Natalie: A Garden Scout. Roy Lillian Elizabeth
anything, but I do, Natalie.” Mrs. James spoke gently. “I spent a few years of my early married life on a lovely farm near Philadelphia, dear, and there is not very much that I did not learn while there. To make a success of the investment, I found I had to take hold, personally, and not only supervise the work, but know how to do it, and to do it if occasion demanded it of me.”
“Now it will just come in fine for Nat, won’t it?” declared Janet, enthusiastically. Mrs. James and the teacher laughed appreciatively at the remark.
“Do tell us, Jimmy, – did Mr. Marvin say he would try to meet us at Green Hill?” asked Natalie, as the car started.
“Yes, he said he would try to get an old friend to accompany him. He was not sure that she could get away, but he proposed trying to coax her to do so.”
“Is it an old friend of his?” asked Natalie.
“Yes, a friend of many years’ standing,” replied Mrs. James, smiling down at her idle hands.
“Do you know her?” continued Natalie, seeing the smile.
“Oh yes, – very well indeed!”
“Do I know her, too?”
“Yes, you know her.”
“Maybe we all know her, – do we?” asked Janet suddenly.
“Yes, – you all know her,” laughed Mrs. James.
“Who can it be?” exclaimed several voices, but Janet tossed her head and smiled knowingly at Mrs. James. The latter placed a finger on her lips for secrecy, and Janet nodded.
Many guesses were given but no one thought of the right name, and Mrs. James refused to divulge the secret. Then so many interesting sights were seen, as they drove swiftly along the Boulevard that runs through the Bronx Parkway and northwards through the pretty country section of Westchester, that the old friend who was to join them later at Green Hill Farm was eclipsed.
After a pleasant drive of less than an hour, Miss Mason turned off the Central Avenue road and followed a cross-country road that ran through the village where the farmers of that part of the country did their shopping and got their mail.
“If this is a village, where are the stores?” asked Natalie.
“I see it!” exclaimed Mrs. James.
“Oh, I see a little house with a few brooms standing on the front stoop. A sign swinging over the door says ‘Post Office,’ – but you don’t mean to say that is our only shop?” laughed Natalie, as she jeered at the general country store.
“That is the ‘Emporium’ for Green Hill,” said Mrs. James.
“No wonder, then, that we’ll have to raise our own food and other necessities,” retorted Natalie humorously.
The girls laughed, for truly the small store had amused them. New York stores were so different!
A mile further on, Mrs. James called to Miss Mason: “We are almost there now. It is the first house on the right-hand side of the road. You can see the towering trees of the front lawn from here.”
Instantly every pair of eyes looked eagerly down the road and saw the fine big trees mentioned by Mrs. James. In a few minutes more the car was near enough to permit everyone to glimpse the house.
“Jimmy was right! It is an old peach of a place!” declared Natalie delightedly, as she took in the picture at a glance.
“Oh!” exclaimed Miss Mason. “What a treasure, Natalie! Genuine old Colonial, Mrs. James. I shouldn’t wonder if it stood when Washington led his army across this land to reach Dobb’s Ferry. Even the old hand-made shingles are still siding the house.”
“Yes, I heard it was a Revolutionary relic that was as well preserved as any house around here. You see the fine old front entrance? With its half-moon window over the door and the hood for protection from storms? Even the old stoop and the two seats flanking the door, on each side, are the old ones.”
“Dear me! To think this gem has been Natalie’s right along, and no one knew of it!” cried Belle, who loved antiques and vowed she was going to be a collector some day.
“Not that alone, Belle, but think how Nat balked at coming here to spend this summer!” laughed Janet.
“Well, but – I hadn’t an idea of what it was like,” said Natalie apologetically.
“The Law that is the basis of all national laws, says ‘Ignorance of the Law is no excuse for a criminal,’” quoted Miss Mason, smiling at Natalie.
“But, now, once I’ve seen it, I will confess I like it,” Natalie admitted.
Miss Mason now drove the car through the gate which Norma had opened, and the automobile drew up to the side door where a long piazza ran the length of the wing. The moment the car stopped the girls sprang out in haste, to run about and see the place. But Natalie stood still on the lowest step of the piazza and gazed in at an open door.
“Someone’s here!” whispered she to her friends.
Before anyone could reply, a buxom form filled the doorway and a wide grin almost cleft Rachel’s face in half. She held out both hands to Natalie, and her expression signified a welcome to her “Honey-Chile.”
“Why! Rachie! How did you get here? I left you at home!” exclaimed Natalie, not certain whether it was flesh and blood she saw, or a phantom.
“Diden I come by a short cut, Honey, an’ wa’n’t it a good joke on you-all to beat you to dis fahm!” laughed Rachel, delighting in the mystery.
“Oh, now I know! It was Rachel who is our friend, eh?” shouted Natalie, clapping her hands.
“Shore! Mr. Marwin done brung me in his speeder by d’ Hudson Riber Turnpike. We turned offen d’ main road afore we come t’ Dobb’s Ferry. Jus’ d’ udder side f’om Yonkers. Dat’s how we come so quick,” explained Rachel.
“Where is he? I want to thank him, Rachel!” cried Natalie, gratitude uppermost in her thought just then.
“You won’t have far to go to find me,” laughed a genial voice, and everyone turned to see Mr. Marvin standing behind them.
Then followed a visit indoors, with Mr. Marvin acting as guide from attic to cellar, and his party stringing out behind. Some loitered in a room, and then ran to catch up with the main guard. Or some lingered to admire a view or interesting object in the house, and hurried after the others later, for fear of missing something worth while.
The main hall ran from front to rear of the house, cutting it in half. On one side of the wide hallway was a “front parlor,” and back of it the back-parlor, or “settin’-room,” as the farmers called it. Across the hall was the dining-room and pantry, and leading from the pantry was the kitchen. These rooms were so spacious that Janet laughingly remarked: “Our entire apartment would go in one room.”
“Look at the wonderful fireplaces!” exclaimed Belle.
“My! One can throw a log three feet long on the fire and not strike either side of the chimney,” added Frances.
“Girls! Just see the funny little cupboards built in on each side of the chimney-facing,” called Norma, opening one of the panels that fitted snugly to the bricks.
Everyone called attention to a different discovery. Janet laughed at the small wavy-glass window panes, that twisted the scene outdoors into grotesque views. Natalie marvelled at the great dark beams overhead that were not only hand-hewn from the timber, but also hand-planed. Mr. Marvin drew attention to the wooden pegs used in the corners of these beams, and the crude nails that a Colonial blacksmith had beaten into a form that could be used by the home-builder of the house.
“It is all so wonderful, Natalie, it seems like a dream!” exclaimed Miss Mason, delighted beyond words.
“Look at the heavy planks in the floors!” said Belle.
“Yes, even the wood in the floors is hand-sawn and smoothed down by