Three Young Knights Part 6

Dear! how hungry three boys can be! I'm goin' out to get supper. Pa, you must do the entertainin'."

The bread was "just like mother's"--white with a delicious crust--and the b.u.t.ter yellow as gold, and Jot helped himself plentifully. "Ma,"

behind the tea urn, watched him with a beaming face.

"That's right!--I love to see boys eat! I tell pa sometimes I can just see our three boys settin' at this table eatin' one of ma's good meals o' victuals. You must have some of this custard, Joey." A faint essence of added tenderness crept into the wistful old voice at that name. The boys knew that Joey had been the little old lady's baby.

"Joey was a great hand for custard. Joey was a master hearty boy."

After supper, the boys wandered out around the tiny farm. It was at best a rocky, uneven place, but there were evidences of "pa's" hard work on it. Most of the gra.s.s had been mowed and carried into the barn, but there was one small field still dotted over with c.o.c.ks of overripe hay.

Old Tilly strode over and examined it with an air of wisdom.

"Too ripe," he commented. "I guess it won't be worth getting in, if it stays out here much longer."

"He meant to have it all in yesterday--she said he did. I mean that little old lady said so," Jot remarked.

"Well, if it isn't all in to-morrow, it's a goner," Old Tilly said decisively.

"Now, boys, there's lots o' good water out in the cistern," the old lady said, when they came back. "I've put the towels handy in the shed. It may be you'll sleep sounder if you have a nice sponge off."

Only too glad, the boys took to the shed, and then followed their guide to the airy room waiting. How the pillows fitted a fellow's head! as Jot said luxuriously. And the beds, how good they felt after those hard church pews! They were sound asleep in a moment.

The little old lady stole in to look at them. She held the lamp high in one hand and gazed down with wistful eyes into the three healthy brown faces. When she went back to pa, her face was wet with a rain of tears.

"They look so good, pa, lyin' there!" she said brokenly. "An' you'd ought to see how much like Joey the littlest one throws up his arm!"

The old man could not sleep. He kept asking if it looked like rain and kept fretting because he could not move his legs about freely.

"I've got to move 'em, ma," he groaned.-"I've got to practice before to-morrer, so's to get the hay in. I've got to get the hay in, ma!"

It was Jot, for a wonder, who slept the longest. He woke with a start of surprise at his strange surroundings. Then he sat up in bed, blinking his eyes open wider. The room was a large one with two beds in it. He and Kent had slept in one, and Old Tilly in the other. It was just before sunrise, and in the east a wide swathe of pink was banding the sky. Outside the window, a crowd of little birds were tuning up for a concert.

Jot rubbed his eyes again. There was no one else in the room. The other boys had vanished completely. He leaped out of bed with a queer sense of fright. Then he made a discovery.

CHAPTER VI.

"Come on--haying's begun," the note read. It was in Kent's angular, boyish hand, and Jot found it pinned conspicuously to the looking-gla.s.s frame. "Old Till and I are at it. Come on out."

So that was it? They were getting in the poor little morsel of an old man's hay. Jot jumped into his clothes with a leap and was out in the hay-field with them. He was inclined to be cross at being left dozing while the work began.

"I call that shabby mean," he protested. "Why couldn't you wake a fellow up? I guess I'd like a hand in helping the old man out, as well as either of you."

"Wake you up!" laughed Kent. "Didn't I tickle the soles of your feet?

Didn't I pinch you? What more do you want?"

"You wouldn't wake up, Jot," Old Tilly said cheerfully. "I took a hand at it myself, but nothing this side of a bra.s.s band would 've done it this morning. We couldn't bring that in, you know, for fear of waking the folks. So Kent wrote you a letter."

The work went on splendidly. They were all in fine haying trim, and the c.o.c.ks in the rough little field were tossed briskly into the rack.

There were three loads, and the last one was safely stowed in the haymow before the little old lady in the house had stirred up her breakfast cake.

[Ill.u.s.tration: They were all in fine haying trim.]

"I hope she won't discover anything before we get away," Old Tilly said.

"It would be such fun to have it a reg'lar surprise!"

"Wouldn't it!" cried Jot.

"But she might think somebody'd come along in the night and stole it, don't you see?" Kent objected.

"No, sir, I don't see. I guess she'd see our trail. And besides, look up there in the mow! It doesn't look just exactly as it did before we began!"

A few minutes after the boys had glided away on their wheels, the little old lady hurried into "pa's" room.

"Pa, pa, it's all in, jest as nice as a new pin! Every spear's in!" she cried delightedly. "Them three boys did it before breakfast. I knew what they was up to, but I wasn't goin' to spoil their little surprise!

I guess I know how boys like surprises. Don't you remember how Hilary an' Eben got the potatoes all dug that time an' surprised you? How innocent their little faces looked when you said, 'Hum-suz-a-day! how it makes my back ache thinkin' o' those potatoes!' Joey was a t.i.ttle thing in kilts, but he helped. He tugged 'em in, in his own little basket--I can see jest how proud he looked! But I evened up a little on the surprise. I guess when they come to open them bicycle baskets they'll see some things in the way of apple-pie that was not there earlier!"

All the morning the boys wondered at the stream of wagons traveling their way. Then just at noon they found out what it meant. They came round a sharp curve in the road upon a beautiful grove on the sh.o.r.e of a lake. It was gay with flags and the bright dresses of women and children. Here and there an awning or tent dotted the green s.p.a.ces.

People were bustling about in all directions, laughing and shouting to each other, and every few minutes there were new arrivals.

"Hark! there's a band o' music! It's a circus!" cried Kent, excitedly.

Jot had disappeared somewhere in the crowd.

"No-o, not a circus," Old Tilly said doubtfully. "It's some kind of a big picnic. See, there's a kind of a track laid out over there where that flag is. They're going to have some kind of athletics."

"Foot-races and hurdles and things! Oh, I say, can't we stay and see 'em?" Kent cried eagerly.

At that instant appeared Jot, waving his cap in great excitement.

"Come on--we're invited!" he shouted. "There's going to be lots of fun, I tell you! We can buy ice-cream, too, over in that striped tent, and there are boats we can hire to row out in, and--everything."

"Hold on a minute!" demanded Old Tilly with the sternness of authority.

"How did you get your invitation? and what is it that's going on, anyway?"

"Tell quick, Jot--hurry! They're getting ready for a foot-race,"

fidgeted Kent.

"It's a Grangers' picnic, that's what. And a big jolly Granger invited us to stop to it. He asked if we weren't farmer boys, and said he thought so by our cut when I said, yes sir-ee. He wants us to stop. He said so. He says his folks have got bushels of truck for dinner, and we can join in with them and welcome."

"And thanking him kindly, I'll stop!" laughed Kent, in high feather.

"Come on over there, Jot, and see 'em race." And the three young knights were presently in the midst of the gay crowd, as gay as anybody.

The afternoon was full of fun for them. They made plenty of acquaintances among the other brown-faced farmer boys, and entered into the spirit of the occasion with the hearty zest of boys out holidaying.

They were a little careful about not being too free with their spending-money. "'Cause we're out on a long run, you know," Old Tilly said. But what they did spend went for their share of the entertainment given so freely to them by the big Granger who had taken them in tow.

It was a day filled with a round of pleasure, as Jot had predicted.

The athletic contests on the primitive little race-track proved the greatest attraction of all. There were bicycle races after the foot-racing and hammer-throwing and high jumping. Jot longed to vault into his own wheel and whirl round the track dizzily, like the rest of them. He and Kent stood together close to the turning-point. They had somehow drifted away from Old Tilly.