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THE CAT IN GRANDFATHER'S HOUSE
by
CARL GRABO
Illustrated by M. F. Iserman
[Illustration: In a strange house anything might happen.]
Chicago New York
Laidlaw Brothers
Copyright, 1929
by Laidlaw Brothers
Incorporated
All rights reserved
Printed in U.S.A.
_PUBLISHER'S NOTE_
_It is peculiarly fitting in this day of delightful juveniles that an
author of many books on the technique of writing should turn his pen to
the writing of this child's book._
_Carl Grabo, with whose name "The Art of the Short Story" is at once
associated, has written this whimsical and imaginative tale of Hortense
and the Cat. Antique furniture, literally stuffed with personality,
hurries about in the dim moonlight in order to help Hortense through a
thrillingly strange campaign against a sinister Cat and a villainous
Grater. The book offers rare humor, irresistible alike to grown-ups and
children._
_It is a book that will stimulate the imagination of the most prosaic
child--or at least give it exercise! Wonder, the most fertile awakener
of intelligence, and vision are closely akin to imagination, and both
are greatly needed in this work-a-day world._
_Each reader, a child at heart be he seven or seventy, will bubble
with the glee of childhood at all its quaint imaginings. They are so
real that they seem to be true._
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I. "... going to the big house to live" 9
II. "And the darker the room grew, the more it
seemed alive" 20
III. "They could hear the soft pat-pat of padded
feet in the hall" 31
IV. "Highboy, and Lowboy, and Owl, and the Firedogs
come out at night" 48
V. "Jeremiah's disappeared again" 60
VI. "I'll have the charm
That saves from harm" 74
VII. "... there should be Little People up the
mountain yonder" 93
VIII. "The sky was lemon colored, and the trees
were dark red" 109
IX. "Tell us a story about a hoodoo, Uncle Jonah" 128
X. "Ride, ride, ride
For the world is fair and wide" 134
XI. "... take us to the rock on the mountain
side where the Little People dance" 145
XII. "There are queer doings in this house" 169
XIII. "This is what was inside" 186
CHAPTER I
"_... going to the big house to live._"
Hortense's father put the letter back into its envelope and handed it
across the table to her mother.
"I hadn't expected anything of the kind," he said, "but it makes the
plan possible provided----"
Hortense knew very well what Papa and Mamma were talking about, for she
was ten years old and as smart as most girls and boys of that age. But
she went on eating her breakfast and pretending not to hear. Papa and
Mamma were going a long way off to Australia, provided Grandmother and
Grandfather would care for Hortense in their absence. So Mamma had
written, and this was the answer.
"Would you like to stay with Grandfather and Grandmother while Papa and
Mamma are away?" her mother asked.
Hortense would like it very much, for she had never been in her
grandfather's house. Grandfather and Grandmother had always visited her
at Christmas and other times, and she had imagined wonderful stories of
the house that she had never seen. All her father would tell of it when
she asked him was that it was large and old-fashioned. Once only she
had heard him say to her mother, "It would be a strange house for a
child."
Strange houses were her delight. In a strange house anything might
happen. Always in fairy tales and wonder stories, the houses were
deliriously strange.
So when her mother asked her the question, Hortense answered promptly,
"Yes, ma'm."
"I'm afraid you'll have no one to play with," Mamma said, "but there
will be nice books to read and a large yard to enjoy. Besides, the
house itself is very unusual. If you were an imaginative child it might
be a little--but then you aren't imaginative."
"Yes, ma'm," said Hortense.
She supposed Mamma was right. If she were really imaginative, no doubt
she would have seen a fairy long ago. But though she looked in every
likely spot, never had she seen any except once, and that time she
wasn't sure.
"My little girl is sensible and not likely to be easily frightened at
any unusual or strange--," her father began.
"I shouldn't, Henry," Mamma interrupted swiftly.
"No, perhaps not," Papa agreed.
No more was said, but Hortense knew very well that going to
Grandfather's house would be a grand and delightful adventure and that
almost anything might happen, provided she were imaginative enough. She
reread all her fairy tales by way of preparation, and her dreams grew
so exciting that at times she was sorry to wake up in the morning.
Meanwhile, Papa and Mamma were busy packing and putting things away in
closets. Finally the day came when Hortense kissed her mamma good-by
and cried a little, and Papa took her to the station and, after talking
to the conductor, put her on the train.
The conductor said he would take good care that Hortense got off at the
right station; then Papa found a seat for her by a window, put her
trunk check in her purse and her box of lunch and her handbag beside
her, kissed her good-by, and told her to be a brave girl.
He stood outside her window until the train started; then he waved his
hand, and Hortense saw him no more. However, she felt sad only for a
minute or two, for he was going to Australia and was going to bring her
something very interesting, possibly a kangaroo. She had asked for a
kangaroo, and Papa had shaken his head doubtfully and said he'd see.
But Papa always did that to make the surprise greater.
It was an interesting trip, and Hortense wasn't tired a bit. The
conductor came in several times and asked her many questions about her
grandfather and her grandmother. He also told her about his own little
girl who was just Hortense's age and a wonder at fractions.
When it was time for lunch, the porter brought her a little table upon
which she spread the contents of her box, and she had a pleasant
luncheon party with an imaginary little boy named Henry. It was all the
nicer because she had to eat all Henry's sandwiches and cookies,
whereas, if Henry had been a real little boy, he would have eaten them
all himself and probably some of hers, too.
After luncheon, the train went more slowly as it climbed into the
mountains, and all the rest of the way Hortense looked out of the
window. She had never seen big mountains before. Then, about four
o'clock in the afternoon, the conductor came and told her to get ready.
When the train stopped, he helped her off, called, "All aboard" (though
there was nobody to get on), and the train drew away and disappeared.
Hortense was all alone, and there was nobody resembling her grandfather,
or her grandfather's old coachman, to meet her. She felt very lonesome
until a man with a bright metal plate on his cap, which read _Station
Agent_, came to her and asked her name and where she belonged.
"So you're Mr. Douglas' granddaughter," said he, "and are going to the
big house to live. Well, well! I guess Uncle Jonah will be along pretty
soon."
Hortense went with him and looked up the long street of the little
town. The station agent shaded his eyes with his hand.
"I guess that's Uncle Jonah now," said he, and Hortense saw an
old-fashioned surrey with a fringed top drawn by two very fat black
horses. They were very lazy horses, and it seemed a long time before
they drew up at the station and Uncle Jonah climbed painfully out.
Uncle Jonah was very old and black, and his hair was white and kinky.
"Yo's Miss Hortense, isn't yo'?" he asked. "I come fo' to git yo'. I'se
kinda' late 'cause Tom an' Jerry, dey jes' sa'ntered along."
The station agent and Uncle Jonah lifted Hortense's steamer trunk into
the back seat of the surrey, and with Hortense sitting beside Uncle
Jonah, off they went.
"She'd better look out for ghosts up at the big house, hadn't she,
Uncle Jonah?" the station agent called after them.
Uncle Jonah grunted.
"Are there ghosts at Grandfather's house?" Hortense asked, feeling a
delightful shiver up her back.
"'Cose not," said Uncle Jonah uneasily. "Dat's jes' his foolishness."
"I'd like to see a ghost," said Hortense.
Uncle Jonah stared at her.
"Me, I don' mix up wid no ha'nts," said he. "When I hears 'em rampagin'
'roun' at night, I pulls de kivers up an' shuts mah eyes tight."
"What do they sound like, Uncle Jonah?" Hortense asked breathlessly.
But Uncle Jonah would not answer. Instead he clucked to the horses, and
not another word could Hortense get from him for a long time. They
drove through the little town and out into the country toward the
mountains.
"Is the house right among the mountains?" Hortense asked at last.
"It sho' is," said Uncle Jonah, "De's a mount'in slap in de back yard."
"Goody," said Hortense. "I like mountains."
"Dey's powahful oncomfo'table," grumbled Uncle Jonah.
He stopped the horses on the top of a little hill and pointed with his
whip.
"De's de house," he said, "dat big one wid de cupalo."
Hortense looked as directed. Below them, at the foot of a steep
mountain, was a tall house with a cupola. It was three stories high,
old-fashioned, and had high shuttered windows. The cupola attracted
Hortense particularly. She thought she would like to sit high inside
and look through the little windows. One could see ever so far and
could pretend one were in a lighthouse or on the mast on a ship.
Tom and Jerry walked slowly down the long hill. At its foot was a
little house surrounded by a low hedge. A boy of about Hortense's age
was playing in the yard. He stopped and stared at Hortense as she
passed, and Hortense stared back. Then the boy did a handspring and
waved his hand.
"What's that boy's name?" Hortense asked.
Uncle Jonah raised his eyes.
"Good fo' nothin'," muttered Uncle Jonah. "Ef I catches him in my
o'cha'd ag'in, I'll lambaste him good."
"He looks like a nice boy," said Hortense.
"Dey ain't no nice boys," said Uncle Jonah. "Dey all needs a lickin'."
Tom and Jerry turned in at a graveled driveway and trotted through a
large lawn set with big trees and clumps of shrubbery. They stopped
before the big house, and Uncle Jonah and Hortense got down. The wide
door opened, and there stood Grandmother in her white lace cap and
black silk dress, as always.
Hortense ran up the steps and kissed her. Grandmother was little, with
white hair and bright eyes. They entered the old-fashioned hallway
together, and Hortense knew at once that the house would be all that
she had hoped.
The hall was dark, and old-fashioned furniture sat along the walls. A
spidery staircase with dark wood bannisters rose steeply from one side
and wound away out of sight. At the far end of the hall was a great
friendly grandfather's clock with a broad round face.
"Tick-tock, tick-tock," said the clock in a deep mellow voice. Hortense
thought he said, "Welcome, welcome," and was sure he winked at her.
"I must make him talk to me," thought Hortense. "He seems a very wise
old clock. How many interesting things he must know."
A middle-aged woman with a kind face came to meet them.
"Mary, this is my little granddaughter," said Grandmother; and to
Hortense, "Mary will take care of you and show you your room. When you
have taken your things off, come downstairs and we will have tea."
Hortense followed Mary up the steep, winding stairs to the second
floor. Mary opened one of the many doors of the long hallway, and
Hortense followed her into a large old-fashioned room with a great
four-poster bed. It was a corner room. Through the windows on one side
Hortense could look out over the orchard slope that ran down to the
brook. Beyond the brook rose a shadowy mountain whose side was so steep
that trees could hardly find a foothold among the rocks. On the other
side of the room, the windows opened upon the lawn bordered by a hedge.
Beyond the hedge was the little house in front of which Hortense had
seen the boy, but he was no longer playing in the yard.
A big man carried up Hortense's trunk and placed it in the corner. He
had bright blue eyes. Mary introduced him to Hortense.
"This is my husband, Fergus," said she. "We live in the little house
beyond the orchard. You must come to see us sometime and have tea. My
husband will tell you stories of the Little People."
"The Little People are fairies, aren't they, who live in Ireland?" said
Hortense, remembering her fairy tales.
"Not only in Ireland," said Fergus, "but everywhere in woods and
mountains. Do you see that dark place in the rocks halfway up the
mountain?"
Hortense looked as directed and thought she saw the place.
"That's the mouth of a cave that goes into the mountain, nobody knows
how far," said Fergus. "It is certain that the Little People must live
in there."
His eyes twinkled, but his face was quite serious.
"Really?" Hortense asked.
"I've not seen them," said Fergus, "but my eyes are older than yours. I
do not doubt that you will see them dancing on moonlight nights."
Meanwhile, Mary had been unpacking the trunk and laying Hortense's
things away in the drawers of a great bureau.
"Now we will go down and have tea," said Mary. "Let me brush your hair
a bit."
After this was done, they went downstairs again, passed the big clock
that winked and said, "Tick-tock, hello," and entered a sunny room
where Grandmother sat in her easy chair.
[Illustration]