CHAPTER I.

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THE MERRYWEATHERS

[Illustration: "'TU-WHOO!' SAID THE SNOWY OWL."]

THE MERRYWEATHERS

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "QUEEN

HILDEGARDE," "GEOFFREY STRONG," ETC.

=Illustrated by=

JULIA WARD RICHARDS

[Illustration]

BOSTON

DANA ESTES & COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

_Copyright, 1904_

BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY

* * * * *

_All rights reserved_

THE MERRYWEATHERS

=Colonial Press=

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.

Boston, Mass., U. S. A.

TO

H. H. F., Jr.

WITH AFFECTIONATE GREETING.

FOR REMEMBRANCE

The sunlight falls in gold upon the golden fields,

The ruffling wave gives back the sky in blue;

The asters fringe the meadow's skirts in purple pride,

And proud the goldenrod is standing, too.

Oh! clear and far across the lonely water,

The wild bird calls his mate at close of day;

My heart cries out, my heart cries out in answer,

And oh, I fondly think of them that's far away.

Oh, fair the fields where now their feet are treading!

Oh, green the trees that blossom o'er their head!

Oh, deep and sweet the skies above them spreading,

And on their hearth the fire-glow warm and red!

Still may they hear, across the lonely water,

The wild bird call his mate at close of day;

Still may their hearts, still may their hearts make answer;

Still may they kindly think of them that's far away!

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE ARRIVAL 11

II. THE CAMP 26

III. AUF DAS WASSER ZU SINGEN 39

IV. AFTER THE PICNIC 55

V. KITTY AND WILLY 75

VI. A DISCUSSION 90

VII. WATER PLAY 106

VIII. THE MAIL 119

IX. MR. BELLEVILLE 138

X. PUPPY PLAY 155

XI. MRS. MERRYWEATHER'S VIGIL 171

XII. "SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT" 186

XIII. ABOUT VISITING 204

XIV. MOONLIGHT AGAIN 220

XV. CONCERNING VARIOUS THINGS 239

XVI. ON THE DOWN 259

XVII. THE SNOWY OWL 273

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

"'TU-WHOO!' SAID THE SNOWY OWL" (_See page 281_) _Frontispiece_

"'HERE IS YOURS,' SAID BELL; 'NEXT TO OURS'" 28

"''TIS NOT A PLATE SHIP!'" 81

"'COME ON! COME IN!'" 107

"MR. CLAUD BELLEVILLE WAS A TALL, PALLID YOUTH" 138

MRS. MERRYWEATHER'S VIGIL 175

"'SIMPLY FIERCE, YOUR REVERENCE!' SAID I" 217

"HE WAS STIRRING THE PORRIDGE INDUSTRIOUSLY, WHILE SHE

MIXED THE JOHNNY-CAKE" 233

THE MERRYWEATHERS

CHAPTER I.

THE ARRIVAL

"OH, Peggy, I am afraid!"

"Why, Margaret!"

"Yes, I am. I feel very shy and queer, going among strangers. You see, I

have never really been away in my life; never in this way, I mean. I was

always with father; and then--afterward--I went to Fernley; and though

so many people have come into my life, dear, delightful people, I have

never somehow gone into theirs. And now, to go into a whole great big

family, only two of whom--I mean which--oh, dear me! I don't know what I

mean, but I have only seen two of them, you know, and it is formidable,

you will admit, Peggy."

"Well, I feel just a scrap queer myself," said Peggy; "but I never

thought you would. And anyhow, we needn't; we both know the boys so

well, and though you have not actually seen the Snowy, you really know

her very well. Darling thing! Oh, I cannot wait till we get there! Do

you think we ever _shall_ get there, Margaret? This is the longest

journey I ever made in my life."

"How about the journey from Ohio?"

"Oh, that is different. I know all the places along the road, and they

slip by before one can think. Besides, a long journey always seems

shorter, because you know it is long. Well, you needn't laugh, you know

perfectly well what I mean. Oh, Margaret, I saw a glimpse of blue behind

the trees. Do you suppose that is the lake? do you think we are nearly

there? Oh! I am so excited! Is my hat on straight?"

Margaret Montfort, by way of reply, straightened her cousin's hat, and

then proceeded to administer sundry coaxing pats to her hair and her

ribbons.

"You are a trifle flyaway, dear!" she said. "There! now, when you have

taken the black smut off your nose, you will be as trim as possible. Am

I all right?"

"You!" said Peggy, with a despairing look, as she rubbed away at her

nose; "as if you ever had a pin or an eyelash out of place! Margaret,

how _do_ you do it? Why does dust avoid you, and cling to me as if I

were its last refuge? How do you make your collar stay like that? I

don't see why I was born a Misfit Puzzle. Oh--ee! there _is_ the lake!

just look, how blue it is! Oh! Margaret, I _must_ scream!"

"You must _not_ scream!" said Margaret with quiet decision, pulling

Peggy down into the seat beside her. "You must be good, and sit still.

See! that old gentleman is watching us, Peggy. He will be scandalized

if you carry on so."

"He doesn't look a bit scandalized; he looks awfully jolly."

"Peggy!"

"Well, he does, Margaret. Do you suppose Mr. Merryweather is anything

like that? _Margaret!_"

"What is it, Peggy? _please_ don't speak so loud!"

"Perhaps it _is_ Mr. Merryweather. I think--I am almost perfectly sure

it must be. Why, he is positively staring at us. It _must_ be Mr.

Merryweather!"

"Is Mr. Merryweather specially addicted to staring? I should not suppose

so. This gentleman is not in the least my idea of Mr. Merryweather; and

if he does stare,--there! he is looking away now,--it is because he sees

a great big girl dancing and jumping in her seat as if she were Polly

Peppercorn."

"Next station Merryweather!" chanted the brakeman.

"There! Margaret, he is getting his things together. It is! it _is_, I

tell you. Oh! I _shall_ scream!"

Peggy's threat was uttered in so loud a stage whisper, that Margaret

looked up in alarm, fearing that the gentleman must have heard. She met

a glance so kind, so twinkling with sympathetic merriment, that she

smiled in spite of herself.

The gentleman lifted his hat, instantly, and stepped forward. He was not

tall, but broad and muscular, with keen, dark eyes that sparkled under

shaggy white eyebrows; a most vigorous, positive-looking old gentleman.

"A thousand pardons!" he said, in a deep, gruff voice which was the very

essence of heartiness. "You also are getting off at Merryweather, young

ladies? I beg the privilege of assisting you with your parcels; I

insist upon it! Permit me, madam!" and he took possession of Margaret's

travelling-bag, Margaret blushing and protesting, while Peggy's blue

eyes grew to absolute circles, and her little mouth opened to another.

"You are very kind!" said Margaret. "Indeed, I can carry it

perfectly--thank you so very much! Yes, we are going to Mr.

Merryweather's camp. Do you know--"

"Harry Monmouth!" exclaimed the old gentleman. "Astonishing! Going there

myself. Permit me to introduce myself--Colonel Ferrers, at your

service."

He lifted his hat again, and bowed low.

"Our name is Montfort," said Margaret timidly, attracted and yet alarmed

by his explosive utterance, so different from the quiet speech of the

Montfort men.

"Not John's daughters!" cried the Colonel. "I'll be shot if you are

John's daughters!"

"Oh! no," cried Margaret, her eyes lightening. "Not his daughters, but

his nieces. Do you know Uncle John, Colonel Ferrers?"

"Know John Montfort? know the nose on my face? not that there is any

resemblance; fine-looking man. I have known John Montfort, my dear young

ladies, ever since he was in petticoats. John, Dick, Jim, Roger--fine

lads! used to stay at Roseholme--my place in Dutchess County--forty

years ago. School-boys when I was in college. All over the place,

climbing, hunting, fishing, falling off the roofs--great boys! haven't

heard of them for twenty years. Where are they now? all living, I--eh,

what?"

"My father, Roger Montfort, is dead," said Margaret, softly; "so is

Uncle Richard. Uncle John and Uncle James are living, Colonel Ferrers;

this is Uncle James's daughter. Peggy dear, Colonel Ferrers! and I live

with Uncle John at Fernley House. Oh! how delightful to meet some one

who knows Uncle John!"

"Pleasure is mine, I assure you!" said the Colonel, gallantly. "Harry

Monmouth! takes me back forty years. Knew Roger, your father, well, Miss

Montfort. Great scholar; fine fellow! nose in his books all day long,

just like my brother Raymond; great chums, Roger and Raymond. I remember

once--ha! here we are!"

"Merryweather!" shouted the brakeman. The train drew up beside a little

wayside station. On one side of the track, a platform and a shed, with a

few barrels and boxes lying about; on the other, a long stretch of dark

blue water, ruffling into brown where the wind swept it.

The three travellers, emerging, found three persons awaiting them on the

platform. Gerald Merryweather was first, his hand on the rail, his face

alight with joy and eagerness; close beside him was another person, a

tall girl in gray, at sight of whom Peggy, who had been apparently

stricken dumb by the aspect of Colonel Ferrers, shouted aloud and

tumbled off the car-step, to the imminent peril of life and limb.

"Snowy! Snowy! is it really you?"

"You dear Peggy!" cried Gertrude Merryweather, taking her in her arms,

and giving her a hearty kiss. "I am _so_ glad! and this is Margaret--oh!

welcome, most welcome, to Merryweather! Dear Colonel Ferrers, how do you

do? it was so good of you to come! But where is Hugh? haven't you

brought him?"

Colonel Ferrers drew her a step aside.

"My dear Gertrude," he said, in a confidential tone, "there is no need

of my telling _you_ that Hugh is one of the most astonishing--I will say

_the_ most astonishing boy I ever saw in my life. Expected to come;

looking forward to it for weeks, greatest pleasure of the summer.

Yesterday morning, Elizabeth Beadle had an attack of lumbago; painful

thing; confined to her bed; excellent woman, none better in the world.

Never could understand why good people should have lumbago; excellent

complaint for scoundrels; excellent! well, the boy--his great-aunt, you

understand!--refuses to leave her. Says she likes to have him read to

her! Preposterous! I insisted, Elizabeth Beadle insisted, with tears in

her eyes; tears, sir! I mean my dear! Boy immovable; Gibraltar

vacillating beside him; tottering, sir, on its foundations. I had to

come away and leave him, perfectly happy, reading Tennyson to Elizabeth

Beadle. Ask somebody else to coerce a boy like that; Thomas Ferrers is

not the man for it. Where's my Cochin China Chittagong?"

"Jack?" said Gertrude, laughing. "He is behind the shed, with the

horses. The old horse doesn't like the train, and will not stand tying.

As soon as Jerry gets the trunks--"

"Checks?" cried the Colonel, in answer to Gerald's request. "Two of

them, sir. Sole-leather trunk, green carpet-bag. Anything for me by

express? box, hamper, basket, that sort of thing, eh, what?"

"I should think there was, sir!" said Gerald. "A basket of peaches as

big as the camp, or very near it; and a hamper that says 'salmon!' as

plainly as if it could speak. You're awfully good, sir!"

"Nothing of the sort!" retorted the Colonel. "Pity if I can't have a

little gratification once in a way. Ah! there is my Cochin China--how

are you, sir, how are you? prancing, as usual, like an Egyptian

war-horse. Come here, and be introduced to the Miss Montforts! We are in

luck, sir! Miss Montfort, Miss--eh? thank you! Miss Peggy Montfort, my

nephew, John Ferrers. Here sir! take the bags, will you? Which way,

Gerald? eh? what?"

While the colonel was explaining (and exploding) to Gerald and Gertrude,

and Margaret looking and listening in quiet amusement, Peggy had been

hanging back, overcome in her turn by the shyness which her companion

had conquered. But now Gertrude took her by the hand, and while the

trunks were being hoisted on the wagon by Gerald and Jack, aided by a

tall and powerful lad in blue overalls, the two walked up and down the

little platform in earnest talk. Fragments of it reached Margaret where

she stood, as they passed and repassed.

"Yes, last week. She is very well, she says, and fluffier than ever, on

account of the heat. She has enjoyed her school very much. She wanted

Grace to join her, and I think she might have, if all this had not come

about. Oh, Peggy, I was so glad!"

"Blissful, my dear, is no word for it! they have no eyes for any one

else. He can't remember that there is any one else, and she--"

"Well, I always said that if Grace did care for any one--"

"Yes, in October. The wedding is to be at Fernley, and--"

"Anybody coming with me?" inquired Gerald, wistfully. "Margaret, will

you risk life and limb with me and the old horse?"

"With pleasure!" said Margaret. "Is he very wild? He doesn't look so."

"Only by comparison with the young horse!" said Gerald. "Jacob, don't

strain your back lifting that carpet-bag!"

Jacob, the youth in blue overalls, smiled calmly, and swung a large

trunk over his shoulder as if it were a hand-satchel.

"It's you I'm scared about, Gerald," he said slowly; "fear you'll do

yourself a hurt pulling on the reins. Frank hasn't been out since

yesterday."

"I'll risk him!" said Gerald. "Now, Margaret." He held out his hand, and

Margaret stepped lightly up to the seat of the Concord wagon.

"Now," said Gerald, "Jack, if you'll drive the beach-wagon--is that all

right, Toots?"

"Certainly!" said Gertrude. "Peggy, you and I will sit together behind;

that is, if you do not mind the front seat, Colonel Ferrers? So! all

right now, Jack! we'd better let the old horse go first, for he doesn't

like to stay behind the new one. Oh! Jacob! how are you going home? we

must make room for you somewhere."

"I'll go across lots," said the blue youth, "and be there to take the

horses when you get there. You better hurry them up the least mite, so's

I sha'n't have to wait too long!"

With a benign smile he vaulted over a five-barred gate, and went with a

long, leisurely stride across the fields.

"He'll run when he gets round the corner!" said Gerald. "I know that's

the way he does it. Get up, Frank! do _play_ you are alive, just for

once. Oh, Margaret, I am so glad to see you. I thought September would

never come. It has been the longest summer I ever knew. Haven't you

found it so?"

"Why, no!" said truthful Margaret. "It has seemed very short to me."

"Oh, well, of course it has been short too, summers always are; like the

dachshund!"

"The dachshund!" repeated Margaret. "What can a dachshund have to do

with summer, Gerald?"

"A description I once heard," said Gerald. "I was walking with Beppo, my

dachs, and a little boy stopped to look at him. 'Ain't he long?' he

said. 'My! ain't he short?' Even so summer. Oh, I _am_ glad to see you.

Get up, Frank!"

The Merryweathers · 第 1 / 17 章