The Eagle's Nest Part 3

When John embarked on a thoroughly unreasonable grumble, it was no good arguing with him or interrupting him until he stopped from sheer loss of breath. So while he went on fault-finding, Madge was making up her mind to a great resolve. When at last he came to an end, she spoke out so decidedly that the twins were compelled to listen to her.

"Do you want to make the Eagle's Nest a great success--much the nicest thing we have ever done, or do you want to give it up altogether?" she inquired sternly.

"Not give it up! Of course, not give it up!" cried the two younger ones.

"Very well. I'm glad you said that. It would be a very cowardly and stupid thing to give it up when we have gone so far, but you can do just as you like."

"I never wanted to give it up," began John, in an injured tone; "only I don't want--"

"Well, if we are going on with it, I have quite settled what we will do," interrupted Madge briskly. "We will work away as hard as we can at it all the afternoon, and then whatever state it is in when the tea-bell rings we will declare it finished for the present, and begin to use it to play in. Of course, we can improve it as much as we like after, but we won't go on working any more just at present."

This suggestion met with general approval, for though the children had not at first minded the hard work of dragging branches from the wood-stack, now that much the same thing had been going on for a fortnight, they were getting rather tired of it and beginning to want a change. But after Madge's sensible proposal they worked away with all their first energy for the next two hours, and by the time the distant sounds of the tea-bell were heard across the fields, a very nice little platform had been built in the tree.

"I don't know what anybody could want better!" cried Madge, clapping her hands in high glee. "We will open it on Monday afternoon."

"It looks pretty open now without any walls or ceiling," observed John, who was always a little contradictory.

"Of course I mean open it as the Prince of Wales opens a hospital,"

Madge said with dignity.

"I know that well enough! You needn't always think I'm so stupid!"

growled John.

This kind of conversation took place several times a day, but seldom ended in a real quarrel unless the children were rather tired or cross.

To-day they were fortunately all in capital spirits at having finished their great work.

It seemed long to wait until Monday afternoon. But at last the time pa.s.sed, and they were all standing together under the great beech-tree, with Madge explaining how the opening ceremony was to be performed.

"We will ascend the grand staircase," she said, "and standing in the a.s.sembly-room, the president (that's me, you know) will declare the buildings to be solemnly opened for public use."

This certainly sounded very well, though n.o.body knew exactly what it meant. The fact was that Madge repeated certain sentences she had read in newspapers, without troubling very much about the meaning.

"And when you've done that what shall we do?" inquired John.

"Well, if you can't think of anything to play when you have got into the Eagle's Nest you had better stay in the nursery and play with Baby," said Madge scornfully.

"Let us begin to ascend directly, and then we shall have more time for playing," interposed Betty, intent on keeping the peace.

"The president leads the way, of course!" exclaimed Madge, planting her toe in one of the niches of the wall. "I suppose both of you are obliged to use all the steps," she added carelessly. "I am so tall that I can stretch two at a time."

"So can I!" chimed in John; "it's only Betty who can't reach. Just get out of the way and I'll show you what I can do."

He immediately lifted his foot to the level of his chin, grabbed wildly at a projecting stone far above his head, missed it, and fell heavily on his back in a tuft of sting-nettles.

There was a good deal of confusion. Both the girls very kindly tried to help their brother up, and were naturally rather indignant when he hit out wildly at them, under the mistaken impression that they had pushed him down. Then they all stung their hands, and there was a long argument about who ought to have cleared the sting-nettles away from under the tree. But the simple idea of making up for past neglect by doing it now did not occur to any of them.

At last Madge recalled them all to their senses by declaring that she saw old Barton, the farm-man, in the distance, carrying the milk-pails.

Though he was two fields off there could be no mistake, because he kept the pails so brightly polished that they glittered like diamonds in the sun. And he never started to milk the cows until the stable clock had struck four, so his appearance was a positive proof that the afternoon was pa.s.sing rapidly by.

"I say, it's nearly tea-time! And I thought we had only just finished dinner! I do believe holiday afternoons are much shorter than others!"

exclaimed John.

He was so overcome by this discovery that he allowed Madge to mount the grand staircase without interruption. But she did not avail herself of the rare chance of making a dignified welcoming speech to the younger ones as they climbed up behind her, for at that moment she was seized by a new idea of such importance that she was almost choked with anxiety to impart it at once to the others.

"This building is open!" she shouted impatiently. "And come on quickly, you two! I want to tell--"

"That's not the way people open things!" interrupted John. "It takes a much longer time than that. You ought to say its name, and make a speech about what it will be used for. Oughtn't she, Betty?"

Betty said nothing. She made a general rule of backing up her elder sister in family disputes, and yet she could not help feeling that in this case John had a just cause of complaint. The ceremony had been very disappointing.

"Very well then," said Madge, seeing that it was no use to fight against public opinion, "I suppose I must do it all over again.

Although I have something to say that you can't even imagine."

"I don't believe there is such a thing," said John stolidly. "I can imagine anything a girl can, I know that."

Old as she was, Madge nearly cried with impatience. "If you are going to contradict and argue," she began, "it's no good--"

"We will be quiet! We will really!" interrupted Betty, who, on the whole, had a peace-loving disposition.

"Very well then," said Madge, recovering herself a little, but still speaking with rather terrific dignity. "I declare this Eagle's Nest open. It has been erected regardless of trouble and expense by--by--"

"The young eagles," suggested Betty.

"Yes, by the young eagles," continued Madge, "for the use and amus.e.m.e.nt of--of--"

"The young eagles," again suggested Betty.

"Of course! Amus.e.m.e.nt of the young eagles," repeated Madge rather inattentively, for she was thinking of something else. "And we hope they will enjoy it! And I think that's all. Now I'll tell you my last plan!"

"All right!" muttered John, settling himself with a contented grunt upon the sticks. Now that the new building had been properly opened, his mind was at rest.

"Well, this is what I think," began Madge. "It's rather absurd for us to have a grand staircase up to our place of refuge. What we want is a ladder that we can pull up after us so that the enemy can't follow!"

"What a splendid idea!" said Betty admiringly. "But I am afraid Barton would never allow us to take his ladders out of the barn. He is always dreadfully cross if we only take them out to look at a bird's nest, and he finds they have gone. And he would be sure to see us carrying them across the fields."

"Yes, but you see I have thought of all that!" replied Madge with a smile of superior wisdom. "I told you I had a good idea, and I have, though John did not believe it! What do you say to a rope-ladder?"

CHAPTER V.

THE BOY WHO MOUNTED IT.

It is just possible that there comes a time of life when the heart does not beat responsively at the bare suggestion of a rope-ladder. Then a desert island will have lost its charm, and wild beasts be no longer a source of terror or interest. Betty and John had, fortunately for them, not yet reached this miserable epoch. At their sister's last words they shouted and danced about on the uneven sticks until they were in imminent danger of falling out of the Eagle's Nest much faster than they climbed in.

"I thought you would consider it a good idea," said Madge modestly.