An Evening To Remember

       

For the first time in four whole years, the small hollow tree was going to have important visitors. Though its inhabitants, the hedgehogs, thought that this tree made a great house, others of a more refined and high-educated tastes might think it quite plain. So, Ma was determined to make the house cleaner and more respectable than it had ever been nor yet dreamed it might possibly be.

The hedgehogs Opal and Sara Tablecloth who lived in the house with their Ma and brother Timothy heartily enjoyed the cleaning processes that accompanied the daily house-cleaning routine, but the extent to which this occupation was currently being practiced even they were ready to call extreme. Everything was scrubbed and polished with acute care at least three times a day, and the floor was swept every single evening. Needless to say, when the day came that the visitors were to arrive, everyone was pleased, happy, and excited. Their guests were actually their cousins, and they lived in the Various Unknown Places to the North. They were passing rapidly though the Mountain and the Forest and then the Plain and into the Various Unknown Places to the South, and since they were, after all, their own cousins, of course they had to at least stop by. The air seemed to be practically lit up with excitement. They had not seen the cousins in four years.

Furthermore, Ma was too busy to do any school, and their guests were expected late in the evening, so towards the afternoon, Opal found herself sadly lacking in amusement. Besides, something was worrying her, so she found Timothy and told him, “Ma’s been so busy cleaning that we haven’t found anything to eat for dinner tonight. Should I go to the Plain and look for something? I’ve heard that it’s nice and grassy out there.”

Timothy, the oldest and therefore a source of much esteemed wisdom, replied, “Yes, of course. I’d forgotten about that. . .”

 “Alright, then!” said Opal eagerly. A trip to the Plain would be a great way to find food as well as a fun activity. She started off as soon as she finished listening to Timothy’s detailed warning to get back before five o’clock.

 Some time after her departure, Timothy saw a titmouse hopping hesitantly towards him holding a message.

 “Are you a Tablecloth?” asked the bird.

 “Yes I am,” said Timothy.

 The titmouse (shy things that they always are) handed him the message and flapped hastily away. Timothy ran to find Ma and tell her about it.

As he opened the door, a great steamy cloud rolled out to meet him. Inside, he could hardly see six feet all around. Ma was washing a window with extremely hot water, but she seemed glad for the distraction in the form of the letter which Timothy brought.

Seconds later, she announced, “My, gracious! They’re coming early!”

 “Oh good!” said Timothy, pleased and happy.

 Ma, however, finding her schedule upset-ed, was less ecstatic over the news but, determined to be flexible, she began assigning jobs.

 “Timothy, the floor must be swept and I haven’t the time. Remember to do it well and very thorough. Sara, go tell Opal to go and get some grass from the Plain so I can make a Grass Soup. . .”

 “Oh, but Ma,” interjected Timothy, “she’s already gone. But I thought we had more time, so I said for her to be back by five.”

 “I see!” said Ma. “Well, Sara, go to the Plain and tell Opal to get back as quick as at all possible and not to go lingering about thinking we’ve got until five.”

 Sara headed out, no doubt pleased to be in the open air. Timothy swept the floor with a light heart.

 Meanwhile, Opal walked slowly though the Forest, enjoying the early spring scenery. There was not a blade of grass upon the ground here, though she looked carefully. Perhaps the Plain was greener than this. She had heard good reports of the assorted chickadees and house wrens that had been passing by and were in the mood or a nice talk. Chickadees and house wrens usually were.

 And anyway, the Plain was a good place to visit. It was undeniably spacious and a very pleasant temperature. Besides, it was fun to run around in.

 Suddenly, a voice asked, “What are you doing?”

 Opal claimed afterwards that she had never been more startled in her life when a fluffy red squirrel came dropping down out of a tree and bounding towards her.

 “I suppose I’m walking,” replied Opal, very flustered and slightly confused.

 The squirrel thought for the briefest moment, then continued, “That’s quite true, isn’t it? I am too! What’s your name? I’m Samantha Napkins, and it’s great to meet you!”

 “Oh, thank you,” Opal hoped that she looked modest and not at all prideful at the complement. “I’m Opal Tablecloth.”

 The squirrel giggled. “How funny. Our names are both things that you put on a table.”

 Opal realized that this was true. She giggled too. “Yes, that’s such a coincidence, or maybe table-names are more popular now.”

 “That is a possibility,” agreed Samantha.

 “I was looking for grass to eat,” said Opal.

 “Can I help?” Samantha asked hopefully.

 “Sure. That would be welcome,” said Opal.

 “Where shall we start?” asked Samantha. “I certainly don’t see any green grass here.”

 “What about over there,” Opal announced, pointing towards a tall spruce tree.

 “Great!” said Samantha. She bounced over to the tree and was about to climb up it when she paused and thought.

 “I guess grass would not grow in trees,” said Samantha.

 It certainly seemed that it would not. All the grass that Opal had ever seen had been on the ground, firmly rooted. “I agree with you,” said Opal politely.

 “I see some, though, said Samantha, pointing upwards.

 In the tree there could be seen a strange sort of grassy vine that did not look like the usual kind of grass at all.

 “It doesn’t look right,” said Opal. “Let’s go on. I suppose that it’s not the right sort of grass.”

 “It isn’t on the ground, too,” said Samantha, “like all the stuff I’ve seen. Maybe it’s some sort of vine. It sure did look like grass, though.”

 “It sure did,” agreed Opal, as they started off once more.

 “Oh! LOOK. I see some,” Samantha announced some time later. In a moment, she was up on top of a hill. Opal followed. “I don’t see anything,” she began, but once she came to the top of the hill as well she could see what Samantha was pointing at. Down in the valley, at the foot of the hill, a smooth, perfectly flat pond was spread out. The water was mostly hidden by a sheet of small green plants.

 Samantha, in one gigantic bounce, had reached the edge of the pond and was about to plunge into it in pursuit of a particularly large and green specimen of water-weed. Opal hastily said, “Wait. I don’t think that’s quite the right kind of grass. I don’t think the usual; kind grows in water like that.”

 “You’re right!” exclaimed Samantha. “Isn’t that right, indeed. I had thought that grass was rather too wet and watery looking. Watered Down, if you ask me.”

 “Yes, I see,” Opal agreed. “How did you see that pond, by the way? Wouldn’t the hill obstruct your view?”

 “There was a Rabbit-hole,” said Samantha.

 Later, Sara was still looking for Opal so that things in general could proceed, such as dinner. Ma needed something to make it out of, like grass. At any rate, Opal had probably collected some by now and as soon as they could be brought to Ma she could make a yummy dinner. Opal had gone to the Plain, so Sara decided to look for her there. Maybe Opal was on her way back already and they would meet halfway there.

 South (towards the Plain) was a good place to head. The sun was brighter. The trees looked more green and growing. Sara estimated that there was about half an hour until she reached the Plain. Until then, she could enjoy the scenery. There were very tall trees about and everything had a sort of warm golden glow about it. The sky was blue between the tree branches.

 Sara was the sort of hedgehog that did not mind a peaceful walk in the woods when nothing else that was more practical needed doing. This was one of those times. Once, when she was three years old and very young, she had taken a walk in search of little blackberries. She told Opal afterwards, “I couldn’t enjoy any of the surroundings. The simple fact that I had to be looking for blackberries made everything seem so dull and flat.”

 Opal could not have understood that point of view. Opal could enjoy the scenery any time she wished.

 But this time, secure in the fact that she was supposed to look for her sister when she reached the Plain, it was clear that for the time being Sara did not have any responsibilities whatsoever. Therefore the scenery could safely be enjoyed.

 Sara heard birds singing, but most of them were to far off for her to make out the words, and besides, they were all singing at once anyway. Then she noticed a smooth feathered titmouse sitting silently on a low branch.

 “Why aren’t you singing with them?” asked Sara curiously, pointing to a group of assorted birds singing happily away, each in a different key.

 The titmouse stared at her. There was a long and awkward pause before he finally said, “Oh, it’s too scary. I’m not the outgoing sort.”

 Sara thought about moving on, for if he was not the outgoing sort then he might not appreciate the benefits of conversation. Soon enough, however, she had a thought. She said, “Do you compose? I’ve heard of titmice composing.”

 The titmouse nodded vigorously.

 “Can you sing one for me?” asked Sara.

 The titmouse looked startled and shyer than ever. “Well, you see, I mean, that is, I only compose poems. They’re not much. . .”

 “I don’t mind if they’re not much. Can I hear one?” asked Sara.

 “Well,” said the titmouse, “I’ll tell you my latest. It’s called ‘With Generosity.’

 “With Generosity my mother cooks for me and all my family;

 “With Love that is unending like all the waves upon the sea.”

“That’s good!” exclaimed Sara in admiration. “Really good. I couldn't have done it half so well. But I guess I should be going now though. Have a nice day!”

 She had just remembered the Plain, her sister, and the delayed dinner, all of which she had forgotten in her quest for conversation.

 “Oh, thank you. You too.” said the titmouse shyly.

 Sara hurried on, hoping that the Plain was near so that she could find Opal in time for dinner.

 When she left the group of singing birds far behind, the Forest became still and quiet except for the droning and buzzing of various bugs, all enjoying the sun. There was no wind. Sara fell into an immersive scenery-enjoying reverie that one was not easily distracted from. The Plain was at least ten minutes away.

 So, she felt some annoyance when someone asked very distractingly, “Hello. Who are you?”

 Sara suddenly saw a very young fox standing in front of her, and the annoyance quickly dissipated to be replaced with a sort of panic. Did foxes like eating hedgehogs? She couldn't remember.

 “I see grass!” shouted Samantha, bouncing ahead.

 Opal looked around. “What? Where?” She decided not to get her hopes up until she knew that there really was grass. She had known Samantha long enough to know that said Samantha had a great deal of imagination and optimism, but she sometimes jumped to conclusions a tiny bit.

 Opal caught up with Samantha, who held a rock in her paw and was studying it with the air of one solving a great mystery.

 “What is it?” Opal wondered.

 “This,” said Samantha grandly, “is not grass. I fear I was mistaken.” Then, resuming her usual cheerful tones, she continued, “But it does look like it though, just a little.”

 Opal looked at the small, grey-green stuff growing on the rock and said, “I don’t know what kind of plant that is.”

 “Me neither,” said Samantha, dropping the rock. “But it doesn’t look like it would taste very good. Let’s go on.”

 Opal agreed but wished very much that they would find something to eat so that they could go back and have dinner. The sky was beginning to cloud up and the breeze was decidedly chilly.

 “Perhaps,” Opal suggested, “it isn’t time for grass.”

 “Maybe,” said Samantha, “but then again, grass is not all over in the Forest. It might be farther ahead. We might find some berries also.”

 “You’re right,” said Opal. “When we get to the Plain, we’ll be able to see a bit further and find things easier. Do you have to be back at your house anytime soon today?”

 “No, I sure don’t,” replied Samantha. “I can stay out as long as I want to most times, unless Ma gets up a formal dinner or something like that.”

  “Really?” said Opal, very surprised. “I have to be back by five o’clock every day that’s not school. We have dinner pretty early usually, but we need a lot of time to find things to eat this time of year.”

 “Oh, I see. Grass and berries don’t exactly grow on trees, I’ll admit.” said Samantha. “But pecans definitely do, and we sometimes get real tired of them. Then we go looking for an almond or such like. It’s fun.”

 “That’s good,” said Opal.

 “It really is,” said Samantha. “Once my brother didn’t come back for days. We thought he’d never turn up.”

 “Did you really?” asked Opal breathlessly.

 “We sure did!” said Samantha.

 “Did you ever find him?” wondered Opal.

 Samantha grinned. “He found us.”

 “Well, I’m glad of that,” said Opal, relieved. She did not want Samantha’s brother to be lost.

 “He found such an almond.” Samantha looked dreamy at the memory. “Even Pa said that he’d never seen a bigger one. We had it for dessert. It tasted beautiful, I tell you.”

 “What do almonds taste like?” Opal wondered. She had wondered about this for a long time and was glad to have finally found someone with almond experience.

 Samantha gave this some thought. “It’s all creamy and smooth and white. It’s crunchy at first, but then it sort of smooths out. It’s not very sweet, but it’s so good that that doesn’t really matter.”

 “Wow, interesting,” said Opal.

 Samantha bounded up to the top of a huge rock and looked around.

 “I don’t see the Plain,” she announced.

 “We’ve been going for an awful long time,” said Opal. “We should’ve reached it by now.”

 Samantha looked down at her from her rocky perch. “Maybe we’re lost. Keep a lookout for almonds.”

 Opal had to laugh. “I will.”

 Samantha climbed down and stood beside her. “Seriously, though. What if we can’t find our way back before your time’s up?”

 “I guess Ma’ll send my sister out to look for me,” said Opal. “I hope they’re not worried. . . we have been gone a long time. . .”

 “Should we retrace our steps?” asked Samantha. “We still haven’t found anything for you all to eat.”

 “I don’t know,” said Opal, feeling more worried than she had for a long time. “I’ve never been lost before. Have you?”

 “Oh yes,” Samantha responded. “I’ve actually lost count of how many times it’s been. It’s a lot. Oh, look at that!”

 She rushed forward excitedly, disappearing between two more rocks. There were a great deal of rocks about.

 “Wait for me!” Opal exclaimed. “Is it grass?” She hurried to catch up.

 “I think so,” Samantha’s voice drifted out from among the rocks. “Let me see. . . oh bother, it isn’t.”

 Opal made her way though the rocks and saw Samantha, standing across from her next to a spiky bush.

 “I knew I saw something green,” Samantha continued, “but all it is is this prickly stuff.”

 Opal looked at the plant more closely. It looked like something blackberries might grow on. She said, “Samantha, it looks like a blackberry bush!”

 “Really?” Samantha eyed the plant uncertainly. “What’s it got all those spikes for?”

 “Well, I don’t know.” Opal admitted. “But, are there berries on it?”

 They looked, but didn’t find anything.

 “Maybe it’s not the time for blackberries,” said Samantha.

 “Yes, perhaps so,” said Opal. Just then, she had a thought. “I think this is the Mountain. Near it, anyway.”

 “H’m, yes. It does look like that,” agreed Samantha. “There’s less trees, a whole lot of rocks, and look how overcast the sky is. We must’ve gone North instead of South.”

 The sky certainly looked overcast.

 “If we go on a bit farther we’re sure to see the Mountain itself!” said Samantha.

 Distant thunder rumbled ominously.

 Back in the Sunny South, Sara was greatly relieved to discover that the young fox looked as scared of her as she was of him. Perhaps foxes did not eat hedgehogs. She was pretty sure that hedgehogs did not eat foxes, so that was alright, she thought.

 “Hello. I’m Sara Tablecloth. Who are you?” asked Sara.

 “My name is Birch!” said the fox. “I don’t have a last name.”

 “You don’t? Why not?” Sara wondered.

 “I guess I don’t need one. One name is enough for me!” declared Birch.

 “I thought that last names helped determine which family you belonged to,” Sara remarked.

 Birch looked confused. “Did they expect you to forget?”

 “I don’t know,” said Sara. “I never considered it like that.”

 “Me neither,” agreed Birch. “What are you doing way out here? Don’t all porcupines live in the Mountain? They didn’t travel far, I thought.”

 “I’m not a porcupine,” said Sara, taken aback. “I’m a hedgehog. There’s a big difference between the two.”

 “Oh.” Birch looked similarly taken aback. “I didn’t know.”

 A long pause ensued. Then, Sara felt like she should definitely say something, so she said, “I’m looking for my sister; or I will be once I reach the Plain.”

 “Oh, I see.” Birch nodded emphatically.

 “Have you seen anyone who looked kind of like me going this way?” asked Sara.

 Birch thought and thought. “H’m. . . well. . . let me see. . . I’ll remember directly. . . oh yes. I saw a porcupine (Oh! Sorry! I meant hedgehog) coming this way an hour or so before you.”

 “Did you?” asked Sara with excitement. “What did she look like?”

 “Oh, she was really tall, with really, really long prickles. . .”

 “That couldn't have been her.” said Sara. “She’s shorter than I am.”

 “Oh.” Birch looked disappointed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see anyone else.”

 “Well, oh, well, we’re sure to find her anyway,” said Sara, starting down towards the Plain.

 Birch followed, saying, “I live on the Mountain, but I’ve always wanted to see the Plain. Is it very large?”

 “Yes, very,” answered Sara.

 “My Ma saw it once,” said Birch reflectively. “She said it looked like it went on as wide as the sea.”

 Startled by the accuracy of this comparison, Sara said, “It does look like that. It looks exactly like I would think a sea would look. Of course, I’ve never seen a sea. But I can Imagine what it would look like.”

 Birch’s pointy ears perked up excitedly. “Yes! I can too! My great-aunt saw the sea, but she wouldn’t ever describe it to anyone.”

 “What? Why not?” asked Sara in astonishment.

 “She said it was too gorgeous to be put into words,” explained Birch. “Any attempt to describe it would be useless, so she said.”

 “That sparks ones curiosity,” said Sara. “Now I want to see the sea.”

 “I know!” Birch agreed.

 “Which way did your Aunt go to find it?” asked Sara.

 “It was east, I think.” replied Birch.

 “Is it far?” asked Sara.

 “I’m not sure,” said Birch. “I didn’t ask her.”

 “Perhaps I’ll go there someday,” said Sara.

 “That sounds such fun,” Birch commented. “I’ll have to come too.”

 “I wonder if Opal might want to come as well,” mused Sara.

 “Who?” asked Birch.

 “Opal. My sister.” Sara explained. “But she might rather stay at home. . .”

 “I see.” said Birch. “Yes. I have a sister. We call her Maggie, short for Magnolia, you know.”

 “That makes sense,” agreed Sara.

 Through the trees ahead, Sara suddenly made out the tips of tall, waving grasses below patches of clear blue sky. “There it is!” she yelled.

 “Where? Where?” asked Birch, fairly bouncing with excitement.

 “Just ahead. We’re almost there,” Sara said, breaking into a run. Birch passed her in a reddish-brown blur, just as they emerged from the more shadowy Forest into the great, sunny, grass-filled Plain. A wonderfully warm wind billowed along, making the long grass bend.

 “Yay! Hooray!” shouted Birch, frolicking among the grasses. “This is incredible!”

 “Look at all this yummy grass!” shouted Sara, bouncing up and down like a spiky ball. “It’s grew up remarkable, I haven’t been here in ages!”

 For a few minutes they dashes about happily, for the hot sun and the racing wind and the endless waving grasses had a way of lifting one’s spirits. But presently they remembered why they were there, and Birch said, “I don’t see you sister. What does she look like?”

 Sara thought for a moment before answering, “She looks like me, only smaller. I don’t see her here either.

 Since the Plain was very flat, Opal should have been relatively easy to identify. Her absence was disturbing. Perhaps she had already left the Plain and headed for home. Or, maybe she had gone further into the Plain. Sara found these thoughts most depressing. How nice and simple things would have been if Opal had been easy to find! Now Sara did not know whether to continue farther into the Plain in case Opal had gone farther South, or to go back the way they came (in case Opal had gone that way).

 “Where are you going to look next?” Birch asked, as though sensing her thoughts.

 “I don’t know,” said Sara absently, being busy thinking of possible solutions to this situation.

 “Maybe she went to the sea!” suggested Birch hopefully. “We could look for her there!”

 This got Sara’s full attention for a moment. Then she sighed. “No, Opal had been going to the Plain, not the sea.”

 “Oh. You’re right,” said Birch. “What are we going to do?”

 Sara pondered this. Decisions like this were so hard. She knew that Opal was somewhere but she did not know where and therefore had no clue where to look. There was also the matter of Birch’s family, so she addressed that first.

 “Birch, you have the whole forest to cross to get back to the Mountain. Perhaps you should consider starting back. I think it’s already about three o’clock.”

 “Really?” said Birch, startled. “I didn’t know it was three o’clock already. But I wanted to help you find your sister.”

 Sara brightened. That solved the decision. “Then we can go back towards my house and the Forest. That way we’d be going towards your place and we can still look for Opal.”

 “Okay, sure!” replied Birch. Then, he pointed towards the North, in which direction they were now going. “Look at that.”

 A large grey cloud-bank stood out against the sky.

 “And it looks like it’s heading this way,” said Sara. “Come on. Let’s hurry.”

 Back in the cloudy North, Opal sat down on a small rock to think. If they were almost to the Mountain, then that meant that they had been going North all the while, which in turn, meant that they were nowhere near the Plain. It also meant that in order to return home, all they would have to do was turn around and go South. But, they still had not found anything yummy.

 “Should we go back?” she asked Samantha who was busy hopping from one small rock to another.

 Samantha stopped hopping abruptly and stood on a rock. “Go back? I’d rather not. I’ve never been this close to the Mountain before, but then again, I’d forgotten that you needed to be back by five. I think we still have a couple hours. But, I say, at least we’re not lost.”

 “There is that,” smiled Opal.

 Samantha sat down on the rock she had been standing on. “Let’s just say that I don’t really know what we’re supposed to do at this point. We could go back and get to your place in plenty of time, but we haven’t found anything for dinner.”

 “Yes, and we really do need something,” Opal admitted.

 “Then lets go on, then!” exclaimed Samantha, clearly pleased. She jumped up and headed North among the rocks. Opal followed, on the lookout for a speck of green.

 Meanwhile the clouds were getting darker and darker. Every once in awhile a long cold wind would spring up and come racing though the rocks, blowing Samantha’s fluffy tail almost out straight.

 “On second thought,” shouted Samantha over one such windy blast, “it looks like it’s going to storm something awful here in a second. Perhaps we should re-think. . .”

 She broke off suddenly, staring fixedly at something ahead. Then, she bounced forward.

 “. . . I see grass. . .!” Opal heard faintly. She dashed after Samantha, terrified lest they become separated, for in this weather any company was welcome. Storms were all very well when one was safely indoors, but they were quite scary anywhere else.

 Opal felt a few raindrops hit her face and she rushed after Samantha’s blurry form flitting between the rocks. Already there were several dark circles on the rocks that signified rain, and another great gust of wind made the splash-splash sounds increase.

 Samantha was standing next to another spiky bush when Opal finally reached her, picking something.

 “Look at this!” Samantha exclaimed.

 Sure enough, there were a few small blackberries on the bush.

 “Let’s pick them, quickly!” said Opal, reaching for a nice one.

 When the last berry was picked a minute later, the scattered raindrops were rapidly becoming a down-pour. The air was filled with the constant sound of water colliding forcefully with the ground.

 Samantha was saying something, amid the tumult.

 “. . . off to your place we go. What fun this is!”

 Being with one who did not seem disturbed by the storm made things in general much more pleasant. They started off.

 Opal led the way because common sense suggested that she would be more able to find the way to her own house than Samantha. Samantha didn’t even have the slightest idea what Opal’s house remotely resembled.

Opal was relieved to be heading homeward, but she was worried about the time. The rapidly increasing darkness seemed to imply a late hour; howbeit to clouds probably had a lot to do with that.

 “Are you sure you know the way?” Samantha asked.

 “I think so, that is, I hope so,” replied Opal. “I know it’s South.”

 “O, yes.” said Samantha. “I say. It’s really coming down now.”

 Opal guessed correctly that Samantha was referring to the rain in this last sentence. She wondered how Ma and the rest were doing and she hoped that they would arrive in time to make dinner alright.

 “Do you want to stay to dinner?” asked Opal. “We’re having cousins over for dinner too. They’re even from the Unknown Places.”

 “How grand!” said Samantha as excitedly as if she’d spotted a patch of grass. Cousins from any place were all very well, but cousins from the Unknown Places were a happening to be noted. “My mom won’t mind, but will yours?”

 “No she won’t,” assured Opal. “She likes guests.”

 “Then I will come over,” said Samantha. “How many cousins are there?”

 “Two; and they’re both older than me.”

 “Do you know why they’re coming?” asked Samantha.

 “Well, they’re on their way to the Southern-most Unknown Places and since they were passing by we decided to have dinner with them. . .”

 Opal was interrupted by a tremendously loud thunder that went off with a bang and rolled about the sky in amazing echoes.

 “That was a big one!” said Samantha, grinning.

 “Is it dangerous?” asked Opal, scared, and wishing that there were no such things as storms or anything to do with them.

 “No it isn’t dangerous!” said Samantha. “It’s just sound. But let’s keep going, anyway.”

 They kept going, and at first, the ground was rocky, but pretty soon, large trees appeared. The rain made a different sound now; the drops were bigger after collecting on the leaves of the trees. The ground, of course, was soaking wet and every step made a loud splashing noise.

 Such times seem to go on forever. The storm would not stop and the house did not appear. These are the times when one begins to feel uncertain of the choices one has made. Opal worried that perhaps they should have gone a bit more to the West or perhaps a bit more to the East. She worried that the guests had come and they were too late to make any dinner. She worried that there would not be enough food in the house for seven, even with the blackberries they’d found. If only some grass had been discovered. She wished that they had gone South instead of going North by mistake and missing the Plain altogether. There was also the chance, of course, that they would bypass the house and become hopelessly lost, and with the cousins coming over too! !

 Samantha bounced happily along, splashing though the big puddles and jumping over the small ones. She did not have to worry about finding the way home.

 Then, in the middle of a particularly strong worry on Opal’s part, Samantha yelled, “I see it!”

 Opal was so relieved. “Where?” she asked.

 Samantha pointed to one of the trees, which had a door in one side.

 “Oh, good!” exclaimed Opal. Hurrying over, she knocked on the door.

 “Where could they be?” asked Ma. “It’s nearly three-thirty, though it looks a whole lot later. I think a storm’s coming in.”

 Timothy, after a moment’s thought, said, “They may be on their way back.”

 Ma had just finished cleaning and was now dusting the cabinets while Timothy polished the mixing-bowl.

 “That and much else may very well be,” said Ma, “but I need grass to make a Grass Soup before four o’clock, and that’s a sure and certain fact.”

 Timothy replied, “Yes, it is.”

 So the minutes passed by, the cabinets got cleaner and cleaner, and as far the mixing-bowl, there was not a cleaner one in the Forest. Still there was not a sign of Sara or Opal.

 Finally Ma set down her dusting rag and announced firmly, “That’s quite enough of that. Put away that bowl (gracious, you can just about see you reflection in it) and come along with me. We must tidy the living-room.”

 Timothy followed, wondering whether or not to remind Ma that they had already tidied the living-room at least twice, but eventually he decided against it because there wasn’t really anything else to do at the moment except make Grass Soup, and that could not be done without Grass.

 Ma seized hold of the broom and whisked it about energetically while Timothy calmly fluffed the throw-pillows. At least it was something to do while waiting.

 Suddenly, though the clamorous scraping sounds that accompanied Ma’s vigorous cleansing of the floor, Timothy became aware of a voice calling,

 “Helloooo! We’re back!”

 “What’s that?” shouted Ma, dropping the broom with a clatter and lunging for the door.

 “It’s Sara! It’s me!” came the answer, and the door flew open before Ma could reach it. Sara stood in the doorway, with a red foxy face peeking curiously over her shoulder.

 “Sara?” exclaimed Ma. “Where’s Opal? What’s that grass doing there? And who’s that?”

 “The grass is for you,” said Sara, laughing and holding it out. “This is Birch; and we figured that Opal had come back here.”

 “Come back?” spluttered Ma. “Whatever put that idea. . . well, never mind. This grass smells delicious. It’ll make a good soup. Timothy! Turn on the hot water, please, thank you.”

 Sara continued. “She wasn’t in the Plain, unless she went farther into the Plain than we did.”

 “That must be it!” said Ma in dismay.

 “And she might not come back until five o’clock!” said Sara. “She will see the cousins, right?”

 “Well, I hope so,” said Ma, recovering herself and determined to make the best of things. “We’ll have a Grass Soup, so there’s a consolance. Come on in, Sara, and what’s you name again?”

 This last was directed at Birch, who replied,

 “Hi! I’m Birch.”

 “Well, you come in too.” said Ma in a brisk and matter of fact tone. “There’s a storm coming; and I don’t want you wandering about in the rain and getting yourself lost.”

 Birch walked in looking excited and happy. “Can I help?” 

 Ma looked pleased at having coming upon another willing helper. “Sure you can. Put those flowers on the mantle-piece and arrange them nice. Sara, set out the bowls and all the spoons. And Timothy, what are you doing?”

 Timothy, having turned on the hot water as requested, had picked up the broom and was looking about as if not knowing how to do he was supposed to be doing let alone what that thing could be. He said,

 “I’m just waiting for instructions,” which seemed right.

 “Well, I’ll give you some,” declared Ma. “Hand me that broom there and give those spoons a good scrub. It looks like they’ve gone and rusted. Birch, are you done?”

 Birch stepped back from his work and said, “Yes, ma’am! What next?”

 Ma surveyed the flower-decked mantle-piece with a slightly surprised air. “Now that does give an effect, doesn’t it? You’ve done well! Here’s this broom; the floor needs a bit of a touch-up, you know. I’m going to start the Soup.”

 With such a busy time indoors, no one paid much thought to the gathering clouds, until the unmistakable sound of rain pounded down upon the roof, accompanied by a rumble of thunder.

 Ma instantly thought of Opal. She exclaimed, “Why, that’s odd! Surely Opal would’ve come along home by now.”

 Timothy suggested, “Opal didn’t know that Sara had already got some grass. She would think we hadn’t got any and keep looking.”

 “Well, you’re right,” said Ma. “So you’re right. At least she knows to be back by five o’clock. That’s a consolation, believe me. Sara!”

 Sara, who had finished setting out the bowls and spoons, said, “Yes, ma’am?”

 “Bring me the salt from the pantry for this Grass Soup here.” said Ma. “It’s be the best one I’ve made, I think.”

 “And, you’ve made some good ones,” said Sara, returning with the salt.

 “Why, thank you, baby!” said Ma, very pleased.

 Birch gave the floor a final “touch-up” and hurried into the kitchen, holding the broom. “I’m finished!” he announced.

 “Really? Good!” said Ma. “You and Sara can go find me the raspberries in the pantry. I think I had a few left.”

 When the water was hot enough to suit Ma, she placed the Grass into the pot, three blades at a time, that being the customary procedure, then stirred it about faster and faster while at the same time salting it carefully. This part of the Soup was just about done when the raspberries arrived; there were five of them packed neatly into a brown jug. Ma tossed the raspberries into the pot with a splash.

 Then, dusting off her hands, she proclaimed, “Time for a taste-test.”

 Everyone tried it and said that it was very good. Ma beamed and said, “Well, I’ve lots of practice making it. Of course the type of Grass helps too. Now, to clean the kitchen!”

 They were all given a specific task and things became busy once more.

Opal and Samantha stood together under the door’s awning, dripping wet and trying not to worry. The house’s inside looked dark and rather empty though the big glass window in the door.

 “Perhaps they’re not at home,” said Samantha.

 “Yes, that could be,” said Opal doubtfully, “But I don’t know. I don’t think this is my house.”

 “Really? You’re sure?” asked Samantha.

 “I think so,” replied Opal. Certain things didn’t look right. The window in the door was too big and the door-handle was too small. Besides, there would probably be at least one person home at her place.

 “We should go on then, continued Opal. “This must be someone else’s house.”

 Samantha agreed and they went on. Things seemed a whole lot less promising somehow; it did not seem that they would ever find the right house. The forest was after all very large. The rain was raining down faster than ever.

 Then, Samantha exclaimed, “I see it!” and rushed forward.

 Opal was startled, for she had not expected to find another house so soon, but she followed Samantha to a huge pecan tree with a door in it. There was a light in one of the windows high above.

 Before Opal could explain that this most certainly was not her house, (it was much too big) Samantha announced, “This is my house!”

 Astonished, Opal asked, “How did we get here?”

 For a brief moment, Samantha looked puzzled, but then she grinned. “Well, we’re here, in any case, so we might as well make the most of it. My sister knows where everything is.”

 “Even my house?” asked Opal.

 “Probably,” said Samantha. “Hopefully she’s home.”

 Samantha opened the door. The large room inside was mostly empty and had an echo-y sound completely unfamiliar to Opal. Samantha started up a long spiral staircase at one end, saying, “Everyone that’s home will be upstairs. Hopefully someone is home.”

 “I see,” said Opal, following.

 Soon they reached the upstairs room. It was large and round, with a big green rug in the center. There were several chairs and a lot of bookshelves, and a lamp on the table, but no one else besides themselves occupied the room.

 “I should have known,” said Samantha. “They’re all at Millicent Andrews’ party.”

 “Really?” wondered Opal. “Why weren’t you with them?”

 “It was my day to pick the pecans,” replied Samantha. “I picked them all really early, too. But I don’t mind. I never liked parties.”

 “”You don’t? Why not?”

 “Oh, I don’t know. They’re always so fancy and all that. Anyway, I’m sure we have a map of the Forest somewhere.” Samantha became occupied by flipping though bookshelves. Opal gazed at the lamp. She said, “Surely someone is home; they left a light on.”

 “Oh, that?” said Samantha, pushing a book back on the shelf and pulling out another. “It’s safe, I suppose. Inside the glass and all.”

 “Oo yes,” said Opal, fascinated. Lamps that had glass around them were things to be admired.

 “I found it!” Samantha said, holding out a bit of paper. They studied it for a minute or two.

 “There it is!” exclaimed Opal, pointing to a very small dot on the paper with the words, ‘The Tablecloth’s house’ written beneath it.

 “It’s a little east of here,” said Samantha. “Good to know. Let’s go.”

 “Yes, I agree,” said Opal, glad that they had made the stop. Samantha replaced the paper on the shelf and hastened after Opal. Now that they knew where they were going, things were more enjoyable.

 They came upon a smallish, short, and most unimportant-looking tree with a big, wooden door and a small, round window in it.

 “That’s it!” said Opal.

 Samantha looked it over. “It’s sure cute.”

 “Why, thanks!” said Opal, pleased at the complement. She opened the door without pausing to knock because she knew that by now they were probably expecting her.

 There were a whole lot of things going on inside. Sara rushed by on her way to the living room, holding a dusting-rag. Timothy was polishing forks at the table. Loud splashing sounds issued forth from the kitchen as Ma washed various dishes and gave orders to a strange fox listening eagerly.

 “Wow, this looks like fun!” said Samantha, bouncing over to the table and setting her blackberries thereon. She looked closely at Timothy’s polishing.

 Timothy, mildly surprised by her sudden entrance, said, “It is fun. Do you want to help?”

 “Sure thing!” said Samantha. Opal smiled and headed for the kitchen.

 Ma was saying, “And mind you don’t drop the hearth-rug. It’s delicate.” Then she turned, saw Opal, and seized her in a huge hug.

 “Gracious, baby!” said Ma, “You’re late. . . I suppose you didn’t know. Although I’ll admit you had me downright nervous. Being out in that storm and all. Where did you get those blackberries? And who’s that?”

 “That’s Samantha Napkins; she wanted to meet the cousins. These blackberries we found somewhere on the mountain side of things. . .”

 “What! What!” interrupted Ma. “What were you doing there?”

 “Well, I’m not sure exactly,” said Opal, “It was a mistake.”

 “I see.” Ma nodded wisely. “I’ve done that a time or two myself, for that matter.” She looked more closely at the blackberries. “Well, these sure do look nice. And here I was, wondering what we were going to have for dessert! Well, well, God surely provides for us all.”

 Ma then noticed that Samantha was now situated at the table polishing forks with Timothy and said with pleasure, “Those forks will be shined up proper in a minute. Opal, hurry and get the sugar. I’ll make a Blackberry Pie.”

 Birch, who had gone off to perform his task concerning the delicacy of the hearth-rug, came back into the kitchen, saying,

 “That’s done, too. Sara said to tell you that the rag she was using to dust the fire-place has got a hole. It’s a big hole too. I saw it.”

 “Well, then,” said Ma, “Take her a new one and tell her to be more careful with it this time. Rags aren’t the sturdiest things in the world. Oh, and get one for yourself too so you can help her.”

 Opal hastened for the pantry, a gigantic walk in sort of thing with shelves and wooden barrels and large jugs mostly filled with canned pickles. The sugar was much harder to find than initially expected, but finally it was discovered in a bag between two barrels in a corner. The bag was very small, so she brought the whole thing to Ma, who had a new pot on the stove and was stirring it rapidly with a long spoon.

 “Here you are,” said Opal.

 “Thanks a lot!” responded Ma, pouring some in and hand<ng back the Sugar. “This will taste good, I think!”

 “I’m sure it will,” said Opal, trying to get a look in the pot as she went back to the pantry. She glimpsed a yummy-looking blackberry mixture that as yet had no resemblance to a Pie. Whatever it was, it looked good.

 Samantha and Timothy had just finished polishing forks and were entering the kitchen with big smiles.

 “That smells really good!” said Samantha.

 “Why, thank you, baby!” said Ma, beaming. “It’s a remarkable recipe, passed down from my Great-Grandma. A true thing to remember.”

 “I sure do agree with that,” replied Samantha. “That’s really something! Do you need any help in here?” She glanced wonderingly around at the sparkling cabinets.

 “Well, come to think of it, I could use a help here and there,” said Ma. “Samantha, load up this frying-pan here with those blackberries on the table. I’ll fry them for the Pie. Set out the plates, Timothy. The ones with the wooden border’ll do. Opal, hand me that spatula. And where’s that fox gotten to?”

 “He’s in the living-room,” replied Timothy, taking the wooden-bordered plates to the table.

 “Oh, right,” said Ma. “I suppose you’ll have to get me the Pie-Pan, Opal. I’m going to need it here in a second.”

 Opal lifted the Pie-Pan down from its place on the shelf and set it on the counter next to Ma, who quickly poured the blackberries into it. She set it aside to cool and began to fry the other blackberries, saying,

 “These’ll be done in a moment. How’s the table-setting going, Timothy?”

 “It’s going well,” said Timothy.

 “Well, that’s a good thing. Samantha, hand him those cups. . . or, better yet, set them out yourself.” said Ma. “That’s Efficiency. Opal, it’s high time we got the napkins all set, so occupy yourself with that, will you? Is Sara still at her dusting?”

 “She is,” replied Timothy, setting down the last plate.

 “Well, good. I’m glad of it. We don’t want any time wasted.” Ma said. “Though I’ll admit this place is shaping up real nice Turns out all it needed was a bit of a polishing-up here and there, you know. It looks admirable now.”

 “It sure does!” said Samantha cheerfully.

 “Do you need these pots washed?” asked Sara, who had finished the dusting and was coming into the kitchen with Birch.

 “Why, yes, I do,” said Ma. “I’d appreciate it.” She placed the last fried blackberry into the Pie-Pan with the cooked blackberries and surveyed her work with pleasure.

 “You can wash the frying-pan and I’ll do the rest,” said Sara to Birch.

 “Okay!” said Birch.

 A few minutes later, even Ma could not find a fault in the house’s appearance. Everything was as clean ass clean could be, and the extent to which all things had been scrubbed, polished, and dusted was admittedly something that dazzled the eyes.

 “Good work, everyone,” said Ma. “It went by quick, too. That’s when you know you’ve enjoyed it. The Pie’s cooling good. It’s the. . .”

 At that moment, someone knocked on the door.

 There was a general rush for it, as there usually is when someone nice is coming over for dinner and has been awaited for a long time. Everyone was talking at once, too, for there was so much to say and, as Opal later reflected, the only problem with having the cousins over for the evening was that they never stayed long enough.

 Since the cousins were from the Unknown Places, and they always had such interesting conversations, and they knew so much about the world in general, and they possessed such large quantities of the experience and knowledge that comes with much travel, they were the best sources of information in the Forest. One of the things that made the cousins such pleasant company was that they never seemed to get tired of answering questions.

 The Grass Soup and the Blackberry Pie were very good, and if nobody noticed that the Pie had no crust and the Grass Soup had only five raspberries, it was because the cousins were so interesting to talk to. But it was, as Opal thought, an Evening to Remember.