Drift Off To Maida's Little House (Chapter 17 & 18)

Welcome back,

Drift Off listeners,

To another cozy evening on the podcast where I whisk you away to the land of dreams with sleepy tales.

I'm your host Joanne,

And tonight we continue our journey with Maeda as I read a few more chapters from Maeda's Little House,

The second book from the beloved Maeda series.

We will embark on a magical journey with Maeda and all of her friends,

Where they spend a happy summer together in a sweet little house in the country that has everything a child could wish for.

This book highlights themes of friendship,

Independence,

And the joy of simple pleasures in a young girl's journey towards health and happiness.

Now,

Go ahead and close your eyes.

Take a slow,

Deep,

Comfortable breath.

Hold it for a moment,

And exhale slowly.

Feel the tension melting away from your body as you prepare to drift off into a world of wonder and imagination.

And so,

My friend,

Lay back,

Relax,

And let the soothing narration lull you into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter 17 Crescent Moon Beach It was drawing near the middle of August,

And now with each sunrise,

The fun at the little house seemed to double itself.

I never saw such a place as this,

Rosie wailed once.

There aren't hours enough to do all the things you want to do every day,

And not days enough to do all you want to do every week.

There was some justice in Rosie's complaint.

The day's program of swimming,

Tennis,

Croquet,

Bicycling,

Reading,

And games had been broken into by the coming of the berry season.

Blueberries and blackberries were thick in the vicinity,

And the children enjoyed enormously eating the fruit they had gathered.

Florabelle taught the little girls how to make blueberry cake and blackberry grunt,

And on their teacher's day out,

The little house was sure to have one of these delicacies for luncheon and another for dinner.

The big six tried to do everything,

Of course,

And as Laura complained,

They succeeded in doing everything badly and no one thing very well.

One day,

Meda appeared at the table with a radiant look of one who had spawned an idea.

Granny,

She said,

We haven't had a picnic on the beach yet.

Every summer we go to the beach once at least.

Can't we go this week on Florabelle's day out?

We girls will cook the luncheon and pack it all up nicely.

But the beach is pretty far away,

Mrs.

Dorr said warily.

How far is it?

Could you walk to it?

It's between four and five miles,

Meda answered hazily.

You see,

The little children could go in the motor,

And the rest of us,

The big six,

Could go on our bicycles.

But I don't think,

Mrs.

Dorr said,

That I'd like your children to go so far away without a grown person with you.

Yes,

Of course,

Meda said,

You and Granny come too.

But with Zeke and Florabelle away,

Mrs.

Dorr protested,

Who would drive the automobile?

Meda's face fell.

Oh,

She exclaimed,

I never thought of that.

All the faces about the table.

They had grown bright in anticipation of this new excursion,

Grew dark.

Zeke had already taught Arthur and Harold to run the machine,

But Mr.

Westerbrook's orders against unlicensed persons driving it were strict.

For a moment,

It looked as though the ocean picnic must be given up.

I think,

Meda faltered.

If I asked my father to lend us bodkins and the big car,

He'd do it.

Mrs.

Dorr shook her head.

I wouldn't like you to have to do that,

Meda,

She said.

Your father has given us everything that he thinks necessary for this household,

She added gratefully,

And more than any of us had ever had in our lives before.

I should certainly not like you to ask a single thing more of him.

Again,

Gloom descended on the big six,

And then hope showed her bright face again.

I'll tell you what I'll do,

Floribel,

Who was waiting on table,

Broke in.

Zeke and I have wanted for a long time to see the big ocean.

Now if you let the little children go do a picnic,

Mrs.

Dorr,

Zeke and I will go with them and take the best care of them.

Oh,

Would you,

Floribel,

Rosie asked.

Well,

In that case,

Mrs.

Dorr decided thoughtfully,

I don't see why you shouldn't all go.

Madness at once broke out in both sixes,

Little and big.

Laura,

Meda,

And Rosie leaped to their feet and danced about the room.

The little children beat on the table with their spoons,

And the three boys indulged in ear-splitting whistles.

The next Thursday,

Floribel,

Zeke,

The little six,

And the lunch packed somehow into the machine.

The big six on their bicycles,

Streaming ahead like couriers,

Started off for the beach.

Thank goodness we've remembered the salt this time,

Rosie said to Arthur as they mounted their wheels.

I took care of that myself.

It was a beautiful day,

Cool as it was sunny,

Brisk as it was warm.

The winding road led through South Setchewit and then over a long stretch of scrub pine country straight to the beach.

Just as they emerged from the Westerbrook estate into South Setchewit,

Meda's bicycle made a sudden swerve.

Why,

I just saw Sylvia Burrell,

She called in a whisper to Rosie.

She was walking along the trail towards the little house.

I wonder what she's doing there.

Well,

You may be very sure she isn't calling on us,

Rosie declared,

And if she is,

I'm delighted to think that Granny will say not at home.

Still,

Meda said thoughtfully,

That trail leads directly to the little house.

She must be going there for some reason.

Probably,

Laura remarked scornfully.

She's hoping she'll meet some of us,

So she can make faces at us.

The automobile arrived at the beach first,

And the cyclists came straggling in one after another.

Crescent Moon Beach was like a deeply cut silver crescent,

Furred at each tip of the crescent with a tight grove of scrub pines which grew down to the very water's edge.

Beyond it,

Except for a single island,

Stretched unbroken the vast heaving blue of the Atlantic.

Under the lee of the southern tip of the crescent was a line of half a dozen bathhouses.

What a wonderful,

Wonderful beach,

Laura commented.

And there's that island,

Dickie said.

How I wish I could swim out to it.

I have never been on an island in my life.

Could you swim as far as that,

Arthur?

Arthur laughed.

I should say not.

Nobody but a professional could do that,

And perhaps he'd find it simple.

It's much longer than it looks,

Dickie.

Distances on the water are very deceiving.

What's on the island,

Meda,

Dickie went on curiously.

Have you ever been there?

Oh yes,

Meda answered,

Once.

I went on father's yacht,

But I was such a little girl that I have only one impression of great trees and enormous rocks and thick underbrush.

Dickie sighed.

I wish we could go on a picnic there.

What's that over there?

Harold demanded,

Pointing to a spot far out where a series of poles connected by webs of fishnet rose above the water's surface.

Oh,

That's a fishweir,

Meda declared electrically.

I'd forgotten all about that.

You see,

The tide's going out.

It goes out almost two miles here,

And if we follow it up,

We can get into the weir and come back before the tide overtakes us.

Meda explained the situation to Florabelle.

Florabelle turned to Zeke for advice.

Zeke corroborated Meda's story.

He had,

He said,

Been in the weir several times himself.

Florabelle said she would stay on the beach with the little six,

While Zeke accompanied the big six.

When they came back,

She added,

Lunch would be all spread out on the beach.

The last bathhouse,

Meda informed them,

Is ours.

Now let's get into our bathing suits at once,

Because we have no time to lose.

It was only partially low tide when they arrived,

But it almost seemed to the children that they could see the water slipping away towards the horizon.

When they emerged from the bathhouse,

A patch of eelgrass,

Not far off,

Made a brilliant green spot in the midst of the golden sand.

As the big six started towards the fishweir,

The little six were splashing about in the warm shallows near shore.

Oh,

What fun this is,

Rosie said.

I love saltwater bathing,

More than freshwater.

I don't know why,

But somehow I always feel so much gayer.

The saltwater seemed to have an effect of gayety on all of them.

They chattered incessantly,

When they were not laughing or singing.

At times they came to hollows between the sandbars,

Where the water was waist high,

But in the main,

The water came no farther than their knees,

And it continued to recede steadily before them.

Sandbar after sandbar bared itself to the light of the sun,

Stretched before them in ridges of solid gold.

Eelgrass,

Patch after patch,

Lifted above the water,

Spread around them areas of brilliant green.

Above,

White clouds and blue ether wove a radiant sky ceiling,

And between,

The gulls swooped and soared,

Circled and dashed,

Emitting their strange creaking cries.

It seemed an hour at least to the big six before they reached the weir,

But in fact,

It had taken little more than half that time.

Zeke found the entrance to the weir and they followed him in.

Here the water was waist deep.

Zeke explained the plan of the weir.

It was,

He pointed out,

Nothing but a deep sea trap for fish.

The fish entered through the narrow opening into a channel which led into the big inner maze.

Although it was very easy for them to float in,

It was a very difficult matter finding the way out.

Caught there,

As the tide retreated,

They stayed until the fisherman arrived with his cart and shoveled them shamefully into it.

Oh,

Oh,

Laura shrieked suddenly,

This place is full of fish,

One just passed me,

Oh,

There's another,

And another.

But by this time,

Both the girls were jumping and screaming with their excitement,

For fish were darting about them everywhere.

The boys,

Not at all nervous of course,

And very much excited,

Were trying to drive the fish into corners to find out what they were.

Zeke identified them easily enough.

Cod,

Sculpins,

Flounders,

And perch.

What's that big thing,

Arthur exclaimed suddenly.

Jiminy crickets,

He called excitedly.

It's the biggest turtle I ever laid my eyes on.

The girls shrieked and stayed exactly where they were,

Clinging together,

But the males all ran in Arthur's direction.

That's some turtle,

Commented Zeke.

I'm going to take it home,

Arthur declared,

And put it in the magic mirror.

The magic mirror,

Laura echoed,

Why I would never dare go in swimming if I knew that huge thing was there.

We'll keep it tied up with a rope,

Arthur went on excitedly.

We can't get where we're going swimming because the rope won't be long enough.

Come on,

Fellows,

Help me get it.

How are you going to catch it,

Harold demanded.

Lasso it,

Arthur declared,

Untying a stout rope which hung from one end of their weir posts.

The prospect of catching such big game was too tempting for the males of the party.

And so while the girls dashed madly about,

Trying to get out of their reach,

Screaming with excitement and holding on to each other for protection,

But really enjoying the situation very much,

The boys chased the turtle from corner to corner until finally Arthur managed to lasso a leathery paw and tie it captive to a weir post.

How he did this,

He himself found it hard to say,

Because the water was lashed to a miniature fury by the flounderings of both the turtle and its captors.

It was probably pure accident,

He was humble enough to assert,

But having caught the creature,

They were not content until they had brought him ashore,

And so the procession started beachwards,

Arthur pulling the turtle at the end of the rope.

It was a huge turtle,

At least two feet in diameter.

It had wide,

Leathery flappers,

A wicked-looking head as big,

Rosie said,

As her alarm clock,

But its shell was beautifully marked.

As they approached the beach,

They could see the great square of the tablecloth laid out on the sand,

And Florabelle busy piling up sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs,

Fruit and cake.

The little six came running to meet them,

And then it became a problem to keep them out of the way of the turtle's snapping jaws.

They had no difficulty,

However,

With Florabelle,

Who screamed with terror at the sight of the creature,

And would not allow them to bring it onto the beach.

They ended by mooring it by means of a large rock in one of the pools near the shore.

Then,

Forgetting their prey for a while,

They sat down to lunch.

They were ready to do full justice to it.

Lordy,

Florabelle exclaimed once,

You're sure enough here for an army,

Who put all that salt in the basket?

The three girls burst into giggles.

I was sure we'd forget the salt,

Meda said,

That I put in a pair of salt cellars.

I put in three,

Declared Rosie,

And I put in four,

Confessed Laura.

After lunch,

Following the orders which Mrs.

Dorr had given them,

They sat on the beach for an hour before they went in bathing again.

This prolonged itself much more than an hour,

Because they began making the inevitable collections of shells and stones to take home.

Florabelle said the moonstones were sometimes found on this beach,

And there instantly began a frantic search for the small,

Translucent white stones.

Of course,

Everybody found several of what he supposed were invaluable gems.

By this time,

The tide,

Which had turned just as they left the fishweir,

Was now galloping up on the beach in great waves.

They had to pull the turtle farther and farther inshore.

At length,

They all went in bathing again,

The big six driving through the waves and occasionally getting boiled,

Which was a local term for being whirled about for their pains.

Florabelle permitted the little six to play only in the rush of the waves after they broke.

After five o'clock,

Blissfully tired,

Excitedly happy,

They piled the little children into the machine,

Hacked the turtle in the big lunch hamper,

Tied the cover securely over him,

And started home.

Wild with excitement and the news of their find,

They dashed into the little house.

Oh,

Granny,

You'll never guess what we brought home with us,

Mina exclaimed.

And oh,

What a wonderful day we've had,

Rosie added.

And how tired we are,

And how hungry,

Laura concluded.

The little children were all chattering with excitement.

The boys were attending to the turtle in the barn.

I'm glad you've had a good time,

Children,

Granny said gravely.

Your father's here,

Meda,

And he wants to see you all in the living room.

Something seemed to have gone out of the gaiety of the day.

What it was,

Or what made it go,

Or where it went,

Meda could not guess.

Perhaps it was a quality in Granny's air and words.

At any rate,

She said instantly,

I'm going right in there,

Granny.

And Rosie,

Will you please tell the boys to come at once?

Rosie,

Too,

Had caught an infection of the seriousness.

She sped to the barn.

In three minutes,

The big six had gathered in the living room.

Mr.

Westerbrook was sitting on the couch in front of the fire.

Good afternoon,

Children,

He said quietly.

I told Granny to ask you to come here the instant you came home,

Because I had something to say to you.

It occurred to me today that I would come over to the little house when you didn't expect me and make an inspection.

Hitherto,

I have come regularly every Sunday.

This is Thursday.

I'm glad I did,

Because I found that neither the flower garden nor the vegetable garden had been weeded for the last three days.

The barn was in very disorderly confusion.

I asked Granny how the girls had left their rooms,

And although she didn't want to tell me,

She had to say that beds were not made.

Apparently,

Nothing had been done.

But the worst thing of all that I have to say is that I find that the tennis court is all kicked up,

As though it had been played on after a shower without having first been rolled.

There was an instant of silence in the room,

A silence so great that everybody could hear quite plainly the ticking of the grandfather's clock.

Arthur spoke first.

Mr.

Westerbrook,

He said in a low voice.

We ought to be ashamed of ourselves,

And I certainly am.

After all your kindness to us,

I won't try to make any excuses,

Because there are no excuses we can make.

It's all my fault,

Harold admitted.

I'm supposed to run the boys' end of the work,

And I have not held them up to keeping everything right.

It isn't your fault,

Dickie declared hotly.

No more than mine or Arthur's.

We're all to blame.

I'm awfully ashamed of myself,

Mr.

Westerbrook,

Rosie confessed almost in a whisper.

I wouldn't blame you if you never forgave us,

But I hope you will.

I don't know how we got this way,

Laura said in perplexity.

We began right.

We've been having such a good time,

Maeda explained in a grave tone,

That we've just let ourselves get careless.

Then Mr.

Westerbrook advised them,

Rising.

Try not to let yourselves get careless again.

He shook hands all around and kissed his daughter.

Fair warning,

He said.

I don't know when I'm coming again,

But it won't be when you expect me.

It was a very subdued and a very tired little trio of girls who went upstairs and attended to their rooms.

It was an even more subdued,

Though a less tired,

Trio of boys who put the barn in order and then,

Trailing the turtle at the end of his rope,

Walked down to the magic mirror and tied him to a tree and deposited him in the water there for the night.

CHAPTER 18 EXPIATION A very quiet group of children gathered at breakfast the next morning.

Conversation was intermittent and devoted mainly to piling offers of assistance in the housework on Granny and Mrs.

Dorr.

When you have finished your own work,

We'll see.

Mrs.

Dorr steadily answered all these suggestions.

The children finished their work in record time and with the utmost care.

The girls swept and dusted their chambers.

They washed their furniture,

The paint and the windows.

Everything was taken out of closets and bureau drawers,

Shaken and carefully put back.

They shook rugs.

The boys,

In a frenzy of emulation,

Followed a program equally detailed.

Having accomplished all this,

The big six again begged for more work and Granny and Mrs.

Dorr,

Taking pity on the penitent little sinners,

Thought up all kinds of odd jobs for them to perform.

At length,

Meda said,

Now we've done all the work we can do.

There's one other thing I'd like to see attended to.

I woke up in the middle of the night.

I don't know what woke me,

But I began at once to think of that turtle.

That poor,

Horrid turtle.

And it suddenly came into my head that it was a very cruel thing to put a creature in fresh water who was accustomed to salt water.

I suppose it'll kill him in time,

Won't it?

She appealed to Arthur.

Gee,

Willikens,

Arthur answered.

I never thought of that.

Of course he'll die.

But what are we going to do about it?

I thought,

Meda began very falteringly,

If you let us,

Granny,

We'd ask Zeke to drive us over to the beach and we'd take the turtle and put him back in the water where he came from.

We won't stay there but a moment.

I don't see why you shouldn't do that,

Mrs.

Dorr accorded them thoughtfully.

And as for me,

I'll be glad to be well rid of that creature,

Granny said shudderingly.

So it was settled.

After luncheon,

The three boys went down to the magic mirror,

Hauled the poor,

Awkward beast out of the water,

Pulled it along the trail to the barn.

They loaded it into the lunch hamper again,

Stowed it in the automobile,

And then Zeke drove them to the beach.

Once there,

They lifted the hamper out of the machine,

Removed the cover,

And dumped its living contents onto the sand.

There was no question as to the turtle's wishes in this matter.

Without an instant's hesitation,

He turned in the direction of the ocean.

And lumbered toward it over the sand.

Lumbered awkwardly,

But with a surprising swiftness.

The waves were piling in,

Like great ridges of melted glass,

Green edged with shining opalescent filigree.

The turtle struck the broken wave,

Swam into it,

Dove through the next wave,

And the next,

And the next.

Suddenly,

They lost sight of him.

When they returned,

Still unnaturally quiet,

To the little house,

To their great surprise,

Billy Potter came forward to meet them.

Their subdued spirits took an involuntary jump.

Nevertheless,

They greeted their guest in an unusually quiet way.

Billy's perceptions,

Always keen,

Apparently leaped in an instant of calculation to the truth.

After a while,

In which he devoted himself to the little six,

He suggested that the big six take a walk with him.

They accepted the invitation,

And plunged into the woods.

When they were out of sight of the little house,

Now,

What's the matter?

Billy Potter suddenly demanded.

They told him,

All at once,

Each interrupting the other,

Piling on excuses and explanations,

Interrupted with confessions and self-accusals.

We feel that we've treated Mr.

Westerbrook rottenly,

Arthur concluded,

And we don't know what to do to show him we're sorry,

Rosie,

After a pause,

Added.

That's pretty bad,

Billy commented.

Now,

Let's think of some way out of this.

He himself meditated for an interval,

Falling into a study so deep,

That no one of the children dared interrupt it.

I'll tell you,

He burst out after a while.

Why not invite Mr.

Westerbrook down for an afternoon,

To make an inspection of the house,

And to stay for supper?

You probably haven't shown him for a long time how well you can cook.

No,

We haven't,

Amita said.

I think father has eaten only one meal that we girls cooked.

I think that would be lovely,

Rosie agreed.

Let's do it as quickly as possible,

Arthur suggested.

This is Friday morning,

Why don't you invite him for Monday night?

The children caught the suggestion at once.

That night,

Working together,

For Billy Potter stayed over only one train,

They painfully drafted a formal invitation to Mr.

Westerbrook,

To spend Monday afternoon with them,

And stay to supper.

They posted it the next morning,

And almost by return mail,

They received a formal acceptance.

Monday was a day of the most frantic work that the little house had ever seen.

Everything was swept that could be swept,

Dusted that could be dusted,

Washed that could be washed,

Polished that could be polished.

Rosie even washed off the stepping stones that led to the little house,

And Amita,

Not to be outdone,

Shined the brass knocker on the door and the knob.

Laura was only stopped in time from pinning flypaper,

Which she had bought with her own pocket money on the outside of the screen door.

There are no flies in the house,

Mrs.

Dorr protested,

And we can't catch all the flies in the outside world.

The boys cleaned the barn,

The little cellar to the house,

Its tiny garret.

They rolled and re-rolled the tennis court.

They begged for other work,

And Mrs.

Dorr gave them all the table silver to polish and some pots,

Obstinately black,

To scrape.

When Mr.

Westerbrook came,

The place looked,

As he said,

As though they had cleaned the outside with manicure tools and the inside with the aid of a microscope.

The supper,

Which,

In deference to Mr.

Westerbrook,

Included a single hot dish,

Consisted of one of Rosie's delicious chowders,

One of Maida's delicious blueberry cakes,

One of Laura's delicious salads,

And a freezer full of the boys' delicious ice cream.

Mr.

Westerbrook said that he had eaten meals all over the United States and in nearly every country in Europe,

And he could not recall any one that he enjoyed more than this.

That night,

The big six went to bed with clear consciences.

Sweet dreams,

My friend.

Sleep well.