Children's Book Classics - Kate Douglas Wiggin Edition: 11 Novels & 120+ Short Stories for Children. Kate Douglas Wiggin

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Название Children's Book Classics - Kate Douglas Wiggin Edition: 11 Novels & 120+ Short Stories for Children
Автор произведения Kate Douglas Wiggin
Жанр Книги для детей: прочее
Серия
Издательство Книги для детей: прочее
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isbn 9788075832733



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himself nearly into convulsions over Touchstone’s jokes, and the stage business of the Banished Duke; for it is unnecessary to state that Jack was not strictly Shakespearean in his treatment of the part.

      As for Polly, she enjoyed being Celia with all her might, and declared her intention of going immediately on the ‘regular’ stage; but Jack somewhat destroyed her hopes by affirming that her nose and hair wouldn’t be just the thing on the metropolitan boards, although they might pass muster in a backwoods theatre.

      ‘Hello! What’s this?’ exclaimed Philip, one morning. ‘A visitor? Yes—no! Why, it’s Señor Don Manuel Felipe Hilario Noriega coming up the cañon! He’s got a loaded team, too! I wonder if Uncle Doc is expecting anything.’

      The swarthy gentleman with the long name emerged from one cloud of dust and disappeared in another, until he neared the gate where Philip and Polly were standing.

      Philip opened the gate, and received a bow of thanks which would have made Manuel’s reputation at a Spanish court.

      ‘Going up to camp?’

      ‘Si, señor.’

      ‘Those things for us?’

      ‘Si, señor.’

      ‘What are they?’

      ‘Si, señor.’

      ‘Exactly! Well, are there any letters?’

      ‘Si, señor.’ Whereupon he drew one from his gorgeously-decorated leather belt.

      Philip reached for it, and Polly leaned over his shoulder, devoured with curiosity.

      ‘It’s for Aunt Truth,’ she said; ‘and—yes, I am sure it is Mrs. Howard’s writing; and if it is—’

      Hereupon, as Manuel spoke no English, and neither Philip nor Polly could make inquiries in Spanish, Polly darted to the cart in her usual meteoric style, put one foot on the hub of a wheel and climbed to the top like a squirrel, snatched off a corner of the canvas cover, and cried triumphantly, ‘I knew it! Elsie is coming! Here’s a tent, and some mattresses and pillows. Hurry! Help me down, quick! Oh, slow-coach! Keep out of the way and I’ll jump! Give me the letter. I can run faster than you can.’ And before the vestige of an idea had penetrated Philip’s head, nothing could be seen of Polly but a pair of twinkling heels and the gleam of a curly head that caught every ray of the sun and turned it into ruddier gold.

      It was a dusty, rocky path, and up-hill at that; but Polly, who was nothing if not ardent, never slackened her pace, but dashed along until she came in sight of the camp, where she expended her last breath in one shrill shriek for Aunt Truth.

      It was responded to promptly. Indeed, it was the sort of shriek that always commands instantaneous attention; and Aunt Truth came out of her tent prepared to receive tragic news. Bell followed; and the entire family would have done the same had they been in camp.

      Polly thrust the letter into Mrs. Winship’s hand, and sank down exhausted, exclaiming, breathlessly, ‘There’s a mattress—and a tent—coming up the cañon. It’s Elsie’s, I know. Philip is down at the gate—with the cart—but I came ahead. Phew! but it’s warm!’

      ‘What!’ cried Bell, joyfully. ‘Elsie at the gate! It can’t be true!’ And she darted like an arrow through the trees.

      ‘Come back! come back!’ screamed Polly.

      ‘Elsie is not at the gate. Don S. D. M. F. H. N. is there with a team loaded down with things. Isn’t it from Mrs. Howard, Aunt Truth?’

      ‘Yes, it is. Written this morning from Tacitas Rancho. Why, how is this? Let me see!’

      Tacitas Rancho, Monday morning.

      Dear Truth,—You will be surprised to receive a letter from me, written from Tacitas. But here we are, Elsie and I; and, what is better, we are on our way to you.

      (‘I knew it!’ exclaimed the girls.)

      Elsie has been growing steadily better for three weeks. The fever seems to have disappeared entirely, and the troublesome cough is so much lessened that she sleeps all night without waking. The doctor says that the camp-life will be the very best thing for her now, and will probably complete her recovery.

      (‘Oh, joy, joy!’ cried the girls.)

      I need not say how gladly we followed this special prescription of our kind doctor’s, nor add that we started at once.

      (‘Oh, Aunt Truth, there is nobody within a mile of the camp; can’t I, please can’t I turn one little hand-spring, just one little lady-like one?’ pleaded Polly, dancing on one foot and chewing her sun-bonnet string.

      ‘No, dear, you can’t! Keep quiet and let me read.’)

      Elsie would not let me tell you our plans any sooner, lest the old story of a sudden ill turn would keep us at home; and I think very likely that she longed to give the dear boys and girls a surprise.

      We arrived at the Burtons’ yesterday. Elsie bore the journey exceedingly well, but I would not take any risks, and so we shall not drive over until day after to-morrow morning.

      (‘You needn’t have hurried quite so fast, Polly dear.’)

      I venture to send the tent and its belongings ahead to-day, so that Jack may get everything to rights before we arrive.

      The mattress is just the size the girls ordered; and of course I’ve told Elsie nothing about the proposed furnishing of her tent.

      I am bringing my little China boy with me, for I happen to think that, with the Burtons, we shall be fourteen at table. Gin is not quite a success as a cook, but he can at least wash dishes, wait at table, and help Hop Yet in various ways; while I shall be only too glad to share all your housekeeping cares, if you have not escaped them even in the wilderness.

      I shall be so glad to see you again; and oh, Truth, I am so happy, so happy, that, please God, I can keep my child after all! The weary burden of dread is lifted off my heart, and I feel young again. Just think of it! My Elsie will be well and strong once more! It seems too good to be true.

      Always your attached friend,

      Janet Howard.

      Mrs. Winship’s voice quivered as she read the last few words, and Polly and Bell threw themselves into each other’s arms and cried for sheer gladness.

      ‘Come, come, dears! I suppose you will make grand preparations, and there is no time to lose. One of you must find somebody to help Philip unload the team. Papa and the boys have gone fishing, and Laura and Margery went with them, I think.’ And Mrs. Winship bustled about, literally on hospitable thoughts in-tent.

      Polly tied on her sun-bonnet with determination, turned up her sleeves as if washing were the thing to be done, and placed her arms akimbo.

      ‘First and foremost,’ said she, her eyes sparkling with excitement, ‘first and foremost, I am going to blow the horn.’

      ‘Certainly not,’ said Aunt Truth. ‘Are you crazy, Polly? It is scarcely ten o’clock, and everybody would think it was dinnertime, and come home at once.’

      ‘No, they’d think something had happened to Dicky,’ said Bell, ‘and that would bring them in still sooner.’

      ‘Of course! I forgot. But can’t I blow it earlier than usual? Can’t I blow it at half-past eleven instead of twelve? We can’t do a thing without the boys, and they may not come home until midnight unless we do something desperate. Oh, delight! There’s Don S. D. M. F. H. N., and Phil has found Pancho to help unload.’

      ‘Isn’t it lucky that we decided on the place for Elsie’s tent, and saved it in case she should ever come?’ said Bell. ‘Now Philip and Pancho can set it up whenever they choose. And isn’t it fortunate that we three stayed at home to-day, and refused to fish?