Tabitha's Vacation Part 10

GLORIANA'S BURGLARS

There was a glorious moon that night, and as the girls were was.h.i.+ng the supper dishes, Tabitha proposed, "Let's go up to the peak when we are through here and watch the moon rise."

There was a moment of dead silence in the room. Usually the two inexperienced young housekeepers sought to hustle their restless, boisterous brood into bed as soon as the evening meal had ended and the night's ch.o.r.es were done. What had come over her to suggest such a thing as an evening stroll, or climb, as it would be if they went up to the peak? Susie looked at Tabitha with incredulous eyes, then glanced questioningly at Mercedes, but the older sister was as much mystified as were the rest.

"Do you mean that, or are you joking?" demanded Irene bluntly.

"I mean it," replied Tabitha calmly, though her face flushed uncomfortably under the surprised stare of eight pair of eyes.

"You usually chase us off to bed, you know," said Susie, still wondering what the unexpected proposal meant.

"Well, it is such a lovely night, I thought it would be fun to follow the trail to the top of the mountain, and watch the moon come up."

"And tell stories?" breathed Irene, clasping her hands ecstatically.

"Yes, if you wish," laughed the senior housekeeper.

"And speak pieces!" cried Mercedes, who was never tired of hearing Tabitha recite.

"Perhaps."

"And sing songs," suggested Rosslyn, who loved to listen to Gloriana's rich, sweet voice carolling joyous lays or softly crooning lullabyes.

"Maybe."

"And build a bonfire to roast--" began Billiard, but paused, remembering that it was too early for green corn yet, and not being able to think of anything else roastable.

"Mosquitoes," finished Toady mischievously.

But Tabitha's face clouded anxiously. "I am afraid we'll have to let the bonfire go this time," she said gravely. "There is a law against such things here in Silver Bow. A fire is such a hard thing to fight on the desert, supposing it once gets started; so no one takes any risks."

Toady's face fell and Billiard looked rebellious, seeing which, Tabitha hastily continued, "Some day we will go down to the river----"

"Oh, and have a picnic!" squealed Susie, giving such an eager little hop of antic.i.p.ation that the cup she was drying flew out of her hand and half-way across the room, falling with a dull thud in a pan of bread sponge which Tabitha had just been mixing.

"My!" breathed Irene enviously, "I wish my dishes would do that! When _I_ drop one it always bu'sts."

Her peculiar grievance, coupled with Susie's look of utter amazement at the performance of her cup, caused a merry laugh all around, and the subject of bonfire was speedily forgotten, to Tabitha's unbounded relief.

The dishes were soon washed and piled away in the cupboard, the evening ch.o.r.es completed, and the troop of eager children romped gaily up the rocky trail to the summit of the mountain, on which the Eagles' Nest was built. It was just such a night as Tabitha loved, and she would gladly have sat in silence the whole evening through, watching the barren landscape lying glorified in the white moonlight; but not so with the younger members of the party. To be sure, it was a pretty picture that the old moon revealed to their eyes, but even the most beautiful pictures cannot hold a child's attention long. It is excitement that they desire; so scarcely had the party reached their goal than Inez demanded imperiously, "Now Tabitha, speak something for us."

"Oh, not right away," protested the older girl, glancing wistfully about her at the beauties of the night, and longing for a few moments of solitude that she might enjoy herself in her own peculiar fas.h.i.+on.

"Let's watch the moon come up."

"No," clamored the boys, who had heard Tabitha's many talents lauded by their cousins until their curiosity had well-nigh reached the bursting point. "Speak right away. It's no fun watching the old moon come up!

Besides, it's high enough now to make things as plain as day."

"Suppose you recite something first, then," suggested Gloriana, noting the wistfulness in the big, black eyes of her new sister.

"Not on your tin-type!" Billiard emphatically declared. "It's ladies first, you know! We want Tabitha to spiel."

"Well, then, what shall it be?" sighed that young lady resignedly.

"Something with ginger in it," was Toady's prompt reply. "Not a sissy-girl piece."

"About a battle or a prize-fight," suggested Billiard with amusing impartiality.

"_Barbara Fritchie_," put in eager Irene.

"No, don't," cried Susie. "We've heard that so often. Speak _Sheridan's Ride_."

"Or _Driving Home the Cows_," suggested Mercedes. "I think that is so pretty, and it is a war piece, too."

"But it is too sad," promptly vetoed Susie. "We want something--noisy."

"With cannons and guns," seconded the boys.

So Tabitha obligingly recited the thrilling lines:

"'Up from the South at break of day, Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, The affrighted air with a shudder bore, Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain's door, The terrible grumble, and rumble, and roar, Telling the battle was on once more, And Sheridan twenty miles away.'"

And her thoughts flew back to that black day in the dingy old town hall, when she had declaimed those very lines, and of the dire punishment which had overtaken her; but the sting of it was all gone now, and she found herself smiling at the recollection of that fateful encore. Everything was so different these days. She could afford to forget the old heartaches and longings in the happiness which had come to her during the past year.

"'Here is the steed that saved the day By carrying Sheridan into the fight, From Winchester, twenty miles away!'"

she finished; and before the enthusiastic audience realized that the recitation was ended, she began _Horatius at the Bridge_. Then followed in quick succession all the thrilling wartime pieces at her tongue's command, while the delighted children held their breath in wondering admiration.

Breathless at length, she paused, and surveying the circle of faces about her, said whimsically, "That's a plenty, I reckon. My throat is as dry as the desert!"

"Just one more!" they pleaded eagerly.

"But I have spoken all I can think of now with guns and cannons in them."

"Then give us a different kind," wheedled Irene, in her most persuasive tones.

"That one you spoke May Day at Ivy Hall," suggested Mercedes, "when you tumbled off the platform."

"Tumbled off the platform?" echoed the boys in great surprise. This was an adventure which had never been recounted to them. "How did she tumble off the platform? Tell us about it."

Tabitha merely laughed and shook her head, but Mercedes, elated at the opportunity of singing the praises of her idol, regaled them with a laughable description of Tabitha's mishap. This led to other boarding school reminiscences,--the christening of the vessel, when Ca.s.sandra took her memorable plunge into the ocean; the night of the opera and their experiences with the runaway ostriches; the voice of the mysterious singer in the bell-tower, which some of the more timid students had mistaken for a ghost; and finally, the appearance of the Ivy Hall ghost itself. The McKittrick girls had heard all these events recounted so often that they knew them almost by heart; but, nevertheless, they were never tired of listening, and drank in the stories of all those delightful mishaps with almost as much eagerness as was displayed by Billiard and Toady, hearing them for the first time.

But all frolics come to an end, and Tabitha at length roused with a start to announce, "That clock struck ten, I am positive."

"What clock?"

"Yours. The one in the kitchen. We were unusually quiet, I reckon, for I was able to count ten strokes. We must fly into bed as fast as we can get there. I had no idea it was so late, although Janie and Rosslyn have been snoozing for ages. Come on, let's march. See who can get to the house first."