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Long Tails · The Bobbsey Twins at Cherry Corners

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  Chapter nineteen of The Bobbsey Twins at Cherry Corners by Laura Lee Hope. This
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  LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Long Tails bur Bobbsey was so surprised
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  by Nick's act that, after his first sudden cry, which did no good,
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  he just stood there staring at the overturned pail of cherries. The other
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  boy laughed as he passed on, with the latter muttering, you want to
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  keep out of the way when I come past. I'm in a hurry.
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  Watch out for yourself. It was on the tip of Bert's tongue to shout
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  something back at Nick and then to run after him and perhaps get into a
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  fight with him. When another voice called, wait a minute, there,
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  young man. Both boys turned to see mister Overton, one of the farm
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  foremen, coming up through the orchard. Pick up those cherries and put them
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  back in that pail, ordered mister Overton, pointing a stern finger at Nick.
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  They aren't my cherries, was Nick's answer. I know, it went
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  on, mister Overton. They belonged to this boy. Your name is Bobbsey,
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  isn't it, yes, sir, answered Bert, will you pick them
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  up? Nick? You spilled them and you're going to pick them up.
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  He got in my way and this ladder hit his pail. Blustered Nick.
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  I didn't do it on purpose. Yes you did, declared the foreman.
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  I was watching, and I saw you deliberately go out of your way to
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  bang that ladder against this bobbsey boy's pail and knock it over. It was
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  a mean trick, and if you try any more like it, you'll lose
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  your job around here. Now, pick up those cherries before I call mister
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  Winton. Bert was glad enough to keep still now and allow the foreman to
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  make matters right. He knew Nick had done the trick on purpose. Come
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  on now, ordered mister Overton. Sharply as Nick stood there, put that
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  ladder down and pick up those cherries. All What do you want to get
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  in my way for? Growled Nick. I couldn't help banging his pail.
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  I know better than that, and so do you, was the cool answer
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  of the foreman. No more words. Pick up those cherries. Nick,
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  with a growl, put down the ladder, and, getting on his hands
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  and knees, began gathering the fruit. Luckily, most of the cherries had
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  fallen on clean grass, where they came to no harm, and Bert's pail
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  was nearly as full as at first when Nick's task was completed. Take them
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  to the ticket shed, now you, bobbsey, suggested the foreman. And
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  if this lad bothers you again, let me know, all right, was
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  Bert's reply. But I don't believe he will, went on the foreman.
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  If he does, he'll be out of a job. To this, Nick
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  did not answer, but there was an ugly look on his face as he
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  walked on with the ladder, and Bert felt that the other lad would make
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  trouble for him if he could. Nick was not seen again that day in
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  the part of the orchard where where Bert was put to work. Probably he
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  was sent to pick in another section so he would not have a chance to
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  play more tricks. As for Bert, he worked hard picking cherries. Now
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  that he had earned enough in his father's orchard to buy himself a new fishing
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  rod, he had made up his mind to buy a new reel as well,
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  in order to wind up his line when he caught a fish. When
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  he was smaller, any sort of pole and line did for Bert, he
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  did not bother with the reel to take up his line when he got a
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  bite. He just pulled the fish up out of the water with a sudden
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  jerk. But I'm going to be a regular fisherman when I grow up.
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  Bert told Nan that evening and regular fishermen have reels, so I'll get me
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  a new one. I'll come over and help you pick cherries in mister Winton's
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  orchard if you want me to. Bert's sister offered, thanks, but I
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  guess you'd better not. Bert decided there are a lot of rough boys there
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  besides Nick, and they might make trouble. I can pick enough by myself
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  to get money for a real In spite of what mister Overton had said to
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  Nick about discharging that lad if he played any more tricks, Bert was on
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  the lookout for trouble, and when he had his pail or basket filled with
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  cherries, he took care that the peddler's boy was not around when it was
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  carried to the shed. One afternoon, two days after he had started work
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  in the winter and orchard, Bert was on his way back to Redgate Farm
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  when he heard down in a grassy lane that extended out to the main road,
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  the voices of Flossie and Freddy in dispute. I'm going to take the
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  money, Freddy was saying. No, I am, declared Flossie. I
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  made the most juice, and I'm going to take the money. The man
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  always takes in the money, insisted her brother. You can fill the glasses.
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  I wonder what those two tykes are up to now, thought Bert with
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  a smile. As he walked on, hurrying to get past a clump of
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  bushes at the road end of the lane, he heard a startled cry,
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  and then Freddy said, there, now see what you did? You upset
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  everything. You did it yourself, wailed Flossy. It was plain that both
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  children were crying, and a moment later the two small Bobbsey twins came running
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  out toward the road, and Bert was much surprised when he saw their faces
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  covered with red spots and streaks. They must have fallen down and cut themselves,
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  he thought, as he ran forward, crying, what's the matter,
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  Freddie, are you hurt? Flossy? What happened? He wouldn't let me
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  take in the money, sobbed the little girl. I wanted her to dish
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  out the juice, was Freddy's answer. The way you look, you both
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  need a doctor. Exclaimed Bert, and he was afraid the children had been
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  badly cut in a fall, But when he got close to them, he
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  saw that they were covered with red cherry juice. Then he looked down the
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  lane and saw where the two had set up a little roadside stand, as
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  sometimes children erect for the sale of lemonade. But in the case of Flossie
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  and Freddy, the stand was upset in place of being set up a pitcher,
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  and some glasses were scattered about, while red cherry juice was splattered everywhere.
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  It was some of this juice that had gotten on the faces of the
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  younger twins. Now keep still and tell me about it, said Bert,
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  when he found out the two were not hurt. Wetting his handkerchief in a
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  little brook that ran at the side of the road, he washed the faces
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  of his brother and sister. We squeezed out a lot of cherry juice,
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  explained Freddy. And mother said we could sell it out at the road if
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  anybody wanted to stop and buy it. But FLOSSI wouldn't. What wouldn't she
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  do, asked Bert. She wouldn't dish out the juice and let me take
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  in the money. Went on Freddy I would have given her half. Anyhow,
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  I wanted to take in the money, and he wouldn't let me,
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  declared Flossie. So I said I wouldn't play, and then she got up
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  to go home. Freddie took up the story, and I grabbed hold of
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  her dress, and she pulled away, and the stand upset and I got
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  all the cherry juice, wailed Flossy. Well, never mind, consoled Bert.
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  You aren't hurt, and I guess the juice won't do your clothes any
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  harm. I got most of it off your faces, he added with a
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  laugh as he looked at his stained and wet handkerchief. And anyhow, I
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  don't believe many people would stop and buy cherry juice when there are so many
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  cherries to be had for the asking around here. Well, anyhow, we
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  haven't got any juice to sell now, because it's all spilled, sighed Freddie.
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  So ended the venture which the small twins made into trade. Their mother
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  had not thought they would sell much cherry juice when they begged for permission to
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  set up a new kind of lemonade stand, but she did not want to
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  disappoint them, so she let them try. They had got some partly crushed
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  cherries from the sorting shed, and Dinah gave them a potato masher with which
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  they crushed out more juice, straining it through a sieve. Then they put
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  it into a pitcher, and with glasses arranged their stand. They certainly were
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  a queer looking sight when I met them, chuckled Bert, after he had
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  led the two little ones home. Anyhow, I didn't mean to help Flossie
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  upset the stands, said Freddy. And she can play with my fire engine
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  if she wants to, and you can hold my best doll if you like,
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  added Flossie. Freddie was quite a little man, and too polite to
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  say that he did not care for dolls, which he did not. Nor
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  did Flossi take much interest in the fire engine, though she did not say
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  so to her twin keeping such an opinion for NaN's ears, The excitement over
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  the upset cherry juice stand was forgotten the next morning, when as Daddy Bobbsey
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  was on his way to take the train for Lakeport, where he had to
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  go to attend to some business. He called out into the hall, has
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  anyone taken my knife? Your knife? Why? No, answered his wife.
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  Where did you last have it. I laid it out on my bureau
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  so I wouldn't forget to take it this morning, said mister Bobbsey. But
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  now it's gone. Did you take it? Bert? No, Dad,
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  was the answer. I have a knife of my own, how about you,
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  Nan. I didn't touch it, nor even see it, Daddy.
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  Neither Flossie nor Freddy had seen their father's knife, And as mister Bobbsey was
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  sure he had left it on the bureau, his wife said it was taken
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  just as Bert's watch was. And my cameo, pen, I really think
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  something must be done about this. It's that Nick Dodge, declared Bert.
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  We can't be sure about that, replied his father. Wait until I get
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  back and I'll look into this. Too. Many things are being missed around
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  here. If Nick or any of the other strange cherry pickers is to blame,
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  we must put a stop to it. Then mister Bobbsey hurried for his
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  train, and Bert went over to the other farm to pick more cherries for
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  those remaining on the trees at Redgate would not be ready to gather for a
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  few more days. It was when he was on his way home to lunch,
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  taking a short cut through a little patch of woods that Bert met his
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  sister Nan. She had been to the store in the village for Dinah,
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  and when Bert saw her, she was running fast. What's your hurry,
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  he asked. It's too hot to run, Oh Bert, I am so
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  frightened, gasped Nan, turning toward him. Frightened, he exclaimed, has
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  that Nick Dodge been teasing you? If he has, no, it wasn't
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  Nick, gasped Nan. Oh Bert is an animal with a long tail.
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  Two or three animals back there in the woods. What kind of animals?
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  Cried Bert. All I could see was their tails, panted Nan, Such
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  long tails as they had, all curl and covered with hair. Oh Bert,
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  I am so frightened. End of Chapter nineteen, read by Martha Heaton,
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  September twenty twenty three.