Part 18 (1/2)
The children all expressed their sympathy and regret.
”Shall we go down on the beach and play?” Betty suggested.
Lulu looked doubtful.
”It's pretty hot down there,” she objected, ”and besides, we were there all the morning. We might go for a drive, only Thomas is so fussy, he never will harness the horses unless somebody grown up tells him to.
Jane's ironing, so she can't take us anywhere. I'll tell you what we might do though”--with a sudden inspiration--”we might go down to the river and play s.h.i.+pwreck. That old boat that's fastened to the dock is just great to play s.h.i.+pwreck in. It's quite easy to get into it, even Jack could manage it all right, and I'd bring one of the cus.h.i.+ons off the piazza to make him comfortable.”
”Are you sure it's quite safe?” inquired cautious Betty, looking doubtful.
”Oh, yes, it's all right. We were in it the day the Rossiters were here, and papa saw us. It's fastened to the dock by a chain. Nothing could possibly happen. Come along; it's lovely and cool down there by the river, and if we stay here we shall be sure to forget and talk loud, and that will disturb Aunt Daisy.”
”Oughtn't we ask some one first?” Winifred suggested.
”There isn't any one to ask. Papa and mamma are in New York, and Aunt Daisy's asleep. Jane wouldn't know, and she always makes a fuss about things she doesn't understand. If it hadn't been all right, papa would have said so when the Rossiters were here.”
This seemed a practical argument, and although Betty still felt a little uncomfortable about the wisdom of the proceeding, she made no further objections, and five minutes later the little party were standing on the dock. It was, as Lulu had said, very easy to step into the old rowboat, which, indeed, looked safe enough even to Betty, being fastened to the dock by a long chain. With a little help from the girls, Jack succeeded in crawling over the side, and was made comfortable in the stern, while the others settled themselves on the benches.
”Isn't it perfectly lovely here?” cried the little boy enthusiastically, dabbling his hands in the cool water. ”I was never in a boat like this before.”
”Of course it's lovely,” said Lulu in a tone of unqualified satisfaction; ”I told you it would be. It's much nicer than on that hot piazza, or on the beach either.”
”There are mosquitoes,” Winifred remarked, flapping vigorously about her head with her handkerchief. ”Mosquitoes always do bite me most dreadfully.”
”That's because you're so sweet,” said Lulu. ”Try not to think about them, and then you won't mind. Aunt Daisy says if only people wouldn't think about disagreeable things, they would be a great deal happier.”
”Look, look; I can make the boat rock,” cried the excited Jack.
”Oh, isn't it fun?”
”Now,” said Lulu, as usual taking the initiative; ”we are a party of s.h.i.+pwrecked people, escaping in a lifeboat from a sinking s.h.i.+p. We are away out in the middle of the ocean. All the other people in the s.h.i.+p have been drowned, and we have escaped in the only boat there was. I am a widow lady traveling with my little boy. You are my little boy, Jack, and you are very ill. You must put your head in my lap, and keep your eyes shut as if you were suffering a great deal. Winifred is our faithful maid, who has been everywhere with us, and has divided her last s.h.i.+p biscuit with us.”
”And what am I?” inquired Betty, beginning to enter the spirit of the new game. ”Don't make the boat rock quite so hard, Jack, dear, please.”
”You are the kind old sailor, who has saved us all. Some bad men on the s.h.i.+p wanted to take this lifeboat, and leave us to drown, but you shot them all down, and now you are taking us to an inhabited island you know about. We have been three days without food, and without seeing a sail, but I have promised that if you will bring us safely to land I will make you very rich.”
”Are you very rich yourself?” inquired Betty.
”Of course, I'm a very great lady. No, I think I will be a princess; that will be nicer, and when people do brave things I make them my knights.”
”But there aren't any knights now,” Winifred objected.
”Well, then, it isn't now; it's a long time ago, about the time of Queen Elizabeth, I guess. Now come on, let's begin.”
The next half-hour was one of the most delightfully exciting periods the children had ever enjoyed. Lulu's vivid imagination carried them all along with it, and even practical Betty forgot everything else in the interest of the s.h.i.+pwreck. Jack played the suffering child to perfection; moaned pitiously, and implored his mother in feeble whispers for a crust of bread or a drop of water. The food was all gone, Lulu said, but Winifred endeavored to procure the desired water by dipping her hands in the river, and splas.h.i.+ng salt water over Jack's face. Some of it ran into his eyes, which was not pleasant, but Jack was too polite to complain. Betty spoke words of encouragement and cheer, while she scanned the horizon through an imaginary telescope. Lulu hung over her suffering child, soothing his woes by the tenderest caresses and promising innumerable purses filled with gold to Betty and Winifred, as rewards for their faithful services, if ever they should reach the sh.o.r.e alive.
”There's a dreadful storm coming up,” announced Lulu, suddenly glancing up at the cloudless blue sky, and beginning to wave her arms frantically. ”We shall be drowned, I know we shall. Make the boat rock as much as you can, Betty, so it will seem as if the sea was getting rough. Oh, what will become of us? Do you think we shall all perish, sailor?”
”Can't say; hope not,” said Betty, who had an idea that all sailors spoke in short, jerky sentences.