Trudy and Timothy

Introduction

Dear Boys and Girls :

Once I heard a boy say, very scornfully, “ Oh, I wouldn't live in the country ! It's a stupid place — nothing to do there ! ” and it made me very cross to hear him. But afterward I learned that all he knew about the country was whizzing over the roads in a big automobile, and he went through the villages and by the farmhouses so fast that he could not see what the people were doing — so how could he know anything about it?

Now really to know what fun you can have in the country, a boy or a girl must have three things to use — hands and feet and eyes — hands to keep busy doing things, for country people must do for themselves many tasks that city folks have done for them ; feet to walk along the narrow roads and over the green fields, to climb the hills and to wade in the brooks ; and 3

INTRODUCTION eyes to see the hundreds of wonders that city folks can never find.

If you read this book you will learn how Trudy left her city home and went to live for a while with grandmother and grandfather and Timothy at Todd’s Ferry ; how she made friends with Amos, and the White Lady, and the Santa Claus man, and Mr. Turner who could make maple-sugar, and ever so many other people ; and what they did together.

And when you have finished the book, I wonder whether you will agree with the boy who sped through Todd’s Ferry in the big automobile or with Trudy and Timothy, who lived there !

Trudy’s Home

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XVII. Thanksgiving

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Illustrations

PAGE

The White Lady Made Sugar Cakes . Frontispiece s

It Was Surely Santa Claus . . . . 28 '

“ What a Lovely, Lovely House ! ” . . .114

All the Other Children Crowded Around

Outside 143

Down She Came, Very Slowly , 190 '

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Chapter I Trudy Comes To Todd’s Ferry

It had snowed all the day before, and all night, but now the sun was shining, and Timothy was sliding on his flexible flyer. Timothy lived in a big white farmhouse, on the side of a New Hampshire hill. The name of the village was Todd's Ferry, and Timothy's name was Todd, too.

The road from the post-office came right up to the farmhouse door as if it wanted to go in, then remembered it must keep on to the next town and went away, down the hill. On the other side of the road was the sloping pasture where Susan, the cow, lived all summer. In winter she lived in the hay-scented barn, so grandfather had taken down the bars, and 9

IO TRUDT AND TIMOTHT

Timothy was sliding from the door-yard, across the road and away down the pasture to the stone wall at the other side. Every time he dragged his sled back, he knocked on the glass in the door and called, “ Grandma, where do you s’pose she is now ? ”

And grandmother answered, “ Perhaps she is in the railroad station.”

Next time she said, “ Perhaps she is getting on the train,” and at last she looked at the clock and said, “ Oh, now she is in the way. The train has started ! ”

Then Timothy shouted with joy, and jumped on the sled so quickly and kicked his heels so high that the sled was frightened and ran away, and tipped him out in a snow-bank.

At the same time that Timothy was playing on the New Hampshire hill, a little girl was sitting with her father and mother in the station waiting-room in Boston. Her name was Gertrude, and her other name was Todd, and she was Timothy's cousin. They had never seen each other, because Timothy's father and mother had died when he was a baby, and he had al-

TODD'S FERRT

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ways lived in the big white farmhouse with his grandfather and grandmother. Gertrude had lived in Boston, in a tall building with lots of other families, and she had never seen the country hills. But now she was going to visit grandmother and grandfather for a whole year l And she was going alone, too.

Her father had worked in a dark, hot office in a great ugly factory, and he had worked so hard and so long that it had made him sick, so the doctor had told him that he must go to Florida and stay there a year. Mother was going, too, to take care of him, but Gertrude was to live in New Hampshire on the farm with Cousin Timothy. And now they were all waiting for the train.

At last father went out into the train shed, and came back, saying, “ Well, honey-bunch, it's time to go.” They walked down past ever so many cars till they found one marked “ This car for Todd’s Ferry,” and the brakeman swung Gertrude up the high step. Mother and father got in too, and stayed till the conductor shouted “ All aboard,” and then they both hugged Gertrade very hard, and said, “ Be a good girl and mind Grandma,’ 7 and hurried out of the car.

The train began to move. Gertrude flattened her nose against the window and watched them, standing on the platform as long as she could see them.

“ Tickets, please/ 7 said a voice beside her, and there was the conductor, waiting.

She unfastened her new red bag and handed him her ticket, saying, “I want to get off at Todd’s Ferry, please.”

“ I’ll remember,” he answered, “ but it's a long way from here, and you’d better take off your coat and hat and make yourself comfortable. Have you any ticket for your child ? ”

Gertrude thought he meant it until she saw his eyes twinkle, then she took Bessie-doll into her lap and said, “ She isn’t five years old yet.” He went on with a laugh that made the people in the car turn and look at the little girl in the big green seat.

The train hurried on and on. No one paid any attention to Gertrude. She began to feel

TODD'S FERRT

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very lonely, and the tears crept into her eyes, but she remembered that she was a big girl, eight years old, much too old to cry. So she turned and looked out of the window. The train was rushing away from the houses and factories as fast as it could, and she saw brown fields with great rocks and thick green pine trees. Soon she saw patches of snow, and then a large pond, frozen over, with many children skating on it. There were more and more snow patches, and at last the fields were all white and sparkling in the bright sunlight. Gertrude saw the hills in the distance, and as she looked up their snowy sides, the sun shone full in her eyes. He winked at her, and he blinked at her, and he drove her tears away, and when he had coaxed a smile on her face, he whispered, “ Timothy is waiting for you, over beyond those hills. I can see him.”

Then the sun, high up in the blue sky, looked over on the other side of the hills at Timothy, who was still sliding on his flexible flyer. And he winked at him, and he blinked at him, and he shouted loud at him, “ Gertrude is coming on the train — on the rushing, hurrying train. I can see her.”

Grandmother came to the door. She called, “ Come, Timothy, come in now. It’s getting cold, and I need some more wood. Come and fill the wood-box.”

Timothy did not like to fill the wood-box, but to-day he was so excited about his cousin who was coming to live with him that he forgot to fuss, and went back and forth between the shed and the kitchen until the great wood-box was piled high with sticks for the fire. Grandfather came in with two shiny tin pails of warm milk. Behind him trotted Dilly, the cat, ready for her supper of froth from the milk pails. She sat down under the sink by her saucer, and waited while grandmother strained the milk. Grandfather and Timothy washed their hands, and when the sun had gone to bed behind the mountain, grandmother and grandfather and Timothy and Dilly all sat in the warm pleasant kitchen, waiting for the stage which would bring Gertrude from the train.

TODD'S FERRY

Gertrude and Bessie-doll had watched the sun slide down behind the mountain too, and there were long, long shadows on the ground when they left the train.

“ Todd’s Ferry — Todd’s Ferry,” shouted the brakeman. Gertrude hurried through the car and out onto the platform. The conductor helped her down the steps and said good-bye. The train puffed away. She looked about her. There were a few men on the platform, and a crowd of big boys and girls who had come up on the train from the high school, a few stations below.

A fat, jolly man in a shaggy fur coat came toward Gertrude.

“ Are you the little girl that’s going to Jonas Todd’s ? ” he asked.

“ I’m going to my Grandfather Todd’s,” said Gertrude. “ It’s where my Cousin Timothy lives.”

“ You’re the girl, all right. Come on now. I’ve got something in the stage your grandma’am sent to keep you warm.”

Gertrude followed him to a covered sleigh that stood by the platform. He reached in and from the back seat took a warm shawl, wrapped Gertrude and Bessie-doll in it, and put them in the sleigh, on a buffalo robe. Then he tucked them all in tight with another buffalo robe.

“ There now,” he said, “ if we meet Jack Frost on the way, he can't find you.”

In a minute Gertrude heard a great banging and knocking as he strapped her trunk on the rack behind, threw a bag of mail in front, and climbed into his seat.

“ Git-ap, git-ap,” he shouted. The horses started, and they went swiftly over the smooth snow. The road lay between thick woods, but in the open spaces Gertrude could look up and see the stars. She thought there were a great many more stars in the country than in the city, but the driver told her it was because there were no street lights in the country to blind her eyes.

They stopped at the post-office to leave the mail, and when he jumped into the sleigh again, Gertrude leaned forward and spoke to him.

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“ Do you know my Cousin Timothy ? ”

My — how he laughed ! “ Know Timothy ? I should say I did I Everybody in town knows Timothy Todd and Lamey.”

“ Who is Lamey ? ” asked Gertrude, but he was shouting “ Git-ap, git-ap ” to the horses, and did not hear her. Up the hill they went, along the road that wanted to live at Grandfather Todd's, till it brought them right to the door.

Timothy heard the bells first.

“ She’s coming ! She’s coming ! ” he cried.

“ Whoa,” called the driver.

Grandfather went to the door.

“ Hullo, Jonas,” said the driver. “ I’ve brought you a boarder.”

Grandfather lifted Gertrude, Bessie-doll and grandmother’s shawl out from the nest of buffalo robes and handed the whole bundle to grandmother.

“ Well, here’s my little girl ! Timothy, here she is — here’s Gertrude.”

Gertrude saw a little boy with thick redbrown hair, who peeked at her over the edge of

1 8 TRUDT 4ND TIMOTHT

the table. His blue eyes were very wide open, and his hands twisted the buttons on his brown suit. Timothy saw a yellow-haired girl in a black coat with a wide blue collar, and a tight little black hat with a blue bow on the side. They looked at each other while grandfather and the driver carried the trunk up-stairs. Grandmother went too, to show them where to put it.

“ I know what your name is,” said Timothy.

“ I know yours too. It’s Timothy.”

“ Yours is Trudy.”

“ No, sir — it's Gertrude.”

“Well, perhaps it’s Gertrude when you're home, but up here it's Trudy. Lamey an' I decided to-day that your name would be Trudy.”

Gertrude wondered again who Lamey was, but before she could ask, grandmother and grandfather came back, and they had supper. Timothy went to bed right after supper, and grandmother took Gertrude up-stairs. The bed was very broad and very high, and when Gertrude climbed into it she sank down and down among the feathers until she thought she would

TODD'S FERRT never stop. After grandmother had heard her say her prayers, and kissed her, and had taken away the lamp, Gertrude was sure she was going to cry. But before the tears could come, the Sandman tiptoed through the room, and almost in a minute it was morning.

“ Wake up, wake up, Trudy," called Timothy up the stairs. “ Breakfast's all ready, and Lamey wants to make your 'quaintance."

“ Run across the hall, dear, and dress in the warm room," said grandmother.

Gertrude looked all about the kitchen when she came down to breakfast, but there was nothing there except the cat, and grandmother said her name was Dilly. She looked out the glass panes in the door. There was Timothy, racing across the snow with his sled. On the sled was a box, and in the box stood something brown and feathery. He saw her and capered up to the door-stone, bringing the sled around with a great flourish.

“Good-morning," he shouted, “ good-morning, Cousin Trudy ! Here's Lamey, come to see you this fine morning."

He stooped and lifted Lamey from the box.

“ Say hullo to your Cousin Trudy, Lamey dear,” he cooed, stroking her neck.

“ Quawk — qua-a-a-awk,” said Lamey.

Lamey — was — a — hen I

Chapter II

Gertrude soon learned that Lamey was not the only hen on the farm. In the barn lived more than a hundred other hens, and grandfather said that in the spring there would be three or four hundred chickens. Some of the hens were brown, like Lamey, and some were speckled and gray. Susan, the old cow, lived in the barn too, and Daisy, the young cow, and Jack, the horse, who took grandfather to the store when he went after grain. Lamey had been bitten in the leg by a skunk one night. Grandfather had frightened the skunk away, and brought Lamey into the kitchen. Here she had lived behind the stove until she was well again, but she could never run as before. She hopped along with a funny little skip, so Timothy named her Lamey. She had grown 21 tame in the house, and would let Timothy do almost anything with her.

Gertrude’s mother had said that she was to go to school with her cousin, but it really seemed like vacation. No one spoke of school at all.

“ Don’t they have school in the country ? ” she asked one day.

“ Of course,” said Timothy, “ but the fall term is over, and the spring term hasn’t begun.”

Grandmother explained that the houses were so far apart, and the snow so deep that all the children could not get to the schoolhouse in the coldest weather, and the terms were different from those in the city. So Trudy and Timothy had little to do except to play and get acquainted. When Gertrude could not understand why hens had to have chicken-cake baked for them, Timothy was very scornful.

“ How do you s’pose we’d fatten those chickens for market if they didn’t have the right things to eat ? ” he asked.

But when Gertrude asked him what street and number his house was, he didn’t know what she meant. “We just live on the back road,”

he said. “ Everybody knows Mr. Todd’s house.” Gertrude tried to tell him about the miles of houses in the city streets, all numbered, but he would not listen, and soon they were almost quarreling. Grandfather was resting in the red rocking-chair. He called them to him.

“ You sit on one arm, Trudy,” he said, u and Timothy on the other. Now let me tell you something. You must not quarrel about the city and the country. Trudy knows things that Timothy doesn’t, and Timothy knows things that Trudy doesn’t. But grandfather knows that city and country are very different, yet we couldn’t get along without either. I live in the country and raise chickens, and folks in the city buy them, so we help each other. And pretty soon I’m going to the station with a box of them — who wants to go ? ”

“ I do — I do ! ” cried Timothy.

“ I do — I do I ” cried Trudy.

So they all went out to the barn, and Timothy held the shafts while grandfather backed Jack into the sleigh, and Trudy tried to drag the heavy buffalo robe from the seat.

At the station they drove to the platform where Trudy had met the stage-driver. She saw him now, sitting on a baggage-truck.

“ Hullo, Red-top/' he shouted, and Timothy turned red in the face.

“What does he call you that for?” asked Gertrude.

“ That’s what his name ought to be — Timothy’s grass and Red-top’s grass — and his top is red enough, ain’t it ? ”

Timothy pulled his brown cap down over his red hair. The men on the platform laughed, but Gertrude thought they were rude. One tall, thin man got up from his seat and walked over to Timothy, patting him on the shoulder. “ Never you mind, sonny,” he said ; “ it’s better to have red hair than none at all.” Then how they laughed at the man who had tried to plague Timothy, because, you see, he was very, very bald.

“ Oh, Amos,” cried Timothy, “ when did you get back ? See, Amos, here’s my Cousin Trudy. She’s living at our house.”

“Is that so? ’’said Amos Bean. “Ain’t she a fat little girl ? Most as fat as your chickens. Guess you feed her on chicken-cake, too, don’t you ? Goin’ to have her for Christmas dinner?”

“ I guess not,” replied grandfather, putting his arm around her. “ She’s too good to eat.”

The box of chickens was all weighed now, so they drove away in a hurry because it was almost train time and Jack-horse was afraid of the cars. They stopped at the post-office on the way home, and grandfather asked for the mail.

“ Here’s a card for Miss Gertrude Todd,” said the postmaster ; “ does that go to your house ? ”

“ It’s mine ! ” cried Gertrude. “ Oh, goody — goody ! ”

It was a postal card from Florida, and there was one for Timothy, too, and one for grandfather, and a fat letter for grandmother.

Trudy’s card was a picture of oranges growing on the trees, and Timothy’s showed a big alligator, with a little boy standing on his back, and driving him with reins like a horse. Timothy almost wished that Lamey would turn into an alligator. On the cards it said, “ Don’t forget that Christmas is coming. Watch for Santa

Claus — it is just the place to see him— in the woods.”

“ It is almost Christmas, isn’t it ? ” said Trudy. “ If I was home I’d be buying Christmas presents and ornaments for my tree. There isn’t a ten-cent store here, so we can’t get any.”

“ We do have a Christmas tree, don’t we, grandma ? ” said Timothy.

“ Of course. This is the place where Christmas trees grow. And we can do the way I used to when I was a little girl, before there were any ten-cent stores. We can make all the ornaments.”

“ And the wreaths, too ? ”

“ Certainly. The wreaths grow on the ground under the snow. If you hunt in the woods, you will find sheltered places with beautiful evergreen running over the ground. You and Timothy can gather some, and we will make a wreath for every window.”

Across the sloping meadow, up on the side of the hill that climbed to the mountain, Gertrude had seen whitey-brown piles of something. Grandfather told her they were boards, and in the spring men would come and build a house there. A wood road led from the pasture to the piles of boards. It was along this road that the evergreen grew thickest, so Trudy and Timothy went there one day to gather their wreaths.

“ I never picked Christmas wreaths before,” she told him. “ At home we buy them in a store or out of a push-cart. This is ever so much more fun.”

“ There are lots of Christmas trees here, too. This would be a good place for Santa Claus to get some.”

“ Wouldn't it be great if we could see him ? ”

They ran about, pulling long strings from the ground. Suddenly Trudy stood quite still. “ Listen ! ” she whispered.

Timothy listened. “ It’s only a deer,” he said ; “ he’ll run away.”

Trudy had never seen a deer, so they crept softly, softly through the trees toward the noise.

“ Oh ! ” breathed Trudy.

“ Gee ! ” said Timothy.

There, feeling of a beautiful, thick Christmas tree, stood Santa Claus himself! He did not see them. But they saw him. They saw his jolly red face. They saw his snowy white hair. They saw his curly white beard. To be sure, he wore a fur coat, instead of his red and white suit, and there were no reindeer in sight, but it was surely Santa Claus. They had seen his picture often enough to know.

They scarcely breathed, until, without looking at them, he slowly walked away, fingering tree after tree.

“ He is picking out his Christmas trees,” whispered Trudy.

“ Let's hunt and see if we can find his reindeer.”

They looked all about in the woods, and searched the snow for tracks, but could not find any.

When they came racing home with the evergreen, they shouted the wonderful news.

“ We have seen Santa Claus ! He was picking Christmas trees ! Does he live here ? ”

“ Probably he was looking around to see if you were good children,” remarked grandfather, with a glance at the empty wood-box. Timothy ran

IT WAS SURELY SANTA CLAUS to the shed and in a jiffy the box was full. After supper Trudy wiped the dishes.

There were secrets in the farmhouse during the next few days. While grandfather and Timothy were hammering on a — something — in the barn, grandmother and Trudy were sewing on a — something — in the kitchen. And one day when grandfather and grandmother went to ride Trudy and Timothy made some matchscratchers and calendars. It was dark very early now, and the evenings were long. But what good times they all had in the farmhouse kitchen ! Grandmother spread newspapers over the table-cloth, and they all made wreaths for the windows, with a big one for the glass pane in the door. In some of them they put branches of pine with tiny brown cones on them, and in the door-wreath were some red partridge berries that grandfather had found under the snow.

Then grandmother made flour paste and hunted up pieces of shiny bright-colored paper. These they cut in strips and pasted into rings, .looping each one into the one before it, until they had long glittering chains. Grandfather

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popped corn, and they strung that, with now and then a red cranberry. Not all the pop-corn went on the strings, though — some of it went into two little red mouths.

The day before Christmas grandfather brought home a tree. It looked almost exactly like the one they had seen Santa Claus feeling of. He set it up in the sitting-room, near the fireplace, where it would be convenient for Santa Claus when he came down the chimney.

Every day the children had hunted in the woods, but they had not seen Santa Claus again. Once they found Amos Bean setting his traps. They told him about it.

“ You won’t see him now,” said Amos. “ This is his busy time. Why, he may be away down in Florida, where Trudy’s mother and father are, or out West somewhere. I guess he’ll be back here Christmas Eve.”

Trudy and Timothy worked all the afternoon trimming the tree, and the paper chains and strings of pop-corn looked very grand indeed. Then they hung on their presents for grandmother and grandfather. There was a calendar with “ Grandmother from Trudy ” on it, and a match-scratcher with “ Grandfather from Trudy.” And there was a calendar with “ Grandfather from Timothy ” and a match-scratcher with “ Grandmother from Timothy.” They hung the wreaths in the windows and the door. While they were eating supper Trudy said that a home-made Christmas was ever so much better than “ a boughten one.”

“ Now, children, you must scamper to bed. And whatever you hear, don't peek, will you ? Because this is Santa Claus' own night, and he is dreadfully rushed, and doesn't like to be disturbed.”

They both promised grandmother, but it was such hard work to go to sleep. Their eyes would not stay shut. They heard every creak of the boards, snapping in the cold. They heard the little mice, running about in the walls. They heard grandmother, walking in the rooms below. Then, after everything had been quiet a long time, they heard bells !

“ Timothy,” called Trudy softly, “ do you hear him?”

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“ It might be grandfather, 1 ” said Timothy, “ but we can tell, because if it’s grandfather, he'll say ‘ Whoa/ ”

They listened and listened. The bells came nearer. They stopped before the house. There wasn’t a single sound — nobody said a word ! Only in a little while the bells jingled away !

“ It was Santa Claus ! He’s been — he’s been ! ” whispered Trudy loudly. “ Oh, Timothy, don’t you wish it was morning? ”

Very early, before it was light, they woke. They hurried down to the kitchen where they had hung their stockings. And there they were, brimming full, and all bumpy with some heavy round things. Timothy pulled his out first.

“ Oranges ! ”

“ Santa Claus did go to Florida, just as Amos said, didn’t he? ”

And he must have, for, besides the oranges in the stockings, they found a great box of them in the shed that wasn’t there the day before. He had loaded the tree with packages, too. Toys and games, two new dresses for Bessie-doll, a pair of cuff-buttons for grandfather, a pin for grandmother — oh, there were so many lovely things ! And then there was the something that was made in the barn, which turned out to be a doll-house for Trudy, and the something that was made in the kitchen, which was a warm cape and cap for Lamey to wear when she had her rides on the flexible flyer ! It took all the forenoon to really see everything there was on that wonderful tree.

For dinner there was a fat chicken, and such a beautiful “ moreish ” pudding. Timothy was sighing with content when he remembered Lamey.

“ Oh, dear,” he cried, “ I forgot poor Lamey. She hasn’t had a bit of a Christmas dinner.”

“ Did you look in her house ? ” asked grandfather.

Timothy had made a house for Lamey in the shed, out of an old box. He pretended that she lived there, and had fixed a make-believe t telephone for her so she wouldn’t be lone- * some.

“ Why don’t you call her up? ” asked grandmother.

Timothy went to the wall and took up a spool that hung from a hook.

“ Hello,” he called. “ Hello — is this Lamey ? . . . How are you, Lamey, dear? . . . I’ll be out pretty soon and give you a nice Christmas dinner.”

A funny squawky voice sounded in the room. “ I'm eating my nice Christmas dinner now, Timothy. Come out and see me.”

Timothy looked at Trudy. Trudy looked at Timothy. They ran to the shed. Grandmother followed them to the door, and grandfather stood looking over her shoulder.

There was Lamey, walking slowly around a tiny tree, about a foot high, and reaching up to peck off bits of chicken-cake and kernels of corn that were scattered over the branches.

“ Why — why ” — squealed Timothy, “ Santa Claus brought Lamey a Christmas tree too, didn't he? ”

Lamey did not look at them, but the funny squawky voice came again. “ Yes, yes,” it said, “ and a dinner on the tree. I like my corn before it is popped.”

Chapter III

Bill, the big boy who worked at the store, drove into the door-yard a few days after Christmas. He brought some groceries for grandmother, and a heavy package.

“ Here’s an express package for Gertrude and Timothy Todd,” he said.

“ What do you suppose it is ? ” asked Timothy, lifting it. “ It’s awful heavy.”