Dick and Dolly

Dick and Dolly felt their admiration rising for this boy, who knew so much about climbing gourds and flowers of all sorts. It was strange that he could throw stones so straight, and also have such fine parlour manners. So very strange indeed that Dick felt he must inquire into it.

“Say,” he began; “you’re awful different out here from what you are in the parlour.”

“Sure,” returned Jack. “In parlours, with ladies, a fellow has to be polite and proper. You don’t want me to be like that out here with you, do you?”

Jack’s face expressed such a willingness to do what was required of him that Dick exclaimed hastily:

“Not on your life! But I don’t see how you manage those fine airs when you have to.”

“Pooh, it’s dead easy. Anyway, I’ve always done it. Mamma wouldn’t like it if I didn’t.”

“I s’pose we’ll have to learn,” said Dolly, sighing a little; “but don’t let’s bother about it now.”

As the afternoon wore on, and they became better acquainted, they both began to like Jack very much. He was not a strong boy, and couldn’t run or jump as they could, but he was clever at games, and could beat them easily at “knife,” or “hop-scotch,” or almost any game of muscular skill that did not call for violent exercise.

“He’s all right,” said Dick to Dolly as they sat on the veranda steps a few minutes after Jack went home. “But I hope we won’t always have to dress up, and sit in the parlour at first every time he comes.”

“Let’s ask Aunt Rachel,” said Dolly.

“Why, no,” said Miss Rachel in surprise. “Of course you won’t. To-day was his first visit, as you called on him yesterday. After this, you can go to play with each other in your every-day clothes, whenever you like.”

Dick and Dolly were satisfied with this, and gave up trying to fathom the strange requirements of etiquette at Heatherton.

CHAPTER VII

PINKIE

The days passed happily at Dana Dene.

There was so much to do, with the gardens and the chickens, and going for afternoon drives that, except on rainy days, the children were out of doors nearly all the time.

Their big boxes had arrived, and Dolly’s dolls, and Dick’s more boyish treasures, were up in the playroom, but were often neglected for open-air fun.

It had been decided by the aunties that the twins should not go to school until Fall, for the term was within a few weeks of closing, and it didn’t seem worth while to start. But they were required to practise on the piano an hour each day, and a teacher came once a week to give them lessons. The Misses Dana were fond of music, and as they thought the twins showed some talent, they insisted on its cultivation, though Dick and Dolly looked upon their practice hour as drudgery.

They always practised at the same time, if possible, in order to have their play hours together. If they had been practising duets, this plan might have been fairly agreeable to the other members of the household. But the nine-year-old twins had not yet arrived at the dignity of “pieces,” and were confined to scales and five-finger exercises.

Their scales usually started on harmonious notes, but Dolly’s little fingers flew along the keyboard so much faster than Dick’s that she usually finished her scale on the highest notes, and drummed away there until his chubby hands came up and caught her.

This, though a satisfactory plan to the performers, was far from pleasant to the sensitive ears of the Dana aunties.

Again, in case of five-finger exercises, they divided the piano fairly, and then diligently pursued their “one-and, two-and, three-and” quite irrespective of each other.

As they were careful not to infringe on one another’s territory, they saw no objection to this arrangement, and quite in despair, the aunts would close the doors of the drawing-room, where the musicians were, and retire to the farthest corners of the house.

There was, of course, great temptation for the twins to neglect their task, and chatter, but they were too conscientious for this.

Neither would have considered it honourable to remove their hands from the keys during practice hour. So the little fingers diligently worked up and down, but the counting often gave way to conversation. Instead of “one-and,” Dolly might say, in time with her counting, “Don’t you, – think the, – poles will, – come to-, – day, Dick?” And Dick would pound away, as he replied, “Yes, Pat, – said they, – sure would, – come to, – day-ay.”

Thus a staccato conversation could be kept up while the twenty stiff little fingers were acquiring proper limberness and skill.

“It’s enough to drive anybody frantic! I can’t stand it!” said Aunt Abbie, as one day she listened to the measured chatter, and its accompaniment of pounded keys that didn’t chord.

“I can’t either!” declared Aunt Rachel, “and I’ve made up my mind, Abbie, what to do. We’ll get another piano, – a second-hand one will do, – and put it up in the playroom. Then they can practise separately.”

“Ye-es,” said Miss Abbie, doubtfully; “but they wouldn’t like that. They always want to be together.”

“Well, they’ll have to stand it. It’s enough to ruin their musical ear, to hear those discords themselves.”

“That’s true. I suppose your plan is a good one.”

So a second piano was bought, and put up in the playroom, and the twins had to do their practising separately, except for a few little duet exercises, which their teacher kindly gave them. And it must be confessed they made better progress than when they combined practising and social conversation.

In addition to the hour for music, Dolly was required to spend an hour every day, sewing.

The Misses Dana believed in that old-fashioned accomplishment, and put the child through a regular course of overhanding, felling, and hemming, insisting on great neatness and accuracy of stitches.

This hour caused Dolly a great many sighs, and even a few tears. She didn’t like needlework, and it was so hard to keep her stitches even and true.

But the real hardship was that Dick didn’t have to sew also. It didn’t seem fair that she should work so hard for an hour, while he was free to play or do what he chose.

She remarked this to Aunt Rachel, who saw the justice of the argument, and thought it over.

“That’s true, in a way,” she responded. “There isn’t any occupation so necessary for a boy to learn, as for a girl to learn sewing, but I think that Dick should have a corresponding task.”

So it was arranged that for an hour every day, Dick must do work in the garden. Real work, not just fun. He was to weed both his own and Dolly’s flower-beds, and mow the grass and trim the hedges in their playground, and water the plants, if necessary; in short, do the drudgery work of the garden, while Dolly plodded along at her sewing.

This plan worked finely, and sometimes Dick had the playground in such perfect order that he could put in his hour weeding or mowing the other parts of the lawn. Aunt Rachel bought a small lawn-mower for his use, and under Pat’s instructions his hour’s hard work each day taught him much of the real science of gardening.

When the twins had been at Dana Dene a week, they had as yet made no acquaintances beside Jack Fuller. This had happened only because the ladies had not found it convenient to take the children to call elsewhere, and Dick and Dolly themselves had been so wrapped up in their gardens and other joys that they had not cared for outside companionship.

Pat had sent for extra long poles, that their playhouse might be of goodly size. When these came, and were put in place, the tent-shaped arbour was about ten feet by twenty, which was amply large for their purpose. Vines were planted at once, both seeds and cuttings, but of course it would be several weeks before the leaves would form a green roof for them.

However, the sun was not unpleasantly warm in May, and by June or July the leafy roof would be a protection.

In the meantime, Aunt Abbie, who was most ingenious, planned a cosy arrangement for them. In one corner of their playground, Michael built them a table. This had a section of a felled tree trunk for an upright, on which was placed a round top.

From the centre of the table top rose a stout, straight stick, with leather loops nailed on it at intervals. Into these loops could be thrust the handle of a very large Japanese umbrella, which, opened, made a gay and festive-looking roof, and which could be taken into the house in case of rain.

Benches and rustic chairs Michael made for them, too, and Dick helped, being allowed to use his “work-hour” for this.

As the playground achieved all these comforts, it became a most delightful place, and the children spent whole days there.

Sometimes, good-natured Hannah would bring their dinner out there, and let them eat it under the gay umbrella.

Aunt Abbie gave them a fine garden swing, as she had promised.

This was one of those wooden affairs that will hold four comfortably, but except for Jack Fuller, none but the twins had yet used it.