Randy and Her Friends by Amy Brooks

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RANDY AND HER FRIENDS

by

AMY BROOKS

Author Of _Randy's Summer_, _Randy's Winter_,
_A Jolly Cat Tale_, _Dorothy Dainty_

With Illustrations by the Author

Boston
Lee and Shepard

1902

Norwood press
J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith
Norwood, Mass. U.S.A.

Popular Stories

BY AMY BROOKS.

Each Beautifully Illustrated by the Author.

THE RANDY BOOKS.

THREE VOLUMES READY. 12MO. CLOTH. STRIKING
COVER DESIGN BY THE AUTHOR.

RANDY'S SUMMER. Price $1.00
RANDY'S WINTER. Price 1.00
RANDY AND HER FRIENDS. Price 80 cents, net

For Younger Readers.

A JOLLY CAT TALE. Large 12mo. Cloth.
Profusely Illustrated. Price $1.00

DOROTHY DAINTY. Large 12mo. Cloth.
Cover Design by the Author. Set in large
English type. Price 80 cents, net

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
Through the Fields

CHAPTER II
A Cheerful Giver

CHAPTER III
Gossip

CHAPTER IV
The District School

CHAPTER V
Randy's Journey

CHAPTER VI
New Friends

CHAPTER VII
The Little Travelers

CHAPTER VIII
Just a Rose

CHAPTER IX
A Scotch Linnet

CHAPTER X
The Party

CHAPTER XI
Timotheus and His Neighbors

CHAPTER XII
Home

ILLUSTRATIONS

Randy and Snowfoot (Frontispiece)

"I'll tell you just one thing more," said Randy

As she looked from the window and saw the flying landscape

As the smoke flew backward the flaming torch revealed the
sleeping children

Randy urges Polly to sing

Randy and Prue sat under the shadow of the blossoming branches

CHAPTER I

THROUGH THE FIELDS

The sunniest place upon the hillside was the little pasture in which the
old mare was grazing, moving slowly about and nipping at the short grass
as if that which lay directly under her nose could not be nearly as choice
as that which she could obtain by constant perambulation.

A blithe voice awoke the echoes with a fragment of an old song. The mare
looked up and gave a welcoming whinny as Randy Weston, Squire Weston's
daughter, crossed the pasture, her pink sunbonnet hanging from her arm by
its strings.

"Glad to see me, Snowfoot?" asked Randy as she laid a caressing hand upon
the mare's neck and looked into the soft eyes which seemed to express a
world of love for the girl who never allowed a friendly whinny to pass
unnoticed.

"My! but this August sun is hot," said Randy, vigorously wielding her
sunbonnet for a fan.

"And before we can turn 'round it will be September, and then there'll be
lessons to learn, yes, and plenty of work to be done if I mean to keep the
promise I made myself when I won the prize in June.

"A five dollar gold piece for being the best scholar, Snowfoot, and to
think that I haven't yet decided what to do with it!

"I've spent it, in my mind a dozen times already, and to-day I'm no nearer
to knowing _just_ what I'd rather do with it than on the day it was given
me. Did you ever know anything so silly?"

The horse sneezed violently, as if in derision, and Randy laughed gaily at
having her plainly expressed opinion of herself so forcibly confirmed.

Leaving Snowfoot to crop the grass and clover, Randy crossed the field
and followed a well trodden foot-path which led to a little grove and
there in the cool shade she paused to look off across the valley, and
again her thoughts reverted to the shining gold piece. Once more she
wondered what it could buy which would give lasting satisfaction.

"If I were in the city," she mused, "I should probably see something which
I'd like to have in the first store I came to, and I could buy it at
once."

A moment later she laughed softly as it occurred to her that in the large
city stores of which she had heard it would be more than probable that a
dozen pretty things would attract her, and her bewilderment would thus be
far greater than it had been at home with only a choice of imaginary
objects.

"If old Sandy McLeod who gave the prize could know what a time I've had
deciding what to do with it, I believe he would laugh at me and say in
that deep voice of his,

"'Hoot, lass! Since the gold piece troubles ye, I wonder if ye're glad ye
won it?'"

Randy in her pink calico gown, her sunbonnet still hanging from her arm,
her cheeks flushed by the hot summer breeze, and the short ringlets
curling about her forehead, made a lovely picture as she stood at the
opening of the little grove and looked off across the valley to the
distant hills.

She was thinking of the school session which would open so soon, when with
her classmates she would be eagerly working to gain knowledge; of her
longing for more than the "deestrict" school could give, of her father's
promise that she should have all the education she wished for, and the
light of enthusiasm shone in her merry gray eyes.

"I shall work with all my heart this season," thought Randy, "and if I
could do two years' work in one, I should indeed be pleased. I believe
I'll ask the teacher to plan extra work for me, and if she will, I'll--"
but just at this point she heard a clear voice calling,

"Randy! Randy!"

Turning she saw Belinda Babson running along the little foot path, her
long yellow braids shining in the sun, and her round blue eyes showing her
pleasure at sight of her friend.

"Why Belinda! Where did you come from?" cried Randy, "I'd no idea that
anyone was near me."

"I've been sitting on the top rail at the further side of the pasture, and
just watching you, Randy Weston," said Belinda, laughing.

"I was on the way up to your house when I met your little sister Prue, and
she said that you were out here, so I turned this way, and just as I
reached the bars I spied you a looking off at nothing and a thinking for
dear life."

"I _was_ thinking," admitted Randy, "and I was just wondering if I could
do two years of school work in one, when you called me."

"Well what an idea!" gasped Belinda, "you don't catch me doing more than
one year's work if I can help it, and I wouldn't do _that_ if pa didn't
set such a store by education.

"Why, Randy," she resumed a moment later, "what makes you in such a drive
'bout your lessons, anyway?"

"I'm sixteen this summer," Randy replied, "and I've no idea of waiting
forever to fit myself for something better than a district school."

Belinda looked aghast, and her round face seemed longer than one could
have believed possible.

"Randy Weston!" she ejaculated, "if you're planning to work like that the
whole duration time you won't have a single minute for fun, and how we'll
miss you!"

"Oh, don't imagine that I shall lose all the winter's pleasures, Belinda,"
Randy answered slipping her arm about her friend's waist. "I can study in
the long evenings and I think that I shall be able to join you all in the
'good times' which you plan and yet be able to do the extra work at
school."

"Well, I wish you joy," said Belinda, "but I, for one, get all the school
work I want in a year as it is, and as to extra work, I guess I'll get it
fast enough this winter, although it won't be lessons I'll be attending to
in my spare time.

"Ma got a letter last night when she rode over to the Centre, and Aunt
Drusilla writes that she's coming to make us a three months' visit, and
she's going to bring little Hi with her. And yesterday morning pa said
that Grandma Babson was a coming to make her home with us, so you might
guess, Randy, that Jemima and I'll have to step lively and help ma a bit."

"You will indeed have to help," Randy answered, "but won't it be fun to
see little Hi again?

"Do you remember, Belinda, when he was here last summer, he tried to
harness the hens and wondered why they didn't like it?"

"I had forgotten that," said Belinda, "but Jemima reminded me this morning
of the day that pa lost his spectacles. Every one in the house hunted for
those glasses, and at last Jemima ran out into the door-yard, and there
was little Hi with the spectacles on his nose, a peering into the rain
water barrel and holding onto those specs to keep them from tumbling off
into the water. He said that pa said there were critters in any water, and
as he couldn't see 'em he ran off with the glasses to see if they would
help him. He tied our old Tom to the mouse trap because he said that he
wanted the cat to be on hand when the mice ran in. He carried a squash pie
out to the brindle cow because he thought she must be tired of eating
nothing but grass, and if he and Grandma Babson have got to spend three
months under the same roof, I b'lieve he'll drive her crazy, for she
hates boys and don't mind saying so, and he can think of more mischief in
one day than any other child could in a week."

Both girls laughed as they thought of little Hi's pranks and Randy said,
with a bright twinkle in her eyes,

"At least, you and Jemima will be amused this winter."

"I guess we shall be in more ways than one," assented Belinda, "for I'm
pretty sure that Grandma Babson and that small boy will be enemies from
the start."

Belinda's habitually jolly face wore such a comical look of anxiety that
Randy refrained from laughing, and to change the subject asked for a
schoolmate whom she had not recently seen. "Where is Molly Wilson?" she
questioned.

"Oh, Molly is so hard at work now it's only once in a while that I see
her. Her baby sister is ill, and Molly has no time for anything but
helping around home. Her mother says that she intends to have her go back
to school if she can spare her, but whatever do you suppose Molly meant?

"She said to me, 'Belinda, even if mother can spare me, I may not go to
school. You can't think how anxious I am to be at work at my lessons
again, but I'm afraid I shan't look fit and father's had such a hard
summer, the farm hasn't paid for working it, he says, that I couldn't ask
him for anything for myself if I never had it.'

"And oh, I never thought, Randy, I promised Molly I would not tell what
she said. I didn't mean to. Whatever made me forget?"

"Never mind," said Randy, an odd little smile showing the dimples at the
corners of her mouth.

"I will not tell a single girl you may be very sure, but you and I who
know it will be extra kind to Molly."

"Indeed we will," assented Belinda. "I'll go over this afternoon and see
if I can help her. The baby is a sweet little thing and she likes me, so
perhaps I shall be some help. Oh, there's Jemima calling at the bars, I
guess ma wants me. My! I wonder if some of our company has arrived?

"Remember not to tell what I told you," cried Belinda to Randy, who stood
looking after her friend, as she ran across the pasture to join Jemima.

They turned to wave their hands to Randy, who responded, then, as they
disappeared behind a clump of trees, she turned her eyes toward the sunny
valley and with her hands loosely clasped seemed to be watching the
shimmering sunlight on the winding river below.

She had long been standing thus when a gentle whinny made her turn to
offer the caress for which old Snowfoot was hinting.

The horse laid a shaggy head against Randy's shoulder and edged nearer as
the girl patted her nose, then walking over to a large rock she stood
close beside it and began to neigh, at the same time looking fixedly at
Randy.

"Oh you cunning old thing," said Randy with a laugh.

"You're inviting me to ride, just as you always do, by walking up to that
big flat rock so that I can mount. Well you old dear," she continued as
she stepped upon the rock and prepared to seat herself upon Snowfoot's
back,

"I've found out what to do with that precious gold piece, and I'm going to
do it."

Then without saddle or bridle, but with a firm grasp upon the shaggy mane
she chirped to her steed and the horse pricking up her ears at the sound,
bounded forward, and proud of her charge carried her across the pasture to
the bars where little Prue stood waiting to meet her.

It was evident that the little sister had wonderful news to tell, for her
brown eyes were very wide open and she could hardly wait for Randy to slip
down from Snowfoot's back before beginning to tell what so excited her.

"Oh, what do you think!" she began when with her hand in Randy's they
trudged along towards home.

"My Tabby's caught a mouse, and father's just come back from the Centre
and he's brought the cloth for a new dress for you'n me, 'n I picked holes
in the bundles, an' one's blue an' one's red an' which do you s'pose is
mine? And Aunt Prudence is comin' to see us next week, an' there's goin'
to be a new spout to our rain water barrel, an' I guess that's all."

"Well if all that happened while I've been out in the pasture," said
Randy, laughing, "I guess I'll have to stay in for a while and see what
happens next."

CHAPTER II

A CHEERFUL GIVER

It was a warm August evening when a farm hand passing the Weston house
paused a moment to look admiringly at the picture which the wide open door
presented.

A rude frame of home manufacture, covered with netting, kept inquisitive
moths from entering, at the same time allowing a flood of light to make
its way out into the door-yard, where it lay upon the grass and added
glory to the marigolds which grew beside the path.

"Happiest family I know on," muttered the man, drawing a rough hand across
his eyes. "Makes me think of the time when I was a little feller ter hum,
and had two sisters jest 'baout the size of Square Weston's girls."

Then, with a sigh, the man went on up the road, but the memory of the
family group in the brightly lighted room remained in his mind for many a
day.

At one side of the table with its bright cloth smoothly spread, sat Mr.
Weston perusing the county paper, at times reading aloud a bit of
especially interesting news to his wife who was busily at work upon an
apron for little Prue. In the centre of the table stood a large lamp, a
monument to the enterprise of Silas Barnes, the village storekeeper.

"You folks don't want ter go pokin' raound with taller candles when ye kin
git er lamp that gives light like all fireation, do ye?" he had said.

And those farmers who could afford the luxury invested in a lamp at once.
Others, whose purses were too lean for such expenditure, affected to
prefer candles, declaring the lamplight to be too glaring for their taste.

Just where the light shone through the outline of her rippling hair sat
Randy, reading aloud to Prue, who stood beside her at the table,
insisting upon seeing each picture as Randy turned the page.

As she finished reading the story, Randy turned, and slipping her arm
about Prue drew her closer, while the little sister, giving a contented
little sigh exclaimed,

"That's the best story of all, Randy, read it again."

"Why, Prue, you've just heard it twice," said Randy, "you don't want to
hear it again to-night!"

"Oh, yes, I do!" cried Prue. "I'd like to hear it all over again from the
beginning, 'Once upon a time.' 'F I hear it this once more it'll seem
'bout true."

"I should think 'twould seem threadbare," said her father, with ill
suppressed amusement.

"No, no!" cried Prue, "'tain't freadbare, it's fine, the finest in the
book. Do read it, Randy, and then I'll be willing to go to bed."

So Randy began once more the story which had so charmed the little sister,
and very patiently she read it, while Prue, who was really sleepy, made
heroic efforts to keep her eyes open.

Often her lashes would lie for an instant upon her cheek, when immediately
she would open her eyes very wide, and look furtively about to see if her
drowsiness were detected.

"And they lived happily ever after," read Randy.

"And they lived--happily--ever--after," drawled Prue, as if in proof that
she were indeed awake.

"Why Prue," cried Randy, "you're half asleep."

"I'm not," Prue answered, "I heard what you read. You said 'and they lived
happy ever after.' Now I'm wide awake, else how did I hear?"

After Prue was safely tucked in bed, Randy returned to the cheerful room
below and unfolded her plan for spending her prize money.

Mrs. Weston put aside her sewing to listen, and Mr. Weston laying his
paper across his knees, watched Randy keenly as she said,

"You see I've felt that I should like to do something with this prize
which it would always give me pleasure to remember, and I know that if you
both think best to let me do this, I shall always look back to it with
happy thoughts."

There was a pause when Randy had finished speaking, then Mrs. Weston,
without a word, placed her hand upon Randy's, as it lay upon the table and
the Squire, taking off his glasses and affecting to see a bit of moisture
upon them, took out his handkerchief and slowly wiping the lenses he said,

"As far as our _letting_ ye, Randy, the money's yer own ter do as ye
please with, but fer my own opinion, ye well know I've always said 'twas'
better ter give than receive.' This time ye have both. Ye've known the joy
of receiving the prize, and now ye plan ter use it ter make another happy.
I'm proud of yer choice, and I guess yer mother thinks as I do. I'm well
able now ter give ye all ye need, and if winning and giving yer prize
makes ye twice glad, why what more could we ask?"

"I'm so glad you like my plan," said Randy, with sparkling eyes. "Molly is
such a nice girl, and the way I'm going to send the gift, she will never
guess where it came from, I waited until Prue was asleep to tell you about
it.

"She never could keep the secret, and a secret it _must_ be, for Molly is
proud and shy and must only think that _some one_ has sent her a nice
gift."

"That's right, Randy," said Mrs. Weston, "but do ye think it can be
managed so that Molly won't dream where it came from?"

"Oh, yes," Randy answered, "I shall get Jotham to help me, and he will be
sure to do my errand just as I direct."

"Wall, I guess that's sure enough," said Mr. Weston, with a chuckle, which
Randy heard on her way up the stairs to her little bed-room.

The bright color flushed her cheeks as she thought of Jotham Potts who,
since they were both little children, had been her ardent admirer,
faithful and eager to do her slightest bidding. She admired his frank,
truthful character, appreciated his kindness and valued his friendship,
but she made no one friend a favorite, striving rather to be friendly and
cordial with all.

In her dreams she sent her gift to Molly many times, and as many times
wondered if it pleased her, and when she awoke in the morning she could
hardly believe that it had not yet been purchased.

"I'm glad it was just a dream," thought Randy, as she stood before the
tiny glass drawing the comb through the curling masses of her light brown
hair, "because I've yet the pleasure of choosing the gift and of buying
and sending it to her.

"I believe I'll go down to Barnes' store to-day, for now I've made up my
mind what to do, I can hardly wait to do it."

It seemed as if everything favored Randy's scheme. The first person whom
she saw as she ran out to the well and commenced to lower the bucket was
Jotham, whistling as he strode along, deftly cutting the tops from the
roadside weeds with a switch.

"Hi, Randy! Let me help you," he said, vaulting lightly over the wall and
hastening toward her as she stood smiling in the sunlight.

"You can help in another way to-day, if you will," said Randy. "Come and
sit upon the wall while I tell you about it."

"Indeed I will," was the hearty rejoinder. "I've often told you, Randy,
that I'd do anything for you."

"Well, this is for me, and for some one else too," said Randy, looking
earnestly up into his kind, dark eyes.

"And Jotham," she continued eagerly, "you must not mind if I don't tell
you _all_ about it, 'tis truly a good reason why I can't."

"I'll do whatever you wish, Randy," was the reply, "and I won't ask a
question."

"Oh, here's Prue coming," said Randy, "and she mustn't hear about it. You
meet me at Barnes' store about four o'clock this afternoon and I'll tell
you then what I wish you to do."

"All right," said Jotham, "I'll be there on time, you may be sure of
that."

"O, Randy," cried little Prue, "what you tellin' Jotham? Tell me too."

"See here, Prue," said Jotham with as serious an expression as he could
assume, "I was just telling Randy that I should be at Barnes' store at
four o'clock."

"Oh, was that all?" said Prue, "I thought 'twas something great," and her
look of disgust at finding the conversation to be upon so ordinary a topic
made both Randy and Jotham laugh heartily.

"Well I don't see why you laugh," said Prue, "'twon't be funny to be going
down to the store this hot afternoon. I'd rather stay at home with my
Tabby cat, and fan her to keep her cool."

Immediately after dinner, little Johnny Buffum appeared in the door-yard
and announced that he had come to play with Prue. He wore a blue-checked
pinafore, below which could be seen his short snuff-colored trousers and
little bare feet. Upon his head jauntily sat a large straw hat with a torn
brim through which the sunlight sifted, where it lay, a stripe of gold
upon his little freckled nose.

"I'm glad you've come, Johnny," said Prue. "Let's play school."

"All right," agreed Johnny, "I'll be the teacher."

"And I'll play I'm Randy, and Tabby can be me,--you 'member to call her
Prue when you speak to her,--and Johnny, this rag doll will be you," said
Prue.

"That old doll's a girl," objected Johnny. "I won't let no girl doll be
me."

But Prue argued that it would be enough better to be represented by the
despised rag doll, than not to be in the school at all, so half convinced,
the game began and the two children were so occupied when Randy started
for her walk to the Centre, that her little sister quite forgot to coax to
be allowed to "go too."

As she trudged along the sunny, dusty road, Randy hummed a merry little
tune, her footsteps keeping time to its rhythm and her heart beating
faster as she thought of her delightful errand.

Arrived at the store she asked Mr. Barnes to show her the piece of cloth
from which her father had bought on the night that he had driven to the
Centre.

"Joel!" called Silas Barnes, "show Randy Weston that second piece of cloth
from the top, will ye? I've got ter finish opening this barrel o' sugar."

Joel placed the cloth upon the counter, saying,

"Is that the piece ye mean?"

"Yes, that is it," said Randy.

"Didn't yer pa git 'nough?" questioned Joel.

"Oh yes," said Randy, "but I want this for something else. I'll take eight
yards."

"Why that's 'nough for a whole gaown," said Joel, but a shade of annoyance
passed over Randy's sweet face and as she showed no disposition to
explain, the clerk cut off the number of yards with the injured air of one
whose kindly interest had been unappreciated.

When the cloth had been made into a neat parcel, Joel looked up and
extended his hand for payment, when to his utter astonishment, Randy
informed him that she had yet another errand.

"I'll look at some shoes now," she said with quite an air, for this was
her first shopping trip and a very happy one.

"Fer yourself, Randy?" asked Joel.

"I wish them to be _my size_, so I'll try them on," was the answer.

"Well ef they're ter be your size, they're to be yourn, ain't they?"
queried Joel, determined if possible to know all about this wild
extravagance.

Randy had changed her gold piece for a bill before she left home, well
knowing that the bill would attract less attention.

Assuming not to have heard his question, Randy took her parcels, and gave
Joel her bill. Joel took the money, but he could not resist the temptation
to ask one more question.

"Mebbe ye didn't know that yer pa bought a pair er shoes jest that size
t'other night, did ye?"

No one person was ever known to have bought two pairs of shoes and two
dresses at Barnes' store within a week, and the clerk was wild with
curiosity, but just as he was about to repeat his question, Jotham entered
the store, and Joel turned to see what his errand might be.

"Nothing to-day," said Jotham, "I saw Randy in here, and I thought I'd
offer to take her bundles."

Together they left the store, and as they turned into the quiet, shady
road Randy said,

"I think I never was more glad to see you, Jotham, than when I turned and
saw you in the doorway of the store."

"Then I'm doubly glad I came," said Jotham.

"Well, Joel Simpkins thought 'twas the funniest thing that I should be
buying something when father was not with me, and he asked just every
question that he could think of except one. He didn't ask me where I got
my money, and I do believe he would have asked me that if you hadn't come
in just when you did."

"O Randy, it's a funny sight to see you provoked," said Jotham with a
hearty laugh. "I know that he is an inquisitive fellow.

"You know I've been studying this summer with the young professor who has
been boarding at our house, and father has arranged it so that when he
returns to teach at the university I shall go back with him, not to the
college of course, but as his private pupil. I shall work very hard at my
studies and hope another year to enter college.

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