CHAPTER XII
A PICNIC WITH AGAMEMNON
"You see, gals, Agamemnon's been the most unlucky bird that ever washatched," said the little old woman, coming across the tiny lawn tothe fence where the Corner House girls were staring, round-eyed, atthe strange apparition of a rooster in a red-flannel sleeping-suit.
"But he's the pluckiest! Yes, ma'am! He was only a pindling critterwhen he pipped the shell, an' the vi-cis-_si_-tudes that bird's beenthrough since he fust scratched would ha' made a human lay right downand die.
"The other chickens never would let him raise a pin-feather ter coverhis nakedness; they picked on him suthin' _awful_. I shet him up tillhis wings and tail growed, an' a rat got in an' gnawed the feathersright off him in one night; but Agamemnon picked and clawed so't theold rat didn't bleed him much.
"And now here, lately, a neighbor got a half-breed game rooster, an'thet pesky fightin' bird got down here an' sasses Agamemnon on his ownpremises.
"Ag wouldn't stand for that," said the old lady, her blue eyes fairlycrackling. "He sailed right inter that game chicken--an' NeighborLincoln et his rooster the nex' Sunday for dinner. 'Twas all he coulddo with the critter after Agamemnon got through with him.
"But that game rooster had tore ev'ry _important_ feather off'n poorAgamemnon's carcass. I had to do suthin'. 'Twarn't decent for him togo 'round bare. So I made him that smock out of one o' poor Eddie'sold shirts. And there ye be!" she finished breathlessly, smilingbroadly upon the interested Corner House girls.
"I guess you are Mrs. Bobster?" asked Ruth, smiling in return.
"Are you _really_ the--the lady who lives in the shoe?" asked Dot,round-eyed.
"That's what they call me, pet," said Mrs. Bobster, smiling at thesmallest Kenway. "I'm the only little old woman who lives in _this_shoe. Poor Eddie thought we'd make a mint of money if we built overthe top of our house like that, and I sold gingercakes and sweeties tothe children who came down here to the beach. Eddie was allus mightysmart in thinkin' up schemes for me to make money. But the BeachCompany went up in smoke, as the sayin' is; so we didn't make ourfortun' after all."
She laughed. Indeed, this little, apple-faced old lady was almostalways laughing, it seemed.
"Poor Eddie!" she added. "I guess the Beach Company failin' took aboutall the tuck out o' him. He said himself it was the last straw on thecamel's back. He jest settled right down inter his chair, like; and hedidn't last that winter out. He was allus weakly, Eddie was."
The Corner House girls knew she must be speaking of her husband. Sonow she was all alone in the house that had such a grotesque upperstory.
"No. There ain't no children here--only them that comes in to see me,"Mrs. Bobster said in answer to a question from Tess. "We never didhave no children; but we allus loved 'em."
Meanwhile she had opened the gate and invited the Corner House girlsinto the yard. There was an arbor which was already shaded byquick-growing vines. The little kitchen garden, with its border ofgooseberries and currants, was as neat as it could be.
"I gotter cow of my own out back, and hens, too. I make a bare livin'in winter, and put frills onto it in summer," and the old ladylaughed. "These folks from the city that come livin' in tents here,like my bread and cookies."
"That is what we have come to arrange for, Mrs. Bobster," said Ruth.
"I dunno. Most all I can comferbly bake three times a week, isbespoke," said the little old woman who lived in a shoe. "How many isthere in your fam'bly, Miss?"
When she heard that there were just four of them--these girlsalone--and that they were to live by themselves in a tent, she grewgreatly interested.
"Surely I'll bake for you--and cookies, too. Maybe a fruit pie oncetin a while--'specially if you'll go over beyond the bend when berriesis ripe and pick 'em yourself. And you gals a-livin' all alone? Sho!I'd think you'd be scaret to death."
"Why, no!" said Ruth. "Why should we?"
"After dark," said the old woman, shaking her hand.
"Who would hurt us?" asked the Corner House girl in wonder.
"Can't most always sometimes tell," said the old woman, shaking herhead.
"But _you_ live here alone!"
"No," she said, quickly. "Not after dark. I ain't never alone. Oh,no!"
She spoke as though she were afraid Ruth might not believe her, andrepeated the denial several times.
Tess and Dot were very anxious to go upstairs and see the rooms in the"shoe," and they made the request to Ruth in an audible whisper.
"For sure!" cried Mrs. Bobster. "All the children that come here wantto go upstairs. If I had 'em of my own, that's where I'd put 'em allto bed after I'd fed 'em bread and 'whipped 'em all soundly,'" and shelaughed.
"I don't believe you'd have whipped the children, if you'd been thereally truly little old woman that lived in the shoe," quoth Dot,putting a confiding hand into the apple-faced lady's hard palm.
"I bet _you_ wouldn't have had to be whipped," laughed Mrs. Bobster,leading Dot away, with Tess following.
Later the hostess of the shoe-house brought out a pitcher of milk andglasses with a heaping plate of ginger cookies--the old-fashioned kindthat just _melt_ on your tongue!
"Sho!" she said, when Ruth praised them. "It's easy enough to makegood merlasses cookies. But ye don't wanter have no conscience when itcomes to butter--no, indeed!"
Agamemnon came to the feast. In his ridiculous red flannel suit hewaddled up to his mistress and pecked crumbs off her lap when she satdown on the bench in the arbor.
"He looks just like a person ready to go in swimming," chuckled Agnes."It's a red bathing suit."
"That's one thing Agamemnon can't stand. He don't like water," saidMrs. Bobster. "But if I let him out at low tide he'll beau a flock ofhens right down to the clamflats. But now, poor thing! they won't gowith him."
"Who--the hens!" asked Ruth, wonderingly.
"Yes. They don't think he looks jest right, I s'pose. If he chasses upto one of my old biddies, she tries to tear that flannel suit rightoff'n him. It's hard on poor Agamemnon; but until his feathers startto grow good again, I don't dare have him go without it. He'd gitsunburned like a brick, in the fust place."
This tickled Agnes so that she almost fell off the bench.
"But I should think the red flannel would tickle him awfully,"murmured Tess, quite seriously disturbed over the plight of therooster.
"Sho! keeps away rheumatics. So poor Eddie allus said," declared thewidow. "That's why he wore red flannel for forty year--and he neverhad a mite of rheumatism. Agamemnon ought to be satisfied he's alive,after all he's been through."
It was really very funny to see the rooster strutting about the yardin what Agnes called his red bathing suit.
The Corner House girls remained for some time with Mrs. Bobster. Whenthey went back to the camp at the bend they carried their first supplyof bread and cookies.
They arrived at their tent to find a wagonette Pearl had hired in theport, and all the other girls who had been at the Spoondrift bungalowhad come visiting.
The crowd was delighted with the way Ruth and her sisters weresituated. It looked as though to live under canvas would be great funindeed.
"Wish I'd spoken to Uncle Phil about it, and gotten him to hire tentsinstead of putting us up at that old hotel," declared Pearl. "And doyou know, girls, that Trix Severn told a story?"
"I didn't suppose she'd be above being untruthful," Ruth said, ratherindignantly.
"And you're quite right. We found out that her father set aside a big,double-bedded room for you four girls. Trix says she did not knowanything about it. But of course Uncle Phil would not have forgottenyou."
"Never mind," said Agnes. "I'm glad she acted so. We're a whole lotbetter off here."
"I believe you!" said Carrie Poole.
"You going to have Rosa Wildwood here in the tent with you when shecomes?" asked Ann Presby.
"I'm afraid she ought to have a better place," said Ruth. "And Ibelieve I know just where she would
get the attention--and food--thatshe needs," and the oldest Corner House girl told the crowd about Mrs.Bobster--the little old lady who lived in a shoe.
"If I can get the dear old thing to take Rosa to board, I know she'llgive her just what she needs--good food, plenty of it, well cooked,and Rosa will be in a quiet place where she can rest all she wantsto," said Ruth.
She had no idea at the time of the strange adventure that would ariseout of this plan of hers to bring Rosa Wildwood to stay for a part ofthe summer with the little old woman who lived in a shoe.