Natalie: A Garden Scout

CHAPTER III – GREEN HILL FARM

Saturday morning Miss Mason drove her brother’s car up to the curb before the elegant apartment house where Natalie lived, and motioned the door-man to come out.

“Please telephone to the Averills’ apartment and say Miss Mason is waiting in the car. Let me know if they are ready.”

The uniformed attendant bowed politely and hurried in to obey the order. In a few moments Miss Mason heard a happy voice calling from the window in one of the upper apartments. She leaned out and tried to look up, but all she could see was a fluttering of several handkerchiefs waved from several hands.

Then the porter came out and smilingly said: “Mrs. James says they will be right down, Miss.”

“Thank you,” was Miss Mason’s reply, and she sat back to wait. But she had not very long for that, as a bevy of merry girls hurried out of the front door and ran across the walk.

“Oh, Miss Mason! Isn’t it a glorious day?” called Janet.

“Couldn’t be finer if we had ordered it for our trip!” added Belle joyously.

“And what do you think, Miss Mason?” cried Natalie, as happy as the others. “Jimmy had Rachel pack us a lovely picnic lunch so we could spend some time at the farm this noon. Won’t it be fun?”

“Indeed it will – especially if that famous cook of yours prepared the goodies, Natalie,” laughed Miss Mason.

“Jimmy will be down with us in a minute, Miss Mason,” added Natalie; “she just stopped to telephone Mr. Marvin that we were all going to motor out to the farm. Maybe he can come out, too, and join us there.”

“That will be splendid, as he can explain matters we may not understand,” returned Miss Mason.

“I’m sure there’s nothing to understand about a farm,” ventured Natalie, laughingly.

“You say that because you never lived on one. But once you do, you will find out that the soil on your garden will have a great deal to do with the success of your vegetables. Even flowers need certain grades of soil before they grow to perfection. If you have a pasture lot on the farm, the quality of the grass will control the grade and amount of milk from the cows; it will prove valuable, or otherwise, to your horses, to the sheep, or other stock. Even the chickens that scratch over the field will show results in the good or poor soil they feed in.”

“Why! How very interesting!” exclaimed Janet, wonderingly.

“But that need not bother us, Miss Mason, as vegetables and stock will not come into our lives,” laughed Natalie.

Mrs. James had come out of the house and now she heard what Natalie said. “My dear child, one of the main reasons for our going to live on the farm is to offset the high cost of living in the city. By raising our own vegetables and eggs and chickens, we can live for one-tenth of the cost in the city.”

“But, Jimmy, not one of us knows a thing about farming!” chuckled Natalie, amused at the very idea.

“Perhaps you don’t know anything, but I do, Natalie.” Mrs. James spoke gently. “I spent a few years of my early married life on a lovely farm near Philadelphia, dear, and there is not very much that I did not learn while there. To make a success of the investment, I found I had to take hold, personally, and not only supervise the work, but know how to do it, and to do it if occasion demanded it of me.”

“Now it will just come in fine for Nat, won’t it?” declared Janet, enthusiastically. Mrs. James and the teacher laughed appreciatively at the remark.

“Do tell us, Jimmy, – did Mr. Marvin say he would try to meet us at Green Hill?” asked Natalie, as the car started.

“Yes, he said he would try to get an old friend to accompany him. He was not sure that she could get away, but he proposed trying to coax her to do so.”

“Is it an old friend of his?” asked Natalie.

“Yes, a friend of many years’ standing,” replied Mrs. James, smiling down at her idle hands.

“Do you know her?” continued Natalie, seeing the smile.

“Oh yes, – very well indeed!”

“Do I know her, too?”

“Yes, you know her.”

“Maybe we all know her, – do we?” asked Janet suddenly.

“Yes, – you all know her,” laughed Mrs. James.

“Who can it be?” exclaimed several voices, but Janet tossed her head and smiled knowingly at Mrs. James. The latter placed a finger on her lips for secrecy, and Janet nodded.

Many guesses were given but no one thought of the right name, and Mrs. James refused to divulge the secret. Then so many interesting sights were seen, as they drove swiftly along the Boulevard that runs through the Bronx Parkway and northwards through the pretty country section of Westchester, that the old friend who was to join them later at Green Hill Farm was eclipsed.

After a pleasant drive of less than an hour, Miss Mason turned off the Central Avenue road and followed a cross-country road that ran through the village where the farmers of that part of the country did their shopping and got their mail.

“If this is a village, where are the stores?” asked Natalie.

“I see it!” exclaimed Mrs. James.

“Oh, I see a little house with a few brooms standing on the front stoop. A sign swinging over the door says ‘Post Office,’ – but you don’t mean to say that is our only shop?” laughed Natalie, as she jeered at the general country store.

“That is the ‘Emporium’ for Green Hill,” said Mrs. James.

“No wonder, then, that we’ll have to raise our own food and other necessities,” retorted Natalie humorously.

The girls laughed, for truly the small store had amused them. New York stores were so different!

A mile further on, Mrs. James called to Miss Mason: “We are almost there now. It is the first house on the right-hand side of the road. You can see the towering trees of the front lawn from here.”

Instantly every pair of eyes looked eagerly down the road and saw the fine big trees mentioned by Mrs. James. In a few minutes more the car was near enough to permit everyone to glimpse the house.

“Jimmy was right! It is an old peach of a place!” declared Natalie delightedly, as she took in the picture at a glance.

“Oh!” exclaimed Miss Mason. “What a treasure, Natalie! Genuine old Colonial, Mrs. James. I shouldn’t wonder if it stood when Washington led his army across this land to reach Dobb’s Ferry. Even the old hand-made shingles are still siding the house.”

“Yes, I heard it was a Revolutionary relic that was as well preserved as any house around here. You see the fine old front entrance? With its half-moon window over the door and the hood for protection from storms? Even the old stoop and the two seats flanking the door, on each side, are the old ones.”

“Dear me! To think this gem has been Natalie’s right along, and no one knew of it!” cried Belle, who loved antiques and vowed she was going to be a collector some day.

“Not that alone, Belle, but think how Nat balked at coming here to spend this summer!” laughed Janet.

“Well, but – I hadn’t an idea of what it was like,” said Natalie apologetically.

“The Law that is the basis of all national laws, says ‘Ignorance of the Law is no excuse for a criminal,’” quoted Miss Mason, smiling at Natalie.

“But, now, once I’ve seen it, I will confess I like it,” Natalie admitted.

Miss Mason now drove the car through the gate which Norma had opened, and the automobile drew up to the side door where a long piazza ran the length of the wing. The moment the car stopped the girls sprang out in haste, to run about and see the place. But Natalie stood still on the lowest step of the piazza and gazed in at an open door.

“Someone’s here!” whispered she to her friends.

Before anyone could reply, a buxom form filled the doorway and a wide grin almost cleft Rachel’s face in half. She held out both hands to Natalie, and her expression signified a welcome to her “Honey-Chile.”

“Why! Rachie! How did you get here? I left you at home!” exclaimed Natalie, not certain whether it was flesh and blood she saw, or a phantom.

“Diden I come by a short cut, Honey, an’ wa’n’t it a good joke on you-all to beat you to dis fahm!” laughed Rachel, delighting in the mystery.

“Oh, now I know! It was Rachel who is our friend, eh?” shouted Natalie, clapping her hands.

“Shore! Mr. Marwin done brung me in his speeder by d’ Hudson Riber Turnpike. We turned offen d’ main road afore we come t’ Dobb’s Ferry. Jus’ d’ udder side f’om Yonkers. Dat’s how we come so quick,” explained Rachel.

“Where is he? I want to thank him, Rachel!” cried Natalie, gratitude uppermost in her thought just then.

“You won’t have far to go to find me,” laughed a genial voice, and everyone turned to see Mr. Marvin standing behind them.

Then followed a visit indoors, with Mr. Marvin acting as guide from attic to cellar, and his party stringing out behind. Some loitered in a room, and then ran to catch up with the main guard. Or some lingered to admire a view or interesting object in the house, and hurried after the others later, for fear of missing something worth while.

The main hall ran from front to rear of the house, cutting it in half. On one side of the wide hallway was a “front parlor,” and back of it the back-parlor, or “settin’-room,” as the farmers called it. Across the hall was the dining-room and pantry, and leading from the pantry was the kitchen. These rooms were so spacious that Janet laughingly remarked: “Our entire apartment would go in one room.”

“Look at the wonderful fireplaces!” exclaimed Belle.

“My! One can throw a log three feet long on the fire and not strike either side of the chimney,” added Frances.

“Girls! Just see the funny little cupboards built in on each side of the chimney-facing,” called Norma, opening one of the panels that fitted snugly to the bricks.

Everyone called attention to a different discovery. Janet laughed at the small wavy-glass window panes, that twisted the scene outdoors into grotesque views. Natalie marvelled at the great dark beams overhead that were not only hand-hewn from the timber, but also hand-planed. Mr. Marvin drew attention to the wooden pegs used in the corners of these beams, and the crude nails that a Colonial blacksmith had beaten into a form that could be used by the home-builder of the house.

“It is all so wonderful, Natalie, it seems like a dream!” exclaimed Miss Mason, delighted beyond words.

“Look at the heavy planks in the floors!” said Belle.

“Yes, even the wood in the floors is hand-sawn and smoothed down by hand and sandpaper. These floors will never wear out,” said Mr. Marvin.

“Such a room ought to have sand on the floor instead of carpet. Picture this old house furnished, attic to parlor, in strictly old-time style, low wooden beds, high-boys, clothes-presses, and patchwork quilts adorning the foot of the beds; in the front hall, a small stand to hold the hand-dipped candles and sticks; a few braided mats in the ‘company room’ and in the hall, but not in the other rooms; and sand, – glistening white sand, – sprinkled over these floors every few days, and then washed out when the dust demands it.”

As Miss Mason pictured the scene of the interior after the old Revolutionary period, everyone saw how lovely such a plan would be. When they followed Mr. Marvin up-stairs and saw the extensive view from the landing of the stairs, Mrs. James said: “Here we must have a seat, so one can sit and study the lovely, peaceful scene that stretches away over the hills.”

The second floor had been divided into six rooms, with ample closet space in each. A modern bathroom had been installed a few years before by the tenant who had agreed to make all improvements and repairs at his own expense.

“Why! These bedrooms have electric lights in them!” exclaimed Natalie, thus drawing attention to the drop-lights.

“I didn’t see any down-stairs,” said Mrs. James.

“Did anyone think to look for them?” asked Miss Mason.

“No, we were all trying to see your old homestead with hand-dipped candles. The light they gave us was so dim we had no way of seeing the electric lights,” laughed Natalie.

“I’m going down-stairs this minute, and assure myself if there are any,” declared Miss Mason.

“No one would have them up-stairs and not have them on the first floor,” said Mr. Marvin.

While the others went to the attic to revel in a real old-time spot, Miss Mason went down to the first-floor rooms to hunt for electricity. To her astonishment she found how cleverly the late tenant had arranged it. That he had a keen appreciation of the house was evident in many ways, but in none so plainly as in the lighting.

On top of each old-fashioned wooden mantel that crowned the fireplaces, at the end of each mantel-board shelf, Miss Mason found the plug for an electric fixture sunken on a level with the wood of the shelf. And on each side of the door opposite the fireplace, she found that the old-fashioned candlestick fixtures that had been admired as genuine Colonial bits, had been wired and were ready for a bulb. Also she discovered that a wall-plug was cleverly set in the high base-boards on either side of the room. From these one could run the wire for a table lamp, or a floor lamp, as preferred.

She hastened up-stairs to tell the others about it, but when she reached the second floor, such shouts of delight came from the attic, she could not resist the curiosity to go up.

“Miss Mason! Miss Mason!” shouted Natalie, the moment she saw the teacher’s head appear above the stairway. “Just see what we found!”

“The very old pieces that Natalie’s grandmother used!” added Belle, pulling Miss Mason across the floor.

“Isn’t it all like a fairy tale, Miss Mason?” laughed Janet, eagerly clasping her hands in her excitement.

Mrs. James and Mr. Marvin were dragging great heavy pieces of mahogany from under the eaves, and the several objects already brought to view were being dusted, duly examined and admired by the young girls.

Miss Mason saw one fine old high-boy and another old low-boy. The foot-boards of three mahogany beds were already out on the floor, and the two discoverers were working hard to pull out the other sections of the beds. Miss Mason immediately went to work to bring to light some old rush-bottomed chairs which were so covered with cobwebs and dust that one could scarcely see them under the dark eaves.

When lack of breath caused the three eager workers to desist and rest for a short time, an inventory was made. Natalie joyously called out the items while Mr. Marvin wrote them down.

“Two low-boys; three high-boys; one side-board; five dining-room chairs with haircloth covered seats; one round extension table; nine odd chairs with rush-bottoms; four wash-stands of mahogany, with basin-holes and under-shelf for ewer of water; four complete mahogany fourposter beds, with rope webbing for springs; one damaged four-poster bed; box of old candle-sticks, and snuffers, etc.”

“To think that this wonderful old collection of Colonial furniture was here all these years and the tenants never took them, or used them!” exclaimed Janet.

“That goes to show how honest they were,” added Norma.

“The finding of this old family furniture certainly is opportune,” remarked Mr. Marvin. “With these pieces as a start, you can add to the collection from time to time. I should advise you to keep only such pieces from the city home, Natalie, as will harmonize with old Colonial things. Also retain any intimate objects, but sell all the rest that is only suitable for New York apartments.”

As they all went down-stairs again, Miss Mason remembered the electric fixtures in the rooms on the first floor.

When she told of the admirable manner in which the wires had been run to bring out the best results, in keeping with the type of room, Mrs. James was surprised.

“I would never have thought a farmer had enough educated judgment to do it. It only proves how we mis-judge them by considering a farmer an ignorant individual who does nothing but grub on his farm.”

“Mos’ time you-all come down f’om dat garret. I done call an’ call, ’til my lungs bust open. My goodness! dat fine lunch mos’ spiled, now!” Rachel stood at the foot of the old stairs, glowering up at the delinquents who had never heard a sound from her while they were in the attic.

“Oh, Rachel! We found the loveliest things up in the attic! Just think, Rachie, my very own great-grandmother’s mahogany furniture was tucked away under the dark eaves, and Jimmy found it!” cried Natalie, catching hold of Rachel’s fat hands and shaking them excitedly.

“Is dat so, Honey?” gasped Rachel, forgetting all about the luncheon and the tardy guests.

“Uh-huh! And we are going to keep everything in the old house strictly Colonial, so it will look like a picture,” said Natalie, leading the way to the side verandah where the luncheon had been spread upon newspaper.

Everyone was hungry and Rachel’s viands were always tempting, so full justice was done the sandwiches and other good things provided. Rachel bustled about with importance, as she waited on her “chillun” and insisted upon Mr. Marvin having a third cup of tea. Had she but known the truth – he never took tea in the city, but dearly liked strong black coffee after a meal.

“Now you-all kin clar out and see th’ fahm whiles I do up the leavin’s f’om lunch. Run down an’ see d’ riber an’ what fine woods we got acrost d’ paster-lot. You’ll fin’ plenty to see an’ keep you busy ’til I finishes cleanin’ up,” said Rachel.

Miss Mason was intensely interested in the woods that formed a boundary of the property along the riverside for a long stretch. Mrs. James understood her interest, but no one else had been taken into the teacher’s confidence. She wished to see possibilities before she spoke of the Patrol of Girl Scouts who were looking for a camp-site.

However, she found everything so desirable that she soon engaged Mr. Marvin in a talk that ended with her having rented a section of woodland for the summer, at a nominal price. She was to give Natalie and her friends certain lessons in scouting and take them on the hikes with the Scouts when they all studied birds, beasts, and other Nature-lore, as part of the consideration.

It was past three o’clock before the inspectors were ready to start back home. Rachel had been sitting on the door-step of the spacious kitchen for a long time before she spied them coming across the fields from the stream.

“Ef you-all ’specks to get back home in time fer dinner, we’s got to get a hustle on, ’s all I say!” grumbled she.

“Hoh! Rachel wants to attend Meetin’ to-night, and she hates being late!” laughed Natalie teasingly.