CHAPTER V
THE PICNIC
Clarice Packard was indeed in rather a sad plight before they reachedthe Glen. Part of the road was sandy, and her high heels sank into thesand and made it hard walking for her, while her companions, in theirbroad-soled "sneakers," trod lightly and sturdily. Then, too, she hadfrom time to time a stitch in her side, which forced her to sit downand rest for some minutes. Mary, looking at her tiny, wasp-like waist,thought it was no wonder. "Her belt is too tight," she whispered toSue. "Of course she can't walk. Tell her to let it out two or threeholes, and she will be all right."
"Oh, hush, Mary," whispered Sue. "It isn't that at all; it's only thatshe is so delicate. I ought never to have brought her all this way.She has been telling me about the fainting-fits she has sometimes. Oh,what should we do if she had one now!"
"Pour some water over her," said downright Mary. "But don't worry,Sue; we are nearly there, and it really _cannot_ hurt her to walk oneshort mile, you know."
"Do you think not, Mary? But I am afraid you don't understand her. Yousee, she is so delicate, and you are as strong as a cart-horse.Clarice said so. And I suppose I am pretty strong, too."
"I'm much obliged to her," said Mary. "Come, Sue, let's push along;she will be all right when we once get there and she has rested alittle."
The Glen was indeed a pleasant place. A clear stream ran along betweenhigh, rocky banks, with a green space on one side, partly shaded bytwo or three broad oak-trees. Under one of these trees was a bank ofmoss, as soft and green as if it had been piled by the fairies fortheir queen. Indeed, this was one of Sue's and Mary's theories, theother being that this special oak was none other than Robin Hood's owngreenwood tree, transplanted by magic from the depths of SherwoodForest. The former theory appealed more to Sue now, as she led theweary Clarice to the bank, and made her sit down in the mostcomfortable place.
"There, dear," she cried; "isn't this lovely? You shall rest here,Clarice, and we will play fairies, and you shall be Titania. You don'tmind, do you, Mary, if Clarice is Titania this time? She is soslender, you see, and light; and besides, she is too tired to beanything else."
Mary nodded, with a smile; she could not trust herself to speak. Shehad been Titania ever since they first read "Lamb's Tales"; but it wasno matter, and she had promised her mother to do her very best tobring Clarice out, and learn the better side of her.
"Isn't it lovely, Clarice?" she asked, repeating Sue's question as shetook her place on the mossy bank.
"Alegant!" was the languid reply; "perfectly alegant. Isn't it damp,though? Doesn't it come off green on your clothes?"
Mary reassured her on this point. She examined her challis anxiously,and sank back again, apparently relieved. She looked round her. Sueand Lily had vanished for the moment. The trees met over their heads.There was no sound save the tinkling of the brook and the faint rustleof the leaves overhead.
"It's real lonesome, isn't it?" said Clarice.
"Yes," said Mary; "that's part of the beauty of it. There is never anyone here, and we can do just as we like, with no fear of any onecoming. I think in the woods it's pleasant to be alone, don't you?"
"Alegant!" said Clarice; "perfectly alegant! Are there any more peoplecoming, did you say?"
"Only my brothers; they are coming later."
Clarice brightened, and sat up, arranging her trinkets. "Are they incollege?" she asked, with more interest than she had shown in anythingthat day.
"Oh, no!" said Mary, laughing. "They are--"
But at this moment Sue came running up with an armful of ferns andoak-leaves, Lily following with another load. "I had to go a long waybefore I found any that were low enough to reach!" cried Sue, pantingafter her run. "I mustn't shin to-day, 'cause these are new stockings,and last time I tore them all to pieces."
"Tore these all to pieces?" asked Mary, laughing.
"Be still, Mary; I won't be quirked at. Now let's all make garlands.No, not you, Clarice; you must just rest. Do you feel better? Do youthink you'll be all right in a little while? Now you shall be Titaniaand give us orders and things; and then, when we have finished thewreaths, we'll sing you to sleep. I am Oberon, you know, generally;but I'll be one of the common fairies now; and Lily--yes, Lily, youcan be Puck. Now, can you say some of it, Clarice?"
"Some of what?" asked Clarice, with an uncomprehending look.
"Why, 'Midsummer-Night's Dream.' We always play that here, except whenwe play Robin Hood. Perhaps you would rather play Robin, Clarice;perhaps you don't care for 'Midsummer-Night's Dream.' Oh, I hope youdo, though. We are _so_ fond of it, Mary and I!"
"I don't know what you mean," said Clarice, rather peevishly. "Oh,Shakspere's play? I never read it. I didn't take literature at school.Puppa thought I was too delicate to study much."
Sue looked blank for a moment. Not to know "Midsummer-Night'sDream"--that did seem very strange!
But Clarice opened her eyes at her and smiled and sighed. "My eyeshave never been strong!" she murmured plaintively.
Sue's arms were round her in an instant. "You poor darling!" shecried. "Isn't that hard, Mary? isn't it cruel? To think of not havingstrong eyes! Clarice, I will come and read to you every day; I shouldjust love to do it. We'll begin to-morrow morning. Oh, how splendidthat will be! What shall we read first? You have read 'Westward Ho!'of course, and all Mrs. Ewing, and 'Prince Prigio,' and 'The GentleHeritage,' and the Alices, and all the Waverleys?"
No; Clarice had read none of these. She had read "Wilful Pansy, theBride of an Hour," she said, last; and she had just begun "My PetitePet" before she came here. It was perfectly sweet, and so was anotherby the same author, only she couldn't remember the name.
"Aren't we going to play something?" asked Lily, plaintively. Lilycould never understand why big girls spent so much good time intalking.
"Oh, yes!" cried Sue. "We must play, to get up an appetite for dinner;I've got one already, but I'll get another. What would you like toplay, Clarice?"
"I don't care," said Clarice. "Anything you like."
"Oh, but do care, please!" cried Sue, imploringly; "because this isyour picnic, really. We got it up for you; and we want you to haveeverything just as you like it; don't we, Mary?"
Mary assented civilly, and pressed Clarice to choose a game.
"Oh, but I really don't care in the least!" said Clarice. "I don'tknow much about games; my set of girls don't play them; but I'll playanything you like, dear!" She opened her eyes and smiled again, andagain Sue embraced her ardently.
"You dear, sweet, unselfish thing!" she cried. "I think you are anangel; isn't she, Mary? Perhaps we needn't play anything, after all.What _would_ you like to do, Clarice?"
But Clarice would not hear of this--would not choose anything, butwould graciously play any game they decided on. A game of "Plunder"was started, but somehow it did not go well. Plunder is a lively game,and must be played with ardor. After two or three runs, Clarice puther hand to her side and gasped for breath.
"Only a stitch!" she murmured; and she sank down on the mossy bank,while the others gathered round her with anxious faces.
"It will go off in a minute. I'm afraid I am not strong enough toplay this any more, girls. Rough games never suit me."
Mary flushed and looked at Sue; but Sue's gaze was fixed on Clarice,all contrition. "My dear! I am so sorry! You see, we've never beendelicate, and we don't know how; we don't even know what it's like.Lie down, dear, and rest again! Oh, Mary, I feel as if we weremurderers. See how white she is! Do you think she is going to die?"
This was more than Mary could stand. "I think you would be better,Clarice," she said bluntly, "if you loosened your dress a little.Sha'n't I let out your belt for you?"
But Clarice cried out, and declared her dress was too loose already."I never wear anything tight," she said--"never! See, I can put mywhole hand up under my belt." And so she could, when she drew herbreath in. "No," she said; "it is my heart, I fear. I suppose I shallnever be strong like some people. But don't
mind me! Go on playing,and I will watch you."
But three were not enough for Plunder; and besides, the heart forplaying seemed to be gone out of them all, except Lily, who poutedand hung her head, and thought this a very poor kind of picnic indeed.Clarice lay on the bank and fanned herself, looking utterly bored, asindeed she was. Sue regarded her with wide, remorseful eyes, andwondered what she ought to do. In desperation, Mary proposed lunch.
"I am getting hungry!" she said. "Aren't you, girls? It will take alittle time to get the things out and trim the table; let's beginnow."
All agreed with alacrity, and there was some animation as the basketswere unpacked and their contents spread on the "table," which wasgreen and smooth, and had no legs. The platters were made ofoak-leaves neatly plaited together. The chicken-pie was set out, thecakes and turnovers beside it, with doughnuts and sandwiches atconvenient intervals. Sue tumbled the bananas and the cocoanut out ofher blouse, and piled them in an artistic pyramid, tucking infern-fronds and oak-leaves.
"There!" she said, surveying the effect with her head on one side."That is pretty, isn't it, Mary--I mean Clarice?"
Mary pressed her lips together and squeezed Lily's hand hard. Claricesaid it was "perfectly alegant," and then asked again if the gentlemenwere coming.
"Gentlemen!" said Sue. "Oh, how funny you are, Clarice! Mary, isn'tshe funny? The idea of calling the boys gentlemen!"
"I hope they are!" was on the tip of Mary's tongue; but she refrained,and only said it was time they were here. As if in answer to herwords, a joyous whoop was heard, and a scuttling among the branches.Next moment Tom and Teddy burst into the open, out of breath, asusual, tumbling over each other and over their words in theireagerness.
"Hallo! Hallo, Quicksilver! Are we late?"
"I say! we stopped to get some apples. Did you remember apples? I knewyou wouldn't, so we--"
"And we found a woodchuck--"
"Oh, I say, Mary, you should have seen him! He sat up in the door ofhis hole, and--"
"Salt! you forgot the salt, Ballast, and Mammy sent it. Saccarappa!it's all spilled into my pocket. Do you mind a few crumbs?"
"Boys! boys!" said Mary, who had been trying in vain to make herselfheard, "do be quiet! I want to introduce you to Miss Packard. Clarice,these are my brothers, Tom and Teddy."
The boys had no hats to take off,--they wore hats on Sunday,though!--but they bowed with the short, decisive duck of fourteen(indeed, Tom was fifteen, but he did not look it), and tried tocompose their features. "Do!" they murmured; then, at a severe lookfrom Mary, they came forward, and each extended a grimy paw and shookClarice's gloved hand solemnly, leaving marks on it. The ceremonyover, they breathed again, and dropped on the grass.
"Isn't this jolly?" they cried. "Ready for grub? We are half starved."
Clarice's look was almost tragic as she turned upon Sue. "Are thesethe boys you meant?" she asked in a whisper that was fully audible."These--little--ragamuffins?"
"EACH CAME FORWARD AND SHOOK CLARICE'S GLOVED HAND SOLEMNLY."]
Fortunately, Mary was talking to Teddy, and did not hear. Sue did, andfor the first time her admiration for Clarice received a shock. Sheraised her head and looked full at Clarice, her hazel eyes full offire. "I don't understand you," she said. "These are my friends; Iinvited them because you asked me to."
Clarice's eyes fell; she colored, and muttered something, Sue did nothear what; then she put her hand to her side and drew a short, gaspingbreath.
In an instant Sue's anger was gone. "Boys!" she cried hastily. "Tom,bring some water, quick! She's going to faint."
Clarice was now leaning back with closed eyes. "Never mind me," shemurmured softly; "go on and enjoy yourselves. I shall be--better--soon,I dare say."
Splash! came a shower of water in her face. Tom, in eager haste, hadstumbled over Sue's foot, and his whole dipperful of water was spilledover the fainting maiden. She sprang to her feet with amazing agility.
"You stupid, stupid boy!" she cried, stamping her foot, her eyesblazing with fury. "You did it on purpose; you know you did! Get awaythis minute!"
Then, while all looked on in silent amaze, she burst into tears, anddeclared she would go home that instant. She would not stay there tobe made a fool of by odious, rude, vulgar boys.
There was dead silence for a moment. Then Tom said, slowly andsolemnly (no one could be so solemn as Tom when he tried): "I beg yourpardon, Miss Packard; I am very sorry. I will go away if you wish it,but I hope you will stay."
Sue wanted to hug Tom, but refrained. (She had decided a little whileago that she was getting too big to hug the boys any more.) "Tom, youare a darling," she whispered in his ear--"a perfect dear duck! Andyou can use the telephone all you like to-morrow. Clarice," she addedaloud, "he has apologized; Tom has apologized, and that is all he cando, isn't it? You are all right now, aren't you?"
Clarice hesitated. Her dignity was on the one hand, her dinner on theother; she was hungry, and she yielded.
"If he didn't really mean to," she began ungraciously; but Mary cuther short with what the boys called her full-stop manner.
"I think there has been quite enough of this foolishness," she saidcurtly. "Sue, will you pass the sandwiches? Have some chicken-pie,Clarice!"
A sage has said that food stops sorrow, and so it proved in this case.The chicken-pie was good, and all the children felt wonderfully betterafter the second help all round. Tongues were loosed, and chatteredmerrily. The boys related with many chuckles their chase of thewoodchuck, and how he finally escaped them, and they heard himlaughing as he scuttled off.
"Well, he _was_ laughing--woodchuck laughter; you ought just to haveheard him, Mary."
Sue made them all laugh by telling of her encounter with Katy and themilk-pan. Even Clarice warmed up after her second glass of shrub, andtold them of the picnics they had at Saratoga, where she had been lastyear.
"That was why I was so surprised at this kind of picnic, dear," shesaid to Sue, with a patronizing air. "It's so different, you see. Thelast one I went to, there were--oh, there must have been sixty peopleat the very least. It was perfectly alegant! There were twofour-in-hands, and lots of drags and tandems. I went in a dog-cartwith Fred. You know--the one I told you about." She noddedmysteriously and simpered, and Sue flushed with delighted consequence.
"What did you take?" asked Lily, her mouth full of chicken.
"Oh, a caterer furnished the refreshments," said Clarice, airily."There was everything you can think of: salads, and ice-cream, andboned turkey, and all those things. Perfectly fine, it was! Everybodyate till they couldn't hardly move; it was alegant!"
"Didn't you do anything but just gob--I mean eat?" asked Mary.
"Oh, there was a band of music, of course; and we walked about some,and looked at the dresses. They were perfectly alegant! I wore achangeable taffeta, blue and red, and a red hat with blue birds in it.Everybody said it was just as cute! The reporter for the 'MorningHowl' was there, and he said it was the handsomest costume at thepicnic. He was a perfect gentleman, and everything I had on was in thepaper next day."
"This is soul-stirring," said Tom (who did sometimes show that he wasfifteen, though not often), "but didn't I hear something abouttoasts?"
Clarice looked vexed, but Mary took up the word eagerly. "Yes, to besure, Tom; it is quite time for toasts. Fill the glasses again, Teddy!Clarice, you are the guest of honor; will you give the first toast?"
Clarice shook her head, and muttered something about not caring forgames.
"Then I will!" cried Sue; and she stood up, her eyes sparkling.
"I drink to Clarice!" she said. "I hope she will grow strong, andnever have any heart again,--I mean any pain in it,--and that shewill stay here a long, long time, till she grows up!"
Teddy choked over his glass, but the others said "Clarice!" rathersoberly, and clinked their glasses together. Clarice, called upon fora speech in response to the toast, simpered, and said that Sue was tooperfectly sweet for anything, but could t
hink of nothing more. ThenTom was called upon. He rose slowly, and lifted his glass.
"I drink to the health of Quicksilver Sue! May she shun the false, and seek the true!"
Mary gave him a warning glance, but Sue was enchanted. "Oh, Tom, howdear of you to make it in poetry!" she cried, flushing with pleasure."Wait; wait just a minute, and I'll make my speech."
She stood silent, holding up her glass, in which the sunbeamssparkled, turning the liquid to molten rubies; then she said rathershyly:
"I drink to Tom, the manly Hart, And wish him all the poet's art!"
This was received with great applause.
Mary's turn came next; but before she could speak, Clarice had sprungto her feet with a wild shriek. "A snake!" she cried; "a snake! I sawit! It ran close by my foot. Oh, I shall faint!"
Teddy clapped his hand to his pocket, and looked shamefaced.
"I thought I had buttoned him in safe," he said. "I'm awfully sorry.The other one is in there all right; it was only the little one thatgot out."
But this was too much for Clarice. She declared that she must go homethat instant; and after an outcry from Sue no one opposed her. Thebaskets were collected, the crumbs scattered for the birds, and theparty started for home. Mary and her brothers led the way with Lily,Sue and Clarice following slowly behind with arms intertwined. Sue'sface was a study of puzzled regret, self-reproach, and affection.
"Mary," said Tom.
"Hush, Tom!" said Mary, with a glance over her shoulder. "Don't sayanything till we get home."
"I'm not going to say anything. But what famous book--the name of it,I mean--expresses what has been the matter with this picnic?"
"Oh, I don't know, Tom. 'Much Ado about Nothing'?"
"No," said Tom. "It's 'Ben Hur'!"