Democratic Sentinel, Volume 13, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 January 1890 — OUR PLAN DIDN’T WORK [ARTICLE]

OUR PLAN DIDN’T WORK

BY MOLLIE RICHARDS.

Mr. and Mrs. Jones were humble people, in moderate circumstances, and lived upon a small farm. They had but one child, a daughter, who was always called Sissy. Sissy was about my age, and I was about six years old, when “Father” Jones adopted me into his family. When I was about eight years of age a relative of Mr. Jones died. To attend the funeral was a big day’s journey for his slow horse. They did not like to leave us with the sole care of the place on the day of the funeral, yet they seemed to think of no way to prevent it. So, for that entire day we were left in charge of everything. They kept one horse, two cows, a pig or two, and a great deal of poultry. It was my work from the start, mine and Sissy’s, to do what we could for the cattle and poultry, and we quarreled not a little over the work. We shared alike sport as well as work, and were much together. Sometimes Sissy exercised authority over me, claiming her lights as lawful possessor. This her parents would not permit when they knew of it. The work assigned for us to do was to water the cows at noon, at night put them in their stable, feed the poultry, and, if they returned late, provide wood and coal and kindling. I can see yet how Mother Jones looked when she started. She was dressed in plain, old-fashioned garb, and her eyes had a peculiar, wistful expression. She cautioned us over and over not to turn things topsy-turvy, not to leave the house alone, or make fires, as none was needed. Mrs. Jones was a very careful housekeeper. Our dinner was spread on the kitchen table and neatly covered with a spotless linen cloth. After she had closed the kitchen door she passionately embraced both Sissy and I, as if she never expected to see us alive again. Then she slowly walked to the old square-top carriage and reluctantly climbed into it. Father Jones looked worried as he stepped in after her and drove slowly away. We had previously planned our sport and were very impatient, so we thought that they would never get started. Next to the yard was a small field; below this field was a large apple orchard, in which we were raising a calf. This calf was very tame. Sissy and I had made a pet of it, and had quarreled not a little in selecting a name. Finally, we decided on DaisyDingle, that each might have an individual claim upon the name. I had often told Sissy that I thought if we could get the chance we might ride upon Daisy-Dingle’s back. When we discovered that we were to have this Sunday to ourselves we at once decided that this would be a golden opportunity. We planned onr ride with many fears, lest it might be rainy, or perhaps we might be seen and have our doings reported. The weather proved to be all that we could desire. As soon as Mr. Jones drove off Sissy and I skipped up stairs, for it had been decided that Sissy must have a sidesaddle, and she had things in readiness to make one. First, she produced two of her mother’s dresses, which were slightly worn; then, with a big husk needle anil twine, we fashioned a saddle; the sleeves served for stirrups. Our nearest neighbors had gone to church and their house was closed, as was nearly every house in the neighborhood. The coast was clear. Daisy-Dingle being a pet, did not object to the saddle. I insisted that Sissy should have the first ride. She had no trouble getting on, but her weight, together with fixing her feet in the stirrups, scared Daisy-Dingle, who started at a full gallop before we were ready. Sissy, having no hold, fell off, her feet entangled in the stirrups. The saddle had been securely fastened to the calf’s back, and Sissy was dragged a considerable distance. I was badly scared. Sissy was stunned and semi-con-scious for a time, but with the exception of a few slight scratches, the worst in her face, she escaped uninjured. •The lower portion of the orchard was low and swampy; through this Sissy had been dragged. Her dress was a sight to behold. It being Sunday, she was permitted to wear one too fine for our occupation; besides being torn.it wa-t brown and green-stained from mud and grass. After the fright, finding Sissy not badly injured, and being plucky, she

urged me to take a ride. Beeng a boy, ] I thought I could mauage better, t j got on and met with the same success, only that I was not dragged when S fell off, for the saddle had been aban- j doned. Poor Daisv-Dingle did not know what to make of such treatment. She j became wild. We were now determined to have a j ride l>oth together. How to get her to stand still long enough for us to mount j upon her back was the question. As j we found it impossible to do this, we became enraged and took turns in beating and racing the poor calf many times around the orchard and over Mother Jones’ dresses. Finally Daisv-Dingle became exhausted. It was dinner time, and we were hungry. So we concluded that ii we stopped to eat, perhaps by the time we came back Daisy-Dingle might permit us to take a ride. Hastening to the house, we were hardly courageous enough to enter. We bad neglected to fasten doors or windows. Our appetites got the better of us, and we cautiously entered. Fortunately nothing had been disturbed. While eating we quarreled over a certain piece of pie. Pie and plate were broken and trampled upon the kitchen carpet. We were coming to a “fist fight,” when Sissy remembered that there was another pie of the kind in the cellar. She brought it, and we devoured the most of it in peace. While eating the pie we resolved upon a new plau. In our eagerness to try it we forgot our noon work, and again leaviag the house went to the orchard. Poor Daisy-Dingle! It was a rather warm day in July, and at noon the heat was oppressive for a poor worried calf. Our plan did not work. DaisyDingle would not stand, so we gave her more exercise until at last she was conquered. Just as Sissy had taken her place astride the calf’s back our neighbor, who had returned from church, and who had been watching us unobserved, came along, interfered, and we were obliged to abandon our sport. We were mortified and worried to think we had been discovered, and thus made liable to exposure as well as punishment. We ran into the barn to hide, each blaming the other for what had been done. Soon tiring of this, we looked about to see what next we could do unobserved. Mr. Jones made cider for vinegar. He kept barrels of it in his barn. There were three barrels that Sissy and I had often thought might still be fit to drink, but how to get some had always been a puzzle. We thought this an excellent opportunity for tasling it. The bungs were tight in each barrel, and we saw no possible way to get them out; but instead of spigots there were plugs that we thought might be easily knocked out. I gave one hard hit and the cider, or rather vinegar, came suddenly spurting over both of us in a stream, and we were thoroughly drenched. We had planned to drink with straws, but did not even taste it. for we made an effort to replace the plug. As it finally ceased flowing we concluded that we were successful in stopping it. We tried the second and third barrels with almost the same result. Next we hunted eggs. These we took to the kitchen, made a coal fire, filled the tea-kettle with eggs and water, put it over the fire, and closed the stove. "While waiting for the eggs to boil we remembered our work. As it was getting late we dropped everything, and, leaving the door wide open, proceeded to water cattle. In the midst of this Mr. and Mrs. Jones returned. They had been very anxious about us, and came back much earlier than was anticipated. When Mother Jones caught sight ol us she screamed, but when she reached the kitchen door and saw at one glance the hot stove and a hungry tramp feasting upon the remains ol our dinner, she gave one piercing shriek and fainted away, which sc scared the tramp that he fled. The kettle had boiled dry and was emitting a strange odor. The stove was hot enough to burst, and the carpet was irreparably spoiled. Mrs. Jones was sick all night from fright. The next morning Daisy-Dingle was found dead. Our neighbor came to tell of oui doings in the orchard, just at the moment. Mr. Jones discovered, by the smell of vinegar, what had happened to his barrels. Mrs. Jones about this time discovered the eggs and the ruined condition of the tea-kettle. She could not find the dress she had wished to wear that day, nor could she for a long time get over the loss of two, or the ruined condition of our clothes,besides everything else. They wisely concluded to never leave us alone again. Both were too indulgent to punish us severely, so we got off with a mild reprimand. They blamed themselves for not getting an older person to take charge of us. Years have passed. Both Ml and Mrs. Jones are dead. Sissy and I are married. From this we learned a good moral, and it serves us well in onr own family of little ones. It is this: Never leave children alone with the care of a house. A thrifty Ohio girl sold a batch of old love letters to ragman last week. She realized thirty cents, which, she declares, is a good deal more than they were worthy •