Vacation with the Tucker Twins

"You is quite exactitude in yo' statement, Miss Dum," said Blanche, appearing in the kitchen door, where she had overheard all of Mrs. Rand's not too complimentary remarks. "I is not been the instructive mimber of the household, and what brokerage has been committed has been performed by you young ladies or yo' papa. I is fractured but one object since I engaged in domestic disuetude and that was a cup without no saucer, and before Gawd it was cracked whin I come."

Blanche no longer looked the mild and peaceful character we had found her to be. Her pleasant gingerbread coloured face was purple with rage, and one of her pigtails, usually tightly wrapped, had come unbound and was standing up in a great woolly bush on the top of her head, giving her very much the appearance of a Zulu warrior in battle regalia. A rolling pin in one hand and a batter cake turner in the other added to her warlike aspect.

"I never seed a nigger yet that didn't say everything she broke was cracked when she come," sniffed Mrs. Rand scornfully.

"Blanche is quite right!" exclaimed Dum. "The cup she broke was cracked, because I cracked it myself. I cracked the cup and broke the saucer the first night at the beach, didn't I, Dee?"

"No, you didn't. I did it myself," said Dee.

"Well, hoity-toity! It looks like you both think you done something fine to bust up the chiny," and Mrs. Rand smiled grimly as she gave an extra twist to her Mrs. Wiggs knot and got out of her capacious pocket a huge pair of brass-rimmed spectacles. "Come on, now, and go over this here inventory. Business is business, and if the chiny is busted, no matter who done it, it is the business of the renters to make good. I ain't a-saying the nigger done it, but I'm a-saying if'n she didn't, she's the fust nigger I ever seed that didn't behave like a bull in a chiny shop, bustin' and breakin' wherever she trod."

But Blanche had not had her say out and she took up the ball and continued:

"I is large, 'tis true, but I is light to locomotion, and brokerage is never been one of my failures. My kitchen is open fer yo' conception at any time, Miss Dee. You kin bring in the rent woman when it suits yo' invention," and with a bow that took in all of us and left out Mrs. Rand, Blanche retired to her domain and lifted up her voice in a doleful hymn.

Everything in the cottage was carefully checked off, living room first and then the sleeping porches. We were thankful indeed that we had cleaned up so well and had all of our accumulated mess out of the way. The old woman complimented us on the appearance of everything. She was not at all an unkind person, except where coloured people were concerned. She seemed to take a motherly interest in us and highly approved of Zebedee.

"Well, you gals is sho' kept my house nice and I must say it is some surprise to me. You look like such harum-scarums that I was fearing you would be worser tenants than them boys – Land sakes, if'n the tick covers ain't clean enough ter use agin. I always changes 'em fer a new tenant, but looks like it would be foolishness to take off perfectly clean things, 'thout spot or speck on 'em. Of course, I'll take off the nigger's tick."

Every time Mrs. Rand said nigger it made me wince. Mammy Susan had brought me up to think that that was a word not to be used in polite society or anywhere else.

"Niggers is the onliest ones what kin say nigger," she used to tell me. "Whin white folks says niggers they is demeaning of themselves, an' they is also paintin' of the nigger blacker than his Maker done see fit to make him."

Blanche's room was in perfect order and I wondered if Mrs. Rand would not give her some praise, but that stern person only sniffed and passed on.

Dishes were next on the list and we ticketed them off easily. Four cups were broken, three saucers and a plate and six water glasses, about a dollar's worth in all, as the china and glass were of the plainest. Then came the kitchen and cooking utensils. We hoped Blanche would go out, but she stood to her guns bravely and refused to desert the ship. Mrs. Rand poked her nose into every crack and crevice and seemed to be hunting dirt which she could not discover. The tins were counted and found O. K.; and then the kitchen spoons and forks were as carefully gone over as though they had been of the finest silver. One iron spoon was worn on the edges and a little bent from the vigorous beating and stirring the batter bread had undergone, and the strictly business Mrs. Rand looked at it dubiously, but finally let it pass along with the "sheep," although her expression was very much what Peter's might be if a goat had butt his way into Paradise.

"Where's that there can-opener, a perfectly good one that I bought from a peddler? I wouldn't lose it for a pretty! I never seed one like it before and the man I bought it from said he was the sole agent for it and mor'n likely would not be back this way for years to come," and Mrs. Rand rummaged in the table drawer like some lady who feared she had lost some precious jewel.

Blanche stood back abashed and was silent, and Tweedles and I looked at one another guiltily.

"Why don't you speak up, girl? You needn't think you can get off with my can-opener, 'cause you can't." Still Blanche held to the policy of the Tar Baby and said nothing, and Tweedles and I were as dumb as fish. "It was one of these here combination implements, a cork-screw and can-opener, beer-opener and knife-sharpener, with a potato-parer at one end and apple-corer at the other, and in the middle a nutmeg-grater. I never seen a finer thing, and besides it had a attachment fer the slicin' of Sarytogy chips."

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Rand, but your can-opener is – is – lost," said Dee. "Blanche is not responsible for it, as she had nothing to do with it. Here is a very good can-opener, however, that our father brought back from Norfolk," and she took from its accustomed nail a sturdy little affair of the old-fashioned kind, meant to open cans and to do nothing but open cans, and in consequence one that did open cans. "Here is a cork-screw, and here is a nutmeg-grater! We never did know what all the other parts of the thing were meant for or I am sure my father would have got those, too, as he did not wish to defraud you in any way."

"You talk like that there so-called paw of yours had lost it, and I believe you is just trying to shield this nigger. I never seed a nigger yet who had the gumption to use one of these here labor-saving devices."

The purple colour again rose in Blanche's dusky countenance and the tuft of unwrapped wool began to shake ominously, but still she held her peace, showing that she was a lady at heart. She knew as well as we did what had become of the prized and priceless implement, but her loyalty made her keep silence.

The situation was tense and the irate owner looked from one to another of our solemn countenances, trying to solve the riddle of the lost can-opener. Annie and Mary had come to the kitchen door, Annie with her nose not much the worse for the blow, but with her pretty face very pale from the loss of blood, Mary with the whimsical expression that she always wore when she was taking mental notes of anyone whom she intended to imitate later on.

We all of us could recall with the keenest delight the memorable evening when Zebedee undertook to open the sardines at a beach party we were having and his scornful remarks anent our can-opener.

"Look at this thing!" he had said indignantly. "Pretends to do so much and can't do a single thing right! Broke the cork in the olive bottle! Won't cut anything but a little round, jagged hole in this square can of sardines! I have cut a biscuit out of my hand with this butt end that is meant for the Lord knows what!" (That must have been the end that was meant for an apple-corer.) He continued, "If it's the last act of my life, I intend to take this abomination out in the bay and drop it down ten fathoms deep."

He was as good as his word, and the very next morning when we went out for our usual before-breakfast dip, Zebedee appeared with the can-opener in his mouth (to leave his hands free for swimming) and with strong, rapid strokes shot out far into the bay, there to consign the hated abomination to its watery grave.

And now what was to be said to Mrs. Rand? It wouldn't do to stand like Patience on a monument smiling at Grief, indefinitely. We looked to Dee, our social deliverer, to save us, and I only hoped that Mary and I would not disgrace the crowd by going off into our usual giggles.

"As I said before, Mrs. Rand, it is lost and we are as sorry as can be. I will either reimburse you for your property or I'll send you another from Richmond." We were mighty proud of Dee, her reimburse sounded so grown-up and business-like, but Mrs. Rand seemed not one whit impressed.

"How kin you git something when they ain't no more of them, and how kin you pay fer something when it is valued for its bein' so useful and so rare? I wouldn't a lef' it here if'n I hadn't 'a' thought you was all girls and had been raised proper, not to lose or break other folkses' things."

"Well then, Mrs. Rand, all I can say is that we are sorry, and if you will make out a receipted bill for the china and glass that is broken, we will pay you immediately and wish you good-morning, as we have a great deal to do on this our last day at the beach." Dee's dignity was wonderful. How often I have seen her father behave in exactly that way: do all he could to keep the peace, exercise all his tact to smooth things over and, that failing, take on a dignity and a toploftical manner that would reduce the offender to pulp.

"Well, now, you needn't get so huffy about it! Business is just business – "

"Exactly, so please make out the receipted bill and let us pay you what we owe you."

"Well, I never said I was goin' to charge you fer those few bits of broken chiny. I reckon I kin make my fifteen per cent. off my investment, anyhow," and the old woman gave her rare snaggle-toothed grin. "I'll give it to you that you is leaving my house as clean as you found it, and that's something I can't say of most tenants."

"Cleaner!" muttered Blanche, but if Mrs. Rand heard, she pretended not to. Dee's grande dame manner had had its effect and she now treated us with great cordiality, shaking hands and expressing a wish to see all of us again at the beach and complimenting us again and again on the neatness of the cottage. She sent messages to "that so-called paw" and was almost genial as she bade us good-bye.

Mary and I managed to wait until she got away before we were shaken by the inevitable storm of giggles. "All of that row about an old can-opener," gasped Mary, "and after all it was a can't-opener."

CHAPTER XXII

GOOD-BYE TO THE BEACH

How we did hate to say good-bye to Willoughby! When I remembered my feelings on our arrival and compared them to my feelings on departure, I could hardly believe I was the same person or that it was the same place. I no longer missed trees and grass; my eyes were accustomed to the glare; and as for the dead monotony of sand and water: I had learned to see infinite variety in the colour of the land and sea; no two days had been alike, no two hours, indeed. Dum had taught me to see these shifting effects, and now land and water and sky instead of seeming as they had at first, like three hard notes that always played the same singsong tune, were turned into three majestic chords that with changing and intermingling could run the whole gamut of harmony.

We had spent a perfect month with so little friction that it was not worth naming, and the friendship of the five girls was stronger than ever. It would be impossible to sleep five on a porch, with cots so close together that the covers had no room to slip between, without finding out each other's faults and virtues.

Dee, for instance, who was an exceptionally rapid dresser, had a habit of using more than her share of hair-pins. She always insisted that they were hers or that she had not used them, and she would not take down her hair to see. Then when she finally undressed at night and plaited her thick, blue-black rope, she would be much abashed as we claimed our share of hair-pins.

Mary Flannagan snored louder and more persistently than anyone I have ever known; she also had a habit of talking in her sleep.

Annie Pore did take a little longer to arrange her ripe-wheat hair than was quite fair where there was only one mirror and four other girls trying to beautify themselves in front of it, but there is no telling how long any of us would have taken to prink had we been as pretty as Annie.

Dum's fault was putting on anybody's and everybody's clothes, especially stockings, and then wild horses could not drag them off her when once she had them on. She had a habit of undressing and throwing her clothes on top of other people's. No matter where you put your clothes or how carefully you folded them, you were sure to find something of Dum's on top of them in the morning. I was careless enough myself, so this did not bother me much, but it was a continual irritation to Dee, who was much more orderly than Dum; and poor little Annie suffered greatly from this habit of dear old Dum's. Annie had very few clothes and she was painfully neat and careful with them, and I have seen her turn away her head to hide her emotion when she found Dum's wet stockings, that she had been clamming in the day before, balled up on top of her clean shirt waist, and her muddy shoes resting fondly in the lap of her, Annie's, last fresh white skirt.

I know I had many faults as a room-mate, but I believe my habit of selfishly hogging the bathroom was the worst. I think people born and brought up without plumbing are always piggy about bath tubs when once they come in contact with them. I was irreverent enough to wish with all my heart that Mr. Pore had my grandfather's hat-tub and that Bracken, my beloved home, could have water put into it with an altogether, all-over, all-at-once bath tub.

One last look through all the dressing rooms and porches, to be sure that we were not leaving any valuables for the next tenants to find, a lingering glance at the quiet, peaceful living-room where we had spent so many delightful hours, and we went out of the front door as Mrs. Rand came in the back, pail and broom in hand, to make ready for the incoming hordes.

"She won't find no use in that there kitchen fer buckets an' brooms. It's clean enough to ask any potentiate of Europe to eat off'n any spot in it. The King of France himself could make no claimant of the perdition of my kitchen," and Blanche's countenance began to take on the purple hue of rage.

"Oh, don't mind her, Blanche! She just likes for a new tenant to find her busy. Here come the new tenants, too! Isn't it a good thing we got out so early in the morning?"

Sure enough, as Dee spoke there loomed on the horizon a large family, coming to take possession of the cottage: a mother and father, four boys, two little girls, two young coloured maids and an old mammy carrying a baby. The last sound we heard as we hurried to catch the trolley was Mrs. Rand berating them for coming so early in the morning before she had time to clean up after the last tenants.

"Of course I know it is the fust of August, but the fust of August don't mean the fust thing in the morning. Tenants is all alike, skeered to death for fear they ain't going to git all that's coming to them. I never understood when you come dickerin' for my house that you had three niggers. I ain't partial to rentin' to folks that keeps nigger help. Now these last folks what jest left didn't keep but one nigger, but – " but what, we never knew, as we got out of earshot. Blanche's countenance lost its purple hue as we settled ourselves on the Norfolk trolley. We hoped that Mrs. Rand would realize that to make fifteen per cent. on an investment means one must be willing to put up with many things.

The boys who had been at the camp met us in Norfolk and engineered us to the pier to see Annie and Mary off on the James River boat, and then took Tweedles and me to the station and put us on the train for Richmond.

At the boat Sleepy shook hands with Annie until I really thought the Captain would have to interfere. With his face a fiery red, I heard him implore her to write to him. I don't know what she said, but I can't fancy Annie in an adamant mood, and as I saw Sleepy give her his card and hastily write something in a memorandum book, I have an idea she granted his request.

Wink's moustache was getting quite bushy, but his manner was still grand, gloomy and peculiar. He would walk by me, but would not talk to me, although I made every effort to make myself agreeable. He tugged viciously at his little moustache until I felt like telling him: "Kill it, but don't worry it to death!"