Part 21 (1/2)
So they followed and heard the music grow lively, saw the banners wave in the breeze again when the graveyard was pa.s.sed, and watched the company file into the dilapidated old church that stood at the corner of three woodland roads. Presently the sound of singing made the outsiders quicken their steps, and, stealing up, they peeped in at one of the broken windows.
Captain Dove was up in the old wooden pulpit, gazing solemnly down upon his company, who, having stacked their arms in the porch, now sat in the bare pews singing a Sunday-school hymn with great vigor and relish.
”Let us pray,” said Captain Dove, with as much reverence as an army chaplain; and, folding his hands, he repeated a prayer which he thought all would know,--an excellent little prayer, but not exactly appropriate to the morning, for it was,--
”Now I lay me down to sleep.”
Every one joined in saying it, and it was a pretty sight to see the little creatures bowing their curly heads and lisping out the words they knew so well. Tears came into Rose's eyes as she looked; Mac took his hat off involuntarily, and then clapped it on again as if ashamed of showing any feeling.
”Now I shall preach you a short sermon, and my text is, 'Little children, love one another.' I asked mamma to give me one, and she thought that would be good; so you all sit still and I'll preach it. You mustn't whisper, Marion, but hear _me_. It means that we should be good to each other, and play fair, and not quarrel as we did this very day about the wagon. Jack can't always drive, and needn't be mad because I like to go with Frank. Annette ought to be horse sometimes and not always driver; and Willie may as well make up his mind to let Marion build her house by his, for she _will_ do it, and he needn't fuss about it. Jamie seems to be a good boy, but I shall preach to him if he isn't.
No, Pokey, people don't kiss in church or put their hats on. Now you must all remember what I tell you, because I'm the captain, and you should mind me.”
Here Lieutenant Jack spoke right out in meeting with the rebellious remark,--
”Don't care if you are; you'd better mind yourself, and tell how you took away my strap, and kept the biggest doughnut, and didn't draw fair when we had the truck.”
”Yes, and you slapped Frank; I saw you,” bawled Willie Snow, bobbing up in his pew.
”And you took my book away and hid it 'cause I wouldn't go and swing when you wanted me to,” added Annette, the oldest of the Snow trio.
”I _shan't_ build my house by Willie's if he don't want me to, so now!”
put in little Marion, joining the mutiny.
”I _will_ tiss Dimmy! and I tored up my hat 'tause a pin picked me,”
shouted Pokey, regardless of Jamie's efforts to restrain her.
Captain Dove looked rather taken aback at this outbreak in the ranks; but, being a dignified and calm personage, he quelled the rising rebellion with great tact and skill by saying, briefly,--
”We will sing the last hymn; 'Sweet, sweet good-by,'--you all know that, so do it nicely, and then we will go and have luncheon.”
Peace was instantly restored, and a burst of melody drowned the suppressed giggles of Rose and Mac, who found it impossible to keep sober during the latter part of this somewhat remarkable service.
Fifteen minutes of repose rendered it a physical impossibility for the company to march out as quietly as they had marched in. I grieve to state that the entire troop raced home as hard as they could pelt, and were soon skirmis.h.i.+ng briskly over their lunch, utterly oblivious of what Jamie (who had been much impressed by the sermon) called ”the captain's beautiful teck.”
It was astonis.h.i.+ng how much they all found to do at Cosey Corner; and Mac, instead of lying in a hammock and being read to, as he had expected, was busiest of all. He was invited to survey and lay out Skeeterville, a town which the children were getting up in a huckleberry pasture; and he found much amus.e.m.e.nt in planning little roads, staking off house-lots, attending to the water-works, and consulting with the ”selectmen” about the best sites for public buildings; for Mac was a boy still, in spite of his fifteen years and his love of books.
Then he went fis.h.i.+ng with a certain jovial gentleman from the West; and though they seldom caught any thing but colds, they had great fun and exercise chasing the phantom trout they were bound to have. Mac also developed a geological mania, and went tapping about at rocks and stones, discoursing wisely of ”strata, periods, and fossil remains;”
while Rose picked up leaves and lichens, and gave him lessons in botany, in return for his lectures on geology.
They led a very merry life; for the Atkinson girls kept up a sort of perpetual picnic; and did it so capitally, that one was never tired of it. So their visitors throve finely, and long before the month was out it was evident that Dr. Alec had prescribed the right medicine for his patients.
CHAPTER XIV.
_A HAPPY BIRTHDAY._
THE twelfth of October was Rose's birthday, but no one seemed to remember that interesting fact, and she felt delicate about mentioning it, so fell asleep the night before wondering if she would have any presents. That question was settled early the next morning, for she was awakened by a soft tap on her face, and opening her eyes she beheld a little black and white figure sitting on her pillow, staring at her with a pair of round eyes very like blueberries, while one downy paw patted her nose to attract her notice. It was Kitty Comet, the prettiest of all the p.u.s.s.ies, and Comet evidently had a mission to perform, for a pink bow adorned her neck, and a bit of paper was pinned to it bearing the words, ”For Miss Rose, from Frank.”
That pleased her extremely, and that was only the beginning of the fun, for surprises and presents kept popping out in the most delightful manner all through the day, the Atkinson girls being famous jokers and Rose a favorite. But the best gift of all came on the way to Mount Windy-top, where it was decided to picnic in honor of the great occasion. Three jolly loads set off soon after breakfast, for everybody went, and everybody seemed bound to have an extra good time, especially Mother Atkinson, who wore a hat as broad-brimmed as an umbrella, and took the dinner-horn to keep her flock from straying away.