Chapter IV: Part 4

“Is the grotto just the same?” asked Adele wistfully. “I should so love to see it. I wish I could come over just for a minute. Do you think I might?”

Jessie shook her head decidedly. “No, I don’t think you ought. Of course I’d love to have you, but it would be disobeying; even doing it once would be disobeying.”

“It is very hard to be perfectly good,” returned Adele woefully.

“Yes, it is,” sighed Jessie, “but when we are sure a thing is wrong we ought not to do it. Sometimes you aren’t quite sure, and sometimes you forget. Forgetting is my worst sin,” she added solemnly.

“I don’t know what mine is, my very worst, I mean. When I begin to think about them I am afraid to go to bed at night.”

“Oh! Mother always----” began Jessie and then she remembered that there was no mother to whom Adele could unburden her conscience and from whom she could receive loving advice and comfort. She therefore changed the subject quickly. “I am going to get the string and the chips,” she said, “and I will send you over a load of persimmons. Do you like them? I brought some with me this morning. They are so good now that we have had frost. I don’t suppose I can send more than one or two at a time.”

Adele was delighted at the prospect of receiving such a valuable cargo which by dint of a long switch Jessie managed to pilot safely over to a spot where Adele could reach it. The second expedition was not so successful, however, but was lost in the raging torrent before it was half-way across. When a vessel is only six inches long it is very hard to navigate among the whirlpools of an uncertain stream. Nevertheless at least half a dozen persimmons reached the other shore and were duly consumed by the person to whom they were consigned.

“There will be chestnuts pretty soon,” said Jessie. “I shouldn’t wonder if there were some now. We might go and get some. Oh, I forgot they are on this side. Never mind, I will get Sam to gather some and to-morrow I can send you over a lot. I can put them in a basket and tie the basket on a long pole and in that way I can reach them over to you. Oh, I wonder if the boys took all those they gathered. I am going to the barn to see, and if they didn’t I’ll bring all I can. Just wait a minute.”

She ran off to the barn and pretty soon came back. She stopped on the way to put something in the grotto, and then went on to the brook with a small covered basket. “I’d better tie it on this pole,” she said, “for it might fall off. It is full of chestnuts. When you have emptied them send the basket back to me, and I will put something else in it.”

“What will you put in it?” asked Adele watching Jessie tie the basket securely to the pole.

“That is a secret,” said Jessie laughing.

By going upon the log she was able to reach far enough so that Adele could get the basket which was unfastened and sent back after it had been emptied of its contents. “I think you were lovely to send me all these,” said Adele delightedly.

“Oh, we shall have plenty more,” Jessie told her. “Sam says there are lots down in the big field. You shall have some of those, too. Now be very careful when you untie the basket this time. It isn’t for you to keep always, but only for a little while.”

While Adele was puzzling over this, Jessie went off to the grotto from which she abstracted something. She kept her back to Adele, and was some time in getting the basket settled to suit her. “I am just crazy to see what it is,” said Adele excitedly.

Jessie laughed and this time went further out upon the log carrying the pole very carefully and reaching it out to where Adele stood at the other end of the log. “Go a little further away when you open the basket,” she suggested, and Adele, wondering, obeyed.

She opened the lid of the basket and peeped in. “Oh!” she cried, “how lovely!”

“He has only come for a visit,” said Jessie hurriedly. “His name is Cloudy, you know. I thought you might like to see him.”

“Isn’t he a darling?” said Adele snuggling the kitten up against her face.

Jessie watched her with a serious countenance. Presently she said rather breathlessly, “Would you like to call him half yours? I don’t believe I could give him to you altogether, but we might go shares, you know.”

Adele sat down with the kitten in her lap. “Jessie Loomis, I think you are the dearest girl that ever lived,” she said earnestly, “and I should love to come over there and hug you, but I won’t, because I must be good. No, I won’t let you give me even half the kitten, but I do love to have him come over for a visit. See, he is sleepy. Shall I put him back in the basket and let him have a nap?”

“He has just had a big saucer of milk,” said Jessie, “but he is very playful most of the time. You might let him have a little nap, and I will find something else to send over to you.”

“No, let me send something this time; you have done it all,” said Adele. “I’ll go up to the house in a minute and get something. Would you mind if I took Cloudy to show to Aunt Betty and Miss Eloise? I won’t let anything happen to him and I’ll bring him right back.”

“Of course you may take him,” Jessie consented generously. And carrying the basket steadily, Adele sped away.

She was not gone very long and when she came back she brought a small paper bag of cakes and another of candies which were promptly despatched across the watery way to Jessie; but as Cloudy was asleep in the basket the little bags themselves were tied on the pole and were transported in that way.

“Aunt Betty said Cloudy was lovely,” said Adele, “and he behaved beautifully. I told her how generous you offered to be, and she sent her love to you.”

“What did Miss Eloise say?”

“She wasn’t there. Aunt Betty said she had gone somewhere, but she didn’t say where. I asked Aunt Betty if she thought papa would bring me a kitten from the city, and she said he was going to bring me a big dog in place of Dapple Gray. I’d love a big dog.”

“But where is Dapple Gray?” asked Jessie.

“He’s been sent away,” said Adele in a low voice. “Papa said as long as I couldn’t be trusted that I couldn’t have him to drive till I was old enough to have common sense, and so he has sent him to my cousin till my sense grows enough for me to have him again. Do you suppose common sense does grow?”

“I think it must,” returned Jessie thoughtfully, “for all grown people have it.”

“I don’t believe they do,” said Adele, “for I have heard papa say ever so many times that So-and-So had not a grain of common sense, and So-and-So would be a big man, too.”

“Well, maybe they get it and then lose it,” replied Jessie, “like some persons do their hair. Some persons have a great deal, and others are quite bald, you know, like Dr. Sadtler.”

This seemed a reasonable conclusion and Adele accepted it. “Well,” she said, “I hope if I ever do get my common sense that it will be nice and thick and long like Miss Eloise’s hair.”

“Is your cousin a little girl?” asked Jessie returning to her thoughts of Dapple Gray.

“No, he is a little boy, and he has been very ill, so papa said it would be a great comfort to him to have a little pony like that.”

“Is he a big boy?” asked Jessie.

“About as big as your brother Max.”

“He will hate to give Dapple Gray up?” said Jessie.

“Maybe he will be strong and well again by the time my common sense gets here,” said Adele. “I hope that won’t be so very long.”

“I hope so, too,” replied Jessie, thinking more of Dapple Gray than of Adele’s development.

“Cloudy is waking up,” said Adele. “I’d better send him back to you.”

“Tie the basket on very strongly,” said Jessie, “so it can’t fall in the water.”

But though Adele tied the basket securely enough, she was not quite so certain of her own footing, her useless arm causing her to lose her balance, and in regaining it she allowed the pole to drop so far that the basket was dipped into the water, though fortunately not so far that Cloudy received more wetting than gave him two dripping paws.

“Oh, dear, I am so relieved,” said Adele. “I thought he was drowned. Why am I always doing such dreadful things?”

“You couldn’t help it,” Jessie assured her. “You have only one arm, you see, and it was very hard to manage that long pole.” She dried Cloudy’s paws on her handkerchief and then cuddled him under her jacket. “I think I shall have to carry him up to the house,” she said, “for he might take cold. Besides, I am sure it must be nearly dinner time.”

“We have had a perfectly lovely time,” returned Adele. “I was so miserable last night when I went to bed, and I cried myself to sleep.”

“What made you so miserable?”

“Why, you see Dapple Gray went away yesterday afternoon, and I felt so lonely when I thought I couldn’t have you or him either. I am so glad you came down to the brook this morning. Will you come again this afternoon?”

“If mother says I may.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you have been playing with me all the morning.”

“Of course I shall tell her. I tell her everything, and you know we have minded exactly, for neither one of us has crossed the brook. Mother never said I couldn’t talk to you; she only said I was not to go over to your place.”

“And Aunt Betty said I mustn’t go to your place, so we really have minded them, haven’t we?”

“I should think we had,” replied Jessie. “Good-bye.”

“Good-bye,” responded Adele. And both little girls went off feeling very virtuous.

Jessie did not delay in telling her mother all about the morning’s meeting. “Do you mind, mother?” she asked.

“No,” answered her mother. “I don’t think I do in the least. I see that you both meant to be obedient, and I think the hard lesson Adele has had promises to do her a great deal of good.”

“I feel so sorry for her, oh, so sorry,” said Jessie thoughtfully. “She cried herself to sleep last night because she was so lonely. If she had had you, mother, to tuck her up and kiss her good-night and to make her feel comfortable inside, as you do me after I have been naughty, she wouldn’t have felt so.”

“Poor little child,” said Mrs. Loomis compassionately.

“I think she loves me very much,” said Jessie, “and she did just as I told her was right this morning. She never said one word about Polly or Peter Pan, either. Don’t you think I can be friends with her again, mother?”

“I think you can, for I am sure that you can do a great deal for her. It is evident that she has never been used to giving her confidences to her aunt, and so far, Miss Eloise has not been able to win them. I think Miss Eloise will in time, and meanwhile we must do all we can. Miss Eloise was here this morning, dearie.”

“Was she? Then that is why she was not at home when Adele took Cloudy up to show her. What did she say, mother?”

“She said a great many things, and some things she said made me decide to let you begin your lessons again, but I would rather you did not spend too much time at the yellow house. If you go there in the morning, that will be enough, and in the afternoon it will be better for Adele to come here to play with you. I think it is getting too cold to play by the brook, but there is the attic where you can be perfectly safe. I will have one end cleared for you, and you can have all your playthings up there.” Jessie threw her arms around her mother’s neck. “You are just the dearest mother in the world,” she cried. “I wish Adele had one exactly like you. May I just go down to the brook a few minutes this afternoon and tell her, and may I bring her back with me?”

Mrs. Loomis smiled down at the eager face as she gave her consent.

“Just one thing more,” said Jessie. “Do you mind if I stay long enough to shut up Peter Pan’s house for the winter? It won’t take long.”

“No, Miss Wendy, I don’t mind, if you will promise to mind the tree tops.”

Jessie laughed, and felt very thankful that she had such a mother.

_CHAPTER XI_

_Who Took the Spoons?_

_CHAPTER XI_

_Who Took the Spoons?_

Lessons began again the next day, and this time continued without interruption until the holidays. It would not be quite true to say that there were never any more tantrums, but it is a fact that they were less violent, and occurred less frequently. Adele really was trying to improve, and if Jessie herself once in a while had what Adele called “the pouts” and always mocked and made fun of her, Jessie was ashamed to continue them for very long, for she hated to be made fun of. The two had their little quarrels, to be sure, and sometimes did not speak for as much as a whole day, but night usually brought regret and the next morning each would be eager to make up.

One day Jessie coming home from school found her mother counting the silver. “Jessie,” she said, “do you remember taking any of these small teaspoons at any time?”

“Why no, mother,” returned Jessie. “I always have a kitchen spoon, you know, and I haven’t had one of those for a long time, not since that day I had the marmalade down by the brook.”

“I don’t see where they can have gone,” said Mrs. Loomis. “There are two missing, and I am sure they were all here last week. Minerva is very careful and I don’t think she could possibly have thrown them out. You are quite sure that you and Adele have not had them up in the attic?”

“I am quite sure,” returned Jessie, “but I will go and look.”

“I wish you would,” said her mother.

Jessie trudged up to the attic and searched among the playthings, but there were no spoons to be seen. She went back to her mother. “They are not there,” she said. “Adele and I haven’t had anything but dolls’ parties up there, and then we used the spoons that belong to the play tea-set.”

“I cannot think where they can be,” repeated Mrs. Loomis.

“Perhaps the boys had them down at the barn or somewhere,” suggested Jessie.

“But I have counted them since they went back to school, and they were all here. I have looked everywhere I can think of, and so has Minerva. They are never taken to the kitchen except to be washed, and the only person who has been along is that old peddler who comes with tins sometimes. I have always thought him an honest old soul, as peddlers go, but I can think of no one else.”

“I don’t believe it was the peddler,” said Jessie. “He has been coming here for a long time, and he is always very nice and kind. He gave me a ring with a blue set in it one day because he said he liked little girls, and that he once had a little daughter about my age who died. I am sure it couldn’t be the peddler.”

“It doesn’t seem to me so either,” returned Mrs. Loomis, “but where are the spoons?”

Jessie shook her head, and the loss remained a mystery, for no amount of searching brought them to light. It even became more and more mystifying, for in a few days a little coffee-spoon was missing. It was a souvenir spoon which had been sent to Mrs. Loomis by her sister, and had been left on Mrs. Loomis’s dressing bureau after the box containing it was opened.

“This is more and more perplexing,” said Mrs. Loomis, “for I know positively that I left it in my room, and who in the world could go up there without my knowledge?”

This was the last spoon taken, and although the matter was not forgotten it was after a while dropped, all concluding that in some unexplained way the spoons had fallen behind the surbase or through a crack in the floor. This might explain the disappearance of the teaspoons, for there was a large crack in the kitchen floor near the fireplace, but it could not account for the coffee-spoon. “I’ll have that board in the kitchen taken up in the spring,” said Mr. Loomis. “We don’t want to take the stove down now, and no doubt you will find the other in your room somewhere when the spring cleaning is done.” So the matter rested.

When Jessie told Adele about the loss she declared that Playmate Polly had taken them. It was her way to charge Playmate Polly with all sorts of evil traits, and the two little girls quarreled upon this subject oftener than any other, absurd as it was. If Adele wanted to tease Jessie she had but to say something disagreeable about Playmate Polly, and Jessie’s anger would rise, so that it finally became as a red rag to a bull, and the more Adele teased the more Jessie resented it.

They seldom played by the brook now, but the attic was a great source of pleasure. It was well heated by a register, so there was no danger that the children should take cold. A set of shelves on one side made a fine playhouse, and Sam had made a low table of just the proper height. It was a rough sort of affair, but served its purpose. The legs of two old chairs were sawed down to suit the children and a bit of old carpet was spread upon the floor, so they considered that the playroom was finely furnished. Minerva put up a little white curtain at the window, and would always remember them on baking days with a little pie, a pan of tiny rolls, or some small cakes, so that Saturday was feast day as well as holiday.

One Saturday the two children were sitting at the table coloring some pictures in a couple of old magazines. Mr. Hallett had brought them each a small paint box the night before and they took this first opportunity of trying their powers. Cloudy, attired in the long white frock belonging to Jessie’s baby doll, was asleep in an improvised crib made of a small stool turned upside down. He seemed perfectly satisfied and was having a good nap. Charity sat by his side in the character of nurse, and Peter Pan was sitting in a swing which hung from the rafters.

“I think I shall put a red frock on my lady,” Adele said.

“I tried red,” said Jessie, “but it doesn’t go very well. It is kind of thick and messy looking. I believe I will try this yellow.” They worked away for a few moments, very much absorbed in their painting, but they were interrupted by a faint mew from the crib. “The baby is waking up,” said Jessie, “and he can’t walk about very well in that long frock. I shall have to take it off, I suppose, so he can run about.”

“But he does look so cunning in it,” said Adele admiringly.

“I know he does, and I can put it on again after a while, but mother says I have no right to make him uncomfortable, and to keep him from playing when he wants to, so it will have to come off, and when he gets sleepy I can put it on again. Oh, what’s that?”

Adele ran to the window and drew aside the curtain. “Why, it’s Eb,” she exclaimed. “He is pecking at the window. He wants to come in. Shall I open the window, Jessie?”

“Why, yes. It won’t do any harm to let him stay with us. I wonder how he found his way. You might leave the window open, Adele. It is real warm to-day and then he can go out when he wants to.”

“I see how he came,” said Adele looking out the window.

“He couldn’t fly as high as this with his wings clipped.”

“No, but he could fly as high as the smokehouse door. It is open, you see, and then he could fly on the roof, and from there to the branch of that big tree. He could walk along the branch, you see, and get up here.”

“So he could, quite easily, and I suppose that is the way he came. It is the first time he has found us. See how pleased he is,” for Eb was walking about in the most insinuating manner, dipping and curtseying and making enticing little sounds. “Don’t let him drink the paint water, Adele; it might make him ill. No, Eb, you can’t have that,” for Eb, attracted by the bright colors in the box, was trying to peck at them. Jessie shut her box, and Adele did likewise. Then Eb spied the kitten and sidled up to him. The girls watched the two in their funny antics until they heard Minerva calling at the foot of the stairs.

Jessie ran down to her, and presently came back with a little apple pie which she set on the table. “Doesn’t it look good?” she said. “Shall we eat it now?”

“We might as well,” returned Adele.

“I brought up some milk for the kitten,” said Jessie, “so he can sit on one side the table and Eb on the other. I have a stale crust up here that I will soak in the milk and give to Eb. He will like that.” So the funny company sat down together, the kitten perched on a high box with a small saucer of milk before him, Eb with his soaked crust on a piece of pasteboard, and the two girls, each with half a pie. Eb was the first to finish his meal and then he flew down to see what other entertainment the place afforded. He went prying around for a few minutes before he spied Adele’s paint brush which she had neglected to put away. The piece of bright metal at one end attracted him and in a moment he was upon the window sill with the brush in his beak. Jessie spied him just as he was about to take flight.

“Oh, see what Eb has!” she cried. “Shut the window quick!”

Adele, who was nearest, jumped up, but Eb was too quick for her and was beyond reach before she could get to him. “He’s gone,” she cried. “He has gone off with my brush. How shall we get it?”

“You stay here and watch him,” said Jessie, “and I will go down and see if I can grab him before he gets away with it.”

She ran downstairs while Adele watched from the window. Still carrying the brush, Eb walked across the roof to the limb of the tree which overhung one side of the house. He took a short flight to the limb, walked along it, flew to the smokehouse and stood there. The door, however, was shut by now, and he was not sure that he could venture to fly down from the roof. Now was Jessie’s time. She ran to the kitchen.

“Give me some dough or corn bread, or something, quick, Minerva,” she said.

Minerva picked up a piece of corn bread from a plate and gave it to her. “What in the world is the matter with the child?” she said as Jessie scurried out. She followed the little girl to where she stood crumbling the corn bread into one palm. “Well, I declare,” she said. “What has he got now?”

“Adele’s paint brush,” Jessie told her. “Come, Eb. Come get some nice supper.”

Eb cocked his head to one side, and regarded the outstretched hand for a moment, then he dropped the paint brush and flew down to Jessie’s shoulder. The paint brush rolled down from the roof to the ground. Scattering the crumbs before him, Jessie set Eb down, and ran back, stopping under the window from which Adele was looking and calling up to her, “Here it is. I made him drop it.”

“I’ll come down and get it,” replied Adele.

“Bring Cloudy with you,” Jessie called back.

In a few minutes Adele appeared with Cloudy in her arms. “I shut the window,” she said. “It is getting dark up there, and I suppose I shall have Angelina coming for me in a few minutes. I am glad you were able to make Eb give up the brush. What do you suppose he was going to do with it? Isn’t he getting to be a thief?”

“He certainly is,” said Jessie. “I suppose he was going to hide it somewhere.”

“I wonder where?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. Where do you suppose he would hide things, Minerva?”

“Bless me, I’m sure I can’t tell. Well, there, I shouldn’t be the least surprised if he was the one that stole those spoons. It is a wonder none of us thought of that. It’s only lately he’s taken to carrying off things, though. He tried to get my thimble off my finger yesterday.”

“I’m going right in to tell mother about him,” said Jessie, “and maybe we can find the spoons if he has hidden them.”

Minerva followed the two children into the sitting-room, where Mrs. Loomis was told of the suspicion which rested upon Eb. “Well, I declare,” she said. “I verily believe he is the thief. We must watch him, and see where he goes. Keep your eyes open, children, and perhaps we can trace him.”

However, Eb was much too sly to be discovered at once, and despite all their efforts they could not find out where he made a hiding-place for his treasures. He was even given the chance to carry away certain articles, but as soon as he saw that he was followed he would drop what he carried and would fly off with a caw of derision. “He is the cleverest creature I ever saw,” declared Minerva. “There is no catching him napping. I let him carry off a piece of my red worsted this morning, and would you believe it, he dropped it on the step as soon as I opened the door.”

“We’ll catch him unawares some time,” said Sam.

But as if he knew himself suspected, Eb continued to behave with such secrecy that no one could say that he was really the thief, and finally Jessie declared that she didn’t believe he was guilty at all, and she told Adele so.

“No, I don’t believe it is he,” Adele answered with a gleam of mischief in her eye. “I have always believed it is Polly. I saw Eb sitting on her head whispering things in her ear one day, when I was coming to your house, so maybe he puts her up to it.”

“You are so silly, Adele,” returned Jessie impatiently, and turning away.

Adele ran after. “Don’t get mad, Jessie. Please don’t. I was only fooling, but it is such fun to pretend things about Polly. If you won’t get mad, I will tell you a secret; a very great secret. Say you aren’t mad.”

“I’m not so very mad,” Jessie answered, the prospect of a secret being more than she could withstand.

The children were in the attic snuggled near the heater, for it had suddenly grown quite cold. “Guess who the secret is about,” said Adele.

“About us?”

“You and me, do you mean? Well, partly.”

“Is Dapple Gray coming home?”

Adele looked grave. “No, not yet, though papa said the other day that he was very sure I could have him some time, if I kept on improving. I’ll tell you who the secret is about and then you can guess some more. It is about Miss Eloise.”

“Is she going away?” asked Jessie in alarm, for she had become very fond of her teacher.

Adele shook her head. “No, at least she is and she isn’t.”

“I don’t see how that could be.”

“Don’t you? I do. She might be going away from our house but not from the neighborhood.”

“Why should she do that? Oh, do tell me, Adele. I can’t possibly guess.”

“Well,” agreed Adele, “it is this way. Miss Eloise is engaged to be married to a professor or teacher or something. He has been here to see her, and, what do you think? If they can find a house big enough near here they are going to take it and have a school next year, and I shall go to it. Papa is so pleased, because he says he will never have to send me away to school then.”

“Shall you like going to a man?” asked Jessie somewhat disturbed.

“Oh, the teachers won’t all be men,” said Adele, “and I like Mr. Davis very much. So will you, for of course you will go, won’t you?”

“I don’t know. Where will the school be?”

“They can’t tell till they see what house they can get.”

Jessie was thoughtful for a moment, then presently she cried, “I know. I know just the place. It isn’t very far from here. We can see it from the window, now that the trees are bare. It is a great big white house with ever so many rooms in it. Father knows all about it. It is this side the railroad track, so I could go there.”

“Oh, come, let’s go tell Miss Eloise,” said Adele with an eagerness which seemed to suggest that perhaps the house would disappear over night. And the two sought Miss Eloise without delay.

“I’ve told Jessie your secret,” said Adele bursting in upon her teacher, “and she knows exactly the house for you and Mr. Davis. Her father can tell you all about it.”

Miss Eloise looked up from her embroidery, a little flush mounting to her cheek. “What do you think of my secret, Jessie?” she asked drawing the little girl to her side.

“I think it is a very nice one for Mr. Davis,” she answered.

Miss Eloise laughed, and Miss Betty said, “I must tell him that.”

“Why don’t you think it is nice for me?” Miss Eloise asked Jessie.

“Maybe I shall think it is nice if you live in ‘The Beeches,’” she said.

“Then we surely must see about it. Is the name of the place ‘The Beeches,’ and is it near here?”

“It is just beyond our place,” Jessie told her, “but the house hasn’t been lived in for a long time. The man who owns it has gone abroad and wants to sell it. My father can tell you all about it, for we have the keys at our house.”

“Then we must certainly see about it,” said Miss Eloise, turning to Miss Betty. “That would just suit, Betty, and I should rather be on this side the railroad, for then we should be between Appledore and Fulton so we could control both. Thank you, Jessie, for coming to tell me. Of course we shall not open our school till next fall, but if the house is out of repair it will take some time to put it in order, and one should be in plenty of time for such things. Must you go now?”

“Yes, it is getting late,” said Jessie, “and I mustn’t be out after dark.”

“I hope you are bundled up warm,” said Miss Betty, “for it is getting so cold.”

“I’ll run all the way,” said Jessie, “and that will keep me warm.” She made her adieux and started off, her thoughts full of Miss Eloise and her secret.

_CHAPTER XII_

_What Was Found Out_

_CHAPTER XII_

_What Was Found Out_

That winter had really come was made apparent the next morning when a light fall of snow covered the ground. Jessie looked out of her window and saw that Playmate Polly wore a white hood and that a scarf of snow hung down on one side of her. “I think it looks rather well,” said Jessie to herself. “I wonder if mother will let me go where I can see closer. I have never been to Polly’s in winter time. I wish it were Saturday.”

She was so excited over the new snow that she could scarcely wait till breakfast was over to go down the hill toward the brook. Mrs. Loomis consented to her making a short call upon Playmate Polly. “For I do so want to see her white hood,” said Jessie, “and I will wear my rubbers so I shall not get my feet wet. If Adele comes tell her I will be back in five minutes, or may I stay ten minutes, mother?”

“Not longer,” her mother told her.

She set off over the untrodden snow that lay between the house and the fence, but beyond this she discovered that some one had been before her, for there were footprints in the snow, queer little footprints that went on for a short distance and then stopped beginning again further on.

“Eb has been down to see Polly,” said Jessie to herself. She ran on leaving her own footprints by the side of Eb’s and when she was within a little distance of the row of willows, she saw that Eb was sitting on Polly’s head, and was, as Adele said, whispering in her ear. Jessie stood still for a moment to watch him, and while she was looking suddenly he disappeared. Jessie was astonished. “Where in the world has he gone?” she exclaimed. “I saw him and then I didn’t see him. I must go right there and ask Polly about it.” She went on toward the tree and presently discovered that which had the appearance of a hood when she saw it from her window had now changed into a wreath upon Polly’s head. “I think that is very funny,” said Jessie.

She went close to the tree and looked up, and while she was looking, out popped Eb’s black head from the centre of the wreath of snow. At sight of Jessie he began to scold and repeat his “Hallo” a great many times. “I do believe there is a hole there,” said Jessie. “I never knew that before, but then I am not tall enough to see over the top of your head, Polly. That is why you have a wreath instead of a hood. I wish I could see in.” She looked at Eb who was strutting uneasily about, and an idea came to her. “I do believe, Ebony Loomis,” she exclaimed, “that is where you hide things!”

Full of this discovery, she ran up to the barn where she saw Sam. “I wish you would bring a ladder, Sam,” she said. “I want to see if there is a hole in that little tree. I believe it is where Eb hides his treasures.”

“You don’t say so,” said Sam. “What makes you think that?”

“I saw his tracks on the way down. First he would walk a little and then he would fly, for there were spaces between the tracks. When I got down there I saw him sitting on the tree, and I believe he had something in his beak, though I couldn’t see exactly. All of a sudden he wasn’t there, but in a minute I saw his head pop up from the top of the tree.” Not for the world would she have divulged to Sam that Playmate Polly was really a person. He would never understand how such a thing could be.

“I shouldn’t wonder if you was right,” said Sam. “I can’t go down just this minute, but after a while I will go and look.”

“I wish you could go now,” said Jessie, “for I have got to go to school.”

“Wish I could,” Sam answered, “but I will go before you get back. I reckon if there is anything there it will stay. He ain’t likely to move it.” Jessie was obliged to be satisfied with this, and knowing it was high time she was off to her lessons, she went up to the house for her books, stopping to tell her mother of what she suspected Eb. But there was not much time to discuss it then, for it was getting late and she must hurry away.

She found Adele in a high state of excitement over the arrival of the big dog her father had promised her. He was a beautiful collie, and already had attached himself to his little mistress. It is safe to say that lessons did not receive the attention they should that morning. Moreover even Eb’s tricks were lost sight of in the presence of the new pet. So Adele was not told of what Jessie had seen that morning.

Indeed it was not till after dinner that Jessie remembered that Sam was going to investigate the top of Playmate Polly’s snow-wreathed head; and she hunted him up to find out what he had discovered. He was not at the barn where she first looked for him, but as she turned from there she heard a chop-chopping from the direction of the brook. What was Sam doing? She hurried toward the spot, and saw him with axe uplifted. She uttered one cry of dismay and the next minute Polly toppled over and lay prostrate on the ground. She ran toward the fallen figure of her late companion. “Oh, poor Polly,” she whispered under her breath, her eyes full of tears.

When she reached the place where Playmate Polly had stood Sam was bending over a hollow stump. He looked up with a laugh. “You was right,” he said. “Here’s that little black thief’s treasure.” He put his hand into the stump and drew forth the three spoons, a brass thimble, some shining bits of glass, several bright buttons, and, last of all, Adele’s lost Peter Pan. “Well, I never!” exclaimed Sam.

Jessie drew a long sigh. “Oh, Sam,” she said tremulously, “why did you have to cut it down?”

“It wasn’t no good,” said Sam. “Hollow all through. Your father said it had best come down, and then we could see what that rascal had hid there.”

“But I liked her,” said Jessie sadly, feeling that she had been the cause of Playmate Polly’s downfall.

Sam looked at her curiously. “First time I ever heard a tree called _her_,” he said.

Jessie looked at the chips scattered around, at Polly’s head from which her wreath had fallen. “Oh, dear! oh, dear!” she sighed.

“What’s the matter?” asked Sam. “Ain’t you glad to get your doll baby back?”

“It isn’t mine; it’s Adele’s,” said Jessie. “Yes, I am very glad to get that. Oh, Sam!” she cried in alarm as she saw him with axe again uplifted, “you’re not going to chop her to pieces!”

Sam lowered the axe. “I thought I might as well,” he said. “Make a little fire-wood.”

“Please don’t! Please don’t!” she cried.

“Well, you’re a funny one all right,” said Sam shouldering his axe. “Settle it with your father; ’tain’t no odds to me.”

Jessie stood for a moment looking at the prostrate Polly and then she turned and walked slowly to the house, carrying with her the three spoons and the little scarlet-coated Peter Pan. She went into the sitting-room and laid the things on the table. “Mother,” she said solemnly, “Playmate Polly is dead.”

Mrs. Loomis looked up from her sewing. “What on earth do you mean, daughter?” she said.

Jessie picked up the things she had laid on the table. “Sam has felled her to the earth,” she said, “and he found these.”

Mrs. Loomis tried to hide a smile at Jessie’s tragic manner. “What did he find?” she asked.

Jessie handed her the spoons and the doll.

“Then the crow did hide them, and it was you who found him out.”

“Yes, I did it,” returned Jessie. “Poor Polly! I did it.”

“My dear little girl,” said Mrs. Loomis, “you mustn’t feel badly about an old hollow tree. I suppose Sam had to cut it down in order to get at the things.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” returned Jessie, “but I did like her so much. Will she have to be chopped up for fire-wood, mother? Sam was going to do it, but I stopped him, and he said I must settle it with father. Do you suppose he will care if she isn’t?”

“I don’t imagine he will care at all, for a little old tree like that would be small loss.”

“Will you ask him not to?”

“Why, yes, if you like; but why not ask him yourself?”

“I don’t like to talk to any one but you about Polly,” said Jessie after a pause. “Even Adele never could understand.”

Mrs. Loomis kissed the rather woe-be-gone little face. “Then, my darling,” she said, “I am very sorry you have lost your Polly, and you may rest assured that she shall stay just as she lies as long as you wish. I am very glad to get back the spoons, though I am sorry they could not have been discovered in another place.”

“I am glad to get back Adele’s doll, too. Here she comes now, mother, and she has her lovely dog with her.”

Adele came in with a rush, her dog, which she had named Rob, frisking after her. “Go out, Rob,” cried Adele. “Aunt Betty said I could bring him if I promised he shouldn’t come in the house. His feet are all wet.” She closed the door after Rob, shutting him out on the porch, where he lay down to wait for her. “Why, where did you find my Peter Pan?” asked Adele whose quick eyes spied the doll first thing.

“Sam found it and the spoons in a hollow tree. It was Eb who took it and the spoons, too. He hid them with some other things.”

“I knew it was Polly,” said Adele with a laugh. “I always said she had them.”

“Oh, Adele, don’t talk that way,” returned Jessie in a distressed voice. “Polly is dead.”

Adele looked at her for a minute to see if she really were in earnest. “What do you mean?” she said.

“Sam had to chop her down to get at the things. They were down so deep he couldn’t reach them.”

“Oh,” said Adele, “I am sorry, Jessie, I truly am, and I wish I had never said mean things about her. I shall never, never, never, be so horrid again.”

Playmate Polly was allowed to lie where she had fallen, and in time the green grass and flowering weeds grew up all around her and quite hid her from view. And the next year there was no thievish crow to hide away his spoils in hollow trees. For with the spring came visitors of his own kind, among them such a charming young lady crow as caused Eb to forsake his old friends, and he flew away with the flock to live a wild life. Once Jessie passing along through the orchard heard something above her head cry out: “Hallo!” and she believed the black wings which she saw among the branches must belong to her old pet, and the next winter a pair of crows came often, when the snow was on the ground, to feed with the chickens. Minerva never drove them away, for she believed it was Eb and his mate who had returned to his familiar haunts, counting upon receiving hospitality.

Thus Jessie lost two of her companions, but as time went on she and Adele became closer friends, who were happy with Rob, Cloudy and the dolls. Before it was time to open the grotto again, Adele had renamed her doll of the scarlet coat. “I shall call him Reddy,” she said to Jessie, who understood that on account of Playmate Polly and the old quarrel, Adele wanted to be generous.

So Peter Pan had it all his own way, though he often went to see Reddy in a fine cave that Jessie helped Adele make for him.

Early in June Miss Eloise left the yellow house to be married, and one day, a couple of weeks after, there was a great stir and bustle at “The Beeches.” Mrs. Loomis, Miss Betty, Dr. and Mrs. Sadtler were all on hand to welcome home the bride and groom. Jessie and Adele were on the watch for the carriage as it drove from the station. Adele was the first to spy it coming up the road. “There they are!” she cried.

“There they are,” echoed Jessie. “Let’s run and get the dears.”

The two stood on the porch as Mr. and Mrs. Davis alighted. Adele was the first to rush forward and thrust something into Mr. Davis’s arms. “This is for you,” she cried.

“And this is for you.” Jessie turned to Mrs. Davis and deposited in her arms a small black kitten.

Mr. Davis accepted the roly-poly puppy that Adele had given him and turning to his wife, he said, “You know all along, Eloise, I have declared we must have a dog.”

“And I said no home could be complete without a cat,” returned his wife laughing. “You are two dear children to supply our wants so soon,” she said to the little girls.

“We think it is going to be lovely here,” said Adele eagerly.

“Max and Walter are coming here to school,” Jessie announced. “Are you glad to be our neighbors, Miss Eloise?”

“My dear, I am delighted. I didn’t realize what a charming old place this really was. What have you all been doing to it?” She looked around upon a well ordered garden, upon a smoothly cut lawn, upon a freshly painted porch where boxes of flowers stood, and then she caught sight of the group within doors who were standing to welcome her. “You dear people,” she said holding out her hands. “How good you are to us, and how the whole place is changed. What fairy work is this?”

“You must ask these little girls,” said Mrs. Loomis, smiling down at Jessie and Adele. “They put it into our heads, and said it was a shame for you to come home to a dingy old house, to a neglected lawn and a flowerless garden, and so we thought, too. Therefore we have all taken turns in seeing that things were done as they should be. And now come in to supper.”

“Supper?” Mrs. Davis looked at her husband. “And we looked forward to an empty house with a still emptier larder. We said we should have to picnic for days till we could get the house in running order.” Still holding the kitten, she put her free arm around both little girls, and they wondered why her eyes should be full of tears. “We shall never feel like strangers here, Fred,” she said to Mr. Davis.

“Indeed, I should say not,” he replied. “This is a true home-coming.”

All summer long work went on in the big white house till fall found it ready with classrooms, with a new gymnasium, with pretty sleeping rooms for the boarding pupils. And every room was filled, while the day scholars were not a few.

Jessie and Adele started off together. Max and Walter had already gone on ahead. Adele was unusually thoughtful on the way. “What are you thinking of?” Jessie asked her. “You are so quiet.”

“I was thinking about a lot of things,” was the reply. “I was thinking suppose papa had not found the yellow house for us to live in, then I should never have known you, Miss Eloise would never have found ‘The Beeches,’ and I might have been far away somewhere, just as lonely as I was before.”

“But you did come to the yellow house, you see,” said Jessie, “and now we are friends and are always going to the same school.”

“And after we grow up we shall still be friends. Say we shall, Jessie.”

“Of course,” returned Jessie.

Max ahead of them called over his shoulder, “You two had better hurry up. We don’t want to be late the first day.”

The two girls increased their lagging pace. “We’re coming,” Jessie called.

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