Part 3 (1/2)

Rollo laughed heartily at this idea and said, ”Then, according to that, you must have supper at midnight!”

”You are quite right,” answered Stella's mother.

”And breakfast at noon next day.”

”Very often, I admit. But Sat.u.r.day and Sunday are holidays and we are always up betimes. Come, what shall we do? Rollo, you propose something.”

All the company, of which there was about a score of folk of various ages, looked at Rollo expectantly, causing him to feel much embarra.s.sed, but he spoke up bravely and said, ”Since it is a holiday I suppose we may as well play games. Shall we play at catch-as-catch-can or blindman's buff,--or should you prefer an indoor-game such as pillows-and-keys or post-office? The latter, I think I ought to say, are kissing games.”

”O fie! for shame!” they all cried. ”It is too early in the day.”

”Come, Rollo,” said a very pretty young lady whose name was Miss Lois.

”Monty and I are going to play tennis.”

”Alas! I fear I cannot,” said Rollo sadly. ”It is like battledore and shuttlec.o.c.k, is it not? I think, if you do not mind, I will watch Mr.

Bradley and his friend Mr. Robbins play at golf, which is a game I have never witnessed, though I have often seen gentlemen falling over their golf-sticks in the city train-cars.”

”Right you are,” said Monty as Rollo strolled after Mr. Bradley, who was Stella's father, and his friend, Mr. Robbins.

”Such larks!” thought Rollo, as he watched the two gentlemen place the small white b.a.l.l.s on mounds like mole-hills, and then knock them far away.

”We are aiming at that little red flag,” said Mr. Robbins, whom Rollo had secretly nicknamed Robin-Redface.

”Thank you, sir,” said Rollo, ”I should never have guessed it.”

For a time all went well. The two gentlemen hit the ball with great skill and seemed well pleased with their success. Rollo, too, delighted in the velvety lawns about him, and marvelled to see all the hay in so early in the season.

Thus the morning pa.s.sed very quickly, but toward noon things began to turn out not so agreeably. First Mr. Bradley, and then Mr. Robbins, knocked their golf-b.a.l.l.s into places where it was impossible to find them, search as they might. This was great fun for Rollo, who thought it was like looking for field-sparrows' nests, and he kept fooling the two gentlemen, crying, ”Oh, here it is!--No, it is only a stone!

Oh, here it is!--No, it is only a mushroom,” until Mr. Bradley took him by the shoulder and spoke to him very roughly.

Then they came to a pretty little pond where Rollo longed to stop and fish. Mr. Robbins placed his ball on a little mound and very skilfully hit the pond right in the middle.

”Bravo!” cried Rollo.

To his surprise Mr. Robbins turned and said something which I cannot print, but which caused Rollo's cheeks to turn a deep crimson. In fact he called Rollo a very bad name.

Then Mr. Bradley, as if imitating Mr. Robbins, hit the pond in almost the same spot. It was then Mr. Robbins' turn to cry ”bravo,” which he did, and, to Rollo's dismay, Stella's father twice, at least, took the name of his Maker in vain.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Mr. Robbins turned and said something which I cannot print”]

You may be sure it was in vain, for, from then on, things went from bad to worse, until Rollo could stand it no longer. He turned and walked quietly back toward the house.

The gentlemen did not notice his departure; they were too busy digging holes in the ground and throwing sand out of a ditch which, to Rollo, seemed deep enough already.

”Never,” thought Rollo, ”have I seen men dig up so much ground without either putting anything in or taking anything out.”

As Rollo neared the house he noticed that the tennis-ground was deserted. Two rackets lay on the terrace-steps. He crossed the terrace quietly and peered into the dim living-room within which he saw Monty and Miss Lois sitting on a sofa.