The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe: or, There's No Place Like Home. Douglas Amanda M.
the brood met with a mishap, but the other ten throve and grew rapidly. By the time the next hen wanted to set, Hal had a dozen eggs saved.
He asked Farmer Peters about the lot. It was just below their house, between that and the creek, a strip of an acre and a half perhaps. The old trees were not worth much, to be sure; and Mr. Peters never troubled himself to cultivate the plot, as it was accounted very poor.
"Yes, you may have it in welcome; but you won't git enough off of it to pay for the ploughin'?"
"I'm going to raise chickens; and I thought it would be nice to sow buckwheat, and let them run in it."
"Turnin' farmer, hey? 'Pears to me you're makin' an airly beginnin'."
Hal smiled pleasantly.
"You'll find chickens an awful sight o' bother."
"I thought I'd try them."
"Goin' to garden any?"
"A little."
"Hens and gardens are about like fox an' geese. One's death on the other. But you kin have the lot."
So Hal asked Abel Kinsey to come over and plough. In return he helped plant potatoes and drop corn for two Saturdays. By this time there was a third hen setting.
House-cleaning had come on, and Granny was pretty busy. But she and Hal were up early in the morning garden-making. The plot belonging to the cottage was about two acres. Hal removed his chicken-coops to the lot, and covered his young vegetables with brush to protect them from incursions, – pease, beans, lettuce, beets, and sweet-corn; and the rest was given over to the chickens.
"I am going to keep an account of all that is spent for them," he said; "and we will see if we can make it pay."
When Joe had saved three dollars, he teased Granny to let him order his clothes.
"I don't like running in debt, Joe," she said with a grave shake of the head.
"But this is very sure. Mr. Terry likes me, and I shall go on staying. There will be four dollars and a half to pay down by the time they are done, and in five weeks I can earn the rest."
"How nice it seems!" said Hal. "You and Flo earn a deal of money."
Flo gave a small sniff. She wanted some new clothes also. And Kit and Charlie were going to shreds and patches. Charlie, indeed, was shooting up like Jack's bean-stalk, Joe declared, being nearly as tall as Hal. She was wild as a colt, climbed trees, jumped fences, and wouldn't be dared by any of the boys.
"I'm sure I don't know what you'll come to," Granny would say with a sigh.
Joe carried his point, and ordered his clothes; for he insisted that he could not think of going to Sunday school until he had them. It was quite an era in his life to have real store clothes. He felt very grand one day when he went to Mr. Briggs the tailor, and selected the cloth. There were several different patterns and colors; but he had made up his mind that it should be gray, just like Archie Palmer's.
He was so dreadfully afraid of being disappointed, that he dropped in on Friday to see if they were progressing. There was the jacket in the highest state of perfection.
"But the pants?" he questioned.
"Never you mind. Them pants'll be done as sure as my name's Peter Briggs."
"All right," said Joe; and he ran on his way whistling.
"Kit," he announced that evening, "I've just found out a good business for you."
"What?" and Kit roused himself.
"You shall be a tailor. I was thinking to-day how you would look on the board, with your scalp-lock nodding to every stitch."
"I won't," said Kit stoutly; and he gave a kick towards Joe's leg.
"It's a good business. You will always have plenty of cabbage."
"You better stop!" declared Kit.
"It will be handy to have him in the house, Granny. He can do the ironing by odd spells. And on the subject of mending old clothes he will be lovely."
With that Kit made another dive.
Granny gave a sudden spring, and rescued the earthen jar that held the cakes she had just mixed and set upon the stove-hearth.
"O Kit! Those precious pancakes! We are not anxious to have them flavored with extract of old shoes."
"Nor to go wandering over the floor."
Kit looked sober and but half-awake.
"Never mind," said Granny cheerily. "You mustn't tease him so much, Joe."
"Why, I was only setting before him the peculiar advantages of this romantic and delightful employment;" and with that, Joe executed a superior double-shuffle quickstep, accompanied by slapping a tune on his knee.
"You'd do for a minstrel," said Kit.
Joe cleared his voice with a flourish, and sang out, —
"I'd be a tailor,
Jolly and free,
With plenty of cabbage,
And a goose on my knee.
Monday would be blue,
Tuesday would be shady,
Wednesday I'd set out
To find a pretty lady."
"Much work you would do in that case," commented Florence.
"It's time to go to bed, children," said Granny.
"Yes," Joe went on gravely. "For a rising young man, who must take time by the fore-lock, or scalp-lock, and who longs to distinguish himself by some great and wonderful discovery, there's nothing like, —
'Early to bed, and early to rise,
To make a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.'"
With that Joe was up stairs with a bound.
"Joe!" Charlie called in great earnest.
"Well?"
"You better take a mouthful of Granny's rising before you go."
"Good for you, Charlie; but smart children always die young. Granny, won't you put a stone on Charlie's head for fear?"
Hal said his good-night in a tenderer manner.
They were all wonderfully interested in Joe's clothes; and, though it was always later on Saturday night when he reached home, they begged to sit up, but Kit took a nap by the chimney-corner with Tabby. Granny sat nodding when they heard the gay whistle without.
"Hurrah! The country's safe!" exclaimed Joe. "Get out your spectacles, all hands."
"You act as if you never had any thing before, Joe," said Florence, with an air of extreme dignity.
"But these are real 'boughten' clothes," said Joe, "and gilt buttons down the jacket. I shall feel like a soldier-boy. Just look now."
The bundle came open with a flourish of the jack-knife. All the heads crowded round, though the one candle gave a rather dim light.
Such exclamations as sounded through the little room, from every voice, and in almost every key.
"But where are the trousers?" asked Hal.
"The trousers? – why" —
Granny held up the beautiful jacket. There was nothing else in the paper.
"Why – he's made a mistake. He never put them in, I am sure."
"You couldn't have lost 'em?" asked Granny mildly.
"Lost them – and the bundle tied with this strong twine! Now, that's mean! I'll have to run right back."
Off went Joe like a flash. He hardly drew a breath until his hand was on Mr. Brigg's door-knob.
"Well, what now, Joe?" asked the astonished Mr. Briggs.
"You didn't put in the trousers!"
"Didn't? Dan done 'em up. Dan!"
Dan