Better than Play Part 18

But Charlie only shook his head more and more emphatically.

"Why, a swarm of bees," he burst out, unable to keep his secret any longer, "bee-skip and all; and the man is bringing them almost at once."

"Bees?" cried Tom. "What do you know about bees?"

"Nothing; but I s'pose I can learn. Come and choose a place for the bee-skip to stand. Where shall they go?"

"Oh, not anywhere near me!" cried Bella; "I don't like bees."

"P'raps you'll like the honey. The man says he had pounds and pounds of honey last year. Come on, Bella. Come and help me choose a spot."

Bella went, but not very joyfully, and Tom followed. "You won't expect me to help you look after them, will you?" she asked nervously, "for I tell you I am afraid of them."

"Oh no," said Charlie seriously; "and when the honey is ready for market, I'll walk behind the cart with it, for fear it should sting you."

Bella laughed. "Tom," she called back, "can you paint a sign-board?

I'm sure we ought to have one over the gate to say 'Fruit, flowers, vegetables, honey, eggs, fowls, porkers, and dried herbs sold here.'"

The idea pleased the boys immensely. "Can't we sell anything else?" cried Charlie. "Do try and think of something."

"Perhaps Aunt Emma will sell cakes and apple-pasties, and provide tea and coffee for twopence a cup."

"And a penny more to watch Charlie's bees," laughed Bella. "Oh, here comes Margery. Perhaps she has come to say she has bought a cow!

Wouldn't it be fun!"

Charlie burst into a peal of laughter. "Hullo, Margery!" he shouted; "what have you got? A cow?"

Margery stood still in the path and stared at him, her blue eyes full of puzzled surprise.

"A cow?" she repeated, as though she could hardly believe her ears.

"How should I have a cow? What do you mean?" looking questioningly from one to the other.

"Do you mean to say you haven't brought home anything new?"

"Why, yes, I've got two of the dearest darling little white ducks you ever saw in all your life. Bella, do come and see them! Mrs. Carter gave them to me, and I've brought them home in a basket, but I've been a long time, because I let them paddle in all the nice big puddles we came to, and oh, they loved it. Do come, all of you. Oh, they are so pretty, and I think they know me already. I've called one Snowdrop, and the other Daisy.

Hark!" she cried, as they hurried after her, "don't you hear them calling to me?"

"I should think I did," laughed Tom. "They were shouting, 'Mag, Mag, Mag,' as plain as could be. I hope Charlie's bees won't begin shouting to him, too, or we shan't be able to hear ourselves speak. I shouldn't be surprised if we grew to love them best of all, because they are nice and quiet."

"You wait till they are angry," said Charlie knowingly, "or are swarming----"

"That's just what I shan't wait for," said Bella.

"Oh!" cried Margery, as though her patience was exhausted, "don't keep on talking so, please. I do want to hear my ducks. There!" as they suddenly came on the little yellow, waddling, screaming creatures, "ain't they lovely?"

"Lovely?" cried Charlie. "Why, you said they were white."

"Well, they will be," she explained eagerly. "Of course they are yellow to begin with. All the best ones are. Look at their feathers beginning to come already. Hush, hush, dears, don't cry so! I expect they were frightened 'cause I went away," she explained, as she knelt down and took them both in her arms.

"Where are they going to sleep to-night?" asked Bella.

Margery looked up with a troubled face. "I s'pose Aunt Emma wouldn't let them sleep in my room, in a basket? They would be very good, I'm sure.

I wish she would." But Bella a.s.sured her there was no hope of that, and that it would be better for the little ducks to be out of doors in the sun and fresh air. So Snowdrop and Daisy were, to their great delight, turned loose in the orchard, and at night a nice roomy chicken-coop was provided for them, and there they grew plump and white, and were as happy as the days were long.

"Tom, you really must put up that sign," said Bella, laughing, as they all trooped back to the house to get ready for dinner.

"Well, if I don't do it soon," said Tom, "I shall have to have too, that's certain."

But there was no time for sign-painting for the next few months, for already the work was almost more than they could get through.

All of them, even Aunt Emma, lent a hand with the digging and raking and planting out; but, there was no doubt about it, they did seriously miss their father's help. All the weariness, the aching backs and bones, and galled hands were forgotten, though, when the hardest of the work was over, and they began to see the results of all their toil.

The long stretch of grey-green bushes in Bella's lavender-bed was a sight that year, and her flower-beds were a picture. Charlie's bees soon discovered them, and Bella often declared that except for the time when the beans were in flower and drew the bees away, she had no peace or pleasure with her flowers from the time they began to bloom until after they were gathered and sold.

"I am sure I ought to have half the profits from the honey," she laughed, "for I nearly keep the bees!"

That summer Rocket's loads grew so large that a pony had to be hired to take his place sometimes, for Aunt Emma's fowls and eggs added considerably to the weight and to the number of baskets they had to get into the cart. So soon did they repay themselves for the cost of the fowl-house, that before autumn was past Bella had begun once more to hope that her dream of a stall in the market might yet be realised, and shortly too.

They had so much to sell now, and such a variety of things, that it took them a very long time to find customers for all, and it was very, very, tiring work, they found, to go round from house to house, all over the hilly little town. It meant long, weary hours of tramping, and often they could not get home till quite late. Then, quite suddenly, one day, when they had got home late, and more than usually tired, the next and long-hoped-for step was decided upon. They would rent a stall in the market for the winter months, at any rate, and they would begin on the very next Sat.u.r.day as ever was.

When once this great step was decided upon, preparations had to begin at once, and in earnest, for long white cloths to cover the shelves had to be bought and made, to make them look clean and dainty. In a state of great excitement they all practised on the kitchen table how they would arrange the things, and how they should be laid out to look their best and be most attractive.

Margery looked on with the keenest interest. "Oh, Aunt Emma, do let me go with them on Sat.u.r.day. Just this once," she pleaded eagerly. "I don't weigh very heavy, and I'm sure the pony wouldn't mind me, and I'd be ever so good. I wouldn't be a bit of trouble, not the very least little bit.

May I? Daddy, do say yes! Tom and Bella will take care of me."

Aunt Emma looked at her doubtfully, but there was a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Well, take care you don't get sold too," she said; "if you do, I shan't buy you back, I promise you. I've a good mind to walk in myself in the afternoon," she added, turning to her brother.

"I haven't seen Norton Market for years, and I've often felt I'd like to.

I little thought I should ever be helping to have a stall there. I really think I must go in, William."

"You could drive home," said Tom readily. "Bella can manage the pony, and I'll walk."

Bella was looking at her father, all her thoughts centred on him.

The only shadow on their day, the day when they would reach the height of their ambition, was that he would not be there to see it. She knew that he was feeling it too. It would have been such a pleasure to him, such a grand break in the monotony of his life, if he could have gone too.

"Oh, it must be managed somehow; some way must be found," she thought desperately--and then inspiration came to her.

"Father, you must come too," she cried, "or--or it won't be a bit right.

Aunt Emma, can't we manage like this, just for once? Suppose you drive in with Tom and all the things in the morning,"--and she choked back her disappointment that, after all her dreams and hopes and longings, she would not be there herself to arrange her first market-stall,--"then I will drive father in later in Mrs. Wintle's donkey-cart. Do you think you could bear the drive, father?" she asked anxiously, her eyes alight with excitement.

"I believe it would do me good," he answered eagerly. His face had been growing brighter and brighter all the time Bella had been speaking, and his poor tired eyes were as full of a wistful longing, as were Margery's a few moments before. "I've thought many a time how nice a little outing would be, and I do want to see the children make their new venture,"

he added, turning to his sister. "It's one I've been wanting for them ever since the beginning."

So it was all settled, and in her joy and pride at taking her father for his first outing, she quite forgot her desire to arrange their first stall.

To Margery there was nothing wanting in her pleasure. To be allowed to go to Norton and sit like a real market-woman behind a real stall with scales and paper bags and measures; to see the people come up and buy, and open their purses and hand money to Tom or Aunt Emma, and then to see Tom or Aunt Emma go to the cash-box and put in the money and take out the change, was all wonderful and lovely enough, but to have her father there too made everything quite perfect; and her only trouble was that so many hours had to be lived through, somehow, before these wonderful things could happen.

After all, it was not so very long to wait. To the others the time was all too short for all they had to do. There were fowls and ducks to pluck and truss, and pack in the snow-white cloths in the big shallow baskets; and eggs to pack; flowers to gather and tie up in tastefully arranged bunches; vegetables to scrub and trim, and baskets of honey, bottles of herbs, and home-made jams to pack. There was a great deal to do, but their hearts were in the work, and all felt proud enough of their little show when it was ready.

To Margery's relief the great day came at last, and, as though it knew what was expected of it, it dawned as bright and beautiful as any one could desire. All were up early, but Charlie was the first to start, as he was going to walk the whole distance. Tom and Aunt Emma and Margery started an hour later, but Bella and her father did not leave until eleven, when the day was at its warmest and brightest, and as they drove along the sunny road with the beautiful fresh breeze blowing gently on their faces, Bella thought she had never, never in her life before felt so glad and proud.