"SLEEPY."
[Illustration: A tousled head emerged and then a hot, fat, red
face.--_Page 19_]
The mass of bed clothes and sweaters and shoes went through a great
upheaval, and an arm, encased in a striped pajama sleeve, was thrust
forth. We did what girls always do, we screamed and then we giggled.
"Gee, it's hot!" came in muffled tones. "It's hard enough to be waked
before daybreak but you fellows might at least wake me like gentlemen
and not pull me out of bed, keeping up such an infernal cackling, too,
sounding like a lot of fool girls."
Of course, the thing to do was to get out of the room, or rather off the
porch, as fast as we could, but, as Dee and I were at the foot of the
bed and the floor space was occupied by the squirming mass, we had no
chance to make a graceful exit.
"Jump!" came in a sibilant whisper from Dum, and we got ready for a
feat not very difficult for two girls as athletic as we were; but a fit
of giggles attacked us and we were powerless to do anything but cling to
each other in limp helplessness.
"I'm afraid we would step on it," I managed to squeak out through my
convulsions.
"I just dare you to!" spluttered the owner of the arm, and a tousled
head emerged and then a hot, fat, red face. It was a rather good-looking
face in spite of the fact that it was swollen with sleep and crimson
with heat and distorted with rage at having been "awakened before dawn."
I never expect again in all my life to see anything half so ludicrous as
that boy's expression when it dawned on him that the rude awakening was
not the work of his erstwhile companions, but of a lot of "fool girls."
His eyes, half shut with sleep and blinking with the glare of unexpected
daylight, were blinded for a moment, but as Dee and I still clung to
each other and giggled, the youth's eyes began to widen and the mouth,
sullen from heavy slumber, formed itself into a panic-stricken O. His
face had seemed as red as a face could get, but, no! It took on several
shades more of crimson until it was really painful to behold. He did the
wisest thing he could possibly have done under the circumstances: hid
his head and burrowed deep under the cover.
"Now, jump!" cried Dum; and jump we did, clearing the hurdle in great
shape, and then we raced down to Mrs. Rand to tell her of our ridiculous
predicament.
"Well, land's sake! Don't that beat all? And you was fixin' to gather
him up with the s'iled clothes! 'Twould 'a' served him right if'n you
had a-trunned him down the steps and let him take his chanct with the
la'ndry." And the old woman laughed until her Mrs. Wiggs knot came down
and she had to put down her scrubbing brush and twist it up. "I'm about
through here and I'll go up and 'ten' to him."
"Oh, Mrs. Rand, I am sure he is up by this time, and the poor fellow is
embarrassed enough. Don't say anything to him," begged Dee.
"I ain't so sho 'bout that. I spec it's the one they call 'Sleepy,' an'
if'n it is, he's mo'n apt to be gone back to bed," and she stalked like
a grenadier up the steps to rout out poor "Sleepy."
Two boys came up on the piazza as we turned from viewing the now
spotless kitchen, and, caps in hand, asked to see Mrs. Rand. They were
what that lady would have called a "likely pair." Both were dressed in
white flannels and had the unmistakable look of clean-living athletes.
Mrs. Rand's voice was heard from the balcony as she rapped sharply on
the dressing-room door:
"You, there! Git up! This ain't no tramps' hotel."
Then a growl came from the den as from a wounded, sore-headed bear.
"Sleepy!" gasped the boys, and they went off into roars of laughter in
which we perforce joined them. "Not up yet!"
Mrs. Rand, coming down the steps from her valiant attack on the back
sleeping porch, espied the laughing boys and renewed the offensive:
"Now what's bringing you here? This here cottage ain't yourn no longer.
If'n youse after that fat sleepy-head up thar you is welcome to him,
but what's the reason you didn't take him with you, I can't see."
"You see, Mrs. Rand, it's this way," said the taller of the two boys,
approaching Mrs. Rand with an engaging smile. "We did wake up Sleepy and
then piled all his clothes on top of him, thinking the weight and heat
of them would make it impossible for him to sleep longer. We had to go
get our tents pitched and provision our camp and we couldn't stay to see
that our scheme worked. We are mighty sorry if it has caused you any
trouble or annoyance."
"No trouble to me," and Mrs. Rand gave a snaggled-tooth smile at the
polite young man, "but it was some trouble for these young ladies; which
no doubt is the reason, these young ladies, I mean, that t'other young
fellow is so busy winking at me about, kinder specting me to hand out a
interduction. Well, as I'm what you might call chaperoon 'til their paw
comes, I'll favor you and make you acquainted;" which she did with stiff
formality. The tall boy was named James Hart, and the other one, the
winker, Stephen White, but he was never again to be known as Stephen,
or even Steve, for on and after that first day of July he was known as
"Wink." Boys are quick to give a nickname and slow to relinquish a joke
on one of their companions.
"Mrs. Rand," said Wink, (I'll begin now to call these boys by the names
we soon knew them by,) "we simply hate to be a nuisance to you and to
these young ladies but we can't provision our camp for the reason that
we have lost all our money. I was almost sure I had put the money in my
pocket, but now that I can't find it, I am hoping maybe I left it here
somewhere."
"No, you didn't, young man. Th' ain't no money loose 'round here," and
Mrs. Rand got ready for battle.
"Oh, the wallet!" we cried in chorus, and Dee rushed upstairs and came
down in a trice bearing the wallet, watch, old cap and shoes.
"My, what a relief!" sighed Wink. "I am supposed to be the careful
member of the crowd, so they intrusted me with all the funds, and this
is the way I behaved. Your watch, Jim! I fancy your great-grandfather
would turn in his grave if he knew how careless you were. And old Rags
left his cap and shoes! I am glad I wasn't the only forgetter."
"Well, I'm a-thinking, young men, that it's a good thing this here
cottage is owned by a respectable woman an' the July tenants is what
they is, or you'd be minus some prop'ty. That there Sleepy up there come
mighty near being bundled up in the s'iled linen an' sent to the
la'ndry, an' if'n these young ladies hadn't a-been what they is yo' camp
never would 'a' been provisioned. But now I must git to work an' clear
out that there upstairs," and Mrs. Rand betook herself to the regions
above.
"Please tell us about Sleepy," begged Jim Hart. "Did he get mixed up
with the laundry?" But the Tuckers and I felt that poor Sleepy had had
embarrassment enough and were mum as to our experience with him that
morning.
"Come on, Jim, let's go up and see him. Maybe he is too shy to come
out," and the two boys went up two steps at a time to rout out their
embarrassed friend.
The bird had flown. There was no trace of the poor fat boy. The clothes
which had filled the room were gone; the boy was gone; and only a hole
in the sand below gave silent witness to his manner of flight.
"Well, poor Sleepy, if he hasn't jumped off the porch and gone, bag and
baggage! He almost dug a well in the process of going. That was some
jump, I can tell you," and Jim and Wink came down in a broad grin.
"What is Sleepy's real name?" I asked.
"George Massie, a perfectly good name, and he is the best old fellow in
the world, especially when he is asleep, which he is on long stretches.
In fact, most of the time, except in football season, and then you bet
he is awake and up and doing. He is on the University Eleven and is sure
to be captain next year," answered Jim.
I was rather glad to hear of his prowess in football as it meant that
the poor, sleepy boy could take care of himself if his companions teased
him too much in their anxiety to hear what had occurred. A centre rush
on a college eleven does not have to submit to much teasing.
"We are certainly obliged to you ladies for your kindness in finding our
belongings, and when we get our camp in order we hope you will come to
see us. We understand there is to be quite a party of you," said Wink,
preparing to depart.
"Yes, besides Miss Cox, our chaperone, there are to be two more girls
with us for the whole month and our father is to bring down week-end
parties from Richmond. We are to have some boys for part of the time but
we can't stand them as steady things," blundered Dum.
"Well, come on, Jim, we don't want to get in bad the first thing. To
become popular with this young lady we must make ourselves scarce," and
they went gaily off, while we returned to assist Mrs. Rand until our
luggage arrived. When it came, we unpacked at once, and then were ready
for the lunch which we had brought with us from Richmond.
We had a busy afternoon visiting the little shops, laying in our
housekeeping supplies and interviewing the swarm of hucksters and fish
mongers that sprang up like magic the moment the word had gone forth
that a new tenant had arrived. Our cook was not to come until the next
day so we were very cautious in ordering, being well aware of our
limitations in the culinary art. Dum wanted to have baked, stuffed red
snapper the first night because Zebedee was so fond of it, but Dee and I
vetoed it and we got Spanish mackerel to broil instead.
"We simply live on fish at the beach. I hope you like it, Page," said
Dee, "because you fare pretty badly down here if you don't."
"Of course I do; and I am going to eat a lot of it so I can become fishy
and learn to swim. It is a terrible mortification to me that I can't
swim."
"Why, honey, Zebedee can teach you in one lesson, just so you are not
timid," and Dee put her arm around me. "There is certainly nothing to be
ashamed of. You could hardly have learned to swim in your grandfather's
hat-tub."