PAGE 5
Tish Does Her Bit
by
“The barn’s locked,” said Tish.
“I could get in through a window.”
I shall never forget Tish’s look of scorn as she rose with dignity, and stalked toward the barn.
“I shall go myself, Aggie,” she said, as she passed her. “You would probably fall in the rain barrel under the window. You’re no climber. And you might as well eat those crusts you’ve hidden under the porch, if you’re as hungry as you make out you are.”
“Lizzie,” Aggie hissed, when Tish was out of hearing, “what is in that barn?”
“It may be anything from a German spy to an aeroplane,” I said. “But it’s not your business or mine.”
“You needn’t be so dratted virtuous,” Aggie observed, scooping a hole in the petunia bed and burying the crusts in it. “Whatever’s on her mind is in that barn.”
“Naturally,” I observed. “While Tish is in it!”
Tish returned in a short time with one egg, which she placed on the porch floor without a word. But as she made no effort to give Aggie the house key, and as Aggie has never learned to swallow a raw egg, although I have heard that they taste rather like oysters, and slip down in much the same way, Aggie was obliged to continue hungry.
It is only just to record that Tish grew more companionable after luncheon, and got into a large chestnut tree near the house by climbing on top of the hen house. We had always before had the farmer’s boy to do the climbing into the upper branches, and I confess to a certain nervousness, especially as Tish, when far above the ground, decided to take off her dress skirt, which was her second best tailor-made, and climb around in her petticoats.
She had to have both hands free to unhook the band, and she very nearly overbalanced while stepping out of it.
“Drat a woman’s clothes, anyhow,” she said. “If we had any sense we’d wear trousers.”
“I understand,” I said, “that even trousers are not easy to get out of, Tish.”
“Don’t be a fool, Lizzie,” she said tartly. “If I had trousers on I wouldn’t have to take them off. Catch it!”
However, the skirt did not fall clear, but caught on a branch far out, and hung there. Tish broke off a small limb and poked at it from above, and I found a paling from a fence and threw it up to dislodge it. But it stuck tight, and the paling came down and struck Aggie on the head. Had we only known it, this fortunate accident probably saved Aggie’s life, for she sat down suddenly on the ground, and said faintly that her skull was fractured.
I was bending over Aggie when I heard a sharp crack from above. I looked up, and Tish was lying full length on a limb, her arm out to reach for the skirt and a most terrible expression on her face. There was another crack, and our poor Tish came hurtling through the air, landing half in Aggie’s lap and half in the suitcase.
I was quite unable to speak, and owing, as I learned later, to Tish’s head catching her near the waist line, Aggie had no breath even to scream.
There was a dreadful silence. Then Tish said, without moving:
“All my property is to go to Charlie Sands.”
“Tish!” I cried, in an agony, and Aggie, who still could not speak, burst into tears.
However, a moment later, Tish drew up first one limb and then the other, and observed that her back was broken. She then mentioned that Aggie was to have her cameo set and the dining room sideboard, and that I was to have the automobile, but the next instant she felt a worm on her neck and sat up, looking rather dishevelled, but far from death.
“Where are you hurt, Tish?” I asked, trembling.
“Everywhere,” she replied. “Everywhere, Lizzie. Every bone in my body is broken.”
But after a time the aching localized itself in her right arm, which began to swell. We led her down to the creek and got her to hold it in the cold water and Aggie, being still nervous and unsteady, slipped on a mossy stone and sat down in about a foot of water. It was then that our dear Tish became like herself again, for Aggie was shocked into saying, “Oh, damn!” and Tish gave her a severe lecture on profanity.