Jimmy, Lucy, and All | Page 4

were tents scattered all about, full of "campers."
As the "bonnie Dunlees" and their elders entered the hotel, a merry voice called out:--
"A hearty welcome to you, my friends, and three cheers for Castle Cliff!"
Mr. and Mrs. Dunlee and the Sanfords walked on smiling, and the children lingered awhile outside; but it was a full minute before any of them discovered that the cheery voice belonged to a parrot, whose cage swung from a tall sycamore overhead.
"Polly's pretty sociable," laughed Mr. Templeton. "Do you like animals, young ladies? If so, please stand up here in a group, and you shall have another welcome."
Then he clapped his hands and called out "Thistleblow!" and immediately a pretty red pony came frisking along and began to caper around the young people with regular dancing steps, making at the same time the most graceful salaams, pausing now and then to sway himself as if he were courtesying. It was a charming performance. The little creature had once belonged to a band of gypsies, who had given him a regular course of training.
"He is trying to tell you how glad he is to see you," said Mr. Templeton, as the children shouted and clapped their hands.
"Oh, won't Bab like it, though!" cried Lucy. "Seems as if I couldn't wait till to-morrow for Bab to get here, for then the good times will begin."
But for Kyzie and Edith and Jimmy the good times had begun already. The five Dunlees entered the house, little Eddo clinging fast to Jimmum's forefinger. They passed an old lady who sat on the veranda knitting. She gazed after them through her spectacles, and said to Mr. Templeton in a tone of inquiry:--
"Boarders?"
"Yes," he replied, rubbing his chin, "and they have lots of jingle in 'em too; they're just the kind I like."
"Well, I hope they won't get into any mischief up here, that's all I've got to say. Nobody wants to take children to board anyway, but you can't always seem to help it."
And then the old lady turned to her knitting again; indeed her fingers had been flying all the while she talked. Mr. Templeton looked at her curiously, and wondered if she disliked children.
"I'd as lief have 'em 'round the house as her birds and kittens anyway," he reflected; for she kept a magpie, three cats and a canary; and these pets had not been always agreeable guests at the hotel.
It was now nearly six o'clock, and savory odors from the kitchen mingled with the balmy breath of the flowers stealing in from the lawn. The Dunlee party had barely time for hasty toilets when the gong sounded for dinner. The Templeton dining-room was large and held several tables. The Dunlees had the longest of these, the one near the west window. There were twelve plates set, though only nine were needed to-night. The three extra plates had been placed there for the Hale family, who were expected to-morrow. Mrs. Dunlee had told the landlord that she would like the Hales at her table.
"And Bab will sit side o' me," said Lucy. "Oh, won't we be happy?"
As the Dunlees took their seats to-night and looked around the room they saw a droll sight. The old lady, who had been knitting on the veranda, was seated at a small table in one corner; and on each side of her in a chair sat a cat! One cat was a gray "coon," the other an Angora; and both of them sat up as grave as judges, nibbling bits of cheese. Mrs. McQuilken herself, dressed in a very odd style, was knitting again. She was a remarkably industrious woman, and as it would be perhaps three or four minutes before the soup came in, she could not bear to waste the time in idleness. Her head-dress was odd enough. It was just a strip of white muslin wound around the head like an East Indian puggaree. Mrs. McQuilken had many outlandish fashions. She was the widow of a sea-captain and had been abroad most of her life. The children could hardly help staring at her. Even after they had learned to know her pretty well 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