Books: Polly of Pebbly Pit

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Despite her resolve to be dignified and scornful, Sary had to take
flight before the group seated about the table. The girls laughed. One
of the maid's loose shoes flew off during the race around the table and
the hornet would have conquered her had not Mr. Brewster risen to the
occasion and downed the insect with his newspaper. His heavy boot
finished the career of the "Hun-net" and Sary went back to the house,
picking up her shoe as she passed its resting place.

Once more in the kitchen, she returned to the argument. "Ef it warn't
that you-all hed this comp'ny an' would be worn out in no time, alone,
Ah'd pack an' git, this day!" But in her heart the widow knew horses
could not drag her from such luxury as she had only recently enjoyed.
Besides, there was Jeb; he offered future possibilities of curtailing
her widowhood.

While Sary delivered her opinion, Mrs. Brewster finished creaming the
potatoes and now dished them up. As she started for the screen-door,
she turned to the maid and said:

"Either you have a severe attack of indigestion coming on, Sary, or you
are falling in love again. Both diseases present similar symptoms in
their first stages."

"_Mis'_ Brewster!"

But the mistress refused to look back even though the temptation to see
Sary's face was great!

"Oh, Mis' Brewster! How kin you-all say that--so soon after Bill's
funeral, an' the expenses not all paid yit!" howled Sary, rushing to
the door that her mistress might hear her lament.

But the call fell upon deaf ears. Miss Brewster deigned no reply, so
Sary sat down heavily upon a strong kitchen chair and took thought for
herself. How did Miss Brewster guess her half-formed idea? Had she
discovered in some uncanny manner, that Sary had slyly removed Bill's
post-card photograph from her Bible and cremated it that she might feel
freer to accept a second proposal of marriage--if it came?

"She coulden' hev foun' _that_ out, cuz Ah locked th' box sence then.
She mus' be one of them brain-readers by nature, Ah rickon, an' she
jes' reads me like a book!"

Never dreaming of the turbulence created in Sary's mind by her casual
remark, about dyspepsia and love, Mrs. Brewster took her chair at the
table. Immediately after giving thanks, the host stood up to carve the
roast. Then, to the surprise of all present, it was seen that the
rancher had donned his second-best black coat and had taken the trouble
to wear cuffs and a starched collar.

Trying to avoid Polly's eyes, Mrs. Brewster met the gaze of Anne. But
the two understood and exchanged a fleeting glance of satisfaction and
approval.

"Well, girls, did you visit Rainbow Cliffs--and how did you like them?"
asked Mr. Brewster, having finished the carving.

"Oh, they are just wonderful!" declared Eleanor.

"I hear they are very valuable," remarked Barbara.

Mr. Brewster sent her a sharp glance and then frowned at Polly. "Ah
never give that a thought. There they've stood for ages before Sam
Brewster saw them, and Ah reckon there they'll stand for ages after Sam
Brewster is dead and forgotten!"

"Not if I can coax Polly to sell enough of the loose stones to buy an
automobile and go off to school!" said Eleanor, emphatically.

An annoyed look from Mr. Brewster and a surprised one from Mrs.
Brewster made Anne and Polly feel uncomfortable at Eleanor's lack of
tact. But the hostess was equal to the situation.

"Polly, who do you think came to the kitchen door to ask for you while
you were at the cliffs, this morning?"

"Here--to ask for me, Mah--mother!" exclaimed Polly, in surprise.

"Yes, and she felt deeply offended because you had not asked for her
health or even sent word to her by Jeb--and she so lonely after her
accident, too!" Mrs. Brewster managed to express great pathos with her
words.

"Oh, my darling Noddy! Mother, did she come to the door?" laughed
Polly, sympathetic tears starting in her eyes at the picture called up
by her mother.

"Yes, and she said it was simply inexcusable in you. She was willing to
carry you anywhere you wished to go, but now she will disown you
forever, unless you make peace with her, this afternoon," said Mrs.
Brewster, smiling as she saw how she had succeeded in her effort to
change the thoughts and conversation of her family.

"And Jeb said he had the horses ready for you girls as soon as you
wanted to try them out," added Mr. Brewster.

Dinner was dispatched hastily after this announcement, and the girls
ran to don their habits. All idea of Barbara's wiring for return-ticket
money that day was forgotten as they went gayly towards the corral to
try out different horses.

The entire afternoon was given over to exciting sport, as the girls,
and even Mrs. Brewster, tried to outride each other about the great
enclosure. Polly made Noddy happy by mounting her silky little back and
whispering fond nothings in the long ears. Anne was pleased to find her
Chicago friends could ride so well on the restive western horses, and
both Chicago girls were surprised to find what a magnificent rider Mrs.
Brewster was. She was slowly rising in their private opinions of her.

During the following days, the girls took short rides to points of
interest in Bear Forks Valley and nearby mountains. And then came
Sunday. Barbara had not openly declared her satisfaction with the ranch
or time spent with its people, the past week, but neither had any one
heard a hint of her returning to Chicago. In fact, so much had been
crowded in the days just gone by, that no moment had been found in
which to _think_ of returning home. The trunks had not been opened
since the habits had been removed, as there was no need for changes of
costumes, and the traveling bags had contained all the girls needed for
a few days.

The ranchers of the Rocky Mountains are so strict about observing the
Sabbath Day, that everything pleasurable, or in the form of work, has
to end at twelve o'clock Saturday night. Every one goes to "meetin'" on
Sundays, some driving a distance of twenty miles, or more. Once a
month, an ordained preacher crosses the Flat Top Mountains to hold a
regular service, and on other Sundays the leading ranchers read the
Bible and conduct prayers.

The weather throughout summer in this section of Colorado is generally
fine and clear. Should a heavy thunder storm arise, it as quickly
passes over again. The nights are cool and dewy and the days glorious
and exhilarating. Hence one has no dread of foggy or prolonged rainy
days as in the East.

The plan of dining under the trees had proved a good one, and as the
weather remained fair, no meals had to be eaten in the kitchen since
that first day.

When the family gathered about the table that Sunday morning, they all
seemed cheerful and animated, but Mr. Brewster had not yet made his
appearance.

"Has Mr. Brewster had breakfast so soon?" asked Anne.

"No, he has not come out yet; he is reading the Sunday lesson for his
class in School," replied Mrs. Brewster.

"Sunday School! Do you go? Where is the church?" asked Eleanor,
wonderingly.

"Down at Bear Forks School-house. We use it for church, as well as for
other important purposes, besides day-school," Mrs. Brewster replied,
smilingly.

Soon after the girls appeared at table, Mr. Brewster came out. He said
good morning in a very sedate manner that surprised the girls who were
not accustomed to his Sunday manners.

That morning he gave a lengthy prayer of thanks that was meant to cover
the past week, but once he had concluded grace, he turned to his wife.

"Mary, I'm sure I smelled the omelette scorching."

Mrs. Brewster hurried to the kitchen where she found the eggs burning
and the room filled with horrid smoke. Sary was scolding at a great
rate, but she never used a _profane_ word because it was wicked.

"Why, Sary, how did you happen to let the eggs burn?"

"How come? Well, I'll tell you-all! Mr. Brewster handed me a printed
prayer to learn, and I was looking for my specs in my box when it
happened! That's all the good that prayer did me!"

Mrs. Brewster kept a straight face and said: "Well, never mind, Sary.
We'll soon have another omelette ready."

"Not on Sunday! I made one, and that was a sin, ez you kin see by the
way it burnt. I does no more cookin' or there'll be extra sin to wipe
out. Thar's bread and jam and coffee--enough fer any one to git along
on fer a few hours."

Mrs. Brewster knew her husband, however, so she said nothing to Sary,
but hurriedly whipped up another omelette and fried it to a delicate
brown. This she carried out to serve. At the kitchen door she turned to
speak to the help.

"Sary, bring out the bread and jam, will you?"

Sary had filled a deep dish with dry cereal and held it in one hand.
She took up the coffee-pot with the other and' ran to get out of the
screen-door which had been flung open by her mistress. But the door
slammed to sooner than Sary had calculated and struck the coffee-pot in
its violent closing, throwing it upon the floor.

"Consarn th' pesky door! Now thar hain't nuthin' on arth fer Mr.
Brewster to give thanks fer but jes' toast and jam. Ah cain't bile
another pot of coffee on Sunday!" Sary stood contemplating the disaster
until Mrs. Brewster called out:

"Sary, will you bring that bread and jam?"

The help brought the desired edibles and explained about the coffee.
Eleanor laughed out loud, but Anne kicked her warningly under the
table.

Mr. Brewster turned to explain to his guests. "Ranchers never work on
the Sabbath. The less we cook the better it is, for we do penance to
our material desire for food. I have never been so severe as to forbid
cooked food on my table, but many of the families do. This morning,
however, we are compelled to sacrifice our weaknesses to Sary's ways."

So the bread and jam was eaten with the omelette, to the accompaniment
of cold water, and then the master prepared to leave the table.

"Girls, don't waste much time fussing with your toilette; we are behind
time as it is."

"Did you expect us to go to church?" gasped Barbara.

"Certainly. Everybody goes," returned Mr. Brewster, equally surprised
at such a question.

"Why, we haven't unpacked any clothes for church."

"That doesn't matter. The Lord doesn't judge according to dress. If
your heart is clean it is all He wants," replied Mr. Brewster, walking
away towards the house.

The girls looked at each other in amazement.

"What shall we do, Anne? I won't go in this old rag!" declared Barbara.

"Don't drag me into the argument, Bob. You hate going to church and
there's no use trying to pretend it is your dress that keeps you away."

"Would Eleanor care to go with us?" asked Mrs. Brewster.

"Is Polly going?" countered Eleanor.

"Oh, yes, I always go," said Polly.

"We-el, I don't know, Poll. I'll go next Sunday but I am taken by
surprise this week. I'll stay home with Bob, I guess."

"Very well, then, I'll tell Mr. Brewster to omit the extra seat in the
wagon," and Mrs. Brewster hurried away to dress.

"What shall we do all morning?" asked Eleanor the moment the ranch-
wagon was out of sight.

"We might unpack a few things we need, and arrange the trunks so mine
can be sent back home without giving you any trouble about yours,"
suggested Barbara.

"That's a good plan. And a good day to do it in, too," laughed Eleanor.

"I think it is ridiculous--the way they go on about the Sabbath! I
suppose they would be dreadfully shocked if they knew we were about to
unpack our trunks!" said Barbara, sneeringly.

Time passed quickly in sorting out the numerous items in the seven
trunks, and the girls felt famished before they were done. The articles
they wished to have out for use were piled up on the grass outside the
barn, and it looked a formidable heap when all was ready to leave the
barn.

"Goodness me! We'll have to make a dozen trips to the house with all
this!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"We'll carry all we can pile up this first trip, and then have
luncheon. Afterward we will carry the rest over," said Barbara.

The clothing seemed so light that they kept piling up the articles
until they could hardly see from under the mountain of lingerie and
accessories. But they both found how heavy the light summer clothes
could be, when one's arms were extended unnaturally to hold up so much
finery.

They finally reached the porch and threw the things into rustic chairs,
while they sat down to cool off in the breeze.

"Now, you carry the clothes to the bedroom, Bob, while I hunt in the
kitchen for something to eat," remarked Eleanor, after a time.

These important duties attended to, the girls were about to go to the
barn for a second load of clothing when the ranch-wagon drove up to the
steps. The family got out and Jeb drove on to the barn.

"What's this on the grass?" asked Mr. Brewster, stooping to pick up a
silk stocking.

"That's Barbara's, I think," said Anne, instantly divining the cause of
its being there.

Then Jeb came running back to the house with news. "Ah found th' trunks
is b'en opened by some one, an' all th' finery is piled on the grass
outside th' barn. What hes happened, Ah want to know."

Luckily Mrs. Brewster heard his remark and Mr. Brewster had no time to
speak before she caught Anne's hand, and led Jeb back to the barn.
Shortly thereafter, the three returned laden with everything ever known
in a lady's wardrobe.

"Mary, you have broken the commandments to-day!" said Mr. Brewster,
overcoming a keen desire to laugh at his wife.

"Maybe, Sam, but I strengthened another, called the 'Golden Rule'--I
certainly did unto them what I want some one to do for mine in case of
need. Poor girls!"

Sary happened to be coming from the kitchen with the early supper
dishes in her hands. She saw Jeb with dainty silk lingerie almost
covering his head, and she heard Mr. and Mrs. Brewster's words. It was
too much!

She continued on her way, but once she reached the table she thumped
the dishes down to vent her spite. "To think them city gals kin wind
Jeb about their fingers like that! On a Sunday, too! Ah wonder hain't
he got no respeck fer me an' the Brewster women, that he allows them
snippy misses to git him to carry underwear--him what's an unmarried
man, at that!"

While the family sat at table enjoying the quiet Sunday evening, Sary
took advantage of their interesting discourse to slip away from the
kitchen and examine the beautiful lace-trimmed apparel spread out upon
the great bed in the guest-room.

"Laws me! Ef it hain't like a bridal outfit. Ef Ah ever hed hed th'
chanst t' put on ennything like-es-that, I'd not have hed t'marry a
poor rancher like Bill. Ah could have hed my pick of the men at Oak
Crick!"

Sary sighed with pity at her own limitations in life, and she crept
back to her kitchen planning how she could manage to get one of the
girls to present her with some of the bridal finery. Thus pondering the
problem, she sat down opposite Jeb and entertained him, as he ate his
Sunday supper of pork and beans.

CHAPTER X

THE DANCE AT BEAR FORKS

The interesting events which crowded each other, day after day, in this
western life, so engrossed the girls that Bob forgot her vow to send a
telegram for return money to Chicago. She even forgot to write to Mrs.
Maynard at Newport, or to any of her society friends, until Anne
reminded her of a duty to her parents.

Tuesday following their first Sunday at Pebbly Pit, a rancher's wife
called just before noon, to deliver invitations.

"Ah heer'd tell how you-all had comp'ny this summer?" were the words
with which she greeted Mrs. Brewster.

"Yes, a few young people. Will you be seated, Mrs. Halsey?" said Mrs.
Brewster, placing a chair on the vine-shaded porch.

"Ah come t' ast you-all--say, you, Sally, stop pickin' them flowers!
Mis' Brewster'll lick yuh!" The visitor interrupted herself to shout at
her little girl who proved to be a naughty one.

"Ez Ah was sayin', Ah come t' leave an invite fer th' hop at Bear
Forks. We-all is glad t' see Anne Stewart, which was a school-teacher
some time back, an' it was fit t' celebrate her friendship, in some
way. Don't cha think a dance jes' th' thing?" As the visitor spoke she
rocked violently back and forth.

"I'm sorry my visitors are not here to thank you themselves, but I feel
sure they will be delighted to attend the dance," replied Mrs.
Brewster, shaking her head rebukingly at the small boy who stood on the
rockers of his mother's chair, and gripped hold of the back, and so was
roughly swayed back and forth with the rocking.

"See har, yuh Jim Henderson Halsey--git down from thar! Ef Ah ketch
yuh, Ah'll skin yer face fer the hop--that Ah will!" threatened the
mother, trying to reach her young hopeful.

But Jim Henderson Halsey knew from dire experiences just what to expect
did his mother succeed in catching him, so he dodged and ran away.

"Did you-all say the gals would be in shortly?" asked the caller.

"No, I said they were _not_ in. They are at the corral this morning."

"Laws me! What a place t' spend th' mornin'. Ah reckon they'll be along
any time, then."

"They left here just before you came and they are practicing on our
western horses before taking any long trips," explained Mrs. Brewster,
looking regretfully at the flower-beds where the two willful children
were destroying the fruits of her planting.

Mrs. Halsey followed her hostess's glance and jumped up. "Ef yuh two
varmints don't quit that, an' come right t' me, Ah'll--Ah'll shet yuh
up in a boogy-hole!" shrilled the irate mother.

Sary heard the familiar voice and instantly ran from the kitchen to
assist in entertaining the morning visitor. The two bad youngsters,
left to their own devices, began throwing the whitewashed stones that
encircled Mrs. Brewster's roundels.

"How-dy, Miss Halsey?" was Sary's greeting, her large hand extended in
cordial comradeship.

"Oh, it's Sary Dodd! How-dee, Sary? Ah recommember now that you-all
come t' live wid Miss Brewster. How'd you-all like th' place?"

The visitor's frankness lost none of its curiosity as she eagerly
waited to hear all about the Brewster family with the mistress still
present, but ignored.

Sary was in her glory and made the most of it. She had just reached the
point where she intended asking the "gossip" to stop to have dinner,
when a crash interrupted the enlivening Yellow Jacket Pass
conversation.

"Sary, run and see what those children have done!" cried Mrs. Brewster,
mentally thanking her stars for the timely intervention.

Soon the ladies heard Jim Henderson Halsey bawling loudly, and his
sister backing away from the buttery while she continued making faces
at the angry help. The little girl's protruded tongue made Sary rush at
her with uplifted palm, but both youngsters were so accustomed to
dodging these attacks, that they reached the haven of Mrs. Halsey's
presence without a painful encounter.

"The ol' thing shook me till my teeth rattled!" wailed Jim Henderson,
etc.

"Sarves yuh right! What cha be'n up t', any way?" retorted Mrs. Halsey,
the hope of dinner still lingering, but growing dim as Sary did not
return.

Fortunately, for the general peace of all concerned, Mr. Brewster drove
up to the porch, on his way to Oak Creek. His wife's beseeching look
appealed to him understandingly.

"Good morning, Mrs. Halsey. Ah hear you-all are inviting folks to the
dance at the school house. Want me to give you a lift to Jamison's
ranch--he hasn't been invited yet!"

"Why, Ah figgered goin' thar after dinner. Be you-all goin' off before
yuh eat?"

"Ah am not sure when we will have dinner to-day, the young ladies are
so engaged with riding, you see."

The moment the Halsey scions heard mention of "dinner" they clung to
their mother's skirts and whined: "We-all wanta stay to dinnerr! Don't
cha go widdout dinnerr!"

"Why not give the children some cake, mother, and then Mrs. Halsey can
have a bite with Jamison. He can lift her on to the next ranch, too,"
suggested Mr. Brewster.

Mrs. Brewster instantly acquiesced and ran to cut three generous
triangles of cake, while her husband came up and lifted Sally up into
the deep wagon. Before any of the Halsey family could protest, he had
turned, lifted Jim Henderson up beside his sister and then asked the
visitor if he could help her up to the seat.

The cake was distributed, and the vexed but vanquished morning caller
jabbed a hat-pin through her rusty toque and pulled her jet-trimmed
shoulder cape tightly over her back, before bowing haughtily to Mrs.
Brewster.

Not until the ranch-wagon turned the edge of Rainbow Cliffs did Mrs.
Brewster permit herself to leave the post of watching and slump down
into the porch rocker with a sigh of gratitude.

Half an hour later the sound of wheels caused her to spring up in
dread, but her husband's cheery laugh relieved her fears.

"Ah saw your difficulty and did the only sensible thing; but we-all
must keep this trick a secret. If Sary gets hold of it, my reputation
in Bear Forks, or Yellow Jacket Pass, is gone," confided Sam Brewster
to his wife, as he glanced fearfully about for Sary.

The horn for dinner sounded shortly after the master's return and, at
the table, the girls were told of the visitor and her invitation to the
dance, but no word of her form of departure was mentioned.

"It's lucky we have evening-dresses," remarked Barbara.

"Do folks dress up at these parties?" asked Eleanor.

"I should say we do!" declared Polly.

Mrs. Brewster and Anne were talking in low tones and did not hear the
question and answer, so they did not explain what Polly meant by
"dressing up."

The days intervening between the Tuesday and the Friday set down for
the hop passed quickly. Polly and her mother washed and renovated the
dotted swiss dress made for the school-commencement, and to Polly's
delight Anne added a blue sash and hair ribbons.

Anne had a simple flowered-silk gown she proposed wearing. And the city
girls had elaborate dresses--Barbara's very much in the latest mode and
Eleanor's flounced and furbelowed, but modestly high in the neck as
became a girl not yet "out."

Sary had bewailed her fate the day preceding the eventful one. Eleanor
pacified her by presenting her with a net-lace collar to enliven her
rusty black alpaca.

An early supper was planned, as the ride to Bear Forks school would
take more than an hour, and every one wanted to be there for the grand
march. For several hours before supper-time, Barbara locked herself in
the bed-room and began her toilette. She dressed her hair, massaged,
and rouged and penciled her eyebrows, until she quite tired herself
out.

Eleanor and Anne rapped again and again for admission, but Barbara was
obdurate about her right of possession. When she finally opened the
door for her room-mates, they stared at her in amused surprise.

"Your hair looks all sizzly, Bob," said Eleanor.

"Oh, Bob, remove some of that carmine from your lips!" advised Anne.

"Why?" demanded Barbara.

"Too much of it, that's all!" giggled Eleanor.

But Anne and Eleanor had their own toilettes to make and paid no
further attention to Barbara. She managed to remove some of the
carmine, and pat down her hair, hot she could not do things as the
French maid generally did them to add to her beauty. Feeling
dissatisfied with her appearance made Barbara irritable, but she
remained in the room criticizing everything the two other girls did or
said. Then just before the horn sounded for supper, a knock came at the
door.

"Come in!" called Anne, buttoning her white suede boots.

"'S onny me. Ah jes' wanta ast you-all ef it is right in city sassiety,
fur a widder of six months' standin' t' go t' a party whar onny old
frien's will be. Thar won't be no sky-larkin' er high-jinks, yo' know!"

Sary's anxious tone expressed her eagerness for a favorable reply to
her query on widowhood. Eleanor looked at Anne to answer, so she took
the initiative.

"Certainly, Sary--come right along and enjoy yourself."

Barbara was shocked. "The help's not going--surely!"

"Humph! Miss Halsey ast me afore she mentioned you-all!" snapped Sary,
quite able to defend herself against Barbara's pride.

"Oh, Bob doesn't mean it that way, Sary," said Eleanor, giving her
sister a backward kick for silence.

"Of course not! Bob means that your mourning might prevent your
attending the dance. But seeing we are all old friends from ranches
round about, it will be like meeting your family," added Anne, the
pacifist.

"Wall, then, Ah'll go," sighed Sary, as if loath to join a merry
throng. "But Ah hez t' have a smitch of somethin' like-ez-how Miss Bob
hez fer her shoulders, cuz my neck's gettin' scrawny now."

Barbara had draped chiffon over her neck and dress, and at Sary's
request, she turned angrily. "The very idea! This chiffon is two
dollars a yard!"

"I've got the very thing you need, Sary. You can wear second mourning
now, I suppose!" exclaimed Eleanor, sending a look at her sister.

She hurried to the closet and took a long flat box from the upper
shelf. As she carried it over to Sary, Barbara stared.

"Eleanor Maynard! _What_ are you giving her?"

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