That evening, after supper, when the family was preparing to gather around in the library, Charlie was finishing helping Teresa
clear the table of dishes.
Carrying the plates and glasses, Charlie followed Teresa to the kitchen, where the older girl took the steaming teakettle, and poured
hot water into the sink.
"Want to wash, or dry?" she asked Charlie.
Charlie shrugged. "Dry, I guess."
As they were working, in the quiet and privacy of the kitchen together, Charlie took the opportunity to tell Teresa, in low tones,
about the song she'd written about Miss Hummle, then to repeat it, and relay how the boys had been parroting it in town that morning.
Teresa paused in her dishwashing, lifting her hands from the hot, soapy dish water, to look at Charlie intently.
For a moment she looked amused, but said, 'Oh, Charlie', in a somewhat admonishing tone.
"I didn't think they'd be singing it 'round like that," Charlie defended.
"Well, they're boys, so of course they're going to do what you don't expect them to," Teresa pointed out, and continued with her
washing of plates and glasses.
"It was horrible-" Charlie talked on. "With Scott and Johnny and Val all standing right there, listening-"
She regarded Teresa, working her lower lip in worry. "Do you think Scott would be awfully mad about it?"
Teresa gave Charlie a 'big-sisterly' look. "Do I think he would be or do I think he will be?"
"What's that mean?" Charlie asked, looking downcast.
"You know what it means. Will he find out you had a hand in it, or would he only be upset with you if he hears about it?" Teresa said.
Charlie heaved a huge sigh, and continued to dry plates absent-mindedly. "It was only meant as a joke for the kids," she said, in defense.
"It's not so terrible," Teresa said. "It's a bit disrespectful, but-" she looked at Charlie again. "Well, it is disrespectful, but t's not the worst thing."
"Thanks," Charlie said, giving Teresa a small, grateful smile.
"Want some advice?" Teresa asked, drying her hands on a towel, and leaning against the kitchen counter.
"I guess," Charlie said, not sure that she did.
"It might be the best thing if you just told Scott about it, outright," Teresa said. "Come clean about it-" she paused, as
Charlie's face tightened in dismay.
"I don't want to do that!" Charlie was exclaiming in a not so quiet tone, when both girls were surprised by a low male voice.
"What don't you want to do?" Scott asked, as he came into the kitchen, carrying an empty coffee cup.
Charlie felt her face get warm, and she darted a look of barely-concealed worry at Teresa. Scott went to the stove, and lifted the coffee pot,
pouring hot coffee into his cup.
"Hmm?" he asked, looking at Charlie, in question.
He was halfway smiling, still, and Charlie could tell he didn't really think that it was anything too terrible that she'd been talking about, and that
he was likely teasing her.
"Teresa was giving me advice," Charlie said, trying to sound casual, and not as though she was worried.
A look towards Teresa and the older girl gave a brief nod, which Charlie knew was meant to be encouragement for her to
just bite the bullet and tell Scott about the song.
When Charlie remained, stubbornly, silent, Scott looked from Charlie to Teresa and then back to Charlie again.
"Girl talk, huh?" he said, and included them both in his smile, indulgently. "Alright, I can take a hint. I'll clear out so you two can keep talking." He took
his now-refilled cup and headed back towards the library.
Charlie watched him go, torn between relief that he hadn't pressed her to divulge anything, and yet feeling guilty at the trust he
gave her.
She sighed again, and turned to see Teresa giving her a pitying look.
"It would be better to tell him, Charlie. What if he hears about it from somebody in town?"
"None of the boys would squeal on me, I know they wouldn't-"
"Alright, well," Teresa paused beside Charlie, smoothing back Charlie's braid. "Don't be writing any more of that sort of thing, right?"
"No, I won't," Charlie promised with fervor.
"I have to go and change," Teresa said. "Cole's coming for me in a bit."
"Where are you goin'?" Charlie asked, trailing after Teresa as she headed towards the stairs.
"To a dance in town. At the town hall."
"Oh. Can I come up and sit with you while you get ready?"
"Sure, you can," Teresa said, and, once upstairs, ensconced in Teresa's bedroom, Charlie watched as the Teresa changed, and dressed
herself in a fine blue dress, with an immense amount of buttons up the back. She continued watching as Teresa brushed her dark hair
until it crackled, and swept it up in tendrils around her face.
"I don't think I'll ever be able to do up my hair like that," Charlie mused, laying on her stomach on Teresa's bed, with her chin propped
in her hands.
"You will," Teresa said.
"And extra petticoats-I don't even like wearing one," Charlie went on, and Teresa laughed.
"It just seems like a lot of trouble to go to," Charlie said.
"Someday it won't seem like such a lot of trouble to you."
"I dunno," Charlie said, doubtfully.
"And, then," Teresa said, standing from her bench in front of her dressing table, and coming over to the bed, "Someday you'll meet
some handsome young man, and you'll turn into a social butterfly, going from dance to dance to party to party-"
"Uh uh," Charlie said, shaking her head, and Teresa laughed again.
"Mark my words. It will happen," Teresa said. "Now, I'm going downstairs. Are you coming with me?"
"Yeah," Charlie said, and sat up, hopping down from the bed.
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Teresa went out with her young man, and Johnny left soon after, set for his own evening out.
When Murdoch questioned Johnny, asking where he was headed to, Charlie thought he seemed as though he was worrying over
Johnny. He looked vaguely disapproving, though he didn't voice any actual cautioning words.
Johnny was gone, then, with a laugh, and a gentle tug on Charlie's braid.
Charlie spent her evening very enjoyably, sketching with Murdoch, and then having a first lesson in the game of chess with
Scott as her teacher.
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They'd left the chess board set up to continue on with the game, and Charlie tried to coax Scott into reviving their game
after breakfast Sunday morning.
"Later," Scott told her. "It's time right now to get ready for church."
"Church," Charlie muttered, in a disparaging way, and Scott raised his eyebrows a bit.
"I thought you enjoyed church," he said, mildly.
"I do, sometimes-but it's sooo long," Charlie complained, as Scott went around her to go to the kitchen.
"That's so there's plenty of time for contemplation," Murdoch said, with a smile for her. "Over wrongdoing-or shenanigans," he added.
Charlie knew he was only teasing her, but she still couldn't help her thoughts from straying to that song.
"Johnny doesn't often go, though," Charlie pointed out. Reasonably, she thought. "If he doesn't, then why do I have to?" she added.
Murdoch no longer looked amused, and he raised his eyebrows to an alarming proportion.
"Alright, young lady," he said. He turned her shoulder to usher Charlie towards the stairs. "Go on along and get dressed for church
services." And, then, he gave her a smack on the seat of her overalls to send her on her way.
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It was after the church service, which seemed, as usual, to be long and drawn-out to Charlie, that folks gathered outside to
visit, and discuss their week. Charlie was able to spend some time talking with Rebecca, as her father talked with Scott and Murdoch.
Monte and John had separated from their mother, and they and Tommy ran by, with Monte greeting Charlie and Rebecca.
"Hey there, Charlie! Hey, Becca!" And, then, just as they were past the trees of the church lot, Monte and Tommy broke into
song. Again.
Charlie exchanged an anguished look with a sympathetic Rebecca.
"Can't believe they're singin' it at church," Rebecca whispered. Rebecca's father was looking after the boys, who were running around
some ladies, causing their hat feathers to flutter.
"What in the world are they saying?" Murdoch wondered aloud.
"Young'uns are up to somethin' all the time," Rebecca's father said, sounding disapproving.
"Same song as yesterday," Scott said.
"Those boys need to be taken in hand," Rebecca's father said. "The sooner Johnson gets back in town to curb those boys of his, the better."
Rebecca and Charlie exchanged another glance. The girls said their goodbyes, as the adults finished their conversation.
Teresa was invited to lunch at a friend's, so it was Scott, Charlie and Murdoch setting out for home in the buggy.
Scott held the reins, with Charlie in the middle and Murdoch on the right, his arm resting along the back of the buggy seat.
A ball came flying over Barthalemew's back, and four boys ran across the street chasing the ball, as Scott pulled back on the reins to slow
the horse down.
"Sorry!" Monte called out, followed by John, Tommy and Luke Moore. And, then, again, Monte and Tommy called out, "Hullo, Charlie!"
And, then, with an enormous grin across his freckled face, Monte paused at the side of the street, and the buggy trotted on, and he
began singing, at the top of his lungs, "Old Hummie, wish you'd go back, Until then, SIT ON A TACK!"
Charlie cringed, and shot Monte a venomous glare, meant to convey her urgent wish for him to shut up.
Monte was still singing loudly as Scott drove the buggy on. Even as they traveled to the end of the street, the boys could be heard
chanting, "Old Hummie, the raccous hawk, Tried to talk, but could only squawk!"
"They sure like that song," Scott said. "Third time I've heard it in two days."
"What's it all about, do you know?" Murdoch asked Charlie.
Charlie pressed herself back against the seat, wishing she could disappear. Just evaporate.
"The boys are always being silly," she muttered.
"Hummie," Scott said, sounding thoughtful. "Could it be they're singing about Miss Hummle?" He gave Charlie a slight nudge with
his elbow.
Charlie felt her face flame hot with color. She shrugged, hoping Scott would drop the subject.
"It doesn't sound like a very nice song," Scott said.
Charlie swept her gaze up to his face, and then away again, looking forward, at the horse's tail.
"No," she muttered, in agreement that it wasn't nice. She was vastly relieved when Scott and Murdoch did drop the topic, and they began
discussing the sale of some cattle. Charlie stayed silent the rest of the way home, using the time to imagine how it would be to push Monte,
and his laughing, freckled face, into a pool of mud.
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