“And to lunch, Jack,” she added, in dire dismay. “What made you ask him to a meal?”
“I don’t know. The invitation was out before I thought. But you would have asked him, too. He seems so kind of lonely, and he says he dotes on picnics. You can manage something simple; can’t you?” the boy asked anxiously.
“I’ll try hard, of course. Do you suppose you could catch a few fish in the morning?”
“Probably, and I saw some ripe huckleberries as I came along this afternoon. The youngsters can gather some of those, and we’ll get along all right.”
The children were delighted at the prospect of “company,” and immediately after breakfast, Jack escorted them, armed with a tin pail and a couple of cups, across a field to the berry bushes loaded with blue fruit.
“When the pail is filled, go right back the way we came, and take the berries to Desiré,” he instructed, as he set out in a different direction for the river, with his fish pole. The banks of the sparkling stream were pink with masses of wild roses, freshly opened and wet with dew.
“Desiré would be crazy over these,” he thought. “Guess I’ll take some to her when I go back.”
An hour’s fishing resulted in enough fish for a meal; and after cutting an armful of roses, Jack returned to camp. The children had reached there ahead of him, and were busy making things ready for the eagerly awaited guest.
Desiré had laid on the ground, in a shady spot, a red-bordered tablecloth, anchored it at each corner with a stone concealed by a pile of pine cones. She greeted Jack’s offering with enthusiasm—“Just what we need for the centre of the table. Prissy, get an empty fruit can to put them in, and lay some big ferns around it. I must attend to my biscuits.”
It was wonderful what good things Desiré could cook on the little camp stove, which they really had not felt able to afford when they saw it in Yarmouth. “It will pay for itself very soon,” she had argued; “for we can’t live on cold food all the time; and eating in restaurants is awfully expensive.” Jack had approved; so the stove and even a little oven to set on top of it, when needed, had been added to old Simon’s outfit.
About twelve o’clock a Ford coupé was seen in the distance, and soon came to a stop beside the Wistmores who, one and all, stood in a row in front of the camp. A thin little man with heavy white hair got nimbly out of the car.
“This is my family, Judge Herbine,” said Jack; “Desiré, Priscilla, and René.”
“Very glad, indeed, to know you all,” replied the judge, bowing low with old-fashioned courtesy, but gazing searchingly at each one over the tops of the glasses which he wore so far out on his nose that it was a miracle that they stayed on at all. Priscilla was so fascinated by them that she could hardly keep her eyes off them.
“We’ll have lunch right away,” announced Desiré; “so please take your places at the table. This is yours, Judge,” indicating the side facing the road, where a cushion had been placed. The others sat on the ground.
The fish which Jack had fried over a camp fire, while Desiré finished her biscuits, were done to a turn; and the judge did full justice to them.
“These biscuits are mighty fine,” he commented, “and you say you made them on that little gadget of a stove? Marvelous! Marvelous!”
After the huckleberries and some wafers which Desiré had taken from their stock were disposed of, the guest insisted upon helping clear up. He was a lively little man, and skipped hither and thither, carrying dishes, picking up papers, and making himself generally useful.
“Now for a visit,” he said, settling himself beside a tall pine, leaning back against its trunk, and stretching his legs, clad in cream-colored crash, straight out in front of him.
CHAPTER XVI
A NEW FRIEND
“So you’re going to try to live in the old Godet house this winter—”
“Oh, are we?” cried Priscilla, throwing herself on Desiré.
“Oh! Oh!” shrieked René joyfully, not very clear as to what the rejoicing was about, but determined to have his full share in it anyway.
“Have I let the cat out of the bag?” inquired the judge, startled at the effect of his question.
“We had not yet told the children,” replied Jack; “but it’s quite all right, for they would have known soon, anyway.”
“Sorry—sorry. You two youngsters just forget what I said.”
The man talked in a rapid, jerky fashion which reminded Desiré of the way a robin runs along, a few steps very fast, stops up short, and then repeats the process.
“Now, I was going to say, where do you expect to house your team this winter?”
Jack and Desiré looked at each other in dismay.
“I never thought of that,” said the boy slowly.
“Well, I did. Got an empty barn at my place—no good to me—Ford is lost in it—plenty of room for your horses and wagon—”
“If you’ll let—”
“Now I know just what you’re—going to say—and I won’t. But if you’d—feel better about it—let this good sister of yours—make me some biscuits once in a while. Don’t get this kind very often.”
“I’d just love to,” replied Desiré warmly, while Jack tried to express his thanks, to which the old man refused to listen.
“Where are you going from here?” continued the judge.
“Right on to Halifax, then back again,” replied Jack.
“Now I was thinking—while we were eating—know how to make things out of birch bark—and out of pine cones?” turning to Desiré. “No? Then I’ll show you.”
Scrambling lightly to his feet, and followed by the young Wistmores, he darted across the road to a large birch tree; and drawing a knife from his pocket, showed them how to obtain strips of bark without injuring the tree. Returning to the camp, he ordered the two children to gather up a lot of cones. The rest of the afternoon was spent in learning to make boxes, baskets, and picture frames.
“There’re lots of tourists in Halifax—always looking for souvenirs—at railroad station, cab stands, and such. Wharf, too, is a good place to offer this stuff. No reason why you two girls shouldn’t do that—perfectly safe.”
“Now I’m going home,” he announced suddenly at about five o’clock. “Had a good time. See you often this winter. I’ll keep an eye on that boy who is going to fix up your cabin—ready when you come back this way—if you don’t come too soon.”
“Isn’t he funny?” commented Priscilla, as the Ford drove out of sight.
“But charming,” added Desiré.
“Oh, yes, I like him a lot.”
“Me,
