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diff --git a/36846-8.txt b/36846-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aef4864 --- /dev/null +++ b/36846-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12120 @@ +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: ISO-8859-1 + +*** 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 + + + + + +[Illustration: “What can I do for you? Are you in pain?”] + + BLUE ROBIN, + THE GIRL PIONEER + + BY + + RENA I. HALSEY + + _ILLUSTRATED BY NANA FRENCH BICKFORD_ + + BOSTON + LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. + + + + + Published, March, 1917 + + Copyright, 1917 + By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co. + + _All rights reserved_ + BLUE ROBIN, THE GIRL PIONEER + + Norwood Press + BERWICK & SMITH CO. + NORWOOD, MASS. + U. S. A. + + + + + BLUE ROBIN THE GIRL PIONEER + IS + AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED + TO + + MISS LINA BEARD + + FOUNDER + AND + CHIEF PIONEER + OF + THE NATIONAL INCORPORATED + ORGANIZATION OF + THE GIRL PIONEERS OF AMERICA + + + + + WHAT ARE “GIRL PIONEERS”? + +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. + +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. + +The watchword of the Girl Pioneer is, “I Can.” + +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, +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 _is building up bodily health +and strength_ to keep pace with the mental and moral health that is +being developed within her. + +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. + +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 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + + Secretary of Girl Pioneers of America, + Flushing, New York. + + + + + FOREWORD + +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 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!” + + Rena I. Halsey. + _Brooklyn,_ + _January 1, 1917._ + + + + + CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I The Nest in the Old Cedar 11 + II Her Next-door Neighbor 27 + III Girl Pioneers 40 + IV Nathalie Is Asked to Become a Blue Robin 55 + V The Gray Stone House 72 + VI Working into Harness 90 + VII The Mayflower Feast 108 + VIII The Motto, “I Can” 126 + IX Searching for Rosy 143 + X Nathalie as the Story Lady 159 + XI The Princess in the Tower 179 + XII The Wild-flower Hike 194 + XIII Around the Cheer Fire 213 + XIV Overcomes 230 + XV A Chapter of Surprises 250 + XVI Pioneer Stunts 270 + XVII Liberty Banners 289 + XVIII The Princess Makes Two More Friends 308 + XIX The Fagot Party 330 + XX The Dutch _Kraeg_ 348 + XXI An Invitation 366 + XXII Camp Laff-a-Lot 385 + XXIII Miss Camphelia 403 + XXIV The Wireless Operator 421 + XXV Good-by to Eagle Lake 438 + + + + + ILLUSTRATIONS + + “What can I do for you? Are you in pain?” _Frontispiece_ + “Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen 122 + “Why, how did you get there?” 172 + “Oh, don’t be frightened!” exclaimed the princess, + with a merry laugh 194 + The rope had broken in her grasp 228 + Up went two hands in pretended subjugation 290 + With an unearthly shriek was flying across the lawn 338 + She dropped the ashes of Miss Dummy into the placid water 436 + + + + +BLUE ROBIN, THE GIRL PIONEER + + + + +CHAPTER I—THE NEST IN THE OLD CEDAR + + +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!” + +“Blue robins?” quizzed her brother Dick from where he lay reading in the +hammock. “Who ever heard of blue robins?” + +“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. + +A moment later they were strolling across the new-grown 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. + +“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?” + +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.” + +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. + +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, and +watched them with eyes that shone like two fireflies. + +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. + +“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.” + +Her mother nodded as she answered, “Yes, and his beautiful coat is in +striking contrast to his throat and breast, which are reddish-brown.” + +“And the white feathers below,” continued Nathalie, with keen eyes, +“look like a white apron.” + +“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.” + +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?” + +“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 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. + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +Hearing Nathalie’s step, she hastily hid her tear-stained 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—” + +“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! + +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. + +“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!” + +“Um-m, well, you are always finding something to 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. + +Mrs. Page looked up with a startled expression as she murmured +apologetically, “Oh, I forgot, Lucille. I will do it—I thought—” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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 giggle, “Or perhaps she is some aspiring member of the militants.” + +“Why, I think the uniform—for I presume it is that—” interposed Mrs. +Page, “is very attractive, and most appropriate for a Girl Pioneer.” + +“Why, Mother, how do you know she is a Girl Pioneer?” questioned +Nathalie with mild amazement. + +“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.’” + +“The Girl Pioneers of America!” repeated her daughter; “why, I never +heard of them. Is it a patriotic society?” + +“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.” + +“I wonder what they do, and if it is anything like the Boy Scouts!” +continued Nathalie interestedly. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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.” + +Lucille frowned impatiently and resumed her reading. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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 she +turned and watched the peculiar-looking figure as it glided with almost +specter-like swiftness down the hill. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +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 glance of +dismissal she turned and ascended the library steps. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +“Oh, are you hurt?” asked the girl quickly, as she saw Nathalie’s white +face resting against the tree. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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! + + + + +CHAPTER II—HER NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR + + +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. + +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. + +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?” + +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 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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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 older brother, had injured his knee in an +accident and was an invalid, and how she liked her new home. + +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?” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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 every stitch, +but that was the child’s way of showing that she, too, wanted to be +sympathetic and kind. + +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. + +“Indeed I do,” answered Nathalie animatedly, “I have been just dying to +talk with you ever since you were so kind.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Do you know,” Nathalie broke in impulsively, “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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Yes, she is a dear,” assented Helen, “and we girls adore her. Have you +seen the twins?” + +“The kiddies who go about in khaki uniforms and carry little poles.” + +“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 there is +no end to me when I get talking on that subject.” + +“But I want to hear about them!” pleaded Nathalie. + +“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.” + +“Qualify?” repeated her hostess, “that sounds big.” + +“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 true Pioneer’s aim is to be courageous, +resourceful, and upright, under all circumstances and in all +emergencies. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +“Big!” echoed Nathalie, “the word _big_ isn’t big enough to express it. +I should say it meant—well”—she held out her arms, “the universe.” + +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. + +“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. + +“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, cooking-matches,—I call +them trials by fire,—sewing-bees, and all sorts of old-fashioned +things.” + +“But you have outdoor sports, too, do you not?” asked her listener, who +was intensely interested. + +“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?” + +“How did you come to take the name ‘Pioneer’?” + +“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—” + +“Do you mean the wives of the Puritans and Pilgrims?” + +“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 not originating, I am only an echo of Mrs. +Morrow, who is way up on Colonial history. + +“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!” + +“Oh, go on!” cried Nathalie, inspired by her guest’s fervency, “I just +love to hear you talk.” + +“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. + +“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—” + +“Who isn’t?” replied Miss Dame, “for she was a dear. Mary Chilton was a +friend of hers. Why, 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.” + +“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.” + +“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 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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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!” + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER III—GIRL PIONEERS + + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +An “oh!” escaped Helen involuntarily, as her eyes gloomed a little, but +her companion plunged recklessly on. + +“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 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. + +“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. + +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 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. + +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? + +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. + +“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 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. + +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 + + “Hear! hear! hear! Girl Pioneer! + Come, give a cheer, G-i-r-l Pi-o-neer!” + +“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, + + “Hear! hear! a cheer for Nathalie dear! + Girl Pi-o-neer! Girl Pi-o-neer!” + +If Nathalie’s color had been going and coming, it now flooded her face +as she laughingly held out her hand to each one in turn, giving a soft +little squeeze that made each girl vote her a comrade. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 as a joke that we all change +costumes. O dear, what a laugh we had on Jess!” + +Miss Jessie, however, only smiled at all of this chaffing, as if proud +of this proof of her alertness and stepped to one side. + +“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. + +“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. + +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.” + +“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 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. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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. + +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.” + +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. + +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 Barbara +Worth; she is very learned—she knows it all.” + +“Oh, Helen!” came in pained expostulation from the girl, as her eyes +turned distressfully upon her hostess in shamed embarrassment. + +“Oh, Barbara, don’t mind,” spoke up Lillie Bell kindly, “Helen is only +in fun.” + +Barbara looked somewhat relieved at this brace to her injured feelings, +and then stood nervously clasping and unclasping her hands together. + +“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?” + +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.” + +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. + +“This little damsel is Louise Gaynor,” introduced Helen; “she is the +Flower of the family—spelt both 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. + +“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?” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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?” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“How to bathe and bandage a sprained foot—” + +“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. + +“Then we have to know how to restore a person who has fainted,” some one +volunteered. + +“And learn the Fireman’s Lift,” added another girl. + +“Oh, let’s tell things from the beginning!” interrupted some methodical +girl from the farther end of the porch. + +“Oh, but I told Miss Page—” Helen stopped, for her hostess was looking +at her with beseeching eyes, clearly due to the formal title. + +“Won’t you please call me Nathalie?” the owner of that name ventured +with a coaxing little smile. + +“If you will say Helen,” replied the girl with evident delight. + +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—” + +“Boil a potato as it should be done!” interrupted Lillie Bell. This was +impressively said, and followed by a chime of laughter from the girls. + +“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—” + +“You didn’t do any better,” cried Lillie Bell irrelevantly, “for you +sooted the whole bunch of us.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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—” + +“Or any other foreign substance!” + +“We have to know all the primary colors, too,” went on Edith. + +“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.” + +“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 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. + +“You have forgotten about the trees!” called out the Sport. + +“Yes, we have to name three kinds of trees, three flowers and three +birds.” + +“Easy!” chimed the girls in unison. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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 she might see the +group of merry girls on the veranda. + +“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. + +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’!” + + + + +CHAPTER IV—NATHALIE IS ASKED TO BECOME A BLUE ROBIN + + +“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. + +“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!” + +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.” + +“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.” + +“Pshaw, we all know that,” returned the Sport unfeelingly, “but that is +no reason why she should make every one else suffer, too.” + +“Granted,” rejoined Helen, “but she has grown to look at things through +morbid eyes.” + +“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. + +“Who is she, and why does she go about in that queer gray gown?” +inquired Nathalie, insistently. + +“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.” + +“Oh, the big house with the beautiful Dutch garden,” exclaimed Nathalie, +“and the queer little house at one side of it?” + +“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.” + +“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 her little child—I don’t know whether it is a boy or +girl—and—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Oh, how could she?” ejaculated Nathalie with a shudder. + +“Well, when she came home and remembered it—it wasn’t in the room—” + +“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.” + +“Dead?” cried Nathalie in a shocked tone. + +“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.” + +“Oh, I don’t wonder she mourns in gray then!” exclaimed Nathalie. “I +feel sorry for her!” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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 Pioneers. Then she slowly read aloud: + + “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.” + + — Bradford. + + * * * * * + + Ye presence of ye young maide, Mistress Nathalie Page is enjoined to + appear on ye 23rd of this month at ye Common House (Seton Hall) on + ye corner of ye cross roades to Bergen Town, to join with ye maides + of ye colony of Westport in a seemly diversion and Mayflower Feast. + + Postscript: Kindly come apparelled in ye meeting-house cloathes and + behave as a young maide should so do. + + From the Girl Pioneers of America, ye Many-greated-grand-daughters + of ye Mothers of ye Pilgrim Colony, who came to this new world in ye + good sloop MAYFLOWER in 1620. + +The expression of wonderment in Nathalie’s eyes changed to one of +amusement as she laughingly cried, “My, but you are the real article!” + +“Yes, the scribe did that,” said Helen proudly; “I think it ought to be +put in a glass case.” + +“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 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.” + +“But what does it mean?” demanded Nathalie curiously. “What have you to +do with the Pilgrims?” + +“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.” + +“Or what she doesn’t know, generally,” broke in Lillie, dryly. + +“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 _Mayflower_?” + +“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 +about with long faces, telling people they would go to the devil if they +dared to smile.” + +“There, Jess,” broke in Lillie Bell mischievously, “you needn’t get +profane over it.” + +“Of course they were grim and forbidding-looking,” supplemented Kitty, +“and—” + +“And sanctimonious,” added some one, “with their blue laws.” + +“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?” + +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. + +“Ye Stars! it is the Flower of the Family,” whispered Edith; “what has +come to her?” + +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.” + +“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. + +“Now, do you suppose,” went on Helen, “that these picked men—” + +“This choice grain,” corrected the Sport softly, who was trying hard to +create a laugh. + +“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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +“The Boy Scouts are going to pick the flowers for us!” chimed the Tike, +her good-natured face beaming good-fellowship at Nathalie. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“We don’t know yet,” was Helen’s practical rejoinder, “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.” + +“Oh, get Lillie Bell to tell us one of her stories!” cried the Sport, +who was a warm admirer of the story-teller. + +“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.” + +“Oh, yes, do!” pleaded her hostess, who had been wishing that she might +hear one of the story-teller’s thrillers. + +“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.” + +“Oh, it was maddening,” she sighed in dolorous reminiscence, “but there +was no way out of it, for we 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!” + +“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. + +“Oh, let’s vary the entertainment,” suggested Grace, “and sing our +Pioneer song for Miss Page.” + +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”: + + “We laugh, we sing, we jump, we run, + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + We’re always having lots of fun; + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + The wild birds answer to our call, + These feathered friends in trees so tall; + We learn to know them one and all. + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + + Refrain. + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + We will be brave, and kind, and true; + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 young hostess had risen to her feet and was standing with +outstretched hand. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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!” + +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. + +Presently Nathalie looked up and laughed, for Dick did look so funny as +he hobbled from one girl to 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?” + +“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.” + +“But I thought the name of this group was Bluebird,” answered Nathalie +in some surprise. + +“So it is,” returned Mrs. Morrow, “but you know, bluebird means blue +robin, too.” + +“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. + +“But please inform me, Mrs. Morrow,” now spoke that young man, “why you +say bluebirds are blue robins?” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“Oh, yes, Miss Page, do!” came quickly to Nathalie’s ears; “we should +love to have you one of us.” + +“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. + +“And I’ll help!” added Grace. “And so will I,” “And I!” chimed several +girlish voices. + +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. + +“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.” + +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 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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER V—THE GRAY STONE HOUSE + + +“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.” + +“That is because you have been on probation for a Pioneer,” retorted +Helen smilingly, “and are beginning to take life more seriously.” + +“Not very seriously, I am afraid,” lamented Nathalie, “judging from the +bungle I made in trying to learn that square knot.” + +“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 that Mrs. Dame had been denied +because her husband’s income was limited. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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. + +“Oh, will you?” cried Nathalie, “but when can I become one?” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“How did your brother injure his knee?” asked Helen as she paused at the +foot of the steps, “I have often wanted to ask.” + +“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!” + +“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. + +Nathalie watched her friend with brightening eyes 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. + +“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. + +“What did the doctor say, Mumsie?” she demanded anxiously. “Will Dick be +lame?” + +“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. + +“It is all right, I am just a coward.” Mrs. Page 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. + +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—” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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 sank back in her chair and dabbed her +reddened eyelids with her moist handkerchief. + +“But, Mumsie, tell me, why is it necessary for Dick to have an +operation?” questioned Nathalie insistently with anxious eyes. + +“The doctor says there is a bone in his leg infected. It will have to be +removed, and a new bone put in.” + +“A new bone put in!” ejaculated Nathalie, “why—” + +“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. + +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 desk began to cry softly; she did not want Mother to hear. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +“I’ll be down in a moment,” she called out to Grace, who had just +entered the hall and was chatting with 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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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.” + +“But, Mother,” suddenly questioned the girl with uneasy eyes, “do—do you +think I ought to become a Pioneer?” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“Oh, I forgot to tell you, but Mrs. Morrow has asked me to deliver a +note to ‘The Mystic.’” + +“‘The Mystic?’” echoed Nathalie in doubting amazement, “why I thought +she had never had anything to do—” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +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.” + +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!” + +“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.” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“But that clock is a dear!” she murmured as her gaze lingered admiringly +upon a tall grandfather’s clock 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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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?” + +“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. + +“Yes, and how about the blue robins?” he continued in a quizzing tone. + +“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. + +The conversation soon drifted to Boy Scouts, Fred being a Patrol Leader, +and greatly interested in the 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +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 peonies and many old-time posies grew in a riotous +hedge around it. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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 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. + +“Oh, what is it?” whispered Grace in a hoarse whisper, as she stared in +paralyzed appeal at Nathalie. + +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! + +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! + + + + +CHAPTER VI—WORKING INTO HARNESS + + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +She smiled in a way that made Nathalie, whose intuitions were keen, +exclaim hastily, “Oh, indeed, Mrs. 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. + +“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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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. + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + +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!” + +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.” + +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!” + +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.” + +The girls sprang quickly but noiselessly on their feet, crying: + + “Whom have we here? + A new Pioneer! + Come give a cheer + Girl Pi-o-neer + Nathalie Page!” + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +Mrs. Morrow stood silent a moment and then repeated slowly: + + “Life is more than the breath and the quick round of blood, + It is a great spirit and a busy heart. + We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths; + In feelings, not figures on a dial. + We should count time as heart throbs. He most lives + Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.” + —Bailey. + +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 plaited slips of paper, while Mrs. Morrow +told them something about the art of weaving. + +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! + +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. + +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 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. + +“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. + +“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!” + +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. + +“Oh, it’s only blue paper muslin,” explained the “flier,” as her mates +had called her, when they examined 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.” + +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. + +“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: + + “Oh I’m the flower that never dies, + ’Neath leaves so brown in bed so low. + The arbutus, who in glad surprise + Bloomed ‘Welcome’ from fields of snow + To our Pilgrim sires of long ago.” + +“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. + +“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 _Mayflower_ rode at anchor in Cape 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?” + +“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. + +“Oh, don’t fret; a bad penny always turns up!” chimed in Kitty, who did +not particularly admire the Sport. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“Her Sweet Graciousness, Mistress Carver, waits for you without in the +Common House.” + + “Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of Priscilla, + Priscilla, the Mayflower of Plymouth!” + +Thus hummed Lillie as she walked around this winsome representation of +that Puritan maiden, surveying her critically, but with approving eye. + +“Oh, you’re just too sweet for anything!” warbled another bluebird, +“you’re—” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +Immediately the missing Pioneer began to be eulogized for her clever and +mysterious absence, as these representatives of hundreds of years ago +circled about 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. + +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. + +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 on a plot of +ground known as the _Koltsteeg_, and called Bell Alley, just across the +way from the great dome of St. Peter’s church. + +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 _Mayflower_ on the +twenty-second of July, 1620. + +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. + +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 +_Mayflower_, said to have been written on an old chest, and known as The +Compact, the first stone in the American Commonwealth. + +The Governor’s lady enlivened the tedious voyage over by telling of +several little incidents that had occurred; one was when the _Mayflower_ +during a severe storm was saved from going to the bottom by some one +wedging a _kracht_, or jackscrew, in a leak that had suddenly sprung +amidships. + +Little Humility Cooper, one of the children of the _Mayflower_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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 +_Mayflower_; Bridget Fuller, the wife of the genial Dr. Fuller, and +others, were all impersonated by some one of the Pioneers. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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?” + + + + +CHAPTER VII—THE MAYFLOWER FEAST + + +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!” + +“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—” + +“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. + +“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.” + +Grace, who had been listening intently to the Sport’s recital, looked up +quickly and encountered a glance 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. + +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 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!” + +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?” + +“What became of the man?” inquired Helen tersely. + +“Oh, yes, what became of him?” added one or two others. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“But what could the screams have been?” asked Helen, wonderingly, “if +they really came from the garden?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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. + +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!” + +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 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. + +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!” + +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. + +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. + +“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!” + +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 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. + +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. + +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: + + “Ready! Ready! Scout! Scout! Scout! + Good turn daily! Shout! Shout! Shout!” + +The boys now fell into step again, and in a few moments had entered the +little wicker gate where they 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 any design that floats to the wind—the +uplift of mankind, Liberty, and Union! + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +After stonily staring over a pair of goggles at a few 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.” + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. Fred stated that he +expected to go to Dartmouth in the fall and was therefore looking +forward to it with much pleasure. + +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. + +“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?” + +“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?” + +“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. + +“Oh, what are they going to do?” she cried, but before her companion +could answer Helen came running up. + +“Come on, Nathalie, we are going to dance the Pioneer dance. It’s lots +of fun.” + +“But I don’t know it,” objected the girl. “I am not going to make a show +of myself before all these boys.” + +“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—” + +“Pioneer handcraft?” echoed Nathalie more puzzled than before. + +“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. + +Only a few explanations were necessary, and Nathalie, who was quick to +learn, joined her voice to the girlish ones singing: + + “Singing, ringing thro’ the air + Comes the song of Molly fair. + Milking, milking Crumple Horn + Down in the barn at early dawn.” + +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: + + “Churning, turning, see it splash, + This way, that way, with a dash.” + +As the next two lines rang out: + + “Skimming skimming foamy white, + Making the butter golden bright,” + +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. + +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: + + “Golden slumber kiss your eyes, + Smiles awake you when you rise. + Sleep pretty wantons, do not cry, + And I will sing a lullabye.” + +Another moment, and the arms had fallen, each girl faced her opposite +partner, and then linking hands together they were rocking a cradle as +they joyously warbled: + + “Baby is a sailor boy, swing, cradle, swing; + Sailing is the sailor’s joy, swing, cradle, swing.” + +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: + + “Good flax and good hemp to have of her own, + In May, a good housewife will see that it is sown. + And afterwards trim it to serve in a need, + The fimble to spin, the card from her reel.” + +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. + +[Illustration: “Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen.] + +“Polly Green, her reel,” announced Helen as leader of the dance, and +then came the old-fashioned couplet softly hummed: + + “Count your threads right, + If you reel in the night + When I am far away.” + +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. + +Now they are singing: + + “Twice a year deplumed may they be + In spryngen tyme and harvest tyme,” + +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. + +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 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: + + “Driving in twilight the waiting cows home, + With arms full-laden with hemlock boughs, + To be traced on a broom ere the coming day + From its eastern chamber should dance away.” + +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. + +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: + + “Niddy-noddy, niddy-noddy + Two heads on one body.” + +“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.” + +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 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: + + “Lola Standish is my name. + Lord, guide my heart that I may do thy will, + And fill my Hands with such convenient skill + As will conduce to Virtue void of shame, + And I will give the Glory to thy name.” + +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! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII—THE MOTTO, “I CAN” + + +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. + +Nathalie turned, and then with a quick movement sat up as she asked +anxiously, “Oh, Mother, has anything happened?” + +“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!” + +Nathalie, who had been off on a Pioneer demonstration most of the day, +showed her dismay as she exclaimed, “Oh, where is Ophelia?” + +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!” + +“But isn’t she coming back?” inquired alarmed Nathalie. + +“Not for several days,” was the answer, as Mrs. Page leaned wearily back +in her chair. + +“But can’t we get some one to help us?” demanded her daughter +insistently. + +“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.” + +“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. + +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. + +“Oh, why do people have to do the very things they hate?” she questioned +rebelliously as she arose from her comfortable position and with a +long-drawn sigh started to enter the house. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“Not now,” replied her mother with a brighter expression than she had +worn, “but perhaps you can help me later—when I get dinner.” + +“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 +spent in trying her hand at the many new interests that had come to her +as a Pioneer. + +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! + +“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.” + +“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 the hasty retort would slip out; she would have to put a +button on her lips as her mother often told her. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“But what can I do?” she continued doubtingly. + +“You can wash the dishes for your mother in the 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. + +“Oh, but I can’t cook, nobody would eat my breakfast,” she thought, +still holding back. + +“But if you are a Pioneer you should learn to do these things.” She +frowned as if to brush aside an unpleasant thought. + +“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. + +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: + + “We stick to work until it’s done + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers. + We never from our duty run, + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers. + We learn to cook, to sew, to mend + To sweep, to dust, to clean, to tend, + And always willing hands to lend.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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! + +Nathalie’s tears came at this; oh, why would not 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. + +Nathalie pursed up her lips and then broke into a “Tru-al-lee!” + +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?” + +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.” + +“What, you making a fire?” said Helen, and then, “Just wait a moment and +I will come over and see what is wrong.” + +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 friend and the two girls waltzed merrily around the +kitchen. + +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. + +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. + +How pleased and surprised her mother was! Dick “Blue Robined” her again, +while Lucille patronizingly exclaimed, “Oh, Nathalie, you make a swell +maid—and how smart you are getting!” + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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, it’s a new job I’m afther takin’ on meself, but do yez see the +loikes of it for the claneness?” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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 surprise, as she came near the door she heard a +loud wailing and the confused hum of several voices. + +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?” + +“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.” + +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?” + +“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 +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—” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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, 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. + +“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.” + +“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!” + + + + +CHAPTER IX—SEARCHING FOR ROSY + + +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. + +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!” + +“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—” + +“Oh, they have probably found the child by this time!” ventured Barbara +North, to Nathalie’s surprise, as she had always found her of a kindly +nature. + +“Well, _I_ for _one_ 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.” + +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—” + +“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. + +“I!” and “I!” shouted several voices at once in answer. + +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, I will not be as small as that, I will +show I do not care.” + +“There must be some one who thinks as I do,” she ended resolutely, +wishing that she could run from this affront to her sensitiveness. + +“I am with you, Nathalie!” suddenly cried Helen, walking towards her +friend and putting her arm around her. + +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—” + +“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. + +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.” + +“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. + +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?” + +Every hand flew up, and there was a general cry of, “I do! I do!” + +“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!” + +“Oh, I guess we just didn’t stop to think!” broke forth Barbara, with +shamed eyes. + +“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 right, but she had had time to think it all out and we hadn’t!” + +“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.” + +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.” + +“That is a very sensible decision, Nathalie,” nodded Mrs. Morrow, “but +the question is where to look first!” + +“Suppose we go down to the settlement, make a survey, and get our +bearings?” voiced Helen. + +“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. + +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 claimed would be of great help if any of the party got lost +and their voices did not carry. + +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. + +“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. + +“But where would she be apt to go?” inquired Nathalie, who had returned +in time to hear Mrs. Morrow’s remark. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +Lillie’s suggestion was a timely one, and as she, 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +Nathalie, impressed by the solemn stillness about her, slowly fanned +herself with her hat, while Edith 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. + +“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. + +“Wheew, whoit, wheew, whoit!” imitated the Sport with quick readiness. + +“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. + +“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! + +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 across to the clump of ferns where the bird had been +flying. + +“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. + +“It is Rosy’s hair-ribbon!” cried Nathalie. “I found it clinging to one +of the ferns.” + +“Oh, are you sure?” burst from Mrs. Morrow, her eyes eager with hope as +she bent over the little scarlet knot. + +“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!” + +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. + +In answer to her Blue Robin call, in a few moments 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!” + +“Oh, where? Where?” came in an instant from three throats as Kitty +leaned against a tree and panted. + +“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. + +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. + +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 the road-bed of a brook, but was now filled with +scraggy stones, dried underbrush, and fallen logs. + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“But we shall have to,” returned Mrs. Morrow as she finished examining +the injured limb, “for it is broken, and we must get her home as soon as +possible, for it will have to be set.” + +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. + +“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. + +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?” + +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 rag-dollie I made for you, don’t you remember +what a lovely time we had?” + +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!” + +“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?” + +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. + +But when she saw so many eyes watching her, she covered her tiny face +with her hand, shyly peeping out from between her fingers. + +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. + +But time was precious, and so with the promise of 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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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!” + +Nathalie softly unfastened the little hands that were clinging to hers, +and with a few bounds reached the road where, sure enough, she saw a few +yards ahead an automobile that had just passed. + +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!” + +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. + +“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! + +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. + +“Oh—I’m so sorry,” she panted apologetically, “but Mrs. Morrow thought +she heard an automobile, she was sure it was the doctor—” + +“Mrs. Morrow!” exclaimed the young man, “why, is she anywhere about?” He +jumped from his car as he spoke and came towards her. + +“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 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.” + +“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!” + + + + +CHAPTER X—NATHALIE AS THE STORY LADY + + +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? + +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. + +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. + +“Why, if it isn’t little Rosebud!” said the doctor jovially as he turned +from his sister and looked down at the helpless mite of humanity, lying +so patient and still in the stretcher. + +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. + +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. + +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—” + +“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!” + +“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 have +heard so much about Blue Robin, that somehow I thought she was a little +girl.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“A white star,” ejaculated Nathalie, “what does that mean?” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“But we didn’t think that, Nathalie,” assured Lillie quickly. “In fact, +I guess we just didn’t think at all, 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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +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. “Now,” she cried, softly patting the brown head, “tell +friend Helen all about it.” + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Oh, well, you’re tired,” replied Helen condolingly. “I know just how +you feel, for I used to feel the same way when I first began to help +Mother around the house. You see the enthusiasm and the glory have all +gone out of it.” + +“The enthusiasm and the glory?” repeated Nathalie in puzzled inquiry. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“I wish it would,” exclaimed Nathalie, her eyes flashing with sudden +hope, “for oh, Helen, I do so 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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +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. + +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—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +Nathalie looked up at her friend’s grave face with 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!” + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“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 to lay my plans before +Mother, and then I’m going to get some books and trinkets and go to see +Rosy.” + +“Oh, yes, how is she?” inquired Helen interestedly. “I was thinking +about her the other day.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“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. + +“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 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. + +“Good morning!” said the smiling visitor as she touched the half-buried +shoulder. + +At the sound of her voice the child’s woolly head rolled over, and a +smile of welcome radiated her tear-stained face. + +“How is it that you are all alone?” asked Nathalie, taking out an orange +from the basket; “where are Mother and Mammy?” + +“Mamma went to de town, and Mammy—she’s doin’ de wash,” and then her +eyes expanded with joy as she spied the orange. + +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. + +This performed, the picture-books were brought 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?” + +“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?” + +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.” + +“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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +[Illustration: “Why, how did you get there?”] + +“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. + +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. + +“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.’” + +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 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. + +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 anticipated, and the +thought that she was earning a mite towards a great object, as Helen +said, had proved the glory. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“No, I have not come about Dick,” was the reassuring answer. “I have +come to see you on important business. Dick is doing as well as can be +until he is operated on.” + +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.” + +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.” + +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. + +“Indeed I do, but now for the business.” + +“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?” + +The doctor gazed at her a moment with serious eyes 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.” + +“But what makes the operation necessary, and what would you do to him?” +she insistently demanded. + +“Well, I am not going to tell you exactly what we would do to him. We +shall not make hash of him—” + +“Oh, Doctor!” exclaimed Nathalie with a shiver. + +“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.” + +“Oh, Doctor Morrow,” cried the distressed girl, “you are kidding, as the +boys say.” + +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. + +“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 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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XI—THE PRINCESS IN THE TOWER + + +“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. + +“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. + +“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 with something else I was telling, and then my +troubles began.” + +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.” + +“Oh, how dreadfully she must suffer!” burst from Nathalie involuntarily. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“To-day—you mean now—this morning?” exclaimed surprised Nathalie. + +The doctor nodded gravely. + +“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. + +“Just wait a moment!” commanded the doctor suddenly, taking Nathalie by +the arm and peering down into her face with intent eyes. “I forgot +something, for amusing this little girl means that you will have to +promise two things.” + +“What are they?” asked the girl curiously. + +“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.” + +“Oh, that is easy,” nodded Nathalie; “that is, if you except Mamma, for +I always tell everything to her.” + +“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. + +“Blindfolded?” repeated puzzled Nathalie. “Why, do you mean that I will +have to have my eyes covered up so I can’t see?” + +Dr. Morrow nodded, his keen eyes watching the girl’s face intently. + +There was a pause. “Am I to go with you?” inquired Nathalie. The +doctor’s gray head jerked again. + +“Why, yes, I’m willing to be blinded—as long as you’re with me to lead +me about—but what a strange idea!” + +“Yes, it is a strange idea, and I tried to reason the 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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“So I am,” replied the doctor glumly. Evidently this blindfolding +business was not to his liking. + +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.” + +“I hope you won’t let me fall!” exclaimed Nathalie cheerily. “I don’t +want to break my nose or anything just yet.” + +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!” + +The voice did not belong to a small child and Nathalie, surprised, stood +still in embarrassed silence wondering what was coming next. + +“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 feel guilty; I know how unpleasant it +must be to have something over your eyes.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“Now,” continued the voice, “I am going to be your eyes and tell you +what is before you.” + +“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—” + +“Oh, Mamma, if you don’t want the young lady to 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. + +“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—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Oh, how could any one be unkind?” exclaimed horrified Nathalie. + +“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.” + +“How hard it must be!” answered Nathalie. “But do you never go out?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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. + +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 +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?” + +“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.” + +“Are you sure of that?” questioned conscience-stricken Nathalie. “The +doctor told me I was to tell you stories.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“Oh, aren’t you going to tell me about the Girl Pioneers?” was the +question that suddenly interrupted Nathalie’s train of thought. + +“The Girl Pioneers!” echoed Nathalie, wondering how her companion came +to know about that organization. + +“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!” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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 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.” + +“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. + +“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!” + +“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. + +“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.” + +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.” + +“No, I am not a little girl,” replied the princess, “I am fourteen.” + +“Miss Page, if you do not mind I shall be glad if 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.” + +“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. + +“Now that you have permission, please go right ahead and tell me +everything you know about the Pioneers!” + +“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. + +“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!” + +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 +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Everything is fair in love and war, that’s what my 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.” + +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! + + + + +CHAPTER XII—THE WILD FLOWER HIKE + + +“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! + +“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!” + +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. + +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! + +[Illustration: “Oh, don’t be frightened!” exclaimed the princess, with +a merry laugh.] + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +“Hello!” he cried at length, “what’s up?” after his companion had made +one or two ineffectual efforts to control her risibility. + +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. + +“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!” + +“I agree with you,” returned the doctor so solemnly 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. + +“You know where you were then to-day?” questioned the doctor slowly +after a pause. + +“Oh, yes, at the house of the Mystic!” + +“The house of the Mystic?” with some astonishment. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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.” + +“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. + +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 been +properly prepared and was in a “relishy condition,” as Helen explained +to Nathalie. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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?” + +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 one remembered that she had had her turn, and that now +it was Nathalie’s opportunity to have this pleasure as the new Pioneer. + +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. + +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. + +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 incentive for the girls +to do their best, especially Nathalie, who as a city-bred girl did not +want to prove a laggard. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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: + + “Hark to the East Wind’s song from the sea, + Blowing the misty clouds o’er lea; + Shaking the sheaves of golden grain + With the patter of the rain; + Giving the earth a cooling drink, + Washing the flow’rs a brighter pink. + Hark to the West Wind’s song of cheer + Bringing blue sky and weather clear; + Driving away the clouds so gray + Filling the earth with sunlight’s ray; + Cheering the hearts of those who mourn, + Filling the dark with golden dawn.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 a dome-shaped +wigwam and had rested in its shelter, high and dry, during a severe +storm. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +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?” + +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! + +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. + +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. + +This appeal had the desired effect, and as the clapping dwindled, +Nathalie, with a nervous laugh, cried, “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.” + +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. + +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. + +The hikers now seated themselves around the fires—for 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. + +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. + +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. + +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, so that it would +land in just the right place on the pan and finish to just the right +shade of brown. + +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!” + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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?” + +“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. + +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 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! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII—AROUND THE CHEER FIRE + + +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. + +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!” + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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, 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. + +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. + +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. + +As he said “hair,” Lillie Bell rose, and in ready imitation of the +renowned Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm tragically intoned: + + “Robaire! Robaire! + Let down your hair!” + +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. + +“But this slim bit of a girl,” smiled the doctor, “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. + +“‘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.” + +The common little field flower seemed to have gained in interest after +the legend, and was examined with greater curiosity, while the Scribe +hurriedly wrote the legend on a stray page of her copy-pad to feature it +in the “Pioneer.” + +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. + +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?” + +“Oh, I am a poor hand at story-telling,” the girl speedily answered. + +“Hear! hear! this is treason!” called Helen loudly, “for a Pioneer who +has won fame as a Story Lady!” + +“Oh, that is different,” pleaded her friend in mild despair, “those were +only children’s stories.” + +“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.” + +“And then, Nathalie,” urged Grace, “every Pioneer has to know how to +tell stories, and this is a good time to make a beginning.” + +“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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“As he thus prayed and lamented a handsome young 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?’ + +“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.’ + +“‘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! + +“’Peboan, you are the winter manitou, and the Great Spirit calls you! +Now go!’ As Seguin said these words she gently waved her wand over the +old man’s head as it sank between his shoulders. + +“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. + +“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. + +“‘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. + +“Snowdrop!” called Helen quickly. Nathalie shook her head. + +“Violet!” timidly ventured some one. + +“Violet?” the Sport repeated scornfully. “Who ever heard of a pink +violet? Nathalie said this flower was pink.” + +Mrs. Morrow broke the sudden silence that followed the Sport’s remark by +saying softly, “I think it is the arbutus!” + +“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?” + +But before he could reply the Sport shouted, “Hurrah for the Story +Lady!” + +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!” + +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. + +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 the time and +place of the honeymoon, had all been answered by the names of flowers. + +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. + +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. + +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 the girls vied with one another +in trying to touch him without being seen. + +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. + +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. + +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, or happily sang +snatches of songs as they wended their way back to town. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The girls finally consented, and with many waves of the hands to the +pedestrians, and a loud honk, honk, the car glided down the road and out +of sight. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +Lulled by the mossy dell and the fragrance of the 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 where black columns of smoke were rushing upward. + +“Some one must be making a big bonfire,” answered Helen inertly, as her +eyes followed the direction of Edith’s finger. + +“Why, Helen, that is not a bonfire,” was the Sport’s quick retort. “Oh, +I saw a flame shoot up!” she added excitedly. + +“So did I!” exclaimed Nathalie, springing on her feet. “And oh, there’s +another.” + +“Why, the church is on fire!” shouted Edith. “There—don’t you see—the +flames are coming out of the back!” + +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. + +“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. + +Her companions made no reply, their eyes were glued on the columns of +smoke that hurtled in dense masses up into the air. + +“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.” + +“Oh, I know what we can do,” cried Edith heatedly. “We can run to the +fire-house and give the alarm!” + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +[Illustration: The rope had broken in her grasp.] + +“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. + +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! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV—OVERCOMES + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Up the ladder climbed Edith, high to the top, but 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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“You will fall!” exclaimed Nathalie in nervous fear. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“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 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. + +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?” + +“Oh, so we can,” rejoined Helen quickly. “I never thought! Come, you +help me!” catching Nathalie by the arm. + +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!” + +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. + +“Where’s the fire?” he panted. With heated face and eyes bulging +excitement he seized the rope from Nathalie’s hand, and the next minute, +with Helen’s help, had run the engine out into the road. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +endeavors to stop the rear men from pushing it down on their heels too +rapidly. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Spying Edith a few feet away, she hastily pushed 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. + +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!” + +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. + +“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. + +“They are going to form a bucket brigade!” shouted 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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!” + +Fred, realizing how she felt, looked down at her with a reassuring smile +as he answered, “Come, you 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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 was sure you were the first one burned to death. Why, +you ought to be ashamed of yourself, Nathalie Page!” she averred +indignantly. + +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?” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +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. + +“By the Lord Harry, is that you, Blue Robin?” 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. + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +“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 best entertainment, although her name is to be +kept secret until the end of the season, is to receive some kind of a +reward.” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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 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.” + +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. + +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. + +“Oh, Mother,” exclaimed the girl happily, “I’m awfully busy.” + +“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. + +“Yes,” replied Nathalie, “I have an awful lot to do.” And then she told +about the entertainment, and what she was planning. With a long drawn +sigh she cried, “Oh, Mumsie, I’m learning a terrible lot of useful +things.” + +“I see you are,” assented her mother, “and I am proud of you.” + +“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. + +“Yes, Daughter, every little thing Miss I Can has helped you to do has +been an overcome.” + +“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! + +“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 +mentioned her mother’s face lost its happy look and she became sad and +worried. + +“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.” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“Oh, Mother,” she moaned dolefully, as she kissed her mother good-night, +“Lucille has been dreadfully 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.” + +“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.” + +“Of course, no one ever had a disappointment but Lucille!” exclaimed +Nathalie irritably. + +“Nathalie!” reproved her mother, with a quick glance at the girl. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“What—the idea?” + +“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.” + +“Couldn’t you remember it?” questioned Helen concernedly. + +“No, I tried to, but I’ve been so busy it has just flown away.” + +“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.” + +“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. “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.” + +“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. + +“You haven’t come to see me this time,” she suggested archly. + +“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.” + +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. + +“Why, yes, I would like to go, only you see I am very busy just now, +helping Mother and doing Pioneer work, and—” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +An hour later Nathalie was greeted with a cry of delight from her new +friend, who clapped her hands and called, “Oh, Mother, she has come!” +Nathalie, imprisoned behind the muffler, rejoiced at heart to think she +had won another overcome. + +“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. + +“I am very glad,” replied Nathalie simply, as Mrs. Van Vorst led her to +a seat by the couch. + +“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! + + + + +CHAPTER XV—A CHAPTER OF SURPRISES + + +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! + +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. + +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?” + +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 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!” + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“I’m sixteen,” answered Nathalie readily, glad to turn the conversation +from the blinders, for she saw that Mrs. Van Vorst was greatly +perturbed. + +“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!” + +“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!” + +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! + +“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. + +“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. + +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 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?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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!” + +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!” + +Something within Nathalie burst its bounds, she could not sit there +another minute and hear the girl talk 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. + +“How do you know she is good?” retorted Nita, after a short pause of +surprise at this merited rebuke. + +“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.” + +“Why?” persisted the voice. + +“Because it would hurt her so,—” Nathalie labored, she hated to +preach—“to think I could be so disrespectful to her, and ill-bred.” + +“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.” + +“Nita!” came in a pain-stricken voice, “don’t talk that way!” + +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.” + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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 +would be better? Oh, I am sure she would,” broke from the girl +impetuously, “and it would make her so happy!” + +“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?” + +“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! + +“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.” + +“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. + +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.” + +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 years I have suffered the tortures of hell, doing +penance.” + +“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!” + +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!” + +Before Nathalie could answer, Nita’s voice was heard shrilly crying, +“Mother, I want Nathalie!” + +“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. + +“Oh, I just dropped off, I always get so tired when I cry.” + +“But why do you cry then?” questioned practical Nathalie. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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 flower legends, can’t you tell them to me? I just love +flowers!” + +“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. + +“What are you going to do next?” inquired her listener as Nathalie’s +flower stories ended. + +“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—” + +“Camp Fund! what is that?” inquired the girl interestedly. + +“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.” + +“Where are you going to get the tents to sleep in?” + +“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, 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. + +“Have you got your idea yet?” inquired Nita eagerly. “Oh, I just bet +your idea will be the best one of all!” + +“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. + +“Well, after you have the Stunts, what are you going to have?” demanded +Nita eagerly. + +“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 days of the +nation, when all the people were pioneers, or the children of pioneers?” + +“When are you going to have the flag drill? Oh, how I should like to see +it!” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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. + +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.” + +“You tell _her_ 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!” + +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. + +“And you are going to use the money you make for your Camping Fund?” +inquired Nita’s mother as Nathalie finished. + +Nathalie nodded, “That is, if we can get the right place to hold it—oh—” +she flushed again and then grew suddenly silent. + +“Did not one of the Pioneers ask me if I would let them have my lawn in +the rear of the house?” + +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!” + +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? + +“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!” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Oh, that will be the delightfulest thing!” The girl’s face radiated +sunshine. “It seems just too lovely to be true!” + +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. + +“I wanted to speak to you on a little matter of business,” the lady +explained somewhat hesitatingly. Nathalie, 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. + +“I have been thinking it over, Miss Page—” + +“O dear,” thought poor Nathalie, “she is going to change her mind about +the drill!” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +She stopped, for there was something in the girl’s wide opened eyes that +made her hesitate. + +“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 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.” + +“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!” + +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. + +“Well now, I call that luck,” declared the doctor, “and of course you +said you would accept Mrs. Van Vorst’s offer?” + +“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.” + +“And why not?” queried Dr. Morrow with some surprise. “Isn’t money as +much to you as to other people?” + +“Oh, yes,” laughed honest Nathalie; “of course I would like the money, I +am just dying to earn money 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. + +“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. + +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. + +“Why, Nathalie,” she mused, pleasantly, “you can 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!” + +“Now, Mumsie,” laughed the girl with a trill of glee in her voice, +“remember about counting your chicks before they’re hatched!” + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +“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!” + + + + +CHAPTER XVI—PIONEER STUNTS + + +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: + + “To Nathalie, my faithful little nurse and helper. + “Lucille.” + +“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. + +In a short space she came speeding back, crying, “Oh, Mother, where is +Lucille? I must go and thank her this very minute!” + +“Up in her room, I think,” spoke up Dick, but Nathalie was already +half-way up the stairs. + +“Lucille, it was just too lovely of you to think of 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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +“That is for Nita to decide,” was the careless rejoinder. “I have asked +you here to please my daughter, and if she wants you here just to talk, +why, talk away.” + +“But I feel as if I ought to instruct her in some way,” demurred +Nathalie. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“Yes, do,” acquiesced Nita, readily falling into the trap. “I want to +know just everything about it.” + +“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 +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. + +“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. + +“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!’ + +“Just at this moment music is heard, and the Daughters of Liberty +enter—” + +“The Daughters of Liberty—who are they?” + +“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—” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.’” + +“Oh, now I know, but do hurry and tell me what they did to the Goddess +of Liberty!” + +“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.” + +“What kind of banners?” burst from Nathalie’s auditor impatiently. + +“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 _Mayflower_. 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. + +“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, don’t ask +me why, for you will know when you hear the girls sing the ‘Liberty +Tree.’ + +“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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 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.” + +“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. + +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 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. + +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!” + +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?” + +“Five dollars!” repeated the girl disdainfully. “Oh, Mother, guess +again, it’s more than that,” she added encouragingly. + +“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.” + +“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!” + +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 hats, with here and +there a dress coat of masculine gender which gave quite an air of +festivity to the occasion. + +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. + +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. + +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, 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. + +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, + + “Twice a year depluméd may they be, + In spryngen tyme and harvest tyme,” + +she escaped from her captor’s clutch and with a loud, “Quack! quack!” of +disapproval flew across the stage. + +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 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. + +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. + +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 _Mayflower_ 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. + +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: + + “There did the Pilgrim fathers + With matchlock and ax well swung + Keep guard o’er the smoking kettles + That propped on the crotches hung. + For the earliest act of the heroes + Whose fame has a world-wide sway, + Was to fashion a crane for a kettle + And order a washing-day.” + + “Pioneer Mothers of America.” + By Hand W. Green. + +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! + +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! + +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. + +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. 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! + +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. + +Around the hearthstone in a Dutch kitchen sat a _huys-moeder_, busily +undressing her two little kinderkins while she sang the crooning nursery +rhyme:[1] + + “Trip attroup attronjes, + De vaarken in de boojes, + De koejes in de klaver, + De paarden in de haver, + De kalver in de lang gras, + De eenjes in de water plas, + So grootmyn klein poppetje was.” + “_Colonial Days in Old New York._” + Earle. + +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 _huys-moeder_ 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. + +The tiny figures in their _cosyntjes_, 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. + +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. + +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. + +“Oh, has anything gone wrong?” demanded Nathalie hastening to the door. + +“I should say!” exclaimed Helen with woebegone 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.” + +“Oh, I’m so sorry,” sympathized Nathalie, “tell me where to find it, +quick, and I’ll get some one.” + +“It is in the hall just behind the rack! Do hurry, Nat, I’m just about +wild!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +----- +[1] + “From your throne on my knee, + The pigs in the bean-patch see, + The cows in the clover meet, + The horses in the oat field eat. + The ducks in the water pass + The calves scamper through the grass. + They love the baby on my knee + And none there are as sweet as she.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVII—LIBERTY BANNERS + + +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! + +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. + +The girl gasped, dropped the gun, and then broke into hysterical +laughter as she cried, “Oh—is—that you?” + +“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. + +The reaction was so great that for a moment Nathalie feared she was +going to cry, but controlling herself 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. + +“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?” + +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!” + +“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.” + +“But how did you come to be here, may I ask?” queried Nathalie as they +turned to walk up. + +“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.” + +[Illustration: Up went two hands in pretended subjugation.] + +He suddenly pointed the gun and then pulled the trigger. + +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!” + +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!” + +“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.” + +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. + +The gun was quickly delivered to Helen and then they hurried into the +hall in time to see the portraits 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +“O dear, how should I know?” she demanded with seeming indignation. + +“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.” + +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 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. + +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.” + +“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—” + +But Helen had been carried off by one of the Scouts, and Nathalie turned +to find Fred at her side eagerly demanding her vote. + +“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.” + +“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 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. + +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. + +“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. + +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 _am angry_ with—some one,” she added +bitterly, her glance suddenly falling on Edith. “But there, return your +cards and then we will dance.” + +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 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 _had been_ mean +about it. + +“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—” + +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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +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 you suppose I really won it?” she demanded after a +pause. “I thought you said Edith’s Stunt was the winner.” + +“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—” + +“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! + +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 how it had come about +that although the idea was Nathalie’s, Edith had won the glory of it +without the work. + +“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—” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + + * * * * * + +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 a scarlet sash, and a red liberty +cap, and holding in her hand a flag or small banner. + +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. + +“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!” + +“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 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.” + +“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 _Mayflower_. + +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.” + +Grace, who had been impatiently waiting to float 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.’” + +“But it has the red cross on the white canton just the same,” ventured +Jessie, “and it is red, too.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Oh, stop discussing the merits of that old pine and 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.” + +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.’” + +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 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.” + +“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!” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +“I will tell you why,” declared Nathalie, “because I have looked it up, +and—” + +“But you are not the only one who has looked up flags,” chimed Jessie, +“for my eyes were just about ruined trying to get a merit badge for +proficiency in flag history—” + +“And for deftness and skill in making our flags,” broke in a Pioneer +from the Bob White group. + +“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?” + +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.” + +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 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. + +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: + + “Hear! hear; hear Girl Pioneer! + For flag so dear give a cheer! + For the bars that are white and red, + And stars on blue overhead + We honor thee with a cheer! + Hurrah! Hurrah! Girl Pioneer!” + +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. + +Suddenly she halted, and with the dramatic gestures 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!’” + +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. + +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. + +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 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: + + “In a chariot of light from the regions of day + The Goddess of Liberty came; + Ten thousand celestials directed the way, + And hither conducted the dame. + A fair budding branch from the gardens above, + Where millions and millions agree + She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love, + And the plant she named Liberty Tree.” + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII—THE PRINCESS MAKES TWO MORE FRIENDS + + +“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. + +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!” + +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 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. + +“Oh, and there’s another daughter speaking to the Goddess. See, she +carries the flag that came over in the _Mayflower_ 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. + +“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 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.” + +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. + +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.” + +This song was followed by the “Battle Cry of 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. + +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!” + +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. + +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?” + +“Nita?” repeated that young lady, who had never heard the name before. +“Why, what do you mean?” + +Nathalie started. “Oh, why, to be sure, I forgot to tell you about her, +but Mrs. Morrow thought best to—” + +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. + +“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—” + +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!” + +Nathalie stared a moment as if not comprehending what Ellen had said, +and then, “Oh, Ellen, do you mean that Mrs. Van Vorst wants me to come +up to see Miss Nita and to—” + +“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!” + +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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“Adventure?” repeated Grace. “Oh, Nathalie, you have not told me about +it!” in an aggrieved tone. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“I don’t know,” hesitated Grace, “I!—” + +“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. + +“Grace says she is afraid to go,” explained Helen. + +“Afraid!” repeated Nathalie bewildered. “What are you afraid of?” she +demanded abruptly turning towards her friend. + +“Why Nathalie, don’t you remember that day we—” + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +“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!” + +“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!” + +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 part she had played with the princess, and the many other +happenings that had taken place within the last few weeks. + +“But is the poor thing such a terrible monster?” demanded Grace in ready +sympathy. + +“A monster?” ejaculated Nathalie in amazement. “Who said she was a +monster?” + +“Why, don’t you remember? Edith—” + +“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. + +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?” + +“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!” + +“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 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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“I am very glad to meet you, Mrs. Van Vorst,” broke in Helen, “for I +feel that we are very much indebted to you for allowing us to use your +lawn.” + +“Yes,” chimed Grace, as she shook the lady’s hand, “we all feel that you +have given us a lovely afternoon.” + +“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. + +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. + +“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. + +But Grace and Helen were not thinking of the “awful hump” as Nathalie +had defined it, but of the pale sweet face with the lovely violet eyes +that were shining like bright stars. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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 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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“A fagot party?” exclaimed Nita with interested eyes. “Oh, do tell all +about it; it sounds, well it sounds fagoty. What do you do?” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +“Does she have to stop on the very second?” questioned Nita. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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.” + +“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. + +“I think it would be dandy,” answered Grace. “What do you girls think?” +turning towards them as she spoke. + +“Why, I think it would be fine,” added Helen, “and—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +Nita broke into merry laughter at the look of dismay on her friend’s +face. “Of course I’m walking, the doctor says I can, so there!” There +was a triumphant toss of her head at Nathalie. + +“But you have never walked, that is not much since I have known you!” +cried the puzzled girl. + +“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!” + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“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 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—” + +“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?” + +Nathalie hesitated; her face flushed, “Oh—why, she thought you were a +dear, but said you were a bit spoiled.” + +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. + +“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. + +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 the news, for your face shows that you are just dying to tell me +something worth the hearing.” + +“Well, yes, I have _some_ 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.” + +“Self-government?” queried mystified Nita, “why, the Pioneers are not +citizens or criminals; you don’t have to be governed!” + +“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 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. + +“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. + +“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 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.” + +“Yes, but I don’t understand how it interests you girls.” + +“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. + +“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 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.” + +“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—” + +“No, she didn’t,” laughed Nathalie with an odd little gleam in her eye, +“for she was tried before the Senate Saturday.” + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“Do tell me what they did to her!” Nita bent forward in curious +excitement as she spoke. + +“Poor thing! she had all her stars and badges of 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. + +“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.’” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX—THE FAGOT PARTY + + +“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. + +“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.’” + +“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.” + +“Perhaps Nathalie will come up later,” suggested her mother, “and tell +you some of the thrillers. Is that what she calls them?” + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +As Mrs. Van Vorst arose to leave the room Nita demurred, “Oh, Mother, I +don’t want to be left here alone.” + +“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. + +Indeed it was not long before the faithful nurse, 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. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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 a long breath as if to gather her forces for the +coming ordeal. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +“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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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 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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“Determined to win the girl, the young farmer with his revolver and a +few tapers secreted himself in the 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. + +“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. + +“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—” + +“Oh, Lillie, hurry!” screamed the Sport. “Your logs will fall in a +minute!” + +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 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!” + +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! + +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. + +Jessie, who always disliked Lillie’s tragic tales, with a half laugh +sprang to her feet crying, “Well, if she 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! + +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! + +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! + +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. + +[Illustration: With an unearthly shriek was flying across the lawn.] + +“Oh, Nita!” burst from the girl, “how did you come here?“ Before the +white figure could answer, Ellen was seen running swiftly towards them. + +“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!” + +“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!” + +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!” + +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?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“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 if they were. Nathalie, how +was it you did not run with the others?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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: + + “Hear! hear! a brave Pioneer! + Three cheers for Nathalie dear!” + +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: + + “We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + We will be brave, and kind and true; + We’re Pioneers, Girl Pioneers! + Hear! Hear! Hear! + Girl Pioneer! + Come, give a cheer! + Girl Pi-o-neer!!!” + +One bright morning two weeks after the fagot party, Helen with wondering +surprise mingled with pleasure read the following: + + “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 _Kraeg_, 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.” + +“A _Kraeg_—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. + +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. + +“I knew you would be wanting to know what that meant.” Nathalie smiled +happily at her friend as she pointed to the envelope. + +“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 _Kraeg_ is?” + +“It means a Dutch house-warming! But there, I am not going to tell you +any more, wait until the sixth.” + +“‘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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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! + +“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 deference to the Dutch +women’s shrewdness, judgment, and independence, so that they exerted no +little influence in the state affairs of New Amsterdam.” + +“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?” + +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 _Kraeg_.” + +“How will the girls know what characters they are to take, what they +did, and so on?” + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XX—THE DUTCH KRAEG + + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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 _Endracht_ +with her husband and three children from Holland. After the death of her +husband, who left her a _bouwerie_ (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. + +Annetje came a few steps forward, and then bobbed 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. + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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; _Kloch-Hoeck_ was the site +of the first village, as it was all covered with bits of clam and oyster +shells, the word means Shell Point. _De claver Waytie_ 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 +_Maadje-Paatje_, Maiden Lane. _Der Halle_ 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 _der groot_ tree. + +“Here is _Cowfoot Hill_, the old cow-path up the hill, _Canoe Place_, +where the Indians used to tie their canoes, and _Catiemuts_ is the hill +where the Indians had built their castle. _Collect_ means a dear little +lake near-by, yes, and here’s the Boston Highway, here’s the +_Stadt-Huys_, the town hall. _Graft_ was a ditch crossed by a bridge; +_De Smits Vlye_ was an old blacksmith shop near the ferry to Long +Island. _Vlacke_ was the grazing ground for the cows, now the City Hall +Park. _De Schaape Waytie_ was the sheep pasture—” + +“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. + +“How do you do, _Mutter_. 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 _mutter_ 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. + +Annetje now led the new arrival to the line waiting to welcome her. +“Allow me to present to you Catalina de Trice, the _mutter_ of New York, +having been the first woman to land on that famous little isle.” + +“Yes,” added the _mutter_ with a stiff little bow to the grand Dutch +dames receiving her with stately courtesy, “I came over in the first +ship, the _Unity_, 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.” + +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, “_Half-Moon_.” 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. + +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 now invited to pull one of +a number of gay-colored streamers that flew with the windmill as it +buzzed rapidly around. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She told, too, how she had signed a petition and presented 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 _sewant_; these two shells at that time +constituting the currency of the colony. + +But the Indian’s friend had gone and in her place stood a _grande dame_, +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 _dorp_ 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 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.” + +“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. + +“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 _dorp_, and was regarded with much curiosity by the burghers.” + +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 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.” + +“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.” + +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 _Flattenbarack Hill_, +or skating on the _Collect_ with a party of 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 _Strookes_. + +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 _pinter_ flower was in bloom, pretty Polly married +Mr. James Alexander, one of the most distinguished gentlemen of the +times. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +_kos_ (chest) with beautiful linen tied in packages 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 strings of hair that straggled from beneath a derby hat, +several sizes too small for the head. + +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!” + +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!” + +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.” + +“Oh, girls,” cried Nathalie quickly, “the joke is on me, for I had +forgotten, as Edith says, all about these Indian squaws.” + +“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 her neck and her +brown bedaubed arms. “But Edith,” she continued, “can’t you tell us +something about these squaws?” + +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. + +“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 _Capsey_, 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.” + +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. + +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. + +Mahogany tables, queer little sideboards, and curiously carved chairs +next claimed their attention, while the _slaap-bauck_, 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. + +A flowered tabby cloth, a foot-warmer, and an old chest called a _kos_, +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 _kasten_—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. + +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, 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. + +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 _kinder_ were christened. From the hot, +spicy odor that emanated from this relic of Dutch festivity the girls +knew it held something good. + +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. + +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. + +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 with a twisted cow’s horn hanging from his +shoulder. + +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. + +The goodies were jellies, custards, _oly krecks_—sometimes called +doughnuts because of the tiny nut in the center—krullers, +_izer-cookies_, 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 _goede vrouven_ who helped their _goede_ men to lay the +first stones of the great city of New York. + +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! + +Immediately glasses were touched to the lady so honored, who in return +proposed a like honor for 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. + +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. + +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! + + + + +CHAPTER XXI—AN INVITATION + + +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. + +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!” + +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 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? + +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.” + +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. + +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 a shrill falsetto voice shrieked, “Pretty Polly! Pretty +Polly! Polly want a cobble?” + +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. + +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?” + +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! Ah—Blue Robin, pretty Blue Robin!” And then a shrill Tru-al-lee, +tru-al-lee! rang through the room. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 again, while Mrs. Van Vorst and Nita with +smiling eyes watched the little by-play that was being enacted. + +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—” + +“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. + +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!” + +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. + +“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 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.” + +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—” + + “Girl Pi-o-neers! Now give a cheer! + For our hostess so kind and dear! + Girl Pi-o-neers! again we cheer, + This time for Miss Nita, the dear!” + +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 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. + +The girls, laughing and talking about the pleasure of the _Kraeg_, 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. + +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. + +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 in waltz, schottische, polka, and in many of the +long-forgotten dances. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +Four weeks later Nathalie stood on the veranda with her arms around her +mother. “Oh, Mumsie,” she 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.” + +“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. + +“Mumsie, you’re a dear—” rejoined Nathalie with another suppressed +sniffle. “You’re just trying to make the best of it, but—” + +“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—” + +“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. + +Did they really want to get rid of her? Was Mamma in earnest? How much +more cheerful she 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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!” + +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. + +It was a delightful ride to the lake, and thoroughly 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. + +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. + +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 the little wooden shack, which +they dubbed the Grub House, as it was here that the camp cooking was to +be done. + +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. + +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. + +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? + +But there were other things to claim a share of their hearts’ joy they +found, as Carol, who made the seventeenth 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. + +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. + +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 on the rear lawn, with Fred Tyson doing duty as a +master tent-maker. + +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. + +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. + +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. +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII—CAMP LAFF-A-LOT + + +“O fiddle!” exclaimed Lillie squelchingly. “You have got scouts on the +brain! Where would a scout come from up here in these wilds?” + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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?” + +“Some one is mocking us!” added another listener. + +“Oh, nonsense,” laughed Helen, whose ear for music was not keen, “that’s +an echo!” + +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. + +“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. + +“Well, they can’t be scouts,” said an Oriole, “or they would answer in +some way.” + +“Let’s sing, ‘We’re Pioneers,’ and then they’ll know who we are, +anyway,” some one proposed, a little more cheerily. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +“Well, they’re not Westport Scouts, that’s one sure thing,” voiced one +of the girls who had been dreaming. + +“What difference does that make,” cried Lillie, “as 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. + +“Oh, it is a song to us, a serenade!” ejaculated one of the girls; and +then as each one grew silent they heard: + + “Welcome! Welcome! sisters dear, + As we round our fire’s cheer + We wish you luck in camp so fine + Sweet with birch and wooded pine. + Pleasure and joy attend each day, + As by the Lake you make your stay!” + +“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: + + “Ragglety! Pagglety! Rah! Rah! Rah! + You’re welcome scouts with a Ha! Ha! Ha! + Comrades and friends, we’ll make the woods hum + When you to Camp Laff-a-Lot come. + For your wishes we’ll give you three cheers, + Hurrah for Scouts and Girl Pioneers!” + +“Why, Nathalie, you changed the words!” cried one or two slow ones as +they perceived that the girl had substituted certain words that were +more appropriate to the occasion than the ones they had learned. + +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. + +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: + + “Good-night, campers, + Good-night campers, + Good-night campers, + We’re going to leave you now! + Merrily we roll along, roll along, roll along; + Merrily we roll along, o’er the dark blue sea.” + +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. + +“Oh, I have had such a delicious sleep,” she cried. “I don’t believe I +wakened from the time I touched the 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—” + +“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. + +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. + +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! + +“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!” + +Out from her dip, with the wish that it could have been longer, she +hurried to her tent; after a rub came the dressing, the picking up of +her clothes, the putting her bed to air, and then the call for +breakfast. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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 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. + +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!” + +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’!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The boats were quickly honored with the names _Priscilla_, _Mary +Chilton_, _Annetje Jans_, and _Polly Prevoorst_, 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Nathalie, who had spent a number of summers at a 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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!” + +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 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! + +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!” + +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!” + +“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.” + +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 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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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 as to what it +was a chorus of boyish voices were heard shouting: + + “Ready! Ready! Scout! Scout! Scout! + Good turn daily. Shout! Shout! Shout!” + +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. + +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. + +Yes, the scouts of Westport, who had been thinking 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. + +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. + +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?” + +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. + +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, “As for Miss Nita, if she wants to come with us we’ll fix it so +she won’t have to walk a step!” + +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!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +This, Nita was very glad to do, and so with notebooks and pencils, and +with the remark that they could have a nice little salmagundi hike all +by their lone selves, they started for the boat-house. + +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.” + +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. + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII—MISS CAMPHELIA + + +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. + +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. + +Hammers, saws, and hatchets were in great demand one morning—the girls +all busy making stilts, some 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. + +“No milk?” ejaculated the girl. “Why, wasn’t the milkman here this +morning?” + +“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.” + +Nathalie’s face expressed dismay. “Oh, what shall we do?” she almost +wailed; “we have got to have milk for that pudding, and—” + +“To be sure,” laconically returned Lillie, “and you will have to go and +get some.” + +“Get some?” echoed Nathalie faintly; “where?” + +“At the farm-house, you know the place—with the red barn—on the road to +Boonton.” + +“But there isn’t time for me to walk there and back before dinner,” +protested the girl somewhat wrathfully, “on this hot day, too!” + +“No, but you can take Edith’s bicycle, and go and get back in no time.” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“Poor waif!” exclaimed the farmer’s wife, “it is hungry!” Hastily +getting a cup of milk she put it to the mouth of the little one, whose +fingers closed on it tightly as it drank greedily. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +As the girl, between bites, told of her strange adventure, 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +This of course took away the girls’ hopes of having the little one for +their own, as who could deny Mrs. 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. + + * * * * * + +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! + +“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!” + +Nathalie made no reply, assured that if she did she would betray what a +baby she was. + +“What does ail you anyway?” persisted Helen in a softer tone. “Have you +been doing the green-apple act like Carol, and—” + +“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!” + +“How do you know?” questioned Helen, “she—” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Humph!” came from Helen, “she gets enough of it from her mother and +Ellen; they spoil her.” + +“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.” + +There was silence for a moment as both girls fell to thinking. All at +once Helen bounced up in bed crying, “There, Nathalie, I have nailed +it!” + +“Nailed it?” repeated her companion. “Why—” + +“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—” + +“Where, on the floor?” inquired Nathalie teasingly. + +“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.” + +“Oh, Helen, you are the brightest—but suppose she won’t come?” + +“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.” + +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 +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! + +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. + +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. + +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! + +Nathalie strained her eyes, why, yes, she _was_ 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? + +“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. + +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! + +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!” + +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— + +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. + +“As snug as a bug in a rug,” rejoined the doctor promptly, “and you will +be, too, if you will drink this.” + +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 that queer little smile, “I have got +one on her, haven’t I?” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Perhaps the best was the scouts on the water, when, with a flotilla of +row-boats and canoes decorated with 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. + +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!” + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +Nathalie touched Mrs. Van Vorst softly on the arm, “Is there anything we +girls can do?” Her eyes were big with anxious fear. + +“Oh, I don’t know,” replied that lady distractedly; “if the doctor were +only here!” + +“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!” + +But Nathalie was already out of the sound of her voice, as with quick, +light steps she ran to the girls 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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +But the doctor had done more than this, for he had gathered the four +older girls, Helen, Edith, Lillie, and 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. + +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. + +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 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. + +“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?” + +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!” + +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—” + +“I know what we can do,” said Lillie suddenly; “we can row across the +Lake to the camp!” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV—THE WIRELESS OPERATOR + + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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!” + +“What, Edith, do you want us to think that you are really afraid?” +laughed Lillie; “_you_, the girl who has never shown the white feather +at any dare? Why, I—” + +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 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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 lantern glimmered dimly +through the foliage of the trees. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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! + +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. + +“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: + + “Have gone to the Scout Council at the rooms of + the Wolf Patrol at Boonton. + “G. A. Homer, Scoutmaster.” + +“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. + +“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, +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!” + +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. + +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. + +“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 the soft silver haze that guided them across the Lake to Camp +Laff-a-Lot. + +“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.” + +“Well, it ought to be, with two doctors on the job,” retorted Helen with +her usual bluntness. “Isn’t that old Dr. McGill jolly?” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“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 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!” + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 barrel-hoop with +a bell hung in its center without touching the bell were the jubilant +ones. + +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. + +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. + +Every one now gathered around the dining-room table—appropriately +decorated for the occasion—and was soon dulling appetite with the choice +bits found in the packages that had been done up by the Pioneers but +hidden by Mrs. Morrow and Mrs. Van Vorst. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 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. + +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. + +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. + +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 Dummy, who represented the +evil spirits that had run riot during their stay at camp. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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!” + +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. + +[Illustration: She dropped the ashes of Miss Dummy into the placid +water.] + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV—GOOD-BY TO EAGLE LAKE + + +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. + +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 which started the +girls and boys dancing around the fire again, this time with the +graceful swing and motions of the modern dances. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +“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?” + +Nathalie, somewhat alarmed by all this appearance of excitement, cried +quickly, “Oh, what is it, Carol? What is it?” + +“Oh, Nathalie,” the girl screamed, “the baby’s mother has come!” + +“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. + +By this time the party of country folk, breathless and somewhat moist +from undue haste, with expectancy 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. + +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!” + +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. + +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 Camphelia was ill, the baby would +never have been found. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +The sadness of parting with the friends they had 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. + +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. + +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 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? + +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. + +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. + +She realized, but dimly, perhaps, that she had gotten 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. + +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.” + +“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. + +“Oh, that will be all right,” nodded her friend 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.” + +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. + +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!” + +“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. + +“Oh, yes, later; only one at a time at present,” was the quick reply. + +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. + +Nathalie took a step forward, stared a minute with 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! + +“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!” + +“But what are you doing here?” inquired the still dazed girl slowly—“are +you the lady?” + +“Lady!” echoed Dick. “I, a lady? Not on your life! What have you got +into your head now?” he quizzed teasingly. + +“But Mrs. Van Vorst said I was to meet a lady—” + +“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. + +“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. + +“Dick,” she gasped, “you’ve had the operation, and you’re all right?” +This last was in a tense whisper. + +“You bet I am,” returned Dick cheerily, “and in good shape, too. The +doctor says I can go home in a week.” + +“But where did you get the money?” asked the girl, her eyes big with +wonder. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +“Oh, was that the letter that came just before I went away, that you +wouldn’t tell me about?” + +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.” + +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!” + +“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?” + +“You did?” ejaculated the girl. “Oh, I’m so glad! I always said you +could write funny things. 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? + +But the question faded from her mind as with a cry of delight she sprang +into the outstretched arms of her mother. + +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. + +“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?” + +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.” + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + + THE END + + + + +American Heroes and Heroines + +By Pauline Carrington Bouvé + +Illustrated 12mo Cloth $1.25 _net_ + +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. + + “The style of the book for simplicity and clearness of expression + could hardly be excelled.”—_Boston Budget._ + +The Scarlet Patch + +The Story of a Patriot Boy in the Mohawk Valley + +By Mary E. Q. Brush Illustrated $1.25 _net_ + +“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. + + “A book that will be most valuable to the library of the young + boy.”—_Providence News._ + +Stories of Brave Old Times + +Some Pen Pictures of Scenes Which Took Place Previous to, or Connected +With, the American Revolution + +By Helen M. Cleveland + +Profusely illustrated + +Large 12mo Cloth $1.25 _net_ + + “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. + + “It can unqualifiedly be commended as a book for youthful readers; + its great wealth of illustrations adding to its value.”—_Chicago + News._ + +For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the +publishers, + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON + + + + +A Little Maid of Boston Town + +By MARGARET SIDNEY + +12mo Cloth + +Illustrated by F. T. MERRILL $1.35 _net_ + +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. + +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. + + It is an inspiring, patriotic story for the young, and contains + striking and realistic pictures of the times with which it + deals.—_Sunday School Magazine, Nashville._ + + 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.—_Boston Globe._ + + 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.—_Utica Observer._ + + A really thrilling tale of the American Revolution. Interesting for + both old and young.—_Minneapolis Journal._ + +_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the +publishers_ + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., Boston + + + + +JEAN CABOT SERIES + +By GERTRUDE FISHER SCOTT + +Illustrated by Arthur O. Scott 12mo Cloth + +Price, Net, $1.25 each + +Jean Cabot at Ashton + +Here is the “real thing” in a girl’s college story. 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Their trip is full of the delight that comes to the traveler +first seeing the countries forming “our old home.” + +Jean Cabot in Cap and Gown + +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. + +Jean Cabot at the House With the Blue Shutters + +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. + +For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the +publishers + + + + +BRAVE HEART SERIES + +By Adele E. Thompson + +Illustrated 12mo Cloth _Net_ $1.25 each + +Betty Seldon, Patriot + +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. + +Brave Heart Elizabeth + +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. + +A Lassie of the Isles + +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.” + +Polly of the Pines + +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. + +American Patty + +A Story of 1812 + +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. + +_For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price to +the publishers_ + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON + + + + +HEROES OF HISTORY SERIES + +A newly grouped collection of standard favorites—the kind that never +grow old. 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BORDER BOY; Life of Daniel Boone. + +By HENRY C. WATSON + + 11. FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY; Life of Washington. + 12. FRIEND OF WASHINGTON; Life of Lafayette. + 13. GREAT PEACEMAKER; Life of William Penn. + 14. POOR RICHARD’S STORY; Life of Franklin. + +By JOHN FROST + + 15. GREAT EXPOUNDER; Life of Daniel Webster + 16. LITTLE CORPORAL; Life of Napoleon. + 17. OLD HICKORY; Life of Andrew Jackson. + 18. OLD ROUGH AND READY; Life of Gen. Zachary Taylor. + 19. MILL BOY OF THE SLASHES; Life of Henry Clay. + 20. SWAMP FOX; Life of Gen. Francis Marion. + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON + + + + +Four Gordons + +By EDNA A. BROWN + +Illustrated Large 12mo Decorated Cover $1.35 _net_ + +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. + +“The story and its telling are worthy of Miss Alcott. Young folks of +both sexes will enjoy it.”—_N.Y. Sun_. + +“It is a hearty, wholesome story of youthful life in which the morals +are never explained but simply illustrated by logical +results.”—_Christian Register_. + + +Uncle David’s Boys + +By EDNA A. BROWN + +Illustrated by John Goss 12mo Cloth + +Price $1.35 _net_ + +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. + +“A story which will hold the attention of youthful readers from cover to +cover and prove not without its interest for older readers.”—_Evening +Wisconsin_. + +“For those young people who like a lively story with some unmistakably +old fashioned characteristics, ‘Uncle David’s Boys,’ will have a strong +appeal.”—_Churchman_. + +_For sale by all booksellers or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the +publishers_ + +LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO., BOSTON + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer, by Rena I. 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