Randy and Her Friends Part 1

Randy and Her Friends.

by Amy Brooks.

CHAPTER I

THROUGH THE FIELDS

The sunniest place upon the hillside was the little pasture in which the old mare was grazing, moving slowly about and nipping at the short gra.s.s as if that which lay directly under her nose could not be nearly as choice as that which she could obtain by constant perambulation.

A blithe voice awoke the echoes with a fragment of an old song. The mare looked up and gave a welcoming whinny as Randy Weston, Squire Weston's daughter, crossed the pasture, her pink sunbonnet hanging from her arm by its strings.

"Glad to see me, Snowfoot?" asked Randy as she laid a caressing hand upon the mare's neck and looked into the soft eyes which seemed to express a world of love for the girl who never allowed a friendly whinny to pa.s.s unnoticed.

"My! but this August sun is hot," said Randy, vigorously wielding her sunbonnet for a fan.

"And before we can turn 'round it will be September, and then there'll be lessons to learn, yes, and plenty of work to be done if I mean to keep the promise I made myself when I won the prize in June.

"A five dollar gold piece for being the best scholar, Snowfoot, and to think that I haven't yet decided what to do with it!

"I've spent it, in my mind a dozen times already, and to-day I'm no nearer to knowing _just_ what I'd rather do with it than on the day it was given me. Did you ever know anything so silly?"

The horse sneezed violently, as if in derision, and Randy laughed gaily at having her plainly expressed opinion of herself so forcibly confirmed.

Leaving Snowfoot to crop the gra.s.s and clover, Randy crossed the field and followed a well trodden foot-path which led to a little grove and there in the cool shade she paused to look off across the valley, and again her thoughts reverted to the s.h.i.+ning gold piece. Once more she wondered what it could buy which would give lasting satisfaction.

"If I were in the city," she mused, "I should probably see something which I'd like to have in the first store I came to, and I could buy it at once."

A moment later she laughed softly as it occurred to her that in the large city stores of which she had heard it would be more than probable that a dozen pretty things would attract her, and her bewilderment would thus be far greater than it had been at home with only a choice of imaginary objects.

"If old Sandy McLeod who gave the prize could know what a time I've had deciding what to do with it, I believe he would laugh at me and say in that deep voice of his,

"'Hoot, la.s.s! Since the gold piece troubles ye, I wonder if ye're glad ye won it?'"

Randy in her pink calico gown, her sunbonnet still hanging from her arm, her cheeks flushed by the hot summer breeze, and the short ringlets curling about her forehead, made a lovely picture as she stood at the opening of the little grove and looked off across the valley to the distant hills.

She was thinking of the school session which would open so soon, when with her cla.s.smates she would be eagerly working to gain knowledge; of her longing for more than the "deestrict" school could give, of her father's promise that she should have all the education she wished for, and the light of enthusiasm shone in her merry gray eyes.

"I shall work with all my heart this season," thought Randy, "and if I could do two years' work in one, I should indeed be pleased. I believe I'll ask the teacher to plan extra work for me, and if she will, I'll--"

but just at this point she heard a clear voice calling,

"Randy! Randy!"

Turning she saw Belinda Babson running along the little foot path, her long yellow braids s.h.i.+ning in the sun, and her round blue eyes showing her pleasure at sight of her friend.

"Why Belinda! Where did you come from?" cried Randy, "I'd no idea that anyone was near me."

"I've been sitting on the top rail at the further side of the pasture, and just watching you, Randy Weston," said Belinda, laughing.

"I was on the way up to your house when I met your little sister Prue, and she said that you were out here, so I turned this way, and just as I reached the bars I spied you a looking off at nothing and a thinking for dear life."

"I _was_ thinking," admitted Randy, "and I was just wondering if I could do two years of school work in one, when you called me."

"Well what an idea!" gasped Belinda, "you don't catch me doing more than one year's work if I can help it, and I wouldn't do _that_ if pa didn't set such a store by education.

"Why, Randy," she resumed a moment later, "what makes you in such a drive 'bout your lessons, anyway?"

"I'm sixteen this summer," Randy replied, "and I've no idea of waiting forever to fit myself for something better than a district school."

Belinda looked aghast, and her round face seemed longer than one could have believed possible.

"Randy Weston!" she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, "if you're planning to work like that the whole duration time you won't have a single minute for fun, and how we'll miss you!"

"Oh, don't imagine that I shall lose all the winter's pleasures, Belinda,"

Randy answered slipping her arm about her friend's waist. "I can study in the long evenings and I think that I shall be able to join you all in the 'good times' which you plan and yet be able to do the extra work at school."

"Well, I wish you joy," said Belinda, "but I, for one, get all the school work I want in a year as it is, and as to extra work, I guess I'll get it fast enough this winter, although it won't be lessons I'll be attending to in my spare time.

"Ma got a letter last night when she rode over to the Centre, and Aunt Drusilla writes that she's coming to make us a three months' visit, and she's going to bring little Hi with her. And yesterday morning pa said that Grandma Babson was a coming to make her home with us, so you might guess, Randy, that Jemima and I'll have to step lively and help ma a bit."

"You will indeed have to help," Randy answered, "but won't it be fun to see little Hi again?

"Do you remember, Belinda, when he was here last summer, he tried to harness the hens and wondered why they didn't like it?"

"I had forgotten that," said Belinda, "but Jemima reminded me this morning of the day that pa lost his spectacles. Every one in the house hunted for those gla.s.ses, and at last Jemima ran out into the door-yard, and there was little Hi with the spectacles on his nose, a peering into the rain water barrel and holding onto those specs to keep them from tumbling off into the water. He said that pa said there were critters in any water, and as he couldn't see 'em he ran off with the gla.s.ses to see if they would help him. He tied our old Tom to the mouse trap because he said that he wanted the cat to be on hand when the mice ran in. He carried a squash pie out to the brindle cow because he thought she must be tired of eating nothing but gra.s.s, and if he and Grandma Babson have got to spend three months under the same roof, I b'lieve he'll drive her crazy, for she hates boys and don't mind saying so, and he can think of more mischief in one day than any other child could in a week."

Both girls laughed as they thought of little Hi's pranks and Randy said, with a bright twinkle in her eyes,

"At least, you and Jemima will be amused this winter."

"I guess we shall be in more ways than one," a.s.sented Belinda, "for I'm pretty sure that Grandma Babson and that small boy will be enemies from the start."

Belinda's habitually jolly face wore such a comical look of anxiety that Randy refrained from laughing, and to change the subject asked for a schoolmate whom she had not recently seen. "Where is Molly Wilson?" she questioned.

"Oh, Molly is so hard at work now it's only once in a while that I see her. Her baby sister is ill, and Molly has no time for anything but helping around home. Her mother says that she intends to have her go back to school if she can spare her, but whatever do you suppose Molly meant?

"She said to me, 'Belinda, even if mother can spare me, I may not go to school. You can't think how anxious I am to be at work at my lessons again, but I'm afraid I shan't look fit and father's had such a hard summer, the farm hasn't paid for working it, he says, that I couldn't ask him for anything for myself if I never had it.'

"And oh, I never thought, Randy, I promised Molly I would not tell what she said. I didn't mean to. Whatever made me forget?"

"Never mind," said Randy, an odd little smile showing the dimples at the corners of her mouth.

"I will not tell a single girl you may be very sure, but you and I who know it will be extra kind to Molly."

"Indeed we will," a.s.sented Belinda. "I'll go over this afternoon and see if I can help her. The baby is a sweet little thing and she likes me, so perhaps I shall be some help. Oh, there's Jemima calling at the bars, I guess ma wants me. My! I wonder if some of our company has arrived?

"Remember not to tell what I told you," cried Belinda to Randy, who stood looking after her friend, as she ran across the pasture to join Jemima.