back the way they came, but ran down the low roof, along the wall,
and leaping off at a corner they vanished a minute and re-appeared
without their plunder. Rob ran to the place, and in a hollow under
the leaves he found a heap of the stolen property hidden away to
be carried off to the holes by and by.
“Oh, you little villains! I’ll cheat you now, and not leave one,” said
Rob. So he cleared the corner and the corn-barn, and put the
contested nuts in the garret, making sure that no broken
window-pane could anywhere let in the unprincipled squirrels.
They seemed to feel that the contest was over, and retired to their
hole, but now and then could not resist throwing down nut-shells
on Rob’s head, and scolding violently as if they could not forgive
him nor forget that he had the best of the battle.
Father and Mother Bhaer’s crop was of a different sort, and not so
easily described; but they were satisfied with it, felt that their
summer work had prospered well, and by and by had a harvest that
made them very happy.
CHAPTER XIX JOHN BROOKE
“Wake up, Demi, dear! I want you.”
“Why, I’ve just gone to bed; it can’t be morning yet;” and Demi
blinked like a little owl as he waked from his first sound sleep.
“It’s only ten, but your father is ill, and we must go to him. O my
little John! my poor little John!” and Aunt Jo laid her head down
on the pillow with a sob that scared sleep from Demi’s eyes and
filled his heart with fear and wonder; for he dimly felt why Aunt
Jo called him “John,” and wept over him as if some loss had come
that left him poor. He clung to her without a word, and in a minute
she was quite steady again, and said, with a tender kiss as she saw
his troubled face,
“We are going to say good-by to him, my darling, and there is no
time to lose; so dress quickly and come to me in my room. I must
go to Daisy.”
“Yes, I will;” and when Aunt Jo was gone, little Demi got up
quietly, dressed as if in a dream, and leaving Tommy fast asleep
went away through the silent house, feeling that something new
and sorrowful was going to happen something that set him apart
from the other boys for a time, and made the world seem as dark
and still and strange as those familiar rooms did in the night. A
carriage sent by Mr. Laurie stood before the door. Daisy was soon
ready, and the brother and sister held each other by the hand all the
way into town, as they drove swiftly and silently with aunt and
uncle through the shadowy roads to say good-by to father.
None of the boys but Franz and Emil knew what had happened,
and when they came down next morning, great was their
wonderment and discomfort, for the house seemed forlorn without
its master and mistress. Breakfast was a dismal meal with no
cheery Mrs. Jo behind the teapots; and when school-time came,
Father Bhaer’s place was empty. They wandered about in a
disconsolate kind of way for an hour, waiting for news and hoping
it would be all right with Demi’s father, for good John Brooke was
much beloved by the boys. Ten o’clock came, and no one arrived
to relieve their anxiety. They did not feel like playing, yet the time
dragged heavily, and they sat about listless and sober. All at once,
Franz got up, and said, in his persuasive way,
“Look here, boys! let’s go into school and do our lessons just as if
Uncle was here. It will make the day go faster, and will please
him, I know.”
“But who will hear us say them?” asked Jack.
“I will; I don’t know much more than you do, but I’m the oldest
here, and I’ll try to fill Uncle’s place till he comes, if you don’t
mind.”
Something in the modest, serious way Franz said this impressed
the boys, for, though the poor lad’s eyes were red with quiet crying