CHAPTER 8
An Unexpected Crop of Dandelions
In spite of the prospect of losing her, the last week of Miss Blossom'sstay was a delightful one to the girls because so many pleasant thingshappened. The best of all concerned the cottage dining-room.
This room had proved the hardest spot in the house to make attractive,for it seemed to resist all efforts to make a well-furnished room of it.Most of the faded paper was loose and much of it had dropped off inpatches during the time that the cottage was vacant, showing the ugly,dark, painted wall underneath. It was only too evident that the picturesthat the girls had fastened up carefully with pins had been put up forpurposes of concealment, the ceiling was stained and dingy, and the rugwas far too small to cover the floor where some industrious formeroccupant had daubed paint of various gaudy hues while trying, perhaps,to find the right shade for the woodwork.
Moreover, what little furniture there was in the dining-room showed veryplainly that it had not been intended originally for dining-room use;the buffet, in particular, proclaimed loudly in big black letters thatit was nothing but a soap box, and Bettie's best efforts could not makeanything else of it. Now that the day for the long-postponed dinnerparty was actually set, the girls' attention was more than ever directedtoward the forlorn appearance of the little dining-room.
"Dear me," said Bettie, one day when the five friends, seated around thetable, were cutting out pictures for a wonderful scrap-book for thelittle lame boy whom Miss Blossom had discovered living near one of thechurches, "I do wish this dining-room didn't look so sort of bedroomy."
"Yes," said Jean, "I've tried putting the buffet in every corner andall around the walls, and it _won't_ look like anything but a woodenbox."
"I tried covering it with a gathered curtain," said Mabel, "but thatmade it look so like a washstand that I took it off again."
"Why," exclaimed Miss Blossom, "you've given me a beautiful idea! Ibelieve we could make a splendid sideboard out of that piano box that'sso in our way on the back porch. We'd just have to saw the ends down alittle, nail on some boards, paint it some plain, dark color, and spreada towel over the top, and we'd have a beautiful Flemish oak sideboard.I'll buy the can of paint."
"I'll do the painting," said Jean. "I helped Mother paint our kitchenfloor, so I know a little about it."
"That would be lovely. I've been thinking, too, that it would be a goodidea to fix a little shelf under this window to hold your petunia andthese two geraniums that are suffering so for sunshine. I think I couldmake it from the boards in that soap box."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Bettie. "I don't believe there's _anything_ youdon't know how to do."
The piano box, transformed by Miss Blossom and the four girls into avery good imitation of a Flemish oak sideboard, did indeed make such animposing piece of furniture that the rest of the room looked shabbierthan ever by contrast.
"I'm afraid," said Miss Blossom, surveying the effect with an air ofcomical dismay, "that the rest of our dining-room really looks worsethan it did before; it's like trying to wear a new hat with an old gown.But I'm proud of our handiwork."
"Yes," said Jean, "it's a great deal more like a sideboard than it islike a piano box."
"It's the sideboardiest sideboard I ever saw," said Mabel, "but it'scertainly too fine for this room."
"Never mind," said cheerful Bettie. "We'll let Mr. Black sit so he cansee the sideboard, and we'll have Mrs. Crane face the geraniums on thatcunning shelf. If their eyes begin to wander around the room we'll justcall their attention to the things we want them to see. When Mammaentertains the sewing society she always invites the first one thatcomes to sit in the chair over the hole in the sitting-room rug so theothers won't notice it. If we catch Mr. Black looking at the ceilingwe'll say: 'Oh, Mr. Black, did you notice the flowers on thesideboard?'"
Everybody laughed at Bettie's comical idea. This desperate measure,however, was not needed, for one afternoon, the day after the sideboardwas finished, something happened, something lovelier than the girls hadever even dreamed _could_ happen.
It was only three o'clock, yet there was Miss Blossom coming home twowhole hours earlier than usual; her white-haired father was with herand under his arm in a long parcel were seven rolls of wall paper.
"My contribution to the cottage," said Mr. Blossom, laying the bundle atBettie's feet and smiling pleasantly at the row of girls on thedoorstep.
"It's paper for the dining-room," explained Miss Blossom. "We happenedto pass a store, on our way to work this noon, where they wereadvertising a sale of odd rolls of very nice paper at only five cents aroll. There were two rolls that were just right for the ceiling, andfive rolls for the side wall. It seemed just exactly the right thing forDandelion Cottage, so we couldn't help buying it."
"It would have been wicked," said Mr. Blossom, cutting the string aboutthe bundle, "not to buy such suitable paper at such a ridiculous price."
"Oh! oh!" cried the delighted girls, as Mr. Blossom held up a roll forinspection. "It might have been made for this house!"
"Dandelion blossoms in yellow, with such lovely soft green leaves," saidBettie, "and such a lovely, light, creamy background. Oh! what's that?"
"That's the border," replied Miss Blossom. "See how graceful the patternis, and how saucily those dandelions hold their heads. Show them theceiling paper, Father."
"Oh!" cried Mabel, "just picked-off dandelions scattered all over anocean of milk--how pretty!"
"We'll have the Village Improvement Society after us," laughed Marjory."They don't allow a dandelion to show its head."
"I love dandelions," said Miss Blossom; "real ones, I mean; they're suchgay, cheerful things and such a beautiful color."
"I love them, too," said Jean, "because, you know, they paid our rentfor us."
"But," said Mabel, "I'm thankful we haven't got to dig all thesedandelions."
"Now," said Miss Blossom, "we must go right to work. If everybody willhelp, Father and I will put it on for you. You needn't be afraid totrust us, because last spring we papered our two biggest rooms, and theyreally looked _almost_ professional except for one strip that Father gotupside-down; but your dining-room will be in no danger on that score,for Father never makes the same mistake twice. Jean, you and Mabel canmove all the furniture except the table and sideboard into thekitchen--we'll have to stand on the table. Bettie, take down all thepictures. Father, you can be trimming the ceiling paper here on thesideboard while Marjory starts a fire in the kitchen stove so I can havehot water for my paste. We'll have our wall covered with dandelions injust no time!"
"Now," said Mr. Blossom, when the furniture was out and the pictureswere all down, "we must dig the soil up well or our dandelions won'tgrow. Everybody must tear as much as she can of this old paper off thewall; it's so ragged it comes off very easily."
"The roof used to leak," said Bettie, "but my brother Rob unrolled sometin cans and nailed them over the place where the truly shingles aregone, and it never leaked a mite the last four times it rained."
"The plaster seems fairly good," said Mr. Blossom. "I could mend theseholes with a little plaster of Paris if some obliging young lady wouldrun with this dime to the drugstore for ten cents' worth."
"I'll go," said Mabel. "I don't think I like peeling walls."
"Mabel," said Miss Blossom, "isn't really fond of work, though I noticethat she usually does her share."
Everybody helped to mend the cracks, and everybody watched withbreathless interest to see the first long strip, upheld by Mr. Blossomand guided by Miss Blossom and the cottage broom, go into place.
"Wouldn't it be awful," whispered Mabel, "if it shouldn't stick?"
But it did stick, smooth and flat, and the paper was even prettier onthe wall than it had been in the roll.
"A side strip next, Father, so we can see how it's going to look,"pleaded Miss Blossom. "Remember, we're just children."
At five o'clock, when half of the ceiling and one side of the wall werefinished,
the front door was opened abruptly.
"Hi there!" said Mr. Black, putting his head in at the dining-room door."Why don't you listen when I ring your bell? Is that dinner of mineready? I'm losing a pound a day."
"No," said Bettie, jumping down from her perch on the sideboard, "but itwill be next Friday. We're getting it ready just as fast as ever we can.We're even papering the dining-room for the occasion."
"Well," said Mr. Black, "I just stopped in to say that unless you couldgive me that dinner this very minute, I shall have to go hungry for thenext five weeks."
"Oh!" cried Bettie, in dismay, "why?"
"Because I'm going to Washington tonight by the six o'clock train and Ishall be gone a whole month--perhaps longer."
"Oh, dear," cried Bettie, "we just _couldn't_ have you tonight. We'repapering the dining-room, and besides we haven't a single thing to eatbut some stale cake that Mrs. Pike gave us."
"I strongly suspect," said Mr. Black, smiling over Bettie's head at Mr.Blossom, "that you don't really _want_ me to dinner."
"Oh, we do, we do," assured Bettie, earnestly, "but we just _can't_ havecompany tonight. If you'll just let us know exactly when you're cominghome, you'll find a beautiful dinner ready for you."
"All right," said Mr. Black, "I'll telegraph. I'll say: 'My dear MissBettykins, of Dandelion Cottage: It will give me great pleasure to dinewith you tomorrow--or would you rather have me say the day aftertomorrow?--evening. Yours most devotedly and-so-forth.'"
"Yes, yes," cried Bettie, "that will be all right, but you must give usthree days to get ready in."
After all, however, it was Mabel that sent the telegram, and it was avery different one.