THE PICNIC
It was a perfect morning. Blue sky, with pure little snow-drop clouds,
as if the angels had dropped them from their baskets as they tended the
flowers in the heavenly gardens. The lake sparkled and glistened in the
sunshine, and every wave seemed to leap joyously as it broke in soft
foam on the shore. In one end of the _Flyaway_ sat Phil, on a pile of
shawls; in the other were stowed a large basket, a pail of ice, and a
pail of milk, and in between were Miss Rachel, Lisa, Joe, and Graham.
Phil had twisted up a little nosegay for each, and had pinned a broad
wreath of grape-leaves around Joe's straw hat, making the old fellow
laugh at his nonsense. They were just pushing off, when a sudden
rattling of chain and some impatient barks from Nep showed that he began
to feel neglected.
"I thought we could get away unnoticed," said Miss Rachel, "but I find
myself mistaken."
The boys pleaded for Nep. "Ah, let him come, please let him come."
Nep's leaps becoming frantic, Miss Rachel yielded, and Graham soon had
him loosened. He jumped at once into the boat, and crept under Phil's
feet, making a nice warm mat.
"Poor Nep," said Phil, patting him, "he felt neglected"; and the big
tail wagged thankful thumps against the boat.
The morning air was sweet with all manner of herbage yet fresh from the
morning dew. The trees were in their most brilliant green, and every
leaf seemed newly washed.
Graham began a boating song, and Miss Schuyler joined in the chorus. Old
Joe chuckled and grinned; even quiet Lisa hummed a little as the song
rose louder; and Phil, dipping his hands in the clear water, imagined
that the fishes were frisking a waltz in their honor. They glided past
Point of Rocks, past huge beds of water-lilies, past lovely little coves
and inlets, and spots where Graham said there was excellent fishing;
finally Eagle Island became more distinct, and its pine-trees began to
look imposing.
"Here we are!" said Graham at last, bringing the _Flyaway_ up nicely on
a pebbly beach, in good boating style.
Graham and Joe made a chair with their hands and arms, and so carried
Phil very comfortably to the place under the trees which Miss Rachel had
chosen for their encampment.
"Now," said Miss Rachel, as she brought out Phil's portfolio, a book,
her own embroidery, and Lisa's sewing, "I propose that Graham, being a
more active member of society than we are, go off with Joe and catch
some fish for our dinner."
"Just the thing!" said Graham; "but I did not bring a line."
"Joe has everything necessary--bait and all," said Miss Schuyler.
"Now," said Miss Rachel, when the fishermen had gone, seeing Phil's
longing look, and knowing well how much he would have liked to go with
them, "we must go to work too, so that we may enjoy our play all the
more afterwards. I could not let you go with Graham, my dear Phil; it
would have fatigued you too much; but I want you to try and draw me that
drooping bush on the edge of the water, and while you draw I will read
aloud for a while."
Miss Schuyler read, explained, talked to Phil about his drawing, and
gave him the names of the trees about him.
The time flew fast, and it seemed a very little while when Miss Schuyler
said to Lisa, "I think I hear oars; we had better be getting our feast
ready."
They brought out the basket and pails, spread a nice red dessert cloth
down on a smooth patch of grass, laid broad green leaves down for the
rolls and biscuits; golden balls of butter were in a silver dish of
their own, and so were the berries in a willow basket, around which they
put a few late wild-flowers.
"Now we want a good flat stone for our fireplace, and--Ah! here come
our fishermen just in time."
Graham and Joe now appeared with a few perch, but plenty of catfish.
They went to work with zeal, and soon had enough brush for the fire,
which they built at a good distance. And while Graham fed it, Joe
skinned his catfish, salted the perch, and laid them on the stone.
Then they all sat around their grassy table, and Joe served them in fine
style, bringing them their fish smoking hot on white napkins.
How merry they were over the good things, and how eager Graham was to
cook fish for Joe, and serve the old fellow as nicely as he had done all
of them! And Phil cut the very largest slice of cake for Joe.
"It is just the jolliest picnic I ever was at," said Graham, helping to
wash and clear away, and re-stow spoons and forks.
"Of course it is," said Phil. "There never can be another quite so nice:
it is my first one, you know."
"Yes; just think of it, and it's my fiftieth, I suppose; but then you
must not think all picnics like this. It is something really remarkable
to have everything go off so smoothly. Why, sometimes all the crockery
gets smashed, or the fire won't burn, or if it does, you get the smoke
in your eyes, or your potatoes get burned, and your lemonade gets in
your milk, or somebody puts your ice in the sun, and, to crown it all,
down comes a shower."
"Dear, dear, what a chapter of accidents, Graham!"
"Are you listening, Miss Rachel?" said Graham, with a quizzical look. "I
was only letting Phil know how much better you manage than most people."
"Well, when you and Phil are ready, I want to tell you about something
else I should like to manage. Come, put away all the books and work, and
listen to my preaching."
Miss Rachel sat on a fallen tree, leaning against some young birches.
"Phil was asking me, yesterday," said she, "what becomes of all the poor
sick children in the city, and he seemed to think he ought in some way
to help them; so I promised to think about what he had been
considering, and a little plan came into my head in which I thought you
could help us, Graham."
Graham looked up with a pleased face, and nodded.
"It is just this. In the city hospitals are many sick children who have
to stay in bed almost all the time. Now Phil and I want to do the little
that we can for them, and it seems to me it would be nice to send fresh
flowers and fruit--all that we can spare from our gardens--once or twice
a week to some of these sick city children. What do you think, boys?"
"It would be lovely, Miss Schuyler," said Phil, "only I do not see how
_we_ could help; it would all come from you."
"Not all, dear child. I mean to give you both a share of the work--you
in your way, and Graham in his. Are you interested? Shall I go on and
tell you?"
"Yes, indeed," both exclaimed.
"I propose that we set aside a certain part of our flower-garden and our
fruit-trees, you and I, Graham (for I know you have a garden of your
own), which we will call our 'hospital fruits and flowers,' and Phil is
to assist in making up boquets, hulling berries, and packing to send
away; besides that, he is to make some little pictures, just little bits
of sketches of anything that he fancies--a spray of buds, a single
pansy, Joe's old hat and good-natured face beneath, a fish, or a bit of
vine-covered fence--and we will sell them for him, and the money shall
help pay the express charges upon our gifts to the sick children, so
that Phil will really be doing more than any of us. How do you like my
plan?"
The boys were pleased, and had begun to say so, when a shout came from
the other part of the island from Joe, and Nep set up a violent barking.
"Hi! look up dar, Miss Schuyler!" called out Joe.
"Quick, Phil!" said Graham; "look! there's an eagle. How fortunate we
are! There he goes, sailing away in all his glory"; and sure enough, the
great bird floated farther and farther up in the blue sky.
Still Nep kept on barking, and Graham ran down to see what was the
matter. He came back with something dangling from his hand, Joe and Nep
following.
[Illustration: "LOOK! THERE'S AN EAGLE"]
"A black snake--oh, what a dreadful creature!" exclaimed Lisa.
"Yes, indeed, ma'am," said Joe; "and if Nep hadn't barked so, the
drefful cretur would have bitten me sure. That dog knows a heap; you'd
better allus take him with you in the woods, Miss Rachel. I was lyin'
off sound asleep, with this critter close beside me, when Nep come up,
and barked just as plain as speakin'. 'Take care,' says he, 'ole Joe,
you're in danger,' an' with that I woke in a hurry, an' jist then I saw
that big eagle come soarin' overhead, and then Marsa Graham come and
give that snake his death-blow."
"How did you do it, Graham?" asked Phil, excitedly.
"Oh, I pounded him on the head with a stone as he was making off. He is
a pretty big fellow, and he must have swum from the main-land, Miss
Schuyler."
"Yes, I never saw a snake on this island before."
"Come here, Nep," said Phil, "dear old fellow; good dog for taking care
of Joe. Your head shall be my first picture for our sick children."