Mildred Keith - Complete 7 Book Collection. Finley Martha
mother, and Milly," cried Fan running to them in an ecstasy of delight, "my speckled hen has thirteen little chicks, the prettiest bits of fuzzy things you ever saw. Do come and look!"
She turned and sped back again toward the chicken yard, mother and sister following.
The other three little ones were there watching "Speckle" and her brood with intense interest.
"See! see! mamma, Milly! see! see!" cried Baby Annis in a flutter of delight, holding her little skirts close to her chubby legs, as the "bits of fuzzy things" ran hither and thither about her feet, "pitty 'ittle chickies, dust tum out of eggs."
"Yes, dears, they are very pretty," Mrs. Keith said; "but they are very tender little things; so be careful not to hurt them. No, Cyril, don't pick them up, and be sure you don't step on them. You may go to the house for some bread crumbs, Fan, and you and Annis may feed them."
This permission gave great pleasure, and Fan's small feet went skipping and dancing through the garden in the direction of the kitchen door.
Then mother must look at Annis's hen sitting on her nest, and notice how the older broods, belonging to Cyril and Don, were growing in size and strength; Zillah's and Ada's also; and hear how many eggs the other nests had furnished this morning.
After that the gardens were submitted to her inspection, Mildred still bearing her company, both making suggestions and giving assistance.
And so a full hour had slipped by before they returned to the house, and Rupert, they found, had made great progress with his work.
"I've painted the whole end, mother; do you see?" he called to her; "and now I'm beginning this side. I think I'll have the whole job done to-day."
"You have been very industrious," she said, "but don't make haste so fast that it will not be done well."
"Oh, no, ma'am, I don't intend to."
He was at the top of his ladder and near the roof of the new one-story addition to their house.
"Take care, my son," said Mrs. Keith; "it seems to me your ladder doesn't stand very securely. Is there no danger of its slipping?"
"Never a bit, mother," laughed the boy "why what should make it slip?"
She and Mildred turned and walked on toward the front of the house, had just set foot upon the porch there, when a shout from Rupert startled them and made them pause and look back at him.
They saw the ladder slip, slip then slide rapidly to the ground, while with a cry of alarm they rushed toward him.
But they were much too far off to reach him in time to be of the least assistance. Down he came to the ground, falling with considerable impetus and alighting upon his feet, his brush in one hand, his paint pot in the other, striking with a force that sent the paint all over his person.
He reeled and dropped.
"Are you hurt? oh, my boy, are you much hurt?" asked his mother tremulously, as she hurried to him, looking very pale and frightened.
"My clothes have got the worst of it, I believe, mother," he said, laughing and staggering to his feet. "I'm afraid they've robbed the house of half its new coat."
The others came running from chicken-yard and garden; Celestia Ann poked her head out of the kitchen window, and a peal of laughter met him from all sides.
"I dare say I cut quite a comical figure," he said, taking it in good part, "but since I've broken no bones, I wouldn't care a red cent, if it wasn't for the loss of the paint and the damage to my illegant attire.
"'O what a fall was there, my countrymen.'"
"Since you are unhurt, no matter for the clothes; even if they were an elegant suit," said his mother, with a sigh of relief.
"But half the paint's gone, mother—or at least put upon my person where it's worse than useless," cried the lad, surveying himself with an expression so comically lugubrious that there was a fresh explosion of mirth.
"Never mind; it will not cost a great deal to replace it," said Mrs. Keith. "But I think the job may wait now till we can get a regular house-painter to finish it up."
"What! would you have me give up so easily, mother, and own myself beaten? I don't like to do it. Please let me try again, and I'll place the ladder more carefully."
"I don't know; we'll ask your father first. There's no special haste and—how would you all like to go with me for a walk? a nice long stroll down to the bridge, and over the river, to look for wild flowers."
The proposal was greeted with loud acclamations and clapping of hands. "Oh, delightful!" "Oh goodie! goodie!" "May we mother?"
"Yes; we've all been working hard this long time, and I think really deserve a holiday. Rupert, make yourself decent and we'll set out at once, taking a lunch with us, so that we need not hurry home."
"Tan I do, mamma? tan Annis do?" asked the baby girl eagerly, the rosy face all aglow with delight.
"Yes, indeed, mother's darling; you shall go in your little coach; because your dear little feet couldn't travel fast enough to keep up with the rest, and would get so tired."
"Do we need to be dressed up, mother?" asked Fan, "me and Don and all the children?"
"No, dear; we don't go through town and are dressed quite enough for the woods."
They were soon on the way, strolling leisurely along, drinking in with keen enjoyment the sweet sights and sounds.
The sky over their heads was of a dark celestial blue with here and there a floating cloud of snowy whiteness, whose shadow flitted over the landscape, giving to it a charming variety of light and shade.
Their road lay along the bank of the river and its soft murmur mingled with the hum of insects and the song of birds. The grass beneath their feet was emerald green thickly studded with wild flowers of every hue, and the groves of saplings through which they passed were fast donning their summer robes.
The bridge was a rough wooden structure half a mile below the town; quite out of danger of crowding the houses of the citizens or doing much injury to the custom of the ferry.
The walk was a longer one than the younger children were accustomed to take, but there was no occasion for haste—they were in search of rest and pleasure, and when little feet grew weary, mother let them stop and amuse themselves with making wreaths and bouquets of the flowers they had gathered, or by throwing stones into the river, till they were ready to go on again.
They did not go far beyond the bridge; only climbed the bank, on the other side, picked a few flowers there, and were ready to return.
Chapter Twenty-first.
"You are meek and humble mouth'd;
You sign your place and calling, in full seeming,
With meekness and humility; but your heart
Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride."
—Shaks. Henry VIIIth.
"Oh, what's that? what's that?" cried a chorus of young voices, as Mrs. Keith and her little troop, returning from their morning stroll, stepped into the front porch at home.
"What indeed!" echoed the mother, as much surprised as any one of the others. "It looks very like a box of goods; but where could it come from?"
"Aunt Wealthy," suggested Mildred, examining it with a curious eye.
"Ah, so you have come back at last, eh?" said Mr. Keith coming out with a smiling face. "That's been waiting for you for over an hour," consulting his watch. "Come let's have dinner and then we'll see what's inside."
"Is it ready?" asked Mrs. Keith, taking off her bonnet.
"Yes;