“Oh, mother!” sobbed Nat. “We mustn’t expect her back--”
“And she won’t stand for any interference!” groaned Ned.
“And she’s going with the gypsies,” blubbered Tavia.
“Well,” and Mrs. White joined in the laugh that now evolved from the reign of terror. “You children do find more ways of amusing yourselves! But it might not be a bad idea to get ready for luncheon,” with a sly look at Tavia’s uncovered slip. “Those pigeons seem to have rather upset the regime.”
“I’m off!” shouted Tavia, with a bound over the low rail of the porch.
“I’m on!” added Nat making himself comfortable on the “tete” beneath the honey-suckle vines.
“I’m in!” remarked Ned, as he slipped into the hammock.
“And I’m out!” declared Dorothy, with a light laugh, as she jumped off the steps “out” into the path, then was gone to follow the suggestion of her Aunt Winnie, for Dorothy had learned that to follow the house rules was the most important line in the social code of Mrs. Winthrop White.
Under a clump of trees, near a brook and an open meadow, and beside a broad country road, was pitched the gypsy camp.
This spot was chosen deliberately and with much care. The trees furnished shade for the tents: the brook furnished water for the horses and for housekeeping purposes, the meadow furnished pasture for the cattle, and the roadway furnished trade for the fortune tellers.
Outside the tents were the wagons, with the queer racks, like fire escapes, running from roof to hub. These racks are used at moving time, to carry such stuff as might interfere with the inside “berths” during a long journey, and at other times the racks do service as “store rooms” for articles not needed in the tents.
In one of the wagons Urania had her sleeping quarters which were shared by a baby half brother on such occasions as he chose to climb into the high berth. But little Tommie was a typical gypsy, and often preferred to cuddle up at the root of a pine tree rather than to “hump” up in hot pillows in the wagon on summer nights.
So Urania never looked for him--if he were not in bed he must be asleep somewhere, she knew, so in real Nomad philosophy, Tommie never looked for Urania, and Urania never looked for Tommie,--the wisdom of living independently comes very early to members of their class.