The Corner House Girls on a Houseboat. Hill Grace Brooks
House Girls.”
There was Ruth, the oldest and the “little mother,” though she was not so very little now. In fact she had blossomed into a young lady, a fact of which Mr. Howbridge became increasingly aware each day.
So the four girls had come to live at the Corner House, and that was only the beginning of their adventures. In successive volumes are related the happenings when they went to school, when they had a jolly time under canvas, and when they took part in a school play.
The odd find made in the garret of the Corner House furnished material for a book in itself and paved the way for a rather remarkable tour in an auto.
In those days the Corner House girls became acquainted with a brother and sister, Luke and Cecile Shepard. Luke was a college youth, and the friendship between him and Ruth presently ripened into a deep regard for each other. But Luke had to go back to college, so Ruth saw very little of him, though the young folks corresponded freely.
All this was while the Corner House girls were “growing up.” In fact, it became necessary to tell of that in detail, so that the reason for many things that happened in the book immediately preceding this, which is called “The Corner House Girls Snowbound,” could be understood.
In that volume the Corner House girls become involved in the mysterious disappearance of two small twins, and after many exciting days spent in the vicinity of a lumber camp a clue to the mystery was hit upon.
But now the memory of the blizzard days spent in the old Lodge were forgotten. For summer had come, bringing with it new problems, not the least of which was to find a place where vacation days might be spent.
Ruth proposed to speak of that when her guardian called this Saturday afternoon. As she had hinted to Agnes, Ruth had invited a number of girl friends to luncheon. It was the plan to form a sort of young people’s Civic Club, to take up several town matters, and Ruth was the moving spirit in this, for she loved to work toward some definite end.
This Saturday was no exception in being a busy one at the Corner House.
In pursuance of her plans she had enlisted the whole household in preparing for the event, from Mrs. MacCall, who looked after matters in general, Linda, who helped with the baking, Uncle Rufus, who was cleaning the lawn, down to Dot and Tess, who had been sent for flowers.
And then had come the bribing of Dot and Tess to go to the store and, following that, the crash.
“What can it be?” murmured Ruth, as she and Agnes hastened on. “Some one surely must be hurt.”
“I hope not,” half whispered Agnes.
From the side porch came the sound of childish anguish.
“She’s all flatted out, that’s what she is! She’s all flatted out, my Alice-doll is, and it’s all your fault, Tess Kenway! Why didn’t you hold the barrel?”
“I couldn’t, I told you! It just rolled and it rolled. It’s a good thing it didn’t roll on Almira!”
“Gracious! did you hear that?” cried Agnes. “What can they have been doing?”
The two older sisters reached the porch together, there to find Mrs. MacCall holding to Tess, whom she was brushing off and murmuring to in a low voice, filled with much Scotch burring.
Dot stood at the foot of the steps holding a rather crushed doll out at arm’s length, for all who would to view. And stalking off over the lawn was Almira, the cat, carrying in her mouth a wee kitten. Uncle Rufus was hobbling toward the scene of the excitement as fast as his rheumatism would allow. Scattered on the ground at the foot of the steps was a collection of odds and ends – “trash” Uncle Rufus called it. The trash had come from an overturned barrel, and it was this barrel rolling down the steps and off the porch that had caused the noise.
“What happened?” demanded Ruth, breathing more easily when she saw that the casualty list was confined to the doll.
“It was Tess,” declared Dot. “She tipped the barrel over and it rolled on my Alice-doll and now look at her.”
Dot referred to the doll, not to her sister, though Tess was rather a sight, for she was covered with feathers from an old pillow that had been thrown into the barrel and had burst open during the progress of the accident.
At first Tess had been rather inclined to cry, but finding, to her great relief, that she was unhurt, she changed her threatened tears into laughter and said:
“Ain’t I funny looking? Just like a duck!”
“What were you trying to do, children?” asked Ruth, trying to speak rather severely in her capacity as “mother.”
“I was trying to put Almira and one of her kittens into the barrel,” explained Tess, now that Mrs. MacCall had got off most of the feathers. “I leaned over to put Almira in the barrel, soft and easy like, down on the other pillow, and it upset – I mean the barrel did. It began to roll, and I couldn’t stop it and it rolled right off the porch and – ”
“Right over my Alice-doll it rolled, and she’s all squashed!” voiced Dot.
“Oh, be quiet! She isn’t hurt a bit,” cried Tess. “Her nose was flat, anyhow.”
“Did the barrel roll over you?” asked Agnes, smiling now.
“Almost,” said Tess. “But I got out of the way in time, and Almira grabbed up her kitten and ran. Where is she?” she asked.
“Never mind the cat,” advised Ruth. “She’s caused enough excitement for one Saturday morning. Why were you putting her in the barrel, anyhow, Tess?”
“So I’d know where she was when I came back. I wanted her and one kitten to play with if Dot is going to play with her Alice-doll when we get back from the store. But I guess I leaned too far over.”
“I guess you did,” assented Ruth. “Well, I’m glad it was no worse. Is your doll much damaged, Dot?”
“Maybe I can put a little more sawdust or some rags in her and stuff her out. But she’s awful flat. And look at her nose!”
“Her nose was flat, anyhow, before the barrel rolled over her,” said Tess. “But I’m sorry it happened. I guess Almira was scared.”
“We were all frightened,” said Ruth. “It was a terrible racket. Now let the poor cat alone, and run along to the store. Oh, what a mess this is,” and she looked at the refuse scattered from the trash barrel. “And just when I want things to look nice for the girls. It always seems to happen that way!”
Uncle Rufus shuffled along.
“Doan you-all worry now, honey,” he said, speaking to all the girls as one. “I’ll clean up dish yeah trash in no time. I done got de lawn like a billiard table, an’ I’ll pick up dish yeah trash. De ash man ought to have been along early dis mawnin’ fo’ to get it. I set it dar fo’ him.”
That explained the presence on the side porch of the barrel of odds and ends collected for the ash man to remove. He had not called, and seeing the receptacle there, with an old feather pillow among the other refuse, Tess thought she had her opportunity.
“Run along now, my bonny bairns! Run along!” counseled the old Scotch woman. “’Tis late it’s getting, and the lassies will be here to lunch before we know it.”
“Yes, do run along,” begged Ruth. “And then come back to be washed and have your hair combed. I want you to look nice if, accidentally, you appear on the scene.”
Thus bidden, and fortified with another cookie each, Tess and Dot hurried on to the store, Dot tenderly trying to pinch into shape the flattened nose of her Alice-doll.
Rufus got a broom and began to clean the scattered trash to put back into the barrel, and Mrs. MacCall hurried into her kitchen, where Linda was humming a Finnish song as she clattered amid the pots and pans.
“Oh, we must finish the parlor and library,” declared Ruth. “Do come and help, Agnes.”
“Coming, Ruth. Oh, here’s Neale!” she