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Hilarity Hall. Carolyn Wells
Читать онлайн.Название Hilarity Hall
Год выпуска 0
isbn 4064066403355
Автор произведения Carolyn Wells
Жанр Документальная литература
Издательство Bookwire
"Yes, I know; but you 're head cook, chief cook, cook plenipotentiary, or any title you prefer."
"Then I 'll be cook," said Marjorie—"just plain cook."
"Indeed, you 'll be more than a plain cook," said her mother, laughing, "if you attempt all the fancy dishes in all those receipt-books I saw you stowing away in your trunk."
"Oh, they were n't all receipt-books. Some of them were delectable tales to be read aloud at twilight hour. I could only take light literature, as the box weighs about a ton now; so I took 'First Aid to the Injured' and 'Alice in Wonderland'—we can struggle along with those."
"All right, Duchess," said Betty, rising. "And now look over your lists for the last time. I'm going home to lock my trunk, and then I'm going to don my war-paint and feathers."
"I am, too," said Nan; "and I want to go down to the station an hour before train-time, so as to have ample leisure to come back for what I forget."
"Good idea," said Marjorie, approvingly. The girls called her "Duchess" because she had a high-and-mighty way of giving orders. Not an unpleasant way—oh, dear, no! Marjorie Bond was the favorite of the whole village of Middleton. Her stately air was due to the fact that she was rather tall for her sixteen years, and carried herself as straight as an arrow. She could have posed admirably for a picture of Pocahontas. Her dark, bright eyes were always dancing, and her saucy gipsy face was always smiling, for Marjorie had a talent for enjoyment which she cultivated at every opportunity. The girls said she could get fun out of anything, from a scolding to a jug of sour cream.
"I'm sure I 've thought of everything," said the Duchess, wrinkling her brows over a handful of scribbled lists. "You 're to bring the forks, Nannie, and a pair of blankets, and a table-cloth—and don't forget your napkin-ring, and bring your Vienna"coffee-pot. And, Betty, take your chafing-dish—we 'll need two. Millicent, you 're responsible for the spoons, and Jessie, knives. Lazy Daisy will take a hammock, and I 'll take one too; and I 've packed lots of sofa-pillows, and I hope Helen will take her banjo. I 've lost my most important list, so I may have forgotten something. But I 've packed towels, hand and dish, and a scrub-brush and a tack-hammer—and is n't that all we need to keep house? Except this good-for-nothing little bundle, my own, my only "Timmy Loo." Will you go with us, honey?" Marjorie picked up the bundle in question, who wagged his absurd, moppy, silvery ears and his still more absurd, moppy, silvery tail, and accepted his invitation with a few staccato barks of joy.
"That means yes, of course," said Betty. "His French accent is so perfect that even I can understand it. Well, good-by, Timmy; I 'll see you later. Can you take him on the train, Marjorie?"
"No; he 'll have to ride in the baggage-car. But I 've explained it all to him, and he does n't mind, and he will keep an eye on our trunks and wheels."
Timmy Loo barked again and blinked his eyes acquiescently, and Betty gave him a final pat on his funny little nose and ran away home.
"I must go, too," said Marguerite, rising as she spoke, and picking a full-blown rose from the trellis above her head.
A careless observer would probably have called Marguerite the prettiest of all the Summer Club girls. She was small, slender, and graceful, with a rose-leaf complexion and sea-blue eyes and a glory of golden hair that the girls called her halo. She was visionary and romantic, and her especial chum was Nan Kellogg, who was lounging in the hammock with her hands clasped behind her head and her eyes closed. Nan was a dark-haired, olive-skinned Southern girl with a poetic temperament and a secret ambition to write verse.
"Come, girl," said Marguerite, dropping rose-petals one by one on Nan's nose, "what are you dreaming of?"
"Oh," said Nan, opening her eyes, "I was thinking what gay old times we 're going to have down there. I'm so glad we 're going! Marjorie, you 're such a darling! I shall dedicate my first book of poems to you. Now I'm off, Marjorie. I 'll meet you at the train. And oh, Duchess, I almost forgot to ask you; brother Jack says can he and Ted come down and spend the day with us?"
"No, indeed!" cried Marjorie. "We are not going to allow a boy in sight all the time we are there. Tell them we 're sorry to refuse, but we 're not running a coeducational institution, and only girls need apply."
"I did tell him that, but he begged me to ask you again."
"No," said Marjorie, laughing but positive. "Tell him we turn a deaf ear—I mean sixteen deaf ears—to his entreaties, and harden our eight hearts to his appeal. There is no use, girls; if the boys come down they 'll spoil everything. Don't you think so?"
"Yes," said each girl, but with such varying accents that Mrs. Bond laughed heartily, while Marguerite shook her yellow curls and protested that she did n't want the boys anyway, even if they did bring candy.
Then she and Nan went home, and Jessie Carroll said: "We 'll have plenty of candy, Marjorie, for father will send it down whenever I want him to."
"Oh, Jessie, that will be fine. It will be just like boarding-school when the boxes come from home," said Hester Laverack, who had returned from Helen and her refractory tea-things.
Hester was an English girl who had only been in America about a year and was not yet quite accustomed to the rollicking ways of the rest of the club. "I think," she went on slowly, "I may take my camera down, if you like; it will be rather good fun to take pictures of us all."
"Yes, indeed; you must take your camera," said Marjorie. "What larks! we 'll have jolly pictures. And if Helen takes her banjo we can sing songs and have concerts, and oh, dear, the time won't be half long enough!"
The crowd scattered, and Millicent Payne said: "Well, I'm the last little Injun, and I reckon I 'll go too, and then there 'll be none."
Millicent Payne was Marjorie's dearest friend and chum, and lived next door; at least, she was supposed to, but she almost lived at the Bonds'. Millicent was a delightful girl to know, she was so clever and bright, and took such an interest in anything that interested anybody else—such a kind, whole-hearted interest, that was neither curious nor critical. And she had such funny little tricks of imagination. If, for any reason, her surroundings were not quite what she wished they were, she immediately created for herself an environment to suit her better, and, quite oblivious of facts, lived and moved among her fancies. She was devoted to stories and fairy-tales, and would repeat them in an irresistibly funny manner, becoming at times so imbued with the spirit of fantasy that she seemed a veritable witch or pixy herself.
"Run along, Millikens," called Marjorie; "come back when you 're ready, and we 'll go down together."
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