Ethel Morton at Sweetbriar Lodge Part 3

"It ought not to be too near the tree because the roots will grow out a long way from the trunk of the tree and they might get under the pool and break up the concrete."

"Oh, could a tender little thing like a root break concrete that's as hard as stone?"

"It certainly can. Grandfather showed me a crack in a concrete wall of his on the farm that was made by the root of a big tree not far off."

"Well, then we can't have our pool anywhere near a tree. A shrub wouldn't hurt it, though; why can't it go near those shrubs that are going to separate the flower garden from the vegetable garden?"

"That place would be all right because there's a tall spruce there that throws a shadow over the shrubs for a part of the day. That's all you need; you don't want to take away all the suns.h.i.+ne from the pool."

So the exact spot was decided on and marked so that Patrick should make no mistake, and then the girls rushed off on a search for shallow basins and a tub.

CHAPTER II PLAYING WITH CONCRETE

It was not the Ethels and Dorothy alone who appeared at the "new place"

the next afternoon to make the experiments with concrete. Helen, Ethel Brown's elder sister, and her friend, Margaret Hanc.o.c.k, of Glen Point, were so interested in the younger girls' account of what they were going to do with Mr. Anderson's help that they came too.

As they puffed up the steep knoll on which the new house was to stand they stopped beside the cellar hole to see what progress had been made since the day before.

"They have just frisked along!" Dorothy exclaimed when she saw that not only was the inside fence-mold all built but that the concrete floor was laid and that the men were pouring the mixture in between the planks and the earth wall and pounding it down as they poured.

"Mr. Anderson said 'you can't fool round when you're working with concrete,'" Ethel Brown repeated. "They aren't, are they?"

The men were all working as fast as they could move, some of them shovelling the materials into the mixer, others running the machine, others wheeling the wet concrete in iron barrows to the men at the edge of the cellar who tamped it down as fast as it was poured into the narrow s.p.a.ce that defined the growing wall.

"When it is full, way up to the top, what happens next?" Dorothy inquired of Mr. Anderson who came over to where they were standing.

"Then we're going to build on it a three foot wall of concrete blocks to support the upper part of the house."

"That's the wall that has the cellar windows in it?"

"Yes."

"Then do make good big ones; Mother likes a bright cellar," urged Dorothy.

"We're going to make her a beauty," promised the contractor. "Come up into your garden now and let's get this concrete work up there done.

Here, Luigi," he called to an Italian, "bring us a load of concrete over there," and he waved his hand in the direction of the spot where Patrick had dug the hole for the tub.

They all examined the hole with care and the Ethels fitted in the tub and found that their digger had done his work skilfully, since there were just about three inches between the earth and the tub all around. They pulled the tub out again and under Mr. Anderson's direction they greased it thoroughly.

"We want to do every bit we can ourselves," they insisted when he suggested that Luigi might do that part for them.

"Don't forget the hole for the drainage," he reminded them. "Have you got your stick? And on which side are you going to have that?"

They surveyed the ground about the hole and decided that a drainage pipe might run a few inches underground for a short distance and discharge itself at the edge of a bank below which a vegetable garden was to lie.

"If you're careful what you plant there it will be an advantage to the ground to have this dampening once in a while," said Mr. Anderson, who was something of a gardener. "There won't be enough water to drown out any of your plants."

Luigi emptied a load of concrete into the hole and while he was gone to get a new supply the girls thumped it down hard, fitted in the greased tub and wedged a bit of broomstick which Roger, Ethel Brown's brother, had cut for Dorothy into the s.p.a.ce between the tub and the earth just at the top of the concrete flooring. When Luigi came back they were ready to thump as he poured and three loads filled up the s.p.a.ce entirely.

"Now, then, Luigi will bring you one of the smoothing tools that the men over there are using and you can make the top look even," and Mr.

Anderson gave more instructions to the Italian.

"It will be pretty to have some plants at the edge so they'll bend over and see themselves in the water," suggested Margaret.

"I should think there must be some water plants that would grow inside without much trouble," Ethel Blue said.

"We must look that up; they'd probably need a little soil of some sort,"

Helen reminded them.

"They'd be awfully pretty," said Dorothy complacently. "Don't you seem to see it--with gold fish swimming around among the stems?"

"d.i.c.ky might lend us his old turtle," laughed Ethel Brown. "He's tired of taking care of it. You could put a stick in here partly above the water, for him to sun himself on. I don't see why he wouldn't be quite happy here."

d.i.c.ky's turtle was a family joke. d.i.c.ky had found him two years before and had taken him home thinking he was a piece of stone. His excitement and terror when the stone lying on the library table stuck out first a head and then one leg after another to the number of four, had never been forgotten by the people who saw him at this thrilling moment.

"Now for your bird's bath," Mr. Anderson reminded his pupils. "You have to work fast, you know."

Dorothy brought out her two shallow basins, one smaller than the other.

The larger had its inside well greased and the smaller was thoroughly rubbed over on its under side. Into the larger they poured about an inch of concrete and then squeezed the smaller dish into it, but not so sharply that it cut through. They filled in the crack between the two, pus.h.i.+ng and patting the mixture into place, and they smoothed the edge so that it turned over the rim of the larger bowl before they cut it off evenly all around with a wire.

"There," said Mr. Anderson as he watched them. "We'll see what will come from that. It might be better done--" at which the girls all pulled long faces--"but also, it might be worse, or I'm very much mistaken."

"I wish we could make some garden furniture," sighed Dorothy, holding up her dripping hands helplessly, but at the same time gazing with joy at their new manufacture.

"You could if you would make the forms," said Mr. Anderson. "All you need to do is to make a bench inside of another bench and fill the s.p.a.ce between with concrete."

"That sounds easy, but if you were a girl, Mr. Anderson, you might find it a little hard to make the forms."

"We can all drive nails," insisted Ethel Brown stoutly. "I believe I'll try."

But the others laughed at her and reminded her that she would have to drive the nails through rather heavy planking, so she gave up the notion.

"What are the walls going to be made of?" Margaret asked Dorothy.

"Something fireproof, Mother said, but I don't know what she finally decided on. I'll ask Mr. Anderson."

"Plaster on hollow tile," the contractor answered absent-mindedly over his shoulder, as he walked briskly before them back to the cellar.

The girls saw that he was too full of business now to pay any more attention to them, so they thanked him for giving them so much time and made some investigations on their own account among the piles of material lying about on the grounds.

"I wonder if this could be 'hollow-tile,'" Ethel Blue said to the rest as she came across a stack of strange-looking pieces of brown earthenware.

"It's certainly hollow," returned Ethel Brown, "but I always supposed tiles were flat things. That's a tile Mother sets the teapot on to keep the heat from harming the polish of the table."

They stood about the pile of brown, square-edged pipes, roughly glazed inside and out, through whose length ran three square holes. They asked two workmen as they pa.s.sed what they were. One said "Hollow tile," and the other, "Terra-cotta."