Jimmy, Lucy, and All | Page 5

they still wanted to stare; and not being able to remember
her name they spoke of her as "the knitting-woman."
"Look, Lucy," whispered Jimmy; "there's a boy I know over there at
that little table. It's Nate Pollard."
He waved his hand toward him and Nate waved in reply. At home
Jimmy had not known Nate very well, for he was older than himself
and in higher classes; but here among strangers Jimmy-boy was glad to
see a familiar face. Mr. and Mrs. Pollard were with their son. Perhaps
they had all come for the summer. Jimmy hoped so.
There were two colored servants gliding about the room, and a pretty
waiting-maid.
"O dear, no cook from Cathay," whispered Kyzie to Edith.

"I don't know what you mean."
"I mean I wanted a cook from Cathay or Cipango," went on Kyzie,
laughing behind her napkin.
"I'm going to shake you," said Edith, who suddenly bethought herself
that Cathay and Cipango were the old names for China and Japan. This
had been part of her history lesson a few days ago. How Kyzie did
remember everything!
At that moment the colored man from Georgia stood at her elbow with
a steaming plate of soup. Lucy looked at him askance. Why couldn't he
have been a Chinaman with a pigtail? She had told Bab she was almost
sure there would be a "China cook" at the mountains, and when he
passed the soup he would say, "Have soup-ee?" Bab had been in
Europe and in Maine and in California, but knew very little of
Chinamen and had often said she "wanted to eat China cooking."
The dinner was excellent. Eddo enjoyed it very much for a while; then
his head began to nod over his plate, his spoon waved uncertainly in the
air, and Maggie had to be sent for to take him away from the table.
The ride up the mountain had been so fatiguing that by eight o'clock all
the Dunlees, little and big, were glad to find themselves snugly in bed.
They slept late, every one of them, and even the woodpeckers, tapping
on the roof next morning, failed to arouse them with their "Jacob, Jacob,
wake up, wake up, Jacob!"
After breakfast Edith happened to leave the dining-room just behind
Mrs. McQuilken, who held her two cats cuddled up in her arms like
babies, and was kissing their foreheads and calling them "mamma's
precious darlings." As Edith heard this she could not help smiling, and
Mrs. McQuilken paused in the entry a moment to say:--
"I guess you like cats."
"I do, ma'am. Oh, yes, very much."

"That's right. I like to see children fond of animals. Now, I've got a new
kitty upstairs, a zebra kitty, that you'd be pleased with. It's a beauty, and
such a tail! Come up to my room and see it if you want to. My room's
Number Five. But don't you come now; I shall be busy an hour and a
half. Remember, an hour and a half."
Edith thanked her and ran to tell Kyzie what the "knitting-woman" had
been saying.
"Go get your kodak," said Kyzie. "Nate Pollard is going to take us all
out on an exploring expedition. You know he has been in Castle Cliff a
whole week, and knows the places."
"First thing I want to see is that mine," said Lucy, as they all met
outside the hotel.
"The mine?" repeated Kyzie, and looked at Eddo. "I'm afraid it isn't
quite safe to take little bits of people to such a place as that. Do you
think it is, Nate?"
"Rather risky," replied Nate.
Eddo had caught the words, "little bits of people," and his eyes opened
wide.
"What does mine mean, Jimmum?"
"A great big hole, I guess. See here, Eddo, let's go in the house and find
Maggie."
"Yes," chimed in Edith, "let's go find Maggie. There's a beau-tiful
picture book in mamma's drawer. You just ask Maggie and she'll show
you the picture of those nice little guinea-pigs."
Though very young, Eddo was acute enough to see through this little
manoeuvre. It was not the first time the other children had tried to get
him out of the way. They wanted to go to see a charming "great big
hole" somewhere, and they thought he would fall into it and get hurt.

They were always thinking such things--so stupid of them! They
thought he used to run after "choo choos" and talk to them, when of
course he never did it; 'twas some other little boy.
"I want to go with Jimmum," said he, stoutly. "You ought to not go
'thout me! I shan't talk to that mine. I shan't say, 'Come, little mine,
Eddo won't hurt oo.' No, no, not me! I shan't say