<h2 class='c006'>CHAPTER XII<br/> <span class='large'>MY HEADSTRONG SISTER</span></h2></div>
<p class='c010'>I am very much disturbed about something
to-night. However, what is the use of worrying?
What will be, will be, and if you can't
prevent a thing, don't vex your brains over
it, but keep cool and calm, and reserve your
strength to mend the mischief after it's
done.</p>
<p class='c000'>My dear sister is, I fancy, running her
head into trouble. Slyboots and I both fear
it, but we can't stop her. She has announced
her intention of spending to-morrow night
hunting in company with—well, I can hardly
believe it possible—Blizzard and his wife
Rosy.</p>
<p class='c000'>It happened this way. Right after breakfast—and
I am surprised to find out how
early the farmer's family gets up—Joker
<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>bounded up-stairs, and said that Serena and
I and Slyboots had callers.</p>
<p class='c000'>We were all three sleeping on an old
feather bed in a big hall closet. Of course
we got up and stretched ourselves, and went
down the front staircase.</p>
<p class='c000'>The Denvilles were all asleep, but in the
kitchen the farmer's wife was frying eggs
and making corncake for her husband and
the young man Denno.</p>
<p class='c000'>We cats went out on the veranda. No
callers there. “They are in the orchard,”
exclaimed Joker, and he plunged on excitedly.</p>
<p class='c000'>They were not in the young orchard where
the fight had taken place, but in the old one,
sitting demurely under the shade of some currant
bushes.</p>
<p class='c000'>I could hardly believe my eyes, when I saw
who our callers were—that impudent Blizzard
and his wife.</p>
<p class='c000'>I drew back, and so did Serena and Slyboots,
but Joker plowed on. We looked at
each other. There is a perfect understanding
between us three; that is, when Serena
<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>is not provoking. That is one good thing
that came out of Serena's fight. It has
drawn Slyboots closer to us.</p>
<p class='c000'>Well, we paused, and finally Joker paused,
and looked expectantly at Blizzard. Then the
sly, old, gray cat came forward, and bowing
very low, addressed himself to Serena.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Madam,” he said, with what I thought a
very exaggerated manner, “I have come to
offer you an apology for yesterday. I did
not dream, I assure you, that it was one of
your exalted lineage that I was attacking.”</p>
<p class='c000'>Serena still looked doubtful.</p>
<p class='c000'>Blizzard bowed again, yet more humbly.
“Am I mistaken in supposing,” he continued
meekly, “that you are of pure Angora blood,
and that your forebears probably came from
the celebrated cat-farm not very far from us
in this state?”</p>
<p class='c000'>Serena glanced at me. “My father is a
thoroughbred Angora,” she said, “and he
did come from Maine.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“Then it's just as I supposed,” continued
Blizzard. “Kneel down, Rosy,” and the old
<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>hypocrite, for such I fear he is, made his
wife kneel at Serena's feet.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Honor youth, and beauty, and high lineage,
madam,” he continued firmly, “and if
you cannot look like this young cat, at least
act like her.”</p>
<p class='c000'>This was the time for Serena to confess
that she was only half Angora, that her
mother was a back-yard cat. However, she
did not do it, and I did not feel called upon
to put her to shame.</p>
<p class='c000'>Blizzard went on blarneying her. He paid
no attention to Slyboots and me, and we
gazed irritably at each other.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Madam,” he said flatteringly, “the
country is infested with tramp cats.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“It isn't,” whispered Slyboots in my ear,
“Aunt Tabby told me it isn't.”</p>
<p class='c000'>Blizzard went on. “And being one of the
guardians of the peace about here, whenever
I see a strange cat, I fly at it.”</p>
<p class='c000'>This was too much for Serena, and she
said, “But are you not sometimes in danger
of mauling the wrong cat? All cats are not
bad.”</p>
<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>“Maul first, and ask questions afterward,”
said Blizzard, “that's my motto.
Strangers ought to stay at home.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“But you would put a stop to travel, and
improvement of the mind,” replied Serena
sweetly.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Madam,” and he bowed low, “if all
strangers were like you, but they are not—and
anyway, my own neighborhood is good
enough for me. I don't want to travel.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“I dislike to criticise your words,” remarked
Serena politely, “but it seems to me
they are just a little narrow-minded. We
learn much by our contact with our fellow
cats in foreign places.”</p>
<p class='c000'>Blizzard smiled sweetly, and showed a set
of very bad teeth. “In time, I dare say you
will bring me over to your opinion. At present,
I should like to have a little further conversation
with you. Will you walk with me
and Rosy?”</p>
<p class='c000'>All this time, he had never noticed Slyboots
and me, beyond throwing us one
shrewd glance. He saw that we did not approve
of him, and he would not be bothered
<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>with us. His present plan was to get Serena
out of our reach, so he could fool her to his
heart's content.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Don't go with them, Serena,” and I
stepped up, and whispered in her ear.</p>
<p class='c000'>She tossed her head, then sauntered along
with Blizzard and Rosy.</p>
<p class='c000'>Joker followed them, grinning from ear to
ear, and Slyboots and I returned slowly to
the house.</p>
<p class='c000'>The farmer's wife gave us a good breakfast,
then we lay out on the veranda in the
sun. When an hour had passed, after the
Denvilles had had their breakfast, Serena
and Joker reappeared. Serena was laughing
and talking excitedly, and shaking her head,
and seemed to be in high good humor with
herself and all the cat world.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Where have you been?” I inquired anxiously,
as she passed me.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Oh, having a walk on the meadow with
those two delightful cats. I am going out
again with them to-morrow evening,” and
she looked mysterious.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Serena!” I exclaimed. Then after a
<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>while, I asked her why she was going with
those strangers.</p>
<p class='c000'>For a long time, she would not tell me. She
said it was a secret.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Have you promised not to tell?” I
asked.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Yes,” she said she had.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Then don't,” I replied, but then she
wanted to, and at last whispered that she was
going on a mole-hunt.</p>
<p class='c000'>I was not much enlightened. However, I
said nothing more at the time. I just worried
in secret. Serena and Joker disappeared in
the house in search of something to eat, and
I coiled myself up again on the veranda, for
by this time the sun was further up in the
sky, and the air felt quite warm.</p>
<p class='c000'>After a time, Mary and her mother came
out. They both had on big sun hats, and
they stood for a few minutes looking silently
at the lovely view out through the maples.
The Green Hills were soft and hazy in the
distance, and near at hand were the fine
shade trees, and the shock-headed pink and
white apple-trees.</p>
<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>“Glorious,” murmured Mrs. Denville,
“too glorious to linger indoors. Come,
Mary, let us go over the farm.”</p>
<p class='c000'>My little mistress held out a hand to me,
and being eager to follow, I sprang up and
circled round her.</p>
<p class='c000'>Stepping off the veranda to a gravel walk,
they went round by the well to the carriage-house.</p>
<p class='c000'>There was a huge door in front of it quite
closed, and I wondered how Mrs. Denville
would open it. She just laid a hand on it,
and it slid back quite easily. “These doors
are more convenient than the old-fashioned
ones,” she said to Mary.</p>
<p class='c000'>I peeped in. This was very interesting.
There were different kinds of wagons, and
carriages, and queer sorts of machines that
Mrs. Denville told Mary were for planting
seed, and cutting, and raking hay. A wide
stairway led to a loft above, and I went tripping
up-stairs after Mrs. Denville and Mary.
Here were sleighs covered with white cloths,
a long carpenter's bench with pots of paint,
and bottles of different kinds, several stoves
<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>and a lot of pipe, some old chairs and
tables—it seemed to be a kind of lumber
room.</p>
<p class='c000'>“How did Farmer Gleason get these
sleighs up here?” asked Mary with wide-open
eyes.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Sleighs can be taken apart,” said her
mother, “and even if they couldn't be, two
strong, country men would think nothing of
dragging a thing like a sleigh up that wide
flight of steps. Now let us go down and visit
the next building.”</p>
<p class='c000'>This one was not as large as the carriage-house,
and Mrs. Denville and Mary did not
go in, but contented themselves with looking
in the doorway. It was piled high with wood,
and Mrs. Denville asked her little daughter
if she knew why there was so much wood
there.</p>
<p class='c000'>“No,” said Mary, “I do not.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“It is a frugal way that farming people
have,” replied her mother. “Mr. Gleason
was telling us about it last evening. The
farmers cut their wood sometimes a year in
advance, and pile it up under cover to dry
<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>thoroughly. It lasts longer, and is easier to
burn than green wood. Now let us go on to
the big barn.”</p>
<p class='c000'>We three sauntered along in the warm sunlight.
Mary had her arm tucked through
her mother's. The child was so happy that
she did not know what to do. It seemed as
if half the sunshine had caught in her face
and stayed there.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Oh! oh!” she murmured, when we
reached the barn and went in through a little
door that was set in a big door. “Oh! smell
the hay, mamma.”</p>
<p class='c000'>I stared about me. Away up in the air
was the top of the big building. There was
hay up there—not very much of it, but
enough to make a good smell.</p>
<p class='c000'>“This is the hay that they cut from the
meadow,” said Mary. “Oh! I hope they
will bring in some more to-day.”</p>
<p class='c000'>Mrs. Denville smiled at her. “Mary
dear, I am not much of a farmer, but I know
more than you do. That is last year's hay.
The men have not begun to cut this year's
grass. When they do, this big barn will be
<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>crammed with it, from the floor up to those
little windows in the peak.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“Then I shall see them,” remarked Mary
in an ecstasy. “I shall be able to watch
the men cutting the grass and putting it in
the wagons, and perhaps I can ride on top.
Oh! say I can, mamma.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“Certainly, dear, if your father consents.
Now let us see what is in this room,” and
Mrs. Denville opened a door.</p>
<p class='c000'>I drew back, for as she opened the door,
the cat Thummie sprang out. However, I
had no cause for fright, for Thummie went
up a ladder like a flash, and disappeared
among the hay.</p>
<p class='c000'>“This is the granary,” said Mrs. Denville,
“how neat it is,” and she glanced approvingly
about her.</p>
<p class='c000'>The floor was swept and clean, and there
were rows of things like big boxes against
the wall.</p>
<p class='c000'>“These are bins,” explained Mrs. Denville
to Mary. “After the grain is thrashed
it is put in here. See, this is some kind of
coarse flour—I don't know the name,” and
<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>as she lifted the cover of the big box she
looked about her as if seeking information.</p>
<p class='c000'>“That is feeding flour, madam,” said the
hired man Denno, appearing just in the nick
of time.</p>
<p class='c000'>“And this is middlings,” he went on, stepping
forward, and putting down a pail of
water that he held in his hand.</p>
<p class='c000'>He lifted another lid and then another.
“This is bran,” he said, “and I am just
going to mix some for the pigs.”</p>
<p class='c000'>He put his hand in a third box, took a tin
dipper, and lifting it out full of bran, mixed
it in the water with a stick.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Oh! may we see the pigs?” cried Mary
eagerly. “Come, mamma dear.”</p>
<p class='c000'>Mrs. Denville was going round the grain
room, lifting more lids and murmuring to
herself, “Cracked corn, buckwheat, oats,
rye, wheat.”</p>
<p class='c000'>At Mary's request, she left the room, and
followed Denno down a rather steep stairway.</p>
<p class='c000'>“This is what we call the barn cellar
down here, little miss,” said the young man
<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>over his shoulder to Mary who was next
him.</p>
<p class='c000'>“Why, it is lovely and light,” exclaimed
my little mistress. “I should think a barn
cellar would be dark.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“Look at the windows,” said her mother,
“see the sun streaming in.”</p>
<p class='c000'>“It's as warm as toast here in winter,
ma'am,” said the young man. “Water
never freezes here.”</p>
<p class='c000'>At this moment such a din arose that we
could scarcely hear him. Mary in a great
fright hid her face in her mother's arms, and
I paused half-way down the steps to look
about me.</p>
<div class='chapter'>
<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>
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