Part 27 (1/2)
”What! _that_ little thing?” she exclaimed, in surprise and disgust, when a small affair was pointed out to her, a rock not even very near the water, but well up on the land, with a stone canopy over it. ”How could they land on that little thing?”
”Archie says they came up on stilts,” said Cricket. ”Of course they had to land on Plymouth Rock, 'cause the histories said they must.”
”I never believed that,” said literal Edna. ”How could they get the stilts?”
”Oh, _Edna_!” cried Eunice, while the rest laughed.
”Then they cut a piece off, and carried it up in front of Pilgrim Hall, and put it in front of it, and built a railing round it, the first thing they did,” went on Cricket.
”But there wasn't any Pilgrim Hall, then,” persisted Edna.
”Edna, you're a goose,” said Eunice. ”Now auntie, can we go and see the Statue of Faith, and the Pilgrim Hall, and the burying-ground, and all?”
They had a merry day in the quaint old town, with all its relics and curiosities. They went all over Pilgrim Hall, and saw the famous sword of Captain Myles Standish, the cradle of Peregrine White,--the little baby who was born at sea on that famous voyage,--and hosts of other interesting things.
Then they did a little shopping, and bought some candy to eat on the way home. This was always part of the fun.
”When will they have Captain Myles Standish's statue up?” asked Eunice, with her mouth full of caramels, as they pa.s.sed Captain's Hill.
”Very soon, I believe, now. The pedestal is nearly done, and the statue is already there.”
”Yes, I know,” nodded Cricket. ”We walked over there one day last week.
Hilda, the statue is there waiting, and it's all boxed up like a chicken-coop. You can see the statue right between the slats. And, oh, auntie! Archie made such a funny joke. Will had just asked Eunice why it would be the highest statue in the world, but she knew the answer--'cause it's Myles above the sea, of course. Then Archie stooped over and poked a stick through the slats, and said: 'Let's tickle his feet and see if he smiles.' Wasn't that good?”
”I don't see a bit of sense to it,” declared Edna, ”and I didn't then.
Eunice and Cricket just laughed and laughed, mamma. Of _course_ a statue couldn't smile.”
”Edna, you wouldn't see a joke if one walked up and _bit_ you,” said Eunice. ”Archie said: 'Let's tickle his feet and see if he's-Myles.'
_Don't_ you see?”
”If he's Myles. If he smiles. Oh, _yes_!” cried Edna, looking really excited. ”I see! you can take it in two ways.”
”Edna, it's easy to see your great-grandfather was a Scotchman,” said Mrs. Somers, when she could speak for laughing at her very practical little daughter.
”Why, I don't see what that has to do with it. People laugh at such silly things, mamma. Eunice and Cricket just double up over some things that are too stupid for anything.”
”That's your misfortune, dear. If there was a School of Jokes I should certainly send you to it.”
”Well, for instance,” went on Edna, ”I'll leave it to Hilda if this wasn't silly. That day when we all walked over to Captain's Hill, we all sat down on some stones to rest. n.o.body happened to be saying anything just then, and Cricket began to sing. Archie listened a moment, then he jumped up and started off on a run, as fast as he could go, all around the top of the hill, and came back all puffing and panting, and he said: 'Cricket, I've run all around the hill, and I can't catch that tune.'
The girls thought it was awfully funny; what, do _you_ think it was funny, too?” for Hilda went off in a peal of laughter, as well as auntie.
”Of course,” went on Edna, ”he couldn't tell the tune if he didn't stay and listen to it; and, perhaps, he wouldn't have known then,” she added, thoughtfully.
Cricket grew very red, as she always did when any slighting allusion was made to her singing.
”Archie is a very funny boy, _I_ think,” she remarked quickly, to turn the attention of the others from this sore subject. ”He isn't as nice as Will, but he's generally funnier. He gets so mad when Edna says, 'What's the sense to that?' when he makes a joke.”
”Like yesterday, Mrs. Somers,” said Hilda, ”when Archie asked us a conundrum, 'How does a sculptor die?' do you know it? The answer is, 'He makes faces and _busts_.' And he got so mad when Edna only told him that _busts_ wasn't correct. He ought to say, 'He makes faces and _bursts_.'”
”Well, he ought, oughtn't he, mamma? n.o.body says busts.”