Three Little Cousins by Amy Ella Blanchard (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) 📖

We must try to help the poor girl, for her illness and all this will take everything they may have saved. Ellis is pitifully sad, but he says he means to support the family. Poor little chap, as if he could! I am going to try to arrange a bazaar or cake sale or something to help them; you children may help if you like."

"Oh, may we? How lovely!" cried Molly.

"I've helped at fairs," said Grace.

"And once I helped my aunt at a tea she gave the village children," said Mary.

"I'll do everything I can, though I never saw a fair or a bazaar," said Polly. "Tell us more about it, Aunt Ada."

"Tell her all you know, girls," said Aunt Ada. "I must go now. You will not be afraid to stay alone till I get back, will you?"

Her nieces assured her that they would not, and she left them in quite a state of excitement, for, sad as the occasion was, they could not help anticipating the pleasure of the bazaar. "We will have such a lovely time getting ready for the sale," said Molly. "We have had them here before, and they are lots of fun. I know what I am going to do. I'm going to the wood-pile and strip off a whole lot of birch bark to make things of."

"What kind of things?" asked Mary.

"Oh, all sorts of things; napkin rings and picture frames and boxes."

"Oh!" Mary was interested. She had never seen such things except those that the Indian peddlers brought around to the cottages, and never did one appear over the brow of the hill, bowed under the burden of his baskets, that she did not run for her purse, and by now had quite an array of gifts for her English friends. To add to these a supply of birch-bark souvenirs which she could make herself was a prospect truly delightful. "It is very convenient that a quarter is about the same as a shilling," she remarked, "but I can never remember that a penny is two cents; it seems as if an American penny should be the same as an English one."

"I should think you would be glad it isn't," said Polly, "for when you are counting at the rate of our pennies you have twice as many as you would have English ones."

"Well, I don't know," said Mary thoughtfully. "I had a whole pound when I reached here, and Uncle Dick had it changed into American money. I thought I had such a number of pennies and I found they were only cents, but then one can buy a great many things here for a cent that one would have to pay a penny for at home, especially sweets."

That evening she sat fingering her little hoard while Molly was busy preparing her birch bark. "I think I can do very nicely," announced Mary. "I shall have a dollar to spend at the bazaar. Oh, is that the way you do the napkin rings, Molly? Could I do some, do you think?"

"Of course you could," said Molly, encouragingly.

"I know what I am going to do," said Polly, jumping up; "I'm going to get some tiny pine trees to put into little birch-bark boxes; they will look so pretty. Come on, Molly, it isn't dark yet."

"Oh, but we mustn't get them now," replied Molly. "We must wait till the very last thing, so they will look as fresh as possible."

Polly stopped short. In her impetuous way she had forgotten this important point. "Oh, I never thought of that," she said. "Well, anyhow, we can make the boxes."

"I don't believe we can do those either," returned Molly, further dampening Polly's ardor. "We ought to have some small wooden boxes to tack or glue the bark on. We can try some little baskets with handles, and we can fill those with fudge or some kind of home-made candy."

"Oh, very well, we'll begin on those, then." And Polly sat down contentedly with the others to try her ingenuity. They became so absorbed in their work that they forgot all about supper, the more so that their afternoon tea had taken the edge from their appetites, and it was not till the maid from the Whartons came over for Grace, saying that her grandmother was wondering how much longer they must save her supper for her that they realized how late it was. Then Grace having scurried home, the three cousins searched about to see what was in the larder for themselves. They found plenty of bread and butter, ginger-snaps and stewed gooseberries, but not much else, so they sat down contentedly to this fare while the sunset turned from rose to purple and then to gray. It was late enough in the season for the evenings to become chilly after sundown, and Polly proposed that they should have an open fire. "We can sit around and tell stories," she said, "and we can go on with our work at the same time, so the time will pass very quickly till Aunt Ada comes back."

"I'll love that," declared Molly. "I think telling stories is the very nicest way of passing away the time."

"So do I," said Mary, "when I don't have to tell the stories. I never know anything interesting."

"Oh, but you do," protested Polly. "We like to hear about England, of how you have to take off your shoes and put on slippers in the schoolroom, of how you can't walk out without your governess or some one older and all about not having sweet potatoes nor corn, and of how tomatoes are grown under glass and all those ways that are so different from ours."

"But that isn't a real tale," objected Mary.

"Never mind, we like to hear it," said Molly. "What are you doing, Polly?"

"I am building the fire; there must be a whole lot of light stuff to set it going."

"That looks like a good deal," said Molly doubtfully regarding the pile of bark, shaving and light wood that Polly was stowing in the fireplace.

"It will kindle all the quicker," returned Polly in a satisfied voice, touching the kindling with a lighted match. In an instant not only was the light stuff all ablaze, but the flames, leaping out, caught the white apron which Polly had put on, half in sport, when they were getting their supper. It was one of her Aunt Ada's and reached to Polly's ankles, so that she seemed enveloped in flames. She shrieked, but stood still. Quick as a flash Mary caught up the pitcher of water standing on the table and dashed it over her cousin, then she grabbed her and threw her on the floor, snatching up the rug from the floor before doing so, thus protecting herself, and at the same time providing a means of putting out the fire which she did by rolling Polly in the rug.

Molly was perfectly helpless with fright and all she could do was to wring her hands and cry, "Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do? Oh, Polly, Polly!"

Just as the fire was all crushed out, the door opened and in walked their Uncle Dick. Molly rushed to him. Throwing herself in his arms, she cried: "Oh, Polly is burning up! Save her! Save her!"

"What is all this?" said Dick springing forward.

Mary arose from where she was kneeling over Polly. "I think it is all out now," she said.

Polly unwound herself from her mummy-like case. "Are you badly hurt?" her uncle asked anxiously.

"No," she said with a sobbing breath; "only my legs hurt me."

"How did it all happen?" said her uncle, picking her up and setting her in a chair.

"We were kindling the fire," explained Mary, "and Polly's apron caught."

"And Mary saved her life," sobbed Molly completely unnerved. "She threw water on her, and rolled her in the rug."

"That is what my governess said we should do in such cases," said Mary quietly, though her face was twitching. "I never loved Miss Sharp before," she added with a little laugh.

"You certainly did save Polly's life," said her uncle as he examined Polly's clothing. "Fortunately she has on a woolen frock and has been only slightly scorched about the legs. The fire evidently did not reach her bare flesh. You didn't breathe the flames, did you, Polly, for I see the fire did not go above your waist."

"I am sure I didn't breathe any flames," Polly assured him. "Mary was so quick. She saw at once that I had caught fire and she threw the water over me right away, but oh, Uncle Dick, I may not be burned badly, but it does hurt." And she buried her face on her uncle's shoulder to hide her tears.

"Poor little girl, I know it hurts," he said. "Get some salad oil, Molly, and some baking soda; then see if you can find an old handkerchief or two and some raw cotton. We must try to ease this wounded soldier. How did you children happen to be here alone?"

Mary explained, her uncle listening attentively. "I wish I had known it," he said; "I would not have stayed to supper with the boys. We came in on the Gawthrops' yacht about supper-time and they persuaded me to stay, but somehow I felt that I ought to get home soon after. You children must not be left alone again."

"I'll never try to kindle another fire," said Polly woefully. "Molly said I was putting on too much light stuff and it just leaped out like a tiger to bite me."

Molly had returned with the oil and other things by this time, and soon Polly was made as comfortable as her hurts would allow, but it was some days before she could run about, and if there was anything lacking in her affection for her English cousin before this, now it was that she could not bear her out of sight, for Mary, by her coolness and capable help, had proved herself a heroine to be loved and admired.

Although this scare was the important topic with the family for some time, the scheme for helping the distressed Dixon family went forward rapidly and the next week when Polly's burns gave her no more uneasiness, the bazaar was held. There was no prettier table the length of the room than that at which Miss Ada presided, assisted by her three little nieces. Their Uncle Dick had cleverly helped them with the decorations as well as with their birch bark boxes in which were planted the little pine trees. These were so much admired that not one was left after the sale, and Mary had to bespeak some to be made for her to carry home. Some little packages of fudge and home-made candies went off rapidly, and of Luella's famous doughnuts not one was left.

It was at the end of the sale when the biggest, finest cake was yet waiting a buyer that Polly had a whispered talk with her Uncle Dick and afterward stood in front of the cake