CHAPTER VII

FUNNY UNCLE JIM

THROUGH the ensuing week the girls used Treasure House for study hours; and too, they finished up much in the way of furnishing. They were not both there every day, and sometimes neither was there, but the House was a great comfort, and soon they felt greatly at home in it.

“It’s getting fitted to us, like a shoe,” declared Dotty after a few days. “At first, I didn’t like the feel of this chair. Now, I love it.”

“Isn’t it funny how you get used to things,” said Dolly, musingly. “But you can’t always. I’m trying to get used to Bernice Forbes, and yet somehow, I can’t like her, and I don’t know why.”

“Of course you can’t, Dolly. She isn’t our sort.” And Dotty shook her head as if she had settled the question for all time.

“Oh, pshaw! Our sort! What is our sort, I’d like to know. She’s just as good as we are, just as rich, just as fashionable—”

“Oh, I don’t mean those things. She’s richer than any of our set, and fashionabler, too. But that doesn’t make her our sort.”

“Well, what does? if you know so much.”

“She’s too stuck-up, for one thing. But that isn’t the main thing. She’s a—oh, I don’t know how to express it. But she hasn’t any gumption, or any,—oh, any sense. But she _thinks_ she has, and it’s _that_ that makes her so disagreeable.”

“I don’t think you’re altogether right, but I’m going to find out. I don’t see why nobody likes her.”

“But you ought to see that if nobody does like her, it’s because she isn’t likable, for some reason or other.”

“I do see that, and I’m going to find out that some reason or other.”

“Pitch in, and find out, then. Good luck to you! Oh, here comes Grace.”

“Thought I’d find you here,” said Grace Rawlins, as Dotty opened the door to her. “Hello, Dolly, busy studying?”

“Just about to begin to think about getting at it,” returned Dolly, laughing. “But it can wait; sit down, Gracie.”

“Can’t stay a minute. I just flew in to ask you two to go nutting to-morrow, up at Uncle Jim’s woods.”

“Gorgeous! I’d love to go,” cried Dotty and Dolly echoed, “So would I!”

“Well, it’s just only us and Ethel and Maisie. I can’t ask any more, ’cause Uncle is going to send for us in his car, and he’ll send us home again. Won’t it be fun?”

“Fine! I can do all my lessons to-night, can’t you, Doll?”

“I will, whether I can or not. What time do we start, Grace?”

“One o’clock, sharp. Be ready, won’t you? And don’t wear too good clothes, it’s a real country place.”

“All right, we’ll wear our oldest.”

Grace went away, declaring she wouldn’t longer interfere with their study, and the Two D’s set to work in earnest.

“Then we can’t have lunch over here to-morrow,” Dotty said, a bit regretfully.

“No matter, there are lots of other Saturdays. I’d rather go nutting while we can.”

“So would I. Now keep still, I’ve got to attack these Geometry problems.”

“Thank goodness, I’ve done mine. But History still stares me in the face.”

Silence settled down upon them, broken occasionally by a murmur of this sort: “Ptolemy I was followed by a series of monarchs—by a series of monarchs—what are you going to wear, Dotsie?”

“That old brown gingham—the cube root of xy—364/2—”

Dolly burst into laughter. “X square plus seven X plus fifty-three equals eleven thirds!” she quoted.

Dotty laughed back and quoted their favourite “Hunting of the Snark.”

“Taking three as the number to reason about— A convenient number to state— We add Seven and Ten and then multiply out By One Thousand diminished by Eight. The result we proceed to divide, as you see, By Nine Hundred and Ninety and Two: Then subtract Seventeen, and the answer must be—”

“Must be what, Dolly?”

“Exactly and perfectly true,” said Dolly, who was only half listening, but who knew her Lewis Carroll by heart. Her eyes were turned up to the ceiling and she was gabbling over and over—“by a series of monarchs also called Ptolemies down to the time of Queen Cleopatra, the last of the line. By a series of Ptolemies—a series of Ptolemies also called monarchs,—h’m—also called Cleopatra—no, also called—also called—oh, what _were_ the old things called?”

“You’re nutty!” said Dotty. “No, my child, that isn’t slang, I mean you’re thinking of the nutting party and you can’t get the series of mummies straight in your head.”

“They weren’t mummies—”

“They were after they stopped being monarchs, weren’t they? All Egyptians were,—I mean, all fashionable Egyptians. Do keep still, dear, sweet Dollyrinda, _do_ keep still. The cube root of xy,—_Oh!_—I do abhor, detest, despise, abominate these cubed XY’s!”

But having thus exploded her wrath, Dotty set to work in earnest and finally conquered the refractory factors.

“Done!” she announced, at the end of a half hour of hard work. “I’ve cubed everything in sight, and some roots that were hidden deeply and darkly in the earth.”

“You ought to be a Cubist, that we read so much about in the papers.”

“No, thank you. I’ll cube what I have to, but I’ll never go out cubing, for pleasure. How are your Ptolemies?”

“Awfully mixed up. I’m going to let them simmer over night, and get up early and attack them with the dew on them. Perhaps I can lash ’em to the mast then.”

The next day turned out to be an ideal piece of weather. Clear, cold, the wind tossing white drifts of cloud about in the upper blue, and descending to whisk the nuts off the trees for those who desired them. The wind was aided and abetted by Uncle Jim’s men, and when the crowd of girls arrived, there was a widespread area of nut-besprinkled ground awaiting them.

“Well, this is some sort of a nutting party,” said Dolly, as, each with a basket, they started to the fray. “All I’ve been on lately, meant hunting around half an hour for three small nuts,—one wormy.”

“Oh, Dolly, what a sad experience,” Grace returned. “I’m so glad I brought you up here to Brazil, where the nuts come from.”

“It’s sure some little old Brazil, all right,” agreed Dotty, and then they all stooped to their task.

Baskets were quickly filled, and the girls sat down to rest under a tree.

“This must be the old original spreading Chestnut Tree,” said Maisie. “I always wondered if it did really spread such a lot. I see it does.”

“Here comes the spread!” said Grace, as a maid appeared bearing a tray filled with glasses and plates. The contents were sweet cider and ginger cakes, and to the hungry girls they looked very good indeed.

“But we must be getting home,” said Ethel. “I promised Mother we’d be back by five or six, at latest.”

“We can’t go till Uncle Jim sends us,” said Grace. “I told him we wanted to leave at four, but he only said ‘Oh, shucks!’”

“Where is he?” asked Dolly. “And isn’t there any Aunt Jim?”

“No, he’s a bachelor. Lives here alone, except for the servants. The truth is, he’s a little shy before a lot of strange girls. Guess I’ll go and hunt him up.”

She ran away to the house, and Ethel explained further: “You see, he’s Mother’s uncle. Quite an old man. And old-fashioned in his ways, except that he has a motor-car and a telephone. But personally, he’s as backwoodsy as Methuselah; but a dear old thing, and awfully kind-hearted.”

Grace came back in triumph, leading Uncle Jim. Pushing and pulling him, rather, for the old man was clearly unwilling to come.

“Now, now, Pussy, whatyer want to drag an old man like me out here fur? These city young misses don’t wanter see me!”

“Yes, we do, Uncle Jim,” called out Ethel, and they all echoed, “Yes, we do, Uncle Jim!”

“Well, well, what a perty lot o’ young misses. And have you all got all the nuts you want?”

“Yes, indeedy!” cried Dolly. “All we can carry, and more too. And we’re ever and ever so much obliged.”

“Not at all, not at all! Ye’re welcome to all and more. It’s a sight to see young things runnin’ around the old place. Why don’t ye bring ’em up oftener, Gracie?”

“Only waiting for an invitation, sir,” and Dotty’s sparkling black eyes laughed into the old face.

“Shucks, now! Well, I hereby invite ye, one and all, to come up here jest whenever ye like, and raise hob.”

“Good!” cried Maisie. “I just love to raise hob! Let’s come next week, girls, when those other nuts are ripe.”

“Do, now jest _do_!” said the old man, delightedly. “This old place don’t get sight of chick nor child very often. Must ye be goin’ now? Well, mind now, ye’re to come agin next week. Make a day of it, and bring more of yer young friends. I’ll see to it that Sary makes ye some good old-fashioned doughnuts, and apple turnovers.”

“Look here, Uncle Jim, I’ve an idea,” and Ethel ran to him and laid her hand impressively on his arm.

“Fer the land’s sake, Ethel, ye don’t say so!” and Uncle Jim shook with laughter at his own wit. “A little gell like you with an idea! Sho, sho, now. Come, out with it! It might fester!”

“Now don’t you tease me. But it’s just this. S’pose we come up here on Hallowe’en and have a witch party.”

“My patience! what an idea for a little gell to have! Now, lemme see,—lemme see.”

“No, that’s too much trouble for you, Uncle Jim,” said Grace. “You oughtn’t to have proposed it, Ethel.”

“No, now, wait a minnit, Gracie. Don’t you be too hasty. ’Tain’t no trouble at all, I wasn’t thinkin’ of that. I was thinkin’ if I could make things nice and perty fer you young misses. That’s the trouble. I’m plain, you see, plain, and—”

“Now, that’s just what we want, Uncle Jim, just the plain house, and orchard. We’ll do all the fixing up, ourselves.”

“Now, now, wait a minnit, I tell you. Don’t go so everlastin’ fast. I can’t keep up with you. Here’s the trick. You have your mother come up in the arternoon, and she can help me put things a leetle mite to rights. Then me and Sary and Etty can do the rest.”

“Oh, Mother’ll be glad to come. How about it, girls?”

“Why, we were going to have a Hallowe’en party, ourselves,” said Dotty, smiling as she saw Dolly’s look of consternation.

“I know it; but don’t you think this would be more fun, in the country, you know. Don’t you, Dolly? We won’t do it, if you say not,” and Grace looked embarrassed, “but I thought your party was more like a house-warming for your new playhouse, and so—”

“All right, I say,” and Dotty, turned to Dolly. “Whatcha think, Dollops? Speak out in meetin’! If you don’t want to come up here, say so.”

“I do,” said Dolly, her face clearing. She couldn’t think as rapidly as Dotty, and it took her a minute or two to readjust her plans. “It will be heaps of fun. Are you sure you want us,—Uncle Jim?” The blue eyes looked up into his own, and Uncle Jim said heartily, “You bet I do! Every one here, and a half a dozen more perty young misses, and then boys enough to go round, can you get that many?”

“Oh, yes, we’ll ask all our crowd, and fill up with some of the others. What fun! I’m sure Mother will be pleased, she loves to come up here.”

“All right, Gracie, girl, you talk it over with her, and I’ll be down in a few days, and we’ll see about it.”

“Can we go in the house, Uncle, and see how it is for a party?”

“Sure and sartain! Go right along, the hull pack o’ ye. Browse around, and see the hull shack, and by then, I’ll be ready to send ye home. Go right in the kitchen door. Sary, she’s the cook, ’ll be glad to see you, and Etty, that’s her darter, ’ll show ye round.”

The girls went to the kitchen door, not quite so sure of Sary’s warm welcome as their host was. But they found he was right.

“Well, for the land’s sake! What a delegation! Come in, Miss Grace and Miss Ethel, and bring your friends. Excuse my untidiness. I wasn’t no-ways expecting company.”

The apology was wholly unnecessary, for everything in Sary’s kitchen was spick and span and shining. She was a buxom woman of middle age, and had a broad, smiling face, overflowing with good nature. Her daughter, Etty, was the one who brought them their cakes and cider, and she was shy, but exceedingly curious to see the city ladies,—as the girls seemed to her.

She conducted them all over the fine old farmhouse, and listened in surprise as they exclaimed in wonder and delight over the big open fireplaces, and old mahogany furniture, that seemed to her the most uninteresting and commonplace affairs.

“Perfectly gorgeous!” cried Dotty. “Oh, Grace, I’d ever so much rather have the Hallowe’en party here. Wouldn’t you, old Dollypops?”

“Yes, of course. And we can just as well have any other sort of a party at Treasure House.”

“Course we can. And we will. After this affair is over. I say, girls, let’s have it a masquerade!”

“Oh, let’s!” said Maisie. “I’ve a dress all ready to wear. It’s a witch dress, all—”

“I think we ought all to dress as witches,” interrupted Grace. “Or spooks or hobgoblins or—”

“That’s all right,” put in Dotty, “but the boys won’t do it. They hate dressing up.”

“Let ’em stay away, then.”

“No, a Hallowe’en party without boys is no fun. They make up the tricks and jokes, you know.”

“That’s so,” said Dolly, “but if you tell the boys they can’t come unless they wear spooky rigs, they’ll do it fast enough. Why, a sheet and pillowcase ghost-rig is good enough, and that’s no trouble at all! Don’t you know Dot, we wore them up at Crosstrees last summer, and the boys didn’t mind a bit.”

“Yep, that’s so. Oh, the boys will come. You couldn’t keep them away. What a fireplace to roast chestnuts or pop corn!”

They were in the dining-room now, and its enormous stone fireplace was indeed ideal for a Hallowe’en frolic. And the kitchen, too, offered enchanting possibilities. Then there was the orchard, if any one dared try fortunes beneath the stars. Altogether it was a splendid chance and the Two D’s were glad to lay aside their own half formed plans for these.

On the way home, they talked it over, and as they drew near the Roses’ house the D’s asked the other girls to come in and talk some more.

“I can’t,” said Grace, “I promised Mother, Ethel and I would get home early. It’s a little after five now.”

“Then you come in, Maisie,” said Dolly. “We’ll make fudge. You can stay till six, can’t you?”

“Yes, indeed, and I’m simply starving for fudge.”