THE I.I.'S.
"Come, Fuzzy, come!" said Bess, opening the front door an inch, and
speaking in a tone of gentle persuasion.
But Fuzz only gazed fixedly at some distant point of the landscape,
and refused to move.
"Come, good little Fuzz; come right in!" And Bess tried to express
the idea that some pleasing secret lay hidden behind the door that
she held open a crack. Slowly the dog turned the white of one eye
towards his mistress; but otherwise he was deaf to her voice.
Becoming impatient, she went out on the step.
"Come right here, Fuzz!" she said, very decidedly.
The little animal looked at her for a moment, wagged his brief tail
as if to say, "Excuse me," and then darted to the gate, where he
stood barking furiously, occasionally turning his head to see if his
mistress were still waiting for him. She stepped back into the house
and shut the door, with an elaborate care that he should notice the
fact. Then she applied her eye to one of the glass panes. The dog
trotted to the steps, looked about him, and, seeing that the coast
was clear, leisurely came up them and lay down on the mat.
"Now I have him!" thought Bess exultingly, and, suddenly opening the
door, she made a quick snatch at the spot where the dog had
been,--had been, for at the first click of the latch he was several
yards away, barking defiance at some imaginary foe.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Bess, adjusting the folds of her pretty spring
suit. "How could Bridget be so careless as to let that dog out when
I told her not to?" And again she peered out through the glass, only
to see the dog peacefully lying on the lower step, with his little
black nose laid up on the one above it.
"Can't you get him to come to you with a piece of bread?" queried
Fred's voice from the next room. "I'll go ask Bridget for a piece."
He returned in a moment and offered Bess a thick slice of bread, and
then passed his hand approvingly down over her gown.
"How fine you are!" he said. "It is a shame for Fuzz to act so."
"He always does when I want to go away, so I usually shut him into
the house. To-day he saw me putting on my hat and suspected a
departure, and in some way ran out past Bridget. I am sorry, for I
ought to call on Mrs. Walsh."
As she opened the door and stepped out into the May sunshine, Fred
stood leaning in the doorway, waiting to know if his plan were
successful. Fuzz sat on the grass ten feet away, watching their
manœuvres with a look of calm, unbiassed criticism.
"Come, Fuzz, come get some bread," said Bess caressingly, as she
broke off a bit and tossed it to the dog. He moved lazily towards
it, ate it as if he were conferring a favor upon her, then came a
step or two nearer to get the next one, and the next, artfully aimed
by Bess, in order to bring him by degrees to her feet. But Fuzz was
wary, and had no mind to forego either the present feast or the
prospective walk. By watching his chance, he would contrive to run
up to Bessie's very toes, snatch the morsel, and then dodge away
again, before she could touch so much as one of his curls. In this
way, he possessed himself of the entire slice of bread, and then
returned to his former seat, leaving Bess none the better for her
efforts.
"Won't he come?" asked Fred sympathetically, though with a strong
desire to laugh.
"He hasn't the remotest idea of such a thing," replied Bess
disconsolately, as she looked at her watch.
Mrs. Carter joined them on the steps.
"Fuzz, come here! Come to grandma!" she called authoritatively.
But Fuzz withdrew to the middle of the street, and contemplated a
distant carriage.
"I'll tell you, Bess, what you can do. We will all go in, and then,
in a few minutes, you can go out the back way, and through to the
other street."
"A brilliant idea, mother. Come, Fred." And she led the way into
the house, and shut the door with an emphasis to attract the dog's
attention.
They waited until he returned to the step, and then, with a stealthy
tread, Bess retired through the kitchen and was out of the house
grounds when a small gray body rushed madly past her, and then
returned to caper about her, leaving an occasional dusty foot-mark on
her new gown.
"Bad Fuzz!" she scolded. "Fuzz must go right back!" But Fuzz would
neither go of himself, nor let her pick him up to carry him. So she
walked back to the house, saying to herself,--
"Well, I don't mind my call, but I do hate to be late at Rob's, when
I've constantly tried to impress on those boys that they must be
prompt at engagements. However, 'the best laid plans of mice and
men' must be changed to suit the will of a small imp of a puppy."
As she entered the house, Fuzz, with a skill that would do credit to
a civil engineer, at the very least, took up his position at such a
vantage point that he commanded an unobstructed view of both modes of
exit, and sat watching them with an unblinking steadiness. Bess
waited for a long quarter of an hour, hoping that the dog would give
up the idea and signify his desire to come in. But no imperative
bark was heard. On the contrary, Fuzz appeared to be abundantly
satisfied with his position. Then Fred went out and sat down on the
steps, inviting the dog to join him. But he proved less attractive
than usual, and neither his coaxing nor Mrs. Carter's commands could
move the delinquent from his post of observation. Then Bridget, now
truly penitent for the carelessness that was causing "Miss Bess" so
much delay, promenaded up and down before him, trailing behind her a
perfectly bare beef-bone, tied to a string. Fuzz eyed her with
seeming indifference, while she made three or four turns, then he
darted forward, seized the bone, pulled till he broke the string, and
then triumphantly walked off to a safe distance, where he lay down
and fell to gnawing his bone. Annoyed and impatient as she was, Bess
laughed outright, as she saw the quick act; and Bridget, in her turn,
gave up.
Another period of waiting, and then Fred had a fresh proposal.
"See here, Miss Bess, if Fuzz wants a walk, I will give him one.
I'll put on my hat and walk out beyond the tennis court, and he will
come too. Then you can go."
"Could you, Fred? I am so anxious to go, only I hate to send you off
alone," said Bess doubtfully, for as yet Fred's out-of-door
excursions had mainly been made with her or Rob as escort.
"Yes, I'll be all right," said the boy, and then added wistfully,
"How long shall you be gone?"
"No longer than I can help, my dear. Now be very careful of
yourself." And she gave him his hat and the light, strong cane he
depended on when alone.
She watched him as he moved slowly off across the broad lawn, with
Fuzz frisking along by his side, and occasionally jumping against him
with such unexpected force that it made him totter.
"Bless the child!" she thought. "He grows unselfish and considerate
every day; and how well and happy he seems. I hope he will enjoy
this new plan."
And she started on her errand, with one backward glance at the lad,
as he sat down for a moment on one of the seats scattered about the
lawn, and turned his face to the soft, clear air. Above his head the
trees were in the beauty of their first tiny leaves, so light and
delicate in their unfolding that they looked like a cloud of
butterflies lighted on every little twig and stem. And the birds
chirped and twittered in all the gladness of the sunshine, rejoicing
in the new life about them. The influence of the spring was over
them all, and vaguely, in his boy fashion, Fred felt it too. For a
moment he went back to a year or two ago, and longed for the old
free, happy days; but as he remembered the lonely, dull hours he had
spent between the times of his return from Boston and his coming to
live at the Carters', his mood brightened again, and he patted the
now docile Fuzz, saying cheerfully,--
"It isn't so bad after all, is it, Fuzz?"
And the dog presented his little paw, as if to shake hands, in token
of their perfect agreement.
In the meantime Bess had betaken herself to her cousin's, where she
was greeted by five eager, curious lads, who, perched on the front
fence, were awaiting her coming with loud denunciations of her
tardiness.
"I couldn't help it, boys. Fuzz wouldn't let me come any earlier."
And, to the merriment of the lads, Bess recounted her experiences of
the afternoon, and then asked: "Is aunt Bess at home, Rob?"
"No; but she said tell you to go right in and make yourself at home.
Do hurry up, for we're awfully curious and can't stand it another
minute." And Rob led the way to their pleasant sitting-room.
"Doesn't Rob know what's up?" asked Phil, as Bess seated herself
deliberately, and the boys gathered around her.
"Not a blessed thing," said Bess, disregarding her cousin's winks
begging her to keep silence; "only that I told him to have you meet
me here this afternoon."
"Oh ho, young lad!" exclaimed Ted, giving his host a sounding thump
on the back, "you're a fraud. Here you've been pretending all day
you knew what was going on, and you are as much in the dark now as
any of us."
"What is it, Miss Bess?" inquired Phil, swinging himself impatiently
back and forth in his rocking-chair, as he sat astride of it, with an
ankle clasped in either hand. "It's sure to be fun, if you start it."
"Don't get your expectations too high, Phil," said Bess. "It is only
just this. If you boys have time enough to spare for it, how would
you like to spend one evening a week with me?"
"Club?" suggested Rob, who had often begged for something of this
kind.
"Yes, club; if you choose to call it so." And there was an
enthusiastic burst of applause from the boys, who took a true
masculine delight in anything rejoicing in the name of club. When
quiet was restored, Bess went on quite seriously:--
"Now, my boys, I don't want you to be selfish in starting this club.
It is for us all to enjoy together, and I want you to help me make it
a great success; but most of all it is for Fred. He tries so hard
not to be shy with you, but it is hard for him when he doesn't see
you but once in a long time. He needs boys and boy fun now, more
than anything else, and he is staying with me so much that there is
danger of his growing girlish and--and--what is it you call it?--a
mollycoddle."
"Not much danger of that when you are round," said Sam, with a smile
to point his intended compliment.
Bess took it as such, and beamed on him in return, before she
continued,--
"Well, as I say, he needs you all to stir him up and give him a taste
of the old fun. Now, it depends on you whether this fun will do him
good, or only make him feel farther away from you than ever. Can you
think what I mean?"
"Yes, I think I know, Miss Bessie," said Bert, who was leaning back
in the depths of his chair, his knees crossed and his hands loosely
clasped in front of him, while his eyes were intently fixed on
Bessie's face. "You mean, if we stir him up in ways he can enjoy, or
whether we tease him and do things he can't have the fun of with us."
"Who'd be mean enough to tease Fred Allen, anyhow?" asked Sam
belligerently.
"Nobody; so keep cool and let Miss Bess go on," said Teddy
patronizingly.
"Bert has my idea. How many of you will help to carry it out?" and
Bess looked around at the eager young faces, beaming with good-will
to their absent friend.
"I! I!" shouted the chorus of five; and then Rob asked,--
"What kind of a club are you going to have?"
"How do you like this plan? Suppose you come up every Saturday
evening early, say by seven, and stay two hours. At nine I shall
send you off home, and to bed, for I don't approve of late hours for
children."
"Children! Oh, cracky!" groaned Ted, in parenthesis.
"Yes, children," repeated Bess, with a malicious pleasure in the
word. "What else are you, I should like to know? But so much for
times and seasons. And now for the way we are to spend our time.
Beginning with myself, and working down by ages, I am going to let
you each select some good subject for an evening, and then we will
all bring in what information we can about it, and talk it over
together. You can give out your subjects the week before, so we can
prepare them, you know. I only make one condition, that you submit
your subjects to me, first of all. Then we shall end with some
games. How does the idea strike you?"
"First-rate" and "dandy," exclaimed Phil and Ted in unison; and Sam
added,--
"Have you told Fred?"
"Not yet, for I wanted first to talk it over with you, and see if I
could depend on you to make it a success. It rests with you to
decide, and if you go into it in the right way, each trying to help
on the general good time, we shall have some very pleasant evenings,
I am sure.
"But I don't see why we need study for it," sighed Phil.
"For two or three reasons, you lazy boy," answered Bess. "If we
spent our evenings just playing games, we should soon be heartily
tired of them and of each other. But a little work--I don't mean it
to be hard work--will give a variety, so we shall like them both
better. And then it is high time you boys were getting some new
ideas beyond your daily doses of arithmetic and geography. You can
take any subject you wish, from the moon to potato bugs, or Napoleon
Bonaparte, provided you take one about which we can really learn
something. We shall work an hour, and play an hour, and enjoy each
better for having the other." And Bess paused amid a hum of
admiration from her followers.
"What shall we call the club?" asked Rob.
"Genuine Grubbers," said Phil, in whose mind the thought of study was
still rankling.
"The Brotherhood of Frederick the Great," was Bert's pertinent
suggestion.
"Queen Bess and her Jolly Lads would be good," remarked Teddy.
"Q.B.J.L. for short, you know, and none of the other fellows would
know what it meant."
"It strikes me," Sam interposed, "we'd ought to let Fred have
something to say about it."
"I agree with you, Sam," rejoined Bess. "Come home with me now, all
of you, and we will plan for the name, first subject, and so on, and
then on Saturday night we can have our first meeting."
And so Saturday evening found the house brightly lighted, and Fred in
his best suit, with a white carnation in his buttonhole, while Bess
arranged Fuzz with his basket, ball, and rag doll in a comfortable
corner of the kitchen, to keep Bridget company, and persuaded the
Dominie to retire to the dining-room.
Punctually at the moment came the boys, each one with a proud
consciousness of being dressed up for the occasion, although Phil's
front lock of hair would stand rampant, and Ted's shoes bore traces
of his having splashed through some wayside puddle. After a few
moments of chatter, Bess stepped to the table and rapped on it with
mock solemnity.
"The members of the Club of Inquisitive Investigators will please
come to order. I will call the roll of officers and members.
President, Miss Elizabeth Carter. Well, I'm here. Vice-President,
Master Frederic Allen."
"Present," remarked Fred from the corner of the sofa, where he was
sitting with Rob and Bert.
"Treasurer, Master Edward Preston."
"Yes'm, I'm here," responded Ted with a giggle, "but I don't see what
there is to treasure."
"Secretary, Master Robert Atkinson," continued Bess, regardless of
the interruption.
"Here! What am I to do about it?" inquired Rob meekly.
"Chairman of Entertainment Committee, Master Philip Cameron."
"Trust me for coming," answered Phil, while Rob whispered,--
"That means you are chief clown."
"Beadle-in-chief and Disciplinarian, Master Samuel Boeminghausen."
"Yes, ma'am!" said Sam, and then fulfilled his official duties by
frowning on Ted, who, mindful of his "Pickwick," murmured,--
"'Samivel, my son, bevare of vidders.'
"Grand Referee, Critic, and Curator of Encyclopædia and Dictionary,
Master Herbert Walsh," concluded Bess, and Bert's response was lost
amid the shouts of the boys, to whom these offices were unexpected
honors.
"Now," said Bess, in more natural tones, as she seated herself, "we
have just members enough for the offices, and just offices enough for
the members, so I don't see how the I.I.'s can increase. To-night we
were to talk about coal, and I will ask Phil to begin by telling us
what he knows on the subject."
"Oh, dear!" groaned Phil, "that won't be much. Let's see. There are
different kinds of coal, the hard or anthracite, and the soft or
bit--bit--"
"Bituminous?" suggested Bert.
"Oh, yes! Bituminous. The bit-uminous has more oil in it, and is
smokier. So people that live in cities where it is burned get black
all over themselves when they go out on the street."
"Yes," interposed Sam. "When my father took me to Chicago with him,
there was one day that it was so thick in the air you couldn't see
any distance at all, and when I went back to the hotel to dinner, my
nose was all covered with black streaks."
"I know how that is," said Bess. "But go on, Phil."
"We burn the hard coal here. Then they divide it up by the size it
is broken into, and call it pea-coal and nut-coal, and so on. I
guess that's all I know, Miss Bess."
"Very good, Phil. Bert, can you tell us something more?"
"Not very much. Phil's told a good share of what I had found out. I
think I know where some of the best coal-beds are, though."
Sam and Ted between them added a description of coal mining; Fred
gave, as his share, a vivid account of the primeval forests, and the
way the coal-beds were formed; while Rob contributed a few words
about the fossils met with in the coal. Bess made a running
commentary on the whole, and ended with a short account of the more
common kindred substances: petroleum, illuminating gas, and the
diamond. Then she looked at her watch.
"Half-past eight. Only half an hour for our games, boys."
"Is it really so late?" asked Ted incredulously. "This has been
immense. What are we going to take next?"
"Well, Sam, that is for you to say." And Bess turned to the boy who
was lounging in his chair, with one foot stretched in front of him,
the other toe hooked around the leg of his chair.
"George Washington," he replied promptly, with a modest pride in the
wisdom and novelty of his choice.
"You all hear it?" asked President Bess. "Rob, as secretary, I want
you to keep a list of the subjects and their dates. Then, six months
from now, we will have an evening when each one of you may take some
one of these subjects and write all you have learned about it; and we
will have these essays read before a small and select audience. That
will be about the last of October. And one thing more I have to say
before our games. I want my boys to be careful about their
positions, to sit up straight like gentlemen, and not curl up like a
set of small caterpillars."
The sudden effect of this last remark was comical to behold. Feet
were firmly planted, backs straightened, shoulders squared, and coats
pulled into place; while Teddy vainly tried to conceal a yawning
chasm in the knee of his stocking, which had mysteriously appeared
since his arrival.
Promptly as the clock struck nine, Bess sent her guests away, but not
before Ted, from the front steps, led off in a rousing: "Rah! Rah!
Rah! for the Inquisitive Investigators." They then departed,
chanting at the top of their lungs, as an appropriate serenade:--
"The owl and the pussy-cat went to sea,
In a beautiful pea-green boat.
They took some honey and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five-pound note."