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Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 17, April 26, 1914

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Дата написания1970-01-01

Язык книгиen

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зарубежные детские книги зарубежная классика зарубежная старинная литература детские журналы

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THE FIVE CASTAWAYS. BY COE HAYNE

When Lena Stuart sprained her ankle the doctor told her that she could not walk on it for at least ten days.

"Just think, mamma, ten whole days!" she cried in despair.

"But the time will pass quickly if you make up your mind to be cheerful," said Mother Stuart.

"But I cannot go to the picnic to-morrow," said Lena sadly. "And just think! it was a picnic that I helped to plan for."

"But you can watch the children as they play their games on the island," said Mother Stuart.

"Why, sure enough!" exclaimed Lena. "I can see them as they cross in Cousin Rob's boat, right from our front windows. I hadn't thought of that."

Just then a fine black spaniel ran up to Lena and pushed his nose against her hand.

"And I have you, Waggy, to keep me company," said Lena more cheerfully as she stroked the silky ears of the dog. "And, mamma, isn't it lucky that I taught Waggy to go to the post office for the mail and to the market for meat?"

"Very lucky for me," laughed Mother Stuart. "That will save me a few extra steps."

Waggy had learned his lessons well. When he went to the meat market he always carried a covered tin pail in which to carry home the meat, and when he went to the post office, he was given a big leather wallet in which to carry the letters.

The following afternoon Mrs. Stuart had an engagement with her dentist and was compelled to leave Lena alone with Waggy. A kind neighbor had lent Lena a wheel-chair so that she could travel from one part of the house to the other. At two o'clock she began to watch for the picnickers and at last saw them—five in all—run down the hill and get into her Cousin Rob's boat and row out to the pretty island in the middle of the river. Everyone knew that Cousin Rob was a good boatman and so fathers and mothers did not worry when their sons and daughters went on the water with him.

But on this day Rob was a little careless about pulling the boat up far enough upon the island after all had landed. While the merry party was on the other side of the island the boat floated away. Then to make matters worse the sky suddenly became overcast with clouds telling of the storm that was coming.

Lena saw what happened to the boat and presently she saw the five picnickers hurrying toward the spot where they had left the boat. She could imagine how they felt when they saw their boat floating down stream.

"What can they do!" lamented Lena. "They will be soaked sure and perhaps the river will rise and sweep them away."

In hard storms Lena had seen the water rise quickly and hide all of the island except the bushes that grew upon it.

Lena could not telephone for help for there was no telephone in the house. But she put her mind to work and thought of a way to rescue the castaways.

"Come, Waggy," she called to her spaniel. "You must go to the market."

Lena wrote a message on a piece of paper and put it into the pail which Waggy always carried when he went to the meat market.

"Mr. Jones," wrote Lena, "please send somebody to the island near our house. Rob's boat has floated away and five friends of mine can't get off the island. There's a big storm coming. Please be quick!"

Waggy took the note in his pail to the butcher thinking of course that he was going to be given some meat to carry home. But he was surprised to see Mr. Jones hurry away toward the river.

A little later Lena was overjoyed to see five very wet and draggled friends of hers coming into her house to wait until the storm was over.

ON ACCOUNT OF THE BUNNIES. BY EMMA C. DOWD

Pauline looked through the picket fence and scowled.

"Oh, those poor little rabbits!" she whispered to herself. "I don't believe that boy has fed them this morning. And now he's gone off to play ball. It is a shame!" She glanced under the grape arbor, where some chickweed was growing luxuriantly, and for a minute she hesitated. The next, she was down among the chickweed, pulling it up by the handful.

She approached the fence again, looked cautiously around, to make sure nobody was in sight, and then thrust the green stuff between the pickets.

That first time of Pauline's feeding the rabbits was followed by a second and a third, and finally it came to be a common thing for her to peer through the fence to see if they were supplied with food, and if not to carry them a good meal.

One morning Pauline was feeding them with celery tips, and, having become a bit careless, stopped to see them enjoy their feast. When she looked up she was disconcerted to see their owner watching her—only a few feet away.

"I beg your pardon," she began, hesitatingly, "but I just thought I'd bring your rabbits a little celery." And she turned to go.

"Oh—I say—wait a minute!" he returned, as her foot touched the fence. "So it's you that's been feeding them, is it? The fact is, I—forgot, you know."

"I did feel sorry to see them hungry," confessed Pauline; "and I love pets."

"Say, you may have a couple of 'em, if you want," he said generously.

"And I'll help you fix a pen," he added.

"Oh, thank you! I'd like them ever so much!" beamed Pauline. And there was the beginning of a firm friendship between the small neighbors.

Pauline was to be satisfied with no such little makeshift as John gave his own pets. Only the biggest sized dry-goods box would do for the house itself, and the yard that he helped to fence off with wire netting made him look disgustedly upon the tiny space allotted to the bunnies on his side of the pickets.

When at last, Pauline's rabbits were in their new quarters. John gazed at them thoughtfully.

"Say!" he suddenly burst out. "I'm going to have just such a place for mine—big yard and all!"

"Oh, and I'll help you!" cried Pauline.

The new pen brought about other improvements. Tangled weeds and rubbish heaps seemed most unsuitable surroundings for so dainty a little maid as Pauline Randall; so John cut down the weeds and mowed the grass. He raked up the brush and rags and tin cans. Pauline gave him slips from her own geraniums, and he made a flower bed to put them in.

"Mother says she's awfully glad you fed my rabbits," he confided to Pauline, one day, "for if you hadn't our yard would probably be the same old place it has been for all these years."

Pauline looked up from the baby bunny she was petting. "I'm glad, too," she smiled. "If I hadn't, we might never have been friends."

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Dew Drops, Vol. 37, No. 17, April 26, 1914

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THE FIVE CASTAWAYS. BY COE HAYNE

ON ACCOUNT OF THE BUNNIES. BY EMMA C. DOWD

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