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"Hist!" called the bride to Shorty below. "Are you there, sweetheart?"
"Aye, aye!" answered the future bluejacket. "Can you climb down the wall or shall I come up to you and carry you off in my flying machine?"
"I am coming down!" choked Mary. "But, Algernon, I cannot scale the fearsome wall in shoes and hose; what must I do?"
"Take them off, fair Lizzy Betty, and throw them down to me."
With that, Mary threw down to the faithful Shorty some huge tennis shoes, the property of Harvie. Shorty caught them, one at a time, and each catch felled him to the earth, much to the delight of the audience.
Then began the dangerous act. The agile Lizzy Betty was out of the window in a twinkling of an eye. Her mosquito net veil floated in the breezes. Her satin train she managed with great dexterity, kicking it from her, thereby disclosing to view the blue serge gym bloomers she was wearing. She swung herself down until midway she came upon the fated snag; there she paused and deliberately hooked her veil in the nail.
Here old Lady John, seeing his chance, took up the tale and began:
"As Miss Lizzy Betty was a-hurryin' down, an' she sho' could clam like a cat, she got her finery cotched on a rusty nail, an' thar she hung as helpless as a ol' c.o.o.n skin tacked on de barn do'. De beau lover he dance up an' down like he goin' crazy."
Shorty began to prance and cry out to his lady love; but she hung there weeping in loud boo hoos.
"Bymby ol' Ma.r.s.e Price 'gun ter 'spicion sompen, an' he up'n bang on de chamber do'. 'Hyar there, Lizzy Betty! Come on an' git married! The victuals is a-gittin' col' whilst you is a-prayin'.' Po' Miss Lizzy Betty could a-hear 'em hollerin' and beatin' an' bangin', an' still her dress it cotch on de nail. Jes' then de rich ol' bridegroom come a-shamblin' roun' de house, an' he an' de beau lover clasp one anudder in mortal death grips. De ol' man, he got so clost to him dat de sword what was as long as a hoe han'le didn' do de beau lover no good whatsomever, but de lil' penknife what de ol' man carry for to whittle with went clean home to de beau lover's heart."
At the proper cue, Wink, who had submitted to be dressed up in a red table cover with a Santa Klaus beard made out of a switch borrowed from Miss Maria, came sidling around the house.
"Vilyun!" he cried, and grabbing Shorty around the waist, they wrestled and swayed until Shorty's long silk stockings, borrowed from Dum, came down and hung around his feet, and his fancy trunks, nothing more nor less than a bathing suit carefully rolled up, came unrolled and hung down in a most ludicrous manner. Finally the deadly penknife was dug into his ribs and he expired, calling to the lovely Lizzy Betty.
"An' de lubly Miss Lizzy Betty, she tuk a fit then an' thar an' if'n her paw hadn't er got a ladder an' gone up'n unhooked her, she'd a-been hangin' thar yit, same as in dis hyar circus," and Lady John pointed impressively at the bunchy figure of Mary clinging to the ivy with fingers, teeth and toe-nails.
The applause could have been heard down at the landing, I am sure. Mary unfastened her mosquito net veil from her head and finished her descent, leaving the veil caught to the snag.
"Now, you black rascals," cried General Price, "you can see the ghost any night you've a mind. There she hangs, and I reckon I'll leave her there to shame you with. Now get to work!"
His words were stem but his face wore a smile and his tone was kindly.
The field hands went off to work, the uninvited guests melted away, and the house servants took up their tasks where we had left off.
Willie, the yard boy, wore a broad grin on his countenance. I heard him say to one of the housemaids:
"I done mist my chanst for de kingdom dis year. I 'lowed I'd come through to-night, but these hyar carryin's on done flimflammed me. I been a-laughin' an' singin' an' what's more a-dancin', an' 'twarn't no David a-dancin' befo' de Lord, nuther. 'Twas jes' a-pattin' an' Clar de Kitchen dance. I hear rumors of gumbo for dinner, too, an' I sho' is glad I done turned from grace. I hope de young misses what concocted of de gumbo done put my name in de pot. Dis here seekin' is pow'ful appetizin'."
Our circus had been a decided success. Old and young, black and white had enjoyed it. Mary felt that she had redeemed herself. Had she not scared the servants off and then wiled them back? Had she not held thousands thrilled and breathless while she made her perilous descent?
"It is wonderful for you to be able to climb that way," said our courtly host. "I have never seen a young lady so agile."
"But I shall have to learn to climb in shoes," sighed our movie star.
"Douglas Fairbanks can."
CHAPTER XI
THE PICNIC
WHEN a crowd of young people get together there is sure to be a picnic if there is a spark of life in them. There were many sparks of life in this crowd, enough to supply many picnics.
We had been at Maxton ten days when the picnic came off, and we had had ten days of unalloyed fun. Of course, we had many gags on each other and jokes that were only jokes because we were on a house-party together.
Those jokes if told would sound very flat, indeed. I believe there is no bore so great as the person who has been off with a crowd for a fortnight and comes back and tries to bring to life all the silly jokes that were perpetrated. They may have been brilliant and witty at the time, but it takes the setting and the circ.u.mstance to make them appear so to someone not blessed with an invitation to said house-party.
Mr. Tucker had come and gone and come again when we decided to go on the picnic. His faithful Henry Ford could bring him to Price's Landing in about one-fourth of the time it took if one trusted to the deliberate meanderings of the steamboat. He was a favorite with all of the party, young and old, and his arrival was hailed with delight. Miss Maria put on her best and filmiest lace cap for his benefit, and to her delight, that wonderful man noticed it and talked to her about old lace with a knowledge that astounded her.
He told me afterwards he found lace a topic which always interested old ladies, so he had deliberately made it his business to find out about lace and be prepared to converse on the subject. He also had some general knowledge of crochet st.i.tches, and knew how much yarn it took to knit a sweater. It was too ludicrous to see him solemnly talking fancy work with some ancient dame. Tweedles and I have been sent off into hysterics when we have found him bending over a rainbow afghan, with some old lady eagerly asking his advice as to the depth of the border or something else equally feminine. He seldom went home, after a week-end spent at some resort, that he did not have a commission to match embroidery silk for some lady who had calculated wrong, or send back a bale of wool for some energetic person who had suddenly decided to knit socks for the poor Belgians or a sweater for a long-suffering male relative. Certainly Zebedee's interest and knowledge on the subject of lace caps would have won Miss Maria's affections had they not already been his.
General Price was as glad to see him as was his old sister. Of course, the European war was of paramount interest to everyone during those years, and Jeffry Tucker always brought some item of news to be recounted and discussed. He came laden with newspapers and magazines, and the general would bury himself under them, only emerging for meals.
He and Zebedee would spend hours discussing the situation. Topographical maps were studied until one would think those two gentlemen could have found their way blindfolded over every inch of the western front.
The Mexican situation, too, must be thoroughly threshed out. The old warrior was like some ancient war horse that sniffs the battle from afar. As a veteran of the Civil War he had many experiences to recount and a.n.a.logies to bring forth. Mr. Tucker listened to him with an attention that was most flattering. Naturally General Price freely announced that Tucker was the most agreeable man of his acquaintance.
Mr. Arthur Ponsonby Pore spent one evening with us at Maxton and the general and Zebedee hoped to get some new outlook from their English acquaintance on the subject of the war that so nearly touched him, since many of his kinsmen must surely be in the trenches; but Mr. Pore's interest seemed purely academic, and as his knowledge was princ.i.p.ally gained from two- and three-week-old London _Graphics_, those voracious gentlemen got but little satisfaction from the hours spent with Arthur Ponsonby.
"He cares more about what language will finally be spoken on the Servian border than he does about the submarine menace!" cried Zebedee indignantly, coming out on the gallery where I was getting a breath of air after a particularly trying dance with poor Wink, who never had learned how. We danced almost every night at Maxton,--tread many a measure, as our dear old host put it. Dee said she thought Wink was a good dancer and she seemed to be able to keep step with him very well, but the G.o.ds evidently had ordained that Wink and I could do nothing in harmony. He either stepped on my toes or I stepped on his,--the latter arrangement I much preferred.
"Well, when you come right down to it," I said, defending poor Mr. Pore, "that is, after all, a very important thing. What language is to be spoken there will mean which side is victorious."
"I know that, little Miss Smarty, but I also know if I have to listen any longer to that Britisher's rounded periods, what language will be spoken here,--it will not be fit to print, either. How can a man sit still down on the banks of a river in a foreign country and feel that it is not up to him to do a single thing for his country when her very existence is in peril!"
"But what can he do?"
"Do? Heavens, Page, he can do a million things!"
"He is too old to fight."
"No one is ever too old to fight,--that is, to put up some kind of a fight. He does not even contribute to a relief fund! He as good as told me he did not. He says he is afraid that what he sent might fall into the hands of the Germans and help them, so he considers it more patriotic not to send anything. I've been taking up for that man against Tweedles, but ugh! I'm through now."
"Oh no, you are not," I laughed; "if Mr. Pore should come out on the porch this minute and ask a favor of you, I bet you would be just as nice to him as you always have been."
"Never! Five pounds of Huyler's if I am not as cold as a fish to His Nibs!"
At this psychological moment His Nibs appeared.
"Aw, I say, Mr. Tucker, when you return to Richmond, will you be so kind as to do a little commission for me?"
Zebedee made inarticulate noises in his throat and Mr. Pore continued:
"Some freight has gone astray and if you could look it up from that end, it would be of great a.s.sistance to me."
"Have you written about it?" Zebedee's manner was not quite so Zebedeeish as I could have wished, since five pounds of Huyler's was at stake.
"No, I have not corresponded with the wholesale firm from whom I purchased the goods, as I heard from my daughter that you were expected, and I considered that it would be much more satisfactory to all concerned if you could give it your personal attention."
As soon as Mr. Pore mentioned Annie, Zebedee seemed to have a change of heart. He evidently felt that Annie's father must be cajoled into good behavior, and nothing must be done or said to make that stubborn parent have an excuse for taking any pleasures from Annie.