Ethel Morton at Sweetbriar Lodge Part 26

The electricians had put in the electric fixtures and they noticed that the dining room side lights of both the dining room and drawing room looked like sconces; that there was a glowing bowl of light in the ceiling above the dinner table; and that the half concealed lights were to give a pleasant radiance in the larger room, while plugs around the wall permitted the use of electric lamps for reading or sewing at many different points.

"How is this little reception room to be done, Mrs. Smith?" asked James as he roamed into a small room just beside the front door.

"This whole floor, all in all, is to have the same color scheme," said Mrs. Smith. "I think this and the hall will be done like the dining room."

"Come out now, and see the maid's sitting room," cried Dorothy. "It is the cunningest thing and so pretty."

The wicker furniture had already come for this room and the attic, and they all exclaimed at the delicate shade of gray rattan which made a charming back-ground for cus.h.i.+ons of flowered chintz.

"I think it's a dear duck of a room!" said Ethel Brown.

"And see the roses on the walls!" exclaimed Dorothy. "And it opens on to a little porch that is going to be covered with rambler roses all summer, if I can possibly make them grow and blossom."

"How many of you people can go to the Metropolitan Museum with me on Sat.u.r.day?" asked Miss Graham. "I know you younger ones are all busy in school now, and the boys are getting ready to go to college, so that is your only day, for we want plenty of time."

There was not one of them who could not go, so they arranged about trains and where they should pick up the Watkinses in New York, and separated with pleasant expectations of the very good time ahead of them.

CHAPTER XIV AT THE METROPOLITAN

d.i.c.ky, the Honorary Member of the United Service Club, had been considered too young to become a member of the party to visit the Metropolitan Museum. He had, however, begged so hard not to be left behind, that Helen and Roger had relented, and had promised to take him if he, in his turn, would agree not to bother Miss Graham by asking more than a million questions every ten minutes. He was also under bond not to stray away from the party.

As it turned out, however, the Honorary Member did not go to New York on the appointed day. He had planned an expedition of his own for purposes of investigation, and the results were such that he was not able to meet his other engagement later on.

Underneath his bobbed hair d.i.c.ky kept a sharp pair of ears and there was very little of the talk about his aunt's new house that had escaped his attention. Among other things he had listened while his sisters and cousins had commented upon the manner in which the kitchen was equipped.

The floor was concrete, the walls were of white tile, the shelves were of gla.s.s, and the cupboard doors of enameled metal.

He had heard his mother say to his Aunt Louise: "Why, you could turn the hose on it to clean it, couldn't you?"

The idea had inflamed his imagination and he determined to see how it would work. Detaching the hose and spray from the bath-room he trotted off immediately after breakfast, intent on putting into effect his mother's idea. It seemed to him that it would be a delight to live in a house where one might enter into the kitchen at any moment and find the cook spraying the walls with a hose. If the reality proved to be as charming as the antic.i.p.ation, he was going to beg his mother to have their own kitchen made over promptly.

The workmen were all upstairs at Sweetbrier Lodge but the lower doors were open so that there was no difficulty in achieving an entrance. He knew how to attach the spray to the faucet and a twist of the fingers turned on the water.

It seemed to him as the first dash struck him full in the face, he having been a little careless about the nozzle, that his Aunt Louise need not have worried about the pressure of the town water. He shook his head like a p.u.s.s.y cat in the rain, but manfully restrained the e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n that leaped to his lips. He was glad that he did, because n.o.body interrupted and the succeeding moments were filled with ecstasy. He sprayed the floor, the electric range, the s.h.i.+ny white table, the glistening cupboards, and, best of all, the gleaming tiles of the walls down which the drops chased each other in a joyous race for the floor.

The moments sped in this entrancing pursuit.

At home a cry for d.i.c.ky had arisen as the time came to dress him for his trip to New York. n.o.body knew where he had gone. It was not until Ethel Brown telephoned to Dorothy that they learned that he had been seen pa.s.sing her house.

"He must have gone to Sweetbrier Lodge for some reason or other," said Ethel Brown. "What on earth possessed him on this morning of all mornings!"

She called to Roger, and he dashed off on the run to see if he could find his wandering brother. None of the workmen at the new house had any knowledge of his whereabouts, and it was not until Roger opened one of the carefully closed doors and was greeted by a dash of water, straight in his waistcoat, that he found the wanderer.

Roger was a boy of even temper but he confessed to his mother afterwards that his fingers ached as never before to impress on d.i.c.ky his disapproval of his occupation.

"What on earth are you doing here?" he demanded, s.n.a.t.c.hing the hose from d.i.c.ky's reluctant fingers, and turning off the water.

"Was.h.i.+ng down the walls," replied d.i.c.ky truthfully.

"Incidentally you've given yourself a good soaking," said Roger, looking at the thoroughly drenched little figure before him. "Here, slip into this coat, and I hope I haven't got to carry you home the whole way, you big, heavy creature."

"I think I'd be warmer if I trotted myself," suggested d.i.c.ky, a little apprehensive of what might happen to him in the way of a bear hug, in his brother's strong arms.

"I guess you're right," said Roger. "We'll have to run like deer, for it's almost time for the car to come for us. This puts an end to your going into town, I suppose you understand, young man."

d.i.c.ky had not thought of losing his other joy while he was realizing his first delight, and he puckered his face for a howl, but before the sound could come out, Roger said: "You brought it on to yourself, so don't yell. This is the natural result of what you've been doing. You can't expect ten people to wait for you to be thoroughly dried and got ready to go into town, can you?"

d.i.c.ky was an uncommonly reasonable child and he swallowed his sobs as he shook his head. There was no farther conversation, for both boys were running as fast as Roger's legs could set the pace. d.i.c.ky's strides were a.s.sisted by his brother, who seized his arm and helped him over the ground with giant steps.

Mrs. Morton's view of the situation seemed to be painfully like Roger's, and d.i.c.ky found himself put into the care of Mary and an unnaturally rough bath towel, his only part in the expedition that had promised such happiness to him, being the sight of his relatives climbing into his grandfather's automobile and das.h.i.+ng off toward Glen Point, where they were to pick up Miss Graham and the Hanc.o.c.ks.

When the party reached New York they made up their minds that they might as well approach the Museum containing many beautiful objects by the prettiest way possible, so at 59th Street the car swept into Central Park. As they entered, Miss Graham called their attention to the golden statue of General Sherman, made by the famous sculptor, Saint-Gaudens. As they neared the Museum, she pointed out Cleopatra's needle, an Egyptian shaft covered with hieroglyphics.

"The poor old stone has had a hard time in this climate," said Roger. "It has scaled off terribly, hasn't it?"

"They are trying to preserve it by a preparation of parafine," said Miss Graham.

"I should think it would have to be repeated every winter," said Helen.

"It doesn't seem as if parafine was much of a protection against heavy frost."

Just inside the entrance of the building they found Della and Tom awaiting them. Miss Graham called their attention first to the tapestries hanging in the entrance hall, and told them something of the patient work that went into the production of one of these great sheets of painstaking embroidery.

"Are they making them anywhere, nowadays?" asked Ethel Blue.

"When the war is over and you go to Paris, you can see the tapestry workers in the Gobelins factory," said Miss Daisy. "Every machine has hung upon it the picture which the worker is copying. It may take a man six or seven years to complete one piece."

"Shouldn't you think he would be sick to death of it!" exclaimed Dorothy.

"I suppose the first year he tells himself he must be pleasant, so that he will see the picture get started. In the second year perhaps he'll be ready to put in the feet of his figures. Then all the middle years must be comparatively exciting because he's doing the central part of the picture; and the last year he has a sort of a thrill because it's almost done, even though the work may be all in the clouds."

"I judge that they make landscapes with figures, chiefly," guessed James.

"Many of them are landscapes with figures," replied Miss Daisy. "They have a wide variety of objects. The factory belongs to the government and the pieces are used as decorations for government buildings, and as gifts to people of other countries. The French Government gave Miss Alice Roosevelt a piece of Gobelin when she was married. I've seen it on exhibition in the Art Museum at Cincinnati."

"I suppose all the workmen now have gone to the war, and the factory is closed," said Tom.

"Probably. The men who work there now are descendants, sometimes in the third or fourth generation, of the early workers. They hold their positions for life and although their pay is not large they also have each a cottage and piece of land on the grounds of the factory."

As the U. S. C. ascended the great stair-way they pa.s.sed numerous impressive busts and stopped to look at all of them. Most of the men were famous Americans, whose names were already familiar to the young people.

"Now," said Miss Graham, as they reached the head of the stairs, "later on we can choose the kind of thing we would like especially to see, but first I want to show you two or three pictures and we can talk a little about them. Then perhaps we will enjoy better the pictures we see afterwards."

"I am sure we shall," answered Roger, politely, although his heart was yearning for the Riggs collection of armor.

Miss Daisy read his mind.