There was simply no end to the fun, and the secrecy with which it was carried on helped to deepen the interest. The climax was reached when preparations were begun for King Richard's banquet.
As usual, it originated with Bess, when she heard that a favorite cousin, a boy about Carl's age, was coming to visit them for a few days.
"Aleck will make a very good King Richard," said Louise, when the matter was under discussion, "and we can pretend that he is just back from the Holy Land."
It was decided that this must be a real feast, not merely an occasion of pepper grass and cookies, so their combined funds were carefully laid out at the corner confectionery. Many articles supposed to be necessary to the comfort of the royal guest were smuggled into the garden, and everything was in readiness for his arrival on the next day, when Ikey made his startling discovery.
It had never occurred to them that some one might come to live in the Brown house; they were quite overwhelmed by it, and for more than an hour they sat under the syringa bushes peeping through at their lost domain. No one had much to say. Bess was gazing sadly at her roll of cambric which was to have done duty as suits of Lincoln green for the foresters, and Ikey was thinking of the fur rug and the clothes-pins, when Carl proposed a raid for the recovery of their possessions. "The girls can wait on the fence and take the things as we bring them," he said.
This promised a little excitement, so on the very spot from which they had made their first entrance into Sherwood forest, Bess and Louise waited while the boys dropped down and disappeared behind the bushes. In a few minutes they came rushing back empty handed, to report that not a trace of anything was to be found, and that a man with a scythe was at work on the other side of the garden cutting down the grass.
It was very quiet in the neighborhood that afternoon. There were no children to be seen anywhere, and on the broad piazza of the house where the Hazeltines lived the chairs and settees, with here and there a gay cushion, appeared to be having a good time all to themselves, gathered in sociable groups. The clematis and honeysuckle swung softly in the breeze, making graceful shadows, and the maple trees stretched out long arms and touched each other gently now and then. At the back of the house on the kitchen steps sat Aunt Sukey, a person of dignity and authority. Her hands were folded over her white apron and her eyes rested with satisfaction on the rows of peach preserves that represented her morning's work.
"Mammy," as the children called her, was a family institution, and could not be spared, though her last nursling was fast outgrowing her.
No preserves tasted like Sukey's, and no one could, on occasion, make such rolls.