Mary's Rainbow Part 12

"The why we made them is 'cause we want ev'ybody to know jes' 'zactly the things we must take to Bird-a-Lea with us."

"A very fine idea indeed, Berta. And now I have one that I am sure you will all like. It will never do, you know, for us to leave our old home looking untidy. I was thinking of hiring a man to put the yard in order after we go; but perhaps you would like to do it for me. There are a great many dead leaves on the gra.s.s, and the rain has washed the earth out on the walks in several places, and I saw some cobwebs on the porch----"

"Ugh! ugh! maybe they's spiders in them!"

"Never mind, Beth, I'se going to dead them for you. Beth doesn't like spiders and crawly things so very well, Uncle, you know."

"Then we shall leave the cobwebs to you and d.i.c.k, and let Beth and Jack rake leaves. But you will need the proper things to work with. Tom's rake and broom are too large and clumsy for you. Suppose you run up, Berta, to tell Mother and Aunt Etta that I am going to take you shopping with me."

The little girl soon returned, her face beaming. "Ev'ybody says they's puff.e.c.kly 'lighted to have you take us, Uncle."

Some time later, the neighbors were surprised at the strange procession coming up the street. It was led by d.i.c.k, proudly pus.h.i.+ng a little red wheelbarrow filled with garden tools and big sun hats. Berta came next with a small broom over each shoulder. Beth followed in the same manner, and baby Jack strutted after her with a little hoe. The Doctor brought up the rear, carrying anything that the children could not manage.

"But where is we going to put all these things so ev'ybody won't see them, Uncle?"

"We shall go in at the side gate, Beth, and Tom will find a hiding place for them in the barn. We are a little late for dinner, so no one will see us on our way back there."

Flushed and happy, the four took their places at the table.

"Nennybody can't guess what Uncle buyed us, and nennybody doesn't know the beauty grand s'prise we's going to make to-morrow morning-time.

Oh, I wish it was then now!" And Berta beamed on all present.

"But they's jes' one thing Uncle couldn't buy for us, 'cause they wasn't any room in the wheely-bal for it. But you'll take us for a nice walk this evening-time and buy it for us, won't you, Daddy?"

"There is some very important business which I must see your father about this evening, Beth," said the Doctor with a warning look which Mr. Selwyn did not catch. He had been so long separated from his family that he was anxious to do everything he could to make them happy. "Making up for lost time," he called it; and he would have spoiled the twins if it had not been for his wife, who would not let him buy everything they asked for.

"Perhaps I can go with you some other evening, pet. What is it you wish me to get for you?"

"O Daddy, it's the most beauty little bed for our dollies. Outside is all soft, white velvet, and inside is all white, s.h.i.+ny stuff and lace, and----and oh! it's jes _beauty_! And it has a cover to keep the flies and skeeties off when our chilluns go to sleep."

Mary and Wilhelmina left the table very quickly, and the Doctor chuckled. "We pa.s.sed the undertaker's on the avenue, and it was all I could do to get them home."

The two mothers looked at each other.

"I shall see that Rob takes no more evening walks until we are safe in the country," Mrs. Selwyn declared, and then listened to her husband's answer to the twins' coaxing.

"We already have so many things to pack that I really do not see where we shall find room for anything else. Better wait until Christmas when I shall tell Santa Claus to bring each of you a pretty bra.s.s bed for your dollies, with soft, warm blankets and everything just as you have for your own cribs. Velvet and satin and lace soil so easily, you know."

Mrs. Selwyn breathed a sigh of relief, and Mary and Wilhelmina returned to the table.

CHAPTER XI.

WEDNESDAY.

"Nennybody mustn't look out the windows into the yard today, not ever, ever at all," insisted Berta at the breakfast table next morning.

"Not ever, ever at all," echoed Beth.

"No, indeed! Just let me hear that anyone has tried to find out what our surprise is." And the Doctor looked with a terrible frown at Wilhelmina and Mary, who declared that their feelings were very much hurt, because they were not let into the secret. "I shall depend on you, d.i.c.k, to let me know whether anyone disobeys my orders."

"All right, Uncle Frank, I'll 'member every single one I see peeking out the windows."

A short time later, Mary and Wilhelmina dropped the blanket they were folding and stared at each other.

"Forever more! What in the world is that? It gives me the creeps."

Wilhelmina went to the window and, hidden by the curtains, peered down into the yard. From just below rose such a squeaking and a sc.r.a.ping as would make one's blood run cold.

"Ugh!" Mary clapped her hands to her ears. "It makes the s.h.i.+vers run up and down my spine!" She followed Wilhelmina to the window, and for some minutes the two watched the little ones hard at work with their hoes on patches of earth which the rain had washed out on the walk.

Then they dodged back; for Berta, pus.h.i.+ng back her big hat, stopped work to look carefully at each window on that side of the house. The two girls smiled at her gleeful, "Nennybody isn't looking, chilluns.

They can't ever guess _this_ s'prise, not ever, ever at all." And she turned to brush up the loose earth on her little spade which she then emptied into the waiting wheelbarrow.

All in the house chuckled behind the window curtains or blinds which hid them from Berta's sharp eyes. Squeak! Sc.r.a.pe! Screech! d.i.c.k and Beth used their little brooms and spades and added to the pile of earth in the wheelbarrow, while Jack scratched away at his special patch.

Those indoors went back to their work, glad that the little ones were happy at last; but it was not long before frantic cries drew them again to the windows to see Jack making off down the walk with the wheelbarrow, out of which a steady stream of earth was pouring. After he had been stopped and the earth brushed up, Berta decided that it was too warm to work any longer in the sun.

"Let's rake leaves. It's cool under the trees."

"That's jes' 'zactly what we'll do, d.i.c.k." Beth tossed off her hat and caught up her rake.

And how they raked! Not only leaves, but gra.s.s, roots and all, came up.

"By the time they finish, the yard will look as though a cyclone had struck it," laughed Wilhelmina.

"That doesn't matter one bit just so they are happy and out of mischief. Wasn't Uncle wonderful to think of such a thing for them to do?"

"I'm only afraid it's too good to last very long, Mary. They will soon get tired of such hard work."

Wilhelmina was right. After a few minutes under the trees, d.i.c.k and Berta threw down their rakes and went to sweep cobwebs from the railing of the porch; but Beth's fear of spiders kept her at the leaves, and she coaxed Jack to stay with her. At the end of a half hour, Wilhelmina again went to the window. "Didn't I tell you, Mary? Not one of them in sight. They are up to some mischief, mark my words.

They are too quiet for any good to come of it."

"But what mischief can they possibly get into in the yard, Wilhelmina?

Tom always closes the barn doors when he leaves it, and there is no way for them to hurt themselves. They have just found something to do around at the back of the house."

In one sense, Mary was right. The little ones had found something to do. But if she had known what that something was, she would not have gone about her work with such a light heart. She had many, many things to learn about the lively little sisters who had so suddenly come into her life again; and Wilhelmina, who knew very well what four-year-olds can be up to, chuckled at the thought of the surprises they would give Mary. Then she sniffed the air anxiously. "Mary, I smell smoke! I told you something is wrong!"

She ran from the room and down the back stairs, with Mary at her heels.

But Liza in the kitchen had caught sight of the blaze down in the corner between the barn and the fence and had hurried out on the back porch. They heard her shouting, "Git away fum dah! Git away fum dat fiah, yo' heah me!" And before they reached the kitchen, she had run down the steps, and s.n.a.t.c.hing up a carriage robe that lay airing on the gra.s.s, she rushed toward the children, who were clapping their hands and jumping about as near as possible to the burning rubbish. They did not hear Liza's shouts, nor did they notice what she had seen--a tiny flame leap out and catch the edge of the ruffle on Berta's little starched ap.r.o.n. Swiftly it crept along until a frightened cry from Beth warned Berta of her danger.

"Don't run, chile! Don't run! I'se gwine to put it out! Lay down on de ground, quick!"

But Berta jumped about and tore at her ap.r.o.n in frantic fear. Another moment and Liza was upon her, wrapping the robe around her and rolling her on the ground.

"Call yo' pa an' Tom, Miss May-ree, 'foah de fence kotches fiah! Missy Berta's all right! Tom's down in de cellah! Now, den." She removed the robe and made sure that nothing but Berta's ap.r.o.n had suffered from the fire, and that it was fright only which made the child cling to her, sobbing and moaning. She decided that a scolding all around would make everyone feel better and began, "What yo' s'pects ought to be did wif sech chilluns as yo' is, I lak to know! Which one ob yo' alls fetched de matches fo' to light dat fiah? 'Kase I knows Tom nebah done it. He's got moah sense dan to light a fiah wif yo' chilluns playin'

round heah."

"I----I tooked----s----some----m----matches from the k----k----kitchen when you w----went in the pantry."