- -
- 100%
- +
He whacked his brothers on the shoulder as he named them, and they ducked forward in polite, if awkward salutation.
"And did you really take our wood?" said Marjorie, with an accusing glance, as if surprised that such pleasant-spoken boys could do such a thing.
"Yes, we did. We wanted to see what sort of stuff you were made of. You know Seacote people are sort of like one big family, and we wanted to know how you'd behave about the wood. You've been fine, and now we'll cart it back where we found it. If you had got mad about it, we wouldn't touch a stick to take it back,—would we, fellows?"
"Nope," said the other two, and the Maynards could see at once that Tom was the captain and ringleader of the trio.
"Well," said King, judicially, "if you hadn't been the sort you are, I should have got mad. But I guess you're all right, and so you may take it back. But we don't help you do it,—see? I'm Kingdon Maynard, and this is my sister Marjorie. You fellows took our wood, and now you're going to return it. Is that right?"
"Right-o!" said Tom. "Come on, fellows."
The three boys flew at it, and King and Midget sat on the sand and watched them till the wood was restored to its original position.
"All right," said King; "you boys'll do. Now, come on and roast potatoes with us."
Thus, all demands of honor having been complied with, the five proceeded to become friends. The boys built the fire, and gallantly let Marjorie have the fun of putting the potatoes and apples in place.
The Craig boys had nice instincts, and while they were rather rough-and-tumble among themselves, they treated King more decorously, and seemed to consider Marjorie as a being of a higher order, made to receive not only respect, but reverent homage.
"You see, we never had a sister," said Tom; "and we're a little bit scared of girls."
"Well, I have three," said King, "so you see I haven't such deep awe of them. But Midget won't hurt you, so don't be too scared of her."
Marjorie smiled in most friendly fashion, for she liked these boys, and especially Tom.
"How old are you?" she asked him, in her frank, pleasant way.
"I'm fourteen," replied Tom, "and the other kids are twelve and ten."
"King's fourteen,—'most fifteen," said Midget; "and I'll be thirteen in July. So we're all in the same years. I wish our Kitty was here. She's nearly eleven, but she isn't any bigger than Harry."
Harry smiled shyly, and poked at the potatoes with a stick, not knowing quite what to say.
"You see," King explained, "Midget is the best sort of a girl there is. She's girly, all right, and yet she's as good as a boy at cutting up jinks or doing any old kind of stunts."
The three Craigs looked at Marjorie in speechless admiration.
"I never knew that kind," said Tom, thoughtfully. "You see, we go to a boys' school, and we haven't any girl cousins, or anything; and the only girls I ever see are at dancing class, or in a summer hotel, and then they're all frilled up, and sort of airy."
"I love to play with boys," said Marjorie, frankly, "and I guess we'll have a lot of fun this summer."
"I guess we will! Are you going to stay all summer?"
"Yes, till September, when school begins."
"So are we. Isn't it funny we live next door to each other?"
"Awful funny," agreed Marjorie, pulling a very black potato out of the red-hot embers. "This is done," she went on, "and I'm going to eat it."
"So say we all of us," cried King. "One done,—all done! Help yourselves, boys!"
So they all pulled out the black, sooty potatoes, with more delighted anticipations than would have been roused by the daintiest dish served at a table.
"Ow!" cried Marjorie, flinging down her potato, and sticking her finger in her mouth. "Ow! that old thing popped open, and burned me awfully!"
"Too bad, Mops!" said King, with genuine sympathy, but the Craig boys were more solicitous.
"Oh, oh! I'm so sorry," cried Tom. "Does it hurt terribly?"
"Yes, it does," said Midget, who was not in the habit of complaining when she got hurt, but who was really suffering from the sudden burn.
"Let me tie it up," said Dick, shyly.
"Yes, do," said Tom. "Dick is our good boy. He always helps everybody else."
"But what can we tie it up with?" said Marjorie. "My handkerchief is all black from wiping off that potato."
"I,—I've got a clean one," and Dick, blushing with embarrassment, took a neatly folded white square from his pocket.
"Would you look at that!" said Tom. "I declare Dicky always has the right thing at the right time! Good for you, boy! Fix her up."
Quite deftly Dick wrapped the handkerchief round Marjorie's finger, and secured it with a bit of string from another pocket.
"You ought to have something on it," he said, gravely. "Kerosene is good, but as we haven't any, it will help it just to keep the air away from it, till you go home."
"Goodness!" exclaimed Midget. "You talk like a doctor."
"I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up," said Dick.
"He is," volunteered Harry; "he cured the cat's broken leg, and he mended a bird's wing once."
"Yes, I did," admitted Dick, modestly blushing at his achievements. "Are you going right home because of your finger?"
"No, indeed! We never stop for hurts and things, unless they're bad enough for us to go to bed. Give me another potato, and you open it for me, won't you, Dick?"
"Yep," and Marjorie was immediately supplied with the best of the potatoes and apples, carefully prepared for her use.
"Aren't there any other girls in Seacote?" she inquired.
"There's Hester Corey," answered Tom; "but we don't know her very well. She isn't nice, like you are. And I don't know of any others, though there may be some. Most of the people in the cottages haven't any children,—or else they're grown up,—big girls and young ladies. And there's a few little babies, but not many of our age. So that's why we're so glad you came."
"And that's why you stole our wood!"
"Yes, truly. We thought that'd be a good way to test your temper."
"It was a risky way," said King, thinking it over.
"Oh, I don't know. I knew, if you were the right sort, you'd take it all right; and if you weren't the right sort, we didn't care how you took it."
"That's so," agreed Marjorie.
CHAPTER III
THE SAND CLUB
Life at Seacote soon settled down to its groove, and it was a very pleasant groove. There was always plenty of fun to be had. Bathing every day in the crashing breakers, digging in the sand, building beach fires, talking to the old fishermen, were all delightful pursuits. And then there were long motor rides inland, basket picnics in pine groves, and excursions to nearby watering-places.
The Craig boys turned out to be jolly playfellows, and they and the Maynards became inseparable chums. Marjorie often wished one of them had been a girl, but at the same time, she enjoyed her unique position of being the only girl in the crowd. The boys deferred to her as to a princess, and she ruled them absolutely.
Of course the senior Craigs and Maynards became good friends also, and the two ladies especially spent many pleasant hours together.
Baby Rosamond rarely played with the older children, as she was too little to join in their vigorous games, often original with themselves, and decidedly energetic. The beach was their favorite playground. They never tired of digging in the sand, and they had a multitude of spades and shovels and hoes for their various sand performances. Some days they built a fort, other days a castle or a pleasure ground. Their sand-works were extensive and elaborate, and it often seemed a pity that the tide or the wind should destroy them over night.
"I say, let's us be a Sand Club," said Tom one day. "We're always playing in the sand, you know."
"All right," said Marjorie, instantly seeing delightful possibilities. "We'll call ourselves Sand Crabs, for we're always scrambling through the sand."
"And we're jolly as sandboys!" said King. "I don't know what sandboys really are, but they're always jolly, and so are we."
"I'd like something more gay and festive," Marjorie put in; "I mean like Court Life, or something where we could dress up, and pretend things."
"I know what you mean," said Dick, grasping her idea. "Let's have Sand Court, and build a court and a throne, and we'll all be royal people and Marjorie can be queen."
"Well, let's all have sandy names," suggested Tom. "Marjorie can be Queen Sandy. And we'll call our court Sandringham Palace. You know there is one, really."
"You can be the Grand Sandjandrum!" said King, laughing.
"No, you be that," said Tom, unselfishly.
"No, sir; you've got to. I'll be a sand piper, and play the court anthems."
"All right," said Marjorie, "and Harry can be a sand crab, for he just scuttles through the sand all the time. What'll Dick be?"
King looked at Dick. "We'll call him Sandow," he suggested, and they all laughed, for Dick was a frail little chap, without much muscular strength. But the name stuck to him, and they always called him Sandow thereafter.
"I wish we could make our palace where it would stay made," said Marjorie. "We don't want to make a new one every day."
"That's so," said Tom. "If we only could find a secret haunt."
"I know a kind of a one," said Dick; "'way back in our yard, near where it joins yours, is a deepy kind of a place, and it's quite sandy."
"Just the thing!" cried Marjorie. "I know that place. Come on!"
She was off like a deer, and the rest followed. A few moments' scamper brought them to the place, and all declared it was just the very spot for a palace.
"I'd like beach sand better, though," said Marjorie.
"We'll bring all you want," declared Tom. "We'll take a wheelbarrow, and bring heaps up from the beach."
The Sand Club worked for days getting their palace in order. The two big boys wheeled many loads of sand up from the beach, and Marjorie and the two other boys arranged it in shape.
Dick was clever at building, and he planned a number of fine effects. Of course, their palace had no roof or walls, but the apartments were partitioned off with low walls of sand, and there were sand sofas and chairs, and a gorgeous throne.
The throne was a heap of sand, surmounted by a legless armchair, found in the Craigs' attic, and at court meetings draped with pink cheesecloth and garlands of flowers. The whole palace was really a "secret haunt," for a slight rise of ground screened it from view on two sides and trees shaded the other side.
The parents of both families were pleased with the whole scheme, for it kept the children occupied, and they could always be found at a moment's notice.
Sand tables were built, and on them were bits of old dishes and broken vases, all of which were desirable because they could stay out in the rain and not be harmed. Moreover, they were handy in case of a feast. At last preparations were complete and they decided to open the court next day.
"We must have a flag," said Marjorie. "I'll make it. The court colors are red and yellow, and our emblem will be,—what shall our emblem be?"
"A pail of sand," suggested Tom.
"Yes; I can cut out a pail of red flannel, and sew it on to a yellow flag. I'll make that this afternoon, and we'll hold court to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. We must all wear some red and yellow. Sashes will do for you boys, and I'll have,—well, I'll fix up a rig of some kind."
Marjorie was a diligent little worker when she chose to be, and that afternoon she made a very creditable flag, showing a pail, red; on a field, yellow. She made also sashes for them all, of red and yellow cheesecloth, and she made herself a court train of the same material, which trailed grandly from her shoulders.
Next morning the Sand Club assembled on the Maynards' veranda, to march to Sandringham Palace.
Mrs. Craig had helped out the costumes of her royal children, and the Grand Sandjandrum was gorgeous in a voluminous yellow turban, with a red cockade sticking up on one side.
Sandow and the Sand Crab had soldier hats made of red and yellow paper, and big sailor collars of the same colors.
The Sand Piper wore his sash jauntily with a huge shoulder knot, and he, too, had a cockaded headgear.
Marjorie, as Queen Sandy, wore her trailing court robe and a crown of yellow paper with red stars on it. She had a sceptre, and Sandow carried the flag.
The Sand Piper marched ahead, playing on a tuneful instrument known as a kazoo. Next came the Grand Sandjandrum, then the Queen, then the Sand Crab, and finally, Sandow with the flag.
Slowly and with great dignity the procession filed out toward the palace. King was playing the Star Spangled Banner, or thought he was. It sounded almost as much like Hail Columbia,—but it didn't really matter, and they're both difficult tunes, anyway.
Blithely they stepped along, and prepared to enter the palace with a flourish of trumpets, as it were, when King's music stopped suddenly.
"Great Golliwogs!" he cried. "Look at that!"
"Look at what?" said Tom, who was absorbed in the grand march.
But he looked, and they all looked, and five angry exclamations sounded as they saw only the ruins of the beloved Sandringham Palace.
Somebody had utterly demolished it. The low walls were broken and scattered, the sand tables and chairs were torn down, and the throne was entirely upset.
"Who did this?" roared Tom.
But as nobody knew the answer, there was no reply.
"It couldn't have been any of your servants, could it?" asked King of the Craigs. "I know it wasn't any of ours."
"No; it wasn't ours, either," said Tom. "Could it have been your little sister?"
"Mercy, no!" cried Marjorie. "Rosy Posy isn't that sort of a child. Oh, I do think it's awful!" and forgetting her royal dignity, Queen Sandy began to cry.
"Why, Mops," said King, kindly; "brace up, old girl. Don't cry."
"I'm not a cry baby," said Midget, smiling through her tears. "I'm just crying 'cause I'm so mad! I'm mad clear through! How could anybody be so ugly?"
"I'm mad, too," declared Tom, slowly, "but I know who did it, and it's partly my fault, I s'pose."
"Your fault!" exclaimed Midget. "Why, Tom, how can it be?"
"Well, you see it was this way. Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Corey came to call on my mother, and she brought Hester with her."
"That red-headed girl?"
"Yes; and she has a temper to match her hair! Mother made me talk to her, and, as I didn't know what else to talk about, I told her about our Sand Club, and about the Court to-day and everything. And she wanted to belong to the club, and I told her she couldn't, because it was just the Maynards and the Craigs. And she was madder'n hops, and she coaxed me, and I still said no, and then she said she'd get even with us somehow."
"But, Tom," said King, "we don't know that girl to speak to. We hardly know her by sight."
"But we do. We knew her when we were here last summer, but, you see, this year we've had you two to play with, so we've sort of neglected her,—and she doesn't like it."
"But that's no reason she should spoil our palace," and Marjorie looked sadly at the scene of ruin and destruction.
"No; and of course I'm not sure that she did do it. But she said she'd do something to get even with you."
"With me? Why, she doesn't know me at all."
"That's what she's mad about. She says you're stuck up, and you put on airs and never look at her."
"Why, how silly! I don't know her, but somehow, from her looks, I know I shouldn't like her."
"No, you wouldn't, Marjorie. She's selfish, and she's ill-tempered. She flies into a rage at any little thing, and,—well, she isn't a bit like you Maynards."
"No! and I'm glad of it! I wouldn't want to be like such a stuck-up thing!"
These last words were spoken by a strange voice, and Marjorie looked round quickly to see a shock of red hair surmounting a very angry little face just appearing from behind the small hill, beneath whose overhanging shadow they had built their palace.
"Why, Hester Corey!" shouted Tom. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to see how you like your old sand-house!" she jeered, mockingly, and making faces at Marjorie between her words. Marjorie was utterly astonished. It was her first experience with a child of this type, and she didn't know just how to take her.
The newcomer was a little termagant. Her big blue eyes seemed to flash with anger, and as she danced about, shaking her fist at Marjorie and pointing her forefinger at her, she cried, tauntingly, "Stuck up! Proudy!"
Marjorie grew indignant. She had done nothing knowingly to provoke this wrath, so she faced the visitor squarely, and glared back at her.
"I'd rather be stuck up than to be such a spiteful thing as you are!" she declared. "Did you tear down this palace that we took such trouble to build?"
"Yes, I did!" said Hester. "And if you build it again, I'll tear it down again,—so, there, now!"
"You'll do no such thing!" shouted Tom.
"Huh, Smarty! What have you got to say about it?"
The crazy little Hester flew at Tom and pounded him vigorously on the back.
"I hate you!" she cried. "I hate you!"
As a matter of fact, her little fists couldn't hurt the big, sturdy boy, but her intense anger made him angry too.
"You, Hester Corey!" he cried. "You leave me alone!"
King stood a little apart, with his hands in his pockets, looking at the combatants.
"Say, we've had about enough of this," he said, speaking quietly, and without excitement. "We Maynards are not accustomed to this sort of thing. We squabble sometimes, but we never get really angry."
"Goody-goody boy!" said Hester, sneeringly, and making one of her worst faces at him. For some reason this performance struck King as funny.
"Do it again," he said. "How do you ever squink up your nose like that! Bet you can't do it three times in succession."
The audacious Hester tried it, and the result was so ludicrous they all laughed.
"Now look here," went on King, "we're not acquainted with you, but we know you're Hester Corey. We know you spoiled our Sand Palace, just out of angry spite. Now, Hester Corey, you've got to be punished for that. We're peaceable people ourselves, but we're just, also. We were about to have a nice celebration, but you've put an end to that before it began. So, instead, we're going to have a trial. You're the prisoner, and you've pleaded guilty,—at least, you've confessed your crime. Queen Sandy, get into that throne,—never mind if it is upset,—set it up again. Grand Sandjandrum, take your place on that mussed up sand heap. You two other chaps,—stand one each side of the prisoner as sentinels. I'll conduct this case, and Queen Sandy will pronounce the sentence. It's us Maynards that Hester Corey seems to have a grudge against, so it's up to us Maynards to take charge of the case. Prisoner, stand on that board there."
"I won't do it!" snapped Hester, and the red locks shook vigorously.
"You will do it," said King, quietly, and for some reason or other Hester quailed before his glance, and then meekly stood where he told her to.
"Have you anything to say for yourself?" King went on. "Any excuse to offer for such a mean, hateful piece of work?"
Hester sulked a minute, then she said:
"Yes, I was mad at you, because you all have such good times, and wouldn't let me in them."
"What do you mean by that? You never asked to come in."
"I did. I asked Tom Craig yesterday, and he wouldn't ask you."
"Then why are you mad at us?"
"Because you're so proud and exclusive. You think yourselves so great; you think nobody's as good as you are!"
"That isn't true, Hester," said King, quite gently; "and even if it were, are you proving yourself better than we are by cutting up this mean, babyish trick? If you want us to like you, why not make yourself likeable, instead of horrid and hateful?"
This was a new idea to Hester, and she stared at King as if greatly interested.
"That's right," he went on. "If people want people to like them, they must be likeable. They must be obliging and kind and pleasant, and not small and spiteful."
"You haven't been very nice to me," muttered Hester.
"We haven't had a chance. And before we get a chance you upset everything by making us dislike you! What kind of common sense is that?"
"Maybe you could forgive me," suggested Hester, hopefully.
"Maybe we could, later on. But we're for fair play, and you treated us unfairly. So now, you've got to be punished. Queen Sandy, Grand Sandjandrum, which of you can suggest proper punishment for this prisoner of ours?"
Tom thought for a moment, then he said:
"Seems 's if she ought to put this palace back in order, just as it was when she found it,—but that's too hard work for a girl."
"I'll help her," said Harry, earnestly. "I'm sorry for her."
"Sorry for her!" cried Tom, with blazing eyes. "Sorry for the girl that spoiled our palace!"
"Well, you see," went on Harry, "she's sorry herself now."
CHAPTER IV
SAND COURT
With one accord, they all looked at Hester. Sure enough, it was easily to be seen that she was sorry. All her anger and rage had vanished, and she stood digging one toe into the sand, and twisting from side to side, with her eyes cast down, and two big tears rolling slowly down her cheeks.
Marjorie sprang up from her wabbly throne, and running to Hester, threw her arms around her.
"Don't cry, Hester," she said. "We'll all forgive you. I think you lost your temper and I think you're sorry now, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes, yes, I am!" sobbed Hester. "But I envied the good times you had, and when Tom wouldn't let me into your club, I got so mad I didn't know what to do."
"There, there, don't cry any more," and Midget smoothed the tangled red mop, and tried to comfort the bad little Hester.
Tom looked rather disappointed.
"I say," he began, "she did an awful mean thing, and she ought to be–"
"Hold on a minute, Tom," said Marjorie. "I'm Queen of this club, and what I say goes! Is that right, my courtiers?"
She looked round at the boys, smiling in a wheedlesome way, and King said, "Right, O Queen Sandy! Right always and ever, in the hearts of your gentlemen-in-waiting."
"You bet you are!" cried Tom, quick to follow King's lead. "Our noble Queen has but to say the word, and it is our law. Therefore, O Queen, we beg thee to mete out a just punishment to this prisoner within our gates."
"Hear ye! Hear ye!" said Midget, with great dramatic fervor. "I hereby forgive this prisoner of ours, because she's truly sorry she acted like the dickens. And as a punishment, I condemn her to rebuild this royal palace, but, following Harry's example, we will all help her with the work."
Then King burst forth into song:
"Hooray, Hooray, for our noble Queen,The very best monarch that ever was seen.There's nobody quite so perfectly dandy,As our most gracious, most noble Queen Sandy!"They all repeated this chorus, and the Queen bowed and smiled at her devoted court.
"And also," her Royal Highness went on, "we hereby take into our club Miss Hester Corey as a new member. I'm glad to have another girl in it,—and what I say goes!"
This time Tom made up the song:
"What she says, goes!She's sweet as a rose,From head to toes,So what she says, goes!""Miss Hester Corey is now a member," said Midget, "and her name is,—is–"
"Sand Witch," suggested Tom.
"Yes," said King; "you expect witches to cut up tricks."
"All right," said Hester. "Call me Sand Witch, and you'll see there are good witches as well as bad."
"Come on, then," said Marjorie, "and show us how you can work. Let's put this palace back into shape again as quick as scat!"
They all fell to work, and it didn't take so very long after all. Hester was conquered by the power of Marjorie's kindness, and she was meek as a lamb. She did whatever she was told, and was a quick and willing worker.
"Now," said Midget, after it was all in order once more, "now we'll have our celebration. You see, we have six in our court now, instead of five, and I think it's nicer. I'll give the Sand Witch my sash to wear, and she can be my first lady-in-waiting."