Jimmy, Lucy, and All Part 18

"Oh, you wouldn't do that!" said she, with another toss of the head.

"Before I'd run away from an earthquake! Besides, what good would it do?"

By afternoon the news had spread about among the children that there was to be a terrible earthquake that day. They huddled together like frightened lambs. The little teacher, wis.h.i.+ng to rea.s.sure them, planted herself against the wall, and made what Edith would have called a "little preach."

She pointed out of the window to the clear sky and said she "could not see the least sign of an earthquake." But even if one should come they need not be afraid, for their heavenly Father would take care of them.

"And you mustn't think for a moment of running away! No, children, be quiet! Look at me, _I_ am quiet. I wouldn't run away if there were fifty earthquakes!"

Strange to say, she had hardly spoken these words when the house began to shake! They all knew too well what it meant, that frightful rocking and rumbling; the ground was opening under their feet!

Kyzie, though she may have feared it vaguely all along, was taken entirely by surprise, and did--what do you think? As quick as a flash, without waiting for a second thought, she turned and jumped out of the window!

Next moment, remembering the children, she screamed for them to follow her, and they poured out of the house, some by the window, some by the door, all shrieking like mad.

It was a wild scene,--the frantic teacher, the terrified children,--and Kyzie will never cease to blush every time she recalls it. For there was no earthquake after all! It was only the new "colonel" and his men blasting a rock in the mine!

Of course this escapade of the young teacher amused the people of Castle Cliff immensely. They called it "the little schoolma'am's earthquake"; and the little schoolma'am heard of it and almost wished it had been a real earthquake and had swallowed her up.

"Oh, Papa Dunlee! Oh, Mamma Dunlee!" she cried, her cheeks crimson, her eyelids swollen from weeping. "I keep finding out that I'm not half so much of a girl as I thought I was! What does make me do such ridiculous things?"

"You are only very young, you dear child," replied her parents.

They pitied her sincerely and did their best to console her. But they were wise people, and perhaps they knew that their eldest daughter needed to be humbled just a little. It was hard, very hard, yet sometimes it is the hard things which do us most good.

"O mamma, don't ask me to go down to dinner. I can't, I can't!"

"No indeed, darling, your dinner shall be sent up to you. What would you like?"

"No matter what, mamma--I don't care for eating. I can't ever hold up my head any more. And as for going into that school again, I never, never, never will do it."

"I think you will, my daughter," said Mr. Dunlee, quietly. "I think you'll go back and live this down and 'twill soon be all forgotten."

"O papa, do you really, really think 'twill ever be forgotten? Do you think so, mamma? A silly, disgraceful, foolish, outrageous, abominable,--there, I can't find words bad enough!"

As her parents were leaving the room she revived a little and added:--

"Remember, mamma, just soup and chicken and celery. But a full saucer of ice-cream. I hope 'twill be vanilla."

XIII

NATE'S CAVE

The little teacher went back to her school the very next day. It was a hard thing, but she knew her parents desired it. Her proud head was lowered; she could not meet the eyes of the children, who seemed to be trying their best not to laugh. At last she spoke:--

"I got frightened yesterday. I was not very brave; now was I? Hark! The people in the mine are blasting rocks again, but we won't run away, will we?"

They laughed, and she tried to laugh, too. Then she called the cla.s.ses into the floor; and no more did she ever say to the scholars about the earthquake. She helped Nate in his arithmetic, and he treated her like a queen. He was coming to Aunt Vi's room that evening to show his knee-buckles and c.o.c.ked hat and find out just what he was to do on the stage.

Kyzie wanted to see the c.o.c.ked hat and felt interested in her own white cap which Mrs. McQuilken was making. It was a good thing for Katharine that she had "Jimmy's play" to think of just now. It helped her through that long forenoon. After this the forenoons did not drag; school went on as usual, and Kyzie was glad she had had the courage to go back and "live down" her foolish behavior.

When they met in Aunt Vi's room that evening it was decided not to have "Jimmy's play" on the tailings, for that was a place free to all. People would not buy tickets for an entertainment out of doors.

"My tent is the thing," said Uncle James, and so they all thought It was a large white one, and the children agreed to decorate it with evergreens. It would hold all the people who were likely to come and many more.

During the week Uncle James set up the tent not far from the hotel and in one corner of it built a staging. He did not mind taking trouble for his beloved namesake, James Sanford Dunlee. The stage was made to look like a room in an old-fas.h.i.+oned house. It had a make-believe door and window and a make-believe fireplace with andirons and wood and shovel and tongs. There was a rag rug on the floor, and on the three-legged stand stood the hour-gla.s.s with candles in iron candlesticks. The fiddle-backed chairs were there and two _hard_ "easy-chairs" and an old wooden "settle." Lucy and Bab said it looked "like somebody's house,"

and they wanted to go and live in it.

On the Sat.u.r.day afternoon appointed the play had been well learned by the four actors. Everything being ready, this cosy little sitting-room was now shut off from view by a calico curtain which was stretched across the stage by long strings run through bra.s.s rings.

The play would begin at half-past two. Jimmy was dressed neatly in his very best clothes. He had a roll of paper and a pencil in one of his pockets and during the play he meant to add up the number of people present and find out how much money had been taken.

"But Jimmy-boy, it won't be very much," said Edith. "This is an empty town, and so queer too. Something may happen at the last minute that will spoil the whole thing."

She was right. Something did happen which no one could have foreseen.

For an "empty" town Castle Cliff was famous for events.

As Jimmy left the hotel just after luncheon he overtook Nate Pollard and Joe Rolfe standing near a big sand bank, talking together earnestly.

"Come on, Jimmum," said Nate; "we've got a spade for you. We're going to dig a cave in the side of this bank."

"What's the use of a cave?"

"Why, for one thing, we can run into it in time of an earthquake."

"That's so," said Jimmy. "Or we could stay in and be cave-dwellers."

But as he took up the spade he chanced to look down at his new clothes.

He had spoiled one nice suit already and had promised his mother he would be more careful of this one.

"Wait till I put on my old clothes, will you?"

Nate laughed and snapped his fingers. "We're in a hurry. I've got to be in the tent in half an hour. Go along, you little dude! We'll dig the cave without you."

The laugh cut Jimmy to the heart. And he had been learning to like Nate so well. A dude? Not he! Besides, what harm would dry sand do? It's "clean dirt."

Then all in a minute he thought of that wild journey on the roof. It had made a deeper impression upon him than any other event of his life.

"Poh! Am I going to dig dirt in my best clothes just because Nate Pollard laughs at me? I don't 'take stumps' any more; there's no sense in it, so there!"

And off he started, afraid to linger lest he should fall into temptation. Jimmy might be heedless, no doubt he often was; but when he really stopped to think, he always respected his mother's wishes and always kept his word to her.

This was the trait in Jimmy which marked him off as a highly bred little fellow. For let me tell you, boys, respect for your elders is the first point of high breeding all the world over.

Jimmy sauntered on slowly toward the door of the tent. There were a great many benches inside, but it was not time yet for the audience to arrive. Uncle James and Katharine and Edith were on the stage, and Aunt Vi was adding a few touches to Edith's dress.