Part 28 (1/2)
”Yep. Quit this morning.”
It had begun to snow. They turned and made their way back to the house. The information she had received did not cause Jill any great apprehension. It was hardly likely that her new duties would include the stoking of the furnace. That and cooking appeared to be the only acts about the house which were outside her present sphere of usefulness.
”He killed a rat once in the wood-shed with an axe,” said Tibby chattily. ”Yessir! Chopped it right in half, and it bled!”
”Look at the pretty snow falling on the trees,” said Jill faintly.
At breakfast next morning, Mrs. Mariner having sneezed, made a suggestion.
”Tibby, darling, wouldn't it be nice if you and cousin Jill played a game of pretending you were pioneers in the Far West?”
”What's a pioneer?” enquired Tibby, pausing in the middle of an act of violence on a plate of oatmeal.
”The pioneers were the early settlers in this country, dear. You have read about them in your history book. They endured a great many hards.h.i.+ps, for life was very rough for them, with no railroads or anything. I think it would be a nice game to play this morning.”
Tibby looked at Jill. There was doubt in his eye. Jill returned his gaze sympathetically. One thought was in both their minds.
”There is a string to this!” said Tibby's eye.
Mrs. Mariner sneezed again.
”You would have lots of fun,” she said.
”What'ud we do?” asked Tibby cautiously. He had been had this way before. Only last summer, on his mother's suggestion that he should pretend he was a s.h.i.+pwrecked sailor on a desert island, he had perspired through a whole afternoon cutting the gra.s.s in front of the house to make a s.h.i.+pwrecked sailor's simple bed.
”I know,” said Jill. ”We'll pretend we're pioneers stormbound in their log cabin in the woods, and the wolves are howling outside, and they daren't go out, so they make a lovely big fire and sit in front of it and read.”
”And eat candy,” suggested Tibby, warming to the idea.
”And eat candy,” agreed Jill.
Mrs. Mariner frowned.
”I was going to suggest,” she said frostily, ”that you shovelled the snow away from the front steps!”
”Splendid!” said Jill. ”Oh, but I forgot. I want to go to the village first.”
”There will be plenty of time to do it when you get back.”
”All right. I'll do it when I get back.”
It was a quarter of an hour's walk to the village. Jill stopped at the post-office.
”Could you tell me,” she asked, ”when the next train is to New York?”
”There's one at ten-ten,” said the woman behind the window. ”You'll have to hurry.”
”I'll hurry!” said Jill.
CHAPTER VIII