Molly Brown's Post-Graduate Days Read online

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  "Oh, Miss Molly, let's stay in the 'beechwood period'forever."--Page 113.]

  MOLLY BROWN'S POST-GRADUATE DAYS

  BY

  NELL SPEED

  AUTHOR OF "MOLLY BROWN'S FRESHMAN DAYS," "MOLLY BROWN'S SOPHOMORE DAYS," "MOLLY BROWN'S JUNIOR DAYS," "MOLLY BROWN'S SENIOR DAYS," ETC., ETC.

  WITH FOUR HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHARLES L. WRENN

  NEW YORK

  HURST & COMPANY

  PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1914

  BY

  HURST & COMPANY

  CONTENTS

  BOOK I. I. The Arrival 5 II. My Old Kentucky Home 22 III. Wedding Preparations and Confidences 36 IV. Burglars 51 V. The Wedding 62 VI. Buttermilk Tact 77 VII. Pictures on Memory's Wall 100 VIII. All Kinds of Weather 114 IX. Jimmy 143 X. Aunt Clay Makes a Mistake 154

  BOOK II. I. Wellington Again 170 II. Levity in the Leaven 189 III. History Repeats Itself 208 IV. A Barrel from Home 223 V. Dodo's Surprise Party 241 VI. More Surprises 261 VII. Dreams and Realities 269 VIII. The Old Queen's Crowd 288

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  PAGE

  "Oh, Miss Molly, let's stay in the 'beechwood period' forever" Frontispiece

  "Hello, girls," exclaimed Kent, hugging Molly, on one side, and shaking hands with Judy, on the other 10

  "Read me the poem yourself. Would you mind?" 218

  The two Kentucky girls made a wonderfully charming picture 252

  MOLLY BROWN'S POST-GRADUATE DAYS.

  BOOK I.

  CHAPTER I.--THE ARRIVAL.

  "Oh, Judy, almost home! I wonder who will meet us," cried Molly Brown."I feel in my bones that you and my family will be as good friends asyou and I have always been. You are sure to get on well with the boys."

  Judy responded with a hug, thinking, with a happy twinkle in her large,gray eyes, that, if by any chance the rest of the Brown boys could be asattractive as Molly's brother, Kent, and should find her as fascinatingas Kent had seemed to, when she met him in the spring before the collegepageant, she bade fair to have an exciting visit in Kentucky.

  Molly Brown and Julia Kean (Judy for short), after four busy years ofcollege life, had just graduated at Wellington, and were on their way toMolly's home in Kentucky, where Judy was to pay a long visit. As Mollyhad been looking forward to the time when she could have some of hercollege chums know her numerous and beloved family, she was very happyat the prospect. Judy, who was ever ready for an adventure, was bubblingover with anticipation.

  The girls sat gazing out on the beautiful rolling fields of blue grassand tasseling corn, which Molly knowingly remarked promised an excellentcrop. Molly's blue eyes were misty when she thought of dear oldWellington College, the four years of hard work and play, and the manyfriends she had made and left, some of them, perhaps, never to seeagain. Her mind dwelt a long time on Professor Green, the delightfulold, young man, who had opened up a new world to her in literature; whohad been so very kind to her through the whole college course, oftencoming to her rescue when in difficulties, and always sympathizing withher when she most needed sympathy; and who had, finally, proved to beher real benefactor, when she discovered that he was the purchaser ofthose acres of perfectly good orchard that had to be sold to keep Mollyat college. On bidding him good-by, she had extended to him aninvitation from her mother to make them a visit in Kentucky, and she hadalready speculated much as to whether the young, old man would accept.Molly never could decide whether to think of him as an old, young man,or a young, old man. Professor Green was in reality about thirty, but,when one is under twenty, over thirty seems very old.

  Molly smiled when she thought of her parting scene with him, and made amental note that that was one of the things she must be sure to confessto mother. The smile was enough to dispel the mist that was in her eyes,and her mind turned to Chatsworth, her dear home. She thought of hermother, her brothers and sisters; the decrepit old cook, Aunt MaryMorton; Shep and Gyp, the dogs; her horse, President, no longer young,having lived through four administrations, but still having more go inhim than many a colt, showing his fine racing blood and the "mettle ofhis pasture."

  "Only two miles more," breathed Molly jubilantly. "We must get ournumerous packages together."

  The girls had planned to have no bundles to carry on the train, nothingbut two highly respectable suitcases; but the fates were againstanything so unheard of as two females going on a journey with no extras.They had seven boxes of candy presented at parting by various friends. Alarge basket of fruit was added to their cares, put on the Pullman inNew York by the resourceful Jimmy Lufton, with instructions to theporter to give it to the two prettiest girls who got on at Wellington,with through sleeper to Kentucky. There were the inevitable shirtwaistsfound in Molly's bottom drawer; books and what not, lent to variousgirls and returned too late to pack; and some belated laundry that Mollyhad not had the heart to worry her old friend, Mrs. Murphy,about--collars, jabots, and the muslin sash curtains from her room atcollege that Molly could not make up her mind to put in her trunk intheir dusty state. These things were put in a bulging box and labeled byJudy, quoting the immortal Mr. Venus, "Bones Warious."

  "I wish we could forget it and leave it on the train," said Molly. "Thethings in it are all mine, and, now I come to think of it, I believethere is nothing there of any real value except the jabots Nance mademe--those that Mrs. Murphy called my 'jawbones.' I could not bear to losethem, and we have not time to dig them out. If Kent meets us he is sureto tease me, and you know how badly I take a teasing. He says he islopsided now from carrying his sisters' clothes that they have forgottento pack in their trunks."

  "Let me call the 'foul, hunch-backed toad' of a bundle mine," offeredJudy. "Your brother does not know me well enough to tease me."

  "Don't you believe it! Besides, you can't fool Kent. He knows me and mybundles too well. Here we are," added Molly hastily, "and there is Kentto meet us, driving the colts, if you please. It is a good thing you arenot Nance Oldham. She will not consent to ride behind any colt youngerthan ten years old!"

  The train stopped just long enough for the girls to jump off, the porterdepositing their numerous belongings in a heap on the platform.

  "Hello, girls," exclaimed Kent, hugging Molly, on oneside, and shaking hands with Judy, on the other.--Page 10.]

  "Hello, girls," exclaimed Kent, hugging Molly, on one side, and shakinghands with Judy, on the other, while a diminutive darkey swung on to thecolts' bits, occasionally leaping into the air as the restive horsestossed their proud heads. "My, it is good to see you! And your train ontime, too! That is such a rare occurrence that I have an idea it may beyesterday's train. You don't mean to say that this is all of theemergency baggage you are carrying?" grabbing the two highly respectablesuitcases and st
owing them in the back of the trim, red-wheeled Jerseywagon. The girls giggled, and Kent discovered the conglomeratecollection of packages that the porter had hastily dumped by the side ofthe track.

  Molly beat a hasty retreat into the station, declaring that she mustspeak to Mrs. Woodsmall, the postmistress, thus hoping to avoid theinevitable teasing from her big brother. Judy, with the spirit andsomewhat the expression of a Christian martyr, picked up the aforesaiddespised, bumpy, bulging bundle, and, with a sweet smile, said: "This ismine, Mr. Brown. Will you please take it? The rest of the things areboxes of candy and parting gifts from various friends."

  Kent took the disreputable looking package, which was not at allimproved by its long trip on the Pullman and the many disdainful kicksthe girls had given it. Now, in the last hasty handling, the porter hadloosened the much knotted string, the paper had burst, and from theyawning gash there had crept a bit of blue ribbon, Molly's own blue.Judy, with her ever-ready imagination, had been heard to call it "theblue of chivalry and romance, the blue of distant mountains and deepseas."

  Kent took the package, smiling his quizzical smile; the smile that fromthe beginning had made Judy decide that he was very likable; a smile allfrom the eyes, with a grave mouth. In fact, the young lady had been sotaken with it that she had practiced the expression before her mirrorfor half an hour and then held it until she could try it on the firstperson passing by. That person happened to be Edith Williams, who hadremarked: "Gracious me, Judy, what is the matter? I feel as though youwere some one in a hogshead looking through the bunghole at me." Judywas delighted. It was exactly the expression she was aiming for, but shewas sorry that she had not thought of the apt description herself.

  "Now, Miss Judy, I have known for four years from Molly's letters what abully good chum you are, and have observed before now how charming andbeautiful, but this role of Christian martyr is a new one on me. Don'tyou know you can't fool me about a Brown bundle? I could pick one out ofthe hold of an ocean liner in the dark, just by the lumpy, bumpy feel ofit. Besides"--pointing to the bit of blue ribbon spilling through thewidening tear--"there are Molly's honest old eyes peeping out, telling methat this little subterfuge of yours is just an act of true friendshipon your part, to keep me from teasing her about her slipshod method ofpacking. I tell you what I will do, Miss Judy, if you will do somethingfor me. I'll make a compact with you, and promise to go the whole ofthis day without teasing Molly."

  "Well, what am I to do?"

  "Oh, it's easy enough. Don't call me Mr. Brown any more. Kent, from yourlips, would sound good to me. You see, there are four male Browns, andevery time you say 'Mr. Brown' we are liable to fall over one anotheranswering you or doing your bidding."

  "All right; 'Kent' it shall be for this day and every day that you don'ttease Molly."

  "I meant just for the one day. The strain of never teasing Molly againwould shatter my constitution."

  "Very well, Mr. Brown; just as you choose about that."

  "Oh, well, I give up."

  "All right, Kent."

  Molly emerged from the postoffice, with Mrs. Woodsmall following her.Such a stream of conversation poured from the latter's lips that Judyfelt her head swim.

  "Glad to meet you, Miss Kean. I have long wanted to see some of Molly'scorrespondents. What beautiful postals you sent her last year fromMaine; the summer before from Yellowstone Park; and those Eyetalian oneswere grand; one year, even from Californy. You are the most traveled ofall her friends, I believe, but Miss Oldham can say more on a postalthan any of you, and such a eligible hand, too. Now-a-days all of youyoung folks write so much alike, since the round style come in, I canhardly tell your writin' apart. It makes it very hard on a lonesomepostmistress whose only way of gitting news is from the mail shehandles. And now, since Uncle Sam has started this fool Rural FreeDelivery, I don't git time to more than half sort the mail before herecomes Bud Woodsmall and snatches it from under my nose with irrevalentremarks about cur'osity and cats. Gimme the good old days when theneighbors come a-drivin' up for their mail, and you could pass the timeo' day with them and git what news out of them you ain't been able togit off of the postals, or make out through the thin ornvelopes, orguess from the postmarks. Anyhow, I gits ahead of Woodsmall lots oftimes. Jest yistiddy I 'phoned over to Mrs. Brown that Molly would be inon this two train. To be sure, Woodsmall had the letter in his auto, buthe has to go a long way round, and he's sech a man for stopping andgassin', and Molly's ornvelope was some thinner than usual, and I couldsee mighty plain the time she expected to come. Said I to myself, saidI, 'Now, ain't Mrs. Brown nothing but a mother, and don't she want theearliest news of her child she can git? And ain't I the owner of thatnews, and should I not desiccate it if I can? It so happened thatWoodsmall had a blow-out, and didn't git yistiddy's mail delivered untilto-day. Now, tell me, wasn't I right to git ahead of him?" She did notpause for a reply, but plunged into the stream of conversation again.

  "I don't care if he is my own husband. He asked my sister first, and Inever would have had him if there had been a chance of anything betteroffering. I wouldn't have had him at all if I had foresaw that he wasgoing to fly in my face by gitting app'inted to R. F. D., and then flyin the face of Providence by trying to run one of them artemobes."

  Kent stopped the flow of words by saying: "Now, Mrs. Woodsmall, you aregiving Miss Kean an entirely wrong idea of you and Bud. She will thinkyou do not love him, and I am sure there is not a man in the county whofares better than your husband, or who shows his keep as well."

  The thin, hard face of the postmistress broke into a pleasant smile, andJudy thought: "After all, Kent and Molly are very much alike inunderstanding the human heart and in trying to make all around them feelas happy as possible."

  "Well, you see, Kent Brown, it's this way: I jest natchally love tocook, and Bud he jest natchally loves to eat, and I've got thetriflingest, no-count stomic that ever was seed. What's the use ofcooking up a lot of victuals for myself, when I can't eat more'n amouthful? And so," she somewhat lamely concluded, "I jest cook 'em upfor Bud."

  The colts could not be persuaded to stand still another minute, so theyhad to call a hasty good-by to the voluble Mrs. Woodsmall. Then thegirls gave their attention to holding on their hats and keeping theirseats, while the lively pair of young horses pranced and cavorted untilKent gave them their heads and allowed them to race their fill for amile or more of macadamized road.

  Judy was hardly prepared for such a trim turnout as the Jersey wagon,and such wonderful horses, to say nothing of the road. She had yet tolearn that Mrs. Brown would have good, well-kept vehicles on her place;that all the Browns would have good horses; and that all Kentuckiansinsist on good roads. The number of limestone quarries throughout thestate make good macadamized roads a comparatively easy matter.

  What a beautiful country it was: the fields of blue grass, with herds ofgrazing cattle, knee deep in June; an occasional clump of trees,reminding one rather of English landscapes; and then the fields of corn,proudly waving their tassels and shaking their pennant-like leaves, asmuch as to say, "roasting ears for all."

  "News for you, Molly," said Kent, as soon as he could get the colts downto a conversation permitting trot. "Mildred is to be married in twoweeks."

  "Oh, Kent, why didn't they write me?"

  "Mother thought it would be fun to surprise you."

  Judy's glowing face saddened. "Why, I should not be here at such a time.I know I shall be in the way. I must write to papa to come for mesooner."

  "Now, Miss Judy, 'the cat is out of the bag.' You have hit on the realreason why mother would not let any of us write Molly of the approachingnuptials in the family. She was so afraid that you might fear you wouldbe de trop and want to postpone your visit to us, and she has beendetermined that nothing should happen to keep her from making youracquaintance, and that at the earliest. You see, poor mother has had notonly to listen to Molly's ravings on the subject of Miss Julia Kean forthe last four years, but now she has to give ear t
o Mildred and me,since we met you at Wellington, and she thinks the only way to silenceus is to have something to say about you herself."

  Judy laughed, reassured. "You and Molly are exactly alike, and both ofyou must 'favor your ma.' Well, I'll try not to be in the way, and maybeI can help."

  "Of course you can," said Molly, squeezing her. "You always help wherethere is any planning or arranging or beautifying to be done. But, Kent,tell me, why is Milly in such a rush?"

  "Why, Molly, I am surprised at you, laying it on Mildred. It happens tobe old 'Silence and Fun' who is so precipitate."

  "Who is 'Silence and Fun'?" asked Judy.

  "Oh, he is Milly's fiance, but the Brown boys call him that ridiculousname. He has a fine name of his own, Crittenden Rutledge. But, Kent,please tell me, why this haste?"

  "Well, you see Crit has been ordered out to Iowa by his steelconstruction company, on a bridge-building debauch, and he thought Millymight just as well go on with him and hold the nails while he wields thehammer. Here we are, so put your hat on straight, and look yourprettiest, Miss Judy. I should hate for mother to think that we had beenmisleading her."