I will mention here that Lucy "despised" her own hair for not being straight like Bab's, and had often tried to braid it down her back; but as the braid always came out and the ribbon came off, the attempt had been forbidden.

Now, however, as the children had left their city home and come to a place where everybody was "on holiday," the mammas decided that they might have a little more liberty.

Their dresses were off the same piece,--good, strong brown ones; their hats were alike; and, as for their hair, they were allowed to wear it as they pleased "just for this summer."

"We'll look exactly alike up there in the mountains," the little souls had said to each other; and this was perhaps one reason why they had been so overjoyed at the prospect of going.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

But to-day, ah! who would have dreamed that sweet little Bab could become such a fright? She had done up her hair the night before on as many as twenty curl-papers. Before starting for the air-castle she had taken out some of the papers and found--not ringlets, but wisps of very unruly hair. It would not curl any more than water will run up hill.

She went to Aunt Lucy in her trouble to seek advice. Aunt Lucy looked her over with great care and then announced:--

"It is perfectly awful! Don't take out any more papers, Bab. Let 'em be, so you can have something to stick the curls on to."

And so it was done. The "curls," as Lucy was pleased to call them, were drawn up and looped and twisted and fastened by hair-pins to the other curls left in the papers. The effect was most surprising. It made Bab's head so much higher than usual that she was as tall now as auntie, and that in itself was a great gain. Besides, this style, as Lucy said, was the "pompy-doo," and very fashionable!

If Bab could have kept her hat on! But she couldn't, and the moment it came off they all cried out:--

"Why-ee, Barbara!" and turned away to laugh.

If Mrs. McQuilken had been there she would have said the child looked "as if she was possessed of the fox."

"The little goosies! Let them enjoy it!" whispered Mrs. Hale to Mrs.

Dunlee. "But those topknots will have to come down before the child can go to the dinner-table."

And then both the ladies laughed privately behind a large tree. The mountain air was doing them good, and they often had as merry times together as the young people.

"Hear the boyoes," cried Edith, meaning Jimmy and Nate, who had now reached the air-castle and were shouting with all their might. The children ran, and so indeed did the older ones, for there was an excellent path all the way.

"So that is the air-castle," exclaimed Kyzie, when they were all within sight of it. "It's a real house, built right in the mountain."

She was right. There happened to be a great crack right here in the rocky side of the mountain, and a cunning little house had been tucked into the crack. It was built of small stones. It had two real windows with gla.s.s panes, and a real door with a bra.s.s knocker, which the children declared was "too cute for anything."

"The house is as strong as a fort," said Uncle James. "Do you observe it is walled all around with stones?"

"Do you know who built it?" asked Aunt Vi; "and why he built it?"

"A rich Mexican named Bandini. He admired the view from the mountain, and I don't blame him, do you? He wanted a nice, quiet place where he could read and write; that was why he came here. He has been here every summer for years."

"Well," said Mr. Dunlee, "if you call this an air-castle I must say it is the most solid one I ever heard of! It doesn't look dreamy at all.

Why, an earthquake could hardly shake it."

"The steps that lead up to it are not dreamy either," said Mrs. Dunlee.

"Real granite; and there's a large flag up there floating from the evergreen tree."

The "boyoes" had already climbed the steps, and Nate called down to Mrs.

Dunlee, "It's the Mexican flag!" But she had known that at a glance. The colors were red, white, and green, and the device was an eagle on a p.r.i.c.kly pear with a snake in his mouth.

"I wonder if there's anybody at home," said Nate, and would have lifted the knocker if Jimmy had not said, "Wait for Uncle James."

Jimmy thought as Uncle James was the leader of the expedition he should be the one to do the knocking, or at any rate to tell them when to knock. Nate himself had not thought of this. He was not so refined as Jimmy, either by nature or by training.

Everybody had climbed the steps now. The older people were enjoying the magnificent view; but Bab and Lucy were looking for the two toads who had been seen going up to the castle together, the well toad taking the lame toad's foot in his mouth.

"I wish they were both here," said Uncle James, "for you would like to see them take that little journey."

"And the Mexican who built this air-castle," said Aunt Vi, "is he here this summer?"

"No, he died last spring."

"Died?" echoed little Eddo, who had heard that dying means "going up in the sky." "What made him die, mamma? Didn't he like it down here?"

Then without waiting for a reply he added most tenderly and unexpectedly, "Isn't it nice that _you're_ not dead, mamma?"

"Why do you think that, my son?" she asked, wondering what he would say.

"Oh, _be_-cause I _am_ so glad about it." And at this sweet little speech his mother caught him up in her arms and kissed him. How could she help it?

"Now," said Uncle James, "let us see if we can enter the castle. 'Open locks whoever knocks.' Try it, boys."

Nate lifted the knocker and pounded with a will. There was no answer or sign of life.

"Let's see if this will help us," said Uncle James, taking a key from his vest pocket:--

"For I'm the keeper of the keys, And I do whatever I please."

The key actually fitted the lock, the door opened at once, and they all entered the castle.

"Mr. Templeton lent me the key," explained Mr. Sanford. "He said the castle was as empty as a last year's bird's nest, but I thought we might like to take a look at it."

"We do, oh, we do," said Lucy. "Isn't it queer? Just two rooms and nothing in 'em at all! Oh, Bab, let's you and I bring some dishes up here and keep house! Here's a cupboard right in the wall."

"I guess it's Mother Hubbard's cupboard, it looks bare enough. Just a table in the room and one old chair," exclaimed Edith.

"I'm glad we came in, though," said Kyzie. "Isn't it beautiful to stand in the door and look down, down, and see Castle Cliff right at your feet? And off there a city--Why, what's that noise?"

No one answered. The older people knew the sound: it was that of an angry rattlesnake out of doors shaking his rattle.

Mr. Dunlee said:--

"Stay in the house, please, you ladies, and keep the children here.

James and I will go out and attend to this."

He had an alpenstock, Uncle James a cane. The ladies and Mr, Hale and the children watched the two gentlemen from the window,--all but little Eddo, whose mother was playing bo-peep with him to prevent him from looking out. A handsome rattlesnake was winding his way up the mountain in pursuit of a tiny baby rabbit. The little "cotton-tail" was running for the castle as fast as he could, intending to hide in a hole under the door-stone. But he never would have reached the door-stone alive, poor little trembling creature, if Mr. Dunlee and Uncle James had not come up just in time to finish the cruel snake with cane and alpenstock.

Bunny got away safe, without even stopping to say, "Thank you." The snake wore seven rattles, of which he was very proud; but Eddo had them next day for a plaything, and made as much noise with them as ever the snake had done; though Eddo never knew where they came from.

It had been a delightful day, and when the friends all met again at table they kept saying, "Didn't we have a good time?"