CHAPTER IV
GARDENS
“Now, children,” said Aunt Rachel, as they all went into the library,after breakfast, “you may play around as you choose, but I don’t wantyou to go off the premises without permission. No more wading in thebrook, and coming home looking disreputable. You may go to our wood, oranywhere on the place, and stay as long as you like, provided you arehere and properly tidy at meal-times But outside the gates, withoutpermission, you must not go: Can I trust you?”
“Yes, indeed, Aunt Rachel,” said Dick; “I’m sure we don’t want to goanywhere else, with all this beautiful place to play in. Why, we haven’thalf explored it yet. Pat says there are thirty acres! Think of that!”
“Yes, it’s a fine old place,” said Miss Rachel, with justifiable pridein her ancestral home. “And I’m glad to have you young people in it, ifyou’ll only behave yourselves, and not keep us everlastingly in hotwater.”
“We do want to be good, Auntie,” said Dolly, in her sweet way; “and ifwe’re bad a few times, just till we learn your ways, you know, you’llforgive us, won’t you?”
Pretty little Dolly had a wheedlesome voice, and a winning smile, andMiss Rachel found it difficult to speak sternly, when the big, dark eyeslooked into her face so lovingly.
“Yes, I’m sure you want to be good, my dears, and also, we want to dothe right thing by you. So we’ll learn each other’s ways, and I’m surewe’ll get along beautifully.”
Miss Rachel was not used to children, and she talked to them as if theywere as grown-up as herself, but Dick and Dolly understood, and satpatiently while she talked, though, in truth, they were impatient to getaway, and run outdoors again.
“I shall send you to school,” went on Miss Rachel, “but not for a weekor two yet. I want to learn you myself a little better first.”
“Yes’m,” said Dolly, who was equally well pleased to go to school or tostay at home. But Dick wanted to go.
“Let us go pretty soon, won’t you, Auntie?” he said; “for I want to getacquainted with the Heatherton fellows.”
“Boys, Dick,” corrected Aunt Abbie, who was beginning to think the twinsrather careless of their diction.
“Yes’m, I mean boys. Are there any who live near here?”
Miss Rachel pursed her lips together.
“The Middletons live in the place next to this,” she began, and Dollybroke in:
“Oh, that pretty place, with the stone pillars at the gate?”
“Yes,” went on her aunt. “But Mrs. Middleton and we are not—that is—”
“Oh, you’re not good friends, is that it?” volunteered Dick.
“Well, yes; I suppose that is it. You children are too young tounderstand, but let it be enough for you that I prefer you should notplay with the little Middletons. There are other neighbours equallypleasant for your acquaintance.”
“All right, Auntie,” agreed Dick. “Cut out the Middletons. And nowmayn’t we run out to play?”
“First, I’ll take you up and show you your playroom. It’s more for rainydays, as you seem to like to be out of doors in fine weather. But comeand see it, anyway.”
The two aunts led the way, and the children followed to a large,delightful room in the third story.
There was a big table in the middle, and smaller tables and chairsabout. There was a pleasant little writing-desk for each, well furnishedwith pretty writing materials. Low bookshelves ran round two sides ofthe room, and the other side showed a jolly big fireplace, and pleasantwindows with deep seats.
A roomy, comfortable old sofa and a chest of drawers completed thefurnishing.
“It isn’t finished,” said Miss Abbie, “because we don’t yet know yourtastes.”
“It’s lovely, Aunties!” cried Dolly, flinging her arms round the neck ofone after the other, and finally embracing Dick in her enthusiasm.
“Oh, it’s just gay!” Dick cried. “I’ve always wanted a big playroom, andnow we’ve got one. Can I whittle and jigsaw up here?”
“Yes, you may do just exactly as you please. You may bring your youngfriends up here, and entertain them whenever you choose.”
“That is, after we get the friends,” supplemented Dolly.
“Yes, but you’ll soon get acquainted. There are many nice children inHeatherton. Do you play dolls, Dolly?”
“Yes, I do, when I have any little girls to play with. But, you see, Iplay with Dick so much, I get out of the habit of dolls. But I do love’em. When our big box of things comes, I’ve lots of dolls in it, andDick’s tool-chest and jigsaw—oh, it will be splendid to fix them all uphere!”
“Yes, Michael will help you. He’ll fix a good workbench, for you, Dick,if you’re fond of fussing with tools. Do you cut your fingers much?”
“Sometimes, Aunt Rachel, but not always. Say, you’re awful good to us.We’re ever so much obliged.”
Dick was more awkward at expressing his appreciation than Dolly, but thehonest joy on the boy’s face showed his admiration of the room, and AuntRachel’s heart warmed toward him, for she too was sometimes unable toexpress herself aptly.
“Now we’ll skiddoo,” said Dolly, as she patted Miss Abbie’s hand by wayof farewell. “We want to see Pat feed the chickens.”
“Yes, dearie, run along, but,—would you mind if I ask you not to usethose—those unusual words?”
“Skiddoo? Oh, that’s an awful useful word, Aunt Abbie. I don’t see how Icould get along without it, but I’ll try if you say so.”
“Yes, do try, Dolly; I want my niece to be a refined, ladylike littlegirl, not a slangy one.”
“Yes’m.” Dolly drew a little sigh. “I want to do what you want me to do.But I’m pretty forgetful, Aunt Abbie, so don’t be ’scouraged, will you,if I don’t get good all at once?”
Dolly had a childish trick of omitting the first syllable of a word, butAunt Abbie kissed the earnest little face, and assured her that shewouldn’t get ’scouraged.
So away the twins scampered, down the stairs, and out into the sweet,clear morning air.
Dana Dene stood high on an elevation that looked down on the small townof Heatherton. The view from the terrace in front of the house wasbeautiful, and as Dick and Dolly looked down at the clustered buildingsthey tried to guess what they were.
“That’s the church,” said Dick, triumphantly pointing to an unmistakablespire.
“One of ’em,” corrected Dolly; “there’s another, and I wonder what thatbig stone building is; prob’ly the school where we’ll go.”
“P’raps. Is it, Patrick?”
“Well, no, Master Dick; that isn’t exactly the school fer ye children.That’s the jail,—the county jail, so it is.”
“Oh,” cried Dolly, in dismay; “I don’t want to go to school to a jail!Where is the school-house, Patrick?”
“There’s three of ’em, Miss Dolly. But the grandest is that white houseferninst, an’ I’m thinkin’ ye’ll go there.”
“Are my aunts very grand, Patrick?”
“Oh, yes, miss. We’re the quality of the hull place. There’s nobody likethe Danas.”
“That’s nice,” said Dolly, with a little air of satisfaction.
“Huh,” said Dick; “what sort of a country do you think this is, Dolly?Everybody is as good as everybody else. Why do you talk that way, Pat?”
“Well, sor, it may be. But everybody in Heatherton, they thinks MissRachel and Miss Abbie is top o’ the heap, you see.”
“All right,” returned Dick. “I don’t mind if we are. But what about theMiddletons? Aren’t they nice people?”
Pat’s face clouded. “Don’t be askin’ me about the Middletons,” he said;“I’ve nothin’ to say for or agin ’em. Now, if so be’s you want to seethem chickens, come ahead.”
They went ahead or, rather, they followed Pat to the chicken yard, andspent a blissful half-hour among the feathered wonders.
They learned the names of the various kinds
of chickens, and Dollydeclared she should never tire of watching the little yellow fledglingspatter around and peep.
“They’re not still a minute,” she said. “Can I try to catch one?”
Pat showed her how to lift one gently, without hurting the little softball of down, and as it was such a pretty little yellow one, Dolly namedit Buttercup, and Pat said it should always be her own chicken.
Then Dick picked one out for his very own, and he chose a black one, andcalled it Cherry, because, he said, some cherries are black.
This made Pat laugh, and then he told the twins to run away and play bythemselves, as he had to go to work in earnest.
“What’s your work, Pat?” asked Dolly, who liked to stay with thegood-natured Irishman.
“I have to do the gardens, Miss Dolly. An’ it’s rale work, it is, notplay. So do ye run away, now.”
“Oh, Pat, let us see you garden,” begged Dolly.
“Please do,” said Dick. “We never saw anybody garden in our life.”
“Ye didn’t! Fer the love of green corn, where was ye brung up?”
“In the city; and summers we had to go to hotels, and we never even sawa garden dug.”
“Come on, then; but ye mustn’t bother.”
“No, we won’t bother,” and with a hop, skip, and jump, they followed Patto the toolhouse. There was such an array of spades, hoes, rakes, andother implements, that Dick cried out: “Oh, let us garden, too! Pat,can’t we each have a little garden,—just a square patch, you know, andplant things in it?”
“Arrah, a garden, is it? An’ who’d be afther weedin’ it, an’ keepin’ itin order fer ye?”
“Why, we’d do it ourselves,” declared Dolly, fixing her eyes on Pat withher most coaxing smile. “Do let us, Pat, dear.”
“Well, ye must ask yer aunties. I cudden’t give no such permission ofmyself.”
Away flew the twins to the house, in search of the aunties, and when thetwins ran, it was a swift performance indeed. They held hands, and theirfeet flew up and down so fast that they looked like some queer sort ofwindmill rolling along.
Bang! in at the front door they went, and almost upset Miss Rachel, whowas serenely crossing the hall.
“Oh, Auntie, may we have a garden?” shouted Dick, seizing his aunt’shand, and leaning up against her to steady himself after his exhaustingrun.
“Oh, Auntie, may we? Do say yes,” cried Dolly, who had flung her armsround Miss Rachel’s waist, and who was dancing up and down to theimminent danger of the good lady’s toes.
“What? Oh, my, how you do fluster me! What is it?”
Miss Rachel shook off the two, and seated herself in a hall chair, toregain her equilibrium, both physical and mental, but the twins madeanother wild dash at her. “Please,” they coaxed, patting her arm and herface and occasionally each other’s hands in their excitement. “Please,Auntie, a garden for our very own.”
“Two,—one for each of us. May we? Oh, please say yes! Do, Auntie, do,say yes.”
Miss Rachel found her voice at last.
“If you want anything,” she said, “stop jumping around like a pair ofwild savages. Sit down on that settee, and tell me quietly, and one at atime, what it’s all about.”
“Let me tell, Dick,” said Dolly, and knowing his sister’s talent forpersuasion, Dick willingly kept quiet while Dolly told.
They sat side by side on the hall settee, opposite their aunt, andscarcely dared move, while Dolly made her plea.
“You see, Auntie,” she began, “we’ve never had a garden; never even seenone made. And so, we thought, perhaps, maybe, as there’s so much spareground lying around, we hoped maybe you’d let us each have a littlegarden of our own. Just a little tiny one, you know.”
“For pity’s sake,” exclaimed Miss Rachel, “is all this fuss about agarden? Why, you can have a dozen, if you like.”
“Oh, thank you, Auntie,” cried Dolly, repressing her inclination to flyover and hug her aunt, lest it be considered a “fuss.” “One’senough,—one apiece, I mean. And what can we plant?”
“Why, plant anything you choose. Pat will give you seeds, and if hehasn’t what you want, we’ll buy some when we go driving this afternoon.”
Dick was overcome by his aunt’s kindness and whole-souled generosity.But he had no intention of making a fuss,—not he. He rose and quietlycrossed the hall, and bowing low in front of the lady, said:
“Aunt Rachel, I do think you’re the very best person in the wholeworld!”
“So do I!” said Dolly. “Seems ’s if I _must_ squeeze you!”
“Not now,” said Miss Rachel, smiling; “you nearly squeezed the breathout of me a few moments ago. I’ll take your enthusiasm for granted. Now,run out, and make your gardens. Tell Pat I said you’re to have whateveryou want for them.”
“Hurray! Hooroo!” cried Dick, unable to repress himself longer, andthrowing his cap up in the air, without having had the least intentionof doing so.
It landed on the high chandelier, and Hannah had to bring thelong-handled feather duster to get it down.
“Please ’scuse Dick, Aunt Rachel,” said loyal little Dolly, seeing herbrother’s regretful look. “He didn’t mean to fling that cap till he gotoutdoors, but somehow——”
“Somehow, it flung itself,” cried Dick; “’cause I’m so glad about thegarden!”
Away they went, banging the door behind them, and Miss Rachel sat a fewminutes, seriously considering whether or not she could keep such littlecyclones in her hitherto quiet and well-ordered home.
“It isn’t so much what they’ve done,” she said, as she went and talkedit over with Miss Abbie, “as what they may do. They’re liable to flingcaps anywhere, and break all the bric-à-brac, and bang all thefurniture—well, if there were any place to send them, they should goto-day.”
“You don’t mean that, Rachel,” said Miss Abbie. “They are noisy, I know,but I think we can train them to better manners; and they have dear,loving little hearts.”
“Too loving,” said the elder sister, ruefully. “They nearly felled me tothe floor, the way they rushed at me. I’m not over the shock yet!”
“Well,” sighed Miss Abbie, “I suppose it’s because we’re not used tochildren; but they do seem especially sudden in their ways.”