TED’S TUMBLE
There was silence in the house of the Curlytops for a few moments after
the ringing of the front doorbell. Ted and Janet stood in the center of
the kitchen, looking first at one another and then at the floor, covered
with dough, milk and sliced apples.
Again the bell rang.
“Ted, you’ll have to go!” exclaimed Janet.
“Me go? Look at me! All milk!” gasped Ted. “You go and see who it is!”
Once more the bell rang, this time longer than before.
“Ted, you’ve _got_ to go!” exclaimed his sister.
“Aw, well, I’ll go,” replied Ted, not very eager. He took out his
handkerchief and wiped off some of the milk that had splashed on him.
Slowly he shuffled to the front door. As he opened it he started back in
surprise.
Ted expected to see, perhaps, a peddler or an agent. He knew it could
not be his mother, for she would either have let herself in with a key
or have come to the back door. Any neighbor would also have come to the
back entrance for an informal call. But this was a different visitor.
It was Mrs. Keller, the white-haired wife of Mr. Keller, the gentleman
who had pulled Trouble from beneath the feet of the elephant.
“Oh!” gasped Ted, in surprise. Then again he said: “Oh!”
“How do you do, my dear?” asked Mrs. Keller, in her gentle voice. “I
have come to pay a little visit to your mother. My husband and I are
going to Sunset Beach rather sooner than we expected, and I wanted to
see your mother again before we left. I want to give her my address at
the seashore.”
By this time Teddy had begun to remember some of his manners, and he
opened the door wider and murmured:
“Come in, please. Mother isn’t here, but she’ll be back soon, and——”
Ted looked down at his knickerbockers and discovered a chunk of dough
clinging to one knee. He reached down, hoping to get it off before Mrs.
Keller saw it. But as she was coming into the hall she noticed it and
asked:
“What’s that?”
“Oh—er—now that—that’s—pie dough!” and Ted, in desperation, blurted
out the words.
“Pie dough?” repeated Mrs. Keller.
“Yes,” explained the boy. “You see my sister was making a pie—and my
hand slipped and—now—the pie spilled on the floor. It’s on the floor
now—it hasn’t been baked yet—I mean the pie hasn’t,” Ted added, as he
finally got the lump of dough off his knee and began rolling it between
his fingers.
“Oh, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Mrs. Keller. “I suppose you were helping
your sister make the pie, to surprise your mother when she comes home.
That was very nice of you, I’m sure. But perhaps——”
Ted was an honest little boy. He did not want Mrs. Keller to think that
he was trying to help Janet when he wasn’t. So he made haste to say:
“No’m, I wasn’t just exactly helping Janet. She was making the pie all
by herself, and I came in and I was going to put some of the sliced
apples in the bowl of dough and—and—well, the pie got spilled—that’s
all I know.”
Mrs. Keller smiled at Teddy. I think she understood just what had
happened, for she said:
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t mean to spill the pie, though perhaps it
would have been just as well for you to have stayed out of the kitchen
when your sister was baking. I wonder if your mother would mind if I
went out to see if there is anything I could do?”
“I guess she’d be glad to have you,” Ted answered.
“I suppose it is rather odd of me, on my first visit, to go into a
strange, kitchen—especially when a pie has been spilled,” went on the
caller. “But I know just how your sister must feel.”
“Come on out,” invited Ted, backing through the hall door in the
direction of the kitchen.
“I’ll just take off some of my things,” said Mrs. Keller, removing her
hat and gloves.
Janet, meanwhile, had been standing in the middle of the disordered
kitchen, wondering who it was that had rung the bell. She heard the
murmur of voices, but the tones (except for those of Ted) were not those
of any acquaintance. At last Janet could stand her curiosity no longer.
Tiptoeing to the door that led into the hall, she opened it slightly and
hoarsely, whispered:
“Who is it, Ted?”
At that moment Ted was escorting the lady caller down the hall, and he
almost bumped into Janet as he answered:
“It’s Mrs. Keller!”
“Oh! Oh!” murmured Janet. And then she remembered what a state she was
in—milk and pie dough down the front of her apron. She thought of how
the kitchen looked—milk and pie dough all over the floor. “Oh! Oh!”
murmured the little girl again.
Mrs. Keller had once had children of her own, though they were now grown
up, married and moved away. But she remembered some of the sad and
worrisome spots of childhood, and she must have guessed how Janet felt.
“There, my dear!” she said kindly, “don’t worry. It was an accident, I’m
sure, and couldn’t have been helped. Never mind how you look, or how the
kitchen looks. I’m coming out to help you clean up.”
“Oh,” sighed Janet, “I—I guess it needs it.”
And if ever a kitchen did need cleaning up, it was the Martin kitchen at
that moment.
However, Mrs. Keller did not exclaim, or say “what a dreadful sight!” or
anything like that. She just smiled, patted Janet on her shoulder in a
friendly way, and said:
“Now, don’t worry. It won’t take long, and we’ll soon have everything as
clean as when mother went away. And, if you’ll let me, I’ll finish
making the pie for you.”
“But we haven’t any cinnamon,” said Janet.
“I know where there’s some!” exclaimed Ted. “I took the box out the
other day when Norah was making apple sauce, and I put it up on another
shelf. I remember now. I’ll get it.”
“Then if we have cinnamon, and you had all the rest of what was needed,
there is no reason in the world why I can’t make an apple pie,” said
Mrs. Keller. “It won’t be the first one I have made!” she added, with a
laugh.
Ted found the cinnamon, and then, at Mrs. Keller’s suggestion, he took
some warm water, soap and a rag and cleaned his suit as best he could.
As Janet wore an apron, her dress did not suffer. Then Mrs. Keller had
the children pick up the scattered apples and dough from the floor, and
the floor was mopped clean.
Soon the kitchen looked as it had when Mrs. Martin left, and a little
later a fine apple pie, made by the quick and skillful hands of the
visitor, was browning in the oven.
“Oh, that smells good!” murmured Ted.
“Delicious,” sighed Janet. “I’m so glad you came, Mrs. Keller.”
“Could I give a piece of pie to a nellifunt?” asked a voice in the
doorway, and Trouble entered from his play in the yard.
“Ah, there’s the little elephant boy!” laughed Mrs. Keller, as she
gathered him up in her arms, for she loved children. “Well, have you
seen any circus parades to-day?” she asked.
“No’m. But I saw a hand organ man an’ he’s got a monkey an’ could I have
a piece of pie for the monkey?” William asked, all in one breath.
“Oh, no! We don’t want to give Mrs. Keller’s nice pie to a monkey!”
objected Janet.
“He’s a nice monkey,” said Trouble.
“Well, you’d better stay in here with me,” said Teddy. “Once he followed
a hand organ man and a monkey away off down the street,” Ted explained
to Mrs. Keller, “and we have to watch him.”
“Yes, I suppose you do,” the visitor said. “Now that the pie is in the
oven, and will soon be done, I think I’ll wash my hands, for your mother
may come along any minute.”
“She’ll be surprised to see you,” ventured Ted.
“And she’ll be glad,” added Janet.
“I hope she won’t think I did too much—making free in her kitchen the
way I did,” said the caller.
“No, she’ll be glad,” Ted went on. “I’ll tell her what happened,
though,” he said quickly, with a look at Janet. For he had not forgotten
his part in the accident.
“Yes, it is best to tell mother or daddy everything,” said the dear old
lady. She took off the apron she had been wearing, washed her hands and
was going to sit in the parlor, for the pie would need to bake ten
minutes more, when in came Mrs. Martin.
“Oh!” exclaimed the mother of the Curlytops, as she entered and saw her
visitor. “How glad I am to see you, Mrs. Keller,” she went on.
“Thank you, I am glad I had a chance to call,” was the answer. “I came
to say that my husband and I are going to Sunset Beach sooner than we
expected, and I want to give you our address there and get yours.”
“Oh, Mother,” began Janet, when Mrs. Keller had finished. “I was
making——”
Just then Norah, who had come back from the grocery with the cinnamon,
opened the door from the kitchen and, not knowing there was company, she
cried out:
“Who baked the pie that’s in the oven?”
At once Mrs. Martin understood that something unusual had happened while
she was out.
“Norah, what do you mean?” she asked.
“I was starting to make a pie,” the cook explained, “and I had no
cinnamon. And when I come back there’s a lovely pie baking in the oven
and——”
“Mrs. Keller made the pie!” sang out Ted and Janet together.
“Yes, I think I shall have to confess,” the visitor said, with a smile.
“When I arrived I found your little daughter in trouble, and I helped
her out.”
“It was—now, it was my fault,” manfully confessed Teddy.
Then, by degrees, the whole story was told. Mrs. Martin could not help
laughing, though, afterward, she scolded Teddy for doing what he had
done to annoy Janet.
“It was very good of you, Mrs. Keller,” said the mother of the
Curlytops.
“Not at all. I was glad to do it. I have rather missed my own kitchen
since my husband and I came away,” was the answer.
Then the two ladies sat down to talk while Ted, Janet and Trouble ran
out to play.
“Jan, will you keep Trouble with you a little while, so he won’t bother
me?” asked Teddy. “I’m going to do something.”
“What you going to do?” his sister wanted to know.
Leaning over toward Janet to whisper, so William would not hear, Ted
answered:
“I’m going to play fireman. I’ll let you play when I get everything all
fixed, but I don’t want Trouble to come until I’m ready. You play with
him.”
“All right,” agreed his sister. She was pleased with Ted because he had
taken the blame for the pie trouble in the kitchen. “Come on, Trouble,”
she called to her little brother. “We’ll go feed the ducks,” for Mr.
Martin kept a few ducks and some chickens.
Thus relieved, Ted began to plan his fun. As he had said, he wanted to
play fireman. There was a short ladder in the garage, and it was Ted’s
plan to put this up against a shed, where Patrick kept the lawn mower
and other garden tools, and climb up, pretending he was a fireman with a
hose putting out a blaze on the roof of a ten-story building.
Ted brought out the ladder and leaned it up against the shed. He climbed
up part way, and was going higher when he heard the voices of Janet and
Trouble shouting. Also he heard the barking of a dog and he thought:
“Oh, maybe a dog is after Trouble! I’d better get down and see!”
Before he could climb down the ladder, however, there came rushing
around the corner of the garage not only a dog, but a cat. The dog was
chasing the cat, and after them came Trouble and Janet.
The cat, with her tail fluffed out as large as a bologna sausage, was
headed toward Ted’s ladder, thinking, perhaps, she could climb it.
“You stop chasing that kitty!” yelled Janet, as she tore along, Trouble
doing his best to keep up with her, but not succeeding very well.
“Chief! Chief! Let that cat alone!” shouted Ted at the dog, for the
animal was one belonging to Billy Burgett, a chum of Ted’s. “Come back,
Chief!” shouted Ted, from his perch on the ladder.
But Chief was in no mood to mind. It was the first cat he had chased in
over a week, and he was going to make the most of it. With loud barks he
raced on after poor pussy.
The cat made a dart for Ted’s ladder and did manage to climb up a little
way.
“Oh, look at the pussy climbin’ a ladder!” shouted Trouble, in delight.
Chief was headed directly for the ladder also, and seeing the danger Ted
shouted:
“Get back, Chief! Go ’way! Lie down!”
“Chief! Chief, come here!” shrieked Janet.
The dog, however, barking still more loudly, kept on. Ted began to climb
down the ladder, but it was too late.
Chief tried to climb up the rungs to get the cat that was now above
Ted’s head, but the weight of the Curlytop boy and the dog was too much.
The ladder began to slip.
“Look out!” cried Ted.
“Oh! Oh!” gasped Janet.