Dixie Martin, the Girl of Woodford's Cañon Read online

  CHAPTER ONE DIXIE

  "Carolina Martin, you get up this instant. Do you hear me? I've calledyou sixteen times already, if 'tisn't twenty, and _this_ the morning thenew teacher starts at the old log schoolhouse over at Woodford's. Youdon't want us all to be late, do you, and have her think we'reshiftless, like the poor white folks our mother used to tell about, inthe mountains down in Tennessee. We, with the bluest blood in our veinsthat flows in the whole South! Carolina, _are you up_?"

  This conversation was carried on in a high-pitched voice by a thin,homely, freckled-faced little girl whose straight brick-red hair had nota wave in it, and whose long, skinny legs, showing beneath the ginghamdress two years too short for her, made her appear as ungainly as acolt.

  There was no one else present in the big living-room of the log cabin,but the voice carried well, and was heard in the loft above, where, in alarge four-posted bed, another small girl sleepily replied, "Oh, Dixie,I wish folks never did have to get up, nor go to school, nor--" Thevoice trailed off drowsily, and Carolina had just turned over foranother little nap when she heard her sister climbing the ladder whichled from the room below to the loft where the two girls slept.

  Instantly the culprit leaped to the floor. When the red head of Dixieappeared at the square opening of the trap-door, the small girl wasmaking great haste to don her one piece of all-over underwear.

  She smiled her sweetest at her irate sister, whose wrath softened, forlittle Carolina was so like their beautiful mother. Even at eight yearsof age she had the languid manner of the South, and spoke with a musicaldrawl.

  But there was no envy in the heart of the older girl. She waspassionately glad that one of them was so like that adored mother whohad died soon after the birth of her youngest child, who now was fouryears old.

  The father, an honest, hardy Nevada mountaineer, had been killed in araid two years later, and since then Dixie, aged twelve, had been littlemother and home-maker for the other three children.

  Before Dixie could rebuke the younger sister, a door below opened and ababy voice called shrilly, "Oh, Dix, do come quick! Suthin's a-runnin'over on the stove."

  "It's the porridge." The older girl sniffed the air, which conveyed toher the scent of something burning. Down the ladder she scrambled.

  "Well, lucky stars!" she exclaimed a moment later as she removed thekettle and gave the contents a vigorous stirring.

  "'Tisn't stuck to the bottom, that's one comfort." Then, whirling about,she caught the little four-year-old boy in her arms as she exclaimed,"And so our Jimmikins is going to school to-day for the very firsttime."

  The small head, covered with sunny curls, nodded, and his eyes twinkledas he proudly prattled: "I'll stan' up front and I'll spell c-a-t, andever'thin', won't I, Dixie?"

  "Of course you will, pet lamb, and maybe the teacher will ask you torecite, and won't she be surprised to find that you know seven speakingpieces?"

  While Dixie talked she was dishing up the porridge. She glanced at theladder and sighed. Would she have to climb it again? What _could_ bekeeping Carolina? But just then a foot appeared and slowly theredescended the member of the family who was always late. She had beenbrushing her soft golden-brown curls in front of their one mirror. Apretty circling comb held them in place.

  Carol wore a faded gingham dress which was buttoned in the front, thatshe might fasten it herself.

  There was a discontented expression in her violet eyes.

  "I just hate this ol' dress," she began fretfully. "Jessica Archerdoesn't believe we have any blue blood at all, or we'd want to dresslike the Southern ladies do in the pictures."

  Dixie sighed, and the younger girl, who thought only of herself,continued, "If my beautiful mother had lived, she wouldn't have let mewear shabby dresses that button down the front and make everybody laughat me."

  There was much truth in this. Their beautiful mother would have beenquite willing to mortgage the ranch if only she and her children couldbe dressed in silk and furbelows.

  Before Dixie could reply, the cabin-door again opened, and in came a boywho was at least a head taller than Dixie. His frank, freckled face wassmiling. He was carrying a pail. "Dix," he said gleefully, "we're goingto have a real crop of apples this year. I've been down to thecreek-bottom to see how the trees are doing. Maybe they'll fetch inmoney enough so that you can buy that new stove you've been needing solong."

  Carolina tossed her curly head as she thought, "Stove, indeed, when Ineed a new dress." But she said nothing. The apples weren't ripe yet,and she could bide her time.

  They were soon seated around the table, chattering eagerly about the newteacher who had arrived at Woodford's the day before, but whom, as yet,they had not seen.

  "What you 'spose she'll be like?" Ken asked as he helped himself to therich creamy goat's milk, and then turned to pour more of it into the bigbowl for his little brother, who had been hungrily clamoring forporridge.

  Carol sniffed. "I don't like new teachers," she informed them in amanner much older than her years. "They're always startin' somethin'different."

  "You mean that new teachers don't like _you_," Ken put in with brotherlyfrankness. "They would, though, if you'd ever study, which I reckon you_never_ will."

  "You'd ought to learn all you can, Caroly. We all ought to," the littlemother modified, "'cause as soon as we're old enough, we'll want to beearning our own living so we won't always be poor and scrimping like weare now."

  Carolina tossed her curls.

  "'Twon't be needful for _me_ to earn my livin'," she said proudly. "Mrs.Piggins says I'm the kind that always marries young, and I'm goin' tomarry rich, too."

  Ken exploded with amused laughter.

  "Hear the baby prattle!" he teased. "You'd better be thinkin' about yourdolls, seems like to me."

  The all-too-easily-aroused temper of the younger girl flared.

  "Ken Martin, you know I haven't played with dolls, not since I was sevenyears old, and now I'm eight."

  The violet eyes flashed and the pretty lips quivered.

  The heart of Ken always melted when he saw tears.

  "Oh, I say, Caroly," he begged. "Don't get a mad on. Honest Injun, crossmy heart, I won't tease you any more----er----that is, not again thismorning, anyhow," he added, wishing to be truthful.

  Then, knowing from past experience that the best way to dry up tears wasto interest the doleful one in something different, he exclaimed asthough he had suddenly thought of it: "Girls, what'll we give as apresent for new teacher? The fellows were all sayin' yesterday whatthey're goin' to give."

  The ruse worked like a charm. Carol looked across the table at herbrother with eager interest.

  "That horrid Jessica Archer says there's nobody in the school as isgoing to give new teacher as handsome a present as she is. Her mothertook her over to Reno to pick it out. Jessica says as all the otherpupils will give country presents, but hers'll be _city_."

  "Huh!" grunted the older brother. "What's that little minx goin' to giveteacher that's so fine? That's what I'd like to know."

  The curls were shaken as the owner of them replied: "She won't tell.It's a secret, but she's boastin' as it cost more'n all the otherpresents put together'll cost."

  "Well, dearie, like as not she's right," the older girl said soothingly."Jessica Archer's father's the richest man anywhere in these mountains.You know how folks call him a sheep-king."

  Then, as Dixie was always trying to have her charges see things in theright way, she continued: "Anyhow, it isn't the money a present coststhat counts. It's the love that goes with it."

  Selfish Carol was not convinced. "I'd rather have a blue silk dress_without_ love than I would another ol' gingham like this one with--"

  She was interrupted by Ken, who burst in with: "Oh, I say, Dix, I'vejust thought of the peachiest present. You know that littleblack-and-white kid that came a while ago."

  The girls had stopped eating, and were listening
with eyes as well asears.

  "Yeah, I know, b-but what of it?" Dixie inquired.

  The boy's words fairly tumbled out in his excitement.

  "I bet teacher'd like _him_ for a present. I bet she would. Like as not,comin' from New York City the way she does, she's never had a goat for apet, and this one's awful pretty, with that white star on his blackforehead."

  Dixie looked uncertain. "It _would_ be different, but--" she started toprotest, when noting her brother's crestfallen expression, she hastenedto add, "Come to think of it, now, a little goat might be lots ofcompany for new teacher, she being so strange and all.

  "You go get the goat, Ken, and saddle Pegasus while I tidy up thekitchen and dress Jimmikins. Then we'll all be ready to start forschool."

  "I've got an ol' red ribbon that'll look handsome on that little goat'sneck," Carol told them. "That'll make it look more presentish, seemslike."

  "Of course it will, dear. Go get it and give it to Ken, though I guessmaybe you'd better tie the bow. You've got a real knack at making thempretty."

  The little mother always tried to show appreciation of any talent thatmight appear, however faintly, in one of her precious brood.

  A moment later all was hurry and scurry in the homey kitchen of that oldlog house, for this was a red-letter morning in the lives of the fourlittle Martins.