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Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue in the Big Woods, a novel by Laura Lee Hope |
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Chapter 18. Roasting Corn |
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_ CHAPTER XVIII. ROASTING CORN "Now, Bunny, be careful when getting into the boat," said his father. Bunny turned and looked at his father. What Bunny thought, but did not say, was: "Why, Daddy! I've gotten into boats lots of times before, I guess I can get in now." That is what Bunny Brown did not say. But, in a way, Bunny's father was talking to the ragged boy, Tom, and not to Bunny. For Mr. Brown did not yet know how much Tom might know about boats, and as the boy was a big lad, almost as tall as Uncle Tad himself, Mr. Brown did not want to seem rude and give a lesson to a boy who might not need it. So though he pretended it was Bunny about whom he was anxious, all the while it was about Tom. "Oh, I'll be careful, Daddy," said Bunny. "And you be careful too, Tom. You don't want to fall in and get drowned, do you?" "No indeed I don't, Bunny. Though it would be pretty hard to drown me. I can swim like a muskrat. And I can row a boat, too, Mr. Brown," he went on. "I've worked for Mr. Wilson, the man who owns the pavilion at the other end of the lake. I used to row excursion parties about the lake, and there isn't a cove or a bay I don't know, as well as where the good fishing places are." "I found one of those myself this morning," said Mr. Brown, with a smile. "Well, I wish you'd let me row you to some others that hardly any one but myself knows about." "I shall be glad to have you," said Bunny's father. "And I'm glad you understand a boat. I shan't be worried when Bunny and his sister Sue are out with you." "I can row myself a little, when you are with me, Daddy," said Bunny. "Yes, but you'll have a chance to learn more with Tom, as I haven't time to teach you. So I'm going to depend on you, Tom." "Yes, sir, and I'll take good care of 'em. I've lived near this lake all my life, and when my folks died and I went to the poorhouse in the Winter, and worked out in the Summer, I managed to get to the lake part of the time. I'll look after the children all right." Mr. Brown did not need to ask anything further what Tom knew of a boat, once the ragged boy took his seat and picked up the oars. He handled them just as well as Mr. Brown could himself. "Do you want me to row you to any particular place?" asked Tom. "Well, some place where we can get some fish. I suppose Bunny would like to land a few." "I want to catch a whole lot of fish, Daddy!" cried Bunny. "So row me to a place where there's lots of 'em!" "All right, here we go!" and Tom bent his back to the oars, so that the boat was soon skimming swiftly over the water. Mr. Brown liked the way the big boy managed the boat, and he knew he would feel safe when Bunny and Sue were out with Tom. Meanwhile, on shore, in the shade of the cooking tent, Sue was busy with her pie. "I want to make a mince one, for daddy likes that kind," said Sue. "And I want to have it ready for them when they come home from fishing. Though I don't see what he wants of any more fish," she added, as she glanced at a little pool near the edge of the lake where, in a fish-car, the fish Mr. Brown had caught while out alone that morning were swimming. They could not get out of the car, or box, which had netting on the side. "He is going to take some of them back to the city with him in the morning," said Mrs. Brown. "He wants to give them to his friends. Those he and Bunny and Tom catch this afternoon, will be for our supper, Sue." "I like Tom, don't you, Mother?" asked Sue, as she put on a long apron in readiness to bake her pie. "Yes, he seems like a nice boy. But it's very queer that the hermit should stick needles into him." "But they weren't _real_ needles," said Sue. "He never could see them. He only felt them. They must have been fairy needles, for Tom could never see them being pulled out, either." "Well, we'll let your father look after that," said Mrs. Brown. "Now we'll bake your pie and I'll make the pudding and cake I have to get ready for the Sunday dinner." Whenever Mrs. Brown baked she always let Sue do something--make a patty-cake, a little pie with some of the left-over crust from a big one, or, perhaps, bake a pan of cookies. Mrs. Brown would let Susie use some of the dough or pie crust already made up, or she would stand beside her little girl and tell her what to do. To-day Mrs. Brown did a little of both. She, herself, baked several pies, as well as two cakes, and as there was plenty of pie crust left Mrs. Brown told Sue how to roll some out in a smooth, thin sheet, and lay it over a tin. "The next thing to do," said Mrs. Brown, "is to put the mince-meat in on the bottom-crust, put another sheet of pie crust on top, cut some holes in it so the steam can get out, trim off the edges, nice and smooth, and set the pie in the oven. "Roll out your top pie crust and you'll find the mince-meat in a glass jar in the cupboard, next to a jar of peaches. And don't forget to cut holes in your top crust." Sue started to do all this. Just then, a neighboring farmer's wife called at the tent, with fresh eggs to sell, and, as she needed some, Mrs. Brown went to see about buying a dozen. "Go on with your pie, Sue," she called. "I'll be back in a minute." "Let me see," said the little girl to herself. "I have the bottom crust in the tin, the top crust is all rolled out, and now I need the mince-meat. I'll get it." From a glass jar which she brought from the cupboard, next to a jar of peaches, Sue poured very carefully into the bottom crust some dark stuff that had a most delicious spicy odor. "Um-m, that mince-meat is good and strong!" said Sue. "Daddy will be sure to love it." She spread out the filling evenly and then put on the top crust with the little holes cut in to let out the steam when the pie should be baking in the oven. Just as Sue was finishing trimming off what, was left over of the crust, Mrs. Brown came back from buying the eggs. "Oh, you have your pie finished!" exclaimed Sue's mother. "You got ahead of me. Well, I'll put it in the oven for you, as you might burn yourself. And then I'll get on with _my_ baking." "And I really made this pie all my own self; didn't I?" asked Sue, eagerly. "Indeed you did, all but making the crust. And you'll soon be able to do that," said her mother. "Now we must finish our baking." The afternoon passed very quickly for Sue and her mother, but just as the last cookies, which Sue helped to make, were taken out of the oven, a lovely brown, and smelling so delicious, Bunny, his father and Tom came back from their fishing trip. "Is the pie baked, Sue?" asked Bunny, who was tired, hungry and dirty. "There are certainly pies baked, and other things too, if my nose can smell anything!" cried Daddy Brown. "Now then we'll clean the fish and have them for supper." "Please let me clean them," said Tom. "I used to work for a fish man and I know how to do it quick." "That isn't the only thing you can do quickly," said Mr. Brown, with a smile. "The way you caught that fish which got loose from Bunny's hook to-day showed how quick you were." "Oh, I've done that before," said the tall lad with a laugh. "I like to fish." "And he's very good at it," said Mr. Brown to his wife as he and Bunny began to wash. "He took me to a number of quiet coves, and we got some big fish. Bunny caught the prize of the day, and it would have got loose from its hook if Tom had not slipped a net under it in time. Bunny was delighted." "I'm glad of that. But what about this boy? Are we going to keep him with us?" "I think so, for a while. He'll be useful about the camp, now that I have to be away so much. And, too, he's perfectly safe with the children. He'll look well after them. Besides I want to look into this queer story he tells about the hermit Bixby and the needles." "Do you think there is anything in it?" "Well, there may be--and something queer, too. I want to find out what it is. Tom can sleep in that little extra tent we brought. Now how is supper coming on? Can I help?" "No, I think Uncle Tad has done everything but clean the fish, and---- "Here comes Tom with them now," said Mrs. Brown. "And you must be sure to speak of Sue's pie." "I will. That little girl is getting to be a regular housekeeper. She'll soon have your place," and Mr. Brown shook his finger at his wife. Tom brought up the cleaned and washed fish. Mrs. Brown dried them in old towels, dipped them in batter and soon they were frying in the pan. By this time the cakes and pies were set out, and in a little while supper was ready. And how good those freshly caught fish tasted! Bunny declared his was the best, and really it did seem so, for it was a splendid bass. "And now for my pie," said Sue, as Mrs. Brown set it on the table. "I want you all to have some, and a big piece for Tom, 'cause he saved Bunny's fish." Mrs. Brown cut the pie and passed it around. As she did so she looked carefully at the pie and the pieces. "Isn't there enough, Mother?" asked Sue, anxiously. "Oh, yes. But I was just thinking----" At that moment Bunny, who had taken rather a large bite, cried: "What kind of pie did you say this was, Sue?" "Mince, of course." "It tastes more like spiced pickles to me. Doesn't it to you, Tom?" "Oh, I don't know. It tastes lots better than the pie we got to the poorhouse. I can tell you that!" Mr. Brown, who had tasted his piece, made a funny face. "Are you sure you put enough sugar in?" he asked Sue. "You don't have to put sugar in mince-meat--it's already in," answered his little girl. Mrs. Brown took a taste of Sue's pie. She, too, made a funny face, and then she asked: "Where did you get the jar of mince-meat, Sue?" "From the cupboard where you told me, Momsie, next to the glass jar of peaches." "On which side of the jar of peaches?" "Let me see--it was the side I write my letters with--my right hand, Mother." "Oh dear!" cried Mrs. Brown. "I should have told you! But the egg woman came just then. I should have told you the left side of the jar of peaches. On the right side was a jar of pickled chow-chow. It looks a lot like mince-meat, I know, but it is quite different. The real mince-meat was on the _left_ of the peach jar. Oh, Sue! You've made your pie of chow-chow." "I was thinking Sue had found out a new kind of pie," said Daddy Brown. "Never mind, there are some cakes and cookies." "Oh, dear!" cried Sue, and there were tears in her eyes. "I did so want my mince pie to be nice!" "It was good," said Tom. "The crust is the best I ever ate, and the pickled insides will go good on the fish." Everybody laughed at that, and even Sue smiled. "Next time smell your mince-meat before you put it in a pie," said Mrs. Brown. "Otherwise your pie would have been perfect, Sue." "I will," promised the little girl. Tom became a regular member of Camp Rest-a-While, sleeping in a tent by himself. And he proved so useful, cutting wood, going on errands and even helping with the cooking, that Mrs. Brown said she wondered how she had ever got along without him. He was given some of Uncle Tad's old clothes, that seemed to fit him very well, so he could no longer be called the "ragged boy," and he went in swimming so often, often taking Bunny and Sue along, that all three were as "clean as whistles," Mrs. Brown said. No word had been heard from Mr. Bixby about his missing helper, but Mr. Brown had not given up making inquiries about the "needles." Bunny and Sue missed their electric playthings, but their father brought them other toys from the city with which they had great fun. But still Bunny wished for his electric train, and Sue for her wonderful Teddy bear. One night, just after supper, Mrs. Brown discovered that she needed milk to set some bread for baking in the morning. "I'll go and get it to the farmhouse," said Tom. "And may I go, too?" asked Bunny. It was decided that he could, as it was not late, only dark. So down the dusky road trudged Bunny and Tom, with Splash running along beside them. As it happened, the farmhouse where they usually got the milk had none left, so they had to go on to the next one, which was quite near the edge of the Indian village. "But they won't any of 'em be out now, will they?" asked Bunny. "Oh, the Indians may be sitting outside their cabins, smoking their pipes," said Tom. "Oh, that'll be all right," observed Bunny. "They'll be peace-pipes and they won't hurt us." "Of course not," laughed Tom. From the road in front of the house where they finally got the milk they could look right down into the valley of the Indian encampment. And as Bunny looked he saw a bright fire blazing, and Indians walking or hopping slowly around it. "Oh, Tom, look!" cried the small boy. "What's that? Are the Indians going on the war-path? I read of that in my school book. If they are, we'd better go back and tell Uncle Tad and father. Then they can get their guns and be ready." "Those Indians aren't getting ready for war," said Tom. "They're only having a roast corn dance." "What's a roast corn dance?" asked Bunny. "I'll show you the roast corn part to-morrow night," promised Tom. "But don't worry about those Indians. They'll not hurt you. Now we'd better go home." As soon as Bunny was in the tent he shouted, much louder than he need have done: "Oh, Sue, we saw Indians having a roast corn dance, and to-morrow night we're going to have one too!" _ |
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