Jack and Jill. Louisa May Alcott
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“Just wish I had a telegraph or a telephone, so I could talk to Jill. Wouldn't it be fun to pipe across and get an answer!”
“I'll make either you say;” and Frank looked as if trifles of that sort were to be had for the asking.
“Could you, really?”
“We'll start the telegraph first, then you can send things over if you like,” said Frank, prudently proposing the surest experiment.
“Go ahead, then. I'd like that, and so would Jill, for I know she wants to hear from me.”
“There's one trouble, though; I shall have to leave you alone for a few minutes while I rig up the ropes;” and Frank looked sober, for he was a faithful boy, and did not want to desert his post.
“Oh, never mind; I won't want anything. If I do, I can pound for Ann.”
“And wake mother. I'll fix you a better way than that;” and, full of inventive genius, our young Edison spliced the poker to part of a fishing-rod in a jiffy, making a long-handled hook which reached across the room.
“There's an arm for you; now hook away, and let's see how it works,” he said, handing over the instrument to Jack, who proceeded to show its unexpected capabilities by hooking the cloth off the table in attempting to get his handkerchief, catching Frank by the hair when fishing for a book, and breaking a pane of glass in trying to draw down the curtain.
“It's so everlasting long, I can't manage it,” laughed Jack, as it finally caught in his bed-hangings, and nearly pulled them, ring and all, down upon his head.
“Let it alone, unless you need something very much, and don't bother about the glass. It's just what we want for the telegraph wire or rope to go through. Keep still, and I'll have the thing running in ten minutes;” and, delighted with the job, Frank hurried away, leaving Jack to compose a message to send as soon as it was possible.
“What in the world is that flying across the Minots' yard,—a brown hen or a boy's kite?” exclaimed old Miss Hopkins, peering out of her window at the singular performances going on in her opposite neighbor's garden.
First, Frank appeared with a hatchet and chopped a clear space in the hedge between his own house and the cottage; next, a clothes line was passed through this aperture and fastened somewhere on the other side; lastly, a small covered basket, slung on this rope, was seen hitching along, drawn either way by a set of strings; then, as if satisfied with his job, Frank retired, whistling “Hail Columbia.”
“It's those children at their pranks again. I thought broken bones wouldn't keep them out of mischief long,” said the old lady, watching with great interest the mysterious basket travelling up and down the rope from the big house to the cottage.
If she had seen what came and went over the wires of the “Great International Telegraph,” she would have laughed till her spectacles flew off her Roman nose. A letter from Jack, with a large orange, went first, explaining the new enterprise:—
“Dear Jill,—It's too bad you can't come over to see me. I am pretty well, but awful tired of keeping still. I want to see you ever so much. Frank has fixed us a telegraph, so we can write and send things. Won't it be jolly! I can't look out to see him do it; but, when you pull your string, my little bell rings, and I know a message is coming. I send you an orange. Do you like gorver jelly? People send in lots of goodies, and we will go halves. Good-by.
“Jack”
Away went the basket, and in fifteen minutes it came back from the cottage with nothing in it but the orange.
“Hullo! Is she mad?” asked Jack, as Frank brought the despatch for him to examine.
But, at the first touch, the hollow peel opened, and out fell a letter, two gum-drops, and an owl made of a peanut, with round eyes drawn at the end where the stem formed a funny beak. Two bits of straw were the legs, and the face looked so like Dr. Whiting that both boys laughed at the sight.
“That's so like Jill; she'd make fun if she was half dead. Let's see what she says;” and Jack read the little note, which showed a sad neglect of the spelling-book:—
“Dear Jacky,—I can't stir and it's horrid. The telly graf is very nice and we will have fun with it. I never ate any gorver jelly. The orange was first rate. Send me a book to read. All about bears and ships and crockydiles. The doctor was coming to see you, so I sent him the quickest way. Molly Loo says it is dreadful lonesome at school without us. Yours truly,
“Jill”
Jack immediately despatched the book and a sample of guava jelly, which unfortunately upset on the way, to the great detriment of “The Wild Beasts of Asia and Africa.” Jill promptly responded with the loan of a tiny black kitten, who emerged spitting and scratching, to Jack's great delight; and he was cudgelling his brains as to how a fat white rabbit could be transported, when a shrill whistle from without saved Jill from that inconvenient offering.
“It's the fellows; do you want to see them?” asked Frank, gazing down with calm superiority upon the three eager faces which looked up at him.
“Guess I do!” and Jack promptly threw the kitten overboard, scorning to be seen by any manly eye amusing himself with such girlish toys.
Bang! went the front door; tramp, tramp, tramp, came six booted feet up the stairs; and, as Frank threw wide the door, three large beings paused on the threshold to deliver the courteous “Hullo!” which is the established greeting among boys on all social occasions.
“Come along, old fellows; I'm ever so glad to see you!” cried the invalid, with such energetic demonstrations of the arms that he looked as if about to fly or crow, like an excited young cockerel.
“How are you, Major?”
“Does the leg ache much, Jack?”
“Mr. Phipps says you'll have to pay for the new rails.”
With these characteristic greetings, the gentlemen cast away their hats and sat down, all grinning cheerfully, and all with eyes irresistibly fixed upon the dainties, which proved too much for the politeness of ever-hungry boys.
“Help yourselves,” said Jack, with a hospitable wave. “All the dear old ladies in town have been sending in nice things, and I can't begin to eat them up. Lend a hand and clear away this lot, or we shall have to throw them out of the window. Bring on the doughnuts and the tarts and the shaky stuff in the entry closet, Frank, and let's have a lark.”
No sooner said than done. Gus took the tarts, Joe the doughnuts, Ed the jelly, and Frank suggested “spoons all round” for the Italian cream. A few trifles in the way of custard, fruit, and wafer biscuits were not worth mentioning; but every dish was soon emptied, and Jack said, as he surveyed the scene of devastation with great satisfaction,—
“Call again to-morrow, gentlemen, and we will have another bout. Free lunches at 5 P.M. till further notice. Now tell me all the news.”
For half an hour, five tongues went like mill clappers, and there is no knowing when they would have stopped if the little bell had not suddenly rung with a violence that made them jump.
“That's