Natalie laughed joyously. “But it isn’t to the North Pole, girls! And it is only a few weeks before you will be there.”
“Never mind! If it is only for a few days, we would see that the railroad company was duly impressed with your importance because of your friends who escort you to the train,” laughed Janet.
Mrs. James had purchased the tickets by this time, and they all started to find Rachel, who was waiting with the baggage. Then they hunted up the particular gate that gave way to the platform of the train they wanted, and passed through in a grand procession.
Rachel was last to pass, and as she tried to force the unwieldy bags through without allowing for the narrow brass rails, she got them stuck. A porter sprang forward to assist her, but she scorned him.
“Whad foh yoh try t’ show off now? Ef yoh had any sence in yoh haid, yoh’d seen I cud have used help befoh dis! Clar out, now, and don’ show yoh kinky monkey-face heah ag’in!”
As she puffed out the angry words, Rachel struggled with the baggage, and finally shot through with the release of the knobby portmanteau that held her precious property. The gate-keeper laughed quietly at the discomfiture of the porter who was inordinately proud of his new uniform and brass-corded cap. To be termed a “monkey-face” by an old mammy was past endurance!
The incident caused a merry laugh with the group of girls, and Natalie said: “There, Rachel! I told you to let us carry one or two of your bags, – you were too laden for anything!”
“Da’s all right, Honey! I ain’t lettin’ yoh lug yohse’f to pieces fer me; but dat pickaninny what’s dressed up like a hand organ monkey makes his livin’ by fetchin’ an’ carryin’; so he oughta know his bis’nis, er someone’s got to teach him it.”
As Natalie reached the platform of the train, she stood still to bid her chums good-by again. Suddenly she remembered what had occurred the night before.
“Oh, is that why you laughed when I said it need not be a long good-by?”
“Surely! we had it all planned to come and see you off, and give you consolation in some tangible form because you would be deprived of our gracious company for two weeks,” giggled Belle, holding out a ribbon-bowed box.
“What’s that for?” demanded Natalie, trying to act impatient because the girls spent their money on her. But her acting was very poorly done.
“And I thought you would need some farming implements at Green Hill, so I managed to secure these for you,” added Janet laughingly.
She held out a long package that defied guessing as to its contents, so Natalie took it and laughed merrily with the others.
“And I brought your favorite nourishment, Nat. One of mother’s ‘chocklate’ layercakes,” said Norma.
“Oh, my goodness! How shall I carry it without mashing the icing?” exclaimed Natalie, managing, however, to place the square box upon her arm where it was carefully balanced.
“And I, Nat,” said Frances, “feared you would lack fruit on the farm, and so I tried to start you with a supply from the New York orchards.”
It takes little to make a merry heart laugh, and at each silly schoolgirl speech made with the gift Natalie laughed so heartily that it was contagious.
“All aboard!” called the conductor, consulting his timepiece and waving Mrs. James into the coach.
“Good-by! Good-by!” shouted five girls, and Natalie was bundled into the train and found herself watching the girls as the train receded from the station.
After she was seated and had tested the box of candies Belle had given her, Natalie saw Mrs. James deeply interested in a paper-covered book.
“What’s the name of it?” asked she, handing the candy-box across the aisle to Rachel.
“Looks like candy,” replied Rachel, thinking the girl was speaking to her.
Natalie laughed. “I meant the book, Rachie,” explained she.
Mrs. James looked up with a half absentminded manner. “What did you say about the book, dear?”
“I asked you what it was. Who wrote it?”
“Oh, it is the new book ‘Scouting for Girls,’ that Miss Mason gave me last night. It is certainly very interesting, Natalie.”
“Is that the Scout Girls’ Manual?” said Natalie, surprised at the thickness of it.
“Yes, and ever so good! It is filled, from cover to cover, with wonderful information. I never dreamed so much could be found in Nature that is so absorbing to read about or study.”
“I wonder why Miss Mason did not give me a copy?” was Natalie’s rejoinder.
“She spoke of it. She said she would send it by one of the girls this morning. Didn’t you get it?” asked Mrs. James.
“I wonder if it is in that box?”
As she spoke, Natalie began undoing the cord that wrapped the long box, and having removed the paper and then the box-cover, she found not only the Manual inside, but a hand-trowel and a weeder.
“Of all things!” laughed she, as she held out the box to show Mrs. James. “A shovel and a rake for my garden.”
Then it was Mrs. James’ turn to laugh. “That is not a shovel, nor is the other a rake, Natalie.”
“Oh, isn’t it? What is it, then?”
“The trowel is used when you wish to dig shallow holes, or loose-earth trenches. The so-called rake is a weeder that you can use about delicate roots, or in forcing deep roots to let go and come up. Both are very necessary for a farmer to use about his house-garden.”
“Well, if I ever have occasion to use them, I shall remember Janet.”
“Then you will be remembering her every day this summer, I think,” laughed Mrs. James. “Weeds are the pest of a farmer’s existence.”
Natalie was soon absorbed in her Scout book also, and Rachel was the only one of the trio who could tell about the scenery they passed as the train sped on to the nearest station to the secluded little village near the farm.
As the three travellers left the train and stood on the old platform of the country station, Natalie gazed about.
“My goodness! What a desert for isolation. Not a human being in sight, and no sign of a house or barn. Nothing but glaring sign-boards telling us where to stop in New York for a dollar per night – private bath extra!” exclaimed she.
Mrs. James laughed. It was true, but it sounded funny the way Natalie spoke.
“We ain’t got to walk, has we, Mis’ James?” asked Rachel plaintively.
“I don’t see anything else to do, Rachel. Do you?”
“Not yet, but mebbe someone’ll come along. I’d jes’ as soon ride behin’ a mule es not. Th’ misery in my spine is that bad sence I’ve be’n packin’ and movin’ so hard all week.”
“A mule would be welcomed, but there is none,” laughed Natalie.
“Isn’t the landscape beautiful?” said Mrs. James, gazing about with admiring eyes.
“As long as it is all that is beautiful to look at at this station, I must agree with you, Jimmy,” teased Natalie.
But both of them now saw Rachel staring down at the dusty road that ran past the platform, and when she dropped her bags and started along the road, acting in a strange manner, Mrs. James whispered nervously to Natalie.
“What can be the matter, Natalie? Can anything have made her brain turn?”
Rachel kept on going, however, bending over and staring at the dust in the middle of the road. Natalie was dumbfounded at such queer behavior, and was about to call to the colored mammy, when Rachel suddenly stopped, straightened up and shouted at something