The Happy Adventurers | Page 9

up in baskets. The
water would be the hard part."
"The water is in that canvas bag," Hugh pointed out; "Papa gave it to
me; it's the boiling that bothers me, because I don't much like using a
spirit-lamp in here."
"Get an old biscuit-tin and fasten it up in the tree and put your
spirit-lamp in that," suggested Mollie the Guide. "Cut out the front;
then you will have a nice little cave all safe and sheltered."
"That's a jolly good idea," said Hugh; "I'll do it to-morrow and we'll

have a party."
A bell in the distance warned the children that it was time to go in and
tidy up for tea. Grizzel, however, was far too much enthralled by the
little house to want to come down so soon. "I don't want any
bread-and-butter tea," she announced; "bring me three oranges and
eleven biscuits, and the _Swiss Family Robinson_, and let me stay up
here."
Tea was laid in the dining-room, where they found Baby already seated
in her high chair. She was a very pretty baby, with large dark eyes,
silky golden hair, and a dear little mouth parting over two rows of tiny
pearly teeth. She gurgled melodiously to her family in the intervals of
dropping bits of jammy bread into her mug of milk, and watching them
bob about with absorbed interest.
"Good old Mary! She's made potato scones and almond gingerbread."
Hugh remarked approvingly. "If you've never tasted real Irish potato
scones baked on a girdle, Mollie, you'd better chalk it up, as Bridget
says. You split them in two, pop in a lump of butter, shut them up, and
eat them. Too soon they are but a sweet dream of the past."
"They'll soon be a horrid dream of the future if you gobble them like
that," Prudence said warningly, "and you've forgotten Grizzel's oranges;
go and pull three fresh ones, and we'd better send her ginger cake."
The gingerbread was baked in thin oblong squares frosted with white
sugar, each child's name being written on its own cake in pink letters.
They were most fascinating, and Mollie was charmed to see one with
her own name on it. The delightful part about this most unexpected
visit, she thought, was the way everyone had apparently expected her.
She could not help wondering how the invitation had been sent, but
decided that it was better not to ask too many questions.
Hugh departed with Grizzel's oranges, biscuits, and gingerbread,
elegantly arranged in a green-rush basket, the Swiss Family Robinson
forming the basis of the repast. He returned with a smile upon his face
which disclosed two most engaging dimples.

"I've sneaked the ladder," he said. "Won't Frizzy Grizzy be pleased
when she finds out! Ha ha! More scones, please."
"She won't mind," Prudence answered placidly, "she knows someone
will have to let her down before Mamma comes in. You've had enough
jam, Baby darling; let Prudence take off your bib now and wash your
handy-pandys. You can have half my gingerbread if you like, Hugh--
hullo, there's Papa!"
There was a sharp double knock at the front door, followed by the
sound of someone entering. Prudence set Baby on her feet and bolted
helter-skelter across the square hall, flinging herself into the arms of a
stout man with a brown beard, who returned her embrace so warmly
that Mollie wondered if he had been away from home for some time.
He removed his tall silk hat, showing a head as thickly covered with
curls as Grizzel's, but the hair was dark and slightly touched with grey.
"Well, my chick-a-biddies," he said, in a delightfully genial voice,
beaming upon them all with the kindest blue eyes Mollie had ever seen,
"and what has everybody been doing? And where is Grizzel?"
As he spoke he lifted Baby into his arms, ignoring the jammy little
fingers, laid a hand on Mollie's head, and looked round inquiringly for
his missing daughter.
"She's in my Nest," Hugh replied, "it's finished. Come and see it. You
can't climb into it yet, but it looks very nice from the outside. I think I'll
arrange a box to pull you and Mamma up in. The zinc-lined box the
piano came in would do."
"Thank you, my son," said Papa kindly, "thank you, thank you. At the
moment I am rather pressed for time. I have to meet Mamma at Mrs.
Taylor's at half-past five, and we are going to the town-hall to hear this
wonderful new telephone, as they call it. They say that someone
speaking from the post office at Glenelg will be perfectly audible in the
town-hall here, a distance of six and a half miles. It sounds almost
incredible. What will they discover next! Truly this is an amazing age,