Next Part The Shoemaker's Daughters CHAPTER 7+1
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"I shall go crazy!" exclaimed Ike, bounding into the garret, on the same night, and turning three or four somersaults on and off his bed. "I've seen enough to last me for a year! ha! ha! ha! whoop! Hold me, Tom, or I shall die!"
"You're crazy, already, I believe! But what is the matter, Ike? Come, out with it!" said Tom.
"Give me half an hour to breathe in, Tom."
"Nonsense! What is in the wind?"
"I'm afraid it will kill me!" exclaimed Ike, again giving way to a new explosion of laughter, and rolling from side to side of the bed upon which he had thrown himself.
"Don't be a fool, Ike!" broke in Bill, impatiently. "Let us hear what all this is about."
"Well, I'll try and tell you," said Ike, rising up, and endeavoring to command himself; "but you must let me laugh every now and then, or I shall burst. I went to the museum tonight, and lo! and behold! our beauties downstairs were there, all dressed up to kill, with a couple of counter-jumpers dangling at their elbows. Didn't they cut a swathe, though! They couldn't see me, no how. But there was somebody else there, too; and who do you think it was? Why, Anne Webster, with her sweet face, looking more beautiful than ever; and she was hanging on the arm of Mr. Marshall, who was all attention to her."
"You must be joking, Ike," said Tom, incredulously.
"No, I'm not, though. I'm in dead earnest!"
"And did our beauties see them?"
"See them? Of course they did!"
"And how did they take it? Do say, Ike?"
"Just wait a bit, till I get that far, will you? And there was somebody else along with them, too — Mrs. Flathers, the rich lady that she lives with; and she would lean forward towards Anne, every now and then, so kind, and look her in the face when she was speaking, with an expression that said, as plain as words — 'But you are a dear good girl, Anne, and I love you!'"
"The devil!" ejaculated Bill.
"It's all as true as death, boys! And that isn't all! Mrs. Flathers, you know, is tip-top here; and she would every now and then introduce Anne to some lady or gentleman, as much above our girls as the sun is above the moon; and they would treat her so polite, and seem so glad to make her acquaintance."
"O, but that is good!" exclaimed Tom.
"If you'd only seen the accomplished Mrs. Ashton," continued Ike, "draw her arm through Anne's, and walk about the museum with her, showing her all the pretty things, and then have seen how struck down in the mouth Gertrude was, and how mad Genevra looked — it would have been something to remember as long as you lived. I wouldn't have begrudged five dollars to have seen the show."
"I never saw any body so bewildered," continued Ike. "They were all down in the mouth. And wasn't I glad to see it!"
"Did Anne see you?" asked Tom.
"Once, but I kept out of her way."
"Did she speak to you?" said Bill.
"I wasn't very near; but when she saw me, she nodded her head, and smiled so sweetly. It wasn't a sneaking nod and a stolen smile. All was earnest, and above board."
"It's the best thing that has ever happened!" said Tom. "Anne's found her level at last, and I would like to know how many miles it is above the platform upon which our young beauties here stand."
"It's so high that they'll never reach it; that's certain," said Bill.
So excited were the boys, that they sat up after one o'clock, talking over the matter. About this time, they were attracted by a sudden burst of music in the street.
"Somebody's serenading our girls, as sure as I'm alive," said Ike, jumping up, and going to the window.
"It seems that all the fools aren't dead yet," quietly remarked Tom, rising more slowly, and taking his station alongside of Ike.
"It's as free for us as anybody, that's one consolation," added Bill, crowding in between his two worthy associates.
"That's too good music for them," said Ike, after they had all listened, in silence, to a well played tune on three or four instruments, "too good by half! I could do the business in the right style for them."
"You? Why, you can't play!" said Bill. "Can't I?" responded Ike. You've forgotten the sweet music I played for them one night on the lap-stone."
"True! true! I had forgotten that," said Bill. "Suppose, Ike, we give them a sample one of these dark nights. We could do it, couldn't we?"
"To a charm!" replied Ike, slapping the last speaker upon the shoulder. "That's a grand idea, Bill! Why didn't we think of it before?"
"What instrument can you play on, Ike?" asked Bill.
"Me? Why, I'm hard to beat with the brush and scraper. I used to practice with the chimney-sweeps when I was only knee-high to a duck. I got so I could play almost any tune. Dick, up the alley, will lend me his instruments; and then I'll do my part in all sorts of style. But what can you play on, Bill?"
"I've no particular skill in this way; but I think I could manage to do a little on the old saw with a good new file."
"Capital! But what are you worth, Tom? — are you at all musical?"
In answer to this, the garret was filled with the gruntings of a hog, and the squeaking of pigs in swinish accompaniment.
"You see I can do a little in the performance," remarked Tom, quietly, as the discordant, ear-piercing noise subsided.
"So I would think. You shall lead the orchestra, Tom. But three of us won't make a full band. How shall we fill the vacancies? We want at least double our number."
"Leave that to me," said Bill. I am acquainted with several amateurs, who will cheerfully lend us their valuable aid. For instance: there is Tom Dunn, who is quite categorical, as they say; and, Sandy Patterson, who, as a living trombone, is superior to anything I ever heard. John Neal is a dabster on the conch; and, if others are wanted, I can count three or four more."
"The fuller the band, the better," responded Ike.
"If a good large bull-dog would add anything to the harmony of the music, Sam Miller can bark to any tune."
"Prime! now, isn't it?" said Ike, warmly. "When shall we do the thing?"
"The sooner the better," replied Tom.
"Let it be some dark night, about one o'clock, then," said Ike.
"Agreed!" responded the two associates. The serenade being arranged, the boys retired to bed; but it was a long time before their senses were locked in sleep, for their minds were too actively occupied with their intended exhibition of musical skill.
In about a week, they had everything ready to begin. The night was dark and cloudy, and in every way favorable for the new serenade. They had found four boys, besides themselves, as ripe for fun and frolic as they were. To avoid suspicion, our three chaps went upstairs, talking loud enough to be heard, at ten o'clock, the usual hour of retiring. In the garret they made a clatter of shoes, etc., and then threw themselves upon the beds, and rolled about there, that the noise of the rickety bedsteads might be distinctly heard below. It was twelve before they thought it safe to descend from their attic, which was accomplished in a way peculiar to themselves. A long back building was connected with the main building, and from this they could descend to a lower range, connecting with the house below; and from this, again, to a high wall, shutting in the yard of that house from an alley that ran immediately in the rear. In this way they could readily get out and in, without any suspicion being excited in the family, and in this way the three companions in mischief escaped from the house on the evening in question.
Joining their four associates, all armed with their several instruments of music, they held a consultation, and after arranging all preliminaries, and being certain, from his warning cry to all rogues and mischief-plotters, that the watchman was making the best of his way to the other end of his ward, and would not pass there again for the next hour, they stole quietly around in front, and arranged themselves before the house. It was by this time nearly one o'clock, and as it was a very dark and cloudy night, there were no people in the street.
"One at a time, to prepare for the full chorus of instruments," said Ike. "Strike up, Tom!"
Instantly the air was filled with a combination of grunting and squeaking, that seemed to come from half a dozen alarmed swinish mothers, and their hungry offspring. Then came half a dozen musical sounds from Ike's brush and scraper, clear and distinct.
"Now, Bill," said the leader.
And Bill's saw and file set every dog's teeth in the whole neighborhood on edge, and woke them up just enough to answer promptly Sam Miller's real bull-dog bark, that was responded to by Tom Dunn in a caterwaul, that seemed like the dying confession of some old roof-scrambler.
This was followed by three or four blasts from John Neal's conch shell. Bill's new-fangled violin, as he called it, startled every sleeper in the house, and before the final blast on the conch, preparatory to the full chorus, several windows were thrown open, and half a dozen old and young Hardamers were straining their eyes into the darkness.
"Now give it to them, free and easy, boys!" said Ike; and away they went, making a most diabolical combination of sounds. Clear and distinct above the whole, and at regular intervals, would come in the trombone, always accompanied with the deep-toned bull-dog bark, and winding off with a most ear-piercing feline scream. Steadily, and with a most unmusical, nerve-chilling screech, did Bill work away upon his old saw, but by all his efforts he could not drown the ringing noise of Ike's brush and scraper. For fully ten minutes, they continued their serenade, without a moment's cessation. At the end of that time, Hardamer sallied out of his front door, armed with an old musket. This apparition brought on the finale, and then there was a separation, in different ways, of the whole band of serenaders, who scampered off in double quick time.
Hurrying around the square, and up the alley, as fast as they could, our three young rebels scrambled up the roofs of the different houses, in their way to their garret, and made an entrance there in three minutes from the time Hardamer had dispersed the band. Rapidly disrobing themselves, they beat a quick retreat to bed, and were, to all appearances, sound asleep, when their master, whose suspicions had been aroused, came up into the garret. His finding them all stowed snugly away, puzzled him a good deal, but their presence there was conclusive of their innocence, and so he withdrew without a word.
"Old Hardamer was just too late," whispered Ike.
"We've made a narrow escape, I'm thinking," said Tom.
"Shouldn't we have had a broil, though, if old Hardamer had gotten here before us!" added Bill. "He'd never forgiven that. But I wonder how the Misses Hardamer were pleased. I hope they didn't faint under the operation."
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