The Four-Story Mistake Read Free Page B

Willy.
    â€œNo transportation,” groaned Father. “Mrs. Oliphant’s lending us her station wagon but it won’t get here till Thursday. The nearest village is three miles away, and it’s raining pitchforks.”
    â€œCan’t we phone, then?”
    â€œPhone’s not in yet,” said Father unhappily. “The man said he’d come today, but of course he didn’t.”
    But Cuffy decided that Mr. Melendy had been punished enough.
    â€œWell, I brought some odds and ends along in one of my bags,” she said. “Leftovers from the kitchen. Didn’t want to leave ’em for them new people! Maybe I can throw something together.”
    Father and Willy proceeded up the stairs relieved, and the children followed at their heels. The house was so big that there was a bedroom for each of them and even one left over in case they had a guest. They ran about exploring one another’s rooms. “Look, mine has a window seat,” shouted Randy; and then feeling that she was being disloyal to their last house, she added, “But I liked the wallpaper in my old one best.”
    Mona said, “Mine has a little alcove and I’m going to make a dressing table to fit into it. A real one with a ruffle, and a powder box on it that plays music.”
    Rush said, “Mine has a tree outside it that I think I can climb down.”
    Oliver said, “Mine is for me all by myself and nobody else.” He had always slept in the same room with Cuffy before.
    And Father said, “ Mine is down at the end of the corridor, and quiet as the tomb.” He sounded very happy about that.
    Then Cuffy called them and they all went down to the kitchen and had a strange, interesting supper of shredded wheat with brown sugar and condensed milk on it, hot cocoa, canned peaches, and cookies that tasted of cardboard box.
    The kitchen was bigger and higher than the one at home and the stove had a sort of black metal canopy over it, very royal. Out of doors the wind howled and the rain lashed, and right in the middle of supper the lights went out!
    It was wonderful; the children loved it. “Blackout! Take cover, men! The Messerschmitts are overhead!” hissed Rush dramatically.
    â€œGuess a wire’s blew down somewheres,” said Willy’s voice.
    â€œThat’s right. I wonder if it often happens in storms out here?” said Father. “Come on, Willy, there are some candles in a box in the front room. Help me find them, will you?”
    In springing to obey Willy fell over a packing case and smashed two jelly glasses and the kitchen teapot.
    â€œNobody move,” Cuffy ordered the children like a policeman. “I don’t want nobody getting cut on glass. Soon’s we have a light I’ll clean it up.”
    They all sat in the dark and went on with their supper.
    â€œIt’s interesting eating in the dark,” Randy remarked. “Things taste different. They taste more. ”
    Oliver just sat quiet with his plate in his lap. It was dark, it was strange: there they all were together inside the fortress. Outside in the enemy night the foe pressed toward the house: Nazis, Iroquois Indians, pirates, robbers, it didn’t matter which. All four probably. When they got too real he put out a cautious hand, and sure enough there was Cuffy beside him. The enemy sank back affrighted.
    Father and Willy reappeared with lighted candles in their hands. They were like naturalists returning with rare orchids from the jungle; there was a quiet pride about them. At that very instant the lights came on again!
    â€œHave you ever noticed how the sun comes out if you carry an umbrella on a cloudy day?” said Father.
    After supper they all had baths in the two new bathrooms. They all brushed their teeth over the new basins. Each said good night and padded into his new paint-smelling bedroom.
    Randy lay in her own old bed that she was used to. It was still raining: