Dorothy at Oak Knowe

Other cheers followed this and in a moment the whole party had spread over the white grounds leading to the great slide, the good Bishop following more slowly with the other “grown-ups,” and softly clapping his mittened hands.

“Good! Fine! I like that. Dorothy has ignorantly done the one right thing. If she could only guess the secret which lies under all how thankful she would be that she made this choice and no other.”

CHAPTER XII

JOHN GILPIN JOINS THE SPORT

Old Michael stood on the wide platform at the top of the slide, his face aglow with eagerness, and his whole manner altered to boyish gayety. His great toboggan was perched on the angle of the incline, like a bird poised for flight, while he was bidding his company to: “Get on, ladies! Get on and let’s be off!”

Behind and around him were the other men employees of Oak Knowe, and every one of them, except the chef, enthusiastic over the coming sport. But he, unhappy mortal, preferred the warmth of his kitchen fire to this shivery pastime and had only entered into it to escape the gibing tongues of the other servants. Yet in point of costume he could “hold his head up with the best”; and the fact that he could, in this respect even outshine his comrades was some compensation for his cold-pinched toes.

The platform was crowded with toboggans and girls; the air rang with jest and laughter; with girlish squeals of pretended fear; and cries of: “Don’t crowd!” or: “Sit close, sit close!”

“Sit close” they did; the blanketed legs of each tobogganer pressed forward on either side of the girl in front, and all hands clasping the small rod that ran along the sides of the toboggan.

The slide had been built wide enough for two of the sleds abreast, and one side was usually left to the smaller ones of the experienced girls, who could be trusted to safely manage their own light craft.

To Michael and the matron was always accorded the honor of first slide on the right while the “best singles” coasted alongside on the left. That morning, by tacit consent, the new “Dorothy Calvert” was poised beside the big “Oak Knowe” and the Honorable Gwendolyn Borst-Kennard was a proud and happy girl, indeed, as she took her place upon it as guide and protector of ignorant Dorothy.

“She chose me of her own accord! I do believe she begins to really love me. Oh! it’s so nice to be just free and happy with her as the others are!” thought Gwen, as she took her own place and directed her mate just how to sit and act. Adding a final:

“Don’t you be one bit afraid. I never had an accident sliding and I’ve always done it every winter since I can remember. We’re off! Bow your head a little and – keep – your – mouth – shut!”

There wasn’t time! Dorothy felt a little quiver run through the thing on which she sat and a wild rush through icy air! That was all! They had reached the bottom of the first slide and began to fly upward over the other before she realized a thing. Gwen hadn’t even finished her directions before they had “arrived!”

The Southerner was too amazed, for a second, to even step off the toboggan, but Gwendolyn caught her up, gave her a hearty kiss and hug, and demanded:

“Well! Here we are! How do you like it! We’ve beat! We’ve beat!”

Dorothy rubbed her eyes. So they had, for at that instant the big Oak Knowe fetched up beside them, and its occupants stepped or tumbled off, throwing up their hands and cheering:

“Three cheers for the Dorothy Calvert! Queen of the Slide for all This Year!”

And liveliest among the cheerers was the once so dignified young “Peer,” the Honorable Gwen. Dorothy looking into her beaming face and hearing her happy voice could scarce believe this to be the same girl she had hitherto known. But she had scant time to think for here they came, thick and fast, toboggan after toboggan, Seventh Form girls and Minims, teachers and pupils, the Bishop and the chef, maids and men-servants, the matron and old Michael – all in high spirits, all apparently talking at once and so many demanding of “Miss Dixie” how she liked it, that she could answer nobody.

Then the Bishop pushed back her tasseled hood and smiled into her shining eyes:

“Well little ‘Betty the Second,’ can you beat that down at old Baltimore? What do you think now? Isn’t it fine – fine? Doesn’t it make you feel you’re a bird of the air? Ah! it’s grand – grand. Just tell me you like it and I’ll let you go.”

“I – Yes – I reckon I do! I hadn’t time to think. We hadn’t started, and we were here.”

“Up we go. Try her again!” cried one, and the climb back to the top promptly began, the men carrying the heavier sleds, the girls their lighter ones, Gwendolyn and Dorothy their own between them. Then the fun all over again; the jests at awkward starts, the cheers at skillful ones, the laughter and good will, till all felt the exhilaration of the moment and every care was forgotten.

Many a slide was taken and now Dorothy could answer when asked did she like it:

“It’s just grand, as the Bishop said. At first I could hardly breathe and I was dizzy. Now I do as Gwen tells me and I love it! I should like to stay out here all day!”

“Wait till dinner-time! Then you’ll be ready enough to go in. Tobogganing is the hungriest work – or play – there can possibly be!” said Gwendolyn, pirouetting about on the ice as gracefully as on a waxed floor, the merriest, happiest girl in all that throng. Not only Dorothy but many another observed her with surprise. This was a new Gwen, not the stand-offish sort of creature who had once so haughtily scorned all their fun. She had always tobogganed, every year that she had been in that school, but she had never enjoyed it like this; and again as the Bishop regarded her, he nodded his head in satisfaction and said to the matron:

“I told you so. I knew it. Do a kindness to somebody and it will return to yourself in happiness a thousand fold.”

“Thanks, dear Bishop! I’ll try to remember,” merrily answered she; noticing that Gwendolyn had drawn near enough to hear, and taking this little preachment to herself to prevent Gwendolyn’s doing so. She was so pleased by sight of the girl’s present happiness that she wished nothing to cloud it, and believing herself discussed would certainly offend proud, sensitive Gwen.

Almost two hours had passed, and a few were beginning to tire of the really arduous sport, with its upward climb, so out of proportion to the swift descent; when suddenly fresh shouts of laughter rang out from the high platform and those ascending made haste to join the others at the top.

There stood old John Gilpin and Robin, the latter’s young bones now sound and strong again, and himself much the better for his sojourn at the cottage with his enforced rest and abundance of good food.

“Well, well! How be ye all? Hearty, you look, and reg’lar circus pictures in them warm duds! Good day to your Reverence, Bishop, and I hope I see you in good health. My humble respects, your Reverence, and I thought as how I’d just step up and ask your Reverence might my lad here and me have a try on your slide. I thought – why, sir, the talk on’t has spread way into town a’ready, sir, and there’ll be more beggars nor me seekin’ use on’t, your Reverence – ”

The prelate’s hearty laughter rang out on the frosty air, a sound delightful to hear, so full it was of genial humanity, and he grasped the hand of the old teamster as warmly as he would that of a far wealthier man.

“Man to man, John, we’re all in the same boat to-day. Drop the formality and welcome to the sport. But what sort of sled is this, man? Looks rather rough, doesn’t it? Sure you could manage it on this steep incline?”

John bridled and Robin looked disappointed. Expectations of the toboggan-slide’s being made ready had filled his head, and he and the old man had toiled for hours to make the sled at which the Bishop looked so doubtfully.

“Well, your Reverence – I mean – you without the Reverence – ” here the Bishop smiled and Robin giggled, thereby causing his host to turn about with a frown. “You see, sir, Robin’s always been hearin’ about your toboggan up here to Oak Knowe and’s been just plumb crazy – ”

At this point the shy lad pulled John’s coat, silently begging him to leave him out of the talk; but the farmer had been annoyed by Robin’s ill-timed giggle, and testily inquired:

“Well, sir, ain’t that so? Didn’t you pester the life clean out o’ me till I said I’d try? Hey?”

“Y-yes,” meekly assented the boy; then catching a glimpse of Dorothy and Winifred and their beckoning nods he slipped away to them. To him Dorothy proudly exhibited her beautiful toboggan, explaining its fine construction with a glibness that fitted an “old tobogganer” better than this beginner at the sport. Gwen’s face beamed again, listening to her, as if she felt a more personal pride in the sled than even Dorothy herself. She even unbent so far from her pride of rank as to suggest:

“If you’ll let me borrow it and he’d like to go, I’ll take Robin down once, to show him how smoothly it runs.”

Robin’s eyes sparkled. He wasn’t shy with girls, but only when he felt himself made too conspicuous by his host’s talk.

“Would you? Could she? May she?” he cried, teetering about on his ragged shoes in an ecstasy of delight.

Dolly laughed and clapped her hands.

“Verily, she should, would, can, and may! laddie boy. But where’s your jacket? I mean your other one? It’s so cold, you’ll freeze in that thin one.”

By the color which came to the lad’s cheek Dolly realized that she had asked a “leading question,” but Robin’s dismay lasted only an instant; then he laughed merrily at the “good joke,” and answered:

“Well, you see, Miss Dorothy, my ‘other one’ is at some tailor’s shop in town. I haven’t had a chance yet to choose one, let alone pay for it! But what matter? ’Tisn’t winter all the year and who wears top-coats in summer? Did she really mean it?”

Gwendolyn proved that she “really meant it” by pushing the “Dorothy Calvert” into position and nodding to him that she was ready.

“All right! Let her go!” he responded to her silent invitation and away they went, as ill-matched a pair as might have been found. But he had a boy’s fearlessness and love of adventure; and even on that swift descent his gay whistling floated back to those above.

Meanwhile, John Gilpin was explaining with considerable pride, yet thankful that the Bishop was out of hearing on his own downward-speeding toboggan:

“You see, lassie, how’t Robin was dead set to come. Said he knew so good a man as his Reverence wouldn’t say ‘No’ to us, and just kept teasin’ at me till we stepped-an’-fetched a lot of staves come off a hogshead. So I fastened ’em together on the insides – See? And we’ve shaved an’ shaved, an’ glass-scraped ’em on ’tother till they’ll never hurt no slide ’t ever was iced. The Bishop seemed terr’ble afraid I’d rough up his track with it, but it’s a poor track that water won’t freeze smooth again; so if we do happen to scratch it a mite, I’ll step-an’-fetch a few buckets o’ water and fix it up again. And say, girlie, where’s that Jack, boot-boy? And Baal? I ain’t seen hide nor hair of ary one this long spell, an’ I allow I kind of sorter miss ’em. He used to give the dame the fidgets with his yarns of what he’s goin to be an’ do, time comes, but me an’ him got on fairly well – fairly. As for that goat, he was the amusingest little creatur’ ’t ever jumped a fence, even if we did fight most of the time. Hah, hum! I’ve noticed more’n once that the folks or things you quarrel with are the ones you miss most, once they’re gone.”

“We haven’t seen Jack since that time he locked me in the drying-room. He ran away, I reckon, and took Baal with him. And it’s just like you say: nobody liked him much, and he was always in disgrace with somebody, but I heard the Lady Principal say, only yesterday, that she actually believed she missed that worthless boot-boy more than any other servant who might have left.”

“Well, now, Dorothy, don’t that beat all? That book-l’arned lady just agreein’ with me! I often tell Dame ’t I know more’n she thinks I do, but all she’ll answer to that is: ‘John, that’ll do.’ A rare silent woman is my Dame but a powerful thinker. Hello! Here they come back again. Robin! Robin! Look-a-here! You didn’t bamboozle me into makin’ our sled and climbin’ this height just to leave me go for a passel o’ silly girls! No, siree! You come and slide with me right to once. I set out to go a-tobogganin’ an’ I’m goin’. So none of your backslidin’ now!”