Part 36 (1/2)

”Billy, come hold the chair down, please,” called Cricket. So, with Billy to brace his huge foot on the round of the chair, and to hold down the back with his hands, Cricket and Hilda, with another vigorous pull, managed to undouble Zaidee.

Marm Plunkett had been sitting in a state of great excitement, while the rescue was going on, and leaned back with a sigh of relief when the little girl was finally straightened out. Zaidee took it very philosophically.

”Stop crying, Helen,” she said, ”you are such a cry-baby. This is a very funny chair, Marm Plunkett. How do people sit down on it? Do you like it that way? I 'xpect I'm so little that I can't keep on the outside of it. I guess I don't want to sit down any more, any way.”

Marm Plunkett cackled a thin, high laugh.

”Ef children don't beat the Dutch! Wisht I hed some a-runnin' in an' out to kinder chirk me up a bit when Cindy's away.”

”I want a drink, please,” announced Zaidee.

”Bless yer leetle heart! You shall hev a drink right outen the northeast corner of our well, where it's coldest. Take the dipper, Billy, an' give the leetle dears a good cold drink all around.”

”I want one, too,” said Cricket, and all the children trooped after Billy.

The well had the old-fas.h.i.+oned well-sweep.

It was always a mysterious delight to the children to see the water drawn from one of these, as the great end went slowly up and the bucket dipped, and then came down again with a stately, dignified sweep.

Cricket darted forward.

”I've always wanted to ride up on that end,” she said, to herself, ”and now I'm going to.”

Quick as a flash she had jumped astride the end, grasping the pole with both hands. George W. instantly sprang lightly up in front of her, just out of her reach, poising himself with ”Martha” arching over his back.

The twins and Hilda, hanging over the edge and looking down on the mossy stones, did not notice her.

”Get it out of the northeast corner, she said,” ordered Zaidee. ”Which is the northeast corner, Billy? Is it where the water comes in? Billy, there aren't any corners. It's all round.”

Billy was tugging at the slender pole that held the bucket.

”Goes down hard enough. Seems to want ilin' or suthin'. Land o' Jiminy!”

He chanced to turn his head and saw Cricket calmly ascending as the pole went higher and higher. It was a wonder he did not lose his hold.

”Don't let go, Billy,” Cricket screamed. ”If you do, I'll go _kerflump_.”

Billy grasped the pole tighter.

”You'll--you'll fall,” he stammered.

”Course I will if you let go. Go on! Let the bucket down. I'm having a fine ride. Do you like it, George Was.h.i.+ngton?”

George Was.h.i.+ngton walked a step or two further down the beam. He was not at all sure he _did_ like it. As there did not seem to be room enough for him to turn around and run back to Cricket, as he very much wanted to do, he stood still, mewing uncertainly. Billy, in agony of soul, but obedient as ever, lowered the pole carefully, casting reproachful glances over his shoulder. Hilda and the twins stood in fascinated silence, looking at Cricket getting such a beautiful high ride. As for George Was.h.i.+ngton, as the pole slanted more and more, making his head lower and his rear higher, he made a few despairing steps forward. Lower went the bucket, and George W.'s Martha lost her proud arch, and George stuck his claws deep into the wood.

”Oh-ee!” squealed Cricket, suddenly beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable herself. The ground looked very far below her, and she began to feel as if she were pitching headforemost. She held on with her hands, as tightly as George Was.h.i.+ngton did with his claws. Then the bucket hit the water, splash. Dipping it made the big pole dance a little.

”Oh-ee,” squealed Cricket, again, clinging tighter. ”Hurry up, Billy, bring me down.”

”Miau-au,” wailed George Was.h.i.+ngton, suddenly, giving a mighty spring of desperation. Alas! he missed his calculation, if he had time to make any, and disappeared from the eyes of the children into the dark depths of the well. Cricket, forgetting her own precarious position, involuntarily gave a little grasp after him, thus losing her own hold, lost her balance, and over she went,--and if she had fallen that fifteen feet to the hard ground below, it might have brought to a sudden end her summer at Marbury.

As it fortunately happened, however, she caught at the pole as she went over, grasped it, and hung suspended by her strong little hands.