Hill Grace Brooks - The Corner House Girls on a Tour

Hill Grace Brooks The Corner House Girls on a Tour / Where they went, what they saw, and what they found

CHAPTER I A RED LETTER DAY INDEED

The four Kenway girls had the room all to themselves at this early hour on Saturday morning, for Mrs. MacCall and Aunt Sarah Maltby had not yet come downstairs, while Linda, the maid, had deserted the kitchen and pantry altogether for the time being.

Ruth, the eldest and most sedate of the sisters, was filling sandwiches at the dresser and such a variety as there was of them!

Chicken, with mayonnaise and a lettuce leaf; pink ham cut thin and decorated with little golden dabs of mustard; peanut butter sandwiches; nut and cheese sandwiches, the filling nestling in a salad leaf, too; tuna fish, with narrow slices of red, red Spanish peppers decorating it; and of course sardines, carefully split and laid between soda crackers. What picnic lunch would be complete without sardines?

Agnes, the next oldest to Ruth and the beauty of the family, was slicing bread as exactly as though it were a problem in geometry and in such quantity that Tess declared it looked as though they were to feed an army.

Tess herself was seriously attending to the boiling of two dozen eggs in a big saucepan.

Though why you need to watch em so closely I cant see, complained Agnes. There are other things you might be doing when there is so much to do goodness knows! Those eggs wont get away.

No, joined in Dot, the youngest of the Corner House girls, and quite seriously, too. No. It isnt like boiling lobsters.

Right, Dottums, chuckled Agnes, recovering from her vexation immediately. Eggs are an entirely different kind of shellfish.

Well, said the little girl, explaining, Mrs. Adams boiled some raw lobsters the other day, and one hopped right out of the pot on to the floor and started for the door it really did!

Oo-ee! gasped Tess, attracted for a moment from the bobbing eggs by this statement. The poor thing!

Whos a poor thing Mrs. Adams? asked Ruth, laughing gayly.

Why, no, said Tess, who was nothing if not tender-hearted. The lobster.

Goodness! exclaimed Agnes. Do you spose it hurts a lobster to be boiled?

Why doesnt it? demanded Tess, promptly.

Cause it has a shell, ventured Dot.

Why because they always do boil them, said Agnes, rather at a loss for an answer to Tess question.

Sometimes they broil them, said the oldest sister, smiling.

Well, theyre used to it, anyway, declared Agnes, with conviction.

I I dont believe anybody could get used to being boiled, observed Tess, slowly. Look at Sammy Pinkney.

Where? demanded Agnes, jumping. I hope that horrid child isnt coming over so early. I hoped wed get away without having him around.

Oh, my! murmured Dot. You know hes just got over the scarlet fever.

But he hasnt got over being a nuisance, declared the older girl.

I didnt mean that Sammy was really here to look at, explained the serious Tess. I meant I meant

Well, what did you mean? asked Agnes, who was inclined to be impatient.

She meant, consider Sammy, didnt you, Tessie? suggested Ruth, kindly.

Why yes.

Oh! Were you taking him for an example? cried Agnes. But Sammy hasnt ever been boiled although maybe he ought to have been.

No; he hasnt been boiled, said the serious Tess, still watching the eggs bobbing in the boiling water. But hes punished lots of times at school, I mean. And he doesnt seem to get used to it. He hollers just as loud now as the first time I ever heard him.

Did the lobster holler? chuckled Agnes. Did it, Dot?

But Dot who was not allowed to mess in with the lunch had found another subject for consideration. She had been looking at Ruth, dexterously opening a second can of sardines. Now, when the cover was laid back and the oil drained off, the smallest girl pointed a dimpled finger at the contents of the can.

Whats the matter, honey? asked Ruth, smiling down at the serious face of the fairy-like Dot. What is it?

Why, Ruthie, said Dot, wonderingly, I was only thinking if that middle fish wanted to turn over,

what a lot of trouble it would have!

Amid the laughter of the two older girls at this, the door banged open and a boy with a mop of flaxen hair a regular whitehead and a football cut at that burst into the room.

My goodness me, girls! arent you ready yet? he demanded. And its half-past seven.

The eggs are, Tess declared, the first to speak, for she had not been laughing.

Well, then, said the boy, you and I, Tess, will just take the eggs and go.

Whats the matter, Neale ONeil? Wont your horse stand? drawled Agnes, tossing her head.

We would have been ready long ago if it had not been for you, Neale, said Ruth, promptly.

Hows that? Ive been up since five. And the cars right here at the side gate. Cracky! its a scrumptious auto, girls. I dont believe there ever was a finer.

When our Mr. Howbridge does anything, he always does it right, proclaimed Tess, giving up the guardianship of the eggs to Ruth. And Mr. Howbridge had the car built for us.

But we wouldnt ever have had it, put in Dot, eager to tell all she knew, if Mrs. Eland and Miss Pepperill hadnt given us the money cause we found their Uncle Lemon Adens money.