every day was full, but rainy days were fullest of all. those were the times when the children made fiddles of cornstalks, popguns of elder, and candles of bayberry wax, using elder stems for moulds; the times when they played in the big unfinished garret where two or three barrels of beautifully lumpy maple sugar always stood. boy cousin’s mother had a loom and kept up the old custom of weaving one piece every year. the threads of the warp were all drawn into the harness and the piece was well begun when ella came, and she thought it would be the easiest thing in the world to give the shuttle the skillful little push that sent it sliding across the threads. “please mayn’t i try it only once?” she begged. “i’m almost sure i could make it go through just as you do”; and finally boy cousin’s good-natured mother let her try it. the shuttle must have been bewitched, for although ella was certain that she started it in exactly the same way that it had been trained to go, it was willing to go anywhere and everywhere rather than to the one proper place. it fell down on the floor and slid away back under the loom.
but if ella could not weave, she could fill quills. these quills were short pieces of the hollow elder[pg 72] stem with the pith pushed out. the thread of the woof was wound on them and they were slipped into the shuttle. to wind these, the “quilling wheel” was used. it was much like a spinning wheel, only smaller. the children took turns in using it, making believe that they were waging war with the fairy king of the elder bushes, and that the spools were prisoners whom they had taken and were binding with chains.
rainy days were good times to try whatever new ways they had learned of “taking it off” in cat’s-cradle, good times to braid bulrushes. they learned how to make three-strand and seven-strand and how to sew the braid together and make quite respectable hats.
painting was always in order. they manufactured a very good red paint from the juice of the elderberry; and when they wanted purple, they added a little soft soap. for other colors there was ella’s paint-box to depend upon; for long before this she had had a new box to take the place of the one buried among the roses.
they made various games, but this was not without its difficulties. cardboard was at least ten miles away; birch bark would curl up; but no lack of materials was ever allowed to interfere with their plans, there was always something else that would answer the purpose. in this case they pasted several thicknesses of newspaper together, deceived the world by adding a facing of light brown wrapping paper when[pg 73] the white gave out; put the cards under flatirons to make as sure as possible that they would dry without wrinkles; and when they were dry, painted them with whatever the games required of words or pictures. it must be admitted that when these cards were shuffled, they were a little like the croquet balls in that no one ever knew which way they would go, and boy cousin’s father suggested that they be dealt with a snowshovel; but the children looked upon them as a great success.
if there was ever a minute when they had nothing else to do, the yellow-covered farmer’s almanac was ready to keep them busy. here were the riddles and conundrums and charades and enigmas of the preceding year, and a new collection for them to puzzle over, whose answers would not be revealed until the following year. there were bits of poetry and wise sayings of famous men. here was occupation enough for many rainy days. ella felt a little envy of boy cousin because he had the almanac the first of january and she did not see it until july or august. queerly enough, it was so associated in her mind with rainy days in the new hampshire garret that she never thought of looking for a copy anywhere else.
sometimes the rain fell heavily all day, and even more heavily up in the mountains at the source of the river. this meant that the water would roll down faster and faster. the big meadow was only a little above the river’s level, and before the afternoon was[pg 74] half gone, it would be a wide-spreading sea. higher and higher the water rose under the bridge. not a rock was to be seen. the whole meadow and the bed of the river was full of a torrent of black water, foaming and bubbling.
after one of these rainy days, the children went out to see what harm had been done, and they found that beauty bay was gone, that even the water had been washed away, and the bay had become a part of the river. the fish that had dwelt in such comfort in the bay would now have to make their own living as best they could, for they had been swept into the river, into the pond, perhaps all the way to the briny ocean, and what would a fresh-water fish do then, poor thing?
in the midst of all the happy occupations of weekdays came sunday with a dull thud. everything stopped, everything was different. no more tramping shoes and runabout dresses; people must wear their best clothes to meeting. the little white meetinghouse was several miles away, and the two extra passengers made extra weight; they must drive slowly. no one could count upon the exact minute of arrival, and sometimes there were what seemed to ella whole hours of waiting before they went into the church.
the sunday after the flood they started earlier than usual, for the roads might have been washed by the rain. they proved to be in good condition, and the time of waiting was longer than ever. this was[pg 75] very pleasant for the older folk. they met their friends and had nice little chats with them; but it happened that most of the children lived quite a long distance from ella’s grandfather’s, and she did not know them. there was an attractive little road that rambled away from one side of the church, and she wished that she might ramble with it. over the hill there would surely be a brook. cardinal flowers grew beside brooks. it was not their season, but there might be just one. any way, there would certainly be some kind of wild flowers. but the minister was coming and they must go into church.
after the service came the sunday school, and then people went out into the little graveyard and ate the lunch that they had brought with them. when ella first saw this, she was a little surprised to see people treat a graveyard in so familiar and friendly a fashion. then she remembered a strange story that she had once read about a little girl who had been carried to fairyland. she was allowed to see her old friends once every year, provided not one of them forgot to come to the place of meeting.
ella wondered if the people who lay in this graveyard were pleased to have them come and eat lunch there. if they were, she was very glad to help make them happy. the afternoon sermon did not seem nearly so long as that of the morning, and she went home thinking that if the people under the stones really liked to see her, she should like to come again.[pg 76] she even hoped it would not be so rainy the next sunday that she would have to disappoint them.
sunday was divided into three parts. it was very much sunday until they were at home from meeting. then it was allowable to put on a dress that was not a really best one, but was a little better than one for everyday. dinner was at about four o’clock. after this came the third part of the day. it was not proper to play games, but one might pop corn. one might go to walk, not on a real tramp through the woods, but quietly up or down the road.
ella was never quite sure that she understood all the sunday distinctions. for instance, one might pick berries in the garden, but it would never have done to take a pail and go to pick them in the fields. if you were walking on the road and came to a bush full of them, you might fold up a big leaf or make a birch-bark basket—a very simple one, of course—and fill it to carry home. even then, however, it was better to explain that the sky looked like rain and the berries would have been spoiled and so wasted before morning if left on the bush.
after dinner on the sunday after the flood, ella and boy cousin went sedately up the road for a little walk. they came to a tree of early apples, which proved to be as sour as apples could possibly be.
“that tree ought to be grafted,” said boy cousin.
“how do you graft?” ella asked.
“you stick into the sour tree some twigs from a[pg 77] good tree and put wax around them to keep them dry,” replied boy cousin.
“let’s stick one into this tree.”
“why isn’t that work just as much as ploughing would be?” boy cousin queried.
“trees grow sunday just as much as on other days, and if we graft them so they can raise good apples instead of poor, we are not working; we are only helping them to do their own work well. we haven’t any wax, but why can’t we get some spruce gum? that would keep the water out.”
“there isn’t a good apple tree anywhere near.”
“put in a raspberry twig then,” suggested ella. “a raspberry as big as an apple would be good, i know.”
so they began, and before they were done, not only raspberry, but also maple, spruce, woodbine, wild cherry, and even hardhack had been grafted into that long-suffering tree.
monday morning boy cousin, his father, and ella were going part way up one of the mountains to visit a pasture. in the spring, as soon as the grass was green, it was the custom to drive cattle and young colts up to a mountain pasture, where they could feed till autumn. every few weeks the owner paid a visit to the pasture to make sure that his “creatures” were safe and to give them salt.
they started when the mists were rolling away from the valleys, and the sun was just peering over[pg 78] ossipee. it was a beautiful ride through the cool fresh woods, showing here and there a spray of scarlet leaves. occasionally they had a glimpse of a rabbit or a woodchuck, and once a deer watched them for a moment, then bounded gracefully across the road and disappeared in the woods.
at the foot of the mountain the little company started up the narrow footpath, at first smooth, then stony, as they came to places where the rain had washed the soil. most of the way was through the woods, but here and there were openings where they could get views of the mountains around them. from one of these openings they could see the old homestead half hidden by its great maples.
at last they came to a large pasture surrounded by woods. boy cousin’s father laid some salt on a big flat rock, and then called, “hoo! hoo! hoo!” for a minute all was still, then a crash of broken limbs was heard far off in the woods. then two or three cattle plunged headlong out of the forest. then came others, and then four little colts. they knew that the visit meant salt, and every one started for the flat rock. but every one stopped short, and stood as still as a statue and gazed at ella. it was almost embarrassing, for when she walked to one side, they all walked after her and gazed more curiously than ever. they had seen men before, but how a little girl could come into their pasture, and what a little girl might be, was a wonder. the shy little colts were so devoured with[pg 79] curiosity that they stood still and stared when ella ventured to slip up and pat their silky heads. then they went to the salt; and after they had eaten what they wanted, they wandered back, one by one, into the forest, and boy cousin’s father and the children set out for home.
“good-bye,” called boy cousin, as ella climbed out over the high wheel. “we’ll go and see how our grafts are the first thing in the morning.”
but when ella opened the door, there stood the mother before the trunk, folding up their clothes and laying them in. the mail had brought a letter that made it necessary for them to return to the city in the morning. there was no time to visit the tree; and this is why no one knows what happens when a raspberry twig is grafted into a sour apple tree on sunday afternoon.
