FUNNY UNCLE JIM
THROUGH the ensuing week the girls used Treasure House for study hours;
and too, they finished up much in the way of furnishing. They were not
both there every day, and sometimes neither was there, but the House was
a great comfort, and soon they felt greatly at home in it.
“It’s getting fitted to us, like a shoe,” declared Dotty after a few
days. “At first, I didn’t like the feel of this chair. Now, I love it.”
“Isn’t it funny how you get used to things,” said Dolly, musingly. “But
you can’t always. I’m trying to get used to Bernice Forbes, and yet
somehow, I can’t like her, and I don’t know why.”
“Of course you can’t, Dolly. She isn’t our sort.” And Dotty shook her
head as if she had settled the question for all time.
“Oh, pshaw! Our sort! What is our sort, I’d like to know. She’s just as
good as we are, just as rich, just as fashionable—”
“Oh, I don’t mean those things. She’s richer than any of our set, and
fashionabler, too. But that doesn’t make her our sort.”
“Well, what does? if you know so much.”
“She’s too stuck-up, for one thing. But that isn’t the main thing. She’s
a—oh, I don’t know how to express it. But she hasn’t any gumption, or
any,—oh, any sense. But she _thinks_ she has, and it’s _that_ that
makes her so disagreeable.”
“I don’t think you’re altogether right, but I’m going to find out. I
don’t see why nobody likes her.”
“But you ought to see that if nobody does like her, it’s because she
isn’t likable, for some reason or other.”
“I do see that, and I’m going to find out that some reason or other.”
“Pitch in, and find out, then. Good luck to you! Oh, here comes Grace.”
“Thought I’d find you here,” said Grace Rawlins, as Dotty opened the
door to her. “Hello, Dolly, busy studying?”
“Just about to begin to think about getting at it,” returned Dolly,
laughing. “But it can wait; sit down, Gracie.”
“Can’t stay a minute. I just flew in to ask you two to go nutting
to-morrow, up at Uncle Jim’s woods.”
“Gorgeous! I’d love to go,” cried Dotty and Dolly echoed, “So would I!”
“Well, it’s just only us and Ethel and Maisie. I can’t ask any more,
’cause Uncle is going to send for us in his car, and he’ll send us home
again. Won’t it be fun?”
“Fine! I can do all my lessons to-night, can’t you, Doll?”
“I will, whether I can or not. What time do we start, Grace?”
“One o’clock, sharp. Be ready, won’t you? And don’t wear too good
clothes, it’s a real country place.”
“All right, we’ll wear our oldest.”
Grace went away, declaring she wouldn’t longer interfere with their
study, and the Two D’s set to work in earnest.
“Then we can’t have lunch over here to-morrow,” Dotty said, a bit
regretfully.
“No matter, there are lots of other Saturdays. I’d rather go nutting
while we can.”
“So would I. Now keep still, I’ve got to attack these Geometry
problems.”
“Thank goodness, I’ve done mine. But History still stares me in the
face.”
Silence settled down upon them, broken occasionally by a murmur of this
sort: “Ptolemy I was followed by a series of monarchs—by a series of
monarchs—what are you going to wear, Dotsie?”
“That old brown gingham—the cube root of xy—364/2—”
Dolly burst into laughter. “X square plus seven X plus fifty-three
equals eleven thirds!” she quoted.
Dotty laughed back and quoted their favourite “Hunting of the Snark.”
“Taking three as the number to reason about—
A convenient number to state—
We add Seven and Ten and then multiply out
By One Thousand diminished by Eight.
The result we proceed to divide, as you see,
By Nine Hundred and Ninety and Two:
Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be—”
“Must be what, Dolly?”
“Exactly and perfectly true,” said Dolly, who was only half listening,
but who knew her Lewis Carroll by heart. Her eyes were turned up to the
ceiling and she was gabbling over and over—“by a series of monarchs
also called Ptolemies down to the time of Queen Cleopatra, the last of
the line. By a series of Ptolemies—a series of Ptolemies also called
monarchs,—h’m—also called Cleopatra—no, also called—also called—oh,
what _were_ the old things called?”
“You’re nutty!” said Dotty. “No, my child, that isn’t slang, I mean
you’re thinking of the nutting party and you can’t get the series of
mummies straight in your head.”
“They weren’t mummies—”
“They were after they stopped being monarchs, weren’t they? All
Egyptians were,—I mean, all fashionable Egyptians. Do keep still, dear,
sweet Dollyrinda, _do_ keep still. The cube root of xy,—_Oh!_—I do
abhor, detest, despise, abominate these cubed XY’s!”
But having thus exploded her wrath, Dotty set to work in earnest and
finally conquered the refractory factors.
“Done!” she announced, at the end of a half hour of hard work. “I’ve
cubed everything in sight, and some roots that were hidden deeply and
darkly in the earth.”
“You ought to be a Cubist, that we read so much about in the papers.”
“No, thank you. I’ll cube what I have to, but I’ll never go out cubing,
for pleasure. How are your Ptolemies?”
“Awfully mixed up. I’m going to let them simmer over night, and get up
early and attack them with the dew on them. Perhaps I can lash ’em to
the mast then.”
The next day turned out to be an ideal piece of weather. Clear, cold,
the wind tossing white drifts of cloud about in the upper blue, and
descending to whisk the nuts off the trees for those who desired them.
The wind was aided and abetted by Uncle Jim’s men, and when the crowd of
girls arrived, there was a widespread area of nut-besprinkled ground
awaiting them.
“Well, this is some sort of a nutting party,” said Dolly, as, each with
a basket, they started to the fray. “All I’ve been on lately, meant
hunting around half an hour for three small nuts,—one wormy.”
“Oh, Dolly, what a sad experience,” Grace returned. “I’m so glad I
brought you up here to Brazil, where the nuts come from.”
“It’s sure some little old Brazil, all right,” agreed Dotty, and then
they all stooped to their task.
Baskets were quickly filled, and the girls sat down to rest under a
tree.
“This must be the old original spreading Chestnut Tree,” said Maisie. “I
always wondered if it did really spread such a lot. I see it does.”
“Here comes the spread!” said Grace, as a maid appeared bearing a tray
filled with glasses and plates. The contents were sweet cider and ginger
cakes, and to the hungry girls they looked very good indeed.
“But we must be getting home,” said Ethel. “I promised Mother we’d be
back by five or six, at latest.”
“We can’t go till Uncle Jim sends us,” said Grace. “I told him we wanted
to leave at four, but he only said ‘Oh, shucks!’”
“Where is he?” asked Dolly. “And isn’t there any Aunt Jim?”
“No, he’s a bachelor. Lives here alone, except for the servants. The
truth is, he’s a little shy before a lot of strange girls. Guess I’ll go
and hunt him up.”
She ran away to the house, and Ethel explained further: “You see, he’s
Mother’s uncle. Quite an old man. And old-fashioned in his ways, except
that he has a motor-car and a telephone. But personally, he’s as
backwoodsy as Methuselah; but a dear old thing, and awfully
kind-hearted.”
Grace came back in triumph, leading Uncle Jim. Pushing and pulling him,
rather, for the old man was clearly unwilling to come.
“Now, now, Pussy, whatyer want to drag an old man like me out here fur?
These city young misses don’t wanter see me!”
“Yes, we do, Uncle Jim,” called out Ethel, and they all echoed, “Yes, we
do, Uncle Jim!”
“Well, well, what a perty lot o’ young misses. And have you all got all
the nuts you want?”
“Yes, indeedy!” cried Dolly. “All we can carry, and more too. And we’re
ever and ever so much obliged.”
“Not at all, not at all! Ye’re welcome to all and more. It’s a sight to
see young things runnin’ around the old place. Why don’t ye bring ’em up
oftener, Gracie?”
“Only waiting for an invitation, sir,” and Dotty’s sparkling black eyes
laughed into the old face.
“Shucks, now! Well, I hereby invite ye, one and all, to come up here
jest whenever ye like, and raise hob.”
“Good!” cried Maisie. “I just love to raise hob! Let’s come next week,
girls, when those other nuts are ripe.”
“Do, now jest _do_!” said the old man, delightedly. “This old place
don’t get sight of chick nor child very often. Must ye be goin’ now?
Well, mind now, ye’re to come agin next week. Make a day of it, and
bring more of yer young friends. I’ll see to it that Sary makes ye some
good old-fashioned doughnuts, and apple turnovers.”
“Look here, Uncle Jim, I’ve an idea,” and Ethel ran to him and laid her
hand impressively on his arm.
“Fer the land’s sake, Ethel, ye don’t say so!” and Uncle Jim shook with
laughter at his own wit. “A little gell like you with an idea! Sho, sho,
now. Come, out with it! It might fester!”
“Now don’t you tease me. But it’s just this. S’pose we come up here on
Hallowe’en and have a witch party.”
“My patience! what an idea for a little gell to have! Now, lemme
see,—lemme see.”
“No, that’s too much trouble for you, Uncle Jim,” said Grace. “You
oughtn’t to have proposed it, Ethel.”
“No, now, wait a minnit, Gracie. Don’t you be too hasty. ’Tain’t no
trouble at all, I wasn’t thinkin’ of that. I was thinkin’ if I could
make things nice and perty fer you young misses. That’s the trouble. I’m
plain, you see, plain, and—”
“Now, that’s just what we want, Uncle Jim, just the plain house, and
orchard. We’ll do all the fixing up, ourselves.”
“Now, now, wait a minnit, I tell you. Don’t go so everlastin’ fast. I
can’t keep up with you. Here’s the trick. You have your mother come up
in the arternoon, and she can help me put things a leetle mite to
rights. Then me and Sary and Etty can do the rest.”
“Oh, Mother’ll be glad to come. How about it, girls?”
“Why, we were going to have a Hallowe’en party, ourselves,” said Dotty,
smiling as she saw Dolly’s look of consternation.
“I know it; but don’t you think this would be more fun, in the country,
you know. Don’t you, Dolly? We won’t do it, if you say not,” and Grace
looked embarrassed, “but I thought your party was more like a
house-warming for your new playhouse, and so—”
“All right, I say,” and Dotty, turned to Dolly. “Whatcha think, Dollops?
Speak out in meetin’! If you don’t want to come up here, say so.”
“I do,” said Dolly, her face clearing. She couldn’t think as rapidly as
Dotty, and it took her a minute or two to readjust her plans. “It will
be heaps of fun. Are you sure you want us,—Uncle Jim?” The blue eyes
looked up into his own, and Uncle Jim said heartily, “You bet I do!
Every one here, and a half a dozen more perty young misses, and then
boys enough to go round, can you get that many?”
“Oh, yes, we’ll ask all our crowd, and fill up with some of the others.
What fun! I’m sure Mother will be pleased, she loves to come up here.”
“All right, Gracie, girl, you talk it over with her, and I’ll be down in
a few days, and we’ll see about it.”
“Can we go in the house, Uncle, and see how it is for a party?”
“Sure and sartain! Go right along, the hull pack o’ ye. Browse around,
and see the hull shack, and by then, I’ll be ready to send ye home. Go
right in the kitchen door. Sary, she’s the cook, ’ll be glad to see you,
and Etty, that’s her darter, ’ll show ye round.”
The girls went to the kitchen door, not quite so sure of Sary’s warm
welcome as their host was. But they found he was right.
“Well, for the land’s sake! What a delegation! Come in, Miss Grace and
Miss Ethel, and bring your friends. Excuse my untidiness. I wasn’t
no-ways expecting company.”
The apology was wholly unnecessary, for everything in Sary’s kitchen was
spick and span and shining. She was a buxom woman of middle age, and had
a broad, smiling face, overflowing with good nature. Her daughter, Etty,
was the one who brought them their cakes and cider, and she was shy, but
exceedingly curious to see the city ladies,—as the girls seemed to her.
She conducted them all over the fine old farmhouse, and listened in
surprise as they exclaimed in wonder and delight over the big open
fireplaces, and old mahogany furniture, that seemed to her the most
uninteresting and commonplace affairs.
“Perfectly gorgeous!” cried Dotty. “Oh, Grace, I’d ever so much rather
have the Hallowe’en party here. Wouldn’t you, old Dollypops?”
“Yes, of course. And we can just as well have any other sort of a party
at Treasure House.”
“Course we can. And we will. After this affair is over. I say, girls,
let’s have it a masquerade!”
“Oh, let’s!” said Maisie. “I’ve a dress all ready to wear. It’s a witch
dress, all—”
“I think we ought all to dress as witches,” interrupted Grace. “Or
spooks or hobgoblins or—”
“That’s all right,” put in Dotty, “but the boys won’t do it. They hate
dressing up.”
“Let ’em stay away, then.”
“No, a Hallowe’en party without boys is no fun. They make up the tricks
and jokes, you know.”
“That’s so,” said Dolly, “but if you tell the boys they can’t come
unless they wear spooky rigs, they’ll do it fast enough. Why, a sheet
and pillowcase ghost-rig is good enough, and that’s no trouble at all!
Don’t you know Dot, we wore them up at Crosstrees last summer, and the
boys didn’t mind a bit.”
“Yep, that’s so. Oh, the boys will come. You couldn’t keep them away.
What a fireplace to roast chestnuts or pop corn!”
They were in the dining-room now, and its enormous stone fireplace was
indeed ideal for a Hallowe’en frolic. And the kitchen, too, offered
enchanting possibilities. Then there was the orchard, if any one dared
try fortunes beneath the stars. Altogether it was a splendid chance and
the Two D’s were glad to lay aside their own half formed plans for
these.
On the way home, they talked it over, and as they drew near the Roses’
house the D’s asked the other girls to come in and talk some more.
“I can’t,” said Grace, “I promised Mother, Ethel and I would get home
early. It’s a little after five now.”
“Then you come in, Maisie,” said Dolly. “We’ll make fudge. You can stay
till six, can’t you?”
“Yes, indeed, and I’m simply starving for fudge.”