Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net _Cottage on the Curve_ _By_ MARY LAMERS _Sketches by the Author_ [Illustration] The Bruce Publishing Company Milwaukee (Second Printing--1947) Copyright, 1945 By Mary Lamers Printed in the U. S. A. To the memory of my mother BESSIE MURRAY McGUIRE _Foreword_ This story was written in time of war, in the memory of peace. Once upon a time there were happy times like these. There were trips and steaks and tennis balls, and even double-decker ice-cream cones. But the children who played on the shores of Oak Lake have sailed away. In jungle heat they remember her cool depths. In the hot blare of battle they remember the quiet just as the moon rose over the tamarack swamp. Come back, long-legged little boys! Come back to the summer days we used to know. M. M. L. Summer, 1945. _Contents_ PAGE Foreword 7 CHAPTER 1. The Last Day of School 11 2. Who Peppered the Cake 26 3. The Purse in the Trash Pile 38 4. The Turtle Who Towed the Boat 51 5. Grandma Always Brought Presents 63 6. Buick the Detective 74 7. A Trip to Deerpath 94 8. The Fourth Was Full of Fun 104 9. Billy Battles the Storm 116 10. Janie Earns a Dollar 136 11. The Front Seat on the Bus 150 12. The Bear Who Loved Apple Pie 168 13. An Honest Reward 183 14. Dad Finds a Treasure 193 15. Good-by Summer 212 _Chapter One_ _The Last Day of School_ [Illustration] Jane Murray walked slowly down the wide corridor. It was the last day of school. Her desk was empty. For the first time since last September her locker stood neat and bare. Gone were the old gym socks, the forgotten rainhat that had been wedged under an old theme cover, the candy bar wrappers, and the umbrella with the split seam. Patsy and Dor had reached the street ahead of her and were screaming at the top of their lungs. âJanie, oh, Janie! Hurry! Weâre going to have an ice-cream cone.â Janie shook her head regretfully. âRun along with the others, my funny friends. I must go home and put a fresh dressing on Butchieâs paw.â They were off like race horses. âPerhaps I should have gone,â she thought. The back of her neck was just a little damp under the light brown curly mop. A cone or a swim. Oh boy! I could do with a swim right now, and with her head full of summer dreams she started off down the maple-shaded street. Springhill was a lovely old town in southern Wisconsin. The houses were set well back from the street. They were large and old-fashioned, with screened porches. Some of them had turrets running up to the third floor level. Janie had read of a famous architect who disapproved of such decorations. âInverted rutabagas,â he called them, but Janie didnât care. The turret on the Murray house was enchanted land. From its circular windows they could see all over town, and down the valley to the river. Once they found a gray squirrelâs nest up there, and on rainy days there was the parallel bar for doing stunts. âInverted rutabaga, my eye,â said Janie. âWhatâs a rutabaga, Janie,â said a small voice at her elbow. She jumped. âOh, Robin, itâs you. I must have been talking to myself. Itâs old age creeping on.â âHow old are you, Janie,â the small voice persisted. âIâm thirteen.â She picked up the afternoon paper with one hand, ruffled Robinâs hair with the other, and ran up her own front steps. âMom, oh Mom,â she called as the screen door slammed behind her. âSchoolâs out, and Iâm not even happy about it. Oh Mom, may I make some lemonade?â Mrs. Murray called from upstairs, âYes dear, make some for the boys while youâre at it, and donât spill any sugar on the floor.â The sugar, lemons, and ice cubes were assembled, but before Jane could finish there was an excited chirping, hopping, and rattling on the back porch. âOh Butch, you darling monkey! I almost forgot to fix that bandage.â She gathered the little furry fellow up in her arms. He was the adored pet of the youngest of Janeâs brothers, Davey. Janie could never forget that windy fall night two years ago when they first saw Butch. Daddy had been working on the case of an organ grinder who became involved in difficulties with the immigration authorities. All pleas failed and Mr. Calento made plans to return to his native Italy, but he couldnât take his monkey with him. Monkeys catch pneumonia easily, and an Atlantic voyage in the stormy month of October would have been dangerous to his health. With tears in his eyes Mr. Calento presented his pet to Daddy as part payment of his fee. What an uproar that was! Of course the children were enchanted, but Mom was aghast. âA monkey,â she cried. âMy goodness, Jim Murray, are you a lawyer or a zoo-keeper? Supposing your next client owns an elephant?â Daddy laughed and patted her shoulder. âDonât worry dear,â he said. âIf you donât want him weâll take him down to the zoo in the morning.â âThe zoo?â wailed Davey. âPlease donât take him to the zoo.â Mom was firm. âHis place is in the zoo,â she said. He would have been banished the very next day except that a quarantine had been placed on the zoo because of the illness of some of the larger animals, and no new animals were being admitted. One day led to the next and Butchie stayed on. Mom had to take care of him during the day when the children were at school, and she grew to love him so that by the time the quarantine was lifted the Murrays had a monkey, and that was that. Jane sat him on the porch sewing table, and ran in to heat the boric solution. He waited patiently, and extended his little paw in perfect trust. âOh, what a good monkey you can be,â murmured Janie as she fastened the fresh bandage. âYou could save yourself a lot of trouble, Butch, by keeping your paws off the screen door when the Murrays come thundering home.â âEeek Eeek,â chattered Butch, and his little nurse replied gravely, âYouâre welcome.â Mom came down the stairway just as Janie finished. âWhereâs all the lemonade Iâve been hearing about?â she asked. âIn a minute, Mom. Iâve been fixing Butchieâs paw.â They sat at the kitchen table and took a long drink of the delicious cold lemonade before either spoke. âWhatâs this about your not being happy, my child,â said Mom with a teasing glint in her eye. Janie put her glass down, and rested her cheek on one hand. âMom,â she replied, âI know youâre right about us staying home with Daddy this summer. I know he has a big case coming up in court, and that if you wouldnât be here to take care of him heâd stay up half the night working. He wouldnât eat the way heâs supposed to, and everything would go wrong. I know all these things, but on a warm day like this I just canât help wishing we could go to the lake like we always used to.â âAnd what would you say, daughter,â said Mom in the same teasing tone of voice. âWhat would you say if I told you that we could go to the lake this summer just as we always used to?â Janeâs eyes grew wide, âOh Mom, tell me when. Can Daddy come too? Tell me Mom. Oh, Mom, how wonderful!â Mrs. Murray took a deep breath and laughingly pushed her delighted daughter away. âWhat muscles,â she said. âMom, if youâre not serious, Iâll just die! I would so love to go to the lake. Iâve been thinking about it all afternoon. Blue skies, clear water, little robins singing.â In her happiness Jane waltzed around the kitchen, and Butch clapped his hands together happily from the back porch. Mrs. Murray laughed and rose to rinse out her lemonade glass. âI canât tell you any more about it now,â she continued, âbut when your father comes home and the boys are all gathered together, weâll get the story.â Janie knew her mother well enough to press her no further. Mom was funny. She had her moods. Sometimes, in the morning when they were all getting ready for school, she would whirl in and out among them dancing to the ballet music of Daddyâs early morning radio program. In her yellow sweater and faded blue denim skirt, with her hair done in short pig-tails, she was very gay, a real pal. But there was nothing gay about the look in her eye if sheâd spy a C on your report card. In the morning when Dad shaved he would sing at the top of his lungs while he chopped away at his whiskers, and any one who came near him was playfully anointed with his well-lathered brush. Daddy could be gay too but all this spring he had been distracted and busy. He often worked late at the office, and then heâd bring papers home and his light would burn far into the night. Janie remembered the night she couldnât sleep and went down to the kitchen for a glass of milk. There was a light in the library, and Daddy sat with papers strewn all over, his hair rumpled, and lines on his forehead making Venetian blinds of worry. âDaddy! Itâs almost one oâclock!â He looked up in surprise. âOh, hello there, puss. Why arenât you asleep?â âI came down for a glass of milk. I stubbed my toe playing soft ball in the gym, and it was hurting me a little. I woke up, and then I couldnât go back to sleep.â âWhat were you intending to do with the glass of milk, drink it, or bathe your injured toe?â âDaddy! What a silly thing to say! Drink it, of course. Shall I pour some for you?â âYes, by all means, but donât make any noise. If your mother hears us weâll both be spanked for staying up past our bedtime.â Janie brought two glasses of milk and sat down opposite her father at the desk. âDaddy, I wish you wouldnât work so hard. Mom worries about you, too. Couldnât you let that old case go if itâs such a bother?â âPerhaps I could if I had no one depending on me, but I have a wife and a dear family, and the man that this case concerns has a wife and family that he loves just as much as I love mine. Itâs my particular responsibility to finish this job, even if Iâd rather not.â He arose and came around to where she was sitting. âCome, my broken-toed beauty. Itâs high time you were asleep.â âWill you go to bed too?â âYes, Iâll go to bed too.â * * * * * For the most part, life in the house with the rutabaga top was happy and serene. There were no shadows in the large old-fashioned kitchen where Mom and Janie worked at preparing the evening meal. Crisp washed lettuce was taken from the refrigerator and tossed in a big wooden bowl. Noodle ring, with cheese and ham sauce, fresh string beans, corn-meal muffins, and hidden somewhere and smelling heavenly was a fresh-baked rhubarb pie. âYum, pie,â said Jane. âIs it because itâs the last day of school?â âYes,â said her mother, âa special celebration.â âDid you say pie?â asked ten year old James, suddenly appearing at the back door. Mom and Jane laughed for an answer, for there never was a boy with an appetite like James. He was tall and slim and inclined to be awkward. His clothes hung loosely on him. His hair, almost curly, was completely unmanageable. He had a quick, hot temper, a generous heart, and a lovely smile. As he stood there in the doorway, dirty and warm from the baseball lot, he gave his mother one of those quick rare smiles. He interrupted her unspoken greeting to say, âYes Mom, Iâll wash myself, and Iâll wash the back of my neck and my ears, and I wonât throw my towel on the floor.â Mom laughed and shook her head, and as Janie filled the water glasses she mused, âSometimes I think James is Momâs favorite, and then again perhaps itâs Bill. Thereâs so much pride in her eyes when she looks at Bill. Of course, Davey is the youngest, and she pets him a lot. Perhaps she loves him the best of all.â Quietly, Mom was there beside her putting the salad on the sideboard, and she bent and kissed the busy little waitress. âJanie, youâre a good girl. I donât know what Iâd do without you.â âLo and behold, there was that special, shining look. And this time it was for me,â thought the suddenly glowing Jane. âMom is funny. She must like each one of us best of all.â James was sent to fetch Davey who was playing next door with Robin. Bill came next. âSorry to be so long, Mom,â he said. âPete and I were swapping stamps, and I stopped at the playground on the way home to see how the ball game came out. Lincoln school beat Hawthorne, 5 to 2.â The last part of his sentence was muffled in a face towel. Bill was almost twelve, and no longer had to be told about washing his face and combing his hair, although he sometimes had to be reminded, ever so tactfully, about his neck. They waited for Daddy. Jane and Davey sat on the front steps where they could see far down the street. She read the comic page aloud to him, and her attention wandered. âAnd then what, Janie? What happened next?â Janie pulled her thoughts back to the funny strip, but she watched for Daddy out of one eye. Would he never come? At last the familiar green car turned in at the driveway, and the cry went up, âDaddyâs here! Daddyâs here!â Mom had tried to teach the children that they should wait until Daddy had his dinner and a look at the paper before they assailed him with their problems. âGive him a chance to catch his breath,â she used to say. âHe has to listen to other peopleâs troubles all day, and by evening heâs really very tired.â He didnât look tired at all when he came in. He wanted to know how everyone had spent the day. He kissed Mom and rubbed flour on Janieâs cheek. He picked up Davey and James at once to show how strong he was, and he admired a boat that Bill was carving. âCome to dinner,â called Mom, and they were all gathered around the table in a minute. Davey said âGrace.â He still needed practice with some of his prayers, and it gave him a feeling of importance to speak to God personally in the name of the family. There was a brisk clatter of knives and forks until they came to the dessert. By that time the rush of the day was left behind, and the quiet of the June evening seemed to find a place in the hearts of the lively Murray brood. Daddy was blowing smoke rings to amuse Mom, and Janie had almost forgotten that he had something up his sleeve, when he put out his cigarette and announced: âI have a plan for going to Oak Lake in case anyone is interested.â It came as a complete surprise to the boys, and they all talked at once. âPlease, children, please,â begged Mom. âOne at a time.â Daddy continued: âThe case Iâve been working on has been postponed until fall, and your mother and I think that weâll be able to go to the cottage as usual.â âWhat about you, Daddy? Will you be able to come with us?â âIâll come out for week-ends. Iâll have to stay in town during the week.â âWhat will we do about a car?â asked Billy. âYouâll need the car every day in town, wonât you?â âThatâs true,â said his father, âbut if Grandma and Aunt Claire come out for the summer we can use their car. Youâll need a car for shopping and for going to church on Sunday, although how youâll all squeeze into Aunt Claireâs car, I donât know.â âIâll sit on Grandmaâs lap,â said Davey. âI always used to, and I still could.â âIâll hang on the rear tire,â said Bill darting a look at Mom who said nothing, but her answering glance said as plain as day, âOh no, you wonât.â They talked and talked, and then Daddy pushed back his chair. âWill you youngsters please finish clearing off the table? There are some roses I want your mother to see.â James and Bill cleared the table while Janie washed the glasses and the silverware. It was Daveyâs job to dry the knives, forks, and spoons, and put them away. He was a good-natured little boy and he sang while he worked. If the song was lively he hurried in time with the music, but if the melody was slow and dreamy, so were his actions. Janie watched him dawdling through âOld Black Joe.â âTry âComing âRound The Mountainâ,â she advised, âor youâll be here all night.â The boys clattered along at their own rate, stopping every so often to argue or explain but in spite of it they finished and Jane stacked the plates while the boys ran out into the back yard to play ball. A curving, enclosed stairway ran from the kitchen to the second floor. The oak treads were worn from the tired tread of maid-servants of the past, but Janieâs limber young legs flew up to the second floor two steps at a time, and then down the hall to her room. Pulling and tugging, she managed to open the bottom drawer of the built-in dresser way at the back of her clothes closet. There they were, her lake clothes. She tried on some of them. They felt small and light after wearing the heavy sweaters and woolen skirts during a Wisconsin spring. She stretched out across her bed and listened to the gentle evening sounds of Springhill. âThis turned out to be a very nice day after all,â she thought. âTomorrow I must ask Mom about some new playsuits. Iâll need some blue jeans for fishing down at the dam with the boys. I wonder if that old pickerel is still there; this year Iâll surely catch him.â Billy came pounding up the front stairs to his room looking for a catching mitt, and she called, âBilly, letâs go on an all day boat trip down the canal this summer and really explore it.â Flushed from play, Billy stood in the doorway between their rooms. He was the oldest Murray boy, and the natural leader in all their games and adventures. Almost as tall as Janie, he was so sturdily built, that when ever they played circus he was always the strong man. He had blue eyes and fat cheeks and pin-point freckles scattered like the milky way across his upturned nose. James would spend hours with a book, but Bill liked people and people liked Bill. âNo,â he said. âThe last time we wanted to take an all day boat trip down the canal Davey fell in head first and James got into a mess of poison ivy. Mom said we couldnât go again. Iâd like to build a diving helmet so that I could find treasures on the bottom of the lake, and Iâd like to have a hay ride for a birthday party.â âBirthday party? But your birthday....â âYes, I know, my birthday is on Christmas eve, and every one is so excited about Christmas that I never have a real party like other kids do, so sometime Iâm going to have a hay ride with a man to play the concertina and cases and cases of pop.â Jane laughed, but she looked at her brother affectionately. âWhen Iâm a millionaire,â she said, âIâll take you for a hay ride every summer night. Isnât it funny,â she continued, âhow we plan what weâre going to do during the summer, and we never quite do what we plan? Usually something much more exciting happens. I wonder what it will be this year?â _Chapter Two_ _Who Peppered the Cake_ [Illustration] Janie lay in bed enjoying the grand feeling of the first day of vacation. Doves circled in and out of the poplar hedge across the street. It was still early. The rest of the family was asleep, but lying in bed was a waste of time. Slipping into a playsuit, she tiptoed down the back stairs and into the kitchen. Butchie set up a delighted âchee--cheeâ at the sight of her, and she crossed to the porch door and let him in. The organ-grinder man had taught Butch to eat his meals sitting at a little table, and there he was perched with a bib around his neck while Jane warmed his porridge. He had some difficulty managing his spoon while he was eating, but Janie encouraged him, âNever you mind, Butch. All two-year olds spill a little. Youâre doing wonderfully well. Keep it up, Butchie, old boy.â When the porridge dish was empty he had a mug of warmed milk. That was easy. He grasped the mug firmly in his paws and drank the milk in dainty little sips. As a special reward Janie gave him half a banana. He was delighted. He talked monkey language while he ate, and now and then heâd offer some to Janie, but she politely refused. The rest of the family was awake by now, and she hurried to set the table on the back porch for a surprise for Mom. It was a beautiful morning. The garden was brilliant with iris, day-lilies, and oriental poppies, and the tall old lilac trees were sweet with bloom. After breakfast the boys sat on the front steps waiting for the mailman. They were always sending out for approval sheets of stamps, and theyâd shade their eyes waiting for the mailman like sea captains of old waiting for their ships to come in. Janie was impatient. âMom,â she said. â_When_ can we go to the lake? Could we go out next week-end, or will we have to wait until the end of June when Aunt Claireâs school is out?â Mom raised her eyebrows and smiled a smug little smile. âThatâs part of the surprise,â she said. âWeâre leaving today. Iâve been hoping we could go, and Iâve been getting things ready for the past week.â The rest of the day was a whirlwind of busy arms and legs and suitcases and paper boxes. âNow, letâs see,â said Mom with a list in her hand. âI mustnât forget anything. I must go to the drug store, the bank, and the postoffice, and, oh yes, the library.â Billy and James packed the trunk of the car. Sheets and towels were stacked neatly in paper cartons. There were boxes of slacks, shirts, and swimming trunks, pillows and quilts, and cotton bed spreads. âIâll bring my first-aid box,â said Bill, and that gave James an idea. He came downstairs with his entire stamp collection piled like the leaning Tower of Pisa in his arms. Janie cocked her chin to one side and put her fists on her hips. âYou know that Mom wonât let you bring all that junk along.â âJunk!â exclaimed James indignantly. âThese are my duplicates. Iâm going to sort them out this summer.â He set the stack down carefully on the back porch, and the top-most box toppled over and spilled countless little bright-colored squares all over the floor. James scooped them all up in a hurry, and tucked the boxes, books, and albums into whatever space he could find in the rear of the car. When Mom returned from her shopping they went down into the cool basement and carefully packed what was left of the home-preserved fruits and vegetables. âBring a lot of pickles,â said Davey. âLots and lots of pickles.â By the middle of the afternoon everything was ready. Mom went upstairs for a bath and fresh clothes, and Janie decided to surprise her. They were going to have a picnic supper, and she felt that it should be something special to celebrate the occasion. She paged through the cook books and the recipe files and lost a little of her courage. Iâd better limit myself to a dessert, she thought. The last time I tried a whole meal it didnât turn out so well. A very handsome three-layer cake took her eye, and she assembled all her ingredients, and then gathered together all the bowls, pans, and spoons she would need. Davey walked in carrying Butch. Janie dusted the flour off her hands, and raised her eyebrows in an expression of true big-sister superiority. âI thought, Davey,â she said, âthat Mom wanted you to keep Butch outside today.â Davey looked plaintive. âI know,â he grumbled, âbut we want to play hide-and-go-seek, and he always runs to where Iâm hiding, and then Iâm always âitâ.â Janie giggled. âOkay, Davey. Leave him here. Iâll take care of him.â Butch was very interested in the cake baking, but Janie discouraged him. She ordered him out on the back porch. She stamped her foot at him and shoved him, but heâd only come back again. He watched everything she did, and when she bent over to light the oven, he saw his golden opportunity. He jumped up on the table and added his contribution to the cake. He had watched Janie shake a little of this and a little of that into the cake, so he picked up a shaker marked PEPPER and looked at her out of his beady eyes. She was still fussing with the oven, so he quickly shook the can into the cake batter and hurried back to his post of exile at the kitchen door. With this piece of mischief out of the way, he was content to sit and watch. After the shining flour sifter and the fascinating egg beater had been put away, he ran in to Momâs chair in the library, and peered over her shoulder offering advice as she wrote letters. Mom bounced him in a hurry. âGo away, you heathenish creature, or Iâll give you to the zoo.â Jane shook her head and laughed. âYou certainly are a problem, Butch. Weâve never had a two year old who caused so much commotion.â âOr was so much fun,â added Mom. Janie ran down the street to say good-by to Dor, and when she got back the back porch was half filled with suitcases, packing boxes, bundles of all descriptions, and even house plants. âGoodness, Mom,â exclaimed Janie. âWhere are we going to put all this stuff? Where will _we_ sit?â âDaddyâs going to hire a trailer for this trip, dear. Now donât forget to remind me to turn off all the lights, and donât letâs forget about this big basket. Itâs our supper.â Billy whistled. âOh boy! Two picnics in one day.â Butch was just as excited as the children. He hopped from Davey to James and from Billy to Jane. He had his own suitcase. It was an old doll suitcase that used to belong to Jane. Davey had packed it with Butchieâs few little toys and belongings. There was a whistle, a top, a bellboyâs hat, and a toothbrush. You, perhaps, never heard of a monkey with a toothbrush, but Butchie imitated the boys, and his toothbrush was his especial pride. âTake it easy, old fella,â said Bill. âWe wonât leave you behind.â âChee--chee,â said Butch, as if he meant: âWith this scatterbrain family, Iâm taking no chances.â A little after five oâclock Daddy came down the drive with a bright yellow trailer attached to the car, and for the next half an hour everyone worked like a beaver. Daddy superintended the loading, and Mom checked and rechecked the house and garage, the lights, the faucets, the windows, and the doors. At last everything was ready, and they rolled down the driveway and into the street. They passed through the shopping center and over the river and up the hill to the county buildings. The stop light turned green and they turned out on the road that led to Oak Lake. The distance was only about twenty-five miles, and they usually whisked out there in no time, but with their heavy load they traveled along at a leisurely rate, singing as they went. The Murrays always sang as they drove. They sang as easily as the birds on the telephone wires, going from one old favorite to the other. They liked to sing rounds, like âThree Blind Miceâ and âO The Bull Frog on the Bank.â Someone always started âThe Quilting Party,â and Daddy could be counted on for âSwing Low Sweet Chariot.â While they warbled along the highway Butch carefully untied Janeâs hair ribbon, and placed it on Billyâs head. Now they were coming to a hill that the Murray children always waited for, because far down at the left was a small lake rimmed with cattails and spruce trees. Once, long ago, Janie had seen a heron, startled, fly off on his great brown wings, and sometimes in spring it was the resting place for northern bound flocks of loudly crying wild geese. Tonight it lay there, rose colored in the evening light, like a fallen maple leaf. âOur little lake,â said Janie, softly. âI wonder if it has a name.â Every foot of the way was familiar. The fox farm, the barn they had seen collapse the night of the big wind, the farm that always had such fat little pigs, and then one more hill and the road turned off to the lake. Daddy drove carefully off the main highway onto the graveled road. They passed the haunted house and turned at the canal, went around the curve and there sparkling in the sunset, lay beautiful Oak Lake. The planks of the short bridge at the canal rattled under them, and from there they could see the cottage. There was an iron fence with large stone posts at the gate, and as the car stopped all the children seemed to escape at once. Mom unlocked the door while Dad lowered the awnings, and then they worked quickly to unload the trailer. Billy stopped with a carton in his arms. âYou know, Dad,â he said. âI saw a newsreel once of some coolies unloading a ship. They formed a long line and passed the stuff from one to the other. Why donât we do that? We could be finished sooner.â Dad knew that they never minded work if it seemed like a game, so a relay it was. Daddy stood at the trailer and Mom was at the end of the line. When everything was in, Mom called, âWho wants a swim before supper?â âI do.â âI do.â âIâm so hungry I could eat a raw fish.â âPlease donât.â âIâm so hungry I could eat grass.â While the boys talked, Janie raced into her swimming suit. She was the first one ready, and called over the top of the bath house partition: âLast one in is a rotten egg!â âSplash!â âSplash!â âSplash!â âSplash!â Then a big splash for Mom and a bigger splash for Dad, and the Murrays were in for the first swim of the season. The water was cooler than they expected. Mom called it cold, and Dad called it bracing. Far over on the western shore the sun went down behind the purple woods, and the swallows dipped close to the water and then up again. âLook at the swallows,â called James. âTheyâre dive bombing.â âTheyâre dive bombing, all right,â said Daddy, âbut their targets are only mosquitoes.â âLast one out is a bum,â called Mom, and her wet brood followed her out like ducklings follow the mother duck. The contents of the picnic baskets were spread on the long table, and Janieâs cake was the center of attention. It was covered with pale pink frosting, and she had garnished the edge of the plate with pansies and maiden hair fern. They waited expectantly while Janie cut slices for Mom and Dad and the boys and a good sized slice for herself. Mom took the first bite. âMâmâm, most interesting flavor. What seasoning did you use?â Daddy looked puzzled and took a second bite. âThereâs something different about this cake, Janie. I canât quite place it.â Janie tasted it. âItâs pepper,â she cried. âIt tastes like pepper.â She glanced immediately at Butch, and squinted her eyes in suspicion. âIf I hadnât watched you every minute of the time, I would suspect....â She didnât finish her sentence. Butchie, a picture of innocence, was fast asleep. The boys carried their paper plates down to the lake front and built a fire with them. âIâm a heap big Indian chief,â chanted Davey. He danced around and around the blaze. âIndians used to dance here a hundred years ago,â said Jane. âI know, because we found arrowheads. Do you remember, Billy, when the farmer uncovered all those wonderful Indian relics while he was plowing? The level of the lake was higher then. They must have had happy celebrations just like we do now, and they must have loved this part of the country very much. Just think how filled the lake must have been with fish, and the woods over there on the western shore were filled with deer and rabbits and pheasants, and....â âBears,â interrupted James. âBig brown bears. Here comes Dad. Letâs ask him to tell us a story about the Indians who used to live here.â Dad sat down cross-legged before the dying fire and told them a long story about an Indian who caught a pickerel who could talk. The story went on and on until it was quite dark and the stars came out. Mom came down and chased them off to bed. âThereâs going to be a big day tomorrow,â she said. âWe have to get the weeds out of the garden.â Jane came back to the porch after she was ready for bed, and found Mom reading. âWould you like a sandwich,â she asked. âThe failure of my cake left me hungry.â âMâm,â said Mom, without looking up. âMake one for me too, Petunia,â said Dad. The kitchen seemed warm, and as Janie opened the window, a robin flew away. âOur friend is back,â called Jane. âThat same robin has been making her nest here on the window sill for a long time now. Weâll have to be careful about opening the window. She doesnât like to be disturbed.â She finished her sandwiches and carried them back to the porch. âCould I have Katy visit me this year, Mom?â âYes, Janie. Iâll ask Katyâs mother the next time I see her. Perhaps she can come out to spend the Fourth of July with us. Does that settle all your problems?â âYes, Mom, and Iâm so sleepy I can hardly stay awake another minute. Good night Daddy. Goodnight Mom. Oh, but itâs nice to be at the lake again.â _Chapter Three_ _The Purse in the Trash Pile_ [Illustration] It was the twelfth of June. Everyone else was asleep, so Janie dressed quietly and went out into the garden to hoe while it was still cool. The dew was on the grass, and she surprised a fat little rabbit eating clover. She laughed. He looked so silly when he ran, with his white dab of a tail. The garden was across the road and way at the back of the lot. It was pleasant there. You could see far off across the fields as far as the swamp where the tamaracks grew. Janie had never been as far as that swamp. Daddy said it was like a jungle. The trees grew so thick you could hardly walk through it, and there were snakes and even quicksand. It looked very pretty this morning in the soft light. The tamaracks were like soft green fur. Janie hoed and weeded and worked away at her share of the garden. After a while Billy came across the road. âHi, Bill,â she called. âHurry over here. I have an idea.â He came on the bound, and she laughed to see him run. Heâs like that little rabbit I saw a while ago, she thought. Heâs good natured and he has fat cheeks. âWhatâs your idea, Jane?â demanded Bill. âIâve been out here toiling in the corn like old black Joe while you were asleep, and now Iâm all tuckered out. Sit down here under this tree, and Iâll tell you all about it. You see that old trash heap there in the next lot? Well, when Mrs. Saunders went back to Chicago last fall, she cleaned house, and she threw away a lot of really good junk. She had a cleaning woman helping her, and they tossed out stuff by the bushel basket. Mom wouldnât let me take any of it then, because she said we had enough junk of our own to clean up, but Iâd just like to poke around and see if thereâs anything there we could use.â âWhat could we do with it?â asked Billy. âDonât you remember the time we found the wheels and made a wagon?â âYes, but there were only three wheels, so it turned out to be an airplane.â âYes, and do you remember the time we found the clock, and how Davey monkeyed with it for weeks, and then one night when we were all asleep it started to strike, and scared us half to death?â Billy laughed and shook his head. âPoor old clock,â he said. âIt struck twenty times in a row, and then it never ticked again.â They started back down to the cottage for breakfast. There were pancakes and syrup, and cold milk, and a big bowl of fresh strawberries. They ate at a long narrow table placed in front of the open windows at the west end of the porch. Old-fashioned moss roses were in bloom beneath the windows. The lake lay out in front of them, smooth and blue, and a family of tiny wild canaries were very busy with a piece of string in the willow tree. After breakfast Janie made her bed, and then walked out in the back yard again. The boys were doing their share of the gardening, and with her eyes closed Janie could have guessed what was going on. Any strong interest in gardening usually lasted until a worm was turned over, and then someone would say, âLetâs go fishing.â Whatever cultivation the garden got from there on was accidental. The pattern was slightly different this morning. Davey turned over a flat stepping stone, and found part of an ant colony. He called, âHey, fellows, look at this,â and hoeing was cheerfully suspended while the boys traced the progress of the ants by turning over stone after stone in the garden path. They lay flat on their stomachs, marveling at the intricate tunnels, and the clever way the little creatures maneuvered loads much larger than themselves. Janie felt very virtuous, with her share of the weeding finished. âNow,â she said. âIf you boys would work as hard as those ants do, weâd have a beautiful garden.â Billy rolled on his back and grinned lazily as he squinted up at the sun. âAw,â he said, âitâs too hot to work. Letâs go swimming.â The four children trailed down through the front yard toward the bathhouse. âOh, Mom,â called Janie. âDo you want to come swimming with us?â Mom came to the screen door. Her hair was tied up in a turban, and she had work gloves on her hands and smudges on her face. âLook at me,â she said. âIâve been waxing floors, and I donât have enough ambition left to swim as far as the raft. Iâll sit on the beach and play lifeguard.â The boys splashed noisily off in the row boat, but Janie walked out to the raft. On a quiet day like this you could see all sorts of interesting things in the water. A large school of minnows swam ahead of her as she waded. There were clams on the floor of the lake, and colored rocks. Daddy said that some of these rocks had the imprint of tropical plants, fernlike tracings from the time when the world was still being made. There were turtles sometimes, but no sign of them this morning. Janie swam the rest of the way out to the raft, and then stretched out in the sun and watched her brothers. The sun felt warm on her back. She waved at Mom on the beach, and then ran to the edge of the raft and dove into the cool water. They swam around for a short while more, and then headed for shore. While they ate lunch Billy told Mom about the junk pile in the back lot. âI canât think of any reason why you canât go over there, if youâre careful not to get hurt,â she said. âMrs. Saunders surely wouldnât mind getting rid of some of that trash pile. The only thing is that you must be careful of rusty wire and broken glass, and things like that.â âWeâll be careful, Mom,â they promised. After lunch Janie helped Mom with the dishes, and the boys started off for the back yard. They wore Daddyâs cotton work gloves, and James carried a long stick for prodding around. Mom said that it wouldnât be a very good place for Butch, so he stayed on the porch. The first thing that Billy dragged out was the leather-covered seat from an old sofa. âThis will be great for landing on when we high jump,â he said. James was overjoyed when he found a large assortment of old medicine bottles. âIâm going to wash these out,â he said, âand use them for my experiments.â James was always putting strange things together, and shaking them up in a bottle with varying results. Sometimes the cork would blow off, and the stuff would blow all over the room. Sometimes the magic brew would be forgotten, and it would stand around in the heat until Mom would dump it out gingerly with one hand while she held her nose tight shut with the other. Once he put a mixture of unknown chemicals together, and some of it spilled on the floor. All the varnish came off. The spot is still there, covered up with a rug. Mom was really provoked that time, but James always felt that that was one of his best combinations. He piled the empty bottles into a basket and whistled happily while he worked. Davey collected just like a crow. There was nothing logical in the way he gathered his treasures. Just now he had found the remains of an old parlor lamp, and he was sitting in the grass, taking it apart, âto fix it.â Mom smiled to see him so absorbed, and she shook her head. âIâll be shaking bits of that old lamp out of his trouser pockets for the next two weeks,â she said. Then she waved at Billy and James and called: âI think youâre all wonderful. Carry on while I find some bean poles.â Jane walked over to the junk pile and looked around. There certainly was an interesting assortment, but what was that noise? Billy heard it at the same time, and stopped working. It was Butch, chattering and running around in the tall grass. âButchie, youâll cut your paws. Come, Butchie, come back to me,â called Davey. The little monkey thought that the children were playing with him, and he climbed up on the junk pile. Just as Billy reached down to pick him up, he stuck his paw down among some old dried leaves and picked up a small leather purse. Then, with a shriek and a scurry, he was off again. âButch, you naughty monkey, what did you find? Come here, Butch,â called Bill. Butch was delighted with his prize. He raced off to the little cottage, and there he crawled under the porch, where he buried his loot. He came back to the children clapping his paws together in great satisfaction. Davey picked him up, and carried him back to the cottage porch. âThis time be sure and lock the screen door,â called Billy. âWhat do you suppose he found in that purse?â said Jane. âOh, it was just some old junk.â âNo, it wasnât old. It was new. I saw it. It was a good purse, and it was filled with something.â Billy didnât answer. He stood there looking puzzled, like a fat-cheeked question mark. âI donât get you, Janie.â âJust the same, Bill, I wish that Butch hadnât taken the trouble to hide it. Do you suppose we could find where he buried it?â Billy didnât look so puzzled any more. âOf course we could find it. Butch never buries anything very deep. He just makes a shallow hole, and covers it over loosely with leaves and grass and stuff. I tell you what letâs do. Letâs go down and get Butch, and send him under the little cottage. Weâll tell him to fetch it back for us.â Jane said: âAll right, Billy. We can try it, but I doubt if it will work. I love Butch. I think heâs clever and cute, but heâs so perverse that if he thought we really wanted him to do one thing, heâd do another.â They walked down to the cottage together and found Butch playing the piano. He was delighted to see them so soon after he had been banished, and he seemed to listen very carefully while Billy explained what they wanted him to do. âYou go back under the little cottage,â said Bill, âand bring us the purse you found.â He gave him a playful little push, and then brother and sister lay flat on the grass, watching to see how he would obey their instructions. He made straight for the hiding place, dug for a moment, and then dragged forth the purse. He held it up for their delighted applause. âGood work, Butchie.â âGood monkey!â Even as they spoke there was a wild uproar, and Buick, the neighborâs dog appeared at the other side of the cottage. He was barking with all the fury that the sight of the monkey always aroused in him. Butch grabbed his prize to his chest, and raced for the porch pillars. He was up as fast as you could call his name. Once off the ground, he was safe from Buickâs angry barking. He put his purse in a safe place, and then leaned over the porch roof to see what was going on. When the children would beg him to come down he would place both paws over his heart, and roll his eyes, as if to say, âCanât you see that this black, short-legged, bewhiskered monster would tear me to shreds?â The next minute he would wave his little red shirt like a bullfighter at the dog, and grin and prance in glee from his safe perch. Mom appeared to find out what all the shouting and barking was about. She smiled at Butchieâs predicament, and told Bill to quiet Buick and take him home. âOkay, Mom. Then Iâll get a ladder and go up and rescue Butch.â âNo, whatever you do, donât go up on that roof,â said Mrs. Murray seriously. âThereâs a loose wire up there that could give you a very bad shock. If Daddy is able to come out this week-end, heâll go up there and repair it, but in the meantime, donât any of you go near it.â Janieâs face fell. She knew what Mom said was true. There was danger of a shock if they crawled up there, but what about the purse? Now theyâd have to wait until Saturday to get it. As soon as Billy led Buick away, Butch shinneyed down the porch pillar and Jane carried him to the big cottage. Mom greeted her with some good news. âI expect Grandma and Aunt Claire out here one of these days, perhaps tomorrow. Weâll have to air out the little cottage, and get it ready for them.â The children were glad. Grandma was a great favorite. She was one of those rare persons who had energy and enthusiasm to spare, and though her curly hair was white, and her knees were a bit stiff, she knew all kinds of tricks
{'title': 'Cottage on the Curve by Mary Lamers', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}