“WHAT in the world has become of that bugler?” queried Croly, peering
among the trees and shrubs.
“Were you wanting to speak to him, Mr. Croly?” asked Rosie, gravely but
with some difficulty restraining a desire to laugh.
“No, not particularly, but I have a slight curiosity to see him and ask
for another specimen or so of his skill.”
“He seems to be skilful in making his disappearance, doesn’t he?”
laughed Rosie.
“He does, and I suppose I shall have to give up the hope of making his
acquaintance,” returned Croly. “But it is really singular that no one
of us has been able to get sight of him.”
“It is indeed,” assented Mary Keith. “I have been watching closely, but
without obtaining so much as a glimpse of him.”
“Well, cousin, don’t despair; perhaps it will be better luck next
time,” Herbert said laughingly. “Ah, we are just in time, for I see
they are setting the tables beneath the trees.”
“Oh, that’s good,” cried Lulu. “I think it is such good fun to eat
out of doors.” Then aside to Mr. Lilburn, “O Cousin Ronald, can’t you
do some of those things you did at Cousin Betty’s wedding? It would be
such fun.”
“Wait and see, bit lassie,” the old gentleman returned with a smile.
Just then Walter came bounding to meet them. “I’m glad to see you,” he
said half breathlessly. “I’ve been hunting all around for you, because
tea is nearly ready and Zoe was afraid you might not be here in season.”
“Eh, laddie,” laughed his brother Herbert, “so you forgot, did you,
that we had appetites and watches?—the first to remind us of our need
of food, the second to tell us when it was likely to be served.”
“I thought it kinder to hunt you up than to trust to appetites and
watches to bring you in good season to get everything at its best,”
returned Walter good-humoredly.
Then stepping close to Mr. Lilburn’s side, he asked in an undertone,
“Cousin Ronald, please won’t you make some of the same kind of fun for
us that you did at Cousin Betty’s wedding?”
At that Mr. Lilburn laughed, saying: “Well, well, laddie, you and your
niece here (you’re Lulu’s uncle, aren’t you?) seem to be of one mind in
regard to that matter. We’ll see what can be done.”
“Walter’s niece!” laughed Lulu. “He’s younger than I am and would be a
little uncle for me.”
“So I would,” laughed Walter in turn, “but if your father is my brother
I suppose you must be my niece, and you’d better mind what I say to
you.”
“I will—when it suits me,” she replied in merry retort.
They were now nearing that part of the lawn where they had left the
older members of the party and the little ones.
“Ah, I am glad to see you,” said Zoe, coming forward to meet them, “for
it is nearly time for the summons to tea.”
“Yes; we hope we have not kept you waiting?” returned several voices.
“Oh, no,” she replied cheerily, “you are just in good season. I heard
your father inquiring where you were only a moment since, Lulu.”
“Oh, did you, Aunt Zoe? Well, I’ll tell him,” replied Lulu, hurrying
away in his direction, for she could see him seated under a tree at
some little distance, with Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, Grandma Elsie, Mamma
Vi, and several others. Lulu stole up behind him, put her arms round
his neck, and laid her cheek to his.
“Ah!” he said, taking hold of the small white hands, drawing her around
in front of him, and seating her on his knee, “where has this eldest
daughter of mine been for the last hour or so?”
“Down by the lake with the older ones, papa,” she replied, softly
stroking his beard with one hand and smiling archly into the eyes
gazing so fondly upon her. “I thought you were always willing that I
should go about the grounds here without asking special permission.”
“Yes, so I am, provided you do not go on the water without my knowledge
and consent.”
“I wanted to, but I didn’t,” was her reply. “You didn’t think I would,
papa, when you had forbidden me?”
“Certainly not, daughter. It would be a sad thing indeed if I could not
trust you out of my sight.”
Their conversation had been carried on in an undertone and the others
were not listening, but chatting among themselves.
In the mean while Cousin Ronald had drawn Zoe aside and held a moment’s
low-toned conversation with her, which seemed to interest and amuse
her. Then Edward joined them, Zoe seemed to repeat to him what the
old gentleman had said, Edward responded with a smile, then the three
separated, and the young host and hostess—the mother having resigned to
them her duties in that line for the evening—proceeded to seat their
guests at the tables, and servants appeared bearing the viands prepared
for their entertainment.
Mary Keith, Marian McAlpine, and Will Croly were all three at one and
the same table, Mr. Lilburn, Harold, Herbert, Rosie, and Evelyn Leland
sharing it with them. The last two and the brothers exchanged furtive
glances of amused expectancy. Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, Grandma Elsie,
Walter, and the Raymonds occupied the next two; the rest of the company
others not far distant.
Almost every one seemed in gay spirits and all were blessed with good
appetites, the satisfying of which kept them very busy for a time,
though not to the entire exclusion of mirthful chat and laughter.
But when the more substantial dishes had been duly discussed, carried
away, and replaced by cakes, fruits, and ices, in a moment of
comparative silence there came a sudden sound as of flapping of wings
overhead, followed by a shrill call—
“Lu-lu! Polly wants a cake. It’s supper-time and Polly hungry.”
“Why, Polly, how did you get out and fly all the way here?” cried Lulu
in astonishment, and looking up, as did almost every one else, among
the branches overhead. “I didn’t think you knew the way; and there is
plenty for you to eat at home.”
“Lu-lu! where are you? Polly’s hungry. Polly wants a cup of coffee,”
came in return in what seemed evidently Polly’s own shrill tones.
“Go home and get it, then,” laughed Lulu. “You weren’t invited here,
and well-behaved people always wait to be asked before they go
visiting.”
“Polly’s hungry. Poor old Polly—poor old soul!” came in response.
“Why, where is she?” queried Grace, peering up among the branches of
the tree from which the sound seemed to come.
“I don’t know,” said Lulu. “I can’t just see her, but she has a good
hiding-place up there where the branches and leaves are so thick. But
how she found her way here I can’t think. Oh!” as she suddenly caught
sight of Mr. Lilburn’s face and noted the twinkle of fun in his eye.
“Perhaps you have given her too much liberty, Lulu,” her father said in
so grave a tone she was at loss to decide whether or not his suspicions
too had been aroused.
“So you have a poll-parrot, Miss Lu? Quite a talker too,” said Croly.
“I should like to make her acquaintance. Can you not tempt her to come
down?”
“I’ll try to keep her at home after this, papa,” said Lulu; “but shall
I see if I can coax her to come down now?”
“You may if you choose,” he answered with unmoved gravity.
“Tell her she can have a cup of coffee and anything else she wants if
she will come,” added Grandma Elsie, with a look of amusement.
So Lulu called, “Polly, Polly, come here and you shall have a cup of
the nicest coffee and anything else you want.”
Then for a minute or more everybody seemed to be looking and listening;
but Polly neither answered nor showed herself, and at length baby Ned
broke the silence with, “I ’spect Polly’s done ’way to our house adain.
She won’t tum when Lu talls her.”
“She seems to have taken her departure very suddenly,” remarked
Rosie. “Strange she should do so if she were really as hungry as she
pretended.”
“I don’t b’lieve she was, Aunt Rosie,” said little Elsie, “for nobody
ever gets starved at our house, ’cause papa always buys plenty for
everybody to eat.”
“It’s good food too, and well cooked,” added Grace.
“I think that is all true, Mr. Croly, and I hope you will come and see
for yourself,” laughed Violet.
“Hush, hush, hush! you talk too much, Polly,” came in a shrill scream
apparently from the top of the tree; then in a coaxing, complaining
tone, “Poor Polly’s hungry! It’s breakfast-time. Polly wants a biscuit.
Polly wants a cup of coffee.”
“Why, she’s quite a talker. I’d really like to get a sight of her,”
said Croly, making a more determined effort than before to do so.
“Humph! savin’ all your pity for hungry birds! Never a bit of it to
give a starvin’ human creeter,” snarled a man’s voice that seemed to
come from a clump of bushes a yard or two in Croly’s rear. Every head
at once turned in that direction, but the speaker seemed invisible.
It was Grandma Elsie who replied: “There is abundance of food here, and
I would have no one starve or suffer at all from hunger. Step up to the
table and your wants shall be supplied.”
“There is no empty seat at your table, ma’am,” snarled the voice.
“True,” she returned, “but there are abundance of seats near at hand,
and you can carry your food to one of them when you have received it,
and there sit and eat at your leisure.”
“Why, where on earth is the fellow?” asked Croly of Harold, speaking
in an undertone. “I cannot catch so much as a glimpse of him.”
“It really looks very mysterious,” returned Harold, with difficulty
repressing a smile. “What had better be done about it, do you think?”
“Surely that is for your mother to say,” returned Croly; “but if I were
in her place I should have the grounds thoroughly searched for that
impudent fellow, who is probably a thieving tramp.”
“Hardly, I think,” said Harold, “for they are somewhat scarce
hereabouts; at least, we seldom see one.”
“Ah? then you are fortunate in that respect.”
“But how odd that both bird and man should be invisible!” exclaimed
Mary Keith. “I must own that I cannot understand it.”
“No,” remarked Herbert gravely; “there are many things happening in
this world that we cannot understand.”
“But it surprises me to see how easily you take all this. Now I should
want to hunt him out and send him about his business before he does any
mischief.”
“Perhaps that might be the better plan,” returned Harold. “Here,
Prince,” as Max’s dog was seen slowly approaching, “hunt out that
fellow yonder,” pointing to the clump of bushes from which the voice
had seemed to come. “Sick him! sick him!”
At that Prince pricked up his ears, wagged his tail, and rushed toward
the bushes barking furiously; but only for a moment or two, evidently
finding no one there. He came slowly back with lowered tail and
drooping ears, plainly feeling that he had been sold, and mortified
that he had fallen into the trap laid for his unwary feet.
“Poor fellow,” said Herbert, “that chap seems as hard to find as the
bugler was a while ago; but never mind—you did your best.”
“Take him to the kitchen, Sam, and comfort him with a good dinner,”
said Grandma Elsie to a servant.
“Well, Croly, what is it?” laughed Herbert. “You really look as if you
had put on your thinking cap.”
“Yes, so I have,” returned Croly, glancing searchingly about, “and the
conclusion I’ve reached is that we must have a ventriloquist among us.
The next question is, who is he?”
“A ventriloquist!” exclaimed Mary Keith. “How delightful! Such fun
as we shall have if that is really the case! But who can it be? You,
captain?” looking searchingly at him.
“I should be very willing to plead guilty to the charge could I do so
truthfully, Cousin Mary,” he replied in a playful tone.
“Oh, no, I think it can hardly be the captain,” said Croly. “He was
not down at the lake with us, and doubtless the invisible bugler was
the ventriloquist, or the ventriloquist the bugler, whichever way you
prefer to put it.”
“There! I dare say you are right,” she returned. “Now, Harold, it was
you, wasn’t it? You may just as well own up first as last.”
“But really, Mary, I have nothing to own up to,” he said; “you are by
no means on the right track.”
“Then who could it have been but you, Herbert?” she queried, turning
laughing eyes upon him.
“I can truthfully aver that it was not I, Cousin Mary,” returned
Herbert with grave earnestness, though there was a twinkle of fun in
his eye that half convinced her he was in jest.
She wore a puzzled expression for a moment, then turning suddenly to
Lulu, “I wonder now if it can have been you?” she said, giving the
child a searching look.
“Oh, no, indeed, Miss Mary,” laughed Lulu. “I only wish I could say
yes, for there’s nothing I’d like better than to be able to make such
sport for myself and others.”
“But you know who it is?”
“Why do you think so, Miss Mary?”
“Something in your look and manner tells me that you know all about it;
besides, you were on the shore while we in the boat heard the sounds of
the bugle apparently coming from among the tree-tops.”
“Really, now, Miss Mary, I don’t see that all that proves anything
against me,” laughed Lulu. “Do you think it does, papa?”
“Not at all,” replied her father. “A ventriloquist on the boat might,
I think, make it seem to others that his voice came from among the
tree-tops on the shore. But really, Mr. Croly,” turning toward the
young man as he spoke, “I do not see that you have any positive proof
that there is a ventriloquist here.”
“Why, sir, did we not hear a strange voice speaking apparently from
yonder clump of bushes, and on examination find that there was no one
there?”
“True; but who shall say it may not have been some one very nimble and
fleet of foot who made his escape all too quickly to be caught?”
“Well, sir,” returned Croly slowly and with meditative air, “I suppose
that is just possible. Perhaps too the same fellow was the bugler whom
we all heard but none of us could see.”
“Edward,” said Mr. Dinsmore gravely, “you may as well have the
premises searched for that fellow; for one so adroit at suddenly
disappearing from sight might readily enter the house and carry off
valuables.”
“Yes, sir; I’ll see that he does not,” Edward replied with equal
gravity, but carefully abstaining from an exchange of glances with Mr.
Lilburn.
“Take care that he doesn’t steal your parrot, Lu,” said Zoe. “She’s
worth stealing, and as she is such a good talker I’d be loath to lose
her if she were mine.”
“Indeed so should I,” exclaimed Lulu. “I wouldn’t part with her for a
great deal; especially as she was a present from papa.”
“We will be careful not to leave her here when we go home to-night,”
said the captain.
“I hope you are not afraid to trust her with us, captain,” said Zoe. “I
assure you we would be good to her, and I dare say she would prove a
great amusement to my babies.”
“I have not a doubt that you would treat her well, sister Zoe,” replied
the captain, “and if Lulu is inclined to lend her for a few days, I
shall not object.”
“Then I’ll not take any trouble to hunt her up when we’re ready to go
home,” said Lulu.
All had now satisfied their appetites, the tables were presently
forsaken, and the company gathered in groups here and there under
the trees, some amusing themselves in playing games, others with
conversation; but it had been a long June day, and before the sun had
fairly set most of them were on their homeward way; for Mr. and Mrs.
Dinsmore and Grandma Elsie, hardly rested after their journey, began to
look weary. Mr. Lilburn, at the urgent invitation of the captain and
Violet, returned with them to Woodburn to complete his visit there,
which they said had not been half long enough. Marian too was with
them, so that they were quite a little party.
Grace and the little ones went directly to bed on reaching home, but
the elder ones passed a pleasant hour or two on the veranda before
returning.