天下书楼
会员中心 我的书架

CHAPTER XI A NEW FRIEND

(快捷键←)[上一章]  [回目录]  [下一章](快捷键→)

'good-morrow to the day so fair,

good-morrow, sir, to you.'

one hot afternoon, when the holidays were about three weeks old, found peggy wandering disconsolately round the farmyard alone. lilian was away, spending a few days in shrewsbury with a distant cousin; father had gone to warford, and had taken bobby with him; even rollo had disappeared on some mysterious errand not entirely disconnected with bones, so the young lady was left for once to her own devices.

aunt helen had broadly hinted that an hour's practice of much-neglected pieces upon the piano in the rose parlour would be a profitable means of employing the time, and the fear lest this threat should become an actual command caused peggy to shun the neighbourhood of the house with elaborate care, and betake herself, with a selection of pets, to the barn.

but the rabbits were stupid and sleepy this afternoon. even jack, the magpie, seemed to feel the heat, and refused to amuse his young mistress, while prickles snored on in his box of hay, oblivious to all coaxings and blandishments.

[122]'bother the creatures!' said peggy at last, giving it up in despair. 'if they want to go to sleep, i suppose they must! i wonder if it would be worth while going down to the harvest field? i'm afraid david wouldn't let me drive the reaper. no, i know what i'll do.'

and she jumped up, full of a new idea which had suddenly flashed into her mind.

down the pasture she pelted, her red hat looking like a new species of poppy among the grass, and, taking a flying leap over the fence, made her way along the dusty road to a place where a large willow overhung the path.

the tree was old, so old and decayed that the upper side of the trunk had worn away altogether, leaving nothing but a hollow, crumbling shell, as rotten and dry as matchwood. into this cavity miss peggy proceeded to creep, where, concealed by the new branches which had grown from the old stump, she found she could lie at full length, quite hidden from sight, while through a hole in the bark she could obtain an excellent view of every one who passed in the road below. the first to come by was mr. griffiths, the stout old miller, mounted on his equally fat horse, the two jogging comfortably along, almost asleep in the sunshine. peggy allowed him to get well beneath her, then, taking a pebble from her pocket, she let it fall plump in the middle of his white hat. the miller sat up with a jump, and reined in the old horse, staring into the tree with such blank amazement on his rubicund countenance that peggy had to stuff her fingers into her mouth to stifle her mirth.

'shoo! hi!' cried mr. griffiths, clapping his hands.

but, like brer rabbit, peggy 'lay low and said nuffin',' and the old man rode slowly on, turning[123] round in his saddle for a last lingering look as he went.

encouraged by this success, peggy's next venture was on a pedlar, who came down the road with a pack on his back and a thick stick in his hand. i am afraid this time her stone was bigger, for it bounced with such effect on his shoulder, that he turned round with a flow of language far from elegant, shaking his fist at the tree with so much fury that peggy was in terror lest he should climb up to find the author of the assault; but he evidently thought the day too hot for such exercises, and with a final abusive epithet walked away muttering curses on all the children in creation.

'it's not safe to use stones,' thought peggy. 'they know someone must be up here to drop them. i'll try little pieces of wood instead, and then they'll think it's a bird or a squirrel.'

after that, she had excellent sport, for the women were beginning to return from warford market with their empty baskets, and she was able to cause wonder and mystification in many a rustic breast, without the slightest chance of discovery.

she was growing almost tired of the fun, when she heard a cheery whistle, and a boy of about fourteen came sauntering slowly down the road. he was rather a nice-looking boy, with merry brown eyes, a freckled nose, and frizzy chestnut hair, which stood up like a mop all over his head, and he had a particularly jolly, breezy air about him.

peggy had acquired such practice at her interesting occupation by this time that she was able to drop her piece of wood neatly down the back of his neck exactly at the moment he passed below.

'hello!' cried the boy, turning round, and flinging[124] a stone into the tree. 'a squirrel, i'll be bound! i guess it's no use you hiding 'way up there, old fellow! i'll unearth you before you're much older!' and he commenced such an onslaught of stones that, to avoid the descending shower, peggy tried to creep deeper into the hollow cavity where she was lying.

but the poor, rotten old tree could stand the strain no longer, and, with an awful crash, down came the overhanging bough, bringing peggy to the ground with a good deal more speed than elegance.

'i say! what the dickens! great scott! are you hurt?' exclaimed the boy, regarding with much astonishment the crumpled heap of sailor frock, brown curls, and splinters of willow-wood that had suddenly descended at his feet.

peggy got up, feeling tenderly at her shins, which had suffered most in the fall.

'i don't think i'm quite killed,' she replied slowly. 'but i've no doubt there'll be heaps of bruises to-morrow.'

'so you were the squirrel! it was rather a cute dodge, and well done. i guess you're something of a tomboy, young lady, aren't you?' said the boy, grinning appreciatively.

'no, i'm not,' said peggy, indignant at the old reproach; 'i'm only fond of a little fun. i know who you are. you're the boy who's staying with miss forster at the willows. i saw you in church on sunday;' and she nodded convincingly.

'why, i believe i saw you, too! you dropped your collection money, and made a rabbit out of your pocket-handkerchief,' chuckling at the remembrance.

'aren't you miss forster's nephew? what's your name? why have you never been to gorswen before?[125] where is your home?' asked peggy, wondering at his slight american accent.

the boy whistled.

'whew! what a catechism! my name's archie, if you want to know, and my godfathers and godmother gave it to me at my baptism. yes, miss forster is my aunt, and i haven't been to gorswen before, because i was raised in colorado, and that's a little too far for chance visits; but i'm going to locate here now most of the time, i guess. is there anything else you would like to ask?'

and the brown eyes looked at her quizzically.

'yes, i should,' admitted peggy frankly. 'i want to know what you're doing in the corner of miss forster's garden. i can hear you sawing and hammering there every morning.'

'i wonder you don't come to see!'

'well, i would if anyone invited me!'

the boy laughed.

'all right!' he said good-naturedly. 'come along now, and i'll show you, if you like. if we cut over the hedge here we can drop straight down into the garden without going round by the road. i guess a girl who can climb a tree to play squirrel won't shy at a fence. eh, miss tomboy?'

peggy replied by lightly vaulting over the obstacle, and following her new friend with much promptitude, giving him a condensed history of herself and family as she ran to keep up with his long strides.

'here we are!' cried the boy, jumping over the little stream that bounded the willows garden, and watching peggy's heroic leap after with an eye of secret approval. 'there, now, if you want to see what i have been doing, you can!'

he put his hands in his pockets, and whistled care[126]lessly, but it was evident, all the same, that he was pleased to show off his handiwork, even to a little girl. peggy gave a gasp of astonishment and delight, for by the side of the stream was fixed the prettiest little miniature water-wheel, which was turning round as merrily as the miller's own.

'oh, how lovely!' she cried. 'you don't mean to say you made that yourself?'

for the efforts of joe and bobby at carpentry were generally of a very rough description.

'of course i did. do you reckon i'd get the village joiner to fix it? precious much good he'd be at a job like this, the clumsy old idiot! but the wheel's nothing. come over here, and you'll see what it turns!'

'a grindstone! how splendid! why, it's going round ever so fast when you put on that catch!'

'i can grind your pen-knife for you, if you like,' suggested archie magnanimously. 'i'd admire to do it.'

'haven't got one,' said peggy sadly. 'i lost mine out of my pocket the other day, when i fell into the stream.'

'ah! girls have such stupid pockets, they never can keep anything in them. never mind, perhaps this will be more in your line;' and lifting up a lid, he showed a tiny churn, calculated to fill the feminine soul with rapture.

'you could put some cream in that, and make enough butter for your tea,' he said, when peggy had exhausted her list of admiring adjectives. 'i'll let you do it some time, if you want. but if you like the churn, what do you think of this, now?' and, stooping forward, he moved a switch, and the strains of a little musical-box were heard playing 'the last rose of summer' with wonderfully correct time and tune.

[127]'you'll never persuade me you made that, too!' cried peggy, turning upon him with wide-open eyes.

'indeed i did!' laughed archie. 'oh, it's not so difficult, after all. see, i'll show it to you. it's only made with pins set round in a circle on a piece of board, with a nail on a pivot in the centre to revolve round and strike them. the hard part of it was to set the pins just right. you see, the shortness or longness of them makes the difference in the notes, and the distance between gives the time. it took me a jolly long while to puzzle it all out, i can tell you!'

'i think you're a genius!' declared peggy, who was absolutely steeped in admiration.

'why, no!' said the boy. 'but i reckon to go in for engineering some time, so it's all practice, you see. when i can get some more tools and things i want to set up a hydraulic pump to water the garden. i believe i could put electric light all over the house, if aunt would only let me try.'

'i'm afraid you might blow us all up, my dear boy!' exclaimed the pleasant voice of miss forster, who had joined them unobserved. 'so you have been making peggy's acquaintance? she had better stay to tea, now she is here. i will send a message up to the abbey to say we are keeping her.'

peggy beamed with delight, for she wanted to see more of archie's wonderful work, and also the cakes and jam at the willows had a reputation for excellence quite unsurpassed in the neighbourhood.

miss forster was a little elderly lady, with a neat, bird-like appearance, and a brisk, cheerful manner, who seemed to match the prim, square house with its green door and brass knocker, and white sun-blinds over the windows. everything about the place was kept in the most exquisite order—never a weed on the[128] paths nor a daisy on the lawns—while indoors the old-fashioned rooms were the very perfection of neatness, and the polish on the chippendale furniture was a thing to wonder at.

when miss forster had adopted her brother's youngest boy from colorado, her neighbours held up their hands in amazement, and suggested that one of her london nieces would have proved a far more satisfactory companion. but miss forster herself thought otherwise.

'my nieces are dear girls,' she said, 'but they take all i say for gospel, and have not an original idea among them. i want some fresh young life in the place, to keep me from quite stagnating. archie brings a breath of the new world with him, and outside interests which i hope may prevent me from falling into the narrow rut that is so often the fate of elderly spinsters in retired villages. it is quite possible that he may upset the house in some slight degree, but on the whole it is good for me to have my little ways interfered with. one is apt to get into the habit of thinking that the set of a curtain, or a speck of dust on the mirror, are of more importance than the affairs of the universe.'

since his arrival, archie had certainly done his best to preserve his aunt from any danger of stagnation, for his fertile brain kept her in a perpetual tremor as to what the 'dear boy' would do next.

'we work everything by machinery out in america, you know, aunt,' he explained. 'and it feels just terribly behind the times to come home and find you jogging on in the same hum-drum way this old country has done since the conquest. i guess if you could come out to colorado, you'd get an eye-opener!'

miss forster opened her eyes wide enough, as it was,[129] to see a neat telephone, made of two empty cocoa-tins and a piece of waxed string, fixed up between the house and the stables, while a small windmill on the scullery roof turned the coffee-grinder in the kitchen, to the huge amazement and delight of the cook. she had gasped a little at the incubator, made of an old biscuit-tin, and placed on the greenhouse pipes.

'would not a good sitting hen be really better, my dear boy?' she suggested mildly. 'i don't see what you are going to do with the young chicks when you hatch them out.'

'oh, i'll have fixed up a foster-mother before the three weeks are up,' said archie. 'i'm lining a shallow box with plaster of paris, and sticking it full of feathers while it's wet. then, if i keep it on the hot pipes, it will feel for all the world like an old hen, and i don't believe there'll be a chick that'll find out the difference!'

there seemed to be no end to master archie's wonderful inventions. the boy had a great talent for mechanics, and was very painstaking in carrying out all the minute details of his work. most of his schemes were really of use in the household, though occasionally some of them were not attended with quite the success they deserved. he had hung the great dinner-bell in the cherry-tree, and fastened a string from it to his bed-post, so that he might scare the birds from the fruit in the early morning; but unfortunately he had flung out his arms in his sleep and set the bell ringing soon after midnight, bringing the neighbours hurrying up to the willows, thinking it was an alarm of fire. he had manufactured a marvellous hat-grip, warranted to defy the windiest of weather, and presented it to the housemaid; but when the poor girl tried to take off her sunday hat, she found it so tightly fixed[130] to her hair that it took the combined efforts of the other servants, aided by the liberal use of a pair of scissors, to remove the construction from her head. he had fixed a fire-escape to the landing window, and nearly killed the trusting parlour-maid by letting her down in a blanket 'just for practice,' while the cook was soaked through in a sudden application of the hose-pipe to quench imaginary flames in the region of the back-kitchen.

but i think the crowning achievement was an automatic currying-brush, which was to be wound up and fixed on to the horse's back, and was to do the work 'in just half the time old fleming takes pottering over it.'

'don't ee, now, master archie—don't ee, now!' remonstrated the poor old coachman, with dismay in his soul. 'horses is kittle cattle, and it aren't right to play no tricks with 'em!'

'don't you be alarmed, fleming. i guess captain will like it just first-rate. he'll find it sort of soothing, and it'll put such a gloss on him you'll be able to see your face in his coat. if it works all right, i'll rig up an arrangement to milk the cows next.'

and the confident inventor wound up his little machine, and started it on captain's fat back. but the old horse would have nothing to say to such a newfangled contrivance, and, with a snort of alarm, had nearly kicked through the side of his stall, sending the currying-brush flying in one direction and master archie head over heels in another.

'i reckon he's rather too old to catch on to it,' said the boy, determined not to own himself beaten, as he picked up the ruins of his clock-work. 'it would be best to start on a colt, and put it in as part of the training. never mind, i can use the wheels to make[131] an alarum, and fix it up in the harness-room, to go off at any time you like, fleming!'

but fleming showed such a rooted distrust for anything that was intended to 'go off,' and, indeed, such absolute abhorrence of any further mechanical contrivance in the vicinity of the stables, that archie had transferred his attentions to the garden, where he was full of a scheme for utilizing the water power of the little stream to irrigate the soil, after the fashion of the nile in egypt, in a series of canals between the beds, and had already made the hose-pipe work with capital effect by means of a siphon and an old barrel.

this was a form of amusement which appealed far more to miss forster's mind, for her flowers suffered much from drought in summer time, and she was a keen competitor at the local horticultural shows, exhibiting some of the largest carnations and the roundest dahlias in the neighbourhood. so she watched with delight the growth of the hydraulic pump, groaning a little over the dirty boots and muddied clothes that ensued, but assuring her friends that the 'dear boy' was a perfect genius, and would make his mark in the world, and relating the story of his achievements with most unbounded pride and satisfaction.

先看到这(加入书签) | 推荐本书 | 打开书架 | 返回首页 | 返回书页 | 错误报告 | 返回顶部