T T
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small, grass-covered valley snug
gled at the bottom of several
Wooded hills and here was located
their dining room. The greater
portion of the valley was covered
by a group of towering redwood
trees growing in a huge circle
some hundred feet across. These
giants were circled w_th a wall of
matted brush and trees. On the
Southern side of this circle of age-
old evergreens there was an open
ing in the wall of brush. This arch
like opening served as a door to
this magnificent “cathedral,” for
So it was called by the little
Methodist church just ten miles
over the hills in Aptos. The earth
Within the shadows of this living
cathedral sloped downward from
the ring of trees forming a bowl.
From the very center of the entire
formation rose a gigantic, fire
scarred stump which was the fath
er of the ring of giants surround
ing it and the remains of a mon
strous redwood that had long ago
succumbed to its one great enemy:
fire.
“Maybe,” replied her husband
as he thought momentarily of his
own youth, “but I think they have
something in the wind.”
And there was something in the
light afternoon breeze that whis
pered through the boys’ “dining
room.” It was the smell of food,
the odor of. the evergreens, the
crackling 0.1 a fire, and the laugh
ter of two happy boys. The dry
redwood leaves had been raked
away from the center of the stump
and a small fire was burning. Eggs
were boiling in a rusty tin can,
potatoes were roasting in the
ashes, and several sausages from
the home cellar hung over the fire
from a slender branch. Though the
lunch was prepared in a short
time, even less time was required
to eat it; and it was not long be
fore the boys were wiping sticky
peach juice from their pocket
knives, burying the egg shells and
potato skins, and replacing the
leaves.
“Oh say! wouldn’t Reverend
Edwards howl if he knew we built
fires in his mighty pulpit,” laughed
Herbert setting his sack down by
the majestic, fire-blackened stump
that was at least twice as tall as
he. On one side the charred, rotten
Wood had been cleared away and a
small platform erected which was
sturdy enough to support a speak
er. Opposite the pulpit was a large
hole in the side of the stump, large
enough for two stooping boys to
slip through and into the hollow
shell which was at least a dozen
feet across.
“Well, let’s cut the wood,” sug
gested Herbert digging an ax out
ef the leaves that covered the area
'"’ithin the stump. “Then let’s
Eurry up and get the eggs from
Fop’s and get back here.”
Some time later;, when the hot
®un had almost completed its up-
"’ard climb, the boys arrived at the
farm of Mr. Bishop who was better
known as “Pop.” Of course the
Hishop’s were very much surprised
yhen the Marlee boys declined an
hivitation to eat dinner and hur-
ried away with the eggs.
“Guess their father needs them
ia the apples,” suggested Mrs.
Hisbop.
The boys found a sunny spot
just outside the stump and
stretched contentedly out to rest
and listen to the wind in the
branches of the tall trees and the
sounds of birds and insects around
them. Just a little way beyond the
great arch door amid the sur
rounding brush stood a solitary
madronne waving its slender red
limbs slowly as if directing a
symphony. And the efforts of the
tree were not in vain, for as the
breeze got tangled in the lofty
crowns of the redwoods and mur
mured its protests the old giants
lazily replied with creaks and
groans. This to these boys was
music indeed.
Meanwhile mom was still in the
kitchen, as the boys had left her
early that morning. Besides her
ordinary multitude of tasks she
always prepared most of Sunday’s
dinner on Saturday afternoon be
cause “Everything goes wrong,”
she always said, “when I try to
get up a whole dinner Sunday
morning.”
Right in mother’s garden by the
kitchen. Stubby slept peacefully
throughout the afternoon in a very
comfortable hole he had dug. In
the late afternoon he suddenly sat
up with a twitching nose and in
quiring ears. From the orchard be
low the house the dull thumping
of apples could be heard as Mr.
Marlee picked hand after hand
full and rolled them into wooden
boxes. But it was not the thump
ing which aroused Stubby, for he
was looking toward the barn and
the pasture wihich spread below it.
Then he heard it again:
“Ka, koo, koo,” came the quiet
call of a quail far down below the
barn.
Stubby sprang from his hole
with a growl and a bark, and dis
appeared behind the barn.
“There’s the boys,” thought
Mrs. Marlee peering out of the
kitchen window at a few lazy
clouds of dust marking the dog’s
path.
Down in the shadows of the for
est Herbert and Martin hurried
along, eggs in hand. Martin’s lips
puckered to whistle and the call of
a quail again pierced the forest
and crossed the hills. It was
answered by the distant barking
of Stubby. A few moments later
the three met at the pasture fence
and Stubby eagerly welcomed the
boys with wriggling efforts to lick
their faces.
“Down Stubby-boy! Down!”
they laughed holding the bags of
fragile eggs high. The fence was
scaled and the blank stare of a
bull’s skull that was mounted on
a fence post seemed to watch the
boys and the playful dog climb the
pasture hill, and approach the
kitchen door.
“. . . And they said they’re
coming up to see us next Wednes
day night,” said Herbert as the
boys recounted part of the day’s
adventures to their mother.
“And Pop gave me some more
bullets,” added Martin.
“Well, good,” said Mother in
specting the eggs.
“There’s three extras in the bags
that Mrs. Bishop gave you,” re
membered Herbert.
“Fine,” said the Mother. “Now
I shall have enough to make cup
cakes.” And she looked fondly at
the happy boys as she said, “Now
run and help your father scatter
the empty boxes for Monday’s
work and haul in today’s apples
before time to do your night
chores.”
HILLTOP—PAGE NINE
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