AN EXCITING RACE
Eleanor and Miss "Jenny Ann," as the girls seemed inclined to call
their chaperon, had not remained on the houseboat merely to polish the
pots and pans. They had a special surprise and plan of their own on
hand.
It was all very well for Phyllis to dream of a houseboat, with its
decks lined with flowers, and for Madge to draw a beautiful plan of it
on paper. Flowers do not grow except where they are planted.
So it was in order to turn gardeners that Eleanor and Miss Jones stayed
at home. Flowers enough to encircle the deck of a houseboat would cost
almost as much money as the four girls had in their treasury to keep
them supplied with food and coal. But the gently sloping Maryland
fields were abloom with daisies. A farmer's lad could be hired for a
dollar to dig up the daisies and to bring a wagon load of dirt to the
boat. The day before Eleanor had engaged the services of a carpenter
to make four boxes, which exactly fitted the sides of the little upper
deck of the houseboat above the cabin. An hour or so after the girls
departed on their rowing excursion the daisies were brought aboard,
planted, and held up their heads bravely. They were such sturdy, hardy
little flowers that they did not wither with homesickness at the change
in their environment.
But still Eleanor was not entirely satisfied. In Phil's dream and
Madge's picture of the boat vines had drooped gracefully over the sides
of the deck, and Eleanor had no vines to plant. Eleanor had a natural
gift for making things about her lovely and homelike. So she thought
and thought. Wild honeysuckle vines were growing in the fields with
the daisies. They were just the things to clamber over the white
railing of the deck and to hang gracefully over the sides. Their
perfume would fill the little floating dwelling with their fragrance.
By noon the transformation was complete. Eleanor persuaded Miss Jones
to go for a walk while she got the luncheon. Madge, Phil and Lillian
had solemnly promised to be at home by one o'clock. Another surprise
was in store for them. In the bow of their boat Eleanor had hung up a
flag. On a background of white broadcloth, stitched in bands of blue,
was the legend "Merry Maid." This was Eleanor Butler's chosen name for
the houseboat, and had been voted the best possible selection, while
Madge had been unanimously voted captain of their little ship. Eleanor
had sent to the town for the flag, and even their chaperon was not to
know of its arrival.
One would hardly have known Miss Jenny Ann Jones--a week in the fresh
air had done her so much good. Then, too, Phil and Lillian had
persuaded her to cease to wear her heavy, light hair in an English bun
at the back of her neck. Lillian had plaited it in two great braids
and had coiled it around her head like a dull golden coronet. She had
a faint color in her cheeks, and, instead of looking cross and tired,
she was as merry and almost as light-hearted as the girls. The lines
of her head were really beautiful, and her sallow skin was fast
becoming clear and healthy. For once in her life Miss Jones looked no
older than her twenty-six years. Eleanor watched her as she started
off on her walk dressed in white, carrying a red parasol, and decided
that Miss Jones was really pretty. Since her advent among the girls
she had begun to look at life from a different standpoint. She had
almost ceased worrying and she meant to grow well and strong if she
could. Since her mysterious visitor the first night she spent aboard
the boat nothing had happened to disturb her. She walked slowly on, so
occupied with her own thoughts she did not notice that she was in a
lane between two fields enclosed by fences. Some one called to her.
She could not distinguish the voice. It called and called again. She
thought it must be one of the girls who had come out in the field to
meet her. As there was no one looking, Miss Jones managed to climb
over the rail fence, and now she walked in the direction from which the
sound of the voice came. After a time the voice ceased. It was a
shorter stroll to the boat across this field, so the teacher went
leisurely on. In a far corner of the meadow she saw an odd object
unlike anything she had ever seen. It consisted of two sticks that
looked like the legs of a scarecrow which had a square board fastened
in front of them. From between the sticks were two other brown
objects, long and thin, and behind it sat a young man busily engaged in
transferring the peaceful scene to canvas. Miss Jones was gazing
curiously at this object, with her red parasol hung over her shoulder,
so that it was impossible for her to see anything behind her. But she
did hear an unusual noise--a snort, then a bellow--the sound was
unmistakable. With a sense of sickening terror she gave one horrified
glance behind her. She had been mysteriously lured into a field where
a bull was loose. It never occurred to Miss Jones to throw away her
red parasol. She ran on, waving it wildly over her shoulders,
maddening the enraged animal behind her. Miss Jones did not believe
she could run fast. Usually her breath was short, and even a rapid
walk fatigued her. Now she ran on and on. Once again she half heard a
mocking voice cry after her, but she paid no attention to it. In her
fright she was also oblivious to the fact that the strange object in
the corner of the field fell to the ground with a bang, while a man
sitting on a stool behind it rose to right his overturned canvas.
"Drop it, drop it!" he shouted, running after Miss Jones and repeatedly
urging her to throw away her bright red parasol.
Madge, Phil and Lillian had come back to the boat. After dancing in a
circle around Eleanor to express the rapture they felt in the
transformation she had wrought in their beloved houseboat, they stood
together on the deck, looking for the return of their chaperon along
the shore.
Miss Jones thought there was a gate at the end of the field in which
she was running. She made for this gate, as she knew she would not
have time to get over the fence before the animal would be upon her.
In her terror she had but one idea, one hope, that was to reach the
safety of the gang-plank and to climb aboard the houseboat.
While Miss Jones was running for her life the four chums were lingering
about the deck of the "Merry Maid" watching for her return. They
decided to take a short walk with the idea of meeting her and, leaving
their boat to take care of itself, strolled through the lane that led
to the very field Miss Jones had entered. All at once Lillian called
out in terror:
"O girls! look! It's Miss Jones, and a bull is chasing her!"
The four chums stood rooted to the spot. What could they do? They
felt powerless to help, yet not one of the girls believed Miss Jones
could save herself.
Madge was the first to act. In her hand was a large white and green
striped umbrella. The girls had lately bought two of them to use out
on deck as a protection from the sun, and Madge had caught up one of
them as they started out. In the next instant she had climbed the
fence that separated her from the field in which the teacher was
running and was making for the frightened woman at the top of her speed.
But by this time Miss Jones was completely exhausted. Summoning all
her will power, she staggered a few steps, then dropped to the ground,
with the bull not more than four yards behind her.
On it came, its head lowered almost to the ground. Then a huge green
and white monster loomed up before the animal, and with a snort of
mingled rage and horror the bull stopped short in its tracks. The
strange green and white object now lunging at full tilt was far more
terrible than the small, red, flame-like object that fled its approach.
Rage conquering fear, the bull gave a dreadful roar and made a quick
lunge at Madge. She sprang to one side but managed to thrust her
umbrella full in the animal's face. With a rumble of defiance the bull
dodged the umbrella and made another lunge at Madge. Its lowered horns
never reached her. A rope swung skilfully forward caught the animal by
the leg just in time. One swift pull and the bull went down. The
owner of the animal had witnessed its charge upon Miss Jones and,
rushing across the field, had roped it. The artist who had attracted
Miss Jenny Ann's attention had also come to the rescue, but it was
really Madge with her green and white umbrella who had saved their
chaperon from the bull's horns.
Miss Jones, who had raised herself to a sitting position, stared wildly
about her, still firmly clutching the red parasol.
The artist sprang to her side and raised her to her feet. "It was this
that made the mischief," he said, touching her parasol. "I shouted to
you to drop it."
"But I didn't hear you," defended the teacher faintly. Her two long
braids of fair hair had become unfastened and were now hanging down her
back, giving her the appearance of a girl. "I heard some one calling
to me, or I would never have entered that dreadful field." Miss Jones
eyed the artist reproachfully. "Was it you who shouted my name?"
"Was it I?" repeated the young man in astonishment. "Certainly not. I
do not know your name."
"My name is 'Jones,'" Miss Jenny Ann faltered weakly. She was still
feeling dazed and weak.
"And my name is 'Brown,'" the artist answered, with an expression of
solemn gravity. But the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.
There was a faint chuckle from Madge that went the round of the group
and, despite the fact that the chaperon's narrow escape had been far
from ludicrous, the whole party burst into laughter.
"I am sorry," apologized the artist. "Please forgive me for laughing."
The farmer had in the meantime led the bull away, and now Eleanor and
Lillian came running toward the group to see if Miss Jenny Ann were
truly hurt. When they saw the whole party shaking with laughter, the
two girls exchanged curious glances. "Luncheon has been waiting half
an hour," Eleanor declared rather crossly. "Do come and eat it. We
would not have come after you if we had known that you were having such
a good time."
Madge glanced at their chaperon, then at the artist. He was evidently
a gentleman, and she recognized that he was possessed of a keen sense
of humor. It would seem rude and ungrateful to run away and leave him
just as their luncheon was announced, when he had raced all the way
across the meadow to assist in the rescue of their Miss Jenny Ann.
"Won't you come and eat luncheon with us?" asked Madge boldly, fearing
their chaperon would be dreadfully shocked.
The artist shook his head. "I'd like to accept your invitation if Miss
Jones will second it," he replied, looking at Miss Jenny Ann.
"You would he delighted to have Mr. Brown take luncheon with us, Miss
Jenny Ann, wouldn't you?" Madge turned coaxing eyes upon their teacher.
"I should be very ungracious if I were not," laughed their chaperon,
the color rising to her brown cheeks. "Mr. Brown will be a welcome
guest."
And five minutes later Mr. Brown was triumphantly escorted aboard their
beloved "Merry Maid."