Part 21 (1/2)
”Hope you heard a good sermon,” said Billy, making conversation in his turn.
”Oh, _yes_, very. I listened to almost all of it. Mr. Clark said something about something being as many as the hairs of your head, and there was a bald-headed man who sat right in front of us, and he only had the teentiest bit of hair, just like a little lambrequin around his head. So I thought I could easily count his hairs, because they were so straight and so long, and so few of them, anyway. And, Billy, do you know, I got so interested that I began to count right out loud once, and I stood up, right there in church, Billy, while the minister was preaching, to see round his head better, and Eunice pulled me down. I was _so_ ashamed.”
Billy looked so shocked that Cricket hastened to add:
”There weren't very many people who saw me, though, for we sat pretty far back. I _did_ listen to the sermon after that, though. I had only counted up to two hundred. I just wonder how many hairs a person has on his head, anyway. I mean a person with the regular amount.”
”Three hundred?” hazarded Billy, hazily.
”No, indeed; more than that. Many as a thousand, I guess. Oh, Billy, you have a splendid lot of hair! S'pose I count it this afternoon?”
Billy chuckled a.s.sent.
”Let's go out in the orchard, back of the beach. It's all quiet and shady there. The girls will be down by the rocks, and the boys are going for a long walk. So there will be n.o.body to interrupt us. It will take most all the afternoon, I guess, but I've always wanted to know how many hairs grow on a person's head. I'll come for you after dinner, Billy, don't forget!” and, having arrived at the house, Cricket skipped up the porch steps, and went up-stairs to relieve herself of the bondage of her pink organdie as soon as possible.
After dinner, Cricket found her willing slave waiting for her on the piazza.
”Let's go right off before the others come out, for we don't want a whole raft of children after us,” she said, and so they went around the house, through the side gate, into the orchard.
”Here's a lovely, shady spot. You sit right down on this hummock, Billy,” ordered Cricket. ”Your hair is just _fine_ for counting,” she went on, taking off Billy's s.h.i.+ning beaver.
Billy looked much flattered. He certainly did have a good crop for the purpose. His hair was rather coa.r.s.e, very wiry and bristling, about two inches long, and as clean as a daily scrubbing in soap and water could make it.
”Now, where shall I begin? You see you haven't any part, Billy, and there's no place to start from.”
”Seem's if my hair wouldn't stay parted,” said Billy, meekly, looking troubled by the fact.
”I'll part it right in the middle, and you put your hand up and hold this side down, while I count the other. I'll begin right in front.
One--two--three--there, Billy, you moved your hand a little, and some of your hair slipped right up again, and I've lost my place.”
”I didn't go to do it,” said Billy, pressing his hand down harder on the rebellious hairs. ”Is that all right now?”
”Yes, that will do. Now, hold still,” and Cricket began again.
”Ninety-nine--one hundred--oh, _Billy_!” for an inquiring wasp came whizzing near, and Billy ducked suddenly to avoid it. ”Now I've lost that, and I've got to begin again. Billy, you haven't any string in your pocket, have you? Then I could tie up your hair in bunches when I get to one hundred, and count the bunches afterward.”
But Billy hadn't a string.
”I'll run up to the house and get some,” said Cricket, darting away. She was back in a few minutes, with a small pasteboard box in her hand.
”This is better than string,” she panted. ”I got auntie's little box of rubber bands. Now we can count. Never mind holding your hand up, for I can begin anywhere.”
She gathered up a lock of hair, counted to one hundred, and twisted an elastic band around it, close to the roots.
”That's one hundred. Now, for the next,” she said, with much satisfaction. She counted on, industriously, and soon poor Billy's head bristled with queer-looking little bunches on one side. She was much too engrossed to notice the effect at first.
Some time later, grandmamma and Auntie Jean, strolling leisurely through the orchard, saw ahead of them a funny sight: Billy, sitting meekly on a hummock, his hands on his black broadcloth knees, while Cricket stood behind him, bending over his head, all over the top of which bristled plumy bunches of white hair, which stood up rampantly.