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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:39 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:06:39 -0700 |
| commit | 5e42fa04ef4f6b2742b58d554e09cbfa4431fb09 (patch) | |
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diff --git a/36846-h/36846-h.htm b/36846-h/36846-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ba4435 --- /dev/null +++ b/36846-h/36846-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,17405 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta content="Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer" name="DC.Title"/> + <meta content="Rena I. Halsey" name="DC.Creator"/> + <meta content="en" name="DC.Language"/> + <meta content="1917" name="DC.Created"/> + <meta name="generator" content="ppgen (1.16) generated Jul 24, 2011 11:41 PM" /> + <title>Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h2 {text-align:left; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h2 {font-size:1.2em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .larger {font-size:larger;} + .smaller {font-size:smaller;} + hr.fnsep {border:none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; width:10%; margin-left:0; margin-top:20px} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + table.c {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .footnote a {text-decoration:none;} + .footnote {font-size: 80%;} + .fnanchor {font-size: 80%; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: 0.25em;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps} + .footnote .label {float:left; text-align:left; width:2em;} + div.center>:first-child {margin: .5em auto 0 auto;text-align:center;} + div.center p {margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;} + hr.tb {border:none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; margin: 20px auto; width:35%} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer, by Rena I. Halsey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer + +Author: Rena I. Halsey + +Illustrator: Nana French Bickford + +Release Date: July 26, 2011 [EBook #36846] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE ROBIN, THE GIRL PIONEER *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src='images/illus-cvr.jpg' alt='' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div><a name='illus-fpc' id='illus-fpc'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i002' id='i002'></a> +<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" alt="“What can I do for you? Are you in pain?”" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“What can I do for you? Are you in pain?”</span> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.4em;font-weight:bold;'>BLUE ROBIN,</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.4em;font-weight:bold;'>THE GIRL PIONEER</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p>BY</p> +<p> </p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.2em;'>RENA I. HALSEY</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><em>ILLUSTRATED BY NANA FRENCH BICKFORD</em></p> +</div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i003' id='i003'></a> +<img src='images/illus-emb.png' alt='' title=''/><br /> +</div> +<div class='center'> +<p>BOSTON</p> +<p>LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>Published, March, 1917</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Copyright, 1917</p> +<p><span class='sc'>By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co.</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><em>All rights reserved</em></p> +<p>BLUE ROBIN, THE GIRL PIONEER</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Norwood Press</p> +<p>BERWICK & SMITH CO.</p> +<p>NORWOOD, MASS.</p> +<p>U. S. A.</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>BLUE ROBIN THE GIRL PIONEER</p> +<p>IS</p> +<p>AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED</p> +<p>TO</p> +<p> </p> +<p>MISS LINA BEARD</p> +<p> </p> +<p>FOUNDER</p> +<p>AND</p> +<p>CHIEF PIONEER</p> +<p>OF</p> +<p>THE NATIONAL INCORPORATED</p> +<p>ORGANIZATION OF</p> +<p>THE GIRL PIONEERS OF AMERICA</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1'></a>1</span></div> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>WHAT ARE “GIRL PIONEERS”?</span></p> +</div> +<p> +The first public meeting of the National Organization of +the Girl Pioneers of America was held by the founder, +Miss Lina Beard, in the quaint old Pioneer meeting-house +on Broadway, in Flushing, New York, February 8, 1912. +</p> +<p> +The aim of the Organization of Girl Pioneers is: To +cultivate in girls the sterling qualities displayed by our +early pioneer women; to create a desire in them for +a happy, broad, and useful life and to show them how +to attain it; to give them things to do that are interesting, +wholesome, and that will strengthen character; and to +develop a love for out-of-door life by showing them how +to live it. +</p> +<p> +The watchword of the Girl Pioneer is, “I Can.” +</p> +<p> +The principles upon which the organization is founded +are not simply taught as precepts, they are found and +practiced in all the delightful activities of the movement. +Outdoor life with its limitless avenues of interest: camping, +trailing, woodcraft, learning to know the wild life of +the open, its plants, its flowers, birds, common wild animals +and insects; the stars and the meaning of the +shadows, the use of nature’s material in handicraft; all +these and many more are opened to the Girl Pioneer, and +by actual contact she is finding the beauty of truth and the +wonder of reality. By her membership in this large organization +she is learning to be less self-centered, learning +to work with others and for others, and to share her enjoyments +with others. By the joyous participation in +field-sports, and such recreation as rowing, swimming, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2'></a>2</span> +fishing, riding, kite-flying, stilt-walking, and the more conventional +games, such as basket-ball, service-ball, tennis, +and archery, she is learning to play honestly and fairly, +and <em>is building up bodily health and strength</em> to keep pace +with the mental and moral health that is being developed +within her. +</p> +<p> +By her indoor life, lived as truly in the pioneer spirit +as her life in the open, she is bringing into play the faculties +of resourcefulness, of adaptability, of thoroughness, +and the virtue of helpful kindness. She learns to do all +household tasks, to do them well, and to be interested in +them. She is taught in charming ways the use of her five +senses, and is delighted to find that she can develop them +and consciously enjoy them. She learns to care for the +sick and the young children; she is proud of being able to +render “first aid” according to the latest and best +methods; she learns how to avoid accidents as well as what +to do in case of accidents. She has a system of signs for +blazing the trail which belongs solely to the Girl Pioneers, +and she learns what to do in case she is lost when camping +or trailing. In short, the Girl Pioneer’s teaching +makes her efficient in all fields. The mind and imagination +of the Girl Pioneer are stimulated by true stories of +heroism and the adventures of the early pioneers. Her +merit badges are given the names of the women pioneers, +including besides the early settlers those who were +in helpful work for humanity. Her honors are shown by +stars worn on the sleeve, which indicate the tests successfully +passed and lead up to the final merit badge. +</p> +<p> +The Girl Pioneer colors, red, white, and blue, not only +signify that the organization is national in extent but hold +a still further meaning for the Girl Pioneers; red +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span> +standing for courage, white for purity, and blue for truth. The +graceful salute symbolizes a brave heart, an honest mind, +a resourceful hand. The motto of the Girl Pioneer is, +“Brave, Honest, Resourceful.” +</p> +<p> +The Girl Pioneers have their khaki uniform with red +tie and red hatband, which is practical, adaptable, and +pleasing. They have their banners, their Pioneer sign, +their initiation, with its ceremony and membership certificate; +their rallies, field-days, and other general meetings +indoors and out. They have their Pioneer cheer, and each +Band and each group has a cheer of its own. There is the +official song which all the Pioneers sing, and there are +songs composed by the Bands. +</p> +<p> +Each Band is under the leadership of a volunteer director +who furnishes acceptable credentials. The Band is +composed of one group, or several groups, of from six to +ten girls in each. The name of an American wild bird is +chosen for the name of each group, and the Band is known +by its number. The bird cheers of the groups are very +breezy and inspiring. +</p> +<p> +The Girl Pioneer ranks are open to all girls, and the +work is very helpful in Sunday-schools, public schools, +private schools, camps, and all large societies for girls, +such as Young Women’s Christian Association, Young +Women’s Christian Temperance Union, playgrounds, +etc. +</p> +<p> +The Daughters of the American Revolution, Colonial +Dames, and like organizations seek to preserve the historical +records and objects connected with the early life +of our country, while the Girl Pioneers seek to revive and +perpetuate the spirit that dominated the invincible men +and women who made our nation possible. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +</p> +<p> +The Girl Pioneer organization is governed by an Executive +Board, of which the Chief Pioneer, Lina Beard, is the +head. There is also a National Council composed of eminent +and influential men and women living in various +parts of the United States, to be called upon when needed. +</p> +<p> +The Pioneer folder will be sent upon application, and +the Manual will be sent upon receipt of price, thirty-five +cents, and seven cents for postage. For further information +and for literature, address: +</p> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Secretary of Girl Pioneers of America,</span></p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><span class='sc'>Flushing, New York</span>.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>FOREWORD</span></p> +</div> +<p> +A few summers ago I had the pleasure of being entertained +by several Bands of The Girl Pioneers of +America, on the wooded shores of one of Long Island’s +noted bays, at Camp Laff-a-Lot. As I watched these +wholesome-looking, happy girls in their attractive uniforms, +and saw their bright, animated faces as they +made merry in joyous sport under God’s blue, and then +turned to the more serious employment of making bayberry +candles, building camp fires, gathering wildflowers +in their study of Nature, or blazing the trail +as they made the woodland resound to their wonderful +imitation of bird-notes, in the various calls of their +groups, my interest was awakened. Later, as I gathered +with them in the red glow of their Cheer Fire and +heard their rousing Pioneer cheer, and their inspiring +Band songs, and saw how a love for history and the +true meaning of patriotism was engendered, while their +minds and imaginations were being stimulated by their +stories of the heroism of the women Pioneers, I realized +that as our patriotic organizations were seeking to +honor the Founders of our Nation by preserving historical +records and objects, these Pioneer daughters +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +were seeking to revive and perpetuate the spirit that +dominated the men and women who brought to these +shores, the grand principles of a civilization that has +made our Republic the greatest in the world! It was +in recognition of the nobleness of the aims of The Girl +Pioneers of America, as well as in appreciation of the +worthy Founder’s efforts to bring out the best in them, +that inspired me to set forth if only in a limited way +these many truths, and so I was emboldened to write +“Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer!” +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'><span class='sc'>Rena I. Halsey.</span></p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'><em>Brooklyn,</em></p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0;'><em>January 1, 1917.</em></p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>CONTENTS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='table of contents'> +<tr><td style='font-size:smaller'>CHAPTER</td><td></td><td style='font-size:smaller'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>I</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Nest in the Old Cedar</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chI'>11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>II</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Her Next-door Neighbor</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chII'>27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>III</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Girl Pioneers</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIII'>40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Nathalie Is Asked to Become a Blue Robin</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIV'>55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>V</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Gray Stone House</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chV'>72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Working into Harness</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVI'>90</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Mayflower Feast</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVII'>108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Motto, “I Can”</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chVIII'>126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>IX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Searching for Rosy</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chIX'>143</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>X</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Nathalie as the Story Lady</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chX'>159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Princess in the Tower</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXI'>179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Wild-flower Hike</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXII'>194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Around the Cheer Fire</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIII'>213</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Overcomes</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIV'>230</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Chapter of Surprises</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXV'>250</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Pioneer Stunts</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVI'>270</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Liberty Banners</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVII'>289</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Princess Makes Two More Friends</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXVIII'>308</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Fagot Party</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXIX'>330</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XX</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Dutch <em>Kraeg</em></span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXX'>348</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>An Invitation</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXI'>366</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Camp Laff-a-Lot</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXII'>385</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIII</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Miss Camphelia</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIII'>403</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXIV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Wireless Operator</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXIV'>421</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:right; padding-right:1em;'>XXV</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:3em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Good-by to Eagle Lake</span></td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#chXXV'>438</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:larger;'>ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> +</div> +<table class='c' summary='loi'> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“What can I do for you? Are you in pain?”</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-fpc'><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-122'>122</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“Why, how did you get there?”</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-172'>172</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>“Oh, don’t be frightened!” exclaimed the princess, with a merry laugh</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-194'>194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>The rope had broken in her grasp</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-228'>228</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>Up went two hands in pretended subjugation</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-290'>290</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>With an unearthly shriek was flying across the lawn</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-338'>338</a></td></tr> +<tr><td valign='top' style='text-align:left; padding-right:1em;'>She dropped the ashes of Miss Dummy into the placid water</td><td valign='top' style='text-align:right;'><a href='#illus-436'>436</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<h1>BLUE ROBIN, THE GIRL PIONEER</h1> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span><a name='chI' id='chI'></a>CHAPTER I—THE NEST IN THE OLD CEDAR</h2> +<p> +Nathalie came running up the steps of the +veranda her brown eyes alight with excitement +as she cried, “Oh, Mother, what do you think? +Down in the old cedar-tree on the lawn is a nest of +tiny blue robins—they’re just the cutest things—do +come and see them!” +</p> +<p> +“Blue robins?” quizzed her brother Dick from +where he lay reading in the hammock. “Who ever +heard of blue robins?” +</p> +<p> +“I think she means bluebirds,” ventured Mrs. Page, +looking up from the morning paper and smiling at the +earnest young face of her daughter. Then her eyes +dimmed, but she winked her lashes quickly as if to restrain +a sudden rush of tears, rose in answer to the +note of appeal in the girl’s voice, and stepped to her +side. +</p> +<p> +A moment later they were strolling across the new-grown +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +grass of the lawn, the girl of sixteen supporting +the slender, black-gowned figure of her mother, whose +delicate, high-bred face with its impress of recent sorrow +defined the youthful glow of the one that smiled +upon her so tenderly. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Mumsie, look!” whispered the girl as she +pointed to a dark cavity in the trunk of the cedar but +a short distance from the ground; “see, are they not +robins?” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Page’s tired eyes brightened as she watched +with keen interest the five bobbing heads with open +bills, turweeing in hungry clamor, “Why no, Nathalie,” +she replied laughingly, “they are bluebirds.” +</p> +<p> +At this instant they spied the mother bird as she +flitted excitedly among the upper branches of the tree. +Drawing her mother to one side, Nathalie whispered +tensely, “Oh, there’s the mother bird—she wants to +feed them! Let’s see what she will do!” Nathalie’s +eyes sparkled expectantly. +</p> +<p> +It was quite evident what Mrs. Bluebird was going +to do, for she immediately jumped to the edge of the +nest and dropped a fat, squirming worm into an open +bill. As she poised over her nestlings she caught sight +of the two figures under the tree. In another instant +she had set up such a vigorous scolding that the interlopers +were quite disturbed. Seeing, however, that +they did not offer to molest her little ones, Mrs. Birdie +finally subsided, cocked her head perkily on one side, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +and watched them with eyes that shone like two fireflies. +</p> +<p> +Father bird now came flying up with another good-sized +wriggler in his beak, which mother bird, with +an eye to business, hastily snatched and dropped into +a wide-open bill. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Mother,” commented Nathalie, “do you see +that the father bird is much the handsomer of the two, +for he is of a deep blue color, while mother bird’s +feathers are grayish-blue.” +</p> +<p> +Her mother nodded as she answered, “Yes, and his +beautiful coat is in striking contrast to his throat and +breast, which are reddish-brown.” +</p> +<p> +“And the white feathers below,” continued Nathalie, +with keen eyes, “look like a white apron.” +</p> +<p> +“But come, dear,” interposed her mother, “we must +go back, for I hear Dick whistling—he is getting impatient—I +promised to get him a sofa pillow for the +hammock.” +</p> +<p> +As they stepped on the veranda, Dick inquired, with +sarcastic inflection, balancing himself on the edge of +the hammock and pushing it to and fro with his crutch, +“Well, how many blue robins did you find?” +</p> +<p> +“We found five tiny bluebirds,” responded his +mother with unwonted animation as she seated herself +in a low rocker, and then she continued in lower tone +as her daughter disappeared in quest of the pillow, +“Oh, Dick! I am so glad to see some color in Nathalie’s +cheeks again, for she has been looking very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span> +wan and pale. The poor child has not only suffered +the loss of her father, but she has had to give up so +many things—the very things, too, that a girl of her +age longs for so much!” Mrs. Page sighed drearily. +</p> +<p> +“Giving up college was the hardest,” added her son, +his face expressing the sympathy he hardly knew how +to voice; “but she’s a corker, for she has faced every +disappointment like a little hero. I didn’t know she +had so much pluck in her.” +</p> +<p> +“She takes after her father, he was always so cheerful +about facing the inevitable—” His mother’s lips +quivered; she paused as if to gain control of her voice +and then resumed brokenly, “Oh, Dick, to think he +has gone—it seems as if it could not be true—” +</p> +<p> +“True enough,” retorted Dick gruffly; and then he +added, in a softer voice, “but after all, Mother, every +one has to have trouble. We’re having ours just now—that’s +all—and we’ve got to bear it. Things might +have been worse, I suppose—we’ve got enough left to +live on—oh, if it wasn’t for this confounded knee of +mine—to be helpless when—” +</p> +<p> +“Hush, Dick, don’t say that,” cried his mother in +a pained voice; “just have patience, and you will be +all right; have patience with me, too, dear, because I +am such a coward to allow myself to get so depressed.” +She made a brave attempt at a smile. “It will be as +you say, all right soon.” +</p> +<p> +Hearing Nathalie’s step, she hastily hid her tear-stained +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +face behind the paper; then, as that young +woman threw the sofa pillow at Dick’s head, she exclaimed, +“I am so glad, Nathalie, to see you take an +interest in the new home. I think it is a lovely—” +</p> +<p> +“Doll’s house!” interposed the girl laughingly. +“But, O dear, I must be careful, for when I called it +a doll’s house while Mrs. Morton was here she looked +rather queer, and then I remembered that her house is +not much bigger. But do you know, Mother,” she +rattled on girlishly, “I think we are going to be quite +comfy in this little home—after a time of course,” +she hastened to add, “when we have become used to +the change—and all—” she stopped abruptly, for she, +too, was thinking of the dear father who had gone so +suddenly—without even saying good-by, as she had +so often wailed in the darkness of night—leaving +Mother with only a meager income, and with poor Dick +to take care of, and her and Dorothy, who didn’t know +enough to earn a penny! +</p> +<p> +A sudden slam of the door was heard, a “How are +you, Auntie?” in a sweet, assured voice, and then with +smiling eyes a tall, graceful, young woman, with shiny, +fluffy hair came forward and kissed her aunt +caressingly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Lucille, what do you think?” broke from +Nathalie impetuously; “I found a nest of tiny bluebirds +down in the old cedar-tree on the lawn!” +</p> +<p> +“Um-m, well, you are always finding something to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +enthuse over,” remarked her cousin with careless indifference, +“but I wish you would make that all-round +maid of yours do my room, I want to write a letter.” +There was spoiled impatience in the girl’s voice. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Page looked up with a startled expression as +she murmured apologetically, “Oh, I forgot, Lucille. +I will do it—I thought—” +</p> +<p> +“No, no, Mother,” came from Nathalie hurriedly, as +with heightened color and gentle insistence she forced +her mother back to her seat. “I will do it.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie disappeared within the door. She had +smiled sweetly for her mother’s sake, but as she went +up the stairs there was an upward lift to her chin that +showed that she had a will and a temper of some +weight. “Why is Lucille so mean,” she questioned +mutinously, “as not to make her own bed when she +knows that now we shall have to get along with only +one maid? Mother is not going to wait on her!” +Her eyes gleamed with angry decision, and then the +curves of her mouth softened as she struggled silently +with her jarring thoughts. +</p> +<p> +Yes, it must be borne, for was it not a part of the +great change that had come into her life with her first +great sorrow? The shock of her father’s death had +dazed her, and she had suffered in a dulled, uncomprehending +way until she was aroused from her grief by +the many anxieties and disappointing changes that the +financial tangle of her father’s affairs had caused. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +</p> +<p> +Leaving their beautiful city home, giving up the +many luxuries and the pleasures to which she had been +accustomed, parting from her school friends, and coming +to the unknown suburban town were bitter disappointments; +the one that cut the deepest was giving +up college, but the hardest to bear was Dick’s accident! +</p> +<p> +The next moment the girl was hard at work picking +up Lucille’s disordered room, humming cheerily as she +went about her task, for, after all, her cousin was independent—she +paid her board—and now they would +need every penny. +</p> +<p> +A resolute will and deft fingers can accomplish much +in this workaday world, and so Nathalie soon finished +her new job, as she called it, and sat on the veranda +watching the robins as they hopped nimbly over the +lawn, ducking their heads every minute or so to reappear +with fat, dangling worms in their beaks. +</p> +<p> +Their cheerful twitter, the budding leaves on trees +and bushes, and the many reminders of the revival of +life under the warmth and glow of the spring sunshine +thrilled her with exhilaration. Her depression vanished, +she felt happy again, but vaguely perhaps, +scarcely comprehending that the buoyancy of youth +and the joy of life were compensations that dulled the +harrowing edge of grief. +</p> +<p> +With a long breath, as if to capture as much as possible +of the spring balminess, Nathalie turned to see +her mother seated in the low chair, with her basket of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +mending, wearing the same dazed, worried look on her +face that had haunted the girl ever since their sorrow. +She became keenly aware that her tireless mother, who +had always stood ready to do the thousand and one +things that were constantly calling her, was failing. +Something swelled up in her throat, she fought +valiantly a moment, and then jumping up, she grabbed +the half-darned sock from her mother’s hand, pitched +it into the basket, picked it up and carried it over to +her chair. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Mumsie,” she declared in answer to her +mother’s startled look, “you are not to darn any more +stockings; henceforth your humble servant is to be +the champion mender.” Nathalie’s cheeks flushed, for +as she raised her eyes she encountered those of a young +girl about her own age who was just coming out of the +adjoining house. +</p> +<p> +As her neighbor saw Nathalie, she smiled a cheery +good-morning, showing a row of strong, white teeth, +and then strode down the walk with the light step and +easy swing of the athletic girl. +</p> +<p> +“Huh! what a queer rig,” commented Lucille, with +a supercilious raising of her eyebrows, as she noted +that the girl wore a short brown khaki skirt over +bloomers, a middy with a Turkey red tie, and a broad-brimmed +hat banded with red. “Is that the Salvation +Army’s summer apparel?” Then seeing that the girl +carried a strong staff in her hand, she added with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +giggle, “Or perhaps she is some aspiring member of +the militants.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, I think the uniform—for I presume it is +that—” interposed Mrs. Page, “is very attractive, and +most appropriate for a Girl Pioneer.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Mother, how do you know she is a Girl +Pioneer?” questioned Nathalie with mild amazement. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, I forgot to tell you that her mother, Mrs. +Dame, called the day you were out walking. She told +me that Helen, her only daughter, belongs to ‘The +Girl Pioneers of America.’” +</p> +<p> +“The Girl Pioneers of America!” repeated her +daughter; “why, I never heard of them. Is it a patriotic +society?” +</p> +<p> +“In a way I presume it is,” returned her mother, +“as it is an organization which trains girls to emulate +the sterling qualities of the early pioneer women.” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder what they do, and if it is anything like +the Boy Scouts!” continued Nathalie interestedly. +</p> +<p> +“I think from what Mrs. Dame told me that it must +be a sister society to that organization, for its object +is to awaken within the girls a desire for healthy, outdoor +activities, as well as a broad and useful life along +many lines. I am sure in these days, when girls are +so shallow and artificial-looking, and have no higher +thought than getting all the pleasure they can out of +life, that it is something which is sadly needed.” Mrs. +Page’s tones were expressive. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Aunt Mary,” demurred Lucille, looking up +with a frown from her novel, “one would think that +you expected girls to dress and act like their grandmothers. +I am sure one can be young but once, and +if one doesn’t have a good time then, what’s the use of +living? And for putting a little color on one’s face, +why, the most fashionable people do it nowadays.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Page’s face flushed slightly, but she replied with +quiet dignity, “I am surprised, Lucille, to hear you +talk that way, brought up as you have been, too. It +is true,” she continued, “that there is no harm in +wanting a good time—as you call it—that is youth’s +privilege, and no one wishes to turn youth into age, but +back of it all there should be common sense and a desire +for right living. As for putting artificial color on +a face that should represent the freshness and the +natural bloom of youth, why, to me it is demoralizing.” +</p> +<p> +Lucille frowned impatiently and resumed her reading. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Dame,” continued her aunt, turning towards +Nathalie, “said her daughter Helen was coming in to +call on you; she will probably give you all the information +you want about the new organization. I hope you +will like her, dear, for she seems a pleasant, well-bred +girl and surely will prove companionable to you. We +might as well, all of us, try to forget our city life with +its past pleasures, and see if we cannot adapt ourselves +to our surroundings.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +</p> +<p> +“Indeed I will try, Mumsie,” replied Nathalie with +a slight catch in her voice, as her thoughts turned back +to her chums in the city, and she wondered what they +would think of her humble little home. “But really, +Mother,” she spoke aloud, “I think Miss Dame has +an awfully bright face, and I wish she would call, for I +should like to know about the Girl Pioneers.” +</p> +<p> +A few days after the finding of the bluebird’s nest, +Nathalie, enlivened by the desire to investigate her surroundings, +and curious for new experiences, set forth +on a little exploring tour to the woods on the outskirts +of the town. She had tried to induce her cousin to +join her, but that young lady was absorbed in running +over a new ragtime song. Her sister Dorothy, aged +twelve, had also declined on the score that she had an +engagement with a girl neighbor who lived in the big +house down the road. +</p> +<p> +Sunshine and youth are joy-bearers, and as Nathalie +felt the air in fragrant little whiffs against her +cheeks, she thrilled with pleasure as she strode briskly +up the hill. A moment later, however, her shining +eyes shadowed, and she unconsciously shivered as she +encountered a cold glance from a lady, weirdly garbed +in gray, who was just passing. +</p> +<p> +The color flashed to her cheeks; she felt as if some +one had slapped her as the haunting vision of that uncanny +stare of aversion from two steely-gray eyes +penetrated her consciousness. Tempted by curiosity +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +she turned and watched the peculiar-looking figure as +it glided with almost specter-like swiftness down the +hill. +</p> +<p> +“I wonder who she is and why she gave me such a +harrowing glance,” thought Nathalie. “Whew! she +has frozen me stiff,” and then a laugh brightened the +brown eyes as she continued on her way. She had +almost reached the top of the hill when she saw a large +brown card on the walk. Picking it up she read, +“Westport Library,” and then the written name, +“Elizabeth Van Vorst.” Not a great loss, to be sure, +but likely to cause inconvenience. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I wonder if that lady didn’t drop it, she had +a book under her arm,” flashed into the girl’s mind. +She hesitated—she did not want to climb that long +hill again—but the next second she had whirled about +and was running lightly down the slope in the direction +of a Carnegie building that glimmered picturesquely +between green-boughed trees. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I beg your pardon,” panted Nathalie as she +held out the card to the gray lady who had just emerged +from the library and was looking vexedly about on +the walk in front of the building, “did you not lose +your library card?” +</p> +<p> +The lady turned sharply, stared suspiciously at the +girl a moment, and then, as her eyes fell upon the extended +card, exclaimed coldly, “Oh, did you find it? +Thank you, I am much obliged!” With a haughty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +glance of dismissal she turned and ascended the library +steps. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s eyes gleamed angrily, but with a toss of +her head she was off on her second trudge up the slope. +“Well, she is the limit—” she muttered. “Of all +hateful, disagreeable, peculiar, mysterious creatures, she +takes first rank.” But when the girl reached the woods +where the new-gowned trees and the white blossoms of +the dogwood, which she had spied the day before, riding +in a trolley car, rustled softly in the sunlight, as if in +a spring greeting to the flower-seeker, the unpleasant +incident was forgotten. +</p> +<p> +With eager eyes and cheeks aglow she began to break +off a sprig here and there, lingering only to caress the +snowy petals that tantalizingly brushed her cheek. +</p> +<p> +“What a beauty!” she exclaimed as she suddenly +halted; “it will be just the spray to sketch.” Up went +her arm—a little higher—and then something went +from under her; she tried to regain her footing, but +slipped again on the moist turf. She felt her foot turn, +and then came a sharp twinge that whitened her lips as +she dropped, a helpless heap, on the ground. +</p> +<p> +For a few moments the girl forgot her dogwood blossoms, +the slip, and the pain, and then she opened her +eyes to realize, with a pang of dismay, that she must +have fainted. Oh, she must have twisted her ankle, +for when she tried to stand she almost screamed with +the knife-like twinges. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +</p> +<p> +She leaned her head against the tree with closed +eyes, trying to think, but her thoughts seemed to run +around in a circle, for she could see no way out of her +dilemma. She was too far from the trolley line to +hail a car, or to beckon to any passer-by who might +be on the road. +</p> +<p> +She thought ruefully of how worried her mother +would be if she did not return before dark. And who +was there to look for her? Dick was helpless with +his crutch, Dorothy would not be home until late, and +Lucille—well, whoever heard of Lucille ever doing +anything for any one but herself? +</p> +<p> +She screamed, but when her voice rang out with +reverberating shrillness she clapped her hands to her +ears. She would sing; and her fresh young voice +broke forth into ragtime song. +</p> +<p> +But the ragtime quivered pathetically into a half-wail. +What should she do? At last in sheer desperation +she began to sing hymns; but they sounded +so doleful in her nervous state that she desisted with a +sound that was half a sob and half a laugh. She was +about to embrace resignation to fate when she caught +the glimmer of a brown skirt between the low-hung +branches of the trees near by. In a moment there +was a sharp crack of a twig, and Nathalie with a sudden +exclamation of joy saw a young girl coming quickly +toward her, wearing the same kind of a brown uniform +she had perceived on her neighbor a few days ago. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, are you hurt?” asked the girl quickly, as she +saw Nathalie’s white face resting against the tree. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, attempting to smile, told of her mishap, +and then with widening eyes saw the girl run a few +steps into the open. Then the short, staccato whistle +of Bob White struck the air. +</p> +<p> +It was hardly a moment when, in response to this +bird-call, several girls appeared in the opening beyond. +A few hurried words with the girl who had signaled +them, and they were around Nathalie, listening to the +story of her accident. +</p> +<p> +After expressing their sympathy, two of the taller +girls quickly slipped off their khaki skirts, unbuttoned +them, and then, to the injured one’s amazement, one +of the girls pushed her staff through the belt of one +skirt and hem of the other, while her companion did +the same with her staff. They were improvising a +stretcher, as neat and comfortable-looking as if it had +just been removed from an ambulance. +</p> +<p> +While the stretcher was being made, one of the girls +had taken from her knapsack a small black case from +which she extracted a bottle. Hastily kneeling on the +ground, after Nathalie’s boot had been removed by her +assistant, she bathed the injured foot, then, as her companion +handed her a roll of white lint she bound it with +a cotton compress, while Nathalie, with much curiosity, +watched her as she quickly and skillfully performed +the work of First Aid to the Injured. As she rose to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +her feet and turned to direct her companions in the +lifting of her patient on the stretcher, Nathalie recognized +her next-door neighbor, Helen Dame, the Girl +Pioneer! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span><a name='chII' id='chII'></a>CHAPTER II—HER NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR</h2> +<p> +If Nathalie was surprised at the deftness and resourcefulness +of these Girl Pioneers, she was +amazed at the ease and comfort she experienced +as the four girls strode forward, two at the head and +two at the foot of the improvised stretcher. +</p> +<p> +Notwithstanding the sharp twinges in her foot, she +felt as if she could have dropped into a doze if a sudden, +jarring thought had not caused her to raise her +head in search of her next-door neighbor. By the decision +of her voice and her methodical manner of directing +her companions as they prepared the “bed of +ease,” Nathalie had recognized this girl as the leader. +</p> +<p> +But Helen Dame was not to be seen. One of the +girls, however, on seeing Nathalie’s movement, commanded +a halt and hastened to her side. “What can I +do for you?” she inquired in an anxious tone. “Are +you in pain?” +</p> +<p> +Her ready sympathy brought the tears to Nathalie’s +eyes, for her nerves were somewhat under a strain, but +she fought them bravely back, and looking up with a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +reassuring smile replied, “Oh no, I am all right, but +I was looking for Miss Dame. I am afraid if Mother +sees me on a stretcher, she will think something very +dreadful has happened.” +</p> +<p> +“Ah, Helen thought of that,” was the quick reply, +“and she has gone ahead to tell your mother that you +have only hurt your foot, and to see if she can get Dr. +Morrow to come over and look at it.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how kind of her—and of you all—” there +was a slight tremor in Nathalie’s voice. “I am sure +I do not know what would have become of me, alone +there in the woods, if you girls had not come to my +rescue.” +</p> +<p> +As the girls walked slowly on with their burden, +the one walking by the side of the stretcher told Nathalie +that they were a group of Girl Pioneers, that they +had been on a hike, and that her name was Grace Tyson. +As they chatted pleasantly, Nathalie told of her +recent removal from the city to Westport. With wise +forethought she suppressed all mention of her former +wealth and the many luxuries she had been used to, +for fear that these suburban girls, not comprehending, +might misjudge her and think that she considered herself +above them. She had learned from the girls of +her own set in school that when a newcomer took particular +care to advise them how rich she was, her mates +usually dubbed her a snob. So she only told of her +great loss in the death of her father, how Dick, her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +older brother, had injured his knee in an accident and +was an invalid, and how she liked her new home. +</p> +<p> +In the companionship of this new girl she scarcely +realized how quickly the time had passed until she saw +her mother’s anxious face bending over her, and heard +a masculine voice say, “Well, is this the young lady +who reached too high?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie looked quickly up and immediately her heart +went out to this big, bluff man with iron-gray hair and +kindly blue eyes who picked her up as if she had been +a manikin, carried her into the hall, and laid her on the +couch. She recognized the face of the doctor who +lived on the opposite corner whom she had often envied +as he went chugging down the street in his automobile. +</p> +<p> +After the doctor had pressed her foot here and there +with a touch as soft as silk from the gentleness of +trained fingers, he brought forth some surgical plaster +from a black case, and strapped the injured member, +remarking as he did so on the surgeon-like way in +which Miss Dame had bandaged it. +</p> +<p> +After the “exam,” as Dick called it, was over, the +doctor explained the case as a few strained ligaments, +and said that with care his patient would be able to +walk in about a week. +</p> +<p> +“A week?” sprang from the young girl involuntarily. +Dismay shone in her eyes, but the doctor, with +a fatherly pat, assured her that she had great cause +for gratitude, as it might have been much worse. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +</p> +<p> +“The next time you go to gather dogwood blossoms, +young lady,” he advised jovially, “wear rubber heels, +and then you won’t slip on stones.” +</p> +<p> +As the doctor bade her good afternoon, promising to +come again in a few days to see how the foot was +progressing, Nathalie thought of her rescuers, and +raising her head peered anxiously around. +</p> +<p> +“The girls have gone, but they left a good-by for +you,” her mother answered to her look of inquiry, +“and Miss Dame says she will be in to-morrow to see +how you are.” +</p> +<p> +By to-morrow Nathalie had begun to think it was not +at all unpleasant to be a short-time invalid, and she +jokingly requested her mother to see that her head was +not screwed around from sheer conceit at being the +recipient of so much attention. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow, the doctor’s young wife, had sent her +a beautiful bunch of yellow daffodils from the very +garden that Nathalie had been admiring all the week, +while the little, silver-haired old lady next door—Nathalie +could have hugged her, she looked so grand-motherly—had +sent her a snow-frosted nut-cake. +Lucille—an unheard-of thing—had condescended to +alight from her pedestal of self and had played and +sung Nathalie’s favorite selections all the morning. +Even Dorothy, whose engagement book was always +brimming over, had darned stockings for her. Of +course, Nathalie knew that she would have to rip out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +every stitch, but that was the child’s way of showing +that she, too, wanted to be sympathetic and kind. +</p> +<p> +The success of the day, however, was when Helen +Dame’s dark eyes smiled at her from the adjoining +porch, and she asked if Nathalie felt like chatting for +a while. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed I do,” answered Nathalie animatedly, “I +have been just dying to talk with you ever since you +were so kind.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how sweet you look!” exclaimed Helen a few +moments later as she shook hands with the patient, +“with your pink ribbons—just the color of your +cheeks.” For the girl’s color had deepened as her +visitor laid a bunch of violets on her lap. “These are +from the girls, the Girl Pioneers—that is our Pioneer +song,” she added laughingly. +</p> +<p> +“I just love violets!” Nathalie sniffed at the purple +petals. “And the girls, do you mean the ones who +so kindly came to my aid the other day? Oh, Miss +Dame, I hardly know how to express my appreciation +of your kindness,” her voice trembled slightly, “in +hurrying home to tell Mother.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that was nothing,” replied Helen with assumed +indifference, although her eyes darkened in appreciation +of Nathalie’s gratefulness, “that was only courtesy; +you know we are Girl Pioneers, and kindness is +one of the laws of the organization.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you know,” Nathalie broke in impulsively, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +“Mother thinks the girls very clever in making that +stretcher; do tell me about the Girl Pioneers!” She +hesitated for a moment. “Perhaps I am very ignorant, +but I never heard of them until your mother +told mine that you were a Girl Pioneer.” +</p> +<p> +Helen laughed with a gratified gleam in her eyes. +“Oh, Mother!—she thinks it just the dandiest thing +going. Mrs. Morrow, our Director, introduced the +movement here. The founder is a friend of hers, so +she is steeped to her finger-tips with it. +</p> +<p> +“She started me going—enthusiasm is contagious, +you know—and I organized the first group. A group +means six or eight girls; several groups form what is +called a band.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you mean Mrs. Morrow, the doctor’s wife?” +inquired her companion. “She must be lovely, for she +looks so pretty flitting about the garden,” turning wistful +eyes toward the corner house with its flower beds +and green lawn. “I often watch her from my +window.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, she is a dear,” assented Helen, “and we girls +adore her. Have you seen the twins?” +</p> +<p> +“The kiddies who go about in khaki uniforms and +carry little poles.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, baby Boy Scouts. You should hear them +call themselves ‘the twims’; they both lisp. But there, +I must tell you about the Pioneers—but I don’t want +to tire you,” she paused abruptly, “for Mother says +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +there is no end to me when I get talking on that +subject.” +</p> +<p> +“But I want to hear about them!” pleaded Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +“Well, after I organized the group, the girls elected +me leader, and Grace Tyson—that’s the girl who +walked beside you coming home—my assistant. You +see every group has to have a leader and an assistant +from the group, and then when a band is formed there +is a Director. Any one over twenty-one years of age +can be a Director. After we formed our group, we +had to get busy and qualify.” +</p> +<p> +“Qualify?” repeated her hostess, “that sounds big.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, every Girl Pioneer has to qualify, that is to +pass several tests to prove that she is competent to do +the work. It is no end of fun training a girl to qualify, +for you know she has to recite the Girl Pioneer pledge, +and the Pioneer laws; she must give the names of the +President and Vice-President of the United States, +the name of the Governor of the State in which she +lives, and then tell all about our country’s flag. She +must know how to sew a button on properly,” Helen +made a grimace, “to tie a square knot and to do several +other things. After a girl has passed these tests, +she becomes a third-class Pioneer; then after a month +she can qualify for a second-class Pioneer, and finally +for a first-class Pioneer. We can win merit badges, +too, for proficiency in certain lines. Yes, you are +right, it is a big thing to be a Girl Pioneer, for every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +true Pioneer’s aim is to be courageous, resourceful, and +upright, under all circumstances and in all emergencies. +</p> +<p> +“You know, we have to pledge ourselves to speak +the truth at all times, to be honest in all things, and to +obey the Pioneer law.” Helen’s face grew serious. +“Yes, and our laws mean something, too, for they +stand for the doing of things that are worth while, +the things that develop nobility of character, for, as +Mrs. Morrow tells us, it is character that makes the +great men and women of the world. +</p> +<p> +“But don’t think we are serious all the time,” she +continued, her eyes brightening, “for we have heaps +of fun. We take hikes; sometimes just a group go +with their leader, but generally our Director takes the +band. On these hikes we study woodcraft; that means +we study the birds, their habits, and learn to know their +songs and call-notes. We gather wild flowers, ferns, +and grasses, and each girl reads up about the particular +thing she finds and passes the information along. We +study the trees, and the animals also by tracking their +footmarks—well, to sum it all up, we study nature +from growing things and living creatures. +</p> +<p> +“To read about things in a book is all right, Mrs. +Morrow says, as it is helpful in identification and suggestion, +but we strive to know things through personal +experience. We are taught to find nature, too, in the +crowded cities. That’s big, isn’t it?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span> +</p> +<p> +“Big!” echoed Nathalie, “the word <em>big</em> isn’t big +enough to express it. I should say it meant—well”—she +held out her arms, “the universe.” +</p> +<p> +There was something so responsive in her words and +attitude, although they did not exactly express what +she meant to convey, that Helen, with almost boyish +frankness, held out her hand, crying, “Good! let’s +shake. You are simply immense, Miss Page, or, in +the words of our old French professor at school, ‘you—haf—much +com—pree—henshun!’” This was +said in mimic tone with laughing eyes, a shrug of the +shoulders, and with outspread hands. +</p> +<p> +“We have indoor rallies, or Pioneer circles, also, +Miss Page, when our Director gives us delightful little +talks on ethical culture,—only ten minutes—” she +pleaded laughingly, “also on history, astronomy,—we +call them our star talks,—and other instructive +subjects. +</p> +<p> +“You will be surprised, perhaps, but these talks are +very interesting, not at all tiresome. The girls listen +with all their ears and we learn an awful lot. One reason +is that Mrs. Morrow loves young girls—for you +see, she isn’t so very much older than we are—and +she knows just how to talk to us, so that we don’t feel +as if we were being preached at, or having wisdom +jammed down our throats. It is just dramatizing serious +things through play, so as to make us remember +them as well as entertaining us. Then we have spelling-contests, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +cooking-matches,—I call them trials by +fire,—sewing-bees, and all sorts of old-fashioned +things.” +</p> +<p> +“But you have outdoor sports, too, do you not?” +asked her listener, who was intensely interested. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed we do, any number of them: swimming, +horseback-riding, rowing, canoeing, basket-ball, tennis, +dancing, stilt-walking,—we make our own stilts,—kite-flying,—and +we make our own kites, too. In +fact, we do just about everything that stands for healthful +recreation and wholesome fun. Isn’t that comprehensive +enough?” +</p> +<p> +“How did you come to take the name ‘Pioneer’?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you see it was this way; as the Boy Scouts +strive to imitate the chivalry and higher qualities of the +knights of olden times, so we, their sister organization, +endeavor to emulate the sterling qualities of the early +pioneer women. They learned to be courageous, resourceful, +and efficient, as the home-makers of the +brave men who founded this Republic—” +</p> +<p> +“Do you mean the wives of the Puritans and +Pilgrims?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, we mean all those women, North, East, South, +and West,” Helen declared smilingly, “who helped +their good men to build homes in the wilderness, who +mothered their children with Spartan-like denial, and +who—yes, who knew how to handle an old flintlock +when they heard the cry of the Indian. Oh, no, I’m +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +not originating, I am only an echo of Mrs. Morrow, +who is way up on Colonial history. +</p> +<p> +“The Pioneer Girls,” she continued more seriously, +“aim, by imitating the many qualities of these splendid +women, to be worthy wives and mothers. Who +knows?” she broke into a laugh, “the Girl Pioneers +may be the mothers of men like Washington, Lincoln—O +dear,” she stopped suddenly, “I am talking as if +I had to speed a thousand words a minute!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, go on!” cried Nathalie, inspired by her guest’s +fervency, “I just love to hear you talk.” +</p> +<p> +“It is very good of you to say that,” declared Helen +with a slight blush, “but I am almost ‘at the finish,’ +as the boys say. But I must not forget to tell you that +we love to gather around the open fire, cheer fires we +call them, and tell stories. We generally try to make +them stories about the pioneers, or heroic women, and +sometimes we run in a story about some brave kiddie, +for you know almost every one loves to hear about +brave little children. Ah, that reminds me, did you +ever hear about Mary Chilton? She was a real pioneer +girl you know, for she came over with the Pilgrims.” +Helen nodded her head impressively. +</p> +<p> +“No, I have read about Lola Standish, and I believe—yes—I +saw her sampler once, and I am quite +up on all the points of Priscilla’s courtship, but—” +</p> +<p> +“Who isn’t?” replied Miss Dame, “for she was a +dear. Mary Chilton was a friend of hers. Why, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +don’t you remember she was the girl who made the bet +with John Alden—slow old John—that when the +little shallop struck Plymouth Rock (of course they +never dreamed that they were going to make that old +rock immortal) that she would jump on the rock first; +and sure enough she did manage to land a second or +so before John Alden.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, the Girl Pioneers aim high,” declared Nathalie, +“and I certainly think they must be worthwhile +girls. I shall love to meet your Pioneer friends—they +cheered me up—” she added, “for they made +me think of the girls at school, especially Grace Tyson. +Why, she is so much like my chum that it almost seemed +as if I were talking to her the other day! Your friends +all have such happy faces, and ‘it is such a relief to see +good red cheeks as made by Mother Nature,’ as Mother +says. Some of the girls one sees in the cities nowadays +have such a made-up appearance, especially those on +the avenue Saturday afternoons in New York.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, they have regular clown faces with their +splashes of red, and their powdered noses,” returned +her neighbor laughingly. “I always feel as if I +wanted to tell them they had forgotten to rub the flour +off. It doesn’t seem possible that any well-bred girl +could think she looks nice all dabbed up in that way. +But there, I am tiring you,” she added hastily, “so I +am going to say good-by. Oh, I came very near forgetting +to ask if you would like to have the girls call on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +you—I mean the girls of our group?” she hesitated. +“I think you would like them, although they may not +be as fashionable as your city friends.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but they are the kind of girls I like,” protested +Nathalie hurriedly, “for I do not care for girls who +are nothing but fuss and feathers. Please do bring +your friends, for I know I shall like them, and then, too, +they may tell me more about the good times you have.” +</p> +<p> +“Indeed they will,” said Helen with decision; “they +will be only too pleased. When shall we come, will +Thursday be a good day for you?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, indeed; I shall be here—still in this old chair +I presume; I shall watch for them with great impatience, +for you know,” she added a little sadly, “they +remind me of my schoolmates in the city. Oh, I have +missed them dreadfully! Now, be sure to come—all +of you!” +</p> +<p> +She rose in her chair to wave a good-by to her new +friend, who, as she reached the gate, had turned and +waved her hand. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie sank back in her chair with tear-dimmed +eyes, for somehow that friendly salute had brought it +all back—the faces of her merry comrades, and the +happy care-free hours they had spent together. She +swallowed hard, for Helen had waved her hand just +the way the girls used to do when they came in afternoons +for a chatty little visit, and then hurried away +with just such a parting salute. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span><a name='chIII' id='chIII'></a>CHAPTER III—GIRL PIONEERS</h2> +<p> +“Oh, I wish you would tell me something about +your school life in New York,” begged +Helen wistfully; “I had a friend who used +to go to one of the high schools. I hear they are very +fine.” +</p> +<p> +It was Thursday, the day the Girl Pioneers were to +call on Nathalie, and Helen Dame had run over a few +moments before their arrival to have a short chat with +her new friend. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—I,” Nathalie hesitated with rising color, “I +did not go to high school. Yes, I know they are very +fine, but I attended a private school kept by Madame +Chemidlin.” +</p> +<p> +An “oh!” escaped Helen involuntarily, as her eyes +gloomed a little, but her companion plunged recklessly +on. +</p> +<p> +“It is considered one of the finest schools in the city, +because, well, for one thing, Madame is adorable, her +father was one of the nobility, a political refugee from +France, and then because the girls who attend come +from the best families in New York. They were just +dears—” with a sigh of regret—“Nellie Blinton, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +was my chummiest chum, she’s the one I told you Miss +Tyson reminded me of, she has the same kind of a +face as Nell, with big, dark eyes and the same gentle, +ladylike way about her that my friend has. +</p> +<p> +“Then there was Puss Davidson, she’s awfully +clever. She writes stories, and last year won a gold +medal from St. Nicholas. She was Valedictorian +of our class last Spring. You know I graduated then, +but took a post-graduate course last winter and expected +to enter college this fall, but now, of course, +things are different.” She spoke a little sadly. +</p> +<p> +Helen could not help feeling somewhat disappointed +as she heard about these rich schoolmates of Nathalie’s; +she had taken a great liking to this girl with the daintily +colored face with its rounding curves, lighted by eyes +that held you captive with their frank, direct gaze. +Although bright and clever-looking, this Girl Pioneer +possessed no claim to beauty, for, as she ruefully commented +at times, she had a nose with a knob on it. +For that reason, perhaps, being free from that enviousness +that characterizes so many girls, she was a beauty-lover. +Too often she had made friends with girls just +because they appealed to her love for the beautiful, +only to realize when it was too late that good looks do +not always mean pleasing traits of character. In fact, +Helen was somewhat tired of being disappointed, and +had vowed to her mother that she was never again +going to care for a pretty girl. She was not sure that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +Nathalie was a real beauty, but surely, with her lovely +brown eyes and the gracious little way she had, not at +all self-conscious, but just real “self,” she was in a +fair way to become very popular with the girls. +</p> +<p> +Her eyes clouded momentarily and something caused +an unpleasant jar. No, she was not jealous of Nathalie, +for she was willing to have her know and be +liked by the other girls, but as she had been the first +one to know her, she wanted to be her special friend. +But then if she had always had so many high-toned +schoolmates, perhaps she would not care to be a friend +to a girl who was learning to be a wage-earner. Helen +had always felt proud to think that some day she could +be ranked among that class of highly regarded women, +but would Nathalie think as she did? +</p> +<p> +There was something so straightforward, however, +so honest, about Nathalie as she went on and told of +her studies, her friends, and a few of the incidents in +her school life in the big city, that Helen forgot her +fears, and was compelled to believe that she would be +doing her an injustice in fearing that she would choose +her companions for what they had and not for what +they were. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, here they come!” cried Nathalie at this moment +as she caught a glimpse of a group of girls in +brown uniforms coming down the street. She half +rose from her chair and with sparkling eyes watched +them as they came, a dozen or more, perhaps, up the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +steps of the veranda. In another second her eyes grew +big as she saw each girl’s hand placed quickly over her +heart, then up to her forehead, and lastly held with open +palm at a level with the right shoulder. It was the +Girl Pioneers’ salute to their leader, for Helen with a +sudden straightening of the shoulders had responded +to the greeting with a similar movement. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie had already stepped forward, leaning on +Dick’s crutch,—he had been relegated to the couch in +the hall,—and was crying, as her color came and went +in pink flushes, “Oh, I am so glad to see you!” extending +her hand to the foremost girl, Grace Tyson. “I +think it’s just lovely for you all to come to see me!” +nodding towards the rest of the group, with eyes that +attested the cordiality of her welcome. She stopped +abruptly, for the girls had broken forth into +</p> +<p> + “Hear! hear! hear! Girl Pioneer!<br /> + Come, give a cheer, G-i-r-l Pi-o-neer!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“And a cheer for our hostess!” added Grace Tyson, +lifting up her hand as she faced her companions. +Before Nathalie could catch her breath there came another +ringing cheer as each girl with smiling eyes +shouted, +</p> +<p> + “Hear! hear! a cheer for Nathalie dear!<br /> + Girl Pi-o-neer! Girl Pi-o-neer!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +If Nathalie’s color had been going and coming, it +now flooded her face as she laughingly held out her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +hand to each one in turn, giving a soft little squeeze +that made each girl vote her a comrade. +</p> +<p> +Grace and Helen now led Nathalie back to her chair, +somewhat solicitous as to the sprained foot; but she +laughingly assured them that she was all right. Then +with animated eyes she bowed and smiled as Helen, +who was spokesman for the group, began to introduce +each one of the Pioneers in turn, in an offhand, half +quizzing way that relieved the formality of the ceremony. +</p> +<p> +“This is Miss Jessie Ford, our literary scribe and +Editor-in-chief of ‘The Pioneer,’ a penny newspaper +issued monthly, devoted to the news and doings of the +Girl Pioneers.” +</p> +<p> +Jessie, a wholesome-looking girl with golden hair +worn in a coronet braid, and with bright, keen eyes, +shook hands pleasantly, half smiling at the words of +their leader. “Yes, she is clever, our Jess, and progressive, +too,” went on Helen, her eyes twinkling, +“which means a lot in these times.” There was the +suspicion of laughter in her tone. +</p> +<p> +“That she’s progressive can’t be denied,” interposed +Grace Tyson laughingly, “for when we had a Pioneer +party a short time ago, Jess wasn’t going to be outdone +by any newspaper reporter and wrote a detailed description +of each girl’s costume and sent it to the ‘Town +Journal.’ The paper appeared the afternoon of the +‘come-off,’ one of the girls saw the article, and suggested +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +as a joke that we all change costumes. O dear, +what a laugh we had on Jess!” +</p> +<p> +Miss Jessie, however, only smiled at all of this chaffing, +as if proud of this proof of her alertness and +stepped to one side. +</p> +<p> +“And this bluebird—oh, Miss Page did I tell you +that each Pioneer group is named after a bird, and that +ours is the Bluebird Group?” Helen had forgotten +her teasing tone in her eagerness to impart this information. +</p> +<p> +“What a pretty idea,” responded Nathalie, “and +bluebird, the name of your group!” thinking of the nest +of bluebirds she had found down in the old cedar. +</p> +<p> +Helen nodded with pleasure and then said, “This +is Miss Kitty Corwin; we call her our pot-boiler—that +means that Kitty always manages to keep the pot boiling +not only by holding up her end of the line, but all +the other ends, too, when the derelict Girl Pioneers forget +to do so.” +</p> +<p> +“And you might say she always carries all the pots +and pans, too, when there’s a hike,” interposed the newcomer, +with a nervous laugh. She was an awkward-looking +girl about fourteen, all arms and elbows, but +with a rather winsome face lighted by big, serious eyes. +There was such nervous activity about her grip as she +yanked Nathalie’s hand like a pump-handle that that +young lady had no doubts as to her surplus energy. +As Kitty tried to make her escape there was a suppressed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +howl, and then a twitter, for alas, she had +backed into one of her companions with such force +that the victim almost lost her balance. +</p> +<p> +The girls, each one smiling, but with a palpitating +heart as if doubtful what Helen would say when her +turn came, all looked up expectantly as a tall girl, somewhat +older than the others, but with a certain dash +about her that added to her charm, came forward. +She moved with willowy grace and had an ease of +manner that accentuated the Pot-Boiler’s embarrassed +movements. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Page, allow me to introduce you to Miss Lillie +Bell.” There was a certain emphasis in Helen’s tone +as she presented this pretty, attractive girl, that indicated +her pride in one of the most popular girls belonging +to the group. +</p> +<p> +Miss Bell smiled in a self-assured manner as Helen +introduced her, and then greeted Nathalie with sweet +graciousness as she waited expectantly for her characterization +to be given. +</p> +<p> +“Lillie is our story-teller,” continued Helen with a +gleam of mischief in her eyes, “a would-be thriller, for +we all shiver with the creeps when she begins her yellow-journal +romances. Her specialty is ghost tales, +the kind that, as we sit in the dark around our cheer +fire, its glare (blood-red, please note), casting weird +shadows over our pallid faces—” Helen intoned in +tragic burlesque, and then stopped with a laugh. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +</p> +<p> +Lillie Bell, however, did not appear at all annoyed +at this banter, but returned coolly, “I hope Miss Page, +you will not believe all Helen says, for she dotes on +teasing, but we get even with her when the chance +comes.” From a certain gleam in the smiling gray +eyes Nathalie did not doubt her, but as her voice was +musical, and her manner impressive, bordering on the +dramatic, she wished she could hear one of her thrillers. +</p> +<p> +“Observe,” tantalized the spokesman as Lillie disappeared +and her place was taken by a young girl who +looked as if she was all blood and muscle, with ruddy +cheeks, alert eyes, and the poise and bearing of one who +was a frequenter of the gym. +</p> +<p> +As Helen said, “This is Miss Edith Whiton,” she +made an old-time curtsy, “generally dubbed the Sport, +as she is the champion knee-doubler, arm-stretcher, toe-raiser, +and all the rest of the ball-and-socket team.” +</p> +<p> +With attempted nonchalance Edith twisted her +shoulders and flashed Helen a quick glance as much as +to say, “Wait, my turn is coming later!” She then +stepped forward and shook Nathalie’s hand, smiling +pleasantly down at her with frank friendliness. +</p> +<p> +As she made her way back to her seat, a pale, studious-looking +young girl with a head that looked almost +top-heavy with its black braids, and who wore glasses, +presented herself before Nathalie. She smiled nervously +as Helen began, “Oh, this owl-like individual is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +Barbara Worth; she is very learned—she knows it +all.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Helen!” came in pained expostulation from +the girl, as her eyes turned distressfully upon her +hostess in shamed embarrassment. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Barbara, don’t mind,” spoke up Lillie Bell +kindly, “Helen is only in fun.” +</p> +<p> +Barbara looked somewhat relieved at this brace to +her injured feelings, and then stood nervously clasping +and unclasping her hands together. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” went on Helen relentlessly, “we call her the +Encyclopedia for short. Wait until you want to know +something in a hurry, she will help you out, for she +has the best heart in the world.” With a little ripple +of laughter Helen leaned forward and looking up at +Barbara cried, “There, did I say anything so dreadful?” +</p> +<p> +Barbara smiled gratefully and then said quietly, +“Yes, Miss Page, I have a fine library, it is grandfather’s, +and I shall—” she drew a deep breath—“always +be glad to live up to my name.” +</p> +<p> +There was loud clapping at this brave remark and +then she was gone, but in her place stood a little lass +who smiled bewitchingly at the girl in the chair, showing +a coy little dimple in one cheek, and then with a +slight frown waited for her executioner to behead her. +</p> +<p> +“This little damsel is Louise Gaynor,” introduced +Helen; “she is the Flower of the family—spelt both +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +ways. We call her flower, because she resembles one,” +Louise bowed prettily with a surprised glance, “and +then because she is an expert manipulator of the flour +bag; she makes most edible flapjacks when we go on a +hike. It is needless to say that we always have indigestion +afterwards.” There was a laugh at this, and +then as the Flower disappeared, Helen drew to her side +a diminutive girl who wore her flaxen hair in two +large braids down her back. With her broad, good-natured +face and cornflower blue eyes she was a miniature +Gretchen. +</p> +<p> +“This is Carol Tyke—we spell it T-i-k-e, because +she is a tike and the fag of the group as well.” The +little girl, who was about eleven, but small for her +age, grinned at Nathalie and ducked her head. “She +is a Junior Pioneer, not yet twelve. But we have her +in training and she is taking tests daily, which doesn’t +give her much leisure time, does it, Tike?” +</p> +<p> +At last, much to Nathalie’s relief, the introductions +were over, and then she listened intently as the girls +began to tell her of a hike they had taken the week before, +when one of their number had found a hundred +different leaf specimens. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it was a leaf hike,” said Grace. “We all +have our own note-books; and make impressions from +the leaves; that is, we print them in our books, and +then write the date of the hike, the name of the leaf, +and any other data we have gathered.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +</p> +<p> +“I should think it would be very interesting,” remarked +her listener, as she thought of the outings she +and her schoolmates used to take on Saturday mornings +when they visited Bronx Park, and studied “cooped-up +nature” as one of the girls used to call it, when they +eyed some fierce monarch of the forest in his iron cage, +or exclaimed over the beauties of some hot-house +flower. +</p> +<p> +“We are going to have a wild-flower hike soon,” +volunteered the Tike, smiling at Nathalie in a most +friendly manner. “The Sport says there are a lot of +beautiful flowers in the woods near Edgemere, didn’t +you, Sport?” +</p> +<p> +“But I wish you would tell me something about your +tests—is that what you call them?” Nathalie asked. +“I should think they would be no end of fun if they +mean making one do stunts, or anything in the hazing +line?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, we do not haze, or anything of that sort, for +that would not be kind, and kindness is one of the laws +of the Girl Pioneer,” explained Grace. “By tests we +mean trying to see what a girl can do that is useful, +and if she can’t do it, we teach her. We have to sew, +cook, and know all the emergency things.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean the First Aid to the Injured methods,” +corrected Helen; “knowing what to do to revive a person +when almost drowned, how to put out a fire—” +</p> +<p> +“How to bathe and bandage a sprained foot—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t tell me you know that,” cried Nathalie +with sparkling eyes, “for I know by experience,” and +then she told the girls what the doctor had said about +Helen’s skillful way of binding her foot—in spite of +that young lady’s blushes at this open praise—and +how clever her mother thought the girls were for the +ready way in which they had made the stretcher from +their khaki skirts. +</p> +<p> +“Then we have to know how to restore a person +who has fainted,” some one volunteered. +</p> +<p> +“And learn the Fireman’s Lift,” added another girl. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, let’s tell things from the beginning!” interrupted +some methodical girl from the farther end of +the porch. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but I told Miss Page—” Helen stopped, for +her hostess was looking at her with beseeching eyes, +clearly due to the formal title. +</p> +<p> +“Won’t you please call me Nathalie?” the owner of +that name ventured with a coaxing little smile. +</p> +<p> +“If you will say Helen,” replied the girl with evident +delight. +</p> +<p> +The girls both laughed, shook hands on it, and then +Helen continued. “Yes, I told Nathalie all about the +tests for the third-class Pioneer. Well, to become a +second-class Pioneer it is necessary to have been a +third-class Pioneer for at least a month. Then you +have to know how to cook a piece of meat properly—” +</p> +<p> +“Boil a potato as it should be done!” interrupted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +Lillie Bell. This was impressively said, and followed +by a chime of laughter from the girls. +</p> +<p> +“And make a coal fire in a cooking-stove—ye +stars!” ejaculated Grace, “when I made my first, I +literally smoked every one in the house to a ham—but +when I made my first out-of-door fire—” +</p> +<p> +“You didn’t do any better,” cried Lillie Bell irrelevantly, +“for you sooted the whole bunch of us.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Lillie,” cried Grace in dismayed tone, “that +wasn’t from making the fire, for I was the only one +who made it with a single match, but it was from putting +it out.” +</p> +<p> +“Now girls, don’t tell tales; for, as Mrs. Morrow +says, we are all breakable and no one should cast the +first stone,” called out their leader. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, the tests are all easy but the next one,” cried +Edith Whiton, “that is not a cinch by any means: how +to remove a cinder from the eye—” +</p> +<p> +“Or any other foreign substance!” +</p> +<p> +“We have to know all the primary colors, too,” +went on Edith. +</p> +<p> +“Pshaw, any kindergarten kid knows that,” spoke +the Encyclopedia, who up to this moment had taken +no part in this flow of information, “but to tie a bundle +properly, that means hard labor.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, indeed,” added Jessie Ford quickly, “one has +to have an awful lot of practice to do that. I worked +so hard tying up bundles at home for every one in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span> +house that Father suggested I apply for a position as +bundle-wrapper at some department store. And I +would have, just for a joke, if I hadn’t succeeded in +making every one for whom I tied a bundle give me five +cents—and I made a dollar.” Her eyes gleamed +reminiscently. +</p> +<p> +“You have forgotten about the trees!” called out +the Sport. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, we have to name three kinds of trees, three +flowers and three birds.” +</p> +<p> +“Easy!” chimed the girls in unison. +</p> +<p> +“But the hardest—that was for me—” exclaimed +Grace (Nathalie bent forward eagerly, for somehow +she did like Grace), “was to earn or to save fifty cents +and put it in the bank.” There was a general shout at +this, for, as Helen explained in an aside to Nathalie, +Grace was the richest girl in the Pioneer group. She +had a beautiful home, her own automobile, her own +allowance, and yet she was always hard up. +</p> +<p> +“She’s awfully generous, you know, and doesn’t +know how to count her pennies,” she added wisely, +“the way we girls do, because we have to. But she’s +learning.” +</p> +<p> +But Helen’s whispered comments about her friend +were not all heard by Nathalie, who suddenly stiffened, +and with a quick exclamation leaned forward and +stared curiously at a gray figure that was walking past +the house with strained, averted eyes, as if fearful that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +she might see the group of merry girls on the veranda. +</p> +<p> +“Who is that lady all in gray?” she demanded, +abruptly clutching Helen’s arm as her eyes followed +the gliding figure of the strange-appearing woman +whose library card she had found the day of her accident +in the woods. +</p> +<p> +Helen looked up quickly in response to Nathalie’s +question, but before she could answer, Kitty Corwin +cried hastily, “Girls, look! there goes ‘The Mystic’!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span><a name='chIV' id='chIV'></a>CHAPTER IV—NATHALIE IS ASKED TO BECOME A BLUE ROBIN</h2> +<p> +“The Mystic!” echoed Nathalie in mild +amazement, while one or two of the group +turned and gazed curiously at the gray-shrouded +figure hurrying by. +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t ask me to look at her,” asserted the +Sport with a scowl, “after screwing up my courage as +I did to ask her if we could use her terraced lawn for +one of our drills; why, the glance she gave me almost +froze me stiff!” +</p> +<p> +The girls laughed at Edith’s tragic tone, while Lillie +Bell retorted teasingly, “Well, she must be a chill-raiser, +Edith, if she could freeze the marrow in your +spine.” +</p> +<p> +“Girls, you should not speak as you do about Mrs. +Van Vorst,” admonished Helen, “you know Mrs. Morrow +says that she has suffered a great sorrow.” +</p> +<p> +“Pshaw, we all know that,” returned the Sport unfeelingly, +“but that is no reason why she should make +every one else suffer, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Granted,” rejoined Helen, “but she has grown to +look at things through morbid eyes.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +</p> +<p> +“I should think the gray gown she wears would +make any one morbid,” suggested Lillie. “But what +is the use of discussing her? I believe she is just a +crank with a fad,” she added. +</p> +<p> +“Who is she, and why does she go about in that +queer gray gown?” inquired Nathalie, insistently. +</p> +<p> +“She is Mrs. Van Vorst, the richest woman in +town,” explained Grace. “She lives in that big, gray +house surrounded by the stone wall. Haven’t you noticed +it? It’s on Willow Street, up on the hill. You +must have seen it.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, the big house with the beautiful Dutch garden,” +exclaimed Nathalie, “and the queer little house +at one side of it?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” nodded Helen, “but that queer little house +is an ancient landmark—a Dutch homestead—built +on a grant of land given by Governor Stuyvesant to +Janse Van Vorst way back in 1667. The Van Vorsts, +or their descendants, have lived on that place for hundreds +of years. Billy Van Vorst, the last of the line, +married Betty Walton, a rich New York girl. He +died some years ago, and—well, I don’t know the +exact story—” Helen hesitated, “but they say Mrs. +Van Vorst has an awful temper—oh, I hate to tell +it—and then it may not be true.” +</p> +<p> +“But it is true,” asserted Jessie Ford, “for Mother +used to know Billy and Betty, too. She said shortly +after Billy’s death Mrs. Van Vorst became angry with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +her little child—I don’t know whether it is a boy or +girl—and—” +</p> +<p> +“Whatever it is,” broke in Edith, “it is all distorted +and twisted, looks like a monster, for I saw it one day +in the garden, the day I was there. It is always muffled +up so people can’t see it.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, anyway,” went on Jessie, “Mrs. Van Vorst +got into a temper with the child and shut it up in a +dark room, and then went off to a reception or something, +and forgot all about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how could she?” ejaculated Nathalie with a +shudder. +</p> +<p> +“Well, when she came home and remembered it—it +wasn’t in the room—” +</p> +<p> +“And they found it all in a heap on the pavement in +the yard,” again interrupted Edith, anxious to forestall +the climax; “I have heard all about it, they say it was +an awful sight.” +</p> +<p> +“Dead?” cried Nathalie in a shocked tone. +</p> +<p> +“No, not dead,” returned Jessie, “but it might as +well have been. It had become frightened in the dark, +said some one was chasing it, and in trying to escape +climbed out on a shed and fell to the ground. Mrs. +Van Vorst was ill for a long time, almost lost her mind. +Then she gave up society and came down here and +built this big house beside the homestead. She has +lived in it ever since, but keeps to herself; she doesn’t +seem to want to know people.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I don’t wonder she mourns in gray then!” exclaimed +Nathalie. “I feel sorry for her!” +</p> +<p> +“And so do I!” chimed Helen squeezing her new +friend’s hand responsively, “for she will have to suffer +remorse all her life. Mother says she is to be +pitied.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I should have more pity for her if she would +let us have the lawn back of her house for our flag +drill,” remarked Lillie Bell, “or for one of our demonstrations.” +</p> +<p> +“You can be sure I’ll never ask her again,” declared +the Sport, vehemently; “I believe she hates us just because +we are young, and can enjoy life when her child +can’t.” +</p> +<p> +At this moment Grace arose and handed Nathalie a +peculiar-looking envelope of rough brown paper. +“No, it won’t explode,” she giggled, as she saw Nathalie +handling the quaintly-folded envelope rather +gingerly. +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t think it is the butcher’s bill, either,” +laughed Helen, “for it isn’t. It is simply an invitation +to one of our group meetings, or Pioneer Rallies, as we +call them. We always use that kind of paper when +we invite guests, for it was the kind used in pioneer +times.” +</p> +<p> +Reassured by Helen’s explanation, Nathalie opened +the envelope, noting the old-style script printed by hand +in scarlet letters, evidently the work of one of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +Pioneers. Then she slowly read aloud: +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“They knew +they were Pilgrims, and looked not much on those +things, but lifted up their eyes to Heaven, their dearest +country, and quieted their spirits within.” +</p> +<p style='text-align:right; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-right:2em;;'>— <span class='sc'>Bradford.</span></p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<div style='margin-left:2em; margin-right:2em'> +<p>Y<sup>e</sup> presence of y<sup>e</sup> young maide, Mistress Nathalie +Page is enjoined to appear on y<sup>e</sup> 23^<sup>rd</sup> of this month +at y<sup>e</sup> Common House (Seton Hall) on y<sup>e</sup> corner of y<sup>e</sup> cross +roades to Bergen Town, to join with y<sup>e</sup> maides of y<sup>e</sup> colony +of Westport in a seemly diversion and Mayflower Feast.</p> + +<p>Postscript: Kindly come apparelled in y<sup>e</sup> meeting-house +cloathes and behave as a young maide should so do.</p> + +<p>From the Girl Pioneers of America, y<sup>e</sup> Many-greated-grand-daughters +of y<sup>e</sup> Mothers of y<sup>e</sup> Pilgrim Colony, who +came to this new world in y<sup>e</sup> good sloop MAYFLOWER in 1620.</p> +</div> +<p> +The expression of wonderment in Nathalie’s eyes +changed to one of amusement as she laughingly cried, +“My, but you are the real article!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, the scribe did that,” said Helen proudly; “I +think it ought to be put in a glass case.” +</p> +<p> +“Thank you!” promptly returned Jessie; “I accept +your praise, but suggest, as industry is one of the +laws of the Pioneers, that I should receive a special +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +badge of merit, for if you could have seen me poking +into those musty documents at the library to get the +thing right, you would say I deserved it.” +</p> +<p> +“But what does it mean?” demanded Nathalie curiously. +“What have you to do with the Pilgrims?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, it means,” explained Helen, “that we girls, +to freshen up our minds on pioneer history, so that we +may learn more about the women we emulate, name +each of our rallies after some one group of pioneers, or +some special pioneer woman, in memory of their service +to us. Then we all talk about them, each one telling +what she knows.” +</p> +<p> +“Or what she doesn’t know, generally,” broke in +Lillie, dryly. +</p> +<p> +“I guess you are about right, Lillie,” added Grace, +“for we are awfully rusty on pioneer history. It always +seemed so stupid at school, but we have learned +a lot since we started naming our rallies after pioneer +things, and trying to see what we can cram. Why, +girls,” she cried suddenly, as if impelled by inspiration +to tell the latest thing she had learned, “do you know +that there were almost thirty children who came over +with the Pilgrims in the <em>Mayflower</em>?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I for one did not,” remarked Jessie candidly; +“I didn’t know that the Pilgrims had any children; +supposed they were just a lot of blue-nosed men who +wore high ruffs and tall, round hats, and who went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +about with long faces, telling people they would go to +the devil if they dared to smile.” +</p> +<p> +“There, Jess,” broke in Lillie Bell mischievously, +“you needn’t get profane over it.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course they were grim and forbidding-looking,” +supplemented Kitty, “and—” +</p> +<p> +“And sanctimonious,” added some one, “with their +blue laws.” +</p> +<p> +“Girls, you are all wrong,” spoke up Helen, with +a sort of call-you-down air, “it was the Connecticut +elders who made the blue laws. The Pilgrims were +sincere, earnest men. Remember what Mrs. Morrow +said about them?” +</p> +<p> +There was a sudden silence for a moment, and then +a faint voice was heard from the other end of the +veranda. Every one pricked up her ears and craned +her neck to see who was speaking. +</p> +<p> +“Ye Stars! it is the Flower of the Family,” whispered +Edith; “what has come to her?” +</p> +<p> +The sweet, low voice went on slowly, perhaps a trifle +unsteadily, “God sifted a whole nation that he might +send choice grain into the wilderness.” +</p> +<p> +“Hooray for the Flower!” shouted some one, and +then of course they all had to clap, while the editor-in-chief +of the “Pioneer,” who was sitting next to the +speaker, jotted down this little saying with the air of +an expert reporter. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +</p> +<p> +“Now, do you suppose,” went on Helen, “that these +picked men—” +</p> +<p> +“This choice grain,” corrected the Sport softly, who +was trying hard to create a laugh. +</p> +<p> +“Edith, please be serious,” admonished Helen, looking +at that young lady with reproving eyes, but she +was sitting with folded arms and eyes cast down, the +picture of innocent and bland decorum. +</p> +<p> +Helen, seeing she had subdued the Sport for the time +being, continued: “Yes, this choice grain was composed +of not only sincere and courageous men, as we +know, but the most tolerant of any of the first settlers +in this country. But, of course, in serious, solemn +times one is not apt to be funny. They were not really +sanctimonious, they just got that name because they +tried to live up to their convictions.” +</p> +<p> +“But they got it!” retorted the Sport, who was always +hard to convince in an argument. Helen flashed +her eyes at her in rebuke, and then, turning toward +Nathalie, said, “We are not only going to tell what we +have learned about the Pilgrims at the rally, but we are +to end with a Mayflower Feast. We do not expect to +eat the things the colonists did, of course, but the table +is to be decorated with May-flowers—that is with all +the flowers that grow in May—so you see, it will +really be a May-flower Feast.” +</p> +<p> +“The Boy Scouts are going to pick the flowers for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +us!” chimed the Tike, her good-natured face beaming +good-fellowship at Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +“Dr. Homer—he is Mrs. Morrow’s brother—” +supplemented Grace, “is the Scout Master of the Eagle +Patrol, and as he is very anxious to make the boys +chivalrous, he likes to have them help us all they can.” +</p> +<p> +“But we are to have a great big entertainment,” +exclaimed Carol importantly, “very soon, and we’re +to sell tickets so that we can make money for the +Camping Fund.” +</p> +<p> +“And we have such a bright idea for getting up +something novel in the way of entertainments,” spoke +up Helen interestedly. “Each girl is to put on her +thinking-cap and get to work on an idea; it has to be +original, nothing borrowed, or that has been used before, +and then turn it in to our Director in proper shape +to be carried out. All of these novel ideas are to be +kept secret until we have had all of the entertainments, +and then we shall vote for the one we think the best. +The winners will receive merit badges for their efficiency.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that will be great!” cried Nathalie, “but tell +me, where are you going camping?” she questioned +animatedly, for her thoughts had instantly reverted to +a summer or so before when she and a party of school +girls had camped up in the woods of Maine. +</p> +<p> +“We don’t know yet,” was Helen’s practical rejoinder, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +“for we have got to know how much money we +shall have to spend. But come, girls, be serious and +tell Nathalie some of our sports and activities. We +want to show her that we can do things worth while, +you know.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, get Lillie Bell to tell us one of her stories!” +cried the Sport, who was a warm admirer of the story-teller. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I can’t think of any now!” replied Lillie lazily. +And then as a chorus of voices seconded this plea, she +cried, “Really girls, I can’t. I was up half the night +studying for exam. But,” her face brightened, “I will +tell you about the picked chicken if you like. As it +has something to do with our pioneer law, it will come +in all right.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, do!” pleaded her hostess, who had been +wishing that she might hear one of the story-teller’s +thrillers. +</p> +<p> +“It isn’t a blood-curdler this time, Miss Page,” +apologized Lillie, “so I cannot give you an exhibition +of my reputed talent as a fictionizer. It is simply that +Mother had a headache, Father was going to bring +home a swell friend to dine with us, and as it happened, +the butcher sent a feathered fowl, and our little Dutch +maid was ill.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it was maddening,” she sighed in dolorous +reminiscence, “but there was no way out of it, for we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +had to have that chick for dinner. So I set to work; +some people say that when you try to do right everything +rises up against you. So it proved to me, but +I remembered our Pioneer motto, ‘I Can,’ and glued +myself to that job. Verily, I thought that chicken +must be a relative to the goose that laid the golden egg, +for every feather I pulled, a dozen at least came to the +funeral. But I won out, and went to bed with a clear +conscience, and that fowl—inside of me!” +</p> +<p> +“Hooray for the Pioneer laws!” called several +voices hilariously, and then at one and the same time, +in their eagerness to give proof of well-doing, each one +started to relate some personal experience. The effect +of several story-tellers spinning yarns at the same +time was so ludicrously funny that all the stories ended +in merry laughter. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, let’s vary the entertainment,” suggested Grace, +“and sing our Pioneer song for Miss Page.” +</p> +<p> +In another moment the fresh young voices, accompanied +by a swing of heads and a tap of feet, were singing, +to the tune of “Oh, Maryland, My Maryland”: +</p> +<p> + “We laugh, we sing, we jump, we run,<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + We’re always having lots of fun;<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + The wild birds answer to our call,<br /> + These feathered friends in trees so tall;<br /> + We learn to know them one and all.<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span></div> +<p> + <br/> + Refrain.<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + We will be brave, and kind, and true;<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, who was enjoying this musical treat immensely, +and longed to join in, suddenly gave a start. +She had heard a familiar hand strike the keyboard of +the piano, and then start in with the tune the girls were +singing, while a clear, high, soprano voice—one that +the girl had never heard before—took up the air, and +in a moment was leading the girls in their song, and as +though accustomed to do it. +</p> +<p> +She saw one or two of the girls smile at another in +a mysterious way, and began to wonder what it all +meant. As the last verse came to a close, and there +were three, Mrs. Page stepped through the low French +window from the living-room on the veranda, followed +by a figure in white and Dick, who was hobbling along +on a broom turned upside down. +</p> +<p> +There was a silent moment, and then the Girl +Pioneers had jumped to their feet and were saluting +the lady in white, for it was Mrs. Morrow, their Director. +No, they did not touch their shoulders as in +the salute to Helen, their group leader, but the forehead, +in military salute. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow returned the salute, and then, as the +girls broke into their Pioneer yell, came over to Nathalie +without waiting for an introduction. But the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +young hostess had risen to her feet and was standing +with outstretched hand. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, my dear! you must sit down, or you may +strain your foot!” cried Mrs. Morrow anxiously, as +she caught Nathalie’s hand in hers and smiled down at +her with luminous gray eyes, the kind that seem to +radiate hearty good-will and cheer. Her greeting was +so gracious, and there was such an undefinable charm +in the bright face of the young matron, that Nathalie +surrendered immediately. +</p> +<p> +“I did not mean to intrude on your sport, girls,” +cried Mrs. Morrow in a moment, turning toward the +group, still holding Nathalie’s hand, “but I was as +anxious as you all were to meet our new neighbor.” +</p> +<p> +The color deepened in Nathalie’s cheeks as she cried +in her impulsive way, “Oh, but you are not intruding +at all, Mrs. Morrow; I am more than anxious to meet +you, for—” she stopped a moment, and then flashed, +“the girls all say you are lovely!” +</p> +<p> +There was a wild cheer at this, whereupon, the gray-blue +eyes smiled at Nathalie again. Then turning, the +lady nodded to the compliments so boisterously expressed +by the girls. For a few moments it seemed +as if each girl was trying to outdo every other girl as +to who should win in this race for tongue speed, as +they crowded around Nathalie and their Director. +</p> +<p> +Presently Nathalie looked up and laughed, for Dick +did look so funny as he hobbled from one girl to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +another—he had always been a lover of girls—on his +broomstick. As if divining why she laughed, Dick, +who had heard her looked up. “Hello there, Blue +Robin!” he cried teasingly, “what have you got to +say about it?” +</p> +<p> +“Blue Robin?” repeated Mrs. Morrow in puzzled +query, turning towards Nathalie, “why does he call +you Blue Robin? That is the name of this group.” +</p> +<p> +“But I thought the name of this group was Bluebird,” +answered Nathalie in some surprise. +</p> +<p> +“So it is,” returned Mrs. Morrow, “but you know, +bluebird means blue robin, too.” +</p> +<p> +“There, Dick! I was not so far wrong after all!” +cried Nathalie triumphantly, looking at her brother +with convincing eyes. Then she turned and quickly +told how she had found the bluebird’s nest in the old +cedar, how she had called the birdlings blue robins, and +how Dick—who was a terrible tease—had plagued +her about it ever since. +</p> +<p> +“But please inform me, Mrs. Morrow,” now spoke +that young man, “why you say bluebirds are blue +robins?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, you know, the first bird seen by the Pilgrims +when they came to this land was a bluebird—our +earliest songster. As it resembled the robin so +much, they wrote home to their friends and told of +the beautiful blue robins they had seen in the new +land.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nathalie,” cried Helen with joy in her voice, +“do you know the finding of the blue robin’s nest +surely must be an omen for good! Keep the name +your brother has given you, and become a real bluebird, +or blue robin, by joining our group and becoming a +Pioneer!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, Miss Page, do!” came quickly to Nathalie’s +ears; “we should love to have you one of us.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll coach you in the tests!” sang out Helen, who +was ready to dance with pleasure to think that there +was a prospect of her new friend becoming a Pioneer. +</p> +<p> +“And I’ll help!” added Grace. “And so will I,” +“And I!” chimed several girlish voices. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie sat in embarrassed silence, hardly knowing +what to answer to these many cordial invitations +to join, and offers to help her do the tests. “I would +love to be one of you,” she spoke hesitatingly, “but +I am not at all clever at doing things, for I can’t sew, +or cook, or do anything useful at all!” The girl’s +voice was almost plaintive. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, you are just the one we want, then,” was Mrs. +Morrow’s quick reply; “we want girls who don’t know +how, so we can teach and train them in the right way.” +</p> +<p> +There was loud applause at this remark, and then as +the hubbub subsided somewhat, Mrs. Morrow held up +her hand for silence. “Now, girls,” she said, “give +Miss Page time to think. Yes, we should be overjoyed +to have you join the group, Miss Page, for later, in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +the summer, one of our bluebirds is to emigrate South +for the winter, and we should love to have you take +her place. I agree with Helen that the finding of the +bluebird’s nest in the old cedar meant that you were +to become a true bluebird, or Blue Robin, as we shall +have to call you.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie looked at Dick, and then at her mother. +Mrs. Page was smiling at her so reassuringly that Nathalie +understood that she gave her consent, and joyfully +signified her willingness to become a Pioneer. +With a bob of her head at Dick she declared, that she +would become one if only to show her brother that +there was such a thing as a Blue Robin. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow then explained that they had selected +the bluebird as their mascot not only because it was +the bird of pioneer days, but because the word blue +means true, and Girl Pioneers were to be true in word, +and thought, and deed. And then as a bird means +swift, they were to be swift to the truth. +</p> +<p> +“The bluebird is also noted for its cheerfulness,” +she continued. “The Pioneers are to be cheerful. It +is a loyal bird; the Pioneers are to be loyal to one another, +to their pledges and laws, and to every one and +to all things that are right, good, and pure. The bird +is also very gentle, and we want the Pioneers to cultivate +kindliness and gentleness. Flower,” she called +suddenly, “sing us that pretty little bluebird song you +know.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +</p> +<p> +In compliance with this request the Flower sang, in +her sweet soprano, a funny little song about a bluebird +courting his lady love. Each verse ended with the call-note, +“Tru-al-lee,” which the girls caught up as a refrain +and sang with sweet, low tones, the Flower’s bird-like +trill rising high above the others. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span><a name='chV' id='chV'></a>CHAPTER V—THE GRAY STONE HOUSE</h2> +<p> +“Do you know, Helen,” exclaimed Nathalie, +looking at her friend with reminiscent eyes, +“that it is only three weeks since I met +you, but it seems like three months.” +</p> +<p> +“That is because you have been on probation for a +Pioneer,” retorted Helen smilingly, “and are beginning +to take life more seriously.” +</p> +<p> +“Not very seriously, I am afraid,” lamented Nathalie, +“judging from the bungle I made in trying to +learn that square knot.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you will learn,” encouraged Helen, “but I +must be off, for I have some typing to do for to-morrow.” +Yes, Helen’s new friend knew that she was +learning to be a stenographer. When that little fact +had been divulged in the natural course of events, +Nathalie had listened with great interest to Helen’s +declaration of her life purpose—to be independent—not +only for the pleasure that independence would bring +to her, but because she wanted to earn money so that +she could give her mother little comforts and luxuries +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +that Mrs. Dame had been denied because her husband’s +income was limited. +</p> +<p> +Instead of scorning her, as the girl had feared, Nathalie +had wished her great success, apparently appreciating +the unselfish motive that actuated her, while +lamenting that she herself was not as clever. +</p> +<p> +“O dear,” she had impulsively declared, “I want +to earn money, too; oh, if I only had a purpose in life! +I do not want to be a drone.” And then on the impulse +of the moment she had confided to Helen her +many disappointments, and how anxious they all were +about her brother Dick, fearful that he might never +recover the use of his leg. To Helen it had seemed +that since these mutual confidences a closer friendship +had grown up between them, much to that young +lady’s joy. +</p> +<p> +She had just finished hearing Nathalie recite the +Pioneer Pledge and laws, give the names of the Presidential +party, as Nathalie called them, adding the +name of the governor of the State in which she lived, +describe the United States flag, sew a button on—as +it should be done, she had declared with solemn unction—and +then exhibit her skill at tying a square knot. +</p> +<p> +“After you become a Bluebird at the Pilgrim Rally +to-morrow, I shall begin to drill you in the tests necessary +to make you a Second-Class Pioneer,” Helen had +declared when the lesson was over and she began to +gather up her sewing materials. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, will you?” cried Nathalie, “but when can I +become one?” +</p> +<p> +“In a month,” was the reply, “if you pass the tests; +but there, I shall never get my work done if I stand +here and talk,” and Helen started for the steps. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and I am in a hurry to hear what Dr. Morrow +says about Dick’s knee,” returned Nathalie as she followed +her friend to the edge of the veranda. “You +know he was in this morning to examine it; I am so +anxious to hear what he had to say.” +</p> +<p> +“How did your brother injure his knee?” asked +Helen as she paused at the foot of the steps, “I have +often wanted to ask.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, he slipped on the ice just two days after +Father’s death,” rejoined Nathalie, her eyes darkening +sorrowfully. “The New York physician said it was +only sprained ligaments and would be all right soon. +But he has been growing worse—it pains him dreadfully +sometimes—oh, you don’t know how worried we +are—” her voice quavered, “suppose he should be +lame for life!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, don’t get nervous over it,” advised Helen +cheerfully, “but hurry in and see what Dr. Morrow +said. To be sure he is only a one-horse-town doctor, +but it is claimed that he is an expert surgeon,” and then +with a smile and a wave of her hand she hastened toward +the gate. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie watched her friend with brightening eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +as she hurried across the lawn. Somehow the girl’s +companionship had revived her drooping spirits; the +many little chats they had had about the Pioneers and +the tests, coupled with the anticipation of becoming +one, had in a measure brightened her life. To be sure, +they could never take the place of her friends of the +city, but might perhaps dull the longing for the things +of the past and the desires that at times threatened to +overwhelm her. She realized that she was beginning +to take a keener interest in her surroundings, and felt +that it was all owing to the Pioneers. +</p> +<p> +“Nathalie, I am here—in the sitting-room!” called +her mother’s voice faintly a few moments later as she +heard the girl’s step in the hall. An apprehensive pang +seized Nathalie’s heart as she flew to her mother’s side. +</p> +<p> +“What did the doctor say, Mumsie?” she demanded +anxiously. “Will Dick be lame?” +</p> +<p> +“I hope not, Nathalie, but there will have to be an +operation—” her mother’s voice sank to a whisper, +“and oh, it will cost us several hundred dollars.” +Here Mrs. Page broke down, and burying her face on +her daughter’s shoulder wept silently. The girl gently +patted the gray-streaked head as she hugged the slender +form closely, but with intuitive divination she let +her have her cry out, although she was seething with +impatience, for she knew it would prove a relief to the +mother heart. +</p> +<p> +“It is all right, I am just a coward.” Mrs. Page +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +choked a moment, then imprinted a wet kiss on the +rounded cheek so close to her own as she felt the comfort +of her unspoken sympathy. “I am sure Dick +will be all right in time—but I am so worried—I +have had bad news, too. It does seem as if misfortunes +never come singly, as they claim,” she said, +thrusting a crumpled sheet of paper into her daughter’s +hand. +</p> +<p> +The girl’s eyes swept the type-written page, once, +twice, then in a tense tone she demanded, “Oh, Mother, +do you mean that the Portland cement bonds are in +danger—why, I thought—” +</p> +<p> +“They are to stop paying interest while the company +is being reorganized; something has gone wrong. I +was afraid of it, as they say cement is being sold at a +very low figure.” +</p> +<p> +“But perhaps it will only be for a time, you are +crossing your bridges before you get there as Father +used to say,” Nathalie replied with attempted cheerfulness, +“but did you not say that they were first mortgage +bonds?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but child, we have got to live,” exclaimed her +mother irritably; “that money, the interest, is part of +my income, and it is little enough—expenses are so +heavy. And where the money will come for Dick’s +operation I am sure I don’t know—but there, don’t +worry—it will be all right in time, I know.” She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +sank back in her chair and dabbed her reddened eyelids +with her moist handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +“But, Mumsie, tell me, why is it necessary for Dick +to have an operation?” questioned Nathalie insistently +with anxious eyes. +</p> +<p> +“The doctor says there is a bone in his leg infected. +It will have to be removed, and a new bone put in.” +</p> +<p> +“A new bone put in!” ejaculated Nathalie, +“why—” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is something new in surgery,” replied her +mother. “Dr. Morrow says thousands of cripples +have been made well by this new method of treating +cases like Dick’s. He says—” a long sigh—“if Dick +does not have an operation, he will probably be lame, +if he is ever able to walk at all.” The tears began to +glisten in Mrs. Page’s eyes again, as Nathalie, with a +sudden sharp realization what this would mean for +Dick and all of them, turned and rushed from the +room with the dread that if she remained a moment +longer she too would fall to weeping. +</p> +<p> +She hastened up the attic stairs to her den; she +wanted time to think. Oh, suppose there should be +no money for the operation, and Dick should be lame +all the rest of his life, Dick, who had always been so +well and robust, and who for his athletic prowess had +won so many silver cups and medals! She threw herself +into the low rocker, and leaning her head on her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +desk began to cry softly; she did not want Mother to +hear. +</p> +<p> +Oh, why did they have so much trouble? How hard +it was to lose her father, her beautiful home and +friends, to give up college, to have to live in that poky +old town—even the Pioneers could not compensate +for that—and then to have Dick lame because they +had no money! Nathalie wept on in woeful lamentation, +feeling with the untriedness of youth that she was +a great martyr. Did not God’s world owe her happiness? +Was it not sinning against her in denying her +right to its joys? +</p> +<p> +But even sorrow has its limit, and gradually her sobs +died away to a shiver, as her head dropped wearily on +the back of her chair. Oh, if she were not so helpless, +if she could only earn money like Helen! But what +could she do? She couldn’t sew, she had no musical +ability—like Lucille! A Bob White whistle, followed +by a “Tru-al-lee!” beneath her window reminded her +that she had promised to take a walk with Grace Tyson. +</p> +<p> +Yes, Nathalie knew that “Tru-al-lee!” for that +young lady was the only Pioneer who could so successfully +imitate that little bird’s sweet trill. She +jumped up quickly, and then with the buoyancy of +youth cast all her dismal forebodings skyward and hurried +down to the lower floor. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll be down in a moment,” she called out to Grace, +who had just entered the hall and was chatting with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +Dick, who had been reading on the couch. She flew +into the bath-room, scrubbed her face vigorously a moment, +and then flying into her room grabbed her hat +from its peg in the closet, and then hastened down the +stairs humming blithely a new ragtime song as she +went. +</p> +<p> +“I want to say good-by to Mother,” she exclaimed as +she nodded to Grace and hurried into the sitting-room. +But when she saw the big pile of mending on the table +in front of Mrs. Page, a sudden guilty pang assailed +her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mumsie,” she cried, “don’t you do that mending. +I will do it when I come back. I meant to do it +yesterday,” she excused herself lamely, “but I forgot +all about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind, daughter, perhaps it will keep me +from worrying,” was the reply; “as ’tis said, there is +nothing like work to keep up one’s spirits.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mumsie,” the girl cried impulsively, rubbing +her hands caressingly over her mother’s cheek, “don’t +let’s worry any more. We’re just silly to cry over +what may not happen,” and then she added hopefully, +“I’m sure things will come out all right.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Page’s eyes filled as she bent forward and +kissed her would-be-comforter. “Yes, we are silly, no +doubt,” she smiled through her tears, “to waste time +and strength worrying over what, after all, may not +happen.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +</p> +<p> +“But, Mother,” suddenly questioned the girl with +uneasy eyes, “do—do you think I ought to become +a Pioneer?” +</p> +<p> +“Why not, Nathalie?” inquired Mrs. Page in surprise. +“Perhaps it will teach you some of the many +things you should know, for if we are to be poor, you +may have to earn your own living. Resourcefulness, +courage, those will be the things—” her mother’s +voice ceased abruptly. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie remained silent; there was a note in her +mother’s voice that seemed like reproof. A sudden depression +seized her again as it came to her with renewed +force how helpless she was, what things Helen +did to help her mother, and the many useful things the +Pioneer girls—plain girls, too, who had never had +the advantages that she had had—could do. +</p> +<p> +But mentally pushing these reproachful thoughts +aside with the rebellious feeling that she had never been +brought up to do these things, that she had been born +a lady, she stooped and kissed her mother hastily and +hurriedly joined Grace on the veranda. +</p> +<p> +“Where shall we walk?” she asked that young girl, +as they passed down the street. She glanced up at the +blue sky, where snowy clouds drifted like rudderless +ships at sea. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I forgot to tell you, but Mrs. Morrow has +asked me to deliver a note to ‘The Mystic.’” +</p> +<p> +“‘The Mystic?’” echoed Nathalie in doubting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +amazement, “why I thought she had never had anything +to do—” +</p> +<p> +“To do with the people of the town,” finished Grace. +“Well, she doesn’t as a rule, but she is one of Dr. Morrow’s +patients and had the grace to return Mrs. Morrow’s +call. I hate to go, as I know she dislikes young +people, but of course I could not say no to Mrs. Morrow, +and then, too, I rather think she is writing to ask +her if we could have her lawn for one of our demonstrations. +We had a lovely idea for a May-Day celebration, +but we had to give it up, as we had no place to +hold it.” +</p> +<p> +“What were you going to have?” inquired Nathalie, +as the two girls turned up the hill leading to +the big gray house enclosed in its barrier of gray wall. +</p> +<p> +“We were going to get some ox carts and decorate +them with Mayflowers, and parade to the grounds. +There we were to choose a queen and dance around +the May-pole in welcome to the goddess of spring. +Fred was to be Robin Hood—O dear,” she suddenly +ejaculated with a dismayed face, “I do believe I left +the note at home. What a ninny I am! Why, I pinned +it to the cushion so I wouldn’t forget it and then walked +straight off and left it.” +</p> +<p> +The girls stared blankly at one another a moment +and then Grace cried, “Come, we might as well go back +for it; do you mind? It is only a few blocks out of +our way.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +</p> +<p> +On receiving Nathalie’s assent she added contentedly, +“I’ll get Dorcas to make us some lemonade to cool us +off, and—why, I can show you my Pioneer room!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I should just love to see it!” enthused Nathalie; +“Helen told me about it. She said she was +going to suggest that the groups of the Pioneer band +have a Pioneer room.” +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it old-timey?” she mused a half hour later, +as Grace ushered her into a low-ceiled room whose +walls were flauntingly gay with a paper of many-colored +tulips, which, Grace proudly admitted, was decidedly +Dutch and for that reason had been selected. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s keen eyes were lured to the photographs, +water-colors, etchings, and cuts from magazines, all +representative of pioneer days, that peeped from between +the gorgeous rows of tulips. An etching of +New Amsterdam dated 1650, with rows of one story +houses, with their gable ends notched like steps, and +weather vanes surmounted with grotesque designs of +horses, lions, and geese, proved a great contrast in its +quaint simplicity to the New York of to-day. +</p> +<p> +Her eyes swept from this pictured history to the +four-poster with its dimity valance, and then on to +the oval dressing table, resplendent with silver candle-sticks, +snuffers, and a curious little Dutch lamp with a +funny mite of a tinder-box by its side. +</p> +<p> +“But that clock is a dear!” she murmured as her +gaze lingered admiringly upon a tall grandfather’s clock +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +in the corner, which returned her glance with such +old-time solemnity on its ivory-tinted face that Nathalie’s +brain became a movie screen, one scene after +another presenting themselves to her vivid imagination. +</p> +<p> +“Father gave that clock to me last birthday,” informed +Grace with pride; “it belonged to the Very +Reverend Henricus Van Twiller, one of my forebears. +See, there’s his picture over the mantel,” pointing to a +seamed and dingy-looking canvass of said forebear, +who looked down at them with stolid complacency. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is very old,” continued Grace, “some unimaginative +relative of Papa was going to chop it up +with Georgie’s little hatchet, but Father rescued it just +in time. But you must look at the spinning-wheel. +Grandmother gave it to me for being a thief.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” she rattled on, “I stole a satin bow from her +old wedding gown for a souvenir, and when she discovered +what I had done, the old dear not only forgave +me, but added this spinning-wheel to my collection of +things ancient. See, here is the bow on the distaff. +But come, let’s go down and have the lemonade, I’m +dying for a cooling drink.” +</p> +<p> +As the two girls sat sipping the beverage, Grace suddenly +sprang up crying, “Oh, there’s Fred! I want +you to meet him!” She began to wave and call frantically +in the direction of the lawn, where a tall, well-formed +youth was striding, nonchalantly swinging his +tennis-racket. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I say, kid, what do you want? I’m in a +hurry!” came in response a moment later, as the youth +stopped and eyed his sister impatiently, vigorously +mopping his face, for the day was warm. +</p> +<p> +But as he caught sight of Nathalie, his excuses suddenly +ceased, and with a few strides he reached the +veranda and was eyeing the new girl’s health-flushed +face and sparkling brown eyes with much favor. +After a hearty shake of the hand in answer to his sister’s +introduction, he dropped into a chair by Nathalie’s +side, and soon they were all chatting and laughing +merrily as Fred told of some Scout adventure that had +happened on their last hike. +</p> +<p> +“But you had an adventure, too, did you not?” he +asked suddenly, looking at the young girl by his side +with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “the day you were +rescued by the Pioneers?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, did you hear about that?” Nathalie cried, her +face taking on a deeper tinge of pink. She had always +felt the least mite ashamed of that mishap. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and how about the blue robins?” he continued +in a quizzing tone. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Grace,” exclaimed Nathalie, “you have been +telling tales!” and then with a laugh, she told of finding +the bluebird’s nest, excusing her ignorance by the +plea that she was a city-bred girl. +</p> +<p> +The conversation soon drifted to Boy Scouts, Fred +being a Patrol Leader, and greatly interested in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +organization. Finding that Nathalie had had some +difficulty in learning knot-tying, he kindly volunteered +to give her a lesson in that intricate art. His pupil +proved an apt scholar, as it was not long before she +had mastered the weaver’s, the overhand, the reef, and +had gained a fair insight into several other knots. Before +the lesson had ended Fred had asked if he might +not come up some evening with Grace, and give her another +lesson and meet her brother Dick. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s face dimpled; she hastened to assure him +that she would be pleased to welcome them at the house, +and that she knew her brother would be more than +delighted to know a Westport lad. And then she told +him all about her brother’s misfortune, and how depressed +he grew at times without his chums to drop +in and cheer him. +</p> +<p> +The clock had just struck four when the girls, escorted +by Fred, who claimed he was going their way, +neared the high stone wall overtopped with gray turrets +and nodding trees that looked as if they yearned +to leap beyond their barrier. +</p> +<p> +“Wasn’t it a queer idea to build a beautiful house +like this and then fence it in like some old monastery?” +questioned Grace. “See, here’s a bell in the stone +gate, the way they used to have it in olden times.” +</p> +<p> +“Ugh! I hate to go in—the place gives me the +creeps!” she shivered nervously. “Oh, Fred, do come +in with us, we shall not be long.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +</p> +<p> +Fred took out his watch, and finding that he was +not hurried for time yielded to his sister’s entreaties +and rang the bell. Presently the door was opened by +a stern-looking man in overalls, evidently a gardener. +</p> +<p> +He frowned unpleasantly when the girls asked to see +Mrs. Van Vorst, but when Grace produced her note +and said she had been sent by Dr. Morrow’s wife, he +reluctantly held the gate open for them to enter. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie gazed eagerly down the garden path, with +its old-time hedge and tall pines that swayed gently to +the rhythm of the May breezes, leading to the handsome +modern structure at the end. It was colonial +in design, with low French windows and overhanging +Juliet balconies here and there. A long veranda ran +across the front, with high white pillars, and a porte-cochère. +</p> +<p> +“This is the old Dutch shack,” remarked Fred irreverently +a moment or so later, as they stood in front +of the weather-beaten landmark that clung like some +ugly parasite to the stately mansion which towered +above it. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s eyes were awe-struck as her glance traveled +over the sloping roof with its red chimneys, where +quaint dormer windows stood forth like thrust out +heads from its gray shingles. The long, low porch, +only a foot from the ground, was almost lost to view +behind the vines of honeysuckle and rambling roses +screening the trellis. Bushes of hollyhocks, white +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +peonies and many old-time posies grew in a riotous +hedge around it. +</p> +<p> +Fred showed her the hatchet-scarred door-lintel, a +memento of savage ferocity, and told of the little Dutch +maiden who, from a small window above the door, +fired on a group of redskins as they hammered against +it, killing two. In the rear of the homestead he pointed +out a grass-grown mound, where it was claimed an outhouse +once stood, leading to an underground passageway, +where the settlers at times took refuge when hearing +the fiendish war-whoop. +</p> +<p> +As the girls nervously ascended the low steps leading +to the broad-floored veranda of the gray house, Fred +turned back towards the gate, promising to wait outside +for them. +</p> +<p> +As the great door swung open in answer to their +ring, and the butler’s impassive face stared stonily at +them, the girls were tempted to turn tail and follow +Fred as he went whistling down the path. But Grace +conquered the inclination, and with assumed boldness +asked for Mrs. Van Vorst. +</p> +<p> +For an instant Nathalie thought the man was going +to shut the door in their faces, but when Grace held out +the note for confirmation of her words his impassivity +relaxed somewhat, and with stiff formality he asked +them to walk in. With hushed breath they gazed curiously +about the hall, while a stag’s head above a +quaintly-carved table eyed them glassily. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +</p> +<p> +The rusty swords, the flint-locks, and many other +curios that decorated the casement, beneath faded canvasses +of ancient dames and sires, possessed a weird +charm for the girl. She was particularly beguiled by +the wide oaken staircase with its daintily carved balustrade +that rose spiral-like to the floor above, and to her +imaginative ear there came the swish of a brocade gown +as some haughty fair one, kin to the canvassed beauties +on the tapestried walls, came with tap of dainty heel +down the broad stairway. +</p> +<p> +But no romantic thing occurred as the butler, still +retaining his sphinx-like mask, ushered them into a +little reception room opening from the hall fitted up +to simulate a Chinese pagoda. The girls seated themselves +on two teakwood chairs and stared silently at the +many curios that gleamed from cabinet and screen, each +betraying some eccentric custom of the land of the yellow +peril. +</p> +<p> +“O dear, I feel as if I were a beggar!” observed +Grace with an apprehensive shiver. “Ugh, I should +hate to have that grim-looking man come back and tell +me my company wasn’t wanted.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie burst into a giggle, which was quickly suppressed +in sympathetic recognition of her companion’s +mood. Her eye was caught by a huge mandarin who +grinned at her with a hideous leer, and she shivered, +half wondering if some of the many evil spirits believed +to inhabit China were not hidden behind his wrinkled +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +brown skin, and were looking at her through his bead-like +eyes, trying to hypnotize her with his sinister glare. +Surely those glittering, shiny specks of eyes did move—oh, +what was that? She jumped to her feet, crouching +all of a heap in abject fear as she stared with +horror-stricken eyes at the mandarin, as if that weird, +shrill scream that had suddenly broken the grim silence +had come from his mummy-like lips. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, what is it?” whispered Grace in a hoarse whisper, +as she stared in paralyzed appeal at Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +Before Nathalie could answer another cry, more +piercing and, if could be, more blood-curdling than the +first, came echoing down the hall, followed by a demoniacal +laugh which assured Nathalie that the terror +was something more human than an old Chinese idol. +Grace, with a frantic scream of terror that almost +equaled in its intensity the one that they had heard +sprang into the hall and rushed frenziedly toward the +door! +</p> +<p> +Nathalie stood a moment in indecision, utterly at a +loss to determine whence came the horrible shrieks, +but in another instant, as another one rent the air with +the same frenzied note of merriment, she hesitated no +longer. As fast as her fear-tied feet would allow her, +she flew into the hall, through the door that Grace had +flung wide open, and with terror-winged feet and +thumping heart rushed pell-mell down the wide steps +and along the path after Grace! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span><a name='chVI' id='chVI'></a>CHAPTER VI—WORKING INTO HARNESS</h2> +<p> +A half-hour later the two girls stood on Mrs. +Morrow’s veranda, and with Fred’s mocking +laughter still ringing in their ears told of their +hasty exit from the gray house. With shame-mantled +face and downcast eyes Grace handed Mrs. Morrow +her note. +</p> +<p> +In answer to that lady’s surprised inquiries the story +was told at length, a few extra flourishes unconsciously +added to plead for the unexpected finale to their errand. +But Mrs. Morrow was most kind, not at all like +Fred, and did not laugh at them for being “scare-babies” +as he had expressed it. She voiced her sympathy +most generously, saying she did not wonder they +were frightened, as she was sure at their age she would +have done the same. +</p> +<p> +“I cannot imagine what it could have been,” she +pondered, in much perplexity. “I will ask the doctor. +If he does not know he will probably hear about it, if +it was really anything serious.” +</p> +<p> +She smiled in a way that made Nathalie, whose intuitions +were keen, exclaim hastily, “Oh, indeed, Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +Morrow, we did not imagine it at all. I am sure if +you could have heard that terrible shriek—and that +laugh! Oh, I can hear it still!” Her brown eyes +emphasized her words as they darkened with the haunting +terror that caused her to rush pell-mell after Grace. +</p> +<p> +“But I do hope,” remarked Mrs. Morrow, “that +Mrs. Van Vorst will never know that the young girls +who took such sudden flight from her house were +Pioneers, as Pioneers are supposed to be very courageous.” +There was a twinkle in her eyes as she spoke +that partly atoned for the implication as to the girls’ +lack of courage. +</p> +<p> +They made no reply for a moment, and then Grace, +as if to atone for her delinquency, exclaimed contritely, +“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Morrow, I was frightened—but +if you want me to—” her voice faltered, +“I will take it to her again.” +</p> +<p> +“No, indeed,” quickly rejoined that lady, “I could +not be so cruel as to send you there again, for no matter +if the shriek was nothing, you were really frightened. +I did not mean to rebuke you; I only wanted to seize +this opportunity to show you what an important thing +courage is—and how we should cultivate it, even in +small things. As for the note, I will get the doctor to +take it or send it by post. I will have to confess, however, +that I am disappointed, for I was so anxious to +have Mrs. Van Vorst see what well-behaved and pleasing +young girls belonged to the organization.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +</p> +<p> +“And you sent me!” wailed Grace. “Oh, thank +you, Mrs. Morrow, but what an arrant coward I have +proved—and Nathalie of course would not have run +if I had not!” The tears welled up piteously in her +blue eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, Grace,” interposed Nathalie loyally, “I +was just on the verge of running away myself!” And +then she told them about the mandarin with the grinning +mouth, and sinister, bead-like eyes, that she was +sure had blinked at her. This caused a laugh and +cleared the atmosphere of the unpleasantness that had +been created by the morning’s adventure. +</p> +<p> +The Saturday of the Pilgrim Rally—the day that +was to make Nathalie a Pioneer—arrived. At an +early hour of the morning the Pioneers of the three +bird groups—each one with a package—began to +file into Seton Hall, the little stone building used by +the town for important meetings and often for social +functions. Out of deference to Nathalie the girls +had decided to bring their Pilgrim costumes with them—hence +the mysterious packages—and not don them +until she had been admitted to the organization. +</p> +<p> +With interested eyes Nathalie heard the Pioneers +recite their pledge, give the sign, the salute,—the three +movements of the closed hand, signifying a brave heart, +an honest mind, and a resourceful hand,—and give the +rousing Girl Pioneer cheer. She felt a trifle shaky, +she confided to Helen who was seated next to her, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span> +dreading the ordeal of being made prominent as most +girls do, but she regained her nerve somewhat as the +Director arose and with a smiling nod of welcome began +to call the names. +</p> +<p> +Certainly it was a pretty fancy to have each member +respond to her name by giving the bird call of her +group. The quick clear note of Bob White, the +“Chip! chip!” of the meadow sparrow, and the oriole’s +greeting were all inspiring, but it was the melodious +“Tru-al-lee!” of the bluebird group that held her with +its sweet, low trill. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie heard her name called when it came time +to perform the initiative ceremony of making her a +Pioneer, her head began to whirl, but setting her teeth +determinedly, with squared shoulders and head erect, +she walked down the aisle, faced the Director, and in +a clear voice repeated her pledge. In answer to the +question, would she remember that the honor of a +world-wide organization had been placed in her hands, +and that henceforth whatever she said or did was not +done simply as Nathalie Page, but as a Girl Pioneer, +she answered gravely, “I will!” +</p> +<p> +The second question was now asked, if she would +try to live in such a way that through and by her example +the words Girl Pioneer should come to mean all +that was honest, highest, best, and most efficient in the +girlhood of her country, she again replied with the +solemn, “I will.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span> +</p> +<p> +The Director now stepped to her side, and taking her +by the hand said, “Nathalie Page, in the name of the +Girl Pioneers of America, and by the authority vested +in me as a Director, I receive you into our organization. +You are now a Girl Pioneer of America. May you be +a worthy successor of those women, brave, honest, resourceful, +from whom our name is taken, and who in +the early days of the country, standing side by side with +the men, faced hardships, privations, and dangers, and +helped to make possible the United States of +America!” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow paused a moment, and then with one +of her ready smiles took Nathalie’s hand in hers and +gave her a cordial welcome. Then turning toward +the Pioneers she said, “Let us welcome our new +member.” +</p> +<p> +The girls sprang quickly but noiselessly on their +feet, crying: +</p> +<p> + “Whom have we here?<br /> + A new Pioneer!<br /> + Come give a cheer<br /> + Girl Pi-o-neer<br /> + Nathalie Page!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +The new Pioneer unconsciously heaved a deep sigh +when the ceremony was over and she was allowed to +return to her seat. She was tempted to smile at her +palpitating heart when going through such a simple +ceremony as the initiation to an organization of girls; +and yet she was vaguely conscious that it was a momentous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +episode in her life, and she firmly resolved that +her vow should be a binding one, and that she would +try her best to become a worth-while Pioneer and a +Blue Robin. +</p> +<p> +The seriousness of her act became even more apparent +as she listened with keen interest to Mrs. Morrow’s +little talk, which was, in memory of the day’s +celebration, about the Pilgrims. It was the desire to +do right in the face of all difficulties which animated +the Founders of this great nation in their struggle +for Freedom and Right, and which led their wives, +daughters, and sisters to forego the necessities of life, +to cross an unknown sea and to face the perils of the +wilderness and to aid them in their noble purpose. +</p> +<p> +It was this sacrifice of the things that made life endurable, +and their strict adherence to duty that gave +rise to the sterling qualities of unflinching determination, +hardy courage, stern endurance, unrepining cheerfulness, +untiring loyalty, patient industry, and quick +resourcefulness that has gained the name of the Pioneer +spirit, and made these early women founders of +our nation models of all that is pure and best in +womanhood. +</p> +<p> +Their Director then went on and told of the handicrafts +of the Pilgrims, such as baking, brewing, sewing, +knitting, quilting, spinning, planting the foodstuffs, +carding wool, and the many industries that were +necessary to keep life in those pioneer days. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +</p> +<p> +As the new Pioneer heard the gentle, persuasive +voice, she began to see life in a new aspect, and to understand +something of what it meant to emulate these +noble women. “In your hikes, before your cheer +fires, in your camps, in your home and school life, as +well as in the tests and your outdoor and indoor activities, +and in your sports and games, keep these +women as your cheer star,” said Mrs. Morrow earnestly, +“so that you, too, will be actuated by the qualities +that ennobled them. And when the call comes, be +kindly, helpful, resourceful, pure, and upright in the +midst of all temptation and danger, and you will not +only have the name of Pioneer, but will be filled with +the real pioneer spirit.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow stood silent a moment and then repeated +slowly: +</p> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>“Life is more than the breath and the quick round of blood,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>It is a great spirit and a busy heart.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>In feelings, not figures on a dial.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>We should count time as heart throbs. He most lives</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.”</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'>—<span class='sc'>Bailey.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<p> +The girls now seated themselves in a circle, and as +Jessie read the news from the monthly “Pioneer,” +which reported a flower hike for the Saturday two +weeks hence, they took out their materials and set to +work. Some wove gay-colored yarn on small frames, +others braided raffia baskets, or made squares of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +plaited slips of paper, while Mrs. Morrow told them +something about the art of weaving. +</p> +<p> +After some time spent in learning this old-time craft, +the Director asked the girls how they could best apply +this industry to a very common fundamental of the +home. There was a slight pause, and then some one +called out “To the carpet!” Another girl ventured to +say “Our clothes.” Mrs. Morrow smiled as she said +they were all right in a sense, but the particular craft +she meant at that time was what Helen had timidly +suggested, and that was, darning stockings! +</p> +<p> +There was a ripple of laughter at this truism and +then, to Nathalie’s surprise, there was a stocking drill, +every one hauling forth a stocking from her basket +and setting to work to practice this homely art. It +was indeed a trial by needle to Nathalie, and she suffered +some embarrassment when, after borrowing a +stocking from her neighbor, and trying her very best +to do it well, it was returned to her from the Director +with the remark that she needed training in the science. +</p> +<p> +Later, when Mrs. Morrow came to her side and +showed how neatly her stocking hole appeared after +weaving her thread back and forth, and made Nathalie +practice doing the same, the girl suddenly realized +what a braggart she had been. “Oh, I told Mother I +was the champion mender,” she thought remorsefully. +“What a bungle I must have been making of those +stockings!” With the avowed purpose that she was going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +to make darning her life-work for the next three +weeks, she laid her work aside and hurried with the +girls into the adjoining dressing-room to get ready for +the real Pilgrimy time, when they were to represent +the women of Plymouth town. +</p> +<p> +“Do you always have an all-day meeting?” she +asked Grace, who was pinning a blue bird on Nathalie’s +gown, for at Helen’s suggestion she was to appear at +this, her first Rally, as a Blue Robin, in memory of the +first songster that welcomed the Pilgrims. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, indeed,” answered Grace, “but we departed +from our usual plan, which is to meet in the afternoon +only, unless we have a hike or demonstration, as +we wanted to make our luncheon the Mayflower Feast. +But, oh, Nathalie,” she ended enthusiastically, “you +are a veritable blue bird! Look, girls, isn’t she the +dearest? That bluebird blue makes her cheeks like +pink roses!” +</p> +<p> +At this sudden thrust into notoriety the girl’s color +grew more vivid as she turned for the inspection of the +girls. They grew very enthusiastic over her bluebird +costume with its bluish-gray slip with scalloped edges, +and bluebird cap edged with tiny blue wings, where a +blue bird, standing up in the front, poised with outspread +wings “ready to fly,” as one of the girls asserted. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it’s only blue paper muslin,” explained the +“flier,” as her mates had called her, when they examined +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +the Blue Robin gown. “Helen helped me +make it, and what a time we had making that birdie +stick—hands off,” she finished laughingly, as some +too ardent admirer pressed her close, “or I shall not +fly away but fall to pieces.” +</p> +<p> +By this time, however, her admirers had found a +new love in the Tike, who came dancing before them +all in white. She was literally a bower of trailing +arbutus, as sprays of that spring flower were fastened +all over her gown. +</p> +<p> +“I am the Pilgrim flower,” she piped pertly, “some +call me the Mayflower blossom.” And then catching +up her skirts, with a low curtsey she repeated softly: +</p> +<p> + “Oh I’m the flower that never dies,<br /> + ’Neath leaves so brown in bed so low.<br /> + The arbutus, who in glad surprise<br /> + Bloomed ‘Welcome’ from fields of snow<br /> + To our Pilgrim sires of long ago.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, here’s Lillie Bell!” called some one. “Isn’t +she a duck of a dear!” Simultaneously the girls forsook +the Tike and flocked around Lillie, who, gowned +in pure white, with kerchief and lace cap, represented +Susannah White, the first bride of the colony. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and I want you to note, girls,” she asserted +impressively, with a nonchalant nod to the welcome +accorded her, “that I am not only the first bride, but +the first mother of the colony, for my little Peregrine +was born when the <em>Mayflower</em> rode at anchor in Cape +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +Cod Bay, and Mrs. Morrow claims this is even a greater +honor than to be the first bride. But, girls—” she +ended abruptly, dropping her matronly pose, “have +you seen Edith—she was to be Helen Billington—I +never knew her to be so late before?” +</p> +<p> +“There! that accounts for the aching void in my +heart, I know I missed some one,” cried Jessie half +mockingly. “O dear, what will become of my Pioneer +article if the Sport does not appear?” The girls +all laughed in appreciation of Jessie’s serio-comic declaration, +for it was generally conceded that Edith was +the most active spirit of the band, as her sporting +proclivities, her general good-nature, and her dashing +escapades always furnished plenty of “copy” when +any of their various hikes or demonstrations were in +progress. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, don’t fret; a bad penny always turns up!” +chimed in Kitty, who did not particularly admire the +Sport. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll bet you a cookie that she has been arrested for +appearing in disorderly apparel on the street,” observed +Grace roguishly; “for she told me she was going to +dress at home.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls, aren’t you ready?” at this instant asked +Louise Gaynor, suddenly appearing in the doorway +leading to the room where Mrs. Morrow, as Mistress +Carver, the Governor’s lady, was waiting to receive +them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +</p> +<p> +“Her Sweet Graciousness, Mistress Carver, waits +for you without in the Common House.” +</p> +<p> + “Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of Priscilla,<br /> + Priscilla, the Mayflower of Plymouth!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Thus hummed Lillie as she walked around this winsome +representation of that Puritan maiden, surveying +her critically, but with approving eye. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you’re just too sweet for anything!” warbled +another bluebird, “you’re—” +</p> +<p> +“You’re too sweet to have to do your own proposing, +methinks,” broke in Jessie, touching one of the +long golden braids that fell from beneath the demure +little cap of this first edition of women’s rights. +</p> +<p> +But at sweet Priscilla’s gentle reminder that the first +lady of the land should not be kept waiting, the merry +girls ceased their chatter, did their best to assume the +decorous manners of the Puritan women, filed into line, +and were soon in the adjoining room. +</p> +<p> +Here they were greeted by Dame Brewster, the +Elder’s wife, no other than Helen, who, in ruffled cap +and quaintly flowered gown, excelled even her own +aspirations to appear like that motherly dame, as in +speech of quaint wording she made each Mayflower +damsel known to Mistress Carver. +</p> +<p> +After the greetings had been voiced, the first surprise +came, and that was when the Tike came bounding +into the midst of the gentle dames and informed them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +that a cheer fire was blazing on the grass-plot in the +rear of the Hall. The Pioneers in profound wonder—as +they had not expected to have a cheer fire—followed +Mistress Carver to the garden, where a circle +was formed around this magic inspirer of cheer, whose +burning fagots snapped and crackled noisily, as if to +do its share in the old-time celebration. It was in +memory, Grace declared, of the many fires that had +cheered the settlers in the cold and desolation of the +new world. +</p> +<p> +Murmurs of wonder and queries about this mysterious +surprise were silenced, as some one started a general +clapping, a recognition often accorded the Pioneers’ +cheer star. Then, as they gathered around the +flaming light, some one suggested that perhaps the +Governor’s lady could tell as to who was the magic fire-maker. +</p> +<p> +The lady in question, although disclaiming that she +knew who lighted the magic inspirer, did finally admit +that she could guess who had done it, but as that was +a privilege that every one had, she had nothing to tell. +However, the mystery remained unsolved, although +some bright one ventured to suggest that it might have +been the Sport, who was still missing, as she delighted +to do the unexpected. +</p> +<p> +Immediately the missing Pioneer began to be eulogized +for her clever and mysterious absence, as these +representatives of hundreds of years ago circled about +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +their emblem of cheer and romance. To usher in +the first ceremony, or, as the girls sometimes called +it “the christening of the blazer,” some one called for +the story-teller to give one of her thrillers. This cry +was forthwith taken up by the little company, and became +so imperative that Lillie at last complied with +the request, and in a few moments was telling, in her +usual impressive way, the story of those pioneers, the +Pilgrim men and women, who fought the first battle +for liberty and union on the shores of this land. +</p> +<p> +When Lillie’s story came to an end, she received her +usual applause, for every one had listened with the +closest attention to the account of the many pilgrimages +of these simple folk from the northeastern countries +of England. In trying to serve God as they deemed +right they had separated themselves from the English +church and had begun to hold little meetings in the +village of Scrooby. Hounded by the authorities they +finally sailed to the low countries, which at that time +were considered a place of refuge for the oppressed +of all nations. They lived one year in Amsterdam, +meeting for worship near a convent, whose sweet +chimes called them to a low-ceiled room, where they +sung their songs of praise and read God’s word. +</p> +<p> +But their wanderings were not over, and a year +later they sailed on one of the great waterways of +this Dutch land to Leyden. Here they remained +twelve years in twenty-three humble little homes, built +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +on a plot of ground known as the <em>Koltsteeg</em>, and called +Bell Alley, just across the way from the great dome of +St. Peter’s church. +</p> +<p> +Here in this land of foreign tongue their children +grew up, learned their trades and, alas, many of the +ways of these people, especially their methods of keeping +the Sabbath, which were contrary to the beliefs of +these God-loving people. It was for this reason as +well as for others, that they started forth on their wanderings +again, and migrated to the new land across +the sea, sailing in the <em>Mayflower</em> on the twenty-second +of July, 1620. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie was somewhat disappointed in the beginning, +that she was not to hear one of Lillie’s twentieth-century +thrillers, but the story of the Pilgrims was so +interesting that she felt amply repaid for her disappointment. +Although familiar with their story in +this land, she had never heard much about the lives of +these founders before they came to America. +</p> +<p> +The tale of these ancient folk was rendered even +more interesting by various interruptions at intervals, +as when Dame Brewster read, in solemn tone, the Constitution +formed by these people in the cabin of the +<em>Mayflower</em>, said to have been written on an old chest, +and known as The Compact, the first stone in the +American Commonwealth. +</p> +<p> +The Governor’s lady enlivened the tedious voyage +over by telling of several little incidents that had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +occurred; one was when the <em>Mayflower</em> during a severe +storm was saved from going to the bottom by some +one wedging a <em>kracht</em>, or jackscrew, in a leak that had +suddenly sprung amidships. +</p> +<p> +Little Humility Cooper, one of the children of the +<em>Mayflower</em> voyagers, an Oriole Pioneer, recited Mrs. +Heman’s “Landing of the Pilgrims,” while sprightly +Mary Chilton told of her race with John Alden to be +the first one of the little company to step on Plymouth +Rock. She added to the interest of this recital by +giving a short account of this historical granite from +the day it served as a foundation stone of her victory +until the present time. +</p> +<p> +A Bob White told about the first American washday, +and the fun the children had gathering sweet juniper +boughs to build the fires, over which hung the +tripod from which was suspended the kettles of that +historic occasion. +</p> +<p> +Louise Gaynor, as Priscilla, recited parts of Longfellow’s +poem, “The Courtship of Myles Standish,” +with its picturesque account of the most romantic happening +of the little town, while as Mistress Fuller, +Barbara described Fort Hill and told about Captain +Standish and his sixteen valiant men-at-arms who explored +the hills and woods of the wilderness. +</p> +<p> +Kitty Corwin, as another Pilgrim dame, told of the +erection of the seven little houses with their thatched +roofs, built in a row on First, or Leyden Street, giving +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +a rather exciting account of the many serious +accidents that happened to the Common House where +the stores and ammunition of the community were +stored. And so, in picturesque detail, each feature of +the story was brought forth to form in the minds of +these twentieth century Pioneers a picture that would +last through the years that were to follow, and help +them gain an insight into the characters they were +representing. +</p> +<p> +Elizabeth Winslow, the first wife of the first American +statesman, one of the first to pass away in the fatal +sickness of that lonely winter; Mrs. Hopkins, who won +fame as the mother of the boy Oceanus, born on the +<em>Mayflower</em>; Bridget Fuller, the wife of the genial Dr. +Fuller, and others, were all impersonated by some +one of the Pioneers. +</p> +<p> +Even the ghosts, as Grace dubbed them, were heard +from: Myles Standish’s first wife, known as the beautiful +English Rose, who died soon after reaching the +new land, and Dorothy Bradford, the young wife of +William Bradford, who came to her death by falling +overboard while her husband was exploring the shores +with Captain Standish and his men. +</p> +<p> +By the time the story with its variations had been +told, the girls, tired of posing with old-time stiffness +and ceremony, were all laughing merrily as some one +of the band suddenly spied some comical or grotesque +aspect of the impersonator, when the Tike screamed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +shrilly, “Oh, who is that?” pointing to a black-draped +figure standing in the doorway of the hall, with +red, perspiring face, hat cocked on one side, and a +generally bedraggled appearance. +</p> +<p> +It was the missing Pioneer, Edith, who, after the +hubbub had subsided as to her untimely appearance and +tardy arrival, pulled off her long black cloak and threw +herself on the grass by the side of Lillie. With gasps +and sundry emphasizing shrieks she told what had +befallen her on the way to the Rally. +</p> +<p> +“Father was ill last night, so the first thing this +morning I had to go for the doctor. Then as mother +was busy attending to Father I had to get the youngsters +ready,—they were going to a May picnic, for +of course,” Edith added petulantly, “no matter what +happened to me, Mother would not have the kiddies +disappointed.” +</p> +<p> +Catching Mrs. Morrow’s reproving eye, she stammered +apologetically, “Of course, I would not have +them disappointed myself—they are dears—but it +lost me my morning; and then, just as I was hurrying +by the gray house,—oh, girls—” dropping her voice +to a tense whisper, “what do you think I heard?” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span><a name='chVII' id='chVII'></a>CHAPTER VII—THE MAYFLOWER FEAST</h2> +<p> +The tenseness of Edith’s tone, coupled with her +mysterious manner, had the desired effect, and +the Pioneers all bent forward eagerly with expectant +eyes, anxious to hear what she had seen and +heard, while some too impetuous one called out, “Oh, +do hurry and tell us what it was!” +</p> +<p> +“It was the most terrible shriek I ever heard,” answered +Edith, with a long-drawn sigh. Having succeeded +in getting her audience where she wanted them +she was anxious to prolong her triumph. “Why, my +heart jumped into my mouth, and I—” +</p> +<p> +“Where did the noise come from?” inquired practical +Helen impatiently, who never wasted any time +in getting wrought up, as she called it, by the Sport’s +yarns. +</p> +<p> +“It came from the garden of the gray house,” was +the quick retort; and then, crossly, “I do wish, Helen, +you would wait—you’ll spoil the whole thing if you +don’t let me tell it properly.” +</p> +<p> +Grace, who had been listening intently to the Sport’s +recital, looked up quickly and encountered a glance +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span> +from Nathalie’s eyes as she suddenly turned from +Edith and looked across the circle at Grace to see if +she had heard. But Grace, whose memory was still +rankling with her adventure at the gray house, was +afraid that if the girls knew they would plague her +unmercifully for being a runaway, and hastily put her +hand on her lips in warning not to tell what had happened +to them. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie nodded loyally and then turned to hear +Edith repeat, “Yes, the noise came from the garden +of the gray house, I have always told you there was +something queer about that place. At first I started +to run away, and then I thought, ‘O pshaw! whatever +it is, it won’t hurt me behind those high walls.’ +So I walked close up to the wall near one corner to +see if I could not manage to climb up in some way and +look into the garden. I had just spied a tiny hole in +the lower part of the wall—I guess some boys had +made it, you know they are always spying about that +place, anyway—when I heard loud breathing. I +looked up and saw a man creeping stealthily around the +corner of the wall, as if dodging some one. Well, I +just gave one look at him, he had great black, burning +kind of eyes, staring out of a face as white as a corpse. +He suddenly spied me, and by the uncanny glare he +gave I knew right off he was the one who had been +shrieking, he was the crazy man who lives there! +Great guns! but I didn’t wait to take another look, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +took to my heels and flew. Then I heard steps thumping +behind me—looked back—oh, girls,” she shrieked +hysterically, “he was chasing me, running after me as +hard as he could!” +</p> +<p> +She gulped, and then with a gasp continued, “Oh, +for a moment I thought I was doomed, but—well—you +know I can run, and I did, for my life. I ran +every step of the way here—and—oh, I’m so hungry! +Have you had the feast yet?” +</p> +<p> +“What became of the man?” inquired Helen +tersely. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, what became of him?” added one or two +others. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know and I don’t care,” asserted Miss +Edith carelessly. “All I know is that he is as crazy +as a loon, and that he lives in the gray house.” +</p> +<p> +“Edith,” exclaimed Mrs. Morrow sharply, “as long +as you did not see the man come from the gray house +do not say he lives there; and as for saying he is crazy, +that is absurd. That is just an idle report; do not repeat +it until you have proof that what you say is correct. +He was probably a tramp, and may have been +chased from the garden by one of the servants.” Mrs. +Morrow’s face showed keenly her annoyance and disbelief +in Edith’s surmise. +</p> +<p> +“But what could the screams have been?” asked +Helen, wonderingly, “if they really came from the +garden?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I am sure they did,” asserted the Sport positively, +“for I have heard other people say that they +have heard queer noises coming from that place. But +girls,” she exclaimed, as if anxious to dismiss the subject, +“do tell me what you have been doing. Oh, I +did so hate to miss all the fun.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, kiddie, it is too bad,” consoled Lillie, putting +her arm around her friend, “but we have not had the +feast yet, we’ve just been listening to little stories about +the Pilgrims—you know you heard me read my story +the other day—” she stopped abruptly, for a sudden +rustling in a clump of trees back of the garden had +caused every one to turn and peer apprehensively over +their shoulders. +</p> +<p> +“Oh,” shivered the Sport nervously, “perhaps it is +the crazy man!” She sprang to her feet and made +as if to take to her heels again. +</p> +<p> +Every girl followed her example, and in another +moment there would have been a wild stampede to the +shelter of the hall, if a loud voice had not called out, +“Welcome, Englishmen! Welcome!” +</p> +<p> +Simultaneously with these words a lithe form sprang +into the midst of the terrified girls, who clung to one +another with wildly beating hearts as with dilated eyes +they glared at the intruder, a tall Indian youth, resplendent +with a feathered head-gear. He was clad +in deerskin trousers fringed at the seams, a string of +hairy scalps hung at his belt, and he held a bow and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +arrow in his hands as he stood and looked down at +this bevy of frightened colonial maids with a broad +smile on his grease besmeared face. +</p> +<p> +There was just a second’s pause, and then Helen +shouted merrily, “Oh, it’s Teddy Hart, and he’s Samoset! +Oh, girls, don’t you remember? He was the +Indian who came and welcomed the Pilgrims!” +</p> +<p> +Of course they all remembered, for had not Lillie +dealt at length upon that very scene when telling her +story? And Teddy Hart, why, he was a Boy Scout, +one of Fred Tyson’s patrol, which was known as the +Eagle patrol. +</p> +<p> +This was all that was needed to make the girls forget +the crazy man and the Sport’s harrowing tale, and +they crowded about Teddy crying, “Oh, Ted, where +did you get the rig?” or, “What made you think of +it?” and, “Isn’t it the best ever?” This last was +from the Tike who was hopping about the new arrival +examining the hairy scalps—which turned out to be +a few wigs borrowed from the village barber—with +keen curiosity. +</p> +<p> +“Great Cæsar! give a fellow a chance to breathe, +won’t you?” fired the make-believe Samoset, as he +mopped his face energetically. “Don’t riddle me with +questions; I’m not a target!” +</p> +<p> +Yes, this was the second surprise, or the forerunner +of it, for before Teddy was ready to surrender his +place as the hero of the moment, the beat of a drum +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +was heard, and from the little bit of woodland where +Ted had been hiding issued a group of queer-looking +individuals. They were all attired in somber-colored +clothes with broad white collars, high conical-shaped +hats, and all carried guns and had swords clanking at +their sides in good impersonation of the Fathers of +their country. The next moment they had formed in +line and with well-simulated solemnity of countenance, +“as if going to meeting-house,” tittered Grace, these +sixteen men-at-arms, headed by Capt. Standish—who +was no other than Fred Tyson—marched valiantly +down the street towards the garden. +</p> +<p> +It was the Sport after all who saved the day for the +Pioneers, for as they stood in dazed laughter wondering +how to greet these unexpected guests, the Sport’s +hand shot up, and two seconds later the girls had joined +her in saluting their brother organization, as with one +accord they gave the Pioneer cheer. +</p> +<p> +In quick response to a signal from their leader, the +Scouts came to a halt, and as one man each Scout’s +hand went up to his forehead in the salute of three +ringers held upright. This was followed by another +cheer, a rousing one this time, as each boy shouted +lustily: +</p> +<p> + “Ready! Ready! Scout! Scout! Scout!<br /> + Good turn daily! Shout! Shout! Shout!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +The boys now fell into step again, and in a few moments +had entered the little wicker gate where they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +broke ranks as they were cordially welcomed by the +Governor’s lady and Dame Brewster. For a short +space following pandemonium reigned, as the boys +tried to answer the many queries propounded by the +girls, each Pioneer, spying some one favorite boy, +singled him out with merry jest to answer as to the +why and wherefore of the unlooked for surprise. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie felt somewhat embarrassed and stood apart +from the girls, not having met any of the Scouts of +the town. Perhaps she was a little scornful, for in +the city she had been wont to pass a khaki uniform with +scant approval, considering these emulators of chivalrous +knights mere boys. Not understanding the aims +or purposes of the organization they had failed to attract +her. +</p> +<p> +But as she stood watching these tall, well-developed +lads with heads held high, squared shoulders, and with +the ruddy glow of an active life in the open on their +bright faces, she reluctantly admitted that they were +interesting to look at, at least. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, Miss Nathalie, I see you have forgotten me!” +spoke a voice at the girl’s elbow. She turned quickly +to see the laughing brown eyes of Fred Tyson. Fred’s +face was flushed with embarrassment as he felt somewhat +timorous as to this city girl’s greeting, since he +had last seen her walking away from him with flushed +cheeks and angry mien as he teasingly taunted, “Scare-babies! +Scare-babies!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie had forgotten all about that trivial incident—perhaps +because she had a brother and knew +the moods of boys and how they delighted to tease and +hark at the girls—and she dimpled with cordiality as +she returned his greeting. +</p> +<p> +She was soon sparkling with merriment as Fred told +of the fun they had in rigging up, and the sensation +they created as they marched through Main Street. +By this time the explanations from the boys were over, +and the secret of the cheer fire was revealed. It had +been made by the Scouts at the suggestion of Dr. +Homer, who was much interested in the Pioneers and +had planned the two surprises to give a little more tone +to the celebration and fun to the girls. +</p> +<p> +The girls now clamored that they were hungry, and +at an intimation from Mrs. Morrow the Scouts were +invited to repair to one of the side rooms in the hall, +where their Mayflower Feast was to be held. +</p> +<p> +The invitation was accepted by Fred for the patrol, +and the party of merry-makers filed noisily into the +hall. When the boys saw the Stars and Stripes, and +the yards of red, white, and blue bunting hanging in +graceful folds from the walls of the room, they broke +into patriotic song. “Red, White, and Blue” was +first sung in compliment to the Girl Pioneers’ colors, +and was quickly succeeded by the “Battle Cry of Freedom,” +and “The Star-Spangled Banner,” in recognition +of the starry emblem that symbolizes—more than +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +any design that floats to the wind—the uplift of mankind, +Liberty, and Union! +</p> +<p> +A cheery fire of pine knots blazed a greeting from +the hearth, while two long boards supported on trestles +and covered with a shining damask cloth, represented +the table of Pioneer days. Odd bits of old-time ware, +such as silver porringers, queer-shaped jugs, or blackjacks, +a number of wooden bowls, a high-standing +salt-cellar, and a pewter tankard, were distributed +about the table. But it was the flowers that lay in +bunches here and there—and all May ones, too, from +the clusters of white snowballs, lilacs, pink and yellow +azaleas, to the big bowls filled with sprigs of arbutus—that +held Nathalie’s eyes. +</p> +<p> +But flags, antiques, and flowers soon became things +of the past, as the girls brought forth their lunch-baskets; +each one had vied with the other to bring some +choice edible and with the help of the modern knights, +who declared that they had come for that purpose, +the table was loaded with goodies. +</p> +<p> +Just before the feast was served, Will Ditmas, a fair +counterpart of William Brewster, the ruling elder of +Plymouth, suddenly stood up and, after much throat-clearing, +announced in a droning voice that if those +present were willing, for the furtherance of sobriety +and seemly behavior, he would read a few rules from +“A Pretty Little Pocket Book.” +</p> +<p> +After stonily staring over a pair of goggles at a few +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +irrepressible gigglers the would-be Elder read: +“Speak not until spoken to; break not thy bread, nor +bite into a whole slice; take not salt unless with a clean +knife, and throw no bones under the table.” +</p> +<p> +Those who were trying to keep their faces straight +wavered in the attempt and joined the irrepressible +Tike in a few hysterical titters as he continued: +“Hold not thy fork upright, but sloping, lay it down +at the right hand of the plate, with the end of the blade +on the table plate, and look not earnestly at any person +that is eating.” +</p> +<p> +This last was the final straw for the Tike, and she +giggled so unrestrainedly that she threatened hysteria, +and Helen had to whack her on the back so that she +could get her breathing apparatus in working order +again. This ebullition was like a match to fire, and all +those who had been smothering their mirth now broke +forth into loud laughter, which threatened to become +clamorous had not Mrs. Morrow held up her restraining +finger. +</p> +<p> +The signal was too well known not to be obeyed, +and the too mirthful ones were recalled to themselves. +Then, too, they were all hungry; so forgetting the old-time +admonitions of their forebears, they were soon +occupied satisfying their hunger. +</p> +<p> +After the left-over goodies had been gathered into +baskets to be delivered to a poor family, and the place +was set in order again, the chivalrous knights and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +emulating Pioneers swarmed merrily into the dance +hall, where they held high court to the light fantastic +as Mrs. Morrow, the one-piece orchestra, rattled off +ragtime harmony for round and square dances. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie by this time had met a number of the +Scouts, and to her surprise found that some of them +danced as well as, and in some cases better than her boy +friends in the city. The would-be Elder, who had +droned the rules from the pocket book, proved not only +a good dancer, but most companionable, and finding +that Nathalie was sadly ignorant as to the aims and +purposes of the Scout organization, he set forth to +enlighten her. +</p> +<p> +He took off his Scout badge, pointed out the eagle, +and the stars and shield, explaining that it was a trefoil +badge and represented the three points in the Scout +oath. The curl-up at the end of the scroll was a +reminder to each Scout that the corners of his mouth +should always be turned up in a smile of cheerfulness. +The knot in the loop was a “conscience pricker,” as +he expressed it, that a Scout was pledged to do some +one a good turn every day. +</p> +<p> +The next dance was Fred Tyson’s, and when it +ended they seated themselves in a corner of the hall +to cool off, and as Nathalie fanned herself with a +much bedraggled handkerchief, they hit upon a topic +that proved most entertaining, and that was—college. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +Fred stated that he expected to go to Dartmouth in the +fall and was therefore looking forward to it with +much pleasure. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, with sparkling eyes, told how she had +dreamed and longed to go to college, and then the +golden lights in her eyes shadowed as she said that +since the death of her father she had decided to stop +dreaming about what was impossible for her, and to +do something worth while, so she had become a +Pioneer. +</p> +<p> +“But don’t you think it worth while to go to college?” +was Fred’s puzzled query, “for surely there +is nothing that will help a girl more in life than to have—what +is it—the higher education?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I know,” assented his companion, “that is +all right, but when one finds that they can’t have a +thing—no matter how big or grand it is, or how much +they want it—if it is impossible, it ceases to be worth +while; that is, why spend time lamenting, or thinking +about something that can’t be accomplished?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, you are a regular little philosopher!” +laughed Fred. But Nathalie was not heeding, for suddenly +looking across the room she perceived that the +dancers had retired from the floor, all but the Pioneers, +who were standing in two lines in the center of the +room facing one another as if about to dance the Virginia +Reel. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, what are they going to do?” she cried, but +before her companion could answer Helen came running +up. +</p> +<p> +“Come on, Nathalie, we are going to dance the +Pioneer dance. It’s lots of fun.” +</p> +<p> +“But I don’t know it,” objected the girl. “I am +not going to make a show of myself before all these +boys.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but you won’t,” urged Helen, “for you can +be my partner, and I will tell you as we go along; and +then its awfully simple, for we just go through the +motions of pioneer handcraft—” +</p> +<p> +“Pioneer handcraft?” echoed Nathalie more puzzled +than before. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, don’t you remember what Mrs. Morrow told +us about the handcrafts of the Pioneer women? Well, +she made up this dance to make these crafts definite. +Oh, come, it is easy!” In a moment, Nathalie’s objection +being overruled, she bade Fred good-by and +was hurried by her partner to join one of the two lines +on the floor. +</p> +<p> +Only a few explanations were necessary, and Nathalie, +who was quick to learn, joined her voice to the +girlish ones singing: +</p> +<p> + “Singing, ringing thro’ the air<br /> + Comes the song of Molly fair.<br /> + Milking, milking Crumple Horn<br /> + Down in the barn at early dawn.”<br /> +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span></div> +<p> +As the song ended, the closed right hand of every +Girl Pioneer was held out in front, elbow bent upward. +Then came three movements up and down in imitation +of the act of churning. This was done three +times, as in chorus came: +</p> +<p> + “Churning, turning, see it splash,<br /> + This way, that way, with a dash.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +As the next two lines rang out: +</p> +<p> + “Skimming skimming foamy white,<br /> + Making the butter golden bright,”<br /> +</p> +<p> +the motions were changed to those of skimming milk, +repeated three times as in the previous movement, the +girls emphasizing the end of each movement by stamping +the feet, using first one and then the other. They +ended this last motion by each girl placing her hands +on her hips and tripping in line with the others lightly +down the room in time with the music and then back +to place. +</p> +<p> +A second of time, and each dancer was making the +motion of holding a baby in her encircled arms, and +while swaying to and fro these words were softly +crooned: +</p> +<p> + “Golden slumber kiss your eyes,<br /> + Smiles awake you when you rise.<br /> + Sleep pretty wantons, do not cry,<br /> + And I will sing a lullabye.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Another moment, and the arms had fallen, each girl +faced her opposite partner, and then linking hands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +together they were rocking a cradle as they joyously +warbled: +</p> +<p> + “Baby is a sailor boy, swing, cradle, swing;<br /> + Sailing is the sailor’s joy, swing, cradle, swing.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Now the girls were waltzing gaily down the room +and back again to place, where this time they formed +in rows of three in each line. A crash of chords from +the piano, and each girl stepped forward with outstretched +left hand, and made the motion of taking +something with the right hand from the closed left, +and casting it on the ground, as they repeated clearly +and loudly: +</p> +<p> + “Good flax and good hemp to have of her own,<br /> + In May, a good housewife will see that it is sown.<br /> + And afterwards trim it to serve in a need,<br /> + The fimble to spin, the card from her reel.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Yes, they were sowing hemp as their great-grand-mothers +had done hundreds of years ago—a sign of a +thrifty housewife. Now came three claps of the hand +and again the girls swung into two facing lines. Each +performer now lightly put forward the right foot, +poised on the ball of the left one, while making the +motion as of moving the treadle of a spinning-wheel, +as with lifted hands she twisted the flax, stopping every +moment to moisten one finger in an imaginary cup +fastened to the distaff. +</p> +<div><a name='illus-122' id='illus-122'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i004' id='i004'></a> +<img src="images/illus-122.jpg" alt="“Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span></div> +<p> +“Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen as leader +of the dance, and then came the old-fashioned couplet +softly hummed: +</p> +<p> + “Count your threads right,<br /> + If you reel in the night<br /> + When I am far away.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Before Nathalie could decide whether the couplet +meant only to count your threads at night while Polly +was far away, the dancers had swung into place and +were going through the minuet. With slow and stately +measure they moved, ending each turn with the dipping, +sweeping curtsy that has made that dance so +graceful a reminder of the festivities of early days. +</p> +<p> +Now they are singing: +</p> +<p> + “Twice a year deplumed may they be<br /> + In spryngen tyme and harvest tyme,”<br /> +</p> +<p> +as with swift motion each girl pretended to grab up +something with her left hand while the right flew up +and down with noiseless regularity—plucking a goose +for dinner. +</p> +<p> +The next instant every alternate girl had put her +hand over her mouth in the form of a horn and was +calling loudly, “Ho, Molly Gray! Hi, Crumple +Horn!” This call had barely ceased its musical reverberation +when each fair dancer caught up the hem of +her apron and, bending forward, with well-simulated +deftness was gathering or picking up something from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +the ground which was quickly thrust into her apron. +Another flash of white arms, and each girl had caught +up the hem of her neighbor’s gown and with a pretended +switch was driving her forward while merrily +singing: +</p> +<p> + “Driving in twilight the waiting cows home,<br /> + With arms full-laden with hemlock boughs,<br /> + To be traced on a broom ere the coming day<br /> + From its eastern chamber should dance away.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +As the songs and motions ended, the girls filed into +line and marched around the room as if carrying muskets, +that is, women’s muskets, brooms. +</p> +<p> +Once more in row, each girl pretended she was +holding a card with one hand, while drawing another +card softly, but swiftly across the first. This was +done with a deft, catchy motion as the girls sing-songed: +</p> +<p> + “Niddy-noddy, niddy-noddy<br /> + Two heads on one body.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“Now we are imitating the motions of carding +wool,” Helen whispered softly to Nathalie. “Niddy-noddy +means the old-fashioned hand-reel used in the +days when there were no machines.” +</p> +<p> +The Pioneers had finished carding wool and were +dancing the Virginia Reel, spinning each other around +with the vigor and vim of young hearts as a prelude +to the next dance. In this they simulated sewing, +taking their stitches with a precision and handiness +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +that rivalled the little maids of Puritan days. With +a posture as of holding a wooden frame, while in and +out the needle flew, each damsel repeated slowly, with +quaint precision: +</p> +<p> + “Lola Standish is my name.<br /> + Lord, guide my heart that I may do thy will,<br /> + And fill my Hands with such convenient skill<br /> + As will conduce to Virtue void of shame,<br /> + And I will give the Glory to thy name.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Only a space of time and the samplers were dropped, +and each girl grew strangely still, with bent head and +listening ears. With eyes flaming in a fixed stare she +poised an imaginary fowling-piece on her shoulder. +They stood for a moment in this pose as each one +present grasped the idea that they were doing the deed +that many a Pioneer woman had bravely done in those +early days, in the absence of husband keeping guard +over the home from the relentless ravages of the red +man! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span><a name='chVIII' id='chVIII'></a>CHAPTER VIII—THE MOTTO, “I CAN”</h2> +<p> +A few days after the Pilgrim Rally, as Nathalie +lay in the hammock dreaming day dreams as +she was wont to do, her mother came and +seated herself in a low chair near by. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie turned, and then with a quick movement +sat up as she asked anxiously, “Oh, Mother, has anything +happened?” +</p> +<p> +“I should say ‘anything’ has happened,” ejaculated +Dick, who was lounging near, ignoring his mother’s +gesture to be silent, “for your mother has been chief +cook and bottle-washer all day!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, who had been off on a Pioneer demonstration +most of the day, showed her dismay as she +exclaimed, “Oh, where is Ophelia?” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Page’s worry lines deepened as she answered, +“Oh, she is ill. She has been complaining for some +days, and when she begged to be allowed to go home +this morning I did not have the heart to refuse her. +Poor thing! she looked the embodiment of woe!” +</p> +<p> +“But isn’t she coming back?” inquired alarmed +Nathalie. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +</p> +<p> +“Not for several days,” was the answer, as Mrs. +Page leaned wearily back in her chair. +</p> +<p> +“But can’t we get some one to help us?” demanded +her daughter insistently. +</p> +<p> +“Dorothy went to the colored settlement, but could +not get any one. Colored people don’t like to work +in warm weather, and I don’t blame them,” her mother +added in an undertone, “for standing over a fire in +this heat is terrible.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, what shall we do?” thought Nathalie ruefully, +as she saw a pile of unwashed dishes confronting her. +But a cheery “Hello?” caused her to look up to see +her friend, with dust-brush in hand, cleaning the window +shutters of the neighboring house. With gripping +force she suddenly realized how useful Helen +was, and the numerous things she managed to do to +help her mother, notwithstanding the many hours she +was compelled to spend at the stenography school. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie twisted about in the hammock; somehow +it did not seem as comfortable as it did before her +mother had come. Her sky visions had departed, and +in their place had come the thought that she ought to +help her mother. Oh, but dish-washing was degrading, +such greasy work. She glanced down at her slim, +white hands as if they would aid her in this argument +with self. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, why do people have to do the very things they +hate?” she questioned rebelliously as she arose from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +her comfortable position and with a long-drawn sigh +started to enter the house. +</p> +<p> +“You have dropped your book!” exclaimed her +mother as she stooped and picked up the Pioneer +manual that had fallen from Nathalie’s lap and handed +it to her. +</p> +<p> +“Thank you,” returned the girl and then, with a +pang of regret as she noted her mother’s weary eyes, +she bent and kissed her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I’m so sorry you had to work so hard!” she +cried impulsively. “Isn’t there something I can do +to help?” She almost wished her mother would +say no. +</p> +<p> +“Not now,” replied her mother with a brighter expression +than she had worn, “but perhaps you can help +me later—when I get dinner.” +</p> +<p> +“All right,” returned her daughter with forced +cheerfulness. As she entered the hall her eyes were +caught by the word “Pioneer” in big, black letters +on the manual. Reminded by the name that flaunted +itself so determinedly before her, she remembered that +she was a Pioneer, that she had taken vows upon herself, +and that in order to keep these vows she should +do the very things, perhaps, that she hated to do. +This new thought jarred her uncomfortably as she +hurried up to her room and began to make herself cool +and comfortable after a rather strenuous morning +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +spent in trying her hand at the many new interests that +had come to her as a Pioneer. +</p> +<p> +But somehow she was haunted, as it were, by the +thought that she was not making a good beginning as +a Pioneer; oh, yes, being a Pioneer did not mean all +play, or even doing the things that were interesting, or +that one liked to do, those were the Director’s words +that morning. The more one gives up or overcomes in +order to do and accomplish the demands made upon +her as a Pioneer, the greater the victory. She picked +up the manual from the bureau and began to turn its +leaves aimlessly, and then she halted, for two very +small words held her eyes, “I can!” why, that was the +Pioneer motto—the one Lillie Bell had mentioned +when she told of the picked chicken. She would read +the laws! +</p> +<p> +“A Girl Pioneer is trustworthy.” Oh, Nathalie was +sure she was that. “Helpful,” her conscience pricked +sharply. Was she helpful if she didn’t try and do all +she could to help her mother? “O dear,” she ruminated, +“I am shying at the first ‘overcome.’” She remembered +that Mrs. Morrow had said all the disagreeable +things that one didn’t want to do, but did in the +end, were “overcomes.” +</p> +<p> +“Kind—” she heaved a sigh, well, she was afraid +she hadn’t been very kind the other day when she had +answered Lucille so sharply, but she was trying, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +the hasty retort would slip out; she would have to put +a button on her lips as her mother often told her. +</p> +<p> +“Reverent,” her religion taught her that. +“Happy,” not always, for how could one be happy +when life had been full of disappointments? Her +eyes saddened as she thought of Dick, who was so +patiently waiting for something to turn up, so that he +could have the operation on his knee. Poor fellow! +she had felt like crying the other day when she heard +him telling how he had written to a law firm in the +city in the hope that he could get some copying to do +so that he could earn some money. +</p> +<p> +“Happiness does not always mean having what we +want; it is being contented with what we have,” that +was another of Mrs. Morrow’s interpretations of the +Pioneer laws. “Cheerful,” here Nathalie broke into +a laugh, quite sure she was always cheerful when she +had the things she wanted. “There!” she cried +aloud, “I am not going to read any more of those laws, +for if I am to—” she stooped, for the manual had +fallen to the floor. As she picked it up she again encountered +the words, “I can.” +</p> +<p> +“I can!” she repeated once or twice mechanically. +Then her face lighted, as if the meaning of the words +had suddenly flashed themselves clear of the thoughts +that had been revolving in her mind. +</p> +<p> +“But what can I do?” she continued doubtingly. +</p> +<p> +“You can wash the dishes for your mother in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +morning so that she can read her morning paper,” +some one seemed to whisper. She started. “And +you can get up and get breakfast the way Helen does +when her mother is not feeling well,” this time the +some one spoke very loudly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but I can’t cook, nobody would eat my breakfast,” +she thought, still holding back. +</p> +<p> +“But if you are a Pioneer you should learn to do +these things.” She frowned as if to brush aside an +unpleasant thought. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I suppose I can do these things,” she reluctantly +admitted after a moment’s thought. “O +dear—I have been lamenting that I had no purpose +in life, that I was just drifting. I cried the other day +because Mother said my talents were gilt-edged. +‘Yes, I Can,’” suddenly broke from her. “I’m going +to begin right now, too; I’ll show Mother that I am not +a gilt-edge drifter. I’ll learn to cook—oh, I’ll just +make myself do those horrible, horrible things—I’ll +show you, Miss I Can, so there!” She hastily wiped +away the tears that would come, and then, as was her +wont after a mental conflict, she began to sing. A +few moments later she was down in the kitchen hustling +about, seeing what there was for dinner. +</p> +<p> +A steak, oh, yes, she knew how to broil that—and +potatoes—oh, they were easy! The next minute she +had seated herself before the kitchen table, and as she +peeled the potatoes she sang with unwonted animation: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +</p> +<p> + “We stick to work until it’s done<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers.<br /> + We never from our duty run,<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers.<br /> + We learn to cook, to sew, to mend<br /> + To sweep, to dust, to clean, to tend,<br /> + And always willing hands to lend.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +As she paused to think how she could manage the +next vegetable, Mrs. Page entered, showing amazement +as she saw what her daughter was doing, for full +well she knew that Nathalie disliked anything in the +way of housework. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Nathalie!” she exclaimed, “you need not +do that. I will get dinner; there is not so much to do, +for Felia made some pies yesterday, and with a steak, +thank goodness! there will not be much to cook.” +</p> +<p> +“Now, see here, Mumsie,” cried the new housewife, +flourishing her knife menacingly at her mother, “I am +chief of this ranch. You have lamented that I was +just a gilt-edged doll, now I’m going to show you +I’m not. I’m a Pioneer, and I’m going to learn everything +useful. Now be off!” As her mother protested +there ensued a little wrestling-match in which +the girl came off victor, and Mrs. Page, subdued into +meekness, retired to the veranda, somewhat relieved to +think she could rest awhile. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie snuggled down to sleep that night—she +was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open—she +felt supremely happy, for she had cooked dinner +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +all by herself. To be sure Dick had growled and +claimed the steak was burnt, and Lucille had volunteered +the information that Felia never mashed her potatoes +that way, but it made no difference to the happy +Blue Robin—as Dick had called her—for she was +pleased to think that for once in her life she had helped. +Of course, Mother had laughed at her blunders, but it +was in the old happy way that she used to do when +Papa had been with them. +</p> +<p> +Next morning Nathalie awoke with a start, she +smiled drowsily at some passing remembrance of the +day before, and then turned over for a beauty nap. +Suddenly she sat up with eyes keen and alert; if she +was to be maid of all work that day she must get at +her job. In fifteen minutes she was creeping stealthily +down the kitchen stairs with her shoes in her hands, +so as not to awaken her mother. +</p> +<p> +Oh! the fire was out; that was a difficulty she had +not taken into calculation. For a moment she was +tempted to crawl up those stairs and leave the fire to +the next one who discovered it. Oh, but that would +not do at all. She didn’t know how to make a fire, +but the words “I can,” made her close her mouth determinedly, +and in a few moments clouds of rising +smoke attested that she was learning. But alas, the +smoke soon drifted into space, and the blaze disappeared +in a mass of black paper! +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s tears came at this; oh, why would not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +that wood catch fire? Tried to the soul, she went to +the window and gazed through a mist of tears at the +dew sparkling on bush and grass. A low, sweet +whistling caused her to look up to see Helen, as fresh +as a new-blown rose, throwing open the shutters of her +room. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie pursed up her lips and then broke into a +“Tru-al-lee!” +</p> +<p> +Helen glanced down quickly, her eyes lighted, and +then came a quick Bob White call that sounded much +like “More wet! More wet!” In another instant +she was down on the porch calling merrily to her +friend, “Oh, Nathalie, how are you this morning?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie dimpled cheerily. “Oh, fine!” making a +dab at her eyes, “but at my wits’ end trying to make +a fire. Will you tell me why it will insist upon going +out? It is maddening! I have lighted it six times.” +</p> +<p> +“What, you making a fire?” said Helen, and then, +“Just wait a moment and I will come over and see +what is wrong.” +</p> +<p> +Under Helen’s nimble fingers the brown paper was +taken out, the fire-pot filled with loosely wrapped newspaper, +small sticks laid crisscross, a few larger ones +on top, and then a match applied. Like magic the tiny +blue flame sputtered, caught hold of an edge of paper, +and then in a few moments a blazing fire was seething +and swirling. Nathalie, in exuberant joy, seized her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +friend and the two girls waltzed merrily around the +kitchen. +</p> +<p> +Of course Nathalie knew how to make toast, but +when Helen showed her how to hold it over the coals +until it was a golden-brown, butter it while hot, and +then cut off the scraggly edges and a rim of crust, she +realized that toast-making was indeed a domestic science. +Scrambled eggs came next, simple, but deliciously +done, as her friend showed her. Then came +putting the coffee in the percolator with the water +heated beneath by the tiny alcohol lamp, thus drawing +from the beverage the most nutritious qualities, Helen +declared, without injuring one’s digestion. +</p> +<p> +But the grape-fruit—that was another new thing +learned—was prepared the way Helen said a trained +nurse had taught her, one time when her mother was +ill. It was cut in half, the pulp dug out with a spoon +into a cup or saucer, and after the pith had been removed, +chopped finely, returned to shell, and then +sugared and put on the ice. But perhaps the best part +of helping Mother that morning was when, after striking +the Japanese gong eight bells, Nathalie arrayed +herself in Felia’s freshly laundered cap and apron and +stationed herself back of her mother’s chair to serve +breakfast. +</p> +<p> +How pleased and surprised her mother was! Dick +“Blue Robined” her again, while Lucille patronizingly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +exclaimed, “Oh, Nathalie, you make a swell maid—and +how smart you are getting!” +</p> +<p> +Just before dinner, Helen appeared again, and taught +her how to make soup from a few boiled bones and a +chunk of meat, a few left-over tomatoes, and a bit of +onion and seasoning. She taught her to broil a steak,—this +time without a burnt speck—how to make +white sauce for some left-over fish, how to scrape new +potatoes economically, and the right way to cook peas. +Then came a delicious dessert of stale pieces of cake +and canned peaches, laid in layers with beaten cream, +and topped off with little white pigs, as Nathalie called +the tiny bits of egg froth floating on its surface. +Truly, it was a dinner fit for a king! +</p> +<p> +After dinner her sensitive soul rebelled at the pile of +greasy dishes, but the task grew lighter when Helen +showed her how to make the water hot and soapy, using +a lot of dried bits of soap that Nathalie was going to +throw away, by sewing them in cheese-cloth bags. She +washed the glasses and silver first, then the china, and +then—oh, horrors—the pots! But when the new +Pioneer saw how her friend put them on to boil, thus +doing away with so much grease, it was a revelation. +And when the dish-towels were washed and hung out +in the sun to sweeten, and the sink was scrubbed with +a brush and a cleansing soap, Nathalie was again forced +to admit that she had mastered another household +science. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +</p> +<p> +Oh, no, it wasn’t all plain sailing—the world isn’t +run that way—and the new Pioneer’s back, eyes, and +feet made themselves forcibly known before she went +to bed that night. Many a time she had had to grit +her teeth, summon Miss I Can to her side, and with +forced determination go on with the job; but after all, +she declared, as she turned out the light, “I have helped +Mother!” and then sleep claimed the tired girl. +</p> +<p> +When Saturday morning came, however, and no +Felia made her appearance according to promise, Nathalie’s +face grew somber, and she could not help going +to the door every few minutes to see if she were +not in sight, for she had planned to go on a bird-hike +that morning with the Pioneers to learn bird-calls. As +the clock struck nine she dropped her broom—she was +sweeping the kitchen—and rushed to her room. +Here she wept copiously for a while in her clothes +closet with her head buried in the skirts of her dresses, +so no one could hear, and then she heard her mother +calling her. +</p> +<p> +She dried her eyes guiltily, scrubbed her face to brush +away all trace of tears, and then answered blithely, +“Here I am, Mumsie, I’m coming right down to finish +the kitchen.” When she came tearing down the stairs +she found the kitchen swept and garnished, and lo! +there stood Mother with big, surprised eyes pointing to +Lucille, who, as she caught sight of her cousin, bobbed +her head and dropped a curtsy, crying, “Sure, ma’am, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +it’s a new job I’m afther takin’ on meself, but do yez +see the loikes of it for the claneness?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie gave one bewildered stare, and then a merry +peal of laughter broke from her, seconded with a minor +note from her mother, and with a bass accompaniment +added by Dick, as he entered and sensed the situation. +Yes, Miss I Can must have caught Lucille in her +meshes, too, for that young lady, generally so dainty in +her labor preferences, had condescended to sweep the +kitchen. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” she explained apologetically, “I was jealous +of the praise bestowed upon Nathalie, and thought +I’d show you folks that people can do things even if +they are not Blue Robins.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Lucille, you aren’t a Blue Robin, you’re a duck +of a dear,” bubbled Nathalie as she hugged her cousin +rapturously. “It was just lovely of you. But +Mother, did you know what she was doing?” +</p> +<p> +“No, I did not,” rejoined Mrs. Page; “I thought +it was you working all by yourself and came in to help, +as I knew you wanted to go on the hike. But before +you go, dear,” she added anxiously, “I want you to go +down to Felia’s and see how she is. If she is not coming +back by Monday you will have to hunt around for +a washerwoman; the clothes can’t go another week.” +</p> +<p> +An hour later, Nathalie, delighted to think she could +take a day off with a clear conscience, hurried in the +direction of Ophelia’s little gray shanty; but to her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +surprise, as she came near the door she heard a loud +wailing and the confused hum of several voices. +</p> +<p> +As she entered the stuffy parlor hung with gay colored +prints and dingy-looking chromos, she found +Ophelia seated in a rocking chair with her face buried +in a gingham apron, wailing and crying hysterically. +Pushing her way through the crowd of sympathizing +friends, Nathalie grabbed the arm of a colored woman +who stood by Felia’s side crying, “Oh, please, won’t +you tell me what’s the matter?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure, Miss,” respectfully answered the woman, +wiping a tear from her eye. “It’s little Rosy, she’s +lost—we can’t find her—ah, honey, don’t take on +so!” she ended, turning towards the grieving mother +and giving her a caressing pat on the shoulder. +“Surely some one will find her.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie now stepped to Felia’s side and pulled her +gently by the sleeve, determined to get some definite +information about black Rosebud, as Dick called the +little pickaninny who had often come to the house +with her mother, and who, being a bright child, had +become a prime favorite. “Ophelia, please tell me +about your trouble!” insisted the girl. “Is Rosy +surely lost?” +</p> +<p> +“She lost sure nuff, Missy, down at de bottom of +de pond,” quavered Felia’s mother dismally, an aged +negress standing by the side of her daughter, as she +rolled up her eyes until the whites looked like saucers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +on a shelf. “I’se gwine to tell you de trufe—dat +chile is drowned. Oh, I see her face a-shinin’ in de +water—” +</p> +<p> +Her horrible prognostication as to Rosy’s woeful +fate was terminated by her daughter’s renewed wails +of anguish, as she again began to rock herself to and +fro with redoubled force. +</p> +<p> +“Oh,” thought Nathalie, frowning angrily in the +direction of the old mammy, “I do wish she would +stop.” Then she cried, “Oh, Felia, don’t cry so—I +am sure she will be found—perhaps she is at one of +the neighbors’ houses, you know she is fond of +visiting.” +</p> +<p> +There was such sympathetic concern in the girl’s +voice that Felia desisted from her lamentations long +enough to cry, “Oh, Miss Natty, she done go and get +lost—she ain’t nowhere hereabouts!” Then in answer +to further questioning she said that the child had +been seen just before dark picking posies over in a +meadow with several children, but when bedtime came +she could not be found. +</p> +<p> +“Has any one looked for her?” demanded Nathalie, +turning towards the group of colored women +as poor Felia went back to her apron wailing pitifully, +“I’se gwine promise yo’, Lord, if yo’ bring my baby +back, I’ll never get mad with her again. I’ll promise +sure—” but the rest of Felia’s prayer was lost as the +women crowded around Nathalie and eagerly explained +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +that Dan Washington, Paul Jones, and Abe +Smith had searched the town for her. They had been +up all night, but when morning came had to return to +their jobs, and there was no one looking for her at +that time. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I’m so sorry, Felia!” sympathized Nathalie +again to the weeping mother. Then, after asking if +the town authorities had been notified, she decided to +hasten home, knowing that she could not get any one +to promise to work for her at that time. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it is too bad!” she lamented as she hurried +down Main Street. “It does seem as if some one +ought to be searching for her now, why the poor child +may be injured or something!” Her too vivid +imagination pictured her, not down at the bottom of +the pond, as mammy had done, but crying piteously +of fear and hunger in some lonely place. “I suppose +the police in this town will take some hours to get on +to the job, as Dick says.” She suddenly paused and +her eyes shone with a bright light. She wrinkled her +brow thoughtfully a moment as if going over something +in her mind, and then with the glad cry, “Oh, +I know we can do it—it will be just the thing!” +She broke into a run as if her sudden inspiration would +escape her if she did not hurry. +</p> +<p> +With good speed she soon reached the house, hurriedly +told her mother what had befallen Rosy and the +condition she had found things in at the negro settlement, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span> +and then, telling her she would be back in a few +moments, she flew post-haste across the road to Mrs. +Morrow’s house. Here the Pioneers with eager, expectant +faces were all talking animatedly, their brown +uniforms, red ties, and broad-brimmed hats suggestive +of the good time in store for them. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, here she comes!” sang out Helen, as she spied +Nathalie hastening up the path towards the veranda. +“Why, where have you been? We began to think you +were not coming.” +</p> +<p> +“I had to go on an errand for Mother!” Then with +glowing eyes she told them of the visit to the colored +settlement and about the lost Rosy, the grief of her +mother, and how there was no one looking for the +child. “Oh, girls,” she ended in a quiver of excitement, +“let’s give up the bird-hike for to-day, and see +if we cannot find little Rosy!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span><a name='chIX' id='chIX'></a>CHAPTER IX—SEARCHING FOR ROSY</h2> +<p> +An oppressive silence followed, while each girl +looked blankly at her neighbor. The new +Pioneer’s face flushed, and her eager, excited +eyes shadowed, as she quickly realized that in her +eagerness to follow the law of kindliness she had been +too officious. She stood in dismayed embarrassment, +the chill of an unpleasant surprise benumbed her. +With a faint hope she turned her eyes appealingly towards +Helen, surely her level head and kind heart +would prompt her to second her. Helen caught the +look and smiled faintly. +</p> +<p> +Edith, who was always the first one to either second +or down a proposition, broke the silence by exclaiming +in an aggrieved tone, “Why, the idea, Nathalie Page! +we can’t give up the bird-hike, we’ve all brought our +lunches!” +</p> +<p> +“I should say not,” interposed Lillie Bell with flashing +eyes. “Why, it would take the whole morning, +and there could be no hike for to-day, and next week +I can’t go, I—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, they have probably found the child by this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +time!” ventured Barbara North, to Nathalie’s surprise, +as she had always found her of a kindly nature. +</p> +<p> +“Well, <em>I</em> for <em>one</em> don’t think it is our place to look +for the child, anyway,” asserted Jessie, decisively. +“Let the men of the town do it. There are three policemen +hanging around all day with nothing to do.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s cheeks had lost their pink bloom; her face +stiffened as she retorted coolly, “Well, just as you +please, I see I have made a mistake.” She nerved herself. +“I thought kindliness was one of the laws of +the organization, and it seemed to me that our pleasure +was to take a secondary place when we had an opportunity +to do a kind act. If you had seen the poor +mother sobbing—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, fiddle!” ejaculated Lillie, “those colored people +are all emotion; their sobs don’t count for much. +I agree with Jessie that the townspeople should send +out a search party, and I for one refuse to give up the +hike. Who’s on my side?” she ended abruptly, turning +and facing the group. +</p> +<p> +“I!” and “I!” shouted several voices at once in +answer. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie backed towards the edge of the veranda. +“I seem to be in the minority,” she said with assumed +indifference, although her heart was beating in double-quick +time, for something had whispered, “They are +very rude, I would resign immediately.” But this +suggestion was bravely silenced by the thought, “No, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +I will not be as small as that, I will show I do not +care.” +</p> +<p> +“There must be some one who thinks as I do,” she +ended resolutely, wishing that she could run from this +affront to her sensitiveness. +</p> +<p> +“I am with you, Nathalie!” suddenly cried Helen, +walking towards her friend and putting her arm +around her. +</p> +<p> +Grace looked at the bevy of girls who had bunched +together, then at the faces of her two friends. In a +faint voice she asserted lamely, “And I, Nathalie, I +didn’t stop to think—” +</p> +<p> +“And, Nathalie, you can count me on your side!” +broke in a voice at this moment. The girls, alert at the +prospect of a division in the group, turned quickly to +see Mrs. Morrow place herself by the side of Nathalie, +taking her hand as she did so and giving it a cordial +squeeze. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s color came racing back and her heart +leaped with joy. Ah, then she had not been too officious, +after all! She turned to see the girls standing +in embarrassed silence with shamed eyes and uncertain +mien. But Lillie, who was generally the spokesman +of the group when Helen was on the opposite +side, cried somewhat pertly, “Why, Mrs. Morrow, do +you think it is our place to go and hunt for that colored +child? I should think it was the duty of the townspeople +to look after those things.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +</p> +<p> +“That is not the question,” replied the Director +coldly. “As Nathalie said, kindliness is one of the +basic laws of the organization. We should be poor +Pioneers indeed if we saw a man drowning and +then stood and argued as to whether it was our place +to save him or not. Nathalie, I commend you not only +for your kind suggestion, but for having the real +pioneer courage in maintaining what you believed to +be right. You have shown yourself a true Blue Robin +and I am proud of you. Now, girls, we will put it to +a vote. Those of you who want to go on the hike, up +with their hands.” Not a hand was raised. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow’s face brightened as she cried laughingly, +“Now who wants to join a search-party with +Nathalie as captain, and see if they can find little +Rosebud?” +</p> +<p> +Every hand flew up, and there was a general cry of, +“I do! I do!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, girls,” said Mrs. Morrow kindly, as her +eyes traveled from face to face, “I see you have repented +of the error of your way. Let Nathalie’s example +inspire you!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I guess we just didn’t stop to think!” broke +forth Barbara, with shamed eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Well, when one has made up her mind to do a +thing she would be a saint to give it up without a +fuss,” remarked Lillie. “Of course, Nathalie was all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +right, but she had had time to think it all out and we +hadn’t!” +</p> +<p> +“A good explanation, Lillie,” answered Mrs. Morrow, +“but I hope you have all learned a lesson. Now, +Nathalie, make your suggestions and we’ll get to +work.” +</p> +<p> +The new Pioneer had already divided the girls into +two sections, with Helen as one leader, and Lillie Bell +as the other. It did hurt a little to give Lillie the first +place after she had spoken as she had, but Nathalie +realized her worth, and then, too, she did not want to +show any resentment. “You see,” she explained, “I +am only a dummy captain, for I am not as familiar +with the town as the rest of you are, and there will be +no time lost in making false moves.” +</p> +<p> +“That is a very sensible decision, Nathalie,” nodded +Mrs. Morrow, “but the question is where to look +first!” +</p> +<p> +“Suppose we go down to the settlement, make a survey, +and get our bearings?” voiced Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Good, Helen, that is just the thing!” acquiesced +the Director, as the girls at her suggestion hurriedly +deposited their lunch-boxes in the hall, while Nathalie +ran over to tell her mother her plans. +</p> +<p> +In a few moments the would-be searchers started, +each girl equipped with her staff, while the two leaders +triumphantly displayed their whistles, which they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +claimed would be of great help if any of the party got +lost and their voices did not carry. +</p> +<p> +It did not take long to reach Felia’s shanty, and as +Nathalie ran in to tell her that the Pioneers were going +to hunt for Rosy, the rest of the party gazed with quick, +alert eyes first in one direction and then in the other. +</p> +<p> +“I should not be surprised if the child had wandered +away looking for flowers,” remarked Mrs. Morrow, +suddenly remembering what Nathalie had said +the child was doing when she was last seen. +</p> +<p> +“But where would she be apt to go?” inquired Nathalie, +who had returned in time to hear Mrs. Morrow’s +remark. +</p> +<p> +“Why, to the woods!” retorted Helen quickly, and +her eyes lighted in sudden thought as they dwelt on a +green belt of woodland that loomed against the sky +on the opposite side of the road. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you think she might have strayed down the +hill?” questioned Nathalie, pointing to a pond shimmering +in the sun at the bottom of a knoll near-by. +“Poor Mammy is quite sure she is drowned and lies +at the bottom of the pond.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’ll tell you what we can do,” spoke up +Lillie, “I’ll take my squad and search down by the +pond, and Helen and the rest of you can go over to +the woods; somehow I’m with Mammy, for all children +love to paddle in the water.” +</p> +<p> +Lillie’s suggestion was a timely one, and as she, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +Grace, Jessie, and a few Orioles disappeared over the +slope of the hill, Helen and Nathalie, as the advance +guard, hurried across the road and into the cool recesses +of the woods. As they hastened onward every +girl’s eyes were alert, watchfully peering behind every +bush and tree as they stumbled over gnarled roots and +broken stumps in their efforts to reach some shaded +nook, or lichen-covered rock dimly seen in the shadows +of the trees. +</p> +<p> +Helen proved an efficient leader and did not hesitate +to keep her followers busy, as she sent first one and +then the other to look here or there, determined not to +miss a nook or spot where the child might be hidden. +Every now and then some of the party would give a +bird call, or Helen’s whistle would reverberate sharply +through the swaying pines. +</p> +<p> +But Mrs. Morrow, whose strength began to waver, +finally suggested to Nathalie and Edith, who had been +acting as her body-guard, that they rest for a few +minutes. Spying a decayed tree-trunk that had fallen +across the damp, spongy earth a few feet away, they +seated themselves upon it. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I’m really tired!” exclaimed Mrs. Morrow, +for she had proved as indefatigable as the girls in +searching, thinking, she declared, of her own two +kiddies safe in the garden at home. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, impressed by the solemn stillness about +her, slowly fanned herself with her hat, while Edith +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span> +made frantic dabs at her red face, from which beady +drops were oozing. “Oh, I should just love to stay +here all day,” she cried, sniffing the air, redolent with +the odors of pine, spicy balsam, silver birch, and many +other trees that loomed darkly in the mysterious retreats +of the forest. +</p> +<p> +“Hark!” cried Mrs. Morrow, suddenly putting up +her hand for silence as she peered up at the green +boughs above her. “Taweel-ab, taweel-ab, twil-ab, +twil-ab!” came in a succession of weird, sweet trills. +</p> +<p> +“Wheew, whoit, wheew, whoit!” imitated the Sport +with quick readiness. +</p> +<p> +“It is a hermit thrush!” explained Mrs. Morrow +softly, and her hand clutched Nathalie’s as she pointed +to a brown bird that was scudding swiftly over the +fern a few feet away. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, isn’t it a dear?” whispered delighted Nathalie, +for to her this coming, as she called it, into the very +heart of nature was a new experience. She half regretted +at times that they had been compelled to forego +the bird-hike, as she was so anxious to get in touch +with the feathered songsters of the wood and field. +Then, too, suppose the searching-party should fail of +its purpose, she would feel that she had been the means +of leading them on a wild-goose chase! +</p> +<p> +As her eyes roamed here and there in the hope that +she might see the brown thrush again, she started, +stared a moment, and then springing to her feet dashed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +across to the clump of ferns where the bird had been +flying. +</p> +<p> +“I have found a clew!” she cried triumphantly a +moment later, as she returned and held up her hand. +Between her thumb and forefinger was a bit of red, +which she was waving gleefully as she came towards +them. As the Sport and Mrs. Morrow hurried to her +side they saw a loop of red ribbon still with the knot +in it by which it had evidently been recently tied to +some object. +</p> +<p> +“It is Rosy’s hair-ribbon!” cried Nathalie. “I +found it clinging to one of the ferns.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, are you sure?” burst from Mrs. Morrow, her +eyes eager with hope as she bent over the little scarlet +knot. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed I am sure,” answered the delighted girl, +“for it is the very ribbon I found in my work basket +and tied on Rosy’s funny little topknot the day she was +at our house. See, here is the very cut in the edge—that +is the reason it was of no use to me—but Rosy +was as happy as a lark over it. Oh, isn’t this too +lovely, for now I know the child is somewhere near!” +</p> +<p> +With renewed hope they set forth again on the hunt, +Nathalie running ahead and calling “Tru-al-lee!” as +loud as she could—it was the only bird call she knew—to +get in touch with the advance guard and tell them +the good news. +</p> +<p> +In answer to her Blue Robin call, in a few moments +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +a Bob White whistle was heard, rather faint, but there +was no mistake as to that quick, clear note. The Sport, +a few yards behind, immediately responded by giving +a similar call, and then as they stood waiting to ascertain +from what direction the whistle had come, there +sounded a sudden, sharp snap of the underbrush near, +and Kitty Corwin’s face emerged into view. “Hurrah, +girls!” she shouted jubilantly, “we have found +her!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, where? Where?” came in an instant from +three throats as Kitty leaned against a tree and panted. +</p> +<p> +“Down in a ravine, huddled close against a rock, +asleep. Helen did not want to waken her until Nathalie +came, for fear she would be frightened at the +strange faces. Come on, quick!” she exclaimed excitedly, +turning and darting back the way she had come +with light, fleet steps. +</p> +<p> +But the belated ones needed no urging, especially +Nathalie, who dashed ahead without regard to time +or place, with a haste that left no doubt as to her joy +that her searching party had been a success. Overhanging +branches and dried twigs that blocked her way +were ruthlessly brushed aside, or run against, scratching +and bruising her unmercifully as she discovered +later, but it made no difference to the happy girl. +</p> +<p> +It seemed but a moment when she emerged into a +clearing, and close at the heels of Kitty climbed down +into a small ravine. It had evidently been at one time +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +the road-bed of a brook, but was now filled with scraggy +stones, dried underbrush, and fallen logs. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie saw the little motionless figure cuddled +in a heap against the rock, her heart leaped with misgiving. +“Oh, is she dead?” she asked Helen, who +stood guard by the side of the rock, every now and +then brushing away a gnat or a fly that descended with +a loud buzz on the smeared black face, which lay partly +exposed to view as it rested on a mite of an arm. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no,” assured Helen, “she is all right, only +asleep. I suppose she wandered about for some time +in the darkness and was tired out, poor little tot!” +</p> +<p> +The little one looked so pathetically small as she +lay there, just a heap of bones, black skin, and woolly +hair, with the tears still glistening on the black lashes, +that Nathalie’s heart was stirred with pity. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow now came forward and quickly felt +her pulse, crying as she did so, “Oh, you poor little +black baby! Yes, she is all right!” she nodded assuringly, +“but Helen, what is the matter with her leg?” +Her sharp glance noted that it lay rather limply on +the ground. +</p> +<p> +“I am not sure,” said Helen with bent brows as she +touched it softly, “but I am afraid it is broken. That +is why I waited for you and Nathalie, I did not like to +move her for fear of hurting her.” +</p> +<p> +“But we shall have to,” returned Mrs. Morrow as +she finished examining the injured limb, “for it is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +broken, and we must get her home as soon as possible, +for it will have to be set.” +</p> +<p> +As Helen and Mrs. Morrow attempted to take hold +of the child to lift her on the stretcher the girls had +made, she opened her eyes wide into the strange +faces bending over her. Then she closed them quickly, +and as the little black face wrinkled in fear she let +forth such a howl of absolute despair that the girls +were all on the verge of joining with her in their keen +sympathy. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Rosy,” cried Nathalie springing hastily forward +and taking the child’s hand softly in hers, “see, +it is Mrs. Page’s little girl. Don’t you remember when +you called me that—Mrs. Page’s little girl?” She +repeated softly as she saw the child had stopped her +crying and was staring up at her. But the black eyes +closed again and the little form shivered as a prolonged +howl answered the questioner. +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie, who loved children, lifted up the little +head with its pigtails and laid it against her breast as +she tried again. “There dearie, don’t you want to go +in the choo-choo cars to see Mamma?” +</p> +<p> +These words had the desired effect, and the howl +was arrested as two big black eyes stared with awakening +interest while Nathalie caught hold of the stretcher +and choo-chooed it back and forth. “Come, Rosy!” +she cried in a third attempt, “and we will go in the +choo-choo cars to see Mamma, and—oh, yes, the little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span> +rag-dollie I made for you, don’t you remember what +a lovely time we had?” +</p> +<p> +The black eyes opened wide, stood still for a wee +second, and then twinkled into a smile as their owner +cried, “Oh, yes, I knows youse; youse de Story +Lady!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I’m the Story Lady,” quickly answered Nathalie, +her face breaking into a smile; then as Rosy +smiled back, “but how did you get here, Rosebud, so +far away from home?” +</p> +<p> +The little face screwed into a knot as she whimpered, +“Oh, I got lost, Story Lady. I picked daisies in de +lot, and den Jacob he showed me de blue flowers he +got in de wood. So I runned to de wood, and oh, I got +a lot!” Her eyes gleamed with joy as she held up a +few withered violets still clutched in her tiny hand. +“And den it grew all dark,” she moaned, “and I +couldn’t fin’ de road, and I fell and hurt my leg. Oh, +I’se so hungry!” she ended piteously. +</p> +<p> +But when she saw so many eyes watching her, she +covered her tiny face with her hand, shyly peeping out +from between her fingers. +</p> +<p> +The girls all laughed merrily at her coquettishness, +but their laughter became almost a howl as the little +black eyes began to play peek-a-boo at them, and then +danced in unison with their laughter, as if enjoying +the sensation she had created. +</p> +<p> +But time was precious, and so with the promise of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +candy and a story from Nathalie the little one was +lifted from the ground and carefully placed in the +stretcher, and the Pioneer search party, weary, and +warm, but jubilantly happy at their success, started for +home. +</p> +<p> +“Some one of you girls ought to run ahead and get +the doctor!” exclaimed Mrs. Morrow as the rescuers +plodded carefully but slowly up the ravine with their +burden, “for the child needs attention at once. I don’t +wonder she cries!” For, alas! the little one had begun +to whimper softly, although Nathalie was still +playing choo-choo car as hard as she could, so as to +divert her mind from the pain and hunger pangs that +had now begun to assert themselves more forcibly. +</p> +<p> +“I will go!” cried Edith quickly, and then at a +nod of assent from their Director she disappeared in +the shadowy gloom of the trees like a small whirlwind. +Barbara and Kitty were then despatched to hurry and +tell Rosebud’s mother that the lost was found. +</p> +<p> +As they reached the edge of the woods, Mrs. Morrow +thought she heard the throb of an automobile engine, +and as it was followed in a moment by the toot +of a horn, she begged Nathalie to hurry to the road, +just a few feet beyond in the opening. “It sounds +like the doctor’s car—perhaps he will take little Rosy +home—for, O dear, she is suffering so!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie softly unfastened the little hands that were +clinging to hers, and with a few bounds reached the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +road where, sure enough, she saw a few yards ahead +an automobile that had just passed. +</p> +<p> +Yes, it was the doctor! Nathalie thought she recognized +his car, and with mad haste tore after it, shouting +to the full extent of her lungs, “Doctor! Doctor!” +</p> +<p> +The occupant of the car, who evidently was not +driving at a very high rate of speed, heard her shouts +and in a moment brought his car to a standstill. As +he turned about and stared at the oncoming figure +of Nathalie, who, red-faced and bedraggled was speeding +towards him, he looked slightly surprised. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Doctor,” began the girl. She paused, for the +gentleman who was looking at her with such a puzzled +expression, coupled with slight indignation at being +stopped in this way, was a strange young man! +</p> +<p> +Nathalie halted abruptly as she discovered her error, +feeling as if her face would burst from the heat of her +unwonted exercise and the fact that she had been tagging +in this tomboy style, after a strange man. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—I’m so sorry,” she panted apologetically, +“but Mrs. Morrow thought she heard an automobile, +she was sure it was the doctor—” +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Morrow!” exclaimed the young man, “why, +is she anywhere about?” He jumped from his car +as he spoke and came towards her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes,” cried the girl, with a gleam of hope that +if this young man knew their Director there was a +chance for Rosy. “We have been looking for a little +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +colored girl who was lost—oh, I mean the Pioneers—we +have been searching in the woods,” she explained +confusedly, the blood surging furiously into her cheeks +under the keen gray eyes that were looking so searchingly +down at her. “Oh, can’t you help us?” she +burst off appealingly. “Mrs. Morrow wants to get +her home as soon as she can, for she has a broken leg.” +</p> +<p> +“A broken leg?” echoed the young man, “why, of +course I will help you,” he continued heartily. “Where +is Mrs. Morrow? And—oh, I see—” the gray eyes +gleamed pleasantly, “you are Blue Robin, the little +girl who lives across the way from us. I am Mrs. +Morrow’s brother, Jack Homer!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span><a name='chX' id='chX'></a>CHAPTER X—NATHALIE AS THE STORY LADY</h2> +<p> +Nathalie’s color flamed again as she heard +that “little girl,” and she drew herself up in +momentary indignation. Oh, this was evidently +the Dr. Homer whom she had heard the girls +talk so much about, and who had been giving them +lessons in First Aid to the Injured. But who could +have told him she was a little girl? +</p> +<p> +This affront to her dignity was forgotten, however, +as she quickly remembered the need of getting little +Rosy home. “Mrs. Morrow is in the woods—oh, +there she is now!” she cried hastily, as she pointed to +the Director, who, with the Pioneers and their burden, +had halted on the edge of the woods and stood waiting +for her. As Mrs. Morrow perceived her brother she +quickly beckoned to him. +</p> +<p> +A few steps, and Dr. Homer was at his sister’s side, +listening to her hurried recital of the preceding events +and her anxiously expressed wish that Rosy could be +seen to as soon as possible. +</p> +<p> +“Why, if it isn’t little Rosebud!” said the doctor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +jovially as he turned from his sister and looked down +at the helpless mite of humanity, lying so patient and +still in the stretcher. +</p> +<p> +The child smiled shyly, and Nathalie, perceiving that +he knew her, gave a sigh of relief, for she felt that +now everything would soon be all right. +</p> +<p> +It did not take the doctor long to lift Rosy tenderly +into the car and to make her comfortable with her +little black head on Mrs. Morrow’s lap. As he was +about to jump in himself an “I want my Story Lady! +I want my Story Lady!” came in a loud wail from +the little patient, for Rosy’s face had knotted up again +as she pushed away Mrs. Morrow’s detaining hand and +tried to lift her head in search of Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie hastened to the side of the car crying, “Oh, +Rosy, it’s all right. I’m going home to your mamma. +I will be there almost as soon as you—” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Nathalie, get in with us,” exclaimed Mrs. +Morrow, “there is room on the front seat with the +doctor. Oh, I beg your pardon, Nathalie, perhaps you +have not met my brother. Jack, this is Miss Page, our +new Pioneer, and oh, Jack; if it had not been for her +I don’t know when poor little Rosy would have been +found!” +</p> +<p> +“I am most pleased to meet you, Miss Page,” smiled +the doctor with undue emphasis on the Miss. Then, +as he noted Nathalie’s stiff little bow, he continued +apologetically, with a humorous twinkle in his eye, “I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +have heard so much about Blue Robin, that somehow +I thought she was a little girl.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie smiled pleasantly, instantly recognizing +that this frank-eyed young man was doing his best to +atone for his mistake of a few minutes ago. But she +must not keep him waiting, and a moment later she +sprang into the car. Although it was but a short ride +to Felia’s house, there was time enough for the doctor +to chat pleasantly with the young girl, so by the time +they had reached their destination Nathalie understood +why Dr. Homer was such a favorite with the Pioneers. +</p> +<p> +Fortunately, Edith had caught Dr. Morrow just as +he was about to set out to call on a patient, so he soon +arrived. In a short time he and Dr. Homer had set +the broken limb and made the child comfortable, who, +with a smile of content, received a bowl of bread and +milk from Mammy, whose black face was wreathed in +smiles again as she saw that the little one was not lying +down at the bottom of the pond. +</p> +<p> +A half-hour later a group of girls straggled wearily +along the main street of the village, animatedly discussing +first one and then another detail of the morning’s +hunt. As they were all tired, it was unanimously +decided to postpone the bird hike to another day. +</p> +<p> +When this decision was reached, Nathalie’s bright +face clouded as she exclaimed contritely, “Oh, girls, +I’m awfully sorry I broke up the hike, but I was so +anxious to find Rosy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well, I for one am glad we gave it up,” asserted +Kitty Corwin, “for girls, it paid for the disappointment +to see that poor mother’s joy when she saw her +child.” +</p> +<p> +“And the old black mammy—huh—she is a regular +plantation coon,” chimed in Edith; “did you hear +her shout ‘Praise de Lord! Hallelujah!’? Oh, but +how her eyes did shine!” +</p> +<p> +“She was a black sunbeam, all right,” observed +Helen, “and it’s all owing to Nathalie!” putting her +arm about her friend and giving her an enthusiastic +squeeze; “she ought to have a white star.” +</p> +<p> +“A white star,” ejaculated Nathalie, “what does +that mean?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, it means that you should receive a badge of +merit, but as a Pioneer can’t receive a badge until she +is a first-class member, Mrs. Morrow gives white stars +instead to the girls who deserve badges but are not yet +old enough to receive them,” explained Helen. “We +keep our stars and then sew them on a big United +States flag we are making for our new Pioneer room.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I should be pleased to have one!” cried Nathalie, +“but it gives me more pleasure to know that +you do not think I spoiled your fun, and have been so +nice about it. I should just hate to have you think +me officious!” +</p> +<p> +“But we didn’t think that, Nathalie,” assured Lillie +quickly. “In fact, I guess we just didn’t think at all, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +we were so intent on having our own selfish ways. We +are all friends of yours, and as Pioneers and personally,” +she spoke warmly, “we are glad you won the +victory over our naughty, wicked selves.” +</p> +<p> +Several days later, Nathalie, who was still the maid +of all work, stood washing the breakfast dishes. +Somehow, helping Mother seemed to have lost its +charm. She felt as if she and Miss I Can were not +as good friends as they were at the beginning of her +kitchen campaign. O dear, she did wish Rosy would +get better so Felia could come back. She sighed +heavily, and then hastily wiped away a stray tear that +was meandering down her cheek—she had heard a +step on the back stoop. +</p> +<p> +“Hello, Blue Robin!” was Helen’s cheery greeting +as she entered,—she usually came in by the back door +in the morning—then she stopped, for Nathalie’s +usually smiling face wore such a look of woe that she +exclaimed anxiously, “Oh, Nathalie, what is the +matter?” +</p> +<p> +But her only answer was a stifled sob as the girl +flung herself into a chair by the kitchen table, and dropping +her head on her elbow gave way to the pent up +flood that had been gathering for the last few days. +Helen stood a moment, uncertain what to say or do, +dreading that some great calamity had overtaken the +family. Then she stepped to her friend’s side and +lifting her head encircled her with her arm caressingly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +“Now,” she cried, softly patting the brown head, “tell +friend Helen all about it.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s tears flowed unrestrainedly for a moment +and then, feeling somewhat better for the overflow, +and a little ashamed of useless tears as she always called +them, she withdrew from the friendly shelter and sat +up. “Oh, it’s just nothing at all, Helen,” she cried +in a choked voice, “only that I’m a great baby—and +then—I’m tired”—her voice quavered. “I’m tired +of washing dishes and sweeping—” a sniffle—“all the +time.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course you are tired, who wouldn’t be, Nat, +with all the wonderful things you’ve done this last +week?” sympathized Helen; “considering, too, that +it’s all new to you. Why, Mother says you are going +to make a splendid Pioneer.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, did she?” asked Nathalie, her eyes brightening. +“It makes one feel good to be praised, I have +felt so discouraged,” with an intake of her breath, +“for I’ve tried so hard to do everything I could, and +then Mother, why she hasn’t said one word of praise +since the first day. Everybody just takes it all—all +the work I do—just as if it was nothing, and things +drag so. Of course I don’t expect to be praised all the +time,” she hastened to add, “but oh, I don’t seem to +feel as happy about working as I did at first.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well, you’re tired,” replied Helen condolingly. +“I know just how you feel, for I used to feel the same +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +way when I first began to help Mother around the +house. You see the enthusiasm and the glory have all +gone out of it.” +</p> +<p> +“The enthusiasm and the glory?” repeated Nathalie +in puzzled inquiry. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, the novelty of doing something new is the +enthusiasm that put you on the job; and the praise you +got for doing it—which made you feel as if you were +awfully good—that’s the glory. But when things +get stale and people stop saying how smart you are +and so on, why then it will be just plain duty all +through. You know, the frosting always comes first +before we get to the cake.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I suppose that has something to do with it,” +responded Nathalie alertly, “when one comes to think +of it. So from now on it will be just plain duty, won’t +it?” with a quiver of her chin, for somehow the prospect +was not an enjoyable one at that moment. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, that’s about the size of it,” was the practical +answer. “But if you keep right on doing what you +ought to, you’ll get something better than the sugary +stuff. Just keep Miss I Can for your friend, and then +after a time you will find that you like to do the very +things that at first seemed so hard. Experience, +Mother says, brings knowledge, and knowledge puts +you in the end where you want to be.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish it would,” exclaimed Nathalie, her eyes +flashing with sudden hope, “for oh, Helen, I do so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +want to know things, that is the useful arts, for I am +so eager to learn how to make money the way you are +doing! You know I have told you all about Dick, +Helen,” she lowered her voice, “I think it is just that, +seeing the poor fellow striving to earn a little money +so he can be made well again, that makes me so down-hearted, +for I feel that I am not doing a thing to help +him.” +</p> +<p> +“But you are helping him, and your mother, too, +Nathalie,” said Helen. “By the very work you are +doing you are helping your mother to save money, +that ought to be something to comfort you.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but it’s mean kind of work,” emphasized Nathalie, +“and then, too, it’s only saving a mite; and it +will take so much money for Dick’s operation.” +</p> +<p> +“Now, see here, Nathalie,” exclaimed her friend, +“let’s figure this thing out.” Taking a pencil and pad +that always hung by the table with Nathalie’s list of +edibles to be served at each meal, she drew a chair up +to the table and began to figure just how much Nathalie +was saving her mother by doing the work herself. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie bent over her shoulder and watched eagerly +as she saw the line of figures jotted down by Helen. +Then she, too, put on her thinking-cap and in a few +minutes the two girls had figured out quite a sum +that Nathalie was actually saving in dollars and cents +each week she did the work. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie realized this fact, demonstrated so +clearly by her friend, her eyes sparkled, and clapping +her hands she cried, “Oh, Helen, I’m going to get +Mother to let me do the work all the time—of course, +as you say, the washing will have to be done out—but +oh, I shall feel—” +</p> +<p> +“Now, Nathalie, don’t go off at a tangent; stop and +consider before you make this suggestion to your +mother. You must think just what it will cost you, +that is, count what it will mean to suffer aches in your +back and feet, to have fire-scorched cheeks,—they say +cooking ruins the complexion,—red, sloppy hands, and +all the rest of the penalties imposed on one for doing +housework. If you put your hand to the plow, you +know, once started you can’t look back.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, I know, Helen, it will be terrible to have +to do these things, but if it will help me to earn money, +even the teeniest bit, now that I know that it is to be +done without the glory perhaps it won’t be so hard. +Oh, I know Miss I Can will help me!” Nathalie smiled +through the mist that would blur her eyes, “for I must +help Dick.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” returned her friend, “if you feel that way, +determined to help Dick, go ahead; for that will serve +as the glory, that is, the incentive will help you through +lots of hard things.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie looked up at her friend’s grave face with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +wonder-lit eyes. “Oh, Helen,” she said solemnly, “do +you know you are going to be a great woman? You +are awfully wise for a girl of your age!” +</p> +<p> +Helen interrupted her with a merry laugh. “Oh, +no, I’m not going to be a great woman at all. I +should love to be—that is my ambition,—but one’s +ambitions are not apt to materialize the way one expects +them to, you know. But I’ll tell you, Nathalie,” +her face sobered, “I have a very wise mother—she +tells me these things. And then as I go about I find +from experience that what she has said comes true.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Helen, you will be great,” nodded Nathalie +sagely. “Perhaps you will not go about blowing a +trumpet to let people know you are one of the world’s +great ones, but you will be all the same, even if you +never do a thing but live in this sleepy town and become +a stenographer.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, it looks that way,” laughed Helen, “from +the pile of typing that awaits me. Yes, I am, as you +say, in a fair way to become a stenographer, but Ye +Stars! if I do not become an expert one, I’ll—well +I’ll go hang myself, as the boys say, for I must +succeed!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, are you really going, friend comforter?” +laughed Nathalie, as Helen rose to go. “Yes, you are +that, for you have given me lots of comfort this morning; +you put new life in me when the cause was almost +lost. On the strength of your calculations I’m going +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +to lay my plans before Mother, and then I’m going to +get some books and trinkets and go to see Rosy.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, how is she?” inquired Helen interestedly. +“I was thinking about her the other day.” +</p> +<p> +“She is getting along nicely, but it is awfully hard +for the little thing to lie there most of the time alone. +I was down to see her yesterday and told her some +stories, and I promised to come again to-day.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish I could help you! But see here, Nathalie, +speak to Grace and Lillie about the story-telling; perhaps +they will help you at that. Grace is a lady with +plenty of leisure to waste, and Lillie Bell dotes on +yarns.” +</p> +<p> +“I did ask Lillie, but she said she was no good telling +stories to children, and Grace—why, she said she +was busy getting her clothes ready for the summer.” +</p> +<p> +“There’s Kitty. Ah, I expect to see her this afternoon. +I’ll ask her to lend you a hand, but I must go, +so good-by and good luck to you, Story Lady!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mother, you are just a dear!” cried Nathalie +a little later, as she was about to set forth to see Rosy. +Her mother had come down from the attic with a +couple of old picture-books, and handed them to her +to give to the little invalid. +</p> +<p> +“Gloriana! won’t they make her eyes shine!” exclaimed +Nathalie as she tucked them under her arm, +picked up the basket of goodies she had prepared, and +hurried down the walk. As she knocked at the door +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +of the gray shanty she heard Rosy whimpering softly. +“Poor kiddie,” she thought, with a wave of pity. Receiving +no answer she pushed open the door, which +was partly ajar, and entered. On the bed lay the little +form with its head buried in a pillow, emitting a series +of feeble whines. +</p> +<p> +“Good morning!” said the smiling visitor as she +touched the half-buried shoulder. +</p> +<p> +At the sound of her voice the child’s woolly head +rolled over, and a smile of welcome radiated her tear-stained +face. +</p> +<p> +“How is it that you are all alone?” asked Nathalie, +taking out an orange from the basket; “where are +Mother and Mammy?” +</p> +<p> +“Mamma went to de town, and Mammy—she’s +doin’ de wash,” and then her eyes expanded with joy +as she spied the orange. +</p> +<p> +The orange was soon demolished, and then, as Nathalie +started to show her the two picture-books, she +realized that Miss I Can confronted her again, for a +sticky mouth and hands revealed the fact that she had +an unpleasant task to perform. For a moment she +hesitated, but quickly overcoming her disinclination, +she plunged in, got a basin of water, and finding no +wash-cloth, dipped her own dainty handkerchief in it, +and amid sundry squeals and protests gave the little +face and hands a good scrubbing. +</p> +<p> +This performed, the picture-books were brought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +forth and she was soon busy explaining the pictures to +the pleased little girl. But this diversion she soon tired +of and then came the cry, “Oh, Story Lady, won’t yo’ +please tell me er story?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, I don’t think I know any now—” Nathalie +had meant to look up a fairy book so as to be prepared, +but the pleading look in the black eyes upturned to hers +won its way and she said, “All right, I’ll see what I +know? How would ‘The Babes in the Woods’ do?” +</p> +<p> +As this title was mentioned, a cry of protest came +from the child, “No, I don’t want to hear about de +woods. I’se afraid of de woods.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course you don’t, you poor little chickie,” answered +Nathalie contritely, and then her face lightened +up as a streak of sunshine at that moment glancing in +the window proved an inspiration. So she began to +tell about Sunshine Polly, who had been told that if she +could get some sunshine in her heart she would always +be happy, and how she forthwith set out for this golden +country, and after many adventures found it. Indeed +it proved to be a most beautiful place, with a king, very +round and bright, and a lot of sunshine fairies flying +all about throwing some of their sunny treasure into +the eyes of every one they saw. +</p> +<p> +By the bright eyes watching her, Nathalie knew +that she had made a good selection this time, and the +story progressed. She told how Polly got the sunbeams, +with a breathing spell every now and then to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +think up some more, and the cries, “Oh, dat’s a lubly +story! Oh, I likes dat story!” But at last Polly +returned from the land of sunshine with a crown of +sunbeams on her head and a big bundle of it in her +heart. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie smiled as she finished, for it seemed as if +she too, had been to the sunshine land and had put +some of it into Rosy’s little heart. “Ah, now I will +get a chance to slip away,” she thought, picking up her +basket as a prelude to her departure. +</p> +<p> +But Rosy, surmising by her movement that she contemplated +leaving, began to wail plaintively, begging +her so hard to tell just one more “lubly story.” As +Nathalie stood, trying her best to think of another +story, she heard a slight noise, and looked up to see +three little black faces with big shiny eyes staring at +her from over the ledge of the window. +</p> +<p> +The girl broke into a merry laugh, for really it was +funny to see those three round faces—like a row of +flower-pot saucers on a shelf. “Why, how did you +get there?” she cried and then again burst into laughter. +The laughter proved contagious, for the three +little pickaninnies immediately joined in her merriment, +and then, evidently thinking this was an invitation +to come in, one after the other slid over the sill +and trotted up to the bed, to the great delight of Rosy. +Here they climbed up, sitting on the edge with their +naked black feet hanging down, looking for all the +world like monkeys’ claws as they swung them to and +fro, anxiously waiting for the story to begin. +</p> +<div><a name='illus-172' id='illus-172'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i005' id='i005'></a> +<img src="images/illus-172.jpg" alt="“Why, how did you get there?”" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“Why, how did you get there?”</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span></div> +<p> +“Oh, what shall I tell them?” worried Nathalie, but +in a flash she remembered, and was soon in the mysteries +of that beloved of all fairy tales, “Jack and the +Bean Stalk.” The interested glow in four pairs of +eyes was inspiring, and amply repaid her for the time +that she had so reluctantly given the little hearers. +</p> +<p> +The tale was soon ended, and again Nathalie sprang +to her feet, feeling that now she must go, for there was +that dessert she had to make for dinner. She gathered +up her basket and had just turned to say good-by to +her audience of four, when she saw Dr. Morrow, who +was standing by the door, smiling down at her with +his kindly eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, were you there all the time?” she asked in +dismay. The doctor nodded as he said, “Yes, Blue +Robin, I have enjoyed your story very much. You +had such an appreciative audience,” smiling at the little +black faces, “that I was reluctant to disturb their bliss. +Our little friend Rosy has well named you, ‘The Story +Lady.’” +</p> +<p> +He turned towards his patient, and then with a +kindly word for each of her little friends, he began to +inquire as to how Rosy was. As Felia at this moment +entered the room, Nathalie waved a good-by to Rosy, +and surrounded by the three pickaninnies, each one +eager to carry her basket, hurried out of the room and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +into the sunshine she had been telling about. The +many comments made by her body-guard of three, +showed how eager they were for the joys of story-land—a +rare treat to them. Realizing how much can be +taught a child through story-telling, as she had found +when she was a child, Nathalie fell to thinking. By +the time she reached home she had planned a story club—oh, +it would be just the thing—if the Pioneers +would agree to it. They could take turns, only an +hour once or twice a week, in telling stories to these +new friends of hers, and who knows, if the class grew +they might eventually do a great deal of good? Still +somewhat timid of taking the initiative, she planned to +lay it before Helen and let the suggestion come from +her. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie was trilling softly to herself little snatches +of song, for somehow on that bright June day she felt +very happy. She had started, as she told Helen, on a +new career. Of course her mother had objected at +first to her taking Felia’s place, but when she found +that Nathalie was determined, she had consented, feeling +that perhaps it would not harm her for a while. +And then, too, she would learn many things she needed +to know, and this was her opportunity to learn them. +So Nathalie had won her consent, and with the help +of Dorothy, who had been pressed into service, and +the few things she allowed her mother to do, she had +found her work slip along more easily than she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +anticipated, and the thought that she was earning a +mite towards a great object, as Helen said, had proved +the glory. +</p> +<p> +And so she sang away, doing the week’s stint of +darning, as the stocking drill at the Pilgrim Rally had +helped her wonderfully, and now she was quite assured +that her mother did not have to do her work +over. +</p> +<p> +As she glanced up from her work to watch a tiny +humming bird that was flitting among the leaves of the +honeysuckle trellis, she heard the throb of an engine, +and looked up to see Dr. Morrow’s car coming up the +road. To her surprise, instead of running his car in +through his gate to the garage, he brought it to a +standstill in front of their house, alighted, and a moment +later was coming briskly up the path. +</p> +<p> +His cheery greeting broke in upon her surprise as +he cried, “Well, Blue Robin, so you are at home!” +O dear! every one seemed to be calling her that nowadays, +the girl thought a little ruefully. +</p> +<p> +“Good morning,” she cried; then her face paled +apprehensively. “Oh, have you come about Dick—do +you think his knee is worse?” she faltered, suddenly +remembering that her brother had complained +quite a little the last three days with the pain in his +knee. +</p> +<p> +“No, I have not come about Dick,” was the reassuring +answer. “I have come to see you on important +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +business. Dick is doing as well as can be until he is +operated on.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie sighed, and then said, “Oh, Doctor, I do +wish you would explain to me about Dick’s operation! +Mother told me a little, but you see I don’t know much +about these things.” +</p> +<p> +The doctor raised his eyebrows in pretended surprise +and then he said in a serious tone, “I should say +not. Such things as operations are not for little Blue +Robins. They are supposed to trill little tru-al-lee +songs, or tell fairy tales to children, as I hear some of +them have been doing lately.” +</p> +<p> +The girl’s eyes grew bright. “Oh, we are all doing +it. Has Mrs. Morrow told you about the Pioneer +Story Club we have formed? Helen suggested it, in +a way.” Nathalie was modest, for the suggestion had +really come from herself, and also the planning with +the aid of Helen’s wise head. “We go down to the +colored settlement,” she continued, “every Saturday +morning and take turns in telling stories to the little +children. Don’t you think it a fine idea?” She spoke +animatedly. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed I do, but now for the business.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh—but please tell me about the operation first!” +Nathalie was afraid the doctor intended to put her off. +“Tell me, will Dick really be good and strong again +after he has the operation?” +</p> +<p> +The doctor gazed at her a moment with serious eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +and then said slowly, “Yes, Miss Nathalie, I believe +that if your brother could have that operation he would +be just as well as if this unfortunate accident had not +happened.” +</p> +<p> +“But what makes the operation necessary, and what +would you do to him?” she insistently demanded. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I am not going to tell you exactly what we +would do to him. We shall not make hash of him—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Doctor!” exclaimed Nathalie with a shiver. +</p> +<p> +“But we will remove an unhealthy bone in his leg +and replace it with a new one. I saw an infected finger +joint removed the other day and replaced with a joint +taken from one of the patient’s toes.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Doctor Morrow,” cried the distressed girl, +“you are kidding, as the boys say.” +</p> +<p> +The doctor shook his head. “No, some years ago +I might have been indulging in a yarn, but surgery has +made great strides these last few decades, and cripples +nowadays may be restored to health and strength by +transplanting entire bones with their joint surfaces. +This discovery was announced a short time ago by an +eminent surgeon before the Philadelphia Academy of +Surgery. Tests were made on dogs first, and the results +were so satisfactory that the same methods have +since been applied to the human body with like results. +</p> +<p> +“Hitherto bone transplantation had been attended +with great stiffness and lack of power in the members +treated, but now an infected hip joint may be removed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +in the same way, and replaced by healthy bones, and +the functions work properly. But, young lady, I came +here not to deliver a lecture on the transplantation of +bones, but to ask you to do something for me.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span><a name='chXI' id='chXI'></a>CHAPTER XI—THE PRINCESS IN THE TOWER</h2> +<p> +“Do something for you? Oh, Doctor, I should +just love to!” Surprise and pleasure +caused Nathalie’s eyes to light expectantly. +And then, “Do tell me what it is; perhaps it is something +I can’t do!” she said doubtfully. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you can do it all right,” asserted the doctor +confidently. “Remember the old adage, ‘Where +there’s a will, there’s a way.’” His eyes twinkled +humorously as he watched the girl’s face. “But let’s +get at the beginning of things. The other day as I +was hastening to my little African friend, Rosy, I +heard some one talking to her. I stood still, for it +was some one telling the fairy tale of Jack and the +Bean Stalk. +</p> +<p> +“Now when I was a wee laddie,” continued the doctor, +“that fairy tale was the star one to me, so I plead +guilty, I was tempted and listened. And then when I +discovered that the Story Lady, as Rosy says, was a +sometime friend of mine, I found that old tale doubly +interesting. A few days ago, when talking to a patient, +I happened to relate this little incident in connection +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +with something else I was telling, and then my +troubles began.” +</p> +<p> +The doctor pretended dismay. “That lady has a +crippled child who rarely goes out, never meets children +of her own age, but is compelled a good part of +the time to lie on a couch suffering more or less pain. +This little girl was injured in an accident which her +mother, poor creature, believes was her fault.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how dreadfully she must suffer!” burst from +Nathalie involuntarily. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I sometimes think the poor mother suffers +more than the child. Now this mother, from a mistaken +idea, believes it best to keep her child secluded, +thinking that the comments of strangers would hurt +the child’s feelings and cause more suffering. So you +see what a miserable life the little one leads. Well, I +must cut my tale short—” taking out his watch and +glancing at it; “perhaps it was something I said, I +don’t know, but this lady asked me if I thought the +young lady who was so good at story-telling would be +willing to come and amuse her child with stories. You +see I was in for it, but all I could do was to say I +would ask her,” the doctor’s eyes sobered, “for I believe +that this Story Lady girl is not only a worth while +girl—is that the way my wife puts it when she lectures +you?” the doctor’s face had wrinkled into a +smile again, “but that she has one of the kindest hearts +in the world.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Doctor, Mrs. Morrow never lectures,” answered +Nathalie enthusiastically; “she just talks to us +in the sweetest way; we just love to hear her. But, +Doctor, why did you not tell the lady I would be only +too glad to tell her little girl stories, but if she suffers +so much it might tire her.” This was all said in one +breath. +</p> +<p> +“Not so fast, Blue Robin. No, I did not tell her +you would, for I did not know how it would strike +you,” rejoined the doctor gravely. “I only told her +what you could do.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh,” exclaimed his companion; “well then, please +tell her the first time you see her that I shall be delighted +to do all I can for her little girl.” +</p> +<p> +“When I see her—well, I’m going to see her now.” +The doctor looked down at Nathalie keenly. “If you +are willing to give this pleasure suppose you begin +to-day?” +</p> +<p> +“To-day—you mean now—this morning?” exclaimed +surprised Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +The doctor nodded gravely. +</p> +<p> +“Why, well, yes, I suppose I could go this morning.” +Nathalie wrinkled her brows; she was wondering +about dinner. “All right,” she said in a moment, +“I’ll tell Mother and get my hat!” She started for +the door. +</p> +<p> +“Just wait a moment!” commanded the doctor suddenly, +taking Nathalie by the arm and peering down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +into her face with intent eyes. “I forgot something, +for amusing this little girl means that you will have to +promise two things.” +</p> +<p> +“What are they?” asked the girl curiously. +</p> +<p> +“The first one is that you will have to promise—as +a Girl Pioneer—” the doctor’s eyes gleamed again +“not to betray to a living soul that you are telling +stories to this child; there is a reason.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that is easy,” nodded Nathalie; “that is, if +you except Mamma, for I always tell everything to +her.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, we’ll trust Mrs. Page as to secrecy, and the +next thing—this is a big promise, for it will not be so +easy to keep—is that when you go to this lady’s house +you will consent to be blindfolded.” The doctor +looked relieved. +</p> +<p> +“Blindfolded?” repeated puzzled Nathalie. +“Why, do you mean that I will have to have my eyes +covered up so I can’t see?” +</p> +<p> +Dr. Morrow nodded, his keen eyes watching the +girl’s face intently. +</p> +<p> +There was a pause. “Am I to go with you?” inquired +Nathalie. The doctor’s gray head jerked +again. +</p> +<p> +“Why, yes, I’m willing to be blinded—as long as +you’re with me to lead me about—but what a strange +idea!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is a strange idea, and I tried to reason the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +lady out of it. I even refused at first—and again +yesterday—to ask you to do this ridiculous thing, but +after thinking it over I have ventured. You know, +there is the little girl to be considered, and you +will?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course I will!” was the quick reply. “It is a +funny thing to do, makes me think of the heroine of +some detective tale. Blindfolded! Oh, it will be fun, +a real adventure, I do wish I could tell Helen about it, +I know she won’t tell.” +</p> +<p> +“No, not yet,” said the doctor, “just wait and see +what happens. I’ll predict that after you tell one or +two of your exciting tales the blindfold act will be out +of it. Now get your hat.” +</p> +<p> +It was a glorious morning and Nathalie, in a merry +chat with the doctor as they glided down one street and +up another, forgot to wonder where they were going. +But when they suddenly slowed up on a lonely road, +the doctor peered cautiously about and then with a +flourish drew forth a big black handkerchief, she remembered. +She did indeed feel somewhat queer as +the doctor laughingly tied the black cap, as he called it, +over her eyes, and then, after seeing that it was not +pressing too tightly, started his car again. +</p> +<p> +This time the car went so swiftly that Nathalie +caught her breath. O dear, she was beginning to feel +nervous. “It really seems as if you were kidnaping +me!” she cried, with an attempt at merriment. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +</p> +<p> +“So I am,” replied the doctor glumly. Evidently +this blindfolding business was not to his liking. +</p> +<p> +As the car came to a standstill the doctor cried, +“Now, Blue Robin, we are about to perform the first +act in our little drama, so get up your nerve.” +</p> +<p> +“I hope you won’t let me fall!” exclaimed Nathalie +cheerily. “I don’t want to break my nose or anything +just yet.” +</p> +<p> +What a weird feeling it gave her to be led along a +stone walk, then up a few steps guided by her companion’s +strong arm, then evidently into a hall, as Nathalie +surmised by the polished floor covered with +heavy rugs. After being led stumblingly up the stairway—which +she thought would never come to an end—they +crept slowly along for some distance; she could +not tell whether it was a hall or a room, and felt very +trembly as she afterwards told her mother, and she +was brought to a sudden halt by hearing, “Oh, +Mamma, here she is!” +</p> +<p> +The voice did not belong to a small child and Nathalie, +surprised, stood still in embarrassed silence wondering +what was coming next. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Doctor, how kind you are!” cried another +voice. “I had given you up, how obstinate you must +think me!” The voice faltered, and then Nathalie felt +a soft touch on her arm as it continued, “Oh, it was +very kind of you to consent to come and entertain my +daughter, and to be obliged to come this way, too. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +feel guilty; I know how unpleasant it must be to have +something over your eyes.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, don’t worry over that now,” was the doctor’s +terse admonition. “I have complied with your +requests—on second thought, and my young girl +friend has been most kind in agreeing to your wishes, +for the present at least. Later, I hope, you will change +your mind about these blinders.” +</p> +<p> +“Please don’t scold,” cried the voice again, “I know +it is foolish of me. I will lead you to a chair!” the +owner of the voice exclaimed as the girl gropingly put +out her hand as if afraid of falling. Then the same +soft touch led the blinded one across the room. “No, +you are not going to fall; there you are all right now,” +she said, as Nathalie with a sense of relief sank back +in a chair. +</p> +<p> +“Now,” continued the voice, “I am going to be +your eyes and tell you what is before you.” +</p> +<p> +“That will be very nice,” interposed embarrassed +Nathalie, feeling somewhat foolish at having to sit in +this queer way before people. She was at a loss what +to say, but had time to collect herself as the lady went +on talking rapidly. She described the room with its +hangings, the pictures on the wall, told where the doors +and windows were, and—“Oh, here is the couch—” +she hesitated slightly, “and on it is my daughter, her +name is—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mamma, if you don’t want the young lady to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +know my name, tell her I’m the Princess in the +Tower!” exclaimed the same sweet voice that had +called out when Nathalie first entered the room. +</p> +<p> +“That will be just the thing, ‘the Princess in the +Tower,’” laughed the lady lightly. “Now, Princess, +I am going to leave you to entertain Miss—” +</p> +<p> +“Nathalie Page,” interposed the girl quickly, who, +reassured by the laughing tone of the young girl on the +couch, had begun to recover from the awkwardness of +her plight. Somehow the situation appealed to the +girl’s imagination and she began to enjoy it. “Oh, +I ought to be the one in the tower,” she merrily asserted, +“for I feel as if I were a prisoner with this +funny thing over my eyes.” +</p> +<p> +“It is too bad,” cried her companion sympathetically, +“but you know it is a whim of Mamma’s. You see,” +she explained, “I had an accident when I was a child, +and it has made me deformed—” there was a pathetic +note in her voice. “Mamma is so sensitive, she +is afraid that if people see me they will make unkind +remarks.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how could any one be unkind?” exclaimed +horrified Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +“Well, they are sometimes. I used to be sensitive +myself, too, but I’m getting used to it. I tell Mamma +if I don’t mind she ought not to. Yes,” she ended +sadly, “I am indeed a prisoner shut up in these big +gray walls.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span> +</p> +<p> +“How hard it must be!” answered Nathalie. “But +do you never go out?” +</p> +<p> +“Sometimes I go in the garden. I used to drive, +but the people in this town are so curious; they stare +so. I believe they are worse than in the city, where I +suppose people are used to all kinds of strange sights. +But there, I’m doing all the talking, please tell me about +yourself! I’m so glad to know some one who comes +from New York. The doctor told me you were a +New Yorker; he told me, too, that you were very +clever, and that you told stories beautifully.” +</p> +<p> +“Nonsense,” exclaimed Nathalie. “The doctor is a +dear, but he natters me; I am not clever, I wish I were. +I studied hard at school and am ready to enter college +this fall, and as I am only sixteen people think it very +clever for a girl to accomplish, but I don’t see why a +girl can’t do it as well as a boy. But now I’m not +going to have a chance to show people whether I am +really clever or not,” and then she briefly told about +her disappointment in having to give up college. +</p> +<p> +“But what are you going to do if you do not go to +college? Please tell me!” said the princess, as Nathalie +hesitated. “I just love the sound of your +voice!” burst from the girl impulsively. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie laughed at this extravagant praise, wondering +for a moment if the young girl were not making +fun of her. Loath to believe that she could be so +rude, however, she went on and told of her city life, her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +schoolmates, about Dick’s accident, and how they came +to settle in Westport, and then she stopped. She had +been on the verge of telling about the Pioneers when +she recollected that the doctor had said she was to tell +the child stories. “Oh, I must stop talking—I was +to tell you stories—what will your mother think of +me?” +</p> +<p> +“That is all right,” promptly returned the girl, “you +are here to entertain me; that’s what she told the doctor, +and if I would rather have you talk than tell +stories, it will be as I say.” +</p> +<p> +“Are you sure of that?” questioned conscience-stricken +Nathalie. “The doctor told me I was to tell +you stories.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course he did, but because he said a thing +doesn’t make it so; Mamma told him that, I guess, but +you are really to do as I say.” +</p> +<p> +There was a note of decision in the girl’s voice, which +was an intimation that she was used to having her own +way. Nathalie somehow felt awkward and uncertain +as to what course to pursue, and became suddenly +silent, inwardly racking her brains, trying to think of +some story that would please a young girl of about the +age she judged her companion to be. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, aren’t you going to tell me about the Girl +Pioneers?” was the question that suddenly interrupted +Nathalie’s train of thought. +</p> +<p> +“The Girl Pioneers!” echoed Nathalie, wondering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +how her companion came to know about that organization. +</p> +<p> +“I want to tell you a secret,” the princess whispered +at that moment. Nathalie felt a slim hand touch her +with a clinging pressure on the arm. “Do you know +the doctor and I are great friends, we have lots of jolly +talks together. Oh, I just love to hear his step; don’t +tell, but sometimes I make believe I’m suffering terribly +so Mamma will send for him!” +</p> +<p> +“But you shouldn’t do that!” cried Nathalie, rather +shocked at the idea of simulating pain, suddenly remembering +a story she had heard of a young girl who +had finally come to suffer from the very disease she +had feigned. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, what difference does it make as long as it +brings him?” retorted the princess. “You see he +tells me of the outside world, and makes me laugh +when I have pain, for I do have lots of it sometimes. +One day when I was having an awful time with my +back he almost made me forget the pain by telling me +some of the funny things that have happened to the +Boy Scouts and to the Girl Pioneers. +</p> +<p> +“He told me all about you, too, how you sprained +your foot and about your brother Dick, and about your +finding the blue robin’s nest in the old cedar. He +said you were pretty, too. I like pretty people. I +wish you didn’t have that horrible thing on your eyes, +I want to see them. Mother said I would have been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +pretty, too, if I had not had this terrible hump—oh,” +she cried abruptly, “I was not to tell you anything +about myself, for I’m a horrible thing to look at now.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, you can’t be,” exclaimed Nathalie involuntarily, +for by this time the sweet girlish voice and soft +clinging hand had stirred her imagination, and the +pictures presented had made the make-believe princess +a most beautiful creature. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but I am,” persisted the girl in a resigned voice. +“But then, do tell me about the Pioneers!” Then +noting Nathalie’s reluctance, she called out in a high, +shrill voice, “Mamma, come here, I want you!” +</p> +<p> +“What is it, darling?” answered her mother coming +hastily from the adjoining room, where she had +been conversing with the doctor. “What does my +princess want?” remembering the rôle the girl had +assumed. +</p> +<p> +“The princess wants to be obeyed,” answered that +personage imperiously. “Miss Page refuses to talk +about herself or to tell me anything, because she says +you ordered her to tell me only stories.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s face reddened under her black mask, “Oh, +no,” she interposed swiftly, “I did not say it that way. +I said the doctor had asked me to come here and tell +you stories, but then I supposed you were a little girl.” +</p> +<p> +“No, I am not a little girl,” replied the princess, “I +am fourteen.” +</p> +<p> +“Miss Page, if you do not mind I shall be glad if +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +you will do as Ni—as—the princess desires,” said +her mother pleadingly. “She is an invalid, you know, +and, I am afraid, sadly spoiled.” +</p> +<p> +“Very well,” rejoined Nathalie briefly, feeling somewhat +relieved to think she could talk about the Pioneers +and not to have to think up a story. Yet it did seem +strange to ask her to come there and tell stories and +then ask her not to do so. +</p> +<p> +“Now that you have permission, please go right +ahead and tell me everything you know about the +Pioneers!” +</p> +<p> +“That will be delightfully easy, I can assure you,” +exclaimed Nathalie. “Although I am a new Pioneer, +I am beginning to be very enthusiastic. I can’t tell you +much about the hikes for I have never been on a long +hike yet. We were going on a bird hike the other +day—” then she remembered the search party and its +results, and in a few words told about Rosebud and +the morning spent in searching for her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that was just fine of you,” cried the princess +as Nathalie came to the part where the Pioneers had +acted as if they did not want to hunt for the little girl. +“And those girls! I think they were very selfish, but +go on and tell me some more about the Pioneers!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, thus pressed, told of the Pilgrim Rally, +the coming of the Boy Scouts, the Pioneer dance, and +then lastly how she had accepted Miss I Can, the motto +of the organization, as a very dear friend, and how she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +was trying to live up to it. The girl could not account +for the feeling that made her sacrifice her usual reserve +in regard to her inner life, and tell this make-believe +princess about what she was trying to do. In thinking +it over when by herself, she concluded that perhaps it +was the lesson in this little motto that she had intuitively +felt might help the little prisoner in the tower. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I wish you would get up a story club for me!” +exclaimed the blood royal, as Nathalie finally ended her +Pioneer recital by telling about the story club the girls +had formed to tell stories to the little children in the +colored settlement. +</p> +<p> +“Wouldn’t it be just lovely! And they would all +be real live girls, too, not story-book people, for oh, +Miss Page, I get so tired of book folks! I want to +meet just real every-day girls. That is why I coaxed +my mother to get the doctor to have you come here +and tell me stories, but don’t say another word about +telling me stories,” she lowered her voice, “for that +was just a trick to get Mother to consent. When I +want a thing I just keep plaguing her and then she lets +me have my way.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but you ought to tell your mother everything,” +exclaimed her new friend, somewhat repelled by this +frank admission of deceit. “I always tell my mother +everything, why I could not sleep at night if I thought +I had deceived her.” +</p> +<p> +“Everything is fair in love and war, that’s what my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +governess used to say, but she was a horrid thing,” the +princess confessed candidly; “I just hated her. She +had a beau and I used to steal his letters and pretend I +had read them, just for the fun of seeing her get in a +rage. But go on, and tell me more about those girls.” +</p> +<p> +The last word had barely left her lips when a shriek, +shrill and terrifying, rang through the room. Nathalie +jumped up in a spasm of terror, but before she could +ascertain what it was, another one, even shriller and +more prolonged than the first one, as it seemed to the +frightened girl, sounded right in her very ear. Her +heart leaped to her throat, a stifled cry escaped her as +she dropped back in her chair cowering with fear. +Then came another cry, followed by weird, demoniacal +laughter. Nathalie put her hands up to her face determined +to tear off her bandage, for that blood-curdling +shriek, that hideous laugh, she had heard before—and +then she remembered—oh, she was in the house of the +Mystic! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span><a name='chXII' id='chXII'></a>CHAPTER XII—THE WILD FLOWER HIKE</h2> +<p> +“Oh, it’s the crazy man!” came with a flash +into Nathalie’s mind. What should she +do? If she could only take off that horrible +bandage from her eyes! +</p> +<p> +“Oh, don’t be frightened!” exclaimed the princess +with a merry laugh as she saw her companion cower +in her chair. “It’s only Jimmie! Jimmie, stop that +racket!” she continued with a loud clap of her hands. +But Jimmie, whoever he was, only replied with another +agonizing shriek. This time the princess called +angrily, “Mamma, come and make Jimmie stop his +shrieking. Miss Page is awfully frightened!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, as she heard the foregoing explanation, and +realized that it was not an insane person screaming, +gave a hysterical gasp and turned her head in the direction +of the shrieks, but alas! her blinders, like a +black wall, barred her vision. +</p> +<p> +A few hurried steps, a scuffle evidently, accompanied +by the loud flapping of wings, and then a jumble of +French, Spanish, and English, jabbered in defiant rage, +revealed that Jimmie was a cockatoo! +</p> +<div><a name='illus-194' id='illus-194'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i006' id='i006'></a> +<img src="images/illus-194.jpg" alt="“Oh, don’t be frightened!” exclaimed the princess, with a merry laugh." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“Oh, don’t be frightened!” exclaimed<br/>the princess, with a merry laugh.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span></div> +<p> +But Jimmie, determined not to be worsted in his +fight to be heard, with much loudness and clearness +of note now broke into “In the Sweet Bye and Bye.” +This sudden transition from the terrestrial to the celestial +proved too much for Jimmie’s audience, and peals +of laughter rang out, in which Nathalie’s treble and +the doctor’s deeper note mingled with the cockatoo’s +song. Jimmie, thinking he was winning an encore, +started in with “Taffy was a Welshman, Taffy was a +thief—” but this time he was summarily thrust from +the room by an attendant—amid jabbering protests. +</p> +<p> +The doctor now reminded Nathalie that they must +be going, as he had an important case on hand; he had +waited for her, he explained, knowing that she would +be unable to manage alone with her blinders, as he +called the handkerchief. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie rose to go the princess seized her hand, +crying, “No, you shall not go. You have only been +here a few moments!” Notwithstanding her mother’s +admonition that the doctor must not be detained, the +invalid persisted in clutching her new friend’s hand in +a vise-like grip, much to her embarrassment. Finding, +however, that she was not to have her way, the princess +broke forth into a low whimpering. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie stood still, and then feeling ashamed that a +girl of her age should act the part of a child of five, +endeavored to persuade her to let her go, promising to +come again soon. She met with no success, and driven +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +desperate by the command, “Come, Nathalie, we must +go!” she roughly pulled her hand away. Whereupon, +the whimpering cries of the princess degenerated into +shrieks of rage, so prolonged and shrill that Nathalie, +with a thrill of surprise, immediately recognized from +whom Jimmie had learned his shrieks. +</p> +<p> +As the car sped swiftly along in the direction of +home, after the black handkerchief had been relegated +to the doctor’s pocket again, Nathalie suddenly reddened +furiously, looked queer for a moment, and then +burst into stifled laughter, much to the doctor’s amusement, +who was gravely watching her. +</p> +<p> +“Hello!” he cried at length, “what’s up?” after his +companion had made one or two ineffectual efforts to +control her risibility. +</p> +<p> +But at last she sobered, and with the tears still in +her eyes told how she and Grace had been sent by Mrs. +Morrow a short time before—to deliver a letter to +Mrs. Van Vorst, and how when they were waiting in +the reception room they had heard those same terrible +shrieks and frenzied laughter that Jimmie had emitted +that morning, and, thinking that it was an insane person, +they had run for their lives. +</p> +<p> +“O dear,” she gasped hysterically, “what a joke +on Grace and me! To think of our running away +when it was only a cockatoo! Oh, what sillies we +were!” +</p> +<p> +“I agree with you,” returned the doctor so solemnly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +that the girl flushed and looked at him quickly with +shamed eyes, but his humorous twinkle did not agree +with his blunt assurance, so Nathalie’s self-esteem suffered +no wound. +</p> +<p> +“You know where you were then to-day?” questioned +the doctor slowly after a pause. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, at the house of the Mystic!” +</p> +<p> +“The house of the Mystic?” with some astonishment. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that is the name the girls have given Mrs. Van +Vorst because she acts so queerly. She has been very +disagreeable to the Pioneers, they claim, refusing to +let them drill on the lawn in the rear of her house. The +girls say she hates young people, and then she always +dresses so queerly in gray, too. She has shrouded herself +in mystery by shutting herself up in that big gray +house behind those walls. Edith Whiton insists that +there is an insane person in the house and that he chased +her the day of the Pilgrim Rally.” +</p> +<p> +“An insane person! There is no insane person in +the house. That is nonsense, and should not be repeated!” +exclaimed the doctor in an annoyed tone. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I know, but the girls believe Edith, and so +did I until to-day. But Grace and I have never told +a soul what we heard, only Mrs. Morrow. But, oh, +Doctor,” she cried impulsively, “can’t I tell Grace +about the cockatoo? I will tell her not to tell a living +soul,” she ended earnestly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +</p> +<p> +“No,” returned the doctor decidedly, “Miss Grace +is all right, but she might let it out in her sleep. No, +you wait, and some time you girls can have the best +laugh ever, as my kiddies say.” +</p> +<p> +So the story of Nathalie’s visit to the princess in the +tower was buried deep within her heart, although it +came very near being unearthed several times when +she was in the company of Grace or Helen, for really, +it was hard to keep it a secret when it was such a good +joke. +</p> +<p> +Saturday, the day of the wild-flower hike, was warm +and sunshiny, with the balminess of summer in its +gently wafting breezes. Every one present was filled +with the anticipation that they were going to have a +“dandy time.” +</p> +<p> +“Are we all here?” questioned Mrs. Morrow, as +she stood on the veranda steps, craning her neck from +one side to the other in the endeavor to see that her +bird groups were all there. In her natty khaki suit, +with its red-banded sombrero and red tie, she looked +as jaunty and young as the Bluebirds, Bob Whites, and +Orioles, who, with admiring eyes, watched her as they +stood lined up on the path with knapsacks, staffs, and +all the paraphernalia needed for the hike. +</p> +<p> +The several bird calls attested that the band were +all on hand, and then they filed up on the veranda before +their Director as lunch-baskets were opened for +inspection, so that she could see that each one had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +been properly prepared and was in a “relishy condition,” +as Helen explained to Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +In a few moments the inspection was over and the +girls tripped merrily down the walk and out of the gate, +making such a hubbub with the clatter of their tongues +that the doctor, as he came hurriedly up the path, teasingly +put his fingers in his ears in intimation that they +were making undue clamor. +</p> +<p> +The Flower of the Family’s knapsack bulged with a +package of Aunt Jemima’s Pancake Flour, suggestive +of the flapjacks to be, while the Editor-in-chief, with +a reporter-like air, carried a large note-book under her +arm so as to feature the affair in the forthcoming +“Pioneer.” The Encyclopedia was lumbered with two +musty volumes on flower lore, she explained, so as to +be able to give all desired information on the various +specimens that were to be gathered by the hikers. +</p> +<p> +The Pot-Boiler’s knapsack was not only stuffed with +several mysterious-looking packages, but was glaringly +conspicuous, that young lady, true to her name, having +pasted a paper advertisement of an iron pot on its cover. +The Sport carried a few garden implements: a small +shovel, a rake, and a hoe, with which to burrow in the +ground for those specimens that grew in a brook or +in the mossy hollows in the woods. The Tike, as the +privileged fag, carried a basket to fill with wild-flowers +to be distributed to the shut-ins of the town hospital on +their return. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +</p> +<p> +Each Pioneer, besides her lunch-box, carried a self-made +note-book—Nathalie had spent several hours +making hers—with a pencil attached for her flower +specimens, data, and so forth. Nathalie felt a bit +disappointed that she had not been able to buy a uniform, +although Helen had said that it made no difference, +for she noticed to her dismay that she was the +only Pioneer minus that very desirable accessory, dear +to the heart of every hiker. +</p> +<p> +The girls had gone but half a block when a sudden +cry of pleasure rippled through the line. Then, as one +Pioneer, the girls gave their call in welcome to Dr. +Homer, who, as Mrs. Morrow explained, was to take +the place usually occupied by her husband, when the +Pioneers were on a long hike. +</p> +<p> +The doctor responded by giving the Boy Scout salute +as he stood a moment with raised hat. When the girls +filed by, to Nathalie’s surprise he stepped to her side +and asked, as he smiled in recognition, “May I have +the pleasure of hiking with you?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s cheeks bloomed pink at the remembrance +of their last meeting, but her eyes brightened as she +nodded an assent. Perhaps some of the girls felt a +little envious as they saw whom the doctor had selected +for the favor of his company, as he was a great favorite +and had always proved a delightful companion. +But they quickly stifled any feeling that jarred, as each +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +one remembered that she had had her turn, and that +now it was Nathalie’s opportunity to have this pleasure +as the new Pioneer. +</p> +<p> +And Nathalie’s turn added a zest and enjoyment to +her first hike that was long remembered, for through +Dr. Homer’s kindness in imparting to her many stray +bits of knowledge she was able to hide her greenness in +wood-lore, bird-lore, and many of the activities in +which the other Pioneers were so proficient. +</p> +<p> +The Pioneers had barely reached the open when the +Sport and one of the Orioles were despatched by the +Director to blaze a trail. In order to give this advance +corps a chance to get ahead, the rest of the company +rested on the road, sitting down on the grass, or on +some decayed tree trunk, while others practiced wall-scaling, +among them Nathalie and the doctor, the latter +acting as their instructor. +</p> +<p> +This scaling feat meant stepping carefully upon the +ledge of a stone wall that skirted the road, and then +springing down as quickly and lightly as possible, so +as not to dislodge stray stones and bring them rattling +after one. This forerunner of other feats to come led +the doctor to tell how a Scout practiced wall-scaling; +sometimes by standing on the shoulders of another +Scout, and then climbing a high wooden fence, which +was claimed by many to be a more difficult performance +than scaling a stone wall. This, of course, proved an +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +incentive for the girls to do their best, especially Nathalie, +who as a city-bred girl did not want to prove a +laggard. +</p> +<p> +A few minutes later, as they resumed their tramp, +Nathalie’s face grew radiant as she suddenly spied a +tree near with a penknife notch on the bark. “Oh, +girls, here is the trail! Go this way!” she cried excitedly, +pointing as she spoke to the notched sign of a +twig bent at the end, making it look somewhat like the +point of a broken arrow. As she was coming to be a +zealous student of the bent-twig signs, the trail-blazing +system invented for the Pioneers, she explained a number +of these bent-twig signs to the doctor, who was +deeply interested and not only told of the many signs +used by the Scouts, but showed her the trees that were +the easiest to cut. +</p> +<p> +Chatting, laughing, and singing—for the girls vied +with the birds in their joyousness that summer morning—making +bird calls, alternating with notch-making +and flower-gathering made the time pass swiftly. +The new Pioneer was amazed when Dr. Homer pulled +out his watch and looking at his pedometer said that +they had walked four miles, and that in a short time +they would hit the wood trail, where they were to camp +for dinner. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s flower-box was soon full of specimens that +she had gathered from the roadside and the meadow +where her lesson in wall-scaling came in handy. Perhaps +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +this wild flower hunt proved but a small part of +her pleasure, for as she strolled along the doctor proved +most companionable as he coached her in hike knowledge. +</p> +<p> +Never walk over anything you can go around, he had +told her, and never step on anything you can step over, +for every time you step on anything you lift the weight +of your body, which makes more to carry when tramping. +He also made her laugh heartily when he insisted +upon examining the footwear of the hikers, expounding +as he did so upon the foolishness of damsels in general, +who would insist upon wearing shoes either too big or +too small for them. The small shoes, he said, crowded +the feet, and the big ones added extra weight, and made +them road-weary before the tramp was half over. +</p> +<p> +He also told her about the weather signs; a low cloud +moving swiftly indicated coolness; hard-edged clouds, +wind; rolled or jagged clouds, strong wind; and a +mackerel sky, a whole day of fair weather. Nathalie, +perhaps to show this young man with the smiling gray +eyes who looked at you so fearlessly that she, too, +did know just a tiny bit about weather signs, sang +softly: +</p> +<p> + “Hark to the East Wind’s song from the sea,<br /> + Blowing the misty clouds o’er lea;<br /> + Shaking the sheaves of golden grain<br /> + With the patter of the rain;<br /> + Giving the earth a cooling drink,<br /> + Washing the flow’rs a brighter pink.<br /> +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span></div> +<p> + Hark to the West Wind’s song of cheer<br /> + Bringing blue sky and weather clear;<br /> + Driving away the clouds so gray<br /> + Filling the earth with sunlight’s ray;<br /> + Cheering the hearts of those who mourn,<br /> + Filling the dark with golden dawn.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +When the little lecture had ended she had learned +that when a slack rope tightens, when smoke beats +down, when the sun is red in the morning, or when +there is a yellowish or greenish sunset it means rain; +how to tell which way the wind blows by pulling blades +of grass and then letting the wind blow them, or to +suck your thumb and let the wind blow around it, the +cool side telling the tale. +</p> +<p> +To be sure, they were all simple things to learn, but +they were the essentials of life, as the doctor said, who +had a most jolly manner of giving his stray bits of +information, all the while making so much sport, as he +ambled on, that Nathalie was sure she would remember +everything he had told her. +</p> +<p> +When the girls reached the wood with its cool, damp +shade, moss-grown paths, and running brooklet, they +set to work with renewed vigor to hunt for specimens. +The Sport, notwithstanding the fun the girls had made +of her garden implements, found that they were in +great demand. For a time she was the star hiker, as +first one and another pleaded, “Oh, Edith, just let me +have that rake a minute!” or, “Oh, I see the dandiest +little blue flower here in this crevice!” and so on. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +</p> +<p> +When they finally grew tired of flower-hunting they +pushed their way to a level space in the open on the edge +of the woods, where knapsacks, frying-pans, pots, and +all such camping utensils were hastily thrown on the +grass, and the girls hied themselves to the spring to +wash their heated cheeks and rearrange their tangled +tresses. Some, more venturesome than the others, took +off their shoes and stockings and waded in the brook’s +cooling flow, while the older ones, summoned by a +series of bird calls, hurried back to camp to prepare +dinner. +</p> +<p> +To their delight, as the girls returned from the +spring, they found that Dr. Homer had built an Indian +“wickiup,” that is a dome-shaped wigwam, by sticking +in the ground in a circle a number of limber poles. +The ones the doctor had used were willow wands, but +almost any kind of a bough would do, he claimed. He +then showed the girls how he had bent the tops of each +pair of opposites or poles forward until they met. The +ends were then interlocked and tied firmly. Over this +impromptu wigwam—for it had been made with no +tool but his strong penknife—he had thrown a blanket +shawl. +</p> +<p> +The girls were all much interested in the Indian wigwam +for this was the simplest way of making a tent, +and they examined it eagerly. They were especially +interested when the doctor told them that one time when +he had lost his trail up in the Maine woods, he had made +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +a dome-shaped wigwam and had rested in its shelter, +high and dry, during a severe storm. +</p> +<p> +When the novelty of the wigwam had worn off, +every girl declared herself famished for something to +eat, and the dinner committee hustled about picking +up small dry twigs, which were placed in a heap, lightly, +so as to draw the air. These were then covered with +the heavier sticks until the desired height for a campfire +was reached. Several fires were to be started, as +no time was to be wasted in cooking the edibles. +</p> +<p> +When all was in readiness, there was a general call +for Nathalie, who, as the new Pioneer, was to take her +first lesson in lighting a fire with only one match. +Every Pioneer, of course, was eager to show her how to +do this feat, but Mrs. Morrow silenced the clamor by +assigning the task to Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mrs. Morrow—I think—” Nathalie stopped, +a sudden roguish expression flittered over her face, and +then she meekly followed Helen to the wood-pile and +stood silent as she watched that young lady scratch her +match, hold it in the hollow of her hand, and then, with +a soft puff, kneel, and apply it to a twig. +</p> +<p> +The twig was obstinate, however, and Helen’s one +match attempt was a decided failure. The Sport now +offered her services as instructor, but Nathalie, feeling +sorry for Helen, who with a crestfallen air had retired +to the ranks of onlookers, cried, “Oh, no, Mrs. Morrow, +can’t I try by myself?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +</p> +<p> +As the Director nodded an assent, while the doctor +laughingly declared she would have beginner’s luck, Nathalie +took her match, examined it carefully, and then +scratched it on the box. A tiny blue flame quivered in +the air, which she carefully sheltered with her hand +as she knelt before the heap of twigs, and blew, oh, so +softly. It must have been a magic blow, for as she +bent down and held it to the smallest twig she could +find, almost a wisp of straw, it spread itself to the air, +caught the twig in its flame, and in another moment +drifting spurts of smoke showed that Nathalie had +lighted the fire with one match! +</p> +<p> +The doctor whistled softly as he saw that Nathalie +had succeeded, but before she could regain an upright +position, the Pioneers had broken forth into loud clapping, +somewhat to her confusion as she stood with the +blackened match still in her hand. +</p> +<p> +Should she tell, she pondered, as her glance swept +from face to face of the applauding girls; then as she +saw the amused look in the doctor’s eyes, as he stood +with folded arms leaning against a tree watching her, +she gave a little laugh. She opened her lips to speak, +but when the clapping continued, as if each Pioneer was +bent on seeing who could clap the loudest, she raised +her hand as she had seen Mrs. Morrow and Helen do +sometimes. +</p> +<p> +This appeal had the desired effect, and as the clapping +dwindled, Nathalie, with a nervous laugh, cried, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +“Girls, please don’t clap me any more, for I do not +deserve it. This is not the first time I have lighted a +fire with a single match. A few summers ago I camped +up in the Maine woods. The second day at camp some +one upset a pail of water on the box with our match +supply, and as only one dry box was left, and it was +some miles to the nearest settlement, we were compelled +to economize, and were allowed only one match +to light a fire. I was going to tell you,” she gave a +little ripple of laughter, “but you were all so anxious +to show me I did not want to spoil your fun, and then +as I have not attempted the feat since that summer, I +did not know whether I could do it again or not.” +</p> +<p> +A circle of stones was now placed around the fires so +as to prevent them from spreading in case of a strong +wind, and then the lunch-boxes were opened. It was +not long before the savory fumes of frying frankfurters, +boiling cocoa, and flapjacks signified that a +camp dinner was in progress. +</p> +<p> +The girls found a level rock on which they spread +a cloth and small board, and then the bread was cut +and buttered in a way that showed that they were experts +at the task. Nathalie made the cocoa, counting +noses as she put in a teaspoonful of cocoa to every cup +of boiling water, letting it boil three minutes by the +watch of the doctor, who had kindly offered to help +his little hike-mate, as he called her. +</p> +<p> +The hikers now seated themselves around the fires—for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span> +there were three—and then something happened +that held Nathalie with reverent awe for she +saw Mrs. Morrow’s face sober with a sweet seriousness, +as she gave the signal for silence. Every head +was quickly lowered in response to this signal, and +then a timid voice—it belonged to the Flower—broke +the reverent stillness by softly chanting a blessing to +the Giver of all good. +</p> +<p> +Each girl had brought her own tin cup, plate, knife +and fork, lump of sugar, and napkin. Pats of butter +were now distributed, followed by the molasses jug, +so as to be ready for the flapjacks that were now +browning to a turn. The “Ohs!” and “Ahs!” of +delight that burst forth as the cakes found their way +around the circle amply repaid the baker for her reddened +face and hard labor over the burning fagots. +</p> +<p> +Of course there had to be mishaps; the first piece +of bacon to grease the griddle dropped into the fire +instead of the pan, and a number of cakes turned out +failures and had to be consigned to the waste-heap. +But it was a regular hike spread, and meant lots and +lots of fun, especially when the pancake contest was +started. +</p> +<p> +This was something new to Nathalie, and she quite +enjoyed it as she watched one girl after the other take +her turn in making a flapjack. She first poured the +batter on the griddle in just the right quantity, and +then skillfully tossed it high in air as she turned it, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +so that it would land in just the right place on the +pan and finish to just the right shade of brown. +</p> +<p> +All the party, even the doctor, tried their hands at +this feat, all but the new Pioneer, who shrank back, +afraid to venture as she knew that expertness came +only with many trials. But the girls were persistent +and so good-natured in trying to show her that she +felt a little ashamed, especially when Mrs. Morrow, +who was jotting down the names of the experts for +merit badges, repeated softly, “I can!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie immediately sprang up, and although feeling +that she would make a perfect goose of herself at +this new trial, took the little pitcher, poured out the +batter, and then with a quaking heart watched it +darken. Ah, she slipped the turner under, and was +just about to give it the magic toss when her hand +slipped, and batter and turner fell into the flames. +</p> +<p> +She was so disgusted with this dismal attempt that +she would have liked to disappear to parts unknown +if the doctor had not cried, “Ah, just one more trial, +I know you will get it this time!” To her unutterable +astonishment the doctor’s prediction came true, and +she really tossed a flapjack with such success that her +hike-mate declared it was “the best ever,” and begged +permission to eat it in memory of the plucky deed. +</p> +<p> +Of course Grace, Louise, and Helen each won a +badge, as was discovered when the contest was over. +But even feasting has its limitations on a warm day +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +in June, and as the edibles disappeared the hike spread +came to an end. The Tike and one of the Bob Whites +were now despatched to the spring for some water, +while the rest of the hikers—all but Mrs. Morrow, +who was escorted to the wigwam for a siesta—flew +hither and thither, filling the pots with water to boil +off the grease, rubbing the griddle with sand, and so on. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie and the doctor were jabbing the knives +in the dirt to clean them, Helen came running up +crying, “Oh, what do you suppose the water-carriers +are up to? They have been gone an awfully long +time and we have not a drop of water to wash the +dishes?” +</p> +<p> +“I will go and see!” exclaimed the doctor, jumping +up hastily, but he had not gone more than a few +steps when a shrill scream broke the brooding silence +of the woods. In another instant pots, pans, and dishes +were flung broadcast as every one made a wild rush in +the direction of the spring, headed by the doctor. As +the doctor reached the spring, however, and saw that +the screams did not issue from that quarter he turned, +and with a few flying leaps reached the scene of disaster, +some distance down the stream. +</p> +<p> +The girls started to run after him, but in a moment +his loud laughter brought them to a standstill, for +surely it could not be anything very serious or he +would not be indulging in such levity! Helen and the +Sport, however, who had rushed steadily on, were not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +far behind the doctor, and as they swung around the +bend of the trees, they beheld a diminutive figure, sputtering +and gasping, with rivulets of water trickling +from bedraggled garments and locks, being assisted up +the bank by the doctor’s strong arm! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span><a name='chXIII' id='chXIII'></a>CHAPTER XIII—AROUND THE CHEER FIRE</h2> +<p> +The sorry-looking object proved to be the Tike, +who between sobs and shivery shakes explained, +as the party surrounded her, that +tempted by the mirror-like surface of a dark pool in +the middle of the brook she had stooped to see if she +could see her face in it. Unfortunately, her knee +slipped on a loose stone, and she had tumbled in. +</p> +<p> +With much laughter and merriment the girls made +a stretcher, tumbled the somewhat subdued fag into +it, and then set off for the wigwam, where Miss Carol +was speedily disrobed and her clothes hung out to dry, +as the girls merrily sang, “on a hickory limb!” +</p> +<p> +Bundled up in wraps after a few drops of stimulant +had been administered to prevent her taking cold, +which made her drowsy, she was left to the ministrations +of the dream fairies, while the girls hurried off +to wash the dishes and finish cleaning up. While this +was being performed, the doctor showed Nathalie how +to throw dirt or water on the fires—all but one, which +was left for a cheer fire—so as to be sure that they +were all out. The girls, he said, had learned a lesson +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +last summer when they left a fire smoldering when +they struck camp. It soon burst into a blaze and if it +hadn’t been for a party of Scouts who had been off for +a tramp the woods would have been on fire. +</p> +<p> +Camp duties done, the cheer fire blazed a welcome +and the girls hastily circled around it, and were soon +busily engaged in packing the roots of their wild +flowers with clay, wrapping them in big leaves and +tying them securely with sweet grasses or string. +They were then placed in the Tike’s basket to delight +the heart of some shut-in, whose only outing was from +the window. +</p> +<p> +When this task was completed the flower specimens +were laid in rows, and then Helen as leader, gave the +names of her specimens; each girl having a like specimen +laid it carefully between a sheet of blotting paper +to remove the moisture, and then pressed it deftly in +her note-book, where it was fastened with gummed +paper across the stems and thick parts of the plant. +Under each flower was now written its botanical name, +its common name, the date of finding it, its habitat, +and any other data that could be obtained from the +Encyclopedia, who, with flower books spread before +her, was kept busy supplying all the needed information. +</p> +<p> +Each odd specimen was passed around for inspection, +and then the lucky finder jubilantly placed it on +record, while others wrote additional information as +to the insects that visit it, whether it is a pollen-bearer, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +if it slept at night, or closed in the sun. The doctor +supplemented Barbara’s book lore by stray bits of +knowledge that he had picked up from actual experience +in his many scout rambles. The girls were only +too pleased to listen, being particularly interested in +his account of the evolution of color in flowers. +</p> +<p> +When the time came for telling cheer fire stories, +Mrs. Morrow suggested that they should be flower +stories, stipulating, however, that the legends told +should be about the specimens that had been found in +that day’s hike. +</p> +<p> +With this, the doctor, who was lying on the grass +by the side of Nathalie, pulled off his hat which she +had decorated with a dandelion wreath, and waving it +high so every one could see it in its yellow glory, said +he would start the wheel of yarns by telling about the +maiden with the fluffy cobweb hair. +</p> +<p> +As he said “hair,” Lillie Bell rose, and in ready +imitation of the renowned Rebecca of Sunnybrook +Farm tragically intoned: +</p> +<p> + “Robaire! Robaire!<br /> + Let down your hair!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +The girls burst into peals of laughter, for even in +the sleepy town of Westport every one had seen the +beloved Rebecca, and keenly appreciated Lillie’s timely +pose. +</p> +<p> +“But this slim bit of a girl,” smiled the doctor, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span> +“didn’t let down her yellow tresses, they just flew +with the wind, until Shawondassee—this is an Indian +legend—the South Wind saw her. Instead of seeking +this witching maiden, whom he admired so deeply, +he was lulled to sleep by the fragrance of the summer +flowers and forgot all about her. The next day he +again spied his yellow charmer away off among the +grasses of the meadows, but after lazily wishing she +would come to him he snoozed off again. To his horror, +the next day he found that the maiden’s tresses +were gone, and that in her place stood an old woman +who looked as if Jack Frost had sprinkled her with +his silver dust. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah,’ sighed Shawondassee, ‘my brother the North +Wind has done this wrong.’ So he hurriedly arose +and blew his horn loud and fierce to the whitened figure +standing so forlornly out in the fields. But alas, as +his soft breezes whistled gently about the old woman, +her snow-white hair fell to the ground, and then she, +too, soon disappeared, leaving nothing but a few upright +stems and a bunch of withered leaves. She was +the dandelion, whose petals turn to fluffy hair when +touched by the North Wind. This yellow maiden is +said to be a symbol of the sun, and has been named +Dandelion because it is claimed that its petals resemble +a lion’s tooth.” +</p> +<p> +The common little field flower seemed to have gained +in interest after the legend, and was examined with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span> +greater curiosity, while the Scribe hurriedly wrote the +legend on a stray page of her copy-pad to feature it in +the “Pioneer.” +</p> +<p> +Lillie Bell, who had gathered a number of wild forget-me-nots, +told a pathetic German legend about that +sweetheart flower, while Helen explained that the +marigold, instead of being such a common plant, was +in reality the bride of the sun. It was once a maiden +named Caltha, who, in reward for her faithfulness to +the sun, was finally lost in his golden rays, and on the +spot where she used to stand and gaze at her fiery +lover the marigold grew. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, who had been deeply interested in the +legends, experienced somewhat of a shock when Mrs. +Morrow suddenly said, “Now, Nathalie, are we not +to hear a flower legend, or some kind of a story from +you?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I am a poor hand at story-telling,” the girl +speedily answered. +</p> +<p> +“Hear! hear! this is treason!” called Helen loudly, +“for a Pioneer who has won fame as a Story Lady!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that is different,” pleaded her friend in mild +despair, “those were only children’s stories.” +</p> +<p> +“To be able to tell stories to children, Nathalie, and +to keep their attention,” spoke Mrs. Morrow, “shows +ability, and if we have so gifted a Pioneer I think it is +our due to hear from her.” +</p> +<p> +“And then, Nathalie,” urged Grace, “every Pioneer +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +has to know how to tell stories, and this is a good time +to make a beginning.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I see I am doomed, notwithstanding my protests,” +said the girl after a short pause. “I will try +to tell one if you will let me put on my thinking-cap +for a moment.” As permission was accorded to this +request, Nathalie turned and glanced helplessly at the +doctor, as if she might find inspiration in his merry +eyes, Helen laughingly declared. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie blushed as the doctor shook his head and +said, “No, hike-mate, I am at your service in everything +but a story, for I ran dry when I told mine. +Then I know you have nerve and brains enough to do +your own thinking.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I know one!” the girl suddenly cried as her +face lighted, and then closing her eyes for a moment, +as if to invoke the aid of some unknown muse, she +said, “I read it in a newspaper the other day. It is +about a flower, but I will let you guess its name.” +</p> +<p> +“It was in the spring,” she continued slowly, “and +old Peboan sat alone in his ragged tepee. His hair +fell about his time-worn face like glistening icicles as +he shivered in his fur robes; oh, so cold, so weak and +hungry, for he had had no food for days. As he bent +over to blow upon the smoldering embers that glowed +at his feet, he besought the Great Spirit to come to +his aid. +</p> +<p> +“As he thus prayed and lamented a handsome young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span> +girl stepped within the tent. Her eyes were as blue +as the summer sky and were filled with a liquid light, +while her golden hair floated gracefully with the wind. +Her cheeks were like apple blossoms and her gown was +made of sweet grasses and green leaves. In her arms +she carried twigs of the pussy-willow. Going softly +to the old man, she cried in a voice as sweet as the +brook’s gentle flow, ‘Peboan, what can I do for +thee?’ +</p> +<p> +“The old man raised his head as he heard the maiden’s +sweet voice, and as he saw her in her spring glory +he cried bitterly, ‘I am hungry and cold. I have lost +my power over nature, for the streams have refused +to stand still for me. My mantle disappears from the +earth as rapidly as I cover it, and the flowers are peeping +from their brown beds, although I have bidden them +sleep.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Peboan,’ replied the maiden, ‘I am Seguin, the +summer manitou; the flowers are obeying me, for I +have bidden them arise. The leaves are budding on +the trees, the pussies are out in all their furry finery, +for I, Seguin, now possess the earth. The snow and +ice have disappeared, for they have obeyed my voice, +and your power is gone. All nature pays me homage, +for I am the Queen of the earth, the Goddess of +spring! +</p> +<p> +“’Peboan, you are the winter manitou, and the +Great Spirit calls you! Now go!’ As Seguin said +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span> +these words she gently waved her wand over the old +man’s head as it sank between his shoulders. +</p> +<p> +“The winter manitou made no reply, but drew his +furs closer about his shivering form, and then, as he +heard the song of the spring birds, and the rustling of +the leaves in the sunshine, he sank to the ground. +</p> +<p> +“As a ray of the warm sun filtered through the top +of the tepee and fell upon the old man, who lay exhausted +on the earth; Seguin again raised her wand, +and the winter manitou disappeared. His furs had +turned to dancing leaves; his tepee to a tall tree. Then +Seguin stooped, and gathering a handful of the leaves +from the tree she breathed on them—very softly—and +then threw them on the earth. They immediately +stood upright, each holding forth a tiny pink flower, +gay with a delicate perfume. +</p> +<p> +“‘Grow and blossom,’ cried the spring maiden +softly, ‘and bloom a welcome to the hearts of those who +are depressed by winter’s gales, for you are a token +that Peboan, the winter manitou is gone. You are +the first flower that comes in the spring.’ Now what +is the name of it?” ended Nathalie abruptly. +</p> +<p> +“Snowdrop!” called Helen quickly. Nathalie +shook her head. +</p> +<p> +“Violet!” timidly ventured some one. +</p> +<p> +“Violet?” the Sport repeated scornfully. “Who +ever heard of a pink violet? Nathalie said this flower +was pink.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow broke the sudden silence that followed +the Sport’s remark by saying softly, “I think it is the +arbutus!” +</p> +<p> +“That’s it!” cried Nathalie, and then to her bewilderment +every one began to clap again. As the +clapping continued, the girls meanwhile, watching her +with sparkling eyes, Nathalie turned and whispered to +the doctor, “Why, what are they clapping for?” +</p> +<p> +But before he could reply the Sport shouted, “Hurrah +for the Story Lady!” +</p> +<p> +The cry was repeated again and again to Nathalie’s +confusion. In a moment, however, her wits asserted +themselves, and springing to her feet, with a low sweeping +courtesy she cried, “Thank you, fellow Pioneers, +I am glad you liked my first cheer-fire story!” +</p> +<p> +The clapping now subsided, and after several had expressed +their admiration by saying that the story was +the “best ever,” Mrs. Morrow started a floral conundrum, +which proved a thriller, the doctor claimed, as +he sat with humorous eyes and watched the girls, who +all sat up and took notice, as one after the other called +out the name of a flower in answer to the questions +propounded by their Director. +</p> +<p> +When the questions had all been answered, it was +discovered that the names of the star actors in this +little floral drama, the color of their eyes, hair, and so +on, as well as the musical instrument played by the +lover, the words of his proposal, the wedding, and even +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span> +the time and place of the honeymoon, had all been answered +by the names of flowers. +</p> +<p> +Lillie Bell, at Mrs. Morrow’s request, took her mandolin, +and after thrumming it softly broke into a quaint +low strain of melody, while Louise sang in her sweet +little soprano voice, “All in a Garden Fair,” “Fortune +My Foe,” and “Nymphs and Shepherds,” each number +being one of a group of old English songs dating as +far back as 1555. After receiving an encore, Louise +favored them with “Polly Willis,” and “Golden Slumber +Kiss Your Eyes,” two more popular ballads of the +seventeenth century. +</p> +<p> +These old-time songs were a surprise for Mrs. Morrow, +who had often been heard to remark that it was +a pity, as they were Pioneers, that they did not know +some of the songs that used to be sung in those days, +instead of ragtime songs. But ragtime was not altogether +displaced, for in a few minutes the girls were +singing “The Sweet Little Girl with the Quaint +Squeegee,” “Dry yo’ Eyes,” and “My Little Dream +Girl,” with a verve and gusto that made the woods resound +to the ring of their girlish voices. +</p> +<p> +By this time cramped limbs and the joyousness of +life asserted themselves, and every one began to feel +that they wanted to run, leap, and jump, so at the doctor’s +suggestion they played the Scout game of “Stalking.” +The doctor was the deer, not hiding, but standing +and moving a little now and then as he liked, while +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +the girls vied with one another in trying to touch him +without being seen. +</p> +<p> +The doctor did his part so well that he was duly +tantalizing, the Pioneers declared, as they watched him +with strained eyes, being unable to catch him napping. +When the doctor called “Time,” the game ended +by all the girls coming to a halt on the spot where they +were standing when the call sounded, the girl nearest +the deer winning the game. +</p> +<p> +Prisoner’s Base was then started; the goals were +marked off, the players divided into two sections, one +stationed in each goal, and then the fun began. A girl +would advance towards the opposite goal, and then run +back into safety, while one of her mates came to her +rescue by chasing her pursuer, who, in turn, was rescued +by one of her own mates. The rushing about +gave health, glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes attesting +that muscles, limbs, and blood were being exercised +to a good purpose. But after the doctor had again +defeated them by never getting caught, the game was +abandoned, the girls all vowing he was magic-limbed, +for he was so quick and agile on his feet. +</p> +<p> +After a short time spent in practicing bird calls, as +it was nearing the time to return home the hikers gathered +up their belongings, packed their knapsacks, and +with staffs in hand started out on the homeward hike. +They all declared that they were not a bit fatigued by +the day’s activities, and jested merrily one with another, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +or happily sang snatches of songs as they wended +their way back to town. +</p> +<p> +By the time they had reached the cross-roads their +spirits had subsided somewhat, all but the Sport’s, who +teasingly whisked off Barbara’s hat and the next instant +was whizzing down the road with it clutched in +her hand. +</p> +<p> +Barbara, notwithstanding her weighty nickname of +the Encyclopedia, was agile, and lost no time in flying +after her, urged to speed by the girls. Although inclined +to poke fun sometimes at Barbara for her absent-mindedness +and love of books, the girls were her firm +friends. They loved her for her kindly heart and sincere +efforts to help others. +</p> +<p> +There was a shout of victory when it was seen that +the Encyclopedia had captured her head-gear, and they +were all clapping vociferously when an automobile +rounded the bend in the road. The car turned out to +be the doctor’s, whose chauffeur had promised to meet +him near the cross-roads as he had to be in his office +by five that afternoon. +</p> +<p> +The doctor quickly assisted Mrs. Morrow into the +car as she had decided to ride, and then stood and +waited while the Pioneers—two of whom had been +invited to join their Director—urged Kitty with her +iron pot, and the Flower with her griddle to accept the +invitation. +</p> +<p> +The girls finally consented, and with many waves +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +of the hands to the pedestrians, and a loud honk, honk, +the car glided down the road and out of sight. +</p> +<p> +Helen, Nathalie, and Edith, as they lived near one +another, bade their mates good-by, and, as they had +decided to take a short cut home, turned down a side +path. As they strolled slowly along a road running by +a low stone wall hedging a pasture, where a brook +twisted like a silver cord in the undulating grass, Edith +asked her companions if they did not want to walk to +the Bluff, where they would have a fine view of the +bay in the distance. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes,” assented Helen, “it is a lovely view, +Nathalie, and will only be a step out of the way if we +go by the brook.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, although feeling somewhat tired, was +anxious to visit the Bluff, and a minute later the three +girls climbed the stone barricade and were keeping pace +with the brook’s windings as it leaped boisterously over +a bed of stones, or crept lingeringly, with murmuring +ripples, between grass-fringed banks. +</p> +<p> +Presently they wandered into the shade of the trees, +where, to Nathalie’s surprise, she found the old brook +bed. Instead of being earth and stones, however, it +was green and flower-starred, overshadowed by weeping +willows and silver birches, their interlaced tops +bending low as if seeking their old-time friend with its +murmuring song. +</p> +<p> +Lulled by the mossy dell and the fragrance of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +woodland posies, the girls loitered, and did not realize +that the afternoon was waning until they reached the +Bluff. They raced to the top, where Nathalie’s joy at +being the fleetest was forgotten, as with stilled eyes she +gazed upon the fertile strip of valley below, its green +specked by tiny white cottages and washed by the +waters of the bay that shone in the glow of the setting +sun like a sheet of brass. +</p> +<p> +The air was becoming chilled by the mist that was +hovering in the distance, and they turned and quickly +made their way back to the road. Whereupon, Edith +insisted that they take the summit road, leading over +a small hill at one end of the town, which she declared +would save time. +</p> +<p> +Her companions assented, and in a short space they +were pantingly trudging up the slope, and then, beginning +to realize how tired they were, they sat down on a +rock near the edge of the summit to rest. Lured by +the changing colors of the afterglow they grew silent, +awed, perhaps, by the calm that hushes all nature when +the light of day is fading into the misty shadows of +twilight. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie had turned from the mountains of pink +foam that floated up from the golden west, and was +gazing down at the town, where little twinkling lights +were beginning to peep here and there between the +tree-tops, when Edith suddenly cried, “Oh, look at +that smoke!” pointing to a street just below the slope +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span> +where black columns of smoke were rushing upward. +</p> +<p> +“Some one must be making a big bonfire,” answered +Helen inertly, as her eyes followed the direction of +Edith’s finger. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Helen, that is not a bonfire,” was the +Sport’s quick retort. “Oh, I saw a flame shoot up!” +she added excitedly. +</p> +<p> +“So did I!” exclaimed Nathalie, springing on her +feet. “And oh, there’s another.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, the church is on fire!” shouted Edith. +“There—don’t you see—the flames are coming out +of the back!” +</p> +<p> +The girls with dazed eyes and beating hearts looked +at the old Methodist church, set back from a tree mantled +road, within a few feet of a white cottage, the +parsonage, that nested like some white bird in the shelter +of the waving boughs of the trees. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls,” wailed the Sport, as she turned abruptly +and gazed at them with an awe-struck countenance; +“it is the church—and the new organ—they +were to finish it to-day!” She wrung her hands frantically. +</p> +<p> +Her companions made no reply, their eyes were +glued on the columns of smoke that hurtled in dense +masses up into the air. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t believe any one knows about it!” exclaimed +Helen. “Oh, what shall we do? It will be +of no use to shout ‘Fire!’ we are too far away.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I know what we can do,” cried Edith heatedly. +“We can run to the fire-house and give the alarm!” +</p> +<p> +But Helen had already started forward, and Nathalie +followed blindly, not even knowing where the fire-house +was. Edith, like the flash of a flame, shot ahead +of the two girls, and the next instant was tearing like +some wild thing down the hill. In a few moments she +had turned up a road and was speeding in the direction +of a red house with a funny little cupola that loomed +up above the small cottages surrounding it. +</p> +<p> +“Fire!” yelled the Sport, as she tore frantically +along. Helen took up the cry, but Nathalie, although +she tried to follow her example, only succeeded in making +a hoarse sound that died away almost as soon as it +left her whitened lips. +</p> +<p> +As her breath began to come in gasps she was half +tempted to stop and let the other two girls give the +alarm. But something told her that would not be the +act of a Pioneer, and she struggled on until she arrived +in front of the old ramshackle building with the red +cupola which looked as if it had once done service as +a barn. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, there is no one here!” panted Helen as she +beat frenziedly with her two hands on the big wooden +door. “It is barred inside.” +</p> +<p> +But the Sport, like a whirlwind, had flown around +to the rear of the building, and the next moment was +crawling through a window she had found unfastened. +It took but a moment’s time to speed across the floor, +give the bar a pull, and fling wide the door. +</p> +<div><a name='illus-228' id='illus-228'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i007' id='i007'></a> +<img src="images/illus-228.jpg" alt="The rope had broken in her grasp." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>The rope had broken in her grasp.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span></div> +<p> +“We must ring the bell,” gasped Helen, as she +glanced up at an old rope that dangled in the center +of the fire-house from a big bell which hung motionless +in the small tower above their heads. +</p> +<p> +The three girls sprang for the rope, but the Sport +was the quickest and caught the dangling rope in her +hands. Summoning all her strength she gave it a hard +pull. The next instant, as the loud clang of the bell +rang out, the girls heard a sudden imprecation, and +looked hastily down to see the Sport with a rueful +countenance sitting on the floor—the rope had broken +in her grasp! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span><a name='chXIV' id='chXIV'></a>CHAPTER XIV—OVERCOMES</h2> +<p> +The girls gazed in wide-eyed surprise at their +prostrate companion, and then, as they saw +that she was not hurt, their sense of humor +broke bounds, and they burst into merry peals of laughter, +for she did look so comical sitting there with that +“Where—am—I?” sort of look on her face. +</p> +<p> +But the Sport was too excited to mind bumps or +laughter as she jumped up and peered above her head. +“The rope has broken!” she exclaimed irritably. +“Oh, if I could only get hold of that broken end up +there,” her eyes leaped quickly around the barn, “I +could ring the bell again. Oh, there’s a ladder!” +With an alert spring she had grabbed it and then began +to drag it under the tower. +</p> +<p> +The girls by this time had recovered from their unwonted +merriment, and, feeling somewhat ashamed of +leaving the Sport to work unaided, rushed to her assistance. +They soon had the ladder resting against a +broad beam that ran across the barn directly under the +tower where the broken piece of rope still swung. +</p> +<p> +Up the ladder climbed Edith, high to the top, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +alas, she was just a few inches short of touching the +swaying rope, which she now perceived was fastened +to a chain that hung from the bell. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, what will you do?” cried Helen, as the two +girls stretched their necks almost off their shoulders to +see if there was not some way out of the difficulty. +</p> +<p> +“I know what I will do,” exclaimed the Sport suddenly. +“I will climb up on the beam, walk a few steps, +and then I can reach it.” +</p> +<p> +“You will fall!” exclaimed Nathalie in nervous +fear. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, she won’t,” called out Helen hastily. +“You don’t know Edith; that’s an easy feat for her, +for she’s a regular acrobat. But, Edith, be careful!” +she finished, with sudden anxiety, as she saw the girl +climb up on the beam and then lift herself upright. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, with her breath held, watched Edith for a +moment, and then as she saw her reach out to catch the +dangling rope, she closed her eyes, thrilled in every +nerve with silent terror for fear she would miss her +footing. +</p> +<p> +But she didn’t, for when Nathalie opened her eyes +just for a hurried peep, she saw Edith with the rope +in her hand. The next instant she had bent to her +task and a loud “Clang! Clang!” rang sharply out. +</p> +<p> +“One, two, three!” a moment’s pause, then, “One, +two, three!” Twice this was repeated as the girls +stood waiting below with their eyes fixed on the ringer’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +every movement; Helen, fearful that she would become +reckless and reach too far, while Nathalie obeyed an +impulse she could not define and just watched in nervous +tension. +</p> +<p> +Ah, she had dropped her arms and was looking down +at the girls. “What are you standing there for, ninnies?” +she emphasized with a stamp of her foot that +sent a shiver of horror through Nathalie’s wildly beating +heart. “Why don’t you go and get the engine +out?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, so we can,” rejoined Helen quickly. “I never +thought! Come, you help me!” catching Nathalie by +the arm. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie turned and followed Helen, who had +swiftly run to the fire-engine, a newly painted affair, a +box on wheels, standing in the rear of the fire-house. +With an alert spring she was close at Helen’s heels, +and in a moment more had grabbed one of the two +ropes tied to the front axle. Helen, who stood with +the other rope in her hand, now cried, “Quick, let’s run +it out to the road!” +</p> +<p> +It rolled easily, and the two girls were just about +to wheel it through the open door, when a man in a +red shirt, leather hat, and his trousers tucked into his +rubber boots dashed hurriedly up to them. +</p> +<p> +“Where’s the fire?” he panted. With heated face +and eyes bulging excitement he seized the rope from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +Nathalie’s hand, and the next minute, with Helen’s +help, had run the engine out into the road. +</p> +<p> +“The Methodist church is on fire!” yelled the Sport +from her high perch on the beam, but there was no need +to say more, for several other men had arrived, all in +red shirts and firemen’s helmets, while others were seen +racing from all directions towards the fire-house. In +a few moments’ time a crowd had collected, each one +bent in lending a hand, and all shouting with full vocal +power as if they thought—so it seemed to Nathalie—their +shouts would put out the fire. +</p> +<p> +In the midst of this clamorous din, another rubber-booted +individual appeared, not only in fireman’s regalia, +but with a big brass trumpet. On this he blew +a mighty blast, and then with much gesticulation bellowed +his orders to the men. +</p> +<p> +A final order from the chief, as the man with the +trumpet proved to be, and the six or eight men holding +the ropes of the engine started at breakneck speed down +the hill. They were followed by a crowd of shouting +men, women, hooting boys, and crying children, each +one frenzied with excitement and with the avowed purpose +of being first at the fire. +</p> +<p> +The girls, for by this time Edith had descended from +her perilous perch, stood silent and watched the engine +whiz down the slope leading to the town, the red-shirted +firemen in front of it shouting angrily in their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +endeavors to stop the rear men from pushing it down +on their heels too rapidly. +</p> +<p> +But Edith, who was never still two minutes if there +was anything going on, with a wild, “Hoopla, I’m +going to see the fire!” started in the wake of the hooting +mob, running at a speed that soon made her one of +the rank and file that went plunging down the hill. +</p> +<p> +Helen’s eyes followed the flying figure, and then, +with a “Come on, don’t let the Sport outdo us!” she +was racing after her. Nathalie, bewildered by this +strange and novel experience that had leaped into her +life, stood still, uncertain what to do. She felt a sudden +abhorrence of mingling with the fire-crazed crowd +that surged before her. Brought up to keep away +from these spectacular affairs of the city, she felt she +would be transgressing all laws of decorum if she followed +her friends. But the impulse to do as the other +Pioneers did spurred her on, and with a quick leap +forward she cast all conventionalities to the wind, and +started on a dead run to catch up with Helen. +</p> +<p> +The girls were too quick for her and she arrived in +front of the church only to make one more of a densely +packed crowd of fire-seekers standing opposite the +burning building, wild-eyed and weirdly pale from the +reflection of the flaming tongues of red, which darted +upward with a licking greediness that made the wooden +building crack and snap under their devouring greed. +</p> +<p> +Spying Edith a few feet away, she hastily pushed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +through the jam of people to her side, only to hear her +scream frantically, “Look out, Nathalie!” But the +warning came too late, for a shower of water had already +struck her in the back with terrific force, almost +bowling her over. Ugh! it was running down her +back with such icy spray that she screamed aloud, and +then shrank back as jeering laughter from those standing +by greeted her mishap. +</p> +<p> +But their merriment was short-lived, as the water +deluge came again and Nathalie saw the contortions +that shot from face to face of her neighbors as with +shrill cries they tried to dodge to one side in their frantic +endeavors to escape. In the midst of the confusion +some one suddenly bellowed, “Run for your lives, the +hose has burst!” +</p> +<p> +There were more shouts of dismay from the crowd +of struggling, fighting figures, and then they had scattered. +Edith by this time had grabbed Nathalie by +the hand and in a moment or so she was safe on a +neighboring porch. +</p> +<p> +“O dear, what will they do?” lamented Edith. +“That hose is the only one in town!” For a few moments +it looked as if not only the church but the parsonage +and the adjacent buildings were to fall victims +to the blazing flames that swept upward and outward +with shooting jets between tall columns of black rolling +smoke. +</p> +<p> +“They are going to form a bucket brigade!” shouted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span> +Edith suddenly into Nathalie’s ear. The words had +barely passed her lips when she dropped her companion’s +cold fingers, and was racing with a crowd of men, +women, and boys towards a pond a short distance away. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie stood still and gazed with suppressed excitement +at this new development of the fire-crazed people. +It seemed to her as if every one in Westport must +have owned a bucket from the number of people that +sped—as if magic swept—towards the pond, where +a long line of human beings, with a deftness and quickness +that amazed her, were already passing buckets +from one to the other and then on to the firemen who +formed a line across the road in front of the church. +</p> +<p> +Each fireman would grab a bucket, pass it on to his +mate, who in turn passed it on to the next one, and +so on, until its contents had been splashed on the seething +flames. Then just as quickly it was shoved by way +of another line back to the pond to be filled again and +once more hurried on its journey of rescue. +</p> +<p> +“Come, get busy!” some one suddenly yelled at this +crisis. “They are forming another line at the pump!” +Nathalie swung about to see Fred Tyson holding out to +her an empty bucket. The unexpectedness of this new +demand upon her overwrought nerves tempted her to +scurry to parts unknown, as she backed away from +Fred with the startled exclamation, “O dear, no!” +</p> +<p> +Fred, realizing how she felt, looked down at her +with a reassuring smile as he answered, “Come, you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +must help; you are a Pioneer—it will be a fine experience +for you!” Nathalie, without a word, grabbed the +bucket and in another second was running swiftly by +the side of this new friend as he guided her to the pump. +</p> +<p> +An hour later Nathalie appeared at the corner of the +street leading to her home. Weary, bedraggled, sooted +from head to foot, and with gleaming beads of perspiration +running over her face, she was still jubilant. +She had been to a real fire, and, what is more, had +helped to put it out. For the buckets had done their +work, and although the church stood a framework of +glowing embers, the parsonage and other buildings had +been saved. +</p> +<p> +She was so glad when she saw she was nearing her +home, that, as she informed Fred, who had accompanied +her, she felt like dancing a jig on her head from +sheer joy, although she was not only tired to the verge +of distraction, but faint from hunger. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, and there’s Mother! I guess she’s been almost +worried to death,” she exclaimed as she spied her +mother standing on the veranda anxiously peering +down the path. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I guess she has been almost worried to +death!” exclaimed a voice, as a white-robed figure +stepped out from the shadows of the trees on the lawn. +</p> +<p> +It was Lucille. “If it hadn’t been for me, Nathalie +Page,” she emphasized with upheld finger, “your +mother would have been down to the fire herself. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span> +was sure you were the first one burned to death. Why, +you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Nathalie Page!” +she averred indignantly. +</p> +<p> +But there was no need to lecture Nathalie further, +for her heart had been thumping violently in nervous +dread all the way home, and she was already scurrying +up the walk to the stoop. “Oh, Mother,” she panted, +“did you think something dreadful had happened to +me?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I was quite nervous about you for a time,” +replied her mother rather cheerily for one who had +been almost worried to death, as she put her arm +around the tired girl. “Lucille obligingly started to +look for you, and met Dr. Homer, who said you were +all right, helping put the fire out as a bucket maiden. +But, my dear, you are all wet, and hungry, too, I’ll +warrant.” +</p> +<p> +“You just believe I am,” cried Nathalie. “But, oh, +Mother, I have had such an adventurous day! Do let +me have something to eat, for I’m just about starved, +but, O dear, where’s Fred Tyson; he came home with +me?” +</p> +<p> +Fred was all right, having the cosiest of chats with +Lucille—whom all men adored from youth to old age—as +they walked up the path to the veranda. Would +he come in and have supper? Why, he guessed he +would, for he hadn’t had a mouthful since noon. +</p> +<p> +“By the Lord Harry, is that you, Blue Robin?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +spoke a voice from the couch as Nathalie ushered Fred +into the hall. “Gee, but you are as black as a colored +‘pusson,’” quoth Dick, as he rose from the couch and +hobbled towards her. +</p> +<p> +It was a most exciting supper, eagerly devoured by +Fred and Nathalie, as between bites, with glowing eyes, +each one told of her or his experience. Nathalie told +of the ringing of the fire bell, the exploits of the Sport, +and how she did duty at the pump. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mother, it has just been a regular red-letter +day!” she cried at length, “and I’m never again going +to despise Edith Whiton for being sporty, for if it +hadn’t been for her, I just believe the whole town would +have burned down!” +</p> +<p> +The second day after the fire was a Pioneer Rally +day, a Camp Fund day it had been called, for it was at +this meeting that the Pioneers were to decide upon the +entertainments they proposed having in order to raise +the money to pay the cost of two or three weeks at +camp that summer. One or two affairs had been held +during the winter and spring, so that a small nucleus +had been banked, but if this was not increased the +hearts of the Pioneers would be “wrung with woe,” +as the Sport had put it. +</p> +<p> +After the usual formalities of the Rally were over, +Mrs. Morrow called the names of those who for some +meritorious act or word were to receive badges of +merit. To Nathalie’s astonishment her name was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +called, and at a shove from Helen the dazed girl went +forward, and received three white stars, one for suggesting +the search-party and sticking to her colors in +the face of discouragement, another for telling stories +to Rosy, and the last for planning and getting up the +Story Club. She received the stars, Mrs. Morrow explained, +as badges of merit were not given until a +Pioneer had passed all tests and was a member of the +first order. +</p> +<p> +The Sport received two badges—being a first class +Pioneer—one for winning a contest in wigwagging, +and another for ringing the bell for the church fire. +Helen was also the recipient of a badge for her planning +and excellent supervision of the Flower hike, +while the Scribe received one for her skill in editing +the “Pioneer,” which had come to be a journal not only +of news, but of information. +</p> +<p> +“And now,” cried their Director, as she finished distributing +the badges, “I am going to talk about the +Camping Fund. As you all know, we must have one +or two entertainments to raise money for that purpose. +Several ideas have been submitted in compliance +with my request for suggestions from the girls, but unfortunately, +while a number are very good, only a few +will suit our purpose. There is one, however, that is +both patriotic and colonial, but it would require a large +lawn and I am at a loss what to say about it. I think +you all understand that the Pioneer who suggests the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +best entertainment, although her name is to be kept +secret until the end of the season, is to receive some +kind of a reward.” +</p> +<p> +“Could we not ask Mrs. Van Vorst again if she +would let us have her grounds?” ventured Louise +Gaynor somewhat timidly, realizing that the lady in +question was not in favor with the Pioneers because of +her rather eccentric ways. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I should say not!” broke in Edith. “She +has refused two or three times already, and if there is +an insane person there—” She stopped abruptly, rebuked +by a warning look from Mrs. Morrow. +</p> +<p> +“No, I do not think I would bother Mrs. Van Vorst +again,” said that lady. “But suppose I name a committee +to see if they cannot scour the town and find a +lawn.” Helen, Louise, and Nathalie were then named +to perform this duty. +</p> +<p> +During this discussion Nathalie’s eyes had sparkled +with suppressed emotion as she remembered her visit +to the gray house, accompanied by an overwhelming +desire to tell what she knew. Oh, wouldn’t it create a +sensation? But she had given her word, and like the +Spartan boy, although desire was gnawing at her vitals, +she kept still and smiled in evident ease. +</p> +<p> +“There is another entertainment that has been suggested,” +continued the Director. “It is an excellent +idea for it will put you all to work thinking. It is to +be called Pioneer Stunts, which means that each one of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span> +you is to be responsible for a recitation, a tableau, a +song, a playlet, in fact anything that is colonial or +pioneer in character. Each Pioneer is to work out her +own idea, and all ideas are to be kept secret until after +the performance, when a vote will be taken as to the +best stunt—that is, the best idea, and the stunt acted +the best—and then the name of the author will be revealed.” +</p> +<p> +The girls received this notice with applause, and each +one immediately began to suggest one thing and another +until warned by Mrs. Morrow again that the +ideas were to remain secrets. After some further discussion +it was decided to have the Pioneer Stunts the +first part of June, at Seton Hall, Mrs. Morrow suggesting +that the girls make it a Rose party and serve +ice-cream and strawberries on the lawn. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie came home very enthusiastic about the Pioneer +Stunt entertainment, and immediately set to work +to jot down the idea that had come to her at the Rally. +In the midst of writing her mother joined her and sat +down to sew. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mother,” exclaimed the girl happily, “I’m +awfully busy.” +</p> +<p> +“And working very hard, I see,” interposed Mrs. +Page, smiling at her daughter’s animated face, as she +patted the sunburned arm resting on the table. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” replied Nathalie, “I have an awful lot to +do.” And then she told about the entertainment, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +what she was planning. With a long drawn sigh she +cried, “Oh, Mumsie, I’m learning a terrible lot of useful +things.” +</p> +<p> +“I see you are,” assented her mother, “and I am +proud of you.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but they have not been a bit easy!” The +girl’s face grew grave. “Sometimes I have thought I +would have to give right up, but I haven’t,” she added +with an emphatic little nod. And then for the first +time she told her mother about the motto, “I Can,” +and what a great help she had found it. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Daughter, every little thing Miss I Can has +helped you to do has been an overcome.” +</p> +<p> +“Indeed they have been overcomes,” assented the +girl with another emphatic shake of her brown head. +“Washing dishes—oh, how I used to hate that job—now +I don’t mind it so much; cooking, telling stories +to Rosy, going to the fire, yes, and even getting up the +Story Club. I have just braced up, and then the first +thing I knew, presto! the job was done! +</p> +<p> +“Yes, they have all been overcomes,” repeated Nathalie, +“but it will be all right if I only manage to +earn—” She paused abruptly, suddenly remembering, +as she saw the lines of worry about her mother’s +mouth, that she and Dick had pledged themselves not +to talk about his operation, or to hint that they were +trying to save in any way for it. They had both been +troubled when they realized that when an anxiety was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +mentioned her mother’s face lost its happy look and she +became sad and worried. +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” added Mrs. Page, not noticing Nathalie’s +sudden pause, “I have been watching you for some +time grappling with these try-outs that have come into +your life, but I have said nothing, for I wanted to see +if you or they would conquer.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you dear Mumsie,” cried Nathalie joyously, +jumping up and giving her mother a good hug. “Do +you know, I felt dreadfully the other day to think you +had not said one word of praise; not that I want to be +praised all the time, but still a word now and then +comes in handy, you know; makes one feel so goody-goody.” +This was said laughingly. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie could not help feeling encouraged after this +comforting talk with her mother; she felt as if she had +conquered the whole world, that there was nothing she +could not overcome. But the next morning such a big +overcome, or try-out, as her mother had expressed it, +appeared, that it sufficed to lessen the glory of her +former victories. +</p> +<p> +Lucille was ill; she had retired to her bed with a fit +of indigestion, and the planning for the Pioneer Stunt, +the survey work that Nathalie and her committee were +to do, all had to be laid aside as she was instituted head +nurse in her cousin’s room. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mother,” she moaned dolefully, as she kissed +her mother good-night, “Lucille has been dreadfully +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span> +cross; nothing pleases her. It has been, ‘Oh, Nathalie, +don’t let that wind blow on me! Didn’t I tell you I +don’t like rice pudding! Oh, you’re the slowest poke!’ +Oh, Mother—” there was a lump in the girl’s throat, +“if I hadn’t felt so humiliated at being spoken to in +that way, I just believe I would have given her a good +shaking.” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind, Nathalie,” replied Mrs. Page consolingly, +“just remember it is another overcome and have +patience. She will soon be herself again, you know +she has been terribly upset, as she expected to spend a +few days with her friend and she is disappointed.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course, no one ever had a disappointment but +Lucille!” exclaimed Nathalie irritably. +</p> +<p> +“Nathalie!” reproved her mother, with a quick +glance at the girl. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well, it’s so, Mumsie,” replied her daughter +with the tears very near the surface, and then with another +kiss she hurried to her bed. +</p> +<p> +“Have you got your Stunt written?” inquired +Helen a few days later from her window as Nathalie +sat writing on the veranda. She held her hand up and +flourished a couple of typewritten pages as she spoke. +</p> +<p> +“No, I’m discouraged,” Nathalie lowered her voice. +“Lucille has been ill, and I have been kept awfully +busy waiting on her. Then when I finally managed +to get time to go to the library to get some dates, I lost +the whole thing.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span> +</p> +<p> +“What—the idea?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, the idea, and everything. I had been in the +library some time and had just finished. I did not +discover my loss until I was almost home, so I hurried +back, but the librarian knew nothing about it. I +hunted until I was distracted, and then I came home; +so that is the end of that. This morning I am trying +to think up another one.” +</p> +<p> +“Couldn’t you remember it?” questioned Helen +concernedly. +</p> +<p> +“No, I tried to, but I’ve been so busy it has just +flown away.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you are a lucky girl to have brains enough +to have more than one idea in your head to write up. +You should have seen the Sport; she was over here +last night, the picture of unadulterated woe, for she +could not even scare up one idea. She hung around +trying to get some suggestions from me, but I just +told her she would have to do her own work. She’s +the best ever when it comes to anything in the way of +sports, or any activity, but she will not use her brains. +She has a few, at least.” +</p> +<p> +“If she would spend more time reading instead +of—” Nathalie stopped with slightly reddened face, +for here was another overcome to win. She was +thoughtless at times, never having been disciplined, and +so, without meaning any harm, she was apt to express +her opinion too freely about the people around her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +“Oh, well,” she ended lamely, “she is a good Sport; +if it hadn’t been for her the other night the town would +have burned down.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s true,” laughed Helen good-naturedly, and +then with a wave of her typewritten pages she disappeared +from the window, as Nathalie turned and with +a dimpling face greeted Dr. Morrow, who had just +driven up to visit Lucille. +</p> +<p> +“You haven’t come to see me this time,” she suggested +archly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it’s half and half this time, Blue Robin, for I +have come to ask—oh, it is a message from the princess.” +The doctor lowered his voice cautiously as he +noted Dick at the other end of the veranda. “She +wants to know if you will make her another visit.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s bright face sobered and an embarrassed +silence followed as she vainly tried to think of something +that would excuse her from the unpleasantness of +having her eyes blindfolded again. +</p> +<p> +“Why, yes, I would like to go, only you see I am +very busy just now, helping Mother and doing Pioneer +work, and—” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I see,” interrupted the doctor somewhat +coldly, with a keen glance at Nathalie’s downcast face. +“Then I will tell her you are busy.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, don’t say that,” cried the girl in desperation. +“It sounds—well—tell her I will come some time +later.” She felt the blood rush to her face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I’ll manage to make her understand somehow,” +answered the doctor. Nathalie sensed a note of disappointment +in his voice, and then without further parley +he hurried up the stairs to Lucille. +</p> +<p> +“Mother,” questioned Nathalie a few minutes later, +for she had confided to her all about the adventure at +the gray house, “do you think I ought to visit the +princess again?” She then told what had transpired +between her and the doctor. +</p> +<p> +“You must be your own judge, Nathalie,” replied +Mrs. Page slowly. “I agree with you that it is a foolish +thing for the child’s mother to ask you to visit her +in this way, but perhaps she may be induced to change +her mind. But, after all, Nathalie, it is a small thing +to overcome”—Mrs. Page emphasized the word—“when +you can give the little girl so much pleasure by +going.” +</p> +<p> +“O dear!” thought Nathalie, as she stood waiting +for the doctor to come down-stairs a moment or so +later, “it does seem that since I have become a Pioneer +I am just overcoming things all the time. Funny, +but these things never troubled me before.” “Oh, +Doctor,” she exclaimed eagerly, as that gentleman’s +genial face appeared in the doorway, “I have changed +my mind, and if you like I will go with you to see the +princess.” +</p> +<p> +An hour later Nathalie was greeted with a cry of +delight from her new friend, who clapped her hands +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +and called, “Oh, Mother, she has come!” Nathalie, +imprisoned behind the muffler, rejoiced at heart to think +she had won another overcome. +</p> +<p> +“How do you do?” spoke Mrs. Van Vorst’s low +voice, and then the girl’s hand was taken in a cordial +clasp. “It is so good of you to come; oh, if you could +only realize the joy you have brought into my child’s +life, and mine, too!” she added quickly. +</p> +<p> +“I am very glad,” replied Nathalie simply, as Mrs. +Van Vorst led her to a seat by the couch. +</p> +<p> +“Here, sit by me—no, not on that chair,” commanded +her Royal Highness. Nathalie felt a tug at +her skirt, she was jerked suddenly down, and then two +arms were thrown around her neck. A hand touched +her face, softly at first, and then with a loud, “There, +you are not going to sit with that horrid thing on your +face again, I just hate it!” there came a sudden wrench, +something gave way, the blinders were on the floor, and +Nathalie was looking at the face of the princess with +free, untrammeled eyes! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span><a name='chXV' id='chXV'></a>CHAPTER XV—A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES</h2> +<p> +Nathalie gave a gasp of relief. Oh, it was +good to be rid of that horrible black handkerchief! +Then her blinders faded into the past +as she became aware of the eyes that were gazing into +hers, blue ones with violet shadows, fringed by long +black lashes! +</p> +<p> +The eyes were set in the face of a girl about fourteen, +that had, notwithstanding the pain-tired mouth with +its lines of petulance, a winsome sweetness about it +which partly atoned for a jagged crimson scar running +across one end of the forehead, partly hidden by short, +curly hair which was boyishly parted on one side. +</p> +<p> +But the blue eyes were gleeful just at this moment, +as if their owner was proud of her deftness in slipping +off the handkerchief. She clapped her hands and +cried, “Oh, aren’t you glad to get rid of that horrid +black thing?” +</p> +<p> +Raising herself on her elbow she drew Nathalie’s +face down to hers and whispered, “Don’t say a word +to Mother, but it was all arranged—the doctor and I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span> +managed it—let Mother think it was an accident.” +Before Nathalie could remonstrate the princess called +out with a merry trill in her voice, “Oh, Mother! come +quick, Miss Page’s blinders have fallen off!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie flushed in embarrassed silence as she heard +Mrs. Van Vorst’s step hurrying to the couch. O dear, +what should she do? It certainly was awkward to +have to deceive her. Oh, if the doctor would—but +as she turned around to face the lady in question she +saw that the doctor was not there. +</p> +<p> +“The doctor has gone, he had an important call to +make,” spoke Mrs. Van Vorst hurriedly, as she came +towards the girls and saw Nathalie’s look of distress. +“But never mind, Miss Page, it is all right,” she cried +reassuringly. “It was a shame to keep you muffled up +like that—just for a whim—but if you could understand!” +She looked down at Nathalie apologetically. +</p> +<p> +“I should say it was a whim,” broke in the princess, +“and it just serves you right, too, for making her do +it. Now Miss Page will go away and tell every one +what a horrible-looking thing I am, and it will be all +your fault because you are so afraid any one will see +me, just as if I was a monster of some sort! Oh, +Nathalie—can’t I call you Nathalie?—the doctor +told me your name, and then you know you are not so +much older than I am.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sixteen,” answered Nathalie readily, glad to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +turn the conversation from the blinders, for she saw +that Mrs. Van Vorst was greatly perturbed. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nita, don’t talk that way to Mother,” cried +Mrs. Van Vorst in a pained voice. “You know, dear, +I only did what I thought was right, and it was to save +you, people talk so!” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t care if they do,” broke in Nita angrily. “I +have as much right in this world as they have, even if +I am ugly-looking with this scar and hump, they +needn’t look at me!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie started, for as the girl spoke she deliberately +threw off a soft white shawl that had been thrown +about her shoulders. With a sudden feeling of deep +pity Nathalie recognized that the princess was a hump-back! +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you won’t hate me now, will you?” pleaded +Nita suddenly, as she saw Nathalie’s start of surprise, +“just because I’m humped like a camel.” She caught +the girl’s hand in hers and clung to it with piteous +appeal in her blue eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no,” returned shocked Nathalie. “Why, I +think you are lovely, even if you are—” But the +word was left unsaid, as Nathalie, with sudden impulse, +stooped forward and kissed the red lips. +</p> +<p> +Before she could raise herself, frightened at her own +boldness, two arms were flung around her neck and +Nathalie was squeezed so hard that she thought she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +would smother. “Oh, I just love you!” said Nita’s +stifled voice from her shoulder, “and I’m going to keep +you with me all the time. Oh, Mother,” she wailed +beseechingly, lifting her head, but still keeping Nathalie +a prisoner, “won’t you buy her?” +</p> +<p> +“Buy her!” repeated her mother, who during this +affectionate outburst had stood silently by, a pleased +smile struggling with an expression of dismay at the +girl’s rudeness. “Why, Nita, she is not a horse to be +bought and sold.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I wish she was then,” said the child, for she +was but that, dropping her arms from Nathalie’s neck +and lying back with sudden exhaustion. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, she is going to faint,” cried dismayed Nathalie, +while the mother rushed to the dresser for the smelling +salts. But when she attempted to hold the bottle to +Nita’s nose, she pushed her mother’s hand away crying, +“Take that horrid thing away, and get out of the room; +I want Nathalie to myself!” +</p> +<p> +And the Mystic, the woman always shrouded in gray, +who looked at her neighbors with a cold, formal stare +of aversion, meekly obeyed. She went softly out of +the room and closed the door after her in obedience to +her daughter’s sharp cry, “Do you hear? Shut the +door!” +</p> +<p> +Something within Nathalie burst its bounds, she +could not sit there another minute and hear the girl talk +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +like that to her mother. “Oh, don’t speak to your +mother like that, she is so good to you!” the girl’s +voice trembled. +</p> +<p> +“How do you know she is good?” retorted Nita, +after a short pause of surprise at this merited rebuke. +</p> +<p> +“Why—why—because her face shows it,” stammered +Nathalie, “and then, why she is your mother, +and if I should talk to my mother like that, why—I +should expect her to die then and there.” +</p> +<p> +“Why?” persisted the voice. +</p> +<p> +“Because it would hurt her so,—” Nathalie labored, +she hated to preach—“to think I could be so disrespectful +to her, and ill-bred.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, your mother isn’t my mother; your mother +didn’t shut you up in a dark room so that you tried to +get away.” +</p> +<p> +“Nita!” came in a pain-stricken voice, “don’t talk +that way!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie turned to see Mrs. Van Vorst standing in +the doorway, her face drawn and lined. “I was coming +in to ask—oh, Miss Page, will you come in here +a moment? I should like to speak to you.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie arose quickly, her heart overflowing with +pity for this poor mother who was only too surely +paying the penalty of neglect and anger. “Oh, Mrs. +Van Vorst,” she cried hastily, “do not mind your +daughter, she doesn’t mean to hurt you, she—I think +she is just spoiled, you know.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span> +</p> +<p> +By this time Nathalie had followed Mrs. Van Vorst +into the adjoining room, a sun-parlor, whose glass windows +looked down upon a terraced garden, green with +trees and gorgeous with multicolored flowers, surrounded +by low rolling hillocks or mounds. +</p> +<p> +Nita, as Nathalie left the room, began to vent her +displeasure in shrill, angry shrieks, but her mother, +with set, rigid lips, closed the door softly, and then +turning towards Nathalie began to speak, brokenly, between +deep-drawn breaths. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I have been foolish—I am afraid—in letting +you come to see Nita, but oh, it is so hard for her, shut +up in this house, with only me and the servants. So +when the doctor was telling us about you, Nita pleaded +so to have you come, and I foolishly yielded. But +oh, Miss Page, do not, I beg of you, repeat what you +have seen or heard, don’t mind what Nita says about +me, it is not true; as you said she does not mean all she +says.” The tears were rolling down Mrs. Van Vorst’s +face. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mrs. Van Vorst,” exclaimed Nathalie, tears +misting in her eyes in sympathy with the lady’s grief, +“I know how you feel, but it is all right. I think you +are both lovely, I am sure I have nothing to tell; of +course, I know that your daughter does not mean what +she says, she’s just spoiled.” A sudden thought came +to the girl. “Don’t you think if you were to let her +see people—that is girls of her own age—that she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +would be better? Oh, I am sure she would,” broke +from the girl impetuously, “and it would make her so +happy!” +</p> +<p> +“Do you really think so?” inquired Mrs. Van Vorst +with a note of hope in her voice. “Would it not hurt +her when people said rude things about her?” +</p> +<p> +“But no one would say rude things about her,” persisted +Nathalie determinedly. “Every one would love +her—she’s a dear, so sweet-looking—and then she +would soon get over her spoiled ways; she would learn +by seeing that other girls act differently.” Nathalie +felt that she had spoken incoherently, but oh, it did seem +such a shame! +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know about that,” replied Mrs. Van Vorst, +her face hardening again to the same impenetrable mask +that had puzzled Nathalie the first time she met her. +“Well, we will not discuss it now—we’ll see how +things turn out—only, Miss Page,” she grew stiff and +formal, although a note in her voice betrayed that she +was battling with her emotion, “I should like to ask +you again to keep silent a little longer, not to tell—how +foolish I was—” she broke off suddenly, and then she +added, “of course, you have a right to tell; but let me +explain that what Nita says is not true, she likes to +tease me into getting her way. Sit down—oh—she +has fallen asleep.” Mrs. Van Vorst opened the door +softly and then closed it. “She always does when she +cries that way.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I have been foolish,” she reiterated, “but I +am not a criminal, and it is not altogether pride, because +I have a deformed child, that makes me keep her secluded. +It is because I want to save her, I would give +my life for her happiness, but I can’t—” there was +a hopeless wail to her voice. “That is my punishment!” +And then, as if reminded of what she wanted +to tell Nathalie, she continued more calmly, “It is true +that I shut Nita in a dark room. I punished her—she +has always had those temper spells—I never knew +what to do with her. Some one told me I was too easy +with her, so I put her in the room and when she stopped +crying I thought she had fallen asleep, but oh, she tried +to get out, she said some one was chasing her, and +climbed out on the shed and fell off the roof! She +broke—her back!” Mrs. Van Vorst buried her face +in her hands, but although no sounds came, Nathalie +could see the convulsive shivers that shook her frame. +</p> +<p> +The girl was dumb. What could she say? It was +awful! Oh, but if she didn’t say something she would +be boo-hooing herself in a minute. “But that was not +your fault,” she cried with sudden inspiration. “It +was right for you to punish her. Oh, Mrs. Van Vorst, +I should consider it just an accident that you could not +help.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Van Vorst lifted her face and gazed at the girl +with wide, appealing eyes. “Oh, do you think that? +If I could be led to believe I was not to blame! For +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span> +years I have suffered the tortures of hell, doing +penance.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and making yourself and your daughter +miserable!” Nathalie spoke boldly, she couldn’t help +it, the words came of themselves as it seemed to her. +“But, Mrs. Van Vorst, look at it in another way, perhaps +I should not speak this way to you, for I am just +a girl, but I feel so sorry for you, and Nita, it does seem +such a shame to shut her off from all pleasure just because +an unfortunate thing happened. Why, Mrs. +Morrow says we should regard trouble like clouds that +we can’t blow away unless we fill the atmosphere with +sunshine.” Nathalie came to a sudden stop, afraid she +had gone beyond her depth. But in a moment she +added, “Oh, if you would just think of it as an accident! +Try to make Nita happy, and then you will be +happy, and forget all about it!” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Van Vorst’s eyes grew moist as she cried impulsively, +“Oh, you are a dear girl to talk to me this +way. I shall always remember it, always. Yes, you +are right, I have been miserable and have been making +my poor child so. Oh, I have been wrong!” +</p> +<p> +Before Nathalie could answer, Nita’s voice was heard +shrilly crying, “Mother, I want Nathalie!” +</p> +<p> +“I am coming,” cried the girl, hurrying into the room +and up to the couch. “Did you have a nice little +nap?” she asked cheerily, as she patted the girl’s hand +that lay inertly on the coverlid. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I just dropped off, I always get so tired when +I cry.” +</p> +<p> +“But why do you cry then?” questioned practical +Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +“Why—oh, I cried because Mamma took you +away from me, and now you will be going soon, and +I won’t have had time to talk to you at all.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes you will,” replied her companion, glancing +at the clock. “It is only eleven, I sha’n’t go for another +hour, so start right in and talk.” +</p> +<p> +“But I don’t want to talk,” came the contrary answer. +“I want to hear you talk. Please tell me about +the Girl Pioneers. Did you go on the wild-flower +hike?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes!” was the answer; and then Nathalie’s +tongue flew as she told about the hike, the different +things they did, how she had learned to blaze a trail, +what a delightful companion Dr. Homer had proved, +how she lighted the fire with only one match, about the +Tike’s escapade, and the flower legends. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but the fire, I must tell you about the fire and +the bucket brigade!” she cried, and then followed that +exciting story with all its climaxes, and what fun it +had proved, although, as the girl confessed, she had +been tempted to run away several times. +</p> +<p> +“I just wish I could have seen it all!” exclaimed +Nita regretfully, as Nathalie paused for a rest. “I +should have liked to go on that flower hike, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +flower legends, can’t you tell them to me? I just love +flowers!” +</p> +<p> +“Why yes, perhaps I can,” nodded the Story Lady. +And then in a moment she was animatedly telling about +the Forget-me-not lover, the Dandelion legend, and +then last of all about the spring goddess who brought +the arbutus. +</p> +<p> +“What are you going to do next?” inquired her +listener as Nathalie’s flower stories ended. +</p> +<p> +“We are all busy now getting up entertainments; +that is, we are thinking up ideas for the Pioneer Stunts. +You know, we are anxious to make money for our +Camp Fund, and—” +</p> +<p> +“Camp Fund! what is that?” inquired the girl interestedly. +</p> +<p> +“Why, the Pioneers, that is the Bluebirds, the Bob +Whites, and the Orioles, are going camping this summer, +probably in August, or as soon as we can raise +the money. There are sixteen Pioneers going. Oh, +I am sure we shall have a dandy time! We are to +sleep in tents, but there will be a house or something +for the dining room and kitchen, that is, if we can +get them.” +</p> +<p> +“Where are you going to get the tents to sleep +in?” +</p> +<p> +“Helen and I are to make our own tent, Fred Tyson +is going to help us. It will take an awfully long time, +we are to begin next week. The other tents, well, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span> +some of the girls have their own and then we shall +borrow one or two. Of course, you know, each girl +will have to pay her expenses to camp and back, but +all the other expenses are expected to come out of the +Fund, so you see we shall have a lot of work to do. +We are to charge admission to the Pioneer Stunts.” +And then Nathalie told of the novel way they were to +get ideas, and how each girl was to keep her idea a +secret until after the vote had been taken as to the +best Stunt the night of the performance. +</p> +<p> +“Have you got your idea yet?” inquired Nita +eagerly. “Oh, I just bet your idea will be the best +one of all!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no,” answered Nathalie modestly, “far from +it! I am awfully worried for fear it will be a terrible +failure.” And then she told how she had lost +her idea and was writing up another one. +</p> +<p> +“Well, after you have the Stunts, what are you +going to have?” demanded Nita eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“We want to have a flag drill, that is, if we can get +the ground for it, as we want to have it in the open. +Oh, it will be the loveliest thing! The girls are to +be Daughters of Liberty and carry banners, the little +flags used by the different States and soldiers before +and during the revolution, before we had the Stars +and Stripes. Oh, did I tell you that all of our entertainments +have to be either colonial or patriotic, that +is, something that happened in or belonged to the early +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span> +days of the nation, when all the people were pioneers, +or the children of pioneers?” +</p> +<p> +“When are you going to have the flag drill? Oh, +how I should like to see it!” +</p> +<p> +“I have rattled on so fast I forgot to say that—why—we +are not sure about that, for, you see, we +have got to get a lawn, or grounds that would be suitable.” +Her face reddened, for she suddenly remembered +that it was Mrs. Van Vorst’s lawn that the girls +had wanted, and that she had refused to let them +have it. +</p> +<p> +“You see,” she explained awkwardly, “we want a +place where the people can see us, and then we want +to have booths decorated with our colors—they are +Red, White, and Blue, you know—so we can sell ice-cream. +Each table is to be named after one of the +thirteen States; but there, I don’t believe we can +have it.” +</p> +<p> +“Mamma, come here quick,” called Nita imperiously, +sitting up and peering into the sun parlor where +her mother was seated sewing, “I want you to hear +about the Flag Drill, and oh, Mother, won’t you let +me see it? Oh, please, Mother, I can go all muffled +up, no one will see me,” pleaded the girlish voice +pathetically. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Van Vorst bent over and softly stroked the +golden head as she cried, “Now dear, don’t get excited! +Mother will do all she can for you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span> +</p> +<p> +“You tell <em>her</em> about it!” broke from Nita hurriedly, +as she pulled at Nathalie’s gown. Then falling back +on the couch she exclaimed with determination, “But +I’m going to see it, Mother, yes I am!” +</p> +<p> +Somewhat hesitatingly Nathalie began, but in a moment, +perceiving that her listener was much interested, +she launched forth and told about the Flag Drill in all +its details. +</p> +<p> +“And you are going to use the money you make +for your Camping Fund?” inquired Nita’s mother as +Nathalie finished. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie nodded, “That is, if we can get the right +place to hold it—oh—” she flushed again and then +grew suddenly silent. +</p> +<p> +“Did not one of the Pioneers ask me if I would let +them have my lawn in the rear of the house?” +</p> +<p> +Before embarrassed Nathalie could answer, Nita +interposed excitedly, “Our lawn? Oh, let them have +it, Mamma, let them have it, and then I can see it from +the window, and no one will see me, oh, say yes, +Mamma!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s eyes looked dismay as she heard Nita’s +wailing request. Of course Mrs. Van Vorst would +refuse, but suppose she should think that she had urged +Nita to ask her? +</p> +<p> +“Why, I suppose they could,” answered Mrs. Van +Vorst slowly. “Then, as you say, you could see it +from the window, Nita; yes the Pioneers can have it!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, do you really mean it?” exclaimed Nathalie, +almost as excited as Nita. “The girls will be just +crazy with joy—and—oh, isn’t it funny? I was +one of a committee of three to find a place, and—” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you will not have to look any further,” replied +Mrs. Van Vorst. “If my lawn suits, take it, +child. I am sure I am only too glad to do anything +for the brave girl who has been so kind to my Nita +as to come here and make her happy.” +</p> +<p> +“That is lovely of you,” rejoined the Pioneer, her +eyes glowing, “and can we have it this month, the +fourteenth? That is Flag Day, you know, and we +wanted to have it then.” +</p> +<p> +“Have it whenever you like, my dear. I will tell +Peter to have the grass mowed, and if he can help you +in any way in arranging the tables or anything, I shall +be delighted to let you have his services.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that will be the delightfulest thing!” The +girl’s face radiated sunshine. “It seems just too +lovely to be true!” +</p> +<p> +But the surprise Nathalie held in store for the +Pioneers was almost forgotten in the surprise that +awaited her when after saying good-by to Nita, Mrs. +Van Vorst met her at the foot of the staircase and +asked if she would not come into the reception-room a +minute. +</p> +<p> +“I wanted to speak to you on a little matter of business,” +the lady explained somewhat hesitatingly. Nathalie, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +wondering what terrible thing she had done or +said, followed her silently into the room, where she +again spied her Chinese friend, the mandarin, grinning +at her from the cabinet. +</p> +<p> +“I have been thinking it over, Miss Page—” +</p> +<p> +“O dear,” thought poor Nathalie, “she is going to +change her mind about the drill!” +</p> +<p> +“And I wanted to know—of course this is a business +proposition—” she paused. “You have given so +much pleasure to Nita, I thought perhaps you might +be willing to come regularly every day, say for a +couple of hours.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mrs. Van Vorst,” cried relieved Nathalie, +“that would be just fine! I should be only too glad, +but you know, I have things to do for Mother, we +haven’t any maid at present.” +</p> +<p> +“But would it not pay you to give up these things, +or let some one else do them? It would only be two +hours in the morning,” there was a persuasive note in +her voice, “and of course I would pay you enough to +make it worth your while, and oh, I would give anything +to bring joy into—” +</p> +<p> +She stopped, for there was something in the girl’s +wide opened eyes that made her hesitate. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I would not like to take money just for talking +to Nita—that would hardly be fair—” Nathalie +floundered desperately, for something brought Dick +and his operation to her mind, and she did want so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +badly to earn money. She caught her breath sharply, +opened her mouth, and then said, “Why, I don’t know, +I will see what Mother says and let you know.” +</p> +<p> +“That will be just the thing,” was the reply. “You +can drop me a note as soon as you decide, for Nita will +be anxious, and then we will want to fix the days +and times. If you can make up your mind to do this +for me, Miss Page, I shall feel so indebted to you!” +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie flew post-haste towards home she heard +the chug of an automobile and looked up in time to see +Dr. Morrow sweep past in his car. But he, too, had +eyes, and a moment later had backed his car and was +asking Nathalie if she would like a ride home. The +girl was only too pleased to accept, as she was fairly +brimming over with impatience to tell some one her +two surprises. They had not gone far before the +story was out, and the doctor had heard everything. +</p> +<p> +“Well now, I call that luck,” declared the doctor, +“and of course you said you would accept Mrs. Van +Vorst’s offer?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, no,” answered the girl hesitatingly, “I +should love to do it, but I don’t know that I ought to +take money for it.” +</p> +<p> +“And why not?” queried Dr. Morrow with some +surprise. “Isn’t money as much to you as to other +people?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes,” laughed honest Nathalie; “of course I +would like the money, I am just dying to earn money +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span> +for Dick.” The girl stopped with frightened eyes; +oh, what was she going to tell? “But then it doesn’t +seem exactly right to take money just for talking, and +I don’t know how Mother would feel about it, she +might feel badly.” Nathalie choked, and her eyes +filled with tears as she remembered how hard it was +for her mother to think of even Dick earning money +when he was so helpless. +</p> +<p> +“You haven’t got to if you don’t want to, little Blue +Robin,” declared her friend, who perhaps suspected +how things were. “But I tell you what, friend Nathalie—” +emphatically—“if I had a nice little voice +like a certain Robin I know, with big brown eyes, and +knew how to use those big eyes and that sweet little +tru-al-lee of a voice by telling people stories, or talking +to them—it’s all the same—well, I’d waste no +time in accepting that offer. And then, too, see what +pleasure it would bring Nita and her mother, too, for +that matter. Of course, I’m a man and look at things +from a commercial point of view; ah, here we are!” +And then with a cheery farewell the doctor helped the +girl out of the car and Nathalie walked slowly up the +path. +</p> +<p> +To Nathalie’s surprise, her mother thought as the +doctor did about the matter. She was not hurt at all, +but overjoyed to think that Nathalie was clever enough +to earn money that way. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Nathalie,” she mused, pleasantly, “you can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span> +do lots of things with the money you earn. It probably +won’t be much, but it will give you pin-money, +and a few necessities. Perhaps it will pay your way +to camp!” +</p> +<p> +“Now, Mumsie,” laughed the girl with a trill of +glee in her voice, “remember about counting your +chicks before they’re hatched!” +</p> +<p> +She turned and ran swiftly up-stairs, and after imparting +her good news to Dick, she sat down and +penned her note to Mrs. Van Vorst, all her doubts +and fears at rest. And she knew what she would do +with the money, it came like a flash into her mind as +she looked up and saw Dick plodding through an official-looking +document. +</p> +<p> +After the note was mailed, there were just a few +minutes left to run over and tell Mrs. Morrow what +had transpired in regard to the lawn for the Flag Drill, +and to announce, with joy shining in every feature, +that they could have the drill on the fourteenth. Then +came a few minutes at Helen’s, where the news was +also told, two surprises, Nathalie declared, after she +had unburdened herself to that young lady of the +many things she had been bottling up for the last few +weeks. +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie’s day of surprises was to bear more +fruit, for about five o’clock the postman delivered a +package by parcel post, a big box that had a very +mysterious look about it. “I don’t see what it can +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span> +be?” she soliloquized, as she looked at the address. +And then, “Oh, Mother, do you know where the scissors +are?” as she found that her fingers were too unsteady +with haste to untie the string. +</p> +<p> +Dick, however, after hearing her excited outcry, +had whipped out a penknife. There was a zip, the +string was off, the box slipped out of the paper, and +then the girl, with radiant, mystified eyes, was looking +down at a Pioneer uniform, a jaunty little affair, with +its red tie and red-banded hat to complete the outfit. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t stand there and gape at it any longer, Nathalie,” +imperiously voiced Dick, with an odd gleam +in his eyes. “Look at the card and see who sent it!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span><a name='chXVI' id='chXVI'></a>CHAPTER XVI—PIONEER STUNTS</h2> +<p> +An exclamation escaped dazed Nathalie; and then +a search was started, resulting at last in finding +the card in one of the pockets of the skirt. +Another cry issued from the finder as she read: +</p> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>“To Nathalie, my faithful little nurse and helper.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'>“<span class='sc'>Lucille.</span>”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p> +“O dear!” said the girl with a shamed glance into +the faces surrounding her, “I will never again say that +Lucille is cross—oh, she is a duck of a dear! It is +the very thing I want, too. Now I shall not be the +only Pioneer without a uniform. I must run and tell +Helen!” In another moment she was racing with +mad speed across the lawn, the uniform bulging out +of the half-opened box in her arms. +</p> +<p> +In a short space she came speeding back, crying, +“Oh, Mother, where is Lucille? I must go and thank +her this very minute!” +</p> +<p> +“Up in her room, I think,” spoke up Dick, but Nathalie +was already half-way up the stairs. +</p> +<p> +“Lucille, it was just too lovely of you to think of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span> +me this way!” cried the girl rapturously; and then +before Lucille realized what was going to happen, she +was receiving a hug that threatened to demolish her +entirely. “There, Nathalie Page,” she cried, “that’s +more than enough; please leave just a wee bit of me, +I’ll take your thanks for granted.” +</p> +<p> +“No, you won’t!” persisted Nathalie with another +hug. “I’m here to give them to you in person.” She +loosened her hold so her cousin could breathe and then +began to kiss her softly on the cheek. “Oh, but, Lucille, +it was lovely of you to think of it,” she ended as +she finally freed her cousin, who ruefully began to +twist up a few stray locks that had been pulled down +in the hugging process. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, pshaw, I don’t want any thanks,” Lucille responded +as she finished tucking up her hair. “As long +as you are pleased, it’s all right.” +</p> +<p> +“But I’m serious, Lucille, for you have heaped +coals of fire on my head, I’ll have to ’fess that I was +not a bit pleasant about waiting on you, because, you +see, I had so much to see to with the Pioneer Stunts, +the work, and everything, and then—” +</p> +<p> +“And then,” mimicked Lucille with a mischievous +glint in her eyes, “I’m an awful cross patient; is +that it? But it’s all right, Nat, turn about is fair +play, and if you had felt as badly as I did those few +days, to miss it all, the anticipated good times at +Bessie’s, well, you would have been cross, too.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I know it, and I was worse than you were, for +I should have possessed my soul in patience, but it +was perfectly dear of you to give me the uniform, and +then to be so nice about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’m glad I’m nice,” teased her cousin, “but +run along, child, for I have about forty-seven letters +to get off by this mail.” +</p> +<p> +And Nathalie, with a heart brimful of joy at the +many surprises of the day, was very glad to hurry +away and talk matters over with her mother. +</p> +<p> +“What shall I talk to Nita about?” she lamented +the next morning as she flew hither and thither, getting +her work done in a jiffy so that she could reach +the gray house by ten-thirty, the hour set for the talk +with the princess, as Nathalie delighted to call her. +</p> +<p> +“Mother, can’t you suggest something?” she asked +dolefully as she stooped to kiss her mother good-by. +“I do feel that it will not be right for me to take +money for just chattering nonsense, and Nita won’t +let me tell her stories.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, it does seem as if it was undue extravagance, +but still, if Mrs. Van Vorst thinks you are worth paying +in order to help make her child’s life more enjoyable, +it seems to me I should not worry about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I know, but if I could only tell her stories,” +rejoined the girl, “perhaps I could help her more, for +I could make my stories instructive, about nature, +history, or—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +</p> +<p> +“That is true,” was the answer. And then, as if +reminded by the word history, she said, “Why not +tell her stories about the Pioneer women? You say +she is so interested in the Girl Pioneers. In that way +you could teach her American history.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mumsie, you are a dear,” cried elated Nathalie. +“That is just the thing, how stupid I was +not to think of it! I will stop at the library on my +way home this afternoon. What a help it will be to +me, too, for we are going to have a fagot party, sort +of a good-by to Louise Gaynor. Gloriana! I won’t +have any reading to do for that, for I’ll be posted from +my talks with Nita.” Then she was off down the +walk on her “way to business,” as she laughingly told +her mother. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, tell me all about the Pioneer Stunts!” exclaimed +the princess as Nathalie settled herself for a +cozy chat after her cheery greeting to her new pupil. +Nita’s eyes were sparkling expectantly, and the anticipated +chat with her new friend had brought a tinge +of color to her usually pale face. +</p> +<p> +“We have not had that as yet; it is to take place +to-morrow night—oh, I’ll tell you all about it,” was +the reply. And then, as Mrs. Van Vorst entered the +room with a pleasant good morning, Nathalie demanded, +“Do you not want me to tell stories to +Nita?” +</p> +<p> +“That is for Nita to decide,” was the careless rejoinder. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span> +“I have asked you here to please my daughter, +and if she wants you here just to talk, why, talk +away.” +</p> +<p> +“But I feel as if I ought to instruct her in some +way,” demurred Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +“Do not worry,” returned Mrs. Van Vorst. “You +will be worth all you earn if you only succeed in making +Nita happy for two hours, and give her something +to look forward to when you are not here. Of course, +if you could get something informative in once in a +while, it would do good, no doubt.” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t want any stories,” interrupted Miss Nita +petulantly. “Miss Stitt used to tell me stories by +the yard and I have hated them ever since.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie made no reply; she was thinking how she +could slip in a bit of information without Nita’s realizing +it. “Oh, I will tell you about the flag drill!” +she cried with sudden thought. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, do,” acquiesced Nita, readily falling into the +trap. “I want to know just everything about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you shall,” promptly returned her delighted +teacher, and forthwith she set to define the meaning +of the word liberty. “You know, Nita, when the +Pilgrims and Puritans settled America they came here +to build homes where they could have liberty of conscience, +speech, and action. Of course, you know all +about how these first little settlements grew, until there +were thirteen of them that bade fair to become very +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +populous and wealthy. Well, the King of England, +fearing perhaps that they would grow into a great +nation and take power from him, began to deprive +them of some of their rights and privileges. +</p> +<p> +“The people for a time submitted, but as his tyranny +increased they began to feel greatly depressed, for it +looked as if the liberty that they had been enjoying in +the new land was going to be taken away from them, +and that they were going to be chained like slaves. +</p> +<p> +“Now the first scene in the flag drill represents +liberty—as the Goddess of course—lamenting that +if she can live only at the price of slavery, she would +rather die. So we see her walking up and down the +platform repeating in great agitation the famous words +of Patrick Henry, ‘Give me Liberty, or give me +death!’ +</p> +<p> +“Just at this moment music is heard, and the +Daughters of Liberty enter—” +</p> +<p> +“The Daughters of Liberty—who are they?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, don’t you know that when King George +tried to impose the Stamp Act on the colonists they +rebelled, and there was a great time. Bands of men +were organized all over the country, who called themselves +the Sons of Liberty, and refused to accept the +Stamp Act, and—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, I know all that,” cried Nita impatiently, +“but what did they have to do with these girls who +are to be in the Flag Drill?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span> +</p> +<p> +“Just you wait and you’ll see,” replied Nathalie +somewhat abashed by this practical question. “Well, +these little patriotic bands acted like a whirlwind of +fire, spreading patriotism—the determination not to +submit to the king’s tyranny—all over the land, so +that King George was defeated for a time at least.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, I know all about him,” was the reply, +“Miss Stitt just doted on history, and she drilled me +in American history until I just hated it.” +</p> +<p> +“In 1776,” continued the Story Lady, “seventeen +young girls met in Providence at the house of Deacon +Bowen, and formed themselves into one of these +Liberty Bands, only you see they were just girls like +you and me. They were very industrious and spun +all day making homespun clothes, for they had resolved +that they would not wear any more clothes that +had been manufactured in England. +</p> +<p> +“It is claimed that the clothes worn by the first +president of Brown University in Providence, and the +graduating class, too, on Commencement Day were +garments made by these girls. These young girls not +only vowed that they would not drink tea, because you +see, it all had to come from the mother country, but +they would have nothing to do with any young men +who were not as patriotic as they were, and who were +not willing to follow their example. These bands of +girls were formed all through the colonies and became +known as ‘The Daughters of Liberty.’” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, now I know, but do hurry and tell me what +they did to the Goddess of Liberty!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, in our Flag Drill music is heard; then the +Daughters of Liberty appear on the platform,—there +are to be thirteen of them, to represent the thirteen +states,—all carrying banners.” +</p> +<p> +“What kind of banners?” burst from Nathalie’s +auditor impatiently. +</p> +<p> +“All kinds,” was the answer. “You know, the +first flag used in this country was the English one, +with the red cross of St. George; that was the flag +carried by the <em>Mayflower</em>. After a while it was used +only for special occasions, for the Red Ensign of +Great Britain took its place. But as time wore on, +each little State came to have its own flag or banner, +so that when the Revolution came these State banners +became known as liberty banners. +</p> +<p> +“Some of them were very quaint and grotesque, +with strange emblems and designs—some had rattlesnakes +or pine-trees—and queer inscriptions. A flag +from South Carolina had a silver crescent on it; +another from New York had a beaver; troops from +Rhode Island floated a white ensign with a blue anchor; +while the New England flag bore a pine tree. +But to go back to the Daughters; as they march on +the platform they form a half-circle before the Goddess, +who has retired to her throne, a chair draped +with red. In her hand she carries a green branch,—no, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span> +don’t ask me why, for you will know when you hear +the girls sing the ‘Liberty Tree.’ +</p> +<p> +“When they finish singing, each girl in turn steps +before the Goddess and tells the story of her flag, until +a story has been told about each of the thirteen flags. +Of course, there were a number of these liberty banners, +but we use only thirteen of them. +</p> +<p> +“There! I said I would not tell you any more today, +and I’m not going to. Oh, did I tell you that I +told Mrs. Morrow about your mother consenting to let +us have your lawn? She is perfectly delighted, and at +the next Rally the scribe will write a note to your +mother for the Pioneers, thanking her for her offer.” +</p> +<p> +And then—Nathalie could not remember what +started the conversation in this channel—she was +telling about her brother Dick and his operation, while +Nita listened with big sympathetic eyes, for somehow +she was very much interested in this invalid brother +of Nathalie’s. +</p> +<p> +“You see, it is this way,” rattled on Nathalie. +“Dick must have the operation as soon as possible—and—as +it happens—well, you know Mother’s income +is limited since Father died and we have had to +retrench a great deal. Then to make matters worse, +just at the present time some bonds that Mother owns +are not paying any interest and we feel dreadfully +about it, all on account of Dick. So we are all trying +to be as economical as possible; Dorothy and I have +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span> +a little bank, and every odd nickel we can scare up we +drop it in, and oh! the money your mother is going to +give me for talking to you, why, that’s going in the +bank, too! Dorothy and I sometimes wish that some +magic fairy would come along and turn those stray +cents and nickels into gold dollars, but there, I should +think your head would ache, my tongue has galloped +so hard and fast.” She paused, and with a merry +laugh cried, “I should not wonder if after a while +your mother paid me not to come and talk to you, for +you will get so tired of me.” +</p> +<p> +“Indeed I won’t!” asserted the princess stoutly as +she threw up her arms. There was a mutual hug and +then Nathalie was off, for she had to get dinner and +it would take her at least ten minutes to walk home. +</p> +<p> +A week later Nathalie was flying out of the gate +of the big gray house with something tightly clasped +in her hand. It had been a week of hard work, for +O dear, she had grown tired of talking, and then too, +she had spent some little time in the library hunting +up pioneer women. She had been overjoyed that +morning when Mrs. Van Vorst, who had been secretly +acquainted with the scheme of telling about these +women founders of the nation presented her with a new +book from a New York publisher that gave a number +of interesting details about these dames of early times. +She and Nita had spent the two hours that morning +reading about the New Amsterdam vrouws. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span> +laughed slyly as she hurried along to think how adroitly +she had managed in such a short time to tell her pupil +not only about the Pilgrim and Puritan dames, but +other interesting historical events of those early days. +</p> +<p> +As the girl ran swiftly up on the porch and spied +her mother reading a few feet away, she burst out +with, “Oh, Mother, what do you think Mrs. Van +Vorst gave me for teach—talking, rather, to Nita for +the week? And I’m to have the same every week. +Oh, Mumsie, just guess!” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Page’s eyes smiled into Nathalie’s joyous ones +as she said, “I’m not a good guesser, I’m afraid, +Daughter, but I’ll venture—five dollars?” +</p> +<p> +“Five dollars!” repeated the girl disdainfully. +“Oh, Mother, guess again, it’s more than that,” she +added encouragingly. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’ll have to give it up,” replied her mother +after a short pause, with a regretful shake of her +head. “I told you I was not a good guesser.” +</p> +<p> +“Ten dollars!” burst from happy Nathalie. “Just +think, a dollar an hour, two dollars a day, and ten +dollars for the week! And, Mother, it’s all to be put +away for Dick!” +</p> +<p> +The night of the entertainment arrived, and promised +to be a howling success, as Grace declared, who, +with Nathalie, had been detailed to act as an usher. +They had been kept pretty busy seating the guests, who +had appeared in multicolored gowns, and gay flowered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span> +hats, with here and there a dress coat of masculine +gender which gave quite an air of festivity to the +occasion. +</p> +<p> +The program was opened by Lillie Bell. Attired in +a very quaint colonial gown, she tripped along the +platform, and with well-simulated blushes and much +demureness of manner made an old-time curtsy. +After being greeted with an ovation from her many +friends, she bashfully sidled up to a rather puzzling-looking +instrument on the platform, on which many +eyes had been focussed ever since the raising of the +curtain, and seated herself before it. +</p> +<p> +Upon this old-time spinet she played such ravishing +strains of melody that the hearts of her audience were +captivated, and she was encored again and again. +Louise Gaynor, a dear little colonial dame, now appeared, +and in her tru-al-lee voice—as the girls often +called it—sang some old English ballads, “Annie +Laurie,” “Robin Adair” and several of similar character, +whose celebrity had grown with the years. +</p> +<p> +The second Stunt was the renowned race for the +Forefathers’ Rock, Kitty Corwin as Mary Chilton, +and Fred Tyson as the slow-footed John Alden. A +spinning contest followed, the fair spinners being +colonial dames from Plymouth town, New Amsterdam, +Boston, and Jamestown. The fair maiden of +Plymouth, Priscilla, spun with such deftness and skill +that she not only won the plaudits of those assembled, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span> +but the prize. As she gracefully bowed her acknowledgment +to her friends’ loud clapping, she backed +hastily off the platform. Alas, she backed into John +Alden, who at this opportune moment had appeared on +the stage, with such terrific force that she almost +bowled him over. John, however, to prove that he +was not as slow as the name he had gained, adroitly +caught the falling maiden in his arms and then led the +blushing damsel, Jessie Ford, forward as his captured +prize. +</p> +<p> +Barbara Worth proved quite a heroine in her single-act +comedy on Pioneer craft, the plucking of a live +goose. Mistress Goose, however, not understanding +her part of silent acquiescence, being a twentieth-century +goose and not a pioneer one, mutinied, and as +Barbara came to the end of the couplet, +</p> +<p> + “Twice a year depluméd may they be,<br /> + In spryngen tyme and harvest tyme,”<br /> +</p> +<p> +she escaped from her captor’s clutch and with a loud, +“Quack! quack!” of disapproval flew across the +stage. +</p> +<p> +Barbara, dumb with fright for fear the goose would +fly down among the spectators, gave chase, and then +ensued a regular “movie” as amid loud calls urging +her on in the race, and protestations voiced by the goose +in a clamorous quacking, she chased it about the platform. +Just as Barbara was about to capture her prey +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span> +she tripped on a rug and measured her five feet two +on the floor. But Barbara was game, Fred Tyson +declared to Nathalie as they watched her, and jumping +to her feet she soon captured her featherless fowl, +which, after being shown in its deplumed condition, +was borne from the scene of its torments by the victor. +</p> +<p> +The curtain now rose on “The First American +Wash Day,” a little playlet representing the women of +the Pilgrim colony, with arms bared to the elbows, +rubbing and scrubbing in tubs of foamy soap-suds, +washing clothes, for the noble sires of our nation. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie gave a quick start and her eyes leaped wide +open as she convulsively clutched Grace by the arm, +and then she grew strangely still as she watched the +actors on the stage. The scene was a distinctive one, +as the children of the <em>Mayflower</em> ran hither and thither +gathering boughs, make-believe sweet-smelling juniper, +to place under the tripod from which kettles of +water were suspended over a small fire that simulated +a cheery blaze. +</p> +<p> +As these pioneer mothers washed, and then wrung +out their clothes, slashing them about in true washer +woman’s fashion, some one in the rear of the stage +recited in a loud, clear voice: +</p> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>“There did the Pilgrim fathers</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>With matchlock and ax well swung</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Keep guard o’er the smoking kettles</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>That propped on the crotches hung.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>For the earliest act of the heroes</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span></div> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Whose fame has a world-wide sway,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Was to fashion a crane for a kettle</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>And order a washing-day.”</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'> </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'>“Pioneer Mothers of America.”</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'>By <span class='sc'>Hand W. Green</span>.</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p> +The applause of the spectators testified to the merit +of the performance, and as the curtain dropped, Nathalie, +whose eyes were ashine with a strange fire, +hastened out into the hall. “Oh, it was mean of her! +It is the same as stealing, she knew she had no right +to use it!” were the thoughts that flashed at white +heat through her brain, for the playlet that had just +been enacted was the one she had lost in the library! +</p> +<p> +And the one who had passed it off as her own, the +one who had been the head performer, and who had +recited the verses, was Edith Whiton! +</p> +<p> +On rushed Nathalie straight towards the dressing +room, determined to tell Edith just what she thought +of her, but the sight of a crowd of girls of which Edith +was the central figure brought her to a standstill. +“Of course, Edith, we all recognized you!” “It +was a clever Stunt.” “Well, you have shown you are +a Pioneer, all right!” Many similar pæans of praise +came to Nathalie’s ears. +</p> +<p> +The girl stood still, inwardly raging with indignation, +almost ready to cry with the strife between her +outraged sense of right, and a commonplace little monitor +who whispered, “It would be mean to accuse +Edith of a sneaking act in the very midst of her glorification. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +And then, too,” continued the whisperer, +“you are not really sure that Edith has not some excuse +to offer; there was no name on your paper.” Nathalie +swallowed hard, then her muscles relaxed, and +the hard angry gleam disappeared from her eyes. +Well, Edith might be mean and small, but she at least +would be above her, she would say nothing! +</p> +<p> +With a certain pride that she had risen above doing +what she would undoubtedly have regretted afterwards, +Nathalie hurried into the dressing-room. A +few minutes later as the curtain rose it displayed in +its completed form the second idea that she had spent +so much time in planning. +</p> +<p> +Around the hearthstone in a Dutch kitchen sat a +<em>huys-moeder</em>, busily undressing her two little kinderkins +while she sang the crooning nursery rhyme:<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>“Trip attroup attronjes,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>De vaarken in de boojes,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>De koejes in de klaver,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>De paarden in de haver,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>De kalver in de lang gras,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>De eenjes in de water plas,</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>So grootmyn klein poppetje was.” </p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'>“<em>Colonial Days in Old New York.</em>”</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'><span class='sc'>Earle.</span></p> +</td></tr></table> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span></div> +<p> +Through a window in the back of the cozy kitchen +a blanketed squaw was seen dandling her swaddled +papoose in her arms, as she peered hungrily in at the +glowing fire, and watched the <em>huys-moeder</em> fill the +warming pan with coals, thrust it between the sheets +of the little trundle-bed, and then give her babies some +mulled cider to drink. +</p> +<p> +The tiny figures in their <em>cosyntjes</em>, or nightcaps with +long capes, had just crawled into bed when “tap-toes” +sounded, and the honest mynheer and his good vrouw +hastened to cover the still glowing embers with ashes +for the fire of the morrow. The Dutch curfew had +sounded, which meant that all good simple folk must +hie to bed. +</p> +<p> +This fireside scene in old New York won its merited +applause, and Nathalie, who had been the Dutch +mother, Mrs. Morrow’s kiddies, the kinderkins, and +Fred Tyson, the mynheer, were called before the curtain +to receive the plaudits of their friends. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie was hurrying from the dressing-room, +glad that she was through her long-anticipated Stunt, +and doubly glad that it had been a success, her name +was called. She turned to see Helen, who, with an +anxious face, was peering from the adjoining dressing +room. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, has anything gone wrong?” demanded Nathalie +hastening to the door. +</p> +<p> +“I should say!” exclaimed Helen with woebegone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span> +countenance, “I have left my gun at home, and I +must have it. Oh, I can’t imagine how I could have +been so careless! Can’t you get some one to go and +get it for me? Tell them to hurry, for my scene goes +on in ten minutes.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I’m so sorry,” sympathized Nathalie, “tell me +where to find it, quick, and I’ll get some one.” +</p> +<p> +“It is in the hall just behind the rack! Do hurry, +Nat, I’m just about wild!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie darted away; but alas, she could not find +any one who could go at that moment, every one had +some important duty to perform just then and there. +Even the Scouts, who were always so ready to help +the girls, were missing. “Oh, it is too bad!” bemoaned +the girl. Presently her eyes lighted and in +another instant she had flown up the stairs, seized her +long cloak in the dressing-room, and then sped down +the steps into the garden, and out into the street. +</p> +<p> +Ten minutes, that meant she would have to run +every step of the way to get that gun there in time. +So with the lightness of a bird she darted down one +street, up another, and then—her heart gave a great +leap as she came to the long, lonely stretch of road +skirting the cemetery of the old Presbyterian church. +But on she flew, hardly daring to cast her eyes towards +the tall tombstones that gleamed at her with ghostly +whiteness from the ghoulish shadows cast by the waving +branches of the trees above them. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span> +</p> +<p> +No, she was not afraid of ghosts, but she suddenly +remembered a story she had heard as a little child, of +a young girl who had been waylaid and killed by a +man in a cemetery one dark night. Fiddle! she was +not going to be afraid of a mere story, so with a snatch +of melody on her lips she kept bravely on and soon +left behind her the marble records of the dead. It did +not take but a minute to ring the bell, tell Helen’s +aunt what she wanted, then grab the gun and start off +on her return journey. +</p> +<p> +Oh, she did hate to have to go by that old graveyard, +she would take the other way around; but no, that +would take twice the time and she must hurry! So +nerving up her courage she ran on with the firm determination +to play soldier, and level her musket if +any one assailed her. +</p> +<p> +As she neared the cemetery her breath gave out, +and instead of running by this danger post she had to +walk every step. Determined not to look in the direction +of these ghostly reminders of the past, she pushed +resolutely on. She had almost reached the end of the +long fence when the sudden snap of a twig, followed +by a rustling noise caused her heart to pause in its +beating. A scream escaped her quivering lips, for +there in the bright radiance that fell like a silver veil +over all objects she saw the figure of a man rise from +one of the tombstones near the fence and come towards +her! +</p> +<hr class='fnsep' /> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> + +</p></div> +<p> + “From your throne on my knee,<br /> + The pigs in the bean-patch see,<br /> + The cows in the clover meet,<br /> + The horses in the oat field eat.<br /> + The ducks in the water pass<br /> + The calves scamper through the grass.<br /> + They love the baby on my knee<br /> + And none there are as sweet as she.”<br /> +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span><a name='chXVII' id='chXVII'></a>CHAPTER XVII—LIBERTY BANNERS</h2> +<p> +Nathalie’s eyes dilated with terror, and her +heart pounded with such leaping beats that it +almost choked her. She attempted to run, but +alas, her limbs seemed tied with ropes, and then she +remembered the gun! +</p> +<p> +Just an instant and she had raised it, and with +trembling hands was pointing it at the enemy, who +by this time had lightly vaulted the wooden fence and +was coming towards her. Nathalie’s hand was feeling +for the trigger when, “Oh, don’t shoot!” cried a +voice in serio-comic tone, “I surrender!” Up went +two hands in pretended subjugation. +</p> +<p> +The girl gasped, dropped the gun, and then broke +into hysterical laughter as she cried, “Oh—is—that +you?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is I; Fred Tyson in the flesh!” rejoined +the supposed murderer coolly, as with a stride he was +at her side and, stooping picked up the gun. +</p> +<p> +The reaction was so great that for a moment Nathalie +feared she was going to cry, but controlling herself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span> +by a strong effort she exclaimed, “Oh, I was sure +you were a tramp,” with a nervous giggle, “or a murderer +intent on killing me, and then hiding my body +in the thicket yonder.” She shuddered. +</p> +<p> +“Great guns!” Fred exclaimed as he looked the +gun over. “It is lucky this thing didn’t go off. By +the Lord Harry, how did you come to be carrying it?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, with a long breath of relief that all was +well after her fright, then told Fred how she came +to be near the graveyard at that time. Then suddenly +remembering that she had not a minute to lose, she +cried hurriedly, “Oh, let us go on. I am afraid I am +too late!” +</p> +<p> +“You’re all hunky,” returned Fred calmly. “You +have plenty of time, for I overheard Mrs. Morrow tell +Helen to postpone her Stunt until one of the last.” +</p> +<p> +“But how did you come to be here, may I ask?” +queried Nathalie as they turned to walk up. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I was in the next room and heard Helen tell +you to go and get something at her house. I started +out to offer my services, but some one buttonholed me +for the next Stunt; I had forgotten I was in it. As +soon as it was over I hurried out to find you, but you +had skipped. I rushed after you, missed you, and +then remembering that you would return this way as +it is the shortest, sat down on one of the tombstones +to wait for you. But you’re the stuff, all right, Nathalie +Page, you ought to have a medal for bravery.” +</p> +<div><a name='illus-290' id='illus-290'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i008' id='i008'></a> +<img src="images/illus-290.jpg" alt="Up went two hands in pretended subjugation." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>Up went two hands in pretended subjugation.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span></div> +<p> +He suddenly pointed the gun and then pulled the +trigger. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie gave a shrill scream in a spasm of apprehension, +and jumped to one side. “Oh, please, don’t +do that, it might be loaded, you know!” +</p> +<p> +Fred threw his head back and burst into a hearty +laugh. “Oh, ho, I see you are not as nervy as I +thought,” there was a mischievous glint in his merry +black eyes. And then as if ashamed of torturing the +nerve-racked girl he cried soothingly, “Don’t you fret, +Miss Blue Robin; there isn’t any guess with me, I +don’t take chances. I saw it wasn’t loaded when I +first picked it up, but come, let’s hurry!” +</p> +<p> +“Please don’t tell any one I was afraid!” pleaded +Nathalie, as they hastened on under the swaying +branches of the trees that cast weird, fanciful designs +on the moon-mantled path. “They will think me an +awful coward and tease me unmercifully.” +</p> +<p> +Fred assured her that he would keep mum, and added +that she was not a coward, but a very brave girl. +Then, in response to a challenge to race him to the +Hall, they were off, Nathalie by this time having regained +her usual poise and nerve. She won the race, +for Fred, desiring to be gallant, dropped back a space +or two just at the right time, and thus allowed his +partner to be the victor in this race of two blocks. +</p> +<p> +The gun was quickly delivered to Helen and then +they hurried into the hall in time to see the portraits +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292'></a>292</span> +of Henry Hudson, Edward Winslow, William Penn, +Governor Stuyvesant, and Captain Kidd and Henry +Morgan, two pirates of pioneer fame. These colonial +portraits were produced by their representatives standing +behind a large wooden frame that had been made +by the Scouts, gilded by the Pioneers, and then placed +in front of a dark curtain. +</p> +<p> +Helen’s Stunt proved to be a canvas background on +which was painted a log cabin. At the door of this +pioneer home stood Helen with a baby clinging to her +skirts, pointing a gun at a skulking savage just disappearing +beyond a very fair representation of a clump of +trees. This picture of a mother of the wilderness was +loudly encored, as it was significant of the hardy +courage displayed by the women of those early days. +</p> +<p> +The last Stunt showed the Pioneers in line, each one +with a big red letter pinned to the skirt of her uniform; +the combination making the word “Pioneer +Women.” Giving bird-calls, building miniature log-cabins, +making camp fires, jumping, throwing the lifeline, +as well as making the motions of rowing and +swimming, these and many other activities of the organization +were performed. The girls ended by falling +into line again and singing a farewell Pioneer song. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow now came forward, and after thanking +the audience for their kind attention and aid in +helping make the affair a success by buying tickets and +by their presence, she announced that there would be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293'></a>293</span> +another entertainment, a Flag Drill, to take place on +the fourteenth of that month. It would be held in +the rear of the home of Mrs. Van Vorst, that lady +having kindly offered her lawn for the affair. +</p> +<p> +The faces of the Pioneers, with the exception of +Nathalie’s and Helen’s, expressed unbounded surprise +as they heard this announcement. As Fred Tyson +and two other Scouts passed slips of paper so that each +one present could write her or his opinion as to the +best Stunt of the evening, there was a merry clack of +tongues as each girl queried how and when this wonderful +thing had come to pass. +</p> +<p> +Lillie Bell, who had been watching Nathalie, suddenly +leaned forward crying, “Nathalie Page, I just +believe that you know all about it!” Nathalie did her +best to look bland and innocent when this accusation +was hurled at her, but the query was as a match to fire, +and instantly Nathalie was surrounded by a bevy of +girls, all eagerly demanding that she tell them how it +came about. +</p> +<p> +“O dear, how should I know?” she demanded with +seeming indignation. +</p> +<p> +“There, I told you she knew,” declared the Sport, +who at that moment joined the group. “Her face betrays +her! And then she is on the committee.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie turned and flashed at Edith angrily, “Well, +if I do know I am not going to tell. If you want any +information go and ask Mrs. Morrow.” Then feeling +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294'></a>294</span> +that things were growing desperate and that she might +reveal what she had striven so hard to keep a secret, +she broke from her tormentors and hurried into the +hall. +</p> +<p> +Seeing Helen at that moment she dashed up to her, +and grabbing her by the arm cried, “Helen, the girls +are tormenting me to tell them about the lawn party; +oh, do keep them from asking me again, for I am in +mortal terror that I may tell something that should +not be told just yet.” +</p> +<p> +“All right,” soothed her friend, “don’t you bother +about the girls finding out, I’ll see to them. But +here’s Fred, he wants you to vote. By the way, have +you heard that the Sport’s Stunt has so far the greatest +number of votes, and—” +</p> +<p> +But Helen had been carried off by one of the Scouts, +and Nathalie turned to find Fred at her side eagerly +demanding her vote. +</p> +<p> +“Why don’t you vote for ‘The First American +Wash-Day’?” demanded the young man as he saw +Nathalie hesitate and swing her pencil, lost in abstraction. +“It will win, I think, and it was a good Stunt, +too; well acted out. Edith deserves credit.” +</p> +<p> +“Do you think so?” flashed Nathalie. She colored +angrily. “I do not agree with you. I think—” +She stopped, compressed her lips, and then added +coolly, “I shall vote for Helen, for I consider her +Stunt the best one of the evening.” She wrote the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295'></a>295</span> +name of the Stunt hurriedly, signed her name, and +then handed the card to Fred, who was regarding her +with a puzzled expression on his face. +</p> +<p> +He took the card and turned to go, but seeing that +the floor had been cleared for dancing he stopped, and +swinging about asked Nathalie if he could have the +next dance. Nathalie assented, although she did not +feel in the mood for dancing just at that moment. +</p> +<p> +“You won’t mind waiting a moment, will you?” +asked Fred. “I have got to turn in my cards. Then +I see this is a square dance, and I want a waltz with +you. Are you angry with me?” he asked wonderingly +as he saw that Nathalie’s eyes still gleamed fire +and that her cheeks were bright red. +</p> +<p> +The girl looked up at him absently and then, suddenly +comprehending that she was acting rather rudely +towards this new friend, cried laughing, “Angry with +you? Indeed, no! I <em>am angry</em> with—some one,” +she added bitterly, her glance suddenly falling on +Edith. “But there, return your cards and then we +will dance.” +</p> +<p> +Five minutes later as Fred swung his partner lightly +up and down the hall to waltz time, Nathalie forgot all +the unpleasant jars of the evening in the enjoyment +of the moment. But later, as they hurried out on the +veranda for a breath of fresh air, she remembered how +rudely she had acted and felt as if she ought to make +some kind of an explanation to Fred for her seeming +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296'></a>296</span> +rudeness. Then it suddenly came to her that perhaps +he might think she was jealous of Edith. Oh, no, she +was not jealous—she was willing Edith should win +the highest number of votes, only it did seem a bit hard +to have to give all the glory up to some one else, when it +rightfully belonged to her, and then Edith <em>had been</em> +mean about it. +</p> +<p> +“Please don’t think I didn’t want Edith to win,” she +burst forth as they seated themselves in a cozy corner +where she could see the dancers in the hall. “Only—you +see it is this way, I—” +</p> +<p> +But before she could finish, the Tike came rushing +up all of a whirl crying, “Oh, Nathalie, your Stunt +won! I’m awfully glad!” And she danced up and +down in her delight at Nathalie’s success. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, ‘The First American Wash-Day’ was Edith’s +Stunt,” Nathalie hastened to explain, resolved that she +would be a martyr to her wounded pride with a good +grace. +</p> +<p> +“That didn’t win the highest vote, but your Stunt +did,” retorted Carol jubilantly; “the one with the +old Dutchwoman putting the kiddies to bed. And +that Dutch lullaby—oh, Nathalie, where did you learn +it?” +</p> +<p> +Before Nathalie could answer Carol had skipped +away, leaving the girl with a strange expression on her +face as she stared at Fred with mystified eyes. “Do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297'></a>297</span> +you suppose I really won it?” she demanded after a +pause. “I thought you said Edith’s Stunt was the +winner.” +</p> +<p> +“So I heard,” was Fred’s reply. “But then, Miss +Nathalie, I am awfully glad your Stunt won. It was +a peach, I thought myself, but I heard—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I don’t care about that,” cried Nathalie. +There was a quiver to her voice. “I don’t deserve it; +oh, I have been awfully mean, and yet I have been +calling Edith mean—” She stopped abruptly. +How queerly it had turned out! +</p> +<p> +Catching a rather strange look in her companion’s +eyes she exclaimed, “Oh, indeed I was willing that +Edith should win—I don’t care a snap about it myself—only, +you see it was this way.” She floundered +for a moment and then with a sudden catch in her +breath leaned towards Fred crying, “If I tell you +something, will you swear never to reveal it?” Fred’s +face brightened; he was delighted to think Nathalie +considered him worthy of her confidence, and lost no +time in assuring her of this fact. But the girl was +thinking of only one thing, and that was that she was +going to break her silence in regard to Edith and unburden +herself of what had been causing her a good +deal of discomfort all the evening. Nathalie talked +rapidly and in a few minutes Fred was in possession of +the facts about “The First American Wash-Day,” and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298'></a>298</span> +how it had come about that although the idea was +Nathalie’s, Edith had won the glory of it without the +work. +</p> +<p> +“Say, but you’re game!” declared Fred admiringly, +as Nathalie finished her story. “It was a fine +thing for you not to tell; I don’t blame you for feeling +mean about it. But the Sport had no right to use +it—” +</p> +<p> +“Well, never mind now,” cried Nathalie, “it is all +over with and I am glad I didn’t tell any one but you, +and you won’t break your word, will you? The word +of a Scout, you know,” added the girl archly. +</p> +<p> +Fred laughingly assured her that his word as a gentleman +was sufficient and as binding as that of a Scout. +Then as they discussed the Scout oath, its pledges, and +so forth, Dr. Homer appeared and asked his little hike-mate +if he might have the pleasure of a dance with her. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie smilingly assured him she would be most +happy and then with a good-by to Fred, the quaint +little figure in its queer Dutch cap and flowered gown +followed the doctor into the hall. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +The long anticipated fourteenth of June had arrived, +and the level stretch of green grass with its circling +hillocks in the rear of the gray house was ablaze with +color. Beneath a high arch festooned with the red, +white, and blue—the Pioneers’ color again—stood a +number of merry girls, each one gowned in white with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299'></a>299</span> +a scarlet sash, and a red liberty cap, and holding in her +hand a flag or small banner. +</p> +<p> +Every eye as well as tongue was on duty, as each +girl triumphantly displayed her flag to her comrades, +proudly claiming that it was an exact copy of one of +the liberty banners used by the colonies preceding or +during the Revolution. +</p> +<p> +“Hurrah for the Concord flag,” cried Kitty Corwin, +as she hoisted up a small maroon banner inscribed with +the motto, “Conquer or Die.” “This is one of the +oldest flags in America, for it was the one carried +when the ‘embattled farmers fired the shot heard +round the world’”—she twirled it high in air—“on +the 19th of April, 1775, at the first battle of the Revolution!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but your flag hasn’t the romance that mine +has,” said Edith, ostentatiously waving a crimson flag +fringed at the ends, and with a cord and tassel. +“This is the Eutaw flag and was made by Miss Jane +Elliot. Col. William Washington—he was a relative +or something of little Georgie—when stationed +at Charleston, South Carolina, fell in love with Miss +Jane. One night, after spending the evening with his +lady love, as he bade her good night, she said she hoped +to hear good news of his flag and fortune. Whereupon +the poor colonel was forced to confess that his +corps had no flag. Upon hearing this the young lady +pulled down one of the portières, cut it to the right +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300'></a>300</span> +size, fringed it at the ends, stuck it on a curtain pole, +and then presented it to her gallant lover, telling him +to make it his standard. Of course after that it +brought good luck and won a great victory at Cowpens, +January, 1781, and another at Eutaw Springs the following +September. Forty years later the flag was presented +by the hands that made it to the Washington +Light Infantry of Charleston, for the fair Jane married +the colonel, all right.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, don’t you girls boast too much,” declared +Jessie, “for if it hadn’t been for my flag there wouldn’t +have been any banners of liberty to make you patriotic.” +And Jessie held up a white flag barred with the +scarlet cross of St. George, the flag dear to Merrie Old +England as the flag of the people, and beloved by the +colonists as the ensign that floated from the little ship +<em>Mayflower</em>. +</p> +<p> +As if to supplement Jessie’s declaration, an Oriole +gayly flaunted the Red Ensign of Great Britain with +its canton quartered by the cross of St. George and +St. Andrew. “This is the flag that followed Jessie’s +and was necessarily adopted by the colonists as the flag +of the mother country. It was called the Union flag—the +two crosses signifying the union of Scotland +and England, when King James of Scotland became +king—and remained in use in America until the beginning +of the Revolution.” +</p> +<p> +Grace, who had been impatiently waiting to float +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301'></a>301</span> +her flag, now cried, “Away with your old Johnnie +Bull flags! Mine is worth a hundred of those old +English rags, for it was the first distinctively American +flag used by the Colonies, ‘The Pine Tree Flag of +New England.’” +</p> +<p> +“But it has the red cross on the white canton just +the same,” ventured Jessie, “and it is red, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course it has the cross on it,” quickly retorted +Grace, “for at that time the Colonies still belonged +to England; but if you look, my lady, you’ll see that +pine in the first quarter of the canton, and that is +American all through, every pine on it. It meant that +the colonists, although they were English, had a right +to representation in the mother country and to a symbol +of their own.” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” persisted Jessie, in whose veins flowed a +goodly supply of English blood, “your scrubby old +pine was such a poor representation of that noble tree +that Charles II asked what it represented—and was +told it was an oak.” +</p> +<p> +“Come, Jessie,” laughed Helen, “that story is a +back number. Every one can guess without much +effort that the man who told that yarn to the king was +a New Englander. He wanted to gain favor with +Charles and bluffed him a bit, trying to make out it +was a model of the royal oak in which his majesty +took refuge after the battle of Worcester.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, stop discussing the merits of that old pine and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302'></a>302</span> +look at my banner,” sang out Louise Gaynor, shaking +her flag furiously to and fro so as to get the attention +of the girls. “This flag is the Crescent flag and +stands for the bravest of the brave. Now listen, and +you will all understand what true heroism means.” +</p> +<p> +The girls, impressed by the Flower’s declaration, +grew silent, and gazed curiously at a red banner with +a white crescent in the upper corner near the staff. +“This flag was designed by Col. Moultrie of the Second +Carolina Infantry in 1775. During the siege of +Charleston when the flag was shot down, Sergeant +William Jasper at the peril of his life recovered it, +and held it in place on the parapet until another staff +was found. In 1779, at the assault on Savannah, it +was again shot from its holdings. Two lieutenants +sprang forward and held it in position until they were +killed by the enemy’s bullets. Jasper again sprang +forward and held the colors up until he, too, was riddled +with bullets, and fell into a ditch. As he was +dying he seized the flag in his hands and cried, ‘Tell +Mrs. Elliot’—she was the wife of one of the majors—‘that +I lost my life supporting the colors she gave +our regiment.’” +</p> +<p> +Barbara, who was usually so placid and mild, now +grew quite intense as she pointed to her flag, the Cambridge +flag, claiming that it was the first flag on this +side of the water to float the red and white bars. It +signified, she said, that although the colonists were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303'></a>303</span> +willing to return to the rule of the English, they were +a body of armed men fighting for just and equal rights +with their brothers who had crossed the sea to whip +them into submission. “But they didn’t,” ended +Barbara with triumphant eyes. “And this flag, also +known as the Union flag—meaning that the colonists +stood as a man in their desire for the right—was +displayed by Washington in his camp at Cambridge, +January 2nd, 1776.” +</p> +<p> +“Now let me have a chance,” pleaded Nathalie, who +had been impatiently waiting to show her design for +some time. “My flag has a story, too.” She held up +as high as she could a white flag with a rattlesnake in +the center. It bore in black letters the name, “The +Culpeper Minute Men of Virginia,” the snaky slogan, +“Don’t Tread On Me,” and the famous words of its +commander, Patrick Henry, “Liberty or Death!” +</p> +<p> +“Do you see that rattlesnake?” continued Miss +Nathalie, as she brought her flag to a standstill and +pointed to the snaky emblem. “That has a story—” +</p> +<p> +“Pooh,” interposed Edith, who was jealously +guarding her declaration that her flag was the most +beautiful because it had a story. “I don’t see any +story about that snaky old thing. Ugh, I never could +understand why so many flags had that design.” +</p> +<p> +“I will tell you why,” declared Nathalie, “because +I have looked it up, and—” +</p> +<p> +“But you are not the only one who has looked up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304'></a>304</span> +flags,” chimed Jessie, “for my eyes were just about +ruined trying to get a merit badge for proficiency in +flag history—” +</p> +<p> +“And for deftness and skill in making our flags,” +broke in a Pioneer from the Bob White group. +</p> +<p> +“I beg your pardon, girls, I know you are all very +wise on the subject of flags this morning,” rejoined +Nathalie good-naturedly, “but do you know why the +rattlesnake was chosen as an ensign?” +</p> +<p> +She waited a moment, but as no one seemed to know +she went on. “The rattlesnake is to be found only +in America; my authority is Benjamin Franklin. It +is the wisest of the snake family, therefore a symbol +of wisdom. Its bright, lidless eyes never close, this +signifies vigilance. It never attacks without giving +due notice, which meant that the American colonies +were on the square. Each rattle is perfect, while at +the same time it is so firmly attached to its fellows that +it cannot be separated without incurring the ruin of +all; each colony was a complete unit in itself, and yet +it could not stand unless it had the support of the +others. As it ages, the rattles increase in numbers, +which meant that it was the fervent desire of the people +that the colonies should increase in numbers with +the years.” +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie finished her little lecture, Helen, with a +sudden movement, shouldered her flag like a musket, +and parting the group of girls, marched jubilantly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305'></a>305</span> +down the center, crying, “Oh, girls, you have had +the floor long enough to tell of the beauties and +glories of your paltry banners, but let me tell you, +not a flag has won the honors and glories that mine +has. Hurrah, girls, for Old Glory!” she ended with +a triumphant wave of the Stars and Stripes above +their heads. +</p> +<p> +As if inspired by the sight of the cheery banner so +gallantly flung to the breezes by their comrade, the +girls with one accord broke into the flag cheer: +</p> +<p> + “Hear! hear; hear Girl Pioneer!<br /> + For flag so dear give a cheer!<br /> + For the bars that are white and red,<br /> + And stars on blue overhead<br /> + We honor thee with a cheer!<br /> + Hurrah! Hurrah! Girl Pioneer!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +Before the echo of the cheer had died in the distance +Nathalie cried, “Oh, girls, the first signal!” Immediately +these little patriotic Daughters of that which +every one holds dear fell into line, and with flags upheld +fastened their eyes on a small platform that had +been erected in the center of the lawn draped with the +national colors, where the Goddess of Liberty had just +appeared. Holding up a green branch in her hand she +began to walk agitatedly up and down the stage, pausing +abruptly every moment or so to peer to the right +or left, as if watching for some one. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly she halted, and with the dramatic gestures +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306'></a>306</span> +of Lillie Bell—for it was she—cried in mournful +tone, “‘Is life so dear, or peace so sweet as to be purchased +at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, +Almighty God! I know not what course others may +take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me +death!’” +</p> +<p> +As the tragic intonation of her voice ceased, the +band—composed, by the way, of a number of Scouts—burst +forth with that old melody, “The Wearing +of the Green.” This was another signal, and the girls +waiting under the arch began to march slowly towards +the stage, while the Goddess in feigned mystification +moved quickly from side to side with her hand held +to her ear, as if trying to ascertain whence came this +martial tune. +</p> +<p> +But on came the Daughters of Liberty with flashes +of white and red, and with banners of many designs +and devices. They presented such a brilliant showing +that the audience seated in rows on the circling mounds +broke into loud applause, which burst into enthusiastic +cheers of greeting, as in the bright glare of the sunlight +they perceived Old Glory floating far above the +heads of the banner bearers as they proudly marched +across the green. +</p> +<p> +When the Goddess perceived this procession of fair +damsels she stood apparently in a maze for a moment, +and then slowly retreated backward until she stood on +the scarlet draped dais with its throne. As the thirteen +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307'></a>307</span> +maids of freedom filed slowly on the platform, forming +a half circle before the Goddess, the band struck +into that old-time air, “The Liberty Tree,” and a second +later every Daughter had chimed in and was singing: +</p> +<p> + “In a chariot of light from the regions of day<br /> + The Goddess of Liberty came;<br /> + Ten thousand celestials directed the way,<br /> + And hither conducted the dame.<br /> + A fair budding branch from the gardens above,<br /> + Where millions and millions agree<br /> + She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love,<br /> + And the plant she named Liberty Tree.”<br /> +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308'></a>308</span><a name='chXVIII' id='chXVIII'></a>CHAPTER XVIII—THE PRINCESS MAKES TWO MORE FRIENDS</h2> +<p> +“And the plant she named Liberty Tree,” sang +Nita blithely up in the window of the sun +parlor, where she sat with her mother and +her old Scotch nurse, Ellen, watching the brilliant scene +being enacted down on the lawn. +</p> +<p> +As the last verse ended—and there were four—Helen +stepped before the Goddess, and after saluting +told in a few words how the brave pioneers had +brought to this land a tiny spark which had flamed into +the sacred fire of Liberty. As time wore on, trampled +by the sons of Tyranny, it was in danger of being +stamped out, when the daughters of these pioneers fled +to its aid in their great fight for the right, and by their +bravery and heroic self-denial had revived the sacred +fire. The ensigns now floating before her were the +signals of their success in making this land, “The +Land of the Free and Home of the Brave!” +</p> +<p> +An expression of regret flitted across Nita’s face +as she realized that she could not hear the words +Helen was speaking, but in a moment, remembering, +she cried, “But I have them, Mamma, for Nathalie +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309'></a>309</span> +not only taught me the words of the songs, but wrote +down for me the speeches of the girls. Ah, Helen is +telling the Goddess how the Pilgrims came to this land +and planted the Liberty Tree. Of course they did not +really plant it, you know, only in their hearts, for they +were determined to have liberty of conscience, speech, +and action. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, and there’s another daughter speaking to the +Goddess. See, she carries the flag that came over in +the <em>Mayflower</em> with the Pilgrims.” Then Miss Nita, +finding she had an appreciative audience in her mother +and Ellen, rattled on, highly pleased to think she was +giving them such good entertainment. She repeated +the words of each fair daughter as she displayed her +trophy of liberty, and could clap as enthusiastically as +the spectators watching from the hillocks in the distance. +Mrs. Van Vorst, as she heard her daughter’s +words and witnessed her joy, entering with as much +zest and spirit into the patriotic little drill as the Pioneers +smiled in attune with the invalid, showing more +enjoyment than she had done for years. +</p> +<p> +“There’s the flag of Bunker Hill; it is just like the +Pine Tree flag, only it is blue instead of red,” exclaimed +Nita. “And, oh, Mother, see, there’s the real +Liberty Flag with its pine tree, and motto, ‘An Appeal +to Heaven.’ Look quick! that’s the Markoe flag! +See, it is yellow and has thirteen stripes of blue and +silver. Nathalie said this flag was the first one on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310'></a>310</span> +land to float stripes, and that it was the flag carried +by the Philadelphia Troop of Light Horse when they +escorted Washington to New York. And that crimson +silk flag is the Casimir flag; it belonged to Count +Casimir. He was the son of Pulaski, who perished in +a dungeon for advocating the cause of liberty. The +Count came to America and organized a corps of cavalry +at Baltimore, and when the Moravian nuns heard +of it they presented him with that flag. But, oh, +Mother, the poor Count died after all; he was shot at +the siege of Savannah in 1779.” +</p> +<p> +Ellen, the old Scotch nurse who adored her invalid +charge, and who had always taken care of her from +the time she was a wee tot, was deeply stirred as she +saw how Nita entered into the new life that had suddenly +been opened up to her, and her face fairly beamed +with gratified pride as she heard her repeat the songs +and speeches of the girls in the playlet. +</p> +<p> +When the last speech ended, the strains of Yankee +Doodle were heard, and presently a Scout in the uniform +of a Continental soldier appeared on the platform +carrying a draped flag. After saluting the +mother of Freedom he planted his pole in the center of +the circle of Liberty maidens, and the next instant +each one had caught up one of the red, blue, and white +streamers that hung from it, and were swinging gayly +around, singing “The Red, White, and Blue.” +</p> +<p> +This song was followed by the “Battle Cry of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311'></a>311</span> +Freedom,” and then the soldier, saluting the Goddess +again in a short speech, said he desired to present to +her an emblem, the outgrowth of the labors of the +Sons and Daughters of Liberty. The ensign that +stands for everything that is just, true, and progressive, +the symbol of the sovereignty of Civilization, the banner +that had been unfurled in more movements for the +protection, the liberty, and the elevation of mankind, +than any ensign that ripples to the four winds of +Heaven. +</p> +<p> +Oh, no, the little company up in the window didn’t +hear all these words from the lips of the soldier, but +from Nita as she read them softly from her paper. +But they did see the signal given by the soldier, and +clapped with joy when each fair daughter pulled her +streamer, the red drapings fell from the pole, and Old +Glory stood revealed. And as the colors swayed +softly in the gentle breeze they joined with patriotic +fervor as the girls and audience broke into “The Star +Spangled Banner!” +</p> +<p> +The Flag Drill was over, and the girls, breaking +ranks, were soon scattered here and there over the lawn +in groups, as they stood receiving the congratulations +of their friends on the success of the entertainment. +It was but a moment or so, however, and the girls had +all rushed back to duty, and each one with a scout was +serving ice-cream and cake to the buyers at the gayly +festooned tables under the trees. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312'></a>312</span> +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, nerve and bone tired, was wishing that she +could sit down if only for a moment, when her eyes +suddenly grew bright with thought, and the next second +she had darted across the grass crying, “Oh, +Grace, don’t you think it would be nice if we could +take some cream and cake up to Nita and her mother?” +</p> +<p> +“Nita?” repeated that young lady, who had never +heard the name before. “Why, what do you mean?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie started. “Oh, why, to be sure, I forgot +to tell you about her, but Mrs. Morrow thought best +to—” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie broke off in despair as she realized that +Grace knew nothing about the princess in the tower +and the many other happenings at the gray house, only +that its owner had consented to allow the girls to use +her lawn. +</p> +<p> +“Why, you know Nita is Mrs. Van Vorst’s daughter; +she was the one who got her mother to let us have +the lawn. She’s just lovely, I have been going to see +her every day for—” +</p> +<p> +At this moment Ellen, her face glowing with pleasure, +touched Nathalie on the arm as she cried, “Oh, +Miss Nathalie, Mrs. Van Vorst has sent me to ask you +to come up and see Miss Nita, and to bring two of +your friends with you!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie stared a moment as if not comprehending +what Ellen had said, and then, “Oh, Ellen, do you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313'></a>313</span> +mean that Mrs. Van Vorst wants me to come up to +see Miss Nita and to—” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, that is just what I mean, Miss,” rejoined +Ellen, evidently enjoying Nathalie’s amazement. +“Miss Nita wants to meet some of your Pioneer +friends. Bless the child, Miss Nathalie, but you and +your friends have brought real sunshine straight to the +heart of my bairn. Bless you for it!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie smiled and nodded as she answered, “All +right, Ellen, I’ll be right up!” Then, as the old nurse +disappeared among the throngs on the lawn Nathalie +turned to Grace, who was standing in open-mouthed +astonishment at this sudden turn in the day’s +doings. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Grace, will you go with me? Didn’t I tell +you Nita was lovely?” Then seizing the girl by the +arm she swept her across the grass to where Helen was +standing talking to her brother. +</p> +<p> +“Helen,” she panted, “I want you to come with me +to see Nita. Mrs. Van Vorst has sent for me to come +up and says for me to bring two of my friends. Will +you come?” +</p> +<p> +“Come!” exclaimed Helen, “of course I will. I +have been on the point of expiring with curiosity ever +since you told me of your adventure at the gray house.” +</p> +<p> +“Adventure?” repeated Grace. “Oh, Nathalie, you +have not told me about it!” in an aggrieved tone. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314'></a>314</span> +</p> +<p> +“But I’m going to! Oh, but I must hurry and get +the cream ready or it will be too late!” She started +to run, but after a few steps turned back, and waving +her hand at the girls, called, “Helen, you tell her while +I am getting the tray.” +</p> +<p> +“But I’m coming to help you,” replied that young +woman. “You come, too,” she added, catching Grace +by the arm. But to her surprise Grace pulled away +from her with the exclamation, “Oh, Helen! I +wouldn’t go in that house for a mint of money! Why +didn’t you know? No, I’m not to tell,” she ended +mysteriously, “but you go,” she added, “that is if you +are not afraid.” +</p> +<p> +“Afraid?” echoed her companion in amazement, +“why should I be afraid, surely you don’t think any +one could harm us as long as Nathalie has been there +and come away safely?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know,” hesitated Grace, “I!—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls, I have the tray all ready, but you will +have to help me carry it. Do come on, for I do not +want to keep Mrs. Van Vorst waiting too long!” Nathalie +was back again. +</p> +<p> +“Grace says she is afraid to go,” explained Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Afraid!” repeated Nathalie bewildered. “What +are you afraid of?” she demanded abruptly turning towards +her friend. +</p> +<p> +“Why Nathalie, don’t you remember that day +we—” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_315'></a>315</span> +</p> +<p> +Nathalie continued to gaze at her blankly, and then +her face broke into a smile as she remembered the day +she and Grace had run away from the gray house +afraid of the crazy man. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Grace,” she cried with merry laughter, “that +was the best joke on you and me, for, O dear, why, +Grace, it wasn’t any crazy man at all, it was only a +cockatoo!” +</p> +<p> +The long kept secret that had troubled Nathalie so +much at first was out at last, and she and Helen, who +had been told about that when her friend’s silence was +first broken as far as she was concerned, broke into +prolonged laughter at the richness of the joke. +</p> +<p> +“A cockatoo?” exclaimed Grace incredulously, and +then annoyed at the girls’ merriment she added crossly, +“Oh, I do wish you would explain what is so funny, +I think it real mean of you both to laugh that way!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is mean,” added Nathalie, stifling her laughter +as she saw the irate expression on her friend’s face. +“But, Grace, it was funny. I would have told you all +about it before—that is how I found out—only I +had sworn not to tell. But if you will promise not to +reveal what I am going to tell you—honor bright—” +this in answer to the girl’s nod of assent, “I will tell +you the mystery of the gray house!” +</p> +<p> +It was not long now before Grace heard the long +story of how Nathalie had come to go to the house, +how she had found out about the cockatoo, the star +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_316'></a>316</span> +part she had played with the princess, and the many +other happenings that had taken place within the last +few weeks. +</p> +<p> +“But is the poor thing such a terrible monster?” demanded +Grace in ready sympathy. +</p> +<p> +“A monster?” ejaculated Nathalie in amazement. +“Who said she was a monster?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, don’t you remember? Edith—” +</p> +<p> +“Now, see here,” exclaimed Nathalie stamping her +feet angrily, “don’t tell me another word of what the +Sport says. I am just beginning to hate that girl, she +is always saying and doing things she has no—” +She stopped suddenly as it came to her in a conscience-stricken +flash that Pioneers were never to say evil of +any one. +</p> +<p> +Helen, seeing the strange expression in her eyes and +noticing how her color was coming and going in +flashes, cried, “Oh, Nathalie, what is it?” +</p> +<p> +“It is nothing,” replied the girl quickly in a choked +voice, “I just stopped—because—well, I remembered +that one of the Pioneer laws is not to speak evil +of any one. I’m going to keep mum after this, but +that girl,” her eyes shadowed again, “does provoke +me so!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nathalie, you are a dear girl,” exclaimed +Helen, putting her arm around her friend and giving +her a hug. “I wish we were all as careful about keeping +the Pioneer laws as you, but gracious, child, don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_317'></a>317</span> +repent with such dire woe, for none of us are saints, +and the Sport is trying, the Lord knows. But explain +to Grace about your friend.” +</p> +<p> +“No,” said Nathalie determinedly. “I am not going +to say another thing, only that Nita is not a monster, +only a humpback, and—but there, if you want +to know about her, come and see her.” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” spoke up Helen, “if we are going to see +the Princess in the tower—how fairylike that sounds—we +had better go. And then, as seeing is believing, +we’ll go and tell the Sport all about it, and stop that +funny little tongue of hers that creates so much trouble +at times.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that will be just the thing; Helen, you are a +dear!” cried Nathalie. Then the three girls hurried to +the ice-cream table for the tray. Hastily taking it they +pushed their way through the crowd, coming and going +about the tables, to the porch, where Ellen relieved +them of their burden and then conducted them to the +sun parlor, where Mrs. Van Vorst and Nita sat waiting +to receive them. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mrs. Van Vorst,” cried Nathalie as she +greeted that lady and her daughter, “it was lovely of +you to allow me to bring my two friends to meet Nita. +This is Miss Helen Dame,” she continued drawing +Helen to her, “and this is another Pioneer friend, Miss +Grace Tyson.” +</p> +<p> +“I am very glad to meet you, Mrs. Van Vorst,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_318'></a>318</span> +broke in Helen, “for I feel that we are very much indebted +to you for allowing us to use your lawn.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” chimed Grace, as she shook the lady’s hand, +“we all feel that you have given us a lovely afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +“I think the indebtedness is on my side,” smiled the +lady, looking down with pleased eyes at the two girls, +as they stood glancing shyly at her, their white dresses +and red caps making them appear unusually pretty. +“But let me make you acquainted with my daughter,” +she added, leading them to where Nita sat, her blue +eyes almost black with the excitement of meeting these +two new Pioneers, while her cheeks, usually so pale, +were flushed with a delicate pinkness. +</p> +<p> +After the general hand-shaking was over and the +little party had gathered closer to the window to admire +the gay-colored flags that fluttered, one from each +table, showing with unusual vividness between the +green foliage and light dresses of strollers across the +lawn, Nathalie asked Nita how she had liked the drill. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nathalie,” rejoined the princess enthusiastically, +“it was just the prettiest sight, and I told Ellen +and Mamma every flag story, didn’t I?” Then suddenly +remembering the two strangers, she relapsed into +a shy silence and crouched back in the friendly shelter +of her chair as if with the sudden thought of her deformity +and the fear that the girls would see it. +</p> +<p> +But Grace and Helen were not thinking of the “awful +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_319'></a>319</span> +hump” as Nathalie had defined it, but of the pale +sweet face with the lovely violet eyes that were shining +like bright stars. +</p> +<p> +“I am awfully glad you liked it,” said Helen, suddenly +recalled to her duties as the leader of one of the +groups. “We tried to make it look as festive as we +could with Uncle Sam’s old liberty banners, but if it +had not been for the lawn we should not have been able +to have the drill.” +</p> +<p> +“You are all very kind to thank me so prettily,” said +Mrs. Van Vorst, “but, as I said, I think you have given +me and my little daughter more pleasure than we have +given you. The poor child sees so little of life, as we +are so secluded here behind these high walls.” +</p> +<p> +In a few moments, as Nita’s shyness began to wear +off, the little group was chatting in the most friendly +way, talking over the incidents of the drill, the Pioneers +telling about the nice little sum they had made +for their camp expenses, while they all ate their cream +and cake. Ellen, like a good soul that she was, had +hastened out to the lawn and brought enough of those +delicacies to provide for the whole group. +</p> +<p> +Helen’s remark about the Camping Fund started a +new subject of conversation and opened the way for +Nita to ask many questions about this summer dream +of the Pioneers. “Oh,” she declared at length, “I +just wish you could come up to Eagle Lake and camp +on its shores. We have a bungalow up there, you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_320'></a>320</span> +know, and it is just a glorious place. But it gets so +lonely after a while, with nothing but the birds and +squirrels to talk to. Oh,” she ended suddenly with a +little sigh, “if I was only well and strong, then I would +be a Pioneer, too.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but you—” interrupted Nathalie, and then she +paused. She was going to say “why you can be,” but +the quick remembrance of the hump and the delicate +face of the girl caused her to halt. With quick readiness +she changed to, “Oh, but you would enjoy seeing +one of our cheer fires; they are an inspiration for all +kinds of dreams with the burning logs and glowing +embers.” +</p> +<p> +“You ought to see the fagot party we are going to +have Monday night,” chimed in Grace. “It is to be +a burning send-off to one of the girls who is going +South to live for a while.” +</p> +<p> +“A fagot party?” exclaimed Nita with interested +eyes. “Oh, do tell all about it; it sounds, well it +sounds fagoty. What do you do?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, we use small fagots tied into bundles,” explained +Helen, “that is, after we have started a good +blazing fire. Each girl has her fagot bundle and as +soon as one burns up she throws hers on—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but you haven’t told the best part,” broke in +Grace. “While each girl’s fagot bundle is burning she +tells a story, which has to be ended by the time her +fagots are burned.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_321'></a>321</span> +</p> +<p> +“Does she have to stop on the very second?” questioned +Nita. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, she begins as soon as she throws her bundle +on the blaze, and keeps on talking until it is all burned +up and falls to a shower of fiery sparks. But of course +she has to keep a sharp look out on the burning fagots, +so as to end her tale with a good climax as the fagots +fall,” explained Helen. +</p> +<p> +“Where are you going to have it?” questioned Nita, +a shade of disappointment on her face as she thought +how she would like to see this fagot party. +</p> +<p> +“We haven’t found a place yet,” answered Grace, +who was one of the committee, “but we are working +hard to have it down in Deacon Ditmas’s lot, near the +cross-roads.” +</p> +<p> +“Why can’t you have it on our lawn?” exclaimed +Nita timidly, turning appealing eyes towards her +mother. “Oh, Mother, do say they can have it here, +and then I can see it.” +</p> +<p> +The girls were so amazed at this sudden and unexpected +proposition that they all remained silent, Nathalie +in a spasm of dread for fear that Mrs. Van Vorst +would think that the Pioneers were a great nuisance +being thrust upon her hospitality in this abrupt manner. +But she was quickly undeceived as the lady rejoined +hastily, “Why, I should be most pleased to let +the Pioneers have the lawn for the fagot party. It +would give Nita great pleasure, I am sure.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_322'></a>322</span> +</p> +<p> +“That will be just lovely!” cried her daughter, +clapping her hands delightedly. “And you will take +it, won’t you?” she coaxed pleadingly, suddenly stopping +her demonstrations as if realizing that her plan +might not be pleasing to the girls. +</p> +<p> +“I think it would be dandy,” answered Grace. +“What do you girls think?” turning towards them as +she spoke. +</p> +<p> +“Why, I think it would be fine,” added Helen, +“and—” +</p> +<p> +“But oh, Mrs. Van Vorst, it will destroy the grass +on the lawn,” spoke up Nathalie doubtfully, “for our +cheer fires always leave a blackened burnt place on the +ground.” +</p> +<p> +“That will not make any difference,” was the prompt +rejoinder from that lady. “Peter can rake it off and +if necessary he can resod it. I shall only be delighted +if you young girls can use it, and the favor will all be +on my side—” her voice trembled slightly—“for it +will give my little daughter so much pleasure.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nita! you are walking, you will fall and hurt +yourself!” exclaimed Nathalie excitedly, as she entered +that young lady’s room the Monday after the +Flag Drill, and found her walking about with a coolness +and ease that she had never before seen her +display. +</p> +<p> +Nita broke into merry laughter at the look of dismay +on her friend’s face. “Of course I’m walking, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_323'></a>323</span> +the doctor says I can, so there!” There was a triumphant +toss of her head at Nathalie. +</p> +<p> +“But you have never walked, that is not much since +I have known you!” cried the puzzled girl. +</p> +<p> +“And you thought I never could,” replied the little +lady independently. “Well, you are wrong. I used +to walk when I felt able, sometimes quite a little. +Then a crank of a doctor frightened Mamma to death +by telling her I should always lie on my back or side, +and for years I have been nailed like a mast to a ship +on that couch. But Dr. Morrow says if I have the +strength I should walk, and that my strength will come +gradually. Oh, who knows what I can do? Walk off +this old hump, I hope!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you dear thing!” cried Nathalie, rushing to +her friend and giving her a squeeze. “Isn’t that just +the loveliest thing? What nice times we can have after +a while if you can walk, and Dr. Morrow, I always +knew he was a dear!” +</p> +<p> +“There, don’t squeeze me to bits, but tell me all the +things that have happened since the Flag Drill, and oh, +Nathalie, your friends are dears. The one you call +Grace is sweet, and the other one, why, she isn’t so +pretty, but she looks a good sort.” +</p> +<p> +“She is something more than a ‘good sort,’” answered +Nathalie swiftly, “she is a gem, she is so +clever and sensible, and, oh, what a friend she has +proved to me! She has a wonderful way of helping +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_324'></a>324</span> +you over the hard places. But there, I will tell you +what Grace said about you, she said you were a sweet +little cherub—and—” +</p> +<p> +“Just arrived from angel land I suppose, with wings +all sprouting,” ventured Nita sarcastically. “Well, +she ought to see me when I’m mad. Cherub indeed! +What did the other one say?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie hesitated; her face flushed, “Oh—why, +she thought you were a dear, but said you were a bit +spoiled.” +</p> +<p> +Nita looked surprised for a minute; then her eyes +flashed as she cried with a defiant lift of her head. +“Well, I guess if Miss Sensible had a hump to carry +about that could never be taken off, no matter how it +hurt, and had to be shut up behind walls with nothing +to see or any one to talk to, she’d be spoiled, too!” +There was a quiver of the chin as the red lips closed +tightly in the effort not to cry. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you poor little thing, I should not have told +you that, for really, Helen thought you were lovely!” +Nathalie regretted with all her heart the impulse that +had prompted her to tell the truth to Nita. It seemed +unkind but it was really spoken in the hope of doing +her little friend good. +</p> +<p> +But Nita pushed her away, “Oh, don’t pet me!” as +Nathalie attempted to caress her, “I was only teasing. +Yes, I know I’m spoiled, but there, do tell me +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_325'></a>325</span> +the news, for your face shows that you are just dying +to tell me something worth the hearing.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, yes, I have <em>some</em> news—that’s slang, but +O dear, it does mean so much sometimes,” laughed +Nathalie as she and Nita seated themselves on the +couch. “Saturday we had a Pioneer Rally. Judge +Benson, a friend of Dr. Morrow’s from the city, gave +us a talk on self-government. He explained the difference +between natural, spiritual, and civic law. He +also explained the meaning of an ordinance, told us +how justice was administered in the different courts, +and how self-government, or the reform system is having +its try-out in some of the prisons to-day. He says +it bids fair to make criminals—men hardened in sin +and crime—respectable members of a community.” +</p> +<p> +“Self-government?” queried mystified Nita, “why, +the Pioneers are not citizens or criminals; you don’t +have to be governed!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, we do,” asserted Nathalie stoutly, “and so +does everybody. Civic, natural, and spiritual laws are +all right, but back of those laws is the law of self-government, +that is the something within each one of us +that makes us what we want to be, that makes us control +ourselves even when we are babies, when we get +slapped for being naughty. If there was no self-government +in the world—for it is the government of +self when we make ourselves obey the laws of God and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_326'></a>326</span> +man, when we cease evil and do the right—why, if +there was no self-government we would all be savages +without law and order. +</p> +<p> +“Judge Benson told us how self-government came +to be used in the schools and prisons. Of course, as +I said, we all have to govern ourselves in a measure, +but it is the applying of this self-government in a new +way that has done so much good. +</p> +<p> +“A very good man, he said, took some waifs from +the poor settlements in New York to the country and +tried to better them physically and morally by teaching +them to be good. But of course, they would do wicked +things and have to be punished, and he became very +much discouraged because the punishments didn’t seem +to do them any permanent good. So he thought for a +long time and then he formed a Junior Republic, made +all the boys and girls citizens, and then told them to +appoint their own officials, that is, their own lawyers, +judges, officers, and so on. Then when any of them +did wrong they were haled into court and tried by +their own comrades. Of course, they all became so +interested in this new system of punishing—for you +see, they all had a part in it—that they became wonderfully +good. You see, the boys and girls had to +learn to control themselves, for of course, they not only +wanted to stand high in the court and be lawyers and +judges themselves, but they did not like to be corrected +and called down—that’s what the judge said—by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_327'></a>327</span> +their own comrades. This venture at making boys and +girls learn to control themselves not only taught them +self-denial, self-repression, self-development, and the +difference between right and wrong, and their duty to +themselves as well as to their companions, but it was +the means of introducing the same system into the public +schools, and in time into the prisons.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but I don’t understand how it interests you +girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Why, Mrs. Morrow read so much about self-government +and the good it did that she introduced it into +the Pioneer organization, and it has worked wonderfully +well there, Mrs. Morrow claims. Instead of a +court we have a senate, which is composed of two girls +from each bird group, elected by the girls. The Pioneers +also elected a president, that’s Helen, and a vice-president, +she’s an Oriole girl and quite clever, too. +Jessie Ford is the secretary, and Mrs. Morrow is the +Advisory Judge and has the power to veto any ruling +of the president, but she never has as yet. +</p> +<p> +“So you see what it does for the Pioneers, for if +any member of the organization breaks a law or does +anything wrong she is brought before the Senate. +Every Pioneer served with an indictment to appear +before the Senate has, of course, the right to choose +one of the girls as a counsel, and when there are two +girls implicated they both choose counsel. Then after +the witnesses are all heard the lawyers sum up, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_328'></a>328</span> +case goes to the Senate, who act as a jury and vote by +ballot. The case can be appealed to the Advisory +Judge; or an offender, by asking or showing contrition, +can have her sentence lightened. You don’t know +what fun it is, and then it helps to make us govern +ourselves and teaches us law, too, in a small way, of +course.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I wish they’d try to punish that hateful +Sport for using your idea, and to think she got all the +credit for it! Why—” +</p> +<p> +“No, she didn’t,” laughed Nathalie with an odd +little gleam in her eye, “for she was tried before the +Senate Saturday.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nathalie, you don’t mean it! Oh, I’m so +glad!” cried Nita clapping her hands delightedly. “I +do hope she got her deserts, the deceitful thing!” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I am afraid she got all that was coming to +her, as Dick said.” Nathalie’s bright face sobered. +“Nita, I was awfully sorry for her. It was so humiliating +to have to face that Senate, oh, the girls just hate +to be brought before it. I had to tell as a witness, +about losing the Stunt, the librarian told of helping me +get data and then helping me to look for it, and then +how she saw Edith pick it up as it fell from under a +book on the table.” +</p> +<p> +“Do tell me what they did to her!” Nita bent forward +in curious excitement as she spoke. +</p> +<p> +“Poor thing! she had all her stars and badges of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_329'></a>329</span> +merit taken from her. Just think, she will have to begin +all over again to win them! At first it was voted +that she would have to go back and be a third-class +Pioneer again, but I was so sorry that I pleaded for +clemency, and so the sentence was lightened. +</p> +<p> +“You see, there is an awful lot of good in Edith, +and I am never again going to say anything against +her, she has been punished enough. And oh, Nita, +Dorothy at the Rally received her third-class badge, +and I received my badge for a second-class Pioneer. +I’m going to work awfully hard while at camp, so as +to qualify as a first-class Pioneer. But there, it is +getting late and we shall have to stop talking and take +up our reading on the ‘Pioneer Women of America.’” +</p> +<p> +Nita nodded, and in a few moments the two girls +were busily engaged; Nita listening with the keenest +attention while Nathalie read about the Dutch women +who came from Holland and settled New York, little +dreaming as she read that this lesson was to culminate +in an event of the utmost importance to the Girl +Pioneers of Westport. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_330'></a>330</span><a name='chXIX' id='chXIX'></a>CHAPTER XIX—THE FAGOT PARTY</h2> +<p> +“Oh, Mother, isn’t it just beautiful?” exclaimed +the princess the night of the fagot +party, as she watched the flames leap and +dance down on the lawn. +</p> +<p> +“Yes; it is very suggestive, too,” answered Mrs. +Van Vorst, “for it makes one think of the witches in +Macbeth, as they stood around the cauldron watching +their queer concoction ‘boil and bubble.’” +</p> +<p> +“O dear!” was Nita’s wail again, “it is lovely to +see the fire and the girls, but I do want to hear the +stories they tell.” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps Nathalie will come up later,” suggested +her mother, “and tell you some of the thrillers. Is +that what she calls them?” +</p> +<p> +“There, they have stopped the witches’ dance and +are forming a circle. Oh, one of the girls has thrown +on a bundle of fagots! Yes, it’s that friend of Nathalie’s, +Miss Sensible. Oh, Mother,” cried the little +shut-in with a woeful countenance, “I am sure I could +walk down there.” She stood up as she spoke and +began to walk restlessly up and down the room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_331'></a>331</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nita, be careful!” pleaded her mother. +“You do not want to overdo your walking, and you +have been on your feet a good deal to-day.” Notwithstanding +Mrs. Van Vorst’s protest there was a note +of hope in her voice that betrayed that she had at last +begun to see things as Nathalie had predicted, that she +had made a mistake in housing her daughter behind +high walls, and that the mingling with girls of her own +age might bring new life to her. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, there’s Grace,” went on the voice at the window. +“She’s the other girl who came with Nathalie. +Oh, she’s throwing on her fagots!” The girl turned +from the window as she perceived that Ellen had entered +the room and was telling her mother that some +one desired to see her in the library. +</p> +<p> +As Mrs. Van Vorst arose to leave the room Nita +demurred, “Oh, Mother, I don’t want to be left here +alone.” +</p> +<p> +“I will return as soon as possible, Nita, dear,” was +the reply; “Ellen will stay with you. You can tell her +about the fagot party,” she added hastily as she saw +the cloud on the girl’s face. With a backward glance, +as she hurried from the room, she saw that her suggestion +had been followed and that Ellen had drawn her +chair close to Nita’s, and was eagerly listening as her +daughter related the incidents leading up to the demonstration +down on the lawn. +</p> +<p> +Indeed it was not long before the faithful nurse, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_332'></a>332</span> +always interested in anything to brighten the life of her +young charge, was watching the Pioneers and their +doings as keenly as Nita, while wishing with her that +they could hear the stories the girls were telling. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Nita, who had been unusually silent for +some time, drew Ellen’s head down to hers, and began +to whisper softly in her ear. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Ellen, will you?” she coaxed pleadingly, as +she finished her whispering of something that had +brought a protest from the good woman. Ellen looked +dubious for a minute or so, and then the persuasive +pleader had her way, for Ellen had given her assent +and Nita was clapping her hands happily, as she thought +of the fun in store for her later in the evening. +</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, the girls on the lawn with tense expectancy +kept their eyes on Nathalie, who arose, walked +towards the flaming pyre, and with a quick toss landed +another bundle of fagots on the leaping flames. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nathalie, you will have to hurry,” called +Grace excitedly, as her friend scurried back to her seat. +“One of your fagots is already ablaze.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie needed no warning for she had already +plunged into her tale, and in short, concise sentences—she +had practiced with Helen—was describing in +graphic tone a colonial wedding, the going away of the +bridal pair, the building of a log hut in the wilderness, +the departure of the young husband, and the loneliness +of the young bride. She paused a moment and drew +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_333'></a>333</span> +a long breath as if to gather her forces for the coming +ordeal. +</p> +<p> +Then with her eyes fastened in a rigid stare on the +twirling glare from the flames—so as to bring her +story to a proper climax when the fiery fagots fell +apart—she went on and told of the face of a redskin +suddenly being thrust into a window of the little cabin, +of a shriek of terror, of cruel, fiendish laughter, of the +fair bride being carried on the back of a tall savage, +and of the final arrival at an Indian encampment, where +a paint-bedaubed warrior with flaunting head-gear +tried to induce the wailing bride to become his squaw. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s eyes, big in the flaming redness of the +firelight, were riveted on the seething flames as if she +saw in the twist and curl of their darting tongues the +enactment of the story she was telling. The girls all +bent forward eagerly, for the fagots were getting ready +to burst apart as she told of the imprisonment of the +bride, the making of a big bonfire, the tying of the +bride to the stake, the lighting of the underbrush at +her feet, and the whirling flames as they leaped up and +greedily licked the terror-stricken face. +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie, like a photo-play screen, had transported +her listeners to a sun-baked plain, where a white +man was galloping in mad speed. A fagot had leaped +from its fellows. “Oh, Nathalie, hurry!” whispered +Grace, wringing her hands nervously. Ah, but +Nathalie was on time, and as the fagots gave a loud +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_334'></a>334</span> +snap and fell into a shower of twinkling lights the +horseman came galloping into the street of the Indian +encampment with a troop of soldiers close at his heels, +and leaped into the fiery embers and cut—There was +a loud clapping followed by cries of applause, for there +was no need to tell what happened after that leap into +the fire, every one knew. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Lillie, it is your turn!” shouted several +voices as Nathalie, exhausted by her strenuous race +between words and flames, sank back somewhat exhausted +against her friend’s shoulder. +</p> +<p> +Lillie Bell, in response to her name, seized a bundle +of fagots, and with a few flourishes, which she declared +to be an incantation for success, threw it on the blazing +pile. In a moment she was back in her seat and had +started her tale of romance. +</p> +<p> +“When Washington Irving’s headless horseman was +the terror of the Hudson, a party of young girls, who +were wandering in the fields one moonlight night, was +chased by a huge and airy phantom to the banks of +the river. In order to escape their foe two of the +girls darted into an empty boat fastened near the bank +and rowed out into the stream. The phantom, a +strange and weird object, pursued, swimming rapidly +in the wake of the canoe. +</p> +<p> +“Suddenly, to the horror of the girls crouched up +against a rock on shore they saw, in a broad band of +moonlight shining on the water, that the phantom was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_335'></a>335</span> +the headless one. Even as they gazed it had reached +the boat, and with one sweep of its mighty arm had +grabbed one of the girls from her sister’s clutch, and +was swimming swiftly back to land. +</p> +<p> +“The girl in the boat rowed quickly back, only to +see, with her companions on shore, the phantom disappear +into the woods. With phenomenal courage she +flew after the headless one, screaming with all her +strength. But alas, her speed and screams were of no +avail, for she ran after the phantom only to see it dash +into an uninhabited mansion that stood in a park thick +with the gloom of forest trees. +</p> +<p> +“Horror-stricken, the girls hastened home and parties +were sent in pursuit of the stolen girl, but no trace +of her was found, although the empty mansion, dark +with the forest gloom was searched from attic to cellar. +</p> +<p> +“Time passed, and the maiden returned not to her +home, nor was any trace of her ever discovered, although +every effort possible had been made. At last +her sister, loved by a young farmer, refused to marry +him unless he would visit the haunted mansion at midnight, +to see if possibly he could obtain any clew to her +sister’s whereabouts, it being generally believed that +she had been murdered in the house and that her ghost +haunted the abode. +</p> +<p> +“Determined to win the girl, the young farmer with +his revolver and a few tapers secreted himself in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_336'></a>336</span> +cellar of the house one day, just before twilight. He +was resolved to solve the mystery of the girl’s disappearance +and the reason why the house at night was +filled with a peculiar, bluish light, said to be the candle +borne by the headless one in his midnight tour of the +premises. +</p> +<p> +“Just before midnight the farmer hastened to the +upper floor and hid in a closet, where, with quaking +limbs and wildly beating heart he awaited the magic +hour. Unfortunately, weary with waiting, he fell +asleep, but was soon awakened by a peculiar, creeping +sensation along his spine. He crouched against the +door holding it ajar with one hand and the pistol in +the other. +</p> +<p> +“All at once there was the swish of a garment +against the door. He scratched a match, lit his taper, +and glared forth into the darkness. Again he heard +that swish. It was in the hall. Stealthily he tiptoed +to the hall door, opened it with trembling hand, and +stepped forth into dense blackness, when—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Lillie, hurry!” screamed the Sport. “Your +logs will fall in a minute!” +</p> +<p> +A strange smile flitted over Lillie’s face, but her +voice went thrillingly on. “When something huge +and hairy spread over him like a net, benumbing every +nerve and muscle. He struggled, and finally succeeded +in getting free of the unknown thing and sprang for the +door leading to the open. He would get out of that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_337'></a>337</span> +house. No, he would lose Kitty, he could not live +without her! He turned—ah, what was that weird +flash at the top of the staircase? He heard the swish +again—this time very near—it was some one coming +down the stairs! He crouched against the wall and +peered up; the rattling of a chain sounded on his ears; +again came that weird glare, and he saw—” the fagots +fell with a loud sputter, throwing forth a shower of +fiery sparks. Lillie remained silent a moment, each +girl held her breath in paralyzed terror, and then, as +the last fagot dropped a shapeless heap on the grass, +Lillie cried with tragic emphasis, “Girls, I leave you +to guess what he saw!” +</p> +<p> +A second of space, Lillie’s eyes shown in a mocking +smile as she glanced around the circle, and then, the +smile froze on her lips, her eyes dilated wildly, and she +jumped to her feet crying in frenzied horror, “What +is that?” pointing as she spoke to a clump of trees on +the lawn. Another second and she had turned, and +with an unearthly shriek was flying across the lawn +towards the house! +</p> +<p> +The girls, whose nerves had been wrought up to the +highest pitch by Lillie’s weird tale, remained dumb, +thinking as they saw her strange actions that it was a +new thriller, and were uncertain whether to laugh or +cry, as they stared at her flying figure. +</p> +<p> +Jessie, who always disliked Lillie’s tragic tales, with +a half laugh sprang to her feet crying, “Well, if she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_338'></a>338</span> +isn’t the limit!” Her glance had followed Lillie’s to +the clump of trees with a curious stare; the stare became +fixed; she uttered a wild scream, and the next +moment she, too, was rushing in mad terror across the +lawn in the wake of the story-teller! +</p> +<p> +As the girls saw her glance and heard her cry, terror +struck each one like an electric shock, and the next +second every girl present had broken into a wild cry, +and without waiting to see what was the cause of the +rush over the lawn, was speeding, helter-skelter towards +the house! +</p> +<p> +Nathalie had run with the others, and then, swayed +by some unknown impulse, she had halted and glanced +back in the direction she had seen Lillie and Jessie look. +She gave a low cry, started to flee again, and then stood +suddenly still, and with panting breath gazed again at +the clump of trees. She caught her breath, for under +the swaying boughs stood a weird, white object pointing +a long white finger at her! +</p> +<p> +What was it? Could it be a Boy Scout trying to +frighten them? She bent forward with intent eyes, +for as the white figure swayed slightly there was something +curiously familiar in its movements. The next +instant Nathalie had turned, and as if shot from a +catapult was speeding towards the white figure that +still stood, uncannily waving its arms to and fro in the +moonlight. +</p> +<div><a name='illus-338' id='illus-338'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i009' id='i009'></a> +<img src="images/illus-338.jpg" alt="With an unearthly shriek was flying across the lawn." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>With an unearthly shriek was flying across the lawn.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_339'></a>339</span></div> +<p> +“Oh, Nita!” burst from the girl, “how did you +come here?“ Before the white figure could answer, +Ellen was seen running swiftly towards them. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Miss Nita,” she wailed, “what a scare you +have given me! Oh, you naughty girl, you promised +that you would not leave the lower porch!” +</p> +<p> +“Well,” flashed the girl, “I changed my mind!” +Then seizing Nathalie, who was still staring at her +with big, frightened eyes, she began to laugh hysterically. +“Oh, wasn’t it funny, Nathalie? Did you see +how she ran? What a joke, when she was trying to +scare the girls—and was scared herself—O dear, it +is so funny!” +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie, with a sober face was staring down at +the grass. “Oh, Nita,” she exclaimed with a sudden +fear, “the grass is wet, and, Ellen, she will take cold! +Oh, how did she get here? Mrs. Van Vorst will be +so displeased!” +</p> +<p> +But at that instant Mrs. Van Vorst came running +down the path followed by Mrs. Morrow. “Oh, Nita! +Nita!” she wailed, “how could you be so foolish, you +will surely take your death! Ellen, how did it +happen?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure, there’s no harm done,” broke in Peter’s voice +at this critical moment. “I have her chair and we’ll +soon get her in, marm. Sure, I saw her stealing across +the lawn all alone by herself, and I hurried after the +chair, thinking she would be tired before she had gone +far.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_340'></a>340</span> +</p> +<p> +“Thank you, Peter,” cried Nita’s mother, “you are +so good and considerate. O dear, I hope she won’t +take cold! It was such an imprudent thing for her +to do, but Ellen, how did it happen?” There was a +note of condemnation in the lady’s voice. +</p> +<p> +But before Ellen could answer, Nita, whom Peter +had wrapped and placed in her chair, cried, “Now, +Mamma, don’t blame Ellen. It was all my fault. I +sent her to get my shawl and then I stole down here. +I just wanted to hear some of the stories. But when +I got here that girl—the Pioneers called her Lillie—was +telling a story. She was trying to scare the girls, +and then—oh, Mother, it was so funny to see her +run—why, I thought I would scare her, and when +she looked up, just as she had worked the girls all to a +fever, I waved my arm and pointed my finger at her. +Oh, Mother, if you could have heard her shriek!” +Nita was again in hysterical laughter. +</p> +<p> +By this time she had her audience laughing with her, +especially Peter and Ellen, who thought their young +mistress had been most brilliant in outwitting them, +and in frightening the young lady who had been trying +so hard to frighten her companions. +</p> +<p> +“O dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Morrow, who proved to +be the lady who was visiting with Mrs. Van Vorst +when Nita stole down to the lower porch, “I am +ashamed of my Pioneers; they are supposed to be very +brave, but to-night’s performance does not appear as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_341'></a>341</span> +if they were. Nathalie, how was it you did not run +with the others?” +</p> +<p> +“I did,” confessed Nathalie frankly, “but something +brought me to a halt and I turned and looked +back. O dear, but Nita did look terrible waving her +white arms to and fro! And then it came to me that +there was something familiar about the figure, I stared +a moment, and then I knew! But, Mrs. Morrow, +hadn’t I better look for the girls? Please do not blame +them, I am sure you would have run, too, if you could +have seen Nita in that sheet, pointing her finger at +you.” +</p> +<p> +Then Nathalie was off, running swiftly over the +lawn, peering first on one side and then the other as +she gave a Bob White whistle, then a Tru-al-lee, ending +with the shout, “Girls! Girls! where are you?” then +the Bob White whistle again. +</p> +<p> +Her cry was heard, and one by one the Pioneers +sheepishly crawled from their places of safety and +joined Nathalie on the lawn. They listened with +shamed faces as she told them who and what it was +that had caused their sudden departure. They were +reluctant to show themselves at first, especially when +they learned that Mrs. Morrow was there and had +heard all about their foolish flight. But with a bit of +coaxing on Nathalie’s part they returned, and in a few +minutes were again in their cheer-fire circle, with two +additional guests, Mrs. Van Vorst and Nita, besides +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_342'></a>342</span> +Mrs. Morrow, who had thought when the girls first +began to tell their stories to slip in and thank Mrs. +Van Vorst for her kindness, with the result that she +had been a witness to their lack of bravery, as she +termed it. +</p> +<p> +The rest of the evening passed quickly after one or +two had told their thrillers, to the great satisfaction +of Nita, who enjoyed them immensely. After the +stories were told, there was a marshmallow roast, +which was entered into with zest, and then came the +burning send-off to Louise Gaynor, who, when her +name was called, came shyly forward to receive an +enormous pie, from which hung streamers of gay colored +ribbons, each streamer being tied to a keepsake +from one of the Pioneers. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow now expressed the regret of the Pioneers +at losing so good a comrade and friend, with +the added wish that she would always remember them +with love, and the assurance that they would carry her +on their hearts with devout wishes for her health and +happiness. The streamers were pulled one by one and +the loving gifts were brought forth as a tribute to the +sweetest songster of the band. +</p> +<p> +The last streamer brought to light a Round Robin +letter, which Louise faithfully promised not to open +until the dates set, as for each day in the year of absence +she would find a few words of cheer and love +from her comrades, the Girl Pioneers of America. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_343'></a>343</span> +</p> +<p> +After a few songs from the girls, Louise sang +one or two of her old English songs, Lillie accompanying +her on the mandolin, and then Mrs. Morrow, in a +neat little speech, commended Nathalie for her courage +in holding her ground when the others had taken to +flight. As she ended there was a moment’s silence +and then each and every girl was shouting as loud as +she could: +</p> +<p> + “Hear! hear! a brave Pioneer!<br /> + Three cheers for Nathalie dear!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +This cheer was most embarrassing to Nathalie, who +wiggled uneasily with flushed cheeks as she tried to +make the girls hear that she was not brave at all. But +her protests were drowned by the merry voices, as after +three cheers they broke into their Pioneer song of +good-by to Louise. This was followed by the song +that every Pioneer loves to sing and that was: +</p> +<p> + “We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + We will be brave, and kind and true;<br /> + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!<br /> + Hear! Hear! Hear!<br /> + Girl Pioneer!<br /> + Come, give a cheer!<br /> + Girl Pi-o-neer!!!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +One bright morning two weeks after the fagot party, +Helen with wondering surprise mingled with pleasure +read the following: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_344'></a>344</span> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“Madame Van Vorst presents her compliments to +Mistress Helen Dame, and begs the pleasure of her +company on the afternoon of the sixth of July, at a +<em>Kraeg</em>, to meet her daughter, Mistress Anita Van +Vorst, in the celebration of the two hundred and fiftieth +anniversary of the building of the Van Vorst homestead. +Mistress Helen is requested to appear in the +costume of a ‘goede vrouw’ of Mana-ha-ta.” +</p> +<p> +“A <em>Kraeg</em>—what does that mean?” queried the +girl, as with puzzled brows she eyed the tiny picture +of the “Homestead” surmounting the invitation, with +the dates, 1664-1914. “Ah, Nathalie will know!” +The next moment the girl was hurrying across the lawn +to her neighbor’s veranda, where she had spied her +cosily ensconced in the hammock screened from observant +eyes by a bower of green leaves. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie looked up as she heard her step and trilled +a soft tru-al-lee in recognition, as Helen gave the +brownish envelope in her hand a flourish. +</p> +<p> +“I knew you would be wanting to know what that +meant.” Nathalie smiled happily at her friend as she +pointed to the envelope. +</p> +<p> +“I understand the invitation all right,” was the +quick retort, “and congratulate you on your success in +winning the madame to your views that it was a shame +to allow little Anita to bloom behind those high walls. +But—can you tell me what kind of a thing a <em>Kraeg</em> +is?” +</p> +<p> +“It means a Dutch house-warming! But there, I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_345'></a>345</span> +am not going to tell you any more, wait until the +sixth.” +</p> +<p> +“‘In the costume of a goede vrouw of Mana-ha-ta,’” +read Helen slowly. “May I deign to ask your +Dutch Majesty to explain what this means?” +</p> +<p> +“You may,” nodded the occupant of the hammock, +“for her Dutch Majesty has spent many weary hours +with Miss Anita studying just that part of the program. +You see, we want to have the real Dutch atmosphere +of the early period, so we decided to have +each girl impersonate some woman pioneer, and then +tell who she was and what she did.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I don’t imagine that the girls will care to +get themselves up like those old Dutch vrouws, as they +were so terribly stolid and uninteresting.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Helen,” exclaimed Nathalie sitting suddenly +up in the hammock, “those Dutch vrouws were anything +but uninteresting. Nita and I have read all +about them in a book Mrs. Van Vorst bought for us in +New York, it has just been published and is very interesting. +As a matter of fact, the women who settled +New York were the most efficient, the most industrious, +and the most capable of any of the early pioneer +women of that period.” +</p> +<p> +“I did not know that,” said Helen, raising her eyebrows; +“I thought they were just stolid Dutch peasant +women with little ability to do anything but knit, tend +the cows, and so on.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_346'></a>346</span> +</p> +<p> +“A great many people seem to have that idea,” returned +her friend, “but the Dutch housewives were not +mere stoical drudges. Holland at that time, you know, +was the only country that gave as good an education +to her girls as to her boys. They were not only educated +to fill responsible positions, but to have a love +for literature as well as for painting, music, and the +arts. So these Dutch peasants, as you call them, were +better educated, better protected by the laws of the +colony, and held more important positions than any of +their Southern or Northern sisters. +</p> +<p> +“It is claimed,” she went on, warming to her subject, +“that the Dutch housewife was the manufacturer +of the day, producing under her own roof nearly all +the necessities for the family use. Besides being proficient +in the art of cooking, she made perfumes from +the flowers in her garden, planted, gathered, dried, +and brewed the hops. She culled simples and herbs +for medicine, thus becoming the physician of the household. +She taught her maids to card and weave wool +for clothes; she spun the fine thread of the flax, grown +in her yard, for the linen, knit the socks, oh, I could +not begin to tell you her many industries! +</p> +<p> +“But besides all that,” continued the girl, “the goede +vrouws had such good sense and judgment, and such a +fine eye for commercial values that they not only +owned real estate, but ofttimes carried on their own +business. The burgomasters of the town paid great +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_347'></a>347</span> +deference to the Dutch women’s shrewdness, judgment, +and independence, so that they exerted no little influence +in the state affairs of New Amsterdam.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I never!” laughed Helen teasingly. “If +you haven’t become a regular schoolma’am since you +have been teaching the princess. Pray, how much am +I to pay you per word?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie laughed merrily. “Yes, isn’t it funny? +I started reading about the Pioneer women to get Nita +interested in something that would be instructive as +well as entertaining. And lo, she has not only become +absorbed in anything that pertains to the pioneers, but +in many other historical subjects as well. As for me, +why, I have learned a great deal, too, and that is how, +when Mrs. Van Vorst said she would like to entertain +the Pioneers in return for amusing Nita by the drill +and the fagot party, we decided to have a <em>Kraeg</em>.” +</p> +<p> +“How will the girls know what characters they are +to take, what they did, and so on?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mrs. Morrow and I arranged all that. Notices +were sent—you’ll get yours—telling the girls +that all information would be furnished by Annetje +Jans—that’s I—gratis. I will arrange with each girl +as to her character and so on. Oh, there’s Grace! +I’ll warrant you she has her notice and is in a hurry +for news. But, Helen, here is the book that tells all +about these Dutch women. I wish you would take it +and look it over, for I know I shall need lots of help.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_348'></a>348</span><a name='chXX' id='chXX'></a>CHAPTER XX—THE DUTCH KRAEG</h2> +<p> +The sixth of July had arrived, and little Miss +New York was fidgeting nervously in her +chair—draped with the Star Spangled Banner +and the flaunting colors of the Dutch Republic—placed +in line with the hostess and the receiving party +of the day. She was a rather startling Miss New +York, arrayed as a Goddess of Liberty—she had +claimed she was too modern to be a vrouw—with her +chair as well as her small person hung with placards of +well-known places, streets, and buildings of the metropolis. +</p> +<p> +By her side stood Madame New Amsterdam—Mrs. +Van Vorst—whose multitudinous skirts stood out +from her figure with such amplitude that she resembled +the quaint little green pincushion that dangled from +her waist. Her neat white cap was tied under her +chin with formal stiffness, while a large silk apron +completed a make-up that transformed the slender, dignified +Mrs. Van Vorst into a typical Dutch matron. +She too, like her daughter, was hung with tiny white +signs from bodice to skirt, which excited curiosity if +not admiration. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_349'></a>349</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mother, I do wish they would hurry and +come!” cried Miss New York impatiently, craning her +neck to see if some one had not yet appeared on the +broad stairway leading to the main sitting-room. +“Oh, somebody’s coming!” and the little lady, with +the weight of a city on her shoulders, drew back as she +clapped her hands with delight. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, here comes the Governor’s lady,” exclaimed +Madame New Amsterdam as Madame Stuyvesant—Mrs. +Morrow—announced her coming by stopping on +the threshold of the low-ceiled room, and bowed with +such stately formality that Miss New York’s eyes suddenly +stilled, as she stiffened with similar dignity to +receive the first guest. +</p> +<p> +The Governor’s lady was followed by Annetje Jans, +her comely little person looking like a blooming Dutch +posy, arrayed in a bright green petticoat and a blue +waistcoat with yellow sleeves. The brown eyes, ready +smile, and brilliant cheeks of Miss Nathalie made her +a fitting representative of the little lady who formed +so large a part of the history of New Amsterdam, coming +over in 1630 in the ship <em>Endracht</em> with her husband +and three children from Holland. After the +death of her husband, who left her a <em>bouwerie</em> (farm) +of sixty acres, a good part of New York, she married +Dominie Bogardus, thus becoming with her wealth and +influence a dominant character in the colony. +</p> +<p> +Annetje came a few steps forward, and then bobbed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_350'></a>350</span> +such a low curtsy that the wings of her lace cap +flapped out like the sails of a windmill in a greeting to +her hostesses. But in a second her old-time pose was +forgotten, as her eyes fell on the much “be-signed” +person of the lady of the house, and she flew to her +aid, declaring that she was losing some of her signs. +</p> +<p> +“This will never do,” she commented as she hurriedly +pinned the sign “Bouwerie” in its place. “Oh, +and here’s another old place that’s gone astray!” poking +“Der Halle” on a straight line with its neighbor, +“De claver Waytie.” +</p> +<p> +“Will you please inform me why New Amsterdam +is thus placarded?” It was the voice of the Governor’s +lady, who was curiously watching this adjustment +of signs. +</p> +<p> +“Why, these signs are the Dutch names of the different +localities and streets as named in the days of +New Amsterdam,” explained Annetje quickly. “See. +Broad street means Broad way; <em>Kloch-Hoeck</em> was the +site of the first village, as it was all covered with bits +of clam and oyster shells, the word means Shell Point. +<em>De claver Waytie</em> was a hill leading to a spring covered +with grass, where the young maidens used to +bleach their linen. The path they wore up the hill +came to be known as <em>Maadje-Paatje</em>, Maiden Lane. +<em>Der Halle</em> was the name of a tavern near a big tree on +the corner of Broad and Wall Street. It took the arms +of six men to go round <em>der groot</em> tree. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_351'></a>351</span> +</p> +<p> +“Here is <em>Cowfoot Hill</em>, the old cow-path up the hill, +<em>Canoe Place</em>, where the Indians used to tie their +canoes, and <em>Catiemuts</em> is the hill where the Indians had +built their castle. <em>Collect</em> means a dear little lake +near-by, yes, and here’s the Boston Highway, here’s +the <em>Stadt-Huys</em>, the town hall. <em>Graft</em> was a ditch +crossed by a bridge; <em>De Smits Vlye</em> was an old +blacksmith shop near the ferry to Long Island. <em>Vlacke</em> +was the grazing ground for the cows, now the City +Hall Park. <em>De Schaape Waytie</em> was the sheep +pasture—” +</p> +<p> +“Annetje Jans,” exclaimed Madame Van Stuyvesant +at this point, with a solemn face, “do you expect me +to remember all those Dutch names? Verily, child, +you have improved your time and twisted your tongue.” +But Annetje was off, for at that moment she spied another +arrival, one of the Orioles, and as the sprightly +dominie’s widow was to act as mistress of ceremonies, +she was soon by her side, as she stood hesitatingly in +the doorway. +</p> +<p> +“How do you do, <em>Mutter</em>. Oh, but you do look +fine!” cried Nathalie as her keen eyes noted the broad +appearing figure with hair pushed straight back under +a close fitting cap, short petticoat and gown displaying +her wooden sabots. The <em>mutter</em> was knitting industriously, +like a typical Dutch vrouw, as she talked to +Annetje and told of the woes that attended the getting +up of her make-up. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_352'></a>352</span> +</p> +<p> +Annetje now led the new arrival to the line waiting +to welcome her. “Allow me to present to you Catalina +de Trice, the <em>mutter</em> of New York, having been the +first woman to land on that famous little isle.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” added the <em>mutter</em> with a stiff little bow to +the grand Dutch dames receiving her with stately courtesy, +“I came over in the first ship, the <em>Unity</em>, sent by +the West India Company to the settlement, and I have +the added distinction,” another quaint bob, “of being +the mother of the first white child born in New Amsterdam, +Sara Rapelje.” +</p> +<p> +Catalina had no time to continue her family history +for Annetje had hurried her to Miss New York, a little +lady in whom all the Pioneers were greatly interested. +She was next shown a table in the rear of Nita, holding +a ship encrusted with silver frosting to represent +snow, and bearing the words, “<em>Half-Moon</em>.” On the +deck of this famous craft was the miniature figure of +a man, which Nathalie explained, was intended for the +discoverer who had named the river Hudson after himself. +Back of the ship were small sized rocks with the +sign, “Great Rocks of Wiehocken,” which Annetje declared +needed no explanation. +</p> +<p> +A few feet away was a large windmill guarded by +a demure little serving-maid who was no other than +Carol. With her flower-blue eyes and corn-colored +hair hanging in two braids from under her cute little +cap she was a miniature Dutch vrouw. Catalina was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_353'></a>353</span> +now invited to pull one of a number of gay-colored +streamers that flew with the windmill as it buzzed rapidly +around. +</p> +<p> +To the girl’s surprise, as she gave a quick pull to a +ribbon, a card dropped from one of the sails. It was +painted with a gaudy red tulip with an appropriate +verse on Holland’s national posy. Catalina, on being +told to keep it, pinned it to her bodice, and then hurried +with Annetje to receive the guests standing at the door, +the two girls being the oldest representatives of the +Dutch colony. +</p> +<p> +The new comer proved to be Tryntje Jonas, alias +Barbara Worth. She was made known to the hostess +as the mother of Annetje, and as the first nurse and +woman doctor in the settlement. Her skirt was of true +linsey-woolsey, from which hung an immense pincushion. +With her glasses and her knitting-bag on +her arm she looked duly professional as she paid her +respects to the Dutch vrouw with stately dignity. +</p> +<p> +A sweeping curtsy and Madame Kiersted, Annetje’s +daughter, otherwise Grace Tyson, was telling +with pride of the part she had played as Indian interpreter, +when the officials of the town were making a +treaty with the Indians. She was well-versed in the +Algonquin language, she explained, as she had played +with little Indian children from the time she was a wee +lassie. +</p> +<p> +She told, too, how she had signed a petition and presented +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_354'></a>354</span> +it to the councillors, begging that the good +vrouws be permitted to hold a market day. This petition +was granted, and market day was held thenceforth +on Saturdays, when the dames of the colony were +permitted to offer their wares for sale on the Strand +near her home. Furthermore, the Madame stated she +had a shed built in her back yard, so that the Indian +squaws could make brooms and string wampum, which +they, too, sold on market day. From a little bag she +now produced a wampum belt, explaining that it was +made of twisted periwinkle shells strung on hemp. A +blue clam-shell was also brought forth, which had +been punctured with holes and which was called <em>sewant</em>; +these two shells at that time constituting the currency +of the colony. +</p> +<p> +But the Indian’s friend had gone and in her place +stood a <em>grande dame</em>, the famous Madame Van Cortland, +generally known in the olden days as “the maker +of a stone street.” Madame, when inquiry was made, +said she had been born in Holland, but came to the +<em>dorp</em> to marry her lover, Captain Oloff Van Cortland. +“We lived in a very grand house for those times, for +it was made of glazed brick and had a sloping roof +with a gable turned towards the street, after the manner +of the ‘Patria,’” she added with pompous gravity. +“There were steps leading to the roof, too, so +when it rained or snowed the water could run into a +hogshead in the yard instead of on my neighbor’s sidewalk +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_355'></a>355</span> +or head. The house was furnished in a grand +style, all the furniture came from Holland, and in front +of it was a little stoop with two side benches and a door +with an enormous brass knocker.” +</p> +<p> +“But the stone street, Madame?” inquired Madame +New Amsterdam, who seemed greatly interested in +these little stories of the people and doings of the city +whose name she bore. +</p> +<p> +“Cobbles,” corrected Dame Van Cortland. “You +see, it was this way. My husband, the captain, resigned +from the militia and went into the brewing business. +He built a brewery on Brower Street near the +Fort, one of the first lanes made by the settlers. But +alas,” sighed Madame ruefully, “when my husband’s +brewery wagons made their way over the lane they +raised so much dust and dirt that I begged my better +half to pave it with stones. He laughed at me, as was +his wont, and the dust and dirt grew thicker on the +lane. Driven desperate, I now marshaled my servants +to the lane, and we laid it with small, round cobblestones. +I won my way as well as fame, for the little +stone street was the first of its kind in the <em>dorp</em>, and +was regarded with much curiosity by the burghers.” +</p> +<p> +Annetje, now spying two more comers, flew to welcome +them and the grande dame of Manhattan Isle was +forgotten, as an ancient little lady appeared with silver +curls peeping from beneath a cap of rare old lace, a +rustling silk crossed with a kerchief, and a chatelaine +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_356'></a>356</span> +hanging from her girdle. She bowed with quaint +grace before the ladies, as Madame Killiaen Van +Rensselaer, otherwise known as, “The Lady of the +Thimble.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” spoke the little old lady, who by the way was +a Bob White, and who had studied her part with due +diligence, “I was the first woman to wear a gold +thimble. I was seated at my work one day with an +ivory thimble, big and cumbersome, on my fingers, the +kind ’tis claimed the tailors use. A young friend of +mine to whom I had rendered some slight service was +at work in his shop just across the lane. He spied my +thimble, and, being a goldsmith, then and there vowed +that on my birthday I should receive a gift. ’Tis +needless to say that this vow was fulfilled, for the +young man presented me with a gold thimble on that +day, which he had made with the wish that I would +wear his finger-hat as a covering to a diligent and +beautiful finger.” +</p> +<p> +A comely Dutch matron with bright eyes and ruddy +cheeks was now bowing in sprightly manner before the +hostess. By her pose she was immediately recognized +as Lillie Bell, who indeed was just the one to personate +the fair and bewitching “Lady of Petticoat Lane,” +alias Polly Spratt, Polly Prevoorst, and Polly Alexander. +The fair Polly was the recognized social leader +of New York in the days when coasting down <em>Flattenbarack +Hill</em>, or skating on the <em>Collect</em> with a party of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_357'></a>357</span> +lads and lassies as merry as herself gained her the +name of a hoyden. Always the bonniest, the merriest +lass at a wedding or dance, the acknowledged leader +of her set, counting her suitors by the score, it was not +to be wondered when she became a matron at seventeen. +As a widow of twenty-six she assumed control +of her husband’s business, building a row of offices in +front of her house. She, too, built a stone street, +Marketfield Lane, thus inciting her neighbors to do +the same. Hence, the brick walks that now came into +fashion called <em>Strookes</em>. +</p> +<p> +The keeper of a shop, the maker of a stone lane, the +owner of a wonderful coach, Madame’s fame as a +beauty and a social leader, added to her shrewdness, +her ingenuity, and sprightly intelligence, won her an +influence in the more weighty matters of the town, +gaining her the title of “My Lady of Petticoat Lane.” +Undoubtedly it also won her another husband, as when +the <em>pinter</em> flower was in bloom, pretty Polly married +Mr. James Alexander, one of the most distinguished +gentlemen of the times. +</p> +<p> +But on they came, the Pioneer Girls, as Dutch matrons +or maidens, impersonating those famous pioneer +women, who not only were the bone and sinew of old +New York, but who were the progenitors of some of +its most distinguished men in the days that followed. +Katrina de Brough, who lived in a fine stone house +on Hanover Square, was a most suitable example of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_358'></a>358</span> +the housewife of the day. Her days were spent in +planting her garden, culling her simples, distilling her +medicines, and many other well-known crafts of the +times. +</p> +<p> +Judith Varleth had gained the name of the “witch +maiden,” having been arrested and imprisoned in +Hartford, Connecticut, when quite a young girl. +Whether her beauty or her Dutch tongue brought this +dire calamity upon her is not known, but the witch +maiden was duly released and returned to her home +by her brother, and in a few years disposed of her +unfortunate name by marrying a gallant gentleman by +the name of Col. Nicholas Bayard. +</p> +<p> +Margaret Hardenbroeck not only won a husband, +Captain Patrus de Vries, a wealthy ship-owner, but +won fame as well. On the death of her husband she +continued his business, and established a line of ships, +the first packet line that crossed the Atlantic. Her +ability as a business woman evidently won her not only +fame, but a husband, for she soon married again, a +Mr. Frederick Phillipse, and in later days became the +owner of the Phillipse Manor, so well known during +the days of the Revolution. +</p> +<p> +Cornelia Lubbetse became Mrs. Johannes de Beyster, +while her daughter Marie, the wife of three husbands, +became known as the wealthiest woman in the settlement. +She was also noted for her industry, filling a +great <em>kos</em> (chest) with beautiful linen tied in packages +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_359'></a>359</span> +with colored tape and marked by herself at the time +of her first marriage. She also carried on a thrifty +business trading with ships between New Amsterdam, +Connecticut, and Virginia, as well as being the mother +of “The Lady of Petticoat Lane,” who married a +younger brother of her third husband. +</p> +<p> +Anna Stuyvesant, Rachel Hartjers, and Madame +Van Corlear were all in due turn presented to the +hostess, as well as Grietje Janssen, who was known in +the old days as a double-tongued woman, having won +fame as being the gossip of the burgh. +</p> +<p> +But the merry chatter and low-pitched laughter of +these would-be historic maidens was suddenly stilled, +as a strange, grotesque figure was seen in the doorway +gazing at the assembled company with an odd little +smile on its bedaubed face. +</p> +<p> +A murmur of surprise and astonishment caused +eyes and mouths to open in curious wonder, as Annetje, +although as bewildered as her neighbors, made her way +to the door to welcome the unknown intruder. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie approached the uncouth, blanketed savage +it emitted a strange sound; some claimed it was a +grunt, while others said it was a groan. The girl +stared a moment in startled inquiry and then a smile +parted her lips, which was quickly repressed as in a +quick glance she noted the eyes heavily underlined with +black paint, the brown dyed skin, the red patched cheeks +much besmeared with grease, and the black snake-like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_360'></a>360</span> +strings of hair that straggled from beneath a derby hat, +several sizes too small for the head. +</p> +<p> +As the redskin strode with measured gait to the +ladies, the painted lips opened, and an excellent imitation +of an Indian warwhoop broke forth with startling +intensity. Little Miss New York jumped nervously, +Madame New Amsterdam started back in surprise, but +Mrs. Morrow and Nathalie burst into laughter as they +both cried, “Why—it’s Edith!” +</p> +<p> +Yes, it was the Sport, who seeing she was the sensation +of the moment took off her derby hat and with a +low bow to hostesses, in guttural tone exclaimed, “No, +me no Edith, me Indian squaw from Mana-ha-ta!” +</p> +<p> +This unexpected announcement created no little astonishment, +and the girls flocked around her with exclamations +of wonder and surprise. As they began to +ply her with questions she cried triumphantly, “Ah, +girls, I fooled you that time, for I guess you had all +forgotten about the Indian women of Manhattan, who +always wore their husband’s hats.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, girls,” cried Nathalie quickly, “the joke is +on me, for I had forgotten, as Edith says, all about +these Indian squaws.” +</p> +<p> +“Edith, it was clever of you to remember,” now +interposed the Governor’s lady, “and your get-up too, +is very good.” She gazed with keen eyes at the girl’s +deerskin robe, fringed at the sides, with its embroidered +bodice, and the rows of colored beads that decorated +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_361'></a>361</span> +her neck and her brown bedaubed arms. “But +Edith,” she continued, “can’t you tell us something +about these squaws?” +</p> +<p> +The girl looked somewhat dismayed for a moment; +perhaps the sudden recollection of the last time she +had faced her companions, the shame she had felt, and +the punishment that had been meted out to her, caused +the flush that showed even beneath her paint and +grease. +</p> +<p> +“Why—I—oh, I don’t think there is much to +tell,” she faltered. But encouraged by a nod from +Mrs. Morrow she continued, “Lillie Bell lent me +Washington Irving’s History of New York. It tells +how Peter Minuit purchased the island from the Indians—the +Dutch people called them Wilden—and +where the bargain was made. It was close to a little +block house inside a palisade of red cedars very near +the traders’ hut in a place called <em>Capsey</em>, the place of +safe landing. Washington Irving claimed that the +name, ‘Manhattan,’ came from a tribe of Indians +whose squaws always wore their husband’s hats, but I +never knew that Indians wore hats, so I suppose it is +just one of his jokes.” +</p> +<p> +There was a general laugh at Edith’s sally, and then +the girls broke into loud applause. Perhaps they, too, +were doing a little thinking and were anxious to show +Edith that the deeds of the past were forgotten in her +well-doing. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_362'></a>362</span> +</p> +<p> +Annetje, after marshaling her forces, now led the +girls through the quaint Dutch room to show them the +many relics of past days. The wide-throated fireplace +with its gay-colored tiles—still in a state of good +preservation—with their queer scriptural figures, each +picture with the number of the text in the Bible that +told its story, awakened great interest. +</p> +<p> +Mahogany tables, queer little sideboards, and curiously +carved chairs next claimed their attention, while +the <em>slaap-bauck</em>, a funny little closet built in the side +walls of the room, its shelf covered with a mattress, and +with folding doors to open at night for a guest bed, +won special favor. +</p> +<p> +A flowered tabby cloth, a foot-warmer, and an old +chest called a <em>kos</em>, and which Nathalie declared was +similar to the one that the industrious Marie de Peyster +had filled with linen, was regarded with much +awe. A nutwood case, a wardrobe called a <em>kasten</em>—filled +with old Dutch costumes, grimy and moth-eaten—divided +honors with a beautiful old cupboard with +glass doors, displaying rare old blue and white Delft, +said to have come from Holland years and years ago. +</p> +<p> +But curios pall in time, and so the girls were not at +all reluctant to follow their hostesses into the quaint +old kitchen, gayly decorated with the orange and blue +of the Dutch Republic. Here, many exclamations of +admiration escaped them when they saw the long table +in the center of the room, with its bloom of hyacinths, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_363'></a>363</span> +gillyflowers, narcissus, daffodils, and tulips, all reminders +of the little beau-pots that adorned the window +sills, or peeped from the flower patches in front +of the gable-roofed houses in the days of the first +settlers. +</p> +<p> +Embowered in this floral display was a huge silver +bowl hung with tiny silver spoons. This was the +caudle dish, the inseparable accompaniment of feast +gatherings or when the <em>kinder</em> were christened. From +the hot, spicy odor that emanated from this relic of +Dutch festivity the girls knew it held something good. +</p> +<p> +But there was no more time to admire, for it was +now discovered that a flower was tied with daintily +colored ribbon to the back of each chair. Recognizing +that they were intended for place-cards, the girls flew +hurriedly around the table trying to find the flower +that matched the one on the cards they had received +from the windmill. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Van Vorst, typifying the first Dutch settlement +in the New World, now cordially welcomed her guests +with a few appropriate words. She was followed by +Nita, who, standing on the platform of her chair, recited +a greeting in Dutch—a little thing that Nathalie +had taught her—with quaint precision, while her eyes +twinkled humorously. +</p> +<p> +The edibles were now served, the little serving-maid +being Carol assisted by Peter attired as a herdsman in +low-heeled shoes, brass buckles, gray stockings, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_364'></a>364</span> +with a twisted cow’s horn hanging from his shoulder. +</p> +<p> +Roasted oysters served with hot split biscuits tempered +with butter were the first course. Then came +salmon à la Hollandaise and patriotic crabs, so called +because the settlers declared that they were the color of +the flag of the Prince of Orange. Frankfurters now +appeared, so deliciously prepared that the Pioneers +barely recognized their hike stand-by, served with carrots +and turnips garnished with parsley. Green salad +now followed with the caudle served from the silver +bowl, each girl ladling this particular Dutch dainty, +piping hot, into her own china cup. +</p> +<p> +The goodies were jellies, custards, <em>oly krecks</em>—sometimes +called doughnuts because of the tiny nut +in the center—krullers, <em>izer-cookies</em>, or waffles, syllabubs, +and many other toothsome sweets. All of +these viands were greatly enjoyed, not only because +they were of Dutch renown, but because they were +eaten, as their Director declared in memory of the +<em>goede vrouven</em> who helped their <em>goede</em> men to lay the +first stones of the great city of New York. +</p> +<p> +Every one was at their merriest when Annetje Jans, +who had suddenly grown unduly restive, arose in her +chair and holding her caudle cup high proposed a toast +to Madame New Amsterdam, Mrs. Van Vorst, their +hostess! +</p> +<p> +Immediately glasses were touched to the lady so +honored, who in return proposed a like honor for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_365'></a>365</span> +Madame Stuyvesant, Mrs. Morrow, the Director of +the Girl Pioneers of America. Little Miss New York +was now honored, who, as she bowed in response to +the loud clapping that followed her name, passed the +honor on to her friend, Miss Nathalie Page, in Dutch, +Madame Annetje Jans. +</p> +<p> +There was more applause in appreciation of Nita’s +tribute, although her voice was low and tremulous with +timidity at speaking before so many. But when Nathalie +rose on her feet to reply, the clapping grew so +vociferous that the color deepened her cheeks to a more +vivid pink. +</p> +<p> +But she stood her ground, and as the teasing girls +wearied of clapping she spoke. There was a slight +tremor in her voice, but she went steadily on, and after +expressing in the name of the Pioneers the great pleasure +it had given them to meet the daughter of their +hostess, voiced their desires in asking Miss Nita to +join with them in their endeavors to imitate the sterling +qualities of the early pioneer women, and to become +a Girl Pioneer of America! +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_366'></a>366</span><a name='chXXI' id='chXXI'></a>CHAPTER XXI—AN INVITATION</h2> +<p> +As Nathalie sank back in her seat glad to +think the ordeal—to her—of the day was +over, there was a moment’s silence, and then +every Pioneer was doing her best to second this invitation +to the daughter of their hostess by making as +loud a demonstration as possible. +</p> +<p> +Nita, as she heard this invitation, grew white, speechless +with surprise, but only for a moment, as the next +second, with joy shining in her eyes, she leaned over +crying in a tense whisper, “Oh, Mother, tell them yes! +Tell them yes!” +</p> +<p> +But Mrs. Van Vorst had already risen to her feet, +eyes smiling but tear dimmed as she gazed down at +the bright expectant faces upturned to hers. For a +moment she stood, and then in a voice broken by emotion +and pleasure thanked the Pioneers for an invitation +that she knew had been prompted by kindness and +that she appreciated more than she could express. Her +little daughter, as they all knew, was a shut-in. She +would be delighted to become one of a band of girls +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_367'></a>367</span> +who had proved so worthy of the name they bore, but, +her face saddened, would she not prove a burden to +them, for would it not require too much patience to +bear with one who perhaps had been over indulged on +account of her misfortune? +</p> +<p> +At this juncture Madame Stuyvesant stepped to her +side crying, “Oh, Mrs. Van Vorst, your little shut-in +is just the one I want my girls to be with, so that by +the patience they will acquire in her companionship +they will become more gentle and considerate to others. +And as for Miss Nita, the mingling with healthy, active +girls of her own age and the exercise and aid she will +derive from the sports, and industries—taken lightly +of course—I am sure will brighten her life in many +ways.” +</p> +<p> +A few more words from Helen, Lillie, and one or +two of the older girls, and Mrs. Van Vorst’s consent +was won, and Nita with bright, happy eyes was clapping +her hands very softly under the Starry Banner +that fell in folds across her chair. +</p> +<p> +Each girl in turn was then toasted, under the name +of the pioneer she impersonated, being required in response +to tell something about herself, as to who and +what part she had played in the days of New Amsterdam. +When the name of Mrs. Polly Prevoorst was +called, Lillie Bell stood up, and had just begun with +her usual dramatic gestures and intonations to relate +some little incident in the life of that noted lady, when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_368'></a>368</span> +a shrill falsetto voice shrieked, “Pretty Polly! Pretty +Polly! Polly want a cobble?” +</p> +<p> +There was a sudden turning and twisting of heads +and necks at this unlooked for interruption, to see who +was making sport of the fair lady, but before the +speaker could be seen, with a quick flutter of wings +Mr. Jimmie landed in the middle of the table. Surprise +caused the girls to exclaim and then laugh, as +they watched the new guest cocking his head from +side to side as he winked at them with his red-rimmed +eyes. +</p> +<p> +All at once his head stopped its restless motion, as +with a quick glance he seemed suddenly to spy Lillie +Bell, who was still standing, waiting for a chance to +deliver her little speech. The girls ceased to giggle +and with observant eyes wondered what was going to +happen. They did not have to wait long for Jimmie, +with another flash of his wings, screeched shrilly, +“Polly! Poor Polly! Polly want a petticoat—Polly—want +a petticoat?” +</p> +<p> +But Jimmie’s concern for the “Lady of Petticoat +Lane” was drowned in shouts of laughter, while Lillie +Bell with a reddened, embarrassed face sat down. +Thus Jimmie became the beau of the afternoon, as each +girl vainly tried to coax him with a sweetie to notice +her, but Jimmie disdained their advances and, flying +to the shoulder of Nathalie, evinced his partiality for +that young lady by chattering noisily, “Hell Nat! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_369'></a>369</span> +Ah—Blue Robin, pretty Blue Robin!” And then a +shrill Tru-al-lee, tru-al-lee! rang through the room. +</p> +<p> +But this effort to do the wise thing ended Jimmie’s +performance, for suddenly noting the applause that +greeted him, he set up such a hideous shrieking, interspersed +with fiendish laughter, that he was promptly +seized by Peter and carried from public sight to muse +on his sins in the privacy of his cage. +</p> +<p> +When Lillie’s tormentor disappeared she was able +to act the part of the fair Polly and relate the incident +she had striven so vainly to tell. As she finished, finding +that all the notables had been duly honored, the +girls again turned to the rather novel menus that they +had found in front of their plates. +</p> +<p> +These were post-card holders, rather dainty little +affairs of flowered silk that had contained post-cards, +one for each course that had been served. One was a +quaint little picture of New Amsterdam. Another was +a well-known building or landmark of old New York, +while others portraits of famous Dutch painters or +authors, each one with an appropriate inscription either +in Dutch or English. +</p> +<p> +These cards had excited many comments of admiration, +and as the girls’ attention was drawn to them +again Edith suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, girls, why see, +my post-card holder has a tiny white envelope in it!” +As she began to tear it open each girl turned eagerly to +hers and with renewed interest began to inspect it +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_370'></a>370</span> +again, while Mrs. Van Vorst and Nita with smiling +eyes watched the little by-play that was being enacted. +</p> +<p> +By this time Nathalie had read the contents of her +envelope and with eyes all alight was crying, “Oh, +girls! my envelope contains an invitation from Mrs. +Van Vorst as a Pioneer to camp—” +</p> +<p> +“At Eagle Lake!” broke in a chorus from the girls +as they excitedly flourished the bits of white paper to +and fro while watching Nathalie intently. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie was too dazed to speak, but in a moment, +as she realized that each girl present had been honored +with a similar invitation, she bent forward and began +to talk to Helen in low, hurried tones. When she finished +she was on her feet crying in tremulous voice, +“Oh, Mrs. Van Vorst—this seems too good to be +true—O dear, how are we to thank you for your kindness, +it is too much for us to accept!” +</p> +<p> +But her hostess was ready with a reply, as with +brightening eyes she answered, “Girls, the invitations +you have read I repeat, I want you Girl Pioneers to +spend the three weeks of your camp life at Eagle Lake. +I have a bungalow there and expect to leave for the +Lake next week, and shall be pleased to welcome you +there whenever you think best to come. +</p> +<p> +“The Lake is very beautiful, surrounded by woods +and within two or three miles of a town. Of course, +I have not accommodations for you all, but I have an +empty bungalow near mine, and a little log cabin that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_371'></a>371</span> +was once a summer house, so that with a few tents I +think you will find ample accommodations for your +three bird groups. And girls—” she spoke earnestly, +“I do not want you to thank me, for your thanks will +be the acceptance of this invitation and coming up to +the Lake and having a merry time. I am sure I stand +ready, and my daughter Nita, to help you towards +that end.” +</p> +<p> +As Mrs. Van Vorst finished Helen arose, and on +behalf of the Pioneers thanked her for her kind invitation. +“Indeed, Mrs. Van Vorst,” she continued, +“we shall be most pleased to camp at Eagle Lake—if +our Director is willing—and I hope that we shall be +able to show you that we are worthy the kindness you +have seen fit to extend to us. Now, girls—” +</p> +<p> + “Girl Pi-o-neers! Now give a cheer!<br /> + For our hostess so kind and dear!<br /> + Girl Pi-o-neers! again we cheer,<br /> + This time for Miss Nita, the dear!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +As the cheering ceased Mrs. Van Vorst stood again, +and in a few words declared she felt impelled to say +that the Pioneers should be very proud of a young lady +in their group who had so ably helped her in the arrangements +and the getting up of the afternoon’s festivity. +She would mention no names—Nathalie’s +face was a full-blown rose—as they all knew to whom +she referred, but she would like it known that the invitation +to the Lake had been given not only to furnish +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_372'></a>372</span> +pleasure to the Pioneers, but in appreciation of the +great kindness, sympathy, and aid that had been given +to her daughter and herself by that same Pioneer, a +kindness that she would always remember. +</p> +<p> +The girls, laughing and talking about the pleasure of +the <em>Kraeg</em>, of the joys and the future held in store for +them at camp, now returned to the sitting room. Here +they were greeted with another surprise in the shape +of a huge, unwieldy figure in baggy knee-breeches, full +skirted coat, wide-brimmed hat and long white beard +and locks, whom Mrs. Van Vorst presented as Father +Knickerbocker, although several declared that he was +the exact counterpart of the famous pictures of Rip +Van Winkle. +</p> +<p> +Whomever he personated was a matter of indifference +to the girls as long as his identity was concealed, +which was ably done behind a red-checked mask, +through the eye-holes of which two eyes glinted humorously +in merry jest or pleasantry as he joined the +girls in a game of quoits or a game of nine-pins which +Peter had arranged on an old billiard table. +</p> +<p> +As Nathalie and Helen were doing their best to beat +this strange antagonist, and at the same time to provoke +him to speech—as he would persist in playing he +was deaf and dumb—Peter led in an old darkey who, +with fiddle in hand, was soon squeaking away to the +delight of the girls. In a few moments old-time melodies +were heard, and they went flying over the floor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_373'></a>373</span> +in waltz, schottische, polka, and in many of the long-forgotten +dances. +</p> +<p> +When the dancing began the mysterious guest was +seen to edge towards the door, but Nathalie and Helen +were too quick for him, and in a moment he was surrounded +by a bevy of girls, each one begging him to +dance the Virginia reel with her. Even these many +honors failed to loosen the strings of his tongue, but +Nathalie did not despair. +</p> +<p> +Presently, as he had made this young lady his honored +choice in the dance, she was led up and down +the room, or twirled about like a pin-wheel. That +he was nimble of foot was soon perceived as they all +spun round like a merry-go-round. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Annetje was seen to whisper to her neighbor. +The whisper spread like a whirlwind, and all eyes +were soon fastened on the whirling Father as he +chasséed to the right and left of the merry girls. +Suddenly there was a stampede to his side, and the next +minute he was surrounded by a cordon of slim young +hands, while one of his assailants made a spring towards +him. Just another moment, and nose, beard, +and locks were on the floor, while his tormentors +laughed and danced merrily around their prisoner, a +good friend who had eased many of their aches and +pains, for it was no other but Dr. Morrow! +</p> +<p> +Four weeks later Nathalie stood on the veranda with +her arms around her mother. “Oh, Mumsie,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_374'></a>374</span> +wailed, “I hate to go and leave you!” She winked +hard, she was determined not to get lachrymose. “I +just wish I wasn’t going, it does seem so mean to leave +you here in this heat.” +</p> +<p> +“But, Daughter, I have Dick with me, and it is lovely +and cool here on the veranda. We shall not mind it +at all, and then you know the nights are generally comfortable +in August,” Mrs. Page ended with a cheery +smile. +</p> +<p> +“Mumsie, you’re a dear—” rejoined Nathalie with +another suppressed sniffle. “You’re just trying to +make the best of it, but—” +</p> +<p> +“There is no but about it,” answered her mother +quickly, “for I am afraid I am very selfish, but I shall +have to confess that there has been so much going on +these last days, well, I shall enjoy the rest and quiet. +Felia is here, too, and I shall have nothing to do but +to be—” +</p> +<p> +“Jolly!” broke in Dick at this moment, who for +some mysterious reason seemed unusually jubilant. +He had received a letter a few days before; Nathalie +had caught him reading it, but he had slipped it hurriedly +into his pocket as he saw her, declaring in answer +to her questioning that it was nothing, but nevertheless, +ever since that day he had seemed more like his old +self. +</p> +<p> +Did they really want to get rid of her? Was +Mamma in earnest? How much more cheerful she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_375'></a>375</span> +had seemed the last few days! These thoughts flashed +in quick succession through Nathalie’s brain. Somewhat +puzzled, but disarmed of her fears by these +signs of cheer from her loved ones, the girl bestowed +a final kiss all round, notwithstanding Dick’s protests, +who declared that he had been slobbered over about +fifty times already. Then she flew down the path and +into the automobile, where Mrs. Morrow, the kiddies, +and the doctor were waiting to drive her to the depot. +</p> +<p> +Seventeen happy girls, their hearts pulsating with +joyful anticipation, boarded the train at the New Jersey +Central that August morning. Notwithstanding +the fact that the day was intensely warm, their tongues, +hands, and feet kept up a ceaseless activity as they disposed +of their bags, valises, and the impedimenta that +they had found it impossible to squeeze into their +trunks, for it was rather tight packing when there were +two girls to a trunk. +</p> +<p> +Lillie Bell carried her mandolin, the Scribe her book +for reporting the many happenings that were to be, +while Barbara was burdened with several books on +bird, flower, and wood lore, for camp was the place +to study nature. With tennis-rackets and golf-bags +it certainly seemed as if those seventeen girls and their +belongings were going to fill the car. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow, who had a great dislike of annoying +people, began to look worried, but suddenly catching +sight of the faces of several of the passengers, all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_376'></a>376</span> +looking so smiling, so in sympathy with this young life and +its overflow of exuberance, as if they were enjoying the +clamor and bustle as much as the girls themselves, her +face relaxed. She broke into a smile of relief, although +shaking her head at two of the girls who were +making the greatest noise. +</p> +<p> +They finally settled in their seats, but as hands and +feet became more quiet, alas, it seemed as if the clack +of their tongues grew greater! They fell to discussing +their plans for the camp, the sports they would have, +and a thousand and one things that occupied their +minds at the present moment. +</p> +<p> +But even tongues need a rest, and the girls at last +quieted down and began to read, each one having provided +herself with some book to while away the hours. +After a time, however, they all seemed to tire of reading, +and growing restive had just started an argument +as to the respective merits of their books, when the +train dashed into a little wooden station and the conductor +yelled, “Eagle Lake!” +</p> +<p> +Bags, knapsacks, rackets, and all camping impedimenta +were hastily gathered up, and a few minutes +later the merry girls were crowding into an old-fashioned +stage that Mrs. Van Vorst had hired for the occasion, +giving due honor to the doctor and his wife +by sending her own automobile for them. +</p> +<p> +It was a delightful ride to the lake, and thoroughly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_377'></a>377</span> +enjoyed by the girls, who evinced their pleasure by +being unusually silent. Eyes were keenly alert, however, +noting the rolling patches of green meadows with +their grazing cows, the rippling brook meandering from +a hill near by, and the somber foliage of a long range +of low foothills in the distance crowned with a +misty haze. But the silence was broken when some +one spied a reddish gray chipmunk scurrying across the +road in frantic terror as he saw the many faces bearing +down upon him, and heard their hurried exclamations +of eager delight at this, the girls’ first glimpse +of one of the green forest people of Eagle Lake. +</p> +<p> +It was not long before the sheen of silver water +glimmered in the distance, bordered with somber foliage, +and then hearts beat quicker and voices grew +louder in excited hubbub as in a minute or so they +could see the cupola of Mrs. Van Vorst’s cottage +against the green of its shores. +</p> +<p> +After a joyous welcome from Mrs. Van Vorst and +Nita, seconded by Peter and Ellen, who all stood awaiting +them on the large veranda, the girls ran riot. With +swift steps they hurried—after first inspecting Mrs. +Van Vorst’s bungalow, so suggestive of luxury and +cozy cheer—to the smaller bungalow, where the Morrows +were to abide, with its big living-room abloom +with golden-rod. This was to be used as an assembly +room for the Pioneer Rallies. Then they hastened to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_378'></a>378</span> +the little wooden shack, which they dubbed the Grub +House, as it was here that the camp cooking was to be +done. +</p> +<p> +After duly admiring the boat-house, which they all +declared would make a lovely place for a dance, they +were conducted by Peter to the loft above, where he +stood silently enjoying their delight as they exclaimed +over this unexpected surprise. It had been turned into +a good sized bedroom with two bureaus, a center-table, +a few odd chairs, and four little white cots, looking so +restful that the Sport declared she wanted to go to +bed that very second. +</p> +<p> +But their rhapsodies came to an abrupt end as Lillie +Bell suddenly spied the Lake from one of the windows. +In a moment the girls were crowding about her, gazing +in hushed silence at the silver sheet of water—three +miles round Peter informed them—with its enticing +little inlets, or coves, and tiny islands running like a +series of stepping-stones through the center. +</p> +<p> +The Sport had caught sight of several newly painted +boats and canoes that bobbed cheerily at her, moored to +the pier below, and a moment later the girls were off +like a cavalcade of young Indians to inspect them, for +did they not all have to be named on the morrow, +when a general christening of all camp tents, boats, +and so on was to take place? +</p> +<p> +But there were other things to claim a share of their +hearts’ joy they found, as Carol, who made the seventeenth +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_379'></a>379</span> +camper, suddenly saw a large tent on the edge +of the woods to which they all made a mad rush. Here +they found the doctor and his wife, who said it was an +army tent that had been loaned, put up, and furnished +by that good lady, Mrs. Van Vorst. Lifting the flap +the girls peeped in to see four more tiny cots, a little +book-case made from soap-boxes by Peter, and the +usual camp furniture staring at them invitingly. +</p> +<p> +A tiny log cabin was also inspected—Peter said it +had once been a summer-house—which contained two +cots. But time was limited, and Dr. Morrow—who +was for the time being captain of the working squad—began +to issue his orders. All baggage and camp +equipment had arrived the day before and the girls +were soon busily engaged in putting up tents. It meant +lots of work, but each one was at her cheeriest best +as she overhauled canvases, measured spaces, dug pole-holes, +sewed on rings for tape, tied ropes, and performed +the various odd jobs necessary to have the camp +city in shape before night. +</p> +<p> +As Mrs. Van Vorst had generously provided so +many sleeping accommodations, there were only three +tents to be erected, an old canvas tent which the doctor +had loaned, an Indian tepee belonging to the brother of +one of the Orioles, and a natty little affair made of +heavy cotton sheeting. It is needless to say that this +was the pride of Helen’s and Nathalie’s hearts, the tent +they had wrestled with through many toilsome hours +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_380'></a>380</span> +on the rear lawn, with Fred Tyson doing duty as a +master tent-maker. +</p> +<p> +When the tents were erected with openings to the +East, in a row by the water, backed by a belt of woodland, +whose pungent odors added a zest to the girls’ +ideals of the camp life, Nathalie and Helen hurried +to their tent to unpack. The big packing-box which +had served as a trunk for two was hastily turned on +its narrowest side, with open side to the tent, and then +with hammer and nails converted into a combination +arrangement of book-case and dresser, the top having +a piece of white shelf oilcloth tacked on it. +</p> +<p> +Here pincushions, hair-pin trays, brushes, and various +toilet articles, with cologne, lotion, and medicine +bottles—the last in case of need—were hastily bestowed. +On the upper shelf books were stored—for +the story hour—while the other shelves were quickly +filled with all sorts of knick-knacks, things they just +had to have, even in the wilderness, as Helen had +affirmed. +</p> +<p> +Two ropes, one on each side of the tent, were fastened +up so that each girl could have a handy place to +dispose of superfluous articles of wearing apparel. +There was also a smaller one near the soap-box with its +little tin pitcher and bowl, to serve as a towel-rack. +After hanging a mirror for mutual use and tacking on +the floor between the cots a pink and blue cotton rug—Mrs. +Page’s idea and gift—they started on the beds. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_381'></a>381</span> +These were real camping affairs, and would ordinarily +have meant hard labor, but Peter, who had been let +into the secret before he left Westport, had already cut +eight logs, four to a bed frame, one on each side of the +tent, and had brought the dry evergreen boughs. +</p> +<p> +With the boughs the girls filled the frames, and after +stuffing two ticking bags with dry leaves and grass, +they placed them on the beds, and covered them with +rubber sheets and blankets. They were then made up +with sheets and double blankets, and then after throwing +a number of sofa pillows about—to be used at +night for pillows—the tent-makers were ready to +hold an impromptu reception to their Pioneer friends. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie now played the part of town crier and +rushed hither and thither inviting the guests to their +camp nest in the woods. The girls quickly gathered +and, after due examination, expressed by cries of praise +their admiration of the handiness and deftness displayed +by the two girls, and the first tent feast was +held. To be sure, it was only crackers and fruit left +from the girls’ lunch-boxes, but they filled the bill, so +that when the bugle sounded its clarion blast, as Lillie +expressed it, the pangs of hunger being appeased, the +girls all hastened with joyful steps to Mrs. Morrow’s +bungalow to hold their first Pioneer Rally. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow, as presiding officer, in a short space +of time was able to despatch considerable camp business, +the girls having had so many discussions that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_382'></a>382</span> +their plans were matured and no time was lost in needless +talk. It was quickly settled to name the camp +“Laff-a-Lot,” to govern it as a city, with the girls as +citizens with power to elect their own officials, which +meant a mayor, a board of aldermen, a justice of the +court as well as a clerk and an attorney in case of need, +and the squads. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow was immediately chosen mayor, and +the squads elected. There was the Coast Squad, composed +of two Pioneers whose duty it was to sound the +bugle for taps at six, for a dip in the Lake at quarter +past, the call for breakfast at seven and the succeeding +meals, for bathing drill at eleven, and all other calls required +by camp regulations. This squad was also to +see that the coast was kept clear of débrís, that the +bathers observed all rules, and was to give the alarm +and act in command of the rescue committee in times +of danger. +</p> +<p> +The Tent Squad was to see that the girls kept their +tents in regulation order,—each girl to make her own +bed and so on,—and that all sanitary rules were carried +out according to schedule. +</p> +<p> +The Grub Squad meant two cooks, a chief and an +assistant, and two helpers or waitresses. Each girl, of +course, was required to bring her own plate, cup, +saucer, bowl, knife, and fork, and see that they were +washed, dried, and placed on the shelf, as well as to +wash her own drying-towel. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_383'></a>383</span> +</p> +<p> +The Rally Squad was composed of one person—considered +the most important member of camp—to +act as officer of the day by planning with the mayor the +day’s program, reporting this at breakfast, and seeing +that all notices, as well as the schedule for the day’s +events, were duly written on the bulletin each morning. +</p> +<p> +The Board of Aldermen was made up of the first +member of each Squad. All officials, with the exception +of the mayor and court officers, were to serve for +three days only, and the members of all squads were +to be chosen according to their qualifications for the +work as determined by the number of merit badges. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the Rally was over, the girls made a rush +for the Lake, as every one was wild to go on its gleaming +surface that shone under the rays of the dipping +sun like a silver shield, burnished with the golden red +of the West. +</p> +<p> +But Helen, who declared it was too late to enjoy +that pleasure as it was so near supper time, was rudely +interrupted by Lillie Bell, who had been peering with +intent eyes across the water. Suddenly she gave a +low cry and pointed to a solitary figure on the opposite +bank dragging a row-boat from the water. +</p> +<p> +Instantly all eyes were riveted in that direction as +each girl vainly tried to decide whether the figure belonged +to a man or a woman. “Oh, I know!” +screamed the Sport frantically after a short stare +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_384'></a>384</span> +opposite. “Girls, yes, it’s a Scout! See he has on a +khaki suit, and his staff, oh, where do you suppose he +could have come from!” she said, looking up at the +girls with delighted inquiry in her sparkling eyes. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_385'></a>385</span><a name='chXXII' id='chXXII'></a>CHAPTER XXII—CAMP LAFF-A-LOT</h2> +<p> +“O fiddle!” exclaimed Lillie squelchingly. +“You have got scouts on the brain! +Where would a scout come from up here in +these wilds?” +</p> +<p> +But Edith was not to be gainsaid and had flown post-haste +up to the Morrows’ bungalow to reappear a few +moments later with a field glass. Raising it she began +to yell triumphantly, “There, girls—I’m right—it +is a scout! a real scout!” In a moment she was surrounded +by a bevy of girls, each one begging for the +loan of the glasses, but Edith was whimsical, and refusing +to comply handed the glasses to Helen, who, +after a calm survey of the bank on the other side of +the Lake, declared that Edith was right and that it +was a scout. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, do you think—” exclaimed some one. But +no one stopped to think, for at that moment the clear +notes of the bugle announced supper, driving all +thoughts of scouts from the heads of the famished girls +as with a cheer of delight they made a swift rush for +cup, plate, saucer, and headed for the dining-room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_386'></a>386</span> +</p> +<p> +It was a tired lot of girls who, with sharpened appetites +but dismayed faces, gazed at the slim array of +eatables that confronted them at this, their first camp +meal. Nathalie made a wry face, but as she heard +Helen’s reminder that every one was to be satisfied +even if she ate tacks, she smiled in attempted contentment +and started in on mush. +</p> +<p> +But tacks were not to be on the menu that night, for +Peter suddenly appeared, and with his best bow presented +a big platter of cold chicken with Mrs. Van +Vorst’s compliments. Everything now went as merrily +as a wedding feast. Really, it was surprising how +that chicken lasted, for the girls had attacked it with +grim determination. Nathalie half suspected that +Peter had a secret supply hidden under the table, for +every one had all she wanted and still there was more. +</p> +<p> +Supper was soon over and, then after each girl had +washed her own table-ware and laid it in its place, they +hied themselves down to the water’s edge. Here, in +sweaters and caps—as the air was chilly—they +listened to the crooning melodies of nature, and +watched for life on the opposite shore—reminded +again of that scout—and talked, well, just the things +that a lot of happy girls would discuss with the prospect +of three glorious weeks in the open before them. +</p> +<p> +A trill of song from a hermit thrush in the woods +near-by stirred the hearts of the music-lovers and soon +the campers were singing, “Suwanee River,” to Lillie’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_387'></a>387</span> +thrumming accompaniment on the mandolin. Then +came “Tenting on the Old Camp Ground,” “Oh, My +Darling Clementine,” and a host of songs familiar and +dear to the heart of youth. +</p> +<p> +As they ended the last line of “Bring Back My Bonnie +to Me,” every one suddenly sat up and took notice, +while an impetuous one called out, “Oh, what was +that?” +</p> +<p> +“Some one is mocking us!” added another listener. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, nonsense,” laughed Helen, whose ear for music +was not keen, “that’s an echo!” +</p> +<p> +But it proved to be no echo, for as the girls started +in again to sing they found that if they stopped suddenly, +the voices, which they now recognized as coming +from the other shore, would continue with the song. +This created no end of laughter among the girls, and +their surprise and amusement increased as they recognized +that their friends on the other side of the Lake +laughed when they laughed, as if in mockery. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” suggested Kitty, “let’s +give the Pioneer yell and see if they answer.” This +was no sooner suggested than it was done, but not a +sound was heard, no, not even an echo in reply. +</p> +<p> +“Well, they can’t be scouts,” said an Oriole, “or +they would answer in some way.” +</p> +<p> +“Let’s sing, ‘We’re Pioneers,’ and then they’ll know +who we are, anyway,” some one proposed, a little more +cheerily. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_388'></a>388</span> +</p> +<p> +This proposition met with favor, and the girls were +soon singing with a zest and verve that deserved a +reward, but as before a dead silence greeted their +efforts. +</p> +<p> +The campers felt inconsolable, for some of them had +already begun to dream of the fun they would have +if there were some jolly scouts about, especially if they +proved as chivalrous and as manly as the scouts at +Westport. As the girls discussed ways and means of +making these strange neighbors reveal who they were, +suddenly from the other shore came in stentorian tones, +evidently through a megaphone, “Be prepared!” +This startling announcement was immediately followed +by a chorus of male voices singing with hearty +gusto, “Zing-a-Zing! Bom! Bom!” to the accompaniment +of a loud sound, as if every one was pounding +on a tin pan. +</p> +<p> +The girls sat stunned with surprise for a moment +and then Edith cried, “Why, they can’t be scouts after +all, for that is not the salute used by the Westport +Scouts.” +</p> +<p> +“Huh! but that is just what they are—scouts,” +cried one of the Orioles quickly, “for that is the national +salute. My brother has a Scout book and I +have seen their call.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, they’re not Westport Scouts, that’s one sure +thing,” voiced one of the girls who had been dreaming. +</p> +<p> +“What difference does that make,” cried Lillie, “as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_389'></a>389</span> +long as they are scouts? But don’t you think we girls +ought to make some return, hadn’t we better sing our +Pioneer—” But before the girls could answer they +heard the scout salute again. As they clapped an encore, +the Sport blowing the bugle to add to the demonstration +of praise, their neighbors broke into song. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it is a song to us, a serenade!” ejaculated one +of the girls; and then as each one grew silent they +heard: +</p> +<p> + “Welcome! Welcome! sisters dear,<br /> + As we round our fire’s cheer<br /> + We wish you luck in camp so fine<br /> + Sweet with birch and wooded pine.<br /> + Pleasure and joy attend each day,<br /> + As by the Lake you make your stay!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, isn’t that just dandy?” “If we could only +tell who they were!” But these exclamations came to +an end as Nathalie cried, “Girls, let’s shout our new +call, don’t you know the one we made up so as to salute +the scouts? Now, ready!” and with a “One! two! +three!” the girls’ voices rang out over the water as they +chorused: +</p> +<p> + “Ragglety! Pagglety! Rah! Rah! Rah!<br /> + You’re welcome scouts with a Ha! Ha! Ha!<br /> + Comrades and friends, we’ll make the woods hum<br /> + When you to Camp Laff-a-Lot come.<br /> + For your wishes we’ll give you three cheers,<br /> + Hurrah for Scouts and Girl Pioneers!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +“Why, Nathalie, you changed the words!” cried +one or two slow ones as they perceived that the girl +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_390'></a>390</span> +had substituted certain words that were more appropriate +to the occasion than the ones they had learned. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie only laughed, and waved her hand for silence +as the little company of merry, fun-loving girls +listened to the noise their neighbors were making. +Certainly it was a medley of sounds, for it appeared as +if horns, tin pans, and just about everything capable +of making a racket had been called into service in their +appreciation of the fair ones’ ready reply to their song. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow appeared at this moment with the announcement +that it was nine o’clock, and according to +camp rules all Pioneers were to be in bed by that hour, +so the girls sounded a parting cheer and then hurried +to their tents. The few who loitered, as if reluctant +to leave their friends across the lake, heard an old-time +good-night song with one or two variations in words +that added to its charms ring out clearly: +</p> +<p> + “Good-night, campers,<br /> + Good-night campers,<br /> + Good-night campers,<br /> + We’re going to leave you now!<br /> + Merrily we roll along, roll along, roll along;<br /> + Merrily we roll along, o’er the dark blue sea.”<br /> +</p> +<p> +A few moments before six the next morning Nathalie +opened her eyes, yawned drowsily, and then +rolled over to see Helen staring at her from the opposite +bed with wide-open eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I have had such a delicious sleep,” she cried. +“I don’t believe I wakened from the time I touched the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_391'></a>391</span> +pillow. Helen, isn’t it just too lovely up here in these +woods? Did you hear that whippoorwill toot just +after we got into bed? And these bough beds, aren’t +they the coziest—” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you’ll get coziest with a vengeance, Blue +Robin,” was Helen’s terse reply, “if you don’t get into +your bathing-suit—” Helen ended with a shrill scream +as the bugle’s blast sounded with startling clearness in +the still morning air. +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie was already half-way into her suit. +The last button was caught. “There, I’m ready before +you, Miss Poke!” she taunted gleefully, as the second +call sounded. The two girls tripped lightly across the +open space in front of the tents thickly strewn with pine +needles and thus on down to the boathouse pier. +</p> +<p> +Just a moment and a slim figure was seen leaping +through the air, then Nathalie arose like a mermaid +from the sea, blowing and puffing the water from her +mouth as she floated for a moment on her back and +swam gracefully back to the bank. As she reached +shallow water she stood up and waved her hand to a +group of shivering ones on the bank crying, “Oh, +come on, kiddies! +</p> +<p> +“Sure, it’s cold!” she nodded to a faint remonstrance +from a timorous one, “but you’ll get heated if +you’ll take the plunge!” +</p> +<p> +Out from her dip, with the wish that it could have +been longer, she hurried to her tent; after a rub came +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_392'></a>392</span> +the dressing, the picking up of her clothes, the putting +her bed to air, and then the call for breakfast. +</p> +<p> +After this meal came the event of the day, the naming +of the camp, the tents, and the boats. Camp duties +were soon disposed of and then there was a general +stampede to Mrs. Morrow’s bungalow, where the +Sport, as chairman of this committee, stood waving +the Stars and Stripes on the roof of the veranda. +</p> +<p> +A cheer arose a few moments later when its bright +colors fluttered gently to and fro in the morning wind +from the flag staff that had been hoisted over the Director’s +abiding-place, and the girls, quickly forming +in line, gave the flag salute. The Star Spangled Banner +was then sung with a heartiness that found its echo +in the woods, the very leaves on the trees seeming to +rustle in reverence to the country’s honored emblem. +</p> +<p> +The campers now gathered before Mrs. Van Vorst’s +bungalow, where, from a high flagstaff erected by +Peter, a white flag fluttered gracefully to the breezes, +disclosing in red letters the words, “Camp Laff-a-Lot.” +Beneath this flag curled a smaller one, also +white, bearing in blue letters, “The Girl Pioneers of +America.” +</p> +<p> +Some one was just about to mount a ladder placed +against the flagstaff when Nathalie, with sudden +thought, turned and whispered to Mrs. Morrow, who +immediately signaled to Helen. Helen nodded as she +listened to her Director, and then stepping forward +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_393'></a>393</span> +stood before Nita who, with her mother and Ellen, was +a joyful spectator of this camp demonstration. A +sudden look of delight overspread her face as she heard +what Helen had to say, and then after a hurried assent +from Mrs. Van Vorst, Nita with the help of Peter +had mounted the ladder, holding a bottle of water in +her hand. +</p> +<p> +A swing of the bottle, a crash of glass, a stream of +water trickling down the pole, and Nita in a voice +somewhat faint at first, but that grew louder as she +caught Nathalie’s eye, cried, “Summer camp of the +Girl Pioneers of America, I name thee, Camp Laff-a-Lot!” +Wild bursts of applause now broke forth, even +Ellen and Peter doing their share, the former tearing +off her apron and flapping it vigorously, while the +latter brandished his hat hilariously, stopping every +moment or so to rub the back of his hand across his +eyes. “Sure,” as he afterwards confessed to Nathalie, +“it was enough to make any one weep with joy +to see Miss Nita spilling all over with happiness!” +</p> +<p> +As the Pioneers hastened to the boat-house they +saw a diminutive figure standing on the top of its little +square cupola. With many flourishes of her bottle +Carol—who had been elected to this honor—chimed +jubilantly, “Boat-house, in memory of the ship that +crossed the unknown sea to carry the founders of this +nation to its shores, I now name thee, ‘The Mayflower’!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_394'></a>394</span> +</p> +<p> +And so the naming continued, the little log summer-house +being honored by the name of Ann Burras, a +pioneer of the Jamestown colony, known as the first +white bride in America. The tent loaned by Mrs. Van +Vorst was dubbed “The Three Guardian Angels,” in +appreciation of the services of Ann Drummond, Sarah +Cottin, and Mrs. Cheisman, also of the Jamestown company, +sometimes known as “The White Apron Brigade,” +as during the Bacon rebellion they were placed +in front of a trench where Bacon’s men were digging, +to prevent Governor Berkeley from firing on the Fort. +</p> +<p> +The “Grub House” was to be known as the “Common +House,” a most appropriate name, the campers declared, +as it contained their food and ammunition, just +as the little log hut known by that name held the necessities +to sustain and defend the lives of the Pilgrims +in the Plymouth settlement. +</p> +<p> +The doctor’s army tent was named the “Three Margarets,” +to honor Margaret Brent of Maryland, the +first woman suffragist, Margaret Draper, the first +woman to publish a newspaper, and Margaret Duncan, +the first of her sex in the new world to engage in mercantile +life. Helen and Nathalie’s tent was to be +known as the “Two Anns,” out of respect to Ann +Hutchinson, the first club woman, and Ann Bradstreet, +the first American poetess. +</p> +<p> +The boats were quickly honored with the names +<em>Priscilla</em>, <em>Mary Chilton</em>, <em>Annetje Jans</em>, and +<em>Polly Prevoorst</em>, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_395'></a>395</span> +while shady retreats, lofty trees, and rocky +coves were named anew to do homage to those women +who helped their good sires build the foundation of +this great Republic, by being faithful, enduring wives +and mothers. +</p> +<p> +At eleven o’clock the girls assembled on the shores +of the Lake for a life-saving drill. Forming in line +at a given signal, each girl quickly unfastened her red +necktie, and turning swiftly to the right tied one end +of it in a square knot to her neighbor’s. This red life-line +was then thrown to the sinker—as the girls +dubbed Edith, who was playing the part of the person +drowning. She hurriedly grabbed this necktie rope +and was drawn ashore by her comrades. +</p> +<p> +The girls found that this drill not only made them +keen and alert, training them to keep cool heads, but +helped to give them reliance as well as courage, and—heaps +of fun. +</p> +<p> +The bathers were now lined up for a swimming contest, +each girl at the toot of the horn making a wild +dash for the water, and swimming out as far as she +could to the stake-boat, manned by the doctor, anchored +some distance from shore. This contest was to determine +not only who could swim, and the best swimmers, +but those who had the greatest amount of strength and +endurance, who would be able to train others not so +competent. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, who had spent a number of summers at a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_396'></a>396</span> +seaside resort and therefore was at home in the +water, found to her surprise that she, Helen, and Edith +were the three best swimmers of the campers. This +was as much of a surprise to her as to the Pioneers, +for, supposing that she was a swimmer of only average +skill, she had never even told that she could swim. +</p> +<p> +Drills and contests being over, the girls were allowed +to do as they liked, and so were soon gambolling +about in the water, having the merriest time running +races in the more shallow water, ducking one another, +or teaching some more timid one to swim or dive. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie and Helen had rowed out some distance +from shore and were practicing diving by jumping +from the boat. “Now!” Helen would shout as they +stood poised in the center, “One! Two! Three!” +The next instant there would be a flash of pointed +hands, a sweep of blue bathing-suits—like bluebirds +skimming through the air—a splash, and then first +one head would appear and then the other, each one +blowing and puffing water from her eyes and nose like +a porpoise. +</p> +<p> +“O dear,” exclaimed Nathalie suddenly as the two +girls sat sunning themselves in the boat, “here comes +the Sport. I wonder what she is up to now!” +</p> +<p> +But it was all in a morning’s fun, and the three girls +were soon having fine sport as a diving team of three. +Tired at last, they settled for a short rest, Helen and +Nathalie laughing merrily as they watched Lillie Bell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_397'></a>397</span> +trying to induce Carol to do something more than wet +her feet. Suddenly there came a shove, and a second +later the two girls went splashing head-foremost into +the water! +</p> +<p> +A few moments and they bobbed up, not at all +serenely, as they sputtered and gasped, struggling to +eject the water from eyes and noses. Helen, seeing +Edith disporting herself some distance away, demanded +with flashing eyes, “What did you do that +for?” while Nathalie, whose cheeks were sea pink, +sputtered between gasps, “Edith, I think you are just +as mean as you can be!” +</p> +<p> +But the Sport was off, waving her hand at them +derisively as she swam rapidly towards shore. The +girls by this time had righted their cockle-shell, which +they found floating right side up with the tide, and +after clambering in Helen grabbed the oars, exclaiming +wrathfully, “Oh, how I would like to get even with +her for that!” +</p> +<p> +“So would I!” echoed her friend. “It does seem +as if the imp himself was in that girl sometimes. But +wait, I’ll get one on her yet, see if I don’t.” +</p> +<p> +Full of the ozone of the forest and animated by that +spirit of exploration that always inspires one in a new +place, directly after lunch the Pioneers with staffs, +knapsacks, and note-books, lined up for an afternoon +tramp. To vary the adventure it had been decided to +name it a salmagundi hike, which meant a tramp of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_398'></a>398</span> +observation, each girl aiming to see how many things +she could observe, birds, animals, flowers, or leaves, +in fact, anything that was to be seen in the field or +woods. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie had prepared for the expedition in glad +anticipation, being particularly anxious to get in touch +with so many things that she lacked of nature’s many +lores, but when she caught sight of the disappointed +face of Nita, who was not, as yet, equal to a hike her +spirits sank to zero. +</p> +<p> +Somehow her conscience would not be downed as +it urged her to atone in some way to Nita for the many +things that she was forced to be deprived of in her +young girlhood. “No, I do not believe it is my place +to stay with her,” argued Nathalie’s naughty self, “for +I have already given up a great deal of time and fun +in qualifying her to become a Pioneer. And then if I +once begin by staying with her she will want me to +remain all the time, and I shall never have a bit of fun.” +</p> +<p> +But after a short inward struggle Nathalie pleaded +that she was tired, and declared she was going to remain +at home and have a good cozy chat with Nita. +</p> +<p> +The joy that shown on Nita’s face at this declaration +compensated her for her sacrifice, and she was +just trying to think what she could do to make the time +pass pleasantly for the girl when a sudden loud shout +sounded from the woods. Before the girls could question +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_399'></a>399</span> +as to what it was a chorus of boyish voices were +heard shouting: +</p> +<p> + “Ready! Ready! Scout! Scout! Scout!<br /> + Good turn daily. Shout! Shout! Shout!”<br /> +</p> +<p> +For one moment the girls stared in dazed amazement, +why—oh! that was the salute call of the Westport +Scouts! But all thought came to an end a minute +later as a troop of boys in brown suddenly appeared at +a bend of the road leading from the woods. As they +spied the Pioneers they broke into wild shouts and +whistles, energetically waving handkerchiefs, staffs, +anything they could muster, while the foremost one, +no other than Dr. Homer, twirled his hat over his +head hilariously. +</p> +<p> +In a few moments the scout mystery was solved as +the girls stood surrounded by the Eagle Patrol of +Westport, every one talking eagerly, some telling how +they came to be there, while others were having great +sport as they teased the girls about how nicely they +had fooled them. It soon developed that the doctor +and his wife were in the secret; in fact, Mrs. Morrow +said that the doctor had chuckled so when he saw how +mystified the girls were when they heard the calls from +across the Lake, that she feared he would spring the +surprise before it was time. +</p> +<p> +Yes, the scouts of Westport, who had been thinking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_400'></a>400</span> +of a three weeks’ tramp in some place not too far from +the city, after hearing how Mrs. Van Vorst had invited +the Pioneers to camp at Eagle Lake, had gone to +that lady, and after due inquiries had made their plans +to camp at the same time as the girls, only on the opposite +shore of the Lake. +</p> +<p> +Finding that the girls were bound for a tramp, the +scouts, through Dr. Homer, begged permission to accompany +them. The girls quickly gave their assent, +and in a short space the hikers set out for a survey of +the land, all but Fred Tyson, who lingered at Nathalie’s +side as if waiting for her to join them. +</p> +<p> +Seeing, however, that Nathalie made no attempt to +follow the others, he asked with puzzled eyes, “What’s +the matter, Miss Blue Robin, aren’t you going to +hike?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie choked for a moment, then gaining control +of her emotions, with an attempt at a smile returned, +“Why, no, I’m tired, you know we have been working +awfully hard ever since we came—getting the camp +in shape—” she had caught a glimpse of Nita’s keen +eyes—“so I thought I’d just stay at home and rest +with Nita. You know, she can’t stand a long walk.” +This was said in a lower tone. +</p> +<p> +Fred’s face showed disappointment, and then he +cried boyishly, “Oh, I say, Miss Nathalie, you’ll miss +all the fun!” Then, as if half suspecting what might +be the cause of Nathalie’s staying at home, he said, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_401'></a>401</span> +“As for Miss Nita, if she wants to come with us we’ll +fix it so she won’t have to walk a step!” +</p> +<p> +Putting his fingers to his mouth he emitted a sharp +whistle, which two scouts lagging in the rear heard +and immediately turned about and retraced their steps. +“Here,” continued Fred, “you fellows improvise a +stretcher to carry Miss Nita so she can hike with us!” +</p> +<p> +Nita’s eyes began to gleam, but Mrs. Van Vorst approaching +from the other end of the veranda at this +moment, and hearing of the proposed plan of navigation, +demurred, thanking the boys most graciously for +their kindness, but declining to let Nita go, claiming +that it would be too much for her that warm day. +</p> +<p> +Fred, thus forced to be content, after a lingering +look of regret raised his cap and then hurriedly joined +the party who were already disappearing in the winding +path of the woods. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, with an unconscious sigh, turned away. +O dear, it did seem mean to have to give up that walk. +It had been hard enough to win the first battle over the +temptation to go, but this second one had seemed even +harder. But immediately seeing that she was a great +baby to let a little disappointment mar the pleasure of +the beautiful day, she turned with smiling eyes to the +princess, and suggested that they have a nice little row +to one of the tiny islands in the center of the Lake. +</p> +<p> +This, Nita was very glad to do, and so with notebooks +and pencils, and with the remark that they could +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_402'></a>402</span> +have a nice little salmagundi hike all by their lone +selves, they started for the boat-house. +</p> +<p> +And indeed, Nathalie and her little friend spent a +most enjoyable afternoon, for, as she afterwards declared +to Helen, “It was lovely and cool down on that +little island with the green trees and shady coves. +And do you know,” she continued, “I was so surprised, +for Nita is a most observant little person. Why, she +knows the names of many of the grasses and wood +flowers, and the birds—she knows their names, can +tell what birds are nesting in August and any number +of interesting things about nature. I am sure she will +make a most wonderful little Pioneer, after she becomes +acquainted with the girls.” +</p> +<p> +Of course Helen had many things to tell about the +salmagundi hike, and the different objects they had +seen and noted on their tramp. She had taken notes +and Nathalie was invited to take a peep at them some +time, Helen suggesting that she might find them of +some help later on. The scouts, she said, had been +most kind and had told them lots of interesting things, +particularly about tracking the footprints of animals. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” declared Nathalie as Helen finished telling +of the good times they had had, “I have had two good +times, instead of your one, for I had a fine time with +Nita, and then I have had the coziest of chats with you, +which has proved almost as good as if I had been with +you on the hike.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_403'></a>403</span><a name='chXXIII' id='chXXIII'></a>CHAPTER XXIII—MISS CAMPHELIA</h2> +<p> +A week had passed, and although the novelty +of many of the activities and pleasures of this +life in the open had dulled, every moment +proved one of joy. Drills, contests, sports, hikes, and +various entertainments had merged so evenly, one into +the other, that tasks had lost their irksomeness and +play had received an added zest. +</p> +<p> +To be sure, some unfortunate accidents had happened; +Grace had cut her hand when opening a can +of tomatoes, Carol had been stung by some mysterious +insect so severely that even the doctor was puzzled, and +one of the Orioles had sprained her ankle. But these +mishaps had been received with true camp fortitude—the +Pioneer spirit, Helen called it—and had only +served as object lessons in the First Aid to the Injured +talks given by Dr. Morrow, thus giving Helen and +Kitty a chance to display their expertness in the triangular, +the four-tailed, and many other kinds of +bandages. +</p> +<p> +Hammers, saws, and hatchets were in great demand +one morning—the girls all busy making stilts, some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_404'></a>404</span> +to show their scout friends that they could handle men’s +tools, while others were qualifying for first-class Pioneers—when +Lillie appeared. With woebegone +face she reported to Nathalie, who was serving as her +assistant on the Grub committee, that there was no +milk. +</p> +<p> +“No milk?” ejaculated the girl. “Why, wasn’t +the milkman here this morning?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure,” nodded Lillie, “but that Oriole girl—Nannie +Plummer—dropped some swill into the milk +can. She mistook it for the garbage pail—” Lillie’s +eyes glinted humorously—“she was so busy expressing +her admiration for that Will Hopper, you know +the scout with the languishing eyes, as Helen calls +them.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s face expressed dismay. “Oh, what shall +we do?” she almost wailed; “we have got to have +milk for that pudding, and—” +</p> +<p> +“To be sure,” laconically returned Lillie, “and you +will have to go and get some.” +</p> +<p> +“Get some?” echoed Nathalie faintly; “where?” +</p> +<p> +“At the farm-house, you know the place—with the +red barn—on the road to Boonton.” +</p> +<p> +“But there isn’t time for me to walk there and back +before dinner,” protested the girl somewhat wrathfully, +“on this hot day, too!” +</p> +<p> +“No, but you can take Edith’s bicycle, and go and +get back in no time.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_405'></a>405</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but it is hot!” ejaculated Nathalie, some fifteen +minutes later, as with reddened, perspiring face +she slowed up her wheel, and spying a mossy bank +overlooking a brook meandering beneath a group of +willows, jumped to the ground. As she was standing +her wheel against a tree, a woman with a reddish handkerchief +tied over her head came up the bank. She +started when she saw Nathalie, but instantly averting +her eyes hurried on down the road in the direction of +the farm-house where Nathalie was to get the milk. +</p> +<p> +The girl had thrown herself on the grassy slope and +was fanning vigorously with her hat, when her eyes +were arrested by something white lying under an +overhanging bush near the brook. Perhaps she would +not have stared so intently if she had not thought that +she saw it move. Just at that moment a low wailing +cry came to her ears. +</p> +<p> +Assured beyond doubt that the cry came from the +bundle, she hurried down the slope, and a moment +later was bending over a baby, who, on seeing the wondering +face, looked up with innocent appeal in its wide +blue eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Why, you dear,” cooed the girl, “how did you +come here?” She looked up expecting to see some +one to whom the baby belonged, but as there was no +one in sight and she saw the little lip quiver pathetically, +she gathered it up in her arms and chucking the +dimpled chin began to jabber to it in baby language. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_406'></a>406</span> +</p> +<p> +“Whom do you belong to, baby?” she questioned +aloud, silently wondering if that tramp woman who +had come up the bank could have been its mother. +But that could hardly be, she pondered, for she looked +like an Italian, while the baby was fair with tiny wisps +of golden hair straying from beneath its neat white cap. +</p> +<p> +Reminded finally that the camp’s need of milk was +urgent, she laid the baby down and ran along the bank +first in one direction, and then the other, shouting and +calling until her voice was hoarse. O dear, what +should she do? She could not leave that dear thing +there alone! Ah, she would take it with her to the +farm-house, perhaps Mrs. Hansen might know something +about it. +</p> +<p> +Carrying her find with one arm and trundling her +wheel with the other hand, she arrived in a short space +at her destination. But alas, she met with no satisfaction. +Mrs. Hansen declared that in all probability the +woman was a gypsy, as there was a settlement of them +some miles beyond the town and that she had purposely +deserted the baby. She also informed the girl +in a most emphatic manner that she could not leave the +child there as she had enough of her own to look after. +</p> +<p> +“But this is a white baby,” persisted Nathalie, “see, +it is very fair!” showing the little puckered face, for +by this time it had begun to whimper quite loudly. +</p> +<p> +“Poor waif!” exclaimed the farmer’s wife, “it is +hungry!” Hastily getting a cup of milk she put it to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_407'></a>407</span> +the mouth of the little one, whose fingers closed on it +tightly as it drank greedily. +</p> +<p> +But feeding the baby did not soften Mrs. Hansen’s +heart, and Nathalie was forced to see that there was +nothing else to do but to carry the deserted one to camp +with her. But how could she trundle a wheel, carry a +five-quart can of milk, and the baby all at the same +time? Poor Nathalie! she was in deep waters! +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Hansen, however, who was not unkindly, seeing +the girl’s dilemma called her boy Joe, and giving +him the milk and wheel told him to hurry with it to +the camp, so that Nathalie would have her arms free +to carry her charge. +</p> +<p> +Some time after the dinner hour Nathalie, tired, hot, +hungry, and every muscle aching from weariness, arrived +at the camp. She was immediately surrounded +by the girls, who besieged her with questions as to the +why and wherefore of her tardy appearance. But +when their eyes lighted on the blue-eyed cherub, who +had been blissfully sleeping the greater part of the +girl’s three-mile tramp on a sunny road, they went wild +with excitement. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Morrow presently arrived on the scene and +promptly driving Nathalie’s tormentors away, handed +the infant to Ellen and Nita. Then she made the girl +lie down in the hammock to cool off, while Helen and +Grace rushed off to get her dinner. +</p> +<p> +As the girl, between bites, told of her strange adventure, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_408'></a>408</span> +she saw that it was not to prove as disastrous +as she feared, for the little stranger had already captivated +every member of the camp, even down to Peter, +also Rosy, Mrs. Van Vorst’s black cook. Indeed, it +was petted, hugged, and kissed so many times that +Mrs. Morrow, fearing it would be brought to evil by +so many caressing hands, then and there made rules +as to how each girl should care for it. +</p> +<p> +They all declared that Nathalie’s finding that baby +was providential, for one of the Pioneers that very +morning had expressed the wish that they could find a +baby in one of the farm-houses. They wanted to practice +bathing and dressing it, as these were some of the +qualifications necessary for a first-class Pioneer. +</p> +<p> +Although notices were posted in the post-offices of +the towns, and also sent to several newspapers, advertising +the fact that a baby had been found and was at +Camp Laff-a-Lot, no one claimed it. The girls were +delighted as they were enamored of their new toy, each +one secretly hoping it could remain with them. +</p> +<p> +The girls had even begun to discuss the project of +calling it the Girl Pioneer baby, and were deep in plans +to raise money so they could have it taken care of and +educated as such, when Mrs. Van Vorst avowed that +if no mother appeared to claim it she would adopt it +as her own. +</p> +<p> +This of course took away the girls’ hopes of having +the little one for their own, as who could deny Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_409'></a>409</span> +Van Vorst and Nita what they so eagerly desired and +what they were so able to do? In the meantime, Miss +Camphelia—for so she had been christened—cooed, +gurgled, and dimpled with delight at each new mother +who bathed and dressed her in silent adoration of the +tyrant of the camp. +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +Nathalie stirred restlessly, jumbled up her pillow, +and then flopped over with a sigh. O dear, why +couldn’t she go to sleep? It was not near time to +get up! +</p> +<p> +“Nathalie Page, what ails you?” came in exasperated +tone from the other bed. “You have been wiggling, +bouncing, jumping, and sighing like a porpoise +for half the night. For pity’s sake do go to sleep!” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie made no reply, assured that if she did she +would betray what a baby she was. +</p> +<p> +“What does ail you anyway?” persisted Helen in a +softer tone. “Have you been doing the green-apple +act like Carol, and—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it’s just Nita,” replied the girl dolefully. +“You see it is this way, Helen. I told Mrs. Van +Vorst that if Nita could mingle with girls about her +own age it would do her a world of good.” Nathalie +sat up in bed and began to hug her knees. “So, you +see, I feel responsible in a measure to see that she gets +a good time, but dear me, she is just having a horrible +time!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_410'></a>410</span> +</p> +<p> +“How do you know?” questioned Helen, “she—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, the poor little thing mopes and cries all the +time. She won’t admit it, but she doesn’t want me +out of her sight. Really, Helen, I know it is selfish +when she is so afflicted—” Nathalie’s voice quavered, +“but I do want a bit of fun myself sometimes.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I should say!” was Helen’s ejaculation. +“But I wouldn’t worry over it. She’s selfish, that’s +all, and shouldn’t be encouraged. I have noticed that +she is terribly offish with the girls, and they are half +afraid to be pleasant with her.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, she does not mean to be offish, as you say,” +answered Nathalie quickly, “she is shy, and sensitive. +I think she imagines the girls do not care for her because +she is a humpback. If there was only some way +by which she could become better acquainted with the +girls, and give them a chance to know her better! +She’s an awfully bright little thing, and I know she +would be a prime favorite, for there’s lots of fun in +her. She’s just pining—well—for love.” +</p> +<p> +“Humph!” came from Helen, “she gets enough of +it from her mother and Ellen; they spoil her.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I know, but that is what she doesn’t want—mother-coddling. +What she wants is to come out here +and kick around as one of us in a rough and tumble +way. Then she would get over her sensitiveness, but +somehow I can’t seem to manage it.” +</p> +<p> +There was silence for a moment as both girls fell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_411'></a>411</span> +to thinking. All at once Helen bounced up in bed +crying, “There, Nathalie, I have nailed it!” +</p> +<p> +“Nailed it?” repeated her companion. “Why—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you know what I mean, I mean about Nita. +Now listen to Solon the Wise. You get Nita to come +and sleep in this tent—” +</p> +<p> +“Where, on the floor?” inquired Nathalie teasingly. +</p> +<p> +“You know what I mean—on my cot. I’ll take +her room. Then you drill her to take her part with +the other girls, and so on, just as if she were one of us. +In three days I’ll come back and take my turn with +her, and you take my place. Then in three days again +let Lillie take a turn, and so on until the turns have +gone the rounds, each girl being her tent-mate for +three days. In that way she will become acquainted +and have a chance to get in with us.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Helen, you are the brightest—but suppose she +won’t come?” +</p> +<p> +“Won’t be your tent-mate? Why, she worships the +ground you walk on! That’s one thing that ails her, +Nathalie, she’s jealous of the girls, because in a way +she is outside of it all. Get her into harness like the +rest of us and in ten days’ time she’ll be like another +girl, or you can shut me up for a lunatic.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, as soon as possible after the morning conference, +had a little talk with her Director, and finding +that she agreed with Helen, sought Mrs. Van Vorst +and laid before her the new plan. Of course she found +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_412'></a>412</span> +that she had a number of objections to fight from that +lady, but eventually she won, and it was decided that +for the rest of the time in camp Nita Van Vorst was +to be lost to her mother’s bungalow, for to her unbounded +joy she was to be one of the girls! +</p> +<p> +It was bathing hour, and Nathalie, with bugle in +hand, was patroling the beach, keeping her brain and +eyes keenly alert, for some of the girls were careless, +and would swim out beyond the raft. +</p> +<p> +Carol was giving her considerable trouble, for having +just mastered the art of swimming she had become +very daring, doing her best to “show off” before +the girls. Her companions had promised to keep +an eye on her, but Nathalie knew that when they were +sporting about in the water they were apt to forget +their duty. +</p> +<p> +Her eyes swept from one group to the other. Ah, +the Sport was swimming out to the raft! How well +she looked in that red cap, and what a beautiful swimmer +she was, so free and graceful in her movements! +Hearing a sudden cry, as she thought, Nathalie turned +and glanced at Carol. Good! she had stopped her +antics of pretending she was sinking. Her eyes again +wandered to Edith, why where was she? There was +her red cap bobbing on the water, what new trick was +she up to now? She had thrown up her arms. Oh, +was she screaming? Pshaw, she was just fooling as +usual, what a plague she was! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_413'></a>413</span> +</p> +<p> +Nathalie strained her eyes, why, yes, she <em>was</em> +screaming! she had gone down again! Just a moment, +and then as Nathalie saw the red cap bob up +again and heard another piercing shriek, she realized +that Edith was drowning! Nathalie’s brain spun like +a wheel—what should she do—she glanced helplessly +around. Where was Helen? +</p> +<p> +“Edith is drowning!” she tried to shriek, but her +voice sounded faint, as if far away. O God! and +then she remembered. Up went her bugle and two +loud blasts—the danger signal that some one was +drowning—rang sharply over the water. +</p> +<p> +Just a moment, and then with a sudden swirl +through the air, Nathalie had leaped into the water, +and with long, swift strokes swam towards the spot +where she had seen the red cap go down! Ah, she +was almost there! As Edith threw up her arms again +with another frenzied scream, for help, Nathalie +grabbed her under the shoulders. But Edith, with a +hysterical cry, threw her arms around her neck. Oh, +she was dragging her down! +</p> +<p> +Nathalie regained control of herself, and was frantically +beating back the clutching arms. She had +swung her around; she tried to get a firmer grip, but +a nameless fear was pinching her heart. She felt her +strength was giving out! Then she heard Helen’s +voice crying, “Don’t lose your hold, Nathalie, we’re +almost there!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_414'></a>414</span> +</p> +<p> +Edith was so heavy; Nathalie tried to tighten her +grip; she was more quiet now. Oh, could it be? She +heard the purling of water and saw, but dimly, something +dark moving towards her. Oh, if they would +only hurry? Some one had caught hold of Edith and +was dragging— +</p> +<p> +When Nathalie regained her consciousness it was +to hear Mrs. Morrow’s voice crying, “Poor little Blue +Robin!” She opened her eyes to see the doctor bending +over her while Mrs. Morrow peeped over his +shoulder with a cheery smile. “Edith?” she gasped, +making an attempt to rise. +</p> +<p> +“As snug as a bug in a rug,” rejoined the doctor +promptly, “and you will be, too, if you will drink +this.” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie meekly obeyed. She was so tired, would +she ever get rested? But she did, and a few hours +later was half sitting up on her cot supported by pillows, +surrounded by a group of sober-faced girls all +eagerly listening as she told how it came about. “If +she hadn’t gripped me so hard,” she ended as she sank +back on the pillows, beginning to feel tired again, “I +could have managed.” Then suddenly a queer little +smile curved her mouth and drawing Helen down to +her she whispered softly, “Helen, do you remember +the day Edith ducked us when we were off in the boat, +and how I declared I would get even?” Her friend +nodded gravely. “Well,” said Nathalie, still with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_415'></a>415</span> +that queer little smile, “I have got one on her, +haven’t I?” +</p> +<p> +A cheer fire was in progress, and a noisy one at that. +The Pioneers had spent the afternoon and evening of +the previous day over at the camp across the Lake at +an entertainment called Scout Day, given in their +honor by their friends. +</p> +<p> +Certainly it had been a most wonderful Scout Day, +for there had been scouts saluting the colors, giving +calls, making signals, lighting fires, and building +shacks, tepees, and miniature log huts. Scouts, too, +had engaged in all kinds of drills, contests, and races, +such as tilting jousts, hand-wrestling, spear fighting +and sham battles. And the games! They were a +revelation to the girls in the uniqueness and cleverness +of the ideas displayed. They had found, too, that +scouts knew how to cook the very things dear to a +camper’s heart, and sing—well, about every war and +camp song known. +</p> +<p> +The Camp Circus presented the ludicrous side of +these knights of chivalry, as they did clown stunts, +causing the girls to laugh immoderately. After supper +had come a firefly dance, which made strong appeal +to the weird and mystic in every girl’s nature, as +they watched the scouts swing about the blazing light +in strange and grotesque evolution. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps the best was the scouts on the water, when, +with a flotilla of row-boats and canoes decorated with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_416'></a>416</span> +the figures of paper animals, and brilliantly aglow +with Japanese lights they glided over the water, the +motion of the boats making the lights look like fireflies +dancing in the air. +</p> +<p> +The jolly times given by the scouts must be returned! +When, how, and where, were the three questions causing +no little agitation, when Carol, with a white, frightened +face, leaped into their midst crying, “Oh, girls, +the baby has a fit!” +</p> +<p> +On hearing this startling statement some of the girls +began to cry, others jumped up and wrung their hands +frantically, while a few made a wild dash for Mrs. +Van Vorst’s bungalow. Helen fortunately kept cool, +and, perceiving that a panic would ensue, seized her +bugle and blew it quickly. +</p> +<p> +This halted the stampede, arrested the hysterical +ones midway between a sob and a cry, and caused a +sudden quiet to fall, as she cried, in a loud clear voice, +“Girls, keep perfectly still. Nathalie Page, Edith +Whiton, and Lillie Bell, I appoint a committee of three +to go and see if Carol’s report is so, and whether our +services are needed. And please, Pioneers,” she called +out as the three girls sprang on their feet, “one of you +girls come back and let us know how things are progressing, +as we shall all be anxious to know.” +</p> +<p> +The next moment the three girls were running +swiftly after Carol, who, immediately after delivering +her news, had started to run back to the bungalow. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_417'></a>417</span> +</p> +<p> +“Now, girls,” continued Helen, “let us go on talking. +Of course we are all worried, for we just love +that baby!” she paused for a second, “but we can’t +all help. Mrs. Morrow will let us know if we can do +anything, so in the meantime, let us go on thinking up +ideas.” +</p> +<p> +A cheer greeted this speech as a tribute to their +leader’s level head and courage, for this was not the +first time that she had preserved her poise, and held +the scales when unduly weighted on the wrong side. +</p> +<p> +Yes, it was true, little Camphelia was writhing in +convulsions on Mrs. Morrow’s lap, while Mrs. Van +Vorst bent over her with agitated movements, applying +with Ellen’s help hot water, and mustard, and such +remedies as were available at the moment. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie touched Mrs. Van Vorst softly on the arm, +“Is there anything we girls can do?” Her eyes were +big with anxious fear. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know,” replied that lady distractedly; +“if the doctor were only here!” +</p> +<p> +“Blue Robin, is that you?” asked Mrs. Morrow +quickly, as she heard Nathalie’s voice. “Oh, we must +have help! How unfortunate the doctor had to go +to the city to-day! But, Nathalie, can’t you send a +wireless to Dr. Homer? Tell him to come immediately, +for the baby is very ill!” +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie was already out of the sound of her +voice, as with quick, light steps she ran to the girls +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_418'></a>418</span> +who, with white distressed faces, awaited her on the +veranda. “Mrs. Morrow says to send a wireless to +Dr. Homer over at camp,” she explained hurriedly, +“but I am afraid we won’t get him, as the wireless +hours are nine, twelve and eight, and it is not eight +yet.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes it is,” returned Lillie, “five minutes to +eight,” looking up from her little wrist-watch in its +leather bandlet. “I’m sure we shall catch him.” +</p> +<p> +The girls hurried to the boat-house and climbed up +to the little cupola, where Dr. Morrow, on first coming +to camp, had installed his wireless apparatus. The +Pioneers had been somewhat mystified by this procedure, +wondering of what use a wireless would be +to him up there in those woods. But the doctor had +soon demonstrated that it was not only one of the most +useful things about camp, but one of the most entertaining. +</p> +<p> +He had not only been able to discuss with his fellow +physician across the lake many professional questions +that he came across in his medical books now and +then, or letters from his colleague in Westport, who +had charge of some of his important cases, but at +times had been able to give valuable advice to the +younger physician when dealing with some refractory +or eccentric scout. +</p> +<p> +But the doctor had done more than this, for he had +gathered the four older girls, Helen, Edith, Lillie, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_419'></a>419</span> +Nathalie together, and given them lessons in wireless +telegraphy, so that they were soon glibly talking about +ether waves, spark-coils, condensers, tuners, keys, +and so on, in a way that proved his lessons had been +well learned. They had, in fact, not only learned the +Morse code, so that they could “listen in” when the +doctor was “picking up” an S. O. S. call from some +ship in distress, but they had heard many a wireless +message from some signal station, or from some out-going +or in-coming sea craft. +</p> +<p> +At first it had seemed quite odd that although their +little amateur apparatus could send messages only +within a radius of five miles, it was able to receive +them from a distance of over a thousand. They became +so proficient in this click-clack language that they +were soon sending aerograms, or wireless messages, +to the camp across the Lake for the doctor. Sometimes, +too, they sent messages to their scout friends, a +privilege only accorded after the messages had been +read by their Director, so as to avoid senseless talk or +idle gossip. +</p> +<p> +As soon as the girls reached the little wooden table +holding the wireless, Lillie and Edith instinctively drew +back, feeling that as Nathalie was the one who had +found the baby she had the prior right to send this +call for help. Seating herself, Nathalie quickly adjusted +the telephones over her ears and set to work. +But to her surprise, as she pressed the wireless key +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_420'></a>420</span> +on the detector to close the circuit, she heard no sharp +crack, and saw no spark-gap. Again she tried with +like result. “Why, what is the matter with it?” she +questioned turning towards the girls in some trepidation. +</p> +<p> +“Let me try,” pleaded Lillie. But alas, she met +with no better luck than Nathalie, although she tried +one experiment after the other. “I think it is the +strangest thing,” she commented staring helplessly before +her; “what can be the matter with the thing +anyway?” +</p> +<p> +But Edith, who had dropped down on her hands +and knees to examine the battery under the wooden +board, now rose to her feet crying, “There is nothing +the matter with the condenser, it must be that the +aerial wires are not right!” +</p> +<p> +As the girl made this announcement there was an +ominous silence as they stared with distressed, worried +faces at one another. “Oh, what can we do?” lamented +Nathalie, “could we—” +</p> +<p> +“I know what we can do,” said Lillie suddenly; +“we can row across the Lake to the camp!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_421'></a>421</span><a name='chXXIV' id='chXXIV'></a>CHAPTER XXIV—THE WIRELESS OPERATOR</h2> +<p> +“Yes, that is the only thing we can do,” said +Nathalie quickly, “but suppose the doctor +is not there! You know the boys said they +were going on a two or three days’ tramp this week.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’ll tell you how we can settle that problem +and make sure,” replied Lillie, whose mind acted +quickly. “Suppose we row over while Edith goes +on her wheel to Mrs. Hansen’s and telephones to +Boonton.” +</p> +<p> +“What, go all that distance alone in the dark?” +protested the Sport in an appalled tone, “and then I +don’t know what doctor to telephone to!” +</p> +<p> +“What, Edith, do you want us to think that you are +really afraid?” laughed Lillie; “<em>you</em>, the girl who +has never shown the white feather at any dare? +Why, I—” +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie’s cheery voice, like oil on troubled +waters, interposed quickly, “Of course she is not +afraid, but it is an unpleasant thing to do to ride that +distance alone at night. But we can’t take chances, +and we must have a doctor. And as to the one you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_422'></a>422</span> +telephone to, Edith,” she cried, turning to that young +lady, whose face had brightened somewhat, “call Dr. +McGill, he’s the little white-haired doctor who called +on Dr. Morrow the other day. He lives at Boonton.” +</p> +<p> +Without another protest Edith turned, and after +running back to the cheer fire circle to inform Helen +what the girls were going to do, she hurried after her +wheel. A few minutes later, with the lantern fastened +to the front of it, flickering like a firefly as she sped +through the woods, she was on her way to the farm to +telephone. +</p> +<p> +Lillie and Nathalie had hurried down to the boathouse, +and in a flash of time had unfastened one of +the row boats. Springing quickly in, they were soon +out some distance from shore, rowing as rapidly as +they could towards the opposite bank. It was a weird +night, the sky seemed hung with heavy black curtains, +the only light being that from the moon, as at rare intervals +she darted swiftly through some opening between +the clouds, or betrayed her presence by streaks +of foamy silver on the edge of some unusually inky +cloud. +</p> +<p> +But the path across the Lake was a familiar one, and +ten minutes later the girls reached the opposite shores. +“Why, it looks as if there wasn’t a soul about,” exclaimed +Lillie, as, after drawing in their oars, the two +girls stood up in the boat and peered anxiously through +the bit of woodland that led to the camp, whose signal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_423'></a>423</span> +lantern glimmered dimly through the foliage of +the trees. +</p> +<p> +“I guess you’re right, Nathalie, the boys must be +on a tramp,” said Lillie after several loud “Hellos!” +the only reply to which had been a faint echo from +across the Lake. +</p> +<p> +Putting her fingers to her mouth Lillie emitted several +sharp whistles, but still no sign of life! “Huh, it +looks as if it was a case of Goldsmith’s ‘Deserted Village,’” +she soliloquized dismally, but Nathalie was +busy giving the Pioneer yell. This evoked such a +strange medley of echoing sounds that the girls burst +out laughing. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie’s face soon sobered, however, as she exclaimed +dolefully, “O dear, it does seem as if we were +destined to have bad luck. I wonder if they could +have gone to bed!” burst from her in sudden thought. +</p> +<p> +“If they have, we’ll soon rout them out,” declared +Lillie, jumping on the bank. “Come on, let’s drag +the boat up and then hike to camp.” +</p> +<p> +After slipping on pine needles, stumbling over +gnarled roots and blackened stumps, they finally found +the path, devoutly thankful that the moon had at last +emerged from behind the clouds. Indeed, as they +stepped from the shadows of the woods and stood on +the campus—as the scouts called the level space in +front of the tents—the moon was shining with a +brightness that equalled the day. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_424'></a>424</span> +</p> +<p> +As the girls’ eyes traveled from the pots on the top +pole suspended over what had once been a camp fire +to the rows of tents, whose open flaps revealed that +they were tenantless, Lillie uttered a sudden cry of +delighted surprise! +</p> +<p> +The next moment she had shot across the campus, +for she had spied a white paper fastened to one of the +larger tents, directly under the glare of the lantern +above the door. +</p> +<p> +“Hurrah! we’re in luck,” she cried, wildly jubilant, +pointing to the white paper as Nathalie reached +her side. “Read that!” The girl stepped closer and +slowly deciphered from the big black letters in charcoal +print: +</p> +<table class='c' summary='centered block'><tr><td> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>“Have gone to the Scout Council at the rooms of</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>the Wolf Patrol at Boonton.</p> +<p style='margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; text-align:right'>“<span class='sc'>G. A. Homer, Scoutmaster.</span>”</p> +</td></tr></table> +<p> +“But that does not help us any!” Nathalie said +when she finished reading the notice, her face losing +its eagerness as she faced her companion. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed it does, goosie,” replied Lillie stoutly, +“for the doctor has a wireless. So have the scouts +at Boonton, for I heard one of the boys tell of a +message one of them had picked up the other night, the +night we had that awful thunder storm, don’t you +remember? So don’t say we’re not lucky, Nathalie +Page, after finding that note. I’ll warrant you, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_425'></a>425</span> +though, that some of the scouts did go on a tramp, +and that the doctor left that word in case they returned +before he did. But let’s look for that wireless!” +</p> +<p> +Surmising that the tent with the note pinned on the +flap must be Dr. Homer’s, the girls hastened in, and +by the light from the lantern which Nathalie had taken +from the pole by standing on a couple of soap-boxes +she had found, it was soon discovered on a roughly-hewn +table in a corner of the tent. +</p> +<p> +This time the wireless key did its work; there was +a sharp crack, the amateur wireless operator had +clicked off the R. Z., the camp’s private call, and then +with palpitating heart and expectant eyes sat waiting +to see if it had been picked up. Suddenly her face +broke into a smile, for as she “listened in,” she caught +the wireless O. K. G. (go ahead). She went ahead, +and in a few moments had made the operator at the +Patrol rooms understand that Dr. Homer was wanted. +There was a moment’s delay, and then the doctor himself +was sending a message through the air. It took +but a short space of time for Nathalie to click off why +he was wanted, and how the girls had come to wire +him from the scout camp. +</p> +<p> +“Now let’s make tracks for home,” said Lillie as +Nathalie hung up the lantern on the pole again. “I +am afraid it may rain, for I thought I heard thunder.” +But she must have been mistaken, for not a cloud disturbed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_426'></a>426</span> +the soft silver haze that guided them across the +Lake to Camp Laff-a-Lot. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me,” ejaculated Nathalie an hour later as +she and Helen were undressing for bed, “what a lot +of things have happened in the two weeks we have +been at camp! But how glad I am that Dr. Homer got +here in time, and that the baby is all right.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, it ought to be, with two doctors on the job,” +retorted Helen with her usual bluntness. “Isn’t that +old Dr. McGill jolly?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, it was comical to see him look the baby +over, and then declare that there was nothing for him +to do but to look wise, as Dr. Homer had done all there +was to be done. What a chummy confab they had +too, after it was all over! He was so pleased to meet +Dr. Homer, he said, for he had heard Dr. Morrow +speak of him.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, one thing’s settled, Miss Blue Robin,” remarked +Helen decidedly, “and that is that Miss Camphelia +is not to have any more sweets. I half suspect +that Carol tried to stuff her with a bite of green apple, +for she looked frightened to death when she saw that +she was ill. Dr. Homer said there had been too much +mothering going on. I just knew it would come to +this, the way—” +</p> +<p> +“Stop your scolding, Lady Fuss,” laughed Nathalie, +“for it seems to me that I saw you trying to stuff the +kiddie with a lollipop the other day. But, anyway, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_427'></a>427</span> +rules have been posted, ‘No one to feed, or to handle +Miss Camphelia without permission of the head nurse, +Miss Ellen Carmichael!’ I’m dead for sleep, so +good night!” +</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p> +The camp presented an appearance of unusual activity, +with flags and bunting rippling in the sunlit air, +and girls, scouts, and village guests in a state of restless +progression, for it was the Pioneer Sport Day. +The girls were in a whirl as they flew hither and +thither, seeing that everything was in readiness for +the anticipated fun, the visitors curiously prying into +the living arrangements of this girls’ camp, while the +scouts impatiently tramped about, waiting for the +sports to begin. +</p> +<p> +Ah, there was the bugle call, the signal for a rush +down to the shores of the Lake to witness the aquatic +feats of the young campers! “A ghostly dive,” read +Fred Tyson slowly from an imposing little program, +hand-printed in red, and tied to a birch-bark cover +with sweet-grass. “I’d like to know—” but his query +was cut short as the bugle again sounded to announce +that the first race was to start. +</p> +<p> +Fred turned his eyes towards the pier and stared +curiously at the little figure in a khaki suit with red +tie and hat, standing so proudly erect on a small platform +as the Pioneer announcer for the day. Could +it be? Yes it was Miss Anita Van Vorst, with her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_428'></a>428</span> +knapsack so adroitly arranged that no one would have +suspected she was the little humpback who had once +only taken an outing when wheeled in a chair. +</p> +<p> +A sudden scurry from the boat-house of two ghostly +figures, a quick rush up the plank leading to the barrel +platform,—Peter’s diving-tower,—the spectral habiliments +suddenly flung away to float with the tide, and +two blue-suited forms had sped swiftly downward. +</p> +<p> +There was a splash, a shower of silvery spray, a +few bubbles, and two heads were bobbing about like +floating corks. The next minute Kitty and Edith +were swimming swiftly back to the pier, Edith in the +lead, and Kitty a close second amid the noisy hurrahs +from their friends on the bank. Edith, of course, +won the blue, and with a wave of her hand as an acknowledgment +to the cheering audience darted quickly +back to the boat-house. +</p> +<p> +A tennis match now followed, which proved to be +Lillie and Jessie arrayed in tennis-suits seated in +wooden tubs with tennis-rackets for paddles, paddling +to the goal, an anchored raft some yards from shore. +Lillie was the winner this time, and, amid a general +laugh received her prize, a dime and pin, with radiant +smiles from the bugler on the pier. +</p> +<p> +A pioneer race was engaged in by two Orioles, one +in the costume of a colonial maiden of Plymouth town, +while the other closely resembled pictures of that laggard +in love, John Alden. The contestants swam to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_429'></a>429</span> +the raft where they attempted in double-quick time to +divest themselves of their old-time clothes, the one, +of course, who accomplished this feat first having the +best chance to win the race. +</p> +<p> +But shoes would stick, strings would knot, and buttons +wouldn’t unfasten. Nannie Plummer at last was +free, and jumped back to the water. But alas, her +bonnet still clung to her; no, not to her head, but to +one of her feet, causing her audience to shout with +merriment at her antics to rid herself of this obstacle, +while Johnnie the slow was still making futile endeavors +to rid herself of her undesirable trousers. +</p> +<p> +A Japanese race was applauded perhaps as much +for its picturesqueness as for the skill displayed, as +two daintily gowned figures,—one in a pink and one +in a blue flowered kimono, with flowers and fans coquettishly +arranged à la Japanese in their hair—with +mincing steps hied themselves down to their boats. +Here, each one holding an umbrella in one hand and +a palm-leaf fan in the other, they paddled out to the +stake boat. +</p> +<p> +“Gee whiz! I’d like to know how they make those +fans work!” exclaimed Teddie Hart in puzzled tone, +to the joy of a group of girls near by, who giggled +unrestrainedly as they saw that they had succeeded +in mystifying their scout friends. Perhaps Peter, if +he had minded, could have explained that a flat board +to which the fans were nailed did the work. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_430'></a>430</span> +</p> +<p> +A Silver Race was composed of teams of two, rowing +out to the raft and back, each girl holding a silver +spoon in her mouth containing an egg. The winners +were Nathalie and Edith, who reached shore with +their eggs intact, while Lillie Bell and a Bob White +raced back to land with streams of yellow dripping +from their faces and clothes, the race rules requiring +that each racer should return to the shore with what +remained of the egg. +</p> +<p> +The Trail of the Lonesome Pine created yells of +laughter, as Helen stepped gingerly along with bare +feet on a peeled pine sapling suspended over the shallow +water near the shore. It was greased, of course, but +the red apple at its end proved an incentive as the +girl slipped cautiously towards it. Hurrah, she was +almost there! Hadn’t she practiced that feat for days? +There was a sudden swerve to one side, the supple +figure tottered, and then Miss Helen plunged to her +fate in the water below. But she only laughed with +the spectators as she wrung out her skirts and scurried +for the bank, while Barbara began her greasy career. +</p> +<p> +Surely she had rosin on her feet! No, she didn’t, +for the next moment she too was clawing the air. +She swayed for a minute like a reed in the wind, and +then went down, not into the water, but on the pole +where she gazed with a bewildered stare in her near-sighted +eyes at the jeering little prize that had proved +so elusive. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_431'></a>431</span> +</p> +<p> +The first number of the land sports was a contest +in the air, the performers walking on stilts while balancing +potatoes on their heads. A tilting joust also +took place, and helped to prove that the time the girls +had spent in making and walking on the stilts had not +been wasted. +</p> +<p> +The Up Against It Race, turned out to be an obstacle +race, one of the obstacles being twelve eggs to +be picked up from the ground and placed in a basket. +The second obstacle was hailed with deafening shouts, +for it was no other than Miss Camphelia sitting on the +race-track contentedly sucking a lollipop. She was +speedily seized by the contestant and arrayed in a +coat and hat, while gazing with wondering eyes at this +new red-faced mother. The girl who made the best +time as an egg-picker and baby-dresser proved to be an +Oriole, and was duly applauded for her speed and deftness. +</p> +<p> +In the Light that Failed contest the fair racers made +a twenty-yard dash carrying lighted candles and pails +of water, one in each hand, at the same time. All lights +flickered out to be sure, but the one that lasted the +longest won the contest for its holder. +</p> +<p> +A fifty-yard dash won by Edith now followed, while +one of the Bob Whites broke the tape at a twenty-five +yard dash. In a Ring the Bell competition the girls +were divided into teams, the team having the greatest +number of girls who threw a bean bag through a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_432'></a>432</span> +barrel-hoop with a bell hung in its center without touching +the bell were the jubilant ones. +</p> +<p> +Lillie and Edith now gave an exhibition of wigwagging, +using the Myers code, in which nearly all +the girls were proficient. Lillie, to her delight, +showed the most proficiency, although Edith had generally +been considered the greatest expert in this +science. An Indian-club drill, and a nail-driving contest +not only showed the scouts what their sisters could +accomplish in the way of strength, and manual labor, +but brought the sports for the day to a close. +</p> +<p> +By this time pangs of hunger began to assail the +jolly campers, and Nita, with a strenuous toot of her +horn, made known that a Grub Contest—a hike for +supper packages hidden in the woods, among the rocks +on the shore, or around the tents—would now take +place. With much laughter and jesting the girls lined +up opposite the boys, and at three blasts of the bugle +they were off, flying in all directions, each one bent +on searching some one particular locality that he or +she had in mind. The fortunate ones were soon +shouting hilariously; in fact even the slow ones were +keener than usual in this supper hike, and soon bagged +their game and cheered lustily as they returned to +camp. +</p> +<p> +Every one now gathered around the dining-room +table—appropriately decorated for the occasion—and +was soon dulling appetite with the choice bits +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_433'></a>433</span> +found in the packages that had been done up by the +Pioneers but hidden by Mrs. Morrow and Mrs. Van +Vorst. +</p> +<p> +As they frolicked over the supper it was voted that +every one present contribute to the moment’s pleasure +by telling a story, singing a song, asking a conundrum, +and so on. A ball was passed to Helen who immediately +told a funny story, and ended by tossing +the ball to Nathalie, the rule being that the reciter +was to throw the ball to any one he or she chose, +which resulted in its being thrown to the more timid +or lazy ones, thus causing surprise and laughter. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie made a rhyme impromptu, then tossed the +ball to one of the boys, and so it kept going the +rounds, not only bracing the timid or nervous ones, but +revealing latent talent that had never been suspected. +</p> +<p> +Teddy Hart, who had played the knight to the announcer +of the day, Miss Anita, spied her laughing at +his antics when he was called to the front and mischievously +tossed the ball to her. The smile died on +the girl’s face and she gasped with a start of terror, +but in a moment, with a defiant toss of her head, she +started in and recited some funny verses so comically +that she received an ovation of cheers and claps. +</p> +<p> +When Nathalie perceived this unexpected turn in +the festivity, her heart went pit-a-pat in sympathy with +Nita’s unexpected ordeal, but when she saw the upward +toss of her head and the flash in her eyes, she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_434'></a>434</span> +knew the girl would prove game. Indeed, she had +been proving game for the last ten days or more, for +Helen’s plan of helping her to know the girls had +succeeded so well that Nita had lost much of her +supersensitiveness in regard to her deformity, by being +made to forget it and by the kindliness and deference +shown her by both girls and boys. +</p> +<p> +The intimacy that had come from tenting with the +different Pioneers had not only shown her the need +of correcting many of her own faults, but had revealed +the good points of her associates. Many of +the girls she had secretly vowed to Nathalie she would +never care for, she had accepted as the best of friends. +</p> +<p> +From being deemed an aristocrat of whom the girls +stood slightly in awe, thinking her proud and exclusive, +she had proved to be most democratic, entirely +devoid of the many airs and graces they feared. In +fact she had become, as Nathalie said, a favorite with +every one, and had nearly as many adorers as Miss +Camphelia, who at that moment was having a most +beautiful time eating bread and milk in the lap of +Ellen, gurgling and winking with baby joy at the gay +colors and lights that held her eye. +</p> +<p> +Supper over, the campers hurried to the cheer fire +circle where a tall, uncouth-looking object covered with +sheets towered specter-like in the center. Helen, +mounting a small platform, announced that the campers +had gathered to celebrate the burning of Miss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_435'></a>435</span> +Dummy, who represented the evil spirits that had run +riot during their stay at camp. +</p> +<p> +An Oriole girl now came to the fore as chairman +of the spirit committee, as it was called, and made +known that a thorough investigation had brought to +light many evil spirits that had dominated certain +members of the camp at intervals, not only hindering +the development of character, but causing discomfort +and a few heartaches among their mates. +</p> +<p> +The evil spirits of grouchiness, shiftlessness, dishonesty, +and selfishness, in a sense, had been tamed +by the Pioneers’ laws and the flames from their cheer +fire so that they had not caused much havoc, but there +were a few evil ones not so familiar, perhaps, that +had persisted in doing their evil work. The principal +ones, she claimed, were forgetting each one’s own particular +failing in the fun of ridiculing the faults and +eccentricities of her mates, the disloyalty to one’s self +by not trying to do one’s best, a habit of giggling when +there was nothing to giggle at, a desire to shirk responsibility +by letting the other one do work that was +distasteful, and the weakness of letting one’s nerves +get the better of one on certain occasions instead of +getting the better of the nerves. +</p> +<p> +Of course this caused much laughter, although each +girl recognized her own particular fault, and then and +there secretly swore that she would subdue it or die in +the attempt. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_436'></a>436</span> +</p> +<p> +Helen now asked if there was any reason why the +evil spirits just mentioned should not be disposed of +for good and all. Receiving a shout that evidently +meant a big “No!” she pulled a string, the ghostlike +garments fell to the ground, and Miss Dummy stood +revealed, an effigy arrayed in an old suit belonging +to one of the Pioneers, even to the staff and knapsack, +surmounting a pile of dried twigs and brush. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Dummy,” solemnly continued Helen, with +as straight a face as she could muster as she confronted +the ludicrous-looking evil one, who, with hat awry, +huge red nose, and goggle-eyes, stared at her with a +leer, “I consign to thee those evil spirits that have +caused sorrow and heartaches among the members of +Camp Laff-a-Lot, to be burned until thou art ashes, +and then to be buried at the bottom of the lake to lie +there forever!” +</p> +<p> +As she ended there was a sudden scurry forward as +each Pioneer made one of a circle kneeling around +Miss Dummy, and in an instant’s time had struck +her match and applied it to one of the twigs which +served as a pedestal for the evil one. As the firewood +had been well oiled it caught quickly from the blue +sputterings of so many matches, and yellow flames +were soon shooting savagely upward to glow like +strings of scarlet among the twigs and briers, causing +them to snap and crackle hilariously. In a moment +darting tongues were licking Miss Dummy’s red +cheeks with fiery greed and floated upward to circle +about in wreaths of white and black smoke. +</p> +<div><a name='illus-436' id='illus-436'></a></div> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i010' id='i010'></a> +<img src="images/illus-436.jpg" alt="She dropped the ashes of Miss Dummy into the placid water." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>She dropped the ashes of Miss Dummy into the placid water.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_437'></a>437</span></div> +<p> +Some of the unduly imaginative girls turned away, +declaring that the effigy looked like some one of the +girls in that suit in the reddened glare of the flames. +But the rest joined hands with the scouts and leaped +merrily about the blazing pyre, executing weird and +strange gyrations, which they termed a fire dance, as +a last farewell to their enemy, who finally, done to the +death, tumbled to the ground a fiery mass of scarlet +embers. A pail of water soon quenched the last of +the spirits, when the ashes were gathered into a big +pail and carried in a procession to the shores of the +lake. +</p> +<p> +Here Helen, holding the pail carefully in her hand, +stepped into a row-boat and was conveyed to the +middle of the lake. By the light of the moon just +peeping above the horizon she dropped the ashes of +Miss Dummy into the placid water, and to the singing +of a comic dirge, composed by one of the Orioles, +was rowed silently back to shore. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_438'></a>438</span><a name='chXXV' id='chXXV'></a>CHAPTER XXV—GOOD-BY TO EAGLE LAKE</h2> +<p> +After Miss Dummy had been disposed of there +was a return to the cheer fire circle, where the +Sport performed the unusual feat of lighting +three fires with one match. The giving out of merit +badges and stars for the work performed during camp +life and for the day’s sports now took place. These rewards +of merit were each accompanied by camp gifts, +the work of the girls done afternoons at their “trial by +needle” hour, as some of the girls called it, when raffia +and bead work, candle making, sewing, and many other +crafts had occupied the Pioneers’ busy fingers, while +some expert read of heroic deeds, or the girls chatted +pleasantly of the pleasures that were, or that were to be. +</p> +<p> +Pioneer and Scout, each in turn, now told of some +special good that had come to them from the life +in the open, which Mrs. Morrow said would be food +for thought on their return to the city. A rhyming +contest made no end of merriment, as well as the +games of menagerie, gossip, animal, blind man’s buff, +and others of like character. The scout orchestra now +varied the entertainment with a few musical selections +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_439'></a>439</span> +which started the girls and boys dancing around the +fire again, this time with the graceful swing and motions +of the modern dances. +</p> +<p> +But they tired at last, and, some one starting a song, +they all fell in and sang to their heart’s content one +song after the other, rendering the old-remembered +one of “Juanita” with undue emphasis, in honor to +Miss Anita Van Vorst. +</p> +<p> +After Dr. Homer, with the assistance of a few +scouts, had made a deal of laughter by his comic +shadowgraphs, done by a flash-lamp placed in the rear +of one of the big tents with the flaps closed, the time +came to say good-by. A few protested that it was still +early, but when reminded by Mrs. Morrow that they +had already been allowed an hour longer than usual +and that they would have a lot of work to do in the +morning as they were to break camp to return to the +city, the protests ended, and the good-nights were said. +</p> +<p> +The last day was a busy one, any number of camp +rules were broken but the squads were lenient—they +were still sleepy—so no reports were made, and the +work of pulling down tents, packing the camp equipment, +and making everything as clean and orderly as +possible progressed. +</p> +<p> +In the midst of this confusion Carol, who had made +her last trip to the post-office, came rushing up to +Nathalie with a letter. “Oh, it’s from Dick!” cried +the delighted girl as she tore it open. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_440'></a>440</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Helen,” she exclaimed in a moment to that +young lady who was down on her knees packing the +big box, “it’s the funniest letter. Dick says he’s having +the time of his life—the jolliest ever—why, +where can he be?” stopping to glance at the envelope. +</p> +<p> +“Why, he must be in New York, or I wonder—yes,” +she nodded in answer to Helen’s inquiry, “he +says Mamma is fine—says they have had a glorious +three weeks—well, I like that,” she grumbled with +rueful face, “it looks as if they had not missed me a +bit and—” But the sound of voices at this moment +caused both of the girls to go to the tent door, to see +Miss Carol hurriedly heading a procession of men and +women towards the tent. She was screaming excitedly +as she came, “Oh, Nathalie, where are you?” +</p> +<p> +Nathalie, somewhat alarmed by all this appearance +of excitement, cried quickly, “Oh, what is it, Carol? +What is it?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nathalie,” the girl screamed, “the baby’s +mother has come!” +</p> +<p> +“The baby’s mother!” echoed the dazed girl with +wide eyes. “Why, what does she mean?” turning to +Helen, who at that moment had picked up Miss Camphelia, +who had just awakened from a nap on one of +the cots. +</p> +<p> +By this time the party of country folk, breathless +and somewhat moist from undue haste, with expectancy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_441'></a>441</span> +and delight beaming from every feature, had +arrived in front of the tent. Nathalie gave one glance +at the many faces, and then with a sudden cry rushed +to the defense of what she had come to consider as +her own, and the next minute was seated on the cot +holding on to Miss Camphelia with a gripping clutch. +She stared defiantly at the intruders as they pushed +and jostled one another in their haste to enter the +tent. +</p> +<p> +But a moment later her arms relaxed, as a faded-looking, +worried-faced little woman, with eyes as blue +as the sea, and hair like corn-silk, gave an inarticulate +cry as she caught sight of the baby on the girl’s lap. +Dropping on her knees with outstretched arms she +cried, “Oh, my baby! My precious baby!” +</p> +<p> +Well, after that Nathalie could hold out no longer, +especially when she saw that the baby’s sweet smile +and dimpling cheeks were counterparts of those of the +woman who claimed her as her own. +</p> +<p> +Then it was all explained. The child had been +stolen by the gypsy woman who, evidently, after a +day or so of tramping from house to house begging +for money to reach the Gypsy settlement some distance +from the neighboring town, had decided to abandon +it. Unfortunately the notice that had been sent to be +put up in the post-office had failed to reach its destination, +and if it had not been for Dr. McGill, the +physician who had been summoned by Edith when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_442'></a>442</span> +Camphelia was ill, the baby would never have been +found. +</p> +<p> +Dr. MCGill had been puzzled by the baby’s resemblance +to some one he knew, but supposing the little +one belonged to some of the ladies at camp he had +thought no more about it. Afterwards, however, on +accidentally learning from Dr. Homer that it was a +lost baby, he had sent the mother to reclaim it. +</p> +<p> +Of course there were pangs of disappointment to be +endured, but, as Nathalie said, no one could be anything +but glad to give the baby up after witnessing +the mother’s joy. After the mother had thanked them +all, from Mrs. Van Vorst down to Ellen, for their kindness +and the care they had given her baby, hoping that +each one of the girls would some day have one of her +own to caress and fondle, they all kissed Camphelia +good-by, and the camp baby departed to return to its +own home. +</p> +<p> +After a dirge had been composed by Jessie, who +had bloomed into quite a poetess, and any number of +farewell letters and wishes had been written for the +good luck of the next campers at the Lake, these were +buried in the ground under a cairn of stones with a +tiny American flag fastened at the top. This was the +girls’ memorial to the good times they had had, as well +as an expression of the sadness they felt on leaving +the place where they had spent three such happy weeks. +</p> +<p> +The sadness of parting with the friends they had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_443'></a>443</span> +made in Mrs. Van Vorst’s household—not the least +being our friend Jimmie—was somewhat lessened +when they learned that their hostess and her daughter +were to accompany them to New York to spend a day +or so with Mrs. Morrow. +</p> +<p> +Going down in the car, although surrounded by a +merry, chattering crowd, Nathalie and Helen became +unusually silent. Helen, perhaps, was thinking of the +new position she was to enter on her return to Westport, +and Nathalie,—well, she could not have told +why, but soon she became aware that her thoughts +had jumped backward and she was reviewing her first +meeting with Helen and the Pioneers. +</p> +<p> +She half smiled as each one in turn presented herself +to her as she first appeared; Barbara, with her +queer staring eyes, absent-minded manner, and her +frumpish clothes that always made Nathalie think of +a five-and-ten-cent store. How often she had been +tempted to laugh until she learned of the meanness of +Barbara’s grandfather, for although he was a rich +man Barbara had to scrimp and haggle to get enough +to eat, to say nothing of clothes to cover her back. +The tears came into her eyes when she realized the kind +heart that beat so loyally beneath the despised apparel. +After all, what were one’s clothes, mere externals necessary +of course, but in reality only of face value, for +surely they would never gain one an entrance into +Heaven. And Helen, what would her life have been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_444'></a>444</span> +in her new home without this neighbor friend—who +had taught her to master herself by helping her to +overcome the many problems that had confronted her +when she had become a Pioneer? +</p> +<p> +Then she smiled again as she thought of Lillie Bell, +with her thrillers and dramatic poses. She had learned +that they were but the frosting to the solid worth beneath. +Indeed, the thrillers in a way had proved an +incentive in the telling of her stories to Rosy, the +opening wedge into the good things that had followed, +meeting Nita, making the money for Dick, Mrs. Van +Vorst’s asking the Pioneers to Eagle Lake, and so on. +Why, when she came to think of it, there was not a +girl in her bird group who had not helped her in some +way, even Edith, who had taught her to guard her +tongue. +</p> +<p> +And from the Pioneer industries and crafts she had +learned to be useful. She thought of the first time +she had tried to darn a stocking at the Rally. Yes, +and they had helped her to be happy, for they had +given her a purpose in life. As for the sports and +activities, they had brought her in closer touch with +nature, giving her a keener interest in things that had +never appealed to her before. And the rules and laws, +even the good old-timey women had all done their share +in making definite those qualities which she now saw +were necessary in order to be a success in life. +</p> +<p> +She realized, but dimly, perhaps, that she had gotten +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_445'></a>445</span> +nearer the hearts of these people of the workaday +world, not only Helen, but Edith and Jessie, who were +all to be wage-earners that fall, thus opening up to +her a new avenue of hopes and desires. Wasn’t it +strange how she used to dread the thought of having +to earn her own living, and now she was worrying as +to how she could earn more money to add to what she +had earned already for Dick! Then a sudden thought +jarred, oh, suppose Mrs. Van Vorst, now that Nita +had become so different with her sunburned cheeks +and merry ways from what she had been before she +met the Pioneers, should not want her any more! Oh, +well, if that should be—ah, they were getting into +New York! She stooped and had begun to gather up +her belongings when some one spoke to her. +</p> +<p> +It was Mrs. Van Vorst, who, with her gracious +little smile—how changed she seemed from on that +morning when Nathalie had handed her the card in +front of the library—said, “Nathalie, Nita and I are +going to take a run up to St. Luke’s Hospital to visit +that sick friend—you know the one I told you about, +who just had an operation performed—and Nita +wants you to go with us.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but Mother will be waiting to see me!” exclaimed +the girl blankly. O dear, she didn’t want +to go, for she was in such a hurry to see her mother +and Dick. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that will be all right,” nodded her friend +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_446'></a>446</span> +quickly. “Mrs. Morrow will stop at the door, and +you can tell her you will be along in the next train, for +we shall not be long at the hospital.” +</p> +<p> +Twenty minutes later the three ladies, each with a +big bouquet which Nita had insisted upon their taking, +were entering a large, bare-looking reception room. +“Now, girls,” said Mrs. Van Vorst, “I will hurry +up in the elevator and see how the patient is, and then +perhaps you can both come and see him—her—” +Mrs. Van Vorst’s face grew strangely red—she turned +abruptly and hurried from the room. +</p> +<p> +It was but a few moments when she was back again, +and with a bright little nod cried, “Come, Nathalie, +my friend is fine this morning, and very anxious to see +visitors, so come along!” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder why the patient wants to see me,” soliloquized +the girl in puzzled query. “Isn’t Nita coming?” +she cried aloud, seeing the girl standing by the +window with an odd little smile on her face. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, later; only one at a time at present,” was +the quick reply. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie was still thinking how strange it seemed +and how smiling Mrs. Van Vorst appeared, when they +came to a halt in front of a door in an upper corridor. +“Here we are,” said her companion, “now run in and +see my friend!” She threw open the door as she +spoke. +</p> +<p> +Nathalie took a step forward, stared a minute with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_447'></a>447</span> +puzzled brows, and then with a loud cry flung herself +with outstretched arms upon a figure standing in the +center of the room, for it was Dick! +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how did you get here and—” but the rest was +lost, for Dick was hugging her and kissing her in a +way that more than astonished the girl, for he had +always declared he hated to kiss people. And then he +held her off and with shining eyes surveyed the suntanned +cheeks of Nathalie approvingly, as he cried, +“So you’re back, Blue Robin—and—great guns, as +fat as a porpoise, too!” +</p> +<p> +“But what are you doing here?” inquired the still +dazed girl slowly—“are you the lady?” +</p> +<p> +“Lady!” echoed Dick. “I, a lady? Not on your +life! What have you got into your head now?” he +quizzed teasingly. +</p> +<p> +“But Mrs. Van Vorst said I was to meet a lady—” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, she was just bluffing you, that’s all,” jeered +Dick. “She wanted to surprise you, for—” then +Nathalie gave a loud scream, for Dick had begun to +walk towards the bureau, slowly, to be sure, for his +muscles were stiff, but he was straight as an arrow. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—why, Dick, where is your cane? You’ll +fall—” and then something must have whispered to +the girl,—perhaps it was intuition for in a flash she +seemed to know. +</p> +<p> +“Dick,” she gasped, “you’ve had the operation, and +you’re all right?” This last was in a tense whisper. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_448'></a>448</span> +</p> +<p> +“You bet I am,” returned Dick cheerily, “and in +good shape, too. The doctor says I can go home in a +week.” +</p> +<p> +“But where did you get the money?” asked the +girl, her eyes big with wonder. +</p> +<p> +“From a check sent by Mrs. Van Vorst as a tribute +to her little friend and adviser, Nathalie Page,” read +Dick slowly from a letter which he had suddenly +slipped from his pocket. As he glanced down at the +girl and saw her staring eyes he flicked the letter before +them, laughing as if to recall her to herself. +Nathalie blinked, stepped back, and then a sudden light +flashed into her eyes, and with a swoop of her hand +she snatched the letter from her brother, crying, “Oh, +Dick, isn’t she just the dearest! Oh, I’m not worth +so much money, I—” Then her eyes swept the page +before her. +</p> +<p> +“No, I don’t believe you are, Blue Robin,” teased +Dick smilingly. And then his voice grew more earnest, +as he added, “Nathalie Page, you’re the blood, +all right. You captured her heart on sight, and this is +the result.” He started to walk slowly towards the +bed, but the girl was at his side, for she saw that he +was beginning to feel a little tired. +</p> +<p> +“To be sure,” he cried apologetically as he leaned +on her a little heavily. “I’m not a speeder just yet, +but wait a bit and you’ll see me do a twenty-mile dash +in no time. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_449'></a>449</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” explained Dick, after he was resting on the +bed again, and Mrs. Van Vorst’s kindness had been +rehearsed in detail; “Mrs. Van Vorst sent a letter to +Mother expressing her love, admiration, and all the +rest of it, for you, and then begged to be allowed to +give you this surprise. She said we could consider +the money a loan and pay it back when we liked.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, was that the letter that came just before I +went away, that you wouldn’t tell me about?” +</p> +<p> +Dick nodded, and then went on, “I was brought +here the day after you left for the Lake; operated on +the day after, and have had the jolliest time ever since. +The nurses here are O. K. I have only been permitted +to stand on my feet the last few days, but the +doctor says I’ll soon be walking all right. But Blue +Robin, how goes it with you? I hear you’re a great +sport since you left.” +</p> +<p> +But Nathalie’s thoughts were elsewhere. “Oh, +Dick,” she exclaimed presently, “when do you think +we can pay Mrs. Van Vorst the money back? I have +some, you know—” her eyes grew bright—“fifty +dollars, in the bank!” +</p> +<p> +“And I have, well, I guess I have more than that,” +said the boy proudly, “from the various jobs I did. +Oh, Nathalie, did I tell you I wrote a little skit and +sold it to ‘Life’ for fifty dollars?” +</p> +<p> +“You did?” ejaculated the girl. “Oh, I’m so +glad! I always said you could write funny things. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_450'></a>450</span> +Well, that will make—” but at this moment she heard +the door open. Oh, it was Mrs. Van Vorst—what +should she say to thank her? +</p> +<p> +But the question faded from her mind as with a +cry of delight she sprang into the outstretched arms of +her mother. +</p> +<p> +Well, it seemed as if the three would never get +through going over this great joy that had come into +their lives! Then, too, they were all anxious to pay +back as soon as possible Mrs. Van Vorst’s kind loan. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” said Nathalie at length, “I am sure if we +all work hard we can do it pretty soon. How much +did you say it cost?” +</p> +<p> +But before Dick could answer Mrs. Page cried, +taking a hand of each as she spoke, “It will take time +to be sure, but Mother is going to do her share, for, +children, the bonds are all right, I received my interest +yesterday, the usual six per cent.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, isn’t that just too lovely!” exclaimed Nathalie. +But before she could say more the door +opened and Mrs. Van Vorst and Nita entered, Nita all +shyness again as she bowed stiffly to Dick, whom she +had always been anxious to meet. And then the unexpected +happened, for as Nathalie turned to thank her +kind benefactor she burst into tears and cried as if her +heart would break, to the dismay of every one present. +Oh, what a fool she did make of herself, she +afterwards confessed with shamed eyes to Helen. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_451'></a>451</span> +</p> +<p> +But Mrs. Van Vorst had been a girl herself once, +and so she understood just how her young friend felt. +She comforted Nathalie so sweetly that the girl fell +in love with her over again, her tears dried, and she was +soon her happy self. +</p> +<p> +In a short space the good-bys were said to Dick, and +the four ladies hurried to the taxi that was to whirl +them to Westport. Of course there was so much to +tell and talk over during the journey that it was not +until Nathalie was undressing for bed that she heard +that as soon as Dick was able he and her mother were +to spend two weeks at Eagle Lake with Mrs. Van +Vorst. Nathalie received this news with unfeigned +joy, for now her mother would have a change, and +then she and Dick could see what a lovely place the +Lake was. +</p> +<p> +There had been so many unexpected bits of brightness +to make Nathalie happy that day that when she +finally got into bed, although she was terribly tired, +her brain was in such a whirl she was sure she would +never go to sleep. But at last, with a drowsy sigh, she +snuggled down on her pillow with the happy thought +that she was so glad she had found that nest—of blue +birds—and had become—a Girl Pioneer! +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>THE END</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>American Heroes and Heroines</span> +</p> +<p> +By <span class='sc'>Pauline Carrington Bouvé</span> +</p> +<p> +Illustrated 12mo Cloth $1.25 <em>net</em> +</p> +<p> +This book, which will tend directly toward +the making of patriotism in young Americans, +contains some twenty brief, clever and attractive +sketches of famous men and women in American +history, among them Father Marquette, Anne +Hutchinson, Israel Putnam, Molly Pitcher, Paul +Jones, Dolly Madison, Daniel Boone, etc. Mrs. +Bouvé is well known as a writer both of fiction and +history, and her work in this case is admirable. +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“The style of the book for simplicity and clearness +of expression could hardly be excelled.”—<em>Boston Budget.</em> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>The Scarlet Patch</span> +</p> +<p> +The Story of a Patriot Boy in the Mohawk Valley +</p> +<p> +By <span class='sc'>Mary E. Q. Brush</span> Illustrated $1.25 <em>net</em> +</p> +<p> +“The Scarlet Patch” was the badge of a Tory organization, and a +loyal patriot boy, Donald Bastien, is dismayed at learning that his +uncle, with whom he is a “bound boy,” is secretly connected with this +treacherous band. Thrilling scenes follow in which a faithful Indian +figures prominently, and there is a vivid presentation of the school and +home life as well as the public affairs of those times. +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“A book that will be most valuable to the library of the young +boy.”—<em>Providence News.</em> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Stories of Brave Old Times</span> +</p> +<p> +Some Pen Pictures of Scenes Which +Took Place Previous to, or Connected +With, the American Revolution +</p> +<p> +By <span class='sc'>Helen M. Cleveland</span> +</p> +<p> +Profusely illustrated +</p> +<p> +Large 12mo Cloth $1.25 <em>net</em> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“It is a book for every library, a book for +adults, and a book for the young. Perhaps +no other book yet written sets the great +cost of freedom so clearly before the young, +consequently is such a spur to patriotism. +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +“It can unqualifiedly be commended as a book for +youthful readers; its great wealth of illustrations +adding to its value.”—<em>Chicago News.</em> +</p> +<p> +For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price +by the publishers, +</p> +<p> +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>A Little Maid of Boston Town</span> +</p> +<p> +By MARGARET SIDNEY +</p> +<p> +12mo Cloth +</p> +<p> +Illustrated by F. T. MERRILL $1.35 <em>net</em> +</p> +<p> +The opening chapters introduce us to +old Boston in England. Margaret +Sidney went there in 1907 and absorbed +the atmosphere of Cotton Mather’s “St. +Botolph’s Town,” gathering for herself +facts and traditions. Then “St. Botolph’s +Town” yields its scenic effects, and the +setting of the story is changed to Boston +Town of New England. +</p> +<p> +The story is absorbing, graphic, and +truly delightful, carrying one along till it +seems as if actual participation in the +events had been the lot of the reader. The same naturalness +that is so conspicuous in her famous “Pepper Books” marks +this latest story of Margaret Sidney’s. She makes characters +live and speak for themselves. +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +It is an inspiring, patriotic story for the young, and contains striking +and realistic pictures of the times with which it deals.—<em>Sunday School +Magazine, Nashville.</em> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +The author presents a story, but she gives a veracious picture of conditions +in the town of Boston during the Revolution. Parents who are +seeking wholesome books can place this in the front tank with entire +safety.—<em>Boston Globe.</em> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +Surely Margaret Sidney deserves the gratitude of many a child, and +grown-ups, too, for that matter, in telling in so charming, yet, withal, so +simple a manner, of these early days in this country.—<em>Utica Observer.</em> +</p> +<p style='margin-left: 2em;margin-right: 2em;'> +A really thrilling tale of the American Revolution. Interesting for +both old and young.—<em>Minneapolis Journal.</em> +</p> +<p> +<em>For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of +price by the publishers</em> +</p> +<p> +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;'>JEAN CABOT SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By GERTRUDE FISHER SCOTT +</p> +<p> +Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott 12mo Cloth +</p> +<p> +Price, Net, $1.25 each +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Jean Cabot at Ashton</span> +</p> +<p> +Here is the “real thing” in a girl’s +college story. Older authors can invent +situations and supply excellently written +general delineations of character, but all +lack the vital touch of this work of a bright +young recent graduate of a well-known +college for women, who has lost none of the +enthusiasm felt as a student. Every activity +of a popular girl’s first year is woven into a +narrative, photographic in its description of +a life that calls into play most attractive +qualities, while at the same time severely +testing both character and ability. +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Jean Cabot in the British Isles</span> +</p> +<p> +This is a college story, although dealing with a summer vacation, +and full of college spirit. It begins with a Yale-Harvard boat +race at New London, but soon Jean and her room-mate sail for Great +Britain under the chaperonage of Miss Hooper, a favorite member of the +faculty at Ashton College. Their trip is full of the delight that comes +to the traveler first seeing the countries forming “our old home.” +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Jean Cabot in Cap and Gown</span> +</p> +<p> +Jean Cabot is a superb young woman, physically and mentally, +but thoroughly human and thus favored with many warm friendships. +Her final year at Ashton College is the culmination of a +course in which study, sport and exercise, and social matters have +been well balanced. +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Jean Cabot at the House With the Blue Shutters</span> +</p> +<p> +Such a group as Jean and her most intimate friends could not +scatter at once, as do most college companions after graduation, +and six of them under the chaperonage of a married older graduate +and member of the same sorority spend a most eventful summer in a +historic farm-house in Maine. +</p> +<p> +For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt +of price by the publishers +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +BRAVE HEART SERIES +</p> +<p> +By Adele E. Thompson +</p> +<p> +Illustrated 12mo Cloth <em>Net</em> $1.25 each +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Betty Seldon, Patriot</span> +</p> +<p> +A book that is at the same time fascinating and noble. Historical +events are accurately traced leading up to the surrender of Cornwallis +at Yorktown, with reunion and happiness for all who deserve it. +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Brave Heart Elizabeth</span> +</p> +<p> +It is a story of the making of the Ohio frontier, much of it taken from +life, and the heroine one of the famous Zane family after which Zanesville, +O., takes its name. An accurate, pleasing, and yet at times intensely +thrilling picture of the stirring period of border settlement. +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>A Lassie of the Isles</span> +</p> +<p> +This is the romantic story of Flora Macdonald, the lassie of Skye, who +aided in the escape of Charles Stuart, otherwise known as the +“Young Pretender.” +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Polly of the Pines</span> +</p> +<p> +The events of the story occur in the years 1775-82. Polly was an +orphan living with her mother’s family, who were Scotch Highlanders, +and for the most part intensely loyal to the Crown. Polly finds +the glamor of loyal adherence hard to resist, but her heart turns towards +the patriots and she does much to aid and encourage them. +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>American Patty</span> +</p> +<p> +A Story of 1812 +</p> +<p> +Patty is a brave, winsome girl of sixteen +whose family have settled across the Canadian +border and are living in peace and +prosperity, and on the best of terms with the +neighbors and friendly Indians. All this is +suddenly and entirely changed by the breaking +out of war, and unwillingness on the part of +her father and brother to serve against their +native land brings distress and deadly peril. +</p> +<p> +<em>For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt +of price to the publishers</em> +</p> +<p> +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>HEROES OF HISTORY SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +A newly grouped collection of standard +favorites—the kind that never grow old. +In school and public libraries and intelligent +homes these books are recognized as outweighing +any number of the trashy newer juveniles +so much in evidence, and for bright boys and +girls they hold a high interest. The pleasing +new covers, at the same low price, give them +a renewed welcome. +</p> +<p> +Twenty titles by unsurpassed writers +of history for the young: Towle, Headley, +Bogart, Watson, and Frost. +</p> +<p> +New cover design, with side titles. +Illustrated. Price per volume, 60 cents. +</p> +<p> +By GEORGE M. TOWLE +</p> +<p> + 1. DRAKE; The Sea King of Devon.<br /> + 2. MAGELLAN; First Around the World.<br /> + 3. MARCO POLO; His Travels and Adventures.<br /> + 4. PIZARRO; His Adventures and Conquests.<br /> + 5. RALEGH; His Voyages and Adventures.<br /> + 6. VASCO DA GAMA; His Voyages and Adventures.<br /> + 7. HEROES AND MARTYRS OF INVENTION.<br /> +</p> +<p> +By P. C. HEADLEY +</p> +<p> + 8. FACING THE ENEMY; Life of Gen. W. T. Sherman.<br /> + 9. FIGHT IT OUT ON THIS LINE; Life of Gen. U. S. Grant.<br /> +</p> +<p> +By W. H. BOGART +</p> +<p> + 10. BORDER BOY; Life of Daniel Boone.<br /> +</p> +<p> +By HENRY C. WATSON +</p> +<p> + 11. FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY; Life of Washington.<br /> + 12. FRIEND OF WASHINGTON; Life of Lafayette.<br /> + 13. GREAT PEACEMAKER; Life of William Penn.<br /> + 14. POOR RICHARD’S STORY; Life of Franklin.<br /> +</p> +<p> +By JOHN FROST +</p> +<p> + 15. GREAT EXPOUNDER; Life of Daniel Webster<br /> + 16. LITTLE CORPORAL; Life of Napoleon.<br /> + 17. OLD HICKORY; Life of Andrew Jackson.<br /> + 18. OLD ROUGH AND READY; Life of Gen. Zachary Taylor.<br /> + 19. MILL BOY OF THE SLASHES; Life of Henry Clay.<br /> + 20. SWAMP FOX; Life of Gen. Francis Marion.<br /> +</p> +<p> +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Four Gordons</span> +</p> +<p> +By EDNA A. BROWN +</p> +<p> +Illustrated Large 12mo Decorated Cover $1.35 <em>net</em> +</p> +<p> +Louise and her three brothers are the “Four +Gordons,” and the story relates their experiences +at home and school during the absence +of their parents for a winter in Italy. There +is plenty of fun and frolic, with skating, coasting, +dancing, and a jolly Christmas visit. The +conversation is bright and natural, the book +presents no improbable situations, its atmosphere +is one of refinement, and it has the merit +of depicting simple and wholesome comradeship +between boys and girls. +</p> +<p> +“The story and its telling are worthy of Miss Alcott. +Young folks of both sexes will enjoy it.”—<em>N.Y. Sun</em>. +</p> +<p> +“It is a hearty, wholesome story of youthful life +in which the morals are never explained but simply +illustrated by logical results.”—<em>Christian Register</em>. +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:larger;font-weight:bold;'>Uncle David’s Boys</span> +</p> +<p> +By EDNA A. BROWN +</p> +<p> +Illustrated by John Goss 12mo Cloth +</p> +<p> +Price $1.35 <em>net</em> +</p> +<p> +This tells how some young people whom circumstances +brought together in a little mountain +village spent a summer vacation, full of good +times, but with some unexpected and rather mysterious +occurrences. In the end, more than one +head was required to find out exactly what was +going on. The story is a wholesome one with a +pleasant, well-bred atmosphere, and though it +holds the interest, it never approaches the sensational +nor passes the bounds of the probable. +</p> +<p> +“A story which will hold the attention of youthful +readers from cover to cover and prove not without its +interest for older readers.”—<em>Evening Wisconsin</em>. +</p> +<p> +“For those young people who like a lively story +with some unmistakably old fashioned characteristics, +‘Uncle David’s Boys,’ will have a strong appeal.”—<em>Churchman</em>. +</p> +<p> +<em>For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of +price by the publishers</em> +</p> +<p> +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON +</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer, by Rena I. 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