Ethel Morton at Sweetbriar Lodge Part 6

He held up the picture of a wide bench with two wings. It was greeted with applause.

"When that is made in the pattern we chose it will be as pretty as any one could ask for," Dorothy decided.

"And painted green," added Ethel Blue, at which they all laughed. "I'm serious about the green," she insisted. "Don't you see what I mean, Dorothy?" she continued, appealing to the person who was to have the final decision on the question.

"I think you're right," replied Dorothy. "Don't mind what they say. Write down one of those, Miss Secretary, and one of these right-angled ones--don't you all of you think that's a comfy one?"

They did, and they also approved of the single bench and the chairs and the small tables.

"They won't be all jammed up in this corner, of course," Dorothy explained gravely, "but when we have a Club meeting we can bring them together if we want to and room enough for everybody."

"I thought we were all to sit on the big bench," objected Tom with an air of deep disappointment.

"So we shall if you boys are too lazy to pull the other benches and chairs over here," answered Dorothy. "If we have plenty we can arrange them any way we want to."

"What about trellises?" inquired Ethel Blue who had been continuing her researches in the catalogues. "Here are some beauties. Don't you think you'll need some?"

"She certainly will if that Dorothy Perkins rambler rose gets busy as it ought to," decided Roger.

"There'll be a lot of vines and tall things if they'll only grow," said Dorothy hopefully. "I think there ought to be one or two flat ones and an arbor that will be a trellis."

"Here's an arbor that you can walk through or sit down in while you admire your plants, and you will be protected from the sun," Tom pointed out.

"And that same one with a lattice back and a bench inside makes a pretty good imitation of a summer house," suggested Ethel Brown.

"We'll have one apiece of those, then."

"Count up and see how much stuff you're planning to order," Roger suggested. "You've got a huge big place to set them in here but you don't want too much wood work, nevertheless."

They came to the conclusion that there were not too many for the size of the grounds and were well satisfied with their choice.

"Do you see how well we're going to see the house from here?" Dorothy asked.

They all agreed that it would be very pretty from that point.

"My idea is that the garden must look well from the house," said Dorothy.

"Mother wants a pergola somewhere. Don't you think the right place for it would be covering a walk leading from the house to here?"

"That's a great notion," approved Tom. "As you came toward the garden you'd have a--what do you call the effect--where you see a view framed in somehow?"

"Do you mean a vista?" asked Margaret.

"That's it. There would be a vista of the garden."

"It will be lovely!" Helen said decisively. "And I don't see why there shouldn't be a trellis framing a view of the woods toward Grandfather Emerson's; that would be pretty, too."

Dorothy went over to look at the drawing that Helen held up to her and decided straightway that it was worth trying. They all went toward the upper side of the garden where young peach trees were planted on the northern slope of the ridge and chose a spot which gave a charming picture of the adjoining field with its brook and the woods beyond.

"The birds are coming along pretty well now," announced James who had been lying on his back gazing up into the branches swaying in the upper breeze.

"Are you going to build any bird houses, Dorothy?" asked Ethel Brown.

"I suppose we'll have to if we want them to stay late in the season or all winter," replied her cousin. "But bird houses are so ugly."

"Not the modern ones," interposed James eagerly. "You make them out of pieces of the trunks of trees with the bark on, and you fix up a platform with a stick on it that has spikes to hang suet on and they aren't a bit conspicuous and lots of birds will stay all winter that otherwise would go south before the regular Palm Beach rush."

"We must have some then," Dorothy made up her mind. "Say 'Robert of Lincoln'?" she begged Ethel Brown, who was the Club's reciter, "and then we'll go home and have some cocoa and cookies."

"Do, Ethel Brown;" "Come on," were the cries from all the U. S. C.

members as they settled themselves to listen to Bryant's charming verses.

Merrily swinging on brier and weed, Near to the nest of his little dame, Over the mountain side and mead, Robert of Lincoln is telling his name, Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Snug and safe is that nest of ours, Hidden among the summer flowers, Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln is gaily dressed, Wearing a bright black wedding coat; White are his shoulders and white his crest, Hear him call in his cheery note: Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Look, what a nice new coat is mine, Sure there was never a bird so fine.

Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Pa.s.sing at home a patient life, Broods in the gra.s.s while her husband sings: Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Brood, kind creature; you need not fear Thieves and robbers while I am here.

Chee, chee, chee.

Modest and shy as a nun is she, One weak chirp is her only note, Braggart and prince of braggarts is he, Pouring boasts from his little throat: Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Never was I afraid of man; Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.

Chee, chee, chee.

Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Flecked with purple, a pretty sight!

There as the mother sits all day, Robert is singing with all his might: Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife that never goes out, Keeping house while I frolic about.

Chee, chee, chee.

Soon as the little ones chip the sh.e.l.l Six wide mouths are open for food; Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well, Gathering seed for the hungry brood.

Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; This new life is likely to be Hard for a gay young fellow like me.

Chee, chee, chee.

Robert of Lincoln at length is made Sober with work and silent with care; Off is his holiday garment laid, Half forgotten that merry air, Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; n.o.body knows but my mate and I Where our nest and our nestlings lie.

Chee, chee, chee.

Summer wanes, the children are grown; Fun and frolic no more he knows; Robert of Lincoln's a humdrum crone; Off he flies and we sing as he goes: Bob-o'link, bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; When you can pipe that merry old strain, Robert of Lincoln, come back again.

Chee, chee, chee.

CHAPTER IV CHRISTOPHER FINDS A NEW LODGING

There was trouble in chicken circles. The young chicks that the Ethels and Dorothy had helped d.i.c.ky move from the incubator to the brooder were making rapid progress toward broiler size, and had been transferred to a run of their own where they scratched and dozed happily through the long spring days. d.i.c.ky and Ayleesabet, the Belgian baby, were examining them on a late June afternoon. d.i.c.ky had brought with him his old friend, the turtle, which had not yet been moved to Dorothy's pool, since his present owner wanted to wait until his aunt's house was occupied before he let so cherished a possession go where he might slip away and his loss, perhaps, be unnoticed.

"When you're living right there tho you can watch Chrithtopher Columbuth all the time I'll let you have him," d.i.c.ky had promised Dorothy.

"I see myself in my mind's eye sitting side of the tank all day and night holding the turtle's paw!" Dorothy exclaimed when she told the Ethels of d.i.c.ky's decision.