Our travellers were still forty miles from Brookdale; but the rest of the journey was to be by land. On landing, they went directly to the village tavern, where they found a good breakfast awaiting them, to which, however, they could devote but a very few minutes, for the stage coach was waiting. Having made as large a draft on the driver’s patience as they deemed prudent, they took their seats in the vehicle, and resumed their journey. For a while, the children found much to interest them in the country through which they passed; but it soon became an old story; and before they had climbed half of the hills that separated them from Brookdale, the inquiries were frequently heard,—
“How far have we got to go, now, Mr. Preston? Haven’t we come more than half way? Shan’t we get there before noon?”
As the stage coach did not pass through Brookdale, passengers for that village were obliged to leave it at a place called the Cross Roads, about five miles distant, and find their way over as best they could. It was noon when our party reached this stopping-place. As they alighted, a boy about fourteen years old stepped up to Mr. Preston, who introduced him to Ella and Whistler as Clinton Davenport. The two boys were cousins; but they had never seen each other before. It seemed that Clinton, knowing they were expected, had gone over to the Cross Roads after them, with a wagon. A drive of five miles through a pleasant road brought them to their journey’s end. They were in Brookdale.
CHAPTER II.
LOOKING ABOUT.
DINNER was on the table when Whistler arrived at Mr. Davenport’s, and he found his uncle and aunt, and his little cousin Annie, ready to welcome him to their hospitalities. These, with Clinton, constituted the whole family. The young stranger soon felt quite at home in their society. He was much pleased with his cousins at first sight, for he had never seen either of them before. Annie, who was about seven years old, was a beautiful child, with golden curls and fair blue eyes, and a face full of gentleness and affection. She seemed to be the pet of the household. Clinton, though but a month or two older than Whistler, was a stouter and taller boy, and his browned skin and hardened hands told that he was not unacquainted with labor and out-door exposure. He had, moreover, an intelligent, cheerful, and frank expression of countenance, that could not help prepossessing a stranger in his favor. The parents of these children Whistler had previously seen at his own house, and he had always numbered them among his favorite relatives.
Whistler’s first movement, after dinner, was to make an inspection of the premises. He found that his uncle’s farm lay at the base of a range of hills, and embraced a wide extent of land, a good part of which seemed to be under skilful cultivation. The house itself was set back a few rods from the street, and was pleasantly situated, with its front towards the south. It was a snug, plain-looking building, a story and a half high, with a kitchen and wood-shed attached in the rear. A noble oak tree, in front, afforded a grateful shade; and climbing roses and honeysuckles were trained around the front door, giving a neat and tasteful aspect to the cottage. In the rear, upon an elevated pole, was a perfect fac-simile of the house, in miniature, erected for the accommodation of the birds; and there never was a spring-time when this snug tenement failed to secure a respectable family as tenants for the season. On the next page is a view of the premises.
The barn, which the picture is not large enough to take in, was a short distance from the house, on the left. It was much larger than the cottage, and attached to it were buildings for the hens and pigs.
Clinton, who had been busy, now joined his cousin, and offered to accompany him around the premises.