We are filled with admiration for you that you should have thought of a garden. Have you looked into the matter of chickens? I remember when we have boarded in the country chickens were what we and all the other boarders clamored for. I want to have fried chicken on my menu that I am to learn to cook, but they are so terribly high now in town that I shall have to put in a subst.i.tute and learn how to fry chickens when they get cheaper, which they will surely do later on.

Dear Cousin Lizzie, who has been kindness itself, is to take us to her home after this week, where we will stay until we go to the mountains. It is so good of her to go with us. I just know she hates it and we must all of us try to make things as easy for her as possible. Will the cabin be comfortable? When the other things are freighted, I am going to send a little iron bed with a good mattress, also an easy chair for her to be comfortable in.

Please remember me to Mr. Tinsley. All the girls send messages to both of you.

Very sincerely, DOUGLAS CARTER.

From Mrs. Carter to her children.

My darling children:

I am writing this on the steamer but expect to mail it at Bermuda.

You are in my thoughts every moment, but my dreams of you are so sweet and peaceful that somehow I feel that you are all right. I know you are anxious about your beloved father and I am very happy to tell you that he is much better. It seems that every day puts new life in him. At first he lay so quiet and slept so much that a strange dread filled my heart. The young surgeon on board, who is a friend of Dr. Wright, a.s.sured me that sleep was the best thing for him, but while he slept, I would get so lonely that I could hardly stand it. I had time to think much of what a poor wife I have been to him and foolish mother to all of you. I have not worried him with my grievance against myself, however, and I am not going to worry you, but am going to be less selfish with him and may even be stricter with you. He lets me wait on him now and he thinks it is a great joke to lie still and ask me to bring water or to fill his pipe or do something equally easy.

Sometimes he worries about his business, but I won't let him talk about it. He thinks he hasn't any money left, but of course I know that is nonsense. Dr. Wright told me he would look after you girls and see that you were well taken care of. As for money,--why, you don't need much cash and our credit at the shops is perfectly good, and you can get what you need. If you summer in the mountains, which is what Dr. Wright hinted you might do, you must all of you have plenty of little afternoon frocks. I hate to see girls at the springs wear the same clothes morning and afternoon. Don't be dowdy, I pray of you.

You had better take Susan wherever you go so she can look after Bobby, who is too large for a nurse, I know, but who needs much attention. Susan can look after your clothes, too, and do up your lace collars and keep your boots cleaned. Keep the other servants in town on full pay and be sure that they have plenty of provisions. I think nothing is so horrid as the habit some persons have of letting servants shift for themselves while they are off enjoying themselves at the springs.

I am hoping for letters when we land at Bermuda. I am hungry for news of all of you. Your poor father talks a great deal of you and wants to go over incidents of your childhood. He says he is relying on your good sense to keep you from harm until we return.

We both of us liked Dr. Wright very much,--at least, your father liked him. I was too afraid of him to call it liking but I trusted him implicitly, and now that your father is so much better, I know that his treatment was exactly the right thing. This young surgeon on board says that Dr. Wright is one of the very finest young men in the profession and his friends expect great things of him.

Our quarters are very comfortable and, strange to say, although the food is far from dainty, I am enjoying it very much. It is well cooked and everything is spotlessly clean. They have room for only thirty pa.s.sengers on this boat as it is entirely given up to freight. This young surgeon has accepted a position on the boat so he can have time to do some writing he is deep in.

It is a very lazy, peaceful life and somehow I feel that your father and I have always been on this boat and that all the rest of it is a dream--even my dear children are just dream children. I believe that is the state of mind that Dr. Wright wanted your father to attain. I think he has attained it, too. He worries less and less and will lie for hours in his deck chair watching the sailors at work, seemingly with no care in the world.

Tell my dear little Bobby he must be very good and must mind all his sisters, even Lucy. There is no sc.r.a.p of news too small to interest us and you must tell us what you are doing and all the doings of your friends. Give our kindest regards to all the servants and tell them I know they are taking good care of you in our absence.

Good by, my darlings, Your MOTHER.

Bobby to his father.

richmond, vA.

Dere farther?

i am sho mising U. These here gurls is sech tickular feblemales they Dont let a feller git no durt on him atall. I is printin this my silf but arsker is tellin me how to spil them Few wourds what i aint come tow yit in my book, dr Right is awl right wich is a joak. he has reglar ingauged me as his shover to hole out my arum whin we gose Round cornders. also to set in his cyar an keep the big hudlams from Swipang it. They has bin mutch trubble in richmond latly becuze of swipars. They jes takes cyars and joy riders in them and leaves them in some Dish in the subbubs? whitch gose tow show they is jes half way bunglars or robers. Plese tell my m.u.t.h.e.r that i aint never seed any lady yet what is so nice as she Is. I helped dr. Right mend a tior yestiddy. it war a puctuashun an speakin of them things I hope you and m.u.t.h.e.r is noticing how i am a usin punctuashuns in my letter? sumtime i Am goin to make a joak to dr. Right bout that whin he runs over a broaken botle, i aint quiet sho how i will uze it but i can bring it in sumhow. Did you all no that we air po now!

i is goin to dress in ovarawls and aint never goin to wash no more when onct we gits in the mauntings. they is a boy up there what never washis an lewis Somevil say they is a cow up thair what gives choclid. whineva that nice boy milks. Helen bernt her thum tryin to brile a stake an lucy had to bern hern to. boath of them bernt the stake awlso. Dugles saiz i have rit enuf but i still have mutch to tel. i am very good when i am a slep an when dr. Right lets me be his siztant. he is bout the nisest man i ever seed but helen saiz he looks like a man she can mak with a Hatchet. i done tole him what she saiz an he got right redd an sed he was bliged to my fare sister. I awlso tole helen what he sed an that wuz when she bernt her thum. No more from me at presence,

bobbY.

From Gwen to Teacher.

Greendale, Va.

May --, 19--.

My dear Teacher:

At first, I missed the school so much that I felt as though I could hardly stand to have you away for four long months. Now I am so busy that it is growing much easier for me. Even Josh says he misses you, too, but I think he is very happy in not having to bathe. I make him say some lessons to me every day and practice his penmanship.

Some gentlemen from Richmond, the capital of the state, situated on the James, are now building a camp on the land that my father at one time owned. They have engaged Josh and me to serve in the capacity of cook and gardener. I, of course, am the cook. I find I can apply the knowledge that you have imparted to me at school, and the young gentlemen are very kind in praising my culinary efforts. I learned that word from Mr. Somerville who used it quite often and then I looked it up in my school dictionary and now have added it to my vocabulary.

At first, I felt almost faint when I had to go in the cabin where Father and I used to live, but it was necessary if I was going to do anything for these young gentlemen, and now the horror of the cabin has pa.s.sed from me. I believe I would not even mind being there at night, but Josh says he is afraid of haunts. Of course he expresses himself as "feard er hants." Josh distresses me because he will not try to speak proper English. He is so good except for not washing and saying we uns, etc.

I try not to be critical of my surroundings, remembering as I ever must, how good Aunt Mandy and Josh have been to me, because even before Father died Aunt Mandy was the only woman I could remember who had ever been loving to me. I do wish they liked to wash more than they do, though. I try to keep Aunt Mandy's cabin clean and she likes it now that she does not have to do it herself. I set the table carefully, too, and she likes the flowers I put in the centre.

I think Aunt Mandy would have been cultured if she had ever had the chance. She loves beautiful things like sunsets and distant mountains.

I think Mr. Somerville and Mr. Bill Tinsley like beautiful things, too, but they are like Josh in some respects. I believe Josh would just as soon have some one see him cry as to come right out and say he was really admiring a view. These young gentlemen don't mind saying girls are pretty, in fact, they are quite frank about saying they are even beautiful and have long discussions about which young lady is the most beautiful of some sisters, the Misses Carter, who are coming up here to be the mistresses of this camp. I am very eagerly awaiting their arrival. I am to be employed regularly by them, so Mr. Somerville has just informed me, and I am going to make a great deal of money, enough to enable me to buy the books I need and have some warm clothes for next winter and to pay for my schooling. I appreciate the kindness of the Mission School in giving me my tuition so far, and now I am extremely happy that I will be able to pay something, and that will give the chance to some other child in the mountains to get an education. The young ladies are to give me ten dollars a month for four months. Don't you consider this a rare opportunity? Josh and Josephus are also employed by the month.

I am afraid that my letter is composed in a stilted manner. You remember that is the complaint you have always made in my compositions, but I find it impossible to be free and easy in my writing.

Very sincerely and affectionately, GWENDOLIN BROWN.

CHAPTER X.

OFF FOR THE MOUNTAINS.

On the train at last and headed for the mountains!

That month of preparation had been about the busiest in the lives of the Carter girls. Douglas had graduated at school and taken her examinations for college, besides being the head and guiding star of the family. Her father's burden seemed to have fallen on her young shoulders; everything was brought to her to decide. Helen was fully capable of taking the initiative but her extravagant tendencies were constantly cropping up, and Douglas was afraid to give her free rein for fear she would overturn them in a ditch of debt.

The letter from their mother had been unfortunate in a measure since it had but strengthened Helen's ideas on what was suitable in the way of clothes. She wanted to plunge into the extravagance of outing suits and pig-skin shoes and all kinds of extremely attractive camping get-ups advertised in New York papers. Douglas was firm, however, and Helen was forced to content herself with a love of a corduroy skirt, cold gravy in color, with sport pockets and smoked pearl b.u.t.tons. Lucy had pouted a whole day because she could not have one, too, just like it.

Nan was a great comfort to Douglas as she was fully sensible of the importance of their not charging anything, no matter how small, so that when their father did recover he would not have debts awaiting him. The only trouble about Nan was she was so often in a dream, and her memory was not to be depended upon. With all the good intentions in the world she would forget to deliver a most important message, or would promise and mean to attend to something and then lose herself in a book of poetry and forget it absolutely.

Lucy was gay and bright and very useful when it came to running errands.

Her only trouble was the constant sparring with Helen, whom she secretly admired more than any one in the world.

Master Bobby had spent a blissful month of "shoving" for Dr. Wright. Dr.

Wright had a theory that all children were naturally good and that when they were seemingly naughty it was only because they were not sufficiently occupied.

"Give the smallest child some real responsibility and he is sure to be worthy of it. If their brains and hands and feet are busy with something that they feel is worth while, children are sure to be happy." Bobby had sat in his car a half hour at a time, while the doctor was busy with patients, perfectly happy and good, contenting himself with playing chauffeur. He would occasionally toot the horn just to let the pa.s.ser-by understand that he was on the job.

The beloved home had been put in apple pie order and handed over to the poor, rich fugitives from the war zone. The kind old cook had bidden them a tearful farewell and betaken herself to her new place after careful admonishings of her pupil, Helen, not to let n.o.body 'suade her that any new fangled yeast is so good as tater yeast.

The real fun in the venture was buying the provisions and necessary camping outfits. That was money that must be spent and they could do it with a clear conscience. The lists were written and rewritten and revised a score of times until they could not think of a single thing that had been left out. The freight was sent off several days ahead of them to give poor Cousin Lizzie's bed time to get there before them.

Poor Cousin Lizzie, indeed! She was brave about the undertaking up to the time of starting, but when she was handed into the common coach, there being no parlor car on that morning train, she almost gave up.

Nothing but the memory of old Cousin Robert Carter's kindness to her mother sustained her.

"A good man leaveth an inheritance to his children's children," she muttered as she sank on the dusty, dingy cushions of the very common, common day coach. "That is surely what old Cousin Robert Carter did. I have not ridden in such a coach for more than thirty years, I am sure.

Why was this train chosen? There must be good trains running to the mountains that have chair cars."