Grove instead?
thought Joe.
Joe glanced back at Jane and Rufus. They were swinging their legs and had made no move to jump down.
"Hey, how about our driving this man to Orchard Grove?" he asked them.
"All right." Unanimous consent from Rufus and Jane.
"Salvation Army's just like Sunday School," said Jane.
"But Mama might worry if we're late getting back," said Joe. "Let's see now ... I know what ... we could leave a message for Sylvie."
"On the drinking trough!" said Jane.
"Yes, Sylvie always stops for a drink on her way home," agreed Joey.
Joe had a piece of white chalk in his pocket among all his other valuables, as almost any boy would. Not a boy like Rufus, of course. Not one who had to have his clothes changed every other minute so you could never count on his pocket collection. But Joe had a nice piece of white chalk in his pocket and he handed it to Jane.
"Write big so she won't miss it," he said.
On the dry part of the drinking trough, where the words would not be washed away, Jane printed a short message which said, "Sylvie, we have gone with the Savashun Army. Joe, Jane, Rufus."
"There," she said with satisfaction. "She surely won't miss that."
Then the horse had a drink and they all had a drink, and now they were ready. Up they all climbed and
clup, clup
, down Main Street past the Green to the good hard dirt road that led to Shingle Hill.
The man kept right on sleeping. You would think that bumping over the little wooden bridge at the foot of Shingle Hill would awaken him. But no. He didn't even stir.
Up shingle Hill in a horse and wagon! Many were the times they had plodded wearily up that steep hill on foot to pick violets, or goldenrod and asters. Now up, up the horse drew the light wagon and the three children and the sleeping man. Janey looked at the man, his head on a pile
of newspapers. Yes, he was still asleep. And from time to time he snored, much to everybody's delight. The children began to sing. How far behind them now were Main Street, Sunday School, pot roast, and onions. Up, up, up Shingle Hill.
Rufus and Jane had to hang on tight as they slowly climbed the steep grade.
Joe yelled to them, "If the road gets too steep and the horse stops, you'll have to jump off quick, get a big rock, and put it under the wheel so we won't slide back down the hill."
"Right," said Rufus, "I've seen it done."
But there was no need for emergency measures. The horse was young and strong, and with a slow, steady pace he pulled them all over the brow of the hill. Here Joe drew up at the side of the road. The horse started eating branches off a crab-apple tree.
The Salvation Army man slept on. But the children jumped down, stretched their legs, and looked at the view. Way off through the trees they could see the white spire of Peter Frost's church on the Green. The flagpole, too. Farther on, the sun caught the sparkle of the water of the harbor, and way off on the other side of the harbor they could just make out the slumbering form of the Sleeping Giant—three round hills, lying close together and resembling a huge being resting under a mantle of green trees.
After a few moments Janey said, "We better be going or we'll get the minister here late to the revival meeting."
"Minister!" ejaculated Rufus. "He's not a minister, is he?"
"Well, sort of. And see, he has CAPTAIN on his hat."
"Captain!" repeated Rufus with awe in his voice. "We better take good care of him."
"Well, Captain or no Captain, I wish he had fallen asleep on the newspapers in the back of the wagon, so we could all sit in front," said Jane.
The three looked at the man, but snores were their only answer.
There was beginning to be something exasperating about those snores. "Hey, Captain," yelled Janey.
But the Captain slept on.
"The drum!" said Rufus, reaching for it and sounding a deafening tattoo on it.
Sure enough! The drum did it. The man leaped out of his seat to the ground. He started to wave his arms and talk.
thought Joe.
Joe glanced back at Jane and Rufus. They were swinging their legs and had made no move to jump down.
"Hey, how about our driving this man to Orchard Grove?" he asked them.
"All right." Unanimous consent from Rufus and Jane.
"Salvation Army's just like Sunday School," said Jane.
"But Mama might worry if we're late getting back," said Joe. "Let's see now ... I know what ... we could leave a message for Sylvie."
"On the drinking trough!" said Jane.
"Yes, Sylvie always stops for a drink on her way home," agreed Joey.
Joe had a piece of white chalk in his pocket among all his other valuables, as almost any boy would. Not a boy like Rufus, of course. Not one who had to have his clothes changed every other minute so you could never count on his pocket collection. But Joe had a nice piece of white chalk in his pocket and he handed it to Jane.
"Write big so she won't miss it," he said.
On the dry part of the drinking trough, where the words would not be washed away, Jane printed a short message which said, "Sylvie, we have gone with the Savashun Army. Joe, Jane, Rufus."
"There," she said with satisfaction. "She surely won't miss that."
Then the horse had a drink and they all had a drink, and now they were ready. Up they all climbed and
clup, clup
, down Main Street past the Green to the good hard dirt road that led to Shingle Hill.
The man kept right on sleeping. You would think that bumping over the little wooden bridge at the foot of Shingle Hill would awaken him. But no. He didn't even stir.
Up shingle Hill in a horse and wagon! Many were the times they had plodded wearily up that steep hill on foot to pick violets, or goldenrod and asters. Now up, up the horse drew the light wagon and the three children and the sleeping man. Janey looked at the man, his head on a pile
of newspapers. Yes, he was still asleep. And from time to time he snored, much to everybody's delight. The children began to sing. How far behind them now were Main Street, Sunday School, pot roast, and onions. Up, up, up Shingle Hill.
Rufus and Jane had to hang on tight as they slowly climbed the steep grade.
Joe yelled to them, "If the road gets too steep and the horse stops, you'll have to jump off quick, get a big rock, and put it under the wheel so we won't slide back down the hill."
"Right," said Rufus, "I've seen it done."
But there was no need for emergency measures. The horse was young and strong, and with a slow, steady pace he pulled them all over the brow of the hill. Here Joe drew up at the side of the road. The horse started eating branches off a crab-apple tree.
The Salvation Army man slept on. But the children jumped down, stretched their legs, and looked at the view. Way off through the trees they could see the white spire of Peter Frost's church on the Green. The flagpole, too. Farther on, the sun caught the sparkle of the water of the harbor, and way off on the other side of the harbor they could just make out the slumbering form of the Sleeping Giant—three round hills, lying close together and resembling a huge being resting under a mantle of green trees.
After a few moments Janey said, "We better be going or we'll get the minister here late to the revival meeting."
"Minister!" ejaculated Rufus. "He's not a minister, is he?"
"Well, sort of. And see, he has CAPTAIN on his hat."
"Captain!" repeated Rufus with awe in his voice. "We better take good care of him."
"Well, Captain or no Captain, I wish he had fallen asleep on the newspapers in the back of the wagon, so we could all sit in front," said Jane.
The three looked at the man, but snores were their only answer.
There was beginning to be something exasperating about those snores. "Hey, Captain," yelled Janey.
But the Captain slept on.
"The drum!" said Rufus, reaching for it and sounding a deafening tattoo on it.
Sure enough! The drum did it. The man leaped out of his seat to the ground. He started to wave his arms and talk.
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