# Cheery and the Chum/Chapter 5

WISH that I could tell you all of the things that Cheery and The Chum did during those sunshiny summer days on the farm.
They went fishing in the little creek behind the barn; they fed the ducks, there were eight new ones since last year, all white with funny top-knots, and it was great fun to throw corn into the duck-pond and see them dive for the kernels, catching them before they reached the bottom of the pond. And by and by there were fourteen little yellow ducklings. Cheery and The Chum named them all, but they never could remember which was which. Then, too, they played with the calves, there were three of them, all black and white spotted, and the children ​named the white faced one Daisy, and the one that was nearly all black, Topsey, and the one with one white ear and one black ear, was Goody Two Ears. "It's just as good a name as Goody Two Shoes," protested Cheery, stoutly, when they laughed at the name; "and she's got two ears, hasn't she?" which certainly settled the matter.
Mr. Cann put up a great big swing in the barn. It was fastened to a beam very high up, so that when the two wide doors at the back of the barn were thrown open, the children could swing away out through the doorway and far over the creek; and they could see the men at work in the hay, beyond the potato and corn fields.
The corn field was a delight; for, growing all among the corn, were corn-flowers such as grow in city people's gardens and are called bachelor's buttons; and they were blue—all shades of blue—and pink and purple and white, and they had splendidly long stems. Cheery always picked
​the blue ones only; but The Chum gathered every color that he could find. And sometimes they would get a needle and strong thread, and string the blossoms into long chains to wear around their necks.
And in the corn field there were morning glories, too, pink and purple and white, like the corn-flowers, and the vines wound around and around, up the stalks, tossing out curly tendrils which caught Cheery's hair, and tapped their faces more gently than did the rustling corn blades. And in one end of the field there were pumpkin vines with great yellow blossoms, shaped like the morning glory blossoms, and there were always dusty bees buzzing in and out of them.
And then, over across the lane, was the maple grove; beautiful woods where they might play all they chose, and make believe that they were Indians or gypsies; and where the squirrels were so tame that they would come and take nuts from their fingers. And away beyond the mill was the ​tamarack swamp. Cheery and The Chum might not go there alone; but often Mamma or Aunt Beth or Uncle Rob would take them for an afternoon, and then—wintergreens and partridge berries,
and wonderful, tall ferns, as tall as the children, and great mossy logs to walk on, and Uncle Rob would bend down a sapling, so that they might swing; and once they found some curious plants that Aunt Beth said were Indian pipes, queer, pale flowers with leaves and stem and blossom all pure white. Cheery thought them lovely; but she loved her dear ​corn-flowers the best of all; and, somehow, after a visit to the wonderful tamarack swamp, the corn field seemed delightfully warm and cozy, and the rustle of the long corn blades, seemed happier than the sighing of the evergreen branches.
There was a splendid pile of lumber over by the granary, and they had great times climbing over it and making houses of the boards; and Mr. Cann made them a perfectly fine see-saw; and, too, there was a "crow's nest" in one of the apple trees.
One day, in exploring the granary, they found there stored, two saddles, one of them a side-saddle, and there were also two saw-horses. The Chum suddenly saw the possibilities. For once he didn't say a word; but when Cheery went to ​feed Winkie Baby, he coaxed Uncle Rob out to the granary; and when Cheery returned, there were the two saddles fastened upon the two saw-horses; and from that time on, the children went riding every day, and had the most glorious canters up hill and down dale, without once going outside of the granary door. Uncle Rob made them fine willow switches with whistles in the ends; but they never whipped their ponies hard enough to hurt—even the switches.
On wet days they played on the veranda with the mice and Winkie Baby and a wonderful toy village with wooden houses at least four inches high, and trees that were green and curly and shaped like a Christmas tree. Sometimes, when the village was all set-up, with the mouse-cage out on the "common" for a menagerie, Winkie Baby, fat and happy and grown to the size of a pussy-cat, would stroll down the principal street, upsetting trees and houses in every direction; and then ​they would chase him all about the veranda, laughing and scrambling, while he grunted and squealed and dodged between their feet until they were as much upset as the village.