Read Online The Four-Story Mistake by Elizabeth Enright - Free Book Online

he was fond of:
    â€œBut OH it was a cruel sight
    And grieved us full sore.
    Sail HIGH sail LOW
    And so-o sailed we,
    To see them all a-drowning
    As they tried to swim to shore—
    A-sailing down all on the coast of HIGH Barbaree!”
    He scrambled up Willy Sloper’s ladder, hurdled the railing of the tree house, and sat down on the floor with his back pressed against the rough substantial trunk of the oak. It was good to rest after his recent exertion. He sat very still listening to the minute, distant ringing of the fever in his ears. Beyond it there were other sounds: the sounds of a warm fall day. Leaves dropped with a whisper to the earth, and acorns plopped like heavy drops of rain. A woodpecker rapped at the trunk of the tree above Rush’s head. Another pecked near by, and another, and another, and another. The woods were full of a ghostly, hollow knocking as though dozens of brittle knuckles beat upon closed doors.
    He lay down flat on his back and looked up into the purpling roof of leaves. How high it was, and beyond it how tremendous was the sky. Rush felt as though he were lying on the floor of the ocean, deep, deep down. Fathomless currents stirred the leaves, and rocked his cradle. By and by he was asleep.
    At half past four everybody came home in the Motor. Randy, Mona, and Oliver played prisoner’s base on the lawn. Cuffy peeked into Rush’s room, thought that he was sleeping, and went down to the kitchen to get supper. Willy came with her to peel the potatoes and have a good talk.
    At five-thirty a procession of slate-blue clouds rose out of the west and hid the setting sun. They were thick, huge, overpowering clouds full of a mean spirit. The surprise they brought with them was a vast, boisterous wind that burst unannounced upon the world, to tear the last of Indian summer into ribbons. The children ran indoors, Willy went down cellar to get wood for the fireplaces, and Cuffy hurried out to the clothesline and gathered up armfuls of bounding, devil-possessed clothes. High in the tree house Rush curled deeper into sleep, pulling his bathrobe close about him.
    â€œHow’s Rush feeling, Cuffy?” asked Mona, setting the table.
    â€œI guess he’s all right,” Cuffy answered from the kitchen. “He’s still asleep.”
    She was right about that. Rush was still asleep. Only not where she thought he was. The wind blew harder and harder. It wrenched the shutters from their catches and slapped them against the house; it blew the smoke down the chimney, and tore branches from the trees. Up in the woods something fell to the earth with a loud crash.
    Rush sat up suddenly, chilled and stiff. At first he couldn’t remember where he was. He was lost in a frightening turmoil of dark and wind. The very earth was rocking beneath him and overhead all he could see was strange, tossing forms and driving clouds. Absolutely terrified he put out his hand and touched the rough, solid bark of the oak. The cold sweat of relief sprang out all over him. So it wasn’t the end of the world, after all. It was only his own tree house rocking in a gale!
    â€œBoy, I better scram back to bed,” Rush said to himself. “I wonder if I can climb up that spruce tree in the dark as easily as I came down it?” The thought exhausted him. Maybe he could sneak up the back stairs without being caught. He turned up the collar of his bathrobe, flung one leg over the rail, and reached out with his slippered foot for the top rung of Willy’s ladder. His foot waved aimlessly at first, then searchingly, and at last frantically. There was no ladder.
    â€œWell, gee,” Rush said. He waved his foot around some more, but it met only empty space. The ladder had blown over. That must have been what woke him up.
    â€œI could jump,” he remarked without enthusiasm. He leaned over the railing and looked down. Jump? Twenty feet in the dark and into bushes? “You’d be a