Produced by Charlene Taylor, Betsie Bush, Matthew Wheatonand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team athttps://www.pgdp.net
Dandelion Cottage
CARROLL WATSON RANKIN
_Illustrated by Mary Stevens_
JOHN M. LONGYEAR RESEARCH LIBRARY
Marquette, Michigan
1977
_First published in 1904_
THE MARQUETTE COUNTY HISTORICAL SOCIETY 213 North Front Street Marquette, Michigan 49855
FOURTH EDITION
First Printing, February 1977
Printed in the USA by THE BOOK CONCERN, INC. Hancock, Michigan
_To_ RHODA, FRANCES, AND ELEANOR
_whose lively interest made the writing of this little book a joyful task._
THE PERSONS OF THE STORY
BETTIE TUCKER:} JEANIE MAPES:} _The Dandelion Cottagers_ MABEL BENNETT:} MARJORY VALE:} THE TUCKER FAMILY: _Mostly boys_ THE MAPES FAMILY: _Two parents, two boys_ DR. AND MRS. BENNETT: _Merely Parents_ AUNTY JANE: _A Parental Substitute_ MRS. CRANE: _The Pleasantest Neighbor_ MR. BLACK: _The Senior Warden_ MR. DOWNING: _The Junior Warden_ MISS BLOSSOM: _The Lodger_ MR. BLOSSOM: _The Organ Tuner_ GRANDMA PIKE: _Another Neighbor_ MR. AND MRS. MILLIGAN:} LAURA MILLIGAN:} THE MILLIGAN BOY AND} _The Unpleasantest Neighbors_ THE MILLIGAN BABY:} THE MILLIGAN DOG:}
Contents
1. _Mr. Black's Terms_ 2. _Paying the Rent_ 3. _The Tenants Take Possession_ 4. _Furnishing the Cottage_ 5. _Poverty in the Cottage_ 6. _A Lodger to the Rescue_ 7. _The Girls Disclose a Plan_ 8. _An Unexpected Crop of Dandelions_ 9. _Changes and Plans_ 10. _The Milligans_ 11. _An Embarrassing Visitor_ 12. _A Lively Afternoon_ 13. _The Junior Warden_ 14. _An Unexpected Letter_ 15. _An Obdurate Landlord_ 16. _Mabel Plans a Surprise_ 17. _Several Surprises Take Effect_ 18. _A Hurried Retreat_ 19. _The Response to Mabel's Telegram_ 20. _The Odd Behavior of the Grown-ups_ 21. _The Dinner_
Dandelion Cottage
CHAPTER 1
Mr. Black's Terms
The little square cottage was unoccupied. It had stood for many years onthe parish property, having indeed been built long before the parishbought the land for church purposes. It was easy to see how DandelionCottage came by its name at first, for growing all about it were great,fluffy, golden dandelions; but afterwards there was another good reasonwhy the name was appropriate, as you will discover shortly.
The cottage stood almost directly behind the big stone church inLakeville, a thriving Northern Michigan town, and did not show veryplainly from the street because it was so small by contrast witheverything else near it. This was fortunate, because, after the Tuckershad moved into the big new rectory, the smaller house looked decidedlyforlorn and deserted.
"We'll leave it just where it stands," the church wardens had said, manyyears previously. "It's precisely the right size for Doctor and Mrs.Gunn, for they would rather have a small house than a large one. Whenthey leave us and we are selecting another clergyman, we'll try to getone with a small family."
This plan worked beautifully for a number of years. It succeeded sowell, in fact, that the vestry finally forgot to be cautious, and whenat last it secured the services of Dr. Tucker, the church had grown soused to clergymen with small families that the vestrymen engaged the newminister without remembering to ask if his family would fit DandelionCottage.
But when Dr. Tucker and Mrs. Tucker and eight little Tuckers, some onfoot and some in baby carriages, arrived, the vestrymen regretted thisoversight. They could see at a glance that the tiny cottage could neverhold them all.
"We'll just have to build a rectory on the other lot," said Mr. Black,the senior warden. "That's all there is about it. The cottage is all outof repair, anyway. It wasn't well built in the first place, and the lastthree clergymen have complained bitterly of the inconvenience of havingto hold up umbrellas in the different rooms every time it rained. Theirwives objected to the wall paper and to being obliged to keep thepotatoes in the bedroom closet. It's really time we had a new rectory."
"It certainly is," returned the junior warden, "and we'll all have totake turns entertaining all the little Tuckers that there isn't room forin the cottage while the new house is getting built."
Seven of the eight little Tuckers were boys. If it hadn't been forBettie they would _all_ have been boys, but Bettie saved the day. Shewas a slender twelve-year-old little Bettie, with big brown eyes, a mopof short brown curls, and such odd clothes. Busy Mrs. Tucker was so inthe habit of making boys' garments that she could not help giving aboyish cut even to Bettie's dresses. There were always sailor collars tothe waists, and the skirts were invariably kilted. Besides this, thelittle girl wore boys' shoes.
"You see," explained Bettie, who was a cheerful little body, "Tommy hasto take them next, and of course it wouldn't pay to buy shoes for justone girl."
The little Tuckers were not the only children in the neighborhood.Bettie found a bosom friend in Dr. Bennett's Mabel, who lived next doorto the rectory, another in Jeanie Mapes, who lived across the street,and still another in Marjory Vale, whose home was next door to DandelionCottage.
Jean, as her little friends best liked to call her, was a sweet-faced,gentle-voiced girl of fourteen. Mothers of other small girls were alwaysglad to see their own more scatterbrained daughters tucked under Jean'sloving wing, for thoroughly-nice Jean, without being in the leastpriggish, was considered a safe and desirable companion. It doesn't_always_ follow that children like the persons it is considered best forthem to like, but in Jean's case both parents and daughters agreed thatJean was not only safe but delightful--the charming daughter of acharming mother.
Marjory, a year younger and nearly a head shorter than Jean, oftenseemed older. Outwardly, she was a sedate small person, slight,blue-eyed, graceful, and very fair. Her manners at times were verypleasing, her self-possession almost remarkable; this was the result ofcareful training by a conscientious, but at that time sadlyunappreciated, maiden aunt who was Marjory's sole guardian. There weremoments, however, when Marjory, who was less sedate than she appeared,forgot to be polite. At such times, her ways were apt to be lesspleasing than those of either Bettie or Jean, because her wit wasnimbler, her tongue sharper, and her heart a trifle less tender. Hermother had died when Marjory was only a few weeks old, her father hadlived only two years longer, and the rather solitary little girl hadmissed much of the warm family affection that had fallen to the lot ofher three more fortunate friends. Those who knew her well found much inher to like, but among her schoolmates there were girls who said thatMarjory was "stuck-up," affected, and "too smart."
Mabel, the fourth in this little quartet of friends, was eleven, largefor her age and young for her years, always an unfortunate combinationof circumstances. She was intensely human and therefore liable to err,and, it may be said, she very seldom missed an opportunity. In schoolshe read with a tremendous amount of expression but mispronounced halfthe words; when questions were asked, she waved her hand triumphantlyaloft and gave anything but the right answer; she had a surprising stockof energy, but most of it was misdirected. Warm-hearted, generous,heedless, hot-tempered, and always blundering, she was something of atrial at home and abroad; yet no one could help loving her, foreverybody realized that she would grow up some day into a really finewoman, and that all that was needed in the meantime was considerablepatience. Rearing Mabel was not unlike the task of bringing up a St.Bernard puppy. Mrs. Bennett was decidedly glad to note the growingfriendship among the four girls, for she hoped that Mabel would in timegrow dignified and sweet like Jean, thoughtful and tender like Bettie,graceful an
d prettily mannered like Marjory. But this happy result hadyet to be achieved.
The little one-story cottage, too much out of repair to be rented, stoodempty and neglected. To most persons it was an unattractive spot if notactually an eyesore. The steps sagged in a dispirited way, some of thewindows were broken, and the fence, in sympathy perhaps with the house,had shed its pickets and leaned inward with a discouraged, hopeless air.
But Bettie looked at the little cottage longingly--she could gaze rightdown upon it from the back bedroom window--a great many times a day. Itdidn't seem a bit too big for a playhouse. Indeed, it seemed a greatpity that such a delightful little building should go unoccupied whenBettie and her homeless dolls were simply suffering for just such ashelter.
"Wouldn't it be nice," said Bettie, one day in the early spring, "if wefour girls could have Dandelion Cottage for our very own?"
"Wouldn't it be sweet," mimicked Marjory, "if we could have the moon andabout twenty stars to play jacks with?"
"The cottage isn't _quite_ so far away," said Jean. "It _would_ be justlovely to have it, for we never have a place to play in comfortably."
"We're generally disturbing grown-ups, I notice," said Marjory,comically imitating her Aunty Jane's severest manner. "A little lessnoise, if you please. Is it really necessary to laugh so much and sooften?"
"Even Mother gets tired of us sometimes," confided Jean. "There are dayswhen no one seems to want all of us at once."
"I know it," said Bettie, pathetically, "but it's worse for me than itis for the rest of you. You have your rooms and nobody to meddle withyour things. I no sooner get my dolls nicely settled in one corner thanI have to move them into another, because the babies poke their eyesout. It's dreadful, too, to have to live with so many boys. I fixed upthe cunningest playhouse under the clothes-reel last week, but the veryminute it was finished Rob came home with a horrid porcupine and I hadto move out in a hurry."
"Perhaps," suggested Marjory, "we could rent the cottage."
"Who'd pay the rent?" demanded Mabel. "My allowance is five cents a weekand I have to pay a fine of one cent every time I'm late to meals."
"How much do you have left?" asked Jeanie, laughing.
"Not a cent. I was seven cents in debt at the end of last week."
"I get two cents a hundred for digging dandelions," said Marjory, "butit takes just forever to dig them, and ugh! I just hate it."
"I never have any money at all," sighed Bettie. "You see there are somany of us."
"Let's go peek in at the windows," suggested Mabel, springing up fromthe grass. "That much won't cost us anything at any rate."
Away scampered the four girls, taking a short cut through Bettie's backyard.
The cottage had been vacant for more than a year and had not improved inappearance. Rampant vines clambered over the windows and nowhere else intown were there such luxurious weeds as grew in the cottage yard.Nowhere else were there such mammoth dandelions or such prickly burrs.The girls waded fearlessly through them, parted the vines, and, pressingtheir noses against the glass, peered into the cottage parlor.
"What a nice, square little room!" said Marjory.
"I don't think the paper is very pretty," said Mabel.
"We could cover most of the spots with pictures," suggested practicalMarjory.
"It looks to me sort of spidery," said Mabel, who was always somewhatpessimistic. "Probably there's rats, too."
"I know how to stop up rat holes," said Bettie, who had not lived withseven brothers without acquiring a number of useful accomplishments."I'm not afraid of spiders--that is, not so _very_ much."
"What are you doing here?" demanded a gruff voice so suddenly thateverybody jumped.
The startled girls wheeled about. There stood Bettie's most devotedfriend, the senior warden.
"Oh!" cried Bettie, "it's only Mr. Black."
"Were you looking for something?" asked Mr. Black.
"Yes," said Bettie. "We're looking for a house. We'd like to rent thisone, only we haven't a scrap of money."
"And what in the name of common sense would you do with it?"
"We want it for our dolls," said Bettie, turning a pair of big pleadingbrown eyes upon Mr. Black. "You see, we haven't any place to play.Marjory's Aunty Jane won't let her cut papers in the house, so she can'thave any paper dolls, and I can't play any place because I have so manybrothers. They tomahawk all my dolls when they play Indian, shoot themwith beans when they play soldiers, and drown them all when they playshipwreck. Don't you think we might be allowed to use the cottage ifwe'd promise to be very careful and not do any damage?"
"We'd clean it up," offered Marjory, as an inducement.
"We'd mend the rat holes," offered Jean, looking hopefully at Bettie.
"Would you dig the weeds?" demanded Mr. Black.
There was a deep silence. The girls looked at the sea of dandelions andthen at one another.
"Yes," said Marjory, finally breaking the silence. "We'd even dig theweeds."
"Yes," echoed the others. "We'd even dig the weeds--and there's justmillions of 'em."
"Good!" said Mr. Black. "Now, we'll all sit down on the steps and I'lltell you what we'll do. It happens that the Village Improvement Societyhas just notified the vestry that the weeds on this lot must be removedbefore they go to seed--the neighbors have complained about them. Itwould cost the parish several dollars to hire a man to do the work, andwe're short of funds just now. Now, if you four girls will pull up everyweed in this place before the end of next week you shall have the use ofthe cottage for all the rest of the summer in return for your services.How does that strike you?"
"Oh!" cried Bettie, throwing her arms about Mr. Black's neck. "Do letme hug you. Oh, I'm glad--glad!"
"There, there!" cried stout Mr. Black, shaking Bettie off and droppingher where the dandelions grew thickest. "I didn't say I was to bestrangled as part of the bargain. You'd better save your muscle for thedandelions. Remember, you've got to pay your rent in advance. I shan'thand over the key until the last weed is dug."
"We'll begin this minute!" cried enthusiastic Mabel. "I'm going straighthome for a knife."