Lucy

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13. Nate's Cave



The little teacher went back to her school the very next day. It was a hard thing, but she knew her parents desired it. Her proud head was lowered; she could not meet the eyes of the children, who seemed to be trying their best not to laugh. At last she spoke:--

"I got frightened yesterday. I was not very brave; now was I? Hark! The people in the mine are blasting rocks again, but we won't run away, will we?"

They laughed, and she tried to laugh, too. Then she called the classes into the floor; and no more did she ever say to the scholars about the earthquake. She helped Nate in his arithmetic, and he treated her like a queen. He was coming to Aunt Vi's room that evening to show his knee-buckles and cocked hat and find out just what he was to do on the stage.

Kyzie wanted to see the cocked hat and felt interested in her own white cap which Mrs. McQuilken was making. It was a good thing for Katharine that she had "Jimmy's play" to think of just now. It helped her through that long forenoon. After this the forenoons did not drag; school went on as usual, and Kyzie was glad she had had the courage to go back and "live down" her foolish behavior.

When they met in Aunt Vi's room that evening it was decided not to have "Jimmy's play" on the tailings, for that was a place free to all. People would not buy tickets for an entertainment out of doors.

"My tent is the thing," said Uncle James, and so they all thought It was a large white one, and the children agreed to decorate it with evergreens. It would hold all the people who were likely to come and many more.

During the week Uncle James set up the tent not far from the hotel and in one corner of it built a staging. He did not mind taking trouble for his beloved namesake, James Sanford Dunlee. The stage was made to look like a room in an old-fashioned house. It had a make-believe door and window and a make-believe fireplace with andirons and wood and shovel and tongs. There was a rag rug on the floor, and on the three-legged stand stood the hour-glass with candles in iron candlesticks. The fiddle-backed chairs were there and two hard "easy-chairs" and an old wooden "settle." Lucy and Bab said it looked "like somebody's house," and they wanted to go and live in it.

On the Saturday afternoon appointed the play had been well learned by the four actors. Everything being ready, this cosy little sitting-room was now shut off from view by a calico curtain which was stretched across the stage by long strings run through brass rings.

The play would begin at half-past two. Jimmy was dressed neatly in his very best clothes. He had a roll of paper and a pencil in one of his pockets and during the play he meant to add up the number of people present and find out how much money had been taken.

"But Jimmy-boy, it won't be very much," said Edith. "This is an empty town, and so queer too. Something may happen at the last minute that will spoil the whole thing."

She was right. Something did happen which no one could have foreseen. For an "empty" town Castle Cliff was famous for events.

As Jimmy left the hotel just after luncheon he overtook Nate Pollard and Joe Rolfe standing near a big sand bank, talking together earnestly.

"Come on, Jimmum," said Nate; "we've got a spade for you. We're going to dig a cave in the side of this bank."

"What's the use of a cave?"

"Why, for one thing, we can run into it in time of an earthquake."

"That's so," said Jimmy. "Or we could stay in and be cave-dwellers."

But as he took up the spade he chanced to look down at his new clothes. He had spoiled one nice suit already and had promised his mother he would be more careful of this one.

"Wait till I put on my old clothes, will you?"

Nate laughed and snapped his fingers. "We're in a hurry. I've got to be in the tent in half an hour. Go along, you little dude! We'll dig the cave without you."

The laugh cut Jimmy to the heart. And he had been learning to like Nate so well. A dude? Not he! Besides, what harm would dry sand do? It's "clean dirt."

Then all in a minute he thought of that wild journey on the roof. It had made a deeper impression upon him than any other event of his life.

"Poh! Am I going to dig dirt in my best clothes just because Nate Pollard laughs at me? I don't 'take stumps' any more; there's no sense in it, so there!"

And off he started, afraid to linger lest he should fall into temptation. Jimmy might be heedless, no doubt he often was; but when he really stopped to think, he always respected his mother's wishes and always kept his word to her.

This was the trait in Jimmy which marked him off as a highly bred little fellow. For let me tell you, boys, respect for your elders is the first point of high breeding all the world over.

Jimmy sauntered on slowly toward the door of the tent. There were a great many benches inside, but it was not time yet for the audience to arrive. Uncle James and Katharine and Edith were on the stage, and Aunt Vi was adding a few touches to Edith's dress.

"O dear," said Grandmamma Graymouse, "I hope I shan't forget my part. Tell me, Uncle James, do I look old enough?"

"You look too old to be alive," he answered; "fifty years older than I do, certainly! Mrs. Mehitable Whalen, are you my wife or my very great grandmamma?"

"But where's Nate Pollard?" Aunt Vi asked. "I told him to come early to rehearse."

"He said he'd be here in half an hour," said Jimmy. "He's off playing."

"I hope I shall not have to punish my young grandson," said Uncle James, solemnly, as he began to peel a sycamore switch.

Uncle James's name was now "Ichabod Whalen," and he and "Mehitable Whalen," his wife, were such droll objects in their old-fashioned clothes that they could not look at each other without laughing.

Their absent grandson, "Ezekiel Whalen" (or Nate Pollard), was a fine specimen of a boy of ancient times, and Aunt Vi had been much pleased with the way in which he acted his part. But where was he? Aunt Vi and the grandparents grew impatient. It was now half-past two; people were flocking into the tent; but the curtain could not rise, for nothing was yet to be seen of young Master "Ezekiel Whalen" and his small clothes and his cocked hat. The house was pretty well filled; really there were far more people than had been expected, Jimmy, with pencil and paper in hand, was figuring up the grown people and children, and multiplying these numbers by twenty-five and by fifteen. When he found that the sum amounted to nearly nine dollars he almost whistled for joy.

But all this while the audience was waiting. People looked around in surprise; the Dunlee family grew more and more anxious. Aunt Lucy pinched Bab and Bab pinched Aunt Lucy.

Suddenly there were loud voices at the entrance of the tent. The tent curtain was pushed aside violently, and Mr. Templeton and Mr. Rolfe rushed in exclaiming:--

"Two boys lost! All hands to the rescue!"

The people were on their feet in a moment and there was a grand rush for the outside. The panic, so it was said afterward, was about equal to "the little schoolma'am's earthquake."