CHAPTER XIII
THE BOAT CARNIVAL
"It didn't seem right to take all this milk," remarked Hal, as thethree boys made their way in the dark, along the ocean road.
"But we would have offended the lady had we refused," said Harry."Besides, we may be able to get her good customers by giving out thesamples," he went on. "I'm sure it is good milk, for the place wasclean, and that cow we found, or that found us, was a real Jersey."
The other boys did not attempt to question Harry's right to giveexpert views where cows and milk were concerned; so they made theirway along without further comment.
"I suppose our folks will think we are lost," ventured Hal.
"Then they will think right," admitted Bert, "for that was just whatwe were, lost."
Crossing the bridge, the boys could hear voices.
"That's father," declared Hal. Then they listened.
"And that's Uncle William," said Bert, as another voice reached them.
"Gracious! I'm sorry this happened the first day I came," spoke upHarry, realizing that the other boys would not have gone into the deepwoods if he had not acted as leader.
"Here we are!" called Hal.
"Hello there! That you, Hal?" came a call.
"Yes; we're coming," Hal answered, and the lost boys quickened theirsteps, as much as the pails of milk allowed.
Presently Uncle William and Mr. Bingham came up, and were so glad tofind that Hal, Harry, and Bert were safe, they scarcely required anyexplanation for the delay in getting home. Of course, both men hadbeen boys themselves, and well remembered how easy it was to get lost,and be late reaching home.
The milk pails, too, bore out the boys' story, had there been anydoubt about it, but beyond a word of caution about dangerous places indeep woodlands there was not a harsh word spoken.
A little farther on the road home, Dorothy, Nan, and Nellie met thewanderers, and then the woodland escapade seemed a wild tale aboutbears, Indians, and even witches, for each girl added, to the boys'story, so much of her own imagination that the dark night and theroaring of the ocean, finished up a very wild picture, indeed.
"Now, you are real heroes," answered Dorothy, "and you are the bravestboys I know. I wish I had been along. Just think of sitting by acampfire in a dark woods, and having no one to bring you home but apoor little cow!" and Dorothy insisted on carrying Bert's milk pail toshow her respect for a real hero.
Even Dinah and Susan did not complain about serving a late dinner tothe boys, and both maids said they had never before seen suchperfectly splendid milk as came from the farmhouse.
"We really might take some extra milk from that farm," said AuntEmily, "for what we get is nothing like as rich in cream as this is."
So, as Harry said, the sample brought good results, for on thefollowing morning, when the man called for the empty pail, Susanordered two quarts a day, besides some fresh eggs and new butter to bedelivered twice a week.
"Do you know," said Uncle William to Mrs. Bobbsey next morning atbreakfast, when the children had left the table, "Mr. Bingham wastelling me last night that his brother is at sea, on just such avoyage as little Nellie's father went on. And a man named McLaughlinwent with him, too. Now, that's Nellie's name, and I believe GeorgeBingham is the very man he went with."
"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. "And have they heard anynews from Mr. Bingham's brother?"
"Nothing very definite, but a vessel sighted the schooner ten daysago. Mr. Bingham has no idea his brother is lost, as he is anexperienced seaman, and the Binghams are positive it is only a matterof the schooner being disabled, and the crew having a hard time toreach port," replied Mr. Minturn.
"If Nellie's mother only knew that," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Tell you what I'll do," said the brother-in-law; "just give meMrs. McLaughlin's address, and I'll go to see her to-day while I'm intown. Then I can find out whether we have the right man in mind ornot."
Of course, nothing was said to Nellie about the clew to her father'swhereabouts, but Mrs. Bobbsey and Aunt Emily were quite excited overit, for they were very fond of Nellie, and besides, had visited hermother and knew of the poor woman's distress.
"If it only could be true that the vessel is trying to get into port,"reflected Mrs. Bobbsey. "Surely, there would be enough help along thecoast to save the crew."
While this very serious matter was occupying the attention of thegrown-up folks, the children were all enthusiasm over the watercarnival, coming off that afternoon.
Hal and Bert were dressed like real Indians, and were to paddle inHal's canoe, while Harry was fixed up like a student, a Frenchexplorer, and he was to row alone in Hal's father's boat, to representFather Marquette, the discoverer of the upper Mississippi River.
It was quite simple to make Harry look like the famous discoverer, forhe was tall and dark, and the robes were easily arranged with Susan'sblack shawl, a rough cord binding it about his waist. Uncle William'straveling cap answered perfectly for the French skullcap.
"Then I'm going to be Pocahontas," insisted Dorothy, as the boys'costumes brought her mind back to Colonial days.
"Oh, no," objected Hal, "you girls better take another period ofhistory. We can't all be Indians."
"Well, I'll never be a Puritan, not even for fun," declared Dorothy,whose spirit of frolic was certainly quite opposite that of aPriscilla.
"Who was some famous girl or woman in American history?" asked Harry,glad to get a chance to "stick" Dorothy.
"Oh, there are lots of them," answered the girl, promptly. "Don'tthink that men were the only people in America who did anything worthwhile."
"Then be one that you particularly admire," teased Harry, knowing verywell Dorothy could not, at that minute, name a single character shewould care to impersonate.
"Oh, let us be real," suggested Nellie. "Everybody will be allmake-believe. I saw lots of people getting ready, and I'm sure theywill all look like Christmas-tree things, tinsel and paper and coloredstuffs."
"What would be real?', questioned Dorothy.
"Well, the Fisherman's Daughters," Nellie said, very slowly. "We havea picture at home of two little girls waiting--for their--father."
The boys noticed Nellie's manner, and knew why she hesitated. Surelyit would be real for her to be a fisherman's daughter, waiting for herfather!
"Oh, good!" said Dorothy. "I've got that picture in a book, and wecan copy it exactly. You and I can be in a boat alone. I can row."
"You had better have a line to my boat," suggested Harry. "It wouldbe safer in the crowd."
It had already been decided that Flossie, Freddie, and Nan should goin the Minturn launch, that was made up to look like a Venetiangondola. Mrs. Bobbsey and Aunt Emily and Aunt Sarah were to beItalian ladies, not that they cared to be in the boat parade, butbecause Aunt Emily, being one of the cottagers, felt obliged toencourage the social features of the little colony.
It was quite extraordinary how quickly and how well Dorothy managed toget up her costume and Nellie's. Of course, the boys were wonderfulIndians, and Harry a splendid Frenchman; Mrs. Bobbsey, Aunt Sarah, andAunt Emily only had to add lace headpieces to their brightest dinnergowns to be like the showy Italians, while Freddie looked like alittle prince in his black velvet suit, with Flossie's red sash tiedfrom shoulder to waist, in gay court fashion. Flossie wore the pinkslip that belonged under her lace dress, and on her head was a silkhandkerchief pinned up at the ends, in that square quaint fashion oflittle ladies of Venice.
There were to be prizes, of course, for the best costumes andprettiest boats, and the judges' stand was a very showy affair, builtat the bridge end of the lake.
There was plenty of excitement getting ready, but finally all handswere dressed, and the music from the lake told our friends theprocession was already lining up.
Mrs. Minturn's launch was given second place, just back of theMayor's, and Mrs. Bingham's launch, fixed up to represent anautomobile, came next. Then, ther
e were all kinds of boats, some madeto represent impossible things, like big swans, eagles, and one evenhad a lot of colored ropes flying about it, while an automobile lamp,fixed up in a great paper head, was intended to look like a monstersea-serpent, the ropes being its fangs. By cutting out a queer facein the paper over the lighted lamp the eyes blazed, of course, whilethe mouth was red, and wide open, and there were horns, too, made oftwisted pieces of tin, so that altogether the sea-serpent looked veryfierce, indeed.
The larger boats were expected to be very fine, so that as theprocession passed along the little lake the steam launches did notbring out much cheering from the crowd. But now the single boats werecoming.
"Father Marquette!" cried the people, instantly recognizing thehistoric figure Harry represented.
So slowly his boat came along, and so solemn he looked!
Then, as he reached the judges' stand, he stood up, put his hand overhis eyes, looking off in the distance, exactly like the picture of thefamous French explorer.
This brought out long and loud cheering, and really Harry deserved it,for he not only looked like, but really acted, the character.
There were a few more small boats next. In one the summer girl wasall lace and parasol, in another there was a rude fisherman, then;some boys were dressed to look like dandies, and they seemed to enjoythemselves more than did the people looking at them. There was also acraft fixed up to look like a small gunboat.
Hal and Bert then paddled along.
They were perfect Indians, even having their faces browned with darkpowder. Susan's feather duster had been dissected to make up theboys' headgear, and two overall suits, with jumpers, had been slashedto pieces to make the Indian suits. The canoe, of course, made agreat stir.
"Who are they?" everybody wanted to know. But no one could guess.
"Oh, look at this!" called the people, as an old boat with two littlegirls drifted along.
The Fisherman's Daughters!
Perhaps it was because there was so much gayety around that theselittle girls looked so real. From the side of their weather-beatenboat dragged an old fishnet. Each girl had on her head a queerhalf-hood, black, and from under this Nellie's brown hair fell intangles on her bare shoulders, and Dorothy's beautiful yellow ringletsframed in her own pretty face. The children wore queer bodices, likethose seen in pictures of Dutch girls, and full skirts of dark stufffinished out their costumes.
As they sat in the boat and looked out to sea, "watching for thefisherman's return," their attitude and pose were perfect.
The people did not even cheer. They seemed spellbound.
"That child is an actress," they said, noting the "real" look onNellie's face. But Nellie was not acting. She was waiting for thelost father at sea.
When would he come back to her?