IT had been arranged that for the first week Regie and Harry1 and Nan should be allowed to do pretty much as they liked, but after that lessons should be regularly begun with Sister Julia. Rex and Harry had reached about the' same point in their studies, but poor little Nan was a good way behind, farther than her years would warrant. All the winter before she had attended school at the Branch, but she had pleaded very hard not to be sent back again.
“It is such a large school,” she had told her mother, “that when you get ahead they have to hold you back for the other girls, and so you don't learn very much.”
Mrs. Murray could not help smiling at her excuse for having made so little progress, knowing well enough the fault lay in the fact that she could not or would not apply her mind to the task which had been set her, but Nan hailed with delight this plan for studying with Sister Julia. Of course it had to be quite independently of the boys, because they were so far ahead of her, but somehow or other she was really in earnest about the matter, and did get along finely. The greatest incentive2 to hard study came to her in the mortification3 she felt one evening at not being able to enter into a game of Regie's, because she could not read the printing on the cards belonging to the game.
Now that the children had settled down to their schooling4 the time flew faster than ever, and before they knew it, enough days had come and gone to allow “Uncle Sam,” one morning, to shake a letter out of his mail-bag, directed to Regie and postmarked “London.”
“See here, Reginald, I've brought something for you,” called Captain Murray, coming with the mail, just as the children were setting off from the house, for it was Saturday and they had planned to spend the morning on the beach.
“Hurrah! here's another!” shouted Regie, for he had already received a steamer letter, which had been mailed when the Alaska touched at Queenstown.
“Yes, another letter,” answered the captain, handing it to him, “and it's a rouser.”
Regie stood irresolute5 a moment. “I tell you, boys,” he said, always forgetting that Nan could not be included under this general title, “I tell you, I'll save it till we get fixed6 all comfortable on the beach, and then I'll read it to you.”
“All right; let's start,” said Harry, and the little party started, though Rex had some misgivings7 as to his ability to master Mamma Fairfax's handwriting, for he knew from the direction that the letter was from her. “We haven't played that king game much,” he said, as they trudged8 along. He was able to manage with a little cane9 now in place of the crutches10.
“Seems to me we're kind of playing it,” answered Harry, glancing down at a heavy rug that he himself was carrying, and then over towards a luncheon11 basket with which Nan was laden12: “at any rate the body-guard are sort of waiting on Your Highness.”
“Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Harry Murray?” cried Nan, resenting the indignity13. “You oughtn't to expect Regie to help carry things until he can walk as well as you and I do.”
“I hope he'll walk a good sight better than you do before very long,” retorted Harry, in a teasing mood. “See, Nan, this is the way you always get over the ground,” and Harry threw aside the rug the better to imitate Nan's funny gait, characterised by a straightness on Nan's part amounting to an actual bending backward, and a jerky, independent little step. Harry hit it exactly, and Regie laughed immoderately, which was not very polite, considering Nan's gallant14 defence of him a few moments before. But Nan smiled, too, in spite of herself.
“I can't help it if I am too straight,” she said; “there's one good thing,—straight people are not so dangerous of having consumption.”
“Look out, Nan, you'll choke if you use such big words,” advised Harry.
“No, really, I think it would be real fun to play the king game this morning,” urged Regie, as they came to a spot on the beach where, by mutual15 consent, they spread out the rug and sat down.
“All right, then,” replied Harry, “and I'll be the king.”
“Then I shall not play,” said Nan, “I am not going to keep changing kings every day.”
“Of course not,” Regie laughed, “you believe in the divine right, don't you, Nan?” Regie had just learned what “divine right” meant, and proudly aired his knowledge.
“I don't know,” said Nan, “but whenever we play I believe in your being the king; I never could think of Harry as a king for a moment. Besides, you're our company, and we ought to wait on you.”
“Bosh!” said Harry, “I don't call people what boards in your house, company.”
“'What boards!'” repeated Nan. “Well, I should think you'd better brush up your grammar, Mr. Murray. Oh, the letter,” she added, nodding in the direction of Regie's pocket.
“Oh, to be sure; why, I'd almost forgotten it,” and Rex drew out his knife and carefully cut the envelope open at one end, after a neat little fashion of his own.
“'London, September 19th. My dear Reginald,'” he read, then paused, for in the very first sentence he discovered a word that he could not quite make out.
“Guess I'd better read it to myself first,” he said, “there may be something private in it.” Harry gave a significant cough, which meant that it was easy enough to see through such a flimsy excuse as that. Regie wisely paid no attention to it. Both the children knew it must necessarily be many minutes before they would be favoured with the contents of the letter, so Nan threw herself back on the rug, laid one arm under her head, and gazing out over the ocean gave herself up to the most delightful16 daydreams17. Harry resorted to whittling18, that occupation of all leisure moments.
Suddenly, after ten minutes of unbroken quiet, Regie began again, making brief halts now and then before words that still proved a little puzzling.
“London, September 19th.
“'My dear Reginald,—I doubt if there is a half hour in which we do not speak of you, or five minutes in that half hour in which we do not think of you, and so you can understand that we are pretty fond of a little fellow we have left behind us. Indeed, Papa Fairfax said, only a few minutes ago, that he wanted so much to see Regie that if he was not sure that he was very happy he thinks he would have to send some one away to America to bring him over.'”
“Oh! do you think he will?” questioned Nan.
“Of course not, goosie,” Harry retorted, “don't interrupt again. Go on, Rex.”
——“'But if he did,'” Regie resumed, “'you would have to hurry to catch us, for we shall be obliged to travel pretty fast as soon as we leave London. You do not need to get out the atlas19 to look up the place where this letter comes from, do you? Even little Nan knows how London looks on the map.'”
“Don't believe it,” muttered Harry, half under his breath, but loudly enough for Nan to hear him.
“Do, too,” whispered Nan, with a defiant20 shake of her curls; “but please don't interrupt. Go on, Rex.” Rex did not mind these interruptions in the least, as they gave him a chance to look ahead a little.
“'It is ten years,'” he went on, reading slowly, “'since Papa Fairfax and I were here before, and we hardly know this London in the sunshine, for the old London of fog and rain, since we are having wonderfully clear weather. I shall have to wait till we reach home to tell you all about the sights of London. When you are older I shall hope to visit with you all the places where Papa Fairfax and I have been this morning,—Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul's, and the Tower. How you will enjoy the Tower, but in a sad sort of way, because so many sorrowful things have happened there. Last evening we strolled in for a while to see Madame Tussaud's wax figures, naturally looking rather more grimy and dusty than they did ten years ago.
“'And now, Rex, I have several other letters to send off by this same steamer, so this must do for the present. Do not forget to write once a week surely, either to Papa Fairfax or to me.
“'Yours lovingly,
“'Mamma Fairfax.
“That's a nice letter,” said Regie, gazing rather wistfully out to sea.
“Very nice,” said Nan, “but you don't want to go, do you?”
Poor little Nan was blessed with a lively imagination.
I say “poor Nan,” for these lively imaginations play such sorry tricks upon the little folk and big folk who happen to possess them. Nan had but to catch a glimpse of the wistful look in Regie's eyes straightway to make up her mind that he was unhappy and lonely, and would gladly leave them all if he could.
“No, I don't want to go exactly,” answered Rex; “but I guess you'd feel a little queer sometimes if that great ocean were between you and your father and mother.”
“I do not believe I'd mind if I was on the same side of it with you, Regie,” said Nan, betraying her unbounded admiration21 for his little Royal Highness.
“Nan, you're a regular spoony,” remarked Harry.
“I don't know what a spoony is,” Nan answered; “but of course it's something horrid22, or you would not call me one,” and she gave a little sigh which seemed to come almost from the soles of her boots. She did have to put up with a great deal of teasing from this brother of hers. Regie came to her rescue.
“You're not a spoony, Nan, at all,” he said; “and, Harry, you don't deserve to have a sister. You do tease her awfully23.”
“What's the harm?” said Harry, sullenly24. “But, Nan,” he added, “I wish you would remember this, that I would not care to tease you if I did not really love you, and that when I stop it will be a bad sign.”
“What's going on up there?” asked Nan, willing to change the subject.
“They're getting ready for a drill at the Life-saving Station,” Harry answered, glancing in the direction toward which Nan was pointing. Regie was on the alert in a moment.
“Oh, are they? do let's go up there. I never saw a drill in all my life, and I never was in a Station but once.”
It was an old story to Nan and Harry, but Regie was up and off, and the body-guard must needs follow.
The station was one of those low, oblong buildings, which, dotting the coast at regular intervals25, are to be found in the neighbourhood of all sea-shore resorts in the United States, and whose well-trained crew have been the means of saving many, many lives. This one little station at Moorlow had the grand record of having rescued five hundred persons in the nine years since it was established.
“What are you going to do?” asked Rex, the moment he came within speaking distance of two men who were dropping a coil of rope into a box.
“Going to have a drill,” one of them answered; “there's no telling how soon we may have a wreck26, and we must be ready for it. We had two last November.”
Regie was about to say that he hoped they would have at least two this November, but realised what a dreadful wish that would be in time to check himself.
“What will be the best place to see it from?” he asked. “I would not miss any of it for the world.”
The men were amused at his earnest manner.
“That boat hull27 will be a good place,” said one of them; “but you'd better understand about things first. You see we are going to fire a shell out of this here howitzer, and the shell is fastened-to this long coil of rope, so that when it goes whizzing away to the wreck it carries this rope—the whip-line we call it—with it.”
“Why, yonder,” and the man pointed29 down the beach to where a piece of timber, with cross-pieces resembling a mast, was firmly planted in the sand. “There's our wreck, and we are going to send this rope flying over it.”
“And what are you going to do then?”
“Why, then, one of the men, who is supposed to be on the wreck, will haul away on the line till the big rope which is fastened to the little rope is drawn30 over, so that we can send the breeches-buoy31 buzzing along the line.”
“The breeches-buoy?” questioned Regie.
“Yes, to be sure. Have you never seen one?”
“I think not; I was never in a Life-saving Station but once, and that was in the summer, when there was nothing particular going on, and nobody to tell me anything.”
“Then you come right along into the Station with me,” said the man, kindly32, “and I'll show you the breeches-buoy, and some other things besides. Why, there's Captain Murray's children,” spying Harry and Nan seated on the sand at a little distance; “they know the old Station by heart. Hallo, Nan!” he called, “come, show this little stranger through the Station.”
“Why, that's Reginald Fairfax, Mr. Burton,” cried Nan, coming toward them, and in a tone of surprise at such ignorance. “He lives at our house, and he's no little stranger at all.”
“Oh, that's it, is it?” said Joe Burton, with elevated eyebrows33; “well, then, Miss Murray, please have the kindness to show Mr. Fairfax through the Station.”
Regie would have preferred to adhere to the original plan of having Mr. Burton for a guide, but was sufficiently34 polite not to betray his preference.
“You won't begin the drill before I come out, will you?” he called out to Mr. Burton.
“Never you fear,” was the reassuring35 answer.
Nan showed Regie through, and was able to answer all questions to the perfect satisfaction of his little Royal Highness. First they went into the large room where the surf-boat was kept, and the life-saving car, which was oval in shape, with a cover fitting tightly over it. It was large enough to hold five people, and was sent out on the line to a wreck when the weather was too rough for the breeches-buoy. The breeches-buoy was a funny contrivance, made to accommodate one person at a time, and closely resembling a life-preserver in tarpaulin36 knee-breeches. Attached to it was an arrangement of pulleys and wheels, by means of which it could be run to and fro on a line from the wreck. At the farther end of the room hung the shells which had been fired from the mortar37 at different times. They were painted red, and each bore in white letters the name of the particular wreck to which it had proved such a welcome messenger.
From this larger room opened the “mess room,” a kitchen, where the crew spent most of their time during the long winter months. A steep little stairway ran up from one corner to the loft38 overhead where the men slept. At one end of it a large window looked out to sea, and from the centre of the room a short flight of ladder-like stairs led into the cupola which surmounted39 the Station, and from which you see a great distance in every direction. The view from the cupola this clear October morning was glorious.
The water was wonderfully blue, with here and there a white sail skimming over it, as lightly and airily as the fleecy clouds across the blue of the sky. Regie and Nan stood side by side, taking in the beauty of the scene. Presently Nan said, “Yes, I do love the ocean so, it seems to me I couldn't live away from it; as though I should die if I had to, the same as little plants and things die without water.”
“Yes, I guess you would,” answered Regie; “and do you know, Nan, I believe you must have been born on just such a day as this, for your eyes have the same shade of blue in them as the sea. Besides, you are like a little wave anyway, a daring little wave that comes scampering40 way up the beach and then—and then——,” Rex paused. He was sure he had hold of a very fine idea, but somehow he could not get on. A half-suppressed giggle41 from the stairway did not help matters much, nor a whispered, “Guess you're stuck, old fellow.” Harry always had a faculty42 for turning up when he was not wanted, and never when he was. Nan was thoroughly43 provoked at him. She liked what Rex was saying about her being just a little wave of the sea, and now she should never know how he was going to finish. But for Rex Harry's coming was quite fortunate, for he was himself quite at a loss to know how he should wind up the flowery little speech begun so bravely.
“You two spoonies had better come down,” Harry added, descending44 the little flight of stairs as noiselessly as he had come. Just then one of the men waved his hand as a sign that the drill was about to commence, and the children hurried down to join Harry, where he sat comfortably established on the hull of the old boat. The drill amounted to little more than a series of experiments with the breeches-buoy. The whip-line was shot over the improvised45 mast, and one after another all the crew got into the buoy and came spinning down the line.
“Oh! I should think that would be such fun,” said Regie; “but unless we're wrecked46 some day I suppose we'll never have a chance to try it.”
“Why not?” said Harry; “I warrant you they'll let us play with it awhile when the drill's over. I'll ask one of the crew.”
“Seeing as you're Captain Murray's children we can't refuse you,” answered Joe Burton, “but look out for yourselves, that you don't get a tumble. The little 'un had better not try it.” With Harry's help Rex managed to climb the ladder attached to the mast, and after they had each had two or three rides apiece, Nan could resist the temptation no longer. Watching her chance when the boys were standing47 for a moment with their backs turned, she clambered up the ladder, and dropped into the buoy. It was a very funny sight, the red-stockinged legs dangling48 in mid-air, and the blue eyes just peering over the edge of it, for she was such a little tot as to be quite swallowed up by this contrivance intended for grown-up people. But oh! the fun of it. It seemed more like flying than anything else in the world, and in regular turn Harry and Rex and Nan took ride after ride.
Never, I venture, did three children enjoy a morning of rarer sport, or do better justice to such a delicious dinner as they found waiting for them when they went home at noon.
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1
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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3
mortification
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| n.耻辱，屈辱 | |
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schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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irresolute
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| adj.无决断的，优柔寡断的，踌躇不定的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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7
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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9
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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crutches
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| n.拐杖, 支柱 v.支撑 | |
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luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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indignity
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| n.侮辱，伤害尊严，轻蔑 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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daydreams
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| n.白日梦( daydream的名词复数 )v.想入非非，空想( daydream的第三人称单数 ) | |
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whittling
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的现在分词 ) | |
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atlas
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| n.地图册，图表集 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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hull
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| n.船身；(果、实等的)外壳；vt.去(谷物等)壳 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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buoy
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| n.浮标；救生圈；v.支持，鼓励 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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scampering
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| v.蹦蹦跳跳地跑，惊惶奔跑( scamper的现在分词 ) | |
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giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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