Kit of Greenacre Farm

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Kit of Greenacre Farm

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Forrester
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Title: Kit of Greenacre Farm
Author: Izola Forrester
Release Date: February 12, 2005 [eBook #15029]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK KIT OF
GREENACRE FARM***
E-text prepared by John Hagerson, Kevin Handy, Emmy, and the
Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
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KIT OF GREENACRE FARM
by
IZOLA FORRESTER
The World Syndicate Publishing Co. Cleveland, O. New York, N.Y.
George W. Jacobs & Company
1919

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.
"NO TRESPASSING"
II. MRS. GORHAM SMELLS SMOKE
III. KIT RISES TO PROPHESY
IV. THE ORACLE AT DELPHI
V. SHEPHERD SWEETINGS
VI. EXPECTING "KIT"
VII. PERSONALLY CONDUCTED
VIII. AT THE SIGN OF THE MUMMY
IX. ALL SANDY'S FAULT
X. THE DEAN'S OUTPOSTS
XI. "KEEP OUT"

XII. KIT LOCATES A "FOUNDER"
XIII. ENTER THE ROYAL MUMMIES
XIV. IN HONOR OF MARCELLE
XV. THE FAMILY ADVISES
XVI. SHOPPING FOR SHAKESPEARE
XVII. HOPE'S PRIMROSE PATH
XVIII. STANLEY APOLOGIZES
XIX. THE COURT OF APPEAL
XX. HOGS AND HORACE
XXI. THE CIRCLE OF RA
XXII. HEADED FOR GILEAD
XXIII. THE DEAN SEES THE STAR
XXIV. THE TENTS OF GREENACRES
XXV. COAXING THE WILDERNESS
XXVI. PAYING GUESTS
XXVII. HELENITA'S SONG-BIRD
XXVIII. STANLEY PAYS AN OLD SCORE
XXIX. KIT GIVES HER BLESSING
XXX. FACING REALITY
CHAPTER I

"NO TRESPASSING"
Kit was on lookout duty, and had been for the past hour and a half. The
cupola room, with its six windows, commanded a panoramic view of
the countryside, and from here she had done sentry duty over the
huckleberry patch.
It lay to the northeast of the house, a great, rambling, rocky, ten acre lot
that straggled unevenly from the wood road down to the river. To the
casual onlooker, it seemed just a patch of underbrush. There were
half-grown birches all over it, and now and then a little dwarf spruce
tree or cluster of hazel bushes. But to the girls of Greenacres, that ten
acre lot represented a treasure trove in the month of August when
huckleberries and blueberries were ripe. Shad said knowing the proper
time to pick huckleberries was just born in one, so the girls had guarded
the old pasture from any marauding youngsters or wayside peddlers.
"You've got to keep a good eye out for them this year," Shad warned
them. "Last year wasn't good for huckleberries, apples or nuts, but this
is going to be a regular jubilee harvest. Them bushes up there are
hanging so full that you can put up quarts and quarts and quarts of them
and send huckleberry pies to the heathen all winter if you want to."
And he had likewise warned them that that particular berry patch had
been famous throughout the countryside ever since the days when
Greenacres had belonged to the Trowbridges. Several times when it had
happened to be a good year for the huckleberry crop, raiders had swept
down and culled the best of the harvest. Not from around the near-by
villages had they come, but from the small towns, ten or fifteen miles
away.
"Them mill boys and girls," Shad declared, "just think that the Lord
grows things in the country for anybody to come along and pick. They
don't pay no more attention to a 'No Trespassing' sign than they would
to a woodchuck's tracks. The only thing to do is watch, and when you
see 'em turn in through the bars off the main road, you come down and
let me know, and telephone over for Hannibal Hicks to come and ketch
'em. Hannibal ain't doin' nothin' to earn his fifteen dollars a year as

constable 'round here, and we ought to help him out if we can."
So to-day, it was Kit's turn to watch the huckleberry patch from the
cupola room, and along towards three o'clock she beheld a trig-looking
red-wheeled, black-bodied wagon, drawn unmistakably by a livery
horse, pull up at the pasture bars, and its driver calmly and shamelessly
hitch there. He took out of the wagon not a burlap bag, but a tan leather
hand bag of generous size, and also something else that looked like a
capacious box with a handle to it.
"Camouflage," said Kit to herself, scornfully. "He's going to fill them
with our berries, and then make believe he's selling books."
Down-stairs she sped with the news. Doris was out at the barn
negotiating peace terms with a half-grown calf that she had been