Sally," said Ned; "Charley, let me give you some cold ham. Jack, help yourself to some fish. There are the shrimps, boys, between you. Maum Sally, pour out some coffee, please. Jack, you'll find the okra good; here, Charley, let me help you to rice."
Maum Sally, meanwhile, was pouring coffee and filling plates; when supper was well under way, she stood back a little way, placed her hands on her hips, her arms akimbo, and said with the utmost solemnity:
"Seems 's if somebody axed me somethin' or other 'bout de folks when I was too busy to ten' to 'em. Ef you'll ax me agin now, I'll be obleeged."
"Yes, upon reflection," said Ned, "I am inclined to think that I ventured to make some inquiry concerning my uncle and aunt. If I remember correctly, I asked where they are, and at what time they are likely to return."
"Whah is dey? Well, I don' rightly know, an' I can't say adzac'ly when dey'll be back agin. But I specs deys somewhah out on de sea, an' I s'pose dey'll be back about nex' November."
"What!" cried Ned, in surprise, suspending his attention to supper, and forgetting to maintain his pretence of dignified indifference. "What do you mean, Maum Sally?"
"Well, what I mean is dis heah. Yo' uncle an' aunt lef' here three days ago to go north. Dey said dey was a gwine to de centenimental expedition, an' to Newport an' somewhahs else – I reckon it was to some sort o' mountains – White Mountains, mebbe, an dey said dey'd be back agin in November, ef dey didn't make up dere minds to stay longer, or come back afore dat time. So now you knows as much about it as I does."
CHAPTER II
ON THE JOGGLING BOARDS
To say that Ned was surprised is to describe his feeling very mildly. Knowing his uncle's easy, indolent mode of life, his contentment with home, his lazy love of books and pipes and ease generally, Ned would as soon have expected to hear that the organ in the little church had gone off summering, as to learn that his uncle and aunt were travelling.
The other boys were in consternation.
"What on earth shall we do?" asked Jack Farnsworth.
"Better eat supper, fust an' fo'most," replied Maum Sally, whose theory of life consisted of a profound conviction that the important thing to be done was to eat an abundance of good food, well-cooked.
"That's so," said Ned. "We can't bring my uncle back by neglecting our supper, but we can let the coffee get cold, and that would be a pity. Let's eat now while the things are hot."
"Yes," replied Charley Black, "that's all right, but after that?"
"Why, after that we'll try the joggling boards."
"But, Ned," remonstrated Charley, "this won't do. Your uncle has gone away, and the house is shut up and so we can't stay here. Now, I move that you go back to Aiken with us."
"Not a bit of it," answered Ned. "I've visited at your house and at Jack's, and now you're my guests. Do you think I've 'forgot my manners,' as Maum Sally says?"
"But, Ned," said Jack, "you see the situation has changed since we started to go home with you. You can't go home, and now you can't stay here."
"Can't I though?" asked Ned; "and why not? I know a way into the house, and if you'll stay where you are for five minutes, I'll have the big doors unbarred and invite you in."
With that Ned stepped upon the piazza railing, caught a timber above, and easily swung himself up to the roof of the porch. Thence he made his way quickly to a round window in the garret – the house was only one story high, with a high garret story for the protection of the rooms from the heat of the sun. Pushing open this round window he sprang in, descended the stairs, and a moment later the boys heard him taking down the wooden bar which kept the great double doors fast. Then drawing the bolts at top and bottom, he swung the doors open without difficulty.
"Come in, boys," he cried. "I'll open the doors at the other side, and we'll have a breeze through the hall."
"But I say, old fellow," said Charley, "I don't like this. What will your uncle think of us for making free with his house in this way?"
"What, Uncle Edward? Why, he wouldn't ask how we got in if he were to get home now. He never troubles himself, and he's the best uncle in the world; so is Aunt Helen, or, I should say, she is the best aunt. And, besides, I tell you, this isn't Uncle Edward's house. It's my father's, and all the furniture is his too. Uncle Edward lives here just because he likes it here, and because father likes to have him here. But the house is ours, and sometimes we all come here without warning, and stay for months. It don't make any difference, except that more plates are put on the table. Every thing goes on just the same, and if Uncle Edward were to come in now he would hardly remember that we weren't here when he went away. So make yourselves easy. You're in my home just as much as if we were in Savannah, and there's nobody here to be bothered by our fun. We'll stay here and fish and row and bathe, and have a jolly time. The servants have all gone away, I suppose, except Maum Sally, but she'll take good care of us. You see, I'm her special pet. She has thought it her duty to coddle me and scold me and regulate me generally ever since I was born, and she likes nothing better. So come on out here and I'll introduce you unfortunate up-country boys to that greatest of human inventions, a joggling board. There are four or five of them on the front piazza."
This hospitable harangue satisfied the scruples of the boys, and the house was so pleasant, with its large, high rooms, wide hall, and broad piazzas – one of which looked out over the water, – the grounds were so tasteful, the trees so large and fine, and the whole aspect of Bluffton was so quiet and restful, that they were glad to settle themselves contentedly after their long tramp from the railroad at Hardeeville.
"The best way to get acquainted with a joggling board," said Ned, approaching a queer-looking structure on the piazza, "is to get on it. Try it and see, Charley. Don't be afraid. It won't turn over, and it can't break down. There," as Charley seated himself upon the board, "lie down now, and move almost any muscle you please the least bit in the world, and you'll understand what the thing is for."
"Oh! isn't it jolly!" exclaimed Charley, as the board began to sway gently under him and the breeze from the sea fanned him.
"It is all of that," replied Ned. "I'll get some pillows as soon as I get Jack to risk his precious neck on a board, and then we'll all be comfortable, like clams at high-tide. Jump up, Jack; it won't tip over. Now swing your legs up and lie down. There, how's that?"
Jack gave a sigh of satisfaction, while Ned ran into the house for sofa pillows. The three boys, tired as they were, soon ceased to talk, and fell asleep to the gentle swaying of the joggling boards.
CHAPTER III
AFLOAT
Once asleep on the cool, breeze-swept piazza, the three tired boys were not inclined to wake easily. The sun went down, but still they slept. Finally the teamster from Hardeeville arrived with the trunks on an ox-cart, and his loud cries to his oxen aroused Charley, who sprang up suddenly. Forgetting that his couch was a joggling board more than three feet high he undertook to step upon the floor as if he had been sleeping on an ordinary sofa. The result was that his feet, failing to reach the floor at the expected distance, were thrown backward under the board by the forward motion of the upper part of the body, and Master Charles Black, of Aiken, fell sprawling on the floor, waking both the other boys in alarm.
"What's up?" cried Ned.
"Nothing. I'm down," replied Charley. "I thought you said the thing wouldn't turn over."
"Well,
