Four Little Blossoms at Brookside Farm Part 8

The children watched this trailer being loaded, and then all climbed into the bus and began the journey to Four Crossways. There were so many people on their way there that Bobby and Twaddles had to be squeezed into the front seat between the driver and the man who took the fares, and they liked this immensely.

"We're going to Brookside," volunteered Twaddles, who was sociably inclined, as soon as the driver seemed to have his engine fixed to suit him and the car was purring up the straight, wide road.

"To see Aunt Polly," chimed in Bobby.

"There's a lot of you, isn't there?" said the driver, smiling.

When both boys said they had never been on a real farm, the driver, whose name, he told them, was Gus Rede, had so much to say about the fun that awaited boys on a farm and especially such a fine place as Brookside that before Bobby and Twaddles knew it the bus had driven up to the post-office and there was dear Aunt Polly waiting to welcome them.

"Bless their hearts," she said warmly, when she had kissed Mother and had hold of a child with either hand. "Are they all tired out, poor lambs? It's a fearful place to get to, especially the first trip."

Mother Blossom a.s.sured her sister that they were all right, and as glad to see her as she was to see them.

"I left the car around on a side street," explained Aunt Polly, leading the way. "You see so many horses are still afraid of automobiles that we think it more thoughtful not to leave 'em standing on the main street. Yes, I drove over alone for you--either Peter or Jud will come over to-morrow for your trunks."

This last was in response to a question Mother Blossom had asked.

Aunt Polly's car was large enough to hold them all comfortably. Dot and Twaddles fell into a little doze, leaning against Mother Blossom.

They had had rather a long day. But Meg and Bobby sat up very straight and asked questions whenever Aunt Polly was not speaking to their mother.

"Who's Peter and Jud?" Bobby wanted to know first.

"Peter Apgar is my tenant farmer and runs the farm for me," said Aunt Polly, pulling over to one side of the road to let a huge load of hay go past. "Jud is his son. You'll like Jud. They live in a house about a quarter of a mile from our house."

"How is Spotty?" came from Meg. "I thought maybe you'd bring him with you."

"Spotty is very lively and well," answered Aunt Polly. "I like a farm dog to stay at home and watch things, so I've never trained him to ride in the car with me. By the way, Meg, we have a new addition to our animal family that I'm sure you'll like."

Meg was immediately curious--what was it?

"The blackest cat you ever saw," said Aunt Polly. "And I think probably the largest. He is so s.h.i.+ny, and not a white hair on him! He belonged to the people on the next farm, but spent about half his time with me; so when they sold and moved away last week Poots was given to me to keep."

"Is that his name--Poots?" inquired Meg. "How funny!"

"Well, he's a funny cat," replied her aunt. "And now, children, if you look sharp you'll see Brookside!"

She turned the car into a neat graveled roadway which parted a pretty concrete wall exactly in half, while Twaddles was puzzling how those things that looked to him like chickens could ever turn into big juicy turkeys.

Eagerly the four little Blossoms tumbled out. They saw a compact, modern house that looked even from the outside as if one might find all sorts of unexpected corners within. A green lawn bordered each side of the driveway, and in one direction was a red-tiled house with smoke coming out of the chimney and in another a birdhouse perched on a high pole near the gate the four little Blossoms had just come through.

Bobby spied the other house and Meg saw the home for the birds, just as people always see whatever they are most interested in first.

"Flowers!" said Dot.

She had seen the hollyhocks that stood up straight and tall against the fence that shut off the back of Aunt Polly's house.

Peter Apgar had come up to take the car and perhaps to see the new arrivals. The four little Blossoms liked him at once, and when he spoke in a soft, lazy drawl that was good-nature itself they knew he was going to be a good friend.

"Can't say you're lonesome now, Miss Polly," he chuckled pleasantly.

He always called her Miss Polly, never Mrs. Hayward. "And I guess Jud is as good as useless to me the rest of the summer. What these youngsters don't think up to do, he will," the farmer added, with a broad grin.

CHAPTER VII

THE WRECK OF THE RAFT

Though all of the four little Blossoms protested that they were not the least bit sleepy, it was not long after Mother and Aunt Polly had helped them to delicious brown bread and honey and milk and baked apples that they were stumbling up the stairs to baths and bed. Linda, a girl about fifteen, who lived with Aunt Polly and went to school in the winter and worked during the summer, had made the two pretty bedrooms as dainty as possible and had left a vase of flowers on the table in each room. It was Linda, too, who brought armfuls of clean towels and showed them which was the hot and which the cold water in Aunt Polly's white and green bathroom.

The next day the four children and Mother Blossom and Aunt Polly, with Linda and Jud part of the time and Spotty and Poots in constant attendance, explored Brookside thoroughly.

They saw the poultry yard, where ducks and chickens and guinea-hens and one lame turkey lived happily together. The other turkeys roamed all over the farm, and Aunt Polly said that at night they slept out of doors in the trees. She said they would be sick if cooped up in houses, and that they had to roam half-wild to thrive.

The visitors called on Mrs. Sally Sweet, the beautiful gentle Jersey cow that gave such wonderful rich milk; they saw the seven new little white pigs; they took salt to the sheep that were in a stony pasture and that came running when Peter called to them from the bars.

They made the acquaintance, too, of Jerry and Terry, the two faithful farm horses, and Nelly Bly, the brown mare who had a small colt, Felix, by her side. Meg had to be dragged away from the colt. She said she had never seen such a darling little horse.

Jud Apgar was a tall, lanky boy, with the same pleasant drawling way of speaking his father had, and the "evenest temper that ever was,"

Linda said. Linda should have known, because she was a great tease.

On their way back from the sheep pasture Aunt Polly and the Blossoms stopped at the tenant house, and Mrs. Apgar asked them in to taste of her fresh b.u.t.termilk. She had just finished churning, and the children saw their first churn. They admired the firm yellow b.u.t.ter, but they did not care much for the b.u.t.termilk, though Mother Blossom drank two gla.s.ses of it and said it was delicious.

It was nearly dinner time now, for Aunt Polly, like many people who live in the country, liked to have her dinner at noon, and they all hurried home to get freshened up for the meal. Poor Dot, as usual, had managed to soil her frock, and she had to be b.u.t.toned into a clean dress.

"How'd you ever get that old egg on it?" scolded Meg, nevertheless helping her to fasten the b.u.t.tons.

"I didn't know eggs broke so easy," explained Dot. "I was looking in a nest where a hen was sitting, and she flew up and scared me. And I just touched one of her eggs and it broke."

Meg happened to glance from the window.

"Peter's brought the trunks!" she cried. "And the kiddie-car and a bundle that must be the surprise Daddy told us about. Hurry, Dot."

The two little girls ran downstairs and found the others gathered about the trunks and parcels on the front porch.

"Daddy's surprise!" shouted Bobby. "Let me open it, Mother?"

Mother Blossom handed him the shears and he cut the heavy cord.

Something brown and heavy was inside.

"It's a dress. No, it isn't, it's a tent! It's a tent and four Indian suits!" Bobby was so delighted that he gave a war-whoop then and there and began to do a war dance.

"An Indian suit!" shrieked Twaddles, trying to stand on his head.

"Indian beads!" cried Meg, holding up a long chain of bright colored gla.s.s beads.

"And feathers!" Dot, too, had been digging in the package.