That was a busy, bustling morning. As early as Ned and Laurie and Kewpie reached the Pequot Queen, Polly and Mae and Brose Wilkins were before them. Although much had been accomplished yesterday, much remained to be done. Bob arrived an hour later, bearing a box of flowers from his aunt. Brose, singing as he worked, dropped his hammer to touch up a spot with a paint-brush, abandoned paint-brush to seize again on hammer or screw-driver. Kewpie, eager for employment, got in every one’s way and accumulated a great deal of fresh white pigment every time he turned around. The plumber, having set the sink up, went away, and the awning man arrived to take measurements. The awning was to cover the rear half of the roof-deck. There had once been an awning all over the roof, and, although the frame had disappeared, the sockets into which the uprights had been screwed remained. To put an awning over the whole roof-deck was beyond their means, but they could well afford to protect half of it. Brose was going to make two flower-boxes to fit the benches along the railing and fill them with earth so that, when summer came, Miss Comfort would have a veritable roof-garden up there. Brose thought of all sorts of things, practical and otherwise. One of the practical things was a place to dry clothes on the small deck forward, where he stretched four lengths of line from a post set in the flag-pole socket at the extreme bow to four galvanized iron hooks screwed to the front of the wheel-house.
At eleven Peter Brown arrived with Miss Comfort’s worldly belongings. Peter was small and very black; Peter’s horse was small and presumably white; and Peter’s wagon was small and extremely ramshackle. How he managed to get so much on it was a question! A narrow black walnut bedstead in several sections, together with its appurtenances; a drop-leaf mahogany table; a funny old trunk with a rounded top; five chairs of assorted shapes and sizes; a packing-case of cooking-utensils; a barrel of china and crockery; a walnut what-not; a wash-boiler filled with miscellany; a marble clock wrapped in a patchwork quilt; some books; three pictures in faded gilt frames; a huge bundle of bedding; a roll of frayed straw matting; some braided rugs; a spotless deal table and various other smaller sundries.
Peter and Brose unloaded at the end of the gangway, and the boys bore the things aboard. In the cabin Polly and Mae directed the bestowing of them, wiping everything clean with a dust-cloth as it was set in place. The packing-case was left on deck, as was the barrel, but the rest of the things went inside, and when they were all there there was just room for the two girls to move cautiously about!
But half an hour later there was another tale to tell. The cooking-utensils were hung on nails, the dishes were on the shelves, the bed was set up and dressed, the trunk was under the deal table, the rugs were on the floor, the pictures were hung, the drop-leaf table stood under the hanging lamp, and order had emerged from chaos. Of course, as Polly acknowledged, the place did look a trifle crowded, but she guessed Miss Comfort wouldn’t mind. Two articles alone defeated their efforts, the what-not and the marble clock. The what-not, built to fit in a corner, looked sadly out of place at the foot of the bed, and the marble clock simply cried aloud for a mantel to rest on. But the corners were all occupied, and there was no mantel; and so the what-not remained where they had put it, and the clock for the time being reposed on a window-sill.
Brose hustled the empty case and barrel to the boiler-room, which compartment held also a supply of kindling-wood and a quarter of a ton of coal and so didn’t look one bit like a hen-house! Miss Comfort was to have an early lunch at Mrs. Deane’s, and she and the Widow were to arrive at the boat about half-past twelve. At exactly twelve Polly flipped her dust-cloth for the last time, the painter stowed his belongings in the wheel-house and called it a day, Brose relinquished his hammer, and seven satisfied and hungry workers gave their attention to the luncheon that the girls had prepared. To have dined at school would have prevented the twins and Kewpie from being on hand at Miss Comfort’s arrival, and they didn’t want to miss that!
There was plenty to eat, and full justice was done to the viands. It was a jolly, happy meal, too, for the Pequot Queen looked as none of them had ever hoped to see it look, and, as Brose remarked, it would look a sight better before they got through with it. “When the awning’s up and there’s flowers along the rail there— What color’s the awning, Laurie?”
“Red and white.”
“Great! And then there’ll be little window-boxes under the two windows on this side. I’m going to paint ’em white with green crisscrosses on ’em; sort of lattice-effect, you know. And then I was thinking this morning that it wouldn’t be hard to make a little flower-bed on each side of the bridge there later. I could plant morning-glories or something so’s they’d climb along on the hand-rail. And some bright things, too, like geraniums or zinnias.”
“Brose,” exclaimed Laurie, “you’re a wonder!” He held aloft a paper cup filled with hot chocolate. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. Brose Wilkins, without whose assistance—no, directorship this undertaking would have been a—but a partial success. To his untiring zeal and—er—”
“There they come!” cried Kewpie excitedly.