to remain and visit Elizabeth for a few days. So they gladly remained
stretched out on the rush mats drying their long wet hair in the hot
sunshine.
“Say, mother, isn’t it past time for lunch?” called Fred, as Mrs.
Remington came from the float-stage after seeing the guests off in
their launch.
“Um--that’s what we all want to know,” added Billy.
“Perhaps it is, I’ll go up and see,” replied Mrs. Remington, but the
ringing of the bell just then caused a stampede from the rocks.
The ravenous young folks fell upon the pyramids of hot biscuits and
clam-chowder as if there would never be another mouthful of food that
summer. After three helpings to the soup and many, many slices of
bread, besides the biscuits and crackers, Fred warned them all.
“The flag is up!”
“Where?” questioned Miriam, innocently, whereupon the initiated
Islanders laughed hilariously.
“I see it!” cried Trixie, as she pointed to an American flag draped
over the fireplace of the room.
Again every one laughed, and Miriam thought she knew what it was all
about.
“What--tell us?” demanded the boys.
“It’s the same as F. H. B. Family hold back!”
She had guessed wrong so Billy offered to tell the girls. “It means,
‘Save a place for dessert--it’s _something good_!’”
“Well, who ever thought of that!” exclaimed Trixie.
“Oh, we read a story in a magazine so we adapted it for our own use.
In the tale the folks had a flag stuck on the caster in the centre of
the table. If the flag stood upright it was a sign that dessert was
good, but when the flag was down, it showed there was no need to leave
room unless one wanted to,” explained Elizabeth.
“How could any one see the flag if it was on the centre caster under
the table?” wondered Miriam.
“Ha, ha! Did you think I meant the brass roller on the table leg?”
laughed Elizabeth.
“Didn’t you?” returned Trixie.
Mrs. Remington then explained. “Some people call them cruets. They are
a silver, or plated affair, with revolving holders for bottles. In
the holder are six or seven holes in which glass bottles fit snugly.
They are filled with pepper, salt, oil, vinegar, catsup, mustard or
horseradish. The bottles are raised a few inches above the table-top
and when any one wants a condiment the revolving holder is swung about
until the bottle in need comes opposite the one wishing to use it.”
“Goodness! Did every one reach out and get the bottle he or she
wanted?” asked Trixie, sceptically.
“I saw a queer little thing like that for a doll’s tea-set but I didn’t
know what it was for,” added Edith.
“It is like everything else--things deemed necessary or fashionable
to-day pass into the antiques of to-morrow,” remarked Mrs. Remington.
“Say there, mother! don’t shunt us off on a sidetrack of antiques
when we are maintaining that vacant spot for dessert,” asserted Fred,
vehemently.
“Where is the welcome dish, anyway?” added Billy.
“Patience--Mose will soon appear with it,” said his mother.
Steps were heard shuffling towards the swing door of the pantry then,
and every eye watched the entrance of Mose. He carried a deep covered
pudding dish and several tongues smacked in anticipation.
The dish was placed accurately in front of his mistress before Mose
ceremoniously removed the silver cover.
“Ugh!” came from expectant Islanders and chairs were pushed back from
the table without delay.
“What is it?” wondered Miriam.
“Just some old bread-pudding!” scoffed Edith.
“Bread pudding is healthy, I’ve heard,” ventured Trixie to be polite to
her hostess.
“So are all nasty things to eat!” retorted Billy.
“We might give Trixie our portions, Billy,” suggested Elizabeth, as she
asked to be excused.
“Well, if no one wants this pudding I fear Mose will have to eat it all
by himself,” said Mrs. Remington, laughingly.
“Serve you right, Mose, you know how we hate bread-pudding,” added Fred.
Mose stood behind his mistress’ chair grinning but now he replied to
Fred’s remark.
“Wha’fo’ yo’ all diden’ have dat flag down!”
Every one laughed but Billy, who had gone out by the pantry. Before the
laughter had ceased however, he pushed in past the swinging door and
carried aloft a great blueberry pie.
Fred caught the dish from his brother and balanced it upon his palms in
imitation of a Japanese juggler.
“Friends and fellow Islanders! We have routed the miser who guarded
this treasure and now we place this life-saving device before you all
to help you recover from the recent fatal disappointment. The question
now before the house is, ‘To be or not to be!’”
The pie was placed before Mrs. Remington who laughed and looked at Mose
for a verdict.
“It is to be, of course!” shouted Billy, hugging his mother to show how
much he loved her just then.
“How! How!” yelled the children so that the lady of the house had to
cover her ears.
“Ah wishes t’ offer a sugges’ion!” remonstrated Mose.
“Silence while the proprietor of the pie speaks!” called Fred,
authoritatively.
“Ef yo’ each eats a bit o’ dat bread-puddin’ Ah says, let each take a
slab o’ my blueberry pie!”
“Done! Done!” promised the boys, and every one sat down to swallow
large chunks of the detestable pudding.
“While I am cutting this pie I wish some one would explain why it was
thought that a good dessert was prepared for this noon,” said Mrs.
Remington.
“How does any hungry boy know what is in the pantry?” asked Fred.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” replied his mother.
“By following his nose, of course! When a feller is famished he
naturally hangs around the kitchen. That’s what we did and so we
smelled something good. By following the trail we saw the deep-dish
pie cooling on the pantry window-sill but we dared not snitch it then
’cause Mose was right there, so we had to come in and take our turn,”
confessed Billy.
Mrs. Remington laughed as she cut the pie but one or two slices were
the fraction of an inch larger than the others, hence the hot argument
that instantly arose to confound her carelessness.
Teeth and lips were well-stained a beautiful blue-black and the
downward track of juicy pie had left telltale spots on the front of
shirts and frocks before Billy stood up and sighed. “I don’t see why it
is that there is always so little of a good thing! Now, look at that
bread-pudding--a great tub of a dish, and such a tiny little pie!”
The others laughed and Mrs. Remington added, “Well, as you had your pie
this noon, there will be no dessert to-night!”
“Say, let’s offer Mose a testimonial for that pie and who knows but he
may be flattered into baking another for dinner,” suggested Fred.
With such a worthy object in view, the young folks drew up a wonderful
set of resolutions and presented it in due form to Mose. Teddy, aged
four, was chosen as the courier while all of the others marched in line
behind the youngest of the family. As the signed vote of thanks was
presented to him, Mose laughed.
“Dis is once when yo’ all get lef’! Ha, ha, ha! When yo’ mah say,
‘Mose, dis bread gotta be used’, Ah says, ‘Yes’m, but dis fam’bly won’t
eat bread-pudding, nohow!’
“Den she says, ‘Mek it fo’ an extry dish an’ serb it fust, Mose, an’ d’
blue-berry pie kin be t’ tempter t’ make ’em eat d’ puddin’!’
“Ah wuz goin’ t’ do dat when Billy gits ahaid o’ me an’ done bring dat
pie in jes’ es ef it wuz so ordered! Ha, ha, ha!”
“Then that pie was for luncheon after all?” cried Billy.
“Shore thing!” grinned Mose.
“And didn’t you make anything for supper?” worried Paul.
“Jes’ peep in dat po’ch cupboard!” ordered Mose.
“Hurrah! That means ice-cream,” shouted Billy, for Mose always placed
the ice-packed freezer out on the back stoop where the melting ice
could drain off to the ground.
After an hour of rest, Fred called a class in First-Aids.
Ladders were placed against the bungalow roof and the Fireman’s Lift
was practised--Dudley being the willing victim who hung limp and
helpless in a faint when the brave fireman found him and carried him
down from the roof to safety.
Then the Shaefer method of resuscitation of a drowning person was
practised upon Edith. Poles were then run through sweaters and an
improvised stretcher made for Paul who was supposed to have been badly
injured in a battle. Billy and Dudley were the Red Cross men who
carried the groaning soldier away and unexpectedly dumped him out upon
the grass.
When serious practice had turned into a frolic, Fred called them all to
sit down and rest, but such a thing was impossible for healthy active
boys. However, they were stretched out upon the flat rock when Paul
asked a question.
“Fred, how long do you think it will take me to swim a hundred yards?
By the end of the month, do you think?”
“If you quit fooling and ’tend strictly to work you may. But we have
not tried to swim much before this, as the water has been too cold. We
can remain in longer, however, as the weather grows warmer.”
“If we would warm up after bathing by running and jumping we could swim
in ice-water without danger,” declared Billy.
“We might try that--and do the ‘Hop, step, and jump,’ for a _coup_ and
see how it will warm us up after bathing,” added Fred.
Mrs. Remington overheard the boys planning and she now interrupted.
“I’ll tell you boys what you might do! You know that bare rocky plateau
on top of the Island where the sun always shines so hot? Well, take
some sun-baths there after you come out of the cold water. Take an old
cot and a spare mattress and leave it there if you like. Besides, you
can always use the canoe cushions. By getting tanned all over you will
harden and fortify your bodies so that a little chill of the water will
not affect you as it is apt to do now.”
This was considered good advice and the boys carried out the plan and
resorted to the rock the very next morning.
“In case any one of you should get the shivers after the bath, run to
the bungalow and have Mose give you a cup of hot soup--it will warm
you through at once,” called Mrs. Remington, as the boys left the
float-stage where the others were talking.
That evening while every one sat about reading until it came time
for bed, Billy suddenly entered the living-room dressed as Charlie
Chaplin. He had not been missed from the family party so the surprise
was all the more genuine. He had on a pair of Fred’s long trousers, a
black coat of his father’s, a gigantic pair of old shoes from Mose’s
wardrobe, and a cane found in the hall-closet. He had cut a small piece
of black fur from the rug and attached it to his upper lip with a
piece of spruce gum.
Billy was an excellent mimic and could appear most serious upon
occasion, and now he threw every one into spasms of laughter by his
mimicry of the famous comedian. Before long, all of the audience wanted
to act too, so the bungalow living-room became a scene for a motion
picture play where fear, joy, sorrow and crime were registered by
villains, hero and heroine.
“Say, wouldn’t it be fun to have a character party,” suggested
Elizabeth, when every one had to stop and rest for a time.
“Oh, yes! Let’s do it!” cried a number of eager voices.
“Children, you _must_ go to bed! Why, it is fully an hour past the
usual time,” reminded Mrs. Remington.
“But we will get together in the morning and plan out some dandy
costumes, shall we?” cried Billy, as they all started for bed.
And that was how the idea started which developed later into the Grand
Masked Ball.
CHAPTER SIX
THE PICNIC AT SPRUCE ISLAND
“Yo ho, ye Sunset Islanders!” called a voice from the doorway of the
bungalow, and there stood the Captain from Isola Bella with a note in
his hand.
“Oh Benton, you’re not going to take me home?” cried Miriam, watching
Mrs. Remington’s face anxiously as she opened the letter.
“No indeed, Miriam--it is an invitation,” said Mrs. Remington. “Listen,
my children, and you shall hear of a picnic planned on Spruce Island
for to-morrow if the day is fine. Uncle Bill says that the tide
will not be quite right--high in the middle of the day and ebb all
afternoon, but we can all go down in the launch.”
“Oh, that will be great!” cried Paul.
“I think Uncle Bill’s a brick!” exclaimed Billy.
“If there’s a cap full of wind I’m going to sail down, mother, and
add to my mileage for the sailing _coup_,” added Fred, quick to take
advantage of such a good opportunity.
“Suppose you can’t sail back?” asked Elizabeth.
“Then we can be towed back--if the worst comes to the worst. Who wants
to sail with me?” said Fred.
So many replied that they had to draw lots with slips of paper and Paul
and Dudley won the prize.
“Oh, won’t that be fine!” cried Paul, dancing about with the winning
slip of paper waving over his head.
“Hurrah, I got a winner, too! You’ll let me help sail her, won’t you,
Fred?” begged Dudley.
“Well, I’ll let you learn if you’ll do just as I say,” replied Fred,
doubtfully.
“Cross my heart, I will,” said Dudley, solemnly.
“Oh, I don’t care if you do sail, Dud, ’cause Benton’s goin’ to let
_me_ steer the Zeus,” bragged Billy, nonchalantly.
“Yes, Sonny, I’m going to prepare you for that launch you told me
you wanted to buy,” agreed the Captain with whom Billy was a great
favourite.
Mrs. Remington smiled at the Captain’s reference to the “phantom
launch” of Billy’s and handed Benton a note of acceptance for the
picnic.
As the Captain backed to the door of the bungalow, he remarked in
farewell, “I must be goin’ across the bay, now, to take an invitation
to your uncle and aunt.”
“I s’pose Mrs. Charlton will take me back home with her to-night, so I
may as well be packing my suit-case,” grumbled Trixie, dolefully.
“Yes, I suppose so! I believe Mrs. Charlton has planned a motor trip
for you,” added Mrs. Remington.
“I wish Trixie could stay with us all summer, mother,” sighed Elizabeth.
“Well, we must have her over again very soon, dear,” replied Mrs.
Remington.
“Oh, I wish you would! But I ought to have a better camp outfit--my
checked skirt is the only suitable article I really have for the boat
or outdoor fun,” said Trixie.
The entire party trooped down to see Captain Benton off and while he
embarked the supper bell rang from the bungalow doorway. Then there was
a race on the course from the float-stage to the table. As usual, when
it was a question of eating, Paul came in first.
That evening, the moonlight was so beautiful that Fred proposed a row
around the Island. Everybody accepted without hesitation and the two
boats were soon gliding through the water in the silvery track of the
moon.
The merry voices of the young singers in the party sounded far over the
calm bay and roused Uncle Bill’s mastiff. No doubt the dog heard and
recognised the voices of his little pals of the Island. The baying of
Nelson then brought the plaintive “baa-baas” of the sheep on Islesboro
and blended musically with the singing.
“Say, let’s call to Nelse!” suggested Billy, about to whistle when
Miriam quickly stopped him.
“No, no! Nelson will surely try to swim over to join us, you know!”
cried Miriam.
“Did Nelse ever swim as far as this?” asked Paul.
“You bet he did, the old rascal!” laughed Billy.
“It was one day when Mamma and all of us from Isola Bella came to a
picnic over here and Nelson was left alone. After he hunted everywhere
for some one to share his watch, he decided to follow after us. We had
all gone to the south end when we heard a crashing through the bushes
back of us. And there stood old Nelse--all in, too, from the long swim
in the icy water,” explained Miriam.
“Gee whiz! Nelson ought to have a Grand _coup_ for that!” laughed
Dudley.
“Well, that’s why Papa doesn’t want him to try it again,” added Miriam,
seriously.
“Why--because he won a Grand _coup_?” teased Billy.
“_Oh_, you know what I mean!” retorted Miriam, while the others laughed
merrily.
“Doesn’t the tide make the island a lot bigger when it is low?”
remarked Paul, looking curiously at the shore line.
“Yes, it adds an acre or two to the area,” replied Fred.
“Do you think the sky looks as if it would be a clear day for the
picnic?” now asked Dudley, anxiously, peering at a cloud as large as
his hand.
“Sure thing! But I think we ought to get back to camp and go to bed so
we can get up bright and early,” advised Fred.
So without further demur the boats were turned toward the float and the
Islanders were soon climbing the path to the tents.
Early in the morning, came a clarion call that hastened the toilettes
of the occupants of tents and bungalow--“Rouse ye Britons, Rouse ye
Slaves!”
Billy sprang out of bed and waved his hand in token of obedience, as he
saw his mother stand calling through the megaphone.
“Hurry up now, we’ve got a lot to do before we’re ready for the
picnic,” advised Fred, pulling Paul out of his cot.
Breakfast was a hurried meal that morning as every one was busily
engaged in getting everything needed to make the picnic at Spruce
Island a success. Elizabeth and Fred were packing the big hamper with
good things while Billy and Dudley were helping Mose and Mrs. Remington.
The wheel-barrow had been loaded three times and the picnic stuff
transported from the commissary department of the bungalow to the
float-stage before all was ready and waiting for the boat.
At the last moment Mrs. Remington saw Edith standing looking about for
any forgotten item. Suddenly she called to the child.
“Oh, Edith! Don’t forget the nature books! You know Spruce Island is
rich in specimens of wild flowers and you Woodcrafters will want to
complete your lists of fifty varieties.”
“Oh, I almost forgot that! And I only have twenty more to get for my
_coup_ for wild flowers,” cried Edith, running indoors.
“Anna, are you quite sure we packed enough sandwiches?” asked Mrs.
Remington, turning to the governess as she came from the house.
Anna laughed. “If the heaped-up loads I saw taken by slow freight via
the wheel-barrow route a few moments ago are all eatables, I should say
we could feed the starving Belgians for a week, at least!”
“Oh, well, Anna, you know how our children _eat_ and then there will be
the Rosemary folks and all of the Isola Bella people, too!” reminded
Mrs. Remington, seriously.
“Even so, won’t they bring hampers?” returned Anna.
“Well, Aunt Miriam is bringing a large freezer of ice-cream and Aunt
Edith said she would bake two large cakes, but I haven’t the slightest
idea of what else they may bring.”
“Judging from past picnics, I should guarantee that each one of the
three families will take enough to last all summer,” remarked Anna,
smilingly.
“Maybe, but it also is a fact that not a crumb is ever found to carry
back home or throw to the fish!”
At this moment Fred appeared on the scene with a plan.
“Mother, Paul and Dud and I want to sail to the Island in the dory. You
see, I want to win my sailing _coup_ for one hundred and fifty miles
this summer, and this opportunity is a good one.”
“But the tide is against you, Fred,” objected his mother.
“That won’t matter so much as there is a nice stiff breeze from the
northwest and the boys have agreed to be good.”
“Well, all right, then,” complied his mother.
By ten-thirty the boys had started and the others were all ready and
waiting impatiently for the first peep at the Zeus which was to take
them to Spruce Island.
“What a boatful! And still more to come,” laughed Billy, as he watched
Captain Benton carefully manipulate the Zeus to bring it alongside the
float.
“Why, where’s Aunt Miriam and Uncle Bill?” cried Edith, missing them
from the group in the Zeus.
“The ice-cream was not quite finished and so Papa sent to ask the
Captain to stop again for them on the way down,” explained Miriam.
Captain Ed had just started the power-dory that was to carry the
commissary and Mose to Spruce Island, when Billy, watching, gave vent
to a loud sigh.
“What’s troublin’ you, sonny?” asked the Captain.
“Ah gee! I wish I had a launch and you know as well as I where there’s
a peach I could get at a bargain!”
“Maybe, if you’re a good boy something will happen about the time of
your birthday,” hinted Mrs. Remington.
“Oh, mother! I’d be willing to go without my allowance and add all my
Christmas money to it, too, if I could have that launch now!” exclaimed
Billy, eagerly.
“Well, never mind now, but try to behave and earn the launch that way,”
advised his mother.
Arrived at Isola Bella the mariners found Uncle Bill making a great
to-do about moving the heavy ice-cream freezer over on the wharf. Aunt
Miriam and two lady visitors stood giving him superfluous advice as he
did things his own way, after all.
After the freezer was safely shipped, a large hamper of goodies
followed, and then the ladies were assisted aboard.
“Hurrah! We’re off at last!” cried Uncle Bill, as they rounded the
south end of Isola Bella.
“And I can see the Orion with all on board! Blow the whistle, Billy,
and salute them,” added Mrs. Remington.
An answering whistle came from Uncle Tom, and soon his launch carrying
the second party slipped along after the Zeus on its way to Spruce
Island.
“How about a chantey!” shouted Uncle Bill, for he had been very quiet
for at least two minutes.
Without a second’s delay, Billy started up and the rest joined in the
song.
RIO GRANDE
“I’m bound away
This very day
Away you Rio
I’m bound away
This very day
And I’m bound for the Rio Grande.
And oh, Rio, away you Rio, I’m bound away
This very day, and I’m bound for the Rio Grande.”
By the time this swinging song was concluded Uncle Tom started one from
the Orion and the passengers of the Zeus joined in.
FLYING-FISH SAILOR
“I’m a flying fish sailor
Bound down from Hong Kong
Blow, blow, blow, the man down--
I’m a flying-fish sailor
Bound down from Hong Kong
Give us a chance to blow the man down.”
“Blow the man up to me
Blow the man down
Blow, blow, blow him around.
Blow bullies blow,
Blow the man down
Give us a chance to blow the man down.”
Having arrived at Spruce Island, a brigade was formed to carry boxes,
hampers, and wraps from the boats to the picnic spot in the shade of a
clump of firs.
The younger element in the party wanted to start at once on an
exploration of the island, which contained nearly two hundred acres,
thickly wooded with fir trees and white birch overhanging the rocky
bluffs of the shore.
“See here, boys, if you go alone on this quest, you must promise to
stick together. We have never been all over the island and there may be
danger spots that we know nothing of, you see. With a crowd there is
comparative safety, but should one of you straggle away and get into
trouble it might be difficult to help,” admonished Uncle Bill.
The very seriousness of the habitually jolly man made an impression
on the boys so that Fred promised for all of them. “And we’ll be all
right, folks, never fear,” added he.
“I don’t see why we girls can’t go with you,” pouted Trixie.
“That isn’t it, but I really do not approve of the boys going alone, to
say nothing of you girls going too!” remonstrated Aunt Miriam.
The boys made quick work of getting away for fear of being called back
by one of the troubled mothers while the girls were soon engaged in
finding new specimens of flowers for their books.
“If we gather them now we can identify and arrange them after lunch
this noon,” suggested Elizabeth.
The boys had covered many acres of the island and were feeling like
genuine explorers when Billy suddenly spied a fish-hawk’s nest high up
in a tall spruce.
“Great Scott, Bill! _What_ a chance to get a snapshot of that osprey’s
nest,” called Fred.
“It’s lucky that I brought my kodak, isn’t it?” added Paul.
“The tree looks kind of risky to climb,” ventured Dudley.
“Oh, no, I can climb it easy enough,” boasted Billy.
“Bill’s climbed higher and worse trees than this one,” added Fred.
“Well, seein’ he’s the best climber in the bunch I’ll let him use my
kodak if he wants to shinny up and try for a close-up picture,” offered
Paul.
“That’ll be great! and I can add another one to my list of wild-bird
photographs,” said Billy, delightedly.
“For me too,” said Paul.
“Why, no, it won’t count for you unless you climb up and get it,”
remonstrated Dudley.
An argument followed that made Paul sulky but Billy paid little
attention to him as he took the kodak and climbed up the giant spruce.
There was a thick tangle of undergrowth all about the tree and the boys
had had to break through this before reaching the spruce. So intent
were Fred and Dudley in watching Billy go higher and ever higher, that
they failed to note Paul’s absence.