Vacation with the Tucker Twins
TextCHAPTER X
THE FINISH
We were a merry party in spite of this little contretemps. The day was perfect and a fresh breeze gave promise of good sailing. Our destination was Cape Henry, where we planned to have a dip in the surf and then a fish dinner at the pavilion. The launch could make much better time than the cat boat, so Sleepy was to run over ahead of us and give the order for dinner. Sleepy was not greatly pleased with the arrangement of guests and I heard him mutter something about being the goat, but his good nature was never long under a cloud and Dum and Dee, being in a state of extreme hilarity over the outcome of Mabel's machinations, kept the male passengers on the launch in a roar of laughter. Jim told me afterwards that he had never seen the twins more amusing and even the sullen beauty finally decided that the day was too pretty to keep up her ill humour. After all, there were other fish in the sea besides Zebedee: namely, Mr. George Massie, alias Sleepy; so she moved her seat from the comfortable stern and exercised her fascinations on the shy engineer by demanding a lesson in running the motor.
Sailing was a new and exciting experience to Annie and me. I never expect to be more thrilled until I am finally allowed to fly. The boat was a very light one. Zebedee thought the sail was a little heavy for the hull but we went skimming along like a swallow. Tacking was a mysterious performance that must be explained to me and I was even allowed to help a little. Zebedee endeavoured to make me learn the parts of the boat but I was singularly stupid about it, having a preconceived notion of what a sheet meant and a hazy idea of which was fore and which aft, which starboard and which port.
Occasionally the launch circled around us and got within hailing distance and we would exchange pleasantries, but Mabel never deigned to notice us. She was sitting by Sleepy and seemed to have mastered the art of running a naphtha launch. Tweedles told me afterwards that she made a dead set at the young giant but that he seemed to be perfectly unconscious of what she was after, and as soon as she had learned the extremely simple engine, after warning her to keep well away from the cat boat, he curled himself up on a pile of sweaters and went fast asleep. They say it was too funny for anything when Mabel realized the desertion of her teacher. She addressed a honeyed remark to him and received no answer but a smothered snort; she turned, and there he was lying prone on the deck, an expression on his rosy countenance like a cherub's, while he emitted an occasional soft, purring snore.
"There was a young lady named Fitch,
Who heard a loud snore, at which
She raised up her hat
And found that her rat
Had fallen asleep at the switch,"
sang Wink. "Hard luck, Mabel, but that is the way Sleepy always does. You must not take it personally. He even falls asleep when Miss Page Allison is entertaining him. The more amused he is, the quicker he is overcome with sleep. Miss Annie Pore is the only person who can keep him awake for any length of time, and that is because she is so quiet it is up to him to talk; and while he may be talking in his sleep, it doesn't sound like it."
"Awful pity we didn't insist on her coming in the launch if for no other reason than to keep him awake," said Jim. "She is a wonderfully charming girl and so pretty, don't you think so, Miss Binks?"
"Pretty and charming! You can't mean Orphan Annie! Why, she is the laughing stock of Gresham, – namby, pamby cry-baby!"
"Mabel Binks, you must have forgotten that Annie is our guest and one of our very best friends," stormed Dum.
"And no one ever laughed at her except persons with neither heart nor breeding. I will not say who they were as I respect Wink too much to be insulting to his guest," said Dee, tears of rage coming into her eyes.
"Oh, don't mind me!" exclaimed Wink uneasily, fearing a free fight was imminent.
All this time the two boats were coming nearer and nearer together. We were on the starboard tack and several times before during the morning we had come quite close to the launch and then the faster boat had swerved out of our way and we had gone off on a new tack, after calling out some form of repartee to our friends.
I never did believe Mabel meant to do it, but Tweedles to this day declares it was with malice of forethought that she deliberately held the launch in its course, and it was only by the most lightning of changes that Zebedee avoided a collision. The sail swung around without the ceremony of warning us to duck, and as we realized the danger we were in of being struck by the faster boat we instinctively crowded to the other side of our little vessel; and what with the sudden swerving of the heavy sail and the shifting of its human cargo and the added swell of waves made by the launch, we turned over as neatly as Mammy Susan could toss a flap jack.
"Down went Maginty to the bottom of the sea,
Dressed in his best suit of clothes."
There was no time to think, no time to grab at straws or anything else; nothing to do but just go down as far as your weight and bulk scientifically took you and then as passively come up again. I wasn't nearly as scared as I had been when I went under in four feet of water, as I just knew I could float and determined when I got to the top to lie down on my back and do it, as Zebedee had so patiently taught me. My khaki skirt was not quite so easy to manage as a bathing suit had been, but it was not very heavy material and my tennis shoes were not much heavier than bathing shoes. I spread out my limbs like a starfish and without a single struggle found myself lying almost on top of the water looking up into a blue, blue sky and hoping that Annie Pore would remember just to let herself float and not struggle. Everyone else could swim and a turnover was nothing to them. I floated so easily and felt so buoyant, as one does always feel in very deep water, that if I had only known that Annie was safe I would have been serenely happy. Annie was safe because Sleepy, awakened by the screams from the women and shouts from the men, had rolled out of the launch much more quickly than he had ever rolled out of bed (except perhaps on that memorable occasion when we had dumped him out), and with swift, sure strokes had reached the spot where Annie had gone down; and when her scared face appeared above water he was there to grab her. Wink and Jim had dived in, too, both intent on saving me, and Zebedee was by me in a moment, praising me for a grand floater.
Mary Flannagan was paddling around like a veritable little water spaniel with her red head all slick with the ducking, and Miss Cox and Mr. Gordon were gaily conversing as they tread water side by side. It did not seem at all like an accident, but more like a pleasant tea party that we happened to be having out in the middle of the bay.
"Look here, Dum, we are missing too much fun," declared Dee. "Come on! Let's jump in, too. It will be low to be dry when everybody else is wet. That is, everybody we care anything about." And those crazy girls slid into the water, too, leaving the crestfallen Mabel to man the launch.
"Tweedles! What do you mean?" exclaimed their father. "Aren't we wet enough without you?"
"Yes, but you seem to forget that the cat boat is going to have to be righted and all of you men are paddling around here while the poor Goop is slowly filling and sinking." Goop was the singularly appropriate name for our top-heavy craft and sure enough she was in imminent danger of going down for good.
Annie and I were helped into the launch and Sleepy took his place with his hand on the little engine. Mabel was silently consigned to the stern and the Cleopatra cushions, where she very humbly sat to the end of our voyage. It did not take very long to right the Goop, and when she was bailed out, half of the wet crowd clambered back into her and the rest into the launch and we headed for Cape Henry, the hot sun doing its best to dry our soaking wet clothes.
"Wasn't that grand?" exclaimed Mary. "I simply adore to swim in deep water."
"Splendid," said Zebedee. "If I were not so modest, I should suggest a rising vote of thanks to the person who so ably brought about this disaster."
"Why modest?" inquired Dee. "It was certainly not your fault."
"Oh, yes it was, honey," and Zebedee looked meaningly at his daughter; and she understood that it would be certainly pleasanter all around if he took the blame. "I did it on purpose, too. I wanted to see if my pupils would remember what I had told them about floating. I see Page did remember, – or perhaps she is a born floater, just as she is a bubble maker. I don't believe you remembered any of my instructions at all, did you, Annie?"
"Oh, yes, sir, I did. I was just going to try to lie down on the water, although I was terribly scared, when George came to my assistance. I – I – was very glad to see him."
"Thank you, ma'am," and Sleepy blushed a deeper crimson than the sun had already painted him.
CHAPTER XI
CAPE HENRY
We were still rather damp when we disembarked at Cape Henry and it was decided that the best thing to do was to get into our bathing suits immediately and spread out our clothes to dry. Bath houses were engaged and with them a coloured maid who took charge of our wet things.
"Lawd love us! You is sho' wettish! White folks is pow'ful strange, looks lak dey jes' tries to fall in de water. An' now you is goin' in agin'. You must a got so-so clean out yander in de bay."
"Don't you ever go in bathing?" asked Dum.
"Who, me? No'm, not me! I hets up some water of a Sat'day night efen I ain't too wo'out, an' I takes a good piece er lye soap an' I gibs myse'f a scrubbin' dat I specks to las' me 'til nex' time," and with a rich chuckle the girl added: "An' so fer it has."
"But all of us simply adore the water!" exclaimed Dum. "Don't you like the feel of it?"
"No'm, it don't feel no way but jes' wet to me. You all what likes it is welcome to it. I reckon it's a good thing niggers is black so de dirt won't show an' dat white folks is fond er water, 'cause any little siled place on 'em looms up mighty important. Yessum, I's goin' ter hab yo' clothes good an' dry when you feel lak you is done got clean 'nuf to come outn de ocean," and the grinning darkey carried off our damp things to hang on a line and we joined the masculine members of our party to take a dip in the surf.
The bathing at Willoughby is quiet, with rarely any surf, but at Cape Henry great waves come rolling in, seemingly from the other side of the ocean. There is a long sand bar running parallel with the beach, which at high tide is submerged but at low tide shines out dry and white like the back of an enormous sea monster. This bar forms a lovely little pool, calm and clear, in strong contrast to the dashing waves outside. As soon as the tide begins to recede, which it was doing when we emerged from the bath houses, many little children come to play in this pool, being as safe there as they would be in their bath tubs at home. Curious shells are to be found there and wonderful pebbles, dear to the hearts of children. I sometimes wonder what finally becomes of children's treasures, the things they gather so laboriously and guard so carefully. They always disappear in spite of the care the tots give them. I used to think when I was a little thing that the brownies stole my treasures and took them to the baby fairies to play with while their mothers were off painting the flowers or mending the butterflies' wings. I hoped that the baby fairies enjoyed my precious bits of coloured glass and the pieces of shining mica, and wondered if they knew what little girl had owned them, and if, some day, when they would grow up to be full-sized fairies, they would not do something very nice for me because I had let the brownies steal my toys.
Some of the older children had on bathing suits and were playing in the shallow water, while the younger ones in rompers were seated on the beach, digging for dear life in the warm, dry sand, filling their brightly painted pails, patting down the contents and then turning out the most wonderful and appetizing cakes. Meanwhile, their mammies gossiped together, interfering occasionally when some childish vandal knocked over a prize cake or made off with a purloined spade.
"'Ook, Mammy! ain' my ittle take pitty?" said a dumpling of a baby in pink rompers and a pink beach bonnet tied on over a perfect riot of golden curls.
"Yes, honey chile, it sho' is booful. Mammy's doll baby kin make de pootiest cakes on dis here sand pile. Ain't you gonter gib yo' Mammy a bite? Mammy is pow'ful fond er choclid cake." And the old woman looked at her little charge as though she could eat her up, too, pink rompers and all.
"I'll dive oo a ittle bit, Mammy, but oo mustn't eat much. It might make oo sick an den baby hab to gib oo nas'y med'cine," and the little one scooped up some of the sand cake in a shell and her old nurse pretended to eat it with a great show of enjoyment. "Don't oo want some?" and she held out a tempting shell full to Dee. Dee always attracted all children and animals and was attracted by them.
"Delighted, I'm sure!" and she dropped down on the sand beside the darling baby. For a time even the joys of surf bathing had to be postponed while she played with her newly made conquest.
Annie Pore decided to keep in the shallow pool, having had enough of deep water for the day, and Sleepy stayed with her as though she must be protected from even two feet of water, which was the greatest depth of the pool.
I found that I had learned to swim in some mysterious way. I struck boldly out and took the waves as though I had always been surf bathing.
"Bravo!" exclaimed Zebedee, "how well you are coming on!"
"It is getting turned over that has done it," I declared. "You see, I have found out that I can keep up and I am no longer afraid. I verily believe I could swim over to Africa."
"Well, please don't leave us yet," begged Wink.
It was a wonderful sensation to find myself actually swimming without the least fear. Swimming was after all nothing more than walking and water was a medium to be used and not feared. Confidence was all that was needed and my spill in the bay had given me that.
"I am very proud of my pupil," boasted Zebedee. "If the worst comes to the worst and I lose my newspaper job, I'll give swimming lessons for a living."
"Will you always employ the Venetian method and throw the babies out in deep water and let them sink or swim?" I teased.
"Yes, and I'll take Miss Binks into partnership as an expert wrecker," he whispered.
That young woman was looking even finer than before in a very handsome black silk bathing suit, slashed and piped in crimson. She had restored herself to good humour and was having a very pleasant time with some acquaintances she had met on the beach. We hoped her good humour would last until she got safely back to Willoughby, as that meant more or less good manners, too, and all we wanted from the belligerent Mabel was peace at any price. At least, that was all I wanted and surely all Annie Pore wanted. Tweedles were ready to give battle at any moment and Mary Flannagan looked full of mischief.
"Do you s'pose Mabel is going to content herself with a sand bath?" whispered Mary to me. "Maybe her suit is too fine to get wet."
"She certainly looks very stunning under that red parasol, posing up there on the beach," said Dum, riding a wave and landing almost on top of me. "I can't abide her but I must confess she is very paintable, especially the red parasol. I'll never cease to regret that I did not hook my foot in the handle and drag it overboard with me when I dived off the launch. I thought about it while I was slipping off my shoes and it would have been as easy as dirt to make out it was an accident; but it would have been too Mabelesque an act and I could not quite make up my mind to do it."
"I should say not, but if it could have happened and been a real accident it would certainly have been fun," I exclaimed. "I can see you leaping into the air with your toe hitched to the parasol like a kind of a parachute. Who are her friends?"
"Search me! but I notice she does not see fit to introduce them. I wonder whether she is ashamed of them or ashamed of us."
"'Mother dear, may I go swim?'
'Yes, my darling daughter,
Hang your clothes on a hickory limb
But don't go near the water,'"
sang Mary, throwing her voice so it seemed to come from behind Mabel. Then we dived under the water and our giggles came up in the form of my specialty, bubbles. Mabel never did wet her suit, however.
When we had had all the swim we wanted, we raced back to the bath houses and found the humorous maid had our clothes all nicely dried. The effect was rather rough-dried, but we were not in a position to be choosy.
"Well, here you is back agin! I can't sees dat you look no cleaner dan you did befo'. I low all dat soakin' will draw de suption outn yo' bones an' dey ain't nuf strength lef' in you to make a pot er soup."
And the truth was, I did feel a little feeble from the two swims and realized that I was only fit for soupe maigre or some very weak broth. Food was what I needed; and as soon as we got into our rumpled clothes, dinner was ready. What a dinner it was! Clam chowder first, with everything in it that the proprietor could find, and seasoned to a king's taste; then soft shell crabs with tartar sauce; then baked blue-fish with roasted corn and creamed potatoes; then tomato salad; then any kind of pie your fancy dictated.
"All I ask of you is not to eat ice cream," begged Zebedee; "it is fatal along with crabs." And so we refrained, although it did seem to me with all the layers of food between the crabs and dessert, it would have been safe.
Dinner over, we determined to explore the Cape. It was a tremendously interesting spot. In the first place it was at Cape Henry that the English first disembarked in 1607. A stone tablet now supplants the old wooden cross raised by the first settlers to mark the spot where the adventurers landed on American soil. It is a bleak place with little vegetation of any sort, nothing but the beach grass and a few stunted oaks that look as though they had bowed their heads to invincible storms from the moment that their little lives had burst from the acorns.
"They remind me of poor little factory children trying to grow to manhood," I said to Zebedee who was showing us the sights. "When I think of the oaks at Bracken and see these, it is difficult to realize that they are all trees and all sprung from acorns. It is like a little factory child by the side of George Massie, for instance." Zebedee the sympathetic wiped his eyes at the thought of all the little mill hands that we seemed to be powerless to help.
The old light-house built in 1690 was thrilling and I could hardly tear myself away from it to go view the modern, up-to-date one that was open for inspection. The wireless telegraph station, the first I had ever seen, was not far from the old light-house, and it seemed strange to think of the tremendous strides science had made since those sturdy pioneers had built that picturesque old tower.
The sand dunes at Cape Henry are famous. They over-topped the cottages in places and the little church was almost buried at one end. They say this loose sand drifts like snow and the big wind storms in winter pile it up into great hills so that the cottagers, returning for their summer holidays, often have to dig out their homes before they can get to housekeeping.
We had great larks sliding down these dunes and we got so dusty we were ashamed to face the maid who had dried our clothes, knowing she would have some invidious remarks to make about the uselessness of our having washed, as she designated our sea bathing.
And now it was time to go home. We bade the grinning maid farewell, much richer from our visit, as she was handsomely tipped by Wink, the purse-bearer from the camp, and Zebedee, the ever lavish.
"When you gits dirty agin they's always plinty er water here," she called out.
We changed places going back, as it was deemed not quite safe for Annie and me to travel in the cat boat again. "Even if you can swim to Africa," said Jim.
Annie was glad enough to get into the safer boat, but I enjoyed sailing more than motoring, although that was delightful enough. Miss Cox and Mr. Gordon came with us and Mary and Rags. Sleepy ran the boat and although we were very quiet on the trip, everyone feeling a little tired and very peaceful, I noticed that Sleepy did not go to sleep; when he was not running the engine, he seemed to be taken up with looking after Annie's comfort.
Once when our craft came close to the cat boat, Dum called out:
"Sing, Annie, sing!" and all of the rest, with the exception of Mabel, joined in the request. And Annie sang:
"'Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
"'Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon:
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep my little one, sleep my pretty one, sleep.'"
"Ah, ha, Miss Page Allison!" broke in Mabel's strident voice as we disembarked at Willoughby, after the very smooth, peaceful journey, "'The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.'"
"That's so, but why this remark?" I asked. "What race has there been and what battle?" The men were making all ship-shape in the boats while we girls strolled on ahead. I had not the slightest idea what Mabel was talking about.
"Why, I got your middle-aged beau, all right, all right! I fancy he was glad enough to get away from you bread-and-butter school girls and have some sensible conversation with a grown-up." I could not help smiling at this, having often listened entranced to Mabel's methods of entertaining men. If that was what she called sensible conversation, Zebedee must have been truly edified.
"Well, it was a good thing Mr. Tucker, if that is the middle-aged beau in question, was wise enough to take his bread-and-butter first before he indulged in the rich and heavy mental food that you fed him on. If he had taken it on an empty head, as it were, it might have seriously impaired his mental digestion." I fired this back at Mabel, angered in spite of myself.
"And so, Miss, you say Mr. Tucker has an empty head! How should you like for me to tell him you said so?"
"Tell him what you choose," I answered, confident of Zebedee's knowing me too well to believe I said anything of the sort. "And how would you like me to tell Mr. Tucker you called him middle-aged?" and I left the ill-natured girl with her mouth wide open. I wanted peace, but if Mabel wanted battle then I was not one to run away. No one had heard her remark and I felt embarrassed at the thought of repeating it. I could hardly tell Tweedles that Mabel called their father "my middle-aged beau," and certainly I could not repeat such a thing to Zebedee himself. Mabel was evidently bent on mischief but I felt pretty sure that in a battle of wits I could come out victorious. All I feared was that she would do something underhand. Certainly she was not above it. Like most deceitful persons, she was fully capable of thinking others were as deceitful as herself.