The Bobbsey Twins MEGAPACK ®. Laura Lee Hope
“And through the air,” added Nan.
“I tell you, Freddie,” said Uncle William, quite seriously: “we could get an airship for him maybe; then he could really swim without water.”
But Freddie took no notice of the way they tried to make fun of his duck, for he felt Downy was really wonderful, as he said, and would do some wonderful things as soon as it got a chance.
When dinner was over, Dorothy took Nan up to her room. On the dresser, in a cut-glass bowl, were little Nettie Prentice’s lilies that Nan had carried all the way from Meadow Brook, and they were freshened up beautifully, thanks to Dorothy’s thoughtfulness in giving them a cold spray in the bath tub.
“What a lovely room!” Nan exclaimed, in unconcealed admiration.
“Do you like it?” said Dorothy. “It has a lovely view of the ocean and I chose it for you because I know you like to see pretty sights out of your window. The sun seems to rise just under this window,” and she brushed aside the dainty curtains.
The moonlight made a bright path out on the ocean and Nan stood looking out, spellbound.
“I think the ocean is so grand,” she said. “It always makes me feel so small and helpless.”
“When you are under a big wave,” laughed her cousin, who had a way of being jolly. “I felt that way the other day. Just see my arm,” and Dorothy pushed up her short sleeve, displaying a black and blue bruise too high up to be seen except in an evening dress or bathing costume.
“How did you do that?” asked Nan, in sympathy.
“Ran into a pier,” returned the cousin, with unconcern. “I thought my arm was broken first. But we must go down,” said Dorothy, while Nan wanted to see all the things in her pretty room. “We always sit outside before retiring. Mamma says the ocean sings a lullaby that cures all sorts of bad dreams and sleeplessness.”
On the veranda Nan and Dorothy joined the others. Freddie was almost asleep in Aunt Emily’s arms; Uncle William, Mr. Bobbsey, and Mr. Burnet were talking, with Bert as an interested listener; while Mrs. Manily told Aunt Emily of her mission to the beach. As the children had thought, Aunt Emily readily gave consent to have Nellie, the little cash girl, come to Ocean Cliff, and on the morrow Nan and Dorothy were to write the letter of invitation.
CHAPTER VI
The Ocean
Is there anything more beautiful than sunrise on the ocean?
Nan crept out of bed at the first peep of dawn, and still in her white robe, she sat in the low window seat to see the sun rise “under her window.”
“What a beautiful place!” Nan thought, when dawn gave her a chance to see Ocean Cliff. “Dorothy must be awfully happy here. To see the ocean from a bedroom window!” and she watched the streaks of dawn make maps on the waves. “If I were a writer I would always put the ocean in my book,” she told herself, “for there are so many children who never have a chance to see the wonderful world of water!”
Nettie’s flowers were still on the dresser.
“Poor little Nettie Prentice,” thought Nan. “She has never seen the ocean and I wonder if she ever will!”
Nan touched the lilies reverently. There was something in the stillness of daybreak that made the girl’s heart go out to poor Nettie, just like the timid little sunbeams went out over the waters, trying to do their small part in lighting up a day.
“I’ll just put the lilies out in the dew,” Nan went on to herself, raising the window quietly, for the household was yet asleep. “Perhaps I’ll find someone sick or lonely to-morrow who will like them, and it will be so much better if they bring joy to someone, for they are so sweet and pretty to die just for me.”
“Oh!” screamed Nan the next minute, for someone had crept up behind her and covered her eyes with hands. “It is you, Dorothy!” she declared, getting hold of the small fingers. “Did I wake you with the window?”
“Yes, indeed, I thought someone was getting in from the piazza. They always come near morning,” said Dorothy, dropping down on the cushions of the window seat like a goddess of morn, for Dorothy was a beautiful girl, all pink and gold, Bert said, excepting for her eyes, and they were like Meadow Brook violets, deep blue. “Did you have the nightmare?” she asked.
“Nightmare, indeed!” Nan exclaimed. “Why, you told me the sun would rise under my window and I got up to—”
“See it do the rise!” laughed Dorothy, in her jolly way. “Well, if I had my say I’d make Mr. Sol-Sun wear a mask and keep his glare to himself until respectable people felt like crawling out. I lower my awning and close the inside blinds every night. I like sunshine in reasonable doses at reasonable hours, but the moon is good enough for me in the meantime,” and she fell over in a pretty lump, feigning sleep in Nan’s cushions.
“I hope I did not wake anyone else,” said Nan.
“Makes no difference about me, of course,” laughed the jolly Dorothy. “Well, I’ll pay you back, Nan. Be careful. I am bound to get even,” and Nan knew that some trick was in store for her, as Dorothy had the reputation of being full of fun, and always playing tricks.
The sun was up in real earnest now, and the girls raised the window sash to let in the soft morning air.
“I think this would really cure Nellie, my little city friend,” said Nan, “and you don’t know what a nice girl she is.”
“Just bring her down and I’ll find out all about her,” said Dorothy. “I love city girls. They are so wide awake, and never say silly things like—like some girls I know,” she finished, giving her own cousin a good hug that belied the attempt at making fun of her.
“Nellie is sensible,” Nan said, “and yet she knows how to laugh, too. She said she had never been in a carriage until she had a ride with us at Meadow Brook. Think of that!”
“Wait till she sees my donkeys!” Dorothy finished, gathering herself up from the cushions and preparing to leave. “Well, Nannie dear, I have had a lovely time,” and she made a mock social bow. “Come to see me some time and have some of my dawn, only don’t come before eleven A.M. or you might get mixed up, for its awful dark in the blue room until that hour.” And like a real fairy Dorothy shook her golden hair and, stooping low in myth fashion, made a “bee-line” across the hall.
“She doesn’t need any brother,” Nan thought as she saw Dorothy bolt in her door like a squirrel; “she is so jolly and funny!”
But the girls were not the only ones who arose early that morning, for Bert and his father came in to breakfast from a walk on the sands.
“It’s better than Meadow Brook,” Bert told Nan, as she took her place at the table. “I wish Harry would come down.”
“It is so pleasant we want all our friends to enjoy it,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “But I’m sure you have quite a hotel full now, haven’t you, Dorothy?”
“Lots more rooms up near the roof,” replied Dorothy, “and it’s a pity to waste them when there’s plenty of ocean to spare. Now, Freddie,” went on Dorothy, “when we finish breakfast I am going to show you my donkeys. I called one Doodle and the other Dandy, because papa gave them to me on Decoration Day.”
“Why didn’t you call one Uncle Sam?” asked Freddie, remembering his part in the Meadow Brook parade.
“Well, I thought Doodle Dandy was near enough red, white, and blue,” said Dorothy.
The children finished breakfast rather suddenly and then made their way to the donkey barn.
“Oh, aren’t they lovely!” exclaimed Nan, patting the pretty gray animals. “I think they are prettier than horses, they are not so tall.”
“I know all about goats and donkeys,”