COUSIN BEN TO THE RESCUE
The next morning when Edna opened her eyes she saw a white world. Trees,
fences, roofs, were covered with snow. It was banked up in great drifts
along the road. The path to the gate was so deeply snowed under that it
was an impossibility to think of getting from the house. At the back it
was no better. The two little girls looked rather sober.
"I wonder if mother can get home to-day," was the first thought in
Nettie's mind, and, "I wonder if I can get home to my mother," was that
in Edna's.
It seemed rather forlorn to think of facing the day without some older
person, but Nettie bravely went to work to do her best. First she went
down into the cellar for coal which she lugged up to put on the two
fires. Edna came down to find her busily taking up the ashes.
"Oh, how do you know what to do to make the fires burn?" she asked.
"Oh, I know, for mother has told me, and I often do this for her. The
kitchen fire is easy enough but it is hard to lift the coal bucket up
high enough to get the coal into the other stove."
"I can help," said Edna. So together they managed.
"Now, I must see what there is for breakfast," said Nettie. "I think
there are two eggs, and the hens must have laid more, but I can't get
out to hunt them till a path is made. I think there is still a little
milk, for it didn't take much for the cambric tea, and we can have more
of that. Then there is bread enough and butter. We can boil the eggs."
This they did, Edna watching the clock very carefully to see that they
were not over done. They concluded to toast the bread, and made a pretty
fair breakfast, though it was not a very hearty one, Edna thought. There
was a little of the milk toast left which they warmed up to give to the
cat who must miss his morning's milk, as the milkman had not appeared.
"I don't suppose he will get here at all," said Nettie a little
anxiously. She was wondering what she could give her guest for dinner if
it should be so that her mother did not return. She set to work in a
very housewifely way to tidy up the house, Edna helping all she could.
Then they stationed themselves by the window to see if by any chance
there might be someone coming along whom they could hail. But the road
was not much frequented and there was not a footstep nor a track in the
deep snow. Only the smoke from neighboring chimneys gave any evidence
of life. Once they heard sleigh-bells in the distance and concluded that
the main road was being used.
"I wish I could get out to feed the chickens," said Nettie after a
while. "I am afraid they will be hungry." She went to the back door to
view the prospect, and tried to shovel away some of the snow, but it was
slow work. Edna brought another shovel and together they managed to
clear a few feet of the path, but it was very wearying and they soon had
to give it up.
Then they went back to the window, but the monotony was not relieved by
any change in the face of things and so they determined that it was
rather stupid to stand there. Nettie brought down her two dolls and they
played with these for a while, but keeping house in a make believe way
was not so exciting when there was the reality close at hand, and they
decided that paper dolls would be more entertaining.
"I think there is a fashion book upstairs in the garret," said Nettie,
"and we can take that. Mother said I might have it."
Edna followed her up into the attic and they found the book, took it
down into the front room and began to make their selections and cut out
paper dolls till it suddenly dawned upon Nettie that it was time for
another meal. She laid down her scissors with a sigh. "I really don't
know what we shall have for dinner," she said. "Mother was going to
bring something back with her. I shall have to rummage."
She went into the little pantry, Edna following. "There are two
potatoes, but they aren't very big," she said, "and there is some
codfish. I might make some codfish balls if I knew how. Do you know,
Edna?"
"I think they are made of fish and potatoes, aren't they?"
"Yes, but I don't know how much fish and how much potato, besides I am
afraid there aren't potatoes enough. I suppose we shall have to give
that up. Oh, here are some more eggs; that is fine. If I could find some
ham or some bacon we could have ham and eggs, and that would be very
good." But nothing of this kind could be discovered and Nettie brought
out the potatoes, laid them on the table and said rather ruefully, "It
seems to me that we aren't going to have much dinner. There isn't
another thing except sugar and tea and such things."
"There might be rice," said Edna with a sudden thought of Aunt
Elizabeth's desserts.
"Why, of course, and rice and brown sugar are very good indeed. I am so
glad you thought of it. I know there must be rice." She went back to the
pantry and presently came out with a box in which she had discovered the
rice. "I'll get the eggs and we can have them fried," she remarked,
"they will seem more like meat that way."
"And we can have the potatoes baked because they will be easier to do,"
said Edna.
Nettie made another visit to the pantry. "I've found something else,"
she called.
"What?" asked Edna going to the door.
"Two apples. Now, I am sure that is every blessed thing."
"Well," said Edna cheerfully, "I think we are very lucky to find so
much."
"I must put the potatoes in the oven right away," declared Nettie, "for
it takes them a good while to bake. I will put on some water for the
rice, too. I wonder how much rice I should take. Have you any idea?"
"No, I haven't, but I should think we will want quite a good deal, we
haven't very much else, have we?"
"No, we have not. I will take a large cupful. It swells up so, I should
think that might do. You soak it first, I think." She measured out a
full cup of the rice, poured some water over it, washed it and then set
it to soak till the water should boil. The potatoes were put in the oven
and then the two went back to the next room. "It won't take the rice as
long as it does the potatoes, I am sure," said Nettie, "and the water
will have to boil first."
They returned to the paper-dolls, becoming quite interested in them till
presently they heard a great sputtering, and running out found the water
was boiling over. "I'll put on the rice now," said Nettie, "for I am
getting hungry, aren't you?"
"Well, yes, a little," acknowledged Edna.
Nettie was rather uncertain as to what she should cook the rice in, and
next, how much water she should pour over it, but after some discussion
it was decided, and they went back to set the table. "Doesn't it seem
funny to be keeping house just like grown-ups?" said Edna. "I never knew
how much trouble it was before, did you, Nettie?"
"I knew, but I didn't think about it, I suppose," returned Nettie. "We
will pile up our dolls and papers over here on this other table and then
they will be easy to get at when we want them. I wish the milkman had
come, for I really don't know what to give to Tippy. We haven't any
meat. To be sure he will eat most anything, but I am afraid he will go
hungry to-day."
"Couldn't you give him an egg and some bread or some rice, if we have
enough."
"I could do that, I suppose. I hope there will be rice enough, but it is
very hard to tell when you aren't acquainted with such a thing as the
boiling and swelling of it."
"Oh, I smell something burning," cried Edna, "and something is making a
funny popping noise." They flew to the kitchen to see that the rice had
burst all bounds and was dancing out of the saucepan all over the hot
stove, puffing and popping at a great rate.
"Oh, dear," exclaimed Nettie. "I never saw so much rice come from one
cupful. Could you believe it? Why, it has taken up all the water and the
saucepan is full up to the top besides all that is on the stove. Oh,
dear, I wish I knew just how to cook it."
"Haven't you a cook book?" asked Edna with a quick suggestion of what
might help out the question.
"Why, of course mother has one. I will set this off and go hunt it up."
The book was found on the shelves and the two put their heads together
to discover the best way to boil rice. "I think this seems the easiest
way," said Nettie, pointing to one of the pages of the book, "but I hope
it won't hurt it to wait, for I'll have to put on more water to boil. It
says to have a great deal of water and keep it boiling like mad."
After some time the rice was transferred to another and larger saucepan
and was soon boiling "like mad," then the eggs were fried and after a
somewhat anxious and laborious period of time the dinner was pronounced
ready.
"Oh, dear me, but it is hard work," said Edna sighing as the two sat
down to partake of the meal which they had prepared after so much
difficulty.
"Yes, it is hard work," agreed Nettie, "but we did it all ourselves, and
the potatoes are really done and the rice looks all right."
"It looks fine," said Edna, "and so do the eggs. I don't mind their
being broken a little; I don't see how you could dish them up without."
They had been so long in preparing the meal that they were quite starved
and ate with a relish. "I'm glad there is more rice," said Nettie, "for
now that I know what a little it takes to make a big dish I shan't be
afraid of our starving while it lasts."
"Oh, dear," Edna put down her spoon, "you don't think we shall have to
stay here alone for days, do you? The snow will have to melt after a
while and the roads be cleared."
"It doesn't look much like it yet," returned Nettie.
"Oh, but it never, never, never could keep on like this." Edna was
determined to be hopeful. "I'm going to believe someone will come this
very afternoon, either your mother or somebody."
Her faith was not without foundation for along in the middle of the
afternoon they heard jangling bells, and ran to the front window to see
the milkman in a huge sleigh, his milk cans in the body of it. He plowed
his way to the front door which was opened to him before he could knock.
"Oh, Mr. Snyder," said Nettie, "I am so glad you have come. We are all
alone and we haven't a drop of milk."
"That so?" said Mr. Snyder. "I thought as much. It's pretty hard
travelling and I've been hours getting around to my customers, but now
the road is broken it won't be quite so hard getting back. I'd better
leave you double quantity in case I'm late to-morrow."
"Oh, you are our milkman, too, aren't you?" said Edna. "You leave milk
at Mrs. Conway's, don't you?"
"To be sure I do."
"And have you been there yet?"
"No, I'm on my way now. You're out a bit, you know, but what are you
doing down here?"
Edna told him her tale in which he was much interested. "Well, I
declare," he said. "Want me to take you home with me? I can bundle you
in there with the milk cans, and I reckon you wouldn't freeze."
For a moment Edna thought she must accept this invitation, then she
looked at Nettie. Suppose her mother should not come that evening, and
she should be there at night all alone. "Couldn't you take Nettie, too?"
she said.
"Why, certainly. The two of you aren't much more than two milk cans, and
I'm sure you're not so big round."
"Oh, but suppose mother should come," said Nettie. "She would be so
worried, and I must be here to keep up the fires."
"Then," said Edna firmly, setting her face against the temptation of the
cheerful supper table at home, the dear mother arms, the greetings of
the boys and all the rest of it. "I will tell you what I can do. I will
write mother a little note and ask her if she can send somebody or find
some way to get us something to eat, and I'll stay till your mother
comes, Nettie."
"Oh, I think you are lovely to do that," answered Nettie.
"Could you wait a minute, Mr. Snyder?" asked Edna. "I won't write
much."
"I'll wait," he said, "and if you will give me a shovel I'll make a path
to your gate. I reckon you're right about staying, sissy. I've got two
little girls of my own and I know I shouldn't like them to be left alone
either one of them."
Edna hurried through her note which said: "Dear mother, I am with Nettie
Black. She lives in the first little house on the side road on the way
to the old mill. We are all alone for her mother hasn't come back.
Please send us something to eat if you can, for we have nothing left but
rice and milk. There may be eggs in the hen-house, but we can't get at
them. I want to come but I'd better not. Your loving Edna."
The little note was safely stowed away in Mr. Snyder's pocket with a
promise of sure delivery, and he went off, his horses plunging through
the deep drifts up to their middles.
"I think you are just as good as you can be," said Nettie. "I don't feel
as if I ought to let you stay, but I do hate the idea of being left all
alone."
"I'd want you to stay with me if I were in your place," returned Edna
remembering the G. R. Club. To be sure Nettie did not belong to her
school, but she was quite as much one of those "others" to whom one
should do as he would be done by.
"It really looks as if something had happened," remarked Edna. "When we
see the path to the gate. I wish he had had time to make one at the
back, too."
It was almost dark and they were about to turn from the window to light
the lamp, when ploughing through the deep snow they saw someone coming
down the road. They watched him eagerly. Except the milkman he was the
first person they had seen that day. "He is coming this way," said Edna
hopefully. "Oh, Nettie, I believe it is Cousin Ben. He has a basket and
see how he has taken to the road where Mr. Snyder's sleigh went along."
She watched for a few minutes longer. "It is Cousin Ben," she cried
joyfully. "He is coming here. Light the lamp, Nettie, while I go let him
in."
She hurried to the door to see Ben stamping off the snow from his feet.
"Whewee!" he exclaimed, "but isn't this a sockdolager? I never saw such
a storm? How are you Ande, my honey. Of all things to think of your
being this near home and none of us knowing it."
"Then mother did think I was still at Uncle Justus's," said Edna.
"Just what she did. You rung a surprise on the whole of us, I can tell
you."
He came in and set down the basket, took off his cap and overcoat and
looked down at the two little girls with a smile.
"This is Nettie Black," Edna told him. "She has been so nice to me, and
I don't know what would have happened if I had not been able to get to
her house."
"Don't speak of it," returned Ben with a little frown and a shake of his
head. "I'll sit down and warm myself and then you can tell me how this
all happened."
He drew up to the fire, took Edna on his knee and she poured forth her
tale. "Pretty tough," he said when she had completed her story. "I'm
glad your mother didn't know you had started. Now, Miss Nettie if you
will let me sleep on that big sofa I am going to stay right here till we
can dig you out and your mother comes. There's a lot of provender in
that basket and we'll be as jolly as they make 'em."
"Oh, but you can sleep upstairs," returned Nettie. "There is plenty of
room."
"Good! Then upstairs be it. What was that about hens and eggs and
things, Ande?"
"Oh, we can't get out to the hen-house, you know. We tried to make a
path but it was too hard work for us so we gave it up."
"I should remark. Well, that will be done first thing in the morning,
and I'll go see what I can find. Eggsactly, as it were. What about the
fires? Any coal up here?"
"A little," Nettie told him. "We have carried up all we could at a time,
but we couldn't bring enough for the fires to-night. We are going down
to get more."
"You are going to do no such thing. Got a candle? Where are the coal
scuttles? One of you hold the light and show me your coal bin and up
comes your coal." Cousin Ben was already making for the cellar door.
Of course no one was going to be left out of this expedition and all
three descended to the cellar, from which they presently came forth all
laughing. It was certainly a cheering thing to have someone so willing
to come to their aid. Next the basket was unpacked and it goes without
saying that there were neither eggs nor rice for supper that night.
Moreover, Tippy had such a feast of milk as well as other things as he
had not seen for several days. Ben kept the little girls in such a state
of giggle that they could scarcely do the dishes, but what with the
labors of the day and the later excitement they were ready for bed
early, and went up leaving Cousin Ben with a book before him. Later his
light half wakened Edna, but as he closed the door between the rooms
and she realized that he was there, she turned over with a sigh of
content, feeling very safe and sleepy.