Chapter 6 HAPPY DAYS.

When Morton came home that night, it was with more of the air Madame Grandet had so graphically described than usual, for he bore two braces of birds, which he exultantly dropped, with a silver dollar, into Sara's lap.

"Why, what is this?" she asked, surprised at the money.

"It's mine," was the proud reply. "Mr. Glendenning gave it to me. He said I had earned it, as well as the game, for I had done all the hard work in bagging the birds; and O Sara, but he's a fine shot! Uncle Adam is that fond of him he's been trying to get him to stay all summer. He says he's a man, if he does wear short pants!"

Sara laughed.

"Two braces of birds, a dollar, and some new friends, how rich we are, Morton! You shall have a supper fit for a king, now, and I, one good enough for a princess!" with a meaning smile over her inner thought.

"Won't we? Make it a roast, Sara, with lots of gravy and stuffing, the way they do at Mrs. Norris's; and oh! I 'most forgot, when we came by Miss Zeba's, the pretty lady came out and said, 'Tell your sweet sister we will make her a morning call to-morrow, if she do please'-them's her very words."

"'Those are,' you mean. Do try, my boy, to speak correctly, at least. I begin to think people are judged more by the way they speak than the way they dress, among intelligent people, so be careful."

"That's so, Sara, for Mr. Glendenning said I spoke good English, or, at least, that because you were so wise was why my English was correct, something like that."

"Why, what does he know of me?" astonishedly.

"Oh, nothing much, only I said you'd been to school, and so on. Sara, I believe I'll go up-stairs and lie down till supper's ready-I'm just about tuckered out!"

"Humph! Do you call that good English, Morton?"

"Well, it's just what I am, if it ain't fine talk," yawning loudly, and before she could correct him again, the urchin made a grimace of defiance, and fled up the stairs to his bed in the loft.

The announcement of that supper "fit for a king" brought him down good as new in an hour's time, and I think few royal personages ever enjoyed a meal more, for "hunger is the best sauce" now as ever.

The next morning the three from Miss Zeba's arrived, quite curious over this orphaned family the madame had talked so much about.

As for young Mr. Glendenning, ever since Morton's description of his sister, which instantly recalled to his memory a blushing, beautiful face, and a hand outstretched for the gingham bonnet in his own, he had been secretly wondering in what way he could make his surmises certainties, without ungentlemanly intrusion; so you may be sure he had no better business in hand when his aunt proposed the call, while her husband would go miles any day to view a really fine specimen.

Molly, in the doorway, painfully enchained just then to her stocking- darning, first sighted the trio, and announced in an excited whisper:-

"They're coming, Sara, they're coming! Have you got the baby washed, and the braided rug over the broken board in the floor?"

Both these important ceremonies having been attended to, she seated herself once more, with an attempt at composure, though every line of her speaking face was alert with anticipation.

"Ah!" said the madame, eying her from the road, "that must be the girl- twin,-Molly they do call her. What a chic little face it is! Do look with what an air she will make as if she does not see us; it ees inimiteeble!"

They turned into the little gate, much amused, and she finally looked up, with such an assumption of astonishment they could scarcely keep from laughing outright; then sprang to her feet, and made a twinkling little bow, which set the young man's eyes to dancing, and entirely captivated madame, at which Sara appeared in the doorway, with her fine Greek head, and rare smile, to give them greeting. Then Morton turned from the fish-lines he was straightening, and looked his honest, quiet pleasure, as different in manner from his twin-sister as a staid, slow proud-stepping heron is different from a flitting, fluttering, flame- winged oriole.

After madame's introductions, which were hardly necessary, as both gentlemen at once recognized Sara (the younger one with an acceleration of his heart-beats which rather surprised himself), the professor became at once immersed in the mineralogical specimens, with Sara to answer his questions.

His nephew plunged into an animated talk with Morton about blue-fishing, and the blond lady divided her attentions between Molly and the baby, whose merry little outbursts soon won the two would-be fishermen from their discussion. Molly was just then giving an account of her school- teacher, talking like a little steam-engine, all dimples, gestures, and tossing curls.

"Why, he isn't anywhere near as good as Sara in books, and you can tangle him up just like a salmon-line!" she cried. "It's lots of fun to see him when we all get to asking questions faster'n he can think; but then, he's awful good about the claws!"

"The what?" asked Glendenning. "Why, you see, when we girls catch a lobster we always keep the claws in our desk, to pass around and suck with our bread at lunch (don't you like lobster-claws? They're splendid!), and he don't mind if we sometimes take 'em out in school- hours. He says fish is good to make more brains, which we need, and when our mouths are full we can't be buzzing! We never had one so nice about that before."

"How wise this modern Aristotle must be!" the young man broke in amid the laughter. "But I doubt if even a lobster-claw could keep you still!"

The little maid gave him a shy glance, containing more of coquetry than her sister would ever know.

"I'm pretty still in church," she said, "that is, if 'tisn't too long. Do you think it's very bad to just look 'round at the clock sometimes? Our church clock's right under the gallery scats, behind us, and it goes the slowest of any I ever saw! Sometimes, when I've waited 'most an hour before I looked 'round, it won't be five minutes by that clock! Miss Prue Plunkett's my Sunday-school teacher; and one Sunday when I had a cold, and my neck was so stiff I couldn't move, she said it didn't better those old Jews any to be a stiff-necked race, but it certainly did me. Sometimes Miss Prue talks so't I can't understand just what she means; but Sara likes her first-rate, and so do I too, most generally."

"Molly!" came admonishingly from the corner where the shelves were, "I'm afraid you're talking too much." "Yes, she is, Sara," put in Morton earnestly. "She's just rattling!"

The madame leaned back, laughing in keenest enjoyment.

"I had forgotten how delightful it is that children may be in a state of nature," she said. "Ah, Robare, how can we go back to those doll-childs at the hotel, with their so fine costumes, and so of-this-world-weary airs, now? You have no doll-houses, my infants, no fine toys that move by the machine-work within, no bicycles, no anything for play; what, then, does amuse you all the day's length in this most sleepy town?"

The children stared at her with round, puzzled eyes.

What did they find to amuse them? With the cliffs, and the sand, and sea, and the nice little lobster and clam basins they knew about; and the countless shells for dishes, and fish-scales for jewellery, and kelp for carpets, and dulse and feathery sea-fern for decorations.

"Dear me!" cried Molly, "there's things enough; all we want is time. Here I've wasted a whole morning darning stockings and talking to you!"

The outburst that followed this naive confession brought uneasy Sara to her sister's side; and with a hand on one of those restless, twitching little shoulders, she managed to keep her respectably quiet through the rest of the call.

As the guests went down the village street it was funny to hear their comments.

"It ees a most fine collection, all varieties and classified most orderly," observed the professor, intent on the minerals.

"Such specimens! And impossible to keep in order!" broke out the young man, meaning something entirely different. "But the oldest is a rare one, and"-

"Ze oldest? Yes, but there be some vich are mos' rare of dose later ones, too. But"-

"The little feather head!" laughed madame out of her thought, oblivious of what had gone before, "but jolie and bright"-

"Zat so bright on, it ees no feddar-head, Felicie; you mistake. That was the rusty, dull"-

"Rusty! Dull! That so brilliant bird of a child! what mean you, Leon?"

"Child? Who say child?" dazedly.

"Oh, stop, stop!" interposed their nephew, raising both hands, "don't have a family jar over nothing. Uncle's on geology, and auntie on babies; don't you see?" and the discussion ended good-naturedly in a laugh all around.

They came every day after that, during their lengthened stay of a week, and often the professor would press Sara into service to direct him in his search for treasures, while madame stayed with Molly and baby; and Morton took many a delightful sail in the yacht with Mr. Glendenning after bluefish or salmon.

Those were happy, plentiful days in the little cottage, for fresh fish or game was almost constantly on their table, while the overplus, sold to their richer friends, kept baby in milk, and all in necessary supplies.

Besides, madame's quick eyes soon penetrated into the real poverty behind the hospitable, self-respecting air of the little household, and she managed in many delicate ways to assist them.

Feeling instinctively that there must be no hint of remuneration to Sara for her really valuable services as guide to her husband, she struck up a trade in wild-flowers, delicate algae, and shells with Molly, buying all that the child could bring her (and the little girl was famous for these findings), afterwards teaching her to mount them in exquisite designs on Bristol-board for possible future customers.

Morton, too, was paid a liberal percentage on fishing-tackle, etc., so that among them all the wolf was kept decidedly at bay, and Sara felt every night like adding a special thanksgiving to her prayers, because she was not forced to ask a loan of Squire Scrantoun.