippery steps.
Back on the terrace, he breathed easier. If he could only get in
quietly, they might never have missed him. Holding the rabbits
carefully with one hand, he pulled at the screen with the other. It
wouldn’t budge. He tried again. The wind had blown it back into place,
and there was no way of getting hold of it to loosen it again.
Then he remembered that James was reading in the bedroom next door. He
hurried over and scratched on the screen. There was no response. He
knocked, but the storm made so much noise that a gentle knocking could
not be heard. He was handicapped by having only one hand to work with,
but he managed to turn the buttons that held the screen in place. Then
he pried it loose by inserting his finger in the little hole at the
side and down it came, right in his face!
James was deep in a book, and he didn’t hear a thing. Even the storm
raging overhead seemed far away. He sailed the Spanish Main, and the
pirates were boarding his ship. Cruel, bearded men tore up and down the
deck, swinging their cutlasses and searching for victims.
Just then the window was carefully raised and the wind whistled
into the room, almost extinguishing the candle. James looked up in
astonishment to behold a bedraggled arm on the sill. He took a deep
breath and then screamed for all he was worth. His startled screams
tore through the house and brought the whole family to his bedside. Mom
got there first. She turned her flashlight to the open window and there
stood Bill, as wet and dirty a boy as ever was seen. He carefully put
one rabbit down on the foot of the bed and then he reached into his
jacket and rescued the other.
“Billy Murray!” cried Mom, her voice rising. “Have you lost your mind?
What are you doing out there? Get into the house right this minute
before you catch your death of cold.”
“No, no,” she continued, as he tried to boost himself through the
window. “Come around to the door!” She ran around to the side of the
house and opened the door, and Billy poured in with the rain. He was
smeared with mud, and little streams ran from his hands and feet and
off the tail of his jacket. Mom spluttered and ran for dry towels.
Grandma heated some water on the emergency canned heat stove, so that
she could make some hot lemonade for him. Almost before he knew it, the
fugitive was warm and dry and clean again, and safely tucked in bed.
The storm roared on. A big branch on the poplar tree tore loose and
fell to the ground with a crash. When the lightning flashed, they could
see that a pool had formed in the low part of the yard.
Billy lay in bed watching Davey say his prayers when Mom came up,
carrying a candle in one hand and a shoe box in the other. She came
over and sat on the edge of his bed.
“Here you are, Bedivere,” she said, and she placed the shoe box beside
him. He looked in and saw Blackie and Queen fast asleep on a bed of
cotton batting.
“Thank you, Mom,” he grinned. “Did you call me Bedivere because I had
to go to bed?”
“No,” Mom smiled. “I called you Bedivere because you braved all manner
of dragons to go to the rescue of the weak and the helpless.”
“Oh,” said Billy. “You mean a knight that rides on a white horse.”
“Yes, one of King Arthur’s knights. You did a fine and brave deed
tonight Billy, but do you realize that you might have been hurt out
there in the storm? And besides, you almost frightened the wits out of
poor James.”
“Yes, Mom,” said Billy. “I’m sorry.”
She kissed him and picked up the candle. “Billy,” she said. “Remember
the weak and the helpless, and remember to use your head.”
“Yes, Mom,” said Billy again, and he said it sleepily. The candlelight
went down, down, down the stairs, and Mom’s shadow walked beside her.
Then it was dark, and there was only the rain on the roof and the wind
under the eaves. Billy reached out and felt the little rabbits. They
were quiet and warm.
“Good night, little guys,” he said, and turned over to go to sleep, but
there was a small figure beside his bed.
“Billy,” whispered Davey. “Move over. I want to sleep with you. I’m
scared.”
“All right,” said Billy, rolling over to make room for him. “Come on
in. I’m Bedivere. I’ll protect you.”
Davey felt around cautiously. “Where are the rabbits?” he whispered.
“In a shoe box, on my dresser,” said Bill.
“Oh,” said Davey, and his disappointment was so evident, even in the
dark, that Billy smiled. “I couldn’t have them right here in bed with
me,” he explained. “I might roll on them and squash them.”
“Yes, that’s right,” said Davey reluctantly. “Well, good night, Bill. I
guess I’ll go back to my own bed now.”
“Hey, hold on. I thought you wanted to sleep with me because you were
scared.”
“Well,” Davey admitted, “it was partly that, and partly because I
wanted to sleep with the rabbits.”
“Ha! Ha!” Billy laughed. “I thought so.”
“Good night, Davey.”
“Good night, Bill.”
By morning the sky was clear and bright. The ground was littered with
broken branches, and sure enough, there was a sort of lagoon formed by
the rain water in the low part of the front yard. “Let’s make a raft,”
said Janie. “We can use some of those long planks down in front.” After
breakfast they started out to play, and Grandma called them back.
“You’ll get slivers in your feet if you play barefoot on those planks,”
she said. “But we’ll get our shoes wet if we wear _them_,” said Jane.
Grandma looked at them over the top of her glasses. “Ever hear of
rubber boots?” she asked. They burrowed into the darkest corner of the
clothes closet under the stairway and found some tall rubber boots
that had belonged to Grandpa. They were much too large and they made a
lovely squashy sound when they walked.
There were lots of interesting things to do after the storm. The
violence of the wind had driven the raft several hundred yards to the
west and it had to be towed back to where it belonged. Before they
could get to the raft they had to bale out the boat. It was so full
of water that it was almost sunk where it lay at the pier. An awning
had come loose and Billy climbed up on a stepladder and tacked it back
into place. The big branch that had blown off the poplar tree lay there
in the yard like a fallen giant. They sat on the smaller branches and
sprang up and down like on a diving board.
“Let’s pretend we’re Swiss Family Robinson,” said Jane, “and sail off
on our raft.”
“That’s a corking good idea,” said Bill. “I’ll be the father and you be
the mother and Davey can be our child.”
“I’ll go and get some lunch,” said Davey, always practical. He was back
in no time at all with a brown paper bag full of cookies, and in the
other arm he carried the shoe box cradle. “James said we could take the
rabbits along,” he said joyfully, “only we shouldn’t drown ’em.”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Bill. “Let’s rig up a sail and go
out and rescue the big raft with this little raft.” They found a piece
of wash line to use for a tow rope and they rigged a sail with an old
square of canvas that they found in the garage. They had trouble with
the mast. It wasn’t fastened securely and it flopped this way and that
with the weight of the canvas. Finally, with much pushing and pulling
and grunting it was made secure.
The surface of the lake was calm, but there was just enough rise and
fall to keep the planks awash, so they sat on cracker boxes to keep
dry. “We’d better take some oars with us,” Janie said, “so that we can
paddle home in case the wind fails us.” “Good idea,” said Bill, and a
pair of oars were lashed down to the plank floor.
At last they were ready to start. Davey and Jane sat on the cracker
box before the mast. Davey held the rabbits on his lap. Billy sat on
the cracker box behind the mast with the paper bag of cookies and the
coiled tow rope beside him. He manipulated the sail by pulling guide
ropes one way or the other. They waved good-by to the folks on the
porch as if they were leaving on an ocean cruise and then they poled
their way out of the shallow water in their front yard, into Mrs.
Saunders’ front yard, and then out into the open waters of the lake.
There was just enough air moving to catch the sail and they drifted
along slowly in the direction of the big raft. The lake was shallow
here. The ripples washed over the toes of their rubber boots and Billy
sang:
“A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
Where codfish wiggle their tails
In an ocean two feet deep.”
They passed Ben, the handy man, on his way out to the fishing grounds.
“Where you kids bound for in that contraption?” he called.
They waved their hands and shouted back at him, “We’re going to rescue
our raft. It blew away in the storm last night.”
“Where’s the other one?” he wanted to know. “Where’s James?”
“He’s in bed today,” Janie shouted across the water. “He fell off the
roof and sprained his arm.”
“Fell off the roof!” Ben repeated in astonishment. “Land sakes,
what are you Murray kids going to try next?” He shook his head in
bewilderment and rowed away.
When they reached the raft they fastened it securely to the small raft,
and then they all clambered on for inspection. “Let’s bring our cracker
boxes up here on the big raft,” said Billy, “and the rabbits too. It’s
dry up here.”
They sat and munched cookies and viewed their surroundings. “It’s like
a little island,” Janie said.
“I’m glad I’m not shipwrecked here,” said Bill. “It’s all right on a
nice morning like this, but not on a night like last night.”
Getting back home wasn’t quite so simple as it seemed to be when they
first thought of it. They couldn’t use the sail because what slight
breeze there was, was against them. The big raft was an awkward thing
to tow, and as they struggled with the problem, one of the Landry boys
came pop-pop-popping along side in his motor boat.
“What are you kids trying to do now,” he inquired. And then, without
waiting for an answer, he said, “Throw me a line and I’ll tow you
home.” It was wonderfully simple. The motor boat led the way, then the
board raft with Billy on a cracker box, and last of all the big raft
with Janie sitting proudly on a cracker box in the center and Davey
dragging his feet in the water at the back.
They put the big raft just where it belonged and then pop-popped into
shore behind the motor boat. “Thank you, thank you,” they cried as they
reached the pier. The Landry boy grinned and waved his arm. “Think
nothing of it,” he said. “You can do the same for me some time when I’m
ship wrecked.”
The lagoon in the front yard was beginning to dry up, so they
dismantled their board raft at the pier. Mom came down to greet them.
“At the risk of being unpopular,” she said, “I’ll have to remind you to
put all that stuff back where it came from.”
Janie and Bill groaned. “Can’t we do it after we eat? We’re so hungry!”
“No. Clean up right away, and then you won’t have to come back to it.”
Davey didn’t mind. “Let’s get the wheelbarrow,” he said. “We’ll load
all the stuff on it, and you can push, Billy, and I’ll ride on top.”
Mom laughed at the dismay on Billy’s face, and she tousled his hair.
“No, Davey,” she said. “Billy is the strong man of the family, but he
isn’t St. Christopher. If each one of you will take a load back to the
garage you’ll be finished in five minutes. I want you to hurry for
another reason too. Lunch is ready, and Mrs. Williams sent two freezing
trays of ice-cream over for James. Perhaps you could help him eat it.”
“Oh, boy,” said Billy, and he and Jane ran for the wheelbarrow. Davey
was given the cracker boxes to take back to the garage, and before ten
minutes were up they had finished and were gathered around the table.
[Illustration]
_Chapter Ten_
_Janie Earns a Dollar_
[Illustration]
A fat china pig stood on Jane’s dresser. He made no jingle as she shook
him. Billy and James made money cutting grass in the spring and summer,
and shoveling snow in the winter. It seemed they could always earn a
nickel or a dime, but Janie dearly loved an ice-cream cone or a new
hair bow, and her allowance vanished almost as soon as it appeared.
“Piggy, old fellow,” she promised, patting his fat sides. “I’m going to
feed you today.”
Mom was down at the farmer’s buying eggs, so Janie talked it over with
Grandma.
“I suppose I could help weed Mrs. Williams’ garden like the boys do,
but it does get so hot, and the mosquitoes are quite bad.”
Grandma said, “Um H’m,” and continued to knit. Janie leaned closer and
confided, “You know, I made breakfasts for a while last summer, but I
had to give that up. I had so much trouble waking up.”
“How about helping Aunt Claire cut green beans?”
“Oh, please! I just can’t bear to cut green beans,” wailed Jane. “I
must find something more ... well ... more interesting.”
Grandma clicked her needles and said: “By the time you’re as old as I
am, young lady, you’ll find that most ways of earning money are neither
interesting nor easy. You’ll learn that you just grab hold of the job
at hand and stick to it till it’s finished.”
Mom came in just then and Janie told her of her great poverty and her
dire need. “Why I have just the thing for you, dear. I met Mrs. Peters
at church last Sunday, and she said that she and her husband would like
to go to the movies Saturday night if they only had someone to take
care of Sammy.”
Janie’s eyes lit up. “Oh Mom, I know him. He likes me. I could take
care of him easily.”
“Yes,” said her mother, carefully putting down the egg basket. “I think
you could. Why don’t you run down the road and ask Mrs. Peters right
now?”
“Here I go,” said Janie, with enthusiasm.
Sammy was playing in the garden when she got there. He was a dear
little boy, about two and a half years old, with big brown eyes and
short dark curly hair. He was delighted to see Jane and offered to give
her a ride in his wheelbarrow. Jane laughed and said “Oh no, Sammy. I’m
much too big for your wheelbarrow. I’d be like Goldilocks and the baby
bear’s chair.”
Mrs. Peters came to the door and called “Hello” to Janie and asked her
to come in. The cottage was one of the most attractive on Oak Lake, and
as Janie looked around her she thought of what fun it would be to spend
the evening here.
“Mrs. Peters,” she started, “Mom said that perhaps you might want me
to take care of Sammy one of these Saturday evenings while you and Mr.
Peters went to the movies.”
Mrs. Peters looked pleased. “Why Janie, that’s so kind of you, but
aren’t you quite young for such a responsibility?”
“I’m thirteen,” said Janie proudly. “My mother gives me lots of
responsibilities. I take care of my brothers almost as well as she
does.”
Mrs. Peters smiled. “Yes, I’m sure you do, dear, and you’ll get along
splendidly with Sammy, too. He likes you already. Come down Saturday
evening about seven, and Mr. Peters and I will take you home again
about eleven o’clock. We’ll give you a dollar.”
A DOLLAR! Whew! That was more money than she ever made in one day
before. “Oh thank you, Mrs. Peters. I’ll be here at seven o’clock on
Saturday. Good-by. Good-by Sammy!”
Janie’s legs flew back down the road. Billy and James were sitting on
top of the stone posts waiting for the mailman. When Janie told them
her news they looked pleased and impressed. “Golly, Jane. A dollar is
real money. What are you going to do with it?”
“It will be the first dollar I ever earned and I’m going to do
something special with it. I don’t know what it will be yet, though.”
“Oh, boy!” said James. “Guess I’ll get a job too.”
Mrs. Murray smiled as her daughter’s eager face appeared in the
doorway. “So you’re going to take care of Sammy. Congratulations.”
“H’m,” said Grandma still clicking away at her knitting. “I’ll save my
congratulations for a while, and in the meantime I’ll wish you good
luck.”
Saturday evening came at last, and Janie started off down the road.
Mom called after her: “Honey, why don’t you take one of the boys with
you?”
Jane looked hurt. “Why, Mom! I don’t need any help.”
“All right then. I thought you might be lonely.”
The Peters were ready to leave and Mrs. Peters had prepared a list of
instructions and left them on the telephone stand. “Don’t worry, Mrs.
Peters,” said Jane confidently. “Everything is going to be just fine.”
Everything _was_ just fine until the car started away, and then young
Sammy threw back his head and began to cry. He ran to the garden gate
and called after the disappearing car, “Mommy! Daddy! Come back! I
want to go with you!” Jane put her arms around him and gave him her
brightest smile.
“They’ll come back, Sam. Now, let’s play ball.” Sam’s face cleared
just a little and the two of them tossed the ball around on the lawn.
Janie wanted to quit after the first few minutes, but not Sammy. He was
having a fine time and when Janie sank down on the grass, panting for
breath, he urged her on. “No stop, Janie. More ball, more ball!”
“Enough ball” said the amateur nursemaid, drawing him down beside her.
“Now, I’ll tell you a story. I’ll tell you a story about Pinocchio.”
Sammy’s eyes sparkled. He clapped his hands and his short black curls
danced as he settled down on Janie’s lap. “Three Bears,” he coaxed.
“Three Bears, Little Red Riding Hood.” Janie’s mind leaped back nimbly
to her not so far distant childhood.