tired, rugged face pointed back up the hill.
“Thanks!” said Jack.
The large wooden wheels of the wagon rumbled past, splashing Jack and Annie with mud.
“Yuck!” said Annie.
“Now we’re cold and wet and
dirty
,” said Jack.
“Yeah, we’re going to look great when we get to the Big House,” said Annie.
“So what do we do when we get there?” asked Jack.
“When we find Augusta, maybe we tell her that Teddy and Kathleen sent us,” said Annie, “like we told Louis Armstrong in New Orleans.”
Just thinking about their adventure with Louis Armstrong made Jack smile. “I don’t know if that will work,” he said. “His world seemed so different from this world. There it was so noisy and busy. Here it feels lonely.”
“Well, we won’t know until we find Augusta,” said Annie. “Let’s go.”
Jack and Annie lowered their heads. They plodded up the lane, sloshing in and out of giant puddles. When they reached the top of the hill, they stopped. The muddy lane wound down, past more sheep meadows and some cottages, past a long stable and several barns.
At the end of the lane was a large open gate that led onto the grounds of a white mansion. Gray smoke rose from the mansion’s chimneys.
“The Big House!” said Annie.
“Maybe the people who live there will invite us inside to get warm and dry by a fire,” said Jack.
Jack and Annie started down the lane. As they passed the sheep meadows, black-and-white dogs barked at them. When they walked by several boys hauling wet hay, the workers looked up and eyed them suspiciously.
Jack was relieved to get to the gate and head toward the Big House. When they reached the front door, Annie lifted the heavy knocker and let it drop.
A moment later, the door opened. A pale teenage girl looked out. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Uh … well …,” started Jack.
“Are you the ones the butler sent for?” the girl asked.
“The butler?” said Jack.
“Yes, we are!” said Annie.
“Then you should go round to the
back
!” the girl said. Before Jack or Annie could ask for Augusta, the girl slammed the door in their faces.
“Nice,” said Jack.
“I hope
she
wasn’t Augusta,” said Annie.
“Why did you tell her ‘yes’?” asked Jack.
“It’s a way to get inside the Big House,” said Annie. “Come on.”
Jack and Annie tramped through the mud to the back of the mansion. They stopped at a door beneath a large smoking chimney. Annie knocked again.
This time a young red-haired girl in a cap and apron opened the door. “Yes?” she said.
“Is your name—” started Annie.
“Who is it, Molly?” someone called from inside.
Molly? So
she’s
not Augusta
, thought Jack.
“Who are you?” Molly asked them.
“We’re the ones the butler sent for,” said Annie.
“You?” said Molly. She looked doubtful. “Well, come in and see him then.”
Jack and Annie stepped inside.
“He’s in the kitchen,” said Molly. She started down the hall.
Jack and Annie followed Molly to the doorway of a dimly lit kitchen. The kitchen smelled of fish and onions. Pots and pans hung from a long rack over a big wooden table. A stout older woman was bent over the table, rolling out dough.
“Cook, here are the ones the butler sent for,” said Molly.
The cook looked up from her dough and squinted at Jack and Annie. “
You’re
the ones he sent for?” she said.
“Uh, yes, ma’am, that’s us,” said Annie.
The cook turned toward the fireplace. Next tothe fire an ancient-looking man with white whiskers sat slumped in a chair, snoring. “Mr. O’Leary!”
The old man jerked and opened his eyes.
“The ones you sent for are here!” the cook shouted, as if the man were hard of hearing.
The groggy butler peered at Jack and Annie. “I sent for
you
?” he growled. “Not possible! I sent for a coach driver and a blacksmith.”
“Really?” said Annie. “I guess there was a mistake. But maybe there are some other jobs we could do
“Thanks!” said Jack.
The large wooden wheels of the wagon rumbled past, splashing Jack and Annie with mud.
“Yuck!” said Annie.
“Now we’re cold and wet and
dirty
,” said Jack.
“Yeah, we’re going to look great when we get to the Big House,” said Annie.
“So what do we do when we get there?” asked Jack.
“When we find Augusta, maybe we tell her that Teddy and Kathleen sent us,” said Annie, “like we told Louis Armstrong in New Orleans.”
Just thinking about their adventure with Louis Armstrong made Jack smile. “I don’t know if that will work,” he said. “His world seemed so different from this world. There it was so noisy and busy. Here it feels lonely.”
“Well, we won’t know until we find Augusta,” said Annie. “Let’s go.”
Jack and Annie lowered their heads. They plodded up the lane, sloshing in and out of giant puddles. When they reached the top of the hill, they stopped. The muddy lane wound down, past more sheep meadows and some cottages, past a long stable and several barns.
At the end of the lane was a large open gate that led onto the grounds of a white mansion. Gray smoke rose from the mansion’s chimneys.
“The Big House!” said Annie.
“Maybe the people who live there will invite us inside to get warm and dry by a fire,” said Jack.
Jack and Annie started down the lane. As they passed the sheep meadows, black-and-white dogs barked at them. When they walked by several boys hauling wet hay, the workers looked up and eyed them suspiciously.
Jack was relieved to get to the gate and head toward the Big House. When they reached the front door, Annie lifted the heavy knocker and let it drop.
A moment later, the door opened. A pale teenage girl looked out. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“Uh … well …,” started Jack.
“Are you the ones the butler sent for?” the girl asked.
“The butler?” said Jack.
“Yes, we are!” said Annie.
“Then you should go round to the
back
!” the girl said. Before Jack or Annie could ask for Augusta, the girl slammed the door in their faces.
“Nice,” said Jack.
“I hope
she
wasn’t Augusta,” said Annie.
“Why did you tell her ‘yes’?” asked Jack.
“It’s a way to get inside the Big House,” said Annie. “Come on.”
Jack and Annie tramped through the mud to the back of the mansion. They stopped at a door beneath a large smoking chimney. Annie knocked again.
This time a young red-haired girl in a cap and apron opened the door. “Yes?” she said.
“Is your name—” started Annie.
“Who is it, Molly?” someone called from inside.
Molly? So
she’s
not Augusta
, thought Jack.
“Who are you?” Molly asked them.
“We’re the ones the butler sent for,” said Annie.
“You?” said Molly. She looked doubtful. “Well, come in and see him then.”
Jack and Annie stepped inside.
“He’s in the kitchen,” said Molly. She started down the hall.
Jack and Annie followed Molly to the doorway of a dimly lit kitchen. The kitchen smelled of fish and onions. Pots and pans hung from a long rack over a big wooden table. A stout older woman was bent over the table, rolling out dough.
“Cook, here are the ones the butler sent for,” said Molly.
The cook looked up from her dough and squinted at Jack and Annie. “
You’re
the ones he sent for?” she said.
“Uh, yes, ma’am, that’s us,” said Annie.
The cook turned toward the fireplace. Next tothe fire an ancient-looking man with white whiskers sat slumped in a chair, snoring. “Mr. O’Leary!”
The old man jerked and opened his eyes.
“The ones you sent for are here!” the cook shouted, as if the man were hard of hearing.
The groggy butler peered at Jack and Annie. “I sent for
you
?” he growled. “Not possible! I sent for a coach driver and a blacksmith.”
“Really?” said Annie. “I guess there was a mistake. But maybe there are some other jobs we could do
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