Dick and Dolly

“No, I guess it’ll be addressed to Aunt Rachel, or maybe to us. What does Dene mean, auntie?”

“Dene?”

“Yes, Dana Dene, you know?”

“Why, Dana Dene is the name of our place, you know. Not only the house, but the whole estate.”

“Yes’m; I know it. But what does Dene mean? Just as a word?”

“Oh, well, it doesn’t mean anything nowadays, just as a word. But in old times, long ago, it meant den or cave.”

“Well, this house isn’t a cave.”

“No,” said Miss Rachel, laughing. “We’re not cave-dwellers. But long ago, there was another house where this stands now. You know, this estate has been in our family for many generations.”

“And was the other house a cave?” asked Dick, with vague visions of primitive ancestors floating through his mind.

“No, of course not! The name cave came from the fact that there was a deep den or cave somewhere on the place.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know, Dicky. It may be only tradition, or there may have been a real cave, now filled up or covered over. I suppose it is in the woodland part, if it’s anywhere.”

“But it must be somewhere, Aunt Rachel,” persisted Dick. “If they, my great-grand-fathers, I mean, named the place Dana Dene because of a big den, the den must be here yet.”

“Well, perhaps it is, child, but it hasn’t been seen or heard of for many years, anyway. You may hunt for it, if you like, but I doubt if you’ll find it.”

“Come on Dollums,” cried Dick, jumping up. “Let’s go and look for it. It would be lots of fun if we could find it in time for the party!”

“Indeed it would not!” returned their aunt. “Find it if you want to, but don’t play in it on the day of the party. I’d like you to keep yourselves tidy on that occasion, and not go burrowing in caves. But I’ve no idea you’ll find it. For, a cave that hasn’t been used for over a hundred years, is likely to be filled up with earth and leaves. It has, probably, entirely disappeared.”

“Well, we’ll have the fun of hunting,” said Dick, and away went the twins on their new quest.

Michael and Pat were first interviewed.

“Did you ever see a cave or a den anywhere about the place?” they inquired.

“Cave, is it?” said Michael. “Faith an’ I didn’t. Whativer are yez up to now?”

“Oh, think!” cried Dick, impatiently. “Didn’t you see one, Pat, when you were mowing the grass, or anything like that? Digging, you know.”

“I did not. There’s no cave around these diggin’s, unless so be it’s in the woods. There may be a dozen caves in thim six acres of woodland.”

The twins were disappointed. It seemed a forlorn hope to try to investigate six acres of doubtful territory.

“But do yez go and look,” said Michael. “It’s jist what ye need to use up yer extry energy. Yer so cockylorum about yer party, that ye need a scape valve fer yer overflowin’ sperrits. Go, now, an’ hunt yer cave.”

“Come on, Dolly,” said Dick. “We can’t do anything for the party, there’s nothing for us to do. So we may as well go to the woods.”

“All right. I’d just as lieve go, and if the cave is there, I should think we’d see it.”

“Av coorse ye will,” said Michael, grinning. “First, ye’ll see a signboard, wid a finger pointien’ ‘This way to the Big Cave,’ thin ye go right along to the entrance.”

“An’ pay yer quarter to the gateman, an’ walk in,” supplemented Pat.

The twins never minded the good-natured chaff of these two Irishmen, and they only laughed, as hand in hand they trotted away.

They had been often to the wood, but heretofore they had noticed only the trees and the stones and the low-growing vegetation. Now they carefully examined the formation of the ground, and any suspicious-looking hollow or mound.

“Maybe it was a smuggler’s cave,” said Dick, “and in it perhaps are lots of things they smuggled and hid away.”

“Yes, I s’pect so,” said Dolly, who was of an amiable nature, and quite willing to agree with Dick’s opinions, whenever she had no knowledge to the contrary.

“Or maybe it’s a fairy cave,” she added. “That would be more likely, ’cause I think these are awful fairyish woods.”

“Why do you? You’ve never seen a fairy in ’em.”

“No, but I ’most have. I’ve seen lots of places where they come out and dance at night. Pinkie shows ’em to me.”

“Pooh, she doesn’t know for sure.”

“No, not for sure. Nobody does. But she says most prob’ly that’s where they dance. Do fairies ever live in caves, Dick?”

“Not ’zactly fairies. But dwarfs do, and gnomes and things like that?”

“Sprites?”

“Yes, I guess so. And brownies, – real brownies, I mean; not the picture-book kind. Hello, Doll, here’s a place that looks cavy!”

Dick paused before a rough mass of soil and stones and mossy overgrowth, that did seem to bear some resemblance to the blocked-up mouth of a cave.

But it was just as much like a mere natural formation of ground, and after digging and poking around with sticks, the children concluded it was not a cave, after all.

“Oh, pshaw, we’ll never find a real cave, Dick; let’s go home. I’m getting hungry.”

“So’m I. We can come back and hunt some other time. Aunt Rachel wouldn’t let us play in it on party day, anyway.”

So back they went, and no one seemed surprised that they hadn’t discovered a long-forgotten cave, perhaps full of hidden treasure.

The day before the party, Aunt Rachel and Aunt Abbie drove to town to order the feast from the caterer’s.

The twins accompanied them, for the selection of the goodies was to be partly left to their choice.

The caterer’s was a fascinating place, and Dick and Dolly exercised great care and discretion in choosing the prettiest forms for the ices, and the loveliest kinds of little fancy cakes, and the gayest sort of snapping crackers.

The sandwiches and lemonade would be made at home, but all the rest of the feast must be ordered, and Dick and Dolly were overwhelmed with delight, as the aunties kept on adding bonbons, fruits, nuts, and all sorts of delectable things to the long list.

“We never had such lovely parties at Auntie Helen’s,” said Dick, reminiscently, as they drove home.