[Illustration: "Edith was busy taking their photographs". Page 41. ]

LITTLE PRUDY'S CHILDREN

JIMMY, LUCY, AND ALL

BY

SOPHIE MAY

AUTHOR OF "LITTLE PRUDY STORIES" "DOTTY DIMPLE STORIES""LITTLE PRUDY'S FLYAWAY SERIES" "FLAXIE FRIZZLESERIES" "THE QUINNEBASSET SERIES" ETC. 

BOSTONLEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS1900

COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY LEE AND SHEPARD. 

_All Rights Reserved. _

JIMMY, LUCY, AND ALL. 

Norwood PressJ. S. Cushing & Co. --Berwick & SmithNorwood Mass. U. S. A. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

 I. THE TALLYHO II. THE FIRST DINNER III. LUCY'S GOLD MINE IV. "THE KNITTING-WOMAN" V. THE AIR-CASTLE VI. "GRANDMA GRAYMOUSE" VII. THE ZEBRA KITTENVIII. STEALING A CHIMNEY IX. "CHICKEN LITTLE" AND JOE X. THE THIEF FOUND XI. BEGGING PARDON XII. "THE LITTLE SCHOOLMA'AM'S EARTHQUAKE"XIII. NATE'S CAVE XIV. JIMMY'S GOOD LUCK

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

"Edith was busy taking their photographs""'It is perfectly awful!' said Aunt Lucy"Edith painting the Cherub for Mrs. McQuilken"'James S. Dunlee, will--you--forgive me?'"

JIMMY, LUCY, AND ALL

I

THE TALLYHO

"I never saw a gold mine in my life; and now I'm going to see one, "cried Lucy, skipping along in advance of the others. It was quite alarge party; the whole Dunlee family, with the two Sanfords, --UncleJames and Aunt Vi, --making ten in all, counting Maggie, the maid. Theyhad alighted from the cars at a way-station, and were walking along theplatform toward the tallyho coach which was waiting for them. Lucy wasfirmly impressed with the idea that they were starting for the goldmines. The truth was, they were on their way to an old mining-town highup in the Cuyamaca Mountains, called Castle Cliff; but there had been nogold there for a great many years. 

Mr. Dunlee was in rather poor health, and had been "ordered" to themountains. The others were perfectly well and had not been "ordered"anywhere: they were going merely because they wanted to have a goodtime. 

"Papa would be so lonesome without us children, " said Edith, "he needsus all for company. "

He was to have still more company. Mr. And Mrs. Hale were comingto-morrow to join the party, bringing their little daughter Barbara, Lucy's dearest friend. They could not come to-day; there would have beenhardly room for them in the tallyho. With all "the bonnie Dunlees, "--asUncle James called the children, --and all the boxes, baskets, andbundles, the carriage was about as full as it could hold. 

It was seldom that the driver used this tallyho. He was quite choice ofit, and generally drove an old stage, unless, as happened just now, hewas taking a large party. It was a very gay tallyho, as yellow as thefamous pumpkin coach of Cinderella, only that the spokes of the wheelswere striped off with scarlet. There were four white horses, and everyhorse sported two tiny American flags, one in each ear. 

"All aboard!" called out the driver, a brown-faced, broad-shoulderedman, with a twinkle in his eye. 

"All aboard!" responded Mr. Sanford, echoed by Jimmy-boy. 

Whereupon crack went the driver's long whip, round went the red andyellow wheels, and off sped the white horses as freely as if they werethinking of Lucy's gold mine and longing to show it to her, and didn'tcare how many miles they had to travel to reach it. But this was allLucy's fancy. They were thinking of oats, not gold mines. These brighthorses knew they were not going very far up the mountain. They wouldsoon stop to rest in a good stable, and other horses not so handsomewould take their places. It was a very hard road, and grew harder andharder, and the driver always changed horses twice before he got to theend of the journey. 

As the tallyho rattled along, the older people in it fell to talking;and the children looked at the country they were passing, sang snatchesof songs, and gave little exclamations of delight. Edith threw one armaround her older sister Katharine, saying:--

"O Kyzie, aren't you glad you live in California? How sweet the air is, and how high the mountains look all around! When we were East lastsummer didn't you pity the people? Only think, they never saw any lemonsand oranges growing! They don't know much about roses either; they onlyhave roses once a year. "

"That's true, " replied Kyzie. "Let me button your gloves, Edy, you'll bedropping them off. "

"See those butterflies! I'd be happy if Bab was only in here, " murmureda little voice from under Lucy's hat. "Bab didn't want to come with herpapa and mamma; she wanted to come with _me_!"

"Now, Lucy, don't be foolish, " said Edith. "Where could we have put Bab?There's not room enough in this coach, unless one of the rest of us hadgot out. You'll see Bab to-morrow, and she'll be in Castle Cliff allsummer; so you needn't complain. "

"_I_ wasn't complaining, no indeed! Only I don't want to go down in thegold mine till Bab comes. I s'pose they'll put us down in a bucket, won't they? I want Uncle James to go with us. "

Jimmy-boy laughed and threw himself about in quite a gale. He oftenfound his little sister very amusing. 

"Excuse me, Lucy, " said he; "but I do think you're very ignorant! Thatmine up there is all played out, and Uncle James has told us so ever somany times. Didn't you hear him? The shaft is more than half full ofmuddy water. I'd like to see you going down in a bucket!"

"Well, then, Jimmy Dunlee, what _shall_ we do at Castle Cliff?"

"We've brought a tent with us, and for one thing I'm going to camp out, "replied Jimmy. "That's a grand thing, they say. "

"Don't! There'll be something come and eat you up, sure as you live, "said Lucy, who had a vague notion that camping out was connected in someway with wild animals, such as coyotes and mountain lions. 

"Poh! you don't know the least thing about Castle Cliff, Lucy! And UncleJames has talked and talked! Tell me what he said, now do. "

Uncle James was seated nearly opposite, for the two long seats of thetallyho faced each other. Lucy spoke in a low tone, not wishing him tooverhear. 

"He said we were going to board at a big house pretty near the oldmine. "

"Yes, Mr. Templeton's. "

"And he said somebody had a white Spanish rabbit with reddish brown eyesand its mouth all a-quiver. "

"Yes, I heard him say that about the rabbit. And what are those thingsthat come and walk on top of the house in the morning?"

"I know. They are woodpeckers. They tap on the roof, and the noisesounds like 'Jacob, Jacob, wake up, Jacob!' Uncle James says whenstrangers hear it they think somebody is calling, and they say, 'Oh, yes, we're coming!' I shan't say that; I shall know it's woodpeckers. Tell some more, Jimmy. "

"Yes" said Eddo, leaving Maggie and wedging himself between Lucy andJimmy. "Tell some more, Jimmum!"

"Well, there's a post-office in town and there's a telephone, and Mr. Templeton has lots of things brought up to Castle Cliff from the city;so we shall have plenty to eat; chicken and ice-cream and things. Thatmakes me think, I'm hungry. Wouldn't they let us open a luncheonbasket?"

Kyzie thought not; so Jimmy went on telling Lucy what he knew of CastleCliff. "It's named for an air-castle there is up there; it's a thingthey _call_ an air-castle anyway. A man built it in the hollow of sometrees, away up, up, up. I'm going to climb up there to see it. "

"So'm I, " said Lucy. 

"Ho, you can't climb worth a cent; you're only a girl!"

"But she has an older brother; and sometimes older brothers are kindenough to help their little sisters, " remarked Kyzie, with a meaningsmile toward Jimmy; but Jimmy was looking another way. 

"Uncle James told a funny story about that air-castle, " went on Kyzie. "Did you hear him tell of sitting up there one day and seeing a littletoad help another toad--a lame one--up the trunk of the tree?"

"No, I didn't hear, " said Lucy. "How did the toad do it?"

"I'll let you all guess. "

"Pushed him?" said Edith. 

"No. "

"Took him up pickaback, " suggested Lucy. 

"Nothing of the sort. He just took his friend's lame foot in his mouth, and the two toads hopped along together! Uncle James said it probablywasn't the first time, for they kept step as if they were used to it. "

"Wasn't that cunning?" said Edith. And Jimmy remarked after a pause, "IfLucy wants to go up to that castle, maybe I could steady her along; onlythere's Bab. She'd have to go too. And I don't believe it's any placefor girls!"

The ride was a long one, forty miles at least. The passengers had dinnerat a little inn, the elegant horses were placed in a stable; and thetallyho started again at one o'clock with a black horse, a sorrelhorse, and two gray ones. 

The afternoon wore on. The horses climbed upward at every step; andthough the journey was delightful, the passengers were growing rathertired. 

"Wish I could sit on the seat with the king-ductor, " besought littleEddo, moving about uneasily. 

"That isn't a conductor, it's a driver. Conductors are the men that goon the steam-cars, --the 'choo choo cars, '" explained Jimmum. Then in alower tone, "They don't have any cars up at Castle Cliff, and I'm gladof it. "

Lucy did not understand why he should be glad, and Jimmy added in alower tone:--

"Because--don't you remember how some little folks used to act aboutsteam-engines? They might do it again, you know. "

"Yes, I 'member now. But that was a long time ago, Jimmy. He wouldn'trun after engines now. "

"Who wouldn't?" inquired young Master Eddo, forgetting the "king-ductor"and turning about to face his elder brother. "Who wouldn't run after theengine, Jimmum?"

"Nobody--I mean _you_ wouldn't. "

"No, no, not me, " assented Eddo, shaking his flaxen head. 

And there the matter would have ended, if Lucy had not added mostunluckily: "'Twas when you were only a baby that you did it, Eddo. Yousaid to the engine, 'Come here, little choo choo, Eddo won't hurt oo. '_You_ didn't know any better. "

"_'Course_ I knew better, " said Eddo, shaking his head again, but thistime with an air of bewilderment. "_I_ didn't say, 'Come here, littlechoo choo. ' No, no, not me!"

"Oh, but you did, darling, " persisted Lucy. "You were just a tiny bitof a boy. You stood right on the track, and the engine was coming, 'puff, puff, ' and you said, 'Come here, little choo choo, Eddo won'thurt oo!'"

"I didn't! Oh! Oh! Oh! _When'd_ I say that? _Did_ the engine hurt me?_Where_ did it hurt me? Say, Jimmum, where did the engine hurt me?"putting his hand to his throat, to his ears, to his side. 

The more he thought of it, the worse he felt; till appalled by the ideaof what he must have suffered he finally fell to sobbing in his mother'sarms, and she soothed his imaginary woes with kisses and cookies. Forthe remainder of the journey he was in pretty good spirits and foundmuch diversion in watching the gambols of the two dogs following thetallyho. One was a Castle Cliff dog, black and shaggy, named Slam; theother, yellow and smooth, belonged to the "king-ductor" or driver, andwas called Bang. Slam and Bang often darted off for a race and Eddonearly gave them up for lost; but they always came back wagging theirtails and capering about as if to say:--

"Hello, Eddo, we ran away just to scare you, and we'll do it again if weplease!"

It was a great day for dogs. Ever so many dogs ran out to meet Slam andBang. They always bit their ears for a "How d'ye do?" and then trottedalong beside them just for company. Eddo found it quite exciting. Onewas a Mexican dog, without a particle of hair, but he did not seem to bein the least ashamed of his singular appearance. 

Edith said it was an "empty country, " and indeed there were few houses;but there must have been more dogs than houses, for the whole journeyhad a running accompaniment of "bow-wow-wows. "

The farther up hill the road wound the steeper it grew; and Jimmyexclaimed more than once:--

"This coach is standing up straight on its hind feet, papa! Just look!'Twill spill us all out backward!"

But it did nothing of the sort. It took them straight to Castle Cliff, "nearly six thousand feet above the level of the sea, " and there itstopped, before the front door of the hotel. It was about half-past fiveo'clock in the afternoon, and Mr. Templeton, who had been looking outfor the tallyho, came down the steps to meet his guests. 

II

THE FIRST DINNER

Mr. Templeton's wife was just behind him. They both greeted the party asif they had all been old friends. The house, a large white one, stood asif in the act of climbing the hill. In front was a sloping lawn full ofbrilliant flowers, bordered with house-leek, or "old hen and chickens, "a plant running over with pink blossoms. Kyzie had not expected to see agarden like this on the mountain. 

At one side of the house, between two black oak trees, was a hammock, and near it a large stone trough, into which water dripped from afaucet. Two birds, called red-hammers, were sipping the water withtheir bills, not at all disturbed by the arrival of strangers. 

It was a small settlement. The hotel, by far the largest house in CastleCliff, looked down with a grand air upon the few cottages in sight. These tiny cottages were not at all pretty, and had no grass or lawns infront, but people from the city were keeping house in them for thesummer; and besides there were tents scattered all about, full of"campers. "

As the "bonnie Dunlees" and their elders entered the hotel, a merryvoice called out:--

"A hearty welcome to you, my friends, and three cheers for CastleCliff!"

Mr. And Mrs. Dunlee and the Sanfords walked on smiling, and the childrenlingered awhile outside; but it was a full minute before any of themdiscovered that the cheery voice belonged to a parrot, whose cage swungfrom a tall sycamore overhead. 

"Polly's pretty sociable, " laughed Mr. Templeton. "Do you like animals, young ladies? If so, please stand up here in a group, and you shall haveanother welcome. "

Then he clapped his hands and called out "Thistleblow!" and immediatelya pretty red pony came frisking along and began to caper around theyoung people with regular dancing steps, making at the same time themost graceful salaams, pausing now and then to sway himself as if hewere courtesying. It was a charming performance. The little creature hadonce belonged to a band of gypsies, who had given him a regular courseof training. 

"He is trying to tell you how glad he is to see you, " said Mr. Templeton, as the children shouted and clapped their hands. 

"Oh, won't Bab like it, though!" cried Lucy. "Seems as if I couldn'twait till to-morrow for Bab to get here, for then the good times willbegin. "

But for Kyzie and Edith and Jimmy the good times had begun already. Thefive Dunlees entered the house, little Eddo clinging fast to Jimmum'sforefinger. They passed an old lady who sat on the veranda knitting. Shegazed after them through her spectacles, and said to Mr. Templeton in atone of inquiry:--

"Boarders?"

"Yes, " he replied, rubbing his chin, "and they have lots of jingle in'em too; they're just the kind I like. "

"Well, I hope they won't get into any mischief up here, that's all I'vegot to say. Nobody wants to take children to board anyway, but you can'talways seem to help it. "

And then the old lady turned to her knitting again; indeed her fingershad been flying all the while she talked. Mr. Templeton looked at hercuriously, and wondered if she disliked children. 

"I'd as lief have 'em 'round the house as her birds and kittens anyway, "he reflected; for she kept a magpie, three cats and a canary; and thesepets had not been always agreeable guests at the hotel. 

It was now nearly six o'clock, and savory odors from the kitchen mingledwith the balmy breath of the flowers stealing in from the lawn. TheDunlee party had barely time for hasty toilets when the gong sounded fordinner. The Templeton dining-room was large and held several tables. TheDunlees had the longest of these, the one near the west window. Therewere twelve plates set, though only nine were needed to-night. The threeextra plates had been placed there for the Hale family, who wereexpected to-morrow. Mrs. Dunlee had told the landlord that she wouldlike the Hales at her table. 

"And Bab will sit side o' me, " said Lucy. "Oh, won't we be happy?"

As the Dunlees took their seats to-night and looked around the room theysaw a droll sight. The old lady, who had been knitting on the veranda, was seated at a small table in one corner; and on each side of her in achair sat a cat! One cat was a gray "coon, " the other an Angora; andboth of them sat up as grave as judges, nibbling bits of cheese. Mrs. McQuilken herself, dressed in a very odd style, was knitting again. Shewas a remarkably industrious woman, and as it would be perhaps three orfour minutes before the soup came in, she could not bear to waste thetime in idleness. Her head-dress was odd enough. It was just a strip ofwhite muslin wound around the head like an East Indian puggaree. Mrs. McQuilken had many outlandish fashions. She was the widow of asea-captain and had been abroad most of her life. The children couldhardly help staring at her. Even after they had learned to know herpretty well they still wanted to stare; and not being able to rememberher name they spoke of her as "the knitting-woman. "

"Look, Lucy, " whispered Jimmy; "there's a boy I know over there at thatlittle table. It's Nate Pollard. "

He waved his hand toward him and Nate waved in reply. At home Jimmy hadnot known Nate very well, for he was older than himself and in higherclasses; but here among strangers Jimmy-boy was glad to see a familiarface. Mr. And Mrs. Pollard were with their son. Perhaps they had allcome for the summer. Jimmy hoped so. 

There were two colored servants gliding about the room, and a prettywaiting-maid. 

"O dear, no cook from Cathay, " whispered Kyzie to Edith. 

"I don't know what you mean. "

"I mean I wanted a cook from Cathay or Cipango, " went on Kyzie, laughingbehind her napkin. 

"I'm going to shake you, " said Edith, who suddenly bethought herselfthat Cathay and Cipango were the old names for China and Japan. This hadbeen part of her history lesson a few days ago. How Kyzie did remembereverything!

At that moment the colored man from Georgia stood at her elbow with asteaming plate of soup. Lucy looked at him askance. Why couldn't he havebeen a Chinaman with a pigtail? She had told Bab she was almost surethere would be a "China cook" at the mountains, and when he passed thesoup he would say, "Have soup-ee?" Bab had been in Europe and in Maineand in California, but knew very little of Chinamen and had often saidshe "wanted to eat China cooking. "

The dinner was excellent. Eddo enjoyed it very much for a while; thenhis head began to nod over his plate, his spoon waved uncertainly in theair, and Maggie had to be sent for to take him away from the table. 

The ride up the mountain had been so fatiguing that by eight o'clock allthe Dunlees, little and big, were glad to find themselves snugly in bed. They slept late, every one of them, and even the woodpeckers, tapping onthe roof next morning, failed to arouse them with their "Jacob, Jacob, wake up, wake up, Jacob!"

After breakfast Edith happened to leave the dining-room just behind Mrs. McQuilken, who held her two cats cuddled up in her arms like babies, and was kissing their foreheads and calling them "mamma's preciousdarlings. " As Edith heard this she could not help smiling, and Mrs. McQuilken paused in the entry a moment to say:--

"I guess you like cats. "

"I do, ma'am. Oh, yes, very much. "

"That's right. I like to see children fond of animals. Now, I've got anew kitty upstairs, a zebra kitty, that you'd be pleased with. It's abeauty, and _such_ a tail! Come up to my room and see it if you want to. My room's Number Five. But don't you come now; I shall be busy an hourand a half. Remember, an hour and a half. "

Edith thanked her and ran to tell Kyzie what the "knitting-woman" hadbeen saying. 

"Go get your kodak, " said Kyzie. "Nate Pollard is going to take us allout on an exploring expedition. You know he has been in Castle Cliff awhole week, and knows the places. "

"First thing I want to see is that mine, " said Lucy, as they all metoutside the hotel. 

"The mine?" repeated Kyzie, and looked at Eddo. "I'm afraid it isn'tquite safe to take little bits of people to such a place as that. Do youthink it is, Nate?"

"Rather risky, " replied Nate. 

Eddo had caught the words, "little bits of people, " and his eyes openedwide. 

"What does _mine_ mean, Jimmum?"

"A great big hole, I guess. See here, Eddo, let's go in the house andfind Maggie. "

"Yes, " chimed in Edith, "let's go find Maggie. There's a _beau_-tifulpicture book in mamma's drawer. You just ask Maggie and she'll show youthe picture of those nice little guinea-pigs. "

Though very young, Eddo was acute enough to see through this littlemanoeuvre. It was not the first time the other children had tried to gethim out of the way. They wanted to go to see a charming "great big hole"somewhere, and they thought he would fall into it and get hurt. Theywere always thinking such things--so stupid of them! They thought heused to run after "choo choos" and talk to them, when of course he neverdid it; 'twas some other little boy. 

"I want to go with Jimmum, " said he, stoutly. "You ought to not go'thout me! _I_ shan't talk to that mine. _I_ shan't say, 'Come, littlemine, Eddo won't hurt oo. ' No, no, not me! I shan't say nuffin', and Ishan't fall in the hole needer. So there! H'm! 'm! 'm!"

It was not easy to resist his pleading. Perhaps Aunt Vi saw how matterswere, for she appeared just then, bearing the news that she and UncleJames were going to drive, and would like to take one of the children. 

"And Eddo is the one we want. He is so small that he can sit on the seatbetween us. Aren't the rest of you willing to give him up just for thismorning? He can go to walk with you another time. "

So they all said they would try to give him up, and he bounded away withAunt Vi, his dear little face beaming with proud satisfaction. 

III

LUCY'S GOLD MINE

The other children strolled leisurely along toward a place that lookedlike a long strip of sand. 

"A sand beach, " said Kyzie. 

"No, " said Nate; "it isn't a beach and it isn't sand. "

"What _can_ you mean? What else is it, pray?"

She stooped and took up a handful of something that certainly lookedlike sand. The others did the same. 

"What do you call that?" they all asked, as they sifted it through theirfingers. 

Nate smiled in a superior way. 

"Well, I don't call it sand, because it isn't sand. I thought it waswhen I first saw it; I got cheated, same as you. But there's no sand toit; it's just _tailings_. "

"What in the world is tailings?" asked Kyzie, taking up another handfuland looking it over very carefully. Strange if she, a girl in her teens, couldn't tell sand when she saw it! But she politely refrained frommaking any more remarks, and waited for Nate to answer her question. Hewas an intelligent boy, between eleven and twelve. 

"Well, tailings are just powdered rocks, " said Nate. 

"Powdered rocks? Who powdered them? What for?" asked Edith. 

"Why, the miners did it years ago. They ground up the rocks in the mineinto powder just as fine as they could, and then washed the powder toget the gold out. "

"Oh, I see, " said Edith. "So these tailings are what's left after thegold's washed out. "

"Yes, they brought 'em and spread 'em 'round here to get rid of 'em Isuppose. "

"Is the gold all washed out, every bit?" asked Jimmy. "Seems as if Icould see a little shine to it now. "

"Well, they got out all they could. There may be a little dust of itleft though. Mr. Templeton says the folks in 'Frisco that own the minethink there's _some_ left, and the tailings ought to be sent to SanDiego and worked over. "

Jimmy took up another handful. Yes, there was a faint shine to it; itbegan to look precious. 

"Well, there's a heap of it anyway. It goes ever so far down, " said he, thrusting in a stick. 

"It's from ten to twelve feet deep, " replied Nate, proud of hisknowledge; "and see how long and wide!"

"_I_ don't see how they ever ground up rocks so fine, " said Kyzie. "Exactly like sand. And it stretches out so far that you'd think 'twas asand beach by the sea, --only there isn't any sea. "

"Well, it's just as good as a beach anyway, " said Nate. "Just as goodfor picnics and the like of that. When there's anything going on, theyget out the brass band and have fireworks and bring chairs and benchesand sit round here. I tell you it's great!"

"There are lots of benches here now, " remarked Edith. "And what's thatlong wooden thing?"

"That's a staging. That's where they have the brass band sit; that'swhere they send up the fireworks. "

"Oh, I hope they'll have fireworks while we're here, and picnics. "

"Of course they will. They're always having 'em. And I heard somebodysay they're talking of a barbecue. "

Edith clapped her hands. She did not know what a barbecue might be, butit sounded wild and jolly. 

"What a long stretch of mud-puddle right here by the tailings, " saidKyzie. 

Nate laughed. "It _is_ a damp spot, that's a fact!"

They all wondered what he was laughing at. "I guess there used to bewater here once, " said Jimmy at a venture. "There's water here nowstanding round in spots. And, --why, it's _fishes_!"

Lucy stooped all of a sudden and picked up a dead fish. 

"Ugh! I never caught a fish before!" But next moment she threw it awayin disgust. 

"How did dead fishes ever get into this mud-puddle?" queried Edith. 

"Well, they used to live in it before it dried up, " replied Nate. "Factis, this is a _lake_!"

Everybody exclaimed in surprise; and Kyzie said:--

"It doesn't seem possible; but then things are so queer up here that youcan believe almost anything. "

"Really it is a lake. It's all right in the winter, and swellstremendously then; but this is a dry year, you know, and it's all driedup. " Kyzie forgave the lake for drying up, but pitied the fishes. Ediththought Castle Cliff was "a funny place anyway. "

"What little bits of houses! Did they dry up too?"

"Oh, those are just the cabins and bunk-houses that were built for theminers, ever so long ago when the mine was going. Fixed up into cottagesnow for summer boarders. Do you want to see the mine?"

They went around behind the shaft-house and beyond the old saw-mill. 

"O my senses!" cried Edith, "is that the old gold mine, that monstrousgreat thing? Isn't it horrid?"

They all agreed that it was "perfectly awful and dreadful, " and that itmade you shudder to look into it; and that they were glad baby Eddo wassafely out of the way. The mine was a deep, irregular chasm, full ofdirty water and rocks. It had a hungry, cruel look; you could almostfancy it was waiting in wicked glee to swallow up thoughtless littlechildren. 

"It doesn't seem as if anybody could ever have dug for gold in thathorrid ditch, " exclaimed Kyzie. 

"You'd better believe they did, though, " said the young guide. "Theyused to get it out in nuggets, cart-loads of it. "

He was not quite sure of the nuggets, but liked the sound of the word. 

"Yes, cart-loads of it. I tell you 'twas the richest mine in the wholeCuyamaca Mountains. "

"Too bad the gold gave out, " said Kyzie, gazing regretfully into thewatery depths. 

"But it didn't give out! Why, there's gold enough left down there to buyup the whole United States! They lost the vein, that's all"

"The vein? What's a vein?" asked Edith. 

"Well, you see, " replied the guide, "gold goes along underground instreaks; they call it veins. The miners had to stop digging here becausethey lost track of the streak. But they'll find it again. "

"How do _you_ know?" asked Jimmy-boy, who thought Nate was putting ontoo many airs. 

"Because Mr. Templeton said so. They've sent for Colonel Somebody fromI--forget where. He's a splendid mining engineer, great for finding lostveins. He'll be here next week and bring a lot of men. "

"Whoop-ee!" cried Jimmy, "he'll find the vein and things, and we'll behaving gold as plenty as blackberries!"

"Just what I was talking about yesterday when you laughed, " broke inLucy. "I said I'd go down in a bucket; don't you know I did?"

Edith was gazing spellbound at the yawning chasm. 

"Look at those rickety steps! The men will get killed! 'Twill all cavein!"

"No danger, " said Nate, "there are walls down there, stone walls, papasays, that keep it all safe. "

He meant "galleries, " but had forgotten the word. 

"Well, I don't care if there are five hundred stone walls, I guess themen could drown all the same!" said Edith. "That water ought to be letout, Nate Pollard! If the colonel is coming next week why don't they letout the water this very day and give the place a chance to dry off. "

She spoke in a tone of the gravest anxiety, as if she understood thematter perfectly, and felt the whole care of the mine. Indeed, the minehad become suddenly very interesting to all the children. It certainlylooked like a rough, wild, frightful hole; nothing more than a hole; butif there were gold down there in "nuggets, " why, that was quite anothermatter; it became at once an enchanted hole; it was as delightful as afairy story. 

"I hope it's true that they've sent for that colonel, " said Kyzie. 

"Of course it's true, " replied Nate, who did not like to have his worddoubted. 

"I s'pose there are buckets 'round here. Oh, aren't you glad we came toCastle Cliff?" said Lucy, pirouetting around Jimmy. 

"Bab will be glad, too, " she thought. For Lucy never could look forwardto any pleasure without wishing her darling "niece" to share it withher. 

"Well, I guess we've seen everything there is to see, " remarked Nate, who had now told all he knew and was ready to go. 

While they still wandered about, talking of "tailings" and "nuggets, "they were startled by the peal of a bell. 

"Twelve o'clock! Two minutes ahead of time though, " said Nate, takingfrom his pocket a handsome gold watch which Jimmy had always admired. 

"What bell is that? Where is it?" they all asked. "And what is itringing for?"

"It's on top of the schoolhouse and it's ringing for noon. 'Twill ringagain in the evening at nine o'clock. But I can tell 'em they ought toset it back two minutes. "

"A nine o'clock bell? Why, that's a _curfew_ bell! How romantic!" criedKyzie. She had read of "the mellow lin-lan-lone of evening bells, " buthad never heard it. "Let's go to the schoolhouse. "

As luncheon at the Templeton House would not be served for an hour yet, they kept on to the hollow where the schoolhouse stood. It was a small, unpainted building in the shade of three pine trees. 

"Just wait a minute right here, " said Edith, the young artist, unstrapping her kodak. "I want a snap-shot at it. Stand there by thattree, Jimmum. Put your foot out just so. I wish you were barefooted!"

Just then, as if they had overheard the wish, two little boys camerunning down the hill, and one of them was barefooted. Moreover, whenKyzie asked if they would stand for a picture, they consented at once. 

"My name's Joseph Rolfe, " said the elder, twitching off his hat, "andhis name, "--pointing to his companion with a chuckle, --"his name isChicken Little. "

"No such a thing! Now you quit!" retorted the younger lad in a chokedvoice, digging his toes into the dirt, "quit a-plaguing me! My name'sHenry Small and you know it!"

While Edith was busy taking their photographs, Kyzie thanked the urchinsvery pleasantly. They both gazed at her with admiration. 

"See here, " said Joe Rolfe, twitching off his hat again veryrespectfully, "Are you going to keep school in the schoolhouse? I wishyou would!"

At this remarkable speech Jimmy and Edith fell to laughing; but Kyzieonly blushed a little, and smiled. How very grown-up she must seem toJoe if he could think of her as a teacher! She was now a tall girl offourteen, with a fine strong face and an earnest manner. She wasbeginning to tire of being classed among little girls, and it wasdelightful to find herself looked upon for the first time in her life asa young lady. But she only said:--

"Oh, no, Joe, people don't teach school in summer! Summer is vacation. "

"Well, but they do sometimes, " persisted Joe; "there was a girl kep'this school last summer. She called it 'vacation school. ' But we didn'tlike her; she licked like fury. "

"So she did, " echoed Chicken Little, "licked and pulled ears. Kep' astick on the desk. "

And with these last words both the little boys took their leave, runningup hill with great speed, as if they thought that standing for a picturehad been a great waste of time. 

"That Chicken boy is the biggest cry-baby, " said Nate. "The boys like toplague him to see him cry. Joe Rolfe has some sense. "

As the little party walked on, Miss Katharine turned her head more thanonce for another look at the schoolhouse. 

"Wouldn't it be fun, Edy, to teach school in there and ring that'lin-lan-lone bell' to call in the scholars? I'd make you study botanyharder'n you ever did before. "

"No, thank you, Miss Dunlee, " replied Edith, courtesying. "You'll notget me to worrying over botany. I studied it a month once, but when I goup in the mountains I go to have a good time. "

She pursed her pretty mouth as she spoke. Her sister Katharine was byfar the best botanist in her class, and was always tearing up flowers inthe most wasteful manner. Worse than that, she expected Edith to do thesame thing and learn the hard names of the poor little withered pieces. 

"You don't love flowers as well as I do, Kyzie, or you couldn't abusethem so!"

This is what she often said to her learned sister after Kyzie had made"a little preach" about the beauties of botany. 

As they entered the hotel for luncheon, Kyzie was still thinking of theschoolhouse and the sweet-toned bell and the singular speech of JoeRolfe, about wanting her for a teacher. What came of these thoughts youshall hear later on. 

"Well, I declare, I forgot all about that zebra kitty, " said Edith. "What will the knitting-woman think of such actions?"

IV

THE "KNITTING-WOMAN"

The "knitting-woman" met Edith at the dining-room door after luncheon, and said to her rather sharply:--

"Well, little girl, I thought you liked kittens?"

"I do, Mrs. --madam, I certainly do, " replied Edith feeling guilty andashamed. "But Nate Pollard took us to see the gold mine and theschoolhouse and we've just got back. "

"Oh, that's it! I thought 'twas very still around here--I missed thenoise of the _boyoes_. --You don't know what I mean by boyoes, " sheadded, smiling. "I picked up the word in Ireland. I'm always picking upwords. It means _boys_. "

"I understand; oh, yes. "

"Well, 'twas a little trouble to me, your not coming when I expectedyou; but you may come this afternoon. I'll be ready in ten minutes. "

"Yes, madam, thank you. "

Edith ran to her mother laughing. "Oh, mamma, she is the queerest woman!Calls boys _boyoes_! I must go to see her kitten whether I want to ornot--in just ten minutes! I wish I could take Kyzie with me; would youdare?"

"Certainly not. Katharine has not been invited. And don't make a longcall, Edith. "

"No, mamma, I'll not even sit down. I'll just look at the zebra kittyand come right away. "

Mrs. Dunlee smiled. If there were many pets at Number Five it was notlikely that Edith would hasten away. "Remember, daughter, fifteenminutes is long enough for a call on an entire stranger. You don't wishto annoy Mrs. McQuilken; but if you should happen to forget, you'll hearthis little bell tinkle, and that will remind you to leave. "

Number Five was a very interesting room, about as full as it could holdof oddities from various countries, together with four cats, a canary, and a mocking-bird. 

"If you had come this morning you would have seen Mag, that's themagpie, " said Mrs. McQuilken. "She's off now, pretty creature. She likesto be picking a fuss with the chickens. "

The good lady had been knitting, but she dropped her work into the largepocket of her black apron, and moved up an easy-chair for her guest. Edith forgot to take it. Her eyes were roving about the room, attractedby the curiosities, though she dared not ask a single question. 

"That nest on the wall looks odd to you, I dare say, " said Mrs. McQuilken. "The twigs are woven together so closely that it looks niceenough for a lady's work-bag, now doesn't it?"

Edith said she thought it did. 

"Well, that's the magpie's nest. She laid seven eggs in it once. I keepit now for her to sleep in; it's Mag's cot-bed. "

Edith's eyes, still roving, espied a handsome kitty asleep on thelounge. It must be the zebra kitty because of its black and dove-coloredstripes. Most remarkable stripes, so regular and distinct, yet so softlyshaded. The face was black, with whiskers snow-white. How odd! Edith hadnever seen white whiskers on a kitten. And then the long, sweepingblack tail!

Mrs. McQuilken watched the little girl's face and no longer doubted herfondness for kittens. 

"I call her Zee for short. Look at that now!" And Mrs. McQuilkenstraightened out the tail which was coiled around Zee's back. 

"Oh, how beautifully long!" cried Edith. 

"Long? I should say so! There was a cat-show at Los Angeles last fall, and one cat took a prize for a tail not so long as this bythree-quarters of an inch! And Zee only six months old!"

The kitty, wide awake by this time, was holding high revel with a ballof yarn which the tortoise-shell cat had purloined from her mistress'sbasket. 

"Dear thing! Oh, isn't she sweet?" said Edith, dropping on her kneesbefore the graceful creature. 

Mrs. McQuilken enjoyed seeing the child go off into small raptures;Edith was fast winning her heart. 

"Does your mother like cats?" she suddenly inquired. 

"Not particularly, " replied Edith, clapping her hands, as Zee with aquick dash bore away the ball out of the very paws of the coon cat. "Mamma thinks cats are cold-hearted, " said she, hugging Zee to herbosom. "She says they don't love anybody. "

"I deny it!" exclaimed Mrs. McQuilken, indignantly. "Tell your mother tomake a study of cats and she'll know better. "

Edith looked rather frightened. "Yes'm, I'll tell her. "

"They have very deep feelings and folks ought to know it. Now, listen, little girl. I had two maltese kittens once. They were sisters andloved each other better than any girl sisters _you_ ever saw. One of thekittens got caught in a trap and we had to kill her. And the other onewent round mewing and couldn't be comforted. She pined away, that kittydid, and in three days she died. Now I know that for a fact. "

"Poor child!" said Edith, much touched. "_She_ wasn't cold-hearted, I'lltell mamma about that. "

"Well, if she doesn't like 'em perhaps it wouldn't do any good; butwhile you're about it you might tell her of two tortoise-shell cats Ihad. They were sisters too. Whiff had four kittens and Puff had one andlost it. And the way Whiff comforted Puff! She took her right home intoher own basket and they brought up the four kittens together. Wasn'tthat lovely?"

"Oh, wasn't it, though?" said Edith. "Cats have hearts, I always knewthey did. "

"That shows you're a sensible little girl, " returned the old ladyapprovingly. "But you haven't told me yet what your name is?"

"Edith Dunlee. "

"I knew 'twas Dunlee--that's a Scotch name; but I didn't know about theEdith. Well, Edith, so you've been to see the gold mine? Pokerish place, isn't it? I hear they're going to bring down the engine from the bigplant and try to start it up again. "

Edith had no idea what she meant by the "big plant, " so made no reply. Mrs. McQuilken went back to the subject of cats. 

"Did you know the Egyptians used to worship cats? Well, sometimes theydid. And when their cats died they went into mourning for them. "

"How queer!"

"It does seem so, but it's just as you look at it, Edith. Cats are asight of company. I didn't care so much about them or about birdseither when my husband was alive and my little children, but now--"

Again she paused, and this time she did not go on again. Some one out ofdoors laughed; it was Jimmy Dunlee, and the mocking-bird took up themerry sound and echoed it to perfection. 

"Doesn't that seem human?" cried Mrs. McQuilken. And really it did. Itwas exactly the laugh of a human boy, though it came from the throat ofa tiny bird. 

"My little boys, Pitt and Roscoe, liked to hear him do that, " said Mrs. McQuilken. 

Edith observed that she did not say "my boyoes. " "Pitt, the one thatdied in Japan, doted on the mocking-bird. The other boy, Roscoe, was allbound up in the canary. "

"Does the canary sing?"

"Yes, he's a grand singer. Just you wait till he pipes up. You'll besurprised. But you remember what I was saying a little while ago aboutyour mother? That zebra kitty--"

Before she could finish the sentence Edith heard the warning tinkle ofthe tea-bell, and sprang up suddenly, exclaiming: "Good-by, Mrs. --good-by, _madam_, I must go now. You've been very kind, thank you. Good-by. "

And out of the door and away she skipped, leaving her hostess, who hadnot heard the bell, to wonder at her haste. "She went like a shot off ashovel, " said the good lady, taking up her knitting-work. "She seemed tobe such a well-mannered little girl, too! What got into her all at once?She acted as if she was 'possessed of the fox. '"

This is a common expression in Japan, and naturally Mrs. McQuilken hadcaught it up, as she had caught up other odd things in her travels. Shewas something of a mocking-bird in her way, was the captain's widow. 

"I've taken quite a fancy to Edith, " she added, "a minute more and Ishould have offered to give her the zebra kitty. But there, I shouldn'twant to make a fuss in the family. That woman, her mother, to think ofher talking so hard about cats! She doesn't _look_ like that kind of awoman. I'm surprised. "

Edith ran back to her mother breathless. 

"Oh, mamma, I was having such a good time! And she didn't appear to be'annoyed, ' she talked just as fast all the time! But the bell rang whileshe was saying something and I had to run. "

"Had to run? I hope you were not abrupt, my child?"

"Oh, no, mamma, not at all. I said 'good-by' twice, and thanked her andtold her she had been very kind. That wasn't abrupt, was it? But oh, that kitty's tail! I forget how many inches and a quarter longer thanany other kitty's tail in this state! And they are not cold-hearted, --Imean cats, --I promised to tell you. "

Here followed an account of the two cat-sisters, who loved each otherbetter than girl-sisters. 

"And think of one of them dying of grief, the sweet thing! Human peopledon't die of grief, do they, mamma?"

"Not often, Edith. Such instances have been known, but they are veryrare. "

"Well, " struck in wee Lucy, who had been listening to the touchingstory, "well, I guess some folks would! Bab would die for grief of me, and I would die for grief of Bab; we _said_ we would!"

She made this absurd little speech with tears in her eyes; but Kyzieand Edith dared not laugh, for mamma's forefinger was raised. Mammanever allowed them to ridicule the friendship of the two little girls, who had made believe for more than a year that they were "aunt" and"niece. " The play might be rather foolish, but the love was very sweetand true. 

Lucy had been thinking all day of Barbara and longing for her arrival. Afull hour before it was time for the stage she went a little way up themountain with Jimmy, and they took turns gazing down the winding, dustyroad through a spy-glass. "I shan't wait here any longer. What's theuse?" declared Jimmy. 

"She's coming! she's coming! I saw her first!" was Lucy's glad cry. Andshe ran down the mountain in haste, though the stage, a grayish greenone, was just turning a curve at least a mile away. 

"Well, you _have_ been parted a good while, " said Uncle James, as thetwo dear friends met and embraced on the coach steps; "a day and ahalf!"

"I'd have 'most died if I'd waited any longer, " said Aunt Lucy, puttingher arm around her niece and leading her up the gravel path with thepink "old hen and chickens" on either side. 

The little girls were entirely unlike, and the contrast was pleasant tosee. Lucy was very fair, with light curling hair:--

 "Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds That ope in the month of May. "

Bab was quite as pretty, but in another way. She had brilliant dark eyesand straight dark hair with a satin gloss. She was half a head shorterthan her "auntie, " though their ages were about the same. People likedto see them together, for they were always sociable and happy, and lovedeach other "dearilee. "

"Oh, Bab, " said wee Lucy, "I had such a _loneness_ without you!"

"I had a loneness too, Auntie Lucy. Seemed as if the time never wouldgo. "

And then the dark head and the fair head met again for more kisses, while both the mammas looked on and said, in low tones and with smiles, as they always did:--

"How sweet! Now we shall hear them singing about the place like twolittle birds. "

This was Tuesday. The days went on happily until Thursday afternoon, when "the Dunlee party, " which always included the Hales and Sanfords, set forth up the mountain for a sight of the famous "air-castle. " Ofcourse Nate was with them, but this time not as a guide; the guide wasUncle James. 

The road, though rather steep, was not a hard one. Mr. Dunlee had hisalpenstock, and Uncle James walked beside him, holding little Eddo bythe hand. Bab and Lucy, or "the little two, " as Aunt Vi called them, were side by side as usual, and Lucy had asked Bab to repeat the storyof "Little Bo-Peep" in French, for Nate wanted to hear it. Bab couldspeak French remarkably well. 

 "Petit beau bouton A perde ses moutons, Il ne sais pas que les a pris. O laissez les tranquille! Ils se retournerons, Chacun sa queue apres lui. "

Mrs. Dunlee and Kyzie were just behind the children, and while Bab wasrepeating the verse Kyzie said in a low tone:--

"Oh, mamma, let me walk with you all the way, please. There's somethingI want to talk about. "

She looked so earnest that Mrs. Dunlee wondered not a little what it washer eldest daughter had to say. 

V

THE AIR-CASTLE

"A vacation school, Katharine? And pray what may that be?"

Kyzie's cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining. She held her mother'shand and talked fast, though plainly she did not feel quite at her ease. 

"Why, mamma, you've certainly heard of vacation schools--summer schools?They're very common nowadays. In the summer, you know; so that collegepeople can go to them, and business people. "

"Ah! Like the one at Coronado Beach? Now I understand. But it didn'toccur to me that my little daughter would know enough to teach collegepeople!"

"Now, mamma, don't laugh at me! Of course I mean children, the littleignorant children right around here, " making a sweeping gesture towardthe cottages and "bunk houses" that dotted the country lower down themountain, "I know enough to teach little children, I should hope, mamma. "

"Possibly!"

Mrs. Dunlee's tone was so doubtful that her daughter felt crushed. 

"Possibly you may know enough about books; but book-knowledge is not allthat is required in a teacher. Could you keep the children in order?Would they obey you?"

The little girl's head drooped a little. 

"Let me see, you are only fourteen?"

"Fourteen last April, mamma. But everybody says, don't you know, thatI'm very large for my age. "

She tried to speak bravely, but the look of quiet amusement on herlistener's face made it rather hard for her to go on. 

"I suppose, " said she, dropping her eyes again, "I suppose they don'tknow much here, mamma, --the families that live here all the time. Someof the boys actually go barefooted. "

"So I have observed. A great saving of shoes. "

"And they had a school last summer, " went on Kyzie, resolutely. "A younggirl taught it who boarded where we do. Mr. Templeton said she did itfor fun. "

"Indeed!"

"But they didn't like her a bit. I could teach as well as she didanyway, mamma, for she just went around the room boxing their ears. "

"Is it possible, Katharine?" Mrs. Dunlee was serious enough now. "Tobox a child's ears is simply brutal!"

"I knew you'd say so, mamma; but that was just what Miss Severance did. Of course I wouldn't touch their ears any more than I would fly!"

Mrs. Dunlee turned now and regarded her daughter attentively. 

"But how did you ever happen to take up this sudden fancy for teaching, dear? It's all new to me. What first made you think of it--at your age?Can you tell?"

"Oh, mamma, I've been thinking about it, off and on, for a year. Eversince I was at Willowbrook last summer and heard Grandma Parlin talkabout _her_ first school. Why, don't you remember, she was justfourteen, she said, nearly three months younger than I am. "

Mrs. Dunlee understood it all now, and said to herself:--

"Dear old Grandma Parlin! Little did she imagine she was filling hergreat grand-daughter's head with mischievous notions!"

They walked on a short way in silence. "But you must remember, Katharine, that was seventy years ago. Grandma Parlin wouldn't advise agirl of fourteen to do in these days as she did then. Schools are verydifferent now. "

"Yes, indeed, mamma, very, very different. Isn't it too bad? I'd like to'board 'round' the way grandma did, and rap on the window with a ferule, and 'choose sides' and all that! But there's one thing I could do!"exclaimed the little girl, brightening. "I could make the children 'toethe mark'; wouldn't that be fun? I mean stand in a line on a crack inthe floor. How grandma would laugh! I'll write her all about it, andsend her a photograph, bare feet and all. "

In her eagerness Kyzie spoke as if the matter were all arranged and shecould almost see the children "toeing the mark. "

"Not so fast, my daughter. Remember there are three points to be settledbefore we can discuss the matter seriously. First, would your papaconsent? Second, would your mamma consent? Third, do the people ofCastle Cliff want a summer school anyway?"

"Three points? I see, oh, yes, " said Kyzie, meekly. 

"But now, Katharine, let us walk a little faster and join the others. And not a word more of this to-day. "

"What did keep you two so long?" asked Edith, coming to meet them with abright face. If her happy thoughts had not been dwelling on the zebracat just presented her by the "knitting-woman, " she would have observedat once that mamma and Kyzie had been "talking secrets"; though shemight not have suspected that this had anything to do with the vacationschool. 

"Do hurry along, " she added. "I want to show you the funniest sight! Idon't believe you've seen Barbara Hale, have you?"

Edith could hardly speak for laughing; and her mother and Kyzie did notwonder when they beheld the figure that little Bab had made of herself, by a new style of dressing her hair. The two little girls were, as Ihave told you, as different as possible, but had an intense desire tolook "just alike"; and when they tried their best the result was veryfunny. 

I will mention here that Lucy "despised" her own hair for not beingstraight like Bab's, and had often tried to braid it down her back; butas the braid always came out and the ribbon came off, the attempt hadbeen forbidden. 

Now, however, as the children had left their city home and come to aplace where everybody was "on holiday, " the mammas decided that theymight have a little more liberty. 

Their dresses were off the same piece, --good, strong brown ones; theirhats were alike; and, as for their hair, they were allowed to wear it asthey pleased "just for this summer. "

"We'll look exactly alike up there in the mountains, " the little soulshad said to each other; and this was perhaps one reason why they hadbeen so overjoyed at the prospect of going. 

[Illustration]

But to-day, ah! who would have dreamed that sweet little Bab couldbecome such a fright? She had done up her hair the night before on asmany as twenty curl-papers. Before starting for the air-castle she hadtaken out some of the papers and found--not ringlets, but wisps ofvery unruly hair. It would not curl any more than water will run uphill. 

She went to Aunt Lucy in her trouble to seek advice. Aunt Lucy lookedher over with great care and then announced:--

"It is perfectly awful! Don't take out any more papers, Bab. Let 'em be, so you can have something to stick the curls on to. "

And so it was done. The "curls, " as Lucy was pleased to call them, weredrawn up and looped and twisted and fastened by hair-pins to the othercurls left in the papers. The effect was most surprising. It made Bab'shead so much higher than usual that she was as tall now as auntie, andthat in itself was a great gain. Besides, this style, as Lucy said, wasthe "pompy-doo, " and very fashionable!

If Bab could have kept her hat on! But she couldn't, and the moment itcame off they all cried out:--

"Why-ee, Barbara!" and turned away to laugh. 

If Mrs. McQuilken had been there she would have said the child looked"as if she was possessed of the fox. "

"The little goosies! Let them enjoy it!" whispered Mrs. Hale to Mrs. Dunlee. "But those topknots will have to come down before the child cango to the dinner-table. "

And then both the ladies laughed privately behind a large tree. Themountain air was doing them good, and they often had as merry timestogether as the young people. 

"Hear the boyoes, " cried Edith, meaning Jimmy and Nate, who had nowreached the air-castle and were shouting with all their might. Thechildren ran, and so indeed did the older ones, for there was anexcellent path all the way. 

"So that is the air-castle, " exclaimed Kyzie, when they were all withinsight of it. "It's a real house, built right in the mountain. "

She was right. There happened to be a great crack right here in therocky side of the mountain, and a cunning little house had been tuckedinto the crack. It was built of small stones. It had two real windowswith glass panes, and a real door with a brass knocker, which thechildren declared was "too cute for anything. "

"The house is as strong as a fort, " said Uncle James. "Do you observe itis walled all around with stones?"

"Do you know who built it?" asked Aunt Vi; "and why he built it?"

"A rich Mexican named Bandini. He admired the view from the mountain, and I don't blame him, do you? He wanted a nice, quiet place where hecould read and write; that was why he came here. He has been here everysummer for years. "

"Well, " said Mr. Dunlee, "if you call this an air-castle I must say itis the most solid one I ever heard of! It doesn't look dreamy at all. Why, an earthquake could hardly shake it. "

"The steps that lead up to it are not dreamy either, " said Mrs. Dunlee. "Real granite; and there's a large flag up there floating from theevergreen tree. "

The "boyoes" had already climbed the steps, and Nate called down to Mrs. Dunlee, "It's the Mexican flag!" But she had known that at a glance. Thecolors were red, white, and green, and the device was an eagle on aprickly pear with a snake in his mouth. 

"I wonder if there's anybody at home, " said Nate, and would have liftedthe knocker if Jimmy had not said, "Wait for Uncle James. "

Jimmy thought as Uncle James was the leader of the expedition he shouldbe the one to do the knocking, or at any rate to tell them when toknock. Nate himself had not thought of this. He was not so refined asJimmy, either by nature or by training. 

Everybody had climbed the steps now. The older people were enjoying themagnificent view; but Bab and Lucy were looking for the two toads whohad been seen going up to the castle together, the well toad taking thelame toad's foot in his mouth. 

"I wish they were both here, " said Uncle James, "for you would like tosee them take that little journey. "

"And the Mexican who built this air-castle, " said Aunt Vi, "is he herethis summer?"

"No, he died last spring. "

"Died?" echoed little Eddo, who had heard that dying means "going up inthe sky. " "What made him die, mamma? Didn't he like it down here?"

Then without waiting for a reply he added most tenderly andunexpectedly, "Isn't it nice that _you're_ not dead, mamma?"

"Why do you think that, my son?" she asked, wondering what he would say. 

"Oh, _be_-cause I _am_ so glad about it. " And at this sweet littlespeech his mother caught him up in her arms and kissed him. How couldshe help it?

"Now, " said Uncle James, "let us see if we can enter the castle. 'Openlocks whoever knocks. ' Try it, boys. "

Nate lifted the knocker and pounded with a will. There was no answer orsign of life. 

"Let's see if this will help us, " said Uncle James, taking a key fromhis vest pocket:--

 "For I'm the keeper of the keys, And I do whatever I please. "

The key actually fitted the lock, the door opened at once, and they allentered the castle. 

"Mr. Templeton lent me the key, " explained Mr. Sanford. "He said thecastle was as empty as a last year's bird's nest, but I thought we mightlike to take a look at it. "

"We do, oh, we do, " said Lucy. "Isn't it queer? Just two rooms andnothing in 'em at all! Oh, Bab, let's you and I bring some dishes uphere and keep house! Here's a cupboard right in the wall. "

"I guess it's Mother Hubbard's cupboard, it looks bare enough. Just atable in the room and one old chair, " exclaimed Edith. 

"I'm glad we came in, though, " said Kyzie. "Isn't it beautiful to standin the door and look down, down, and see Castle Cliff right at yourfeet? And off there a city--Why, what's that noise?"

No one answered. The older people knew the sound: it was that of anangry rattlesnake out of doors shaking his rattle. 

Mr. Dunlee said:--

"Stay in the house, please, you ladies, and keep the children here. James and I will go out and attend to this. "

He had an alpenstock, Uncle James a cane. The ladies and Mr, Hale andthe children watched the two gentlemen from the window, --all but littleEddo, whose mother was playing bo-peep with him to prevent him fromlooking out. A handsome rattlesnake was winding his way up the mountainin pursuit of a tiny baby rabbit. The little "cotton-tail" was runningfor the castle as fast as he could, intending to hide in a hole underthe door-stone. But he never would have reached the door-stone alive, poor little trembling creature, if Mr. Dunlee and Uncle James had notcome up just in time to finish the cruel snake with cane and alpenstock. Bunny got away safe, without even stopping to say, "Thank you. " Thesnake wore seven rattles, of which he was very proud; but Eddo had themnext day for a plaything, and made as much noise with them as ever thesnake had done; though Eddo never knew where they came from. 

It had been a delightful day, and when the friends all met again attable they kept saying, "Didn't we have a good time?"

It was to be noticed that Barbara's "topknots" had disappeared; and Iam glad to say that she never wore her lovely hair "pompy-doo" again. 

Kyzie's face was alight. In passing the door of her mother's room shehad heard her father say, laughing:--

"What, our Katharine? Why, how that would amuse Mr. Templeton!"

Kyzie had hurried away for fear of listening; but now she keptthinking:--

"Papa laughed. He always laughs when he is going to say 'yes. ' He'lltalk to Mr. Templeton, and I just know I shall have the school Isn't itsplendid?"

VI

"GRANDMA GRAYMOUSE"

"Hoopty-Doo!" shouted Jimmy, alighting on the piazza on all fours. "Alittle girl like that keep school!"

"Well, she is going to, " returned Edith, looking up from the picture shewas drawing of a cherub in the clouds, "she's going to; and Mr. Templeton says the Castle Cliff people are as pleased as they can be. "

"I heard what he said, " struck in Nate. "He said they jumped at it likea dolphin at a silver spoon. "

"He's always talking about that dolphin and that silver spoon, " laughedEdith. "If I knew how a dolphin looks, I'd draw one and give it to himjust for fun. But mamma, you don't expect me to go to school to thatlittle girl; now do you?"

"Certainly not, Edith; oh, no. "

"Must _I_ go to Grandmother Graymouse?" whined Jimmy, "She's only mysister. And I came up here to play. "

"Play all you like, my son. No one will ask you to go school. "

"But _I_ really want to go, " said Nate. "I wouldn't miss it foranything. A girl's school like that will be larks. Only four hoursanyway, two in the forenoon and two in the afternoon. Time enough leftfor play. "

"H'm, if that's all, let's go, " cried Jimmy. "We can leave off any timewe get tired of it. "

Kyzie heard this as she was crossing the hall. 

"Why, boys, " she said, "you don't live in Castle Cliff! It's the CastleCliff children I'm going to teach--the little ones, you know. "

"But papa said if you'd show me about my arithmetic--" began Nate. 

"Perhaps I don't know so much as you do, Nate. But if you go you'll begood, won't you--you and Jimmy both?"

She spoke with some concern. "For if you're naughty, the other boys willthink they can be naughty too; and I shan't know what in the world to dowith them. "

"Oh, we'll sit up as straight as ninepins; we'll show 'em how city boysbehave, " said Nate, making a bow to Kyzie. 

He could be a perfect little gentleman when he chose. He liked to teaseJimmy, younger than himself, but had always been polite to Kyzie. StillKyzie did not altogether like the thought of having a boy of twelve fora pupil. What if he should laugh at her behind his slate?

Here Barbara and Lucy appeared upon the veranda, holding Edith's newkitty between them. 

"We're going. We'll sit together and cut out paper dolls and eat figsunder the seat, " declared Lucy, never doubting that this would bepleasing news to the young teacher. 

Before Kyzie had time to say, "Why, Lucy!" little Eddo ran up the stepsto ask in haste:--

"Where's Lucy going? I fink I'll go too. "

Kyzie could bear no more. She ran and hid in the hammock and cried. Theyall thought she was to have a sort of play-school; did they? They weregoing just for fun. She must talk to mamma. Mamma thought the school wasfoolish business; but mamma always knew what ought to be done, and howto help do it. Or if mamma ever felt puzzled, there was papa to goto, --papa, who could not possibly make a mistake. Between them theywould see that their eldest daughter was treated fairly. 

Monday morning came. Kyzie's courage had revived. Eddo would be kept athome; Lucy and Bab had been informed that they were not to cut paperdolls, though they might write on their slates. All that they thought ofjust now, the dear "little two, " was of dressing to "look exactlyalike. " As Bab had learned once for all that her hair would not curl, she spent half an hour that morning braiding her auntie's ringlets downher back, and tying the cue with a pink ribbon like her own. But for allthe little barber could do the flaxen cue would not lie flat. It was anold story, but very provoking. 

"Oh dear, " wailed Lucy, "'most school-time and my hair is all _over_ myhead!"

It did look wild. You could almost fancy it was angry because it hadnot been allowed to curl after its own graceful fashion. 

The "little two" started off in good season, hoping not to be seen byEddo; but he espied them from the window, and they heard him callingtill his baby voice was lost in the distance:--

"You ought to not leave me! You ought to not leave m-e-e!"

"He wants to go everywhere big people go. "

"Yes, " responded Bab. "Such babies think they are as old as anybody. Oh, see that Mexican dog, how straight his tail stands up!"

"Like your hair, " sighed Lucy. "If my hair would only be straight likethat!"

And neither of them smiled at this droll remark. 

"But there's one thing we must remember, Bab. I'm glad I thought of it. We must say, 'Miss' to Kyzie. "

"Miss what?"

"Miss Dunlee. If we forget it, she'll feel dreadfully. " And then theybegan to hum a tune and keep step to the music. They often did this asthey walked. 

Kyzie had gone on before them. Her father was with her, but she had thekey in her hand and opened the schoolhouse door. They walked intogether, and Kyzie locked the door behind them, for several childrenwere waiting about who must not enter till the bell rang. 

The schoolhouse floor was very clean; the new teacher herself had sweptit. On the walls were large wreaths of holly, which had been left overfrom last Christmas, when the Sunday-school had had a celebration here. At one end of the room was a raised platform with a large desk on it. On the wall over the desk was a motto made of red pepper berries, onlythe words were so close together that you could not make them out unlessyou knew beforehand what they were. 

"That means, 'Christ is risen, '" explained Kyzie. "It looks dreadfully, but they didn't want it taken down, I'll make another by and by. "

There were blackboards on three sides of the room; quite clean theylooked now. The desks and benches were rude ones of black oak, and hadbeen hacked by jack-knives. Kyzie regretted this, but supposed the boyshad not been taught any better. There was only one chair in the room, alarge armed chair for the little teacher, and it stood solemnly on theplatform before the desk. 

"You see, papa, I've brought a big blank-book to write the names in. Thepen and inkstand belong here. Ahem, I begin to tremble, " said she, andlooked at her mother's watch which she wore in her belt. "It's fiveminutes of nine. "

"Oh, you'll do famously, " said Mr. Dunlee. "And now, daughter, I'll wishyou good-by and the very best luck in the world. "

"Good-by, papa, " said Kyzie, and locked the door after him. "I wish I'dasked him to stay till I called them in and took their names. Papa is sodignified that it would have been a great help. My, I feel as if Iweren't more than six years old!"

She walked the floor, watch in hand. "Fifty seconds of nine. "

She went to the bell-rope and pulled with both hands. It was quiteneedless to use so much force. The bell was directly over her head; andinstead of the "mellow lin-lan-lone" she expected, it made a din sotremendous that it almost seemed as if the roof were about to fall uponher. At the same time there was a scrambling and pounding at the door. The children were trying to get in. 

"Oh, miserable me, I've locked them out!" thought the little teacher indismay. 

She hastened to the door and opened it, and they rushed in with a shout. This was an odd beginning; but Kyzie said not a word. She rememberedthat she was now Miss Dunlee, so she threw back her shoulders and lookedher straightest and tallest, and as much as possible like Miss Prince, her favorite teacher. She had intended all along to imitate MissPrince--whenever she could think of it. 

Only fourteen years old! Well, what of that? Grandma Parlin had beenonly fourteen when she taught _her_ first school. Keep a brave heart, Katharine Dunlee!

Joe Rolfe walked in as stiffly as a wooden soldier. Behind him came afew boys and girls, some of them with their fingers in their mouths. There were twelve in all. The last ones to enter were Nate and Jimmy, followed by Aunt Lucy and her niece arm in arm. 

"I wonder if Nate is laughing at me for locking the door?" thoughtKyzie, not daring to look at him, as she waved her hands and said in aloud voice to be heard above the noise:--

"All please be seated. "

Being seated was a work of time; and what a din it made! The childrenwandered about, trying one bench after another to see which they likedbest. 

"You would think they were getting settled for life, " whispered Nate toJimmy. 

The "little two" chose a place near the west window and began at onceto write on their slates. 

"I'm scared of Miss Dunlee, " wrote Aunt Lucy. 

"Stop making me laugh, " replied the niece. 

When at last everybody was "settled for life, " Kyzie did not know whatto do next. "What would Miss Prince do? Why she would read in the Bible. I forgot that. "

The new teacher took her stand on the platform behind the desk, openedher Bible, and read aloud the twenty-third Psalm. Her voice shook, partly from fright, partly from trying so hard not to laugh. But she didnot even smile--far from it. Nate and Jimmy who were watching her couldhave told you that. If she had been at a funeral she could hardly havelooked more solemn. 

Jimmy touched Nate's foot under the bench; Nate gave Jimmy a shove; Babgazed hard at Lucy's flaxen cue; Lucy gazed straight at her thumb. 

After the reading "Miss Dunlee" walked about with her blank-book in onehand and her pen in the other to take down the children's names. 

"I'm Joseph Rolfe; don't you remember me?" said the boy with red hair. "And this boy next seat is Chicken Little. "

"No, I ain't either, I'm Henry Small, " corrected the little fellow, ready to cry. 

Kyzie shook her finger at both the boys and resolved that "Joe shouldstop calling names, and Henry should stop being such a cry-baby. "

Annie Farrell was a dear little girl in a blue and white gingham gown, and the new teacher loved her at once. Dorothy Pratt was little morethan a baby, and when spoken to she put her apron to her eyes and wantedto go home. 

"She can't go home, " said her older sister Janey, "mamma's cookin' forcompany!"

Kyzie patted the baby's tangled hair and sent Janey to get her somewater. 

"I'll go, " spoke up Jack Whiting, aged seven. "Janey isn't big enough. Besides the pail leaks. "

"I'm so glad Edith isn't here, " thought Kyzie, "or we should both get togiggling. There, it's time now to call them out to read. Let me see, where is the best crack in the floor for them to stand on? Why didn't Ibring a quarter of a dollar with a hole in it for a medal? Oh, the medalwill be for the spelling-class; that was what Grandma Parlin said. "

It seemed a "ling-long" forenoon, and the little teacher rejoiced wheneleven o'clock came. The family at home looked at her curiously, andUncle James asked outright, "Tell us, Grandmother Graymouse, how do thescholars behave?"

"Well, I suppose they behaved as well as they knew how; but oh, it makesme so hungry!"

She could not say whether she liked teaching or not. 

"Wait till Friday night, Uncle James, and then I'll tell you. "

"Well said, Grandmother Graymouse! You couldn't have made a wiserremark. We'll ask no further questions till Friday night. "

But when Friday night came they were all thinking of something else, something quite out of the common; and "Grandmother Graymouse" and herschool were forgotten. 

VII

THE ZEBRA KITTEN

It began with Zee. By this time her young mistress had become very muchattached to her; and so indeed had all the "Dunlee party. " Even Mrs. Dunlee petted the kitten and said she was the most graceful creature shehad ever seen, except, perhaps, the dancing horse, Thistleblow. Eddoloved her because "she hadn't any pins in her feet" and did not resenthis rough handling. The "little two" loved her because she allowed themto play all sorts of games with her. They could make believe she wasvery ill and tuck her up in bed, and she would swallow meekly suchmedicine as alum with salt and water without even a mew. 

"She is so amiable, " said Edith. "And then that wonderful tail of hers, mamma! 'Twould bring, I don't know how much money, at a cat fair. It's aregular _prize_ tail, you see!"

An animal like this merited extra care. She was not to be put off likean everyday cat with saucers of milk and scraps of meat; she must havethe choicest bits from the table. 

"Mrs. McQuilken says the best-fed cats make the best mousers, " saidEdith. 

"Is that so, Miss Edith? Then the mice here at Castle Cliff haven't longto live!" laughed good-natured Mr. Templeton, as he handed Zee's littlemistress a pitcher of excellent cream. 

Edith was very grateful to Mrs. McQuilken for this remarkable kitten. She had taken much pains with her pencil drawing of a cherub in theclouds, intending it as a present for the eccentric old lady. 

"Do you suppose she'll like it, mamma? You know she's so odd that onenever can tell. "

Mrs. Dunlee was sure the picture would be appreciated. The cherub'ssweet face looked like Eddo's, and the clouds lay about him very softly, leaving bare his pretty dimpled feet, and hands, and arms, and neck. OnFriday afternoon Edith took the picture in her hand and knocked with abeating heart at the door of Number Five. 

"Mrs. Me--McQuilken, " said she, in a timid voice, on entering the room, "you're so fond of pictures that I thought I'd bring you one I drewmyself. I'm afraid it's not so very, very good; but I hope you'll likeit just a little. "

[Illustration]

Mrs. McQuilken was much surprised as well as gratified; and actuallythere were tears in her eyes as she took the offering from Edith's hand. She was a lonely old body, and never expected much attention from anyone, especially from children. 

"Why, how kind of you, my dear! It's a beauty!" she exclaimed, gazing atthe cherub through her spectacles. She was a good judge of pictures. "That face is well drawn, and the clouds are fleecy. Did you really doit your own self--and for me? Thank you, dear child!"

Edith blushed with pleasure. She had by no means counted on such praise. 

"I'll always be kind to old people after this, " she thought. "I believethey care more about it than you think they do. "

But here they were interrupted by the very loud mewing of a cat out ofdoors. They both ran downstairs to see what it meant. 

"I do hope and trust it isn't my Zee, " cried Edith in alarm. 

But it was. They did not see her at first; she was in the back yardbehind the hotel. It seems a pan of clams had been left standing on theback door-step; and Zee must have been frolicking about the pan, neverdreaming any live creature was in it, when one of the clams, attractedby her black waving tail, had caught the tip of the tail in his mouthand was holding it fast!

This was pretty severe. Being only an ignorant bivalve, the clam did notknow that what he had in his mouth was a very precious article, the"prize tail" of a beautiful cat. But having once taken hold of it, theclam was too obstinate to let go. 

Poor Zee jumped up and down, and ran around in circles, mewing with allher might. What had happened she did not know; she only knew some heavything was dragging at her tail and pinching it fearfully. Every one inthe back of the house was busy; no one but Eddo heard Zee's cries. Heran to the maid to ask "what made the kitty sing so sorry?" Whenever shemewed he called it singing. 

The maid looked out then and threw down her mixing-spoon for laughing. It was an odd sight to see a cat prancing about, waving her plume-liketail with a clam at the end of it! Nancy was sorry for the kitten, butdid not know how in the world to get off the clam. 

"Take an axe! Take a hatchet!" cried Mrs. McQuilken. 

And without waiting for Nancy she seized a hatchet herself, split theshell of the clam, and let poor kitty free. 

When Kyzie got home from school, Mrs. McQuilken had just mended Zee'sbleeding member with a piece of court-plaster. All the boarders weregrouped about on the lawn and veranda talking it over. Mrs. Dunlee heldin her lap a very forlorn and crumpled little bundle of kitty; and Edithand Eddo were crying as if their hearts would break. 

"That beautiful, beautiful tail!" sobbed Edith. 

"Don't be unhappy about it, darling, " said Aunt Vi, "it will heal intime. "

"I know 't will heal, auntie; but what I'm thinking of is, won't it bestiff? Aren't you afraid 'twill lose the--the--_expression of thewiggle?_"

No one even smiled at the question; everybody tried to comfort Edith. And right in the midst of this trying scene another event occurred of adifferent sort, but far more serious. It was little wonder that nobodyonce thought of saying to Kyzie:--

"Well, Grandma Graymouse, you promised to tell us to-night how you likeyour school. "

The school was quite forgotten, and so was the injured kitten. Ithappened in this way: As soon as the kitten had been placed in a basketof cotton and seemed tolerably comfortable, Jimmy and "the little two"went along the road as they often did to watch for the stage. "Thecolonel" might be coming now at almost any time, to find the lost veinof the gold mine, and they wanted to see him first of any one. Lucy hadher papa's watch fastened to the waist of her dress, and took greatpleasure in seeing the hands move. This was not the first time she hadbeen allowed to carry the watch, and she was very proud because papa hadjust said, "See how I trust my little girl. "

Jimmy had Uncle James's spy-glass. 

"Nate thinks the colonel won't come till to-morrow; but I expect himto-night. Let's go farther up, " said Jimmy-boy. 

They all climbed a little way and stood on a rock gazing down toward thedusty road. They could see the roofs of several houses, and Lucy askedwhy there was so much wire on them. 

"Oh, that's to hold the chimneys on, " was Jimmy's reply. 

"How queer!"

"Not queer at all. I've seen lots of chimneys tied on that way. "

Bab doubted this, but Lucy was proud to think how much Jimmy knew. 

"Six minutes past five, " said she, looking at the watch again. "It takesthese little hands just as long to go round this little face as it takesa clock's hands to go round a clock's face. How funny!"

"Not funny at all, " said Jimmy. "They're made that way. But be careful, Lucy Dunlee, or you'll drop that watch. I shouldn't have thought papawould have let you bring it up here. Did you tell him where we weregoing?"

"No, I never, " replied Lucy with a sudden prick of conscience. "I didn'tknow we'd go so far. 'Twas you that spoke and said we'd go higher up. "

"Well, you'd better let me take it, Lucy. I'm older than you are, andI've got a little pocket, too, just the right size to hold it. "

Lucy hesitated, not wishing to part with the watch, and not at all surethat it would be safer with Jimmy than with herself. He was not a famouscare-taker. 

"I don't see why you want to get it away when papa lent it to me andit's fastened on so tight. How do I know papa would be willing?"

As she spoke, however, Jimmy was fingering the little chain to see ifhe could undo the clasp which held it to her dress. 

"There, I don't believe you could have got it off, Lucy, you didn't knowhow. "

"Why, I never tried--papa fastened it on himself--oh, Jimmy-boy, youwill be so careful of it, now won't you?"

For the watch lay in his hand, and she did not know how to get it backagain. When he had set his heart on anything Lucy usually gave up. Barbara looked on in disapproval as the big brother put the watch in hispocket. 

It had long been Jimmy's unspoken wish to have a watch of his very ownlike Nate Pollard and various other boys. How rich and handsome theshort gold chain looked! What a bright spot it made as it dangled downhis new jacket. He gazed at it admiringly, while Bab and Lucy tookturns in looking through the spy-glass. 

"The stage is coming, " they cried. Then they all started and ran downthe mountain; but as the stage drove up to the hotel no colonelalighted, or at least, no one who looked like a colonel. Jimmy wasplaying with the short gold chain which made a bright spot on hisjacket. He meant to restore the watch to its owner at dinner-time; butit was early, he was not going in yet. And there was Nate Pollardthrowing up his cap and looking ready for a frolic. 

"I stump you to catch me!" said Nate. 

"Poh, I can catch you and not half try. "

Jimmy-boy was agile, Nate rather heavily built and clumsy. But if Jimmyhad suspected what a foolhardy project was in Nate's mind he would haveheld back from the race. 

As it was, they both planted themselves against a tree, shouted, "One, two, three!" and off they started. No one was watching, no oneremembered afterward which way they were going. 

VIII

STEALING A CHIMNEY

The "knitting-woman" sat knitting in her chamber that looked up themountain side, and thinking how the zebra kitten had suffered from herenemy, the clam. Mrs. McQuilken's own cats were most of them asleep; theblind canary was eating her supper of hemp-seed; and the noisy magpiehad run off to chat with the dog and hens. The room seemed remarkablyquiet. Mrs. McQuilken narrowed two stitches and glanced out of thewindow. 

"Mercy upon us!" she exclaimed, though there was not a soul to hear her. "Mercy upon us, what are those boyoes doing atop of that house?"

In her astonishment she actually dropped her knitting-work on the floorand rushed out of the room crying, "Fire!" though there was not a sparkof fire to be seen. 

The "boyoes" were Nate and Jimmy. Nate had said to Jimmy just as theystarted on the race:--

"You won't dare follow where I lead;" and Jimmy, stung by the defianttone, had answered:--

"Poh, yes, I will! Who's afraid?" never once suspecting that Nate wasgoing to climb the ridge-pole of a house!

The house was a small cabin painted green, but there were people livingin it, and nothing could be ruder than to storm it in this way, as bothboys knew. 

"Why, Nate why, _Nate_, what are you doing?"

"Ho, needn't come if you're scared, " retorted Nate. 

"Who said I was scared? But I'm not your 'caddy, ' I won't go anotherstep, " gasped Jimmy. 

Still he did not stop climbing. Hadn't Nate "stumped" him; and hadn't he"taken the stump, " agreeing to follow his lead? Besides, Nate wasalready on the roof, and it was necessary to catch him at once. 

Jimmy reached the roof easily enough and darted toward Nate with botharms out-stretched. But by that time Nate had turned around and begun toslide down another ridge-pole, shouting:--

"Here, my caddy, here I am; catch me, caddy!"

It was most exasperating. Jimmy saw that he had been outwitted. On thesolid earth, running a fair race, the chances were that he could havebeaten Nate. But was this a fair race?

"No, I'll leave it out to anybody if it's fair! Nate Pollard is themeanest boy in California, " thought angry Jimmy, as he started to followhis leader down the ridge-pole. 

At this moment something hit him just below the knee and held him fast. In his haste he had not stopped to notice that the chimney was of thevery sort he had just described to Lucy--built of tiles and held on tothe roof by wires. He was caught in these wires; and whenever he triedto move he found he was actually pulling the chimney after him! Nate, safely landed on the ground, called back to him in triumph:--

"Hello, Jimmy-cum-jim! Hello, my caddy! Where are you? Why don't youcome along?"

Jimmy was coming as fast as he could. He lay face downward, slidingalong toward the edge of the roof, and carrying with him that mostundesirable chimney! What would become of him if he should fallhead-first with the chimney on his back?

It was a rough scramble; but he managed to turn over before he reachedthe ground--so that he landed on his feet. The chimney landed near him, a wreck. Jimmy was unhurt except for a few scratches. But oh, it wasdreadful to hear himself laughed at, not only by that mischievous Nate, but by half a dozen other boys and a few grown people, who had collectedon the spot; among them the landlord and Mrs. McQuilken. 

Not that any one could be blamed for laughing. Jimmy was a comicalobject. In carrying away a chimney which did not belong to him, he hadof course torn his clothes frightfully and left big pieces sticking onthe broken wires of the roof. A more "raggety" boy never was seen. 

"Wouldn't he make a good scarecrow?" said the landlord, shaking hissides. "Jimmum, chimney, and all!"

It was necessary to tear his clothes still more in order to get themfree from the tangle of wires. As the poor young culprit creptunwillingly back to the hotel all the cats, dogs, donkeys, and chickensin Castle Cliff seemed to combine in a chorus of mewing, barking, braying, and cackling to inform the whole world that here was a boy whohad stolen a chimney!

What wretched little beggar was this coming to the house? No one thoughtof its being Jimmy Dunlee. 

"We caught this young rogue stealing a chimney, " said Mr. Templeton. 

It seemed funny at first, and the Dunlees and Sanfords and Hales alllaughed heartily, till it occurred to them that the dear child had beenin actual danger; and then they drew long breaths and shuddered, thinking how he might have pitched headlong to the ground and beencrushed by the weight of the chimney. 

"But my little son, " asked Mrs. Dunlee presently, when the child wasonce more respectably clad, and was walking down to dinner betweenherself and Aunt Vi, "but my little son, what could have possessed youto climb a roof? Was that a nice thing to do?"

"No, mamma, of course not. But 'twas all Nate Pollard's fault. Natestumped me to it and I took the stump. "

"What _do_ you mean?"

"Why, he said, 'You won't dare follow me, ' and I said, 'Yes, I would. 'And I never mistrusted where he was going. Who'd have thought of hisclimbing top of a house?"

"Why, Jamie Dunlee, you did not follow Nate without knowing where hewas going?"

"Yes, mamma; if I _had_ known I wouldn't have followed. But you see hehad stumped me and I'd taken the stump, so I was _obliged_ to go!"

"Obliged to go!" repeated Aunt Vi, laughing, "Isn't that characteristicof Jimmy?"

The little fellow felt guiltier than ever. When Aunt Vi used that wordof five syllables it always meant that people had done very wrong, so hethought. 

"Jamie, " said his mother very seriously, "I am surprised that you shouldhave promised to follow Nate without knowing where he was going! And younever even asked him where he was going! Is that the way you play, youboys?"

"No, mamma, it isn't. Nate makes you play his way because he's theoldest. He's just as mean! But I couldn't back out after I wasstumped. "

"Oh, fie! Backing out is exactly the thing to do when a boy is trying tolead you into mischief! But we'll talk more of this by and by. "

As they entered the dining-room, Jimmy squared his shoulders and wouldnot look toward Nate's table; and Nate, who had been severely reprovedby his parents, never once raised his eyes from his plate. No one feltvery happy. Jimmy's new suit was ruined; and Mr. Dunlee had alreadylearned that it would cost ten dollars to restore the tile chimney. Norwas this all. While Jimmy was trying to console himself with ice-creamhe suddenly thought of his father's watch! It must have dropped out ofhis pocket when he slid down the roof; but where, oh, where was it now?Was it still on the ground, or had some one picked it up? Joe Rolfe hadbeen there, so had Chicken Little and a dozen others. He must go andlook for that watch, he must go this minute. 

"Mamma, " he murmured, pushing aside his saucer of ice-cream, "may I--mayI be excused?"

There was no answer; his mother had not heard him. 

"Mamma, " in a louder tone, "oh, mamma!"

"What is it, my son?"

Seeing by his unhappy face that something was wrong, she noddedpermission for him to leave the table; and at the same time arose andfollowed him into the hall. 

"Dear child, what is the matter?"

"Papa's watch, " he moaned. "I'm afraid somebody will steal it. "

As Mrs. Dunlee knew nothing whatever about the watch this sounded verystrange. She wondered if Jimmy had really been hurt by his fall and wasout of his head. 

"Why, my precious little boy, " said she, taking his hot hand in hers. "Papa's watch is safe in his vest pocket. Nobody is going to steal it. "

Jimmy looked immensely relieved. 

"Oh, has he got it back again? I'm so glad! Where did he find it?"

"Darling, " said Mrs. Dunlee, now really alarmed. "Come upstairs withmamma. Does your head ache? I think it will be best for you to go rightto bed. "

But Jimmy persisted in talking about the watch. 

"Where did papa find it? He let Lucy have it; don't you know?"

"No, I did not know. "

"And I took it away from Lucy. I was afraid she'd lose it. Andthen, --oh, dear, oh, dear, --then I went and lost it myself!"

Mrs. Dunlee understood it all now. Jimmy's head was clear enough; heknew perfectly well what he was talking about. The watch was gone, avery valuable one. Search must be made for it at once. Without waitingto speak to her husband, Mrs. Dunlee put on her hat and went with Jimmyup the hill. He limped a little from the bruise of his fall and shesteadied him with her arm as they walked. 

IX

"CHICKEN LITTLE" AND JOE

The man and woman who lived in the green cottage had gone to aneighbor's to stay till their chimney should be fastened on again. Therewas no one in sight. 

"Here's the place where I went up, " said Jimmy, laying his hand on oneof the ridge-poles. "And here's the place where I came down, " pointingto another ridge-pole. 

Mrs. Dunlee was stooping and looking around carefully. There was not atuft of grass or a clump of weeds behind which even a small articlecould be hidden, much less a large bright object like a gold watch. Shetook a wooden pencil from her pocket and scraped the earth with it; butonly disturbed a few ants and beetles. If the watch had ever beendropped here, it certainly was not here now. She and Jimmy turned andwalked home in the twilight, --or as Mrs. McQuilken called it, "thedimmets, " and poor Jimmy drew a cloud of gloom about him like a cloak. 

They looked on the ground at every step of the way. 

"There's a piece of chaparral over there. Did you go through that?"asked Mrs. Dunlee. 

"No, I never, I'm sure I never. I walked in the road right straightalong. Oh, mamma, if I've lost that watch 'twill break my heart. ButI'll pay papa for it, you see if I don't! I'll save every penny I getand put it together and pay papa!"

Mrs. Dunlee did not reply for a moment; she took time to reflect. Jimmywas a dear boy, but very heedless. He had done wrong in the first placeto take the watch from Lucy without his father's permission. He must betaught to respect other people's property and other people's rights. Hemust learn to think, and learn to be careful. Here was a chance for alesson. 

"Jamie, " said she at last, "I am glad you wish to atone for the wrongyou have done; it shows a proper spirit. I agree with you that if thewatch isn't found you ought to give papa what you can toward paying forit. That is no more than fair. "

"I want to, mamma, I just want to!" burst forth Jimmy. "I wish I waslittle like Eddo, before 'twas wrong for me to be naughty. "

His mother took him in her arms and kissed him, for he was so tired andmiserable that he could not keep the tears back another moment. 

Friday night passed and most of Saturday; and though diligent searchwas made, the watch was not found. 

"Poor papa!" said Kyzie. "He doesn't say much; but how sober he looks!Grandma Dunlee gave him that watch, Jimmy, when he was a young man; andhe did love it so!"

"I know it. Oh, dear, how can he stand it?" responded jimmy, who hadbeen deeply touched from the first by his father's forbearance. "Mr, Pollard punished Nate dreadfully, you know; but here's Papa Dunlee, why, he hasn't even scolded!"

Papa Dunlee was a wise man. He saw that his little son was sufferingenough already; he was learning a hard lesson, and perhaps would learnit all the better for being left alone with his own conscience. 

On Sunday afternoon the boy was very disconsolate, and Mr. Dunlee pattedhim on the head, saying:--

"Maybe we'll find the watch yet, my son. And anyway, I know Jimmumdidn't mean to lose it. "

Then he sat down to read, and Jimmy gazed at him reverently. Thesunshine about his head seemed almost like a halo, and the boy thoughtof the angels, and wondered if they could possibly be any better thanpapa!

"Papa is the best man! Never was cross in his life. I should be cross asfury! I should shake _my_ boy all to pieces if he should carry off mygold watch and drop it in the sand!"

Monday morning came and the missing article did not appear. Everybodylooked troubled. Edith walked about, carrying her lame kitten in abasket, and saying:--

"Zee is getting better all the while, but how can I be happy when papa'swatch is lost!"

"Who knows but I shall be the one to find it?" returned Katharine witha mysterious smile, as she was leaving the house. 

"You forgot to tell us, and we forgot to ask you, How do you like yourschool?" said Aunt Vi. 

"Oh, ever so much, auntie. I'm making it just as old-fashioned as I can. I'm going to write Grandma Parlin this week and ask her if what I do isold-fashioned enough. Good-by. "

Jimmy was waiting for her down the path. 

"What makes you think you'll find the watch, Kyzie?"

"Oh, I don't know, myself, what I meant. I just said it for fun. "

"Well, do you think Joe Rolfe has got it, or Chicken Little? That's whatI want to know. "

"Hush, Jimmy! Papa wouldn't allow you to speak names in that way. Somebody stole it, I suppose, but we don't know who it was. "

Still Kyzie's face wore a stern look that morning. It was a thing not tobe spoken of, but she had resolved to "keep an eye" on two or three ofthe boys, and see if there was anything peculiar in their appearance. Should one of them blush or turn pale when spoken to, it would be a suresign of guilt, and she should go home and announce with triumph to herfather:--

"Papa, I've found out the thief!"

The scholars all appeared pretty much as usual; raising their hands veryoften to ask, "May I speak?" or, "May I have a drink of water?" Thelittle teacher had always wished they would not do so, but how could shehelp it? It was "an old-fashioned school, " perhaps that was why it wasso noisy. Whatever went wrong, Kyzie always said to herself, "Oh, it'sjust an old-fashioned school. "

Nate Pollard and Jimmy sat to-day as far apart as possible, almostturning their backs upon each other. At the bottom of his heart Nate wastruly ashamed of himself, though he would not have owned it. There werefive new scholars, and Katharine wrote down their names with much pride. Best of all, some of the children really seemed to be trying to gettheir lessons. 

She had never known Joe Rolfe to study like this. "Is it because he isguilty?" thought the little teacher watching him from under hereyebrows. She walked along toward him so softly that he did not hear herfootsteps. 

"Joseph!" she exclaimed, suddenly. Her voice startled him; he looked upin surprise. 

"I'm glad to see you studying, Joseph. "

Did he blush? His face was of a brownish red hue at any time, beingmuch tanned; she could not be quite sure of the blush. But why did helook so sober? Children generally smile when they are praised. 

She had been to Bab and Lucy and said, "How still you are, darlings!"and they had seemed delighted. 

Next she tried Chicken Little. He certainly jumped when she spoke hisname close to his ear, "Henry. " Now why should he jump and seem soconfused unless he knew he had done something wrong? She forgot that hewas a very timid boy. 

"Henry, what is the matter with you?" she asked, frowning severely. 

She had never frowned on him before, for she liked the little fellow, and was trying her best to "make a man of him. "

"What is the matter, Henry?"

By this time he was scared nearly out of his wits, and stole a sideglance at her to see if she had a switch in her hand. 

"Don't whip me, " he pleaded in a trembling voice. "Don't whip me, teacher; and I'll give you f-i-v-e thousand dollars!"

As he offered this modest sum to save himself from her wrath, the littleteacher nearly laughed aloud, Henry did not know it, however; her facewas hidden behind a book. 

"What made you think, you silly boy, that I was going to punish you?"she asked as soon as she could find her voice. "Have you done somethingwicked?"

She spoke in a low tone for his ear alone, but he writhed under it as ifit had been a blow. 

"I--don'--know. "

"He is the thief, " thought Kyzie. "Oh, Henry, if you've done somethingwrong you must know it. Tell me what it was. "

"I--can't!"

She put her lips nearer his ear. "Was it you and Joseph Rolfe together?Perhaps you _both_ did something wicked?"

"I--don'--know. "

"Was it last Friday?"

"I--don'--know!"

"Will you tell me after school?"

Henry was unable to answer. Worn out with contending emotions he put hishead down on the seat and cried. 

This did not seem like innocence. Joseph Rolfe was looking on fromacross the aisle, as if he wished very much to know what she and Henrywere talking about. 

"I'll make them tell me the whole story, the wicked boys, " thoughtKyzie, indignantly. "But I can't hurry about it; I must be verycareful. I think I'll wait till to-morrow. "

So she calmed herself and called out her classes. Katharine was a"golden girl, " and had a strong sense of justice. She would say nothingyet to her father, for the boys might possibly be innocent; still shewent home that afternoon feeling that she had almost made a discovery. 

"Good evening, Grandmother Graymouse, " said Uncle James, as they wereall seated on the veranda after dinner, "do I understand that you arehunting for a watch?"

"I'm hunting for it, oh, yes, " replied Kyzie, trying not to look tootriumphant; "but I haven't found it yet. Just wait till to-morrow, UncleJames. "

"I don't believe we'll wait another minute!" declared Mr. Sanford, looking around with a roguish smile. "I see the Dunlee people are allhere, Jimmum, Lucy, and all. Attention, my friends! The thief has beenfound!"

"What thief?" asked Mrs. Hale and Mrs. Dunlee. 

"Why, _the_ thief! The one we're looking for! The one that stole thewatch!"

"Do you really mean it?" asked the ladies again. "Did he bring it back?"

"Come and see, " said Uncle James, leading the way upstairs. 

"Of course it's Joe Rolfe, " thought Kyzie. "I suppose he was frightenedby what I said to Henry Small. "

"Is the thief in your room, Uncle James?" said Jimmy. "Why didn't youput him in jail?"

"Ah, Jimmum, do you think all thieves ought to go to jail? I once knew alittle boy who stole a chimney right off a house; yet I never heard aword said about putting _him_ in jail!

"But here we are at the chamber door. Stand behind me, all of you, insingle file. "

X

THE THIEF FOUND

"I don't know so much as I thought I did, " said Kyzie to herself. "JoeRolfe wouldn't be in this room. "

For Uncle James was knocking at the door of Number Five. 

"Walk right in, " said Mrs. McQuilken, coming to meet her guests. She hadher knitting in one hand. "Come in, all of you. Why, Mr. Templeton, areyou here too? You wouldn't have taken me into your house if you'd knownI was a thief; now would you, Mr. Templeton?"

And laughing, she put her right hand in her apron pocket and drew out agold watch and chain. 

"If this belongs to anybody present, let him step up and claim hisproperty. "

Mr. Dunlee came forward in amazement, while Jimmy gave a little squealof delight. 

"This is mine, thank you, madam, " said Mr. Dunlee, looking at the watchclosely. It seemed very much battered. 

"Dreadfully smashed up, isn't it, sir? I can't tell you how sorry I am. "

Mr. Dunlee shook it, and held it to his ear. 

"Oh, it won't go, " said Mrs. McQuilken. "The inside seems worse off, ifanything, than the outside. 'Twill have to have new works. "

"Very likely. But it is so precious to me, madam, that even in thiscondition I'm glad to get it back again. Pray, where has it been?"

"Right here in this room. Didn't you understand me to confess tostealing it? Why, you're shaking your head as if you doubted my word. "

They were all laughing now, and the old lady's eyes twinkled with fun. 

"Well, if I didn't steal it myself, one of my family did, so it amountsto the same thing. Come out here, you unprincipled girl, and beg thegentleman's pardon, " she added, kneeling and dragging forth from underthe bed a beautiful bird. 

It was her own magpie, chattering and scolding. 

"Now tell the gentleman who stole his watch? Speak up loud and clear!"

The bird flapped her wings, and cawed out very crossly:--

"Mag! Mag! Mag!"

"Hear her! Hear that!" cried her mistress. "So you did steal it, Mag--I'm glad to hear you tell the truth for once in your life. "

"Did she take the watch? Did she really and truly?" cried the childrenin chorus. 

"To be sure she did, the bad girl. She has done such things before, andI have always found her out; but this time she was too sly for me. Shewent and put it in my mending-basket; and who would have thought oflooking for it there?"

Mag tipped her head to one side saucily, and kept muttering to herself. 

"Well, I happened to go to the basket this afternoon and take up a pairof stockings to mend. They felt amazingly heavy. There was a hard wad inthem, and I wondered what it could be. I put in my hand and pulled outthe watch. Yes, 'twas tucked right into the stockings. "

"I wonder we didn't any of us mistrust her at the time of it, " said Mr. Templeton; "those magpies are dreadful thieves. "

"Well, I suppose you thought 'twas my business to take care of her, andit was. I'm ashamed of myself, " said Mrs. McQuilken. "I was looking outof the window when the boys shied over that roof, but my mind wasn't onjewelry then. All I thought of was to run and call for help. "

Yes, and it was her screams which had aroused the whole neighborhood. 

"And at that very time my Mag was roaming at large. No doubt she saw thewatch the moment it fell; and to use your expression, Mr. Templeton, shejumped at it like a dolphin at a silver spoon. "

The landlord laughed. "But the mystery is, " said he, "how she got backto the house without being seen. She must have been pretty spry. "

"O Mag, Mag, to think I never once thought to look after you!"exclaimed Mrs. McQuilken, penitently. 

The bird was scolding all the while, and running about with short, jerkymovements, trying her best to get out of the room; but the door wasclosed. 

"Pretty thing, " said Edith. "What a shame she should be a thief!"

"She is pretty, now isn't she?" returned her mistress, fondly. "Myhusband brought her from China. You don't often see a Chinese magpie, with blue plumage, --cobalt blue. "

"She's a perfect oddity, " said Mrs. Hale. "See those two centretail-feathers, so very long, barred with black and tipped with white. "

"Yes, " said Mr. Dunlee, "and the red bill and red legs. She's abrilliant creature, Mrs. McQuilken. "

"Well, you'll try to forgive her, won't you, sir? I mean to bring herup as well as I know how; but what are you going to do with a girl thatcan't sense the ten commandments?"

"What indeed!" laughed Mr. Dunlee. 

"You see she's naturally light-fingered. Yes, you are, Mag, you needn'tdeny it. Those red claws of yours are just pickers and stealers. "

Here Edith called attention to Mag's nest on the wall, and they alladmired it; and Mrs. McQuilken said the canary liked to have Mag nearhim at night, he was apt to be lonesome. 

"I wish you'd come in the daytime, " said she. "Come any and all of you, and hear him sing. He does sing so sweetly, poor blind thing; it's asgood as a sermon to hear him. "

On leaving Mrs. McQuilken the children went to Aunt Vi's room and Jimmykept repeating joyously:--

"We've found the watch, we've found the watch!"

"Yes, " said Aunt Vi; "but what a wreck it is! Your papa will have tospend a deal of money in repairing it. "

"Too bad!" said Lucy, "I 'spect 'twould cost him cheaper to buy a newone. "

"'Twouldn't cost him so much; that's what you mean, " corrected Jimmy. "But I'm going to pay for mending it anyway. "

"How can you?" asked Kyzie. "All you have is just your tin box withsilver in it. "

"Well, but don't I keep having presents? And can't I ask folks to stopgiving me toys and books and give me money? And they'll do it everytime. "

"But that would be begging. "

Jimmy's face fell. Yes, on the whole it did seem like begging. He hadnot thought of that. 

"Why can't it ever snow in this country?" he exclaimed suddenly. "Then Icould shovel it. That's the way boys make money 'back East'"

Then after a pause he burst forth again, "Or, I might pick berries--ifthere were any berries!"

"It's not so very easy for little boys to earn money; is it, dear?" saidAunt Vi, putting her arm around her young nephew and drawing him towardher. "But when they've done wrong--you still think you did wrong, don'tyou, Jimmy?"

"He knows he did, " broke in Lucy. "My papa lent me the watch. "

"She wasn't talking to you, " remonstrated Jimmy. "Yes, auntie, I didwrong; but Lucy needn't twit me of it! I won't be _characteristic_ anymore as long as I live. "

Aunt Vi smiled and patted his head lovingly. 

"No, dear, I think you'll be more thoughtful in future. But now let ustry to think what can be done to pay for the watch. "

"I'll let him have some of the money I get for teaching. I always meantto, " said Kyzie. 

"Very kind of you, " returned Aunt Vi; "but we'll not take it if we canhelp it, will we, Jimmy? I've been thinking it over for some days, children; and a little plan has occurred to me. Would you like to knowwhat it is?"

They all looked interested. If Aunt Vi had a plan, it was sure to beworth hearing. 

"It is this: mightn't we get up some entertainments, --good ones thatwould be worth paying for?"

"And sell the tickets? Oh, auntie, that's just the thing! That'scapital!" cried Edith and Kyzie. "You'd do it beautifully. "

"I'm not so sure of that, girls. But we might join together and act alittle play that I've been writing; that is, we might try. What have youto say, Jimmy? Could you help?"

"I don't know. I can't speak pieces worth a cent, " replied the boy, writhing and shuffling his feet. "Look here!" he said, brightening. "Don't you want some nails driven? I can do that first rate. "

Aunt Vi laughed and said nails might be needed in putting up a staging, and she was sure that he could use a hammer better than she could. 

Jimmy-boy, much gratified, struck an attitude, and pounding his leftpalm with his thumb, repeated the rhyme:--

 "Drive the nail straight, boys, Hit it on the head; Work with your might, boys, Ere the day has fled. "

"There, he can speak, I knew he could speak!" cried Lucy, in admiration. 

It was settled that they were all to meet Wednesday morning, and theirmother with them, to talk over the matter. 

"That's great, " said Jimmy. 

The watch was found and the world looked bright once more. True, he wasdeeply in debt; but with such a grand helper as Aunt Vi he was sure thedebt would very soon be paid. 

XI

BEGGING PARDON

Next morning Jimmy walked to school with "the little two, " whistling ashe went. Lucy had tortured her hair into a "cue, " and

 "The happy wind upon her played, Blowing the ringlet from the braid. "

"I've got the snarling-est, flying-est hair, " scolded she. "I never'llbraid it again as long as I live; so there!"

"Good!" cried Jimmy. "It has looked like fury ever since we came uphere. "

Here Nate overtook the children. He had not been very social since theaccident, but seemed now to want to talk. 

"How do you do, Jimmy?" he said: and Jimmy responded, "How d'ye doyourself?"

The little girls ran on in advance, and Jimmy would have joined them, but Nate said:---

"Hold on! What's your hurry?"

Jimmy turned then and saw that Nate was scowling and twisting hiswatch-chain. 

"I've got something to say to you--I mean papa wants me to saysomething. "

"Oh ho!"

"I don't see any need of it, but papa says I must. "

Jimmy waited, curious to hear what was coming. 

"Papa says I jollied you the other day. "

"What's that?"

"Why, fooled you. "

"So you did, Nate Pollard, and 'twas awful mean. "

[Illustration]

"It wasn't either. What made you climb that ridge-pole? You needn'thave done it just because I did. But papa says I've got to--to--ask yourpardon. "

"H'm! I should think you'd better! Tore my clothes to pieces. Smashed agold watch. "

"You hadn't any business taking that watch. "

There was a pause. 

"Look here, Jimmy Dunlee, why don't you speak?"

"Haven't anything to say. "

"Can't you say, 'I forgive you'?"

"Of course I can't. You never asked me. "

"Well, I ask you now. James S. Dunlee, will--you--forgive me?"

"H'm! I suppose I'll have to, " replied Jimmy, firing a pebble at nothingin particular. "I forgive you all right because we've found the watch. If we hadn't found it, I wouldn't! But don't you 'jolly' me again, NatePollard, or you'll catch it!"

This did not sound very forgiving; but neither had Nate's remark soundedvery penitent. Nate smiled good-naturedly and seemed satisfied. The factwas, he and Jimmy were both of them trying, after the manner of boys, tohide their real feelings. Nate knew that his conduct had been veryshabby and contemptible, and he was ashamed of it, but did not like tosay so. Jimmy, for his part, was glad to make up, but did not wish toseem too glad. 

Then they each tried to think of something else to say. They were fullyagreed that they had talked long enough about their foolish quarrel andwould never allude to it again. 

"Glad that watch has come, " said Nate. 

"So am I. It has come, but it won't _go_, " said Jimmy. And they laughedas if this were a great joke. 

Next Jimmy inquired about "the colonel, " and Nate asked: "What colonel?Oh, you mean the mining engineer. He'll be here next week with his men. "

By this time the boys were feeling so friendly that Jimmy asked Nate togo with him before school next morning to see the knitting-woman's petsand hear the blind canary sing. 

"Do you suppose the magpie will be there?" returned Nate. "I want tocatch her some time and wring her old neck. "

"Wish you would, " said Jimmy. "Hello, there's Chicken Little cryingagain. He's more of a baby than our Eddo. "

Henry was crying now because Dave Blake had called him a coward. Sovery, very unjust! He stood near the schoolhouse door, wiping his eyeson his checked apron and saying:--

"I'll go tell the teacher, Dave Blake!"

"Well, go along and tell her then. Fie, for shame!"

Henry, a feeble, petted child, was always falling into trouble andalways threatening to tell the teacher. Kyzie considered him verytiresome; but to-day when he came to her with his tale of woe, shelistened patiently, because she had done him a wrong and wished to atonefor it. She had "really and truly" suspected this simple child of acrime! He would not take so much as a pin without leave; neither wouldJoseph Rolfe. Yet in her heart she had been accusing these innocentchildren of stealing her father's watch!

"Miserable me!" thought Kyzie. "I must be very good to both of them now, to make up for my dreadful injustice!"

She went to Joe and sweetly offered to lend him her knife to whittlehis lead pencil. He looked surprised. He did not know she had everwronged him in her heart. 

She wiped Henry's eyes on her own pocket handkerchief. 

"Poor little cry-baby!" thought she. "I told my mother I would try tomake a man of him, and now I mean to begin. "

She walked part of the way home with him that afternoon. He consideredit a great honor. She looked like a little girl, but her wish to helpthe child made her feel quite grown-up and very wise. 

"Henry, " said she, "how nice you look when you are not crying. Why, nowyou're smiling, and you look like a darling!"

He laughed. 

"There! laugh again. I want to tell you something, Henry. You'd be agreat deal happier if you didn't cry so much; do you know it?"

"Well, Miss Dunlee, "--Kyzie liked extremely to be called MissDunlee, --"well, Miss Dunlee, you see, the boys keep a-plaguing me. Andwhen they plague me I have to cry. "

"Oh, fie, don't you do it! If I were a little black-eyed boy about yourage I'd laugh, and I'd say to those boys: 'You needn't try to plague me;you just can't do it. The more you try, the more I'll laugh. '"

Henry's eyes opened wide in surprise, and he laughed before he knew it. 

"There! that's the way, Henry. If you do that they'll stop right off. There's no fun in plaguing a little boy that laughs. "

Henry laughed again and threw back his shoulders. Why, this wassomething new. This wasn't the way his mamma talked to him. She alwayssaid, "Mamma's boy is sick and mustn't be plagued. "

"Another thing, " went on the little girl, pleased to see that her wordshad had some effect; "whatever else you may do, Henry, _don't_ 'run andtell, ' Do you suppose George Washington ever crept along to his teacher, rubbing his eyes this way on his jacket sleeve, and said 'MissDunlee--ah, the boys have been a-making fun of me--ah! They called menames, they did!'"

Henry dropped his chin into his neck. 

"Never mind! You're a good little boy, after all. _You_ wouldn't stealanything, would you, Henry?"

This sudden question was naturally rather startling. He had no answerready. 

"Oh, I know you wouldn't! But sometimes little _birds_ steal. Did youhear that a magpie stole a watch the other day?"

"Yes, I heard. "

"Well, here's some candy for you, Henry. "

The boy held out his hand eagerly, though looking rather bewildered. Wasthe candy given because George Washington didn't "run and tell"? Orbecause magpies steal watches?

"Now, good night, Henry, and don't forget what: I've been saying toyou. "

Henry walked on, feeling somewhat ashamed, but enjoying the candynevertheless. If his pretty teacher didn't want him to tell tales, hewouldn't do it any more. He would act just like George Washington; andthen how would the big boys feel?

He did not forget his resolve. Next morning when Dave Blake ran out histongue at him and Joe Rolfe said, "Got any chickens to sell?" he laughedwith all his might, just to see how it would seem. Both the boys stared;they didn't understand it. "Hello, Chicken Little, what's the matterwith you?"

Henry could see the eyes of his young teacher twinkling from between theslats of the window-blinds, and he spoke up with a courage quiteunheard-of:--

"Nothing's the matter with _me!_"

"Hear that chicken, " cried Joe Rolfe. "He's beginning to crow!"

Henry felt the tears starting; but as Miss Katharine at that momentopened the blind far enough to shake her finger at him privately hethought better of it, and faltered out:--

"See here, boys, I like to be called Chicken Little first rate! Say itagain. Say it fi-ive thousand times if you want to!"

"Oh, you're too willing, " said Joe. "We'll try it some other time whenyou get over being so willing!"

The bell rang; it sounded to Henry like a peal of joy. He walked in intriumph, and as he passed by the little teacher she patted him on thehead. She did not need to wipe his eyes with her handkerchief, therewere no tears to be seen. He was not a brave boy yet by any means, buthe had made a beginning; yes, that very morning he had made a beginning. 

"Don't you tease Henry Small any more, I don't like it at all, " saidKatharine to Joseph Rolfe. 

And then she slipped a paper of choice candy into Joe's hand, charginghim "not to eat it in school, now remember. " It was a queer thing to do;but then this was a queer school; and besides Kyzie had her own reasonsfor thinking she ought to be very kind to Joe. 

"How silly I was to suspect those little boys! I'm afraid I never shallhave much judgment. Still, on the whole, I believe I'm doing prettywell, " thought she, looking proudly at Henry Small's bright face, andremembering too how Mr. Pollard had told her that very morning that hisson Nate was learning more arithmetic at her little school than he hadever learned in the city schools. "Oh, I'm so glad, " mused the littleteacher. 

Mrs. Dunlee thought Kyzie did not get time enough for play. And just nowthe little girl was unusually busy. They were talking at home of the newentertainment to be given for Jimmy-boy's benefit, and she was to act apart in it as well as Edith. It was "Jimmy's play, " but Jimmy was not toappear in it at all. Kyzie and Edith together were to print the ticketswith a pen. The white pasteboard had been cut into strips for thispurpose; but as it was not decided yet whether the play would beenacted on the tailings or in the schoolhouse, the young printers hadgot no farther than to print these words very neatly at the bottom ofthe tickets:

"ADMIT THE BEARER. "

XII

"THE LITTLE SCHOOLMA'AM'S EARTHQUAKE"

There were only ten days in which to prepare for the play called"Granny's Quilting. " The children met Wednesday morning in Aunt Vi'sroom, all but Bab, who was off riding. So unfortunate, Lucy thought; forhow could any plans be made without Bab?

The play was very old-fashioned, requiring four people, all clad in thestyle of one hundred and fifty years ago. Uncle James would wear a graywig and "small clothes" and personate "Grandsir Whalen"; Kyzie Dunlee, Grandsir's old wife, in white cap, "short gown, " and petticoat, was tobe "Granny Whalen" of course. 

A grandson and granddaughter were needed for this aged couple. Edithwould make a lovely granddaughter and pretend to spin flax. Who wouldplay the grandson and shell the corn? Jimmy thought Nate Pollard wasjust the one, he was "so good at speaking pieces. " They decided to askNate at once, and have that matter settled. 

Aunt Vi showed a collection of articles which "the knitting-woman" hadkindly offered for their use; a three-legged light stand, twofiddle-backed chairs, and a very old hour-glass. 

"I should call it a pair of glasses, " said Edith, as they watched thesand drip slowly from one glass into the other. 

Aunt Vi said it took exactly an hour for it to drain out, and ourforefathers used to tell the time of day by hour-glasses before clockswere invented. 

"What _are_ forefathers?" Lucy asked Edith. 

"Oh, Adam and Eve and all those old people, " was the careless reply. 

"And didn't they have any clocks?"

"Of course not. What do you suppose?"

There was a knock at the door. Nate had come to find Jimmy and go withhim to see the blind canary. 

"We were just talking about you, " said Aunt Vi. "Are you willing to beKatharine's grandson in the play?"

Nate replied laughing that he would do whatever was wanted of him, andhe could send home and get some knee-buckles and a cocked hat. 

Aunt Vi said "Capital!" and gave Jimmy a look which said, "Everythingseems to be going on famously for our new play. "

Jimmy led the way to Mrs. McQuilken's room, his face wreathed withsmiles. 

"Ah, good morning; how do you all do?" said the lady, meeting thechildren with courteous smiles. "I see you've brought your kitten, Edith. "

"Yes, ma'am; will you please look at her wounds again?"

"They are pretty well healed, dear. I've never felt much concerned aboutZee's wounds. She makes believe half of her sufferings for the sake ofbeing petted. "

"Does she, though? I'm so glad. "

"Yes; that 'prize tail' will soon be waving as proudly as ever. But Isuppose you all came to see the canary. Mag, you naughty girl, " sheadded, turning to the magpie, "hide under the bed. They didn't come tosee you. Here, Job, you are the one that's wanted. "

Little Job, the canary, was standing on the rug. He came forward now togreet his visitors, putting out a foot to feel his way, like a blindman with a cane. Then he began to sing joyously. 

"Don't you call that good music?" asked his mistress, knitting as shespoke. "He came from Germany; there's where you get the best singers. Some canaries won't sing before company and some won't sing alone; theyare fussy, --I call it _pernickitty_. Why, I had one with a voice like aflute; but I happened to buy some new wall-paper, and she didn't likethe looks of it, and after that she never would sing a note. "

"Are you in earnest?" asked Kyzie. 

"Yes, it's a fact. But Job never was pernickitty, bless his littleheart!"

She brought a tiny bell and let him take it in his claws. 

"Now, I'll go out of the room, and you all keep still and see if he'llring to call me back. "

She went, closing the door after her. No one spoke. Job moved his headfrom side to side, and, apparently making up his little mind that he wasall alone, he shook the bell peal after peal. Presently his mistressappeared. "Did you think mamma had gone and left you, Job darling? Mammacan't stay away from her baby. "

The cooing tone pleased the little creature, and he sang again even moresweetly than before. 

"Let me show you another of his tricks. You see this little gun? Well, when he fires it off that will be the end of poor Job!"

The gun was about two inches long and as large around as a lead pencil. Inside was a tiny spring; and when Job's claw touched the spring the gunwent off with a loud report. Job fell over at once as if shot and layperfectly still and stiff on the rug. Lucy screamed out:---

"Oh, I'm so sorry he is dead!"

But next moment he roused himself and sat up and shook his feathers asif he relished the joke. 

The children had a delightful half hour with the captain's widow and herpets; only Lucy could not be satisfied because Bab was away. 

"Too bad you went off riding yesterday, " said she as they sat nextmorning playing with their dolls. "You never saw that blind canary thatshoots himself, and comes to life and rings a bell. "

"But can't I see him sometime, Auntie Lucy?"

"You can, oh, yes, and I'll go with you. But, Bab, you ought to haveheard our talk about the play! Kyzie is going to be as much as a hundredyears old, and I guess Uncle James will be a hundred and fifty. Andthey've got a pair of old glasses with sand inside--the same kind thatAdam and Eve used to have. "

"Why-ee! Did Adam and Eve wear glasses? 'Tisn't in their pictures; _I_never saw 'em with glasses on!"

"No, no, I don't mean glasses _wear_! I said glasses with sand inside;_that's_ what Uncle James has got. Runs out every hour. Sits on thetable. "

"Oh, I know what you mean, auntie! You mean an _hour-glass!_ GrandpaHale has one and I've seen lots of 'em in France. "

Lucy felt humbled. Though pretending to be Bab's aunt, she often foundthat her little niece knew more than she knew herself!

"Seems queer about Adam and Eve, " said she, hastening to change thesubject; "who do you s'pose took care of 'em when they were littlebabies?"

"Why, Auntie Lucy, there wasn't ever any _babiness_ about Adam and Eve!Don't you remember, they stayed just exactly as they were made!"

"Yes, so they did. I forgot. "

Lucy had made another mistake. This was not like a "truly auntie"; stillit did not matter so very much, for Bab never laughed at her and theyloved each other "dearilee. "

"You know a great many things, don't you, Bab? And _I_ keep forgetting'em. "

"Oh, I know all about the world and the garden of Eden; _that's_ easyenough, " replied the wise niece. 

And then they went back to their dolls. 

Half an hour later Kyzie Dunlee was standing in the schoolhouse doorwith a group of children about her when Nate Pollard appeared. As helooked at her he remembered "Jimmy's play, " and the parts they wereboth to take in it; and the thought of little Kyzie as his poor oldgrandmother seemed so funny to Nate that he began to laugh and calledout, "Good morning, grandmother!"

He meant no harm; but Kyzie thought him very disrespectful to accost herin that way before the children, and she tossed her head withoutanswering him. 

Nate was angry. How polite he had always been to her, never telling herwhat a queer school she kept! And now that he had consented to be hergrandson in Jimmy's play, just to please her and the rest of the family, it did seem as if she needn't put on airs in this way!

"Ahem!" said he; "did you hear about that dreadful earthquake in SanDiego?"

There had been a very slight one, but he was trying to tease her. 

"No, oh, no!" she replied, throwing up both hands. "When was it?"

"Last night. I'm afraid of 'em myself, and if we get one here to-day youneedn't be surprised to see me cut and run right out of theschoolhouse. "

The children looked at him in alarm. Kyzie could not allow this. 

"Oh, you wouldn't do that!" said she, with another toss of the head. "Before I'd run away from an earthquake! Besides, what good would itdo?"

By afternoon the news had spread about among the children that there wasto be a terrible earthquake that day. They huddled together likefrightened lambs. The little teacher, wishing to reassure them, plantedherself against the wall, and made what Edith would have called a"little preach. "

She pointed out of the window to the clear sky and said she "could notsee the least sign of an earthquake. " But even if one should come theyneed not be afraid, for their heavenly Father would take care of them. 

"And you mustn't think for a moment of running away! No, children, bequiet! Look at me, _I_ am quiet. I wouldn't run away if there were fiftyearthquakes!"

Strange to say, she had hardly spoken these words when the house beganto shake! They all knew too well what it meant, that frightful rockingand rumbling; the ground was opening under their feet!

Kyzie, though she may have feared it vaguely all along, was takenentirely by surprise, and did--what do you think? As quick as a flash, without waiting for a second thought, she turned and jumped out of thewindow!

Next moment, remembering the children, she screamed for them to followher, and they poured out of the house, some by the window, some by thedoor, all shrieking like mad. 

It was a wild scene, --the frantic teacher, the terrified children, --andKyzie will never cease to blush every time she recalls it. For there wasno earthquake after all! It was only the new "colonel" and his menblasting a rock in the mine!

Of course this escapade of the young teacher amused the people of CastleCliff immensely. They called it "the little schoolma'am's earthquake";and the little schoolma'am heard of it and almost wished it had been areal earthquake and had swallowed her up. 

"Oh, Papa Dunlee! Oh, Mamma Dunlee!" she cried, her cheeks crimson, hereyelids swollen from weeping. "I keep finding out that I'm not half somuch of a girl as I thought I was! What does make me do such ridiculousthings?"

"You are only very young, you dear child, " replied her parents. 

They pitied her sincerely and did their best to console her. But theywere wise people, and perhaps they knew that their eldest daughterneeded to be humbled just a little. It was hard, very hard, yetsometimes it is the hard things which do us most good. 

"O mamma, don't ask me to go down to dinner. I can't, I can't!"

"No indeed, darling, your dinner shall be sent up to you. What would youlike?"

"No matter what, mamma--I don't care for eating. I can't ever hold up myhead any more. And as for going into that school again, I never, never, never will do it. "

"I think you will, my daughter, " said Mr. Dunlee, quietly. "I thinkyou'll go back and live this down and 'twill soon be all forgotten. "

"O papa, do you really, really think 'twill ever be forgotten? Do youthink so, mamma? A silly, disgraceful, foolish, outrageous, abominable, --there, I can't find words bad enough!"

As her parents were leaving the room she revived a little and added:--

"Remember, mamma, just soup and chicken and celery. But a full saucer ofice-cream. I hope 'twill be vanilla. "

XIII

NATE'S CAVE

The little teacher went back to her school the very next day. It was ahard thing, but she knew her parents desired it. Her proud head waslowered; she could not meet the eyes of the children, who seemed to betrying their best not to laugh. At last she spoke:--

"I got frightened yesterday. I was not very brave; now was I? Hark! Thepeople in the mine are blasting rocks again, but we won't run away, willwe?"

They laughed, and she tried to laugh, too. Then she called the classesinto the floor; and no more did she ever say to the scholars about theearthquake. She helped Nate in his arithmetic, and he treated her like aqueen. He was coming to Aunt Vi's room that evening to show hisknee-buckles and cocked hat and find out just what he was to do on thestage. 

Kyzie wanted to see the cocked hat and felt interested in her own whitecap which Mrs. McQuilken was making. It was a good thing for Katharinethat she had "Jimmy's play" to think of just now. It helped her throughthat long forenoon. After this the forenoons did not drag; school wenton as usual, and Kyzie was glad she had had the courage to go back and"live down" her foolish behavior. 

When they met in Aunt Vi's room that evening it was decided not to have"Jimmy's play" on the tailings, for that was a place free to all. Peoplewould not buy tickets for an entertainment out of doors. 

"My tent is the thing, " said Uncle James, and so they all thought Itwas a large white one, and the children agreed to decorate it withevergreens. It would hold all the people who were likely to come andmany more. 

During the week Uncle James set up the tent not far from the hotel andin one corner of it built a staging. He did not mind taking trouble forhis beloved namesake, James Sanford Dunlee. The stage was made to looklike a room in an old-fashioned house. It had a make-believe door andwindow and a make-believe fireplace with andirons and wood and shoveland tongs. There was a rag rug on the floor, and on the three-leggedstand stood the hour-glass with candles in iron candlesticks. Thefiddle-backed chairs were there and two _hard_ "easy-chairs" and an oldwooden "settle. " Lucy and Bab said it looked "like somebody's house, "and they wanted to go and live in it. 

On the Saturday afternoon appointed the play had been well learned bythe four actors. Everything being ready, this cosy little sitting-roomwas now shut off from view by a calico curtain which was stretchedacross the stage by long strings run through brass rings. 

The play would begin at half-past two. Jimmy was dressed neatly in hisvery best clothes. He had a roll of paper and a pencil in one of hispockets and during the play he meant to add up the number of peoplepresent and find out how much money had been taken. 

"But Jimmy-boy, it won't be very much, " said Edith. "This is an emptytown, and so queer too. Something may happen at the last minute thatwill spoil the whole thing. "

She was right. Something did happen which no one could have foreseen. For an "empty" town Castle Cliff was famous for events. 

As Jimmy left the hotel just after luncheon he overtook Nate Pollardand Joe Rolfe standing near a big sand bank, talking together earnestly. 

"Come on, Jimmum, " said Nate; "we've got a spade for you. We're going todig a cave in the side of this bank. "

"What's the use of a cave?"

"Why, for one thing, we can run into it in time of an earthquake. "

"That's so, " said Jimmy. "Or we could stay in and be cave-dwellers. "

But as he took up the spade he chanced to look down at his new clothes. He had spoiled one nice suit already and had promised his mother hewould be more careful of this one. 

"Wait till I put on my old clothes, will you?"

Nate laughed and snapped his fingers. "We're in a hurry. I've got to bein the tent in half an hour. Go along, you little dude! We'll dig thecave without you. "

The laugh cut Jimmy to the heart. And he had been learning to like Nateso well. A dude? Not he! Besides, what harm would dry sand do? It's"clean dirt. "

Then all in a minute he thought of that wild journey on the roof. It hadmade a deeper impression upon him than any other event of his life. 

"Poh! Am I going to dig dirt in my best clothes just because NatePollard laughs at me? I don't 'take stumps' any more; there's no sensein it, so there!"

And off he started, afraid to linger lest he should fall intotemptation. Jimmy might be heedless, no doubt he often was; but when hereally stopped to think, he always respected his mother's wishes andalways kept his word to her. 

This was the trait in Jimmy which marked him off as a highly bredlittle fellow. For let me tell you, boys, respect for your elders is thefirst point of high breeding all the world over. 

Jimmy sauntered on slowly toward the door of the tent. There were agreat many benches inside, but it was not time yet for the audience toarrive. Uncle James and Katharine and Edith were on the stage, and AuntVi was adding a few touches to Edith's dress. 

"O dear, " said Grandmamma Graymouse, "I hope I shan't forget my part. Tell me, Uncle James, do I look old enough?"

"You look too old to be alive, " he answered; "fifty years older than Ido, certainly! Mrs. Mehitable Whalen, are you my wife or my very greatgrandmamma?"

"But where's Nate Pollard?" Aunt Vi asked. "I told him to come early torehearse. "

"He said he'd be here in half an hour, " said Jimmy. "He's off playing. "

"I hope I shall not have to punish my young grandson, " said Uncle James, solemnly, as he began to peel a sycamore switch. 

Uncle James's name was now "Ichabod Whalen, " and he and "MehitableWhalen, " his wife, were such droll objects in their old-fashionedclothes that they could not look at each other without laughing. 

Their absent grandson, "Ezekiel Whalen" (or Nate Pollard), was a finespecimen of a boy of ancient times, and Aunt Vi had been much pleasedwith the way in which he acted his part. But where was he? Aunt Vi andthe grandparents grew impatient. It was now half-past two; people wereflocking into the tent; but the curtain could not rise, for nothing wasyet to be seen of young Master "Ezekiel Whalen" and his small clothesand his cocked hat. The house was pretty well filled; really there werefar more people than had been expected, Jimmy, with pencil and paper inhand, was figuring up the grown people and children, and multiplyingthese numbers by twenty-five and by fifteen. When he found that the sumamounted to nearly nine dollars he almost whistled for joy. 

But all this while the audience was waiting. People looked around insurprise; the Dunlee family grew more and more anxious. Aunt Lucypinched Bab and Bab pinched Aunt Lucy. 

Suddenly there were loud voices at the entrance of the tent. The tentcurtain was pushed aside violently, and Mr. Templeton and Mr. Rolferushed in exclaiming:--

"Two boys lost! All hands to the rescue!"

The people were on their feet in a moment and there was a grand rushfor the outside. The panic, so it was said afterward, was about equal to"the little schoolma'am's earthquake. "

XIV

JIMMY'S GOOD LUCK

"It's the Pollard and Rolfe boys, " explained Mr. Templeton. 

"Ho! I know where _they_ are!" cried Jimmy, "They're all right. They'reonly digging a cave in the side of a sand-bank. "

"Show us where! Run as fast as you can!" exclaimed Mr. Rolfe and Mr. Pollard. Mr. Pollard had been hunting for the last half-hour. He knewNate was deeply interested in "Jimmy's play" and would not have keptaway from the tent unless something unusual had happened. 

Jimmy ran, followed by several men who could not possibly keep up withhim. But when they all reached the sand-bank, where were the"cave-dwellers"? They had burrowed in the sand till completely out ofsight!

"Hello! Where are you"? screamed Jimmy. 

There was no answer. In enlarging the cave they had loosened the verydry earth, and thus caused the roof over their heads to fall in uponthem, actually burying them as far as their arm-pits! They tried toscream, but their muffled voices could not be heard. The "cave" lookedlike a great pile of sand and nothing more. Nobody would have dreamedthat there was any one inside it if it had not been for Jimmy's story. 

"Courage, boys, we're after you, we'll soon have you out!" said the mencheerily; though how could they tell whether the boys heard or not?Indeed, how did they know the boys were still alive?

Two men went for shovels. The other men, not waiting for them to comeback thrust their arms into the bank and scooped out the sand withtheir hands. The sand was loose and they worked very fast. Before theshovels arrived a moan was heard. At any rate one of the boys was alive. And before long they had unearthed both the young prisoners and draggedthem out of the cave. 

Not a minute too soon, Joe gasped for breath and looked wildly about;but Nate lay perfectly still; it could hardly be seen at first that hebreathed. His father and mother, the doctor and plenty of other peoplewere ready and eager to help; but it was some time before he showedsigns of life. When at last he opened his eyes the joy of his parentswas something touching to witness. 

Jimmy, who had been standing about with the other children, watching andwaiting, caught his mother by the sleeve and whispered:--

"I should have been in there too, mamma, if it hadn't been for you!"

"What do you mean, my son? In that cave? I never knew the boys weretrying to make a cave. I did not forbid your digging in the sand, didI?"

"No, mamma; but I knew you wouldn't want me to do it in theseclothes--after all my actions! And I had promised to be more careful. "

Mrs. Dunlee smiled, but there were tears in her eyes. 

"How glad I am that my little boy respected his mother's wishes, " saidshe, stooping to kiss his earnest face. 

She dared not think what might have happened if he had disregarded herwishes!

It was a time of rejoicing. Mr. Templeton ordered out the brass bandand the Hindoo tam tam. The horse Thistleblow seemed to think he must bewanted too, and came and danced in circles before the groups of happypeople. 

"I could believe I was in some foreign country, " said Mrs. McQuilken, smiling under her East Indian puggaree, as she had not been seen tosmile before, and dropping a kiss on the cheek of her favorite Edith. 

After dinner the Dunlees met in Aunt Vi's room, and Aunt Vi observedthat Mrs. Dunlee kept Jimmy close by her side, looking at him in the waymothers look at good little sons, her eyes shining with happy love andpride. 

They were talking over "Jimmy's play, " which had not been played. Themoney must all be given back to the people who had sat and looked solong at that calico curtain. 

"We'll try 'Granny's Quilting' again next Saturday, " said Aunt Vi. 

They did try it again. There were no caves to dig this time, and youngMaster "Ezekiel Whalen" was on the stage promptly at half-past one, eager to show his grandparents that he was a boy to be relied upon afterall. The play was a remarkable success. All the "summer boarders andcampers" came to it, and everybody said:--

"Oh, do give us some more entertainments, Mrs. Sanford! Let us have oneevery Saturday. "

Aunt Vi, being the kindest soul in the world, promised to do what shecould. She gave the play of the "Pied Piper of Hamelin, " with childrenfor rats; and Eddo was dressed as a mouse, and squealed so perfectlythat Edith's cat could hardly be restrained from rushing headlong uponthe stage. 

Later there were tableaux. Edith wore red, white, and blue and was theGoddess of Liberty. Jimmy was a cowboy with cartridge-belt and pistols. Lucy and Barbara were Night and Morning, with stars on their heads. Mr. Sanford was Uncle Jonathan. Mr. Hale was an Indian chief. 

Jimmy's debts were more than paid, and a happier boy was not to be foundin the state of California. 

After this there were plenty of free entertainments on the tailings. Atone of these, when the audience was watching a flight of rockets, Katharine heard two women not far away talking together. One of themasked:--

"Where's that little Dunlee girl, the one that keeps the play-school?"

"Over there in the corner, " replied the other, "She hasn't any hat on. She's sitting beside the girl with a cat in her lap. "

"Oh, is that the one? So young as that? Well, she's a good girl, yes, she is. I guess she _is_ a good girl, " said the first speaker heartily. "My little Henry thinks there's nothing like her. He never learned muchof anything till he went to that play-school. He never behaved so wellas he does now, never gave me so little trouble at home. She's a _good_girl. "

A world of comfort fell on Kyzie. Young as she was and full of faults, she had really done a wee bit of good. 

"And they didn't say a word about my jumping out of the window, " thoughtshe, with deep satisfaction. "Wait till I grow up, just wait till I growup, and as true as I live I'll be something and do something in thisworld!"

She did not say this aloud, you may be sure; but there was a look on herface of high resolve. 

Uncle James had often said to Aunt Vi:--

"Our Katharine is very much in earnest. I know you agree with me that"little Prudy's" eldest daughter is a golden girl!"

The "play-school" closed a few days later, and it was Henry Small whoreceived the medal for good spelling. He wasn't so much of a cry-babynowadays and the boys had stopped calling him "Chicken Little. "

The Dunlee party went home the last week in August, declaring they hadhad delightful times at Castle Cliff. 

"Only I never went down that mine in a bucket, " said Lucy. "How could Iwhen the men were blowing up rocks just like an earthquake?"

"And I wanted to wait till they found that vein, " said Jimmy. 

A few days before they left, Uncle James went hunting and shot a deer. Iwish there were space to tell of the barbecue to which all theneighbors were invited a little later. 

As it is, my young readers are not likely to hear any more of theadventures of the "bonnie Dunlees, " either at home or abroad. 

But during their stay in the mountains that summer Lucy begged Aunt Vito write some stories, with the little friends, Bab and Lucy, for theheroines. 

"Some 'once-upon-a-time stories, ' Auntie Vi. Make believe we two girlsgo all about among the fairies, just as Alice did in Wonderland; onlythere are two of us together, and we shall have a better time!"

"Oh, fie! How could I take real live little girls into the kingdom ofthe elves and gnomes and pixies? I shouldn't know how!"

But she was so obliging as to try. The week before they left for homeshe had completed a book of "once-upon-a-time stories, " which she readaloud to all the children as they clustered around her in the"air-castle. " She called it "Lucy in Fairyland, " though she meant Babjust as much as Lucy. If the little public would like to see this bookit may be offered them by and by; together with the comments which weremade upon each story by the whole Dunlee family, --Jimmy, wee Lucy, andall. 

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY SERIESSpecimen illustration from "Sister Susie"]

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY SERIESSpecimen illustration from "Dotty Dimple"]

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY SERIESSpecimen illustration from "Cousin Grace"]

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY'S CHILDREN SERIESSpecimen illustration from "Wee Lucy's Secret"]