Patty Fairfield

So when the party was talked about, all discussion was concerning the entertainment of the minds of the young guests.

Intellectual games were proposed, and even Ruth grew almost excited over the scheme of a "Quotation Salad."

But Cousin Elizabeth said, "Games are not enough. I want something more like a character party. Ah, I have it. Let us ask each guest to represent some children's book, or some favorite character in juvenile literature."

"Just the thing," exclaimed Barbara; "Eddie can be 'Little Lord

Fauntleroy.'"

Eddie was a neighbor's child, who had long flaxen curls and who would make a perfect counterpart of the pictures of Fauntleroy. The Flemings all entered into the plan of the party with their usual enthusiasm, and found time between their numerous engagements to prepare quite a programme of entertainment.

A platform was put up in the library, with curtains to draw in front of it, and as this was done very easily and quickly, Patty rightly judged it had often been done before.

At last the time came, and everything was in readiness. The party was to begin at seven, and promptly at that hour the boys and girls began to arrive. Though seemingly so indifferent to every-day costumes, Cousin Elizabeth had taken much interest in dressing Patty and Ruth for this occasion, and Patty looked very sweet and pretty arrayed as Little Bo-Peep. Cousin Tom had chosen this character for her, and had helped to design the dress. It was, of course, the garb of a dainty little shepherdess, and it had blue panniers over a quilted white satin petticoat, and a black velvet bodice laced over a white chemisette.

Then Patty wore a broad brimmed hat trimmed with roses and fluttering ribbons. High-heeled slippers with bright buckles and a crook tied with blue ribbons added to the quaint effect, and the whole costume was very becoming to pretty Patty.

Ruth looked equally well, though in a very different way.

She represented the Puritan Maiden, Priscilla; who, though not a juvenile character was one of Ruth's favorite heroines, and the dress suited her so well, that Cousin Elizabeth said she should wear it.

A straight, scant gown of Quaker gray silk, a soft white mull kerchief folded across her breast, and a white muslin cap, transformed Ruth into a demure little Puritan maid.

Her small, pale face and quiet eyes suited the character, and the modest garb was very becoming.

Among the guests were represented, Red Ridinghood, Cinderella, Little Boy Blue, Simple Simon, and many other well-known personages from Fairy Tales or Mother Goose's Melodies.

Then there were characters from more recent books, such as Little Women, Alice in Wonderland, Master Skylark and even Arabella and Araminta, who were dressed exactly alike.

Historical characters were there too; the Princess in the Tower chatted amiably with Joan of Arc, while Lady Jane Grey compared notes with Pocahontas.

Some of the children wore such nondescript costumes that it was difficult to guess whom they intended to represent.

After all had arrived the programme of entertainment was begun.

The motley crowd was seated in the library and soon the curtains in front of the platform were drawn apart revealing a table on which was a large gramophone.

Cousin Tom manipulated the instrument and the children heard orchestral music, plantation songs, comic speeches, and finally the exhibition-day exercises of a district school, which made them all laugh. After this, several of the guests were called on to recite or to sing, and as they had been notified beforehand, they were prepared for the occasion, and exerted their best elocutionary and vocal efforts.

As her contribution to the entertainment, Patty sang several of Robert

Louis Stevenson's child-songs, which are set to such beautiful music, and

Ruth recited a portion of "The Courtship of Miles Standish."

Then the curtains were drawn, and soon after the lights in the room were all turned out. Then the curtains flew open again disclosing a white sheet brightly illuminated from behind.

Somebody read aloud the poem by Richard Barham about "The Knight and the Lady," while a shadow pantomime representing the action of the ballad was shown on the sheet.

It was very funny.

Cousin Elizabeth was the Lady Jane, who was "tall and slim," while the part of Sir Thomas was wonderfully well acted by Cousin Tom, and when that portly old gentleman, who it seems was a naturalist, went around "unearthing his worms and his grubs," he looked very funny indeed.

And then when

"Close by the sideOf the bank he espiedAn uncommon fine tadpole, remarkably fat;He stooped, and he thought her his own, he had caught her,Got hold of her tail, and to land almost brought her,When, he plumped head and heels into fifteen feet water,"

and the shadow Sir Thomas ducked suddenly into the pond, and a very real

splashing was heard, the delighted audience fairly shouted with laughter.

And then when the funny old gardener appeared, bringing to the august Lady Jane the news of Sir Thomas' fate, and when the jocund Captain McBride tried to console the weeping lady,—but, no, I can't tell it all to you; to see how funny it all was you will have to read the ballad in the "Ingoldsby Legends" for yourself.

When that was over, sandwiches, ices and cakes were served and they seemed to be as thoroughly enjoyed by the young people as were Aunt Isabel's elaborate feasts, though by contrast it seemed to Patty a very slight repast.

Next came the "Quotation Salad" which was Ruth's pride and delight.

Cousin Elizabeth passed around a great bowl, which seemed to be full of leaves of crisp, green lettuce.

They were, however, made of tissue paper, and each leaf had attached to it a strip of writing paper on which was written a quotation.

These were from well-known poems or historic speeches, or even from Mother

Goose's Melodies and other juvenile classics.

Each child drew out three leaves, and endeavored to remember or guess the source of the quotations written thereon.

Then the roll was called, and all who could give their three answers correctly were marked one hundred.

After this, the unguessed ones were read aloud, and whoever could answer them received ten more on his or her score for each perfect answer.

To the child attaining the highest score, a prize of a Dictionary of

Quotations was to be awarded.

Patty's three questions were easy enough. One was "His cause is marching on."

Another was "Twinkle, twinkle little bat," and the third was "Don't give up the ship."

She could place all three, but when the more difficult ones were announced, she found that she knew very little about general literature.

Ruth, however, could tell the author of nearly every one, and no one was surprised when her score was declared the highest.

However, as she was the hostess, she declined to accept the prize, and it was given to the guest whose score stood the next highest.

Other intellectual or literary games were played, and at eleven o'clock the children were sent home, and Aunt Hester bade Ruth and Patty go to bed at once, lest they should not feel like getting up at the usual hour the next morning.

Patty heartily thanked Cousin Elizabeth for taking so much pains to make the party a pleasant one, and ran away to bed, wondering if many little girls had such clever relatives.

The spring flew by, and Patty could scarcely realize that she had been in Boston nearly three months, when a letter came from Mrs. Barlow her mother's sister, at whose house she was to visit next.

"My dear Patty," her Aunt Grace wrote, "we are going to our country home on Long Island about the first of June, and we want you to come to us as soon as we get settled there. No,—not settled, we're never that, but as soon as we get enough things straightened out to live with. Our country-place is called 'The Hurly-Burly,' so you may prepare yourself to see a family that lives up to that name. But there is plenty of amusement, if you are fond of boating and bathing, and we will all welcome you with open arms and glad hearts; and the sooner you come, the better we shall like it. Your cousins, Bob and Bumble are very anxious to see you, and are making wonderful plans for your entertainment. So come as soon as you can, and if you will let us know at what hour to expect you, Uncle Theodore will meet you at the Grand Central Station in New York, and bring you over to us at Long Island.

"Your loving Aunt,

"GRACE BARLOW."

"But I don't want you to go," said Ruth, when she heard the letter read;

"I'd like to have you stay here always."

Patty was surprised at this, for Ruth had always seemed so cold and unresponsive, that it didn't seem as if she had any affection in her nature.

The other members of the Fleming family echoed Ruth's sentiments, and though Patty felt sure their expressions were honestly meant, yet she thought, too, that as soon as she had gone, she would be forgotten in the rush of their busy life.

One morning in early June as they sat at the breakfast-table, Patty received a telegram, which said:

"Come at once before all are drowned. Grand Central five.

"HELEN BARLOW."

Although Patty didn't know it, Helen was the real name of her cousin who was always called Bumble, and Patty, horror-stricken at the import of this message, read it aloud, asking what it could mean.

The Fleming family were entirely unacquainted with the Barlows, and could give no clue, but one and all were filled with consternation at the peremptory summons.

Cousin Tom took the yellow paper and perused it carefully, then said:

"One thing is clear, at any rate, Patty, they expect you to be at the Grand Central Station in New York to-day at five o'clock, and you shall be there, for I'll take you myself."

So they all helped with the packing, and succeeded in getting one trunk ready for Patty to take with her, promising to send her other belongings after her a few days later.

With hurried good-byes and a promise of another visit to Boston at some future time, Patty went away with Cousin Tom, and they took the train for New York.

CHAPTER XII

THE HURLY-BURLY

Patty and Cousin Tom reached the Grand Central station in New York about six o'clock, and leaving the train, went in search of any member of the Barlow family who might be there to meet them.

They hadn't walked a dozen steps before they were confronted by three broadly smiling faces.

These faces belonged to a tall, large man with his arms full of bundles, and a boy and girl who seemed both to be about Patty's own age.

"You're Patty, I know it,—I know it!" cried the girl, and she flung her arms round Patty's neck and kissed her heartily. "I am Bumble, and this is Bob, my twin; oh, I'm so glad to get you."

By this time Bob was shaking Patty's hand vigorously, and Mr. Barlow was trying to squeeze all of his bundles into one arm, that he might have a hand free to offer his niece.

Then Patty introduced Cousin Tom, and the party all went into the waiting-room together.

"But who sent me that telegram? and who is Helen?" inquired Patty, as she walked along with one of her twin cousins clinging to either arm.

"Oh, that's me," said Bumble. "My real name's Helen, but nobody ever calls me it."

"Because she's like a bumble-bee," explained Bob. "She's always tumbling about and knocking into people, and she's so buzzy and fat."

"Yes," said Bumble, good-naturedly, "I am; I'd like to be slim and graceful like you, but I'm not, so I just put up with myself and have all the fun I can."

Mr. Barlow gave Mr. Fleming a cordial invitation to continue his journey with Patty, and spend the night at "The Hurly-Burly," as his country-place on Long Island was called, but Cousin Tom declined, saying he had business in New York.

"But, Patty," he said, "your new-found relatives seem to be in no immediate danger of drowning."

"No," said Patty, who was consumed with curiosity to know what the telegram could have meant.

"Drowning!" exclaimed Mr. Barlow, "what are you talking about? The bathing is very safe at our place; there's really no danger at all, unless one is positively foolhardy."

"No," said Patty, "but my telegram said—"

"Oh, I know," broke in Bumble. "Papa left it to me to send you word to come to-day, and I didn't get at it until it was too late to write, so I telegraphed,—and I was so afraid you wouldn't get here before the kittens were drowned, that I mentioned it to make you hurry up."

"Kittens!" exclaimed Patty, laughing, "you didn't say kittens."

"I know it, but the ten words gave out too soon. I just had room to get in that we'd meet you at five o'clock. Oh, the kittens are such dears! Two black ones and a white one and a spotted one—The white one is the prettiest, but she's an idiot, poor thing."

Cousin Tom was relieved to learn that no human beings were in jeopardy of their lives, but he secretly thought that Patty's new home was to be among very erratic people.

He bade his small cousin good-bye with real regret, for he and Patty had become firm friends during her Boston visit. After Mr. Fleming had left them, Mr. Barlow picked up all his bundles and packages, and telling the three children to follow him, he stalked away at a rapid pace.

Bob took Patty's satchel and Bumble took her umbrella, then they each grasped her arm and marched her along after their father.

"You see," explained Bob, "dad walks so very fast that we have to scurry to keep him in sight. So we'll boost you along,—it'll only be a minute."

And sure enough in a moment Mr. Barlow stopped at a street-car, and turned around expecting to find the children at his elbow, and there they were. He put them on the car, jumped on himself, and they all went over to the ferry.

A ride across the East River on the ferry-boat, and then a short ride in the cars brought them to the station of Sandy Cove.

Here Mr. Barlow expected his own carriage to be awaiting them, but no carriage was in sight. As it was growing dusk, and their home was still two miles distant, this was very annoying.

"I'll walk over home, and bring the carriage back for you," volunteered

Bob; "it must be that Dil has forgotten to come for us."

"No," said his father, "you needn't do that,—we'll all jog along together and probably we'll meet Dil on the way."

"Dil is the man who takes care of our horse," said Bumble, as they walked along. "That's short for Dilatory, and we call him that 'cause he's so slow. In fact, we never know whether he's coming for us, or not."

And, apparently, this time Dilatory was not coming, for the travelers walked all the way without meeting the carriage. As they walked up the path, Patty was somewhat surprised to see that what Mr. Barlow called a cottage was in reality a large house. Wide verandas ran all the way round it on both the first and second stories, and magnificent trees waved their branches around and over it.

"This is the Hurly-Burly, Patty," said her uncle, "and if anything isn't quite in order, you must pardon it, for we're scarcely settled yet, and haven't had time to get everything to rights; and your Aunt Grace had the misfortune to sprain her ankle yesterday, so she can't attend to things as she otherwise would. But whatever you want just you come straight and tell your Uncle Teddy, and you shall have it, if it's a roc's egg."

Patty laughed, for she well knew what happened once when a roc's egg was asked for.

Then they entered the main front door, and Patty found herself in a wide hall that ran straight through the house with a door at either end.

There were large rooms on both sides of the hall, and following her uncle into one of these rooms, which was the sitting-room or general living-room of the family, Patty saw a remarkable sight. In a large armchair sat a sweet-faced lady, with an ottoman in front of her, on which her bandaged foot was resting on a pillow. She was reading a book, which she laid down as she heard people approaching, and over her head she held an open umbrella.

This was a wise precaution, for a drenching rain was pouring on the umbrella, and water dripped steadily from the ends of its ribs.

"Why, Grace," exclaimed Mr. Barlow, "what are you doing? What has happened?"

"The tank must have burst," returned his wife, placidly, "but fortunately I had this umbrella by me, so I opened it, and as you see, I am scarcely wet at all. Is this Patty? Come here, my dear. I am your Aunt Grace, your mother's sister, and I am prepared to love my little niece very much."

Patty returned very willingly her aunt's loving caress, and the two nestled together under the big umbrella, while Bob and Bumble laughed at the funny picture they made.

Uncle Ted had hastily dropped all his bundles on the hall table, and had run up-stairs to see what was the matter with the tank.

"I have a sprained ankle, Patty," said her aunt, by way of explanation of her predicament, "and I can't move a step. So I keep a cane near me to knock on the floor when I want anybody to fetch me things, but the cane got mislaid somehow, so I had this umbrella in its place. And wasn't it fortunate? For when the water began to drip down I just put up the umbrella and protected myself perfectly. The only trouble was, I couldn't close it to knock on the floor without getting myself drenched, so, as I had an interesting book I just waited patiently for somebody to come. The servants have gone on an excursion and Nan is away, too, so there was no one to knock for except old Dilatory, and he wouldn't have heard me anyway. Now, Bob, if you'll get another umbrella to hold over yourself while you move me to dryer quarters I'll be truly grateful."

"Take mine," said Patty, running to fetch it, and then she held her open umbrella over Bob while he wheeled his mother's chair across the hall and into the music-room.

Bumble moved the ottoman at the same time, and though she meant to be very careful, she bumped the wounded foot terribly when going over the door-sills, but Mrs. Barlow pretended it didn't hurt her, and thanked the children lovingly for their assistance. "Now, Bob," she said, "run and help your father, I suppose he's up in the tank-room investigating the source of that waterfall. Tell him he'd better send Dil for a plumber at once; and Bumble, you go and see if cook has returned yet, for if not, I don't know when we'll get any dinner. Patty, dear, take off your hat and jacket and then come and sit here by me, and we'll have a little talk. You remind me very much of your mother at your age. Do you remember her at all?"

"No, Aunt Grace; I wish I could, but she died when I was only three, you know. I have a beautiful picture of her."

"Have you? you must show it to me when your trunks come. You are like your mother in form and feature, and I hope your disposition is like hers. She was the loveliest woman I ever knew. So sweet and gentle, and so unselfish."

"I think you look like her picture, Aunt Grace," said Patty, gazing earnestly at her aunt.

"Oh, no, child; she was a hundred times more beautiful than I. And she was so neat and dainty, and always did the right thing at the right time. I was the harum-scarum of the family, and I'm sorry to say, my children seem to have inherited my traits of character. They are so careless, forgetful and unsystematic. But they're dear sweet children, and I hope, Patty, you will learn to love your Barlow cousins."

"I don't need to learn, Aunt Grace, I love them already. Bob is such a frank, pleasant boy, and Bumble is a dear; so witty and bright."

"Yes, they are intelligent; and if you will be patient with our shortcomings, I think we will be very happy together. And our household, at present, contains another member. Nan Allen, who is visiting here, is a neighbor of ours in Philadelphia, and though several years older than you, she is a most charming young woman, and I'm sure you will like her. Gracious! how the water is pouring down in the sitting-room yet. I wish I could get up on my feet. Run up-stairs, Patty, and find your Uncle Ted, and ask him what is to be done about it?"

Although unacquainted with the house, Patty ran up-stairs, and through various rooms, but without finding her uncle.

Anxious to do her aunt's bidding, she ran on up to the third story, and in a large attic room she found her uncle standing before a large old-fashioned bookcase, eagerly reading a volume which he held in his hands.

"What about the water, Uncle Ted?" said Patty.

"Yes,—in a minute,—I'm going to attend to it. I'm so surprised to find all these books here. We rented this cottage furnished, you know, and I haven't been up here before. I'd no idea these books were here. Yes,—I'll see about the water at once."

Patty went with her uncle to what he called the tank-room, and there Mr. Barlow discovered that the leak was in a supply pipe which could easily be shut off. This he did, and the downpour was immediately stopped, although no water could be drawn through the house until the plumbers should come and repair the pipes.

"Ted," said Mrs. Barlow, as her husband and Patty returned, "I don't believe Hopalong will be home in time to cook dinner, so suppose we have a pick-up supper? It's getting late, and Patty must be nearly starved after her journey from Boston."

"All right," said Uncle Ted, cheerily; "is there anything in the house to eat? Where's Bumble?"

"Go and hunt her up, please, and tell her I want her. And did you get the cheese and fruit as I asked you to?"

"Yes, I bought out the whole market and carried it all home with me."

"Very well, then we won't starve. Now wheel me into the dining-room and

I'll see what we have on hand."

Just then Bob and Bumble appeared, each carrying two kittens, and these four sprawling bits of animal life were deposited in Mrs. Barlow's lap, while Patty was called upon to admire them.

"They are very cunning," said she, stroking them rather gingerly, for they seemed very small and frail.

"Oh, you can't hurt them," said Bob; "see, pick 'em up this way," and he grasped one by the back of its neck and held it sprawling in the air.

"No, hold one this way," said Bumble, cuddling a little ball of fur in the palm of her hand. "But, mumsey, I'm awful hungry; aren't we going to have any dinner? Where's Hopalong?"

"She's gone on the excursion, my dear. Poor thing, she works so hard I'm glad for her to have a little outing."

"H'm, she gets one about twice a week," said Bob; "Hopalong's the cook, Patty. We call her that 'cause she isn't very lively, and she just shuffles about. But she's a good-natured old thing, and such a good cook—"

"Here, children, take this flock of cats," said Mrs. Barlow, "and we'll soon have something to eat, cook or no cook."

Bumble gathered up the kittens, beginning with the white one. "This is the idiot," she said, "but isn't it a pretty cat? You can see she's half-witted, 'cause only one eye is open, and she has such a general air of stupidity."

"She might turn out to be the smartest of the lot," said Patty.

"I wish I could keep her and see, but dad says they must all be drowned to-morrow. I neglected the last kitten I had, and didn't feed her regularly, so the poor thing died. Daddy, if you'll let me keep this one, I'll never, never forget to feed her—honest I won't. Please let me keep just this one," and Bumble rubbed the furry ball on her father's cheek.

"Well, take them away now, and we'll see about it," said her father, and Bumble danced off with the kittens feeling almost sure that she had gained her point.

Then Bob and his father moved Mrs. Barlow with her chair and footstool out to the dining-room.

"I don't know what there is, myself," she said, "but we'll forage in the sideboard and pantry and see."

The foraging resulted in a pair of cold roasted ducks, plenty of plum-cake and a cherry-pie.

"I'm sorry there isn't any bread," said Mrs. Barlow, apologetically; "I told Hopalong to order it as she went by the baker's, but I fear she forgot it."

"Never mind," said Bob, "I don't care much for bread, anyhow, do you,

Patty? Mother, here's a lot of cold potatoes. Can't you make a salad?"

"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Barlow; so the children brought the ingredients, and a fine salad was soon concocted.