Read Ebook: The Girl Scouts at Home; or Rosanna's Beautiful Day by Galt Katherine Keene

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 601 lines and 27870 words, and 13 pages

the trees are bare and brown, When snow is deep on dell and hill, And wintry winds are cold and chill, This would not be the place for me," He said, and teetered on his tree. "I know a land far, far away, Where winter is as warm as May." He waved a wing and winked an eye, And off he flew, "Good-bye, good-bye!"

All the children except Tommy clapped their hands when Luella finished. It did indeed sound sweet and she spoke it very prettily, waving her hand and winking her own eye at the end.

Rosanna and Myron felt that their time had come. They looked at each other, but Minnie settled the question.

"Now it is Miss Rosanna's turn," she said, "and then Myron's. Ladies first. Give us a real nice story, Miss Rosanna."

"About robbers," said Tommy, chewing on a grass stem.

"I don't know any about robbers," said Rosanna pleasantly, "but I do know one about a cat, or a kitten rather, and it really happened. Helen told one about a dog, and this is about a cat.

"Once there were two little boys, Walter and Harold, and they were going a long, long way to their new home in the West where they were going to live. And they had a pet kitten that they wanted to take along so badly that fin'ly their mother and father said they might take it if they would carry it in its basket all the way and never ask anyone else to take care of it. So they said they would, and by-and-by they had everything packed up and ready, and when the time came, they started off and got on the train, kitten and all.

"They had things for it to eat and milk for it to drink, and when the conductor was not in the car they used to take it out of its basket and pet it and play with it. And the kitten didn't mind it a bit.

"Well, when they had been on the train a couple of days they let the kitten out, and Harold had it on his lap sound asleep.

"When they had gone the sixty miles the car stopped, but the boys didn't care to look out or anything. They just sat and thought about their little kittie, and Harold said, 'Seems as though I can hear her cry,' and Walter said, 'Don't say that again,' and then he looked funny, because he thought he could hear her himself!

"Harold said, 'I suppose she is dead, and that is her ghost.' Walter said, 'No, it's not; even kitten ghosts don't make a noise. There it is again.'

"And then they looked around very slowly, the way you do when you think something is going to happen and you don't know just what it will be, and there in the seat back of them was the brakeman and he was holding that kitten!

"When he opened the car door he found her squeezed up in a corner of the top step, where she had ridden all that long way. When the brakeman tossed her off she knew that the boys were on the train, so she climbed right back, but she didn't get on quick enough to get into the vestibule before the door was shut, so she had to hang on and ride outside. She was scared nearly to death and jumped at every sound and trembled for days, but the boys petted her and comforted her, and by-and-by she felt all right. And there were lots of mice in the house they went to live in, and that took her mind off herself. And that's all of that," said Rosanna, smiling.

"That's a nice story," said Minnie. "Now let's hear what Myron has to tell."

"Once there was a little boy," said Myron, without waiting to be teased. "Once there was a little boy and he had a mamma and two brothers and three sisters, and he grew up and made lots of money, and bought lots of nice things for his mamma, and his two brothers and his three sisters and that's all."

"The dear lamb!" said Minnie. "That's the best story of the lot."

"Mine was better," said Tommy. "Mine was a real feller."

"I suppose it is my turn now," said Mary, "as long as you want to save Minnie for the last. Could you let me say you a little poetry, or was Luella's enough? I think some poetry sort of mixes things up a little."

"Well, then I will say some instead of a story." Mary cleared her throat and, rising, made a little bow.

UNAFRAID

The day I die, I'll quickly go Past all the angels, row on row, Straight up to God; I'll know His face Even up there in that new place.

In Sunday School, the way they teach, God is almost too great to reach. They act a little bit afraid; Because the world and all He made.

But if He made the heavens blue, He made the sweet wild violets too; And Oh, what careful work it took To plan the small trout in the brook.

I know He's just the very size Of father; with most loving eyes. Just big enough so one like me Can safely lean against His knee.

"Those were lovely verses," said Minnie when Mary had finished. "I wonder who wrote them."

"My teacher wrote them," said Mary. "I think they are real nice."

"I do think it is a waste of time for me to tell a story," said Minnie. "First you know the machine will be here and then we will have to hurry home."

"I would like to hear you tell a story ever so much," said Mary. "I know it would be a nice one, but I must be starting along pretty soon. It is a long way from here to the car track, and I have to stop so often on account of the baby being so heavy. It is so funny about babies, they seem to get so heavy toward night."

"Indeed they do after you have lugged them about all day," said Minnie. "I say I know all about it, dearie."

"We are not going to let you walk at all," said Rosanna. "We are going to take you wherever you live right in the car."

"Nautomobile ride! Nautomobile ride!" chanted Tommy, tossing his cap.

"I think you are just too good," said Mary. "Will your automobile hold such a lot?"

"Oh, yes, indeed, and more too!" said Rosanna, glad for once that she had a big Pierce-Arrow.

"I hear the car coming," said Minnie. Everybody listened, and sure enough the big car rounded the bend and drew up at the bank with a mighty blast of the horn. Tommy yelled in reply and bolted for it, the others following, loaded down with the empty hamper and rugs, and by no means least, the baby, awake now and very happy after his sleep.

Minnie marshalled them into their places, putting the two boys on the front seat with Mr. Culver, and off they rolled. When they reached the little house where the children lived, Mary thanked Rosanna and Helen and Minnie and Mr. Culver again and she would have liked to thank the car too, and the hamper. Even Tommy managed to say, "Much obliged!" before he rushed to the house so he could have the fun of telling all about it before Mary could get there.

But Mary did not mind. This was something that would have to be told over and over a dozen or twenty times. She stood with Luella and Myron, the baby looped over her arm, and watched the car disappear with a feeling of happiness and gratitude that filled her thin little frame to overflowing.

When the car reached the great white steps of Rosanna's house, the two little girls said good-night.

"I never had such a nice, lovely, beautiful day in all my life, Rosanna," she said. "And all because you were so good and kind."

"Well, it did turn out so," said Minnie.

The car rolled away, and Rosanna and Minnie went into the big, cool hall.

On the table was a letter addressed to Rosanna in her grandmother's stiff, precise handwriting. Rosanna took it up with a sort of groan.

"That's to tell when she is coming home, of course," she said. "I won't read it until I am all undressed. Everything is going so beautifully and I am learning such a lot and having such a lovely time that it doesn't seem as though I could bear to have it come to an end."

"I think you ought to read your letter, Rosanna," Minnie said. "I don't believe in leaving things. You expect bad news in that letter and you are having a horrid time all the time you are getting ready for bed. You couldn't feel any worse if you opened it. And suppose there was good news in it? Then you would wish you had found it out before, wouldn't you?"

"I suppose so," said Rosanna listlessly.

She sighed and, taking the letter, tore off the end of the envelope and commenced to read. The second sentence caused her to cry out. She turned to Minnie, hugged her, and cried, "Oh, Minnie, you are so wise! Just listen to this!" The letter read:

"My dear Granddaughter Rosanna:

"What news I have had from home leads me to believe that you are well and being nicely cared for.

"Since this is the case, I feel that it will be possible for me to remain here in the East for a few weeks with your Uncle Robert. He is not ill, you understand, but is run down and nervous from the effects of his wound and many trying experiences abroad. He is fussing because he has lost track of a soldier friend of his, the man who saved his life. He is doing all he can to trace him, as he feels--and of course so do I--that we could never do enough to repay the debt we owe him.

"About yourself, I hope you will have a good time. Do not forget to practice. Mrs. Hargrave spoke of seeing a very interesting child at our house. I am very glad you have found among your acquaintances one whom you would like to make your friend. I can trust you, Rosanna, to choose wisely. And I am glad to see that Mrs. Hargrave says that this Helen somebody comes of an old Lee County family. I cannot read the name. Mrs. Hargrave is a very careless penman. Always write distinctly, Rosanna. It is one of the many marks of good breeding.

"Your Uncle Robert sends his love. He is anxious to see you.

"Your loving grandmother,

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet