Elsie and Her Namesakes

Captain Raymond kept his promise to have the Dolphin ready in good season, and all the passengers were aboard when the anchor was lifted early in the evening of the appointed day. The weather was fine, and they found the deck a delightful place for promenading or sitting at ease on the comfortable seats provided. There was much cheerful chat, sometimes mirthful, sometimes serious; there were jests and badinage, fun and frolic, especially among the children, with Cousin Ronald to help it on, and there was music – first songs, afterward hymns of praise, repetitions of passages of Scripture and prayers of thankfulness and petitions for God's protecting care. Then the little ones were sent to their nests for the night, and somewhat later the older ones retired to theirs.

Lucilla's idea of an eastward trip till out of sight of land was carried out to her satisfaction and amusement, then the Dolphin turned, passed through Long Island Sound and up the Hudson River to Crag Cottage, which they reached in safety and all in good health.

There, as always before, they had a pleasant, restful time, often enlivened by the fun Cousin Ronald's talent could make, and after a while varied by trips here and there in the yacht. Chester spent a few days there, then returned home with the understanding that he would probably be with them again before the season was over. He was missed, but with Mr. Lilburn, Captain Raymond, Dr. Harold and Walter Travilla still left, the ladies and children were not without protectors and helpers of the stronger sex.

And in a few days a glad surprise was given them all, Evelyn in especial, by the unexpected arrival of Max. He had obtained a furlough and could be with them for some weeks.

"Now I think with two ventriloquists here we shall have some fun," exclaimed Ned shortly after his brother's arrival.

"Ah, Ned, Ned, is that all you care about in seeing your only brother?" queried Max in tones of heartfelt disappointment and an expression of deep despondency.

"Oh, no, no, indeed!" cried Ned. "I'm ever so glad to have you here, Maxie, if you never do any ventriloquism at all. Please believe me."

"Well, I suppose I must, since I know you have been trained up to speak the truth," returned Max, brightening a little, "and I hope the company of your only brother may afford you some slight enjoyment, even should there be no practice of ventriloquism."

"Yes, brother, you may be sure of it," replied Ned, striving to suppress a slight sigh.

"And your brother must be allowed a good, enjoyable time with his wife, little daughter and new little nephew before we trouble him to attend to anything else," remarked Violet in an amused tone.

"And in the meantime the rest of us can, perhaps, be depended upon to entertain your young laddie, Cousin Violet," said Mr. Lilburn, with a kindly, amused look at Ned.

"I see that, as usual, you have the Dolphin lying here at your dock, father," said Max, "and I suppose that you all take occasional trips in her."

"Yes, son, and I think you will not object to accompanying us in that, will you?"

"Oh, no, sir; no, indeed; I shall be very glad to do so, as babies and all can be made as comfortable there as anywhere on land."

"By the way," said Dr. Harold, "a lady patient was telling me the other day of a visit she had paid to the village of Catskill, interested in it because of having seen Joseph Jefferson playing 'Rip Van Winkle,' and that has given me a desire to see the place."

"So you shall," said the captain; "the Dolphin can readily be persuaded to make that trip, and I presume none of our party would object to going there in her."

He sent a smiling glance around as he spoke, and it was responded to by smiles and exclamations of pleasure in the prospect.

"I don't know anything about Rip Van Winkle," said Elsie, turning toward her father. "Is it a story, papa, and will you tell me about it?"

"Yes, daughter," he replied; "it is a story and only a story; not fact at all, but seeming so real as played by Jefferson that very many people were and are greatly interested in it. Rip Van Winkle is represented as an ignorant, good-natured man, made and kept poor by love of liquor, which so soured his wife against him that she drove him out of the house. Once it was at night and in a terrible thunder storm. He goes into a steep and rocky clove in the Kaatskill Mountains, and meets with some queer, silent people, who give him drinks of liquor that put him to sleep, and he does not wake again for twenty years, and in that time he had changed from a comparatively young man to a feeble, old one with white hair and a long white beard. In the meantime his wife, thinking him dead, had married the man – Derrick by name – who had stolen his house and land. She had done it in order to keep herself and little daughter from starvation, and he was now trying to force little Meenie, Rip's daughter, to marry his nephew, Cookles, though she did not want him, as she loved another, young Hendrick, who was her playmate when they were children, but is now a sailor and away on his vessel – has been gone five years – but now he comes back just in time to put a stop to the mischief Derrick and his nephew, Cookles, are trying to do to Meenie and Gretchen in order to get full possession of the house and land. He and Rip are able to prove that those, the house and land, are not his and never were.

"So the story ends well; the scamps are defeated, and the rightful owners are happy in regaining the property and being restored to each other," concluded the captain.

"Thank you, papa," said Elsie; "it was a nice story, because it ended well."

"And wouldn't you like to see the place where all that is said to have happened?" asked Dr. Harold.

"Yes, indeed," she answered; and after a little more chat on the subject, it was decided that they would visit the village of Catskill the next day and see the very spot where all these strange events were supposed to have taken place.

"The scenery about there is said to be very fine, is it not?" asked Mr. Lilburn.

"It is," replied Captain Raymond; "and I think we who are strong enough to climb steep ascents will be well repaid for the effort. Our best plan will be to leave the yacht for a hotel, as in order to see all that is worth seeing we must spend some days in the vicinity."

"Yes," said Dr. Harold; "and the ladies and babies and our not very strong little Ned will need to stay in the village while we stronger ones climb about the cliffs."

"I think you are right in that," assented his mother. "By the way," she continued, "do you think, gentlemen, that it was quite correct for the author of the play to bring in Hudson and some of his men as taking part in causing Rip's long nap? From the accounts given of his life and death, it would seem that he was set adrift by his sailors considerably more to the north, and perished in the sea."

"That is so, mother," returned the captain; "but it is about as true as the story of Rip's long nap."

"And that couldn't be true," remarked Elsie wisely, "for nobody could live half as long as that without eating anything, could they, Uncle Harold?"

"No, certainly not," replied her uncle, smiling at the very idea. "No one but a very ignorant person could be made to believe the story true."

"Still, we can enjoy looking at the scenes of the supposed occurrences," remarked Captain Raymond. "Shall we go to-morrow?"

Every one seemed in favor of that proposition, and the next morning, the weather being favorable and the yacht in excellent condition, they started upon their trip shortly after breakfast.

Comfortable accommodations were found in the hotel at Catskill, and the ladies seemed well satisfied with what they could see and enjoy in going about the valley while the stronger members of the party should climb the steep cliffs and explore all the places where Rip was said to have wandered, and especially the spot where his very long sleep was supposed to have been taken.

The beautiful scenery of that region was greatly enjoyed by all, male and female, old and young, so all agreed in prolonging their visit to the stay of several days. Then they boarded the yacht and started for their Crag Cottage home again.

Max was very fond of his baby daughter, and when they were all comfortably established aboard the yacht he took her in his arms to pet and fondle her; but as he did so he was startled for an instant by a joyous exclamation that seemed to come from her lips, "Oh, papa, I love you, and am so glad you are here with mamma and me again." But glancing at Cousin Ronald, Max laughed and replied: "Are you, daughter? Well, I hope the time will never come when you will be other than very glad to see your father."

"Ah, that's the first talking she has done in quite a while," laughed her mother.

"Oh, was it you who made her do it, Brother Max?" asked Ned excitedly.

"No," replied Max; "I was as much surprised at the moment as anybody else. But isn't it natural that the joy of seeing her long absent father should loosen her tongue?"

"I guess it is more natural that Cousin Ronald should do it," laughed Ned. "He could, I know, and I suspect that he did."

"Do you plead guilty, Cousin Ronald?" queried Evelyn, giving him a look of amusement.

"Well, now, you should not be too curious, Cousin Eva," was the non-committal reply.

"Is she too curious?" asked Ned. "Don't you think, Cousin Ronald, that it's all right for her to want to know what has made little Mary talk so well to-night?"

"Of course it is," little Mary seemed to say. "And I hope to talk a good deal while my papa is with us."

"Yes, I hope you will," said Ned. "I think he'll help you about it. Don't you wish you'd been climbing those mountains along with him?"

"No, Uncle Ned; it was nicer to be with mamma in the village."

Ned laughed at that, and turning to the other baby, asked: "How was it with you, Ray? Didn't you want to go along with the big folks?"

"No; you ain't one of the big folks, are you?" Ray seemed to reply; and Ned colored, as there was a general laugh from those present.

"A good deal bigger and older than you are," was his rather ungracious rejoinder.

"Don't be vexed with my baby boy, little brother," said Lucilla; "you know he didn't say that of himself. Somebody put the words into his mouth, or, to speak more literally, caused them to seem to come from his tongue, though he does not know how to talk at all."

"Oh, yes, I know, and I'm not vexed with him now," said Ned. "I oughtn't be, as I'm his uncle and want him to be fond of me, as I hope he will be when he's old enough to know about such things."