The on the March Part 4 (1/2)
”How do you know they didn't, Bessie? Didn't Maw Hoover get most of the letters on the farm?”
”Yes, she did, Dolly. Paw Hoover couldn't read, so they all went to her, no matter to whom they were addressed.”
”Why, then,” said Dolly, triumphantly, ”maybe your father and mother were writing and sending the money all the time!”
”But wouldn't she have told me so, Dolly?”
”Suppose she just kept the money, and pretended she never got it at all, Bessie? I've heard of people doing even worse things than that when they wanted money. It's possible, isn't it, now? Come on, own up!”
”I suppose it is,” said Bessie, doubtfully. ”Only it doesn't seem very probable. Maw Hoover was pretty mean to me, but I don't think she'd ever have done anything like that.”
”Well, I wouldn't put it above her! She treated you badly enough about other things, heaven knows!”
”I'd hate to think she had done anything quite as mean as that, though, Dolly. I do think she had a pretty hard time herself, and I'm quite sure that if it hadn't been for Jake she wouldn't have been so mean to me.”
”Oh, I know just the sort he is. I've seen him, remember, Bessie! He's a regular spoiled mother's boy. I don't know why it is, but the boys whose mothers coddle them and act as if they were the best boys on earth always seem to be the meanest.”
”Yes, you did see him, Dolly. Still, Jake's very young, and he wouldn't be so bad, either, if he'd been punished for the things he did at home. As long as I was there, you see, they could blame everything that was done onto me. He did, at least, and Maw believed him.”
”Didn't his father ever see what a worthless scamp he was?”
”Oh, how could he, Dolly? He was his own son, you see, and then there was Maw Hoover. She wouldn't let him believe anything against Jake, any more than she would believe it herself.”
”I'm sorry for Paw Hoover, Bessie. He seemed like a very nice old man.”
”He certainly was. Do you remember how he found me with you girls the day after Zara and I ran away? He could have told them where we were then, but he didn't do it. Instead of that, he was mighty nice to me, and he gave me ten dollars.”
”He said you'd earned it, Bessie, and he was certainly right about that. Why, in the city they can't get servants to do all the things you did, even when they're well paid, and you never were paid at all!”
”Well, that doesn't make what he did any the less nice of him, Dolly. And I'll be grateful to him, because he might have made an awful lot of trouble.”
”Oh, I'll always like him for that, too. And I guess from what I saw of him, and all I've heard about his wife, that he doesn't have a very happy time at home, either. Maw Hoover must make him do just about what she wants, whether he thinks she's right or not.”
”She certainly does, Dolly, unless she's changed an awful lot since I was there.”
”Well, I suppose the point is that there really must be more people like him in the country than like his wife and Farmer Weeks. These people around here are certainly being as nice as they can be to the poor Pratts. Just think of their coming here to-morrow to build a new house for them!”
”There are more nice, good-hearted people than bad ones all over, Dolly. That's true of every place, city or country.”
”But it seems to me we always hear more of the bad ones, and those who do nasty things, than we do of the others, in the newspapers.”
”I think that's because the things that the bad people do are more likely to be exciting and interesting, Dolly. You see, when people do nice things, it's just taken as a matter of course, because that's what they ought to do. And when they do something wicked, it gets everyone excited and makes a lot of talk. That's the reason for that.”
”Still, this work that the men from Cranford are going to do for the Pratts is interesting, Bessie. I think a whole lot of people would like to know about that, if there was any way of telling them.”
”Yes, that's so. This isn't an ordinary case, by any means. And I guess you'll find that we'll do plenty of talking about it. Miss Eleanor will, I know, because she thinks they ought to get credit for doing it.”
”So will Mrs. Pratt and the children, too. Oh, yes, I was wrong about it, Bessie. Lots of people will know about this, because the Pratts will always have the house to remind them of it, and people who go by, if they've heard of it, will remember the story when they see the place. I do wonder what sort of a house they will put up?”
”It'll have to be very plain, of course. And it will look rough at first, because it won't be painted, and there won't be any plaster on the ceilings and there won't be any wall paper, either.”
”Oh, but that will be easy to fix later. They'll have a comfortable house for the winter, anyhow, I'm sure. And if they can make as much money out of selling b.u.t.ter and eggs as Miss Eleanor thinks, they'll soon be able to pay to have it fixed up nicely.”
”Dolly, I believe we'll be able to help, too. If those girls at Camp Halsted could go around and get so many orders just in an hour or so, why shouldn't we be able to do a lot of it when we get back to the city?”
”Why, that's so, Bessie! I hadn't thought of that. My aunt would buy her b.u.t.ter and eggs there, I know. She's always saying that she can't get really fresh eggs in the city. And they are delicious. That was one of the things I liked best at Miss Eleanor's farm. The eggs there were delicious; not a bit like the musty ones we get at home, no matter how much we pay for them.”
”I think it's time we were going to bed ourselves, Dolly. This is going to be like camping out, isn't it?”
”Yes, and we'll be just as comfortable as we would be in tents, too. The Boy Scouts use these lean-tos very often when they are in the woods, you know. They just build them up against the side of a tree.”
”I never saw one before, but they certainly are splendid, and they're awfully easy to make.”
”We'll have to get up very early in the morning, Bessie. I heard Miss Eleanor say so. So I guess it's a good idea to go to bed, just as you say.”
”Yes. The others are all going. We certainly are going to have a busy day to-morrow.”
”I don't see that we can do much, Bessie. I know I wouldn't be any good at building a house. I'd be more trouble than help, I'm afraid.”
”That's all you know about it! There are ever so many things we can do.”
”What, for instance?”
”Well, we'll have to get the meals for the men, and you haven't any idea what a lot of men can eat when they're working hard! They have appet.i.tes just like wolves.”
”Well, I'll certainly do my best to see that they get enough. They'll have earned it. What else?”
”They'll want people to hand them their tools, and run little errands for them. And if the weather is very hot, they'll be terribly thirsty, too, and we'll be able to keep busy seeing that they have plenty of cooling drinks. Oh, we'll be busy, all right! Come on, let's go to bed.”
CHAPTER VII.
THE HOUSE RAISING.
The sun was scarcely up in the morning when Eleanor turned out and aroused the girls.
”We've got to get our own breakfast out of the way in a hurry, girls,” she said, ”When country people say early, they mean early--EARLY! And we want to have coffee and cakes ready for these good friends of ours when they do come. A good many of them will come from a long way off and I think they'll all be glad to have a little something extra before they start work. It won't hurt us a bit to think so, and act accordingly anyhow.”
So within half an hour the Pratts and the Camp Fire Girls had had their own breakfasts, the dishes were washed, and great pots of coffee were boiling on the fires that had been built. And, just as the fragrant aroma arose on the cool air, the first of the teams that brought the workers came in sight, with jovial Jud Harkness driving.
”My, but that coffee smells good, Miss Mercer!” he roared. ”Say, I'm not strong for all these city fixin's in the way of food. Plain home cookin' serves me well enough, but there's one thing where you sure do lay all over us, and that's in makin' coffee. Give me a mug of that, Mis' Pratt, an' I'll start work.”
And from the way in which the coffee and the cakes, the latter spread with good maple syrup from trees that grew near Cranford, began to disappear, it was soon evident that Eleanor had made no mistake, and that the breakfast that she had had prepared for the workers would by no means be wasted.
”It does me good to see you men eat this way,” she said, laughing. ”That's one thing we don't do properly in the city--eat. We peck at a lot of things, instead of eating a few plain ones, and a lot of them. And I'll bet that you men will work all the harder for this extra breakfast.”
”Just you watch and see!” bellowed Jud. ”I'm boss here to-day, ma'am, and I tell you I'm some n.i.g.g.e.r driver. Ain't I, boys?”