The Corner House Girls at School | Page 3

you' 'pinion too frequent erbout sperits, chile," warned Uncle Rufus, rolling his eyes again. "Dere may hab been no ghos' in de garret; but dere's ghos'es somewhars--ya-as'm. Sho' is!"
"I don't really see how we can keep him," said Ruth again.
"Oh, sister!" cried Tess.
"Poor, dear Billy Bumps!" exclaimed Dot, with an arm around the short, thick neck of the goat.
"If yo' lets me 'spressify maself," said Uncle Rufus, slowly, "I'd say dat mebbe I could put him in one oh de hen runs. We don't need 'em both jest now."
"Goody!" cried Tess and Dot, clapping their hands. "Let's, Ruthie!"
The older sister's doubts were overborne. She agreed to the proposal, while Agnes said:
"We might as well have a goat. We have a pig 'most every day. That pig of Mr. Con Murphy's is always coming under the fence and tearing up the garden. A goat could do no more harm."
"But we don't want the place a menagerie," objected Ruth.
Dot said, gravely, "Maybe the goat and the pig will play together, and so the pig won't do so much damage."
"The next time that pig comes in here, I'm going right around to Mr. Con Murphy and complain," declared Agnes, with emphasis.
"Oh! we don't want to have trouble with any neighbor," objected Ruth, quickly.
"My! you'd let folks ride right over you," said Agnes, with scorn for Ruth's timidity.
"I don't think that poor cobbler, Mr. Murphy, will ride over me--unless he rides on his pig," laughed Ruth, as she followed Mrs. MacCall indoors.
Tess had an idea and she was frank to express it. "Uncle Rufus, this goat is very strong. Can't you fashion a harness and some kind of a cart for him so that we can take turns riding--Dot and me? He used to draw Sam Pinkney."
"Glo-ree!" grumbled the colored man again. "I kin see where I got my han's full wid disher goat--I do!"
"But you can, Uncle Rufus?" said Tess.
"Oh, yes, chile. I s'pect so. But fust off let me git him shut up in de hen-yard, else he'll be eatin' up de hull ob Mis' MacCall's wash--ya'as'm!"
The poultry pens were fenced with strong woven wire, and one of them was not in use. Into this enclosure Mr. Billy Bumps was led. When the strap was taken off, he made a dive for Uncle Rufus, but the darky was nimble, despite his years.
"Yo' butt me, yo' horned scalawag!" gasped the old colored man, when once safe on the outside of the pen, "an' I won't gib yo' nottin' ter chew on but an old rubber boot fo' de nex' week--dat's what I'll do."
The old Corner House, as the Stower homestead was known to Milton folk, stood facing Main Street, its side yard running back a long way on Willow Street. It was a huge colonial mansion, with big pillars in front, and two wings thrown out behind. For years before the Kenway girls and Aunt Sarah Maltby had come here to live, the premises outside--if not within--had been sadly neglected.
But energetic Ruth Kenway had insisted upon trimming the lawn and hedges, planting a garden, repairing the summer-house, and otherwise making neat the appearance of the dilapidated old place.
On the Main Street side of the estate the property of Mr. Creamer joined the Corner House yard, but the Creamer property did not extend back as far as that of the Stower place. In the corner at the rear the tiny yard of Con Murphy touched the big place. Mr. Murphy was a cobbler, who held title to a small house and garden on a back street.
This man owned a pig--a very friendly pig. Of that pig, more later!
Perhaps it was the fruit that attracted the pig into the Stower yard. The Kenway girls had had plenty of cherries, peaches, apples, pears, and small fruit all through the season. There were still some late peaches ripening, and when Agnes Kenway happened to open her eyes early, the very next morning after the goat came to live with them, she saw the blushing beauty of these peaches through the open window of the ell room she shared with Ruth.
Never had peaches looked so tempting! The tree was a tall seedling, and the upper branches hung their burden near the open window.
All the lower limbs had been stripped by Uncle Rufus. But the old man could not reach these at the top of the tree.
"It will be a mean shame for them to get ripe and fall off," thought Agnes. "I believe I can reach them."
Up she hopped and slipped into her bathrobe. Just enough cool air entered the room to urge her to pull on her hose and slip her feet into slippers.
The window was at the back of the big house, away from the Willow Street side, and well protected from observation (so Agnes thought)