Do you want to know how many Wards there were? Well, let me count. Of course, first to be mentioned came Doctor papa, and dear, beautiful mamma, who was never very strong. Then there was Donald, who was seventeen, and a big fellow, as well, and Marjorie, who was two years younger, but who already began to give herself grown-up airs. Eunice was next, nearly twelve. Then came Cricket, the “middleman.” They never knew whether to take her with the older ones, or leave her at home with the small fry. Donald would call her “trundlebed trash,” to her great indignation. Her name was really Jean, but she was such a chirpy, cheery little soul, that Cricket seemed just to suit her. Below her were the six-year-old twins; and, lastly, baby Kenneth, everybody’s pet, who was nearly three.
Wasn’t that a house full? And such a noise as they were equal to when they set about it! Mamma often said that it was fortunate that the roof was high and the walls were strong, else surely the house would have come down about their ears.
This year, to the wild delight of the entire family, papa had decided to go out into the country very early, on mamma’s account, for she needed the country air. So the middle of April found them comfortably settled for a long, lovely summer.
It was so early that papa thought it quite worth while for Eunice and Cricket, at least, to go to the country school for the rest of the term, while the older ones had lessons at home with him.
Cricket, especially, was greatly delighted with this arrangement. Her little friend, Hilda Mason, of whom she was very fond, of course went to school, and it was such fun going together. The little girls were delighted to be with each other, and Hilda always looked forward to the summer, when Cricket would come out into the country.
Hilda was a year older than Cricket, for she was eleven in June, and Cricket was ten in August. By reason of this extra year, she always thought Cricket should do just as she, Hilda, wanted.
Hilda was an only child, and lived with her mother and grandmother, who thought her perfect. Cricket, on the other hand, was very used to giving up her own way, as children in a large family generally are. Hilda was a quiet, demure little girl, with polite, grown-up manners. She always remembered to say “How-do-you do!” and that mamma sent her love, and she never forgot any errand she was sent on.
Cricket was a heedless little witch, and rarely, by any chance, remembered anything she was told to do. Her father always said that any errand she was given meant two, for she was never known to bring home both her package and her change at the same time.
Hilda was pretty, with big brown eyes and long, orderly, golden curls. She was plump and straight, and rather proper.
Cricket had short, brown curls, every one of which took a different kink, and gray-blue eyes that twinkled like merry little stars. She was thin and tall for her age, and her papa used to tease her by calling her long legs “knitting-needles,” and offering them to mamma for her fancy knitting.