[Illustration: AT THE PARTY.]
EUNICE AND CRICKET
BY
ELIZABETH WESTYN TIMLOW
AUTHOR OF
“CRICKET: A STORY FOR LITTLE GIRLS,” “CRICKET AT THE SEASHORE”
=Illustrated by=
HARRIET R. RICHARDS
BOSTON
ESTES AND LAURIAT
PUBLISHERS
_Copyright, 1897_
BY ESTES & LAURIAT
=Colonial Press:=
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
TO
ELMA AND SYLVIA
AND
THE GOAT
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. TWO AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHERS 11
II. A DISCOVERY IN FILMS 25
III. A “MUMPFUL” PARTY 37
IV. IN QUARANTINE 59
V. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 68
VI. A PHILANTHROPIC SCHEME 83
VII. MOSINA 99
VIII. A BEDFELLOW 110
IX. CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS 120
X. THE BOY 139
XI. A VISIT TO MOSINA 152
XII. KEEPING HOUSE 165
XIII. THE DIAMOND RING 187
XIV. SCHOOL THEATRICALS 211
XV. A DAY IN THE NURSERY 234
XVI. A GOAT EPISODE 253
XVII. A SCRAPE 268
XVIII. AN EXPEDITION 279
XIX. THE RESULT 292
XX. OLD MR. CHESTER 299
XXI. BREAKING UP 307
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
AT THE PARTY _Frontispiece_
GETTING READY FOR THE PARTY 49
AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR 79
THE LOST BABY 85
KEEPING HOUSE 173
THE DIAMOND RING 191
IN THE NURSERY 239
A SUDDEN DOWNFALL 259
EUNICE AND CRICKET
CHAPTER I.
TWO AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHERS.
Two eager heads bent over a small, square, black object that stood on
the stone post at the foot of the doorsteps.
“‘Hold the camera steady and push the lever,’” read the brown-eyed girl
with the long, dark braid, from the little pamphlet she held in her
hand. “Look down in the little round hole, Cricket; you can see the
picture perfectly. Isn’t it the _cutest_ thing?”
Cricket squinted down critically.
“It’s going to be perfectly _jolly_,” she cried enthusiastically. “Now
stand still as mice, children, while I count three.”
“Stand still as a mice, Helen,” immediately admonished the small girl in
the dark red coat, giving a great pinch to the little golden-haired,
brown-clad lassie who stood beside her, by way of emphasising her older
sister’s words. “Stand still as a mice, Johnnie-goat,” giving the third
member of the group a tickle on the back that made him drop his curved
horns for more.
“Keep still ‘as a mice,’ yourself,” said Cricket, tapping Miss Red-coat
briskly on the head. “All ready, Eunice. ‘You push the button, and we’ll
do the rest,’” she quoted, clapping her hands in her favourite fashion.
“Hooray! there she goes! Oh, I hope it will be good! That’s all, Zaidie
and Helen. You stood _beautifully_. Run along now. Can’t you go around
to the stable and take Johnnie-goat back, ’Liza?”
Eunice swept the trio a low bow.
“Thank you, Mr. Johnnie-goat, for standing still so long,” she said,
addressing the horned member of the party. “I hope your picture will be
_very_ good,” she added, picking up the camera with a highly
professional air.
“Take me again,” demanded Zaidie instantly, when Cricket told her once
more that they were through with this wonderful process, and that they
might go. “I like having my picture tooken. Don’t you, Helen? Let’s sit
on Johnnie-goat, and be tooken again,” and Zaidie tried to climb upon
the goat’s white back. This, however, was a familiarity which Johnnie
could not think of permitting, even from his best friends. He instantly
sidled off, not wishing to hurt her feelings by a direct butt. Zaidie
unexpectedly sat down on the ground.
“No, we don’t want any more pictures of you now, thank you,” said
Eunice, examining her Kodak, while Zaidie demanded a view of the one
already taken.
“She thinks it’s like putting a penny in the slot and a picture drops
out. This isn’t that kind, my dear. There’s a lot of hard, hard work
before you see that picture,” said Cricket importantly.
The day before had been Eunice’s birthday, and this Kodak, which had
been a long-desired possession, was a birthday present. As it was given
to them entirely ready for use, they had literally nothing to do but
“press the button.”
Papa had been too busy that morning to explain the mysterious little
affair very particularly, but he told the children to study the pamphlet
carefully, and follow directions closely. Eunice and Cricket promptly
sat down and read the pamphlet from title-page to _finis_.
Both looked a little blank when they had finished. _Could_ they ever
remember all those instructions?
“It’s all _plain_ enough,” said Eunice meditatively, “but the question
is, how are we going to remember it all at important times? Now, for
instance, about the stops. Listen: ‘Snapshots can only be made when the
largest stop is in the lens.’ Will you remember that, Cricket?”
“We might just sit down and learn the whole thing off by heart,”
suggested Cricket, wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully.
“Horrors, no!” returned Eunice. “Learn all that? Let’s just carry the
pamphlet around with us all the time. If we take the camera anywhere, we
can certainly take the book, too. Now let’s go and take a picture.”
“It’s easier to take them out doors, everybody says,” answered Cricket,
jumping up. “There’s ’Liza starting out to walk with the twins. Let’s go
and take them sitting on the front doorsteps.”
The twins, of course, were perfectly delighted at the idea of having
their pictures taken. Zaidie straightway sat herself down on the lowest
step, with her hands firmly folded in her lap, and her feet out straight
before her, trying vainly to keep the smile out of her dimpled face.
“I don’t want you that way,” said Eunice, laughing, as she turned
around. “You must get in some romantic attitude. No, I don’t mean
romantic, but picturesque.”
“Couldn’t I be sliding down the railing?” suggested Zaidie eagerly,
thinking she saw a chance to indulge in her favourite amusement.
“Wouldn’t that be pick-chesk?”
“You can’t slide down no railings, pick-chesk or no pick-chesk,” put in
Eliza, promptly.
“You couldn’t, anyway,” said Cricket, “because you have to sit still,
Zaidie. You can’t hop around when you have your picture taken. Don’t you
remember?”
“Zaidie, you stand up by the post,” began Eunice, when Cricket
interrupted her.
“Look! There’s Johnnie-goat trotting up the street. Do let’s have him
in. He _would_ be picturesque.”
“S’pose he’d stand still?” asked Eunice doubtfully. “I don’t want to
spoil my picture.”
Johnnie-goat was a very celebrated character in the neighbourhood. He
belonged to a livery-stable that was on the square back of the Wards. He
was famous for eating off his rope and running away. He was a big white
goat, with unusually long horns, and a very inquiring disposition. He
was such a ridiculous fellow, too, sometimes munching sedately at a
stray banana-skin or orange-peel, then kicking up his heels as if an
invisible imp had tickled him, and walking off on his forefeet. He was a
very discerning goat, also, and knew perfectly well his friends from his
enemies. He had goodwill for the one, and butts for the other. One way
that he knew his friends was that they always wore dresses, while his
enemies were clad in trousers. That was one invariable mark. Then, his
friends gave him apples to eat, and scratched the sensitive place
between his horns that he couldn’t possibly reach himself, and which,
therefore, was seldom properly scratched. His enemies usually saluted
him with stones, and offered him tin cans to eat. Now Johnnie-goat was
perfectly willing to acknowledge that he _could_ eat tin cans on
occasions, but they were not his favourite diet, and he didn’t care much
for them. He regarded it as something of an insult to be constantly
offered them. It was one thing, if he chose occasionally to pick one up
himself and see if he liked the brand, but he decidedly objected to
having them so often forced on his attention.
The result of all this was, that Johnnie-goat’s disposition was somewhat
mixed. Like some people whom we have known, when he was good he was
_very_ good indeed, but when he was bad he was simply terrific. He
seemed to know no middle course.
I do not know why he was not called Billy, in accordance with all
traditions. His full title was John O’Rafferty, Esq., and on many
occasions he got the whole benefit of it.
He was great friends with all the Ward children, who, from having so
many pets of their own at Kayuna, had a special predilection for any
stray animal. Johnnie-goat perfectly understood this fact—for any one
who thinks that a goat is not a highly discriminating creature, is not
acquainted with his peculiarities.
On this particular morning, Johnnie-goat was quite willing to be treated
to some banana-skins, which the cook brought out to tempt him with. He
fully realised that it was a very solemn occasion, for he stood like a
sentinel, and only blinked once.
“We must take all sorts of things, Cricket,” said Eunice, when the
children had trooped away down the street, with Johnnie-goat marching
sedately behind them, with now and then a sudden frisk of his hind legs
in the air, and then such an instant return of his composure, that you
doubted the evidence of your eyes.
“There are only a dozen pictures on one roll, you know, and we want a
good variety. Aren’t you just wild to develop them? I am. It sounds so
grown-up to talk of the chemicals and the ‘hypo.’”
“What _is_ the ‘hypo?’” asked Cricket, as they went down the street in
search of a good subject.
“Why, just hypo, I suppose. I don’t believe it’s anything in
particular,” said Eunice vaguely.
“Donald said Marjorie had the hypo yesterday,” said Cricket
thoughtfully, “when she was sort of dumpy all day. But I suppose it
isn’t the same kind.”
“No, of _course_ not, goosie. The hypo is that white powder that comes
with all the things. Didn’t you notice it? Perhaps Donald meant that
Marjorie had been taking some. Oh, look! wouldn’t that corner of the
little park make the _sweetest_ picture? Let’s take it!”
“Yes, let’s! and that’s two,” added Cricket, when the picture was
secured. “_Isn’t_ this exciting? Can’t I take the next one, Eunice? Just
let me look at the pamphlet a moment to see something.”
Cricket buried herself in the book of instructions for a moment, then
darted tragically at the camera.
“Oh, _Eunice_! See! the pamphlet says that after you take a picture, you
must turn the key around three or four times, till the next number
appears before the little window, and that will put a new film ready;
and we never did it! What do you s’pose it will be?”
The two girls stared at each other in dismay.
“Oh, dear! dear!” exclaimed Eunice. “Then we’ve taken another picture
right on top of Johnnie-goat and the twins, and they _were_ so cunning!”
“There isn’t any way to _un_take it, is there?” asked Cricket, in real
Mrs. Peterkin fashion.
“I’m afraid not. I wonder what it _will_ look like! It will be a
composite photograph, I suppose, like Marjorie’s class picture.”
“Perhaps it won’t be bad,” said Cricket, the hopeful. “You see, this
last picture is trees and shrubbery, and there may be a glimpse of
Johnnie-goat and the twins behind them. It may look as if we did it on
purpose. I shouldn’t wonder if it would be lovely. Perhaps we’ll want to
take more that way.”
“Perhaps,” assented Eunice, doubtfully. “It makes me think of Kenneth
this morning. I was in mamma’s room while you were practising, and
Kenneth was there too. He brought a piece of paper to mamma and asked
her to draw a man, and she drew the side face of one—and Kenneth asked
her where the other side of his face was, and if it was on the other
side of the paper. Mamma told him the other side of the face was there,
but he couldn’t see it; and then she turned him _her_ side face to show
him. Well, Kenneth took the paper and ran off, but came back in a moment
with some straight lines across it, and told mamma that that was a kitty
and a fence, and mamma said she saw the fence, but where was the kitten?
And _what_ do you think the baby said?—that the kitten was behind the
fence! That it was really there, only she couldn’t see it. _Wasn’t_ that
cute?”
“He’s just the dearest, smartest baby that ever was!” cried Cricket,
always enthusiastical over her beloved small brother. “We’ll just tell
people, then, that the children are behind the trees, even if they can’t
see them. There, now, I’ve turned the film ready, this time. See!
there’s the figure 2 in the little window at the back. Now, we are all
ready. What shall we take?”
“Let’s take each other,” suggested Eunice. “I’ll stand here by the park
fence. Am I all right?”
The picture-taking went on merrily after that. They got a fine snap at
papa just getting out of his buggy, and one of mamma, as she came home
from market. They got another dear little picture of the twins as they
came down the street hand in hand. It did not take long to use up all
the films at this rate, and at luncheon they were able to announce,
triumphantly, that they were ready to develop their pictures that
afternoon.
“But you don’t know how,” objected papa; “and I have to be out all the
afternoon and can’t help you.”
“Please let us try it by ourselves,” pleaded Eunice. “We can read the
directions, and they’re _terribly_ plain. A cat could use them. Do let
us!”
“Better not do it alone, youngsters,” advised Donald. “I’d show you,
myself, if I were going to be home, but I can’t wait.”
Donald was in college this year, but, being so near, he often came home
to lunch on Saturday, and sometimes spent Sunday there also.
“Of course we can do it,” returned Cricket, confidently. “We’ve read the
directions a million times already, and I pretty nearly know them by
heart. Listen: ‘Open one of the developer powders, then put the contents
(two chemicals) into the beaker and fill it up to the brim with water.
Stir, till dissolved, with wooden stirring spoon. Next take—’”
“Spare us,” begged Marjorie. “We’re willing to take your knowledge for
granted.”
“We can use the linen closet for a dark room,” said Eunice.
“By no manner of means,” put in mamma promptly. “I don’t fancy having
every sheet and pillow-case I own deluged with chemicals. You can have
the bathroom closet, though, if you’ll promise to put everything you
take out of it back very carefully. But children, I decidedly think you
should wait for papa or Don to show you how.”
“Do let them, mamma,” advised Marjorie. “Of course they will make a
frightful mess, and ruin the whole roll, but they will have the
experience.”
“The idea!” cried Eunice, much injured. “We’ve done everything right
thus far—or almost right,” with a sudden, guilty recollection of the
double exposure of the first film.
“_Almost_ everything!” laughed Donald. “Considering you only have to aim
the thing and press the button, it would be strange if you hadn’t. Did
you aim the wrong end of it and try to take something out of the little
back window?”
“Of course we didn’t,” said Eunice and Cricket, in an indignant breath.
Then they exchanged guilty, conscious glances.
“We’ll promise about the closet,” said Eunice hastily, to prevent
further inconvenient questions. “We’ll take the things out carefully;
and may we take the little nursery table to lay our trays on? It’s just
large enough to fit.”
These matters being settled, the two girls, as soon as luncheon was
over, eagerly began their preparations. They had a free field, for mamma
and Marjorie had gone to a matinée, and Eliza had taken the children to
the park for the afternoon. The housemaid’s closet in the bathroom was
soon cleared of its brooms and dustpans, and the small, low table from
the nursery was brought in. The little trays that came with the outfit,
the bottles of chemicals and “hypo” were duly arranged on it.
“There!” said Eunice, surveying the preparations with a professional
eye. “Everything is ready, I _think_. Let me see,” consulting the
pamphlet. “‘Also provide a pair of shears, a pitcher of cold water, and
a dark room having a shelf or table’—yes, all here. Trays, stirring rod,
chemicals, and when we shut the door we have our dark room—why,
_Cricket_!” with a sudden exclamation of dismay.