SWIFT CAMILLA
At last the car came. Patty was in a flutter of joyous expectation, and,
as Miller came whirring up the drive in it, the whole family assembled
on the veranda to admire it.
“Isn’t it a beauty, Nan! Oh, isn’t it?” Patty exclaimed, as the sunlight
flashed gold sparkles on the shining paint.
“It is, indeed, Patty. I never saw such a pretty one. Are you sure you
can run it?”
“Oh, yes! I know how already. You just stick in a key and turn it, and
grab the brake-handle, and take hold of the steering bar, and push and
pull whenever you think you ought to.”
“Not very technical language,” said Mr. Fairfield, smiling, “but I think
you understand the operation. Jump in, Puss; I’m going with you for your
first spin.”
But, though Mr. Fairfield was an interested spectator, Patty manipulated
the car all by herself, and seemed to know intuitively a great many of
the minor details.
“There’s only one trouble, dad,” she said, as they went spinning along
the smooth, hard road, “I can’t take you and Nan with me both at once.”
“Never mind, girlie; when we feel as sociable as that, we’ll go in the
big car. Now, Patty, let me see you change the speed.”
Then followed a careful lesson, in speed changing, stopping suddenly,
turning, going backward, and all the various emergencies that occur in
driving.
“You certainly are a born motorist, Patty,” said her father, at last.
“You are unusually clever and quick-witted about knowing what to do, and
doing it swiftly and cleanly. Hesitation in motoring often means
trouble.”
“It’s because I love it, father. I’d rather motor than go driving or
boating or even flying. Aren’t you glad I don’t want an aëroplane,
daddy?”
“You wouldn’t get it, if you did. Not even if you earned it yourself, as
you did this car. Now, Patty, turn around and let’s go home.”
Skilfully, Patty turned around, and they sped on their homeward way.
“Some things you must promise me, Patty,” said her father, seriously, as
they drew near the house. “Never start out without knowing pretty
definitely how long it will take you, and when you’ll return. Never go
without being sure you have enough current for the trip. Of course,
Miller will look after this for you, but I want you to understand it
thoroughly yourself.”
“Yes, I want to learn all about the working parts, and how to repair
them, if necessary.”
“That will come later. Learn to run it perfectly, first. And, too, I
want you to promise never to start anywhere so late that there’s even a
possibility of your being out after dark. I wouldn’t let you go out
alone, or with a girl friend, in the city, but down here you may do so,
if you never travel except by daylight. You understand, Patty?”
“Yes, father, and I promise. As you know, I only want to go on little,
short drives, two or three hours, usually.”
“Very well. I trust you not to do anything of which I would disapprove.
You’re a good girl, Patty; at least, you mean to be. But sometimes your
enthusiasms and inclinations run away with you, and you have no sense of
moderation.”
“H’m,” said Patty, smiling; “now I’ve been lectured enough for one
lesson, father dear. Save the rest for another day, and watch me whiz up
this drive to the house like an expert.”
She did so, and Nan, awaiting them, exclaimed with pride at Patty’s
skilful driving.
“Your turn now, Nan,” the girl called out; then, mindful of her promise,
she looked at her watch. “It’s just three,” she said. “Let’s go over to
the Arbutus Inn Tea Room, have a cup of tea, and get back home before
six? How’s that, father?”
“That’s all right, my good little girl. I don’t believe you’ll have any
trouble running it, do you?”
“No, indeed! It’s as easy as pie! I just love to run it.”
Soon Nan was ready, and the two started off in great glee.
“I can hardly believe you really have the car, Patty; didn’t you learn
to run it very quickly?”
“Well, you see, I have driven cars before. Big ones, I mean. And this is
different, but so much simpler, that it’s no trouble at all. Oh! Nan,
isn’t the scenery gorgeous?”
Gorgeous wasn’t at all the right word, but a tamer one would not have
suited Patty’s mood. They were rolling along the coast: on one side the
ocean; on the other, an ever-changing panorama of seashore settlements
with their hotels and cottages, interspersed with stretches of fine
woods, or broad, level vistas with distant horizons.
“It’s beautiful, Patty. We’ll have a lovely time this summer.”
“Yes; don’t let’s have too much company. I’d like to have Christine down
for a few weeks, and of course Elise will make us a visit; but I don’t
want that horde of boys.”
“Why not?” asked Nan, in amazement, for Patty greatly enjoyed the boys’
calls in New York.
“Oh, I don’t know! It’s so quiet and peaceful, just with us; and, if
they come, they’ll stir up picnics and dances and all sorts of things.”
“I know what’s the matter with you, Patty,” said Nan, laughing; “you’ve
got automobile fever! You just want to ride and ride in this pretty car
of yours, along these good roads, and just give yourself up to indolent
enjoyment of it.”
“That’s just it! How did you know, Nan?”
“Oh, everybody feels that way when they first own a car. I’ve often
noticed it. Sometimes they want to ride entirely alone, and just revel
in automobility.”
“Gracious, Nan! What a word! Well, I might want to go all alone once in
a while; but usually I want some one to rave about it all with me.”
“Well, I’m ready to rave at any time. Isn’t that the Inn, off there to
the right?”
“Yes, so it is. How quickly we’ve come! Nan, there’s a line of poetry in
my mind, and I can’t think of it.”
“Oh, what a catastrophe! Is it the only line you know?”
“Don’t be silly. But, truly, I do want to think of it, for it’s about
the name of this car.”
“Perhaps a cup of tea will quicken your wits.”
“Perhaps. Well, we’ll try. Jump out, Nan; here we are.”
By a clever little contrivance, Patty could lock her car, and so feel
sure it would not be tampered with. In a country place, like this
somewhat primitive roadhouse where they now were, this was a decided
satisfaction.
The Tea Room, though small, was dainty and attractive. It was kept by
two pleasant-faced spinsters, and, though their clientèle was not large,
they sometimes served guests at several tables.
“Only a little after four,” said Patty, looking at her watch. “We can
stay till five, Nan, and then get home by six.”
“All right,” returned Nan, who was walking along the narrow garden
paths, admiring the old-fashioned flowers and tiny box borders.
Patty went into the little Inn, ordered tea and hot waffles and cakes,
and then returned to Nan.
“It’s a dear little place,” she said. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never
been here before. Tea will be ready in twenty minutes.”
When served, the little repast was delightful. Old-time silver and
old-fashioned china made it all seem quaint and interesting.
They dawdled over their tea, sometimes chatting, sometimes sitting
silent. It was a bit of good fortune that these two were so congenial,
for, Fate having thrown them together, they were much in each other’s
company. As there was but six years’ difference in their ages, their
relation was far more like sisters than like mother and daughter. And,
though Nan never dictated to Patty, she taught her much by example, and,
at the same time, she herself learned some things from her stepdaughter.
“S’pect we’d better move on, Nannie,” said Patty, at last, as it was
nearly five. “I’ll pay the reckoning for this feast, and then we’ll
start. Oh, it has just come to me!”
“What has?”
“That line of poetry that I couldn’t think of! This is it, ‘When swift
Camilla scours the plain.’”
“Well, what of it?”
“Why, it’s the name for my car! Swift Camilla! See?”
“A pretty name enough. But is she swift?”
“I’ll speed her going home, and just show you!”
“Patty, don’t you dare! You know I’m only going to motor with you if you
go with great moderation.”
“All right; I won’t scare you. But that’s her name, all the same.”
Soon the Swift Camilla was once more skimming along the country roads.
Patty went only at moderate speed, for she had no wish to frighten Nan,
and, too, she had promised her father to be very careful.
They were about halfway home, when Patty saw a cow in the road ahead.
“I wish that old cow would get out of the way,” she said. “A cow has no
business to be in the middle of the road like that.”
She slowed down, and the car crawled along behind the cow, but the
indifferent animal paid no heed to the motor or the horn, and ambled
along in mild indifference.
“Oh, get out of the way!” cried Patty, exasperatedly. Then, more
coaxingly, “Please, cow, nice cow, do get out of the way.”
This brought no response, and Patty grew angry again.
“Shoo! Cow! Shoo! Get out of the road! If you don’t, I’ll—I’ll——” But
she could think of no direful deed that would affect the cow, so she
paused. Then she resorted to sarcasm: “A nice sort of cow you are,
anyway! Alone and unattended on a country road! Why, anybody might
kidnap you! Where’s your cow-herd, or whatever you call him?”
“Patty, don’t be silly,” said Nan, choking with laughter. “Get out and
chase the cow away. Hit her with a stick, or something. Throw a little
stone at her,—just a very little one. Don’t hurt her!”
Patty’s eyes grew round with horror.
“Why, Nan Fairfield, I’m more afraid of that cow than of all the
automobiles in the world! I’m _terribly_ afraid of cows! I’m more afraid
of cows than of _anything_, except a mouse! But a mouse wouldn’t block
up the road so dreadfully. Nan, you get out and chase the cow.”
“No,—no,” said Nan, shuddering. “I’m afraid of cows, too. Patty, I’ll
tell you what! Steer _around_ the cow!”
“Just the thing! I believe there’s just about room enough. If she’ll
only stay in the middle, now. Which side do you think there’s more room,
Nan?”
“On the right. Go round her on the right.”
There was plenty of room, and Patty steered carefully out toward the
right, and passed the cow safely enough.
“Hurrah!” she cried, but she hurrahed a trifle too soon.
As she directed her car back to the hard road, she discovered that she
had sidetracked into a very sandy place. The front wheels of her car
were all right, but the hind wheels were stuck in the sand,—one but a
little, the other deeply.
“Put on more speed!” cried Nan. “Hurry, before it sinks in deeper!”
Patty put on more speed, which, contrary to her intent, made the hind
wheels sink lower and lower in the soft sand. The car had stopped, and
no effort of Patty’s could start it.
She looked at Nan with a comical smile.
“Adventure No. 1!” she said. “Oh, Nan, we can’t get home by six! Indeed,
I don’t see how we can ever get home.”
“Are you frightened, Patty?”
“No; there’s nothing to be frightened about. But I’m—well, hopping mad
just about expresses my feelings! You see, Nan, it’s like a quicksand;
the more we struggle to get out, the deeper we get in.”
“H’m; what are you going to do?”
“Just plain nothing, my lady; for the simple reason that there’s nothing
to do.”
“And do you propose to sit here all night?”
“That’s as Fate wills it! Do you suppose father will come to look for
us,—say, along toward midnight?”
“Patty, don’t be a goose! Fred will be scared to death!”
“Because I’m a goose? Oh, no! he knows I am, already. But, Nan, I’ve an
idea. If I were only strong enough,—or if you were,—we could lift out
one of those fence rails, and stick it in the sand in front of that
deepest wheel, and get her out.”
“Patty, how clever you are! How do you know that?”
“Oh, I know it well enough. My general gumption tells me it. But,—we’re
neither of us strong enough to boost it out of the fence and under the
wheel in the right way.”
“But we might do it together.”
“We might try. Come on, Nan, let’s make the effort. Bother that old cow,
anyway! But for her, we’d be almost home now.”
They got out of the car, and, with plucky effort, tried to dislodge a
fence rail. But it was a fairly new and a well-made fence, and the rails
would not come out easily. They tried one after another, but with no
success.
“Well, Nan, here’s my only solution to this perplexing situation. We
can’t sit here and let father lose his mind worrying about it, and
thinking we’re ground under our own chariot wheels. So one of us must
stay here with the car, and the other walk home and tell him about it.”
“Walk home! Why, Patty, it must be five miles!”
“I daresay it is, and I’d just as lieve walk it, but I hate to leave you
here alone. So you can take your choice, and I’ll take the other.”
“But, Patty, that’s absurd! Why not let one of us walk to some nearby
house and ask for help?”
“Capital idea, but where’s the nearby house? There’s none in sight.”
“No, but there must be one nearer than home.”
“Yes; and, when you go trailing off to look for it, you’ll get lost.
Better go straight home, Nan.”
“And leave you here alone? I won’t do it!”
“Then there seems to be a deadlock. Oh, hey! Hi! Mister!! I say!
Whoo-oo-ee!”
Nan turned, frightened at Patty’s hullabaloo, to see a man just
disappearing round a fork in the road. He had not seen them, and, unless
Patty’s quick eyes had spied him, and her sudden call had reached his
ears, he would have been gone in a moment. As it was, he turned, stared
at them, and then came slowly over to them. He was a rough, but not
unkindly-looking fellow, probably a farm labourer, and apparently a
foreigner. He spoke no English, but Patty made him understand by
gestures what she wanted him to do. A look of admiration came into his
stolid eyes, at the idea of Patty knowing enough to use the fence rail,
and his powerful strength soon removed a rail, and placed it endwise
under the wheel of the captive car. Another was placed under the other
hind wheel, and, after much endeavour and slipping and coaxing, the car
was once again freed from the sand, and stood proudly on the hard road.
Patty thanked the man prettily, and, though he couldn’t understand a
word, he understood her grateful smiles. More clearly, perhaps, he
understood a banknote, which she drew from her purse and gave him, and,
with a grateful, if uncouth bow of his awkward head, he trudged away.
Patty started her car, and soon, at a good rate of speed, they were
flying along in the gathering dusk.