Read Dandelion Cottage Page 4


  CHAPTER 4

  Furnishing the Cottage

  After tea that Saturday night four tired but spotlessly clean littlegirls sat on Jean's doorstep, making plans for the coming week.

  "What are you going to do for a stove?" asked Mrs. Mapes.

  "I have a toy one," replied Mabel, "but it has only one leg and italways smokes. Besides, I can't find it."

  "I have a little box stove that the boys used to have in their camp,"said Mrs. Mapes. "It has three good legs and it doesn't smoke at all. Ifyou want it, and if you'll promise to be very careful about your fire,I'll have one of the boys set it up for you."

  "That would be lovely," said Bettie, gratefully. "Mamma has given mefour saucers and a syrup jug, and I have a few pieces left of quite alarge-sized doll's tea set."

  "We have an old rug," said Marjory, "that I'm almost sure I can have forthe parlor floor, and I have two small rocking chairs of my own."

  "There's a lot of old things in our garret," said Mabel; "three-leggedtables, and chairs with the seats worn out. I know Mother'll let us takethem."

  "Well," said Bettie, "take everything you have to the cottage Mondayafternoon after school. Bring all the pictures you can to cover thewalls, and--"

  "Hark!" said Mrs. Mapes. "I think somebody is calling Bettie."

  "Oh, my!" said Bettie, springing to her feet. "This is bath night and Ipromised to bathe the twins. I must go this minute."

  "I think Bettie is sweet," said Jean. "Mr. Black would never have givenus the cottage if he hadn't been so fond of Bettie; but she doesn't puton any airs at all. She makes us feel as if it belonged to all of us."

  "Bettie _is_ a sweet little girl," said Mrs. Mapes, "but she's far tooenergetic for such a little body. You mustn't let her do _all_ thework."

  "Oh, we don't!" exclaimed Mabel, grandly. "Why, what are you laughingat, Marjory?"

  "Oh, nothing," said Marjory. "I just happened to remember how youscrubbed that bedroom floor."

  From four to six on Monday afternoon, the little housekeepers, heavilyburdened each time with their goods and chattels, made many smalljourneys between their homes and Dandelion Cottage. The parlor was soonpiled high with furniture that was all more or less battered.

  "Dear me," said Jean, pausing at the door with an armful of carpet. "Howam I ever to get in? Hadn't we better straighten out what we have beforewe bring anything more?"

  "Yes," said Bettie. "I wouldn't be surprised if we had almost enough fortwo houses. I'm sure I've seen six clocks."

  "That's only one for each room," said Mabel. "Besides, none of the fourthat _I_ brought will go."

  "Neither will my two," said Marjory, giggling.

  "We might call this 'The House of the Tickless Clocks,'" suggested Jean.

  "Or of the grindless coffee-mill," giggled Marjory.

  "Or of the talkless telephone," added Mabel. "I brought over an oldtelephone box so we could pretend we had a telephone."

  There were still several things lacking when the children had foundplaces for all their crippled belongings. They had no couch for the sofapillows Mabel had brought, but Bettie converted two wooden boxes and along board into an admirable cozy corner. She even upholstered thissadly misnamed piece of furniture with the burlaps and excelsior thathad been packed about her father's new desk, but it still needed acover. The windows lacked curtains, the girls had only one fork, andtheir cupboard was so distressingly empty that it rivaled MotherHubbard's.

  They had planned to eat and even sleep at the cottage during vacation,which was still some weeks distant; but, as they had no beds and noprovisions, and as their parents said quite emphatically that they could_not_ stay away from home at night, part of this plan had to be givenup.

  Most of the grown-ups, however, were greatly pleased with the cottageplan. Marjory's Aunty Jane, who was nervous and disliked having childrenrunning in and out of her spotlessly neat house, was glad to haveMarjory happy with her little friends, provided they were all perfectlysafe--and out of earshot. Overworked Mrs. Tucker found it a great reliefto have careful Bettie take two or three of the smallest childrenentirely off her hands for several hours each day. When these infants,divided as equally as possible among the four girls, were not neededindoors to serve as playthings, they rolled about contentedly inside thecottage fence. Mabel's mother did not hesitate to say that she, for one,was thankful enough that Mr. Black had given the girls a place to playin. With Mabel engaged elsewhere, it was possible, Mrs. Bennett said, tokeep her own house quite respectably neat. Mrs. Mapes, indeed, missedquiet, orderly Jean; but she would not mention it for fear of spoilingher tender-hearted little daughter's pleasure, and it did not occur tomodest Jean that she was of sufficient consequence to be missed by hermother or anyone else.

  The neighbors, finding that the long-deserted cottage was againoccupied, began to be curious about the occupants. One day Mrs.Bartholomew Crane, who lived almost directly opposite the cottage, foundherself so devoured by kindly curiosity that she could stand it nolonger. Intending to be neighborly, for Mrs. Crane was always neighborlyin the best sense of the word, she put on her one good dress and startedacross the street to call on the newcomers.

  It was really a great undertaking for Mrs. Crane to pay visits, for shewas a stout, slow-moving person, and, owing to the antiquity andconsequent tenderness of her best garments, it was an even greaterundertaking for the good woman to make a visiting costume. Her bestblack silk, for instance, had to be neatly mended with court-plasterwhen all other remedies had failed, and her old, thread-lace collars hadbeen darned until their original floral patterns had given place to amosaic of spider webs. Mrs. Crane's motives, however, were far betterthan her clothes. Years before, when she was newly married, she hadlived for months a stranger in a strange town, where it was no unusualoccurrence to live for years in ignorance of one's next-door neighbor'svery name. During those unhappy months poor Mrs. Crane, sociable bynature yet sadly afflicted with shyness, had suffered keenly fromloneliness and homesickness. She had vowed then that no other strangershould suffer as she had suffered, if it were in her power to preventit; so, in spite of increasing difficulties, kind Mrs. Craneconscientiously called on each newcomer. In many cases, hers was thefirst welcome to be extended to persons settling in Lakeville, andalthough these visits were prompted by single-minded generosity, it wasnatural that she should, at the same time, make many friends. These,however, were seldom lasting ones, for many persons, whose business keptthem in Lakeville for perhaps only a few months, afterwards moved awayand drifted quietly out of Mrs. Crane's life.

  That afternoon the four girls realized for the first time that DandelionCottage was provided with a doorbell. In response to its livelyjingling, Mabel dropped the potato she was peeling with neatness buthardly with dispatch, and hurried to the door.

  "Is your moth--Is the lady of the house at home?" asked Mrs. Crane.

  "Yes'm, all of us are--there's four," stammered Mabel, who wasn't quitesure of her ability to entertain a grown-up caller. "Please walk in. Oh!don't sit down in that one, please! There's only two legs on that chair,and it always goes down flat."

  "Dear me," said Mrs. Crane, moving toward the cozy corner, "I shouldn'thave suspected it."

  "Oh, you can't sit _there_, either," exclaimed Mabel. "You see, that'sthe Tucker baby taking his nap."

  "My land!" said stout Mrs. Crane. "I thought it was one of thosenew-fashioned roll pillows."

  "_This_ chair," said Mabel, dragging one in from the dining room, "isthe safest one we have in the house, but you must be careful to sitright down square in the middle of it because it slides out from underyou if you sit too hard on the front edge. If you'll excuse me just aminute I'll go call the others--they're making a vegetable garden in theback yard."

  "Well, I declare!" said Mrs. Crane, when she had recognized the fouryoung housekeepers and had heard all about the housekeeping. "It seemsas if I ought to be able to find something in the way of furniture foryou. I have a single iron bedstead I'm willing t
o lend you, and maybe Ican find you some other things."

  "Thank you very much," said Bettie, politely.

  "I hope," said Mrs. Crane, pleasantly, "that you'll be very neighborlyand come over to see me whenever you feel like it, for I'm alwaysalone."

  "Thank you," said Jean, speaking for the household. "We'd just love to."

  "Haven't you _any_ children?" asked Bettie, sympathetically.

  "Not one," replied Mrs. Crane. "I've never had any but I've always lovedchildren."

  "But I'm _sure_ you have a lot of grandchildren," said Mabel,consolingly. "You look so nice and grandmothery."

  "No," said Mrs. Crane, not appearing so sorrowful as Mabel had supposedan utterly grandchildless person _would_ look, "I've never possessed anygrandchildren either."

  "But," queried Mabel, who was sometimes almost too inquisitive, "haven'tyou any relatives, husbands, or _anybody_, in all the world?"

  Many months afterward the girls were suddenly reminded of Mrs. Crane'sodd, contradictory reply:

  "No--Yes--that is, no. None to speak of, I mean. Do you girls sleephere, too?"

  "No" said Jean. "We want to, awfully, but our mothers won't let us. Yousee, we sleep so soundly that they're all afraid we might get the houseafire, burn up, and never know a thing about it."

  "They're quite right," said Mrs. Crane. "I suppose they like to have youat home once in a while."

  "Oh, they do have us," replied Bettie. "We eat and sleep at home andthey have us all day Sundays. When they want any of us other times, allthey have to do is to open a back window and call--Dear me, Mrs. Crane,I'll have to ask you to excuse me this very minute--There's somebodycalling me now."

  Other visitors, including the girls' parents, called at the cottage andseemed to enjoy it very much indeed. The visitors were always greatlyinterested and everybody wanted to help. One brought a little table thatreally stood up very well if kept against the wall, another foundcurtains for all the windows--a little ragged, to be sure, but stillcurtains. Grandma Pike, who had a wonderful garden, was so delightedwith everything that she gave the girls a crimson petunia growing in ared tomato can, and a great many neat little homemade packets of flowerseeds. Rob said they might have even his porcupine if they could get itout from under the rectory porch.

  By the end of the week the cottage presented quite a lived-inappearance. Bright pictures covered the dingy paper, and, thanks tonumerous donations, the rooms looked very well furnished. No one wouldhave suspected that the chairs were untrustworthy, the tables crippled,and the clocks devoid of works. The cottage seemed cozy and pleasant,and the girls kept it in apple-pie order.

  Out of doors, the grass was beginning to show and little green specksdotted the flower beds. Other green specks in crooked rows staggeredacross the vegetable garden.

  The four mothers, satisfied that their little daughters were safe inDandelion Cottage, left them in undisturbed possession.

  "I declare," said Mrs. Mapes one day, "the only time I see Jean,nowadays, is when she's asleep. All the rest of the time she's in schoolor at the cottage."

  "Yes," said Mrs. Bennett, "when I miss my scissors or any of my dishesor anything else, I always have to go to the cottage and get out asearch warrant. Mabel has carried off a wagonload of things, but I don'tknow _when_ our own house has been so peaceful."