Randy and Her Friends by Amy Brooks

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"Well, father was speaking to Mr. Barnes of my aspirations, and his plans
for me, when Joel stepped over to where they stood talking, and said he,

"'Ain't that goin' ter be pooty expensive, Mr. Potts, an' likely ter put
kind er high notions inter Jotham's head?'

"Father turned and looked at him, then he said,

"'I'm not likely to incur any bills which I am unable to meet, and as to
Jotham's head, I truly believe it is level.'"

They both laughed to think of Joel's discomfiture, and under the shade of
overhanging branches they sat down upon a large rock at the side of the
road and Randy, turning toward Jotham said,

"There, now I'll tell you what I could not tell this morning, because dear
little Prue cannot keep a secret, and you can, and will."

[Illustration: "I'll tell you just one thing more," said Randy.]

"I will if you wish it, Randy," said Jotham.

"Well then, these parcels are not for me, they are for someone else, and I
do not wish her to know where they came from, Jotham, are you willing to
go over to the Wilson farm to-night?" asked Randy.

"I'd go to Joppa if you asked it," answered the boy with a laugh.

"Then go to Molly's house after dark, and leave these bundles on the
doorstep. Knock loudly, and then run away just far enough so that you will
be able to see them taken in, and don't tell anyone about it. It's just a
nice little surprise and you and I will keep our secret."

"It's a pleasure that you are planning, of that I am sure," said Jotham.

"I'll tell you just one thing more," said Randy, "Molly Wilson is a nice
girl and she will be sixteen to-morrow."

"Oh ho! A birthday gift! Well, I don't wonder you wish it to get there
to-night, but if I leave it and run, how will they know that the bundles
are for Molly?"

"Oh, I must put her name on the parcels now," said Randy.

Jotham produced a pencil and thinking that Molly might recognize her
writing, Randy printed in large letters this legend:

"For Mollie Wilson, from one who loves her."

After viewing her work with satisfaction, Randy said,

"There, now they are all ready, but Jotham," she added a moment later,
"what will you do with them between now and twilight?"

"I'll take the packages home, and as you wish no one to know about them,
I'll hide them in a safe place in our woodshed. When I start for Molly's
house I have to go in the same direction that I would if I were intending
to stop at Reuben Jenks' door, so I'll leave the presents at the Wilson's,
and stop at Reuben's on the way home; then if I'm known to have been at
Reuben's no one will guess that I was running about delivering presents."

So at a bend of the road they parted, Jotham happy in the thought that he
had a part in one of Randy's plans, and at the same time doing her
bidding, and Randy wondering if Molly's delight when she looked at her
gifts would be as great as that which she had herself experienced in
sending them.

CHAPTER III

GOSSIP

The sun shone down upon the dusty little "square," and the foliage of the
big willow tree near Barnes' store looked as if frosted, such a thick
coating of dust lay upon the leaves.

At the trough beneath the tree an old gray horse stood alternately taking
a long draught of the clear water, and looking off across the square, as
if lost in meditation.

A dragon-fly with steely wings lit upon the trough and, skilled little
acrobat, balanced upon the extreme edge as if thus to take in the full
beauty of old Dobbin's reflection.

Exhaling a long breath as he lifted his shaggy head, the old horse sent a
shower of bright drops upon the dragon-fly who, considering the act to be
a great breach of etiquette, took zigzag flight across the sunny square,
and up the winding road toward the mill.

It looked as if Dobbin might drink the trough dry if he chose, for an
animated conversation was in progress at Barnes' store, and his master was
one of the leaders in every discussion, whether the topic chanced to be
political, or simply a tale of village gossip.

A chubby urchin made little hills of dust, using a well worn slipper for a
trowel, and Dobbin kicked and stamped impatiently, occasionally taking
another drink, and still the discussion went on.

"Naow I argy, that a leetle deestrict school wus good 'nough fer me, an'
look at me!

"Own my farm free an' clear, got a good lot er stock an' tools on the
place, an' I'm wuth two thousand dollars in cash!"

The speaker was old Josiah Boyden, one of the "_see_lectmen," and a member
of the school committee. His greatest pride lay in the fact that he was a
self-made man, and truly he looked as if constructed upon a home made
pattern.

The group of farmers, obedient to his command, turned and looked at the
speaker, while from behind the stove which, hot weather or cold, held the
place of honor in the centre of the store, a shrill voice ventured to
question the pompous owner of so great a property.

"Be ye goin' ter say, Josiah, that every feller what's edicated at a
deestrict school can git ter own sech a fort'n as yourn?"

"Huh! Wal, no, not exactly," was the admission, for while this good
committee-man was fighting a suggestion which had been made relative to
securing better quarters for the school which promised to be larger than
on any previous year, he did not wish to diminish his own glory by
inferring that any one, however bright, or ambitious, could possibly
arrive at his eminence.

"I think, friends," said Parson Spooner in his soft, pleasant voice, "that
our scholars should be given every comfort and advantage which our
village can possibly afford to grant."

"That's it, that's it," assented Josiah Boyden, "but the thing is, she
can't afford to offer nothin' extry beyond just what's set aside fer
schools."

Again the squeaky voice from behind the stove made itself heard. "That's
the time, Josiah, when the taown can't afford it that cap'talists, such as
you say you be, oughter step right inter the gap an' help aout."

"I've got a arrant daown ter the mill," remarked the offended
"_see_lectman," "an' I'm goin' right along ter 'tend to it, but I'll say
in leavin', thet I won't waste my breath a talkin' to a person with a mind
so narrer as ter s'pose fer a moment that private puss-strings hangs aout
fer every person who feels like it ter pull. I'm public sperited, every
one knows that, but I don't help support no institootion er larnin when I
got the hull er my edication at a deestrict school," and in intense
disgust he left the store followed by an irritating chuckle which,
although it came from behind the rusty old stove, reached the ears of
Boyden as he stamped down the rickety steps of the store and stalked
majestically across the square and up the road.

He was sure of a sympathetic listener at the mill, for it was a well worn
saying in the village that the miller "agreed with everyone."

The river which kept his mill running, wound its way through the next
village, where another grist mill was humming, and Martin Meers was far
too shrewd to permit himself to express a difference of opinion from that
held by a good customer, who in his wrath might take his grist to the
rival mill to be ground.

Pondering over the "narrer minds" of those with whom he had been
conversing, Josiah Boyden tramped along the dusty road, becoming more
incensed with every step, as he thought of the individual who had presumed
to suggest that he might contribute toward the school fund, and still the
gossip at the store progressed, unhindered by the departure of the
"_see_lectman."

"My Reuben," remarked Mr. Jenks, "made more progress in his studies last
season than he ever made before in two winters' work, and I feel that the
teacher deserves a deal of thanks fer stirring up such an interest. I
don't have the sort er feelin' that Boyden has. I stand ready and willin'
ter put my hand in my pocket ter help aout expenses, ef some others will
'gree ter chip in."

"But there's a 'scuse fer Boyden," chuckled Nate Burnham, the old fellow
behind the stove, as he relighted his pipe, and puffed a few times to
determine if it intended to burn. "There's a sort er 'scuse fer Boyden,"
he repeated, "fer his children have growd up, so he ain't got no use fer
schools, and fellers like him don't pay fer things they ain't a usin'."

"Wal, I think we ought ter have a village improvement sarsiety fer the
benefit of us as is out'n school," remarked Joel Simpkins, thrusting his
hands deep into his pockets and tossing his head to shake back a
refractory lock of hay-colored hair.

He was the "head clerk" at Barnes' store. To be sure he was, as a general
thing, the _only_ clerk, but Joel considered himself quite a personage,
and never referred to himself as other than head clerk.

"Kinder had an idee that ye couldn't be improved, Joel," remarked a young
farmer who had thus far taken no part in the conversation.

Joel looked sharply at the man, and vaguely wondered if possibly the
remark was sarcastic, but the face into which he peered was so genuinely
good natured that Joel was reassured, and he at once decided that only a
very fine compliment was intended.

"I think we could fix up this 'ere square," said Joel, "ter begin with.
Take that old horse trough. That could be fixed up 'n' painted, 'n' that
willer tree; 'twouldn't hurt it ter give it a good preunin'. Growin' as it
does daown in the ditch, or puddle beside this store, it flourishes, an'
lops its limbs nigh onto across the square; an' the rickety fence beside
it ought ter be straightened up 'fore some of the fellers that are
perpetually leanin' 'gainst it pitch with it backward inter the ditch."

"Wal, Joel, while yer 'baout it," remarked Silas Barnes, "why don't yer
suggest a brick block er two, an' pavin' stones in the square an' a few
other things such as I told ye I seen in Boston. 'Tain't wuth while ter
stop after ye git started ter make suggestions."

"Speakin' of the teacher," remarked Mr. Potts, "I'm one that speaks in
favor of Miss Gilman every time, and Jotham seconds everything I say."

"Lemme tell ye what my Timotheus is a doin' these days. I set him ter
hoeing fer me, and I tell ye ye'd like ter watch him a spell," said old
Mr. Simpkins, his face beaming with pride in his youngest son.

"Fust he'd work the hoe with them long arms er his'n 'til the weeds an'
dirt flew like Hail Columby, and ye'd think he'd got goin' an' couldn't
halt, when all to onct he'd stop as ef somethin'd bit him, an' he'd drop
the hoe and begin ter gesticerlate and spaout like a preacher.

"Pooty soon he'd make a grab fer the hoe, and agin the dirt would fly like
all fury. Next thing ye knew, daown'd go the hoe agin, and up would go his
arms, a sawin' the air like a windmill, an' there he'd be a spaoutin' an'
a elocutin' fit ter kill. Who but Timotheus would ever think of combinin'
hoein' an' elocutin'? I tell ye, he's the most possessed of 'rig'nal'ty of
any pusson I ever seen."

"I wonder someone don't think he's a reg'lar loony, a carryin' on like
that," muttered Joel, filled with jealousy and disgust.

Old Mr. Simpkins was deaf, and Joel's muttered remark passed unnoticed.

"He ain't one er them fellers that can't do but one thing to a time.
T'other day I axed him ter bring two pail er water inter the barn, and
away he went ter git 'em. Anybody'd think a pail er water in each hand
oughter held him daown, but no sir, that feller came across the door-yard,
both pails full, an' his head in the air, his maouth wide open, and the
elocutin' a goin' on continoous."

"Ef I thought fer a moment that edication would make any er my children
act like that, I vaow I'd keep 'em outer school fer one while," said a
farmer who had recently arrived in the village, and roars of laughter
followed this remark.

As he was deaf, old Mr. Simpkins failed to catch the meaning of the
hilarity, so he construed it as it pleased him to, and when the laughter
had subsided, said,

"I don't wonder ye laugh, ye didn't see him er doin' it, so ye don't know
haow he looked, but I tell ye 'twas a grand sight ter see a young feller
so eloquent that nothin' on airth could stop him."

"Must 'a been a 'stonishing sight," agreed Mr. Jenks, "but naow, friends,
we've talked fer quite a spell on one thing or another, an we ain't much
nigher ter settlin' the question of a bigger schoolroom than when we
started.

"Naow instead er hagglin' 'baout it, I b'lieve we'd better have a
committee meetin' called, and a reg'lar vote taken, an' I say right here
and naow, that I shall vote fer better quarters fer the school an' I'll
'gree, as I said, ter put my hand right in my pocket an' give the thing a
start.

"Nathan Lawton gave the use of his best room fer a schoolroom last year,
an' 'twas kind an' generous fer him ter do it, but the village has been
growin' just amazin', an' this year shows a bigger list of inhabitants,
an' it 'pears as if most of the new comers had a family er children, so
something's got ter be done 'baout that school buildin'."

"Good fer ye," squeaked old Nate Burnham, "an' I wish ye luck at the
meetin'."

The village gossip was not monopolized by the frequenters of Barnes'
store. Indeed it seemed as if the place had taken on new life and
ambition, and if at any corner or turn of the road one chose to listen, he
could often hear a few stray bits of conversation in regard to the
interests which lay nearest to the hearts of the various newsmongers.

Of all the tale-bearers, and there were many, none were as harmless, and
at the same time as busy as Mrs. Hodgkins.

Walking down a shady lane one might espy her endeavoring to hold a
friendly confab with some busy farmer's wife who, while hanging out her
washing, endeavored to hold a clothespin in her mouth, and at the same
time answer Mrs. Hodgkins' frequent questions, such as,

"Naow did ye ever hear anything ter beat that?

"Ain't ye amazed at the idee?"

Mrs. Hodgkins would on such occasions, lean against the rail fence and
bombard the busy woman alternately with bits of news, and pointed
questions until, the last piece of linen in place upon the line, the empty
basket would be a signal for adieus.

Then Sophrony Hodgkins would meander down the lane, and if fortune favored
her, would find at the next farm-house its mistress possibly at the well
or sunning her milk pans in a corner of the door-yard.

Immediately she would hail her with joy and proceed to repeat her own
stock of news with the addition of a few particulars gleaned from the
first friend.

"Sophrony Hodgkins' stories," remarked old Nate Burnham, "remind me of the
snowballs we used ter roll and roll 'til from a leetle ball we finally by
rollin' an' trav'lin' got one bigger'n all creation.

"She starts in with what _she's_ heard. Then she adds on what somebody
else has heard, and after that, what this one an' that one and t'other one
has heard, 'til the size of the yarn must astonish her."

"I'll say one thing 'bout her, though," remarked Silas Barnes, "with all
her talkin' an' tellin' she never tells anything that's detrimental to
somebody's character. She's full er tellin' ordinary news, but when it
comes ter news that would stir up strife, Sophrony's got nothin' ter say;
so let her talk, I say, ef she enjoys it; she 'muses herself an' don't
hurt no one else."

On the sunny morning when Barnes' store had been the scene of the gossip
and discussion in regard to the new quarters for the school, Sophrony
Hodgkins had made an early start on a "c'lection tour," as old Nate
Burnham would have called it. She had met Janie Clifton at the Pour
Corners, and had stopped for a chat with her, had waylaid Molly Wilson in
the middle of the road, in order to inquire for her mother and baby
sister, had stopped for a moment at Mrs. Jenks' door just to ask if she
had heard the wonderful news about Dot Marvin's old uncle Jehiel, had
paused to look over the wall at the new Jersey cow which old Mr. Simpkins
had recently purchased, and to casually inquire if Timotheus was intending
to again be a pupil at the deestrict school, bein's he'd growed so durin'
the summer'n seemed more like a man than a boy, and had asked little
Johnny Buffum what on airth his sister Hitty had her head tied up in hot
weather for, when beet juice dropped in her ear would cure her earache in
two minutes, and had been informed that,

"Hitty hadn't got no earache, 'twas a bee sting on her cheek;" all this
and much more had filled Mrs. Hodgkins' mind so completely that she was
amazed to find that eleven o'clock had arrived, and that she must turn
about and hasten home if she wished to have dinner ready when the kitchen
clock struck twelve.

"I'll git something on the table when Joel gits in from the field, though
land knows what it'll be with only an hour ter git it in," she muttered
between short, puffing breaths, for Mrs. Hodgkins was stout, and she had
already taken a long walk.

The dinner was indeed an odd one, made up from what were termed by Mrs.
Hodgkins "odds and ends," but Joel Hodgkins was a patient man, and his
appetite was one which never needed tempting, so he partook of the viands
which his wife offered him with an apparent relish, and was soon at work
again in the field.

Then Mrs. Hodgkins donned a fresh apron preparatory to going out,
remarking as she tied her sunbonnet strings with a twitch,

"I reely must go over to Almiry's, it's only a step er two, and what's the
use of havin' a niece in the neighborhood ef not ter tell news ter, an'
what's the use er hearin' news an' keepin' it ter yourself?

"I'll git home in time ter bake a batch er gingerbread fer tea," she
continued, "Joel's paowerful fond er gingerbread an' it'll sort er pay
him fer eatin' such a dinner with such endurin' patience."

Almira Meeks lay back in the big old fashioned rocker, too tired, she
declared, to care "whether school kept or not."

Meek in name and in nature, there was not a day that she did not overwork,
and when the forenoon's tasks were completed, she would lie back exhausted
in the big old chair, only to be reprimanded if her husband chanced to
come in, for "havin' so little energy." It was with delight that she
welcomed Aunt Sophrony, saying:

"Do tell me all the news. I'm nearly always too tired to go out and hear
any."

"Ye do look tuckered," remarked Mrs. Hodgkins, "but hearin' the things
I've got ter tell will interest ye, an' make ye feel reel perky. Ye
needn't feel ye've got ter talk, fer I kin talk 'nough fer two.

"When I started aout this morning, the fust pusson I see was Janie
Clifton, an' what on airth do ye think she's been up to?"

Almira shook her head, to show her utter inability to guess what Janie's
latest notion might be.

"Well, she got an idee that we was all behind the times up here, an'
needed a leetle fixin' up, an' she wondered ef she could slip inter the
chink an' fill the place she thought she see a gapin', an' take in a
leetle money at the same time.

"She's 'mazing sot when she gits her mind on a thing, an' she talked it
over ter hum and carried the day; and she's been daown ter Boston these
past few months a learnin' dressmakin', when we all thought she was a
visitin'.

"Naow she's set up fer herself, an' any of us that has an idee of lookin'
spreuced up, and has a leetle cash ter go with the notion, can buy the
goods fer a gaown at Barnes', an' go right up ter the room over his store
and be measured by Janie fer a fashionable fit.

"Ef some of our husband's doesn't git fashionable fits when they hear the
extravagance Janie's a teachin' we'll be lucky.

"I'll tell ye naow, Almiry, I'm goin' ter have a gaown cut by Janie come
fall, ef it takes all the egg money ter pay fer it!"

"Why Aunt Sophrony!" was all the astonished Almira could ejaculate. Such
splendid courage was quite beyond the meek little woman's comprehension.

"Miss Wilson's baby has cut another tooth, that makes five, an' she's a
doin' well too," continued Mrs. Hodgkins, "but that ain't a flea bite to
what I heerd next.

"Ye know the Marvin's old Uncle Jehiel, him that lived with them five year
an' then went off, nobody knows where, without sayin' a word to 'em? Well,
he's been heard from! A lawyer has writ ter Jack Marvin's father sayin'
there's a will, an' sech a will I'll be baound wuz never heerd of before!

"He's left five hundred dollars ter come ter Jack when he's twenty-one, ef
by that time he's given any sign of 'mountin' ter anything as a scholar, a
farmer, a preacher or a storekeeper.

"Did ye ever hear anything like the choice?

"An' then he says, the old rascal, that ef by that time he hasn't made
something of himself in one or t'other er them things, that the money can
be given ter his cousin Dot, whatever she's done or hasn't done, bein's
he's never expected anything of her, she bein' only a girl.

"That made me bile when I heerd it, fer the old critter ought ter think
pretty well er girls and women. They say, as er boy he lived with his aunt
who gave him a good edication; a cousin er his'n, a woman by the way, set
him up in business, an' this money he's made his grand will fer was left
him by his wife, so ye'd think he'd feel thankful and kind toward all
women, but ye can't caount on folks."

"I'd a thought he'd a left the money ter be divided between Jack an' Dot,
'twould a sounded pleasanter," said Almira.

"Ef ye ever saw old Jehiel Marvin ye'd never expect anything very pleasant
of him," responded Mrs. Hodgkins.

"But lemme tell ye the greatest!

"Timotheus Simpkins ain't goin' ter the deestrict school this year, fer
the reason that his father says he's learned all there is ter learn, an'
there ain't nothing left that the teacher can tell him, so he's goin' ter
stay aout and help on the farm an' spend all his spare time on
literatoor!

"That's what old Mr. Simpkins says, what on airth do ye s'pose he means?"

Aunt Sophrony waited for her niece to solve the mystery, but the problem
was too great for her to grasp, and as Mrs. Hodgkins rose to go, Almira
begged her to question Timotheus if she chanced to meet him, and find out
just what he intended to do with his spare time, and to learn if possible
in what way "literatoor" was to form a part of his daily life.

CHAPTER IV

THE DISTRICT SCHOOL

The meeting held for the purpose of deciding that the town could or could
not afford to furnish suitable accommodations for its pupils proved to be
a most exciting affair.

Josiah Boyden filled with indignation that the matter should have been
thought worthy of consideration after he had spoken so vehemently against
it at Barnes' store, sat pompous and important near the door, fully
determined to crush any suggestion which might be offered.

Mr. Potts and Mr. Jenks early in the evening inquired the amount which the
town had set aside for the school. Upon learning the sum, each at once
agreed to contribute a quarter of the balance needed if others would make
up the remaining half.

"I have two scholars for the school," said Mr. Weston, "and if Mr. Potts,
who intends to have a private tutor for his son, is willing to give a
quarter of the sum needed, I'm sure I'll do the same."

"Three cheers for three quarters!" squeaked old Nate Burnham, from a seat
in the corner, and in the midst of the din old Sandy McLeod arose and
thumped his cane upon the floor for order.

"I'll gie the remainin' quarter, an' add ten dollars to't that my Margaret
sent, sayin' in her gentle way, 'It may gie some added comfort to the
place wherever 'tis chosen.'"

Wild applause greeted this characteristic speech. Sandy's eyes twinkled as
he sat down and he remarked to his next neighbor, "That mon Boyden has a
scowl that wad sour meelk."

After much discussion, it was decided that a large, vacant farm-house,
centrally located, could be purchased and fitted for a schoolhouse at a
less expense than the building of a new structure would incur, and in
spite of Josiah Boyden's fuming and Nate Burnham's chuckling, in spite of
much murmuring on the part of a few frugal minded farmers, the moneyed
element carried the day, and under the twinkling stars the triumphant
members of that assemblage took their homeward way, filled with the joy of
victory.

The money pledged was as promptly paid, and work upon the building was
commenced at once, and when September arrived it stood ready to receive
the scholars, a better schoolhouse than the average country village could
boast.

One of the first to inspect it was Mrs. Sophrony Hodgkins. It would have
made her very unhappy to have had its good points described to her and
have been unable to say,

"Oh, yes, I know, I saw it fust."

Accordingly on the day that school was to open, she made an early start
and before any pupils thought of arriving she had inspected every part of
the building, decided that she approved of it in every particular, and
had sallied forth to describe it to all her friends.

As she sped along the road, a brisk, bustling figure, the little squirrels
raced along the wall, sure that she intended to capture them; but one less
timid than his mates, sat upon his little haunches on an old stump, and
chattered and scolded as she passed as if offended by the stir which she
was making.

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