[
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1938, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\n_Cottage on the Curve_\n  MARY LAMERS\n  _Sketches by\n  the Author_\n  [Illustration]\n  The Bruce Publishing Company\n  Milwaukee\n  (Second Printing--1947)\n  Copyright, 1945\n  By Mary Lamers\n  Printed in the U. S. A.\n  To the memory\n  of my mother\n  BESSIE MURRAY McGUIRE\n_Foreword_\nThis story was written in time of war, in the memory of peace.\nOnce upon a time there were happy times like these. There were trips\nand steaks and tennis balls, and even double-decker ice-cream cones.\nBut the children who played on the shores of Oak Lake have sailed away.\nIn jungle heat they remember her cool depths. In the hot blare of\nbattle they remember the quiet just as the moon rose over the tamarack\nswamp.\nCome back, long-legged little boys! Come back to the summer days we\nused to know.\nSummer, 1945.\n_Contents_\n  CHAPTER\n   3. The Purse in the Trash Pile           38\n   4. The Turtle Who Towed the Boat         51\n   5. Grandma Always Brought Presents       63\n   8. The Fourth Was Full of Fun           104\n   9. Billy Battles the Storm              116\n  11. The Front Seat on the Bus            150\n  12. The Bear Who Loved Apple Pie         168\n_Chapter One_\n_The Last Day of School_\n[Illustration]\nJane Murray walked slowly down the wide corridor. It was the last day\nof school. Her desk was empty. For the first time since last September\nher locker stood neat and bare. Gone were the old gym socks, the\nforgotten rainhat that had been wedged under an old theme cover, the\ncandy bar wrappers, and the umbrella with the split seam.\nPatsy and Dor had reached the street ahead of her and were screaming at\nthe top of their lungs.\n\u201cJanie, oh, Janie! Hurry! We\u2019re going to have an ice-cream cone.\u201d\nJanie shook her head regretfully. \u201cRun along with the others, my funny\nfriends. I must go home and put a fresh dressing on Butchie\u2019s paw.\u201d\nThey were off like race horses. \u201cPerhaps I should have gone,\u201d she\nthought. The back of her neck was just a little damp under the light\nbrown curly mop. A cone or a swim. Oh boy! I could do with a swim right\nnow, and with her head full of summer dreams she started off down the\nmaple-shaded street.\nSpringhill was a lovely old town in southern Wisconsin. The houses were\nset well back from the street. They were large and old-fashioned, with\nscreened porches. Some of them had turrets running up to the third\nfloor level. Janie had read of a famous architect who disapproved of\nsuch decorations. \u201cInverted rutabagas,\u201d he called them, but Janie\ndidn\u2019t care. The turret on the Murray house was enchanted land. From\nits circular windows they could see all over town, and down the valley\nto the river. Once they found a gray squirrel\u2019s nest up there, and on\nrainy days there was the parallel bar for doing stunts.\n\u201cInverted rutabaga, my eye,\u201d said Janie.\n\u201cWhat\u2019s a rutabaga, Janie,\u201d said a small voice at her elbow. She jumped.\n\u201cOh, Robin, it\u2019s you. I must have been talking to myself. It\u2019s old age\ncreeping on.\u201d\n\u201cHow old are you, Janie,\u201d the small voice persisted.\n\u201cI\u2019m thirteen.\u201d She picked up the afternoon paper with one hand,\nruffled Robin\u2019s hair with the other, and ran up her own front steps.\n\u201cMom, oh Mom,\u201d she called as the screen door slammed behind her.\n\u201cSchool\u2019s out, and I\u2019m not even happy about it. Oh Mom, may I make some\nlemonade?\u201d\nMrs. Murray called from upstairs, \u201cYes dear, make some for the boys\nwhile you\u2019re at it, and don\u2019t spill any sugar on the floor.\u201d\nThe sugar, lemons, and ice cubes were assembled, but before Jane could\nfinish there was an excited chirping, hopping, and rattling on the back\nporch.\n\u201cOh Butch, you darling monkey! I almost forgot to fix that bandage.\u201d\nShe gathered the little furry fellow up in her arms. He was the adored\npet of the youngest of Jane\u2019s brothers, Davey.\nJanie could never forget that windy fall night two years ago when\nthey first saw Butch. Daddy had been working on the case of an organ\ngrinder who became involved in difficulties with the immigration\nauthorities. All pleas failed and Mr. Calento made plans to return to\nhis native Italy, but he couldn\u2019t take his monkey with him. Monkeys\ncatch pneumonia easily, and an Atlantic voyage in the stormy month of\nOctober would have been dangerous to his health. With tears in his eyes\nMr. Calento presented his pet to Daddy as part payment of his fee.\nWhat an uproar that was! Of course the children were enchanted, but Mom\nwas aghast.\n\u201cA monkey,\u201d she cried. \u201cMy goodness, Jim Murray, are you a lawyer or a\nzoo-keeper? Supposing your next client owns an elephant?\u201d\nDaddy laughed and patted her shoulder. \u201cDon\u2019t worry dear,\u201d he said. \u201cIf\nyou don\u2019t want him we\u2019ll take him down to the zoo in the morning.\u201d\n\u201cThe zoo?\u201d wailed Davey. \u201cPlease don\u2019t take him to the zoo.\u201d\nMom was firm. \u201cHis place is in the zoo,\u201d she said.\nHe would have been banished the very next day except that a quarantine\nhad been placed on the zoo because of the illness of some of the larger\nanimals, and no new animals were being admitted. One day led to the\nnext and Butchie stayed on. Mom had to take care of him during the day\nwhen the children were at school, and she grew to love him so that by\nthe time the quarantine was lifted the Murrays had a monkey, and that\nwas that.\nJane sat him on the porch sewing table, and ran in to heat the boric\nsolution. He waited patiently, and extended his little paw in perfect\ntrust. \u201cOh, what a good monkey you can be,\u201d murmured Janie as she\nfastened the fresh bandage. \u201cYou could save yourself a lot of trouble,\nButch, by keeping your paws off the screen door when the Murrays come\nthundering home.\u201d\n\u201cEeek Eeek,\u201d chattered Butch, and his little nurse replied gravely,\n\u201cYou\u2019re welcome.\u201d\nMom came down the stairway just as Janie finished.\n\u201cWhere\u2019s all the lemonade I\u2019ve been hearing about?\u201d she asked.\n\u201cIn a minute, Mom. I\u2019ve been fixing Butchie\u2019s paw.\u201d\nThey sat at the kitchen table and took a long drink of the delicious\ncold lemonade before either spoke.\n\u201cWhat\u2019s this about your not being happy, my child,\u201d said Mom with a\nteasing glint in her eye.\nJanie put her glass down, and rested her cheek on one hand. \u201cMom,\u201d\nshe replied, \u201cI know you\u2019re right about us staying home with Daddy\nthis summer. I know he has a big case coming up in court, and that if\nyou wouldn\u2019t be here to take care of him he\u2019d stay up half the night\nworking. He wouldn\u2019t eat the way he\u2019s supposed to, and everything would\ngo wrong. I know all these things, but on a warm day like this I just\ncan\u2019t help wishing we could go to the lake like we always used to.\u201d\n\u201cAnd what would you say, daughter,\u201d said Mom in the same teasing tone\nof voice. \u201cWhat would you say if I told you that we could go to the\nlake this summer just as we always used to?\u201d\nJane\u2019s eyes grew wide, \u201cOh Mom, tell me when. Can Daddy come too? Tell\nme Mom. Oh, Mom, how wonderful!\u201d\nMrs. Murray took a deep breath and laughingly pushed her delighted\ndaughter away. \u201cWhat muscles,\u201d she said.\n\u201cMom, if you\u2019re not serious, I\u2019ll just die! I would so love to go to\nthe lake. I\u2019ve been thinking about it all afternoon. Blue skies, clear\nwater, little robins singing.\u201d In her happiness Jane waltzed around the\nkitchen, and Butch clapped his hands together happily from the back\nporch.\nMrs. Murray laughed and rose to rinse out her lemonade glass. \u201cI can\u2019t\ntell you any more about it now,\u201d she continued, \u201cbut when your father\ncomes home and the boys are all gathered together, we\u2019ll get the story.\u201d\nJanie knew her mother well enough to press her no further. Mom was\nfunny. She had her moods. Sometimes, in the morning when they were all\ngetting ready for school, she would whirl in and out among them dancing\nto the ballet music of Daddy\u2019s early morning radio program. In her\nyellow sweater and faded blue denim skirt, with her hair done in short\npig-tails, she was very gay, a real pal. But there was nothing gay\nabout the look in her eye if she\u2019d spy a C on your report card.\nIn the morning when Dad shaved he would sing at the top of his lungs\nwhile he chopped away at his whiskers, and any one who came near him\nwas playfully anointed with his well-lathered brush. Daddy could be\ngay too but all this spring he had been distracted and busy. He often\nworked late at the office, and then he\u2019d bring papers home and his\nlight would burn far into the night.\nJanie remembered the night she couldn\u2019t sleep and went down to the\nkitchen for a glass of milk. There was a light in the library, and\nDaddy sat with papers strewn all over, his hair rumpled, and lines on\nhis forehead making Venetian blinds of worry.\n\u201cDaddy! It\u2019s almost one o\u2019clock!\u201d\nHe looked up in surprise. \u201cOh, hello there, puss. Why aren\u2019t you\nasleep?\u201d\n\u201cI came down for a glass of milk. I stubbed my toe playing soft ball in\nthe gym, and it was hurting me a little. I woke up, and then I couldn\u2019t\ngo back to sleep.\u201d\n\u201cWhat were you intending to do with the glass of milk, drink it, or\nbathe your injured toe?\u201d\n\u201cDaddy! What a silly thing to say! Drink it, of course. Shall I pour\nsome for you?\u201d\n\u201cYes, by all means, but don\u2019t make any noise. If your mother hears us\nwe\u2019ll both be spanked for staying up past our bedtime.\u201d\nJanie brought two glasses of milk and sat down opposite her father at\nthe desk. \u201cDaddy, I wish you wouldn\u2019t work so hard. Mom worries about\nyou, too. Couldn\u2019t you let that old case go if it\u2019s such a bother?\u201d\n\u201cPerhaps I could if I had no one depending on me, but I have a wife\nand a dear family, and the man that this case concerns has a wife and\nfamily that he loves just as much as I love mine. It\u2019s my particular\nresponsibility to finish this job, even if I\u2019d rather not.\u201d\nHe arose and came around to where she was sitting. \u201cCome, my\nbroken-toed beauty. It\u2019s high time you were asleep.\u201d\n\u201cWill you go to bed too?\u201d\n\u201cYes, I\u2019ll go to bed too.\u201d\nFor the most part, life in the house with the rutabaga top was happy\nand serene. There were no shadows in the large old-fashioned kitchen\nwhere Mom and Janie worked at preparing the evening meal. Crisp washed\nlettuce was taken from the refrigerator and tossed in a big wooden\nbowl. Noodle ring, with cheese and ham sauce, fresh string beans,\ncorn-meal muffins, and hidden somewhere and smelling heavenly was a\nfresh-baked rhubarb pie.\n\u201cYum, pie,\u201d said Jane. \u201cIs it because it\u2019s the last day of school?\u201d\n\u201cYes,\u201d said her mother, \u201ca special celebration.\u201d\n\u201cDid you say pie?\u201d asked ten year old James, suddenly appearing at the\nback door. Mom and Jane laughed for an answer, for there never was a\nboy with an appetite like James. He was tall and slim and inclined to\nbe awkward. His clothes hung loosely on him. His hair, almost curly,\nwas completely unmanageable. He had a quick, hot temper, a generous\nheart, and a lovely smile. As he stood there in the doorway, dirty and\nwarm from the baseball lot, he gave his mother one of those quick rare\nsmiles. He interrupted her unspoken greeting to say, \u201cYes Mom, I\u2019ll\nwash myself, and I\u2019ll wash the back of my neck and my ears, and I won\u2019t\nthrow my towel on the floor.\u201d\nMom laughed and shook her head, and as Janie filled the water glasses\nshe mused, \u201cSometimes I think James is Mom\u2019s favorite, and then again\nperhaps it\u2019s Bill. There\u2019s so much pride in her eyes when she looks at\nBill. Of course, Davey is the youngest, and she pets him a lot. Perhaps\nshe loves him the best of all.\u201d Quietly, Mom was there beside her\nputting the salad on the sideboard, and she bent and kissed the busy\nlittle waitress.\n\u201cJanie, you\u2019re a good girl. I don\u2019t know what I\u2019d do without you.\u201d\n\u201cLo and behold, there was that special, shining look. And this time it\nwas for me,\u201d thought the suddenly glowing Jane. \u201cMom is funny. She must\nlike each one of us best of all.\u201d\nJames was sent to fetch Davey who was playing next door with Robin.\nBill came next. \u201cSorry to be so long, Mom,\u201d he said. \u201cPete and I were\nswapping stamps, and I stopped at the playground on the way home to see\nhow the ball game came out. Lincoln school beat Hawthorne, 5 to 2.\u201d\nThe last part of his sentence was muffled in a face towel. Bill was\nalmost twelve, and no longer had to be told about washing his face and\ncombing his hair, although he sometimes had to be reminded, ever so\ntactfully, about his neck.\nThey waited for Daddy. Jane and Davey sat on the front steps where they\ncould see far down the street. She read the comic page aloud to him,\nand her attention wandered.\n\u201cAnd then what, Janie? What happened next?\u201d Janie pulled her thoughts\nback to the funny strip, but she watched for Daddy out of one eye.\nWould he never come? At last the familiar green car turned in at the\ndriveway, and the cry went up, \u201cDaddy\u2019s here! Daddy\u2019s here!\u201d\nMom had tried to teach the children that they should wait until Daddy\nhad his dinner and a look at the paper before they assailed him with\ntheir problems. \u201cGive him a chance to catch his breath,\u201d she used to\nsay. \u201cHe has to listen to other people\u2019s troubles all day, and by\nevening he\u2019s really very tired.\u201d\nHe didn\u2019t look tired at all when he came in. He wanted to know how\neveryone had spent the day. He kissed Mom and rubbed flour on Janie\u2019s\ncheek. He picked up Davey and James at once to show how strong he was,\nand he admired a boat that Bill was carving.\n\u201cCome to dinner,\u201d called Mom, and they were all gathered around the\ntable in a minute. Davey said \u201cGrace.\u201d He still needed practice with\nsome of his prayers, and it gave him a feeling of importance to speak\nto God personally in the name of the family. There was a brisk clatter\nof knives and forks until they came to the dessert. By that time the\nrush of the day was left behind, and the quiet of the June evening\nseemed to find a place in the hearts of the lively Murray brood. Daddy\nwas blowing smoke rings to amuse Mom, and Janie had almost forgotten\nthat he had something up his sleeve, when he put out his cigarette\nand announced: \u201cI have a plan for going to Oak Lake in case anyone is\ninterested.\u201d\nIt came as a complete surprise to the boys, and they all talked at\nonce. \u201cPlease, children, please,\u201d begged Mom. \u201cOne at a time.\u201d Daddy\ncontinued: \u201cThe case I\u2019ve been working on has been postponed until\nfall, and your mother and I think that we\u2019ll be able to go to the\ncottage as usual.\u201d\n\u201cWhat about you, Daddy? Will you be able to come with us?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll come out for week-ends. I\u2019ll have to stay in town during the\nweek.\u201d\n\u201cWhat will we do about a car?\u201d asked Billy. \u201cYou\u2019ll need the car every\nday in town, won\u2019t you?\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s true,\u201d said his father, \u201cbut if Grandma and Aunt Claire come\nout for the summer we can use their car. You\u2019ll need a car for shopping\nand for going to church on Sunday, although how you\u2019ll all squeeze into\nAunt Claire\u2019s car, I don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll sit on Grandma\u2019s lap,\u201d said Davey. \u201cI always used to, and I still\ncould.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll hang on the rear tire,\u201d said Bill darting a look at Mom who said\nnothing, but her answering glance said as plain as day, \u201cOh no, you\nwon\u2019t.\u201d\nThey talked and talked, and then Daddy pushed back his chair. \u201cWill you\nyoungsters please finish clearing off the table? There are some roses I\nwant your mother to see.\u201d\nJames and Bill cleared the table while Janie washed the glasses and the\nsilverware. It was Davey\u2019s job to dry the knives, forks, and spoons,\nand put them away. He was a good-natured little boy and he sang while\nhe worked. If the song was lively he hurried in time with the music,\nbut if the melody was slow and dreamy, so were his actions. Janie\nwatched him dawdling through \u201cOld Black Joe.\u201d\n\u201cTry \u2018Coming \u2019Round The Mountain\u2019,\u201d she advised, \u201cor you\u2019ll be here all\nnight.\u201d\nThe boys clattered along at their own rate, stopping every so often to\nargue or explain but in spite of it they finished and Jane stacked the\nplates while the boys ran out into the back yard to play ball.\nA curving, enclosed stairway ran from the kitchen to the second floor.\nThe oak treads were worn from the tired tread of maid-servants of\nthe past, but Janie\u2019s limber young legs flew up to the second floor\ntwo steps at a time, and then down the hall to her room. Pulling and\ntugging, she managed to open the bottom drawer of the built-in dresser\nway at the back of her clothes closet. There they were, her lake\nclothes. She tried on some of them. They felt small and light after\nwearing the heavy sweaters and woolen skirts during a Wisconsin spring.\nShe stretched out across her bed and listened to the gentle evening\nsounds of Springhill. \u201cThis turned out to be a very nice day after\nall,\u201d she thought. \u201cTomorrow I must ask Mom about some new playsuits.\nI\u2019ll need some blue jeans for fishing down at the dam with the boys. I\nwonder if that old pickerel is still there; this year I\u2019ll surely catch\nhim.\u201d Billy came pounding up the front stairs to his room looking for a\ncatching mitt, and she called,\n\u201cBilly, let\u2019s go on an all day boat trip down the canal this summer and\nreally explore it.\u201d\nFlushed from play, Billy stood in the doorway between their rooms. He\nwas the oldest Murray boy, and the natural leader in all their games\nand adventures. Almost as tall as Janie, he was so sturdily built, that\nwhen ever they played circus he was always the strong man. He had blue\neyes and fat cheeks and pin-point freckles scattered like the milky way\nacross his upturned nose. James would spend hours with a book, but Bill\nliked people and people liked Bill.\n\u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cThe last time we wanted to take an all day boat trip\ndown the canal Davey fell in head first and James got into a mess of\npoison ivy. Mom said we couldn\u2019t go again. I\u2019d like to build a diving\nhelmet so that I could find treasures on the bottom of the lake, and\nI\u2019d like to have a hay ride for a birthday party.\u201d\n\u201cBirthday party? But your birthday....\u201d\n\u201cYes, I know, my birthday is on Christmas eve, and every one is so\nexcited about Christmas that I never have a real party like other kids\ndo, so sometime I\u2019m going to have a hay ride with a man to play the\nconcertina and cases and cases of pop.\u201d\nJane laughed, but she looked at her brother affectionately. \u201cWhen I\u2019m\na millionaire,\u201d she said, \u201cI\u2019ll take you for a hay ride every summer\nnight. Isn\u2019t it funny,\u201d she continued, \u201chow we plan what we\u2019re going\nto do during the summer, and we never quite do what we plan? Usually\nsomething much more exciting happens. I wonder what it will be this\nyear?\u201d\n_Chapter Two_\n_Who Peppered the Cake_\n[Illustration]\nJanie lay in bed enjoying the grand feeling of the first day of\nvacation. Doves circled in and out of the poplar hedge across the\nstreet. It was still early. The rest of the family was asleep, but\nlying in bed was a waste of time. Slipping into a playsuit, she tiptoed\ndown the back stairs and into the kitchen.\nButchie set up a delighted \u201cchee--chee\u201d at the sight of her, and she\ncrossed to the porch door and let him in. The organ-grinder man had\ntaught Butch to eat his meals sitting at a little table, and there he\nwas perched with a bib around his neck while Jane warmed his porridge.\nHe had some difficulty managing his spoon while he was eating, but\nJanie encouraged him,\n\u201cNever you mind, Butch. All two-year olds spill a little. You\u2019re doing\nwonderfully well. Keep it up, Butchie, old boy.\u201d\nWhen the porridge dish was empty he had a mug of warmed milk. That\nwas easy. He grasped the mug firmly in his paws and drank the milk in\ndainty little sips. As a special reward Janie gave him half a banana.\nHe was delighted. He talked monkey language while he ate, and now and\nthen he\u2019d offer some to Janie, but she politely refused.\nThe rest of the family was awake by now, and she hurried to set the\ntable on the back porch for a surprise for Mom. It was a beautiful\nmorning. The garden was brilliant with iris, day-lilies, and oriental\npoppies, and the tall old lilac trees were sweet with bloom.\nAfter breakfast the boys sat on the front steps waiting for the\nmailman. They were always sending out for approval sheets of stamps,\nand they\u2019d shade their eyes waiting for the mailman like sea captains\nof old waiting for their ships to come in.\nJanie was impatient. \u201cMom,\u201d she said. \u201c_When_ can we go to the lake?\nCould we go out next week-end, or will we have to wait until the end of\nJune when Aunt Claire\u2019s school is out?\u201d\nMom raised her eyebrows and smiled a smug little smile. \u201cThat\u2019s part\nof the surprise,\u201d she said. \u201cWe\u2019re leaving today. I\u2019ve been hoping we\ncould go, and I\u2019ve been getting things ready for the past week.\u201d\nThe rest of the day was a whirlwind of busy arms and legs and suitcases\nand paper boxes.\n\u201cNow, let\u2019s see,\u201d said Mom with a list in her hand. \u201cI mustn\u2019t forget\nanything. I must go to the drug store, the bank, and the postoffice,\nand, oh yes, the library.\u201d\nBilly and James packed the trunk of the car. Sheets and towels were\nstacked neatly in paper cartons. There were boxes of slacks, shirts,\nand swimming trunks, pillows and quilts, and cotton bed spreads.\n\u201cI\u2019ll bring my first-aid box,\u201d said Bill, and that gave James an idea.\nHe came downstairs with his entire stamp collection piled like the\nleaning Tower of Pisa in his arms.\nJanie cocked her chin to one side and put her fists on her hips. \u201cYou\nknow that Mom won\u2019t let you bring all that junk along.\u201d\n\u201cJunk!\u201d exclaimed James indignantly. \u201cThese are my duplicates. I\u2019m\ngoing to sort them out this summer.\u201d He set the stack down carefully on\nthe back porch, and the top-most box toppled over and spilled countless\nlittle bright-colored squares all over the floor. James scooped\nthem all up in a hurry, and tucked the boxes, books, and albums into\nwhatever space he could find in the rear of the car.\nWhen Mom returned from her shopping they went down into the cool\nbasement and carefully packed what was left of the home-preserved\nfruits and vegetables.\n\u201cBring a lot of pickles,\u201d said Davey. \u201cLots and lots of pickles.\u201d\nBy the middle of the afternoon everything was ready. Mom went upstairs\nfor a bath and fresh clothes, and Janie decided to surprise her.\nThey were going to have a picnic supper, and she felt that it should\nbe something special to celebrate the occasion. She paged through the\ncook books and the recipe files and lost a little of her courage. I\u2019d\nbetter limit myself to a dessert, she thought. The last time I tried a\nwhole meal it didn\u2019t turn out so well. A very handsome three-layer cake\ntook her eye, and she assembled all her ingredients, and then gathered\ntogether all the bowls, pans, and spoons she would need.\nDavey walked in carrying Butch. Janie dusted the flour off her hands,\nand raised her eyebrows in an expression of true big-sister superiority.\n\u201cI thought, Davey,\u201d she said, \u201cthat Mom wanted you to keep Butch\noutside today.\u201d\nDavey looked plaintive. \u201cI know,\u201d he grumbled, \u201cbut we want to play\nhide-and-go-seek, and he always runs to where I\u2019m hiding, and then I\u2019m\nalways \u2018it\u2019.\u201d\nJanie giggled. \u201cOkay, Davey. Leave him here. I\u2019ll take care of him.\u201d\nButch was very interested in the cake baking, but Janie discouraged\nhim. She ordered him out on the back porch. She stamped her foot at him\nand shoved him, but he\u2019d only come back again. He watched everything\nshe did, and when she bent over to light the oven, he saw his golden\nopportunity. He jumped up on the table and added his contribution to\nthe cake. He had watched Janie shake a little of this and a little of\nthat into the cake, so he picked up a shaker marked PEPPER and looked\nat her out of his beady eyes. She was still fussing with the oven, so\nhe quickly shook the can into the cake batter and hurried back to his\npost of exile at the kitchen door.\nWith this piece of mischief out of the way, he was content to sit and\nwatch. After the shining flour sifter and the fascinating egg beater\nhad been put away, he ran in to Mom\u2019s chair in the library, and peered\nover her shoulder offering advice as she wrote letters. Mom bounced him\nin a hurry.\n\u201cGo away, you heathenish creature, or I\u2019ll give you to the zoo.\u201d\nJane shook her head and laughed. \u201cYou certainly are a problem, Butch.\nWe\u2019ve never had a two year old who caused so much commotion.\u201d\n\u201cOr was so much fun,\u201d added Mom.\nJanie ran down the street to say good-by to Dor, and when she got back\nthe back porch was half filled with suitcases, packing boxes, bundles\nof all descriptions, and even house plants.\n\u201cGoodness, Mom,\u201d exclaimed Janie. \u201cWhere are we going to put all this\nstuff? Where will _we_ sit?\u201d\n\u201cDaddy\u2019s going to hire a trailer for this trip, dear. Now don\u2019t forget\nto remind me to turn off all the lights, and don\u2019t let\u2019s forget about\nthis big basket. It\u2019s our supper.\u201d\nBilly whistled. \u201cOh boy! Two picnics in one day.\u201d\nButch was just as excited as the children. He hopped from Davey to\nJames and from Billy to Jane. He had his own suitcase. It was an old\ndoll suitcase that used to belong to Jane. Davey had packed it with\nButchie\u2019s few little toys and belongings. There was a whistle, a top, a\nbellboy\u2019s hat, and a toothbrush. You, perhaps, never heard of a monkey\nwith a toothbrush, but Butchie imitated the boys, and his toothbrush\nwas his especial pride.\n\u201cTake it easy, old fella,\u201d said Bill. \u201cWe won\u2019t leave you behind.\u201d\n\u201cChee--chee,\u201d said Butch, as if he meant: \u201cWith this scatterbrain\nfamily, I\u2019m taking no chances.\u201d\nA little after five o\u2019clock Daddy came down the drive with a bright\nyellow trailer attached to the car, and for the next half an hour\neveryone worked like a beaver. Daddy superintended the loading, and Mom\nchecked and rechecked the house and garage, the lights, the faucets,\nthe windows, and the doors. At last everything was ready, and they\nrolled down the driveway and into the street. They passed through\nthe shopping center and over the river and up the hill to the county\nbuildings.\nThe stop light turned green and they turned out on the road that led\nto Oak Lake. The distance was only about twenty-five miles, and they\nusually whisked out there in no time, but with their heavy load they\ntraveled along at a leisurely rate, singing as they went.\nThe Murrays always sang as they drove. They sang as easily as the birds\non the telephone wires, going from one old favorite to the other. They\nliked to sing rounds, like \u201cThree Blind Mice\u201d and \u201cO The Bull Frog on\nthe Bank.\u201d Someone always started \u201cThe Quilting Party,\u201d and Daddy could\nbe counted on for \u201cSwing Low Sweet Chariot.\u201d While they warbled along\nthe highway Butch carefully untied Jane\u2019s hair ribbon, and placed it on\nBilly\u2019s head.\nNow they were coming to a hill that the Murray children always waited\nfor, because far down at the left was a small lake rimmed with cattails\nand spruce trees.\nOnce, long ago, Janie had seen a heron, startled, fly off on his\ngreat brown wings, and sometimes in spring it was the resting place\nfor northern bound flocks of loudly crying wild geese. Tonight it lay\nthere, rose colored in the evening light, like a fallen maple leaf.\n\u201cOur little lake,\u201d said Janie, softly. \u201cI wonder if it has a name.\u201d\nEvery foot of the way was familiar. The fox farm, the barn they had\nseen collapse the night of the big wind, the farm that always had such\nfat little pigs, and then one more hill and the road turned off to the\nlake.\nDaddy drove carefully off the main highway onto the graveled road. They\npassed the haunted house and turned at the canal, went around the curve\nand there sparkling in the sunset, lay beautiful Oak Lake.\nThe planks of the short bridge at the canal rattled under them, and\nfrom there they could see the cottage. There was an iron fence with\nlarge stone posts at the gate, and as the car stopped all the children\nseemed to escape at once.\nMom unlocked the door while Dad lowered the awnings, and then they\nworked quickly to unload the trailer. Billy stopped with a carton in\nhis arms.\n\u201cYou know, Dad,\u201d he said. \u201cI saw a newsreel once of some coolies\nunloading a ship. They formed a long line and passed the stuff from one\nto the other. Why don\u2019t we do that? We could be finished sooner.\u201d\nDad knew that they never minded work if it seemed like a game, so a\nrelay it was. Daddy stood at the trailer and Mom was at the end of the\nline.\nWhen everything was in, Mom called, \u201cWho wants a swim before supper?\u201d\n\u201cI do.\u201d\n\u201cI do.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m so hungry I could eat a raw fish.\u201d\n\u201cPlease don\u2019t.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m so hungry I could eat grass.\u201d\nWhile the boys talked, Janie raced into her swimming suit. She was the\nfirst one ready, and called over the top of the bath house partition:\n\u201cLast one in is a rotten egg!\u201d\n\u201cSplash!\u201d\n\u201cSplash!\u201d\n\u201cSplash!\u201d\n\u201cSplash!\u201d\nThen a big splash for Mom and a bigger splash for Dad, and the Murrays\nwere in for the first swim of the season.\nThe water was cooler than they expected. Mom called it cold, and Dad\ncalled it bracing. Far over on the western shore the sun went down\nbehind the purple woods, and the swallows dipped close to the water and\nthen up again.\n\u201cLook at the swallows,\u201d called James. \u201cThey\u2019re dive bombing.\u201d\n\u201cThey\u2019re dive bombing, all right,\u201d said Daddy, \u201cbut their targets are\nonly mosquitoes.\u201d\n\u201cLast one out is a bum,\u201d called Mom, and her wet brood followed her out\nlike ducklings follow the mother duck.\nThe contents of the picnic baskets were spread on the long table, and\nJanie\u2019s cake was the center of attention. It was covered with pale pink\nfrosting, and she had garnished the edge of the plate with pansies and\nmaiden hair fern. They waited expectantly while Janie cut slices for\nMom and Dad and the boys and a good sized slice for herself. Mom took\nthe first bite.\n\u201cM\u2019m\u2019m, most interesting flavor. What seasoning did you use?\u201d\nDaddy looked puzzled and took a second bite. \u201cThere\u2019s something\ndifferent about this cake, Janie. I can\u2019t quite place it.\u201d\nJanie tasted it. \u201cIt\u2019s pepper,\u201d she cried. \u201cIt tastes like pepper.\u201d She\nglanced immediately at Butch, and squinted her eyes in suspicion. \u201cIf\nI hadn\u2019t watched you every minute of the time, I would suspect....\u201d\nShe didn\u2019t finish her sentence. Butchie, a picture of innocence, was\nfast asleep.\nThe boys carried their paper plates down to the lake front and built a\nfire with them.\n\u201cI\u2019m a heap big Indian chief,\u201d chanted Davey. He danced around and\naround the blaze.\n\u201cIndians used to dance here a hundred years ago,\u201d said Jane. \u201cI know,\nbecause we found arrowheads. Do you remember, Billy, when the farmer\nuncovered all those wonderful Indian relics while he was plowing?\nThe level of the lake was higher then. They must have had happy\ncelebrations just like we do now, and they must have loved this part of\nthe country very much. Just think how filled the lake must have been\nwith fish, and the woods over there on the western shore were filled\nwith deer and rabbits and pheasants, and....\u201d\n\u201cBears,\u201d interrupted James. \u201cBig brown bears. Here comes Dad. Let\u2019s ask\nhim to tell us a story about the Indians who used to live here.\u201d\nDad sat down cross-legged before the dying fire and told them a long\nstory about an Indian who caught a pickerel who could talk. The story\nwent on and on until it was quite dark and the stars came out. Mom came\ndown and chased them off to bed.\n\u201cThere\u2019s going to be a big day tomorrow,\u201d she said. \u201cWe have to get the\nweeds out of the garden.\u201d\nJane came back to the porch after she was ready for bed, and found Mom\nreading. \u201cWould you like a sandwich,\u201d she asked. \u201cThe failure of my\ncake left me hungry.\u201d\n\u201cM\u2019m,\u201d said Mom, without looking up.\n\u201cMake one for me too, Petunia,\u201d said Dad.\nThe kitchen seemed warm, and as Janie opened the window, a robin flew\naway. \u201cOur friend is back,\u201d called Jane. \u201cThat same robin has been\nmaking her nest here on the window sill for a long time now. We\u2019ll\nhave to be careful about opening the window. She doesn\u2019t like to be\ndisturbed.\u201d\nShe finished her sandwiches and carried them back to the porch. \u201cCould\nI have Katy visit me this year, Mom?\u201d\n\u201cYes, Janie. I\u2019ll ask Katy\u2019s mother the next time I see her. Perhaps\nshe can come out to spend the Fourth of July with us. Does that settle\nall your problems?\u201d\n\u201cYes, Mom, and I\u2019m so sleepy I can hardly stay awake another minute.\nGood night Daddy. Goodnight Mom. Oh, but it\u2019s nice to be at the lake\nagain.\u201d\n_Chapter Three_\n_The Purse in the Trash Pile_\n[Illustration]\nIt was the twelfth of June. Everyone else was asleep, so Janie dressed\nquietly and went out into the garden to hoe while it was still cool.\nThe dew was on the grass, and she surprised a fat little rabbit eating\nclover. She laughed. He looked so silly when he ran, with his white dab\nof a tail.\nThe garden was across the road and way at the back of the lot. It was\npleasant there. You could see far off across the fields as far as\nthe swamp where the tamaracks grew. Janie had never been as far as\nthat swamp. Daddy said it was like a jungle. The trees grew so thick\nyou could hardly walk through it, and there were snakes and even\nquicksand. It looked very pretty this morning in the soft light. The\ntamaracks were like soft green fur.\nJanie hoed and weeded and worked away at her share of the garden. After\na while Billy came across the road. \u201cHi, Bill,\u201d she called. \u201cHurry over\nhere. I have an idea.\u201d He came on the bound, and she laughed to see him\nrun. He\u2019s like that little rabbit I saw a while ago, she thought. He\u2019s\ngood natured and he has fat cheeks.\n\u201cWhat\u2019s your idea, Jane?\u201d demanded Bill.\n\u201cI\u2019ve been out here toiling in the corn like old black Joe while you\nwere asleep, and now I\u2019m all tuckered out. Sit down here under this\ntree, and I\u2019ll tell you all about it. You see that old trash heap there\nin the next lot? Well, when Mrs. Saunders went back to Chicago last\nfall, she cleaned house, and she threw away a lot of really good junk.\nShe had a cleaning woman helping her, and they tossed out stuff by the\nbushel basket. Mom wouldn\u2019t let me take any of it then, because she\nsaid we had enough junk of our own to clean up, but I\u2019d just like to\npoke around and see if there\u2019s anything there we could use.\u201d\n\u201cWhat could we do with it?\u201d asked Billy.\n\u201cDon\u2019t you remember the time we found the wheels and made a wagon?\u201d\n\u201cYes, but there were only three wheels, so it turned out to be an\nairplane.\u201d\n\u201cYes, and do you remember the time we found the clock, and how Davey\nmonkeyed with it for weeks, and then one night when we were all asleep\nit started to strike, and scared us half to death?\u201d\nBilly laughed and shook his head. \u201cPoor old clock,\u201d he said. \u201cIt struck\ntwenty times in a row, and then it never ticked again.\u201d\nThey started back down to the cottage for breakfast. There were\npancakes and syrup, and cold milk, and a big bowl of fresh\nstrawberries. They ate at a long narrow table placed in front of the\nopen windows at the west end of the porch. Old-fashioned moss roses\nwere in bloom beneath the windows. The lake lay out in front of them,\nsmooth and blue, and a family of tiny wild canaries were very busy with\na piece of string in the willow tree.\nAfter breakfast Janie made her bed, and then walked out in the back\nyard again. The boys were doing their share of the gardening, and with\nher eyes closed Janie could have guessed what was going on. Any strong\ninterest in gardening usually lasted until a worm was turned over, and\nthen someone would say, \u201cLet\u2019s go fishing.\u201d Whatever cultivation the\ngarden got from there on was accidental.\nThe pattern was slightly different this morning. Davey turned over a\nflat stepping stone, and found part of an ant colony. He called, \u201cHey,\nfellows, look at this,\u201d and hoeing was cheerfully suspended while the\nboys traced the progress of the ants by turning over stone after stone\nin the garden path. They lay flat on their stomachs, marveling at the\nintricate tunnels, and the clever way the little creatures maneuvered\nloads much larger than themselves.\nJanie felt very virtuous, with her share of the weeding finished.\n\u201cNow,\u201d she said. \u201cIf you boys would work as hard as those ants do, we\u2019d\nhave a beautiful garden.\u201d Billy rolled on his back and grinned lazily\nas he squinted up at the sun.\n\u201cAw,\u201d he said, \u201cit\u2019s too hot to work. Let\u2019s go swimming.\u201d\nThe four children trailed down through the front yard toward the\nbathhouse.\n\u201cOh, Mom,\u201d called Janie. \u201cDo you want to come swimming with us?\u201d\nMom came to the screen door. Her hair was tied up in a turban, and she\nhad work gloves on her hands and smudges on her face. \u201cLook at me,\u201d she\nsaid. \u201cI\u2019ve been waxing floors, and I don\u2019t have enough ambition left\nto swim as far as the raft. I\u2019ll sit on the beach and play lifeguard.\u201d\nThe boys splashed noisily off in the row boat, but Janie walked out\nto the raft. On a quiet day like this you could see all sorts of\ninteresting things in the water. A large school of minnows swam ahead\nof her as she waded. There were clams on the floor of the lake, and\ncolored rocks. Daddy said that some of these rocks had the imprint of\ntropical plants, fernlike tracings from the time when the world was\nstill being made. There were turtles sometimes, but no sign of them\nthis morning.\nJanie swam the rest of the way out to the raft, and then stretched out\nin the sun and watched her brothers. The sun felt warm on her back. She\nwaved at Mom on the beach, and then ran to the edge of the raft and\ndove into the cool water. They swam around for a short while more, and\nthen headed for shore.\nWhile they ate lunch Billy told Mom about the junk pile in the back\nlot. \u201cI can\u2019t think of any reason why you can\u2019t go over there, if\nyou\u2019re careful not to get hurt,\u201d she said. \u201cMrs. Saunders surely\nwouldn\u2019t mind getting rid of some of that trash pile. The only thing\nis that you must be careful of rusty wire and broken glass, and things\nlike that.\u201d\n\u201cWe\u2019ll be careful, Mom,\u201d they promised. After lunch Janie helped Mom\nwith the dishes, and the boys started off for the back yard. They wore\nDaddy\u2019s cotton work gloves, and James carried a long stick for prodding\naround. Mom said that it wouldn\u2019t be a very good place for Butch, so he\nstayed on the porch.\nThe first thing that Billy dragged out was the leather-covered seat\nfrom an old sofa. \u201cThis will be great for landing on when we high\njump,\u201d he said.\nJames was overjoyed when he found a large assortment of old medicine\nbottles. \u201cI\u2019m going to wash these out,\u201d he said, \u201cand use them for my\nexperiments.\u201d\nJames was always putting strange things together, and shaking them\nup in a bottle with varying results. Sometimes the cork would blow\noff, and the stuff would blow all over the room. Sometimes the magic\nbrew would be forgotten, and it would stand around in the heat until\nMom would dump it out gingerly with one hand while she held her nose\ntight shut with the other. Once he put a mixture of unknown chemicals\ntogether, and some of it spilled on the floor. All the varnish came\noff. The spot is still there, covered up with a rug. Mom was really\nprovoked that time, but James always felt that that was one of his best\ncombinations. He piled the empty bottles into a basket and whistled\nhappily while he worked.\nDavey collected just like a crow. There was nothing logical in the\nway he gathered his treasures. Just now he had found the remains of an\nold parlor lamp, and he was sitting in the grass, taking it apart, \u201cto\nfix it.\u201d Mom smiled to see him so absorbed, and she shook her head.\n\u201cI\u2019ll be shaking bits of that old lamp out of his trouser pockets for\nthe next two weeks,\u201d she said. Then she waved at Billy and James and\ncalled: \u201cI think you\u2019re all wonderful. Carry on while I find some bean\npoles.\u201d\nJane walked over to the junk pile and looked around. There certainly\nwas an interesting assortment, but what was that noise? Billy heard it\nat the same time, and stopped working. It was Butch, chattering and\nrunning around in the tall grass.\n\u201cButchie, you\u2019ll cut your paws. Come, Butchie, come back to me,\u201d called\nDavey.\nThe little monkey thought that the children were playing with him, and\nhe climbed up on the junk pile. Just as Billy reached down to pick him\nup, he stuck his paw down among some old dried leaves and picked up a\nsmall leather purse. Then, with a shriek and a scurry, he was off again.\n\u201cButch, you naughty monkey, what did you find? Come here, Butch,\u201d\ncalled Bill.\nButch was delighted with his prize. He raced off to the little cottage,\nand there he crawled under the porch, where he buried his loot. He came\nback to the children clapping his paws together in great satisfaction.\nDavey picked him up, and carried him back to the cottage porch. \u201cThis\ntime be sure and lock the screen door,\u201d called Billy.\n\u201cWhat do you suppose he found in that purse?\u201d said Jane.\n\u201cOh, it was just some old junk.\u201d\n\u201cNo, it wasn\u2019t old. It was new. I saw it. It was a good purse, and it\nwas filled with something.\u201d\nBilly didn\u2019t answer. He stood there looking puzzled, like a fat-cheeked\nquestion mark.\n\u201cI don\u2019t get you, Janie.\u201d\n\u201cJust the same, Bill, I wish that Butch hadn\u2019t taken the trouble to\nhide it. Do you suppose we could find where he buried it?\u201d\nBilly didn\u2019t look so puzzled any more. \u201cOf course we could find it.\nButch never buries anything very deep. He just makes a shallow hole,\nand covers it over loosely with leaves and grass and stuff. I tell you\nwhat let\u2019s do. Let\u2019s go down and get Butch, and send him under the\nlittle cottage. We\u2019ll tell him to fetch it back for us.\u201d\nJane said: \u201cAll right, Billy. We can try it, but I doubt if it will\nwork. I love Butch. I think he\u2019s clever and cute, but he\u2019s so perverse\nthat if he thought we really wanted him to do one thing, he\u2019d do\nanother.\u201d\nThey walked down to the cottage together and found Butch playing the\npiano. He was delighted to see them so soon after he had been banished,\nand he seemed to listen very carefully while Billy explained what they\nwanted him to do.\n\u201cYou go back under the little cottage,\u201d said Bill, \u201cand bring us the\npurse you found.\u201d He gave him a playful little push, and then brother\nand sister lay flat on the grass, watching to see how he would obey\ntheir instructions. He made straight for the hiding place, dug for\na moment, and then dragged forth the purse. He held it up for their\ndelighted applause.\n\u201cGood work, Butchie.\u201d\n\u201cGood monkey!\u201d\nEven as they spoke there was a wild uproar, and Buick, the neighbor\u2019s\ndog appeared at the other side of the cottage. He was barking with all\nthe fury that the sight of the monkey always aroused in him.\nButch grabbed his prize to his chest, and raced for the porch pillars.\nHe was up as fast as you could call his name. Once off the ground, he\nwas safe from Buick\u2019s angry barking. He put his purse in a safe place,\nand then leaned over the porch roof to see what was going on. When\nthe children would beg him to come down he would place both paws over\nhis heart, and roll his eyes, as if to say, \u201cCan\u2019t you see that this\nblack, short-legged, bewhiskered monster would tear me to shreds?\u201d The\nnext minute he would wave his little red shirt like a bullfighter at\nthe dog, and grin and prance in glee from his safe perch.\nMom appeared to find out what all the shouting and barking was about.\nShe smiled at Butchie\u2019s predicament, and told Bill to quiet Buick and\ntake him home.\n\u201cOkay, Mom. Then I\u2019ll get a ladder and go up and rescue Butch.\u201d\n\u201cNo, whatever you do, don\u2019t go up on that roof,\u201d said Mrs. Murray\nseriously. \u201cThere\u2019s a loose wire up there that could give you a very\nbad shock. If Daddy is able to come out this week-end, he\u2019ll go up\nthere and repair it, but in the meantime, don\u2019t any of you go near it.\u201d\nJanie\u2019s face fell. She knew what Mom said was true. There was danger of\na shock if they crawled up there, but what about the purse? Now they\u2019d\nhave to wait until Saturday to get it. As soon as Billy led Buick away,\nButch shinneyed down the porch pillar and Jane carried him to the big\ncottage.\nMom greeted her with some good news. \u201cI expect Grandma and Aunt Claire\nout here one of these days, perhaps tomorrow. We\u2019ll have to air out the\nlittle cottage, and get it ready for them.\u201d\nThe children were glad. Grandma was a great favorite. She was one of\nthose rare persons who had energy and enthusiasm to spare, and though\nher curly hair was white, and her knees were a bit stiff, she knew all\nkinds of tricks and games. She could hold a sick child on her lap, and\nsing to him and tell him stories until the pain would go away. She\ncould end a quarrel by telling a funny story, and she never forgot a\nchild\u2019s favorite dish.\nShe always carried a large black purse, and what wonders it contained!\nThere were rolls of caramels and fruit drops, peppermints and gum.\nThere was a coin purse that jingled with pennies and nickels and dimes\nfor children who had been especially good.\nAunt Claire was Grandma\u2019s only daughter, and she lived with her. She\nwas a jolly little person with twinkling brown eyes. She could paint\nbeautiful pictures, and she knew just where to catch big fish. She\ndidn\u2019t invent stories like Daddy did. She read aloud, which pleased the\nchildren just as much, and she won the undying respect of her nephews\nby being able to bait her own hook.\nJust at that time the nephews would rather be baiting hooks than\npreparing for their Aunt\u2019s arrival, but off to the little cottage they\nmarched with brooms and mops and dust cloths.\nBilly took off a screen and climbed through the window. His brothers\nfollowed him. They, might have to clean house, but nothing so common\nplace as walking through a door to do it. Oh no. They dusted with\nvigor, if not with care. James slyly tripped Billy with a wet mop, and\nDavey hid under the bed while Mom scolded about it.\nIn less than an hour everything was bright and clean. Janie ran to the\ngarden and picked a bouquet of pansies to put beside Grandma\u2019s bed and\nDavey fixed a glass of lemonade to stand beside Aunt Claire\u2019s bed. No\none told him that it would be warm and stale by the next day. It was\nhis contribution, and he was seriously praised for his thoughtfulness.\nMom walked out on the pier just as Janie, Billy and James were leaving\nto go fishing.\n\u201cI am the bearer of sad tidings,\u201d she said.\nThey looked at her blankly.\n\u201cMrs. Saunders\u2019 junk pile,\u201d she explained, \u201cis only half cleaned up.\nYou\u2019ll have to finish it.\u201d\n\u201cYes, Mom,\u201d said Billy soothingly. \u201cAs soon as we get back from\nfishing.\u201d\n\u201cNo, Billy. The place is the back yard, and the time is _now_.\u201d\n\u201cJanie has to help too,\u201d said Bill. \u201cShe thought of it in the first\nplace.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s just fine with me,\u201d Mom assured him. \u201cNow hurry and finish\nclearing up that mess before Grandma gets here.\u201d\nThe disgruntled trio started back to Mrs. Saunders\u2019 yard.\n\u201cCreepers!\u201d said James. \u201cAll we did today was work!\u201d\n_Chapter Four_\n_The Turtle Who Towed the Boat_\n[Illustration]\nOne morning Janie awoke to hear the dripping of the leaves and the soft\nsplashing of the rain against her window. She yawned, stretched, and\nturned over for another nap. How peaceful it was. She squirmed in sheer\ncomfort.\nThen she sneezed. Her ear tickled and she scratched it. Her nose\ntickled again, and all of a sudden she was wide awake and yelling\nangrily.\n\u201cBilly, get out of here! I know you\u2019re behind that dresser. I saw you\ntry to tickle me with your old feather!\u201d\nMrs. Murray appeared at the door and pulled Billy out from behind the\ndresser. \u201cNow, my boy,\u201d she wanted to know, \u201cwhat are you doing here?\u201d\nHe looked silly, standing there in his pajamas, holding a feather\nattached to a wand.\n\u201cGee, Mom. I was only trying to wake her, so we could go fishing.\u201d\n\u201cAll right, then. Back upstairs with you, and finish dressing.\u201d Turning\nto Jane she said: \u201cDo you think it was worth while to lose your temper\nfor a little tickle like that?\u201d\nJanie glowered. Her eyebrows were drawn together and her lower lip\nstuck out in an angry pout. \u201cMom, he teases me all the time.\u201d\n\u201cAll the time, dear?\u201d\n\u201cWell, he teases me a lot. Sometimes in the morning he sticks his head\nin my door and sticks his tongue out at me, just to make me mad!\u201d\n\u201cIf you didn\u2019t scream so, and make such a fuss, he wouldn\u2019t pay any\nattention to you. You\u2019ll have to learn to pass off some of the boy\u2019s\nteasing with a smile. Don\u2019t lose your temper.\u201d\n\u201cWell, I\u2019ll try,\u201d grumbled Jane, \u201cbut he....\u201d\n\u201cNot he,\u201d her mother interrupted, \u201cbut I. Billy has to conquer his own\nfaults and you must learn to handle yours. Get up now and let\u2019s all have\nbreakfast. Grandma and Aunt Claire may get here today if they don\u2019t\nmind a little rain.\u201d\nMother and daughter exchanged a brief smile and a brief kiss. Janie\nsat on the edge of her bed and swung her legs back and forth. All of a\nsudden she gave a good kick and one slipper hit the ceiling while the\nother flew into the open closet door. That was the end of her tantrum.\nBilly\u2019s head was bent over a huge bowl of corn flakes when Janie came\nup behind him and surprised him with a kiss.\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, bub.\u201d\nHe stopped a moment, and then turned around,\n\u201cOkay, Okay! Boy, you went off like a fire siren. Do you still want to\ngo fishing?\u201d\n\u201cOf course I do.\u201d\n\u201cThen hurry up and finish your breakfast, and let\u2019s get out of here.\u201d\nBreakfast was out of the way in a hurry, and Mom offered to do the\ndishes if the children would make the beds.\nJames offered some of his best fat worms for the expedition, and was\ninvited to go along. Davey decided he\u2019d go without being invited. Looks\nwere exchanged.\nDavey was sort of a problem. He was four years younger than James and\nsix years younger than Bill, but he was included in all their games and\nplans as an equal. That is, he was almost always included. Every so\noften he had to be told he was too little or too young.\nMom was most persuasive. \u201cButch and I would like to have you stay,\ndear. It would be lonely all morning without you. I thought, after I\nfinished the dishes, I might walk over and see Mrs. William\u2019s dog.\nWouldn\u2019t you like to go along?\u201d\nBut David only looked woebegone. Billy said: \u201cAw, let him come along.\nI\u2019ll take care of him.\u201d\n\u201cYes, Mom,\u201d Janie pleaded, \u201cThere\u2019s plenty of room, and I know he\u2019ll be\nquiet and good.\u201d Mrs. Murray consented and the expedition was on its\nway.\nThey wore sou\u2019westers and raincoats. They took apples and cookies and\nbait and a bottle of water. Billy and James rowed and Davey sat in the\nfront seat. Janie sat on the wide seat at the back and kept an eye on\nthe bait.\n\u201cLet\u2019s go over to the pond,\u201d she said. \u201cI have a feeling that they\nmight be biting there.\u201d\n\u201cPond, ahoy,\u201d called James, and they set out for the eastern shore of\nthe lake. There were other boats out, and the children occasionally\ncalled out a greeting to a neighbor or a fishing acquaintance.\nThe boys took great sweeps with the oars, and the boat skimmed over\nthe smooth water. Davey called out a warning about the big submerged\nrocks at the entrance to the pond, and Bill stood up and maneuvered the\nboat through the shallow rocky channel. Then through the cattails, the\nboat parted them as a comb parts hair. They swished and fell away at\neither side, and now, the pond at last.\nEvery one reached for his fish pole and selected his bait carefully.\nThere was an almost church-like silence, broken only by the plop of the\nsinkers hitting the water.\nJames had the first strike, a bass, and his shrill squeal of delight\nmust have been heard half way across the lake. He tossed it across to\nJanie, who dropped it into the basket.\nBill caught the next bass and Janie got the third. Fishing was really\ngood, and in no time the basket was half full of flopping, slippery\nbass.\nDavey had been lying flat on his stomach across the front of the boat,\nconcentrating on some mysterious bubbles rising beside one of the big\nflat rocks. All of a sudden he let out a yell, and every one turned to\nsee him pulling for all his might.\n\u201cHelp! Help! Something is pulling my line away! Help! It\u2019s awfully\nstrong.\u201d\nBilly was beside him in an instant and grabbed the line. James\nfell down beside them and held Davey\u2019s feet to keep him from going\noverboard, and Janie added to the commotion by jumping up and down and\nscreaming: \u201cDon\u2019t tip the boat! Don\u2019t tip the boat!\u201d\nBilly and Davey pulled with all their strength, and then out of the\nwater there appeared a great, thrashing rubber-backed turtle!\nHe was securely hooked at the side of his leathery jaw, and he glared\nat his captors out of his little beady eyes, and he lashed the water\nlike a twenty pound carp.\n\u201cPull him in! Pull him in,\u201d screamed James.\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d screamed Janie. \u201cHe\u2019ll bite us!\u201d\nBill played out a little more line and said, reasonably, \u201cEvery body\nsit down, and let\u2019s figure out what to do.\u201d\n\u201cHe\u2019s mine,\u201d said Davey, in almost unbearable excitement. \u201cI caught\nhim, and I\u2019m going to bring him home.\u201d\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you let him go?\u201d said James. \u201cThat hook must be hurting his\nmouth.\u201d\n\u201cNot so much as you think,\u201d Janie offered. \u201cI\u2019ve heard Daddy say that\nthe skin around a fish\u2019s mouth is very tough, and a turtle\u2019s must be\neven tougher. Anyway, we can\u2019t get the hook out here, and we can\u2019t cut\nthe line and let him go off by himself with the hook sticking in him. I\ntell you what! Let\u2019s tow him home!\u201d\n\u201cGood idea,\u201d exclaimed Bill, and they set about fastening the monster\nto the back of the boat. He was about three feet long and two feet\nacross, and not at all agreeable. He tossed and yanked at the rope and\nit took both Billy and David to fasten him to the boat, while Janie\nrowed carefully out through the rocky channel. James waded behind,\nurging him along with a stick. They wouldn\u2019t have been able to do\nanything with him at all, except that they made a sort of harness for\nhim out of a length of clothes line. Billy used his cub scout knots and\nwas quite proud of the result.\nWhen they reached the main body of the lake James had to jump in, and\nby that time it had stopped raining, and was as steaming hot as could\nbe. Rain coats and hats were quickly shed as they started back across\nthe lake for home.\nOld rubber-back tussled away at the line for all he was worth, and\nBilly was really worried. \u201cYou know,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019ve read about boats\nbeing towed out to sea by giant turtles.\u201d\n\u201cAw shucks, Bill, you read too much,\u201d said James. \u201cBesides that was in\nthe south seas. They have much bigger turtles there.\u201d\n\u201cJust the same, I think this guy is pulling us off our course. I tell\nyou what. Let\u2019s haul him in the boat, and then we can make better time.\u201d\n\u201cNix, nix, nothing doing, my friend,\u201d came firmly from Janie. \u201cI\npromised Mom I\u2019d see that Davey got home safely, and if you two boys\nstart hauling a turtle into the boat, anything might happen.\u201d\n\u201cGolly, Jane,\u201d said Bill. \u201cWe\u2019ll never get home this way. I\u2019m pulling\non the oars just as hard as I can, and he pulls as hard as he can in\nthe opposite direction.\u201d\nThe turtle settled it. Just as they spoke, he gave a lurch that pulled\nthe boat out toward the center of the lake. Janie looked concerned.\n\u201cOkay,\u201d she said, \u201cbut please let\u2019s be careful.\u201d\nDavey sat down in his place on the front seat and Janie took the oars,\nwhile the two boys knelt on the wide seat at the back, and rolled up\ntheir sleeves for the big pull. They braced themselves and pulled for\nall they were worth, and the old turtle came slowly up until his nose\nwas against the boat. James reached down and grabbed him at one side\nof his shell and then Bill got the other side, and with a mighty heave\nthey hauled him over the edge, and thrust him back into the boat. There\nhe lay on his back, helpless, with his legs frantically clawing in all\ndirections, and his wicked mouth opening and shutting.\nJanie clung to the oars like mad and as the turtle hit the floor boards\nher feet flew up in the air, and one leg was perched safely at either\nrail of the boat. Davey was goggle-eyed and Bill was the first to\nrecover his speech. He clapped Janie on the shoulder:\n\u201cRelax skipper. You can put your feet down now. He won\u2019t bite you.\nHe\u2019s helpless as long as he\u2019s flat on his back.\u201d\n\u201cOh no,\u201d quavered Janie. \u201cI\u2019m taking no chances,\u201d and she pulled her\nknees up under her chin.\n\u201cWell, all right then,\u201d said Bill. \u201cYou get up there in front with\nDavey and I\u2019ll row. It\u2019s going to be hard rowing with so much weight at\none end, but there\u2019s no use telling you to walk past \u2018old rubber-back\u2019\nto get to your seat.\u201d\nJanie gratefully gave up her position at the oars and went to sit with\nDavey at the front. \u201cGolly, Jane,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat do you think of him?\nIsn\u2019t he giant?\u201d\n\u201cHe sure is, honey,\u201d said Jane, patting him on the back. \u201cHe sure is.\u201d\nThey were coming along the eastern shore of the lake now and the steamy\nheat was making everyone thirsty. \u201cAny water left back there, James?\u201d\ncalled Bill.\n\u201cNo, not a drop. I\u2019m thirsty too.\u201d\nBilly took a long look at the distant pier that meant home and wet his\nlips.\n\u201cBoy, I\u2019m thirsty. I tell you what let\u2019s do. There\u2019s a pump in the\nfront yard of the haunted house. Let\u2019s stop there and get a cold drink.\u201d\nThis suggestion was strongly approved by the others, and Billy turned\nin at the ramshackle pier of the deserted house. Folks around Oak Lake\ncalled it the Mott place, but Dad said that no one had lived there for\nforty or fifty years. Ben, the handy man, said it was haunted, and\nJanie always shivered a little as she went past it, even on a bright\nsunny day like this one. It was a full three stories high, with turrets\nand gables and balconies. The decorations around the eaves looked like\nthe ornamental icing on a wedding cake. It must have been very grand\nwhen it was new and nicely cared for. You could still see the outlines\nof the old gardens, but the flowers were long since choked out by the\ntall weeds. There was a fountain in the front yard too, rusty and dry.\nThe figure of a little girl stood in the top basin. She was fat and\ndimpled and she held a protesting duck in her arms ... an iron one, of\ncourse. She must have stood there summer and winter for fifty years,\nand yet, somehow she didn\u2019t look lonesome or unhappy. Ben said there\nused to be an elaborate group of stables on the place, but they burned\ndown long ago. All that was left of the out-buildings was a small shack\ncovered with tar paper. There was an evergreen windbreak all along the\nnorth side of the property, and the branches swayed and sighed in the\nwind. Janie really shivered this time.\n\u201cB\u2019r\u2019r\u2019r,\u201d she said. \u201cThis is the lonesomest place I ever saw. Let\u2019s\nget out of here.\u201d\n\u201cAw,\u201d said James, \u201cyou always talk just like a girl.\u201d \u201cThere\u2019s the\npump,\u201d called Bill. \u201cI see it down there in those tall weeds. I\u2019m so\nthirsty, I could drink a gallon.\u201d\nThe boat nosed into the pier, and Davey was the first to step ashore.\nHe raced over the wobbly boards and toward the pump calling, \u201cFirst\ndrink! First drink!\u201d\nJanie was at his heels and the boys stopped only long enough to fasten\nthe boat and pick up the water bottle. Janie pumped until the water ran\ncold, and they splashed their faces with it and took long drinks.\nBill filled the bottle, and they started back for the boat, when\nsuddenly out of the tumble down shack there appeared a big, ragged and\ndirty man. He waved his arms in the air and shouted at them,\n\u201cGet out of here, you trespassers, you! Get out of here or I\u2019ll whale\nthe daylights out of you!\u201d\nThe children just stood for a moment, too frightened to move. He\nstarted toward them, waving a stick and shouting, and Janie said, \u201cThe\nboat! Hurry, we must get to the boat.\u201d\nThey ran like the wind, and long-legged James got there first and had\nthe boat untied in the wink of an eye.\nThe horrid man was gaining on them now, still shouting and waving his\nstick in the air. Janie leaped over the turtle and grabbed one oar and\nBilly took the other. James held Davey.\n\u201cPush, James! Push! We\u2019re stuck,\u201d yelled Bill frantically. James\nreached out to grab the pier and push the boat off, and just then there\nwas a violent commotion in the weeds. Charging down upon them in full\nfury came a wicked looking goat. His head was lowered and his sharp\ncurled horns were thrust out. James pushed desperately to loosen the\nboat, and the weight of the goat and the shove were all the rackety old\npier could take.\nIt collapsed into the water with a great splash, and down went the goat\nin a tangle of horns and whiskers and loose boards. The children gasped\nand then James screamed,\n\u201cRow! Row for your life!\u201d And the boat shot out into the lake and out\nof reach of the bedraggled goat and the angry man.\nThey made the distance home in record time, and almost cried with\nrelief when at last they reached their own pier.\n\u201cBoy!\u201d said Billy. \u201cThat was a close one. I\u2019ll never go near that place\nagain.\u201d\n_Chapter Five_\n_Grandma Always Brought Presents_\n[Illustration]\nDavey wanted to carry the turtle in single handed, but he was voted\ndown and instead he was given the honor of bringing Mom down to\nsurprise her.\n\u201cOld rubber-back\u201d had been turned right side up again, and he sat\nquietly on the floor boards, all tired out from his struggle. Mom came\nhurrying down, escorted by the beaming Davey.\n\u201cWhere\u2019s the turtle?\u201d she called.\n\u201cOh, my goodness, it\u2019s as big as a house!\u201d\n\u201cWhy it\u2019s immense!\u201d\n\u201cHow did you ever land him?\u201d\n\u201cWhat will Dad say?\u201d\nEveryone answered at once and even Mrs. Landry, their neighbor, came\nover to see the catch. She volunteered the use of her big wash tub as a\ntemporary tank. A man who was visiting at Williams took the fish hook\nout of the turtle\u2019s jaw, and after that he seemed quite contented in\nhis new home. They decided to keep him until Daddy could get out to see\nhim.\nEveryone raced for the porch when Mom mentioned food. They were\nsprawled about in comfortable chairs finishing their lunch and laughing\nand talking, when all of a sudden Janie exclaimed,\n\u201cMom, something awful happened this afternoon.\u201d\nThen she told of their adventure at the deserted house. Mom looked\nserious. \u201cOh dear, you must never go near that place again. That man is\nsort of an old hermit. He lives there in a chicken coop with his goat.\nYou must be kind to him, but it would be a good idea to keep out of his\nway.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t worry, Mom, we will,\u201d said Billy, and the others agreed.\nBy and by the boys drifted out to the front yard to play ball. Mom sat\nin the lawn swing watching the sunset, and Janie read the evening paper.\nFar down the road there appeared a small black car. It came closer and\ncloser around the curve, and finally stopped at the Murray gate.\n\u201cToot Toot!\u201d\n\u201cGrandma!\u201d\n\u201cAunt Claire!\u201d\n\u201cDaddy rode out with them!\u201d\n\u201cWe have the little cottage all ready for you!\u201d\nIn the midst of all the excited greeting Mom said, \u201cLet\u2019s go down to\nthe porch. Janie, you make a pot of tea for your grandmother. Boys, you\nhelp with the boxes and bags.\u201d\nThere never was anything like Grandma and Aunt Claire moving out to\nthe lake for the season. In addition to the normal load the car held\na portable sewing machine, a portable phonograph, Aunt Claire\u2019s oil\npaints and her water colors. There were boxes of yarn for knitting,\nsewing materials, and stacks of magazines containing serial stories\nthat Grandma hadn\u2019t quite finished reading in town. There was Aunt\nClaire\u2019s fishing tackle, her camera, and Grandma\u2019s canary bird. There\nwere always presents for everyone, and this time was no exception.\nAfter Grandma had finished her tea and everyone had inspected and\nadmired \u201cold rubber-back\u201d, the family was assembled once more and the\npresents were handed out. Mom was first. She received a wide brimmed\ngarden hat. Janie got a new swimming suit. Billy and James each got an\nelaborate cowboy holster with toy guns, and David found a catching mitt\nin his package.\nButch had a present too, but where was he? They looked all over the\ncottage and couldn\u2019t find him. Davey was getting frightened.\n\u201cOh, I hope he didn\u2019t run out on the road,\u201d he said. \u201cHe\u2019ll get run\nover for sure.\u201d\n\u201cCome on folks,\u201d called Dad. \u201cEverybody out for the big monkey hunt.\u201d\nThe family spread out in the front yard calling, \u201cButch!\u201d \u201cOh Butch!\u201d\nDavey was the first to hear the answering monkey chatter and he called\nthe rest. There was the missing rascal, sitting on the big turtle and\nriding round and round in the old wash tub!\nIt was wonderful to have the whole family together again. In the\nexcitement of catching the turtle and losing Butch, the purse on the\ncottage roof was almost forgotten, but not quite. James remembered, and\nhis eyes grew large.\n\u201cDaddy\u201d he cried. \u201cDaddy! Butchie found a purse, and he hid it up on\nthe roof of the little cottage.\u201d\nBy that time the children were gathered around Dad and were all talking\nat once.\n\u201cPlease get it down for us!\u201d\n\u201cMom wouldn\u2019t let us go up there.\u201d\n\u201cPlease Daddy, can we get it now?\u201d\n\u201cDaddy, may I go up with you?\u201d\n\u201cLet me, Daddy, please!\u201d\nDaddy laughed and put up his arms to defend himself. \u201cHelp, help!\u201d he\ncried. He finally got the story all straightened out, and he was very\nmuch interested.\n\u201cJust wait till I get some old work pants on,\u201d he said, \u201cand I\u2019ll go up\nthere and look for it while it\u2019s still daylight.\u201d\nBilly ran to get a ladder, and the rest of the family gathered around\nto watch the excitement. Daddy soon came bounding up the rock garden\nsteps in his old work pants. They were frayed and faded and there were\nspots of at least six different colors of paint, not counting cement,\nvarnish and chair mending glue, but they were Dad\u2019s favorite pants.\nHe called to Davey. \u201cSend that rascal Butch up here,\u201d he said. He\nclimbed up to the roof of the porch. Butchie scampered up after him,\nbut either he had forgotten where he hid the purse, or else he didn\u2019t\nwant Daddy to find it, because they looked and looked, and Daddy even\npried up pieces of roofing, but there was no purse.\n\u201cAre you sure he put it up here?\u201d Daddy asked. Billy and Jane said,\n\u201cOh yes, Daddy. It\u2019s surely there, because we saw him carry it up, and\nMom was here when he came down. He had it going up, and he didn\u2019t have\nit coming down. It\u2019s surely there.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ve looked everywhere,\u201d he said in a baffled sort of way. \u201cHere,\ncatch Butch,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019m coming down.\u201d\nButch scurried down the drain pipe, disdaining the ladder. Just as\nDaddy was about to start down, he hesitated and turned back for just\none more look.\nHe walked over to where the roof of the porch joined the walls of the\ncottage, and he peered up under the eaves. He squinted his eyes and\nreached up to feel for an opening. Just then there was an angry roaring\nlike the motors of hundreds of tiny airplanes, and Daddy came down the\nladder even faster than Butch had come down the drain pipe. He ran for\nthe front cottage like someone possessed.\n\u201cWasps,\u201d he whooped without slackening his speed or turning his head.\nHe was gone in such a hurry that they all stood gaping after him.\nMr. Landry, who had been strolling down the road, stopped still in\namazement. He took his pipe out of his mouth and said to Mom, \u201cYou\nknow, Mrs. Murray, I didn\u2019t know that a big man like your husband could\nrun that fast.\u201d\n\u201cHe probably did break a record,\u201d Mom said, \u201cbut he was urged on by a\nnest of wasps.\u201d\nThey hurried down to the cottage to find Daddy safe behind the screen\ndoor. His frustrated pursuers had scattered angrily and given up the\nchase.\n\u201cWhew,\u201d he gasped. \u201cI haven\u2019t had so much exercise since the time the\nIndians chased me out of town.\u201d\n\u201cDid the Indians chase you out of town?\u201d asked Davey. \u201cTell us about\nit.\u201d\nDaddy laughed. \u201cI was only fooling,\u201d he said, \u201cbut those wasps weren\u2019t.\nBoy! Did I have a close shave! I tell you what we\u2019ll do. Wait till the\nnext time I come out, and I\u2019ll get set for those man-eating monsters.\nIf there\u2019s a purse up on that roof, I\u2019ll get it down. But--\u201d and he\nwagged his finger all around the porch, \u201cdon\u2019t any of you try to get\nup there while I\u2019m gone. You all saw what almost happened to me. It\u2019s\nmuch too dangerous.\u201d One by one the faces, all solemn now, nodded in\nagreement.\nThe sun slipped down behind the woods on the west shore. Grandma and\nAunt Claire went back to the little cottage to unpack.\n\u201cTell us about the time you were chased by Indians, Daddy,\u201d said the\npersistent David.\n\u201cNo, Dad,\u201d said Jane. \u201cPlease tell us about the deserted house.\u201d\n\u201cDo you really want to hear about the deserted house?\u201d asked Dad,\npulling David off his shoulders. \u201cI think maybe I could tell you a\nstory about that.\u201d\nJanie sat at his feet, and David sat on the arm of his chair. \u201cWell,\u201d\nhe began, \u201cit happened a long time ago. Perhaps sixty or seventy years\nago. You know, Oak Lake is a modest place. It always has been. But,\njust that once, while the Motts lived here it had an air of fashion and\nfrivolity, like stardust sprinkled on bread and butter.\n\u201cThere was a father and a mother, two pretty little girls that always\nwore handmade dresses that were made in Paris, and one son. Mr. Mott\nwas a wealthy man, but he had no desire for the rush and competition of\nthe great cities, so he brought his family here to Oak Lake to live.\nI\u2019ve often thought of how amazed the people around here must have been\nto see that fine mansion rising in their midst. \u2018Mott\u2019s Madness\u2019 they\ncalled it. There were stables with thoroughbred horses and a private\nrace track, and a house full of servants.\n\u201cEven though they were far away from their friends they entertained in\ngrand style. Twice a year they\u2019d have a party, and their guests arrived\nfrom the east in a private car. Why, they even had their own school\nhouse. It was a comfortable two-story building a little distance away\nfrom the main house, and the governess lived in it.\n\u201cThe children used to come there every day to study and to practice.\nOne day the two little girls got off by themselves, and waded out into\nthe lake. They didn\u2019t know how to swim, and they drowned. The governess\nbecame frantic when she heard their cries, and in trying to save them,\nshe drowned. It was terrible. The mother and father grieved so that\nthey never wanted to see Oak Lake again. They packed their things, and\ntook their son with them. They just walked out and never came back.\nEverything is the way they left it. It must be almost fifty years now\nsince they went away, but there are dried roses in a vase in the old\nparlor. There\u2019s an open book on a sofa, left as it was when the reader\nwas interrupted by the cries from the lake. I\u2019m not sure, but I think\nthat the old man who lives there now is their son. He has had a lot of\ntrouble. The family lost all their money. He\u2019s involved in one law suit\nafter the other. It\u2019s no wonder he hates lawyers. After a long time he\ncame back here to live, but he never lived in the big house. He lives\nin the chicken coop.\u201d\nJanie shivered. \u201cOh Daddy, how perfectly awful. Couldn\u2019t someone do\nsomething for him, so he wouldn\u2019t have to live in a chicken coop?\u201d Dad\nsmiled. \u201cFolks have tried to help him,\u201d he said, \u201cbut the old fellow is\nproud and touchy, and he wants to be left alone.\u201d\n\u201cHe sure does,\u201d exclaimed Billy. \u201cI\u2019ll never forget how he chased us\nout of there.\u201d\n\u201cKeep out of his way,\u201d Daddy said. \u201cThat\u2019s the best way to get along\nwith him.\u201d He picked Davey up and carried him to bed. Janie looked at\nMom and drew her brows together.\n\u201cMom,\u201d she said. \u201cDo you suppose that\u2019s one of Dad\u2019s stories, or do you\nsuppose that\u2019s really true?\u201d\nMom cut off the end of her thread. \u201cAs far as I know,\u201d she said, \u201cthat\nwas all absolutely true.\u201d\nAfter a while they wandered back to see how Grandma and Aunt Claire\nwere getting settled. Janie blinked for a moment. The mountainous load\nwas gone and everything was in place.\n\u201cGrandma, you\u2019re a wonder,\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cHow did you get everything\nput away so fast?\u201d\nGrandma was sitting in her rocking chair, crocheting. The bowl of\npansies stood on the table beside her, and her canary chirped over her\nhead. \u201cPetey helped me,\u201d she said, nodding at the canary, \u201cand Aunt\nClaire helped too.\u201d\nAunt Claire was puzzled about the glass of lemonade beside her bed, and\nJane explained.\n\u201cWell, it was like this. I picked the pansies for Grandma\u2019s bedside\nbecause she likes them so much, and Davey felt that he wanted to do\nsomething too. He fixed a glass of lemonade for beside your bed, so\nthat you would have a welcoming present too. I think by now it should\nbe quite stale, but he was happy about it.\u201d\nAunt Claire was touched. \u201cWhy the darling,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019d drink it\ngladly, but there seems to be just a tiny spider web across the top. I\nknow what we\u2019ll do. We\u2019ll use it to water Grandma\u2019s window box. Lemons\nare chock full of vitamins. It should do the geraniums a lot of good.\u201d\nSo, into the geraniums went Davey\u2019s lemonade. All that summer Janie\nnoticed that they did exceptionally well.\n_Chapter Six_\n_Buick, the Detective_\n[Illustration]\nJane sat on the watching post swinging her legs and braiding clover.\nA small truck stopped at the Saunders\u2019 place next door, and Ben, the\nhandy man who did odd jobs for Mrs. Saunders, got out and lugged a lawn\nmower after him.\n\u201cHi, Ben,\u201d called Janie. \u201cIs Mrs. Saunders coming out?\u201d\n\u201cHi there, Janie,\u201d Ben called back, and stopped to get his pipe lit.\n\u201cYep,\u201d he said. \u201cMy wife got a card from Mis\u2019 Saunders just this\nmorning. Says she\u2019s coming out for a few days, and we should cut the\ngrass and tidy the place up a bit. Don\u2019t see what tidying up there\u2019d be\nto do. The place hasn\u2019t been touched. Not a soul in it since last fall\nwhen she was here last, but womenfolks are always drivin\u2019 a man crazy\nby thinking up work. Washing windows, and cuttin\u2019 grass, and dustin\u2019.\nLand sakes, it\u2019s enough to kill a man. And me with my back.\u201d\nDown the embankment he went with the lawn mower whirring in front of\nhim. Janie couldn\u2019t hear what he was saying, but she could still see\nthe scowl on his face.\n\u201cPoor Ben,\u201d she laughed. \u201cIf only he didn\u2019t have to work.\u201d She jumped\noff the watching post, and started off for the garden. \u201cBefore I laugh\nat Ben,\u201d she thought, \u201cI\u2019d better get my own work done.\u201d She weeded\nfour rows of beans, and piled some dry grass cuttings around the base\nof the tomato plants. Then she sat under the mulberry tree and watched\na mother wren dart back and forth feeding her brood on bits of juicy\nred mulberry. \u201cI guess I\u2019ll try one myself,\u201d she thought. She did, but\nit was still tart, and not quite ripe.\n\u201cHelp yourself, Mrs. Wren,\u201d she said. \u201cI hope your babies like them\nbetter than I do.\u201d\nShe wandered back down to the front yard, and held yarn while Grandma\nwound it into balls. When that was finished she changed into her\nswimming suit and sat on the pier until it was time to go swimming.\nDad and Mom insisted on regular swim periods. The children could go in\nbefore lunch in the morning, and again between four and five in the\nafternoon, but they never could go in at odd times by themselves. The\nswimming always had to be supervised by a grownup.\n\u201cYou can\u2019t be too careful,\u201d Dad would always say. \u201cYou only drown once.\u201d\nBen was busy all morning, and about noon Mrs. Saunders arrived. Mom\nsent Janie over.\n\u201cSee if she won\u2019t come over and have lunch with us,\u201d she said.\nMrs. Saunders said \u201cThank you,\u201d but she was expecting company in the\nafternoon, and she had a lot of unpacking to do.\nThe children loved Mrs. Saunders. She was easily the most fabulous\nneighbor that the Murrays ever had. A quiet, gentle widow, she had\ninherited a modest sheaf of stocks and bonds from her late husband, but\nthey weren\u2019t ordinary, dry-as-dust stocks and bonds. She owned part of\na candy factory.\n\u201cCreepers,\u201d Billy exclaimed every time he saw her. \u201cImagine having all\nthe candy you could eat!\u201d\nMrs. Saunders didn\u2019t come to her lake cottage very often, but when she\ndid, she always brought candy. Not suckers or caramels or fudge, but\ncandy bars. Time was when Janie thought that one candy bar was riches,\nbut Mrs. Saunders always brought a carton at a time. Mom shook her head\nas Janie returned, smiling from ear to ear, and carrying the familiar\ncarton.\n\u201cWhoops!\u201d cried the boys, but Mom reached for the box and put it on top\nof the piano.\n\u201cNo, you don\u2019t,\u201d she said. \u201cNot until every plate is clean. Eat your\nvegetables first, and then we\u2019ll see about candy.\u201d\nThey finished their vegetables in record time, and after the dishes\nwere washed they each had a candy bar to eat down under the willow\ntree. Butch licked the wrappers.\nGrandma was taking a nap in the little cottage, and Mom was sitting\ncross-legged on the floor of the porch rubbing sandpaper back and forth\non an old chair. Dad was home that day. He was trying to think, he\nexplained to the children. He\u2019d make awful faces and run his fingers\nthrough his hair. Sometimes his face would light up, and he\u2019d write\nlike fury, and then again he would crumple what he had written into a\nball and throw it on the floor. Mom scratched at the chair.\n\u201cElizabeth,\u201d Dad said. \u201cElizabeth, my dear, dear wife, what are you\ndoing to that chair?\u201d\nShe looked at him through the rungs. \u201cI\u2019m taking the old finish off,\u201d\nshe answered. \u201cI just know that under these layers of paint, it\u2019s\nwalnut or mahogany, or even cherry.\u201d\nDaddy picked up his papers. \u201cElizabeth,\u201d he said. \u201cYou scratch away to\nyour heart\u2019s content. I\u2019m going to do my writing out on the terrace.\u201d\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Mom, looking up. \u201cAm I driving you away?\u201d\nHe made believe he was pulling out his hair. \u201cNo,\u201d he gurgled. \u201cYou\u2019re\ndriving me cr\u2019razy!\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m so sorry, dear,\u201d said Mom and kept on scratching.\nOnce established on the terrace, Daddy stretched his legs and started\nall over again. Buick lay at his feet, sunning himself, and every\nlittle while he edged over and licked Daddy\u2019s hand.\n\u201cGo home, pooch, beat it!\u201d But Buick only wagged his stump of a tail as\nif he had heard the music of angels, and he stayed right there. As a\nmatter of fact, he spent so much time with the Murrays that many people\nweren\u2019t sure whose dog he was.\nThings were like that with the Murrays and the Landrys. It was because\nthey were such good friends. There was a gap in the hedge between the\ntwo back yards that had never been filled in because someone was always\nrunning back and forth. The Murray\u2019s rock garden ran over the lot line\nand into Landry\u2019s yard, and the flowers flourished there as if they\nknew they were welcome. Farther down, the pump stood exactly on the lot\nline and was shared by the two families, and at the water\u2019s edge the\nMurray bathhouse stood cozily, back to back, with the Landry bathhouse.\nBulbs and perennials had been shared and swapped until the gardens\nlooked related, and Mr. Landry\u2019s little grandson, Peter, claimed the\nMurray swing.\nBut this afternoon Buick was really making a nuisance of himself. He\nseemed to want Daddy to get out of his chair and follow him, and poor\nDaddy was trying so hard to write.\n\u201cGo away, go on, get out of here,\u201d he would say. \u201cBeat it or I\u2019ll hit\nyou with a flower pot,\u201d but Buick kept coming back again and again. He\nwould tug at Daddy\u2019s sleeve and then run off a little distance and bark\nin short quick yelps. He kept this up until Daddy finally said, \u201cNow\nlisten to me, I\u2019m not going to get up and play with you. I\u2019m going to\nsit here and write. Go away! Can\u2019t you see I\u2019m a working man?\u201d\nJanie came around the corner just then and she stopped to watch. \u201cWhy,\nDaddy,\u201d she said. \u201cSomething is up. Buick never acts like this. He\nseems to want to tell you something. Let\u2019s follow him and see what he\nwants.\u201d Daddy sighed and put a loose brick on top of his work for a\npaper weight.\n\u201cAll right, all right,\u201d he said. \u201cI may as well. I\u2019ll have no peace or\nrest until I do.\u201d\nBuick dashed up the rock garden steps, and they followed him across\nthe road and into the back lot. He ran under the hedge near the little\ncottage and barked and barked.\n\u201cWhat is it, old fellow?\u201d Daddy asked. \u201cWhat\u2019s the excitement?\u201d\nBuick ran under the hedge again and dug furiously with his short front\npaws. Then he stopped and picked something up in his mouth and hurried\nout and dropped it at Daddy\u2019s feet.\n\u201cThe purse!\u201d Jane cried. \u201cWhy Daddy, that\u2019s the purse that Butchie\nfound in Mrs. Saunders\u2019 junk pile. We thought it was up on the roof.\nHow do you suppose it got under the hedge?\u201d\n\u201cButchie must have buried it there,\u201d said Daddy, turning it over in\nhis hands. \u201cThe sly little rascal didn\u2019t want us to find it, but Buick\noutguessed him.\u201d\n\u201cOpen it! Open it!\u201d Jane cried. \u201cHurry Daddy, I want to see what\u2019s in\nit.\u201d\nDad snapped it open and emptied it into Janie\u2019s outstretched hands.\nIt was filled with jewelry. Beautiful, old fashioned jewelry. There\nwere two gold rings and a brooch and a locket. There was a small gold\nbracelet, such as a child might wear.\n\u201cHm\u2019m\u2019m,\u201d said Daddy. \u201cQuite a little swag that our monkey had tucked\naway.\u201d Janie was almost too surprised to talk.\n\u201cWhy, Daddy,\u201d she said, \u201cthis must belong to Mrs. Saunders. How do you\nsuppose it got tossed out in the junk that way?\u201d\n\u201cI can\u2019t imagine,\u201d Daddy answered. \u201cCome on, let\u2019s go and see what she\nsays.\u201d They hurried over and knocked on the door, but she had gone to\nthe bus station to meet her guests and no one was home.\n\u201cLet\u2019s show it to Mom,\u201d said Janie, as they walked back to their\ncottage.\nMom was amazed. The boys were called in and they stood gaping. Grandma\ncame down after taking her nap and she said, \u201cOh, so that\u2019s what all\nthe barking was about. I wondered what was going on.\u201d\nButchie was terribly excited about finding the purse. He chattered and\ndanced around and stood up and begged in his most persuasive manner.\nWhen he finally saw that he wasn\u2019t going to be allowed to keep his\ntreasure, he just plain sulked. Every one watched for Mrs. Saunders to\ncome home and as soon as her car appeared they all ran over.\nShe was so happy she almost cried. \u201cWhy, bless your hearts!\u201d she kept\nsaying, again and again. Then she sat down and spread the jewelry out\nin her lap. \u201cThey were lost last fall when we were cleaning house,\u201d\nshe explained. \u201cI thought they must have been stolen. I had given\nthem up long ago. They were my mother\u2019s rings and I\u2019ve kept them all\nthese years in remembrance of her. It isn\u2019t that any one of them is\nworth a tremendous amount of money. It\u2019s just because she wore them.\nWhy, I can remember her wearing this garnet brooch just as if it were\nyesterday. It used to nestle in a white frothy ruffle at her throat,\nand when she sang in church it would twinkle like a star. This little\nlocket was mine when I was a baby. Oh! I\u2019m so thankful and so happy\nabout this. How can I ever thank you?\u201d\n\u201cButchie really found it,\u201d Davey said. \u201cHe found it in your trash heap\none day early this summer.\u201d\n\u201cYes, but Buick really deserves the credit,\u201d Janie intervened, \u201cbecause\nif he hadn\u2019t discovered the hiding place, Butchie would never have\ngiven it up, never.\u201d\nMrs. Saunders kissed them all and cried a little, and then she called\nthem into her kitchen. There was a basket of fruit on the table and she\ngave Butch a big shiny banana. Then she went to the icebox and cut the\nbones out of two pieces of steak. \u201cHere,\u201d she said, wrapping them up.\n\u201cGive these to Buick. He\u2019s a fine smart dog. I want each one of you\nchildren to have something too.\u201d She opened her purse and before they\ncould say a word she had given each child a crisp, new one-dollar bill.\n\u201cOh, thank you, Mrs. Saunders,\u201d Janie said. \u201cBut Mom will never let us\nkeep this. I know she won\u2019t.\u201d\n\u201cOh, yes she will!\u201d Mrs. Saunders assured her. \u201cYou\u2019ll never know what\nit means to me to have my mother\u2019s jewelry again, and you were very\ngood children and you\u2019ll need some money for buying firecrackers pretty\nsoon.\u201d They thanked her again and hurried home.\nSure enough, Mom was distressed about so much money, but Grandma\nsaid, \u201cDon\u2019t feel badly about it, Elizabeth. Mrs. Saunders was happy\nto get her purse back and it gave her a lot of satisfaction to be\nable to reward the children. People should be allowed to be a little\nextravagant once in a while. It\u2019s good for them.\u201d\n\u201cWhat are you going to do with your fortune?\u201d Daddy inquired. Janie\nshook her head. \u201cI don\u2019t know yet,\u201d she answered, \u201cexcept that I want\nto spend it all at once and not let it disappear in little dribbles of\nnickels and dimes.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m going to buy some \u2018minnies\u2019 for casting,\u201d Bill said. \u201cI\u2019ve been\nlooking at some in the hardware store.\u201d\nJames declared he was going to spend his for a huge model airplane he\nhad long coveted, and Davey said he was going to give his to Butch.\n\u201cBecause Butch really found the purse,\u201d he said, \u201cand all he got was a\nbanana.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t be silly,\u201d said Janie, \u201cWhat would a monkey do with a dollar\nbill?\u201d But Daddy gave him a hug and said, \u201cThat\u2019s right, Davey. You\ntake good care of Butch.\u201d\nBy four o\u2019clock Aunt Claire\u2019s car came around the bend in the road and\nsharp-eyed James called out, \u201cSomeone is with her, a girl in a white\ndress. I can see her from here.\u201d\n\u201cIt\u2019s Katy,\u201d cried Jane, jumping up and down for joy. \u201cIt\u2019s Katy. It\u2019s\nKatherine Pelt.\u201d\nThe car stopped in the back yard and Billy took Katherine\u2019s suitcase\nand Janie gave her a quick hug.\nKaty was well liked by the Murray children. She was a little older\nthan Janie, small, slim, and dark. The youngest child in a family\nof six, she was what Daddy called \u201cwell socialized.\u201d She was quiet\nwithout being shy, jolly without being boisterous, and she never made a\nnuisance of herself.\n\u201cWhat in the world do you have in that big package?\u201d asked Janie. Katy\nsmiled. \u201cA chicken,\u201d she said. \u201cFrom my mother to your mother.\u201d\n\u201cHurray!\u201d cried Billy, and David and James began to chant:\n  \u201cKaty brought a chick-en,\n   Katy brought a chick-en.\u201d\nThe little procession came down through the rock garden to the cottage\nporch. Aunt Claire was amazed to hear about Mrs. Saunders\u2019 purse and\nshe was eager to tell Grandma and Mom all that she had seen and heard\nin town. Jane took Katy to her room, and then they raced for the\nbathhouse to get into their swimming suits. Daddy and the boys came\nswimming too, and the boys all but stood on their heads in order to\nimpress the visitor. Mom and Aunt Claire came out to the raft and there\nwas a lot of shouting and leaping and calling back and forth.\nJanie rested by floating on her back. Swimming in the same lake with\nthe boys was enough to make any one want to rest. They were like seals,\nin and out constantly, diving, splashing and churning the water to a\nfroth with their antics. Billy dove and swam as effortlessly as a fish.\nAngular James cut through the water swiftly, but his diving wasn\u2019t as\naccomplished as that of his older brother. Davey was the prize. He\nstill swam \u201cdog-fashion,\u201d and panting and dripping he would wriggle his\nway up on the raft and shout: \u201cWatch me, fellows! I\u2019m going to jump\noff.\u201d He would close his eyes, grasp his nose with one hand, and then\nlifting the other arm high over his head and flexing his knees he would\ngive a mighty leap into the air and land with a splash that would all\nbut take his breath away. One or two performances of that kind would\nexhaust a grown person, but not Davey. He would leap in and out of the\nwater for an hour at a time, and then say, \u201cDo I hafta?\u201d when it came\ntime for them to go in.\nKaty and Jane slept in the big double bed in the corner bedroom that\nnight. There was so much to talk about. Katy had just returned from\na trip through New England and when she described the Witch House at\nSalem, Janie held her breath and shivered.\n\u201cKaty! Weren\u2019t you afraid to go in there?\u201d\n\u201cNo, not in the beginning. It looked just like any other old house. Our\nguide opened a door and led us down a dark, narrow stairway. I didn\u2019t\nlike it very well, but it was too late to change my mind, because there\nwasn\u2019t room to turn around. The stairway led to the dungeon where the\nwitches were kept before they were hanged. It was a big dark cellar\nroom lighted by one small barred window. Br\u2019r\u2019rr, I got back up those\nstairs again as fast as I could.\u201d\n\u201cBut Katy, how could anyone be so silly as to believe in witches? I\u2019ve\nalways thought a witch was a Hallowe\u2019en decoration.\u201d\n\u201cPeople used to believe in witches long ago. The trouble in Salem\nstarted with Tituba, a slave girl, telling stories to some little\ngirls. She told tales of voodoo and black magic, and she must have\nfrightened the children half out of their wits, because when bedtime\ncame they shuddered and screamed and saw things in dark corners. The\nvillage doctor was called and he said they were bewitched.\u201d\n\u201cBut why?\u201d asked Janie. \u201cHow could he tell?\u201d\n\u201cI don\u2019t know, except that he could see that they didn\u2019t have measles\nor mumps or anything of that sort, and I suppose he just had to think\nof something in order to earn his fee. The naughty little girls enjoyed\nbeing the center of attention, and when they were questioned they\naccused Tituba of being a witch, and she was tried and hanged.\u201d\n\u201cOh! How perfectly awful.\u201d\n\u201cYes, but that wasn\u2019t all. The story spread and belief in witchcraft\ngrew until there wasn\u2019t an old lady in Salem who was safe. Even the\nwife of a minister was accused. When the governor\u2019s wife was suspected\nthe trials came to an end, but not until nineteen persons had been\nhanged on Gallows Hill and two died in prison.\u201d\n\u201cKaty,\u201d quavered Jane. \u201cTurn on the light, and don\u2019t let\u2019s talk about\nit any more.\u201d\nKaty reached for the light switch, and the familiar room clicked into\nview.\n\u201cNow,\u201d said Janie, propping up her pillows, \u201ctell me how you make those\nlittle pin curls you have all across the top of your head.\u201d\nAbout ten o\u2019clock Mom opened the door a crack and looked them over. \u201cI\nknow you\u2019re both sound asleep,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd I know you wouldn\u2019t be\ninterested, but just in case you should be awake, there\u2019s a bottle of\ncold root beer in the refrigerator.\u201d They tumbled out of bed, giggling\nand paraded to the kitchen.\nGrandma and Aunt Claire said \u201cgood night\u201d and started back to the\nlittle cottage. Mom turned off the porch lights. They sat in darkness\nwatching the shadows and the bright moonlight on the lawn and on the\nlake. There was no sound but the whispering of the poplar leaves and\nthe gentle slapping of the waves against the shore. Janie leaned back\nin the wicker rocking chair and sipped her root beer. Strains of\n\u201c_Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream_\u201d seemed to float down through the silver\nnight. She wiggled her toes in ecstasy. \u201cIt seems a shame to waste a\nnight like this sleeping,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019d like to walk forever in the\ndew and the moonlight.\u201d\nKaty broke the spell. She had a deep, sturdy voice, strangely out of\nplace in her slim little body and pixie face. \u201cYou\u2019d probably step on a\nfrog,\u201d she said, and they all laughed.\n\u201cRinse out your glasses and run to bed like good children,\u201d said Mom.\n\u201cThere\u2019s going to be a lot of planning to do in the morning. Do you\nrealize that the Fourth of July is only a week off?\u201d\n\u201cOoooooooh!\u201d Janie squealed, giving her mother a big hug. \u201cI like the\nFourth of July almost as much as Christmas.\u201d Good nights were whispered\nonce more and in a little while everyone was fast asleep.\nJames woke the family by falling out of bed. He gave out a roar of\nindignation and began to beat Billy, who by this time was only half\nawake. \u201cYou pushed me!\u201d he cried. \u201cYou kicked me out of bed.\u201d Billy\nblinked and rolled to the other side of the bed to avoid a pillow in\nthe face. Suddenly James stopped dead. He looked astonished and then he\nburst out laughing. He laughed so that he bent over double and held his\nsides.\n\u201cYou didn\u2019t kick me out of bed,\u201d he gasped. \u201cI dreamed I was riding a\nhorse and the horse kicked me, and I guess I just woke up now.\u201d\nMom called from the foot of the stairs. \u201cIf you boys are going to have\na roughhouse, I wish you\u2019d have it out on the lawn.\u201d\n\u201cI was only dreaming,\u201d James called down. Mrs. Murray sighed. \u201cIf that\nwas only a dream,\u201d she said, \u201cmay heaven preserve us when you get a\nnightmare.\u201d\nDavey wandered out in his pajamas and inquired if any one had seen his\nshoes. \u201cButchie had them last,\u201d he said. \u201cHe hid them before I went to\nbed last night.\u201d\nKaty poked Jane in the ribs and Jane dug her head deep into her pillow.\n\u201cLet\u2019s ask your Mother if we can go in swimming before breakfast. Wake\nup, sleepy head.\u201d She reached down and tickled the toes of her sleepy\nvictim. With a shriek, Janie was on her feet and wide awake.... The\nMurrays were off on another day.\nSwimming was perfect. The lake was calm as a pond and just cool enough\nto be bracing. They came in when Mom called \u201cBreakfast,\u201d and raced for\nthe bathhouse, leaving wet foot prints on the boards of the pier. They\nrubbed each others\u2019 backs vigorously with the big rough towels and ran\na comb through their damp curls. \u201cI wish it would be summer all the\nyear round,\u201d said Jane, as she slipped her bare feet into play shoes.\nShe wore a blue cotton skirt and a white blouse. \u201cThese are the kind of\nclothes I like.\u201d\n\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d said Katherine reasonably. \u201cI like a change. My brother\nJim lived in the tropics for two years, and he says that summer all\nthe year round can be very monotonous. I like to bundle up and go\ntobogganing in the winter, and I like to dress up in a pretty suit and\nhat for Easter.\u201d\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Janie, \u201cI suppose you\u2019re right.\u201d They hung their towels to\ndry and walked up to the cottage for breakfast.\nAunt Claire was squeezing orange juice and she looked up as the girls\ncame in. \u201cThere\u2019s something down at the farmers\u2019 that might interest\nyou,\u201d she said. \u201cI took a walk this morning before breakfast, and\nyou know that old brown cow he\u2019s had in the front pasture? Well, she\nhas a calf, newly born. It has clean, soft fur like a baby deer, and\nbeautiful big brown eyes, and very wobbly legs.\u201d\nThe children were delighted and right after breakfast they all trooped\ndown the road to inspect the new arrival. Old mother cow stood\npatiently chewing grass while they hung over the rail and admired her\nbaby.\n\u201cAw, look at him,\u201d murmured Billy. \u201cIsn\u2019t he cute? I wish I could go in\nthere and stroke him.\u201d\n\u201cOh no, you don\u2019t,\u201d said Janie. \u201cThat\u2019s why they have glass partitions\nin nurseries. Look, but mustn\u2019t touch.\u201d\nIt was James who saw him first. He glanced down the road and then\ngrabbed Janie by the arm. \u201cLook,\u201d he squeaked. \u201cThere he is.... Here he\ncomes.... That man!\u201d They all turned, and there, trudging up the road\ntoward them, was the big, dirty old man who had chased them off his lot\nthe day they caught \u201cold rubber-back.\u201d\n\u201cOh boy!\u201d said Billy, \u201cLet\u2019s run!\u201d\n\u201cWe can\u2019t run home,\u201d said James. \u201cWe\u2019d have to pass him. Let\u2019s cut\ndown through the lower lot and then go home along the shore.\u201d They\nducked across the road and then slid down the steep bank that led to\nthe lower lot. By running along one side of a hedge they kept out of\nsight until they reached the lake shore, and there they stopped for\na moment and took off their shoes and socks. After they caught their\nbreath they waded home in the shallow water.\n\u201cAre you kids crazy?\u201d asked Katherine. \u201cWhy do you have to run like\nIndians when you see that man?\u201d\n\u201cHe chased us one day, and threatened to give us a licking just because\nwe took a drink out of his old well,\u201d said Bill. \u201cMom said we should be\nkind to him because he had a lot of trouble, but we\u2019re just going to\nkeep far, far away from him. He\u2019s an old crank.\u201d\nThey sat on their own pier when they reached home and dried their feet\nin the sun. Mom called from the cottage, \u201cDoes anyone want to ride\nalong? We\u2019re going over to Deerpath and do some shopping.\u201d\n\u201cOh happy day!\u201d cried Janie, and she raced ahead of Katy and the boys.\nShe ran to her room and picked up her piggy bank. By inserting the\nblade of a smooth table knife and by skillful shaking, she extracted\none smooth, new paper dollar, a nickel, and three pennies. \u201cMy\nfortune,\u201d she announced proudly. \u201cI\u2019m going to buy fire crackers.\u201d\n_Chapter Seven_\n_A Trip to Deerpath_\n[Illustration]\n\u201cI don\u2019t know where we\u2019re going to put all of you,\u201d laughed Aunt\nClaire. \u201cI think this car was originally intended to hold five\npassengers.\u201d\nGrandma got in first, and seated herself comfortably in the back. Billy\nand Katherine ranged themselves beside her on the seat, and James came\npanting up at the last minute, carrying a stool and a cushion, so that\nhe could sit on the floor. Grandma counted heads.\n\u201cWhere\u2019s Davey?\u201d she asked. \u201cEverybody\u2019s here but Davey.\u201d\nJust as they called him he came trudging up the steps of the rock\ngarden, carrying Butch. Butch was wearing his best suit, red trousers\nwith a bright, yellow cotton blouse, and a little bright red hat cocked\nover one eye.\nMom groaned. \u201cOh, Davey,\u201d she said, \u201cwhy do you have to bring him\nalong? We\u2019re crowded, and he\u2019s so hard to take care of when we get to\nDeerpath. Don\u2019t you remember all the trouble we had the last time you\ntook him along? Do you remember how he got away from you and started\nthrowing lemons and oranges around in the store?\u201d\nButch put both hands to his heart in an attitude of prayerful entreaty.\nEveryone laughed, even Mom.\n\u201cWell, all right this time,\u201d she said, \u201cbut never again.\u201d\nDavey settled down blissfully on Grandma\u2019s lap, and Butch sat on\nDavey\u2019s lap. They looked like a happy three-layer banana cake.\nAll the way to Deerpath they played White Horse. They were divided into\ntwo teams, one for each side of the road. The object was to find white\nhorses and count them. The team with the highest score won. However, if\nthe car passed a cemetery, the team on the same side of the road as the\ncemetery forfeited its entire score.\nJanie was captain of one team, and Billy was captain of the other. The\nhunting wasn\u2019t very good as they drove along. It seemed that all the\nhorses were far back in the fields working. Janie had a score of 3 and\nBilly had 2 when they reached the top of a hill just at the outskirts\nof the village.\n\u201cCemetery!\u201d called Aunt Claire, and Billy\u2019s team lost its score.\nJanie was jubilant. \u201cWe won! We won!\u201d she exulted. But, Grandma, buried\nunder Davey and Butch, spied victory walking down the road toward them.\n\u201cLook what\u2019s coming,\u201d she cried. \u201cTwo white horses pulling a load of\nhay.\u201d\n\u201cOh yes,\u201d said James. \u201cBut that only gives your side two, and we have\nthree.\u201d\n\u201cLook what\u2019s following,\u201d said Grandma smugly. Hitched to the rear of\nthe load were two of the whitest horses you ever saw. There were loud\ncheers from Billy\u2019s team as they pulled up in front of the village\nstore.\nJanie was patronizing. \u201cYou were just lucky,\u201d she said. \u201cThat wouldn\u2019t\nhappen again in a hundred years.\u201d\nGrandma was the last to crawl out of the car. She shook out her skirts\nruefully. \u201cAnd to think,\u201d she said, \u201cthat I pressed this dress just\nbefore I started out.\u201d\nThey split up in groups to do the shopping. The boys made straight\nfor the hardware store that sold fishing supplies. They didn\u2019t\nbuy anything very often, but they would stand for hours in wistful\nadmiration.\nThe girls went to the drug store to buy picture postcards to send home\nto Katy\u2019s folks, and Mom and Aunt Claire went to the grocery store.\nGrandma, Davey, and Butch started off down the block to a large\nold-fashioned country store that sold odd lots of almost everything\nimaginable. You could buy anything from nuts and bolts to flowered\nchintz. You could buy rubber boots, embroidery cotton, lemon squeezers,\nand imitation Christmas trees, and sometimes they would all be piled up\non one counter.\nMr. Seaman, the proprietor, remembered Grandma from other summers and\nwelcomed her as an old friend.\n\u201cHow do you do, Mrs. Murray,\u201d he said. \u201cHow have you been all winter,\nand how is your son and his wife? We have a nice stock of white nurses\u2019\noxfords that you might like.\u201d\n\u201cNo, Mr. Seaman,\u201d said Grandma politely. \u201cI\u2019d like to see some oilcloth\nfor the kitchen shelves.\u201d\n\u201cWe have that too,\u201d he said, and led her over to the other side of the\nstore.\nDavid stood before a mirror and tried on winter caps such as farmers\nwear doing chores. They were all much too large for him, and as he\ndiscarded them, one by one, Butch would try them on his head, and then\nthrow them on the floor. Grandma looked around and soon put a stop to\ntheir foolishness.\nMr. Seaman wrapped her packages, and they started back down the street\nto the drug store. If the Murrays separated in Deerpath, it was never\nfor long. They always met by common consent at the soda fountain. Billy\nand James got there first, and they were sitting in a booth reading\na comic book and waiting for the others. Just after Grandma walked\nin with David and Butch, Janie and Katherine arrived. Janie seemed\ndisappointed.\n\u201cWe\u2019ve looked all over, and they don\u2019t seem to have any fireworks this\nyear.\u201d\nBilly waved his hand, as if by that gesture to banish all her\ndifficulties. \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d he promised. \u201cI know where they sell them.\nIt\u2019s a wayside stand on the way home. I\u2019ll get some for you.\u201d\n\u201cOh good.\u201d Janie looked relieved. \u201cI was beginning to worry.\u201d\nMom and Aunt Claire wandered in just then, and Mrs. Skinner came over\nto take their order. James had a dish of strawberry ice. Davey wanted a\nchocolate ice-cream cone. Billy ordered a vanilla cone with chocolate\n\u201cjimmies\u201d sprinkled all over the top. Katy had root beer and Janie had\na coke. Grandma wanted root beer, and Mom and Aunt Claire had sodas.\nAfter everyone had ordered, Davey ran over next to Mom and whispered\nin her ear. She nodded and gave him a penny. He took it over to the\ncounter, and offered it to Mrs. Skinner.\n\u201cPlease, Mrs. Skinner,\u201d he said. \u201cMay I have a sucker for my monkey?\u201d\nThe ride home was complicated with the addition of a great many\npackages. Mom seemed to have bought enough supplies to feed even the\nhungry Murrays for a week. The amiable little car took a deep breath\nand expanded to hold them all.\nBilly kept a lookout for the roadside stand he remembered from the year\nbefore. \u201cIt\u2019s just beyond the second turn in the road,\u201d he said, \u201cafter\nwe pass the farmhouse where we buy currants.\u201d There it stood, just as\nhe said. The farmer was out tacking red, white, and blue bunting to the\nposts as they stopped the car.\n\u201cYes I have fireworks,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m just unpacking them. If you folks\nwill wait a while, I\u2019ll bring the packages down and you\u2019ll be the first\nto make a selection.\u201d He went back to the farmhouse, and in a short\ntime returned with his arms full of bundles. Billy and James helped\nhim unfasten strings, and then the beautiful and colorful display lay\nbefore them.\nIt was hard to choose. Billy decided upon salutes, giraffe crackers,\nand one Roman candle. James hunted around for his favorite brand, that\ncame in a long narrow box. They were smaller than giraffe crackers, but\nthey were packed much tighter, and they made a much louder explosion.\nKaty bought lady-crackers quickly and quietly, while David was still\nspreading out his pennies. Jane was torn between skyrockets, which were\nflamboyant and expensive, and the more conservative lady-crackers.\nShe stood on one foot and then on the other. Finally, she bought one\nskyrocket and two packages of lady-crackers.\nDavey came back to the car beaming. He had two packages of giraffe\ncrackers and some pin wheels and a flower pot. He was feeling very\nadult.\n\u201cGoodness,\u201d said Aunt Claire, as she looked over his assortment.\n\u201cYou\u2019ll blow us to kingdom come!\u201d\nOnce more they started off for home. Just as they were about to turn\noff the main highway, Billy leaned out of the window and shouted and\nwaved at a passenger car. It was Hoyer, he explained, and the Byrnes\ntwins and Johnny Engelhardt. \u201cThey\u2019re all kids in my class,\u201d he added.\n\u201cThey\u2019re probably going out to Harwood\u2019s.\u201d\nEveryone helped to unload the car when they reached the cottage gate.\nAs soon as the perishable food was put away Mom sat down at the table\nwith Grandma and Aunt Claire and began to talk over plans for the\nweek-end holiday.\n\u201cIt\u2019s rather hard to plan exactly,\u201d she said, \u201cbecause you never know\nwho is coming.\u201d\n\u201cPshaw,\u201d said Grandma calmly. \u201cJust have a lot. If we have fine\nweather, plenty of food, and good friends gathered around, the party is\na success before it starts.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d Mom agreed, \u201cand that removes all my uncertainties\nexcept the weather.\u201d\nThere was a pleasant prickly feeling of anticipation in the air. The\nchildren were very well behaved. Janie didn\u2019t lose her temper, and\nBilly didn\u2019t tease. James was rumored to have been seen with a dish\ntowel in his hand after meals, and Davey trotted around like a little\nlamb. Even Butchie declared a short truce. He was quiet and good.\nThursday was the Fourth of July, and all day Wednesday the Murrays\nraked and weeded and polished and cleaned. Daddy arrived at sundown and\nwas greeted with joy. Aunt Claire had baked homemade bread, and Mom\nhad baked cakes. Davey had decorated the lake front with flags, and\nthe boys were most anxious to show their father a long picnic table\nthey had set up on the terrace. Daddy held his arms up in the air and\nlaughed at their eagerness.\n\u201cOne at a time, boys,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll have to have something to eat\nbefore I start out on this tour of review. I\u2019ve been so busy all day\nthat I haven\u2019t had a bite since breakfast.\u201d\nIn a little while he walked around and admired everything. \u201cYou\ncertainly have worked hard, and you\u2019ve been very good children,\u201d he\nsaid. \u201cAnd, because you\u2019ve been so good, I\u2019m going to take you over to\nthe firecracker stand and buy you some firecrackers.\u201d\nThe response to this sounded like a football game, and looked like one\ntoo, for that matter. Poor Daddy was literally overwhelmed. Everyone\ntried to hug him at once, and he fell to the ground with them in a\nlaughing, whirling nigger-pile.\n\u201cHey, Mom,\u201d he called. \u201cGet me out of this. These kids are too much\nfor me.\u201d They pulled him to his feet and brushed him off. Mom waved to\nthem as they started away. \u201cDon\u2019t be too long,\u201d she said. \u201cRemember,\ntomorrow is a big day.\u201d\nThey were home again by eight o\u2019clock, and in bed by nine. In spite of\nthe excitement, they were quiet, and they soon fell asleep. When Mom\ncame in to check up before her bed time, she smiled to see Billy fast\nasleep with a string tied to his wrist. It stretched across to the\nother side of the room, where it was securely tied to Davey\u2019s toe. They\nhad their firecrackers neatly stacked under their beds.\nMom called Grandma and Daddy and Aunt Claire, and they tiptoed up\nstairs. Daddy laughed and marveled at the plan.\n\u201cGood night, folks,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019d better sleep while we can.\nSomething tells me that it\u2019s going to be noisy around here tomorrow\nmorning.\u201d\n_Chapter Eight_\n_The Fourth Was Full of Fun_\n[Illustration]\nIt was.\nIt sounded like the third day of the battle of Gettysburg. Giraffe\ncrackers and salutes were crashing on all sides. Nigger-chasers danced\nacross the pavement of the terrace with a staccato ticktacktoe. All\nover the lake people were celebrating. Flags were flying, and there was\nthe intermittent pop and boom of firecrackers all the way from Hawk\nPoint around to Poplar Bay.\nKaty and Jane were sitting on the front steps, watching the boys.\nThey\u2019d put their hands over their ears and run whenever Billy would\ntouch off a big one. James was barefooted and still wearing his pajama\npants when Mom came out, and Davey wore his good trousers.\n\u201cBack in the house with you,\u201d ordered Mom. \u201cGet dressed and washed, and\nsit down to the table and eat breakfast. The company will start coming\npretty soon, and I want everyone all cleaned up, and the porch cleared\noff before they get here.\u201d\nBreakfast was wonderful. Waffles with maple syrup and honey. Bacon\ncurls, and melons with raspberries heaped in their scooped out centers.\nGrandma poured coffee out of a shining bubbling percolator, and the\nchildren had cold chocolate milk.\nButchie was having a fine time. He loved noise and excitement. He\nwasn\u2019t the least bit afraid of the firecrackers, but he had seen the\ngirls put their hands over their ears, and, mimic that he was, he\nimitated them.\nBy ten o\u2019clock the first car load of company arrived.\n\u201cIt\u2019s Uncle George,\u201d called Billy, \u201cand he\u2019s carrying a watermelon.\nThe Davises are with him too. Here comes Grandma Davis and Dorothy and\nLouise. Margy and the baby came too.\u201d\nThe Davises were Mom\u2019s family. They didn\u2019t share the Murray boys\u2019\nenthusiasm for collecting frogs, but they all played a good game of\nbase ball, even Grandma Davis.\nJanie reached joyfully for the baby, as the Davis girls emerged from\nthe car. They had swimming suits and base ball bats and cameras and sun\nglasses.\nLouise made a beeline for the bathhouse. \u201cI\u2019ve been waiting for this\nall week,\u201d she announced. \u201cI\u2019m going to swim all day.\u201d\nDorothy called to Billy and James. \u201cOne of the men at the office won a\ncase of soda pop,\u201d she said, \u201cand he gave it to me. It\u2019s in the trunk\nof the car. Would you like to help me carry it down?\u201d\nJames\u2019 eyes popped, and his voice rose to a shriek, the way it always\ndid when he got excited:\n\u201cA case of soda pop! Great hopping catfish!... A whole case? The most\nI ever had at one time was the day we went to the wedding, and Uncle\nGeorge gave me a whole bottle.\u201d\nMargie and Mom installed the baby in the tea cart. By removing the\nglass tray at the top, and lining the inner compartment with pillows,\nit became a fine emergency baby carriage.\n\u201cWhy, I can remember when you used to sit in here,\u201d said Mom to Katy.\nMargie turned to Jane. \u201cI can remember when you used to ride in the\ntea cart, too. You were fat and bald and sassy.\u201d Janie turned pink and\nlaughed.\n\u201cWell,\u201d she admitted. \u201cI\u2019m still sassy.\u201d\nThe neighbors had company, too. There were three cars parked in\nLandry\u2019s back lot. There must have been thirty people over at Williams.\nThere was a badminton game and horseshoe pitching going on in their\nlower lot, and young folks in pretty bright clothes were sitting around\non the lawn near the house. The crackling of the fireworks kept up. The\nsun shone bright and the breeze was cool. It was a lovely day.\nMargie didn\u2019t want to go swimming with the others, because she couldn\u2019t\nleave the baby, but Janie had an idea.\n\u201cGrandma,\u201d she said. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you wear a big hat, and come out as far\nas the raft in the boat? We\u2019d row you out, and you could hold the baby\non your lap. Then Margy could swim with us, and both you and the baby\nwould be close by and you wouldn\u2019t miss any of the fun.\u201d\n\u201cWhy, I\u2019d be glad to, if Margy would trust me with her baby,\u201d exclaimed\nGrandma.\nMargy laughed. \u201cAfter all the babies you\u2019ve held in your day? I should\nsay I trust you.\u201d\nEveryone went swimming. They had races and they tried all sorts of\nstunts. The baby was very excited and happy. She squirmed and gurgled\nand clapped her hands. Uncle George swam over next to the boat and\ncalled up to her,\n\u201cHi, sweetheart!\u201d\nShe gave a quick lurch, and as fast as the wink of an eye, she was\noverboard and in the water. Grandma gasped, but Uncle George caught her\nfirmly by the hem of her little white dress when her body was just at\nwater level. Her arms and legs paddled as naturally as a tadpole. She\nsplashed and squealed in her new found element.\n\u201cAnyone can see,\u201d said Uncle George, \u201cthat she\u2019s a cousin of the\nMurrays.\u201d\nGrandma Davis was afraid of getting her shoulders sunburned, and she\nwas the first one out of the water. One by one, and two by two, the\ngrownups followed her until only the children were left, and they were\nthe last to leave the raft.\nThe baby was given a quick rubdown and some dry clothes. Then she was\nfed her own private lunch of mashed banana and spinach and milk, and\nshe was put to bed for her nap.\nThe Hansens came, Bob and Dorothy, and their browneyed youngster.\nThe men sat down at the lake front and talked in their deep rumbling\nvoices. The ladies dashed about in a pleasant sort of flurry, getting\nthe dinner ready. Grandma made coffee in the picnic coffee pot. It held\ntwo gallons of coffee. It smelled of picnics and hikes and wood fires.\nJanie never drank coffee, but she loved the memories of a sniff of the\nfat old coffee pot.\nDorothy and Louise cut cakes and shook fancy salads out of star-shaped\nmolds. Aunt Claire sliced homemade bread and arranged some of her\ncrisp, pungent dill pickles on a tray. Margy cut ham, and Mom opened\nthe oven door now and then to look at a huge roasting pan full of brown\nbaked beans. James stuck his nose against the screen door.\n\u201cMom,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m hungry.\u201d\n\u201cIn just a minute, chum,\u201d said Louise. \u201cI\u2019m about ready to call you\nin.\u201d As soon as she called the children hurried in, picked up their\nheaped up plates, and took them to the terrace. Here they ate and\ngabbled to their hearts\u2019 content while the grownups stayed on the porch.\nAfter dinner James took a book and two bottles of pop and disappeared.\n\u201cI know where he is,\u201d said Bill. \u201cWhenever he gets it into his head\nthat he wants to be alone, he climbs up the rain spout at the back of\nthe cottage and lies on the roof. It\u2019s shady there and no one can find\nhim. Daddy always says that James is the family genius. I think he\u2019s\ncrazy.\u201d\nJanie laughed. \u201cThey both mean the same thing,\u201d she said, flippantly.\nDavid and Billy volunteered to burn all the used paper dishes, and as\nsoon as this was done tireless Davey demanded:\n\u201cWhen are we going swimming?\u201d\n\u201cYou just finished eating,\u201d Mom answered. \u201cNot for two hours, at least.\u201d\n\u201cThen let\u2019s play ball.\u201d\n\u201cWhew! Why don\u2019t we hitch you up to a power plant? You know, Davey,\u201d\nshe said, \u201cthese people have just had their dinner, and they couldn\u2019t\nrun from one base to another if they tried. Better wait a little while.\u201d\nNot at all cast down, Davey retired to the pier and shot off\nfirecrackers. He would light them, and then toss them into the water.\nSometimes the water would put them out, but almost always he would\nhear a dull plop, and see a small geyser rise up at the scene of the\nexplosion.\nThe Landrys were down at the lake front, watching a sailboat race, and\nDavey called out to them.\n\u201cWhere\u2019s Buick, Mrs. Landry? I haven\u2019t seen him all day.\u201d\nMrs. Landry shook her head and smiled. \u201cPoor Buick,\u201d she said. \u201cHe\u2019s\nhaving a bad time of it. He\u2019s on the floor in the farthest corner of my\nclothes closet with an overcoat over his head.\u201d\n\u201cWhat\u2019s the matter with him?\u201d asked David in alarm. \u201cIs he sick?\u201d\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Mrs. Landry. \u201cHe\u2019s scared to death of firecrackers.\u201d\nThe ladies were sitting on the terrace, playing with the baby and\nadmiring her tricks, when suddenly there was a scraping noise, then a\nshriek, and James, all whirling arms and legs, descended amongst them.\nWhat had been a peaceful family gathering turned into the wildest\nconfusion. Dad picked him up and carried him into the cottage. He was\nconscious, but he was pale and shaken. His lips were blue.\n\u201cMy arm,\u201d he said. \u201cIt hurts.\u201d\nDad felt the arm swiftly, and scrutinized it carefully.\n\u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s broken,\u201d he said. \u201cBut it should be, with the fall\nyou had. Where did you come from, anyway? Were you up in the tree, or\ndid you drop out of a passing airplane?\u201d\n\u201cNo,\u201d said James. \u201cI was up on the roof. It slants there at the corner,\nand I must have fallen asleep, and dropped off.\u201d\n\u201cYou dropped right into our laps,\u201d said Mom. \u201cThank heaven you\u2019re safe.\u201d\nAunt Claire made a splint out of the top of a small cheese box, and\nthey wrapped up the injured arm temporarily.\n\u201cIt will be hard to find a doctor today,\u201d Dad said. \u201cThey\u2019re all away\nfrom their offices for the holiday. By the way, James, there seems to\nbe some special connection between doctors and holidays for you. You\nwere born on Easter. You had measles one Christmas, and whooping cough\nthe next, and now you come flying off the roof on the Fourth of July.\u201d\nThey tried to reach Dr. Russell, but he wasn\u2019t in. They finally reached\nDr. Cordes in Deerpath.\n\u201cFrom your description,\u201d he said, \u201cit isn\u2019t broken. Put him to bed, and\nkeep him quiet. I\u2019ll drop over to see him in the morning.\u201d\nJames smiled at the news, and made a small face.\nDavey was relieved. \u201cNow,\u201d he demanded. \u201c_Now_ can we play ball?\u201d\nEveryone laughed, and the tension was broken. Grandma sat with James,\nand rocked and talked to him quietly. The others trooped out to the\nback yard for a ball game. Sides were chosen, and Uncle George bawled\nout, in the style of a big league umpire: \u201cPLAY BALL!\u201d\nGrandma Davis made the first home run, and Mom sat on the side lines,\nfanning herself. \u201cCount me out,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019ve had a busy day.\u201d\nThey batted and ran and stole bases, and cheered for their teammates.\nThey grew warm and dirty, and consumed quarts of soda pop, but they had\nglorious fun. At six o\u2019clock they all trooped down to the lake for a\nswim before supper.\nJames had milk toast. He still looked pale and interesting, with one\narm stiff and fat in a sling.\n\u201cI know why you fell off the roof,\u201d said Billy, peeking in the door.\n\u201cI\u2019ll bet you lost your balance because you were so full of soda pop!\u201d\nAfter supper Dad played the piano, and they all gathered around to\nsing. They sang cowboy songs: _Red River Valley_, and _Oh Bury Me Not_.\nThey sang sentimental ballads and negro spirituals. Dad\u2019s fingers ran\neasily from one familiar melody to the next. \u201cHow about the _Star\nSpangled Banner_,\u201d he asked. They all joined in, even James from his\nbed, and the baby from the tea cart. Just as the sun sank behind the\ntrees, he turned to Margy and played the opening bars of _Now The Day\nis Over_. Her sweet voice rose strong and clear. Everyone was quiet and\nlistened to her. The birds twittered, and it was getting dark.\n\u201cThat was beautiful,\u201d said Janie. \u201cThat was the nicest song of all.\u201d\nThe popping and crackling of firecrackers had been going on all day,\nand now that it was dark, splashes of beautifully colored light\nappeared in the sky on all sides.\n\u201cThe skyrockets are starting,\u201d cried Bill, and everyone ran down to the\nlake front to watch. James had fallen asleep, so Mom closed his door\nand tiptoed off.\nIt was a beautiful night. The sky was dark blue, and far over across\nthe lake someone had started a bonfire. It was yellow and orange\nagainst the darkness. The children lit sparklers, and carried one in\neach hand as they danced like fireflies on the lawn.\nOne by one, Daddy would help them shoot off their skyrockets. He would\nfasten them to a tree, and touch the wick with a match. They held their\nbreath as the rocket swept up, up, and up. Whee--eee--eee! Then the\ngiant bubble would burst, and great colored stars would float upon the\nnight.\nDavey craned his neck, and held Grandma\u2019s hand. With all his heart he\nwished that just one star would float down within his grasp, but they\nvanished like soap bubbles. Just as one fiery arc would disappear,\nanother would take its place. There were pin wheels whirling their\nlight from posts and trees, and now and then they could hear the swift\nwhoosh and flare of a Roman candle. Katy and Jane lay far out on the\npier and watched the display.\nGradually the night grew dark again, and the folks went back to the\nporch. Good nights and good-bys were said. The sleeping baby, the empty\ncake dishes, and the rattling pop bottles were tucked into the car, and\nthe Davises went back to town.\nJanie lay awake until it was very late. The young folks next door were\ndancing on their front porch. Someone played an accordion, and it was\npleasant lying there in the darkness, half awake, listening. The music\nfaded away. The dancers called out their good nights and went home. The\nlights went out, and the Fourth of July was almost over. Janie fell\nasleep.\nBuick emerged from under Landry\u2019s porch, and looked around warily. It\nwas very quiet. The battle was over. He shook himself and stretched,\nand then trotted down to the lake front and lapped the cool water.\n_Chapter Nine_\n_Billy Battles the Storm_\n[Illustration]\nThe day after the Fourth of July was clean-up day, and Billy and Davey\ncleaned the yard. The lawn was littered with scraps of firecrackers,\nand Davey always stopped to examine them in the hopes that he would\nfind a good one. Butch hopped along with them, making a general\nnuisance of himself. When, at last, a bushel of scrap had been\ncollected, he delved into the basket and came up with an armful. Davey\nand Bill yelled and chased him, which only made matters worse. He wove\nan elaborate pattern all over the lawn, leaving a trail behind him like\nHansel and Gretel. When the last confetti like bit had been strewn, he\nclimbed a tree, and sat just out of reach of his pursuers. Davey shook\na rake at him and Bill scolded, but no one could ever be angry at Butch\nfor long, because at the first sound of an angry voice he would rise\nup and put both tiny paws over his heart. Pleading, with his head to\none side, he looked so forlorn that even the hardest heart would soften\ntoward him.\nDr. Cordes stopped by about eleven o\u2019clock that morning to have a look\nat the boy who fell off the roof. James was sitting up in bed playing\nwith his stamp album.\n\u201cWhy, boy,\u201d exclaimed the doctor, tapping him all over. \u201cYou must be\nmade of rubber. You\u2019re all right. There isn\u2019t a thing the matter with\nyou.\u201d\nTurning to Mom he said, \u201cKeep him in bed for a day or two on a light\ndiet, and we\u2019ll keep that arm in a sling, but otherwise there isn\u2019t\nanything for me to do around here.\u201d He snapped his bag shut and gave\nJames a piece of gum. He tapped the pockets of his vest. \u201cBlack Jack\nfor the boys,\u201d he said, \u201cand Juicy Fruit for the girls. I always carry\nit with me.\u201d He took off his spectacles and polished them with a very\nclean handkerchief.\n\u201cI have something in the back seat of my car that these children might\nlike.\u201d His eyes ran around the room at the expectant faces. \u201cBut only\nif they\u2019ve been very good.\u201d\n\u201cWe\u2019ve been good! We\u2019ve been good!\u201d\nHe put his spectacles back on and said: \u201cVery well then, if you\u2019ve been\ngood. Come along out to the car with me and we\u2019ll have a look.\u201d Davey\nand Jane and Bill ran out with him, and James twitched with impatience.\n\u201cOh, Mom,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat do you think it will be? A watermelon?\u201d\nMom straightened his bed and thumped his pillow. \u201cMy poor starving\nson,\u201d she said, \u201cdon\u2019t you ever think of anything but food?\u201d\nThe doctor\u2019s car started away, and the three children came down the\nsteps toward the house. Janie had something in her apron. She was\nholding it tenderly, like a little cradle. The boys held the door for\nher, and she walked to James\u2019s bed slowly, and carefully laid in his\nlap two of the prettiest little baby rabbits that you ever saw. One was\nblack and one was white.\nJames squealed and reached out to stroke them with his good hand. \u201cOh,\u201d\nhe said. \u201cAren\u2019t they cute? Where did Dr. Cordes get them?\u201d\n\u201cFrom one of his patients,\u201d Jane said, \u201ca lady out in the country who\nraises them.\u201d\n\u201cThey\u2019re Flemish Giants,\u201d said Bill impressively. \u201cThey grow to be as\nbig as a dog. I saw some once at the State Fair. They\u2019re the biggest\nrabbits in the whole world.\u201d\nJanie looked at the little mites on the bed. \u201cThey\u2019ll have to eat a lot\nof carrots and clover before they get that big,\u201d she said. \u201cWhat shall\nwe call them?\u201d\nThey thought and thought. \u201cLet\u2019s call them Tar Baby and Snow White,\u201d\nsaid Jane.\n\u201cThose are sissy names,\u201d said Bill. \u201cLet\u2019s call them King and Queen.\u201d\nJames cocked his head to one side and studied them as if to draw\ninspiration from the way they wiggled their ears. \u201cQueen is all right\nfor the white one,\u201d he said, \u201cbut the little black fellow doesn\u2019t look\nlike a king to me. He looks scared stiff.\u201d\nAnd, somehow, in spite of all the efforts to give him a high sounding\nname, he remained Blackie to the end of his days.\nJane felt ambitious. \u201cCome on Bill,\u201d she said. \u201cLet\u2019s build a hutch for\nthem in back of the garage.\u201d\n\u201cOh, no,\u201d said James. \u201cThey\u2019re so little and lonesome. Let\u2019s keep them\nhere in the cottage. They\u2019re just babies yet.\u201d\nMom compromised by saying that they could start building the hutch\nright away, but while James had to lie in bed, he could have them for a\nshort while each day.\n\u201cBut don\u2019t let Butchie get his hands on them,\u201d she warned. \u201cMy, my,\nwhat\u2019s this house coming to? Grandma has her canary, and Billy is\nalways having bumble bees standing around in fruit jars. Davey has\nButch, and now a pair of rabbits. What next?\u201d\nThe hutch was started right after lunch, with great pounding and sawing\nand running back and forth. It was a pen enclosed with chicken wire,\nraised about two feet off the ground, with a little box at one end for\na shelter. They gathered clover industriously, and the floor of the pen\nwas carpeted with fresh green leaves and fragrant white blossoms. Bees\nzoomed in and out of the chicken wire to investigate. Billy placed a\ncrock of cool, fresh water for each rabbit, and Mom smiled.\n\u201cDon\u2019t you think that\u2019s a lot of food and drink for just two tiny\ninfants?\u201d she asked.\n\u201cOh, that\u2019s all right, Mom,\u201d said Billy pulling up more clover by the\nroots. \u201cThey\u2019re small now, but they really eat a lot, and they\u2019ll grow.\u201d\nMrs. Landry came through the gap in the hedge to see the new arrivals,\nand she promised Billy all her carrot tops. \u201cWhen they grow up, I\u2019ll\nexpect the first fur coat as my share,\u201d she added jokingly.\nThe air was hot and still, and there were clouds piling up in the west.\nBefore Mom went back to the cottage she warned the children to pick up\nall the tools, and put them away.\n\u201cIt looks like a storm,\u201d she said. \u201cDon\u2019t leave any thing out that\nmight get wet and rust.\u201d\nBilly nailed a small canvas flap to the door of the shelter, and then\nhe wondered if he should take the rabbits down to the cottage for the\nnight. The wind was rising and there were low growls of thunder. He\nlooked into the shelter. They were snug and warm and dry, and they were\nnestled close to each other, fast asleep. He smiled. Better leave them\nalone, he thought. Putting the tools away, he snapped the lock on the\ngarage door and hurried down to the front lot.\nJanie met him at the door. \u201cHurry, Bill,\u201d she said, \u201cMom said we should\nfasten the boat. It\u2019s pitching around out there.\u201d\nThe lake turned the color of lead, and the air that had been so warm\nsuddenly turned cold and sharp. Lightning streaked across the sky like\na whip followed by a frightening crash of thunder that seemed to make\nthe earth shake. Mom called from the front porch: \u201cHere comes the\nrain,\u201d and they all turned to watch.\nThe storm was coming toward them from the northern shore of the lake,\nand as it advanced it flattened out the waves in its path, until\nfinally the entire lake was a misty gray dimpled carpet. It smacked the\nchildren on their hot cheeks, and they squealed and held their arms in\nthe air and danced around. Mom called again. \u201cCome in,\u201d she cried,\n\u201cyou\u2019ll be struck by lightning.\u201d They ran for the porch. The rain\nslashed at their bare legs and the wind slammed the door behind them.\nDavey and Butch were sitting on James\u2019 bed, and every time the thunder\nwould roll Butchie would stick his head under the pillow. Mom got the\ncandles out, and Grandma started to boil water for tea.\n\u201cMight as well heat it while I can,\u201d she said. \u201cThe power will be\nturned off now, any minute.\u201d As she spoke there was a sudden wild crash\nfollowed by a shuddering roar of thunder, and every light went out all\nthe way around the lake.\n\u201cOh well,\u201d said Grandma, \u201cwe won\u2019t have tea after all. We\u2019ll have milk.\nI\u2019m sure it will be better for us.\u201d\nIn a few moments there was candlelight in the cottage. James ate\ncrackers and milk out of a blue bowl, and the candle made wavering\ndesigns on the wall. The flame flickered in the draft, and James\nsnuggled closer in his safe pillows. He imagined he was far out at sea.\nHe was strapped to his bunk in a lunging merchantman, with a bearded\npirate guarding the door, holding a great two-edged sword in his teeth.\nJust then Billy opened the door, and James roared out: \u201cAvast ye scum!\nShiver me timbers and nail me mizzen mast if I don\u2019t split ye in two!\u201d\nBilly looked startled and then he grinned. \u201cOh, you\u2019ve been reading\nTreasure Island again. Better not let Mom catch you reading by\ncandlelight.\u201d\n\u201cAbe Lincoln did, and George Washington too, I betcha.\u201d\n\u201cWell, maybe they got away with it, but you won\u2019t.\u201d said Bill. \u201cWait\ntill I have my supper, and we\u2019ll play rummy.\u201d\nSupper was spooky, like a Hallowe\u2019en party. There were candles in tall\nhurricane lamps, and none of the food was hot. The wind howled and\nrattled at the windows, and the rain beat at the panes and trickled in\nbetween the sash and the sill. Whenever the lightning would brighten\nthe sky they would run to the windows to watch the lake.\nThe raft leaped at its anchor like a frightened horse. Janie pulled her\nknees up under her chin and hugged her legs.\n\u201cI\u2019m glad Daddy isn\u2019t here tonight,\u201d she said. \u201cHe always feels sorry\nfor the raft when it\u2019s left out there in the lake all alone during a\nstorm.\u201d\n\u201cHumpf,\u201d said Grandma, as she kept right on with her knitting. \u201cWhat\ndoes he want us to do? Bring it right up here on the porch with us?\u201d\nJanie giggled, but Billy looked suddenly serious. The rabbits, he\nthought. How were they? Supposing they were wet and cold? He glanced\nat Mom, but changed his mind without speaking. She wouldn\u2019t let him go\nout on a night like this.\nHe fidgeted for a while and then got up and went into the middle\nbedroom. Without a flashlight it was almost impossible to find anything\nin the clothes closet, but by rummaging around for a while he managed\nto find an old leather jacket and a base ball cap. He carefully opened\nthe window and loosened the screen and then dropped down to the terrace.\nThe wind grabbed him by the shoulders and twirled him around and the\nrain drenched him. The window had to be closed again and the screen\npushed back into place before he started for the back yard.\nCrouching like a prize fighter, he fought his way, step by step, up\nthrough the rock garden. Small branches and leaves were whirling along\nthrough the air, and one branch whacked him on the head as it dropped\nto the ground. Just as he reached the gate there came a flash of\nbrilliant lightning that for a moment made everything seem like day.\nThe winding black-top road looked like a rushing river, and all the\ntrees and bushes were bent over pointing in the direction of the storm.\nThen it was dark again, and he started in the direction of the little\ncottage. The garage was just forty feet beyond, but it was so dark it\nseemed much farther, and just as he got there he slipped and fell full\nlength in the grass. The force of the driving rain seemed to pin him\ndown, and half crawling, stumbling and slipping, he made his way to the\nrabbit hutch. The chicken wire wall guided him to the shelter. Just\nthen there was another flash of lightning and he saw that the canvas\nflap had blown off in the wind. He reached inside, and there were the\nlittle rabbits huddled together. They were soaking wet, and their\nhearts were thumping in fright.\n\u201cI\u2019ll take you down to the cottage and get you warm and dry again.\u201d\nHe opened the front of his jacket and tucked them inside. They snuggled\nup close, and he walked carefully so as not to fall and hurt them. By\nbeing very careful to watch every step, he got as far as the road, but\nthe gutter was his downfall. Slip! Splash! Down went Billy, Blackie and\nQueen. The breath was almost knocked out of him, but the rabbits were\nsafe.\nStruggling to his feet, he got as far as the gate post before the next\nstreak of lightning came hurtling down through the night. He crouched\ninstinctively against the big stone post, and then he remembered\nDaddy\u2019s warning about never leaning against a fence or a tree during\na severe storm. Cows had been electrocuted because they stood near a\nfence or a tree when the lightning struck. Rising once more, he pulled\nhis jacket more closely about him and shivered as he hurried down the\nwet and slippery steps.\nBack on the terrace, he breathed easier. If he could only get in\nquietly, they might never have missed him. Holding the rabbits\ncarefully with one hand, he pulled at the screen with the other. It\nwouldn\u2019t budge. He tried again. The wind had blown it back into place,\nand there was no way of getting hold of it to loosen it again.\nThen he remembered that James was reading in the bedroom next door. He\nhurried over and scratched on the screen. There was no response. He\nknocked, but the storm made so much noise that a gentle knocking could\nnot be heard. He was handicapped by having only one hand to work with,\nbut he managed to turn the buttons that held the screen in place. Then\nhe pried it loose by inserting his finger in the little hole at the\nside and down it came, right in his face!\nJames was deep in a book, and he didn\u2019t hear a thing. Even the storm\nraging overhead seemed far away. He sailed the Spanish Main, and the\npirates were boarding his ship. Cruel, bearded men tore up and down the\ndeck, swinging their cutlasses and searching for victims.\nJust then the window was carefully raised and the wind whistled\ninto the room, almost extinguishing the candle. James looked up in\nastonishment to behold a bedraggled arm on the sill. He took a deep\nbreath and then screamed for all he was worth. His startled screams\ntore through the house and brought the whole family to his bedside. Mom\ngot there first. She turned her flashlight to the open window and there\nstood Bill, as wet and dirty a boy as ever was seen. He carefully put\none rabbit down on the foot of the bed and then he reached into his\njacket and rescued the other.\n\u201cBilly Murray!\u201d cried Mom, her voice rising. \u201cHave you lost your mind?\nWhat are you doing out there? Get into the house right this minute\nbefore you catch your death of cold.\u201d\n\u201cNo, no,\u201d she continued, as he tried to boost himself through the\nwindow. \u201cCome around to the door!\u201d She ran around to the side of the\nhouse and opened the door, and Billy poured in with the rain. He was\nsmeared with mud, and little streams ran from his hands and feet and\noff the tail of his jacket. Mom spluttered and ran for dry towels.\nGrandma heated some water on the emergency canned heat stove, so that\nshe could make some hot lemonade for him. Almost before he knew it, the\nfugitive was warm and dry and clean again, and safely tucked in bed.\nThe storm roared on. A big branch on the poplar tree tore loose and\nfell to the ground with a crash. When the lightning flashed, they could\nsee that a pool had formed in the low part of the yard.\nBilly lay in bed watching Davey say his prayers when Mom came up,\ncarrying a candle in one hand and a shoe box in the other. She came\nover and sat on the edge of his bed.\n\u201cHere you are, Bedivere,\u201d she said, and she placed the shoe box beside\nhim. He looked in and saw Blackie and Queen fast asleep on a bed of\ncotton batting.\n\u201cThank you, Mom,\u201d he grinned. \u201cDid you call me Bedivere because I had\nto go to bed?\u201d\n\u201cNo,\u201d Mom smiled. \u201cI called you Bedivere because you braved all manner\nof dragons to go to the rescue of the weak and the helpless.\u201d\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Billy. \u201cYou mean a knight that rides on a white horse.\u201d\n\u201cYes, one of King Arthur\u2019s knights. You did a fine and brave deed\ntonight Billy, but do you realize that you might have been hurt out\nthere in the storm? And besides, you almost frightened the wits out of\npoor James.\u201d\n\u201cYes, Mom,\u201d said Billy. \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d\nShe kissed him and picked up the candle. \u201cBilly,\u201d she said. \u201cRemember\nthe weak and the helpless, and remember to use your head.\u201d\n\u201cYes, Mom,\u201d said Billy again, and he said it sleepily. The candlelight\nwent down, down, down the stairs, and Mom\u2019s shadow walked beside her.\nThen it was dark, and there was only the rain on the roof and the wind\nunder the eaves. Billy reached out and felt the little rabbits. They\nwere quiet and warm.\n\u201cGood night, little guys,\u201d he said, and turned over to go to sleep, but\nthere was a small figure beside his bed.\n\u201cBilly,\u201d whispered Davey. \u201cMove over. I want to sleep with you. I\u2019m\nscared.\u201d\n\u201cAll right,\u201d said Billy, rolling over to make room for him. \u201cCome on\nin. I\u2019m Bedivere. I\u2019ll protect you.\u201d\nDavey felt around cautiously. \u201cWhere are the rabbits?\u201d he whispered.\n\u201cIn a shoe box, on my dresser,\u201d said Bill.\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Davey, and his disappointment was so evident, even in the\ndark, that Billy smiled. \u201cI couldn\u2019t have them right here in bed with\nme,\u201d he explained. \u201cI might roll on them and squash them.\u201d\n\u201cYes, that\u2019s right,\u201d said Davey reluctantly. \u201cWell, good night, Bill. I\nguess I\u2019ll go back to my own bed now.\u201d\n\u201cHey, hold on. I thought you wanted to sleep with me because you were\nscared.\u201d\n\u201cWell,\u201d Davey admitted, \u201cit was partly that, and partly because I\nwanted to sleep with the rabbits.\u201d\n\u201cHa! Ha!\u201d Billy laughed. \u201cI thought so.\u201d\n\u201cGood night, Davey.\u201d\n\u201cGood night, Bill.\u201d\nBy morning the sky was clear and bright. The ground was littered with\nbroken branches, and sure enough, there was a sort of lagoon formed by\nthe rain water in the low part of the front yard. \u201cLet\u2019s make a raft,\u201d\nsaid Janie. \u201cWe can use some of those long planks down in front.\u201d After\nbreakfast they started out to play, and Grandma called them back.\n\u201cYou\u2019ll get slivers in your feet if you play barefoot on those planks,\u201d\nshe said. \u201cBut we\u2019ll get our shoes wet if we wear _them_,\u201d said Jane.\nGrandma looked at them over the top of her glasses. \u201cEver hear of\nrubber boots?\u201d she asked. They burrowed into the darkest corner of the\nclothes closet under the stairway and found some tall rubber boots\nthat had belonged to Grandpa. They were much too large and they made a\nlovely squashy sound when they walked.\nThere were lots of interesting things to do after the storm. The\nviolence of the wind had driven the raft several hundred yards to the\nwest and it had to be towed back to where it belonged. Before they\ncould get to the raft they had to bale out the boat. It was so full\nof water that it was almost sunk where it lay at the pier. An awning\nhad come loose and Billy climbed up on a stepladder and tacked it back\ninto place. The big branch that had blown off the poplar tree lay there\nin the yard like a fallen giant. They sat on the smaller branches and\nsprang up and down like on a diving board.\n\u201cLet\u2019s pretend we\u2019re Swiss Family Robinson,\u201d said Jane, \u201cand sail off\non our raft.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s a corking good idea,\u201d said Bill. \u201cI\u2019ll be the father and you be\nthe mother and Davey can be our child.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll go and get some lunch,\u201d said Davey, always practical. He was back\nin no time at all with a brown paper bag full of cookies, and in the\nother arm he carried the shoe box cradle. \u201cJames said we could take the\nrabbits along,\u201d he said joyfully, \u201conly we shouldn\u2019t drown \u2019em.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what we\u2019ll do,\u201d said Bill. \u201cLet\u2019s rig up a sail and go\nout and rescue the big raft with this little raft.\u201d They found a piece\nof wash line to use for a tow rope and they rigged a sail with an old\nsquare of canvas that they found in the garage. They had trouble with\nthe mast. It wasn\u2019t fastened securely and it flopped this way and that\nwith the weight of the canvas. Finally, with much pushing and pulling\nand grunting it was made secure.\nThe surface of the lake was calm, but there was just enough rise and\nfall to keep the planks awash, so they sat on cracker boxes to keep\ndry. \u201cWe\u2019d better take some oars with us,\u201d Janie said, \u201cso that we can\npaddle home in case the wind fails us.\u201d \u201cGood idea,\u201d said Bill, and a\npair of oars were lashed down to the plank floor.\nAt last they were ready to start. Davey and Jane sat on the cracker\nbox before the mast. Davey held the rabbits on his lap. Billy sat on\nthe cracker box behind the mast with the paper bag of cookies and the\ncoiled tow rope beside him. He manipulated the sail by pulling guide\nropes one way or the other. They waved good-by to the folks on the\nporch as if they were leaving on an ocean cruise and then they poled\ntheir way out of the shallow water in their front yard, into Mrs.\nSaunders\u2019 front yard, and then out into the open waters of the lake.\nThere was just enough air moving to catch the sail and they drifted\nalong slowly in the direction of the big raft. The lake was shallow\nhere. The ripples washed over the toes of their rubber boots and Billy\nsang:\n  \u201cA life on the ocean wave,\n   A home on the rolling deep,\n   Where codfish wiggle their tails\n   In an ocean two feet deep.\u201d\nThey passed Ben, the handy man, on his way out to the fishing grounds.\n\u201cWhere you kids bound for in that contraption?\u201d he called.\nThey waved their hands and shouted back at him, \u201cWe\u2019re going to rescue\nour raft. It blew away in the storm last night.\u201d\n\u201cWhere\u2019s the other one?\u201d he wanted to know. \u201cWhere\u2019s James?\u201d\n\u201cHe\u2019s in bed today,\u201d Janie shouted across the water. \u201cHe fell off the\nroof and sprained his arm.\u201d\n\u201cFell off the roof!\u201d Ben repeated in astonishment. \u201cLand sakes,\nwhat are you Murray kids going to try next?\u201d He shook his head in\nbewilderment and rowed away.\nWhen they reached the raft they fastened it securely to the small raft,\nand then they all clambered on for inspection. \u201cLet\u2019s bring our cracker\nboxes up here on the big raft,\u201d said Billy, \u201cand the rabbits too. It\u2019s\ndry up here.\u201d\nThey sat and munched cookies and viewed their surroundings. \u201cIt\u2019s like\na little island,\u201d Janie said.\n\u201cI\u2019m glad I\u2019m not shipwrecked here,\u201d said Bill. \u201cIt\u2019s all right on a\nnice morning like this, but not on a night like last night.\u201d\nGetting back home wasn\u2019t quite so simple as it seemed to be when they\nfirst thought of it. They couldn\u2019t use the sail because what slight\nbreeze there was, was against them. The big raft was an awkward thing\nto tow, and as they struggled with the problem, one of the Landry boys\ncame pop-pop-popping along side in his motor boat.\n\u201cWhat are you kids trying to do now,\u201d he inquired. And then, without\nwaiting for an answer, he said, \u201cThrow me a line and I\u2019ll tow you\nhome.\u201d It was wonderfully simple. The motor boat led the way, then the\nboard raft with Billy on a cracker box, and last of all the big raft\nwith Janie sitting proudly on a cracker box in the center and Davey\ndragging his feet in the water at the back.\nThey put the big raft just where it belonged and then pop-popped into\nshore behind the motor boat. \u201cThank you, thank you,\u201d they cried as they\nreached the pier. The Landry boy grinned and waved his arm. \u201cThink\nnothing of it,\u201d he said. \u201cYou can do the same for me some time when I\u2019m\nship wrecked.\u201d\nThe lagoon in the front yard was beginning to dry up, so they\ndismantled their board raft at the pier. Mom came down to greet them.\n\u201cAt the risk of being unpopular,\u201d she said, \u201cI\u2019ll have to remind you to\nput all that stuff back where it came from.\u201d\nJanie and Bill groaned. \u201cCan\u2019t we do it after we eat? We\u2019re so hungry!\u201d\n\u201cNo. Clean up right away, and then you won\u2019t have to come back to it.\u201d\nDavey didn\u2019t mind. \u201cLet\u2019s get the wheelbarrow,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019ll load\nall the stuff on it, and you can push, Billy, and I\u2019ll ride on top.\u201d\nMom laughed at the dismay on Billy\u2019s face, and she tousled his hair.\n\u201cNo, Davey,\u201d she said. \u201cBilly is the strong man of the family, but he\nisn\u2019t St. Christopher. If each one of you will take a load back to the\ngarage you\u2019ll be finished in five minutes. I want you to hurry for\nanother reason too. Lunch is ready, and Mrs. Williams sent two freezing\ntrays of ice-cream over for James. Perhaps you could help him eat it.\u201d\n\u201cOh, boy,\u201d said Billy, and he and Jane ran for the wheelbarrow. Davey\nwas given the cracker boxes to take back to the garage, and before ten\nminutes were up they had finished and were gathered around the table.\n[Illustration]\n_Chapter Ten_\n_Janie Earns a Dollar_\n[Illustration]\nA fat china pig stood on Jane\u2019s dresser. He made no jingle as she shook\nhim. Billy and James made money cutting grass in the spring and summer,\nand shoveling snow in the winter. It seemed they could always earn a\nnickel or a dime, but Janie dearly loved an ice-cream cone or a new\nhair bow, and her allowance vanished almost as soon as it appeared.\n\u201cPiggy, old fellow,\u201d she promised, patting his fat sides. \u201cI\u2019m going to\nfeed you today.\u201d\nMom was down at the farmer\u2019s buying eggs, so Janie talked it over with\nGrandma.\n\u201cI suppose I could help weed Mrs. Williams\u2019 garden like the boys do,\nbut it does get so hot, and the mosquitoes are quite bad.\u201d\nGrandma said, \u201cUm H\u2019m,\u201d and continued to knit. Janie leaned closer and\nconfided, \u201cYou know, I made breakfasts for a while last summer, but I\nhad to give that up. I had so much trouble waking up.\u201d\n\u201cHow about helping Aunt Claire cut green beans?\u201d\n\u201cOh, please! I just can\u2019t bear to cut green beans,\u201d wailed Jane. \u201cI\nmust find something more ... well ... more interesting.\u201d\nGrandma clicked her needles and said: \u201cBy the time you\u2019re as old as I\nam, young lady, you\u2019ll find that most ways of earning money are neither\ninteresting nor easy. You\u2019ll learn that you just grab hold of the job\nat hand and stick to it till it\u2019s finished.\u201d\nMom came in just then and Janie told her of her great poverty and her\ndire need. \u201cWhy I have just the thing for you, dear. I met Mrs. Peters\nat church last Sunday, and she said that she and her husband would like\nto go to the movies Saturday night if they only had someone to take\ncare of Sammy.\u201d\nJanie\u2019s eyes lit up. \u201cOh Mom, I know him. He likes me. I could take\ncare of him easily.\u201d\n\u201cYes,\u201d said her mother, carefully putting down the egg basket. \u201cI think\nyou could. Why don\u2019t you run down the road and ask Mrs. Peters right\nnow?\u201d\n\u201cHere I go,\u201d said Janie, with enthusiasm.\nSammy was playing in the garden when she got there. He was a dear\nlittle boy, about two and a half years old, with big brown eyes and\nshort dark curly hair. He was delighted to see Jane and offered to give\nher a ride in his wheelbarrow. Jane laughed and said \u201cOh no, Sammy. I\u2019m\nmuch too big for your wheelbarrow. I\u2019d be like Goldilocks and the baby\nbear\u2019s chair.\u201d\nMrs. Peters came to the door and called \u201cHello\u201d to Janie and asked her\nto come in. The cottage was one of the most attractive on Oak Lake, and\nas Janie looked around her she thought of what fun it would be to spend\nthe evening here.\n\u201cMrs. Peters,\u201d she started, \u201cMom said that perhaps you might want me\nto take care of Sammy one of these Saturday evenings while you and Mr.\nPeters went to the movies.\u201d\nMrs. Peters looked pleased. \u201cWhy Janie, that\u2019s so kind of you, but\naren\u2019t you quite young for such a responsibility?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m thirteen,\u201d said Janie proudly. \u201cMy mother gives me lots of\nresponsibilities. I take care of my brothers almost as well as she\ndoes.\u201d\nMrs. Peters smiled. \u201cYes, I\u2019m sure you do, dear, and you\u2019ll get along\nsplendidly with Sammy, too. He likes you already. Come down Saturday\nevening about seven, and Mr. Peters and I will take you home again\nabout eleven o\u2019clock. We\u2019ll give you a dollar.\u201d\nA DOLLAR! Whew! That was more money than she ever made in one day\nbefore. \u201cOh thank you, Mrs. Peters. I\u2019ll be here at seven o\u2019clock on\nSaturday. Good-by. Good-by Sammy!\u201d\nJanie\u2019s legs flew back down the road. Billy and James were sitting on\ntop of the stone posts waiting for the mailman. When Janie told them\nher news they looked pleased and impressed. \u201cGolly, Jane. A dollar is\nreal money. What are you going to do with it?\u201d\n\u201cIt will be the first dollar I ever earned and I\u2019m going to do\nsomething special with it. I don\u2019t know what it will be yet, though.\u201d\n\u201cOh, boy!\u201d said James. \u201cGuess I\u2019ll get a job too.\u201d\nMrs. Murray smiled as her daughter\u2019s eager face appeared in the\ndoorway. \u201cSo you\u2019re going to take care of Sammy. Congratulations.\u201d\n\u201cH\u2019m,\u201d said Grandma still clicking away at her knitting. \u201cI\u2019ll save my\ncongratulations for a while, and in the meantime I\u2019ll wish you good\nluck.\u201d\nSaturday evening came at last, and Janie started off down the road.\nMom called after her: \u201cHoney, why don\u2019t you take one of the boys with\nyou?\u201d\nJane looked hurt. \u201cWhy, Mom! I don\u2019t need any help.\u201d\n\u201cAll right then. I thought you might be lonely.\u201d\nThe Peters were ready to leave and Mrs. Peters had prepared a list of\ninstructions and left them on the telephone stand. \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Mrs.\nPeters,\u201d said Jane confidently. \u201cEverything is going to be just fine.\u201d\nEverything _was_ just fine until the car started away, and then young\nSammy threw back his head and began to cry. He ran to the garden gate\nand called after the disappearing car, \u201cMommy! Daddy! Come back! I\nwant to go with you!\u201d Jane put her arms around him and gave him her\nbrightest smile.\n\u201cThey\u2019ll come back, Sam. Now, let\u2019s play ball.\u201d Sam\u2019s face cleared\njust a little and the two of them tossed the ball around on the lawn.\nJanie wanted to quit after the first few minutes, but not Sammy. He was\nhaving a fine time and when Janie sank down on the grass, panting for\nbreath, he urged her on. \u201cNo stop, Janie. More ball, more ball!\u201d\n\u201cEnough ball\u201d said the amateur nursemaid, drawing him down beside her.\n\u201cNow, I\u2019ll tell you a story. I\u2019ll tell you a story about Pinocchio.\u201d\nSammy\u2019s eyes sparkled. He clapped his hands and his short black curls\ndanced as he settled down on Janie\u2019s lap. \u201cThree Bears,\u201d he coaxed.\n\u201cThree Bears, Little Red Riding Hood.\u201d Janie\u2019s mind leaped back nimbly\nto her not so far distant childhood.\n\u201cOnce upon a time,\u201d she started, and Sammy relaxed. She rambled on and\non. The Three Bears wandered through the legendary forest and Sammy\nshook his head at the empty porridge bowls. Little Red Riding Hood\nescaped from the wicked wolf and Sammy rejoiced. This was easy. This\nwas much less strenuous than a ball game. She told of the adventures of\nLittle Black Sambo and Snow White. Sammy was like a lamb.\n\u201cMore story, Janie,\u201d he begged. \u201cMore Three Bears, Little Red Riding\nHood.\u201d\nJanie laughed and patted his hand. \u201cNow I\u2019m going to tell you about\nPinocchio. \u2018Once upon a time there was a stick of wood.\u2019\u201d Sammy\nlistened. He marveled at the stick that could talk. He laughed at\nthe ridiculous nose. He laughed when Pinocchio ran away. When poor\nPinocchio returned from his wanderings and sat down at the fire to dry\nhis feet, he looked expectant. When she told how the wooden feet burned\noff he rolled on the grass in glee.\nJanie was indignant. \u201cWhy Sammy, you heartless little wretch. It hurts\nto have your feet burned off. You mustn\u2019t laugh at anything so sad.\u201d\nObligingly, Sammy\u2019s face fell. \u201cPoor Pinocchio,\u201d he said, and the\ntears started down his fat cheeks. Janie hastened to soften his grief.\n\u201cGeppeto will make him some new feet.\u201d But Sammy was determined to\nmourn if mourning was called for. In vain Janie tried to change the\nsubject. Sammy wept. He cried until his face was wet with tears and\nlooking up Jane saw her brother Bill at the gate.\n\u201cOh, Billy,\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cI never was so glad to see you. I can\u2019t\ncheer this child up.\u201d\nBilly wore his most impish expression, \u201cI thought you didn\u2019t need any\nhelp.\u201d\nJanie\u2019s eyes flashed, \u201cBill Murray,\u201d she exploded. \u201cIf you think this\nis funny, if you think this is any time for one of your jokes....\u201d\nBill entered the yard and gathered the sobbing Sammy up in his arms.\n\u201cEasy, old girl, easy,\u201d he said. \u201cRemember your temper.\u201d\nJanie bit her lip, then she rose up grimly, put one foot in back of\nher and gave a tremendous kick that sent her shoe flying up in the\nair. Coming down it lodged in the rain gutter and Billy roared with\nlaughter. Sammy was reminded once more of the ball game.\n\u201cMore ball, Janie,\u201d he cried. \u201cMore ball.\u201d\nJanie quickly diverted his attention. \u201cBed time for little boys,\u201d she\nsaid. \u201cSammy is going to put his pajamas on, brush his teeth, say his\nprayers, and go to bed.\u201d Billy helped get his shoe laces untied, but he\nwanted to wash his face and hands by himself, and he dawdled for ten\nminutes brushing his teeth. He made quite an issue of wearing a certain\npajama suit with a rabbit embroidered on the pocket, instead of the\none his mother had laid out, but at last everything was settled to his\nsatisfaction, and he said his prayers and climbed into bed.\nIt was quiet for a while. Billy worked at a crossword puzzle and Janie\nread, but she could hear the creak, creak of the springs as Sammy\nwalked around on his bed. She looked at the instruction sheet once\nmore, as if to draw inspiration from the written words. Mrs. Peters had\nwritten: \u201cBed at 7:30,\u201d and here it was half past eight and Sammy still\nawake.\n\u201cWhat will I do, Bill? He won\u2019t go to sleep.\u201d\nBilly took the matter in hand.\n\u201cI\u2019ll tell you what I\u2019ll do, Sam,\u201d he said. \u201cIf you\u2019ll lie down on your\nbed and go to sleep, I\u2019ll stand on my head.\u201d\nSammy looked interested, and he lay down expectantly watching his\nentertainers. Janie sat down on a rocking chair, and Billy proceeded to\nstand on his head. The performance was a great success.\n\u201cMore, more,\u201d cried bright-eyed Sammy. \u201cMore stand on head!\u201d\nBilly rubbed his noggin and went back to work, but this time one hand\nslipped on the rug. As he struggled for his balance one heel caught in\na pedestal holding a large Boston fern, and down came Billy, pedestal\nand fern with a great crash.\nSammy laughed and clapped his hands, but Janie rushed over to where he\nlay. \u201cBilly! Oh Billy! Are you hurt?\u201d\nHe shook his head groggily, and bits of jardiniere clattered to the\nfloor. \u201cNo,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019m all right, but I surely made a mess.\u201d He\nstarted downstairs to get a broom and a dust pan, pulling Boston fern\nout of his hair as he went.\nSammy tried to climb out of bed, but Janie persuaded him to lie down\nagain. \u201cGo to sleep now,\u201d she said gently, and she started to leave the\nroom, but Sammy had another idea.\n\u201cSammy want a drink.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll get one for you right away,\u201d promised Jane, and returned with a\nsmall glass of water.\n\u201cSammy want a big drink.\u201d\n\u201cTry this first, and if you\u2019re still thirsty, I\u2019ll bring some more.\u201d\nJane held the glass to his lips, but he bobbed as he stepped forward\non the mattress, and part of the drink dribbled on the front of his\npajamas.\n\u201cOh!\u201d she gasped. \u201cSit down for a moment while I get something dry for\nyou to sleep in.\u201d\nBy nine o\u2019clock he was back in bed, and Janie was sitting in the room\nwith him rocking and singing lullabies. It was warm and quiet, and\nJanie was very sleepy, but not Samuel. Whenever she faltered he urged\nher on. \u201cMore Humpty Dumpty, Janie. More Rockaby Baby.\u201d Wearily Jane\ncomplied.\nBilly had been reading downstairs and holding a wet towel to his head.\nNow, thinking that Sammy had dropped off to sleep, he tiptoed up the\nstairs. \u201cCreak!\u201d went a loose board. Sammy sat bolt upright.\n\u201cMommy!\u201d he cried. \u201cMommy\u2019s home.\u201d\nBilly\u2019s round face appeared at the top of the stairs and Sammy screamed\nin disappointment.\n\u201cOh!\u201d he cried. \u201cI want my Mommy,\u201d and he turned on his guardians with\ninfantile rage. \u201cGo home Janie. Billy, go home!\u201d\nJanie tried to quiet him, but he was over tired and over stimulated,\nand he threw his pillow on the floor and sobbed.\n\u201cI\u2019ll go home,\u201d said Bill. \u201cI guess I wasn\u2019t much help. Good-by, Sammy,\nold fella. Good-by, Jane.\u201d\nJane gathered Sammy up in her arms and smoothed his bed. All the fight\nwas out of him. He snuggled up against her with a tired sigh, and was\nasleep almost as soon as she put him back on the pillow.\nMom looked up curiously as Billy walked in. He had a bump on his head,\nand bits of fern and plant dirt still stuck to his hair.\n\u201cWhat in the world happened to you?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ve been down at the Peters helping Jane take care of Sammy, but I\nwas thrown out.\u201d\n\u201cDid Jane send you home?\u201d\n\u201cNo, Sammy did.\u201d\nMom was on her feet in an instant, all concern. \u201cWhy that poor child,\u201d\nshe said. \u201cDown there all alone taking care of him.\u201d She reached for a\nsweater and started out the door. Billy trotted along at her side.\n\u201cI helped her, Mom. I did everything I could think of.\u201d\nArriving at the Peters\u2019 cottage, Mom pushed the gate open and hurried\nup the walk. She knocked and Janie appeared, completely unruffled.\n\u201cJanie,\u201d cried Mom. \u201cWhat happened? What\u2019s wrong with little Sam. Is he\nfeverish?\u201d\n\u201cNo, Mom,\u201d Jane answered calmly. \u201cIt was just a tantrum. I put him back\nto bed and he\u2019s fast asleep.\u201d\nStanding there, one step below her daughter on the steps Mom suddenly\nfelt completely inadequate.\n\u201cYou run along home, Mom,\u201d said Jane, much as she would have spoken to\none of the children. \u201cI\u2019ll be all right.\u201d\nBilly and Mom started back home, and Janie sank down on one of the\nbig chairs. She looked at the inviting stacks of magazines that she\nhad planned to read during the evening. It was cold and she was very\nsleepy. Mrs. Peters had said that she should find a lunch in the\nrefrigerator, but she was too tired to be hungry. A hoot owl shrieked\nin the trees outside, and shivering, she wished that she hadn\u2019t been so\nlofty in refusing Mom\u2019s offer of company and assistance.\nIt was ten-thirty. How the time dragged. She went upstairs and peeked\nin at Sammy. He was sound asleep. Back down stairs again, she tuned in\nthe radio, but there was nothing but the blare of dance bands, strident\nand unfamiliar. Her jaws ached with yawning. Would they never come\nhome? She curled up at one end of the davenport, and pulled the afghan\naround her. It was so quiet she could almost hear the lapping of the\nwaves on the shore. One by one, a few late cars whizzed by, but still\nthe Peters didn\u2019t come. Her head dropped lower and lower, and then with\na jerk, she was awake again.\n\u201cMustn\u2019t go to sleep, Janie,\u201d she said aloud. \u201cRemember, you\u2019re\nresponsible here.\u201d\nShe walked up and down for a while, but it made echoing sounds.\n\u201cOh, dear. I wish I had let Mom stay.\u201d\nAt last a car slowed down for the curve, and coasted into the Peters\u2019\nentrance. Janie flew to the door.\n\u201cHello!\u201d she called eagerly. \u201cHello!\u201d\n\u201cHi,\u201d called the Peters pleasantly. \u201cHow is everything?\u201d\n\u201cFine, just fine,\u201d said Janie in her relief to see them again.\n\u201cGet your sweater, dear,\u201d said Mrs. Peters, \u201cand I\u2019ll take you home.\nHow did you get along? Is Sammy asleep?\u201d\n\u201cOh yes, he went to sleep. I sang to him and told him stories,\u201d and\nthen she remembered the Boston fern.\n\u201cOh, Mrs. Peters,\u201d she choked, and all the strain of the evening hit\nher at once and she was crying.\n\u201cBilly stood on his head, and broke your fern!\u201d\nMrs. Peters looked puzzled, amused, and sympathetic all at once. She\npatted Janie on the shoulders as they started out the door. \u201cAccidents\nwill happen,\u201d she said, \u201cand boys will be boys, but I\u2019m glad that you\ndidn\u2019t have any trouble with Sammy. He\u2019s such a dear, good boy. I\nlooked in at him sleeping just now. He looked just like an angel.\u201d\nJanie heard it all in a daze of weariness. \u201cOh yes,\u201d she agreed\ndrowsily. \u201cA little angel.\u201d\nAs they reached the Murrays\u2019 gate, Mrs. Peters thanked her again, and\npressed a dollar bill into her hand. Janie said \u201cGoodnight\u201d and walked\nwearily down the stone steps through the rock garden, and then up the\nbrick steps to the porch.\nMom was waiting up for her. \u201cCome in, baby,\u201d she said. \u201cI have your bed\nopen and your pajamas laid out. You can sleep late tomorrow morning.\u201d\nJanie thanked her, and then sank down on her bed, almost too tired\nto take off her shoes, but in her right hand she grasped a crisp\none-dollar bill.\nShe reached for her piggybank, and patted his sleek flower-decorated\nsides. \u201cPiggy,\u201d she said, \u201cif you knew how hard it was for me to earn\nthis money, you\u2019d be really grateful.\u201d She stuffed the dollar in the\nslot. \u201cHere you are,\u201d she whispered. \u201cI promised I\u2019d feed you, and\ndon\u2019t say that Janie doesn\u2019t keep her promises.\u201d\n_Chapter Eleven_\n_The Front Seat on the Bus_\n[Illustration]\nThe storm was followed by three weeks of clear, hot weather. The lake\nwas soft and clean, like rain water. The garden thrived in the heat,\nand the little rabbits grew sleek and fat, and kept everyone busy\ngathering clover for them.\nOne morning Janie awoke to hear the clop-clop of the farmer\u2019s horses\nas they walked down the road. They were drawing an elaborate machine\npainted bright red and yellow, like a circus wagon. The farmer, all in\nfaded blue, looked drab by comparison.\n\u201cMom,\u201d she called. \u201cLook at the fancy wagon the farmer has this\nmorning. What is he going to do with that?\u201d\nMom raised her shade, and the boys popped their heads out of the\nupstairs windows.\n\u201cThat is a brand new reaper,\u201d she answered. \u201cMy, doesn\u2019t it glisten!\nThis must be the first time he\u2019s had it out. That machine cuts the\ngrain, then ties it into sheaves. He\u2019ll stack them in yellow shocks all\nover the field, and Aunt Claire will sunburn her nose while she puts it\nall on canvas.\u201d\nJanie wriggled her way back to the middle of the bed, and reached down\nto the floor for her slippers. Harvesting meant August, and August\nmeant hayfever. Hayfever meant going to town to the doctor\u2019s office for\n_shots_. She made a face, but it wasn\u2019t so bad, really. Just a quick\nlittle pinch, like getting caught with a pin.\n\u201cMom,\u201d she called again. \u201cWhen do I go to town for my shots?\u201d\nMrs. Murray was brushing her teeth, and the answer sounded a little\nbubbly at first. \u201cYou can start any time now,\u201d she answered. \u201cHow would\nyou like to go in tomorrow morning?\u201d\nJane looked puzzled. \u201cDaddy won\u2019t be here. Who would take me?\u201d\n\u201cYou can go in on the bus, and come back with Daddy.\u201d\nAll by herself on the bus! Janie glowed. Billy asked if he couldn\u2019t\ngo along, but Mom said, \u201cNot this time, Billy. I need you to help cut\ngrass.\u201d\nJanie thought about the trip all day. She washed her hair, and put it\nup in pin curls all over her head, pressed her blue dress, and brushed\nher hat. She put some pink polish on her fingernails. Mom offered to\nlet her take one of her prettiest handkerchiefs, but what Grandma\nloaned her was the best of all.\n\u201cCome here, Janie,\u201d she said, and she unfastened her wrist watch.\n\u201cYou\u2019ll be needing a watch to tell the time, what with having to meet\na bus, and keep an appointment at the doctor\u2019s and all. I want you to\ntake my watch.\u201d Janie\u2019s eyes popped.\n\u201cBut, mind you take good care of it, and don\u2019t let it drop.\u201d\n\u201cOh, thank you, Grandma,\u201d said Jane, kissing her. \u201cThank you. I\u2019ll take\never so good care of it. I\u2019ll be just as careful as I know how.\u201d She\nslept that night with the little watch near her ear. It seemed to talk\nto her in a fast small voice. \u201cGoing to town on the bus,\u201d it said over\nand over again. \u201cGoing to town on the bus.\u201d\nShe slept late the next morning. By the time she was dressed the boys\nwere off fishing, and Grandma and Mom were finishing their coffee on\nthe porch.\n\u201cHurry up, sleepy head,\u201d Mom said. \u201cIt\u2019s nine o\u2019clock now, and the bus\nleaves at ten minutes after ten. You\u2019ll just about have time to eat\nyour breakfast and gather your things together before it\u2019s time to\nleave.\u201d\nJanie drank her milk and decided against the cereal. She reached for a\npiece of coffee cake, all crumbly with powdered sugar on the top, but\nGrandma changed her mind for her.\n\u201cIf I were you, Lady Jane,\u201d she said, \u201cI\u2019d eat my cereal. You have a\nlong day ahead of you, and besides, how would a fashionable creature\nlike you look with powdered sugar all over the front of her dress?\u201d\nJane giggled and dug into her corn flakes.\n\u201cIs there anything I can buy for you, Grandma? Do you want me to\ntelephone for you while I\u2019m in town?\u201d\nThe senior Mrs. Murray cocked her head and thought. \u201cNot unless it\nwould be some embroidery cotton,\u201d she said. She searched through\na large paper box that must have contained hundreds of skeins of\nbright-colored embroidery cotton. \u201cHere, this is it.\u201d She extracted a\nfew strands of salmon colored thread. \u201cPut this in your purse, and see\nif you can match it for me. Here,\u201d she added, pressing a coin into the\npalm of Janie\u2019s hand, \u201cbuy something for yourself.\u201d\n\u201cGrandma! That\u2019s too much money.\u201d\n\u201cWell then, buy an extra hair ribbon to match your yellow sweater.\u201d\nJanie laughed. She dropped the money and the thread into her purse,\nand ran to get her hat. She was driving over to the station with Mrs.\nWilliams. When Mrs. Williams took her husband down to the bus station\nin the morning, everyone who wanted to go to town that day seemed to be\njammed into the car with her. She tooted at the gate, and Janie kissed\nher mother and Grandmother hastily, and ran up the garden steps.\n\u201cHello, Mrs. Williams,\u201d she said, a little out of breath. \u201cDo you think\nwe\u2019ll be on time?\u201d Mrs. Williams smiled as she eased the shiny, dark\ncar into second gear. \u201cOf course we\u2019ll be on time,\u201d she said. Her voice\nwas deep and rich, and when she said \u201cof course\u201d, it sounded like \u201cof\ncoss.\u201d Janie never tired of looking at her and listening to her talk.\nShe was so pretty, and she could play the piano just like someone\nyou\u2019d hear at a concert. She had crossed the ocean half a dozen times.\nShe had gone to the opera in Paris, and she had climbed a mountain in\nSwitzerland. She had flown to South America. It was no wonder she said\n\u201cOf coss\u201d about meeting a bus. Janie sighed with joy, and shifted a\nlittle on the seat.\nThey came to the place where the railroad used to be, and then they\nturned onto the main highway, and Mrs. Williams faced the direction\nfrom which the bus would come. There were other people waiting to go\nto town. A young woman carried a little baby on one arm, and a black,\noilcloth covered bag on the other. The day was warm, but the baby was\nwrapped from head to foot in a thick pink blanket. Even his little face\nwas pink. When I have a baby, Jane thought, I\u2019ll let him stay uncovered\nin the summer. Poor little fellow. He looks like a boiled shrimp.\nA stout lady in a summery print dress held a parasol over her head, and\nsquinted down the road every so often to see if the bus was coming. A\nboy, about fourteen years old, sat on a large stone at the roadside. He\nwas dressed in a Boy Scout uniform, and he carried a shoe box, which he\nhandled gingerly. I\u2019ll bet it\u2019s eggs, thought Jane. I\u2019ll bet it\u2019s two\ndozen eggs that he\u2019s taking into town for someone.\nMrs. Williams looked out of the window. \u201cHere it comes,\u201d she cried. \u201cIt\nwill be here in just a minute.\u201d Jane hugged her purse. The fifty cents\nin her hand made a sharp red ring where she held it tight.\nJane was out of the car and over at the side of the road with the\nothers before she knew it. \u201cGood-by, Mrs. Williams,\u201d she called. \u201cThank\nyou for the ride.\u201d\nThe boy scout waited for the lady with the pink baby to get on ahead\nof him. The stout lady with the parasol came next. Janie clutched her\npurse and her hat and climbed the rubber covered steps, and the boy\nscout was right behind her, still balancing his eggs. She dropped her\nfifty cents into the glass box, and looked around for a seat. \u201cThat\nwill be fifty-five cents, Miss,\u201d said the driver. \u201cOh dear,\u201d said\nJanie, and she searched quickly through her purse for a nickel. She\nfound one, and the bus began to roar and tremble as it turned out on\nthe highway.\nThe seats were pretty well taken by the time it came to Oak Lake, but\nthere was one seat that Janie had always wanted, and glory be, it was\nvacant now. Perhaps none of the grown folks wanted that seat. It was\nright up in front, across from the driver. It faced the aisle instead\nof facing forward the way the others did, but Janie didn\u2019t mind. She\nsat side ways and leaned her arms on the window sill. It was glorious.\nThey gained speed as they rolled along through the gentle Wisconsin\nhills. Farmers were at work everywhere, busy with harvesting the grain.\nIt would be a fine day for playing White Horse.\nNow the houses were much closer together. They were nearing the city.\nJanie knew every landmark well. She had been traveling this road ever\nsince she was a baby, but things looked different from the front seat\nof the big bus, just as the trees in the yard looked different when\nyou crawled up and sat on the roof, and then they rolled down a busy\nshopping street.\nThey passed through the outskirts of the city. They stopped near\na ladies\u2019 dress shop to wait for the light to change. There was a\nwoman in the show window, busily draping a manikin. The figure was\nbeautifully gowned and had an expression of great hauteur. Everything\nwas perfect, except her head, and that was shining bald. At her feet\nlay a carefully arranged blond wig. The woman was still draping the\nskirt as the bus started on through the intersection. Janie grinned to\nherself. \u201cI must remember,\u201d she thought, \u201cnever to go out without my\nwig.\u201d\nPeople were beginning to leave the bus now. Janie was going all the way\ndown to the terminal. They had to travel much more slowly, now that the\ntraffic was heavy, and once they had to stop while a bridge went up,\nand a long coal boat slid through on its way up the river. Once over\nthe bridge, they threaded their ponderous way down a hill and over a\nlot of railroad tracks, and then the driver turned and turned at his\nwheel, and they cut sharply into the long dark tunnel at the terminal\nbuilding. There were other big busses lined up, and they nosed into the\nramp just as a boat eases up to a pier.\nBy now Jane felt like a seasoned traveler. She picked up her purse and\nwalked into the waiting room with the others. She made straight for\nthe public telephones, and put her purse on the little shelf in front\nof her. She put a nickel in the slot, and dialed the doctor\u2019s number\nslowly and carefully. \u201cThis is Jane Murray,\u201d she said as the office\ngirl answered. \u201cWhat time would you like to have me come out?\u201d\n\u201cThe doctor can see you at four, Jane.\u201d\n\u201cThank you, Miss Clark. Good-by.\u201d\nThe little watch said half past eleven. She left the terminal, and\nwalked slowly down the busy street. The shop windows were fascinating.\nThere were stores that sold wallpaper and paint, and there were shops\nthat sold nothing but baby clothes. One little place, about the\nsize of the pantry at home, sold nothing but nuts. There was a pan\nof fresh-roasted nuts slowly revolving in the window. An imitation\nsquirrel looked at them greedily out of his imitation eyes.\nA newsboy shouted at the corner, something about \u201cWuxtra, Wuxtra!\u201d He\nshouted so that he got red in the face. Just as Janie got close to him,\nhe stopped to draw a breath, and she looked at him in surprise. He\nwasn\u2019t excited at all. His eyes were as matter of fact as her own. Only\nhis voice was wrought up so. Pigeons circled far overhead. They lived\nin the balconies and towers at the top of the tall buildings.\nA policeman blew his whistle at the street crossing near a big\ndepartment store, and Janie marched across with the crowd. She pushed\non the revolving door until her little cubicle swung her right into\nthe store. My, but it smelled good. No wonder, she was in the perfume\ndepartment. She walked to the notions department, and bought the skein\nof salmon colored thread for Grandma. Notions department ... what a\nfunny name, she thought. I wonder if they call it that because ladies\nsay: \u201cI have a notion to buy this, or I have a notion to buy that.\u201d I\nmust remember to ask someone about it sometime.\nA river ran close to the building, and Jane walked over to the windows\nto look out. A sign read:\n  _Eat Your Lunch In Our Sky Room_\n       DINE ABOVE THE CLOUDS.\nJane squinted up. It wasn\u2019t above the clouds, really, but something\nin her imaginative heart responded to the invitation. She looked in\nher purse. There was the one dollar bill she had earned taking care of\nSammy, and Mom had given her thirty-five cents for lunch and car fare.\n\u201cThat\u2019s where I\u2019m going to eat my lunch,\u201d she said. \u201cThat\u2019s how I\u2019ll\nspend my dollar.\u201d\nShe walked over to the row of elevators. A pretty lady in a neat gray\nuniform clicked a little snapper that she had in her hand, and that\nwas a signal for the elevator to climb. They went up, up, and up, past\ndresses and hats and chairs and mixing bowls. They passed long rolls\nof carpeting that looked like giant crayons laying side by side on the\nfloor. \u201cCall your floor please,\u201d the operator sang out, and at each\nstop people would squeeze out, and new people would squeeze in. They\npassed dress materials and lamps and luggage.\nAt last they came to the top floor, and Janie stepped out into what was\ncalled a lounge. It looked like a large living room, and people sat on\nthe chairs and davenports waiting to meet their friends, or perhaps\nthey were just resting.\nA tall lady who seemed to be the hostess stood at the entrance and\nsmiled and bowed as the people came in. She smiled very sweetly at\nJane. \u201cGood afternoon,\u201d she said. \u201cWhere would you like to sit?\u201d The\nlarge room seemed crowded, but along one side of the room ran a sort\nof porch, a long narrow balcony overlooking the river. It had a curved\nglass roof, like a conservatory.\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Jane eagerly. \u201cCould I sit out there?\u201d\n\u201cYes, you could,\u201d said the lady. \u201cCome along with me,\u201d and she led\nJane to a small table next to one of the windows. The river was eight\nstories straight down, and on all sides the buildings rose even higher\nthan Jane\u2019s balcony. From where she sat, she could see three bridges.\nIt was interesting to see that they crossed the river at an angle\ninstead of in a businesslike straightforward way. Then she remembered a\nstory that Grandma used to tell. It seemed that over one hundred years\nago, when the city was first founded, it was really three separate\ntowns. The people on the west side of the river quarreled with the\npeople on the east bank, and vowed never to have anything to do with\nthem. When the streets were laid out they were careful to see that they\ndid not line up with the streets across the river. They wanted to make\nit inconvenient ever to build a bridge. Now there were many bridges, a\nlittle askew perhaps, but happily making one big friendly town out of\nthe little squabbling villages.\nJane was so absorbed in the view that she forgot to order until a\nsmiling waitress reminded her. Then she remembered she was hungry.\nBreakfast was so long ago. She read everything on the long menu,\nand mentally counted her money. This was to be something different,\nsomething special. No ham sandwich and a glass of milk this time. She\nfinally decided upon an elaborate chicken mixture in a potato basket,\nand a chocolate ice-cream sundae for dessert.\nThe food was delicious, and Janie was engrossed. Once, as she lifted\na spoonful of ice cream, she looked up to see a sea gull watching her\nfrom his perch just out side the window. He wasn\u2019t nearly so pretty\nclose up as he was from a distance. He was quite awkward and ugly\nlooking, except for his eyes. They were like clear, red glass. Janie\nsmiled at him, but he only looked at her bleakly. \u201cGreedy,\u201d he seemed\nto say. \u201cThere you sit, eating chicken and ice cream, while I have to\nscour the river for my dinner.\u201d With that unhappy observation he was\ngone.\n\u201cGrouch,\u201d Jane said, and continued to enjoy her lunch.\nA noisy tug chortled up the river leaving a wake of foam. It was small\nenough to scuttle under the bridges, and the bridge tender only waved\nhis arm in salute, instead of having to turn all the machinery as he\ndid for the big boats.\nThe clock in one of the tall buildings across the river chimed and\nJanie looked up. Goodness! It was one o\u2019clock. The waitress brought the\ncheck, and Janie extracted her crisp one dollar bill and laid it on\nthe slip of paper. She wasn\u2019t quite sure of what to do next, but grown\npeople always put something on the tray for the waitress. She added a\ndime and a nickel from her rapidly dwindling supply.\nAn exquisite creature, dressed in the very latest fashion, walked\nslowly up and down the aisles between the tables. Every curl was in\nplace. Her face had the pleasantly blank expression of a wax doll. Her\nposture was faultless, and she moved so very gracefully and formally,\nit was almost like dancing. Janie held her breath. In spite of all\nthat Mom had taught her, she stared. She had never seen anything so\nbeautiful in all her life, even on circus posters.\nShe rose to leave, but her eyes wouldn\u2019t come away from the beautiful\nlady. She walked backwards, and missing the entrance, bumped into a\npalm tree.\nThe hostess at the entrance looked as if she hadn\u2019t seen the mishap,\nbut her eyes were sparkling.\n\u201cWould you like to be a model when you grow up, dear?\u201d\n\u201cOh yes,\u201d said Jane blissfully walking away on air. All the way down to\nthe street floor she studied her reflection in the tiny mirror at the\nelevator operator\u2019s elbow. She held her chin very high, and lowered her\neyelashes. That was better. With her eyes half closed she looked just\nright.\n\u201cMain floor,\u201d the operator called. \u201cMain floor, watch your step,\nplease.\u201d\nJane floated out with her nose in the air, and tripped on the ledge.\nDown she went, full length, on the floor. Half a dozen people helped\nher up, and were very solicitous.\n\u201cAre you hurt, little girl?\u201d\n\u201cDid you trip?\u201d\n\u201cLet me brush you off.\u201d\n\u201cDear me, such a fall!\u201d\n\u201cCan I get you a drink of water?\u201d\n\u201cPerhaps you\u2019d better sit down for a moment.\u201d\nJanie was embarrassed, but otherwise quite all right. \u201cThank you,\u201d she\nsaid to each one who wanted to help her. \u201cThank you, but I\u2019m not hurt.\nI\u2019m all right now. I only stumbled.\u201d\nShe started off by herself once more, and this time she didn\u2019t lower\nher eyelashes, and she didn\u2019t float. \u201cI\u2019ll wait till I get home,\u201d she\nthought. \u201cI\u2019ll practice that walk in my room.\u201d\nShe looked at her watch once more. It was early in the afternoon, only\none-fifteen. Two hours stretched before her to do with as she pleased.\nShe decided to go to the stamp store. All the Murrays except Mom\ncollected stamps, and they had worn a beaten path to the stamp store.\nMom would have none of it. \u201cI collect stamps, all right,\u201d she said. \u201cI\ncollect them off the floor and under the beds. I shouldn\u2019t be surprised\nif I\u2019d brush stamps out of my hair!\u201d\nThe stamp man was glad to see her. He was small and gray and stooped.\nHe always seemed absorbed in something he was peering at through a\nmagnifying glass. He was like a kindly absent-minded gnome. Janie sat\non a stool at the counter, and pushed off her hat. It was good to sit\ndown after the hot walk up the street. A fly buzzed on the screen at\nthe window, and the clock ticked. That was the only sound as the old\nman and the young girl pored over the bright-colored paper squares. She\nlooked and looked, and at last decided upon three stamps, one for each\nof the boys. She opened her purse and reached for her money, but the\nmoney was gone. She searched again, and turned the purse upside down\nand shook it, but there was nothing in it but a handkerchief and two\nskeins of embroidery cotton.\n\u201cOh, Mr. Marckus,\u201d she wailed. \u201cWhat will I do? I\u2019ve lost my money.\u201d\n\u201cEh? What\u2019s that you say?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ve lost my money. It must have fallen out of my purse when I fell\ngetting out of the elevator. I wanted to buy these stamps for the boys,\nand now I\u2019ve lost my money.\u201d\nMr. Marckus carefully put a stamp down with a pair of tiny tweezers. He\nsquinted at her distressed face.\n\u201cHow much do you need,\u201d he asked.\n\u201cOh, I don\u2019t really need anything. I can walk from here to the\ndoctor\u2019s office, and I\u2019m getting a ride back to the lake with Daddy,\nbut I spent a whole dollar on myself, and now I wish that I could buy\nsomething for the boys.\u201d\n\u201cWell, you can\u2019t charge anything here,\u201d said Mr. Marckus in his dry,\ndusty, little voice. \u201cIf I gave credit to all the young ones who came\nin here, I\u2019d never be able to make enough to pay my rent.\u201d\nJanie\u2019s cheeks burned. \u201cI didn\u2019t mean,\u201d she started to say.\n\u201cI know you didn\u2019t,\u201d said Mr. Marckus. \u201cYour whole family, from your\nGrandmother down have always been good customers of mine. Here, take\nthe stamps, and we\u2019ll say they\u2019re a birthday present. You have a\nbirthday pretty soon, don\u2019t you?\u201d\n\u201cNo,\u201d said Janie, looking happy again. \u201cNot until September.\u201d\n\u201cMakes no difference,\u201d he said. \u201cA present\u2019s a present.\u201d\nHe went back to his magnifying glass, and seemed to pay no attention to\nJanie\u2019s delighted thanks as she prepared to leave.\nThe twenty-two blocks to the doctor\u2019s office seemed very long indeed.\nWhen she got there the waiting room was crowded and she was thirsty and\ntired. When Daddy called for her at five o\u2019clock she thought she had\nnever been so glad to see him.\n\u201cWell, chickie,\u201d he said, pinching her nose. \u201cDid you have a good day?\nDid you have a fine time spending your hard-earned dollar?\u201d\nShe settled back in the front seat gratefully, and the car headed for\nthe lake. \u201cDaddy,\u201d she confessed. \u201cI had fun. It was a good day, but I\nspent my whole dollar on a fancy meal. I ate so much that I felt uneasy\nall afternoon, and now my money is gone and I have nothing to show for\nit, not even a new hair ribbon.\u201d\nDaddy chuckled. \u201cThat\u2019s all right, Janie, my girl,\u201d he said. \u201cWe all\nlearn our little lessons.\u201d\n_Chapter Twelve_\n_The Bear Who Loved Apple Pie_\n[Illustration]\nIt was cool that night at the lake front. The boys built a fire with\nsome old boards that had washed up on the shore and begged Daddy for a\nstory.\n\u201cPlease tell us a story about Indians, Daddy,\u201d said Davey. Bill ran to\ngather some dry willow twigs to get the fire off to a blazing start.\n\u201cI want a bear story,\u201d James insisted. \u201cMom knows a good one about a\nbig brown bear. It\u2019s a true story, too. She told it to me a long time\nago, when I was real little.\u201d\nDad laughed. \u201cIt would appear,\u201d he said, \u201cthat I\u2019m being ousted as the\nstoryteller of the evening. Janie, run and get your mother.\u201d\nMom was standing on the stepladder tacking paper edging on the cupboard\nshelves. She had a hammer in one hand and a handful of tacks in the\nother. \u201cMe?\u201d she asked, gesturing with a hammer. \u201cYou\u2019ve got the\nchampion storyteller of McWade county down there right now. Why don\u2019t\nyou have him entertain you?\u201d\n\u201cIt\u2019s James,\u201d said Jane patiently. \u201cHe\u2019s got it into his head that he\nwants to hear your story about the big brown bear, and I was sent to\nfetch you.\u201d\n\u201cWhy,\u201d said Mom. \u201cI\u2019m flattered. I\u2019ll find my sweater and be right with\nyou.\u201d\n\u201cWelcome to the powwow,\u201d said Daddy rising and bowing low. \u201cThese\nmighty braves,\u201d he explained, \u201cwould like to hear an Indian story and a\nbear story.\u201d\nMom joined in the play. She wrapped her sweater around her shoulders,\nmaking believe it was an Indian blanket, and accepted a cushion near\nthe fire.\n\u201cI think I know the story that James is referring to. It\u2019s a true\nstory about Indians that your Grandmother told to me.\u201d She leaned back\nagainst the willow tree, and made designs in the sand with a willow\ntwig as she talked.\n\u201cIt was about a hundred years ago when the Murrays first moved to\nWisconsin. Your Great-grandfather bought a farm up in Door county. I\nshouldn\u2019t say a farm, because it was really a forest. Before it could\nbe a farm they had to chop the trees down, uproot the stumps, and carry\noff the stones. They built a little cabin in the clearing, and there\nthey lived and worked.\n\u201cYou\u2019ve seen pictures of Great-grandmother in Grandma\u2019s album. She\nlooks very prim and sedate in her stiff silk dress, and her little\nchildren look as if butter wouldn\u2019t melt in their mouths, but they\nwere just the same sort of people that we are now. I think that\nGreat-grandfather must often have been tired and discouraged at the\nend of the day, and Great-grandmother must have been frightened and\nlonely at times, but they worked on and on and lived to see the forest\ndisappear and beautiful cherry orchards bloom in its place.\n\u201cThere were no neighbors near by, but the Indians were friendly. One\nof their trails led past the cabin, and the Murrays used to watch\nthem padding along on their way to the settlement at Sturgeon Bay.\nGreat-grandfather knew two of the braves.\n\u201c\u2018That\u2019s Ninnecons,\u2019 he would point out. \u2018He has no fingers on his left\nhand. He says that a bear bit them off, but most likely he got them\ncaught in a beaver trap. The tall one is Shabeno. He\u2019s a good Indian.\nThey\u2019re walking down to the settlement to sell those baskets you see\npiled on the squaws\u2019 heads.\u2019\n\u201cSummer was a busy time. The entire family helped to grow and gather\nfood for the winter. The children helped in the garden patch, and\nlittle Nick pulled trout out of the brook as fast as he could bait\nhis hook. Blackberries as big as thimbles glistened in the sun at the\nedge of the clearing, and thick clusters of wild grapes gave promise\nof being jelly in the fall. There were raspberries in the woods, but\nGreat-grandfather didn\u2019t want them to go picking berries without him.\n\u201c\u2018A big brown bear lives in the neighborhood,\u2019 he said. \u2018He has a sweet\ntooth. Remember how he stole the wild honey you wanted, Mother? He\nlikes raspberries. You\u2019d most likely meet him in the berry patch.\u2019\n\u201c\u2018He wouldn\u2019t hurt us,\u2019 said Great-grandmother. \u2018He might like\nraspberries. He might even make off with a lamb or a young pig, but he\nwouldn\u2019t hurt a person.\u2019\n\u201c\u2018I wouldn\u2019t be too sure about that,\u2019 said Great-grandfather. \u2018Folks\naround here say that he\u2019s the one who bit off Ninnecons\u2019 fingers.\u2019\n\u201cGreat-grandmother laughed and turned back to her work. There was\nalways work to be done in the little clearing. She made her own soap\nout of ashes and lye and waste fat, and she dipped candles and grew\nherbs in a tiny garden at the side of the cabin, so that she could make\nsome of her own medicines.\n\u201cWhen the summer turned to fall the air was fragrant with the odor of\nsmoked hams and slabs of bacon. Pumpkins were gathered, and dried corn\nhung from the rafters like ripe bananas. The forest turned scarlet and\nyellow and orange, and the slender birch trees at the outskirts looked\nlike a lady\u2019s white fingers held up to the blaze. Indian summer was\na little breath of quiet and content, a Thanksgiving at the end of a\nmeal. Just a moment of drowsing in the sun, listening to the ripened\nnuts falling from the trees and to the partridge rising, and then fall\nwas over, and the northern winter roared in across the Great Lakes.\n\u201cDuring the winter the men worked in the woods cutting down the tall\ntrees, and the women spent most of their time indoors. There was always\na fire in the fireplace, and Great-grandmother would sit there spinning\nand knitting. She taught the children and entertained them, and she\ncooked and mended and baked and kept the cabin tidy. She sprinkled\ncrumbs for the birds, and once when the snow was deep they tamed a\nchipmunk.\n\u201cOften, on moonlit nights, they looked out to see deer feeding in their\ngarden. The gentle creatures would dig down into the snow with their\ndainty hooves and nibble at the frozen stumps of cabbages and the\nremains of corn and chard.\u201d\n\u201cWhy did they eat that old stuff?\u201d asked Davey.\n\u201cBecause they were hungry,\u201d said Bill. \u201cVery hungry. Deer almost starve\nin the wintertime.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d said Mom. \u201cAll the creatures in the forest were\nhungry, but the wolves sounded hungriest of all. When they howled at\nnight it seemed that they were right on the edge of the clearing, and\nGreat-grandmother would pull the pieced quilt up over her head and\nshiver.\u201d\n\u201cHow did the children play in winter,\u201d asked Bill. \u201cCould they go\ncoasting and skating like we do?\u201d\n\u201cYes, but they had neither skates nor sleds as we have now. Nick\ncoasted on barrel staves and he had his own trap line, but Katy and\nNell spent most of their time inside the cabin playing with calico\ndolls.\n\u201cOne day Great-grandmother looked out to see Ninnecons and Shabeno\nfiling past. They were followed by their patient wives who had baskets\npiled on their heads and papooses strapped on their backs.\n\u201c\u2018Oh,\u2019 she said. \u2018I feel so sorry for those poor women and for those\nlittle babies. How cold they must be. I\u2019m going to ask them to come in\nto get warm.\u2019 She threw a shawl over her head and ran to the door.\n\u201c\u2018Ninnecons,\u2019 she called. \u2018Shabeno, won\u2019t you stop for a while and get\nwarm?\u2019\n\u201cWithout answering the four of them turned off the trail and started\nup the path to the cabin. Nelly and Katy darted under the beds like\nfrightened rabbits, and the baby started to cry, but Great-grandmother\nand Nick stood there as if they were giving a reception, and the\nbraves walked in. The squaws stopped at the door and unfastened their\npapooses.\u201d\nMom paused and looked around at the faces in the firelight.\n\u201cDo you know what they did then?\u201d she asked.\nThree mouths made circles saying \u201cNo.\u201d\nBut James knew the answer. \u201cI know, Mom,\u201d he said with his eyes\nsparkling. \u201cI remember now. They parked them outside in the snowbank.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d said Mom smiling. \u201cThe squaws propped their children\nagainst the side of the cabin and followed the braves inside. The men\nwalked over close to the fire and sat on the floor without saying a\nword. Great-grandmother offered chairs to the women, but they declined\nmodestly and sat on the floor near the door. You\u2019ve often heard the\nexpression, \u2018Like a wooden Indian.\u2019 Well, that\u2019s just what they were\nlike. They sat there absorbing the heat without moving a muscle.\nAfter a while the girls picked up courage and edged out from under the\nbed. Little Nick was braver than the others. He came over and stood\nbeside his mother and looked and looked. At last his curiosity got the\nbetter of his good manners. Pointing to the fingerless hand, he said to\nNinnecons,\n\u201c\u2018Did a bear do that?\u2019\n\u201c\u2018Ugh,\u2019 said Ninnecons, \u2018bear.\u2019\n\u201cThat was the extent of the conversation. In another few minutes the\nbraves got up and walked out. The squaws picked up their baskets and\nbabies and followed them down to the trail and then away through the\nsilent forest.\n\u201cMany times before spring came, the Indians passed that way, but they\nnever needed another invitation to come in to get warm. They just\nwalked in. They weren\u2019t being impolite. They were really being very\nlogical and reasonable. If the white squaw wanted them in on one cold\nday, why not on any cold day? Great-grandmother would hear the latch\nclick, and she\u2019d look up from her spinning to see her brown-skinned\nfriends glide in. Occasionally she gave them something to eat, hot tea\nand corn bread. Sometimes they gave her a present in return. Once she\ngot a basket, and toward spring there were gifts of maple sugar that\ndelighted the children.\n\u201cGreat-grandmother longed for spring. She watched the buds grow large\non the maple trees. Morning came earlier and evening stayed longer.\nOne day she looked out to see a great flock of geese, with their necks\noutstretched, flying in perfect formation to the Canadian lakes. She\ncalled to the children to watch them.\n\u201c\u2018See,\u2019 she said. \u2018Spring is here at last.\u2019\n\u201cThe snow melted and it rained. It rained and rained. The road to the\nsettlement was impassible. It was so muddy that the oxen would have\nbogged down at every step. Great-grandmother didn\u2019t mind except that\nthe sugar barrel was empty. The flour barrel was almost empty too.\nThere was a little tea in the canister over the fireplace, and part of\na slab of bacon hung from the rafters.\n\u201c\u2018We won\u2019t be hungry for another week or so,\u2019 said Great-grandmother\nas she poured corn meal into a bowl and stirred away at the all too\nfamiliar johnnycake.\u201d\n\u201cWhat\u2019s a johnnycake, Mom?\u201d asked Davey.\n\u201cIt\u2019s another name for corn bread,\u201d said Mom and she kept right on with\nher story.\n\u201cAt the side of the cabin rose a brown hump of earth with a wooden\nventilator sticking out of the top. It looked like a fat brown man\nsleeping with a pipe in his mouth. Do any of you children know what it\nwas?\u201d\nThey looked puzzled, but Janie had a gleam in her eye. \u201cI think I\nknow,\u201d she said. \u201cIt must have been a root cellar. We saw them in New\nSalem where Abraham Lincoln once lived. Weren\u2019t they used for storing\npotatoes and things like that?\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s right,\u201d said Mom. \u201cIt was a root cellar. Great-grandmother\nsearched carefully, but the potatoes were gone, and the carrot bin\nwas empty. The last of the turnips and pumpkins had been used in\nMarch. There never was a root cellar that looked more like Old Mother\nHubbard\u2019s cupboard. She picked up her candle and started to leave when\nshe spied a crock jar in a far corner.\n\u201c\u2018Why they\u2019re apples,\u2019 she exclaimed. \u2018Enough dried apples to make a\npie, if only I had some sugar.\u2019 She didn\u2019t tell her husband about what\nshe had found. I\u2019ll wait until the sugar barrel comes, she thought, and\nsurprise him.\n\u201cAt last the rain stopped and the sun and the wind dried the fields and\nthe trails. The road to Sturgeon Bay was open, and Great-grandfather\nstarted off with the ox team and the big-wheeled wagon. The trip took\ntwo days, and on the evening of the second day the creaking of the\nwagon wheels and the lowing of the oxen announced his return.\n\u201cHow happy they were to be all together again. Great-grandfather\npicked the children up and swung them in the air. The little girls each\ngot a stick of striped peppermint candy and Nick got a mouth organ.\nGreat-grandmother got a length of calico for a new dress.\n\u201cAfter supper they sat in the dooryard enjoying the mild spring\nevening. Nick almost learned to play Yankee Doodle, and he entertained\nthem while his father talked of the news at the settlement.\n\u201c\u2018I saw a Boston paper,\u2019 he said. \u2018The Texas treaty of annexation has\nbeen signed. Tyler will find himself in trouble over that. The Mexican\ngovernment says it means war. The Indians have pulled out of the\ncountry along the shore of Lake Superior, and the white men are moving\nin fast. Bob McIntyre says that iron has been discovered at Marquette\nand copper at Kewanaw Point.\u2019\n\u201cGreat-grandfather leaned over and knocked the bowl of his pipe against\na rock. \u2018I heard something amusing, Mother,\u2019 he said. \u2018Folks say that a\ndentist in Hartford, Connecticut, has discovered a painless method of\npulling teeth. Laughing gas, they call it. Ha! Ha! Did you ever hear of\nanything so far fetched?\u2019\n\u201c\u2018What are they reading?\u2019 asked Great-grandmother with her hand on her\ncheek.\n\u201c\u2018Reading, indeed,\u2019 said her husband. \u2018Sure, and they\u2019re all too busy\nfor that, but if it was reading they had time for it would be a book by\na Frenchman, Alexander Dumas.\u2019\n\u201c\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Great-grandmother, leaning forward. \u2018What is the name of\nthe book?\u2019\n\u201c\u2018It\u2019s a novel,\u2019 said Great-grandfather, \u2018by the name of \u201cThe Count\nof Monte Cristo\u201d, but that,\u2019 he continued, \u2018is of no real importance.\nSomething wonderful and strange has happened that will conquer the\nspace of loneliness of this great country more than anything that has\nhappened so far. A man by the name of Morse has built a telegraph line\nfrom Baltimore to Washington. Imagine that, over forty miles.\u2019\n\u201c\u2018Did he send a message?\u2019 asked Great-grandmother. \u2018What did he say?\u2019\n\u201cGreat-grandfather looked up at the first star. He said, \u2018What hath God\nwrought?\u2019\n\u201cBright and early the next morning Great-grandmother took a hatchet and\nopened the sugar barrel. She sent Nick to the root cellar for a crock\nof dried apples, and she worked busily at her pie. The children stood\naround and watched her. My! it smelled good.\n\u201cJust as it was time for the pie to come out of the oven there was a\nclick of the latch and who should walk in but Ninnecons and Shabeno. Oh\nbother, thought Great-grandmother. They will sit here all day unless\nI give them some, and if I cut it up there won\u2019t be enough for Johnny\nwhen he comes home for his dinner. There are no apples to make another.\nPerhaps it will go around if I give them extra small pieces. She bent\nover the oven and lifted out the most luscious, mouth-watering apple\npie that you ever saw. The Indians had never smelled anything half so\ngood. Their nostrils widened, and their black beady eyes shone.\n\u201cGreat-grandmother carried it proudly over to the open window, and\nplaced it on the sill. \u2018You mustn\u2019t come too close,\u2019 she warned the\neager children. \u2018It\u2019s very hot, and you might burn yourselves.\u2019\n\u201c\u2018Oh please, Mother. When may we have some?\u2019\n\u201c\u2018When your father comes in from the fields at noon.\u2019\n\u201cThe Indians sat against the wall and smoked silently, and the children\nplayed on the floor. Suddenly little Katy pointed and screamed and Mom\nrushed to the window. There facing her, was a great, shaggy, brown\nbear! He stood up on his hind legs, and right before her astonished\neyes he picked up the pie in his paws and ran off with it.\n\u201cNow, your pioneer ancestor didn\u2019t stop to think of the bear as a\ndangerous animal. All that she knew was that a thief was making off\nwith her precious pie.\n\u201c\u2018Stop!\u2019 she cried, picking up her rolling pin. \u2018Don\u2019t you dare run off\nwith my pie!\u2019\n\u201cThe solemn Indians and the goggle-eyed children followed her outside.\nAcross the clearing they raced, the great upright bear with the pie in\nhis paws, and the angry little woman brandishing her rolling pin.\n\u201c\u2018Stop! Stop!\u2019 she called out. \u2018Put that pie down this instant!\u2019\n\u201cThen something wonderful happened. The heat of the pie tin penetrated\nthe thick leathery paws of the bear and burned him. With a roar of\nfright, he dropped the pie and disappeared into the woods at the edge\nof the clearing.\n\u201cTriumphantly, Great-grandmother picked up the pie with the edges of\nher apron, and bore it back to her admiring family and friends. She cut\na small piece for each of the Indians and they went their way. When her\nhusband came in for dinner he roared with laughter.\n\u201c\u2018Janey, Janey,\u2019 he cried, slapping his knee with the palm of his hand.\n\u2018What a wonder you are! I knew that you had complete mastery over me\nand the children, but I didn\u2019t know that the wild beasts of the forest\nobeyed you!\u2019\n\u201cNinnecons and Shabeno were profoundly impressed. The story\nspread through all that part of the country, and from then on,\nwhen the Indians spoke of Great-grandmother, they called her\nWee-a-gon-hee-meechie, which means \u2018small squaw who chased large bear.\u2019\u201d\nThe fire was almost out. The children stirred sleepily. Daddy rose and\nhelped Mom to her feet.\n\u201cThank you, my dear. That was a very fine story. How does it happen\nthat you know so much about my family?\u201d\n\u201cWhy that\u2019s very easily explained,\u201d answered Mom. \u201cDuring the long\nsummer evenings when Grandma and I are sitting on the porch she tells\nme everything of interest that has happened to the family as far back\nas she can remember.\u201d\n_Chapter Thirteen_\n_An Honest Reward_\n[Illustration]\nIt was Saturday morning and James lay full length on the wicker\ndavenport reading _Boy\u2019s Life_ and yearning for a really sharp\npocketknife so that he could whittle. \u201cJust look at those penguins,\u201d he\nsaid to Jane. \u201cBoy, I\u2019d surely like to make some like that.\u201d\nMom was sitting at the end of the long table. She was making her\ngrocery list. \u201cI\u2019ll give a prize,\u201d she announced, \u201cto whichever side\nhas the cleanest bathhouse, the boys or the girls.\u201d\n\u201cWhat is it going to be,\u201d demanded James. \u201cCandy?\u201d Mom continued to\nwrite, and answered without raising her eyes. \u201cI don\u2019t know yet what\nit\u2019s going to be, but I do know that _if_ it\u2019s going to be, there\u2019ll be\na clean bathhouse first. My prize goes to the cleanest side.\u201d\n\u201cOh boy,\u201d said Jane. \u201cThis is easy. I\u2019ve got the cleanest side to start\nout with, because Mom and Aunt Claire don\u2019t toss stuff on the floor\nlike you boys do.\u201d\n\u201cThat\u2019s no fair,\u201d yelled James. \u201cIt\u2019s a cheat!\u201d\n\u201cIt\u2019s not a cheat,\u201d retorted Jane. \u201cI had all sorts of company on my\nside during the week and they left hairpins and face powder all over\nthe place.\u201d\nMom finished her grocery list and stood up to leave. \u201cWell,\u201d she said.\n\u201cI\u2019m still offering a prize. If you two would rather argue about it\nthan win it, I\u2019ll give the job to Davey and Bill instead.\u201d\n\u201cNo, no, Mom. We\u2019ll take it. We\u2019ll go right away,\u201d and they ran in the\ndirection of the bathhouse.\nJane opened the door and got to work. She swept the floor, wiped off\nthe bench and even polished the mirror. While she was hanging fresh\ntowels she called to James.\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you hurry? Mom will be back from shopping, and I\u2019ll win.\u201d\n\u201cAw, I could win with both hands tied behind my back. I can clean mine\nin five minutes and still win.\u201d\nHe lay flat on the pier, idly kicking the boat back and forth, but\nall of a sudden he realized that his boasting wouldn\u2019t take him much\nfarther, because Jane had almost finished with her side and he still\nhad everything to do. He sauntered over to the bathhouse, being careful\nto give the impression of great leisure, just as Jane emerged.\n\u201cI\u2019ll win,\u201d she said cockily. \u201cYou haven\u2019t got a chance. You started\ntoo late.\u201d\n\u201cPooh, pooh,\u201d said the master mind, but the minute her back was\nturned, he hurried as fast as he could. He was almost finished when\nMom returned from shopping. All that was left was a pile of dust in\nthe middle of the floor. Jane had taken the dust pan back to the\ncottage with her. If he swept it out on the brick steps he would be\ndisqualified. He could pick it up in his hands and stuff it in his\npockets, but there were no pockets in this suit. Mom was on her way\nacross the lawn for inspection right this minute.\n\u201cAha,\u201d he thought, in a burst of pure mischief, and as quick as a wink\nhe swept the remaining dust under the partition and over to the girl\u2019s\nside. Broom in hand and eyes dancing, he stepped outside and bowed to\nMom.\n\u201cEverything is in order, Mom,\u201d he said. \u201cI get the prize.\u201d\nMom stepped inside the boy\u2019s side and looked around carefully. \u201cVery\ngood,\u201d she said. Then she stepped out and walked around to the girl\u2019s\nside. She looked around carefully again. James giggled, expecting her\nto see the joke, but her face was grave as she noticed the dust spread\nfan-wise from under the partition.\n\u201cYou have the cleanest bathhouse, James,\u201d she said. \u201cYou win the\nprize,\u201d and she gave him a candy bar.\nJames gulped. \u201cBut Mom....\u201d\nShe looked at him in a funny sort of way, but she didn\u2019t say any more,\nand then she walked up toward the house.\nJanie was getting ready to go to Deerpath with the Landrys when the\nprize was announced, so her normal surprise and protest were somewhat\nmuffled in the mild excitement of leaving.\nThat was the end of it. James felt baffled. He walked around with the\ncandy bar in his hand. What was the matter with Mom? Couldn\u2019t she see a\njoke?\nThe rest of the afternoon passed in a dull sort of way. Mom was busy\nwith preparations for Sunday and she didn\u2019t seem to pay any attention\nto him. Billy and Davey were fishing at the dam and Janie wasn\u2019t home.\nHe walked around with his face squinted up in a frown, kicking at tufts\nof grass.\n\u201cMaybe tonight I can finish my sunset,\u201d he muttered.\nEarly in the season Aunt Claire gave James a piece of canvas and some\ntubes of oil paint.\n\u201cPaint the sunset,\u201d she encouraged him. \u201cYou draw well and we have such\nbeautiful sunsets out here. See what you can do.\u201d\nEvery evening, as the sun sank, James hauled forth his canvas and\nbrushes. He\u2019d get everything organized for painting. The sun got\nsplashed in the middle of the horizon, an oily red blob surrounded by\nsausage-like clouds in a glazed blue sky. His nose would wrinkle in a\ndistressed sort of way.\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t the way Aunt Claire\u2019s sunsets look.\u201d\nBy the time he had mixed the right shade of purple for the low-banked\nclouds the sun had disappeared and he\u2019d put everything away until the\nnext evening. The next evening the clouds that had been fat and fluffy\nwere long and wispy, and the rose colored sky of the night before would\nbe changed to gold.\nHurriedly mixing his colors, he\u2019d attempt to change his canvas to match\nthe changed sunset, but again the magic colors eluded him and darkness\ncame before he was finished.\n\u201cCreepers, I never can work fast enough. I\u2019ll never finish this thing.\u201d\nAs the days went by the canvas became more and more covered with paint,\nbut James wasn\u2019t cast down. He was always certain that the next night\nwould see the finished picture.\nOn this Saturday night there was no sunset, only a solid bank of black\nstorm clouds.\n\u201cMake everything fast,\u201d called Dad. \u201cWe\u2019re going to have a blow,\u201d and\nthen the sun appeared between a crack in the clouds.\n\u201cHurry, boy, hurry,\u201d called Dad. \u201cFinish your picture.\u201d\nJames ran for the paints. The many-colored clouds of previous attempts\nwere hastily covered with black and gray. The sun peeped through as\nalways, and a few quick strokes with a clean brush made a golden halo.\nThe trees at the horizon were greenish black, and he finished the broad\nsweeps of leaden gray that were the lake just as the first rain hit him.\n\u201cHurray,\u201d he exulted. \u201cI\u2019ve got it! I\u2019ve got it,\u201d as he ran for the\ncottage holding the masterpiece over his head.\n\u201cThat\u2019s wonderful,\u201d beamed Aunt Claire. \u201cYou\u2019ve got real\nstick-to-it-iveness. You have talent, too, but persistence\nis more important. Let\u2019s prop your sunset here on the floor\nagainst the wall so that everyone can see it.\u201d\nAll evening James heard nothing but praise and admiration for his black\nsunset. By bed time he was beginning to feel pretty good, but then he\nreached his hand in his pocket and felt that old candy bar.\nSunday was always a quiet time at the lake. The grown folks sat around\nreading and taking naps, and even the children quieted down. Jane drove\nto church with Daddy and Aunt Claire. She wore her white dress, and her\nwide-brimmed floppy hat. All the way along there were folks going to\nchurch. Cars slid out of side roads and chortled and wheezed down farm\nlanes. They streamed up hill and down on the road to Deerpath. It would\nbe fun, thought Jane, to watch them from a plane. They would look like\na procession of shiny-backed beetles.\nThe church was crowded with summer people, and Daddy stopped at the\ndoor to speak to some folks he knew. Inside, it was dark and cool. The\naltars were filled with beautiful garden flowers. There were roses\nduring June, and larkspur, then white gladioli and lilies, making the\nair heavy with their perfume. When the phlox and asters appeared Janie\nalways knew it was time to start thinking about going back to town.\nThe windows were swung open, and inquisitive sparrows came to the ledge\nand looked in. Sometimes a fat bee would lumber about in the roses, and\nthen take off, heavily, for the summer world outside. Janie thought of\nthe psalm:\n  \u201cI have loved, O Lord, the beauty of Thy house,\n   And the place where Thy glory dwelleth.\u201d\nThis must be the place, she thought, looking around her, here in a\ncountry church, with the doors and windows flung wide, filled with\nmusic, and fragrant with the flowers of a country garden.\nOn the way home they stopped at the drug store to buy a paper. Later\nbreakfast was served on the terrace at the back of the cottage. It was\nanother one of Mom\u2019s romantic ideas. It wasn\u2019t entirely practical. You\nsee, the terrace wasn\u2019t screened. Birds and butterflies entered at\ntheir will, also dogs and mosquitos and ordinary flies.\nBuick, the neighbor\u2019s dog, always enjoyed having breakfast on the\nterrace with the Murrays. He strolled over on this particular morning\nlooking around for his old enemy, Butch. Not seeing him, he made\nstraight for Janie\u2019s chair. She absently gave him a piece of her\ncoffee cake, and went on reading the funnies. Aunt Claire was always\ngenerous, so Buick looked pathetic and waited. Another piece of coffee\ncake dropped into his jaws, and he said \u201cThank-you\u201d in dog fashion, and\nstrolled over to Daddy\u2019s chair.\nNow, Daddy didn\u2019t like dogs in general and Buick in particular. Not\nthat he would ever hurt a dog, or even a fly for that matter. He just\ninsulted them by ignoring them, and he was ignoring Buick completely\njust now. Deep in the sport page, he read with perfect concentration.\nBuick waited patiently, but no gifts were forthcoming. There was a\nlovely curled strip of bacon getting cold while Daddy read. It was so\nclose to his moist black nose he could almost touch it. It smelled so\ngood he quivered. Suddenly there was a black streak of flying dog, and\na murderous roar out of Daddy. Buick and the bacon were gone.\n\u201cBah!\u201d Daddy fumed, shaking his paper in mock rage. \u201cButch is right\nin his instincts about that pup. He\u2019s nothing but a low down bacon\nsnitcher.\u201d\nIn the afternoon Davey took Butch down to the lake front where they\nwatched \u201cold rubber-back\u201d paddle about in his tub. The boys lay on the\npier watching a sailboat race, and Janie took a pillow, an apple, and a\nbook and made for her favorite perch. It was up in the branches of the\nold willow tree, right at the shore of the lake. The branches were as\nthick as a man\u2019s arm, and worn smooth with the clambering of the Murray\nchildren. Ever since they were little Janie and the boys had played\nup there. You could see all over the lake. It was cool and quiet, and\nif you knew just how to prop your pillow, it was comfortable too. She\ntook a big bite of apple and sighed contentedly. This is the kind of a\nSunday afternoon I like, she thought.\nJames walked under her tree perch and glanced up.\n\u201cCan I come up, too, if I get a book?\u201d\n\u201cYou can, but may you?\u201d\n\u201cSmarty!\u201d\nJane laughed. \u201cCome ahead. There\u2019s room for the whole family.\u201d\nJames ran for the cottage to get an apple and a book. The door of his\nroom was closed. It was a pretty nice room, and he was very proud of\nit. It was always a comfortable place to come back to. As he opened\nthe door he noticed that the radio was turned on and the windows were\nopen. The pillows were plumped up in just the right way for reading.\nThe bedspread was neatly drawn across the bed and the books had been\nrestacked, and ... right in the middle of the room stood an enormous\npile of dust!\nHe turned and ran to the front yard and climbed the tree where Jane was\nsitting. Much to her astonishment, he handed her a wrinkled, slightly\nmelted candy bar.\n_Chapter Fourteen_\n_Dad Finds a Treasure_\n[Illustration]\nBilly and Jane sat on the big stone posts at the gate swinging their\nlegs and watching for the mailman. They tried to guess what he would\nbring.\n\u201cJames will get his usual letter from that stamp dealer down east,\u201d\nsaid Jane. \u201cHe will say: \u2018Dear Mr. Murray, I received your want list,\nbut you failed to include your money\u2019 or he\u2019ll say: \u2018Dear Mr. Murray,\nI received your dollar and three cents, but you failed to include your\nwant list. Please advise, etc.\u2019\u201d They laughed merrily at absent-minded\nJames and his difficulties, and then Jane heard the familiar squeal of\nthe mailman\u2019s brakes.\n\u201cHere he comes,\u201d she cried. \u201cI\u2019ll race you to the mailbox!\u201d They jumped\noff the posts and ran across the road. Jane had the shorter distance,\nbut Billy won by throwing himself full length on the grass and sliding\nto touch the post.\n\u201cReally, Billy,\u201d panted Jane. \u201cSometimes you use the foulest and the\nmost unfairest means....\u201d\nBilly hooted. \u201cFoulest and unfairest!\u201d Then, imitating her angry voice,\nhe said, \u201cReally, Jane, you use the most unusual adjectives!\u201d\nShe threw a shoe at him, and he ran away laughing.\nThe mailman\u2019s car slid in close to the mailbox. He had a brown face,\nall wrinkled from smiling. He was an usher at the little church in\nDeerpath, and when he passed the collection plate to Janie on Sunday\nhis eyes crinkled up in a smile just as they did now when he passed the\nletters from box to box at the lake.\n\u201cHere you are, young lady,\u201d he said. \u201cLetters for everybody today.\u201d\nThere was \u201cPopular Mechanics\u201d for the boys, and a letter for Mom from\na dress shop. There were some letters for Daddy in long business\nenvelopes and a post card for Davey. At the bottom of the heap was a\nsquare envelope addressed to:\n    Miss Jane Murray,\n        Oak Lake, Wisconsin.\n\u201cFrom Dor,\u201d Janie exclaimed, and sat down on the grass to read it.\n  Hi, Janie,\n  How are you? I am fine. My mother is going to Michigan tomorrow,\n  and I\u2019d like to come to visit you for a few days. I will come on\n  the five o\u2019clock bus,\nJanie gathered her mail together and ran down to the cottage with\nher news. \u201cHere you are, my wonderful family,\u201d she said. \u201cMail for\nall of you.\u201d Mom sat down to glance at her letter and the boys tore\nthe wrapper from their magazine. Davey\u2019s post card was from a school\nfriend, and he chuckled at the picture on the cover. It was a garish\nscene of an over-sized fish leaping into a row boat with a frightened\nfisherman. \u201cLook,\u201d he said, \u201cat the big fish Greenie caught.\u201d\nJanie waited for Mom to finish, and then she burst out with, \u201cMay Dor\ncome? I have a letter from her. May she come tomorrow?\u201d\nMom blinked at the suddenness of it all, and put her glasses on the\ntable. \u201cWhy yes, of course. I\u2019d be glad to have her. What does she\nsay?\u201d Jane handed her the letter, and she glanced through it quickly.\nThen she smiled.\n\u201cIt\u2019s not tomorrow,\u201d she said. \u201cIt\u2019s today. This letter was written\nyesterday. She\u2019ll be out on the five o\u2019clock bus this afternoon.\u201d\nThe boys were deeply absorbed in a marvelous invention that would make\nan iceboat out of an old baby carriage. Jane grinned and put her finger\nto her lips. \u201cDon\u2019t tell them,\u201d she said to Mom. \u201cThey weren\u2019t paying\nattention to what we said.\u201d\nShe held out her arms for Butch. \u201cCome, my little brown friend. Let\u2019s\ngo down to the pier and catch flies.\u201d She stretched out on the hot\nboards and dreamed in the sun. Butchie scrambled around on the braces\nunder the pier, snatching at shadows and frightening schools of timid\nminnows. In a little while the boys came down and jumped into the boat\nand rowed away. Janie stretched lazily. Two weeks from today, she\nthought, I\u2019ll be back in school. It doesn\u2019t seem possible. Why the\nsummer has just begun. I don\u2019t like to leave this. The sky will be just\nas blue when we\u2019re gone, and the water will be just as warm. Of course\nschool won\u2019t be too bad, and this year there\u2019ll be dancing class. I\u2019ll\nwaltz and waltz (she dreamed), in a pink tulle gown, with pale pink\nostrich feathers in my hair.\n_Bump...._ The boys banged into the pier full force with the boat and\nJanie sat straight up.\n\u201cHey, hey!\u201d she yelled. \u201cWhat are you trying to do, break the pier\ndown? Why are you back so soon? I thought you were going fishing.\u201d\nThe boys laughed at her confusion. \u201cWe caught something right away,\u201d\nsaid Billy, \u201cso we brought it back. Hold it up James.\u201d\nIt was a small green turtle. His curved green legs pawed the air as\nJames held him up, and his under shell was red, green, and yellow in a\nmost interesting pattern.\n\u201cI\u2019m going to bring him back to town and give him to Robin,\u201d said\nJames. \u201cHe can keep him in his bathtub.\u201d\n\u201cI guess his Grandmother will have something to say about that,\u201d said\nJane primly.\n\u201cWell,\u201d James argued, \u201cwhy should she care if the turtle stays in the\nbathtub? Turtles are clean. They\u2019re almost the cleanest creatures in\nthe whole world, and she could lift him up if someone wanted to take a\nbath, couldn\u2019t she?\u201d\n\u201cMaybe it\u2019s a snapper,\u201d said Jane. \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t like it if Robin\u2019s\nGrandmother had her finger snapped off by a turtle, would you?\u201d\n\u201cAw,\u201d said James in disgust. \u201cYou\u2019re always thinking of something like\nthat,\u201d and gathering his turtle and his fishing tackle up in his arms,\nhe started away. Just as he left the pier he turned and narrowed his\neyes. With just one word he summed up what he thought of Jane, her\narguments, her ideas, and her contemporaries.\n\u201cDames ...\u201d he said, witheringly.\nJanie turned and hid her face in her arms, and laughed until she shook.\nThen she gathered up Butchie and ran for the cottage.\nGrandma was peeling green apples for pie. \u201cGrandma,\u201d she said. \u201cHave\nyou noticed that this summer has been much too short?\u201d\n\u201cYes, Jane. Every summer seems a little shorter than the last. When\nI was a little girl the summer days seemed to stretch in front of me\nlike years. Now I have so much to do and so much to think about that\nthe years fly past like days.\u201d A long green peeling fell to the floor\nin the shape of a treble clef, and Grandma\u2019s sharp little paring knife\ntwinkled around another apple. \u201cYour mother had a telephone message,\u201d\nshe said. \u201cIt seems that your friend Dor is coming out on the five\no\u2019clock bus.\u201d\n\u201cOh goody, oh wonderful, Grandma!\u201d She gave her a hug that sent the\nlittle green apples flying all over the porch.\n\u201cYou wild one,\u201d said Grandma, straightening her glasses. Jane was down\non her hands and knees searching for the runaways.\n\u201cI\u2019m so sorry,\u201d she said. \u201cJust for that I\u2019ll stay here and help you\npeel them.\u201d\nThe afternoon passed quickly, and at five o\u2019clock Mom drove down to the\nbus station with Janie beside her and the three curious boys in the\nback. The passengers got off on the other side of the bus, so they saw\ntheir feet and legs first. It was easy to identify Mr. Williams by his\nbrief case. The bus driver helped an old lady off with her suitcase and\nthen a pair of sun-tanned legs swung off the steps and Dor appeared\naround the corner of the bus.\n\u201cIt\u2019s Dorothy Dreyer,\u201d cried Billy.\n\u201cDreyer,\u201d squealed James, \u201cwith her braces off! Boy! what teeth! A\nsmile like a movie star.\u201d Everybody laughed at that, and they started\nback for the cottage.\n\u201cOh,\u201d said Janie, \u201cI\u2019m so glad you could come. Let me hold some of your\nthings. What in the world do you have in this one? It\u2019s heavy.\u201d\n\u201cWorms,\u201d said the practical Miss Dreyer. \u201cI knew the ground would be\ndry now, and you\u2019d be running out of bait, so I brought my own bait.\u201d\nMom looked a trifle dashed, but the boys beamed on her.\n\u201cDreyer,\u201d said Bill. \u201cYou would have made a swell boy.\u201d\nThey laughed and joked as they carried her stuff down to the cottage.\nEveryone seemed to feel lighthearted and gay. They sat around the table\ntalking until it was almost dark. Someone started to sing, and they all\njoined in. Daddy played the piano, and the children made so much noise\nthat Buick heard them next door and started to howl.\nAfter the commotion died down the two girls strolled down to the\npier, and sat there dipping their toes in the water and watching the\nreflection of the stars.\n\u201cDo you know what?\u201d Dor asked.\n\u201cNo, what?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m going to be a vet.\u201d\n\u201cA what?\u201d\n\u201cA vet. You know, a horse doctor. I just love horses and dogs, and I\u2019m\nreally very good at taking care of them. I\u2019ve decided to devote my life\nto them.\u201d\n\u201cPooh,\u201d said Janie inelegantly. \u201cWhat about the ballet? Last year you\nsaid you were going to be a ballerina, and spend the rest of your life\non your tiptoes.\u201d\n\u201cThat was last year,\u201d said Dor patiently. \u201cA lot can happen to a girl\u2019s\nlife in a year.\u201d\n\u201cYes, that\u2019s true,\u201d Janie agreed. Dor stretched out and lay on her back\non the pier, looking at the stars overhead.\n\u201cWhat are you going to be, Janie?\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m going to be a frozen corpse if I don\u2019t go into the house and get a\nsweater. I\u2019m beginning to sneeze.\u201d She started for the cottage. \u201cDo you\nwant to come in or shall I bring a sweater for you?\u201d\n\u201cNever mind about a sweater,\u201d Dor said, \u201cbut send Billy down with a\nflashlight. We\u2019ll go hunting frogs.\u201d\nJanie curled up on the davenport with an apple and a book. Now and then\nshe would glance up to see the light flash on and off along the shore\nas Dor and Billy and James pursued their favorite pastime.\n\u201cWhat are those children doing down there?\u201d asked Grandma.\n\u201cThey\u2019re catching frogs,\u201d Mom answered.\n\u201cCatching frogs? Lands sakes! What for?\u201d\n\u201cJust for fun. They let them go again.\u201d\nGrandma looked puzzled. \u201cThey\u2019re really entertaining Dor,\u201d Mom went on.\n\u201cIf she couldn\u2019t have a frog hunt when she came out here for a visit,\nI\u2019m sure she\u2019d be disappointed.\u201d\nSoon after daybreak Billy scratched on Janie\u2019s screen. There was no\nresponse. He called softly. Still no response. Then he shouted: \u201cIf you\nlazy girls don\u2019t get up and come fishing with us we\u2019ll go alone.\u201d Janie\ngrunted and Dor stirred. \u201cAnd,\u201d Billy continued, \u201cwe\u2019ll take the worm\ncan, and we\u2019ll use up all the worms.\u201d That helped.\n\u201cWait for us. We\u2019ll be right out.\u201d\nThey had breakfast at the kitchen sink, and Davey heard them and\ndemanded to go along. Five was a crowd for the row boat, but he looked\nso eager it was hard to refuse him. \u201cAll right,\u201d Billy said, \u201cbut sit\ntight, and don\u2019t catch any turtles.\u201d\nThey pushed off in the mist. Billy and James took the oars, the girls\nsat on the back seat, and Davey sat in the front. They decided to try\nthe pond first. Fishing was fair. By nine o\u2019clock they had about a\ndozen blue gills. Dor was in favor of staying, but the Murrays knew\nthey could do better than that.\n\u201cLet\u2019s go to the dam,\u201d said Bill, and they started down along the\neastern shore.\nThey rowed along quietly until Janie pointed to the shore and said,\n\u201cLook! Look at the smoke! The old man\u2019s lot is on fire!\u201d There was just\nenough breeze to fan the flames and while they watched the fire spread\nrapidly.\n\u201cGolly,\u201d said Bill. \u201cIt\u2019s getting close to the shack. It\u2019s been so dry\nthe last couple of weeks that if the fire gets over there near those\nold dry boards, everything will go.\u201d\nJust then the old man appeared at the door of his shack and saw the\ngrass fire. He grabbed a shovel and began to thump at the flames\nvigorously. He couldn\u2019t quite catch up with them. As fast as he would\nget one patch extinguished, another would creep around behind him.\n\u201cWhat are we sitting here for,\u201d asked Dor getting to her feet. \u201cCome\non, let\u2019s help him put that fire out.\u201d\nBill looked at Janie, and Janie looked perplexed. James blurted out,\n\u201cHe doesn\u2019t like us. He chased us out of there once, and Daddy and Mom\ntold us to keep out of his way.\u201d\nDor was indignant. \u201cDo you mean to say that your Dad and Mom wouldn\u2019t\neven let you go in there and throw a pail of water on a fire? Do you\nmean to say that you\u2019d sit here and watch that old man\u2019s house burn\ndown?\u201d Dor was angry. Janie was angry too.\n\u201cHis house isn\u2019t burning down. It\u2019s just an old grass fire, and he can\nsee us plain enough. If he wanted us to help he\u2019d say so.\u201d\nAlmost as if he had heard their words, the old man turned and shouted\nat them, \u201cHey there, you young fella in the boat, come in here and help\nme put this fire out. Can\u2019t you see that it\u2019s getting away from me? Get\na move on you!\u201d\nDor answered for the Murrays, \u201cHere we come!\u201d and they pulled for shore\nwith all their might.\nBilly and James ran for the pump to get water, and Dor and Janie picked\nup some loose boards as they ran and beat at the rapidly spreading\nflames. The heat was intense and the smoke choked them, but they\nstomped and smothered with all their strength. Davey was sent back to\nthe pump. \u201cYou keep pumping,\u201d Billy yelled, \u201cand we\u2019ll run back and\nforth with the buckets.\u201d\nThe smoke kept getting in Janie\u2019s eyes, and it hurt so that the tears\nran. Her face burned, and she could even feel the heat through the\nsoles of her thin summer shoes. Oh, why didn\u2019t somebody come? They\u2019d\nall burn up in this dreadful fire. She had forgotten all about her fear\nof the old man. In the excitement they pounded away at the fire, side\nby side.\nSuddenly she turned and looked up at him. He had stopped and was\nholding his side. He had a queer expression on his face. He reached out\nas if to grab something, and then fell at her feet.\n\u201cHelp! Help!\u201d screamed Janie. \u201cDor, James, Billy! He\u2019s fainted.\u201d\nDor came leaping over the burned stubble. Her face was a black smudge,\nand she had a wild look in her eye.\n\u201cThrow water on him,\u201d she cried. \u201cGet him out of here!\u201d Billy and James\nreached under his shoulders, and Janie and Dor caught hold of the\nstrong leather belt at his waist. They pulled and tugged with all their\nmight. He was awfully heavy. Davey yelled from behind them, \u201cHey kids,\nthe fire is getting bad again.\u201d There was no choice. They dropped the\nunconscious man and raced back to the fire.\n\u201cDavey!\u201d Billy shouted. \u201cYou get out of here! Run to the nearest house\nand get help, and then run home and get Daddy!\u201d\nDavey\u2019s short legs disappeared through the smoke, and Janie\u2019s heart\nsank. One less to pump and to carry water. The old man lay just where\nthey left him. He seemed dead. There was so much smoke in the air they\ncould hardly see each other, and as the flames raced up the tall weed\nstalks bits of burning grass would fall on their arms and hands. James\nwas sobbing as he pounded away with the flat side of his shovel. Billy\nwas coughing and gasping.\n\u201cOne more patch,\u201d Dor called out. \u201cThis is the last bad spot! If we can\nput this one out, the others aren\u2019t so bad. It\u2019s reached the lake on\none side, and it\u2019s almost at the road on the other.\u201d\nThey beat at the fire valiantly, and little by little, it gave way.\nThe roaring and the crackling died down. It had almost burned itself\nout. The smoke was as bad as ever as they raced back to the old man\u2019s\nside. He was awake now, but he didn\u2019t seem able to move. They tugged\nand pulled at him and got him to the door of the shack. Billy looked\naround for a bed, but there was none. There was a cot in the corner,\nand they pulled it over close to the door and helped him to lie down.\nDor found a towel and wiped his face. He smiled at her. He had a sort\nof nice face when he smiled. \u201cThank you, young lady,\u201d he said, and\nlooked at her kindly.\n\u201cDon\u2019t talk, Mr. Mott,\u201d said Janie. \u201cLie still and rest. My daddy is\ncoming, and he\u2019ll get a doctor.\u201d\n\u201cDoctor? Rest? Pshaw! I never had a doctor in my life. I don\u2019t need to\nrest. I\u2019m fine now. Fit as a fiddle. I just swallowed a might too much\nsmoke, I guess. I\u2019m fine now, fine.\u201d He tried to get to his feet, but\nit didn\u2019t work so well, for he faltered and then settled back on the\ncot again. \u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d he insisted.\nThe inside of the shack was poor and incredibly dirty. There was a\ncook stove in the middle of the floor that smoked. It must have been\nsmoking for years, because the ceiling and walls were black and covered\nwith soot. There were no curtains on the windows. The floor was black,\nand there was a heap of tools in one corner and a pile of wood in the\nother. There were a few chairs that looked like the antique chairs that\nMom had in the bedrooms at home, but they had no seats and the wood was\ndark and furry with dirt. Half a loaf of bread stood on a small table\ntogether with an empty meat wrapper, half a pound of lard, and a dirty\nfrying pan. A cup and a plate and a knife stood by, looking as if they\nhad been used again and again without washing. Janie groaned as she\nthought of how she hated to wash dishes. \u201cDear Lord,\u201d she prayed. \u201cIf\nYou get us out of this mess, I\u2019ll never complain about washing dishes\nagain. I never loved and appreciated a clean house as much as I do this\nminute.\u201d\nWhat a relief to hear Dad\u2019s hearty voice in the yard! Davey scampered\nalong beside him, feeling important. \u201cWell, well, Mr. Mott. You\nhad quite a fire, I see.\u201d He looked at his black-faced children in\namazement. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d he asked. They all started to answer at\nonce.\n\u201cJust a minute,\u201d he said, \u201clet Dor tell me.\u201d Dor took a breath and\nrecited what had happened from the first wisp of smoke to the face\nwashing. When she finished Dad looked very serious. \u201cMom is waiting for\nyou children in the car,\u201d he said. \u201cShe\u2019ll drive you home.\u201d They said\n\u201cGood-by,\u201d and hurried off.\nDaddy turned to Mr. Mott. \u201cI think you should have a doctor,\u201d he said.\n\u201cWill you let me call one for you?\u201d The old man looked feeble lying\nthere, and suddenly he seemed shrunken and pathetic.\n\u201cThe fact is,\u201d he said, \u201cI haven\u2019t any money. I have no money to call\na doctor, and I won\u2019t take charity. My father lived on this land, and\nnow I\u2019m going to lose it because I can\u2019t pay my taxes. It\u2019s a dang\nshame, that\u2019s what it is.\u201d He blew his nose fiercely.\n\u201cNow, Mr. Mott, don\u2019t worry about that now. Lie still and rest a bit.\u201d\n\u201cI feel fine now. Pshaw, I just lost my breath in the smoke. It does me\ngood to talk, Mr. Murray. I don\u2019t mind talking.\u201d He sat up on the cot.\n\u201cI tell you, sir, it isn\u2019t right. They can\u2019t do this to a man. We used\nto own a whole section of land, and now all I have left is this little\npiece around the house. I\u2019m going to lose this too, because I can\u2019t\npay my taxes. Why, my father owned the finest house in the hereabouts.\nHe owned a good deal of land too. I\u2019ve got some papers over there on\nthe desk I wish you\u2019d look at. They\u2019ll prove what I say is true.\u201d He\npointed to a heap of messy looking rubbish piled up on a flat topped\ndesk in the corner. \u201cRight there you\u2019ll find a letter that my father\ngot from the governor of the state in 1852.\u201d Mr. Murray hesitated. \u201cGo\non,\u201d urged Mr. Mott. \u201cFind it. I want you to read it.\u201d\nThe papers were yellow with age, calenders and advertisements for\npatent medicines were unclassified. There were old bread wrappers and\nsamples of unused wall paper. Finally Mr. Murray found the letter. He\ntook it over to the door and looked at it carefully. He didn\u2019t read\nit. He just looked at it, and his excitement grew, for marching across\nthe top of the envelope were three dark blue one-cent stamps. There\nwas a portrait of George Washington in the center of each one. The\ncancellation marks were not heavy, and though they were dusty and old,\nthey were in good condition.\n\u201cMr. Mott,\u201d he said. \u201cNever mind about the letter. I think we\u2019ve found\nthe solution to your problem right here on the envelope.\u201d He pointed to\nthe stamps. \u201cThese are valuable,\u201d he said. \u201cI happen to know that they\nhave a catalogue value of one hundred and fifty dollars apiece. You\nwon\u2019t get full value for them, of course, but you\u2019ll get enough money\nto pay your back taxes, and you\u2019ll save your land. You\u2019ll even have a\nlittle money left over.\u201d\nMr. Mott rose up and took the letter and looked at it. He blinked. \u201cAre\nyou sure, Mr. Murray?\u201d\n\u201cYes, I\u2019m sure,\u201d he replied. \u201cIf you look through your old papers\ncarefully, you may find some more of them. I tell you what we\u2019ll do.\nAs soon as you feel well enough I\u2019ll drive you into town. We\u2019ll go\nto the stamp dealer who buys these old stamps, and I\u2019m sure he\u2019ll be\ninterested. He\u2019ll most likely pay you a good price. What do you say?\u201d\nThe old man sat holding the letter in his hands. He turned it around\nand around. He peered at the stamps closely. \u201cWell, I\u2019ll be jiggered,\u201d\nhe said.\nDad laughed and patted him on the shoulder. \u201cThat was just the tonic\nyou needed,\u201d he said. \u201cYou look much better already.\u201d\nMr. Mott stood up. His clothes were dirty, but his shoulders squared\nback and he held his chin up. \u201cThe Motts aren\u2019t licked yet,\u201d he said.\n\u201cThanks to you, sir, the Motts still own land.\u201d\nAs Dad started out the door he met the goat coming in. He looked\nastonished, and stepped to one side. \u201cThat\u2019s Mirandy,\u201d said Mr. Mott.\n\u201cShe won\u2019t hurt ye none. You know,\u201d he continued, as the goat ate\ncrumbs from the floor, \u201cyou folks have been mighty kind to me, and I\u2019m\nnot going to forget it. No sir, I\u2019m not. I\u2019m going to give you a fine\npresent.\u201d\nDad looked a little flustered. \u201cWhy, no, Mr. Mott,\u201d he said. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t\nanything at all that you wouldn\u2019t have done for a neighbor.\u201d\n\u201cNo sirree, you did me a good turn, and one of these days you\u2019re going\nto get a present.\u201d\nDad shook hands for good-by, and chuckled as he started off down the\nroad for home. He was still chuckling when he talked to Mom about\nit. \u201cThe old gentleman perked right up. He even wanted to give me a\npresent, although what he could spare, I can\u2019t imagine.\u201d\n\u201cPerhaps he\u2019ll give you one of his old stamps,\u201d said Billy.\nDad looked pleased, but he tried hard not to show it. \u201cHere we go\nagain,\u201d he said, \u201cgetting romantic. I wouldn\u2019t mind having some of the\nstuff he\u2019s got. I\u2019d like to go through that scrap heap of his more\ncarefully.\u201d\n_Chapter Fifteen_\n_Good-by Summer_\n[Illustration]\nSummer was almost over. The winding country roads were banked with\ngolden rod and purple asters. The hidden silk of the milkweed floated\nlike fairy wings on the still air. Mom canned peaches and tomatoes, and\nAunt Claire pushed and coaxed crooked little pickles into jars.\nMartins gathered on the telephone wires at the side of the road. There\nwere mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts and many, many children.\nThey chirped and twittered without end. The young ones darted about\nconstantly as if to say:\n\u201cEnough of this talk, and these endless plans. Come, let us be off.\nSee what a fine flier I am. See how cleverly I use my wings.\u201d\nThe braggart would circle and dip, but he\u2019d soon be back pushing his\nbrothers about rudely to make a place for himself. Sometimes they all\nstarted off at once, and the sky was filled with the rushing of wings.\nJanie strained her eyes after them and sighed,\n\u201cIf I could only fly along. What sights they must see! What wonderful\nadventures they must have! Good-by, good-by, until next summer.\u201d\nThey disappeared in the distance, but early the next morning they were\nback again, like a bar of music against the sky. One day, of course,\nthey would really leave.\nThe stove was squat and shiny, like a little old lady in a black\ntaffeta dress. It crackled and glowed, and the curved sheet iron back\ngot slightly pink. The copper tea-kettle on top quivered and spit like\nan angry cat. Mist hung over the lake and the grass was wet with dew.\nUncle Jim, who had lived in China, always described the weather as a\none-coat day or a two-coat day. Late August mornings at Oak Lake were\none-coat. Breakfast time was one sweater, and by nine o\u2019clock it was\nhot and clear with shivers and sweaters forgotten.\nMr. Murray took Mr. Mott to the stamp dealer who was pleased as he\ncould be about the rare old stamps. He paid him one hundred and fifty\ndollars for the three that Daddy found the day of the fire, and offered\nto buy any more that might turn up. The old man was overjoyed. He paid\nhis delinquent taxes and bought a coaster wagon full of provisions at\nthe store. Everyone ran to the gate to watch him come down the road.\nMirandy was hitched to the wagon, and she tripped along with her head\nhigh and her whisker waving in the breeze. Her eyelashes dropped\ndemurely, and a stranger looking at her would never have guessed that\nshe was as temperamental as an opera singer and as wicked as sin.\nMr. Mott wore a new shirt, violently plaid.\n\u201cGood morning,\u201d he called, bowing and smiling. \u201cGood morning Mrs.\nMurray, good morning folks! Mighty fine weather we\u2019re having.\u201d\nThe Murrays laughed and waved and called out to him.\n\u201cHe has a gold mine in that little old chicken coop of his,\u201d said Mom.\n\u201cHe came down here last night with another stack of letters. Daddy\nfigured that the stamps on them should be worth about six hundred\ndollars, and he found a certificate of stock that might still be sold\nfor a tidy little sum.\u201d\n\u201cOh, Mom,\u201d said Janie. \u201cDo you suppose he\u2019ll move back into the big\nhouse and fix it all up again the way it used to be?\u201d\n\u201cNo, I don\u2019t think he ever would. He\u2019s an old man now, and he\u2019s content\nto leave things pretty much as they are. I hope he\u2019ll clean up that\nshack of his. He didn\u2019t say anything about that, although he did speak\nof having a vacation.\u201d Billy sat on one stone post and Janie sat on\nthe other. \u201cDoesn\u2019t he look grand Bill?\u201d asked Janie as they admired\nthe retreating procession. \u201cHe turned out to be quite nice after all.\nDo you remember how we used to run at the sight of him? I used to\nshiver at the very mention of his name, and all the time he was just a\nharmless old man.\u201d Billy smiled and shook his head.\n\u201cIt\u2019s funny,\u201d he said, \u201chow just being kind to a person will improve\nhis disposition. I wonder what he\u2019ll give Daddy for a present.\u201d\n\u201cBilly,\u201d Jane exclaimed. \u201cIt isn\u2019t polite to wonder what people are\ngoing to give you for a present, and besides, it will probably be a\nstamp. He must know that Daddy is just crazy about stamps, even if he\ndoesn\u2019t collect any more.\u201d\nBilly shaded his eyes as he looked across the road. \u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\nwill probably be a stamp. What\u2019s that moving under the little cottage?\u201d\nHe jumped off the post and ran. \u201cQueenie is out again. That\u2019s the\nsecond time this week she got out.\u201d\n\u201cBetter catch her in a hurry,\u201d called Jane. \u201cThe last time she got out\nshe ate Mr. Landry\u2019s petunias, and Mom said the next time we\u2019d have\nfried rabbit.\u201d\n\u201cMurder,\u201d growled Bill. \u201cShe gets in there under the foundation, and I\ncan\u2019t get in after her, then the minute I go away she\u2019ll come out and\nrun away.\u201d\n\u201cCome on, Queenie,\u201d called Jane. \u201cBetter to be in your cage than in the\nfrying pan.\u201d\n\u201cStop that blood-thirsty talk,\u201d said Billy making a face. \u201cYou know Mom\nwas only fooling.\u201d\nJane giggled. \u201cMaybe she was, but don\u2019t tell Queenie. She\u2019s been a\nnaughty girl, and she needs discipline.\u201d\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t funny,\u201d grumbled Billy. \u201cYou get on the other side of the\nhouse, and catch her when she comes out. I\u2019ll chase her out with this\nlong stick.\u201d Jane looked dubious, and he continued: \u201cAnd don\u2019t let\nher slip through your fingers!\u201d He waved his branch, and out streaked\nQueenie, right through Janie\u2019s outstretched hands and into Landry\u2019s\nflower bed. There she sat nibbling on asters, and every time they would\nget close enough to lay hands on her, she would dash off to another\ncorner of the yard.\n\u201cI know what I\u2019ll do,\u201d said Billy. \u201cYou stay here and keep an eye on\nher, and I\u2019ll catch her with my landing net.\u201d Back he came in a few\nminutes with his long-handled net, but Queenie was gone. \u201cBilly, I\u2019m\nso sorry, I just couldn\u2019t help it. I was looking right at her and she\njust disappeared.\u201d\nThey scouted around the neighborhood, but no sign of a white rabbit.\n\u201cMaybe a dog ate her,\u201d said Billy mournfully.\n\u201cMaybe she was run over by a car,\u201d brooded Jane. They walked slowly out\nto the end of the lot where the hutch stood, and then they both stood\nopen-mouthed in astonishment. There, on her bed of clover, sat Queenie\neating a carrot!\n\u201cWell, mow me down,\u201d said Billy when he could get his breath.\n\u201cShe\u2019s a witch,\u201d said Jane.\nLeaving the cottage at the end of the season always came as a surprise.\nIt seemed that everything would be as usual one day, and the next\nmorning the air would be full of preparations for going home. The boats\nhad to be taken in and turned upside down to dry out. The raft never\ncame in until the last afternoon of their stay, but screens had to come\noff, and awnings had to be taken down. Janie always felt a little pang\nof sadness at the thought of going back to town. Life in Springhill was\nexciting and interesting, but the long summer days at the lake were so\nmuch fun.\nGrandma and Aunt Claire went back to town early, but the Murrays stayed\nuntil the last day before school started. Dad had the trailer again,\nand this time it was piled up higher than ever.\nOn the last morning Janie waded through a maze of packing boxes and\nsuitcases on the porch. Davey was feeding Butch, and Mom was doing her\nbest to persuade James that he could not bring a large fish into town\nto be mounted.\n\u201cBut, Mom,\u201d said James, \u201cit\u2019s the biggest fish I ever caught.\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, my boy. You should have thought of that while he was still\nfresh, and not after he had been left down at the pier for two days.\u201d\n\u201cBut, Mom,\u201d James repeated. \u201cHe\u2019s the biggest fish I ever caught.\u201d\nMom didn\u2019t say anything. She just squinted her eyes and pinched her\nnose shut between her first finger and her thumb. James looked at her\nfor a moment, and then he said,\n\u201cAll right, all right,\u201d and he took the fish out and buried it.\nDad and Bill were stacking packing boxes in the trailer. Jane ate\nbreakfast in a hurry off the edge of the kitchen sink, and then she\nmade the rounds to see that all the windows were fastened securely.\nBilly had fixed a covered market basket for Blackie and Queen and he\nset out for the back yard to get them started on the journey. He came\nback with his eyes bulging.\n\u201cWhat do you suppose that Queenie did now?\u201d\nMom sat down on a packing box and looked desperate. \u201cIf she ran away\nagain,\u201d she said, \u201cshe can stay away. I\u2019m not going to stop everything\nnow and go looking for her.\u201d\n\u201cBut, Mom,\u201d said Billy.\n\u201cDon\u2019t \u2018But, Mom\u2019 me! I\u2019ll not start looking for her again this\nmorning.\u201d\n\u201cBut, Mom, she didn\u2019t run away.\u201d\n\u201cShe didn\u2019t run away? Then what are you talking about?\u201d\n\u201cShe had puppies. I mean rabbits. Babies. Lots of them.\u201d\nThe whole family let out one big shout and ran for the back yard. True\nenough, Queen and Blackie were the parents of a large and handsome\nfamily. Mom and Daddy laughed so hard they leaned against the garage.\n\u201cLet\u2019s get out of here,\u201d Mom said, \u201cwhile we still can. The longer we\nstay here the more complicated things get.\u201d\nThey went back to the cottage and hunted for something warm to wrap the\nbaby rabbits in. Everything had been packed away, but Davey volunteered\nan old blanket of Butchie\u2019s, and the infants were made ready for their\nfirst long trip.\nThe trailer was pretty well packed when Janie spied Mr. Mott and\nMirandy coming down the road. \u201cHey, hey,\u201d she cried. \u201cHere comes Mr.\nMott with Daddy\u2019s present. He said he was coming, and here he comes.\u201d\n\u201cJanie,\u201d said her father. \u201cDon\u2019t talk like that. You children have made\nall this talk about a present sound like something that it never was\nintended to be. What I did for Mr. Mott was no more than one neighbor\nwould do for another. I didn\u2019t expect a reward, and I don\u2019t expect one\nnow.\u201d\n\u201cMaybe you don\u2019t expect one, Daddy,\u201d said James, \u201cbut you\u2019re going to\nget one.\u201d\n\u201cGood morning, folks,\u201d said Mr. Mott. \u201cI see you\u2019re getting ready to\nleave, and I came to say good-by.\u201d\n\u201cDon\u2019t say good-by yet,\u201d said Mom. \u201cWe\u2019ll be out for week-ends all\nduring the nice fall weather.\u201d\n\u201cCity folks always say that,\u201d said the old man, \u201cbut when the time\ncomes they get busy in town, and they stay there. Labor Day is usually\nthe end of things out here.\u201d\n\u201cWhat do you do out here all winter,\u201d asked Mr. Murray.\nMr. Mott patted Mirandy on the back. \u201cTime was when I used to do a\nlot of hunting and fishing, but I\u2019m getting a little old for that. I\ncleared a nice little heap of money on my stamps, and I figured that\nthis year I\u2019d spend the winter in Florida. I\u2019ve heard the fishing is\nreal good down there.\u201d\n\u201cGood for you,\u201d said Dad with a sort of surprised look on his face.\n\u201cYes,\u201d said Mr. Mott blowing his nose. \u201cI\u2019ve been mighty lucky, and you\nfolks have been the cause of it all. I\u2019ve been figuring and figuring\nwhat I could do for you and I\u2019ve settled on Mirandy. She\u2019s the finest\nthing I own. She\u2019s smart, and she\u2019s gentle, and she\u2019d make a good pet\nfor your children.\u201d\nMom looked dazed, and Dad kept saying \u201cBut, Mr. Mott....\u201d\n\u201cI\u2019ll just tuck her right in here in the trailer beside the bicycle. A\nlittle grass and some water is all she needs. Now don\u2019t you thank me,\u201d\nhe said as Dad started to protest. \u201cYou did me a good turn, and I want\nyou to have Mirandy. I really do.\u201d\nA gentle rain began to fall. The baby rabbits were asleep in Janie\u2019s\nlap in the back seat of the car. King and Queenie were in a market\nbasket under Billy\u2019s feet. Davey was balancing a bowl of goldfish, and\nButch, terribly excited, was pointing and making impolite noises at\nthe creature with the chin whisker who stood in the trailer and looked\nbored. Mr. Mott wrung Mr. Murray\u2019s hand in farewell, and he walked down\nthe road toward the bus station. The car began to move down around the\ncurve and the children looked back at the snug little cottage.\n\u201cGood-by summer,\u201d they called. \u201cGood-by. We\u2019ll be back again next\nyear.\u201d\n[Illustration: _Mary Lamers_\n_The author of_ Cottage on the Curve]\n_Cottage on the Curve_\nJanie Murray and her brothers, Billy, James, and Davey were all\nexcited. School was over and they were getting ready to spend the\nsummer at their cottage at Oak Lake. Something exciting always happened\nfor there was swimming and a raft, fishing and hiking, and--a HAUNTED\nHOUSE!\nWouldn\u2019t you like to meet the Murrays? Fun-loving Dad brought the organ\ngrinder\u2019s monkey home to live with them. To Mom, each child was her\nfavorite. Billy, the oldest of the children, liked to tease sister\nJane (as older brothers like to); Jane loved her Mom and Dad and her\nbrothers; she went fishing with them and baited her own hook (she liked\nhair ribbons, too). James liked to mix things together in bottles\nand you never knew what might come out of them; Davey, the youngest,\ncollected anything and everything for no reason at all.\nThe Murrays were constantly getting pets in the strangest way. Butch,\nthe monkey, was part payment of Dad\u2019s fee for a case he worked on. When\nthe doctor visited James who had fallen off the roof, he presented the\nchildren with two rabbits--one white and the other coal black. Buick\nwas the next door neighbor\u2019s dog--he was at the Murrays so often,\nhowever, people didn\u2019t know to whom he belonged. BUT--wait until you\nsee what, the Murrays got from the cross old hermit who belonged to the\nhaunted house and lived in a chicken coop!\nMystery, excitement, suspense, and action always accompany the\nMurrays--why not let boys and girls from nine to twelve years accompany\nthem, too?\nTranscriber\u2019s Note\nPunctuation and hyphenation have been standardised, including changing\nnumerous semicolons when commas appeared to have been intended, and\nremoving apostrophes from the plural form of proper nouns unless\nownership was apparent.\nOther changes have been made as follows:\n  Page 15\n    about you\u2019re not being happy _changed to_\n    about your not being happy\n    \u201cMom,\u201d replied, \u201cI know you\u2019re _changed to_\n    \u201cMom,\u201d she replied, \u201cI know you\u2019re\n  Page 25\n    When I\u2019m a millioniare _changed to_\n    When I\u2019m a millionaire\n  Page 47\n    like a bullfighter at the at the dog _changed to_\n    like a bullfighter at the dog\n  Page 54\n    up and manuevered the boat _changed to_\n    up and maneuvered the boat\n  Page 99\n    The aimiable little car _changed to_\n    The amiable little car\n  Page 115\n     played an accordian _changed to_\n     played an accordion\n  Page 134\n    the Landry boys came pop-pop-poping _changed to_\n    the Landry boys came pop-pop-popping\n  Page 142\n    Billy roared with laugher _changed to_\n    Billy roared with laughter\n    sat on the roof.\n    and then they rolled _changed to_\n    sat on the roof, and then they rolled\n  Page 172\n    they tamed a chipmonk _changed to_\n    they tamed a chipmunk\n  Page 180\n    lifted out the most lucious _changed to_\n    lifted out the most luscious\n  Page 188\n    but persistance is more important _changed to_\n    but persistence is more important\n  Page 200\n    looking a the stars overhead _changed to_\n    looking at the stars overhead\n  Page 214\n    she was as tempermental as _changed to_\n    she was as temperamental as\nEnd of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Cottage on the Curve, by Mary Lamers\n*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COTTAGE ON THE CURVE ***\n***** This file should be named 54946-0.txt or 54946-0.zip *****\nThis and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\nProduced by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan\nand the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at\nUpdated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions\nwill be renamed.\nCreating the works from public domain print editions means that no\none owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation\n(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without\npermission and without paying copyright royalties.  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{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1938, "culture": " English\n", "content": "Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Julia Neufeld and the Online\nTranscriber's note:\nText enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\nSmall capital text has been replaced with all capitals.\n[Illustration: cover]\n  _Nine O'Clock Talks_\n  by the REV. FREDERIC B. KELLOGG\n  Chaplain to Episcopal Students in\n  Cambridge, Massachusetts\n  Christ Church\n  Cambridge, Massachusetts\nFOREWORD\n_These short sermons by the Chaplain to Episcopalian Students in\nCambridge are collected here for their interest to Christians of\nall ages and as a reminder of the important religious work being\ncarried on in colleges. It is a truism that the years of college\nare crucial for students; it is then that their interests become\nclear and the direction of their life's work takes shape. But for\nChristians, education involves more than the training of the mind\nand the acquisition of knowledge; it involves, like every other\nphase of life, enlistment of the will and dedication of the spirit.\nAwareness of this fact has given rise increasingly in recent years\nto questions concerning the proper place of religious teaching in\nthe secular modern college and university. Without entering on\nthat question here, one may be quite certain that a chief force\nin the religious life of students will always be associations\nfor devotion and discussion such as those conducted by Mr. Kellogg\nunder the auspices of the Bishop Rhinelander Memorial for Student\nWork. During his nearly ten years of service he has influenced by\nprecept and example literally thousands of students. These sermons\nthus carry a double meaning. In addition to their own high value as\nChristian interpretations, they are tokens of a necessary work to be\ndone._\n  JOHN H. FINLEY, JR.\n  Eliot House\n  Harvard University\n\"_In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth._\"\nSo the Bible opens, so the world began. The historian, Arnold\nToynbee, has shown us how many beginnings there have been since\nthat time, how kingdoms rise and fall, one civilization succeeding\nanother as new life and inspiration take the place of death and\ncomplacency. There never will be an end of beginnings or of ends so\nlong as the world endures.\nA study of this historical cycle shows that mankind has never lost\nits hope for a deus ex machina, a God who will save men at the last\nmoment from the effects of their own bad beginnings. It makes a good\nstory to tell how the Gods from Olympus intervened on the behalf of\ntheir favorites on the plains of Troy but it is disastrous when men\nmistake this day-dream for reality. Yet at the end of each age there\nis to be seen a frantic scrambling for divine favor, a scurrying\nto the churches when the Goths threatened the Roman Empire, for\nexample, or a bull market for indulgences as the Renaissance\nreplaced medieval society.\nMen are forever trying to substitute faith in a last resort God for\nfaith in the \"beginning God\".\nBut seldom if ever has the substitution been successful. Once\nan avalanche of events has been loosed by the criminality or\ncarelessness of men, God will not intervene until the tumult and the\nshouting have died down, and his still small voice can once more be\nheard.\nNo one can mistake the fact that we are at the beginning of a new\nera now, an era in which events will happen more quickly and more\ndrastically than in any period in history. And these events may be\neither for good or for evil depending upon whether we decide now to\nfollow the \"beginning God\" rather than to postpone our faith until\nfear impels a grasping for a God of last resort, a deus ex machina\nwhich does not exist.\nTo follow the true God, however, the God who is in the beginning,\nmeans a sharp change in policy; it means junking our old habits of\nprocrastination and reliance upon self while the going is good,\nfor then is the time that inexorable events pile up to avalanche\nproportions. It means starting right now to refer our decisions\nto him for advice with confidence in his universal judgment and\nnever-ceasing care.\nA great opportunity is open to us, for I do not doubt that the first\nreally successful age will take place when God is invited to enter\nthe human scene at the very outset and thereby to form the pattern\nfor the years that follow. It is a crucial opportunity, for the\nneighborliness and love that proceed from him are no longer optional\ncourses but are the very conditions of survival.\nWhy not therefore make up our minds now that we will do everything\nin our power this year, this month, today, to introduce the God of\nthe beginning to the problems of the now?\nCHRISTMAS AND NEW YEAR'S\nIf you ever examine the early Chinese vases in the Fogg Museum or\nelsewhere, you will note that many of them have little cracks in\nthe glaze which run every whichway. You might conclude that these\nwere caused by antique methods of firing the pottery, or are just\nthe result of old age. Actually these cracks, which are known as\ncrackle in the glaze, were made on purpose. For it seems that these\nvases were often given as New Year's presents, and since New Year's\nis celebrated by the Chinese in the spring, the crackle was made\nto represent the breaking-up of the ice on the rivers and lakes,\nthe change from the hard and fastness of winter to the movement of\nspring.\nWe miss something important in our symbolic thinking by not\ncelebrating Christmas and New Year's at a time when nature herself\ntakes a new lease on life. It is more difficult for us to realize\nthe possibility of the breaking up of the old and the forming of the\nnew when the ice is thickening on the ponds and the snow is driving\ndeeper on the hills. It is hard enough as it is to become renewed in\nthe spirit of our minds.\nWe try instead to capture newness by thinking of a child, a symbolic\nchild that appears on the covers of the Saturday Evening Post and\nthe Ladies' Home Journal. Dressed in the scantiest of clothing, his\nchubby face covered with a broad grin, the spirit of the New Year\nushers us into a new calendar. And in the hurry and excitement of\nthe time it may have slipped our minds that only a week before we\nrecalled a real child, a child that once was born in fact and ever\nsince has been reborn in the souls of men.\nI wonder if we ever associate these two children and ponder the\nmeaning of each, for in a way they have a joint significance. The\nchild of New Year's means new opportunities, new openings for a\nworld of men sick and tired of the old. Those who would live by\nthis child alone, however, soon run into depressing frustration\nfor they have forgotten that new things do not come easily to old\nmen--men that are old in spirit of whatever age. They find that\nnew opportunities can only be met and made use of by people who\nhave a spring of newness within them; they realize that here is\nwhere newness counts most, down at the depths of the soul. And\nperhaps they discover--God grant that they do for it is the greatest\ndiscovery that a man can make--perhaps they discover that this is\nthe meaning of the child of a week before.\nThose old words about dying to sin and rising to newness of life,\nof being born again like Nicodemus, or at least the reality within\nthose words, may of a sudden catch hold of a man and shake him to\nthe core--shake out the old egocentric habits, break up the shoddy\nways of thinking, that he may be regenerate and born anew of the\nChrist within him.\nWe are reminded annually on Christmas Day that a new creature is\npossible, a new creature with fresh reactions and an unburdened\nsoul. We are reminded of this every time we come to the Holy\nCommunion and hear Christ's words, \"Come unto me all ye that travail\nand are heavy laden and I will refresh you.\"\nBut response may be withheld and the opportunity passes us by. W.H.\nAuden states the only too often repeated case in his _Christmas\nOratorio_:\n    As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed\n    To do more than entertain it as an agreeable\n    Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,\n    Begging though to remain His disobedient servant\n    The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.\"\nThat is one possibility, merely to regard the child of Christmas as\na symbol, like the child of New Year's--two fabulous children who\nhave no meaning once the holiday season is past. Or we can see in\none Child the very reality of newness, a newness that we can have\nand use for this New Year's and every New Year's to come--the spirit\nof God, eternally new.\n\"_For we have seen his star in the East and are come to worship\nhim._\"\nBut stars that lead travellers in a fixed direction and then come\nand stand over houses cannot be identified astronomically--so might\ncomment a pedestrian critic of the story of the Three Wise Men.\nFurthermore, the Magi if they ever did in fact exist were nothing\nbut Babylonian priests that were versed in astrology. Astrology! we\nall know that scientific astronomy has long since relegated that\nsuperstitious practice to the archives of the fantastic.\nYet I wonder if one of the deepest troubles of our time is that\nmen do not see stars that lead travellers in a fixed direction. Is\nnot the Day of the Lord long overdue when, as he said through the\nprophet Joel, \"It shall come to pass that I will pour out my spirit\nupon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,\nyour old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions.\"\nVisions of peace and a world made new--what greater need today has\nthe strife-ridden world than this?\nIt may be just poetic fancy in the Epiphany season that points to\na striking resemblance between the Three Wise Men following a star\nto the birthplace of the Prince of Peace and the delegates to the\nassembly of the United Nations coming from distant lands to try\nand make their dream of peace come true. They have seen the star\nat last, they have followed it to the resting place--so far all is\nwell. But will they go through with the whole story?\nHave they come primarily to get or to give? Will the actions of\neach nation be governed purely by self-interest, to gain security,\nto insure colonial possessions, to learn new secrets of power for\nnational aggrandizement? or will they instead, open their treasures\nand present unto him who is none other than the spirit of world\nbrotherhood their gifts--one gold, another frankincense, another\nmyrrh? For they have much to offer, ancient culture, glorious\ntraditions, scientific knowledge, vast resources both material and\nspiritual, all things that can be used for the unlimited good of all\nif shared, but which if hoarded, and thus envied, can work their\nutter destruction.\nWill they come in a spirit of humility or will they come with pride\nin their own might and sovereignty? The Magi were wise enough to\nfall down and worship the Prince of Peace even though he was only\njust born. Are the nations equally wise to recognize the presence of\nembryonic peace and see in it greater import, greater worth, than in\nanything each one singly has to offer?\nHave they the courage of their convictions? It will be so today as\nit was before: \"When Herod the King had heard these things he was\ntroubled and all Jerusalem with him.\" The powers of isolationism,\nin all its forms of non-cooperation, suspicion, financial reaction,\nwill be sorely troubled by the Prince of Peace and will do all in\ntheir power to kill him while still a child. And they will use all\nthe deception that Herod employed: \"Go and search diligently for the\nyoung child and when you have found him bring me word again that I\nmay come and worship him also.\" Go and find out all you can about\nthe intents and operations of the other nations so that we can use\nthem to our advantage. Go and expose the futility of cooperation. Go\nmake mistakes so that we can repudiate our delegates and once more\nreturn to reliance upon self and national security.\nFinally, will they depart into their own country another way or\nwill they return to Herod? Nor will it be of any more use than it\nwas with the old League of Nations if when they return they do not\nlead the fight at home to mobilize the forces for peace in their own\ncountries rather than compromise with Herod. This of course they\ncannot do unless they have the determined support of every one of\nus. We must not only be ready to receive them with eagerness but we\nmust meanwhile be following the same star as best we can, seeing the\nsame visions, learning how to give and not just to get, practicing\nthe same humility, exerting the same courage of our convictions.\nWorld peace cannot be accomplished merely by delegates any more than\nthe Prince of Peace could reign with the help of three wise men\nalone.\n\"_Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into the wilderness to be\ntempted of the devil._\"\nLet no one think for a moment that the devil is a fool. He used the\nsame ingenuity with our Lord that he has shown from the day that\nAdam fell to the present time. And one of his favorite methods of\nattack reveals itself here--he waits until a man is in a spiritual\nwilderness before he presents the greatest temptation, for he knows\nthat it is in loneliness that most people succumb.\nThe temptation may be the one which our Lord faced--to try to\nachieve spiritual ends by worldly means. Or it may be less\nsubtle--to give in to degrading thoughts or actions. In whichever\none of the infinite forms the enticement of the devil may appear, we\nare most vulnerable when cut off from companionship.\nIt is possible to be a romantic about temptation, to take\nthe attitude of Kipling's poem \"If\", to glory in your own\nself-sufficiency when all about you are losing their heads. Or one\ncan be a Stoic and grimly bear the vicissitudes of life by oneself,\nscorning the assistance of others as a sign of weakness.\nBut the Christian solution is otherwise. It points out that the\nfight with temptation is generally a negative affair, a rear guard\naction. What we want to discover is the most efficient method of\novercoming it in order to be set free for more positive and fruitful\nwork. And the plain fact is that temptation can best be overcome\nwith the help of others. To resist this assistance in time of need\nis not a virtue but a form of spiritual pride. When we pray \"Lead\nus not into temptation\" we mean at least in part, don't let the\ndevil get us off by ourselves, for he has an easy time picking off\nstragglers. But he is completely frustrated by men and women who\nhold together in the bond of fellowship and understanding.\nThe very same thing is true of suffering. Indeed there is a\nclose connection between the two. There is acute suffering in\nresisting temptation. And there is temptation in the endurance of\nsuffering--temptation to wallow in self-pity and despair. It may be\nthat misery loves company for its own sake, but it is equally the\ncase that suffering can best be dealt with in the companionship of\nothers. Why is it that such extraordinary acts of fortitude in plain\ncan take place in wartime? Why?--because men are fighting side by\nside and are upheld by the esprit de corps that is generated by a\ncommon struggle.\nWhat has all this got to do with us, you may wonder. We don't have\nany temptations that seem too great to handle by ourselves, nor do\nwe have to endure intense suffering. Perhaps so, but the chances are\nthat we won't always be so fortunate and we can never tell when\nit may happen. If we don't learn how to handle the present smaller\ntrials and temptations we may be overcome by the larger ones when\nthey come.\nSo I suggest that you use this Lent to learn some lessons. And\nthe first lesson is to realize your common humanity--to perceive\nhow valuable people are to you and you to them. In the time of\ntemptation and suffering you will not hesitate to turn to others if\nyou have made a practice of being close to others when the going is\ngood.\nRemember too that by overcoming trouble in your own life you gain\nnew and great powers to help others through their dark periods. You\nthen have sympathy and understanding of a kind which alone comes\nfrom suffering and you have the fibre of victory that comes only\nfrom the transcending of temptation.\nFinally, realize the constant presence of God. He will be your\ncompanion even when all else fails:\n    \"If I climb up into heaven thou art there\n      If I go down to hell thou are there also.\n    If I take the wings of the morning and remain in the uttermost\n          parts of the sea\n    Even there also shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall\nTemptation and suffering cannot be avoided but they can be beaten by\nyou and through you in the company of your fellow men and with the\nupholding presence of God.\nPALM SUNDAY\nWhen Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the first Palm Sunday he must have\nbeen in great suspense. Would he be recognized in his true colors?\nJesus came as king, but not the kind of king the people expected.\nWould the real meaning of his entrance into the city be recognized\nor would he again be misunderstood as he had been so often before,\neven by his closest friends?\nThe crucial question was one of recognition. Would the real meaning\nbe seen, would the signs be read aright.\nThat is why Jesus spoke with such concern about signs and the way\nthey should be read. \"Now learn a parable of the fig tree,\" he said,\n\"when his branch is yet tender and putteth forth leaves you know\nthat summer is nigh.\" Signs like that in nature are unmistakable.\nBut when it comes to sizing up a man and his meaning they are far\nmore complex. Then real perception must be used, \"for there shall\narise false Christs and false prophets and shall shew great signs\nand wonders insomuch that if it were possible they shall deceive\nthe very elect.\" How many of us spoke enthusiastically of Mussolini\nbecause Italian trains began running on time and beggars disappeared\nfrom the steps of cathedrals? How many good people were duped by\nFranco merely because he proclaimed allegiance to the church and\nChristianity? How many well meaning people are fooled by the devil\nin all his guises?\nAnd the reverse side of the picture has its equally discouraging\naspects. Great men live and die, unrecognized and misunderstood.\nMen of good will are persecuted and put to death. The greatest and\nbest of all men rode into Jerusalem and in less than a week he\nwas hanging from a cross. The perversity of the human race seems\nequalled only by its foolishness.\nThe inhabitants of Jerusalem could at least plead ignorance. The\nsigns of the meaning of Jesus were not obvious. True, the prophet\nhad written before in the Book of Zechariah to be on the watch\nfor such an event. \"Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion, shout O\ndaughter of Jerusalem. Behold, thy king cometh unto thee; he is just\nand having salvation; lowly and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt\nthe foal of an ass.\"\nJesus acquiesced in this prophetic symbolism and some did recognize\nhim for what he was--the spiritual King, the Messiah of God. A few\nbut only a few saw the meaning of the signs.\nBut since that time how can man plead ignorance? The gospel has\nbeen preached in every nation of the world and has been written in\na thousand languages. Basilicas, cathedrals, and monasteries have\nglorified him in wood and stone. The greatest artists have painted\nhim, the greatest authors have written about him. And yet if Christ\ncame again to one of the modern Jerusalems would the effects be much\ndifferent even though we have had two thousand years to learn of\nhim and know his ways? We have proclaimed the magnificence of our\nreception but have we ever really received him? Could he not say\nthe same thing in truth as he beheld the city and wept over it: \"if\nthou hadst known, even thou at least in this thy day, the things\nwhich belong unto thy peace.\" He would stand about the same chance\nof recognition as King today as he did then, for we too are looking\nin the wrong direction. They looked for a mighty man at the head\nof an army or a political party. We look for a Christ in pomp and\ncircumstance in power and great glory. Perhaps then on this Palm\nSunday we should try looking in the place where he was found before,\nand will always be found. Quietly waiting outside the city of our\nhearts, waiting for our recognition and acceptance. \"Behold, thy\nking cometh unto thee; he is just and having salvation; lowly and\nriding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass.\"\nEASTER\nChrist the Lord is risen today. Alleluia! The purple veil is lifted\nfrom the Cross, the Altar, bare through Lent, is now adorned with\nflowers, for the agony of Good Friday has given way to the rejoicing\nof the Resurrection. Joyful people crowd the churches to proclaim\nthe yearly rediscovered fact that Christ has opened the way through\ndarkness into light and has turned man's sorrow into gladness.\nChrist the Lord is risen today. Alleluia.\nBut for the thoughtful, I wonder if there isn't another theme that\nruns in a minor key throughout the Easter music. I wonder if Easter\nisn't for many a day of joyous farewells. Christ has risen to sit at\nthe right hand of the throne of God and we glory in that fact; but\ndon't we feel like saying with Thomas, \"Lord, we know not whither\nthou goest and how can we know the way.\" There may be many mansions\nin the house of God but they seem so very remote. Even our Lord's\nassurance that he is the way, the truth and the life does not quite\nfill the place in our hearts left hollow by his departure.\nFor forty days and nights he has been among us sharing our humanity,\nits problems and its pains. He has been with us in anxiety, in\nsleeplessness, in sorrow. He has been so human, indeed, that we have\nforgotten his descent. We are not prepared to lose our old familiar\nfriend.\nIt may be that in normal times, by which we mean in thoughtless\ntimes, his absence is not greatly felt or is soon forgotten. But who\nis there among us now that does not feel the burden of human war and\npeace? Who is there that has not needed friendship to take the place\nof loss, that has not looked for counsel and strength beyond the\nlimits of his own life?\nAnd for these, the Lord has been a present help in time of trouble.\nHe has been a man among men, by our side, to lead us on our way.\nNow Easter comes, our Lord has risen. Christ has become King, a God\nof Gods. Yet here we remain, we haven't changed, our problems are\nthe same, our needs the same.\n\"Love's redeeming work is done, fought the fight the battle won,\"\nwe sing. But there is still the overtone of sadness in the Easter\nmusic which might even become a note of irony. Love's work is done?\nThe battle won? Not in our world it isn't, far from it. We'd better\npostpone Easter till better times are come. Lent has meaning now,\none long unswerving Lent, with discipline and hard work.\nBut wait a moment. We see the veil is lifted from the Cross this\nEaster day, and now the cross stands clear and shadowless upon the\nAltar. Does that signify the end of suffering, or is there here an\nEaster meaning for these times more potent and impelling than ever\nLent has brought? It is said that Constantine the Great, returning\nfrom his victory over Maxentius, saw in the sky these words, \"In hoc\nsigno vinces,\" and thereafter he placed the Cross upon his standard.\nThe cross is brighter still on Easter for it is an earnest that yet\nagain through its sign we shall conquer.\nThe cross reminds us too that though he is risen, he is in no way\nfurther from us than before. He still bears upon himself the marks\nof the cross--the marks of Lent made meaningful by Easter.\nThe cross has by no means disappeared, rather it has been\nvindicated, death has not vanished but it has been overcome,\nsuffering will continue but it can be transformed. Let us then\nrejoice and be exceeding glad this Easter of all Easters for the way\nof the cross has proved to be the way of Life and Victory.\n\"_But the comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will\nsend in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things\nto your remembrance._\"\nCanon Quick of Durham wrote a most thought-provoking paragraph\nin his book _Doctrines of the Creed_. \"One essential paradox of\nChristianity,\" he wrote, \"consists in the fact that, although when\nviewed from outside it is one of the religions of the world, when\nit is known from within it is not a religion at all, nor even the\ntrue religion only, but something inherently more than religion; it\nis a whole social life of Communion in God among men, a communion\nwhich embraces both sacred and secular activities and is altogether\ntransfigured by the pervading presence of God's love.\"\nAnd what gives Christianity this extraordinary combination of\nbreadth and depth is the event of Whitsunday--the coming of the\nHoly Spirit. As St. John says, \"the Holy Spirit will teach you all\nthings\"--that is the breadth--and will \"bring all things to your\nremembrance\" about the earthly life and teaching of Christ--that is\nthe depth.\nAll through Christian history, but particularly today, two opposing\ntendencies can be seen at work. One is the desire to liberalize\nChristianity and make it more inclusive. Some, noting the good in\nout of the way places--there is honesty among thieves and there\nis sincerity among atheists, would push Christianity to a point\nwhere it would include all good wherever found and in whatever\ncombination. The logical conclusion would be to turn it into a kind\nof pantheism--a catch-all for all truth, goodness, and beauty. A\ngood Buddhist is really a good Christian whether he knows it or not,\nthey would say, in spite of the fact that he would be considerably\nannoyed to be told so.\nIn this drive to be comprehensive, the specific doctrines of the\nchurch would have to be scrapped or soft-pedalled and the emphasis\nbe put upon right living, whatever that is.\nIf you feel at this point like smiling in superior fashion at these\nliberalizers, examine your own mind for a moment and see if at least\npart of you doesn't agree with this. For example, have you ever felt\nor said about so-and-so who is an agnostic and never darkens the\ndoor of a church, that he is a better Christian than you, since he\nis more generous, more courageous, more generally virtuous? And this\nyou say, not out of humility, but from a suspicion that he is in\nbetter touch with the source of goodness than you are.\nAnd I could go on to point out other reasons why we would like to\nextend the label of Christianity as far as possible.\nBut the opposite tendency is also strong within us. Make\nChristianity precise, define carefully its limits and make\nmembership within it rigorous and single-minded. I heard of a\nclergyman, who when asked how his congregation was doing, replied,\n\"Fine-thinning 'em out, thinning 'em out.\"\nWe are aware of the strength that lies in narrowness and secretly\ncovet the simplification and order of an authoritarian church.\nHowever forceful these opposing tendencies may be we know at least\nthat neither one can be allowed to run wild without disaster to\nChristianity. There must be an integrating force that holds these\ntogether and leads to the productiveness that flows out of the\ntension between them.\nThat force is the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit proceeds from\nthe Father, through the Son. He always refers back to Christ as\nthe incarnate center of Christian life, and thence to God who\nis the source of the love that binds men into one communion and\nfellowship. Confusion exists because there are many spirits in the\nworld--spirits of a nation, of humanity, of progress. But these are\nnever to be identified with the Holy Spirit, who always brings to\nremembrance Christ himself, who must become the corner stone of all\nlife everywhere. To be apart from him is to be apart from God. To\nforget this is the danger of liberalism.\nBut on the other hand, the Holy Spirit will teach you all things,\nand as Canon Quick says, \"is the moving spirit in the Communion in\nGod among men, a Communion which embraces all things both sacred\nand secular and cannot be confined to man-made limitations.\" In\nforgetting this lies the danger of sectarianism.\nThe work of the Holy Spirit begins with Christ and continues to the\nend of the earth. That is the spirit we pray for and can expect to\nreceive on Whitsunday. Don't be content with anything less.\nTHE BLIND CAN LEAD THE BLIND\nThe story is told of a blind man who wanted to free himself from the\nrestrictions of his handicap by going about without his usual guide.\nWith the use of a stick, he found he could leave his house and\nwalk down the street well enough, but when he came to the crossing\nwhere the cars drove by in unending stream he could not get himself\nto start across, although he knew that the drivers would almost\ncertainly stop when they saw him leave the curb. He didn't quite\nhave the confidence and was turning back discouraged with himself,\nwhen he felt a hand on his arm, and a voice said, \"May I go across\nwith you?\" Reassured, he and his companion stepped out into the\nstreet, the cars came to a halt, and they proceeded across safely.\nWhen they got to the far side he was about to thank his friend, but\nbefore he could do so the other said, \"I'm much obliged to you for\nyour assistance in crossing the street, for, you see, I'm blind.\"\nA passage from the Bible comes immediately to mind, does it not?\n\"And he spoke a parable unto them, Can the blind lead the blind,\nshall they not both fall into the ditch?\" The answer is no, not\nnecessarily.\nBlind men may be excellent guides; it all depends on where the\nblindness lies.\nOur Lord was warning us of men who are blind in the eyes of the mind\nand spirit. As Marianne Moore wrote in her poem \"In Distrust of\nMerits\":\n    \"Job disheartened by false comfort,\n     knew\n     that nothing can be so defeating\n          as a blind man who\n     can see. O alive who are dead, who\n     are proud not to see. O small dust\n     of the earth\n          that walks so arrogantly.\"\nThese are the people to guard against, the blind who can see.\nOn the other hand, many men are coming back from the war who have\nlost the sight of their eyes, but it would be fatal for the world\nto imagine them all blind. They have seen and known what most of\nus have escaped, the horrors of war, and it is their compelling\nexperience that we need to help fight against the seeds of another\nwar.\nBlind men may be excellent guides, (and in the last analysis aren't\nwe all blind?) but they also need faith--they must have faith in\nthe insights of each other, they must have confidence that together\nthey can reach their destination. The men in the story could not\naccomplish what they wanted by themselves but when they joined\nforces they got the necessary confidence to go ahead. But that's\nwhat faith entails. Joining forces with men who rely primarily on\nthe eye of the mind and spirit. And that's the faith we all need so\ndesperately in the days to come.\nHow far do you think you can get without the insights and\nunderstanding of others? Look at the past. How much wisdom have you\nacquired all by yourself apart from the experiences of humanity that\nyou have met in books or face to face? We are embarked on a highly\ncooperative adventure in this life. Let no man pride himself on\nhis own ability to reach his destination alone; nor let him feel a\ncoward for needing the assistance of others.\nMost of us know this well enough at least in large sections of our\nliving--our culture, our business, our enjoyments are clearly mutual\nenterprises. Neither conceit nor ignominy are apt to enter these,\nfor it is only too obvious how much we depend upon our fellow humans.\nBut oddly enough, when it comes to our religion, where mutual\nfaith becomes the clearest necessity, that is the point at\nwhich we frequently leave our fellow blind men and plunge off by\nourselves. Why people suppose that they can find God, their ultimate\ndestination, by themselves, is a unique mystery. Why, to put it\nmore concretely, a man can claim to have his own religion and not\nneed the corporate advice and encouragement of the church can only\nbe understood if he is content with a fragmentary faith, content to\nleave his house, walk down the sidewalk, but never cross the street\nto the other side. That kind of blind man would indeed fall into the\nditch and all who followed him blindly would end there too. It all\ndepends upon mutual faith, mutual confidence in each other.\nOne of the great pictures by Pieter Breughel the Elder shows a\nprocession of blind men entering a river. The casual observer would\nsuppose that they were all about to be drowned; that is if he\nobserved in a superficial way. But the subtlety and greatness of\nthe picture lies in the fact that that is not the only possible\nconclusion. They may be making their way across. It all depends\nupon what is in their minds. They may be blind, but they may not be\nfollowing blindly. They may have the same faith of the two men in\nthe story that will bring them safely across.\n\"And when Jesus departed thence, two blind men followed him, crying,\nand saying, Thou Son of David, have mercy on us. And when he was\ncome into the house, the blind men came to him: and Jesus saith unto\nthem, Believe ye that I am able to do this? They said unto him, Yea,\nLord. Then touched he their eyes, saying, According to your faith be\nit unto you. And their eyes were opened.\"\nIs it just a coincidence that there were two blind men in this story\nand not just one? Two men who had faith in God and in each other,\nand faith that together they could reach their final destination.\n\"_If Satan also be divided against himself how shall his kingdom\nstand?_\"\nThe answer, of course, is that it won't stand any more than any\nother house. But unfortunately the forces of evil seem to recognize\nthis fact more clearly than do the forces of good. Satan and his\nfollowers cling together so tenaciously because they know what\nthey want and they realize that they must be unified in order to\nget it. Just compare Germany and France at the beginning of the\nwar. The Nazis had one all-consuming aim behind their actions--to\nconquer the world--and because of this unity of purpose they came\nwithin a hair's breadth of succeeding. Indeed they would have done\nso had it not been for a unity of desperation forged at the last\nmoment between vastly stronger nations. On the other hand, France\ndidn't begin to know her own mind until it was too late. Conflicting\ninterests and internal antagonisms made her a pathetically easy\nprey for the invader.\nThe fact is that the natural tendency among humans is to differ\nrather than to agree. Centrifugal force seems to be stronger in\nsociety than centripetal, and this is why so many houses are brought\nto desolation.\nBut just because divisiveness is natural, it does not follow that\nnothing can be done to keep men together. It merely means that unity\nhas constantly to be made or it will not come about. The drift\nis not in that direction. Here is a place where man must use his\nfreedom of choice and will, to transcend his inclinations. Fatalism\nand unity do not mix.\nThis being the case, where are man's unifying efforts particularly\nneeded today?\nThe area where politics rises above itself is one of the most\ncrucial for future world welfare. There are many elements in\npolitics which are of necessity partisan and controversial. In\nfact, His Majesty's loyal opposition or the equivalent is essential\nto progressive government. But the fundamentals which all should\nhave in common must not therefore be neglected. No politician in\nthis country ever rose to such heights of community understanding\nas did Abraham Lincoln, and the great words he used, \"government of\nthe people, by the people, and for the people,\" states clearly that\nunderlying unity without which democracy becomes anarchy. But it is\nnot merely coincidental that this famous phrase appeared first in\nthe preface that John Wyclif wrote to his translation of the Bible.\nUnity comes from God in the sense that He wills men to achieve it.\nOn a national scale partisanship must not allow another post-war\nfiasco, and it is appalling to hear that certain people are still\nfirmly opposed to a world organization. On the local scene,\nreligious, racial and social antagonisms have brought about a\nshameful state in the educational systems of our cities. Can't the\nwelfare of our children be a matter of united action? It must become\nso.\nOur heritage from the reformation is another value which we are in\nthe process of losing because of disunity. At a public hearing in\nNew York City recently the question came up why certain individuals\nhad received no attention. A social worker remarked, \"Oh, they\nare only P.P.P.s\" When asked what this meant he replied, \"Poor,\npowerless protestants.\"\nProtestant unity is the first step toward Christian unity and\nworld-wide religious cooperation. And it takes only a moment of\nsober, realistic thought to see that all Christians have vastly more\nin common than they have in particular. Why not spend more time and\nthought rejoicing in and applying the unity that already exists\ninstead of magnifying our differences?\nWhat it all comes down to is an attitude of mind. Do we try and\ncultivate our ability to agree when we can, to see the scope of our\ncommon aims, or are we consistently developing our divergences? Take\nthe time to analyze yourself in this regard. If we take pride in our\ncontrariness we are playing straight into the hands of the devil,\nfor he is not making the mistake of a divided house himself--rather\nhe is waiting for us to fall into that desolation. But if we hold\nsteadfastly to the implications of the Christian doctrine of one God\nand all men as his equally valuable children, we are headed for a\nfinal victory in world brotherhood, the place where victory counts\nmost.\n\"_Put on the whole armour of God._\"\nVery few passages in the Bible are as well known or as highly\nesteemed as this exhortation to stand against the wiles of the\ndevil. And certainly it has an immediate bearing today when the\noutcome of the battle between good and evil is crucial for the very\nexistence of civilization.\nBut this passage has a potentially misleading character about it\nwhich may have a disastrous effect upon the waging of the battle.\nMuch of it sounds purely defensive. \"To withstand in the evil day\",\n\"to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked\"--the word \"armour\"\neven has the connotation of protection. All this can easily play\ninto the hands of those who have the notion that the main duty of\na Christian is to keep himself unspotted from the world. Like the\nthree famous monkeys of the East, who see no evil, hear no evil,\nand speak no evil, it is thought that evil itself will somehow cease\nto exist if it is merely avoided. Of course there is some truth in\nthis point of view in as much as the Christian must have adequate\ndefensive equipment, but it must be forever emphasized that the\nvital element in the armour of God is the last one that St. Paul\nmentions, namely, the sword of the Spirit which is the word of God.\nFor we can be sure that all the breastplates, helmets, and shields\never made will be of little effect by themselves in defeating the\nprincipalities, the powers and the rulers of the darkness of this\nworld. That is like building a tank of the most shell-proof armour\nbut not putting in a powerful engine and a hard hitting gun. It just\nwon't win battles.\nIndeed, the most alarming sign of these times is the tendency to go\nonto the defensive, to try to side-step problems which appear to be\ntoo great to solve. It is a sign that the end of our era may be\nat hand. When the French Army came to the Marne in its retreat on\nParis in the first world war, defeat seemed imminent. At that moment\nGeneral Foch made his memorable decision. \"My center is giving way,\nmy right is pushed back--excellent! I'll attack.\"\nAs we know, that attack saved France. And as we also know, the lack\nof attack in this last war brought France's downfall. Without the\nsword of the Spirit, which is the spirit of the offensive, the most\nthat can be hoped for is that defeat may be delayed. But it will\nsurely come.\nAnd defeat will surely come to this nation unless we take the\noffensive in solving the titanic problem of power that we have\nsuddenly found in our hands. It cannot be hid under a bushel,\nit cannot be evaded, it cannot be kept to ourselves. It must be\nshared, for that is what the offensive means in this case--the\nexploration and achievement of new methods of cooperation which\nhave never yet been tried. Small-minded and fearful men think only\nof retreat--retreat into self-protection. But the alternative to\none world now is one Hell, or even more accurately one complete\nannihilation.\nIt may seem like an anti-climax to say that your own personal defeat\nwill come in the same way if you put your faith in defensive armour\nand fail to acquire and use the sword of the spirit. It may have\nbeen possible in years gone by to live blandly in the Puritan house\non the hill where all questionable literature was carefully banned,\nwhere temptation was kept at a minimum; where the turmoil, poverty\nand disease of the factory-filled valley could not be seen. But\nthat is no longer possible because the ways of the valley and the\nhill have met. It never was Christian, it was merely rationalized\negotism, to escape the problems of evil and call it purity. The\nChristian paradox must never be forgotten that dirty water washes\nclean when used in the service of God.\nThe time has come both personally and nationally to put on the whole\narmour of God in order to take the offensive against the powers of\ndarkness of this world.\n\"_How oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Till\nseven times?_\"\nWhen Peter asked this leading question he may have been trying\nto seem magnanimous. For Jewish law required only a threefold\nforgiveness, after which, apparently, you were free to take revenge.\nOur Lord rejected this whole legalistic approach by his reply and\npenetrated, as he always did, to the inner spirit of the matter.\nUntil seventy times seven was a traditional way of saying \"without\nlimit.\" He was trying to make Peter realize that to attach numbers\nto an action of this kind prevents your heart from being in it. Even\nif there were no chance of your brother sinning against you more\nthan seven times, you were not really forgiving him the first time\nas long as you had a limit set to the extent of your forgiveness.\nThe forgiving love of God, which is the pattern for the same spirit\nin man, has no boundaries, no qualifications.\nBut hasn't it? you may well ask. Doesn't the Lord's prayer set a\ncondition to his forgiveness of trespasses that we forgive those who\ntrespass against us? Doesn't the parable of the unmerciful servant\nwhich follows Peter's question end with the stern \"So likewise shall\nmy heavenly Father do also unto you if ye from your hearts forgive\nnot everyone his brother their trespasses.\"\nNo, to regard this as a condition to God's forgiveness is to\nmisunderstand radically the way God works, to mistake his very\nnature. To regard him as a bargainer, an exchanger of favors, is to\ndescend to the really false kind of anthropomorphism which is to\nimpute to him our weaknesses rather than to find in us his strength.\nGod's forgiveness flows from him continuously. When we do not\nexperience it, it is because we fail to allow it to operate. To put\nthe situation in its real terms, unless we learn to apply the spirit\nof forgiveness toward others we can never expect to discover the\nmeaning of God's forgiveness in our own lives--we can never forgive\nourselves; for that is one step more difficult than forgiving\nothers. This may sound like nonsense at first. Difficult to forgive\nourselves? Why that's easy, we reply. We are always coating over our\nmistakes, rationalizing our errors. But don't you see? In the very\nuse of the words coating over and rationalizing, we admit that there\nis a core of guilt there somewhere that has not been forgiven but\njust covered up temporarily--and if the truth were known, allowed to\nfester and grow till its effect becomes deadly indeed. If you don't\nbelieve this, explore the inner recesses of your mind and look for\na minute at the gallery of thoughts and actions you are trying to\nforget because they hurt. They hurt you still because they have\nnever been touched by God's forgiveness. You have not learned the\nspirit of forgiveness toward others sufficiently to apply it to\nyourself.\nBut suppose you have tried to be forgiving and found it difficult\nor well-nigh impossible. It actually is not an easy thing to learn.\nAnd it cannot be accomplished merely by saying to oneself in a stern\nvoice, \"Forgive others and forgive yourself.\" Much could be said\non how to learn, but one point stands out above the rest as wise\ncounsel. Look at others and yourself with a sense of perspective.\nOur brother sins against us, the magnifying glass is brought out and\nfocussed upon that sin, and our brother appears entirely sinful. We\nourselves commit a sin, the microscope is turned upon that spot in\nus, and all our good seems evil in its darkness. Learn to take away\nthe magnification as soon as the trouble is sufficiently examined.\nSee again the good which greatly outweighs the evil, for that good\nis the light in which forgiveness thrives.\n\"How oft shall I or my brother sin against me, and I forgive him?\" I\nhope you know by now.\n\"_For our citizenship is in Heaven._\"\nOne of the greatest works on the philosophy of history is St.\nAugustine's _City of God_. Though written in the dark days after the\nsack of Rome by the Goths, it has perhaps an even more immediate\nbearing upon these brighter times because it is now that we are in\nthe greatest danger of taking a nationally self-sufficient view of\nhistory.\nSt. Augustine saw that a Christian is a citizen of two worlds--the\nEarthly City and the City of God. These two cities have been formed\nby two loves: the earthly, by love of self even to the contempt of\nGod; the Heavenly, by the love of God even to the contempt of self.\nThe earthly city is the state, and although it is a relative good,\nit must exist to maintain civil order in a sinful world. The city of\nGod is the ultimate good where man's highest loyalty must reside,\nfor as St. Paul pointed out, our true citizenship is in Heaven.\nOur Lord himself recognized this double responsibility of man when\nhe told the Pharisees \"to render unto Caesar the things which are\nCaesar's and unto God the things which are God's.\" This shouldn't\nbe too hard to comprehend, and yet history reveals the repeated\nerror and tragedy of man's desire to be a citizen of one world\nor the other, but not both. Perhaps the difficulty lies in the\nfact that citizenship itself is a two-fold affair. It involves\none's allegiance to a state and it also entitles the citizen to\nthe protection of that state. It may be, therefore, that a double\nallegiance is too much for most men to bear, or it may be that the\nprotection of the earthly state seems so much more tangible. In\nany event, the \"either-or-ness\" has been most unfortunate in its\nconsequences.\nTo be a citizen of Heaven alone is more difficult for the average\nAmerican to understand. Few men these days are tempted to go\noff into the desert and live an other-worldly life in prayer and\ncontemplation with the sole desire of saving their own souls. And\nyet a more subtle form of this escapism is the chief object of\nthe attack made by politically liberal and radical groups upon\nChristianity. Socialists and Communists have with good reason\ncharged that much of every man's Christianity is a Sunday escapism\nwith little or no effect upon his daily living, unrelated to his\ncivic responsibilities and to existing evils.\nBad as this may be, the opposite form of single statism would seem\nto be more devastating in our present situation. When Stephen\nDecatur made his famous toast to \"Our Country, in her intercourse\nwith foreign nations may she always be in the right, but our\ncountry, right or wrong,\" he revealed the stupid tragedy of all the\nmany forms of the American First principle. But he incidentally\nadmitted the existence and necessity of a superior standard of\njudgment by which the nation is seen to be either right or wrong.\nUnless our citizenship is in Heaven we cannot be effective and\nreliable citizens of this country or any country on earth. All\nwe are fitted for without it is to be slaves to a Fascist state,\nsaluting and goose-stepping moronically at the command of a\nself-appointed leader. We must have a basis for judging even our own\ncountry and our most honored institutions.\nThis nation is in the midst of the most important decisions any\npeople on earth have ever faced. If we make them as members of the\nEarthly City alone, which as St. Augustine said is formed by love of\nself even to the contempt of God, we or our descendants will witness\nthe final form of uncritical patriotism: the end of our state in\nthe end of all civilization. But if those in authority, pressed on\nby us, will recognize their ultimate allegiance to the City of God\nwhich transcends all national sovereignty and boundaries there is\ngood hope that the decision will be made for the good of all mankind\nand not simply for our destruction.\nIf they or we are fearful in this fatal moment, we might remember\nthe other side of citizenship--as members of the City of God we are\nalso entitled to its protection and its power.\nRemember the experience of Elisha and his servant. And Elisha prayed\nand said, \"Lord, I pray thee open his eyes that he may see. And then\nthe Lord opened the eyes of the young man and he saw, And behold\nthe mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about\nElisha.\"\n\"_Forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto\nthose things which are before._\"\nOne might well assume that these words of St. Paul are an accepted\npart of all theories of progress; looking forward instead of\nbackward. But Lewis Mumford in his book _The Condition of Man_\npoints out that this has unfortunately not always been the case,\nto the confusion and sidetracking of mankind's efforts. Progress,\nhe says, may be considered in either of two ways--getting closer\nto a goal, or getting farther away from a starting point. And it\nwas in the latter sense that the exponents of progress in the\nera of Romanticism; Hume, Voltaire, and the others, preached\nit--the casting loose from a past crippled by evils: brutality,\nsuperstition, ignorance, misery.\nBut have these curses disappeared from the earth? Have they not in\nmany respects grown worse? I am afraid so, and I think it is due in\nlarge part to this negative theory of progress which has possessed\nman since the Renaissance. The intended cures of evils have been too\noften sought purely as an escape from the evil itself and not with a\nview to ultimate good.\nSerfdom and slavery were evil, so men broke away and became free;\nbut free for what? That was of little consequence as long as they\nwere free. The Germans felt the pressure of other nations around\nthem so they needs must make more Lebensraum--room in which to be\nfree. And what nation has ever become so enslaved in the process?\nWe didn't want war, and so with the mounting fear of war before our\neyes, we temporized until the greatest war in history came upon us.\nAn individual realizes how great is his own selfishness and so to\novercome it, he concentrates upon self-centered cure and becomes\neven more entangled.\nNo, this kind of progress is no progress at all, but rather a circle\nback into greater evil. Man was not made to run with his eyes turned\nbackward. He will inevitably fall into the same or deeper pit.\nThe only true and effective kind of progress is progress toward a\ngoal with that goal clearly and constantly before our eyes.\nWe want peace. What then is peace? It certainly is not the mere\navoidance of war. It is rather the achievement of those conditions\nwhich allow for men's dependance upon each other with greater mutual\nrespect and affection.\nWe want internal national harmony. Does that come from the\nsuppression of the demands of labor or the abolition of the guidance\nof management? Certainly not. It comes from a joint appreciation\nof the values of living without which there is no possible common\nground.\nDo you as an individual want to grow in wisdom and stature? Yes,\ncertainly. But that will not come from mere reaction to your\npast; although that is a delusion under which many men labor. This\nfrequently reveals itself in their attitude toward religion. Almost\neveryone goes through a period of reaction against religion and\nall that it stands for. It usually happens about Sophomore year in\ncollege. Actually it is a reaction against the authority of our\nparents, our school teachers and our unthinking past in general.\nIt is necessary for each one to think out his purposes and goals,\nhis religion for himself, or else it will never have his whole\nhearted support. But because of this confusion between authority\nand religion many people reject both together and forever after are\nmotivated by reactions and not by any real positive ideal. They are\nthe followers of the illusory theory of progress and are forever in\nfrustration.\nNo, if you would make real progress you must start as soon as\npossible disentangling your ultimate ends from your reaction to\nyour beginnings; keeping what is true for you and discarding what\nis false. Once this process is begun, it must be continued and\ndeveloped until you have a religion that really pulls you on, until\nyou are reaching forth unto those things which are before, until you\nhave found the God who is your God and in whom you live and move and\nhave your being.\nTwelve hundred copies printed by Harvard University Printing Office.\nDesigned by Philip Hofer, Department of Printing and Graphic Arts of\nthe Harvard Library, with Charles Grassinger of the Harvard Printing\nOffice.\nAdditional copies of \"Nine O'Clock Talks\" may be obtained for $.75\neach from the Bishop Rhinelander Memorial, Christ Church, Cambridge,\nMass.\nProceeds from the sale of these books will go to the Chaplain's fund\nfor work with students in Cambridge.\nEnd of Project Gutenberg's Nine O'Clock Talks, by Frederic B. Kellogg", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Nine O'Clock Talks\n"},
{"source_document": "", "creation_year": 1938, "culture": " English\n", "content": "OUR ATOMIC WORLD\n                       THE STORY OF ATOMIC ENERGY\n                     U.S. ATOMIC ENERGY COMMISSION\n                   Division of Technical Information\n                    _Understanding the Atom Series_\n                   The Understanding the Atom Series\nNuclear energy is playing a vital role in the life of every man, woman,\nand child in the United States today. In the years ahead it will affect\nincreasingly all the peoples of the earth. It is essential that all\nAmericans gain an understanding of this vital force if they are to\ndischarge thoughtfully their responsibilities as citizens and if they\nare to realize fully the myriad benefits that nuclear energy offers\nthem.\nThe United States Atomic Energy Commission provides this booklet to help\nyou achieve such understanding.\n                                       Division of Technical Information\n  UNITED STATES ATOMIC ENERGY COMMISSION\n  Dr. Glenn T. Seaborg, Chairman\n  James T. Ramey\n  Wilfrid E. Johnson\n  Dr. Theos J. Thompson\n  Dr. Clarence E. Larson\n  THE GREEKS WERE CURIOUS ABOUT MATTER                                 1\n  CATHODE RAYS SHOW ATOMS CONTAIN SMALLER PARTS                        3\n  RUTHERFORD FINDS THE ATOMIC NUCLEUS                                  6\n  SOME PARTICLES HAVE NO ELECTRIC CHARGE                              13\n  NUCLEAR ENERGY IS NEEDED FOR THE FUTURE                             25\n                 United States Atomic Energy Commission\n                   Division of Technical Information\n           Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 63-64918\n    [Illustration: The cover is a time-exposed photograph of an animated\n    model of a uranium-235 atom. The center represents the nucleus,\n    greatly exaggerated in size. The fine lines represent the electrons\n    whirling about the nucleus.\n    Courtesy Union Carbide Corporation]\nC. JACKSON CRAVEN is a teacher\u2019s teacher as well as a student\u2019s teacher,\nand has had an active career aiding understanding of atomic energy as a\nmember of the University of Tennessee faculty and on the staff of the\nOak Ridge Institute of Nuclear Studies. He has conducted short courses\nto instruct groups of high school science teachers in nuclear energy,\nand has served in a key capacity in training Institute\ndemonstration-lecturers who visit high schools throughout the nation.\nDr. Craven worked during World War II for the Manhattan Project, which\nbuilt the first atomic bomb. He earned bachelor\u2019s and graduate degrees\nat the University of North Carolina, and later taught physics and\nmathematics at Delta State Teachers College and at Furman and Emory\nUniversities.\nHis research interests include infrared spectroscopy, gaseous diffusion\nthrough porous media, and the physical properties of fibers.\n  _The story of atomic energy evolves from the curiosity of people\n  concerning the nature and structure of matter, the stuff of which all\n  material things are made._\n                  The Greeks Were Curious About Matter\nCertain philosophers of ancient Greece\u2014Democritus for one\u2014were\nfascinated by the question: _what is matter?_ You can imagine one of the\nphilosophers saying to his pupils:\n\u201cGentlemen, let us consider a piece of cheese. With a knife we can cut\nit in two, thus obtaining smaller pieces. We can then cut one of these\nsmaller pieces in two, obtaining still smaller pieces. We can _think_\nabout repeating this process over and over to get smaller and smaller\npieces of cheese. Now can this process be continued without limit, or\nwill a time come when we arrive at the smallest possible piece of\ncheese? In other words, is there a piece so small that we must have at\nleast that much or none, with no choice in between?\u201d\nIt is probable that most people who thought about this question at all\nduring the next two thousand years answered the last question in the\nnegative. The prevailing notion was that matter was continuous, with no\ntheoretical limit as to how small a piece of cheese, or anything else,\nmight be.\nThis concept was humorously expressed by the British mathematician\nAugustus De Morgan (1806-1871) in these lines:\n  _Great fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite \u2019em,\n  And little fleas have lesser fleas, and so, ad infinitum._\n                     The Atomic Theory Is Confirmed\nDe Morgan evidently did not keep up with the latest developments in\nscience, however, because two years before his birth, John Dalton, an\nEnglish schoolteacher, had changed the atomic theory of matter from a\nphilosophical speculation into a firmly established principle. The\nevidence that convinced Dalton and many other contemporary scientists of\nthe reality of atoms came from quantitative chemical analysis.\nDalton knew that many chemical substances could be separated into two or\nmore simpler substances. Chemicals that could be separated further were\ncalled compounds; those that could not were called elements. Careful\nexperiments by Dalton and others showed that whenever two or more\nelements combined chemically to make a compound the relative amounts of\nthe elements had to be carefully adjusted to fit a definite proportion\nin order to have no elements left over after the reaction was finished.\nFor example, if hydrogen and oxygen were combined to form water, the\nweight of oxygen had to be eight times the weight of hydrogen;\notherwise, either some hydrogen or some oxygen would be left over.\nThis fundamental truth is now called the Law of Definite Proportions.\nAnother important principle, called the Law of Multiple Proportions, is\nillustrated by hydrogen peroxide, which is made up of the same two\nelements that are found in water. The weight of oxygen in hydrogen\nperoxide, however, is 16 times the weight of hydrogen or exactly twice\nthe relative weight found in water.\nThese principles of chemical combination convinced Dalton that each\nchemical element consists of small, indivisible units, all just alike,\ncalled atoms, and that each chemical compound also has basic units,\ncalled molecules, which cannot be divided without reducing the compound\ninto its elements\u2014that is, destroying it as a compound. He visualized a\nmolecule of a compound as formed by the uniting of individual atoms of\ntwo or more elements. It was obvious to him that in any molecule of a\ncompound, the weight of each atom of a component element bore a\nproportionate relationship to the weight of the entire molecule which\nwas equal to the proportion, by weight, of all that element in the\ncompound. And although Dalton had no idea how heavy any individual atom\nreally was, he could tell how many _times_ heavier or lighter it was\nthan an atom of another element.\nIncidentally, Dalton mistakenly thought that one atom of oxygen was\neight times as heavy as one atom of hydrogen instead of 16 times as\nheavy. He assumed a water molecule to be HO instead of H\u2082O.\n             Cathode Rays Show Atoms Contain Smaller Parts\nCuriosity about the fundamental nature of matter was matched by equally\navid curiosity about the fundamental nature of electricity. Before 1850\nmuch had been learned about the behavior of electric charge and electric\ncurrents flowing through solids and liquids. Real progress in\nunderstanding electric charge, however, had to wait for the development\nof highly efficient vacuum pumps.\nAbout 1854 Heinrich Geissler, a German glassblower, developed an\nimproved suction pump, and also succeeded in sealing into a glass tube\ntwo wires attached to metal electrodes inside the tube. Experimenters\nwere then able to study the flow of electricity through a near-vacuum. A\nGeissler tube is diagramed in Figure 1.\nBy the 1890s it had become clear that the flow of electricity through a\nhighly evacuated tube consisted of a negative electric charge moving at\na very high speed along straight lines between sealed-in electrodes.\nSince it originated at the negative electrode, or cathode, the invisible\nstream of charge was named \u201ccathode rays.\u201d\n    [Illustration: Figure 1 _Geissler Tube._]\n  CURRENT SOURCE\n  CATHODE (-)\n    STREAM OF ELECTRONS\n    VACUUM PUMP\n  ANODE (+)\nAlthough many investigators contributed to knowledge about cathode rays,\nthe experiments of Joseph J. Thomson, a British physicist, are generally\nconsidered to have been the most enlightening. Thomson arranged a\ncathode-ray tube so that the rays could be deflected by magnets and by\nelectrically charged metal plates. By applying certain well-known\nprinciples of physics, he was able to confirm an impression already held\nby physical chemists, namely, that electric charge, like matter, was\n\u201catomized\u201d\u2014the stream of charge consisted of a swarm of very small\nparticles, all alike. He succeeded also in determining that the speed of\nthe particles was about one-tenth the speed of light.\nProbably Thomson\u2019s most significant result was determining the ratio of\nthe charge of each little particle to its weight. He was able to do this\nby measuring the magnetic force required to divert a stream of charged\nparticles. (You can do this experiment yourself with relatively simple\nequipment.) This charge-to-weight ratio proved to be nearly 2000 times\ngreater than the already known charge-to-weight ratio for a positively\ncharged hydrogen atom, or ion, which until then was thought to be the\nlightest constituent of matter. It remained to be determined whether\ncharge or weight caused the difference. Further experimentation showed\nthat the charges were approximately the same amount in the two cases. It\nwas therefore proven that the weight of the hydrogen atom, lightest of\nall the atoms, was nearly 2000 times as great as the weight of one of\nthe little negative particles.\nThe name \u201celectron\u201d was given to the small negative particles identified\nby Thomson. Since the electrons had come from the cathode, it was\napparent that the atoms in the cathode must contain electrons. Thomson\nreasoned that electric current in a wire is a stream of electrons\npassing successively from atom to atom and that the difference between\nan electrically charged atom and a neutral atom is that the charged one\nhas gained or lost one or more electrons.\n                      Radioactive Atoms Discovered\n    [Illustration: _Henri Becquerel_\n    Courtesy Journal of Chemical Education, Discovery of the Elements,\n    Mary Elvira Weeks.]\nIn 1896 the French physicist Henri Becquerel was investigating the\nrelation between fluorescence and X rays, a puzzling kind of penetrating\nradiation discovered a few months earlier by the German, Wilhelm\nRoentgen. Various chemical compounds fluoresce, or glow, when exposed to\nultraviolet rays and other types of radiation. While experimenting with\na large number of chemicals, Becquerel discovered, quite by accident,\nthat a compound containing the element uranium can, without being\nexposed to any kind of radiation, darken a photographic plate completely\nwrapped in heavy black paper.\nAlthough no one realized it at the time, Becquerel had discovered that\natoms of some elements will at random times transform themselves into\natoms of a different element by emitting certain extremely high-speed\ncharged particles. Atoms that can do this are said to be radioactive,\nand it was the radiation from transforming uranium atoms that darkened\nBecquerel\u2019s photographic plate.\n                  Rutherford Finds the Atomic Nucleus\n    [Illustration: _Ernest Rutherford, 1871-1937_\n    Courtesy Nobelstiftelsen]\nWe are greatly indebted to the imagination and experimental skill of the\nBritish physicist Ernest Rutherford for the interpretation of\nradioactivity in terms of the structure of atoms.\nRutherford, born and educated in New Zealand, moved to England to work\nunder Thomson at Cambridge University in 1895. Shortly afterward,\nWilhelm Roentgen in Germany discovered X rays, Becquerel in France\ndiscovered radioactivity, and Thomson proved the existence of the\nelectron.\nDuring the next few years, curiosity about the fundamental nature of\nradioactivity led a number of people to do a great deal of work. The\nelement thorium was found to be radioactive, and Marie and Pierre Curie\ndiscovered two new elements, polonium and radium, that were also\nradioactive. The radiation from radioactive materials was found to be of\nthree kinds called alpha rays, beta rays, and gamma rays. Alpha rays\nwere first detected by Rutherford, who later identified them as\npositively charged helium atoms. Becquerel demonstrated that beta rays,\nlike cathode rays, consist of negatively charged electrons. The highly\npenetrating gamma rays were proved by Rutherford and E. N. da C. Andrade\nto be electromagnetic radiation similar to X rays.\nRutherford, in collaboration with the English chemist Frederick Soddy,\nbrought order out of a chaos of puzzling discoveries by establishing the\ngeneral behavior of radioactive atoms. He determined that certain\nnaturally occurring atoms of high atomic weight can spontaneously emit\nan alpha or a beta particle and thereby convert themselves into new\natoms. These new atoms, being also radioactive, sooner or later convert\nthemselves into still different atoms, and so on. Each time an alpha\nparticle is emitted in this sequence, the new atom is lighter by the\nweight of the alpha particle, or helium atom. The disintegration process\nproceeds from stage to stage until at last a _stable_ atom is produced.\nThe end product in this \u201cdecay\u201d process in naturally occurring\nradioactive elements is lead.\nOne experiment by Rutherford and his co-workers had a most profound\neffect on the understanding of atomic structure. What they did was to\ndirect a stream of alpha particles at a thin piece of gold foil. The\nresults were astonishing. Almost all the particles passed straight\nthrough the foil without changing direction. Of the few particles that\ndid ricochet in new directions, however, some were deflected at very\nsharp angles. (See Figure 2.)\n    [Illustration: Figure 2 _Rutherford\u2019s most famous experiment, which\n    led him to the concept of the nucleus._]\nAs a result of this experiment, Rutherford proposed a concept of the\natom entirely different from the one which prevailed at this time. The\nprevailing notion was one advanced by Thomson which conceived of an atom\nas a blob of positive electric charge in which were imbedded, in much\nthe same way as plums are in a pudding, enough electrons to neutralize\nthe positive charge. Rutherford\u2019s concept, which quickly set aside\nThomson\u2019s \u201cplum pudding\u201d model, was that an atom has all of its positive\ncharge and virtually all of its mass concentrated in a tiny space at its\ncenter. (Collisions with this center, which came to be known thereafter\nas the nucleus, had been responsible for the sharp changes in direction\nof some of the alpha particles.) The space surrounding this nucleus is\nentirely empty except for the presence of a number of electrons (79 in\nthe case of the gold atom), each about the same size as the nucleus.\nTo illustrate Rutherford\u2019s concept, let us imagine a gold atom magnified\nso that it is as large as a bale of cotton. The nucleus at the center of\nthis large atom would be the size of a speck of black pepper. If this\nimaginary bale weighed 500 pounds, the little speck at its center would\nweigh 499\u00be pounds; the surrounding cotton (corresponding to empty space\nin Rutherford\u2019s concept) containing the 79 electrons would weigh but \u00bc\npound. To express this idea another way, any object such as a gold ring,\nas dense and solid as it may seem to us, consists almost entirely of\nnothing!\n                        The Proton Is Recognized\nRutherford\u2019s discovery aroused intense curiosity about the nature and\npossible structure of this extremely small, but all-important, part of\nan atom. It was assumed that the positive charge carried by the nucleus\nmust be a whole-number multiple of a small unit equal in size but\nopposite in sign to the charge of an electron. This conclusion was based\non the information that all atoms contain electrons and that an\nundisturbed atom is electrically neutral. Since it was known that a\nneutral atom of hydrogen contains just one electron, it appeared that\nthe charge on a hydrogen nucleus must represent the fundamental unit of\npositive charge, some multiple of which would represent the charge on\nany other nucleus. Several lines of investigation combined to establish\nquite firmly that nuclei of atoms occupying adjacent positions on the\nperiodic chart of the elements differed in charge by this fundamental\nunit. Since the hydrogen nucleus seemed to play such an important role\nin making up the charges of all other nuclei, it was given the name\nproton from the Greek \u201cprotos,\u201d which means \u201cfirst.\u201d\n                        Isotopes Are Discovered\nAt a historic meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of\nScience held in Birmingham, England, in 1913, two apparently unrelated\nlines of investigation were reported, each of which showed that some\natomic nuclei have identical electric charges but different weights.\nOne report was presented by Frederick Soddy, who had collaborated with\nRutherford in explaining the pattern of natural radioactivity. Soddy\nknew that the nucleus of a radioactive atom loses both weight and\npositive charge when it throws out an alpha particle (helium nucleus).\nOn the other hand, when a nucleus emits a beta particle (negative\nelectron), its positive charge increases, but its weight is practically\nunchanged. Thus Soddy could deduce the weights and nuclear charges of\nmany radioactive products. In several cases the products of two\ndifferent kinds of radioactivity had the same nuclear charge but\ndifferent weights. Since it is the positive charge carried by the\nnucleus of an atom which fixes the number of negative electrons needed\nto complete the atom, the nuclear charge is really responsible for the\nexterior appearance, or chemical properties, of the atom.\nThis conclusion was confirmed by unsuccessful efforts to separate by\nchemical means different radioactive products having the same nuclear\ncharge but different weights. The products might have had quite\ndifferent rates of radioactive disintegration, but they appeared to\nconsist of chemically identical atoms of the same chemical element and\nhence to belong at the _same place_ on the periodic chart of the\nelements. Soddy suggested that such atoms be called _isotopes_, from a\nGreek word meaning \u201csame place.\u201d\nAt the same meeting, Francis W. Aston, an assistant of Thomson,\ndescribed what happened when charged atoms, or ions, of neon gas were\naccelerated in a discharge tube similar to the cathode-ray tube in which\nThomson had discovered the electron. The rapidly moving neon ions were\ndeflected by a magnet. Since light objects are more easily deflected\nthan heavy objects, the amount of deflection indicated the weight. By\nmaking a comparison with a familiar gas like oxygen, Thomson and Aston\nwere actually able to measure the atomic weight of neon. To their\nsurprise they found two kinds of neon. About nine-tenths of the neon\natoms had an atomic weight of 20, and the remainder an atomic weight of\nWhat Thomson and Aston had done was to show that the stable element neon\nis a mixture of two isotopes. A device that can do what their apparatus\ndid is called a mass spectrograph. (See Figure 3.) Since their time,\ninstruments of this type have shown that more than three-fourths of the\nstable chemical elements are mixtures of two or more stable isotopes; in\nfact, there are about 300 such isotopes in all. The number of known\nunstable radioactive isotopes (radioisotopes), natural or man-made, is\ngreater than 1000 and is still growing!\n    [Illustration: Figure 3 _Mass spectrograph as used by Thomson and\n    Aston to measure the atomic weight of neon._]\n  NEON 20\n  NEON 22\n                    The Alchemists\u2019 Dream Comes True\nDuring the Middle Ages the desire to find a way to convert a base metal\nlike lead into gold was the outstanding incentive for research in\nchemistry. When the important role of the nucleus in determining the\nchemical properties of an atom became clear and the natural\ntransmutation accompanying radioactivity was understood, the fascinating\nidea occurred to many people that perhaps man would soon be able to\nalter the nucleus of a stable atom and thus deliberately convert one\nelement into another. In a historic lecture delivered in Washington, D.\nC., in April 1914, Rutherford said, \u201cIt is possible that the nucleus of\nan atom may be altered by direct collision of the nucleus with very\nswift electrons or atoms of helium (i.e., beta or alpha particles) such\nas are ejected from radioactive matter.... Under favorable conditions,\nthese particles must pass very close to the nucleus and may either lead\nto a disruption of the nucleus or to a combination with it.\u201d\n    [Illustration: _Medieval Alchemist_\n    Courtesy Fisher Scientific Company]\nWorld War I began shortly after Rutherford made this statement, and\npreoccupation with war work stopped his experiments with nuclei. In\n1919, however, he published a paper describing what happens when alpha\nparticles pass through nitrogen gas. Very fast protons, or hydrogen\nnuclei, appear to originate along the paths of the alpha particles. The\nfollowing is from Rutherford\u2019s paper:\n\u201cIf this be the case, we must conclude that the nitrogen atom is\ndisintegrated under the intense forces developed in a close collision\nwith a swift alpha particle, and that the hydrogen atom which is\nliberated formed a constituent part of the nitrogen nucleus.... The\nresults as a whole suggest that, if alpha particles or similar\nprojectiles of still greater energy were available for experiment, we\nmight expect to break down the nuclear structure of many of the lighter\natoms.\u201d\nThis prediction has certainly been verified through the use of the\natomic artillery provided by extremely powerful particle accelerators,\nor \u201catom smashers.\u201d[1]\n    [Illustration: _The Bevatron accelerator at the University of\n    California\u2019s Lawrence Radiation Laboratory, Berkeley, California,\n    shown after recent remodeling in which it was enclosed in concrete\n    shielding._\n    Courtesy Lawrence Radiation Laboratory]\nPatrick Blackett in England and W. D. Harkins in the United States soon\nproved independently that, during the nuclear event reported by\nRutherford in his 1919 paper, an alpha particle combines with a nitrogen\nnucleus and that the resulting unstable combination immediately emits a\nproton and ends up as one of the isotopes of oxygen. This was the first\ninstance of deliberate transmutation of one stable chemical element into\nanother. Since that time practically every known element has been\ntransmuted by bombardment. The dream of the alchemists has been\npartially fulfilled in that mercury has been changed into gold. We say\n\u201cpartially fulfilled\u201d because the process is much too expensive to be\neconomically profitable.\n                 Some Particles Have No Electric Charge\nDuring the early 1920s a number of investigators, including Harkins in\nthe United States, Orme Masson in Australia, and Rutherford and his\nassistant James Chadwick in England, seriously considered the\npossibility that a neutral particle might exist in nature, possibly\nformed by the very close association of a proton and an electron.\nHowever, strenuous efforts to produce such particles by combining\nprotons and electrons were unsuccessful.\nDuring these years the new technique of bombarding all kinds of matter\nwith alpha particles to see what would happen was widely exploited, and\nit gradually became clear that in a few instances a peculiar and highly\npenetrating kind of radiation was produced. In 1932, Chadwick succeeded\nin showing that the peculiar radiation must consist of a stream of\nparticles, each weighing about the same as a proton but having no\nelectrical charge.\nThe name \u201cneutron\u201d for a possible neutral particle of this type was\nsuggested by Harkins in the United States in 1921. Much evidence now\nexists that the neutron is a fundamental particle in its own right and\nthat it should not be thought of merely as a particle formed by a very\nclose association between a proton and an electron.\nThe new particle discovered by Chadwick was destined to play a totally\nunexpected role, not only in the history of atomic science but also in\nthe fate of nations. It immediately outmoded a previous concept of the\nnucleus that pictured it as a cluster of protons approximately half of\nwhich were neutralized by electrons crowded into the nucleus. A nucleus\nis now thought of as containing just protons and neutrons.\nThe neutron was also greeted by nuclear workers as a practically perfect\nkind of bullet. Unlike charged alpha particles, uncharged neutrons can\napproach a charged nucleus completely unopposed. It is physically\nimpossible for any kind of container to hold a swarm of free neutrons;\nthey seep right through its walls.\n                   Matter Is Energy; Energy Is Matter\nSo far, in the story about man\u2019s curiosity concerning the fundamental\nnature and structure of matter, the development of ideas about\n_structure_ has been emphasized. We will now take a brief look at a\ndevelopment which strongly influenced our ideas about the fundamental\n_nature_ of matter.\nIn 1887 reports appeared on a famous study, often referred to as the\nMichelson-Morley experiment, which was aimed at determining the earth\u2019s\nspeed through absolute space. The entirely unexpected results of the\nexperiment had a great impact on the concepts of space and time. We will\nhere concern ourselves with just one outcome of the experiment.\nIn 1905, a young German-born physics student named Albert Einstein, who\nwas working as a patent examiner in Switzerland, published three papers,\neach of which had a profound effect on a different field of physics.\nOne of the papers dealt with some peculiar speculations about space and\ntime which began to interest him when he was studying the\nMichelson-Morley experiment. The contents of the paper are now referred\nto as the Special Theory of Relativity. This paper contains several\npredictions that seemed incredible to the average physicist of that day.\nThese predictions have, however, long since been proved valid.\n    [Illustration: _Albert Einstein in 1905._\n    Courtesy Lotte Jacobi, Hillsboro, New Hampshire]\nOne of Einstein\u2019s predictions had to do with the equivalence of matter\nand energy. Until 1905 _matter_ had been considered as something that\nhas mass or inertia; _energy_, on the other hand, had been regarded as\nthe ability to do work. It was believed that the two were as different\nfrom each other as, say, a square yard is different from an hour.\nEinstein\u2019s theory, however, implies that matter and energy are merely\ntwo different manifestations of the same fundamental physical reality,\nand that each may be converted into the other according to the famous\nequation:\n  where\n      E = quantity of energy,\n      M = quantity of matter, and\n      C = speed of light in a vacuum.\n                         Nuclei Contain Energy\nOne more piece of information must be fitted into the story of the atom\nbefore it becomes clear why some people began to realize during the\n1920s that atomic nuclei contain vast stores of energy that might some\nday revolutionize civilization. This last item has to do with a nuclear\nphenomenon known as the packing fraction.\nSince any nucleus consists of a certain number of protons and neutrons,\nit seems logical that the total weight of the nucleus could be\ndetermined by adding together the individual weights of the particles in\nit. When mass spectrographs of sufficiently high accuracy became\navailable, however, it was found that in the case of nuclear weights,\nthe whole was not equal to the sum of its parts! All nuclei (except\nhydrogen) weigh less than the sum of the weights of the particles in\nthem.\nFor example, the atomic weight of a proton is 1.00812 and that of a\nneutron is 1.00893. (These are relative weights based on an\ninternationally accepted scale.) It would seem then that a nucleus of\nhelium containing two protons and two neutrons should have an atomic\nweight of 2 \u00d7 1.00812 plus 2 \u00d7 1.00893 or 4.0341. Actually the atomic\nweight of helium as measured by the mass spectrograph is only 4.0039.\n(See Figure 4.)\n    [Illustration: Figure 4 _A case where the whole is not equal to the\n    sum of its parts. Two protons and two neutrons are distinctly\n    heavier than a helium nucleus, which also consists of two protons\n    and two neutrons. Energy makes up the difference._]\n  HELIUM NUCLEUS\n  TWO PROTONS AND TWO NEUTRONS\nWhat happens to the missing atomic weight of 0.0302? Physicists now\nrealize that, as postulated in Einstein\u2019s formula, it must be converted\ninto energy! The conversion occurs when the protons and neutrons are\ndrawn together into a helium nucleus by the powerful nuclear forces\nbetween them.\nWhen the missing atomic weight 0.0302 is multiplied by the square of the\nvelocity of light according to Einstein\u2019s theory, it is found to\nrepresent a tremendous amount of energy. Indeed, the energy released in\nforming a helium nucleus from two protons and two neutrons turns out to\nbe seven million times that released when a carbon atom combines with an\noxygen molecule to produce a molecule of carbon dioxide in the familiar\nprocess of combustion.\nThe general behavior of such losses in atomic weight for atoms\nthroughout the periodic table had been determined as early as 1927,\nlargely through the work of Aston, the English scientist who developed\nthe first mass spectrograph. His results show that, in general, if two\nlight nuclei combine to form a heavier one, the new nucleus does not\nweigh as much as the sum of the original ones. This behavior continues\nup to the level of the so-called \u201ctransition metals\u201d\u2014iron, nickel, and\ncobalt\u2014in the periodic table. But if two nuclei heavier than iron are\ncoalesced into a single very heavy nucleus found near the end of the\nperiodic table (such as uranium), the new nucleus weighs more than the\nsum of the two nuclei that formed it.\nThus, if a very heavy nucleus could be divided into parts, energy would\nbe released, and the sum of the weights of the fragments would be less\nthan that of the original nucleus.\nIn these two types of nuclear reactions, a small amount of matter would\nactually vanish! Einstein\u2019s Special Theory of Relativity states that the\nvanished matter would reappear as an enormous quantity of energy.\nDuring the late 1920s scientists began saying that a small amount of\nmatter could supply enough energy to drive a large ship across the\nocean. As we know, this prediction has since been borne out by the\nperformance of nuclear submarines and surface vessels.\n    [Illustration: _The NS_ Savannah _was the first cargo-passenger ship\n    to be driven by nuclear power_.\n    Courtesy States Marine Lines]\n    [Illustration: _The_ Nautilus _was the Navy\u2019s first atomic-powered\n    submarine_.\n    Courtesy U. S. Navy]\n  1800          Dalton firmly establishes atomic theory of matter.\n  1890-1900     Thomson\u2019s experiments with cathode rays prove the\n                existence of electrons. Atoms are found to contain\n                negative electrons and positive electric charge.\n                Becquerel discovers unstable (radioactive) atoms.\n  1905          Einstein postulates the equivalence of mass and energy.\n  1911          Rutherford recognizes nucleus.\n  1919          Rutherford achieves transmutation of one stable chemical\n                element (nitrogen) into another (oxygen).\n  1920-1925     Improved mass spectrographs show that changes in mass per\n                nuclear particle accompanying transmutation account for\n                energy released by nucleus.\n  1932          Chadwick identifies neutrons.\n  1939          Discovery of uranium fission by German scientists.\n  1940          Discovery of neptunium by Edwin M. McMillan and Philip H.\n                Abelson and of plutonium by Glenn T. Seaborg and\n                associates at the University of California.\n  1942          Achievement of first self-sustaining nuclear reaction,\n                University of Chicago.\n  1945          First successful test of an atomic device, near\n                Alamagordo, New Mexico, followed by the dropping of\n                atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan.\n  1946          U. S. Atomic Energy Commission established by Act of\n                First shipment of radioisotopes from Oak Ridge goes to\n                hospital in St. Louis, Missouri.\n  1951          First significant amount of electricity (100 kilowatts)\n                produced from atomic energy at testing station in Idaho.\n  1952          First detonation of a thermonuclear bomb, Eniwetok Atoll,\n                Pacific Ocean.\n  1953          President Eisenhower announces U. S. Atoms-for-Peace\n                program and proposes establishment of an international\n                atomic energy agency.\n  1954          First nuclear-powered submarine, _Nautilus_, commissioned.\n  1955          First United Nations International Conference on Peaceful\n                Uses of Atomic Energy held in Geneva, Switzerland.\n  1957          First commercial use of power from a civilian reactor\n                takes place in California.\n                Shippingport Atomic Power Plant in Pennsylvania reaches\n                full power of 60,000 kilowatts.\n                International Atomic Energy Agency formally established.\n  1959          First nuclear-powered merchant ship, the _Savannah_,\n                launched at Camden, New Jersey.\n                Commissioning of first nuclear-powered Polaris\n                missile-launching submarine _George Washington_.\n  1961          A radioisotope-powered electric power generator placed in\n                orbit, the first use of nuclear power in space.\n  1962          Nuclear power plant in the Antarctic becomes operational.\n  1963          President Kennedy ratified the Limited Test Ban Treaty\n                for the United States on October 7.\n  1964          President Johnson signed law permitting private ownership\n                of certain nuclear materials.\n    [Illustration: _Enrico Fermi 1901-1954_\n    Courtesy Chemical and Engineering News]\nPhysicists welcomed the neutron as a bullet that could strike any\nnucleus, unopposed by electric repulsion. During the middle 1930s, a\nnumber of investigators, chief among them the Italian physicist Enrico\nFermi, exposed many different isotopes of the chemical elements to beams\nof neutrons to see what would happen.\nWhat usually happened was that the bombarded nuclei would absorb\nneutrons, emit alpha, beta, or gamma rays, and change into different\nisotopes. The identification of the extremely small quantities of\nisotopes produced required the development of a fantastic new branch of\nchemistry known as radiochemistry, or, as one chemist put it, \u201cphantom\nchemistry.\u201d\nIn some cases the absorption of a neutron by a nucleus was followed by\nthe emission of a negative electron (beta particle). This produced an\natom whose nuclear positive charge had been increased by one unit and\nwhich therefore belonged at the next higher place on the periodic table.\nFermi and others then considered the fascinating possibility of doing\nthe same thing to uranium, the last-known element on the periodic table,\nto create previously unknown chemical elements. The results of\nbombarding uranium with neutrons turned out to be extremely complex, but\nit eventually became clear that \u201ctransuranic\u201d elements (those heavier\nthan uranium) could actually be made in this way.[2]\nSome of the complex results of bombarding uranium with neutrons formed\nan intriguing puzzle that kept various investigators busy for several\nyears. In 1939 the German chemists Otto Hahn and Fritz Strassmann and\nthe physicists Lise Meitner and Otto Frisch were able to announce a\nsolution. The absorption of a neutron by a certain uranium nucleus\n(later shown to be that of the relatively rare isotope uranium-235) can\nresult in a splitting, or _fission_, of the nucleus into two parts with\nseparate weights that place them somewhere near the middle of the\nperiodic table.\n    [Illustration: _Lise Meitner and Otto Hahn in their laboratory in\n    Courtesy Addison-Wesley Publishing Co.]\nThe announcement of this discovery created quite a stir among physicists\nbecause a nuclear process of this nature must release a very large\namount of energy.\n    [Illustration: _Scale model of the CP-1 (Chicago Pile No. 1) used by\n    Enrico Fermi and his associates on December 2, 1942, to achieve the\n    first self-sustaining nuclear reaction. Alternate layers of\n    graphite, containing uranium metal and/or uranium oxide, were\n    separated by layers of solid graphite blocks. Graphite was used to\n    slow down neutrons to increase the likelihood of fissions._]\nThe excitement among physicists became even greater when it was realized\nthat this newly discovered process of fission was accompanied by the\nrelease of several free neutrons from the splitting nucleus. Each new\nneutron could, if properly slowed down by a moderating material, cause\nanother nucleus to split and release more energy and still more\nneutrons, and so on, as illustrated in Figure 5. (A moderator is\nnecessary because fast, newly released neutrons are too readily absorbed\nby uranium-238 nuclei, which rarely split.) Apparently all that was\nneeded to achieve this spectacular kind of a chain reaction was to\nassemble enough uranium in one place so that the released neutrons would\nhave a good chance of finding another \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U nucleus before escaping from\nthe pile. The amount of fissionable material required to sustain a chain\nreaction is termed the \u201ccritical mass.\u201d A team of scientists led by\nFermi achieved the first self-sustaining nuclear reaction on December 2,\n1942, under the grandstand at the University of Chicago\u2019s athletic\nfield. This date is often referred to as the beginning of the Nuclear\nAge.\n    [Illustration: Figure 5 _This diagram shows what happens in a chain\n    reaction resulting from fission of uranium-235 atoms._]\n  STRAY NEUTRON\n  ORIGINAL FISSION\n    FISSION FRAGMENTS\n    One to three neutrons from fission process\n    A NEUTRON SOMETIMES LOST\n    CHANGES TO PLUTONIUM\n    ONE NEW FISSION\n    FISSION FRAGMENT\n    One to three neutrons again\n    TWO NEW FISSIONS\n    FISSION FRAGMENTS\n                      The Fission Bomb Is Exploded\nThe American scientists present on that historic December day were part\nof the tremendous super-secret scientific and industrial complex that\nbore the unrevealing title Manhattan District. The United States had\nbeen at war almost a year. An uncontrolled fission reaction gave promise\nof producing an explosion of untold proportions. This promise, coupled\nwith the possibility that enemy scientists might be nearing such a goal,\nhad launched a vast Allied effort.\nThe Manhattan Project, as it was commonly known, included a variety of\n\u201chush-hush\u201d facilities. Each of these installations, in New York,\nIllinois, Tennessee, New Mexico, California, and Washington, had its own\nexperts working night and day to solve the baffling problems surrounding\ndevelopment of a fission weapon.\nOrdinary uranium as found in nature was not suitable for an atomic bomb\nbecause less than one percent of the atoms in it are fissionable isotope\n\u00b2\u00b3\u2075U.[3] It therefore became necessary to find some means for separating\nthe rare \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U from the large quantity of \u00b2\u00b3\u2078U. Chemistry could not do it\nsince the two isotopes are identical chemically.\nSeveral methods of achieving large-scale separation were tried. The most\nsuccessful and economical, known as \u201cgaseous diffusion,\u201d involves\ncompressing normal uranium, in the form of uranium hexafluoride gas,\nagainst a porous barrier containing millions of holes, each smaller than\ntwo-millionths of an inch. Since the \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U molecules are slightly lighter\nthan the \u00b2\u00b3\u2078U, they bounce against the barrier more frequently and have\na greater chance of penetrating. Thus, although the gas at first\ncontains only 0.7% \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U, the process of compression is repeated several\nthousand times, and the proportion gradually increases until the\nnecessary concentration is reached.\nFor this operation an enormous plant containing a very large barrier\narea, miles of piping, and countless pumps was built at Oak Ridge,\nTennessee.\nAt the same time that vast efforts were being made to produce a \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U\nbomb, another project of equal importance was being pursued to develop a\ndifferent kind of fission bomb. Uncertainty as to whether it would be\npossible to separate usable amounts of \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U led to a decision to exploit\na highly significant discovery about one of the transuranic elements.\nBy 1941 Glenn T. Seaborg, Edwin M. McMillan, Philip H. Abelson, and\nothers at the Radiation Laboratory, Berkeley, California, had identified\nisotopes of two new transuranic elements developed when they bombarded\n\u00b2\u00b3\u2078U nuclei with neutrons. The new elements were named neptunium and\nplutonium after the planets Neptune and Pluto, which lie beyond Uranus\nin the solar system.[4] One isotope of plutonium, plutonium-239, which\nresulted from the absorption of a neutron by a \u00b2\u00b3\u2078U nucleus and the\nemission of two beta particles, was discovered to be as fissionable as\n\u00b2\u00b3\u2075U and hence theoretically just as feasible for a bomb. Since\nplutonium is chemically different from uranium, it offered the\ntremendous advantage that it could readily be concentrated by\nconventional chemical techniques.\nThe way to manufacture usable amounts of plutonium, an element that had\nnever before been detected on earth, is to expose uranium to a very\nintense neutron bombardment. The best-known place to find a rich supply\nof neutrons was the heart of a self-sustaining chain-reacting pile of\nuranium. Accordingly, very large piles, or _reactors_, were rushed to\ncompletion near the Columbia River at Hanford, Washington, to make\nplutonium.\n    [Illustration: _First atomic bomb explosion at Alamagordo, New\n    Courtesy U. S. Army]\nOn July 16, 1945, a plutonium bomb, carefully assembled by another group\nof scientists at \u201cProject Y,\u201d Los Alamos, New Mexico, was successfully\ntested in the New Mexico desert. The heat from that first man-made\nnuclear explosion completely vaporized a tall steel tower and melted\nseveral acres of surrounding surface sand. The flash of light was the\nbrightest the earth had ever witnessed.\nA \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, Japan, on August 6, 1945. Three\ndays later a plutonium bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, Japan. Hostilities\nended on August 14, 1945.\n                Nuclear Energy Is Needed for the Future\nThe chief source of the enormous quantities of energy used daily by\nmodern civilization is fossil fuels in the form of coal, petroleum, and\nnatural gas. Concentrated sources of these fuels, though large, are far\nfrom inexhaustible, and it has been said that future historians may\nrefer to the brief time when they were used as \u201cthe fossil-fuel\nincident.\u201d\n    [Illustration: _These lights of downtown Pittsburgh are symbolic of\n    the generation of electricity by atomic power from Shippingport,\n    Pennsylvania, the site of the world\u2019s first full-scale\n    atomic-electric generation station exclusively for civilian needs.\n    Homes and factories of the greater Pittsburgh area are receiving the\n    electricity produced at the plant and transmitted through the\n    Duquesne Light Company system. The Shippingport plant is a joint\n    project of Westinghouse Electric Corporation, U. S. Atomic Energy\n    Commission, and the Duquesne Light Company._\n    Courtesy Westinghouse Electric Corporation]\nThe next great source of energy will probably be nuclear reactors, in\nwhich controlled chain reactions release energy from the large store of\nfissionable materials in the world.[5]\nThe accomplishments of nuclear power in the propulsion of ships have\nalready been noted. In addition, there is now going on in industrialized\ncountries in different parts of the world a large-scale development of\nnuclear power plants for production of electricity. Nuclear electric\npower is approaching the point where it will be economically competitive\nwith power from hydroelectric plants or those burning coal, oil, or gas\nas fuels. Improvements in nuclear power technology are rapidly being\nmade, and it is now widely predicted that before the end of this century\nmost new electric power plants will be nuclear.\nOne of the greatest puzzles to be solved by physicists arose from the\nwork of geologists. When it became clear that coal and other fossil\nremains of living things date from many hundreds of millions of years\nago, it was obvious that the earth\u2019s sun had been shining at a quite\nsteady rate for an extremely long time.\nHow does it manage to do it? What is its source of energy? Chemical\nenergy supplied by combustion and gravitational potential energy\nsupplied by contraction are thousands of times too small to have kept\nthe sun going for such a long time.\nThe principle illustrated by Figure 4 suggests the most probable source\nof energy for the sun and all the other stars as well. It is known that\nthe sun consists chiefly of hydrogen and that it has a temperature of\nabout 40,000,000 degrees Fahrenheit near its center. Several kinds of\nnuclear reactions produced in atom smashers have demonstrated that\nhydrogen nuclei, if energized by being heated to a very high\ntemperature, can actually combine, or fuse, to form helium nuclei.\nThe accompanying loss of weight per particle indicated by Figure 4 must\nresult in the appearance of sufficient energy to balance Einstein\u2019s\nfamous equation. In fact, calculations by the German-born American\nphysicist Hans A. Bethe and others show that, based on reasonable\nestimates of the conditions within the sun, familiar nuclear reactions\naccount for its energy. The calculations predict, furthermore, that the\nsun can continue to operate at its present level for many billions of\nyears.\n    [Illustration: _Large loop prominences on the sun, caused by a\n    locally intense magnetic field. Project Sherwood, the U. S. program\n    in controlled fusion, is devoted to research on fusion reactions\n    similar to those from which the sun derives its energy._\n    Courtesy Sacramento Peak Observatory, AFCRL]\nSince fusion of light nuclei is produced by extremely high temperatures,\nfusion events are called _thermonuclear reactions_. The possibility of\nbringing about thermonuclear reactions on earth to serve as a source of\nenergy has naturally attracted much attention.\nIn spite of the fact that fusion of ordinary hydrogen atoms (each of\nwhich has one proton as its nucleus) supports the activity of the sun,\nthis particular reaction seems to occur much too slowly to be usable on\nearth. Other isotopes of hydrogen, called deuterium and tritium,\nhowever, which contain one and two neutrons in their nuclei,\nrespectively, fuse much more rapidly and seem to be potential earthly\nsources of controlled thermonuclear energy.\n    [Illustration: _An early phase of a nuclear detonation at Eniwetok\n    Atoll during the 1951 tests._\n    Courtesy Joint Task Force Three]\nThe first large-scale application of thermonuclear energy was the\nso-called hydrogen bomb, or \u201cH-bomb.\u201d For a brief time an exploding\nfission bomb develops a temperature of hundreds of millions of degrees\nFahrenheit, hot enough to cause some light nuclei to fuse. In the\nhydrogen bomb, light nuclei of deuterium and/or tritium are exposed to\nthis temperature during such a fission explosion. The resulting fusion\nof these nuclei causes the explosion to be hundreds of times more\npowerful than that of the fission device alone. In 1952 the Atomic\nEnergy Commission test-fired such a thermonuclear device at Eniwetok\nAtoll in the Pacific Ocean. The energy released by the highly efficient\ndevice produced an explosion that completely destroyed the coral islet\nwhere it was detonated.\nAt such extreme temperatures all atoms are stripped of electrons; the\nresulting mixture of nuclei and free electrons is called a _plasma_.\nSeveral laboratories are now working on the problems connected with\ncreating and containing plasma. Ordinary solid containers cannot be\nused. On contact with plasma they would instantly vaporize and would\ncool the plasma below the temperature necessary for fusion to occur.\nFortunately, however, the particles that make up a plasma, being charged\nelectrically, respond to forces in a magnetic field. A strong magnetic\nfield of proper shape exerts a large confining pressure on a body of\nplasma in a high-vacuum chamber. Thus plasma can be contained in a small\nvolume well removed from the walls of the chamber by surrounding the\nchamber with suitably designed large magnets or solenoids to create a\n\u201cmagnetic bottle.\u201d In addition, a sudden increase in the intensity of\nthe field can compress the plasma; this compression raises the\ntemperature of the plasma to near that required for fusion.\n    [Illustration: _This plasma is being pushed outward by an internal\n    magnetic field as instabilities grow on its internal surface. The\n    photo was taken by means of fast-shutter photography permitting\n    photo sequences at intervals of 3 to 5 millionths of a second._\n    Courtesy General Atomic Division, General Dynamics Corporation]\nFusion of light nuclei would be a much \u201ccleaner\u201d source of energy for\npeaceful purposes than fission of heavy ones, because the \u201cashes\u201d of\nfission reactions are radioactive while those of fusion (helium atoms)\nare not. Great technical difficulties must be overcome, however, before\na controlled thermonuclear reaction is possible. Fusionable material\nmust be heated to a temperature of over 100 million degrees Fahrenheit\nand must be contained long enough for an appreciable amount of fusion to\noccur.\nThe greatest problem encountered to date is the extreme instability of\nthe plasma and the corresponding difficulty of maintaining it at the\nproper temperature longer than a few millionths of a second. Many\nphysicists now think that the successful exploitation of thermonuclear\nenergy will not occur for many years. When and if it is achieved,\nhowever, the deuterium present in the oceans of the earth will represent\nan almost inexhaustible source of energy.\n                        Isotopes Have Many Uses\nThe ability to produce and control nuclear reactions is affecting, and\nwill doubtless continue to affect, human life in two outstanding ways.\nOne way is by making tremendous amounts of energy available, either as\nexplosions or as energy released from controlled reactions for peacetime\nuse. The other way is by producing a vast variety of radioactive\nisotopes, first in the particle accelerators (\u201catom smashers\u201d) mentioned\nearlier, and now in large quantities in nuclear reactors.\nThe presence of a radioactive isotope can be detected by instruments\nlike the familiar Geiger counter; for this reason isotopes make\nwonderful tracers. These telltale atoms, which, in effect, continually\ncry \u201cHere I am,\u201d can trace the course of a chemical element through any\nkind of chemical reaction. Chemists are taking advantage of this new way\nof tagging atoms to study reaction patterns that, heretofore, have been\nobscure.\nAs a consequence, a scientist\u2019s ability to synthesize scarce chemicals\nis being increased. The exact role of numerous essential trace elements\nin the growth and metabolism of living things, including people, is\nbeing studied by the use of tagged atoms.\n                         Radioisotopes at Work\n    [Illustration: IN MEDICINE: _Iodine-131 reveals spread of thyroid\n    cancer in patient\u2019s body._]\n    [Illustration: IN SPACE: _Plutonium-238 is the fuel for the atomic\n    generator powering this TRANSIT satellite._\n    Courtesy The Martin Company]\n    [Illustration: IN FOOD PRESERVATION: _Potatoes stored for 18 months\n    at 47\u00b0F. Potato at right had been irradiated, that on left had\n    [Illustration: IN INDUSTRY: _Radioactive iridium was used to inspect\n    the hull of the carrier_ Independence.\n    Courtesy Technical Operations, Inc.]\nAs sources of radiation, radioactive isotopes are frequently replacing\nmore expensive and less convenient sources such as radium and X-ray\nmachines. The medical treatment of diseased tissue has been greatly\nexpedited by the new sources. In industry many applications of radiation\nsources have been made. They are used, for example, in thickness gauging\nand in making radiographs to check the quality of large castings. The\nsterilization and preservation of food is another promising use for\ninexpensive radioactive sources.\nAs a controllable means for inducing genetic mutations, radioactive\nisotopes are speeding up the process of selecting and developing\nsuperior agricultural products. Practically every agricultural research\ncenter in the world has one or more projects under way which involve the\nuse of isotopes.\nSmall devices have also been constructed which produce electricity from\nheat generated by decay of radioisotopes. Such devices have been used to\npower instruments in a remotely located unmanned weather station, a\nnavigational buoy, a lighthouse, an underwater navigational beacon, and\nspace satellites. Many additional uses are foreseen for these isotopic\npower generators.\n                      The Atomic Energy Commission\nFollowing the end of World War II a vigorous controversy developed as to\nwhether atomic energy development in the United States should continue\nunder military control or be transferred to civilian control. The\nproponents of civilian control won out, and a civilian Atomic Energy\nCommission was established by the Atomic Energy Act of 1946. Under this\nAct, which was amended in 1954, the AEC manufactures nuclear weapons for\nthe armed services; produces fissionable materials for both military and\ncivilian purposes; fosters research and development in the basic\nsciences underlying atomic energy and in applications such as power\nproduction and uses of radioisotopes; regulates the activities of\nprivate organizations using atomic energy; and distributes information\nabout atomic energy. (This booklet is a small example; most of the\ninformation distributed is much more detailed and technical.)\n    [Illustration: _President Truman signs the bill creating the U. S.\n    Atomic Energy Commission on August 1, 1946. Behind the President,\n    left to right: Senators Tom Connally, Eugene D. Millikin, Edwin C.\n    Johnson, Thomas C. Hart, Brien McMahon, Warren R. Austin, and\n    Richard B. Russell._\n    Courtesy United Press International]\nAlmost all of the AEC\u2019s materials production and research and\ndevelopment activities are carried out under contract by other\norganizations. American industry, universities, and research\norganizations also are engaged in widespread atomic energy activities of\ntheir own, subject only to such government regulations as are needed to\nprotect national security and public health and safety. For example, the\nlargest atomic electric power plants now in operation in this country\nare privately owned, as are numerous small atomic reactors used for\nresearch. At the end of 1962 some 7000 firms, institutions or\nindividuals in the United States held federal or state licenses giving\nthem permission to use radioisotopes. The number of persons employed in\natomic energy work in the United States is estimated to be about\n140,000, of which only 8000 work for the Federal Government.\n                      Toward an International Atom\nIn December 1953, President Eisenhower, in a memorable address to the\nGeneral Assembly of the United Nations, proposed the establishment under\nthe aegis of the United Nations of an International Atomic Energy Agency\n\u201cto serve the peaceful pursuits of mankind.\u201d This proposal captured the\nimagination of people everywhere, and negotiations soon began as to the\npurpose, structure, scope, and program of such an organization. In\nOctober 1956 an 81-nation United Nations conference unanimously adopted\na statute for the agency, which came into existence a year later with\nheadquarters in Vienna, Austria. By the end of 1962 the IAEA had 78\nmember countries. Its most important work has been assisting some of the\nless developed nations of the world to begin programs for peaceful use\nof atomic energy.\n    [Illustration: _On December 8, 1953, President Dwight D. Eisenhower\n    proposed before the United Nations General Assembly that an\n    International Atomic Energy Agency be established through which all\n    nations could share knowledge and materials to develop the peaceful\n    uses of atomic energy for the benefit of all mankind. Seated on the\n    presidential platform are, left to right, Mr. Dag Hammarskj\u00f6ld,\n    Secretary-General of the U. N., Madame Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit of\n    India, President of the General Assembly, and Mr. Andrew Cordier,\n    Executive Assistant to the Secretary-General._\n    Courtesy United Nations]\n    [Illustration: _This 150,000-kilowatt, dual-cycle, boiling-water\n    reactor, located 35 miles north of Naples, Italy, on the Garigliano\n    River, was built by General Electric under the United States-Euratom\n    Joint Program. It achieved criticality on June 5, 1963._]\nEven before the international agency became an accomplished fact, the\nUnited States sought on its own to implement the spirit of President\nEisenhower\u2019s proposal. It initiated in 1955 an Atoms-for-Peace Program\nunder which the United States has made bilateral agreements with some 40\nnations for the sharing of information on peaceful uses of atomic energy\nand under which the United States has helped other nations to acquire\nnuclear reactors and materials for peaceful use.\nMention should also be made of the International Conferences on Peaceful\nUses of Atomic Energy which the United Nations held in Geneva,\nSwitzerland, in 1955, 1958, and 1964. The 1955 conference was\nparticularly noteworthy in that it marked the first time that scientists\nhad met on a worldwide basis to discuss atomic energy. At and following\nthis meeting much information previously kept secret was made public.\n                          Suggested References\nBooks\n_Atomic Energy_, Irene D. Jaworski and Alexander Joseph, Harcourt, Brace\n_Atompower_, Joseph M. Dukert, Coward-McCann, Inc., New York 10016,\n_Atoms Today and Tomorrow_ (revised edition), Margaret O. Hyde,\n      McGraw-Hill Book Company, New York 10036, 1966, 160 pp., $3.25.\n_Basic Laws of Matter_ (revised edition), Harrie S. W. Massey and Arthur\n      R. Quinton, Herald Books, Bronxville, New York 10710, 1965, 178\n_Building Blocks of the Universe_ (revised edition), Isaac Asimov,\n      Abelard-Schuman, Ltd., New York 10019, 1961, 380 pp., $3.50\n      (hardback); $2.70 (paperback) from E. M. Hale and Company, Eau\n      Claire, Wisconsin 54701.\n_Elements of the Universe_, Glenn T. Seaborg and Evans G. Valens, E. P.\n      Dutton and Company, Inc., New York 10003, 1958, 253 pp., $4.95\n      (hardback); $2.15 (paperback).\n_Inside the Atom_ (revised edition), Isaac Asimov, Abelard-Schuman,\n_Introducing the Atom_, Roslyn Leeds, Harper and Row, Publishers, New\n_Peacetime Uses of Atomic Energy_ (revised edition), Martin Mann, The\n      Viking Press, New York 10022, 1961, 191 pp., $5.00 (hardback);\n_The Useful Atom_, William R. Anderson and Vernon Pizer, The World\n      Publishing Company, Cleveland, Ohio 44102, 1966, 185 pp., $5.75.\n_Secret of the Mysterious Rays: The Discovery of Nuclear Energy_, Vivian\n      Grey, Basic Books, Inc., Publishers, New York 10016, 1966, 120\n_The Heart of the Atom: The Structure of the Atomic Nucleus_, Bernard L.\n      Cohen, Doubleday and Company, Inc., New York 10017, 1967, 120 pp.,\n      $3.95 (hardback); $1.25 (paperback).\n_The Questioners: Physicists and the Quantum Theory_, Barbara L. Cline,\n      Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York 10003, 1965, 274 pp., $5.00.\n_The Atom and Its Nucleus_, George Gamow, Prentice-Hall, Inc., Englewood\n_The Atomic Energy Deskbook_, John F. Hogerton, Reinhold Publishing\n_Atomic Energy Encyclopedia in the Life Sciences_, Charles W. Shilling\n      (Ed.), W. B. Saunders Company, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19105,\n_Atoms for Peace_ (revised edition), David O. Woodbury, Dodd, Mead and\n_Manhattan Project_, Stephane Groueff, Little, Brown and Company,\n_The New World, 1939/1946_, Volume 1\u2014History of the United States Atomic\n      Energy Commission, Richard G. Hewlett and Oscar E. Anderson, Jr.,\n      The Pennsylvania State University Press, University Park,\n_Sourcebook on Atomic Energy_ (third edition), Samuel Glasstone, D. Van\n      Nostrand Company, Inc., Princeton, New Jersey 08540, 1967, 883\n_The World of the Atom_, 2 volumes, Henry A. Boorse and Lloyd Matz\n      (Eds.), Basic Books, Inc., Publishers, New York 10016, 1966, 1873\nMotion Pictures\nAvailable for loan without charge from the AEC Headquarters Film\nLibrary, Division of Public Information, U. S. Atomic Energy Commission,\nWashington, D. C., and from other AEC film libraries.\nEach of the following motion pictures explains atomic structure,\nfission, and the chain reaction. Additional contents are listed below\nwith the film.\n_A Is for Atom_, 15 minutes, sound, color, 1964. Produced by the General\n      Electric Company. This film discusses natural and artificially\n      produced elements, stable and unstable atoms, principles and\n      applications of nuclear reactors, and the benefits of atomic\n      radiation to biology, medicine, industry, and agriculture. (Level:\n      elementary through high school.)\n_Atomic Energy_, 10 minutes, sound, black and white, 1950. Produced by\n      Encyclopedia Britannica Films, Inc. The film explains nuclear\n      synthesis and shows how, through photosynthesis, the sun\u2019s energy\n      is stored on earth and released through combustion. (Level:\n      intermediate through high school.)\n_Controlling Atomic Energy_, 13\u00bd minutes, sound, color, 1961. Produced\n      by United World Films, Inc. This film gives a summary explanation\n      of the following: radioactive atoms, radioactivity measurement,\n      nuclear reactors, and the production and application of\n      radioisotopes in biology, medicine, industry, agriculture, and\n      research. (Level: 5th through 8th grades.)\n_Introducing Atoms and Nuclear Energy_, 11 minutes, sound, color, 1963.\n      Produced by Coronet Instructional Films. This film discusses\n      nuclear fusion in the sun and, very briefly, the uses of nuclear\n      energy. (Level: 4th through 9th grades.)\n_Atomic Physics_, 90 minutes, sound, black and white, 1948. Produced by\n      the J. Arthur Rank Organisation, Inc. This film discusses in\n      detail the history and development of atomic energy with emphasis\n      on nuclear physics. Dalton\u2019s basic atomic theory, Faraday\u2019s early\n      electrolysis experiments, and Mendeleev\u2019s periodic table, the\n      investigation of cathode rays, discovery of the electron, how the\n      nature of positive rays was established, and the discovery of X\n      rays are among the historical highlights. Explanation is presented\n      of the work of the Joliot-Curie\u2019s and Chadwick in the discovery of\n      the neutron, and the splitting of the lithium atom by Cockcroft\n      and Walton. Einstein tells how their work illustrates his theory\n      of equivalence of mass and energy. (Level: high school.)\n_Unlocking the Atom_, 20 minutes, sound, black and white, 1950. Produced\n      by United World Films, Inc. This film explains the properties of\n      alpha, beta, and gamma rays, cyclotrons, and the contributions of\n      various scientists. (Level: junior and senior high school.)\nThis \u201cUnderstanding the Atom\u201d series of semi-technical lecture films is\ndesigned for inclusion in a high school senior-level chemistry or\nphysics course, or it could be used as an introductional unit in nuclear\nscience at the college level. The films all have sound and are in black\nand white.\n  _Alpha, Beta, and Gamma_, 44 minutes, 1962.\n  _Radiation and Matter_, 44 minutes, 1962.\n  _Radiation Detection by Ionization_, 30 minutes, 1962.\n  _Radiation Detection by Scintillation_, 30 minutes, 1963.\n  _Properties of Radiation_, 30 minutes, 1962.\n  _Nuclear Reactions_, 29\u00bd minutes, 1963.\n  _Radiological Safety_, 30 minutes, 1963.\n[1]For more information about these devices, see _Accelerators_, a\n    companion booklet in this Understanding the Atom series.\n[2]For more information, see _Synthetic Transuranium Elements_, another\n    booklet in this series.\n[3]The designation \u00b2\u00b3\u2075U is a new format, now in international usage, for\n    the more familiar style, U\u00b2\u00b3\u2075, to designate isotopes.\n[4]For more about plutonium, see _Plutonium_, a companion booklet in\n    this series.\n[5]For more information on reactors, see _Nuclear Reactors_, another\n    booklet in this series.\n\u2014Silently corrected a few typos.\n\u2014Retained publication information from the printed edition: this eBook\n  is public-domain in the country of publication.\n\u2014In the text versions only, text in italics is delimited by\n  _underscores_.", "source_dataset": "gutenberg", "source_dataset_detailed": "gutenberg -  Our Atomic World\n"},
{"language": "eng", "scanningcenter": "capitolhill", "sponsor": "The Library of Congress", "contributor": "The Library of Congress", "date": "1938", "title": "Abigail,", "creator": "Sperry, Portia Howe", "lccn": "38025508", "collection": ["library_of_congress", "fedlink", "americana"], "shiptracking": "ST011106", "partner_shiptracking": "IAGC151", "call_number": "5967762", "identifier_bib": "00020839156", "lc_call_number": "PZ7.S750 Ab", "publisher": "Chicago, A. Whitman", "associated-names": "Donaldson, Lois, joint author", "description": "196 p. 22 cm", "mediatype": "texts", "repub_state": "19", "page-progression": "lr", "publicdate": "2019-06-19 10:11:27", "updatedate": "2019-06-19 11:11:47", "updater": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "identifier": "abigail00sper", "uploader": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "addeddate": "2019-06-19 11:11:49", "possible-copyright-status": "The Library of Congress is unaware of any copyright restrictions for this item.", "note": "If you have a question or comment about this digitized item from the collections of the Library of Congress, please use the Library of Congress \u201cAsk a Librarian\u201d form: <a href=\"https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html\">https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html</a>", "operator": "associate-saw-thein@archive.org", "tts_version": "2.1-final-2-gcbbe5f4", "camera": "Sony Alpha-A6300 (Control)", "scanner": "scribe2.capitolhill.archive.org", "imagecount": "210", "scandate": "20190702153802", "sent_to_scribe": "scribe2.capitolhill.archive.org", "ppi": "300", "republisher_operator": "associate-melanie-zapata@archive.org;associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "republisher_date": "20190703083252", "republisher_time": "772", "foldoutcount": "0", "identifier-access": "http://archive.org/details/abigail00sper", "identifier-ark": "ark:/13960/t0fv69k3h", "scanfee": "300;10.7;214", "invoice": "36", "openlibrary_edition": "OL6375214M", "openlibrary_work": "OL7631097W", "curation": "[curator]admin-andrea-mills@archive.org[/curator][date]20190906122214[/date][state]approved[/state][comment]invoice201907[/comment]", "sponsordate": "20190731", "additional-copyright-note": "No known restrictions; no copyright renewal found.", "external-identifier": "urn:oclc:record:1156214609", "backup_location": "ia906906_0", "oclc-id": "2369827", "ocr_module_version": "0.0.21", "ocr_converted": "abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.37", "page_number_confidence": "89", "page_number_module_version": "1.0.3", "creation_year": 1938, "content": "sssssisn \nscat \n\u201ea,aa.aa..aaaaa:ataa;\u00bb\u00bbaa**a*;\u00bb;*\u00bb*\u00bb;j* \nM  \u25a0tirw<lu>iuuu\u00bb>ai  taaail  ..\u00bb**\u2022\u00ab  \u00bbaaa.Vn\u00ab'\u00aba \n:szsztt! \n\u25a0*\u2022\u00ab\u2022#\u00ab \"zzzzzza \n:2~:r:  ^socssunacuj \nirsgdgasgggamsjsgi \nUiz \niUissnUzz \naaa.<a.\u00ab  ifa<auuui.a\u00abiti*aa.t.ilii \n*<ia*aa><aa \n\u25a0WMUIM \n^^Hivaaaaaaiaaaaaa. \nC%gWgCC4XSS \nItM.naa  \u00aba.Mi.a*w\u00ab. \ntsintn::ssnssi:&s::sc \njscsajJfKKn^rsrs::::::; \nuZalTaaa  a  \u2022\u2022  >Ma  Uaava  a.i  naa.  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The little party floated quietly past the scene.\n\nThe Arrival\n\"Here are your own nightgown and nightcap,\" she said.\n\nNashville\n\"Those are oranges, Susan,\" (frontispiece)\n\"Oh, Grandmother, here's a doll!\" (facing title page)\n\nOn a Hilltop\n\"Well, here you are at last!\"\n\nA Good Neighbor\nA man on horseback rode up.\n\n\"Where did you find her, Uncle Jake?\"\nShe worked harder than ever at the big loom.\nSusan laid Abigail down.\nTo A.J. Rogers,\nwhose encouragement made this work in Brown County possible.\nTo HVD, GFA, and M McE,\nwho were with me on the motor trip which made this book possible.\nCo N I\nI\n\nAbigail Arrives\n\n\"Susan,\" called Grandmother, \"come and see what I have made for you to take to Indiana.\"\n\nGrandmother stood in the doorway of the log cabin, and Susan was down near the brook. She was brushing aside the dead leaves and patches of snow, hunting for the first spring beauties. Though it was the middle of March, southern Kentucky lay warm in the spring sunshine, and Susan was without a hat.\n\nAbigail\n\nSusan looked longingly at the brook as it wound through a clump of willows. She was sure there would be spring beauties snuggled close to the old trees. But Grandmother stood waiting in the door.\nSusan turned from the brook and ran up the hill toward the cabin. \"Something to take with me to Indiana,\" she thought. What could it be? A quilt? A dress? Perhaps it was the old brass candlestick that Grandmother had promised Susan would be hers someday. It might also be a gay rag rug for Susan to put beside her bed to step onto on cold mornings. Susan knew Grandmother was always making rag carpets, when she wasn't knitting.\n\n\"Now shut your eyes and hold out your hands,\" laughed Grandmother, as she caught Susan in her arms and placed her hands over her eyes.\n\nSlowly she led Susan across the threshold of the cabin. \"If we turn to the right, it will be a quilt, for Grandmother has put it on the bed,\" thought Susan. \"If we go straight across the room, we will be in the kitchen.\"\nI will approach the fireplace, and then I believe it will be the candlestick that Grandmother keeps on the shelf above it. If we turn to the left, we will be near the old chest, and almost anything could come out of that!\n\nGrandmother turned to the left and stopped in front of the oak chest. \"Keep your eyes closed tightly, Susan,\" said Grandmother, \"while I open the chest.\"\n\n\"I will,\" promised Susan, her eyes shut so tightly that her whole face was wrinkled. \"But please hurry! I'm so curious I don't believe I can wait another minute.\"\n\nGrandmother lifted out a long box smoothly covered with gay red calico. It was round, like a log, and in the middle was a leather strap sewn at both ends with Grandmother's small even stitches to make a handle. She closed the chest and placed the long round box in Susan's outstretched arms.\n\"She looked at the bright red box wonderingly, then at her grandmother's blue eyes. \"What is it, Grandmother? What is it?\" she asked eagerly. \"Sit down here, child,\" was the answer, as grandmother pushed Susan's stool with its Abigail woven cane seat towards her. \"You can open the box by pulling out one end.\" Susan opened the box and exclaimed, \"Oh, Grandmother, it's a doll! She's dressed just like me. Her dress is made of the same calico mine is. Oh, dear doll!\" Susan hugged the doll close in her arms. \"She's so soft and cuddly. Her shoes and her sunbonnet are just like mine. Oh, Grandmother, thank you a hundred times.\" Susan rushed to her grandmother and put her arm around her neck, holding the doll closely.\"\nI shall name her Abigail after you, Grandmother earnestly said.\nThank you, dear. I'd like that, answered Grandmother. The box she came in looks just like a traveling case I had when I was a little girl. It was called a portmanteau. So here is Abigail with her portmanteau, ready to leave for Indiana whenever you are. I meant to give her to you for Christmas, but when I knew you were all going to Indiana this spring, I said to myself, \"Little Susan will grow tired on such a long journey, and I'll hurry and make that doll for her to play with on the way.\" I've been planning for a long time to make her for you, so I set right to work. She's stuffed with wool from your grandfather's sheep, Susan. So when she gets dirty, you can wash her. I made her jointed so she can sit down, too.\n\nCleaned Text: I shall name her Abigail after you, Grandmother earnestly said. \"Thank you, dear. I'd like that,\" answered Grandmother. The box she came in looks just like a traveling case I had when I was a little girl, called a portmanteau. Here is Abigail with her portmanteau, ready to leave for Indiana whenever you are. I meant to give her to you for Christmas but gave her to Susan instead when I knew you were all going to Indiana this spring. I've been planning for a long time to make her for you, so I set right to work. She's stuffed with wool from your grandfather's sheep and made jointed so she can sit down.\nGrandmother set Abigail down carefully on the floor beside Susan and looked affectionately at the two small figures, each so like the other.\n\n\"What a pretty face!\" Susan exclaimed when she had taken the doll in her arms again and was looking happily into its blue eyes. \"Did you paint it, Grandmother?\"\n\n\"No, your Aunt Rachel did that,\" said Grandmother. \"Last fall, she gathered roots and berries and tried to find which dyes looked best. Then she began painting faces. She painted faces on her milk glass plate, then washed them off so she could try again. When she made one to suit her, she brought it over to show me. I was as pleased when I saw it as you are now,\" laughed Grandmother.\n\n\"Uncle Mat made the box to carry her in,\" Susan read as she pointed to the doll's carrying case. \"He never could think of the word portmanteau. He called it her satchel when he brought it over for her.\"\n\"Abigail:\" I'll cover and sew on the handle.\n\n\"It's all so very lovely,\" Susan whispered. You take good care of her, and she will last all of your life. Then your little girl can have her to play with, for she's well sewn. Grandmother proudly exclaimed, \"Now I must go and help your mother sort out the bedding. There's lots of work getting ready to move.\" She sighed as she hurried out of the door, leaving Susan alone with her doll.\n\nThe warm Kentucky sunshine poured in through the open door on Susan as she sat on her little stool with Abigail in her arms. Soon, she took off Abigail's sunbonnet, and one sunbeam fell on the doll's face, lighting up her blue eyes.\n\n\"Oh, Abigail, I've always wanted a real doll! I love you so much, and I'll take good care of you always,\" Susan whispered. \"I'm glad you can go on...\"\nFather, Mother, big brother David, and brother James helped Susan Calvin prepare for a journey to our new home in Brown County, Indiana. We'll have lots of fun, won't we? Father and Mother had talked about leaving their old home in Kentucky and moving north to the new state of Indiana all winter long. Land was cheap there and very rich, so Mr. Calvin had been told by hunters and trappers who passed through the new territory. David and James would soon want farms of their own. Uncle Sam had moved his family to that part of Indiana many years earlier.\n\nUncle Sam had moved his family to Brown County, Indiana, many years earlier.\nIndiana, known as the New Purchase after the Treaty of St. Mary's had been signed with the Indians. According to this treaty, the Indians gave up all claim to the territory for a sum of money. The United States government opened it to settlers, and Uncle Sam had been one of the first to secure rich farm lands there for his new home. Though letters came seldom, Father knew Uncle Sam was well pleased with his new home. Susan thought of all this. Then she went to the shelf above the fireplace and took down a letter which was kept under the brass candlestick.\n\n\"I think, Abigail, I shall read you this letter,\" she said to her doll. \"Father has read it to Mother so often through the long winter evenings that I almost know it by heart. Then you'll know where we're going, and why.\"\n\nDear Brother Tom,\nThings are going well here in Brown County. Good crops and stock in fine shape. Why don't you come up next spring and join us? There are fine opportunities here. You can buy all the land you want - good bottom land, very rich soil - at two dollars an acre. I have a parcel of land in mind for you not far from us, up Bean Blossom way. Last year we boiled down a good bit of salt from Salt Creek and sold it for $8.00 a bushel in Bloomington. Jacob Nealy has just opened a tannery on Bean Blossom Creek and is doing well with it. There's a fellow here by the name of Richards who has us all worked up about panning for gold. I saw a phial filled with nuggets of gold and silver he told me he had panned in Lick Creek. I haven't been doing any panning myself, but I'm aiming to one of these days. Elijah Scarborough is building a new structure.\nflat boat and hopes to get to New Orleans with it in high water \u2014 from Salt Creek to the Driftwood River, to the Wabash into the Ohio, and then straight down the Mississippi. Tell Carrie the hills are real pretty. There's talk of starting a school in Jacksonburg next fall. Abigail has arrived. There's a Baptist Church here now. Good healthy climate it is \u2014 almost no 'agur' this year. We'll make room for you in our cabin while you're building yours. Better decide to come, Tom, you won't regret it. Tell Susan her Cousin Samantha wants to see her.\n\nYour brother,\nSam\n\nSusan paused. She put the letter back in its place under the brass candlestick, and she and Abigail sat together, very quietly. Then she continued to the doll, \u201cAbout Christmas time we decided to go, and now Grandmother and Grandfather have come to help us get started.\nFather and boys have gathered farm things to pack into the wagon. They are supposed to finish packing in the morning. I have told you all about our plans, except for this. Let's go outside now to see something of Kentucky before you travel.\n\nII. Planning the Journey\n\n\"Mother, see the new doll Grandmother made for me!\" Susan exclaimed a few minutes later as she ran to where Mother was hanging up Tim's freshly washed clothes.\n\n\"Let me see her, Susan. Grandmother told me about her, and I am anxious to see what she's like,\" Mother said, drying her hands and taking the doll.\n\n\"Isn't her hair pretty! I do believe you can braid it,\" Susan added.\nAnd what a good size she has! You've noticed that her dress buttons and buttons come undone? I never knew anyone who could make as beautiful buttonholes as Grandmother. She has real little leather shoes that tie. Do you remember what a dreadful time you had learning to untie your shoes without making hard knots?\n\nGrandmother came toward them, and Mother turned to her as she said, \"Rachel has certainly made a good face. Do you know she really looks a bit like Susan, doesn't she? She looks as though she could almost talk. You've dressed her just like Susan, with pantalets, a sunbonnet, and a slate on her arm. What a lot of work you put on her. Mother! It will make the journey a much happier one for Susan when she has this doll to play with,\" said Mother with a smile. She handed Abigail to Susan.\nAnd continued hanging up the rest of the clothes.\n\"Don't call her 'the doll', Mother,\" said Susan.\n\"She's Abigail. I've named her after Grandmother.\"\n\"All right, Susan, I think Abigail is a beautiful name. I wanted to name you Abigail, too, but your father wanted to call you Susan after his mother.\"\n\"Where are your father and Tom, Carrie?\" asked Grandmother. Mother's name was Caroline, but Grandmother had always called her Carrie since Susan could remember.\n\"They've taken the boys and gone into the woods to cut saplings for the wagon top,\" answered Mother, hanging the last stocking on the line.\n\"Well, while we three women are here alone, isn't it a good time for us to go back to the cabin to gather together what you will want to take with you?\" asked Grandmother.\nFeeling quite grown-up to be included as the third woman.\nwoman said, \"We can't travel without eating. We will need the kettles, pan, and dishes too.\" Grandmother and Mother exchanged approving glances at Susan's practical suggestion.\n\n\"Tom and I have made a list of nearly everything we can take,\" Mother said. \"And we sold a good many things along with the farm. Isn't it fine, Mother, we will have enough money to buy quite a piece of land in Indiana, and still have enough left to get a good start there.\"\n\n\"Yes, I'm mighty glad for you, Carrie. Has the man who bought your farm paid the money yet?\" asked Grandmother anxiously.\n\n\"He gave Tom a hundred dollars last week,\" Carrie replied. \"Planning the Journey has promised he will pay seventy-five dollars when he sells the stock in the fall. Then he will pay the other seventy-five dollars next year.\"\nSusan spoke of taking all the kettles, pans, and dishes. I'll put them all in this tater basket so you will have them in one place on the trip. We can put the food in one end of the basket, and the kettle, frying pan, and dishes in the other end.\n\nThe tater basket was a big willow basket, and Susan could never remember the time when it hadn't stood in the lean-to. She was glad it could go with them to Indiana.\n\nGrandmother hummed a little song as she bustled about, gathering up the different things. She was happy to know that Carrie was going to a larger farm and richer land. Next year we would be there too, for we had already promised that we would come to them in another year.\n\n\"I'll put only the things we will need on the journey in that basket,\" said Mother, \"and we can put the extra supplies in the wagon.\"\nIt: under the wagon seat where we can reach it. Susan, put in the two brass kettles, the frying pan, the tin cups, the mush bowls \u2013 we\u2019ll eat out of them, Abigail I guess, and the knives, forks, and wooden spoons. We will pack the big iron kettle, the pewter plates, the candle molds, the chopping bowl, and all our best things in a box.\n\n\"May I take my pewter mug, the one you used when you were a little girl, Mother?\" interrupted Susan.\n\n\"Yes, of course! The boys will be driving the cows north too, and you can drink your milk from it just as you always do. But we aren't going to be able to take all of our furniture. Tom says there won't be room in the wagon. We will have to take the bureau, and I must take the chest Father made for me before I was married, and \u2013 would you take the cradle, Mother?\"\n\"Yes, I would keep the rocking chair for your grandchildren; squeeze it in some place. Mother, you must take your rocking chair. It wouldn't seem like home unless you sat mending and rocking in front of the fire. I want to rock Abigail in it sometimes, too. Susan, when we come up next year, I'll get Father to make you a little hickory rocking chair for Abigail. Abigail, be sure to take your cherry candle stand; your Father made that down in Virginia, and it is the most beautiful thing you have. Yes, and the hickory chairs, and Susan's stool. Oh, there's the baby crying. Will you and Susan look over the garden seeds? Be sure to get all of them.\"\nI haven't my spectacles here, Susan; you read me the names of the seeds your mother has on this list and I will put them in the seed basket. Susan read slowly, for Mother's writing was hard to read: \"Beans, cabbage, sweet corn, beets, onions, carrots, turnips, tobacco.\" Wait a minute, I can't find the tobacco seed. There must be more seeds somewhere! Look on the top cupboard shelf, Susan, I believe I saw some there the other day. Susan brought a chair, climbed up, and by standing on her tiptoes was able to reach the top shelf. \"Yes, here are more seeds in this jar; will you take them so I won't spill them?\" \"Yes, this is the tobacco seed,\" nodded Grandmother. \"Now go on reading the list.\" Abigail\n\n\u2022 Sorghum, popcorn, sunflower, hollyhock, bleeding heart, petunia, cockscomb, mignonette.\n\"aren't we going to take any wheat or barley, or taters, or cattle, com?\" asked Susan.\n\"I'm sure your Father and the boys will take care of all those. I remember seeing a sack of com and clover seed in the barn this morning, and a basket of sweet taters, too.\"\n\"I hope Mother takes the clock. I like to sit by the fire at night and make up stories about the picture on the face of the clock of the little girl and boy going up the road to a white church.\"\n\"You must remember, Susan, that you can't get everything you want into one covered wagon! It won't hold much. Your father and mother will only be able to take the most necessary things. But I do think your mother should take her clock. You can't buy a Seth Thomas clock every day, and that one keeps good time.\"\n\nAll through that spring afternoon Susan and Grandmother worked together, even while Mother was packing.\nGrandfather, Father, David, and James found Susan and her siblings still working on supper when Mother called them in. Planning the journey, Grandfather asked Tom, \"How are you planning your trip?\" Susan drew her stool close to Grandmother, who finished the knitting of a pair of socks for Father. Susan watched the needles flash back and forth in the firelight, admiring Grandmother's speed and skill. Despite her ability to knit socks herself, Susan knit slowly and carefully, unlike Grandmother who never looked at her knitting while turning the heels and toes. Without looking up from the harness he was mending, Grandfather inquired, \"Tom, how are you planning your trip?\"\n\"Father replied, 'It will take five days of good hard driving to get as far north as the Ohio River, and about a week longer to drive from there to Brown County. Sam writes that the last forty miles are bad roads, and we'll have to drive mighty slow. It's hilly when you get near Jacksonburg. James will ride Dan, and David will drive the cows. Enoch Wetzel just finished two fine yokes for the oxen.'\n\nGrandfather, 'I've never seen finer oxen than yours.'\n\n'That's about right! There are none better in all of Kentucky. They'll get us there safe and sound.'\n\n'David, are you going to leave Steve with me?' questioned Grandfather as he winked at Father. The family all knew that David wouldn't go a foot without his faithful hunting dog, Steve.\n\n'Not by a jug full, I'm not,' laughed David.\"\n\"He'll make the trip all right, won't you, old dog?\" asked David, patting the dog's head. Steve seemed to understand and wagged his tail agreeably.\n\n\"How about chickens? Are you going to take any?\" asked James.\n\n\"Oh, yes, you must take enough to start a new flock. Have you cooked any to eat on the way, Carrie?\" asked Grandmother.\n\n\"Yes, I've roasted four; and Rachel brought over a black walnut cake for us to eat on our first Sunday. With what game the men will kill, salt pork, and the com cakes I'll stir up, we'll get along beautifully,\" Mother replied.\n\n\"It will travel all right, won't it, Grandfather?\" questioned Father.\n\n\"Sure enough! Sure enough!\" was the answer. \"I brought a coop full from Virginia with us that way, when we came up.\"\n\"Father: I think we have everything ready to load. Scythe, grind stone, shovel, spade, pickax, crowbar, hoe, rake, crane, axes, broadax, plough. Did I leave anything out? Grandfather: Don't forget your carpenter tools, you'll need them. Father: That's right! It's funny how you forget things. Mother: Did you look at the sky tonight, Father? We couldn't pack the wagon in the rain. Oh, I do hope we have a good day to start. Susan Calvin! Mother: It's long past your bedtime, and tomorrow will be such a busy day. Hurry to bed. Grandmother: Carrie, this is the last night I'll have the child with me. Let me tell her just one little story. Come, Susan, climb up in my lap and I'll tell you a story about a lazy boy who grew into a strong man.\"\nI'm going to tell you tonight about a man whom all Virginians are proud to call their own \u2013 Patrick Henry. He was one of my father's closest friends, and he often came to our home to spend the night. I've heard my father tell of what a lazy boy Patrick was. He wouldn't work at anything! He wouldn't study, and he didn't seem to learn much of anything at school. He loved to play on his flute and his fiddle, and to gather a group of people around him at Hanover Court House and tell them funny stories.\nHis father believed that if he had his own business, he might then start working, so he started him and his older brother into business. But this had no effect on Patrick, and soon the business failed. Then Patrick went to farming and failed. He went back to store keeping and failed. People felt sorry for Patrick's father, but Patrick himself didn't seem to worry. He had a good time playing for dances and telling his amusing stories.\n\nFor some reason, my father never knew why, Patrick Henry decided to study law. Perhaps he could work with his mind better than with his hands. He began to read law books; he read diligently for six weeks, and to everyone's surprise, he passed the examination and was admitted to the bar.\n\nClients began to come to him. He was pleasant and jolly, and people liked him. Most importantly, he was a skilled lawyer.\nPatrick liked law work and kept at it. Friends were surprised when he offered to take a case for some Virginians against the parsons. \"You know, Susan, tobacco is a chief crop of Virginia. Sometimes tobacco would be worth a great deal of money, and then the parsons would feel well paid. Other times tobacco wouldn't be worth much, so the parsons wouldn't get much pay. ''Finally they asked to be paid only in money, and a law was passed which made it necessary for the people to pay the parsons in money. Then a queer thing happened \u2014 tobacco went up in value \u2014 and the parsons were cross because they were paid in money; if payment had been made with tobacco. \"\n\nGrandmother's Story\nYou know, Susan, tobacco is a chief crop of Virginia. Sometimes tobacco would be worth a great deal of money, and then the parsons would feel well paid. Other times tobacco wouldn't be worth much, so the parsons wouldn't get much pay. The parsons eventually asked to be paid only in money, and a law was passed requiring the people to pay them in money. However, an unusual occurrence took place \u2014 tobacco prices rose \u2014 and the parsons were displeased because they were paid in money; had the payment been made with tobacco.\nThey would have had three times as much money. So one of the parsons brought a suit to get more money. King George heard of this, inquired about the law, and said it was not right. The citizens who felt the law was right then asked Patrick Henry to speak for them.\n\nMy father was one of the men who asked Patrick Henry to defend them. He often told us how frightened he felt when Patrick stood up to talk. He said he never felt so sorry for any man! Patrick couldn't seem to talk; he stumbled and halted in a dreadful fashion.\n\nThen suddenly he changed. He stood up very straight; his manner became dignified; his voice grew strong; his eyes flashed. Father said his words rushed forth like a mighty torrent. Such eloquence had never before been heard in the Virginia colony. His courage astounded his hearers, for he told the colonists not to give in to the tyranny of the British monarch. Instead, they should stand up for their rights and fight for their freedom.\nKing George had no right to declare that laws passed by the Virginia legislature were unjust. Thus, he questioned the right of the King \u2013 a thing never done before.\n\n\"And what do you think, Susan! The jury decided that the colonists were right. Patrick Henry had won his case, which was called the \u2018Parson\u2019s Cause.\u2019\n\n\"From then on, success came rapidly to Patrick. He had found what he liked to do. In two years, he was a member of the legislature. My father said that Patrick Henry's words were the first words of the American Revolution. No man ever felt the same after he had heard them. We didn't have war for ten years, but this was the first time the colonies had differed from the mother country.\n\n\"With all Patrick's careless habits, he was a man of high honor and integrity. He began to improve his public speaking skills and was soon a prominent figure in Virginia politics.\nHis manners and way of talking changed, and he became a new man - one of culture, learning, and extraordinary powers of oratory. He was often called 'the silver-tongued orator.' He was sent to Philadelphia as a member of the First Continental Congress. Father also heard him speak before the House of Burgesses. He said he had never heard such a burst of eloquence. Patrick Henry spoke of the tyranny of the King and declared there was nothing to do but fight! Father said, \"People will always remember that speech - it will go down in American history - never to be forgotten.\" Some day, Susan, you will learn all of that speech by heart. He closed by saying, \"I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death.\"\nI. Patrick Henry's Thoughts and Oratory\n\nPatrick Henry was a remarkable figure in Virginia and American history. His eloquence and persuasive abilities earned him the governorship of Virginia. Remember, Susan, the remarkable Virginian and great American, Patrick Henry.\n\n\"Now off to bed, Susan!\"\n\nWith Abigail in her arms, Susan slipped from Grandmother's lap. \"What a lovely story,\" she whispered to Abigail. \"I'll remember it and tell it to you again and again, so you won't forget it either!\"\n\nShe kissed Grandmother and Grandfather and called goodnight to the others. Mother handed her a lit candle, and off she went with Abigail to the back room. She pulled out her trundle bed from under Mother's large bed. Upon lifting the pillow to get her nightgown and nightcap, she found a second, smaller set lying underneath. Pinned to them was:\n\"For Abigail, here are your nightgown and nightcap. 'Oh, Abigail, here are your own nightgown and nightcap,' explained Susan to Abigail. 'As soon as we put them on, you can sleep here with me in my bed. Isn't that fun? You're very warm and soft \u2014 not like the wooden doll Uncle Mat carved for me!' In a few moments, Susan blew out the candle. There was a deep stillness in the room for several moments as she knelt by the side of her trundle bed. Then she climbed in, and pulled the patchwork quilt up closely about them both, saying softly to the doll, 'I've just said my prayers, Abigail. Grandmother's Story taught us this when I was a very small girl, almost as soon as I could talk. I don't believe the...' (Text incomplete)\"\nI. prayers I would teach you are my favorite poem. Grandmother taught it to me, and she thought it was as lovely as a prayer of thanksgiving.\n\nWe thank Thee,\nFor flowers that bloom about our feet;\nFor tender grass so fresh, so sweet;\nFor song of bird, and hum of bee;\nFor all things fair we hear or see;\nFather in heaven, we thank Thee!\nFor blue of stream and blue of sky;\nFor pleasant shades of branches high;\nFor fragrant air and cooling breeze;\nFor beauty of the blooming trees;\nFather in heaven, we thank Thee!\n\nWhen Susan went to sleep, Abigail was close in her arms, and Abigail's portmanteau, tightly shut, was on the floor close beside the trundle bed.\n\nIV. Off for Indiana\n\nMother's hope was fulfilled. The next morning.\nIt was a bright and clear day, perfect for starting the journey.\n\n\"Up, everybody!\" called Father. \"Get up, lazy bones. Today we leave for Brown County. Everybody up!\"\n\nSusan hopped out of bed and looked out of the window as she was dressing, so as to watch the men bending and fitting the long bows over the top of the wagon.\n\nOff for Indiana\n\nGreat high hoops they seemed to be, which made a framework over which the large white canvas would soon be stretched. Grandfather's careful work in cutting and shaping the bows, and his painstaking efforts of the past few days, resulted in each hoop bending and fitting into place without difficulty.\n\n\"There, now, that's good and firm, and will hold,\" she heard Grandfather say proudly, as he slipped the last bow in place. Next, the canvas was thrown over the bows, stretched tightly, and tied down securely.\n\"When your Grandfather and I brought up that canvas from Virginia years ago, we never supposed our little Caroline would use it to go to Indiana,\" said Grandfather to Susan and Abigail, who had run out and stood beside him. \"It's as fine and heavy a piece as I ever saw; no water can get through that.\"\n\nGrandfather stepped back and proudly surveyed his work. Instead of the old wagon that Susan had seen so often, there stood a real covered wagon, just the kind she had seen some of their old friends start away in.\n\n\"Let me pull up the cord in front,\" pleaded Susan, running up to the wagon. Tall, slender David swung her up in his strong arms and showed her how to draw the heavy cord so as to gather the canvas across the front end of the wagon. When the canvas was in place, he tied the cord for her in a hard knot.\n\"You see, Susan, we make the first bow stick over the seat to keep out the sun and rain,\" David explained. Then Susan realized that it was really a roof over the wagon seat. \"It looks mighty fine now, doesn't it?\" James asked, who had been working inside the wagon. Almost as tall as David, perhaps even more tanned, he managed to make a good time for Susan in all he did. \"Climb over the seat, Susan, and see the inside of your house where you will live for two weeks,\" James said. \"It makes a fine little cabin, doesn't it?\" Susan exclaimed, jumping up and down with delight, when James had set her safely down. \"Get down now, Susan,\" Father ordered. \"We've got to load. Come on, boys. Dave, you take one end of this chest and I'll take the other. After we get it in the wagon, you shove it back in place, James.\" \"Father, we'll have to take out the drawers.\"\nMother had packed them so full we cannot lift the chest with them in, answered David. Off for Indiana. With the three men pushing and lifting, up into the wagon went the bureau. David and James quickly put the drawers back in place. Next came the chairs, and next, Tim's cradle. As she watched, Susan realized that Father was finding room for everything\u2014all garden tools, and even the basket of seeds. The feather beds were piled in last to make a comfortable seat for Susan and Abigail.\n\n\"Come, everybody,\" called Mother, \"and we'll have our last breakfast at the old house. Then we'll hitch the oxen and start.\"\n\nThe cabin seemed queer with no furniture in it, and no place to sit, so they decided to eat in front of the cabin in the early spring sunshine.\n\nGrandfather looked around at the family with their steaming bowls of food in their hands. Mother with hers.\nThe baby Tim sat on the cabin step with his mother. Father, tall and slender with a heavy beard turning gray, stood near her. Grandmother helped Susan, the happy ten-year-old, to a second bowl of mush. David and James, tall and tanned, sat cross-legged on the grass. Steve wasn't far away. Abigail leaned against a tree with her sunbonnet in her lap. Grandfather looked at the group and cleared his throat. \"Folks,\" he said solemnly, \"you are starting on a long journey. It is good to ask the Lord's blessing on you.\"\n\nLowering his voice, he continued, \"Lord, these, my folks, are leaving us to take a hard journey. They need strength. Give it to them. They need health. Give it to them. Keep them good men and women. Keep them honest, and make them good neighbors. Lord, keep them with you, and they will help to make this world a better place.\"\nMake the new land a good land. Amen.\n\nFor several moments not a word was spoken. Father and Mother, Grandfather and Grandmother looked very serious as they gazed off across the hills of Kentucky. The older boys squared their shoulders, and Susan herself felt the importance of leaving an old home and going to a new one as she had not felt it before.\n\nSoon the simple breakfast was eaten, the dishes washed and packed away under the seat, and they were ready to leave. \"If you are ready, Carrie,\" called Grandfather, \"you can all drive by way of our place, and we'll take Susan with us in the buggy.\"\n\n\"You won't have a buggy to ride in up in Brown County, Susan,\" said Grandmother, as Grandfather lifted her up to the seat between them and handed her Abigail with her portmanteau.\n\nThe winding road led down one hill and up another.\nNever had the trees looked prettier than they did this early morning in the spring sunshine. \"I'm very glad Abigail will have such a pretty picture of Kentucky to remember,\" said Susan seriously as she took deep breaths of the soft, spring air. Soon they reached Grandfather's and Grandmother's home, for it was only a mile away. Aunt Rachel and Uncle Mat sat on the porch waiting for them, as they had driven over to say good-bye.\n\n\"Oh, Aunt Rachel, thank you for making Abigail such a sweet face,\" cried Susan, rushing up to her favorite aunt the moment Uncle Mat had lifted her down from the buggy.\n\n\"I tried to make her look like you,\" laughed Aunt Rachel as she patted Susan's rosy cheek. Then they both turned to wave to Father and Mother, who were sitting on the high seat of the covered wagon just turning into the yard.\n\"All too soon, greetings changed to goodbyes, as Father finally called, \"Come, come, we must get started!\"\"\n\nAbigail\n\"Good-by, Grandmother, you\u2019ll surely join us next spring, won't you?\" asked Mother, hugging Grandmother close. \"We'll be looking for you too, Rachel and Mat,\" she added, kissing them, and climbing up on the seat.\n\n\"Yes, we\u2019ll be coming up soon,\" answered Grandmother as she kissed baby Tim good-by and lifted him up to his mother. \"Come, Susan, you're next!\"\n\n\"Oh, Grandmother and Grandfather, I can't leave you! I can't!\" said Susan, bursting into tears and flinging her arms around Grandmother's neck.\n\n\"Please let me stay here with you, please. I\u2019ll be ever so good. I don't want to go to that new place, truly I don't.\"\n\n\"There now, Susan child, this is no way for a pioneer girl to act. I\u2019m ashamed of you, I am,\" said Grandmother.\nGrandmother: \"It isn't as though you are going way off by yourself - you're going with the family, aren't you? Don't let your mother see you cry! And what will Abigail think!?\"\n\nSusan was so busy wiping her eyes and blowing her nose that she didn't notice the tears in Grandmother's eyes or Grandfather blowing his nose on the other side of the wagon. Mother sat silently crying in the front seat. Going away wasn't fun after all! How could she have ever thought it would be? But when Grandfather lifted her up onto the feather bed in the back of the wagon, she managed a little smile through her tears.\n\n\"My brave girl,\" said he, giving her a hug as he settled her comfortably beside Abigail on the blanket Mother had laid over the feather bed.\n\n\"Now you, James, keep an eye on your little sister.\"\nTer, cautioned Grandfather as James came striding up, a long switch in his hand.\n\"Sure, I'll watch her all right,\" he said gaily.\nUncle Mat and Aunt Rachel kissed Susan, and they shook hands with Abigail, wishing her a pleasant journey. Soon all were in their places. Dave, with Steve close beside him, was riding Dan, the horse, ready to help James with the cows whenever he was needed. Mother was sitting on the front seat holding Tim. Father stood by the oxen with his long whip in his hand.\n\"Geddan,\" shouted Father in a sharp, ringing voice as he cracked his whip over the oxen. The covered wagon began to move, and they were off on their long journey.\n\nAbigail:\n\"Good-bye, good-bye,\" each called to the other above the creaking of the wagon wheels. Susan waved her handkerchief as long as she could see Grandmother standing before the cabin door, waving.\n\"Oh, Abigail, I'm glad you're here with me,\" whispered Susan as she settled herself on the feather bed, ready for a good long cry. She imagined it was Grandmother's loving encouragement ringing in her ears, but she was sure she heard Abigail say, \"Susie, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you were a brave girl, and I've been proud to belong to you. But I'm beginning to believe you're just a baby. You'll make me cry in a minute, and I haven't anything to cry about! I'm with you, and you are the only person I love. Stop crying and behave yourself. This is a great adventure for me, Susan, for I've never gone traveling and you'll have to explain many things to me.\"\n\n\"I suppose you are right,\" Susan heard herself say as she settled deeper in the feather bed and straightened Abigail's bonnet. \"But I'm very sorry.\"\nLeave Grandfather and Grandmother. Off to Indiana. Father drove the yoke of oxen drawing the covered wagon down the hill and followed the winding road to the little village Susan knew so well. It was fun to wave goodbye to their different friends who gathered outside the cabin doors as they passed.\n\n\"Good luck to you! Hope you like the new country,\" called Hiram Green.\n\n\"Good luck!\" called Andy Taggart.\n\n\"Send us back word if the new land is better than ours,\" shouted Enoch Wetzel.\n\n\"Mayhap we'll be moving up next spring,\" called Joshua Prentiss.\n\nEach family had some greeting for them as they passed. Susan called and waved in return to everyone as they went along. When they passed the Kennedy cabin, Susan's best friend, Nancy Kennedy, ran out and tossed a package in the wagon as she said goodbye.\n\n\"Oh! Thank you, thank you!\" called Susan.\nWhen she picked up the package to open it, she saw printed on the outside the words: Do not open this until the day after you reach your new home.\n\n\"My!\" thought Susan. \"I can have such fun guessing what is in it. It seems to be round and fairly large. It's not very soft and not very hard. Maybe it's a ball, or perhaps a pin cushion.\" Susan felt of it again carefully. Then she exclaimed, \"I think it's a basket, for Nancy makes the loveliest willow baskets! I believe this one has a handle. Wasn't that sweet of her. Oh, Abigail, you will like my friends,\" she said, turning to the doll. \"My friends are very nice. I almost forgot! I won't have any friends up in Indiana! What will I do?\" said Susan, partly to herself and partly to Abigail.\n\nWithout waiting for an answer, she continued,\n\"But there are little girls everywhere, aren't there, Abigail? I guess most of them are nice, too, if you're nice to them. I'll have good friends in Indiana if I had good friends in Kentucky, won't I? The wagon lurched as the road turned sharply, and Abigail in her sunbonnet seemed to nod her head emphatically in complete agreement.\n\nThe morning passed uneventfully. Occasionally Susan called to James, who was driving the cows back of the wagon. James was never too busy to call some funny thing to Susan to make her laugh, so she was really surprised when the wagon stopped, and Mother and Father came over to her.\n\n\"Well, how's the morning gone, Susan?\" asked Mother, lifting the baby up on the feather bed and lifting Susan down.\n\nAbigail and I have had a nice time. You see, there are many things she doesn't know,\".\n\"Can you explain everything, Father?\" asked Susan.\n\"Well, almost! But not quite everything, Father,\" answered Susan.\n\"James, how's your walking?\" asked Father, as James came up, driving the cows.\n\"Not so bad, but they're awful slow,\" was James' answer.\n\"Do I ride Dan this afternoon, and let Dave drive the cows?\"\nFather nodded his head. At that moment, Dave, who had ridden on ahead, trotted up on Dan to rejoin the family.\n\"Hey, Dave, you've got to drive these beasts this afternoon. I've walked enough for a while,\" called James.\n\"All right!\" agreed Dave pleasantly, \"but how about some food? I'm starved!\"\n\"You boys gather some wood and build a fire,\" said Father.\n\"Susan, bring the basket with the tin cups in it from under the seat,\" called Mother.\nAs Susan climbed into the wagon, she called to the others, \"The First Stop.\"\nAbigail: \"I'll take you out of this stuffy wagon and show you a beautiful spot, but I have to get the meal started first.\" She ran off with the basket where the tin cups jingled gaily.\n\nFather: \"Look out, boys, not too big a fire!\" He cautioned as he looked back from unyoking the oxen.\n\nFather: \"Mother, this yoke is fine. We've been traveling for at least nine miles, and there isn't a chafing mark on the animals.\"\n\nMother: \"I think an ox yoke is the most clumsy looking thing I've ever seen. At this rate, we ought to be there in a week, don't you think, Tom?\"\n\nTom: \"Oh, we won't have good roads like this all the way.\" Father: \"Drive the cattle down to the creek for a good drink.\"\n\nWith the places set and the food unpacked, Susan ran back to the wagon, picked up Abigail, and brought her over to the fire where they could both enjoy it.\nWatch Mother preparing the meal. Potatoes with their jackets on were boiling in the big black kettle over the fire, and a pot of coffee was steaming at one side.\n\nFather said, \"Dave, give the oxen and horses their grain, and then we'll wash up for dinner,\" as Mother came back from the wagon with Tim in her arms. Laying him on a blanket under a tree, she took Susan's hand and they walked down to the spring.\n\n\"Isn't it fun traveling in a covered wagon and eating outdoors, Mother? I just love it, especially now that I have Abigail to share things with me.\" And Susan talked on, telling her mother of her plans for Abigail. \"She needs a cloak or a plaid shawl. I'm surprised Grandmother let her start on such a long journey without one.\"\n\nMother smiled queerly.\nShe spoke of a coat, and the next day Susan understood what that queer smile meant.\n\"Here is Grandmother\u2019s lunch basket. Let's see what's in it,\" said Father, bringing from under the seat of the wagon a large green willow basket. \"I smell fried chicken,\" he said, as he untied the cloth that covered the basket top.\nFather picked up a large piece of paper from the top of the basket and read aloud in an amused voice, \"Eat only what you find on the top layer today.\"\n\"Well, what if that isn't enough?\" asked David.\n\"The First Stop,\"\n\"Oh, let me see what Grandmother made for us!\" exclaimed Mother eagerly. Mother had never outgrown her love of surprises, and Grandmother had kept the contents of the basket a complete surprise.\n\"Oh, Susan, did you ever see such beautiful fried chicken! Grandmother must have gotten up before dawn to make it.\"\n\"daylight to get it fried,\" said Mother, joyfully holding up a tin plate heaped high with golden brown pieces. \"And here's a jar of her pickled onions - Father's favorite! Here's a dried apple pie. What's this?\" She picked up a package. Across the top was written in Grandmother's fine writing: For Carrie from Grandmother, for her new home. Opening the package, she found one of Grandmother's rare old treasures - a lovely milk glass plate. \"How good of Grandmother! She knows how much I have always admired that plate,\" said Mother, her eyes filling with tears as she thought of her mother's generosity. \"Come to the feast, boys,\" briskly called Father. How they all did enjoy their food, and how they laughed at baby Tim putting his toes in his mouth instead of the chicken bone Mother gave him. When the meal was finished, the dishes were cleared. Abigail.\nSusan and Abigail found themselves comfortably settled on the feather bed in the covered wagon. The oxen moved slowly down the winding Kentucky road. The ground was dry and firm, and the wagon wheels rolled easily in the well-packed ruts. The covered wagon swayed to the slow plodding gait of the oxen, and in a few moments, Susan fell asleep.\n\nLate in the afternoon, Susan was awakened by Mother's voice calling, \"Wake up! Wake up! We're stopping for supper and to make camp. What a sleepyhead you are. Riding in a wagon makes you sleep a long time, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"Where am I?\" Susan asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.\n\n\"You are in a covered wagon, somewhere in northern Kentucky, on your way to the hills of Brown County in Indiana,\" Mother laughed. \"Come and watch baby Tim while I walk around to limber up.\"\nI'm very stiff from sitting so long. Susan climbed down out of the wagon as Mother lay the baby on the blanket on the ground and began walking briskly.\n\nThe First Stop\n\n\"Where's Dave?\" called Father. Everybody looked back down the road, but no Dave and no cows were in sight.\n\n\"I hope nothing has happened to him,\" said Mother anxiously.\n\n\"It's a slow job driving those cows along,\" said James, riding up. \"They're probably slower this afternoon because they are all tuckered out. If he doesn't come along soon, I'll ride back.\"\n\n\"I'll go back now and let him ride Dan in,\" said Father, jumping on Dan's back and galloping away.\n\nThey all lay down on the blanket under the trees to rest and to watch baby Tim, who was cooing and gurgling softly.\n\n\"Tim seems to like traveling in a covered wagon, doesn't he, Mother?\" asked Susan. \"Isn't it lucky he enjoys it?\"\n\"Is he a good baby? It would be too bad if he were like the Taggert baby who cried all the time,\" Mother asked.\n\nDavid soon appeared on Dan. \"What happened, Dave?\" James shouted.\n\n\"I'm fine! But those tamal cows keep wanting to stop and eat all the time. It's a hassle keeping them moving,\" David exclaimed.\n\n\"Be gentle, gentle,\" Mother soothed quietly.\n\n\"You wouldn't be gentle if you had to drive them. I can hear myself saying much worse things about them by tomorrow evening,\" David admitted.\n\nAt that moment, Father arrived with the cattle. \"That's a tiresome job. I think I'll have to drive the cows each afternoon and have the boys take turns mornings. Drive the animals down\"\nTo the spring, boys, and bring back a bucket of water. This is rather wild country and there should be good game about. James, I suppose you are too tired to go hunting, aren't you?\", queried Father with a jovial smile.\n\nThe weary James immediately changed to an eager, lively boy as he grinned and said, \"Come on and get the guns! Let's go! We might see a turkey. If we do, that would be the end of Mr. Gobbler!\"\n\nAs soon as the cattle were watered and grazing, the three men left with their guns to look for game. They followed a winding footpath that was soon lost in the very dense woods.\n\nHalfway across the clearing, David turned and ran back. \"Here's a gun, Mother. Father said it would be safer for you to have one with you in this unsettled, wooded country. I'll lean it here against the tree for you. But remember! It's loaded.\"\nWith a cheery smile, he was gone.\n\"Why, Mother, can you shoot a gun?\" asked Susan, surprised.\n\"Not very well, Susan. I have done it, of course, but not often. I suppose I could, though,\" she added, more to herself than to Susan.\n\nThe Bear\n\nThe sun was setting and the tall trees cast heavy shadows across the grass. The spring and the brook which led from it made strange noises as the water bubbled up and rushed against the banks. The wind rustled through the trees, and deep in the woods a whippoorwill called. Susan watched a squirrel scurry to its nest hidden among the leaves of the tallest tree near the clearing.\n\nUnconsciously, Mother and Susan were talking in low tones. Tim was asleep, and Abigail sat not far away, leaning against a tree.\n\nSuddenly, Susan heard a rustling in the bushes.\nThe edge of the clearing behind Mother. A sharp plop, like the sound of a breaking log, split the stillness. Susan glanced over in that direction, expecting to see Steve run toward them. But her little figure grew tense, her face frightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Then she pointed a shaking hand beyond Mother's shoulder and whispered, \"Mother, it's a bear!\"\n\n\"Oh, it can't be, Susan, don't be imagining things!\" Mother calmly answered before she turned about to look in the direction Susan pointed.\n\nThen she glanced over her shoulder. There was a huge black bear, standing perfectly still with his head on one side, looking at them. Mother felt herself grow rigid with fear. In the deep silence, she could hear her own heart beat. The thought that Father and the boys were far in the woods, that the bear had not yet noticed them, gave her some small comfort.\nwas coming closer, and here were Susan and Tim to be taken care of. But she calmly said, \"Sit perfectly still, Susan. Don't move an inch. I'll shoot him.\"\n\nAbigail\n\"How can Mother be so calm?\" Susan thought, but as she watched, she saw how her mother's hands were shaking.\n\n\"What can I do to help?\" the little girl wondered. Then she remembered the old song Grandmother often sang whenever anything seemed very, very serious \u2014 \"Take It to the Lord in Prayer.\" Susan shut her eyes quickly. \"Oh, dear Jesus,\" she whispered, \"don't let the bear eat us. Help Mother to kill him. Amen.\"\n\nSusan's eyes flew open. The bear was lumbering slowly across the clearing toward them. \"Why doesn't Mother shoot! Why is she so slow! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!\" thought Susan.\n\nSeconds seemed hours to Susan as she watched.\nMother reached for the gun, reaching so slowly that the bear did not seem to notice her movements. Mother braced it against the tree where it had been leaning. When the aim was true, and the gun was steady, Mother fired. The shot echoed and re-echoed. As the smoke cleared, Mother and Susan saw the bear lumbering away, back into the forest. In a moment, Father came running up. \"What is it? What is it?\" he shouted. \"Why did you shoot?\" \"A bear,\" excitedly answered Mother. She watched Mother reach for the gun.\n\nFather: \"Oh, no, it couldn't have been! You must have been frightened.\"\n\nDavid and James rushed up, David with a wild turkey slung over his shoulder and James with two squirrels on his belt.\n\nDavid: \"What's wrong? Who shot?\"\n\nFather: \"Mother thought she saw a bear \u2013 a great big black bear. I\"\nI wounded him when I shot. Take your gun and follow his trail behind that sycamore, Mother pointed to the big tree in front of which she had first seen the bear. Father looked serious and telling James to stay with Mother and Susan, he said, \"Come, Dave, we'll see if we can find him.\" Both men took their guns and hurried off into the woods.\n\n\"Mother, where's Abigail?\" asked Susan.\n\n\"Here she is, dear,\" said Mother, putting Abigail in Susan's arms. \"I really believe she fell over in fright when she saw the bear coming toward her.\"\n\n\"Or when she heard the gun,\" suggested James.\n\n\"Did you kill the bear, Mother?\" he continued. \"Tell me all about it.\"\n\nAbigail,\n\nI don't think I killed him, I'm pretty sure that I hit him though.\n\n\"Did you get scared, Susan?\" he asked his sister. \"Was the bear a big one?\"\n\"I guess you'd be scared to see a great big black bear coming toward you!\" answered Susan. \"James, the men will be hungry when they get back. Will you start a good fire, please?\" asked practical Mother. \"Susan, you -\"\n\nBang! Bang! The report of a gun sounded twice.\n\n\"They've got him! They've got him!\" shouted James, jumping up and down. \"Can't I go, Mother?\"\n\n\"Yes, run along, but leave a gun with me,\" was Mother's answer. \"I've shot one bear today. I could shoot another, I guess.\"\n\nBefore long they heard the voices of the men returning through the woods. As soon as they reached Mother, the three men took hold of her hands and formed a circle around her, singing:\n\nMother killed a bear,\nMother killed a bear,\nHeigh-o! the derry oh.\nMother killed a bear.\n\nThe Bear\n\nSusan laughed to see Father dancing and singing with the boys in such a funny way.\n\"You're a fine shot, Mother,'' said Father. \"You hit the bear near the heart. It ran only a few yards into the woods. Talk about beginner's luck! I couldn't have done better myself,'' and Father beamed with pride at his wife.\n\n\"Come and see your bear, Mother,'' cried David, swinging Susan up on his shoulder while James picked up Tim. Father took Mother's arm and led the procession back into the woods to the dead bear.\n\n\"Oh, let me down quick so I can see!'' cried Susan, as David pointed to a big, black object lying under a tree.\n\n\"Did I really kill that big thing?'' asked Mother doubtfully, as she gazed down at the bear. \"Why did you shoot again, if I killed it?''\n\n\"We found him howling with rage and pain, so Dave and I each took a shot to finish him,'' explained Father.\n\n\"I claim the skin for a rug for the hearth of our home.\"\n\"fireplace in our new cabin, Mother said. But, Susan, perhaps you should have it. I think you saved my life because you warned me. You saw the bear first. Abigail Well, it isn't quite that bad, Father smiled. If a bear is left alone, he doesn't often bother people. He probably smelled food, and came to get it. He might have attacked you, though, if you hadn't shot. Susan began to tell how she looked up and saw the bear. Mother began to tell how she was so frightened that she could hardly hold the gun. David began to tell how lucky it was that he ran back with the gun and left it leaning against a tree within Mother's reach. It seemed as though they would never tire of talking about the bear. In fact, the time Mother shot the bear proved to be a favorite topic of conversation for many years in the Calvin family.\"\nFather and David decided to stay and skin the bear. \"We will have to salt it and roll up the skin until we have time to stretch it for drying,\" said Father. \"Mother shall have her rug, and we'll take the choice parts of the meat with us.\"\n\nMother, James, and Susan went back to prepare supper.\n\n\"Put some potatoes in the ashes to bake, James,\" suggested Mother. \"We will have cold roast chicken, potatoes, milk \u2014 and a surprise! We can't have the surprise without the hoe. Susan, while I milk Butter' cup, you run over to the wagon and bring me the hoe. After you put the potatoes in to bake, James, take a bucket and bring some water from the spring.\"\n\nMother sat down to milk the cows as she finished speaking, and soon her pail was full of rich, foamy milk. She poured some of the water James brought into it.\nOne of the kettles hanging over the fire. When it began to boil, she stirred in some salt and corn meal. While she continued to stir it, she told James to take the handle off the hoe. Then she asked him to run back to Father to get some bear grease.\n\nTo Susan\u2019s surprise, she saw Mother clean off the hoe. When James returned, she greased it with bear grease, put the soft dough from the kettle on the hoe, and placed it near the fire. She answered the surprised expression on Susan\u2019s face by explaining, \u201cThis is going to be hoecake, but it will taste just like the johnnycake we used to make in Virginia. I know how to make it yet another way, too. Some day I\u2019ll wrap the dough up in cabbage leaves or in fresh corn husks and put it on the hearth and cover it with hot coals. Mother's Favorite Hymn\n\nWe call that ashcake. You can do lots of things when\n\n(Note: The text appears to be complete and does not require cleaning. However, if there are any errors in the text, they are likely due to OCR and not the original text.)\nYou have to. In the new country, we'll have to think of new ways to do a great many things, I imagine. Everyone was ready for bed as soon as the supper things were all washed and carefully put away. No matter how tired she was, Mother insisted on all the work being done and done well.\n\nDavid built a blazing fire near the rear of the wagon and ordered Steve to stand guard. After gathering wood for the night, the three men rolled up in their blankets and lay down between the fire and the wagon with their guns close beside them. Mother, Timothy, Susan, and Abigail were safe and comfortable on the feather beds inside the wagon. The wind blew in sharp gusts about the covered wagon, but the canvas top held firm. Strange noises of the night drifted across the clearing from the woods beyond. Susan lay wide awake with Abigail beside her.\nShe heard Mother sigh \u2014 as though her thoughts were far from happy ones. Then Susan heard Father say something to the boys in a low undertone. All was still \u2014 as though the whole woods stood silent to listen. Then Father's voice began to sing Mother's favorite hymn. David's ringing baritone took up the tune, and in a moment James joined the singing.\n\nAt the end of the first verse, Susan began to sing too, and before the third verse was finished, Mother found herself singing in the clear soprano all her children loved.\n\nAwake, my soul, stretch every nerve.\nAnd press with vigor on;\nA heavenly race demands thy seal.\nAnd an immortal crown.\nA cloud of witnesses around\nHolds thee in full survey;\nForget the steps already trodden,\nAnd onward urge thy way.\n'Tis God's almighty voice that calls thee from on high;\n'Tis His own hand presents the prize To thine aspiring eye. That prize with peerless glories bright Which shall new luster boast, When victors' wreaths and monarchs' gems Shall blend in common dust. Blest Savior, introduced by Thee, Have I my race begun; And, crowned with victory, at Thy feet I'll lay my honors down. Mother's Favorite Hymn Each one of the five verses rang clear and true through the Kentucky wilderness. But as the words of the last verse ended, the very wind seemed more friendly, its harsh gusts changing to a gentle, drowsy lullaby. In a few moments, the Calvins were asleep. The next morning, Mother handed Susan a package from Grandmother as she said, \"You see, Susan, Grandmother has another surprise for you.\" When Susan opened the package, she found a piece of cloth cut from an old plaid shawl which she had.\nSeen Grandmother wear many, many times. A sheet of paper was fastened to it with one of the largest pins Susan had ever seen. She read the paper: Dear Susan, Use this big pin to ravel out the cloth around each edge to make a fringe for a shawl for Abigail.\n\nTo Susan's surprise, under the package which contained the material for Abigail\u2019s shawl was a second square package. In it, she found a piece of brown cloth which she recognized as a piece left from the cloth Grandmother, herself, had woven for her warm winter coat. In the same package were a pattern for both a coat and a bonnet, and thread and needles.\n\nIn a tiny box was a little silver thimble with a name engraved on it. Susan looked at the thimble carefully and spelled out each letter of the name aloud, \u201cT\u2019h\u2019U\u2019r\u2019Z\u2019a. Why, that must have belonged to Grandmother's mother.\u201d\nSusan said, \"Grandmother's name is Abigail. Her mother's name was Thurza. Grandmother told me all about her. She must have had that thimble when she was a little girl in Virginia.\n\nIn this package was a long letter in Grandmother's fine, small writing. It read:\n\nDear Susan,\n\nHere is some cloth for a coat and a bonnet for Abigail. If you pin the pattern on the cloth carefully, as I have written on the pattern, you will find there will be enough cloth for a bonnet, too.\n\nMy mother's brother brought this silver thimble to her from England when she was just your age, and she learned to sew with it. I hope you will take good care of it and keep it as long as I have. I learned to sew with it, and your mother used it when she learned to sew, too. It will make me very happy to think you are using it as you learn to take care of your sewing.\"\n\"Grandmother, Mother. Favorite hymn, \"Oh, Mother, isn't Grandmother nice? Yesterday, I found it queer she let Abigail start on a long journey without a coat. That's a joke on me!\" \"I think it was a very good idea of Grandmother's,\" answered Mother. \"She thought we might be delayed on the road and you would have some way to busy yourself.\" \"My grandmother is the best grandmother in the world! I know she is, and I'm glad I belong to her,\" said Susan happily, as she began to make the fringe on Abigail's shawl. The three following days passed quietly. The roads grew worse, so traveling was slow. The men took turns driving the cows, riding Dan, and driving the oxen. Susan waved to the children she saw playing outside the few cabins they passed. She often held Abigail.\"\nGail displayed herself for them to see, and as the wagon jolted, Abigail's head nodded, as if she were bowing to the children. Often, they would drive for hours and see no one. Then Susan amused herself by looking for pictures in the white clouds in the sky. She found that if she looked carefully, she could see lovely pictures\u2014sometimes an animal, sometimes a range of high mountains\u2014and once she saw clouds that looked exactly like Mary and her little lamb.\n\nVIII\n\nAN OHIO RIVER INDIAN STORY\n\n\"Today is the most important day of our trip!\" exclaimed Father on the morning of the fifth day after they had left their old Kentucky home.\n\n\"What happens today?\" asked Susan. \"Oh, I know; we cross the Ohio River, don't we?\"\n\n\"That's right. We do. Or rather, the ferry takes us across! The Ohio will be a great sight. You can't imagine it.\"\nImagine such a big river, Susan.\n\n\"Is it pretty?\" asked Mother.\n\n\"No, not exactly pretty,\" answered Father. \"It's too muddy. But that wide expanse of water, almost like a lake, always interests me. Perhaps we will see some of the big river steamboats.\"\n\n\"Let's hurry and eat so we can start,\" urged James, eager to see the much-talked-of 'Hio.\n\nWith everyone helping, the wagon was quickly packed. \"It's amazing to me how fast we can work when there's something ahead we want to see!\" claimed Father jokingly.\n\nAfter a few miles, Susan noticed that the wagon had stopped lurching from side to side. The road seemed to be more smooth, and the log cabins were closer together. Across the hills were broad fields and green meadows, while here and there were apple orchards tinged with the soft green of early spring.\nIt was the season of spring rains. Mudholes were full of water, and brooks were overflowing their banks. The Calvin family rode on in silence, each one waiting for the first glimpse of the great river.\n\n\"We're in the Ohio valley!\" finally called James from where he was riding Dan, far ahead of the covered wagon. \"See, they're getting ready to plant tobacco - acres and acres of it.\"\n\nAn Ohio River Indian Story\n\nAs the wagon drew up, Susan looked back at the rich flat land. Father drove the wagon a few feet farther to a high, dry portion of the river's bank and came to a stop. He jumped down from the seat, helped Mother and Tim down, and called gaily, \"All out! Come and see the big river. Here's a fine view. You'll never forget it.\" Then he lifted Susan down and led her around the wagon, beyond the team of oxen, where she could see the river.\n\"There's the Ohio,\" he said impressively, pointing to the wide, brown river in the distance. \"She's not very high now, because we haven't had enough rains, but sometimes I've heard that she rises many feet, overflows her banks, and covers all that fine black earth on either side. The Ohio is a wicked thing! She whirls and eddies and roars as though she wanted to go higher and higher. Folks have lost their lives fighting her floods.\"\n\nSusan felt a shiver go up and down her spine as she thought of that powerful river, already as wide as a lake, growing wider and deeper.\n\nThe great broad river lay before them. On the farther side, there was a range of bluffs which seemed beautiful to Susan, rising high on either side.\n\n\"What a lot of water!\" exclaimed David. \"It's almost an ocean.\"\n\n\"Holy Moses!\" said James, coming up with the others.\n\"What a river! Look how it eddies. It must have a powerful current,\" said Tom.\n\"You're right, Tom,\" Mother replied softly, \"it is majestic. Isn't this a beautiful valley? But where is Susan?\"\n\"Here I am,\" Susan answered, \"I just ran to get Abigail to show her the 'Hio, too.\"\n\"That's Madison over there,\" Father told them, pointing to a group of houses across the river. \"We will stop a few hours there for trading. I want to get glass for the windows of our new cabin. We need rope, and we ought to have powder and shot before going on.\"\n\"Look! What's that coming down the river?\" Mother asked, pointing to a queer boat floating on the surface of the water with a cabin built in the center.\n\"Oh, I'm glad we can see that,\" Father said. \"I've heard about them, but I never saw one before. It is called a broadhom. You know settlers can sometimes live in them on the water.\"\nThe Ohio River Indians travel more easily to their new homes by water than by land. An Ohio River Indian Story. We travel by land in a covered wagon. They have built a large flatboat and in the center of it, they built a cabin where they live as they travel by water. Look closely, and you can see the cattle behind the cabin. They have a rowboat fastened behind and the washing is hung out to dry.\n\nThe Calvins stood watching the queer-looking boat as it seemed to drift down the river.\n\n\"Look, James,\" called David, \"watch the man standing at the back! See how he guides the boat with that long pole. The whole thing is like a raft, isn't it, Father?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Calvin, \"the flatboat is built of big logs. That family will use the deck and sides to make floors for their new cabin. See, Susan, there is a railing all around the edge of the flatboat so that the children and the livestock do not fall in.\"\nCattle cannot fall into the water.\n\n\"Where do you suppose they have come from, Tom?\" Mother asked.\n\n\"Oh, somewhere back East \u2014 maybe as far as Pittsburgh,\" answered Father. \"It used to be very dangerous to travel down the Ohio River from Pittsburgh, for there was a high rock on the bank not far from Cincinnati where the Indians watched the river. When a boat load of settlers was seen, a band of Indians would often rush down, capture the boat, kill the whites, scalp them, and carry off the boat's cargo. Not so many years ago, the Indians were still warlike, and bitterly resented the white man's coming to take more and more of their territory.\n\nCome and sit down, all of you, on this flat rock, while I tell you a true story.\"\n\nSusan drew close to him, clutching Abigail tightly.\nTwo families in their excitement. The eyes of the two boys never left his face. Mother looked off across the river, her head inclined to catch every word.\n\n\"Some years ago, two families were floating down the Ohio in their flatboats to find new homes. They passed Cincinnati in safety, but one very dark night they were awakened by the cries of Indians, who were holding a war dance around a huge bonfire on the shore. Fortunate\u00adly, the night was dark and there were no lights on either of the boats.\n\n\"They pulled the rear boat loaded with horses, cattle, and livestock close to the first boat and fastened them together. Then, hoping that they might not be seen, the little party floated quietly past the scene of the Indian dance.\n\nAn Ohio River Indian Story.\nthe scene of the Indian dance. The light of the bonfire illuminated\nThe fire was too bright for them to go unnoticed. When the two boats had drifted opposite the fire, the Indians saw them and ordered them to come ashore and surrender.\n\n\"Though the Indians shouted their war cries and used their bows and arrows, the head of the little party whispered to everyone to remain concealed and to keep perfectly quiet.\n\n\"When the Indians received no answer to their command, they were puzzled. They stopped dancing about the bonfire and shouting. A brief council was held. Then several Indian braves paddled toward them in their canoes. But the two boats floated on, silently, without any sign of life.\n\nThe Indians paddled close. Alarmed by the silence, several halted and allowed their canoes to drift. A few, braver than the rest, circled the two boats. Others came close and peered in. But no one was there.\nEverybody was carefully hidden, and the Indians, perhaps thinking it was a boat manned by dead men, suddenly uttered one word and quickly paddled away, glad to return to their camp fire. Abigail The little party of white settlers were safe. They cautiously continued their journey and eventually found pleasant homes near one of the settlements in the southern part of Indiana. \"That's the best story I ever heard you tell, Father,\" said David. \"Did it really happen?\" asked Susan. \"Yes, the man who was the head of the party and told everyone to keep perfectly quiet, was the one who told it to me,\" answered Father. \"I'm glad we're traveling in a covered wagon,\" said Susan. \"I'd rather meet bears than Indians.\" Let's drive on down to the river's edge.\nFather: \"That's our ferry coming over now.\" The family saw a large, flat boat crossing from the opposite shore.\n\nFather: \"Bring Abigail and come and sit between Mother and me, Susan. You must see all that goes on. Dave, put my gun in the back of the wagon. We won't need it in Madison.\"\n\nAbigail: \"Oh! This is much nicer up here,\" exclaimed Susan, as she settled herself on the high wagon seat. \"I like to see what's coming, instead of what we're leaving behind. Don't you, Mother?\"\n\nMother nodded as she watched Father drive the oxen down the steep hill and across the flat river valley to the ferry landing. There was the ferry boat waiting for them.\n\nThe ferry was a flat-bottomed boat that looked to Susan very much like the floor of the biggest store at home. Around this floor was a strong log railing.\nFather drove the oxen and wagon slowly and carefully onto the ferry boat. Dave jumped off Dan's back and led him, while James drove Buttercup and Molly on. Steve roamed all over the boat.\n\n\"Well, I never thought I'd take a wagon ride on a river!\" Susan gasped, turning to Abigail. \"Isn't it fun?\"\n\nFrom her seat in the wagon, Susan could see a pair of strong ropes attached to one side of the ferry. These were secured by pulleys to a much larger rope that extended clear across the river. Each end of the rope was tied securely to a large pile on the opposite shores - one pile was in Kentucky, and the other in Indiana.\n\nThe jerry was a flat-bottomed boat.\n\nCrossing the Ohio River.\nTwo men with strong poles dipped them to the bottom of the river and pushed the flat boat along. The heavy ropes kept the boat from being pulled from its course by the strong current. As the ferry drew close to the Indiana shore, James and David slipped between the groups of people, cattle, and packing cases, up to the bow. Here they stood, watching the men on shore tie ropes around the piles on the dock to make the ferry secure. The tall negroes laughed, sang, and pushed each other about as they unloaded bundles of pelts to be shipped to Cincinnati. Bags of wheat and beans, bundles of wool, tall willow baskets - some filled with cheese and eggs - cows, sheep, horses, these all added to the confusion on the dock.\nFather drove the wagon; Dave followed, leading Dan, with Steve close behind. James shoved and shouted at Molly and Buttercup. The cows looked from side to side, switched their tails, and slowly ambled off the ferry. Father had driven across the main street and tied the oxen to a hitching post.\n\n\"Boys, fasten the cattle to the wagon and give them feed. We will walk around town and do some trading. You boys will want to go down to the wharves to watch the boats load and unload. I suppose Mother and Susan will want to go in the stores. I have business and I want to see an old friend. We will all meet here at the wagon in two hours.\"\n\nThe boys rushed away. Susan picked up Abigail and straightened her bonnet. Mother put on hers.\nTim's coat. Then Susan took Mother's hand and walked timidly beside her down the street. It was strange to the child to see so many houses together, some of which were painted a sparkling white. There were many carriages driving up and down the street, and many people hurrying about. Susan had never seen such a busy place. No one stopped to speak to her, and then she realized that very few people who passed did speak to one another. The men and women were dressed in handsome clothes, very different from the clothes Susan had ever seen worn. A flag of red and white stripes with a cluster of white stars on a blue background in one corner, was floating over the largest store. Mother and Susan went inside.\n\nThe shelves in the front of the store were piled high with the most beautiful cloth. Susan overheard\n\n(This text appears to be clean and readable as is, with no need for corrections or additional cleaning.)\nA woman asked to see \"a piece of silk,\" and as she watched the clerk show a lovely shiny fabric with flowers all over it, she kept saying to herself, \"Silk, silk.\" To Susan, it looked like a flower garden in sunshine.\n\nAs Susan and Mother walked slowly toward the back of the store, they saw other shelves filled with shoes and boots, and pretty slippers with slim, high heels.\n\nIn the back room of the store were things to eat. It smelled so good! There were raisins, kegs of New Orleans molasses, huge cheeses, boxes of salt fish, a crock of pickles, a barrel of coffee, tea, and neat little boxes of spices.\n\n\"Mother, what are those pretty yellow balls?\" asked Susan, pointing to a basket in which they were piled high.\n\n\"Those are oranges, Susan. I haven't seen any since I left Virginia,\" answered Mother.\nWhat do you do with them?\" was the next question.\n\"Why, you eat them, child. They are very good. I'll buy one for each of us as a great treat,\" and Mother turned to the clerk and bought six.\nWhen Mother paid for them and the clerk handed her the package, they hurried out. They walked past several stores, and at last Mother stopped in front of a window which was filled with bottles \u2014 big ones, little ones, and medium-sized ones \u2014 each filled with a different colored fluid. Mother explained that it was called an Apothecary Shop, where one could buy every kind of medicine. Susan had never known there were so many medicines in so many colors.\nIn the next shop window, Susan looked longingly at a beautiful pink umbrella with a long white handle. \"That's called a parasol, Susan, and you carry it to keep the sun off your head,\" explained Mother.\nSusan burst out laughing as she asked, \"Why should anyone want to keep the sun off? How silly!\" Before Mother could answer, she looked across the street and saw Father talking to a man. He saw them. Crossing the Ohio River, 103 waved, and both men crossed over to Mother and Susan. He introduced his old friend Frank Gardener to Mother and Susan, explaining, \"Frank and I were boys together. Now he lives here in Madison.\"\n\n\"I have been telling Tom,\" said Mr. Gardener, \"that Madison is second only to Cincinnati as a port in the middle west. In one month last year, two hundred thousand hogs were butchered and packed here. Madison is often called \u2018The Gateway to the State\u2019 and I like that, don't you?\"\n\nFrom where they stood, they could see the big river steamboats lying along the river front, with bags of wheat piled high along the wharves, waiting to be loaded.\nMr. Gardener put wheat aboard, \"That wheat will be sent as far south as New Orleans, and as far east as Europe,\" he said. A steady procession of covered wagons, which looked just like the Calvins\u2019 wagon, crawled toward the wharves with produce to sell. \"They've driven from Indiana down to the Ohio River to ship their goods,\" he explained, as they watched one wagon unload and saw the men take out bags of wheat, large bundles of straw, and a bag of white beans. \"Those two bundles of 'coon skins and that other bundle of Abigail muskrat hides will bring a good price,\" Mr. Gardener added.\n\n\"Don't the women send anything to sell?\" asked Mother.\n\n\"Yes, indeed, Mrs. Calvin,\" replied Frank Gardener. \"You'll always find a green willow basket under the driver's seat. In it, you'll generally see a roll of blue jeans, some eggs, cheeses, pickles, jelly, and sometimes apples.\"\nSome heavy knit stockings. Oh, yes,\" he laughed as he turned to Susan, \"there is often a bundle of ginseng roots that the children find in the woods. If you gather any, send it down to me. I'll sell it for you for a good price to someone who will ship it clear to China.\" So they talked on about this valley of the 'Hio, new to the Calvins, yet full of opportunity. At last, Father asked about the roads into Brown County. \"Most of these wagons turn off before they reach the White River,\" was the answer. \"I understand the roads are passable that far. But from the White River on, there is only a blazed trail into Brown County.\" \"How about the White River?\" asked Father. \"Well, Tom, you really ought to hurry on,\" was the serious answer. Crossing the Ohio River, the White River is high now.\nThe spring rains will soon make it hard to find a place to ford. Mother sighed, for she knew well the dangers of high water. Father straightened his shoulders as he said, \"In fifteen minutes we meet the boys at the wagon. I've already put in the rope, the powder, the shot, and the glass. We'll leave Madison tonight.\"\n\n\"You'll have good roads for at least two days. I'm sorry to see you hurry through. Look me up when you come back to trade.\"\n\n\"Good-bye, Frank,\" said Father, as the two men shook hands.\n\nThe storm\n\nWarm sunshine and fairly good roads made the travel for the next two days unusually pleasant. The oranges which Mother bought in Madison were served as a surprise dessert for Sunday supper, and Sunday evening after prayers, they all sang Mother's favorite hymn again, hoping it would give her the pleasure her surprise gift of oranges had given them.\nWhen Susan woke up Monday morning, she found it cold and dark, with clouds hanging low in the sky. The storm was coming. After a hurried breakfast, the family pushed on. The roads grew steadily worse as they drove farther and farther from Madison. Soon, the road the Calvins were following became little more than a wagon track, winding between stumps and boulders, chuck holes and logs. Woods, woods, woods extended as far as they could see, though perhaps once in the morning and once in the afternoon they would pass a farm, the land partly cleared, with a log cabin in the center of the clearing. The wind moaned through the trees and clutched at the covered wagon, shaking it angrily. Abigail's red sunbonnet blew off. David, plodding along behind with the cows, caught it and handed it to Susan, saying, \"I found this red bird in a bush! Do you know what to do with it?\"\nFather watched the clouds settling lower and lower until a gray-green mist seemed to shut them in from the rest of the world. Susan pinned Abigail's shawl about her closely and tucked her deep in the feather bed. The wagon lurched over a stump in the road, and Susan slid against the old chest.\n\n\"Carrie, we are going to have a storm. I believe you and Tim had better get inside the wagon with Susan,\" she heard Father say above the howling of the wind. He brought the oxen to a stop, helped Mother and Tim down, and walked with them to the back of the wagon.\n\n\"Baby Tim and I are coming in here with you, Susan,\" Mother said anxiously. \"Father thinks a hard storm is coming.\"\n\n\"Hop out,\" called Father in a businesslike way. \"I want to make a comfortable place for Mother and Tim in here on the feather bed with you.\"\nFather pushed furniture back against wagon sides for more room. Susan thought of Mr. Gardener's warning about White River and rain.\n\n\"David, ensure canvas is secured,\" Father directed. \"James, drive cattle on as long as possible. If heavy rain comes and they halt, we'll be stranded. I'll manage the wagon.\"\n\n\"Tom, hadn't you better take chickens out of coop under wagon?\" Mother called.\n\nFather untied coop from under wagon. As he removed each chicken, he tied its legs together and tossed it into the wagon.\n\nHardly was Father back on wagon seat when a strong gale caught the wagon, pulling the canvas top so that ropes screeched with the strain. The wind whistled through trees, which swayed and bent.\nThe canvas cover shook and pulled, seeming on the verge of being torn off. \"Mother, I'm afraid the cover will blow off,\" Susan said.\n\n\"You needn't be,\" Mother replied. \"Grandfather said it was strong and would withstand any wind. Don't you remember how tightly he tied it down and how carefully he fitted each hoop?\"\n\nThe wind blew in erratic, powerful gusts. But the canvas top held firm and tight, as Grandfather had promised. The sky darkened. Suddenly, sharp lightning zigzagged across the sky, illuminating the surrounding forest.\n\n\"Mother, this is the most dreadful storm,\" Susan murmured. The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a roll of thunder that ended with a deep boom. Lightning and more thunder followed. Baby Tim seemed frightened and screamed almost as loudly.\nThe thunder roared to wide-eyed Susan. No Abigail, Mother leaned over and said between claps of thunder, \"The dwarfs are playing at ninepins, Susan.\" This made Susan smile, as one of her favorite stories was Rip Van Winkle. Then came the rain! At first, a few drops struck the canvas top with such force that it seemed as if small stones were being hurled at them by a forest giant. Then came a downpour. The rain swept over them, making the road a river of whirling mud. \"I do believe the rain doesn't come in drops. It just comes in pailfuls,\" said Susan to Abigail, as she pushed her far under the chest where she couldn't possibly get wet. The faithful oxen strained on, pulling the wagon through mud that was fast creeping up toward the hubs of the wheels. Looking back, Susan could see.\nscarcely the boys in vain tried to drive Buttercup and Molly in the wagon's wake. They merely stood with their backs to the storm, refusing to move.\n\n\"Oh, Mother,\" shouted Susan above the clap of thunder and the noise of the rain pelting against the tightly stretched canvas, \"look at the mud! David and James are soaked, and the cows won't budge.\"\n\nThen came the rain!\n\nThe Storm\n\nMother's heart sank as she looked back. Mud! Mud! Mud! Could they ever get through it? Mother noticed that the wagon wheels were slipping. Twice the wagon careened against tall trees, and the sturdy oxen slipped to their knees again and again. But they struggled up, and trudged slowly on. Father calling to them above the roar of the storm. Foot by foot, the wagon lurched forward while Mother and Susan held their breath, feeling that each wagon length was a battle won.\nMother brought them closer to shelter and safety. Then came one last lurch \u2014 one sudden jerk \u2014 and the wagon stood motionless. Mother and Susan looked over Father's shoulder to see the oxen straining to lift their feet out of the mud. The oxen could drag the wagon no farther; even their great strength was powerless against the deep mud.\n\n\"Well, we're stopped!'' said Father, quietly. Not a word was spoken as the rain beat on the canvas and the trees screeched and groaned in the high wind. Suddenly they heard a crack \u2014 a splintering of wood and a tearing of branches \u2014 as a large tree fell in the road directly behind them.\n\nMother caught her breath. Susan gasped in fright. But in a moment, Father appeared at the rear of the wagon. \"Well,\" he shouted, \"we're stuck for sure! We can't go forward, and we can't go back. There's no way around it.\"\nNothing to do but wait for the storm to pass. Then we will cut logs and big branches and lay them along this low section of the road. The oxen can walk over a road of branches and pull the wagon, too, without sinking too deep in the mud. There's higher ground ahead. These rains never last long, said Father, as though this were all a part of pioneering.\n\nSusan was glad to have something to do. She found the patterns and the material and cut them out easily, for the wagon was standing still. Soon she began to sew. There was something very comforting about the feel of the little silver thimble on her finger. As Susan made small, even stitches, she wondered to herself how Thurza would have felt if a big forest fire had broken out instead.\ntree had crashed to the ground just behind her. After a time, the wind gradually died down, and the rain became a gentle spring shower. As Father had said, the storm was passing. Father, David, and James took out their axes and began to cut down small trees and heavy overhanging branches. After they had cut them, they dragged them into place and covered the muddy road ahead. Thus, they made a firm footing over which the oxen could draw the wagon without sinking into the apparently bottomless sea of mud beneath. The three men worked steadily, for as Father said, another hard rain would make the road that much worse, and they must get the wagon and cattle to high ground quickly.\n\n\"Over beyond that low ridge is the White River; we must make it by nightfall,\" he said.\n\nIn the middle of the afternoon when the rain had stopped.\nSusan stopped and slipped off her shoes and stockings. She ran about, helping to carpet the road with lighter branches she could carry. The mud felt cold to her bare feet, but it was fun to feel it ooze up between her toes. Mother smiled as she watched Susan pick her way gingerly among the puddles. Life was hard in this new country, and she believed in letting little girls do lots of things boys did, for they all would have to learn to make the best of hard things.\n\nXI\n\nCROSSING THE WHITE RIVER\n\nToward sunset, Susan went back down the road to bring Molly and Buttercup an armful of sweet fresh grass. \"It won't help much with the road,\" she said to herself after her arms were full, \"and how the cows will enjoy it for supper.\"\n\nShe tossed it in a pile in front of them and smiled to see how quickly they swallowed it. As she turned away.\nShe saw in the distance a team of oxen wallowing as they crossed the White River. In the mud far down the road, she saw a covered wagon with the oxen slowly drawing it. She shaded her eyes and looked again. The oxen sank far down in the mud and stood still. Four men climbed out of the wagon and had their axes out. The sound of chopping filled the air.\n\n\"They're stuck too,\" exclaimed Susan.\n\n\"That's good!\" exclaimed Mother when Susan told her about their neighbors. \"Many hands will make light work of filling the road, and we can all help each other in crossing the White River, too.\"\n\n\"May I go and see if there are any little girls in the wagon?\" asked Susan.\nMother answered, \"Yes, run along, but hold up your skirts so they don't get too wet and muddy.\" When Susan returned, she reported that there were two more wagons she hadn't seen - three in all - wanting to cross the White River. \"They are all old friends, going to new homes together,\" Susan said. \"There are ten children in the three wagons. One of the women, Mrs. Presley, suggested that we could all have dinner together. I suggested we eat outdoors on the high ground of the roadside. She asked you if we could join them.\" Mother replied, \"What a splendid idea! Well, we'll make a jolly time out of what seemed to me this morning might be a real hardship.\" Mother pinned up her skirts, removed her shoes and stockings, and quietly climbed out of the wagon, leaving Tim asleep. Susan helped Mother unpack.\nThe women cooked kettles and food. They both went down the road to where a fire was burning and potatoes and venison were roasting. The women and children became well acquainted as they prepared supper, and the men and boys worked together carrying logs and branches to lay across the road.\n\nMr. Presley had killed a deer the day before, and soon the women were broiling thick steaks of venison over the open fire. Mother brought pitchers of new milk, a crock of yellow butter, and piles of steaming hoecake to add to the feast.\n\n\"How far are you folks going?\" Father asked as they were all seated at supper.\n\n\"Across the White River and east to Greenfield,\" one man replied. \"Where are you bound for?\"\n\n\"We're on our way to Jacksonburg, in Brown County. After this rain, I'm wondering if we'll ever be able to ford the White River!\"\n\"I don't know! It will be a job, though,\" was the answer. The day's heavy work, the good meal, and the warm fire made them very sleepy. As soon as the meal was finished, each family went back to its wagon to sleep. The stars were twinkling in the clear sky.\n\n\"Mother, haven't we had a good time?\" asked Susan, as they skirted mud puddles on their return. The cattle were already asleep, and in a little while, all the family was asleep - Abigail in Susan's arms.\n\nBy noon the next day, the road was ready to use. Father borrowed an extra team of oxen from the Presleys to hitch to the Calvins' wagon. With skillful driving, the family walking, and all the men in the group pushing from the rear, the Calvins' covered wagon was finally pulled to high ground. Then Father unhitched his oxen and loaned them to the other men.\n\nAbigail.\nThe owner of the next wagon praised Calvin, \"You know how to handle those beasts! I liked the way you got through. I can't do that well. Will you drive my wagon?\" Pride filled Susan as she watched her father climb onto the seat and align the oxen. She was even prouder when the second wagon joined theirs. \"I've heard tell that practice makes perfect,\" the owner of the next wagon called out. \"How about trying mine?\"\n\nFather drove the next wagon, and the next, down the muddy road and up the bank. At last, the four covered wagons stood in a row, facing the White River. The men and boys cheered, but Father laughed, pulled his gray beard, and said, \"Shucks! Anyone can drive a good team over a good road. We've had the best roadmakers in Indiana working on that stretch, and I've never handled finer oxen!\"\nNot far below them surged the White River, ready high on its banks.\n\n\"Well, there's nothing to do but ferry the wagons over,\" said Father to the man nearest. \"The oxen, cattle and horses can swim across. I had hoped to ford it, but I'd never risk my wagon in that current! The river's too deep. The first thing to do is to make a raft!\"\n\nAll the men quickly cut down straight trees of medium size and hauled the logs to the river's edge. Here they were laid close together. Two men, more experienced than the rest, tied the logs together and bound them securely to strong poles laid across each end of the logs.\n\n\"Aren't we going to build any sort of railing around the raft?\" asked David.\n\n\"We haven't time,\" came Father's abrupt answer.\n\n\"The river has risen a foot since we've been here.\"\nWorking. Hitch a pair of our oxen to the raft and drag it into the river. Tie it to that tree so it can't get away from you. Put a covered wagon on the raft and tie it on to stay. One slip is one slip too many, for the wagon will lurch into the river.\n\nEven as Father spoke, the raft was tied to a tree where it rested partly on the bank and partly in the stream. A covered wagon was rolled onto it, and four men worked at the four corners, tying it securely.\n\n\"You know, Abigail, that covered wagon waddled down to the raft like a big white duck,\" said Susan, who sat on a log not far away, holding her doll and watching the preparations.\n\nAs Susan watched, Father put the yoke on his oxen. He led them to the river's edge, then out into the stream. Quickly he tied one end of a long rope to the raft, and the other end to the yoke. Then he climbed onto the wagon.\nFather sat between the two oxen on the yoke, arms outstretched with a hand on the neck of each. \"Abigail, look where Father is sitting to drive those oxen!\", exclaimed Susan. \"Are you ready?\", shouted Mr. Presley to Father. \"All ready!\", came the answer. \"Untie the raft, then,\" called a second man, \"but hold on tight to the rope. Use it to keep the raft from drifting downstream.\"\n\nAs Susan watched, the oxen walked straight into the river. She saw the water creep up above their legs, up their sides, and finally cover their backs. Soon only their heads were above water. Father sat on the yoke, talking to the animals understandingly, she was sure. The raft, with the covered wagon on it, was being pulled straight across the White River.\n\"Abigail, look, you'll likely never see oxen swimming a river and pulling a covered wagon at the same time,\" said Susan. Abigail looked straight ahead, her blue eyes big and round. Slowly, the oxen swam the river and reached the opposite bank. She watched them wade out, and saw Father jump down from the yoke and untie the wagon from the raft. Then she saw him hitch the oxen to the wagon and pull it up the bank. At Father's word, the men pulled the raft back to its starting place using the rope they had held all the time. They made the trip three more times, and soon four wagons stood safe on the opposite bank of the White River. The women and children who had anxiously watched the first three wagons being ferried, were all loaded into the last covered wagon to cross. David drove the horses and cattle into the water.\nand Susan was surprised to see how well they could swim. But poor Dave, riding Dan, got thoroughly soaked, for only Dan's head and neck were above water, so deep was the river. That night, four covered wagons camped near each other. Susan whispered to Abigail, who lay beside her on the feather bed, that while she hadn't really been afraid all day, she was much happier in a covered wagon on land than in a covered wagon on water. Abigail said nothing, so Susan was sure she agreed.\n\nXII\n\nTHE ARRIVAL\n\nEarly the next morning, after all the good-byes were said, a group of three wagons followed the road northeast to Greenfield. The Calvins\u2019 wagon alone followed the mere suggestion of a road straight north to Brown County. The next day, the road became only a blazed trail.\n\nFor two days more, the covered wagon with a team of six horses trudged along the trail.\nThe chicken coop swung beneath it, following a blazed trail up thickly wooded hills and down into quiet valleys. A bit of bark was removed from trees here and there along the way, marking the road to Brown County in that spring of 1836.\n\nIt was late in the afternoon when the Calvins first saw the little village of Jacksonburg nestled in the valley. On the outskirts of the village, standing quite alone, was a log cabin. The logs were unhewn with the spaces between filled with chips and then chinked with clay.\n\nAs the white-topped, covered wagon approached the cabin, jolly Uncle Sam threw open the door.\n\n\"Well, here you are at last! I\u2019m right glad to see you,\" he called.\n\n\"Ma! Ma! Samantha! Here they are,\" he hollered.\n\n\"How did you get through? The roads tough going? I hear the White River is as high as it\u2019s ever been.\"\nHe asked, pounding David and James, \"How'd you cross it?\" The men talked as the boys took the cattle out to the shed and fed them. Susan hopped down from the back of the wagon. \"My, how you've grown!\" he said, lifting her out and kissing both her red cheeks.\n\nAunt Lina entered with Mother and Tim, followed by Susan and Abigail's portmanteau. \"You must be all tuckered out, Carrie!\" she said, taking the baby and laying him on the bed. \"He's a husky one, now isn't he? He doesn't seem a bit tired, do you now, Tim?\" Tim cooed and gurgled at Aunt Lina, and Susan felt proud of her little brother.\n\"Supper will be ready right away, and you can go to bed early. Get a good rest and then you'll be ready to pick out your new home tomorrow. We'll have to move things around a little to make room for all the beds. If I had only known when you would arrive, I could have had things all ready. But you don't mind, I guess. The men can sleep on the hay in the barn, and with Dave and James sleeping in the loft, we'll have plenty of room.\n\n\"My goodness, Mother, does Aunt Lina talk that fast all the time? I've never heard anyone talk so much,\" whispered Susan to Mother, as they stood combing their hair and washing for supper.\n\nAs Mother made no reply, Susan looked about the cabin. On one side of the room was the great fireplace with its crane, from which hung a steaming kettle. At either side of the fireplace and extending beyond it were shelves filled with dishes and cooking utensils.\"\nIn the room were wooden seats with high backs to keep off the drafts. From the rafters hung chains of dried apples, smoked hams, and bacon. A square hole was cut in the low ceiling through which the boys would climb when they went to bed in the loft. Through an open door in the end of the cabin, Susan could see the lean-to containing the large loom.\n\nAs Susan finished washing, in ran her little cousin Samantha. She was as plump as her mother. Her smile was just as jolly, and she could talk nearly as fast. She greeted Susan with a hug and a loud kiss. \"I'm awfully glad you're here, Susan,\" said Samantha, putting her arm about her. \"We can do everything together, just like sisters, can't we? Come out to the barn with me this minute, and I'll show you my pets. Was it fun coming up?\" We had a dreadful time.\nThe wagon got stuck in the mud when we came, and we hated it. I got sick and I would have given anything to have never started.\n\n\"Oh, I didn't hate it. I liked it most of the time,\" said Susan. \"But you see, I had Abigail. Look, Abigail, this is my cousin Samantha. Samantha, this is Abigail.\" Susan held the doll in her arms as she spoke, and Abigail seemed to bow most politely.\n\n\"How do you do, Abigail! Oh, Susan, do let me hold her. I've never had a nice doll in all my life. I only have the things to play with that I make for myself. Where did you get her?\" asked Samantha in one breath, as she took Abigail in her arms.\n\n\"Grandmother made her for me, and we've had the most fun together. I'll ask Grandmother if she will make a doll for you too,\" Susan added kindly. \"She's coming up here to live near us next spring.\"\nOut in the barn, Samantha showed Susan her treasures: the young 'coon her father had caught; the big black crow which was quite tame and would sit on Samantha's shoulder; the guinea-hen which followed her wherever she went; tiny fluffy baby chicks; and, last of all, a big turtle which Samantha found one afternoon on her way home from school.\n\nAunt Lina had an excellent dinner for them. \"No wonder Sam's so fat!\" joked Father, as he took a third piece of dried apple pie, \"with cooking like this three times a day.\"\n\nThe next morning everybody was up early and busy with the many chores. Father and Uncle Sam fed the horses and milked the cows, while Dave drove them to pasture and James split the kindling wood. Aunt Lina fried salt pork and eggs in the fireplace for breakfast and Mother stirred up some of it.\nHer good combread, which she baked in the reflector, a big tin oven. During breakfast, Uncle Sam told them about the land he wanted them to see. \"There's good land round about here, Tom, and you could get it easy enough, but I've got my eye on the finest piece of land you ever did see. It's up Greasy Creek about two miles. You\u2019ll have to clear it, though.\"\n\n\"Oh, we expect to have to clear,\" answered Father. \"I'd rather be away from the village a piece, for we want plenty of room to spread out. I reckon if Dave can find him a wife among these Brown County girls, he'll be getting married one of these days, and the boys and I figure we'd like to get enough land so we can all farm together. We're a homey family; we like to stay near each other.\"\n\n\"That's just what I said now, isn't it, Lina? Well,\"\nI think I know just the piece for the purpose. Good rich bottom land, fine for tobacco; fine spring there. The Arrival on it, too. There's a pretty hillside, Carrie, where you'll want to build your cabin, and the prettiest hills are around it. Hurry through your breakfast so we can go and look at it.\n\nUncle Sam pushed back his chair and lit his pipe while the others hurriedly finished the com bread and coffee.\n\nSoon Father was ready. \"Come, Dave and James, we need you to help pick out the new home site. Carrie, I'll look over several places and then come back for you. Is that all right?\" Mother smiled and nodded.\n\n\"You and I will ride the horses, Tom,\" Uncle Sam continued, \"and the boys can walk. Be sure to take your guns, boys. You'll find plenty of squirrels up Greasy Creek.\"\n\n\"Let me help you fix things up,\" Mother said to Lina.\nIn her sweet way, as the men left, \"I don't want to make you any more trouble than I have to! Don't you think if we moved this chair over here and put the table over there, it would give us more room?\" she asked, moving the furniture as she spoke.\n\n\"Sakes alive, Carrie! I've always said you had more sense about fixing up a place than anybody I've ever seen! Now why didn't I think about changing that chair and table around? That's a heap better! Run along, children. Go outdoors to play, while we tidy up here.\"\n\n'Til race you to the barn, Samantha,' called Susan, picking up Abigail and rushing out the cabin door. She was there long before fat Samantha arrived, and sat watching the old turtle move slowly across the barn floor.\n\nAs the two little girls played together, Susan suddenly remembered the package her little friend had brought.\nNancy Kennedy had given her a basket to open the day after she reached her new home. She ran back to the house to inquire about it. When Mother and Aunt Lina found it, Susan hurried back to the barn, anxious to show it to Samanthy.\n\n\"Let's go out under the cherry tree to open it,\" suggested Samanthy. \"A barn isn't a nice place to open a present.\"\n\nSusan untied the red wool ribbon that tied it. \"I guessed right,\" she said delightedly. \"The day I got it, I guessed it was a basket!\"\n\n\"I never saw such a pretty basket,\" exclaimed Samanthy. \"It has a handle, too. Do you suppose we could learn to make them, Susan? I would love to have one just like it,\" and she looked longingly at it.\n\n\"Maybe we can! See, Nancy made a pad of pink calico to line the bottom. Her Sunday dress last summer was made of cloth like that pink calico. She's quite the seamstress.\"\nBefore Susan and Samanthy knew it, a big bell sounded, calling them to dinner. When they went in, they heard Father telling Mother about the land they had seen that morning up Greasy Creek.\n\n\"You'll like it, Carrie, I know. As soon as we finish dinner, I want to take you up. I didn't look at anything else, because it didn't seem necessary. No land could be any better than this. It's just what we've wanted: rich bottom land, plenty of water.\"\n\nDavid promised me to make a table for my bedroom next winter when he isn't busy, and then I'll keep the basket on it. Won't that be nice? But in the meantime, you may put the basket wherever you'd like, Samanthy. We'll pretend it's yours.\n\nThen we'll both have to write her to thank her, won't we? We'll do that the very first rainy day.\n\nXIII\nNashville\n\"Good trees! David agrees with me that it's nearly perfect,\" Susan had never seen Father so happy. He talked all through dinner telling of the many things he liked about the land.\n\n\"I can't see why such good land is for sale! There must be a negro in the woodpile somewhere!\" laughed Mother, as she tried to tease Father.\n\n\"May Samantha and I go to look at the land, Father? Please let us go,\" urged Susan.\n\n\"I reckon so,\" answered Father. \"I can hold you in front of me on Dan. Samantha can ride with Mother on one of Sam's horses.\"\n\nSoon after the midday meal, they mounted the horses and rode down the street. Susan looked carefully at the signs over the stores which stood on each corner of the crossroads. She spelled out loud: \"Joe Sparker General Store Harmes Shop Ploughghes.\"\n\"That's the road to Bloomington, Samanthy told them, pointing to the road that led south. That other road leading over the hill goes to the mill on Salt Creek. Father takes all our corn there to be ground. Across the road, on the opposite corner, Susan noticed a crowd of people standing outside a store. She wondered what they were waiting for. Then as she read the sign she knew the reason: EBENEZER WILSON / Groceries and Liquors / Post Office / Nashville Indiana. \"There's the post office, Father! Are all those people waiting for letters?\" As she spoke, a man on horseback rode up. Two saddle bags hung across his saddle. He sprang from his horse, lifted off the heavy bags, and carried them into the store. The crowd quickly followed him, all anxious to get their letters and papers. \"I don't understand, Father,\" said Susan.\"\nA man forgot that Nashville, not Jacksonburg, is the name of the village. He rode up to a sign that read \"J-O'n-a-t-h-a-n W-O-O-l-m-a-n G-u-n S-m-i-th B-l-a-C-k-S-m-i-th H-O-r-S-e-S-h-O-e-i-n-g.\" At one side of the shop was a wooden pump and a long trough made from a hollow log, where horses were watered. On the fourth comer stood the meeting house, a long low frame building with two small windows and two large doors facing the road.\n\n\"What an unusual cabin! I've never seen one like this. It looks like two cabins put together. Why did they build it this way?\"\nThey asked Susan, as they rode past the meeting house and came to this cabin home, \"That's a double log cabin, Susan. It's a good idea. I think I'll build one just like that so next spring I can add on another cabin. That will give us a larger and more comfortable home. Let's stop a minute!\" They saw a double cabin with a passageway between, wide enough for a wagon to drive through. Stairs at the back led to the second floor, which extended over both cabins and the passageway.\n\n\"There is a fine large cabin of two rooms downstairs, and three rooms upstairs, isn't there, Tom?\" Mother asked thoughtfully. Father nodded as he asked, \"Do you know what that passageway is called, Susan?\" Susan shook her head, and he continued, \"It is called the 'dogtrot'.\"\nSusan and Samantha laughed at the funny name. On they rode, passing several of these double cabins, before they turned to the left and followed Greasy Creek.\n\n\"This is Greasy Creek,\" said Father. \"I think we will build near here. Isn't it a fine valley, Carrie?\" he asked, as they looked around them.\n\n\"I like it very much, Tom. It looks like good land. The view is pretty, too. But there's lots of work to do on this road. It will be bad when it's wet.\"\n\n\"All roads are that way in this new country, Carrie. We'll have to get used to them,\" agreed Father.\n\nThey rode along in silence for nearly a mile when Father turned to the right and climbed to the top of a hill. Here they all dismounted. He tied the horses to the trees, loosened their bridles, and slipped the bits out of their mouths so they could nibble the young grass near them.\n\nNashville.\n\"Here is where I want to build. We can buy all the land we want - mighty good land too - at a fair price. What do you say, Carrie? How do you like it, Susan? Isn't it a pretty place? Susan could tell by Father's voice that he was tremendously pleased. They stood looking over the flat rich land with the beautiful hills all about them without speaking. The quiet beauty of the place impressed them all.\n\n\"Tom, see how blue the hills look,\" said Mother, \"a misty blue. It will be peaceful living here. I'm very glad we came.\"\n\nThen she and Carrie and Susan sat down on a fallen log to enjoy the view.\n\n\"How much is it an acre?\" asked Mother practically.\n\n\"Sam tells me about two dollars. We have nearly three hundred dollars left. We were in luck to get that good price for our farm in Kentucky. I've a\"\nTom wanted to buy a fairly large piece of land, costing about a hundred and sixty dollars. He could pay cash for that. Then, we could buy more land when our first crops were sold, and we had the money. I didn't want to spend all our money on land though, as we also wanted to buy pigs and there would be food to buy until our crops were harvested. What do you think, Mother?\n\nMother replied, \"We must buy sheep too; we'll need wool for our clothes. Didn't you say you needed another horse?\"\n\nThey sat on the log and talked in the warm spring sunshine. The birds sang, the flowers bloomed, and Father and Mother were very happy planning. At last, it was decided to take a whole section of land and build on the hill because, as Father pointed out, the valley might be flooded each spring when Greasy Creek overflowed its banks. The low land.\nWhen they returned, David and James, with Uncle Sam's help, had sharpened the axes. Early the next morning, the men left to begin cutting logs for the new cabin on the hilltop. Mother, Aunt Lina, Susan, and Samantha stayed home to wash.\n\n\"You'll have to excuse me, Abigail,\" Mother said, \"if I don't dress you this morning. I'm going to wash your clothes and you'll have to stay in bed until they're ready.\"\nIt was long after dinner before Susan found time to dress Abigail. Baby Tim was cross that morning, and Susan had all she could do to care for him and hang up the clothes. Uncle Sam had driven two large forked sticks into the ground and put a strong green pole across them. On the pole hung the big black kettle, where the water for washing the clothes was heated. Samantha brought the water from the well and made three trips to the woodpile for chips and logs for the fire.\n\n\"Here, Samantha, take this crock of soft soap I just made,\" called her mother. \"Carrie will need a right smart lot of soap for that mess of clothes. Give me a hand with these tubs.\"\nDearie me, how heavy are these wooden tubs. Say, Carrie, remember to throw all the dirty water on the flower beds as long as you're here, won't you? Water gets awful scarce round here in the summer.\n\nOn a Hilltop\n\nBy early afternoon, the clothes were waving on the clothesline, looking almost as though there were people inside them, Susan thought to herself. She was combing Abigail's hair and putting on her clean dress and pantalets. Only her shawl, coat, and bonnet were in her portmanteau, and Susan had left that open in the sun all morning to give it a good airing.\n\nWhen Mother called Susan the next morning, she snuggled down further in bed, closed her eyes, and said, \"I don't feel well at all! I don't know what's wrong.\"\n\nMother came over and looked down at her carelessly.\n\"Aunt Lina exclaimed, \"Land sakes, child, you've got the jaundice. You're all yellow. Even your eye balls are yellow.\" She walked toward the fire and called, \"Oh, Lina! Susan has the jaundice. Do you have any of those bitters Grandmother used to give us?\"\n\n\"Course I have,\" answered Aunt Lina. \"I couldn't keep house without those bitters! Samanthy, climb up and get the bottle. It's on the top shelf of the cupboard.\"\n\n\"There's only a tiny bit left,\" called Samanthy, handing the bottle down to her mother.\n\n\"I recall now, Sam had a tough case of jaundice about a year ago and used most of it up. I meant to make more, but I clean forgot. Here, Susan, you take this spoonful and I'll make more right away.\"\n\nAunt Lina held up the bottle and Susan watched her pour out some dark green medicine.\"\nI'd rather have the jaundice than take any of that awful stuff! exclaimed Susan, beginning to cry.\n\nI think you must be tired out from your journey if you cry so easily, Mother said quietly. You will have to stay in bed for a few days, take the medicine, and get a good rest. Then you will get well, and be a happy little girl again. Father will want you to go to the clearing with him. You know what I think of little girls who cry! Crying never helped anything. It only makes you feel worse. Now brace up, Susan swallowed the medicine, and found to her surprise that it didn't taste as bad as she had imagined.\n\nWhere do you suppose I put that recipe for the jaundice medicine? Aunt Lina asked herself, as she stood with her hands on her hips, trying to remember. Going over to the big family Bible which lay open on the table, she searched for the page where she had written it down.\nOn a hilltop, she turned through the pages until she found the piece of paper for which she was looking. Then she read aloud:\n\nRemedy for Yellow Jaundice\nTake a double handful of dewberry roots, a double handful of cranebill roots, two gallons of witch hazel leaves. Boil these separately until the juice is entirely extracted. Strain, and pour out all the liquid into one vessel. Boil this down to a quart. Add a pint of good French brandy and a pound of sugar. Dose: One teaspoonful every hour.\n\nAunt Lina paused; then she said, \u2018I haven't half the stuff to make it with, but I know what we'll do! Samantha, you run up to old Mrs. Scroggins. She's a good herb doctor, half Indian, and tell her your cousin Susan from Kentucky took sick with the jaundice, and we are all out of medicine. Ask her if she has...'\nSamanthy brought the apple pie to Susan and said, \"Please be polite as we take her this pie to Clay Lick. Be quick now, Samanthy, and don't spill the bitters.\" Samanthy successfully brought the bitters home, and for days Susan took the medicine regularly while her skin cleared and she grew once more into the wholesome, happy child who had left her home in Kentucky.\n\nSamanthy was well enough to go with Father, David, and James to spend the day at the clearing on the top of the hill. Samanthy carried Abigail, and Susan carried the lunch basket. They started on their journey.\n\nFather told them about a strange old man who lived nearby. \"He's a queer old codger,\" he said.\nHalfway up Greasy Creek, all alone in a rough, half-faced cabin. \"He's lived here for years and years, he isn't related to anybody, and he spends most of his time trapping and hunting over the hills. I imagine he knows lots of good stories, though.\" Father finished.\n\nSure enough, deep in the valley, the girls heard someone chopping wood. Father turned off the road, and the three followed a little path through the woods.\n\nXV\n\nA Good Neighbor\n\n\"Hello, neighbor,\" called Father when he came within sight of the cabin. The chopping ceased, and the queerest old man with a long white beard came to meet them.\n\n\"Hi,\" he said. \"Got the young 'uns with you? That's good. I always like young 'uns! Howdy, girls.\"\n\nAs he shook hands with Susan, he said, \"You were the one that was sick, weren't you? I can tell by looking at you. Jaundice makes a person mighty sick.\"\nI. Had it not been as bad as fever and ague. I had a powerful bout of that last spring, couldn't stop shaking. You go on with your chopping, and I'll send the girls up for a spell, he said to Father, as he turned toward his cabin with a little girl on either side.\n\nII. My name is Jake Schoonover, but all the young uns call me Uncle Jake. I like little girls and posies. We'll see each other often.\n\nIII. Soon an opening in the woods appeared at the end of the path. Here was a garden spot, and a crude kind of shed, the half-faced cabin Father had spoken about. Logs formed three sides of the cabin; the fourth side had no wall, but was covered with a curtain made of animal skins sewn together. The ceiling was low and made of rough clapboards laid upon poles which served for joists. From these joists, Uncle Jake called them, many things were hung:\nhunks of jerked beef, links of homemade sausage, bunches of dried catnip and fragrant chamomile and pennyroyal, strings of red peppers used to make certain medicines, and ears of choice seed corn. A Good Neighbor\n\nHe had made a bed over in the corner by laying a pile of branches along the wall and covering them with moss and leaves. Over this was thrown a blanket. Against the opposite wall were a table and chair. There was no fireplace, for he told the girls he did all of his cooking over an open fire in front of the opening of the shack.\n\n\"Here, Snooper, come and speak to the ladies,\" he called, as a large brown hunting dog came around the corner of the shack.\n\n\"What beautiful brown eyes he has,\" said Susan, as she patted the dog's head. \"He's the kindest looking dog I ever saw.\"\n\n\"Snooper looks kind all right, but he's a ferocious guardian.\"\nUncle Jake said, \"Snooper is a fighter.\" He explained how they went to each trap every winter day to check what was in them. \"I salt and dry the skins and send them to Madison to sell, but trapping is almost over this year. It's getting too warm! In warm weather, animals shed their fur, and I can't sell the skins for much. So in summer, I work in my garden, grow my pretty posies, and 'taters, and things.\n\n\"Your pa will be wondering where you are, girls. Maybe we'd better be going up toward his place now. Bring your mother down some day and I'll give her some herb roots for her garden. I have a lot of healing herbs for sickness. Does she like sassafras tea? I'll bring her some sassafras if she does. Now go along up the road. You can hear your pa chopping yonder. Come.\"\nand see me whenever you can, girls. \"Thank you, Uncle Jake, we've had a very pleasant time. We'll be glad to come again and bring Mother,\" said Susan.\n\nThe girls found Father and then wandered about in the woods, looking at the lovely spring flowers and listening to the calls of the birds.\n\n\"Abigail, you sit down under this tree while we cross the brook,\" said Susan, who by this time was carrying her. \"Then Samantha and I can carry the lunch basket between us.\"\n\nShe left Abigail comfortably seated with her back against an old sycamore tree, with a wild rose bush to keep the sun off. From there Susan and Samantha went farther and farther down the hill to the spring at the very bottom. After they had made cups of their hands and had a drink of the cold water, they sat down on the grass to eat their lunch.\nShe left Abigail seated against an old sycamore tree. A Good Neighbor\n\nThrough the long sunny afternoon, they picked spring flowers for a big bouquet for Mother and Aunt Lina. Susan taught Samantha how to weave a basket of grasses. By the time it was finished and the spring flowers were arranged in it prettily, it was sunset, and Father was calling them to go home.\n\nMother and Aunt Lina were delighted with the basket of flowers. Aunt Lina put it in the middle of the table for dinner and spoke again and again of how pretty it was, how smart the girls were to make the basket, and how glad she was to have Susan there for Samantha to play with.\n\nThe day in the clearing had made Susan very tired and sleepy, so she went to bed the moment she finished dinner. By the time Mother and Aunt Lina had washed the dishes and Mother went over to\nSusan checked on her to ensure she was well covered. Sleeping soundly, Susan was. \"Poor child,\" sympathized Aunt Lina. \"Just over the jawders, I'll wager she and Samantha walked five miles today, hunting flowers for us. A good night's sleep will be the best thing for her.\"\n\nIn the middle of the night, Susan was awoken from her sleep. She heard Steve barking and wondered sleepily if he had treed a raccoon. Then she reached out in the dark to check on Abigail.\n\n\"Abigail, where are you?\" Susan whispered, feeling under the quilt for her. She couldn't find her. Susan sat up in bed. Abigail's portmanteau was on the floor beside her, but no Abigail.\n\nIn a flash, Susan remembered - she had left Abigail sitting alone under a tree in the woods.\n\"Oh dear, Oh dear, what will become of Abigail? Perhaps a bear will come and carry her away. Now it is raining. Abigail will get wet. How could I have forgotten her?\n\nSusan began to cry - great big sobs - and the more she cried, the worse she felt. At last Mother heard her sobbing and came over to find out what had happened.\n\n\"Susan, whatever is the matter? What has happened? Stop crying and tell Mother, dear,\" she said, taking Susan in her arms. Mother sat down in the old rocker with the little girl on her lap and talked soothingly until Susan could tell her how she had left Abigail alone under a tree in the woods.\n\nA Good Neighbor.\n\n\"I don't know which tree, or where it was in the big woods,\" Susan ended with a sob.\n\n\"Well, that was careless,\" agreed Mother.\"\nI'm quite sure you can find Abigail with Samantha's help. There will probably be a little path through the grass where you two children walked. I'm sure you can find Abigail. We'll all help, if necessary.\n\nBut you don't understand, Mother. I haven't any idea what tree I left her under! How can we find her? Abigail must be cold and wet, and dreadfully frightened all alone in the big woods, sobbed Susan.\n\nYou get back in bed now, said Mother firmly. I'll sit down beside you for a little while and you must stop crying and go to sleep!\n\nIt was nearly an hour later when Susan's sobs grew less, and the tired little girl went back to sleep.\n\nWhere was Abigail?\n\nIn the morning, she asked Mother not to tell anyone about it until she had tried to find Abigail. \"I'm so ashamed of my carelessness,\" she whispered.\nMother and Susan went out to the barn to find Father, but Uncle Sam told them the men had left earlier than usual that morning and had been gone quite a while.\n\n\"Sam, may I take your horse for a bit? I want to ride up to the clearing to see Tom,\" Mother said quietly.\n\nWhere was Abigail?\n\n\"Sure, you can! Dolly's as gentle as a lamb. You can ride her easy,\" said Uncle Sam, putting on the saddle and bridle.\n\n\"Come, Susan, I want you to go with me. Run and tell Aunt Lina we are going, and ask her to please listen for Tim,\" Mother said.\n\n\"My! Isn't Mother good!\" thought Susan, as she ran into the cabin.\n\nThere was almost a smile on Susan's face as she perched herself up in front of Mother on Dolly's back.\n\n\"Now, Susan, can't you remember which way you went? Try hard to think,\" Mother said when they reached the clearing and she was tying Dolly to a tree.\nSusan thought it was down toward the big walnut tree, but she wasn't very sure. So Susan and Mother walked up and down, back and forth for more than an hour, looking for Abigail. Even Mother began to get discouraged.\n\n\"Susan, I must go back to feed Tim,\" she said at last. \"I don't know just how we are going to find Abigail. We can't ask Father and the boys to stop their work to help us hunt. Aunt Lina is too fat to climb over these hills. I can't ask her to care for Abigail and Tim again this afternoon. Hadn't we better tell the family about it, and then as the men are working they can be looking for her? You and Samantha can come back this afternoon and go on looking. We will find her.\" Mother spoke with such certainty in her voice that Susan felt much better.\n\nThere was no one who could stop work to take part in the search.\nSusan and Samantha returned to the clearing after lunch and decided to walk. Upon arriving, they both became so tired that Samantha declared she couldn't take another step, \"even if Abigail belonged to me.\" Susan set off alone. She searched under each tree and around them, as well as under bushes and in tall grass. Abigail was nowhere to be found. All afternoon she continued her search. When she heard her father whistle, signaling the end of the day's work, she reluctantly made her way back home.\n\nThe following day, Susan and Samantha resumed their search for Abigail without success. That night, Susan was unable to eat her supper. Every bite felt stuck in her throat.\n\nWhere was Abigail?\n\n\"I'll tell you what I'll do,\" Father finally said, \"I'll go and search for Abigail.\"\nWrite to Grandmother. The mail leaves the day after tomorrow. I'll ask her to make you another doll. How about that, Susan?\" Father leaned back, smiling, thinking he had fixed the trouble.\n\n\"Oh, no, Father! That wouldn't help. Another doll! That isn't Abigail,\" said Susan, as she burst out crying and ran away from the table and outdoors.\n\nFather looked at Mother as he said, \"I'm afraid the child is making herself sick.\" Mother looked at Father very seriously and replied, \"I know just how she feels. Rachel gave Abigail a real face. Susan has never had a sister, and Abigail has come to be a very real person to her. I'm afraid there is nothing we can do except help her forget Abigail, and after a time I hope she won't feel so terribly.\"\n\n\"I've offered her my 'coon, or my turtle, or even my guinea hen,\" said Samanthy sadly, \"but she won't.\"\nThe family was sitting down for supper when there was a rap at the door. \"I wonder who's coming at this time of day?\" Abigail wondered aloud.\n\nUncle Sam went to answer the door and found Uncle Jake standing there. \"Well! If it isn't Uncle Jake. Come right in.\"\n\nSusan, who had been near the door, shrieked when she saw Uncle Jake. She clutched her doll from under his arm and hugged it tightly. \"Where did you find her, Uncle Jake? I looked everywhere in the woods.\"\n\n\"Come in, Uncle Jake! Come in, and draw up a chair and have a bite with us,\" Aunt Lina urged.\n\"Uncle Sam urged, \"Come now, draw up to the table with us and have some of Lina's biscuits. You never ate better!\" I thought the little girl would want her doll back. \"Oh, come now, draw up to the table with us and have some of Lina's biscuits. You never ate better! Where did you find Abigail?\" Mother hastened to explain that Abigail was the name of Susan's doll which he had just brought in. Uncle Jake, with his peculiar manner, told them how his good dog, Snooper, had come in with the doll in his mouth at sunset three days ago. \"I call him 'Snooper' because he's always snooping round and finding things,\" he explained. \"Where did you find her, Uncle Jake?\"\n\n\"I've been mighty busy getting my 'coon skins ready to sell, so I couldn't bring the doll back until tonight. I set her by the fire to dry.\"\"\nUncle Jake found her on a shelf and she had plenty of company. He looked so natural, it would be lonely without that nice little girl by my side. I wanted to keep her, but I knew little Susan would be lonely for her, so I brought her down.\n\nUncle Jake stayed long enough to eat as many of Aunt Lina's biscuits as he could. As he left, Susan went over to him, her face beaming with happiness, and Abigail held tightly in her arms. \"Thank you, Uncle Jake! Thank you a hundred times for bringing Abigail back to me,\" she said.\n\nAfter supper, as Susan sat in the firelight close to Mother with Abigail in her arms, she was very quiet. \"Why so still, Susan?\" asked David, pinching her cheek. \"I am surprised that you aren't hopping up and down with joy.\"\n\n\"I am happy, Dave,\" she answered, \"but I was just thinking how foolish it was for me to worry.\"\nIt didn't help at all about Abigail. So, I made up a poem about it.\n\nAbigail\nIT DOESN'T PAY TO WORRY\nIt doesn't pay to worry,\nCause it only makes it worse!\nBut when you're thinking happy thoughts,\nIt's like money in your purse.\nI've known that if you worry,\nYou'll never find the clue.\nSo now let's all stop worrying\nAnd the Lord will see us through.\n\nWith the finding of Abigail, quiet and happiness once more settled over Uncle Sam's cabin, and the days passed quickly for Susan. She helped to care for baby Tim, while Mother cooked and kept the cabin in order. Mother suggested that she do the work inside so that Aunt Lina could work outdoors in her garden \u2013 her kitchen garden as she called it \u2013 for Aunt Lina was noted in the little village of Nashville for her early vegetables and flowers.\nAbigail confessed to Mother, \"Folks say I raise the most beautiful sweet peas hereabouts. I plant them on the seventeenth of March, rain or snow. Last year, on the seventeenth, I shoveled away the snow to dig the trench for the sweet pea seeds. I was a bit worried about putting them in, but it worked out well. The blooms were the finest I've ever raised!\"\n\nOne Wednesday, Mother and Susan were left alone with Tim. Uncle Sam, Aunt Lina, and Samantha went to get sweet potato plants.\n\nAs soon as they had waved goodbye, Mother said, \"Susan, if you will wash the dishes, I'll finish threading the loom. Lina says I may have all the balls of carpet rags she has sewn to use in a rug for our new home.\"\nWe will have to work fast to finish the cabin by the housewarming. You can help with weaving once I finish threading the loom and start weaving, and I'll do the baking.\n\n\"Oh goodie! I've always wanted to weave! I'll get the dishes washed before you can say Jack Robinson,\" Susan happily cried.\n\nBorrowing Fire\nSoon, a bang, bang, bang sound resonated through the cabin. Susan knew then that Mother had finished threading the loom and had begun weaving.\n\n\"Why, Mother, you've done so much already!\" exclaimed Susan, standing in the lean-to doorway a half hour later, watching her mother. \"You've woven almost a foot.\"\n\n\"Weaving rugs is quick and easy!\" encouraged Mother.\nMother: \"Your arms may get tired beating, but it's very important to beat well, for that makes a firm rug. We don't want any loose weaving. These rags aren't as heavy as I wish they were. Good firm material in the rags does so much to make a good rug. But I'm mighty thankful to have these rags sewn, ready for use. It was good of Lina to give them to me. I'll return the same number of balls of rags to her as soon as I get them. She doesn't need them now, and we do!\"\n\n\"This loom isn't like ours, is it, Mother?\" It's bigger and heavier! This one is so clumsy looking! Can't we set up ours?\n\n\"Oh, no! Father hasn't time to set up ours now. Don't you remember how long it took him to get it apart to put into the wagon. Come over here, and I'll let you begin to weave.\"\n\nSusan sat Abigail down near the loom and climbed beside her.\nSusan found herself unable to reach the treadles of the loom where her mother had sat. \"I can't reach; how can I weave?\" she asked sadly.\n\n\"Oh, dear! I never thought of that. You'll have to stand up, Susan. It'll be harder, but you can manage. When David has time, he will make you your own weaving stool that will be just the right height. I want to teach you to weave linsey-woolsey too. You and I will need new dresses, and you can help me to weave the cloth. We'll wait to do that until after we shear the sheep next spring, and then we can use our own wool.\"\n\nAs Mother spoke, she sorted out the balls of rags piled high in a basket near the loom. \"I want you to use dark rags, with some bright red. This rug we're working on will be laid in front of the door,\".\nIn weaving, remember the importance of maintaining a straight edge. The edge of the rug must be kept tight. If you pull too tightly, the edge will draw in, and if not tightly enough, the rug's edge will stretch, causing its shape to be crooked and appear badly. Watch carefully, Susan. Push down the left treadle with your left foot; throw the shuttle through with your left hand; catch it with your right hand, just as I demonstrate. Then step on the right treadle with your right foot; throw the shuttle through with your right hand; catch it with your left. It's very easy! Now you try.\n\nBut when Susan attempted, the shuttle did not fly through as Mother's had, but instead stopped halfway.\nSusan looked up at Mother in dismay. \"Never mind, push it the rest of the way with your hand, Susan. It takes practice, of course. Keep at it, and you will get so you can throw it all the way through. Now I'm going to set the bread! I want to get it baked before noon. Call me if you need me.\" Away hurried Mother, leaving Susan alone with Abigail and the loom.\n\n\"Abigail, I don't know whether this is going to be as much fun as I thought. It seems like hard work to me!\" Susan said, looking into Abigail's blue eyes. Try as hard as Susan would, the shuttle would not fly all the way through, and Susan's arms ached from pulling the heavy wooden bar back after each strip of cloth had been woven through. \"I can't give up, though,\" she thought. \"We need this rug and Mother will never have the time to do it all herself.\"\nShe worked harder than ever at the big loom.\n\n\"Susan! Susan!\" called Mother, alarm in her voice. Susan dropped the shuttle and ran to where Mother stood before the fireplace. Mother's hands were raised in horror, and a look of amazement was on her face.\n\n\"The fire is out! There's not one single live coal left, not even a spark. How could I have forgotten it? I've never let the fire go out before, and it's nearly time for me to start dinner. How could I have been so careless?\"\n\n\"It's because Aunt Lina always takes care of the fire, and you have gotten out of the habit, Mother,\" Susan said practically. \"Never mind, I'll go and borrow some coals from Uncle Jake. It won't take long for me to run over to his cabin. It's halfway to the mill.\"\nclearing.  We\u2019ll  have  dinner  in  time,  you  just  see! \nI\u2019ll  run  very  fast.\u201d \n\u201cYou  are  a  comfort,  Susan.  Of  course  we  can  bon \nrow  some  live  coals.  Take  the  small  iron  kettle;  put \nsome  ashes  in  it,  and  hurry  along.  Uncle  Jake  will \nknow  how  to  fix  the  coals  so  that  they  will  bum  until \nyou  get  back.  Do  be  careful.  Don\u2019t  fall,  carrying \nthose  hot  coals.  Don\u2019t  tarry,  Susan,  we  must  have \ndinner  ready  when  the  men  get  home,  for  Father  be' \ngrudges  every  minute  he  isn\u2019t  working  on  the  cabin.\u201d \nSusan  shoveled  ashes  from  the  fireplace,  put  them \nin  the  smallest  iron  kettle,  and  ran  quickly  down  the \nroad. \n\u201cNo  fire  in  the  fireplace!\u201d  thought  Susan.  \u201cHow \nstrange!\u201d  Never  in  her  life  had  she  known  a  fireplace \nto  be  cold.  Summer  or  winter,  a  small  fire  was  always \nburning  day  and  night,  so  that  the  meals  could  be \ncooked.  Father  and  Grandfather  were  skillful  in  rat\u00ac \nI'm an assistant designed to help with various tasks, including text cleaning. Based on the given requirements, I'll clean the provided text as follows:\n\n\"ing the ashes over the fire at night so that it gave very little heat. Yet in the morning all that was needed was to have the ashes raked away from the coals, a little kindling wood laid on them, and the coals would burst into a fine blaze.\n\n\"I wish I didn't have to tell Uncle Jake that Mother let the fire go out. He might think Mother careless. He hasn't known Mother very long, not long enough to know how smart she is, and how she never forgets things. I guess I'll let him think I let it go out,\" Susan thought jerkily, as she ran on her errand.\n\nWhen Susan reached Uncle Jake's cabin, she found him cooking potatoes over a fire in the yard. He was smoking his corncob pipe, and Snooper lay nearby.\n\n\"Our fire has gone out. May I borrow some coals from your fire please, Uncle Jake?\" Susan drew a pot from her apron.\n\nThis is the cleaned text, adhering to the requirements provided.\nShe hadn't said Mother had let the fire go out, and she didn't have to tell a lie. \"Borrow coals from my fire? Well, well, well! Now that is a bad fix to be in. I remember when I was a little shaver our fire went out one night when it was so cold that the water froze in the barn trough. But pappy had his tinder box and flint and steel, and the next morning he soon had a spark, and a new fire going. Brought a kettle along, did you? That's good. Come over here and we'll see what we can do.\" He filled Susan's small iron kettle halfway full of ashes. Then he carefully placed a shovel full of red-hot coals on top of the ashes. He covered the glowing coals with more ashes and packed them down hard. Then he put the lid on the kettle and handed it back to her.\nSusan, take hold and walk carefully with the handle. Don't fall or spill the coals. How is Abigail? Bring her next time you come. \"Thank you, we will, and we do thank you for the fire,\" Susan replied. Tell your father to come and visit some day. Have you finished your cabin? \"Yes, we will move in next Monday. We're having a housewarming after that. We hope you'll come. It's going to be an all-day party and the men will help put up the barn. I must hurry. Good-bye. Thank you.\" And away went the little girl skipping down the path. Susan, be careful. You'll spill the coals. But Susan was out of hearing. Nice little girl. Nice family, the Calvins. I'm glad.\nUncle Jake was glad the visitors had come to Brown County. \"They're good folks to have here,\" he thought as he began refilling his pipe and looked at the potatoes. Mother quickly started the fire with the coals Susan brought, and soon dinner was cooking in the fireplace.\n\nMother told them all at dinner about her carelessness. Father laughed and said, \"I wish I had bought some of those new things I saw in Madison. We ought to have them in the house for just such an emergency. You remember, Carrie. They are very small pine sticks with sulphur on one end. Lucifer matches they're called. You strike one on the sulphur end against something rough and it bursts into a flame. Keep them in the house, and you're never without fire. How's that for a wonderful invention, boys?\"\n\n\"It doesn't sound true to me,\" said James. \"I wish...\"\nI've seen them. I'll have to see someone make fire that way before I believe it.\n\n\"All right! I'll tell you what I'll do,\" answered Father. \"If we have a good crop this summer, I'll buy a bunch of Lucifer matches - there's a hundred in a bunch - when we go to Madison next fall to trade, and you may light the first one, James.\"\n\nXVIII\n\nA Housewarming\n\nThe days passed quickly. From sunrise to sunset, the boys and Father cut logs of uniform size for the cabin. Four of the straightest, strongest logs were laid as the foundation with heavy puncheons across them for the floor. With Uncle Sam's help, the log walls were raised higher and higher, and the space between the logs securely chinked with chips and clay. In building the cabin, they were careful to leave spaces for the doors and windows. Large stones were used for the hearth. Abigail, 184.\nIn the woods or pastures, materials were collected and used to build the generous fireplace. A plot of ground close to the cabin was cleared - even the roots of the trees and old stumps had been pulled out - and the ground made smooth and level for a garden. A fence of stakes driven close together, higher than Susan was tall, had been built around the garden plot.\n\nSusan, who had been watching David drive in the stakes, asked, \"Why do you stop to build a fence when there's so much else to do?\"\n\n\"Look around you, Susan,\" answered David kindly. \"See the hawks circling above. Look at that black cloud of birds over yonder. They're crows. There's a rabbit sitting on that log watching us. I've seen a 'coon run up that tall tree several different times. Watch carefully and you'll see a fox and deer in that strip of woods yonder. There are squirrels everywhere.\"\nThe men in the village often hear the call of wolves on a winter night. We must protect our garden from all these wild creatures. And, Susan, have you noticed how Father is constantly burning up all the piles of brush and rubbish? That's because snakes hide in them. I don't want to frighten you, but there are plenty of snakes around here. On that same day, Susan and Samanthy were eating their lunch. Susan said happily, \"We're going to have a double cabin when Father has time to build it. Then Abigail and I will have our own room. Mother said I might have pink curtains, and I'm going to ask Grandmother to put a pink border around the patchwork quilt she's making for me. Some day I'll weave a pink rag rug, too. Won't that be fun?\" \"Yes,\" agreed Samanthy, \"and you have a pink dress.\"\nQuilted pad in bottom of basket Nancy Kennedy gave you. Your room will be so pretty!\n\nEarly on a Monday morning, Father hitched up oxen and piled covered wagon high with every piece of furniture they had brought from Kentucky. All was ready to drive to new home.\n\nThe Saturday before, he and mother bought heavy black walnut bed for Susan, a table, and several other pieces of furniture from neighbor who was moving away. These pieces were already in place in cabin home.\n\nSusan with Abigail and her portmanteau started ahead of wagon. \"I can't wait to get there to look around and get ready for company,\" she explained. \"Today's the day of the housewarming.\" I'm glad your clothes are clean.\"\n\nAs little girl and her doll approached new cabin that was to be their home, sun shone on it.\nTwo glass windows on either side of the front door shone brightly, welcoming Susan and Abigail as they wandered about the cabin. They watched as Father unloaded the wagon. The cherry bedstead and feather bed, on which they had traveled comfortably, came first. Then Mother's rocker was taken out and placed near the fireplace. Her treasured candlestand was put close to it, and Mother herself put the brass candle stick on the mantle.\n\nShe smiled as Father laid the bear skin rug in front of the fireplace while he sang, \"Heigh-ho! The derry oh.\"\n\nMother had killed a bear.\n\nThe bureau from Kentucky was set against the far wall. David put the Seth Thomas clock on the mantle carefully, wound it, and at once it began ticking out the cheery song Susan had always heard in Kentucky.\n\nA Housewarming.\nFather hung the big, black pot on the crane in the fireplace. He kindled a fire, using the chips Susan and Samantha had gathered while the logs for the cabin were being squared. Hardly was a fire blazing in the new fireplace when the first neighbor arrived for the housewarming, or the barn raising as Father called it. That neighbor was Uncle Jake. He appeared at the door with a fine deer thrown over his shoulders.\n\n\"I reckon you could use this for venison stew,\" said he, and James and David grinned with pleasure as they quickly took it from him, and began dressing it.\n\n\"Where's Susan?\" he asked.\n\n\"Good morning, Uncle Jake, I'm glad you've come,\" said Susan, running up. \"I got home with the fire all right.\"\n\n\"Good morning,\" said Mother, before he could reply. \"We brought coals from that same fire.\"\nUncle Jake said, \"We're glad to have you and we've used your firewood to start a fire in our new home. I'm glad you're our neighbors, Susan. Here's something for Abigail. She seems busy and could use a comfortable place to rest.\" Uncle Jake handed Susan a hickory wood doll bed, finished perfectly. \"I began making it for her when Snooper first brought her to my cabin. Now she can lie down when you think she's tired.\"\n\nSusan replied, \"Uncle Jake, you're the nicest person. Thank you very much. I'll make a quilt for her bed as soon as I can.\"\n\nSusan laid Abigail down, and Uncle Jake smiled with satisfaction as he saw how comfortable she seemed in her new hickory bed.\n\"Uncle Jake said to Father, \"I've brought my ax. Let's go out and get busy building your barn.\" Uncle Sam, Aunt Lina, and Samantha arrived as Uncle Jake walked towards the pile of logs. \"I've brought a crock of pickles, jars of preserves, and two cakes, Carrie,\" called Aunt Lina. \"Here's my quilting frame. Don't you go near that barn before helping me get it in place, Sam.\" Uncle Sam laughed pleasantly as he helped Lina set up the frame in the shade of a tall tree. Susan laid Abigail down.\n\nA Housewarming\n\"Here, Carrie, is a quilt I've pieced,\" said Aunt Lina to Mother. \"I have all the materials, and we women will quilt it today. Look! It's my favorite pattern.\" Susan looked at Aunt Lina and Samantha in amazement.\"\nMother's eyes filled with pleasure as she said, \"But, Lina, all that work! You shouldn't!\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Aunt Lina asked happily. \"I worked on it all winter long, hoping I could use it for this very thing \u2014 a housewarming for you. You don't know how I wanted you folks to come! See, it's the wild goose pattern. Many's the time I've looked out of my cabin to see a flock of wild geese flying overhead that looked just like this.\"\n\n\"Each patch of blue that is a triangle is a wild bird, and they fly in flocks with a leader,\" Mother declared. \"I've never seen that pattern before. It's very pretty, and, somehow, it's just right for our new home in Indiana. We do need quilts, that's a fact! I'll love to have it. Thank you again and again, Lina. I'll use it and take very good care of it until Samantha moves into a home.\"\nOf her own some day, and then I\u2019ll give it to her. How's that?\u201d Mother asked Samantha.\n\nAbigail\n\"Here come the Fleeners,\" called James, who had built a fire and had the venison stewing in a big kettle in the yard. Two women, three men, and four children climbed out of the wagon. The men with their axes quickly joined Father, Uncle Sam, Uncle Jake, and David. The women took baskets covered with clean white towels out of the wagon, carried them into the kitchen, and began unpacking them. New bread, hams, fried chicken, and pumpkin pies were piled on the table.\n\nSoon another wagon, and then another turned into the roadway that led to the Calvins\u2019 cabin. As Susan watched, several more came into view. Old neighbors, too busy with their own hard duties of pioneer life to take the time for mere social gatherings, arrived.\nAt last, there were so many people and so many baskets that a long table was set outside, and the food was placed upon it. In the very middle of the table, Mrs. Fleener had put a big fruit pie - the biggest pie Susan had ever seen. Its crust was a beautiful golden brown, and as Samanthy and Susan looked at it closely, they discovered that the top crust formed two large initials - W and C.\n\nWhen the men stopped work on the barn, and the women stopped quilting, the noon dinner was served. As they all sat about the table, Mrs. Fleener said, \"There are two letters on this pie - W and C. Whoever guesses what these letters stand for, gets the first piece of pie.\"\n\nThere were many guesses. But it was Samanthy who guessed correctly.\nWho cried, \"I know. Welcome, Calvins!\" Mrs. Fleener beamed as she nodded, and everybody envied Samanthy when she was served with the first big, juicy piece of pie. After dinner, the children played games, the women worked busily on the quilt, and the barn grew from a pile of logs to a building with walls high enough to need only a roof to complete it. Both men and women worked until daylight faded, and the early spring twilight made them think of supper. There were plenty of pies, cakes, and venison stew left, and again they sat around the table eating and enjoying a friendly visit. Every crumb of the big pie had been eaten at the noon meal, so at Samanthy's suggestion, Abigail sat in the center of the table. Abigail smiled as the women admired the fine stitching in her clothes, and the men her black leather shoes that could lace and unlace.\nportmanteau and her new hickory bed. Each little girl took turns holding her, and even the boys noticed her sunbonnet. When the dishes were washed, and each basket was packed and put back in the family wagon, someone brought out a fiddle. Uncle Jake called, \"All take your partners for a square dance.\"\n\nSusan, with Abigail in her arms, stood with Samantha in the doorway of the new home and watched the first set for the square dance form. Uncle Sam and Mother, Father and Aunt Lina, Mr. and Mrs. Fleener, and finally David, with a very pretty girl dressed in crisp pink gingham, were the ones to dance in the first set. Four more couples joined the dancers, and soon two sets were following Uncle Jake\u2019s directions as he called the figures and clapped his hands to accent the rhythm.\n\nTake your partners for a square dance. . . .\nA Housewarming\nFirst couple swing out to the right and chase the rabbit, squirrel, pretty girl round the world. Gent drops through and circles up four. Lady doe and a gent you know, Chicken in a bread pan mixing dough. Out to the right - swing old Adam, Now young Eve - now old Adam before you leave. Back to taw Cross the hall and swing Grandmaw. Back to taw. First gent swings up the center and breaks the ring - Right back home. Swing that gal you swung before, Up the center and cast off four. Right back home. Swing that gal from Kalamazoo, Up the center and cast off two. Meet \u2019em on the right - left hand back, Swing \u2019em once around - waltz; the left hand gal Same gent swings up the center and breaks the ring. \"I'm glad you\u2019re here, Susan,\u201d said Samantha.\nSusan answered simply, \"I'm glad too.\" She slipped into the cabin and placed Abigail and her portmanteau on the mantle, near the treasured brass candlestick.\n\nAs she walked around the dancers, she heard Mother say to Uncle Sam, \"I'm very glad we came!\"\n\nFrom where Abigail sat, she gazed through the door at the dancers, swaying, turning, changing partners, all to the gay tune of the fiddle and the calls of Uncle Jake. The fire blazed cheerfully in the big, natural stone fireplace.\n\nFriendly voices from outside called out, neighbors laughing together as they waited for a new dance set to form, in which they too might join. An occasional wagon rattled off in the dusk, neighbors calling back goodbyes or promising to see one another at meeting on Sunday.\n\nAbigail, happy in her new home in Indiana, sat.\non  the  mantle  and  continued  to  smile  at  the  friend' \nliness  and  gaiety  about  her,  with  never  a  backward \nglance. \nW'Fmm \nfr.  -'hm \nkm \nkv-vj \nfjt \nmm \nI  i \n-Jr  A \n|MI \nm''M \ni  oi \n1  f  |l|<|l<>ll|l'l|pinr\\  I^IlM \nr\"*rkJ \ni'TV \nLIBRARY  OF  CONGRESS \nnno50a3cUSb", "source_dataset": "Internet_Archive", "source_dataset_detailed": "Internet_Archive_LibOfCong"},
{"language": "eng", "scanningcenter": "capitolhill", "sponsor": "The Library of Congress", "contributor": "The Library of Congress", "date": "1938", "title": "Almost fifteen", "creator": "Irwin, Grace, 1891- [from old catalog]", "lccn": "38019638", "collection": ["library_of_congress", "fedlink", "americana"], "shiptracking": "ST010819", "partner_shiptracking": "IAGC145", "call_number": "5967232", "identifier_bib": "00024759593", "lc_call_number": "PZ7.I71 Al", "possible-copyright-status": "The Library of Congress is unaware of any copyright restrictions for this item.", "note": "If you have a question or comment about this digitized item from the collections of the Library of Congress, please use the Library of Congress \u201cAsk a Librarian\u201d form: <a href=\"https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html\">https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html</a>", "publisher": "Boston, New York, Lothrop, Lee and Shepard company", "description": "p. cm", "mediatype": "texts", "repub_state": "19", "page-progression": "lr", "publicdate": "2019-04-04 12:13:59", "updatedate": "2019-04-04 13:16:46", "updater": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "identifier": "almostfifteen00irwi", "uploader": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "addeddate": "2019-04-04 13:16:48", "operator": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "tts_version": "2.1-final-2-gcbbe5f4", "camera": "Sony Alpha-A6300 (Control)", "scanner": "scribe2.capitolhill.archive.org", "imagecount": "266", "scandate": "20190409124708", "ppi": "300", "republisher_operator": "associate-leah-mabaga@archive.org", "republisher_date": "20190411171425", "republisher_time": "275", "foldoutcount": "0", "identifier-access": "http://archive.org/details/almostfifteen00irwi", "identifier-ark": "ark:/13960/t25b7pn56", "openlibrary_edition": "OL26845962M", "openlibrary_work": "OL19624977W", "scanfee": "300;10.7;214", "invoice": "36", "curation": "[curator]associate-manuel-dennis@archive.org[/curator][date]20190508172710[/date][state]approved[/state][comment]invoice201904[/comment]", "sponsordate": "20190430", "additional-copyright-note": "No known restrictions; no copyright renewal found.", "external-identifier": "urn:oclc:record:1156176361", "backup_location": "ia906901_3", "ocr_module_version": "0.0.21", "ocr_converted": "abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.37", "page_number_confidence": "95", "page_number_module_version": "1.0.3", "creation_year": 1938, "content": "I. Guest Towels\nII. Flopsy Is Perplexed\nIII. Much Ado About Everything\nIV. Initiation\nV. Flopsy's Black Eye\nVI. Surprises for Flopsy\nVII. Christmas Presents\nVIII. High Finance\nBy Grace Irwin\nCopyright 1938 by Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Company\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper.\nPrinted in the United States of America\nTo my nieces Phyllis, Sally Ann and Marcia\nChapter One: Guest Towels\n\nFlopsy Moore was almost completely satisfied with life on that dreary Monday afternoon after the Thanksgiving holidays. She sat, swinging her legs, on the wall which enclosed the grounds of the Alexander Hamilton High School. Her own head of shining curls, the color of burnished copper, was the only bright spot in the dismal scene. But Flopsy's thoughts were gay as she waited impatiently for her schoolmates, Alice Holt and Fleurette Muldoon.\n\nIt was fun being a Sophomore B, she decided, after having momentarily weighed the joys and sorrows of that advanced status, and then the important plan for the afternoon consumed all her attention. The three girls were to call on their former Eighth Grade teacher, Mrs. David Stewart, in her new home. Not one of them hesitated to accept the invitation.\nThe girls were excited to see Mrs. Stewart and her new baby. Flopsy watched the High School doors carefully, eager to spot Fleurette and Alice. She wanted to greet them as soon as possible and avoid being seen by teachers. It was against the rules for her to sit on the wall, and she had been excused from her last class due to a headache. Teachers would not believe a headache could disappear so quickly.\n\nThere they were! Flopsy jumped off the ground.\nFlopsy ran toward her friends. Among the chattering students, she was stopped by three girls.\n\n\"Wait a minute, Flopsy! Wait \u2014 \" One of them caught her arm.\n\nFlopsy stood still impatiently. She mustn't lose Fleurette and Alice. It would be terrible.\n\n\"I want to pay my class dues \u2014 I keep forgetting \u2014 and forgetting \u2014 and forgetting!\" The girl dug into her purse and handed Flopsy a dime. \"I guess I'm paid up now.\"\n\n\"I guess you are,\" Flopsy answered vaguely, her eyes still on Fleurette and Alice. Oh, she mustn't lose them, she mustn't.\n\n\"And I'll pay, too, while I'm about it,\" one of the other girls opened her purse. \"How much do I owe?\"\n\n\"Well \u2014 \" Flopsy tried to control her impatience. \"I really don't know. I'll have to look it up in my book.\"\nI'll tell you tomorrow. Fleurette and Alice were heading, at top speed, down a path in the opposite direction. \"Do you mind?\" Flopsy apologized as she tried to get away. \"I've simply got to catch up to Alice Holt. We have a date.\"\n\nGuest Towels 17. \"M pays for next month,\" and the third girl started to put her hand in her pocket.\n\n\"Oh, don't please!\" Flopsy begged frantically. \"That makes it too \u2014 too \u2014 \" she broke off. Jinks! This was terrible! She was having a fearful time keeping track of past dues and she simply couldn't risk any further complications. The future accounting she must give as class treasurer was something that she didn't care to contemplate. It made her head genuinely ache. It positively made her ill. Who were these girls, anyway? In despair, Flopsy felt she must take the time to ask their names.\nLois Crane and Elsie Martin.\n\n\"Tell me,\" she went on, with what she fervently hoped was a business-like air, \"what are your names?\" Flopsy asked as though she were vitally interested, but this question seemed to annoy the three girls.\n\n\"I am Lois Crane. You know me. You do, really. Don't you remember? I helped you with your Latin one day last week.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's right!\" Flopsy tried to grin, but it was rather sickly. She didn't remember. Anyway, how could this girl have helped her with Latin? No one in this wide world could. She was past all help. And she'd nearly have to break her neck to catch Fleurette and Alice. Flopsy groaned to herself, \"Why don't they stand still?\"\n\n\"And I'm Elsie Martin. I sit two seats away from you in French.\"\n\n\"Lois Crane and Elsie Martin,\" Flopsy repeated slowly. She took a pencil out of her pocket.\nLois Crane and Elsie Martin. She looked as though she were writing the names in her loose-leaf notebook. \"You know, Alice Holt and Fleurette Muldoon and I are going to call on Miss Hilton, our Eighth Grade teacher at School Number Nine. And those two simpletons are supposed to be waiting for me. Look at them, just look at them racing up the street! I hope they trip.\" Flopsy banged her notebook shut. \"I'll give you your receipts in the morning. Please, please ask for them. I never yet had refused to give a receipt to anyone who had asked for it. I blithely tossed them around. Writing them out was unnecessary.\nLois smiled at Flopsy. \"They're standing still now, Flopsy.\" Flopsy was forgiven for forgetting Lois' name. \"It's about time,\" Lois continued. \"I had visions of falling on my nose chasing them up the street.\" Flopsy grinned, showing a dimple in one cheek. \"I'd hate to break my nose. It's the only face I have.\" She started off, then whirled about. \"Thank you, Lois, and thank you, Elsie, very much for your dues. I'll give you both receipts in the morning. But if I forget, just be sure to ask me.\" Flopsy raised one hand in a salute. \"Bye!\" she sang out as she dashed up the street.\n\nLois and Elsie stood looking after her.\nLois commented, \"Let's see if she catches them. I think she's a riot. She keeps our first year Latin class in stitches. She's taking first year Latin for the second time. She says she's better than she was last year, but I can't see how. She's terrible! I just switched to Latin this year, but I can help her.\"\n\nFlopsy, in an undignified sprint, had gotten within earshot of Fleurette and Alice. With her heart still pounding, she sputtered breathlessly, \"What was the big idea of racing up the street? Why didn't you wait for me, you idiots?\"\n\n\"Several girls said you ducked out of gym before the class was over, and Fleurette got it into her head that you'd said you'd meet us at Mrs. Stewart's. Then we met someone else who said they had seen you waiting for someone. You're an idiot yourself,\" Alice almost said.\nThe girls laughed as they walked down the street in good spirits. \"We saw you, Flopsy Moore, talking to some girls as if you had all the time in the world,\" one of them teased.\n\n\"Just paying our class dues. I was ripping,\" Flopsy replied hesitantly. \"I'm going to make a rule that you can only pay your dues during the meetings. This way it's not a nuisance,\" she added, not wanting to admit the difficulty she had keeping her accounts in order.\n\nFleurette laughed. \"I'd get into a perfect mess. I bet if I were treasurer, I'd be put in jail, and they'd throw the key away.\"\n\nFlopsy looked horrified at the thought.\nShe shivered but didn't care to continue the subject. \"Did you see Janet Dudley when she was home last week?\" Flopsy asked Alice. \"She telephoned to thank me for my last letter, but she was so rushed she couldn't see me.\" There was sarcasm in Flopsy's voice.\n\n\"I know someone who saw her,\" Fleurette interrupted, \"and they said she'd plucked her eyebrows!\"\n\n\"All of them?\" Flopsy giggled. \"She must look quite peculiar!\"\n\n\"Not all of them!\" Alice interjected. \"I saw her. But she's changed. She's changed a lot. She has a new raccoon coat. You'd think she was nearly eighteen, honestly. She's really only just fifteen. She was with a boy in a uniform.\"\n\n\"Was he a boy scout, or Western Union?\" Fleurette chirped.\n\n\"He was not! He's from some very swanky military academy.\"\n\"Didn't you speak to her?\" Flopsy asked breathlessly. She hoped not. Alice always acted as if Janet belonged to her. She loved to boast about knowing her.\n\n\"No, only for a minute. She had every minute taken up for the whole holiday. Janet just seems to live in another world from us. She has more boy friends!\"\n\nThe time had come to change the subject again. Flopsy had had enough of this topic. It wasn't as depressing as the job of being treasurer, but she knew that if it went on, she'd get bored.\n\n\"Bored\" was what she thought she'd be, although \"peeved\" would have been a better word. After all, Janet wrote to her more than she ever did to Alice, and Janet loved to read Flopsy's letters to her roommate. She could write a very funny letter, Flopsy admitted to herself unblushingly.\nWhat do you suppose Miss Hilton's baby's name is? Flopsy introduced the question lightly. This ought to be a safe topic.\n\nWell, Hilton wouldn't be one of them, you crazy goose. You never call her Mrs. Stewart. Never! And you were a bridesmaid at her wedding. She's been married now for way over a year and you ought to be used to it by now.\n\nI bet it will be Barbara. What do you bet?\n\nWe won't bet. I am sure it will be Barbara. It simply has to be!\n\nThis emphatic statement was not contradicted. The three girls were in perfect accord. Their former teacher simply must name her baby after her young sister, Barbara Hilton, who was just their age. She had graduated with them from School Number Nine. Her appearance on the platform that night was the most dramatic and exciting thing that had ever happened at the graduation.\nIt was a thrill that had made them all tingle, right down to their toes at graduation. Miss Hilton had often talked of her ranch home out West, in a place called Rawhide, and of a young sister Barbara who still lived there. She had in no way prepared her pupils for the surprise on the night of their graduation.\n\nFlopsy was the only one in the class who had been in on this precious secret. Miss Hilton had been absent from school due to illness a few weeks before the end of the term. Her class had had a substitute, and a \"substitute\" had meant to them only an opportunity for riotous fun. Miss Hilton had heard of their behavior, and it had made her very unhappy. Were her pupils endangering their chances of getting diplomas by wasting time right before their final examinations? She\nMiss Hilton loved her red-haired pupil, Flopsy Moore, but she was certain that none of her other pupils had gotten into more mischief during her absence. So, she had summoned Flopsy. Flopsy knew that if she lived to be a hundred and fifty years old, she would never forget that visit.\n\nGently, Miss Hilton told her about Barbara, or Babbie. Several years earlier, she had fallen from a bucking horse, and for a long time, it seemed as though she might never walk again. Now, she was quite well. During that year, Babbie's greatest happiness had been to make believe she was in her sister's class. Her sister had sent her the lessons as though she were right in the classroom with the other girls and boys. Babbie had been an amazing student, and Miss Hilton had proudly shown her work to friends on the Board.\nEducation. It was they who planned the dramatic conclusion to the graduation exercises. Babbie came East to receive her diploma with the other graduates from Number Nine!\n\nThere was one thrill that was Flopsy's very own. Guest Towels 23.\n\nBabbie had chosen her as her \u201cbest friend\u201d long before that exciting graduation. She had loved nothing better than to have her sister write about redhaired Flopsy Moore. Flopsy was quite the most amusing and interesting girl she had ever heard of. This was a big surprise, but it deeply touched Flopsy and made her humble, yet proud.\n\nYes, there could be no other name for \u201cMiss Hilton\u2019s\u201d baby than Barbara!\n\n\u201cAnd \u2014 \u201d Flopsy went on after her announcement, \u201cdon\u2019t you miss Babbie? I wish she\u2019d come back.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen will she?\u201d Fleurette asked.\n\n\u201cWhen they sell the ranch. That\u2019s why they went West.\u201d\nAnd just as soon as Miss Hilton is well or the baby is big enough, or something, Miss Hilton and her husband and the baby will fly out to the ranch and stay there for a while. Suddenly, without any warning, heavy flakes of soft wet snow began to fall. The three girls let out wild whoops of joy. \"Snow! Coasting!\" Flopsy yelled. \"Alice squealed, 'My hair's getting soaked!'\" \"Who cares?\" Fleurette mocked good-naturedly. \"Well, I do,\" Alice shouted. \"I just had it set!\" \"That's what you get for having a permanent wave,\" Flopsy teased, feeling a little envious of Alice's permanent wave, a feeling which her mother had noticed and ridiculed. \"What a silly attitude. Anyone should be happy to have naturally curly hair,\" Mrs. Moore had said. But Flopsy wanted to go to the beauty shop to have her hair \"set.\" All the girls did.\nShe eyed her friend's hair with gleeful malice. Maybe it would turn frizzy. Alice Flopsy held one hand over her head and planted her school books on it, walking primly. Flopsy felt cheated. She was not to enjoy seeing Alice's hair get kinky. Suddenly, Flopsy realized that her own hair was getting very wet, and remembered that she had carefully arranged her curls in just the exact way she wanted them. She followed Alice's example. Her books began to slide at once, and the rings on her notebook caught. She put up her hand and held the books in place.\n\n\"Alice, you are walking like a stick. We'll never get there.\" Flopsy took a few steps ahead. This was fun. It was so silly.\n\nFleurette held one hand over her head. She, too, had naturally curly hair, and she had just adopted a new hairstyle.\n\"She had no desire to ruin her new \"hair comb\". \"This isn't too funny!\" Flopsy yelped. \"We are going to look like drowned rats. Let's run.\" The others took her suggestion at once, but Flopsy tried still another plan. She attempted to run, still holding her books on her head. They slid from beneath her hand and fell on the wet, dirty pavement. \"Oh -- o -- o --\" Flopsy groaned, and shut her eyes. \"I can't look. Tell me what happened. Break it to me gently. Do you see a piece of paper with algebra homework on it face downward in the mud? Quick!\" \"Ask us pretty please, and we'll look,\" Fleurette and Alice were hysterical with laughter. They bent down and looked over the sorry mess. The loose-leaf notebook was spattered with mud, and so were a lot of papers. Flopsy put both arms over her eyes.\n\n26 Almost Fifteen\"\n\"Until you die on the spot if that paper has to be done over. It's the first time in ages I've done my home work in algebra. Tell me quick. Pretty please, with sugar in it. We don't like sugar. You'll have to give us something else. You have no idea what you have asked us to do. Almost all of your papers are sopping. Flopsy kept her eyes shut. Pretty please with strawberry jam on it. Pretty please with marmalade on it. Pretty please with fudge sauce. Could this be it? Alice gasped between convulsions of laughter. Quick! Tell me! Flora Moore. Algebra. December 2nd. Don't tell her yet. It might be fatal. You have to break the news gently. Alice snickered, and then tried to speak solemnly. Your algebra is very sick. Oh, it looks very, very sick. Flopsy opened her eyes.\"\n\"You can't fool me. It's dead. It's been killed.\" She spoke tragically, hand on heart in dramatic gesture. \"My poor, dear algebra paper, my only one, the only one I've had in so long.\" She looked down and let out a shriek. \"Glory Hallelujah! What a sweet and priceless mess! Girls, you've got to help me. It would be contemptible to just stand there and laugh. You couldn't!\"\n\nBut they could stand there and laugh, and they did. They laughed until they were weak and wobbly.\n\n\"Guest Towels 2 7\"\n\n\"That ought to be a lesson to me! I'll never do algebra again. This is what comes of it!\" Flopsy gasped. She was trying to wipe off the covers of her book. \"How about lending me your handkerchief? Mine's positively disgusting. Look at it.\" She held up one corner of what appeared to be a muddy rag.\nThe girl tossed the books into the gutter as she walked to the curb. She looked down at her hands and made a grimace.\n\n\"Look at my hands! Oh -- o -- o --\" she groaned, pretending to wipe them off on her tan coat. The three girls burst into boisterous laughter again.\n\n\"Oh, Pete! My coat! How can I carry these wet muddy books? My coat just came from the cleaners. My mother will be so upset.\" Flopsy held her books out in front of her.\n\n\"It's raining, it's pouring,\" Fleurette squealed. \"Let's hurry.\"\n\n\"Your hair is getting all unset, Alice,\" Flopsy sputtered as she ran.\n\nThe three girls dashed up the street. With only a short block to go, they took the long walk leading up to the Stewart home in flying leaps. They landed on the porch and moaned.\n\n\"Let's stop and get organized,\" Flopsy groaned.\nAlice and Fleurette wiped their feet on the door mat. \"Don't dirty that mat up. I need a corner. I have a bright idea.\" Flopsy knelt down and began to wipe her books on it. \"Keep your big feet out of my way, Fleurette Muldoon!\" The front door opened. \"Won't you come in, young ladies?\" A maid in a black dress spoke in a cool and crisp tone. Flopsy, taken off guard, flopped right down on the door mat. Fleurette and Alice hysterically tried to drag her to her feet, but they all landed in a heap. \"Oh, Ellen! What is it? What's the matter?\" A sweetly familiar voice came to them. Never had the three girls been more appreciative of the music in their former teacher's voice.\n\"You poor children, come in this second! Almost too exhausted for words, the three girls got to their feet. Mrs. David Stewart, or, as they had known her, Miss Molly Hilton, came past her maid and greeted her young guests enthusiastically.\n\n\"Flopsy! What in the world?\" but she never finished, for they all went off into gales of laughter. Flopsy was carrying her books on her head to keep her hair dry, and they fell off when she ran, Alice managed to explain. Fleurette squealed and then began to giggle all over again.\n\nMeanwhile, Ellen, still in the doorway, was trying not to laugh. \"Ellen, do show Miss Flopsy to the bathroom and take her coat out to the kitchen. We'll have to clean it for her.\" Guest Towels 29.\"\nFlopsy ducked her head with an expression containing ridicule for herself and dismay. She would have liked to call upon Mrs. David Stewart in her beautiful home without doing anything embarrassing. Ellen, with the coat over her arm, led Flopsy down the hall. She turned her head to roll her eyes heavenward at her two friends as she followed Ellen meekly. Once in the bathroom, Flopsy drew a long, deep sigh of relief. But the sigh turned to a frown when she saw herself in the mirror.\n\n\"Ye gods and jelly fishes!\" she groaned, as she began to repair the damage to her precious \"hair comb.\" For a few moments, Flopsy was so absorbed by her task that she did not hear the door open. When she saw the grinning faces of her two friends in the mirror, she whirled around.\n\n\"Well! Well! Fancy meeting you here!\"\nFleurette closed the door quickly and tightly. The three girls nearly died laughing.\n\n\"Fall into the tub, Fleurette, and crack your skull right open, and it will be the end of a perfect day,\" Flopsy warned.\n\n\"You're such a perfect nut, Flopsy!\" Fleurette wiped the tears from her eyes as she stood up. She had been swinging perilously on the edge of the bathtub.\n\n\"You know what I heard!\" Alice suddenly had a thought so impressive that it smothered her giggles.\n\n\"What, for Pete's sake?\" Flopsy asked in alarm. If it were as serious as Alice's expression indicated, she felt she would go right off into real hysterics \u2013 not just this laughing kind.\n\n\"I heard they have five bathrooms in this house! And you know Janet Dudley only has three.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Flopsy drew a long deep breath.\nThe girls stayed in their places, they couldn't hurt me. I couldn't stand it much longer. If they started to run around, I'd just fold right up in a heap and die.\n\n\"Listen, Fleurette Muldoon!\" Alice ordered severely. \"Don't laugh at Flopsy again. Stop it! We have to go out and act like human beings. Remember we have to see Mrs. Stewart's baby.\"\n\nSo the girls combed their hair and washed their hands and faces.\n\n\"Don't you hate to use guest towels?\" Flopsy commented, as they opened the door in a subdued silence. \"Your hostess can tell just how dirty you were when you came to call on her. It's practically a dead giveaway.\"\n\n\"Keep still, will you Flopsy?\" Alice begged. \"And don't think of anything silly for a while.\"\n\nMrs. Stewart came to meet them.\n\n\"What would you like to do first, go to the nursery, or have tea with me in the living room? Mrs. Walker,\"\nMolly Stewart's face beamed as she led us upstairs with delight. Her three former pupils followed with solemn dignity, their eyes wandering in all directions, eager to see everything. On the second floor, they peered with open curiosity into the numerous bedrooms they passed. Molly Stewart finally opened a door and led them into a much smaller room than any they had seen before. But what a room! Its walls were dancing with the gayest and merriest of nursery figures. Even on this dull December day, the room twinkled. In one corner stood the bassinet, and beside it, a nurse in a white uniform. Mrs. Walker's face was as twinkling as the room. Flopsy, Alice, and Fleurette were there.\nThe girls were completely awe-struck and tongue-tied. For no good reason at all, Flopsy could feel her knees wobbling. \"Miss Hilton's\" baby. It was a sweetly solemn thought.\n\n\"May we have your baby?\" Molly Stewart asked Mrs. Walker.\n\n\"You certainly may,\" Mrs. Walker smiled, and bending over the crib, she lifted out a tiny bundle.\n\n\"How old is the baby?\" Alice asked politely. She felt she had to ask something.\n\n\"Just four weeks, two days, and six hours,\" Molly Stewart took her baby into her arms.\n\n\"We were guessing the baby's name,\" Fleurette swallowed self-consciously.\n\n\"My baby's name is Hilton,\" the fond mother looked down lovingly into the tiny face.\n\n\"Why!\" Flopsy burst out, her eyes wide with amazement, \"That's what I said. And the girls said it couldn't be! It couldn't be! And it is \u2014 but \u2014\" she broke off in utter confusion, and then went on faltering.\nShe looked at her friends in bewilderment. \"How could it be Hilton?\" she asked. Her friends seemed just as puzzled. \"And why not?\" Molly Stewart questioned. \"Why can't my baby be named Hilton?\" Flopsy's words tumbled out in confusion. \"We all thought she had to be named Barbara. We decided...\" Flopsy's words trailed off. Molly Stewart and Mrs. Walker laughed. \"So, my dear little son, these young ladies want to make a sissy of you. They want you to go through life with a girl's name. What do you think of that, Hilton Stewart?\" She inquired, holding the squirming bundle in her arms. \"A son. This precious baby I hold in my arms is my son.\"\nMy son and David Stewart's. The girls laughed, but not hilariously. They were frankly disappointed. They had wanted their \"Miss Hilton\" to have a baby girl named Barbara. All three were very fond of Babbie.\n\n\"Won't you look at 'Hilton' and speak to him, even if you are disappointed? And I can see that you are,\" Molly Stewart asked a little wistfully.\n\nThe girls were instantly contrite. They mustn't let their beloved teacher down. They mustn't hurt her feelings. After all, it was scarcely her fault.\n\n\"Of course! Of course! I'm crazy to see him.\" Flopsy went forward eagerly. \"Oh, let me hold him, please! I just love to hold babies.\" This statement, although meant kindly and uttered with the warmest and most ardent desire to please, had practically no truth in it. Flopsy had never held a baby in her life.\nHer brother, Dickie, was past five, and her mother had never permitted her to hold him when he was a baby. There was something about Flopsy that was a little harum scarum, and no mother would knowingly give a precious baby into her uncertain hands.\n\n\"Wait!\" Mrs. Stewart laughed, \"Just a minute.\"\n\n\"You'd better not!\" Alice gasped. \"You're going at him the way you used to go after the ball when you played basketball.\"\n\n\"Do you play basketball?\" Mrs. Stewart laughed again, evading the issue. She didn't want to hurt Flopsy's feelings, but she also didn't wish to take any chances with her baby.\n\n\"She did!\" Fleurette's eyes were fixed on Flopsy in a worried fashion. \"She always fumbled the ball. She nearly always dropped it.\"\n\n\"Good gracious!\" gasped Mrs. Walker. \"You'd better hold the baby, Mrs. Stewart.\"\n\n\"I certainly think I had!\"\nFlopsy's mouth drooped. She felt crushed and ashamed of herself.\n\n\"He's just beautiful!\" she faltered, peering into the tiny face. \"He is simply beautiful. I never saw such a wonderful baby!\" Her voice quivered a bit. She must somehow convince 'Miss Hilton' of her devotion.\n\nFlopsy could never call her former teacher anything but the name by which she had first known and loved her. But these words of praise for the baby were, unfortunately, untrue. She did not think he was beautiful. He was at the moment, screwing his face up into a weird expression, and was blowing out little bubbles from his tiny mouth. Flopsy was completely miserable. She had failed 'Miss Hilton,' completely and irrevocably. She did not think her teacher's beloved son was beautiful.\nBut she would always do anything to make \"Miss Hilton\" happy, even if it meant that her own conscience was not quite clear. Hilton Stewart howled. \"I've frightened him out of his wits!\" Flopsy gasped in horror. \"I am sorry.\" \"Oh, no,\" Mrs. Walker protested, taking the now screaming baby out of her mistress' arms. \"He loves to be told he is beautiful by pretty little ladies. And he is. He is the most perfect baby of his age I've seen. And I've seen hundreds. He is just cheering with approval.\" \"He is?\" Flopsy echoed blankly. \"I thought he was crying.\" \"Well, he's not. He has to exercise his lungs, you know.\" \"He looks just like you!\" Alice said politely, turning to Mrs. Stewart. \"At this moment? Oh, dear me!\" Molly Stewart's laugh was spontaneous. \"Even when you eight As acted up, you never howled like that. Come\"\nMolly Stewart led the thirty-five girls out of the room, winking at Mrs. Walker as she closed the door. \"I'm afraid Hilton will continue denouncing us for a while,\" she said. \"I want to hear what you have to say. I must know how my last class at Number Nine is behaving at High School.\"\n\nThe tea table had been laid while they were upstairs. The girls were tremendously impressed. Flopsy felt it was set with \"rare old family silver,\" as they always said in books. \"Come, girls, sit down. You must be hungry. High School girls never eat properly at lunch.\"\nFlopsy wished she could take four or five of the tiny sandwiches at one time. She was famished. \"Miss Hilton\" was quite right. She never spent all of her lunch money on lunch. She always saved a little to buy something sweet and silly on the way home. However, she felt it was with a dainty gesture that she took one ridiculously small sandwich from the tray Ellen offered.\n\n\"Fleurette's always afraid of getting fat,\" Flopsy commented, just for something to say.\n\n\"I am not!\" Fleurette contradicted flatly.\n\n\"Please don't tell me that fourteen-year-old girls get that silly idea into their heads,\" Molly Hilton Stewart laughed. \"None of you could get fat on what I have here, even if you ate it all. And I want you to \u2013 all \u2013 every bit. Every sandwich and every cake.\nThe girls were delighted. Their faces beamed. They felt now that they were going to have a lovely time. It shouldn't be said that they then ate ravenously or \"grabbed,\" but they proceeded, without another protest or comment, to do exactly as \"Miss Hilton\" ordered. After all, they had always felt that she should be obeyed. They ate every sandwich, every cake, a dish of small bonbons, and a dish of assorted nuts. The former Eighth Grade teacher of School Number Nine, had rarely received such whole-hearted cooperation or such complete obedience. While they ate, Molly Stewart questioned them.\n\n\"Tell me, how are you doing in High School?\" She turned to Flopsy, \"I\u2019ll begin with you.\"\n\n\"Flopsy was the cheer leader all Fall you know,\" Fleurette boasted. \"She looked adorable in the Hamilton colors, navy blue and gold. They just suited her red hair.\"\nFlopsy drank this in with her second cup of tea. It was a rare treat to hear either of these intimate friends praise her. Others did, but not her oldest and best friends. Mrs. Stewart nodded.\n\n\"I know. David, my husband, saw her and heard her. He went to most of the football games,\" Mrs. Stewart continued.\n\n\"And Flopsy's treasurer of the sophomore class, and they say she's going to be one of the editors of the 'Hamiltonian.' That's the school paper, you know. We have elections for it next week, and Flopsy's sure to win. She has had two darling stories in it already,\" Mrs. Stewart added.\n\nNow Alice boasted. This was almost too much for Flopsy. Her tea nearly went down the wrong way. She choked. She had known Alice since she was practically a baby, and never before had she heard Alice praise anything she had done.\n\n\"Shall we pat you on the back?\" Molly Stewart suggested.\n\nGuest Towels 3 7\nFlopsy laughed. She shook her head and pounded her chest. She motioned for them to go on. She would have liked to hear more about this subject, but there was nothing more about Flopsy\u2019s school life that her friends would boast to a former teacher. It wouldn't be fitting.\n\n\"I wouldn't pry if I asked about your school work, Flopsy?\" Mrs. Stewart's eyes were dancing with mischief.\n\nFlopsy made a funny little face and shook her head. They all laughed, even Flopsy.\n\n\"Well, I'm simply rotten in Latin. I've had to take each half twice. I hate algebra. But I like French a lot,\" Flopsy said.\n\n\"I am not taking French. I'm taking the Commercial Course,\" Fleurette put in. \"But I know a lot of French from Flopsy. She talks it all the time. Tres beaucoup means \u2018very much',\" Fleurette giggled.\n\nFleurette is on the basketball team and she's a whiz.\nShe won her 'H'. Flopsy must boast about the girls. They had been very kind to her. \"Alice is the best, really, in French. She always gets more than ninety every day.\"\n\n\"Now tell me about some of the others? Mary Howard?\"\n\nThe faces of the three girls showed various degrees of disapproval.\n\n\"She is going to be valedictorian when we graduate. She is always on the super-honor roll.\"\n\n\"And must you make a face over that?\" Molly Stewart teased, a funny little twinkle in her eyes. \"I'll be proud of Mary Howard some day,\" but her tongue was in her cheek. She was teasing these former students of hers, who could never aspire to such high scholastic honors.\n\n\"I suppose it is,\" Flopsy answered woefully, with a long drawn out sigh. They all burst into laughter.\n\"\u201cTell me about the other little girl you used to have with you, a cute, chubby, little thing with a long stiff name. Poor child, her name never suited her.\"\n\n\"Euphemia Green!\" Flopsy giggled. \"But we never called her that! She's just Dottie Green.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, Euphemia! And does that timid child stand up for herself in the big classes down at High School?\"\n\n\"You should see her! She gets fiery red and chokes and sputters. She's the funniest of all in Westmore's class. Westmore scares her right out of her wits!\"\n\n\"Westmore?\" Molly Stewart repeated, puzzled.\n\nFlopsy's blood ran cold, and shivers played tag up and down her spine. She'd done it. Her mother had told her she'd be ashamed some day, if she persisted in following the example of some of her schoolmates. And she was, right now. She wished she were standing beside Dottie instead.\"\n\"on a trap door, and that it would open up and let her down into a dungeon. But the girls had thought it so daring to speak of their High School teachers by their last names.\n\n\"Miss Westmore,\" Flopsy corrected weakly, \"I should have said Miss Westmore.\"\n\nAlice and Fleurette had a deep feeling of compassion for her. They looked, and felt, just as guilty as though they had made this mistake.\n\n\"Oh, yes, Miss Westmore!\" Molly Stewart repeated. Her eyes were lowered. She knew that her young guests were very much embarrassed. She looked up with an innocent and kindly expression. \"Do tell me about Bill Forbes.\"\n\nThe three girls, with great relief, praised Bill extravagantly. Bill would make every boy and girl at School Number Nine proud that he had graduated from it. Everyone said that by next year he'd be the star\"\nThe High School coach relied on the football player to help Hamilton rank in the Class A state. For the next hour, they chattered and jabbered. Molly Stewart enjoyed herself. She read parts of Babbie's last letter to them, sharing how Babbie missed her former classmates. Babbie had spent her entire life on the Rawhide ranch after her first and only year at Hamilton High.\n\n\"How is Babbie? Is she well now? Does her leg ever bother her?\" Flopsy asked as they stood at the door. \"She never complains in her letters to me.\" Molly's mother wrote that Babbie was perfectly well but very lonely. She missed everyone terribly. Make sure to write to her often. I hope we sell the ranch soon, and then she can return to Hamilton.\n\nMolly opened the door and looked out.\nThe girls looked disappointed when they heard my baby was a boy. But I'm glad I don't have a daughter to worry about with three girls. You're going out into this damp, cold, miserable evening with no hats, coats open, and silly socks and bare legs. Maybe, when my daughter grows up \u2013 if I have one \u2013 the times will have changed, and girls will dress more sensibly. The girls giggled, and each in turn threw their arms about Molly Stewart's neck and kissed her rapturously. She was a darling, and they felt they never would or could have a teacher again whom they loved as much! The warm feeling of intimacy during those last days at School Number Nine had gone forever. We had too many teachers now and shared them with far too many other students.\n\"She's my favorite teacher. And I bet she will be the only one I'll ever love,\" Flopsy stammered as they turned down the street toward their homes.\n\nChapter Two\nFlopsy Is Perplexed\n\nMrs. Moore had decided during the summer that Flopsy should have everything in her bedroom to make her homework easy. She had been given a fine new desk and a student lamp. She had a big comfortable chair, in which she could curl up and study, and a straight chair for her desk.\n\nBut Mrs. Moore had not viewed one acquisition with any great satisfaction. A neighbor, who was moving away, had given Flopsy a small radio. Mrs. Moore had looked dubious when Flopsy insisted on taking it up to her bedroom, but Flopsy had argued that it would be \"peachy\" to chant her Latin conjugations to soft, low music. Mrs. Moore was unconvinced, but submissive.\nAfter dinner that night, Flopsy gathered her books and bid a light and airy farewell to her family. Eager to be alone, she had many things to consider. The second the door was closed, she attacked her treasurer's book. Her parents had insisted that if she accepted this office, she must keep a proper record of the money she received. There were now half-year promotions at Hamilton High, and Flopsy was grateful she did not have to collect dues from the entire Sophomore class, but only from the Sophomore B's. There were fifty-three in her class, and the dues were ten cents a month. Mr. Moore had brought home a bank with a key to it for Flopsy, but he held the key. Flopsy was supposed to drop each ten cents into it as she received it. She had no idea how much money she actually had.\nAllie was in the bank. Her book stated she ought to have twelve dollars and seventy-five cents, and she earnestly hoped that her book and her bank were in perfect agreement. But she had very grave doubts. Some of her classmates hadn't paid any dues. Others, she felt sure, had paid when they hadn't, but she had always given receipts upon request. Twice, Flopsy had \"borrowed\" from the money she had in her pocket. She thought she had paid it back. But, oh dear, had she? She shook the bank and wished to goodness she could smash it. Then she turned to the book again. She opened her purse. In it were two ten cent pieces and two nickels. This was very confusing. Only two girls had given her dues, or had there been three? There was a third girl with them. What had she said? Flopsy, herself, couldn't have paid her dues because she hadn't.\nShe took the bus home from school and had saved five cents from her lunch money. This was a big mix-up! Why had she ever agreed to be treasurer? It was a worse headache than her Latin. She checked off Lois Crane's name and then chewed on her pen. What was that other girl's name?\n\n\"Oh, for Pete's sake,\" she groaned, \"I'll just have to wait and see who asks for a receipt. That's all there is to it! And I'll never, never be treasurer again!\" She banged the book shut.\n\nIn February, there would be new officers elected, and Flopsy hoped she'd be elected to something else. Then she remembered Fleurette's flippant remark about jail.\n\nWell, she hoped she'd be elected to something provided she wasn't in jail on election day. She went over to her radio and turned it on, whirling the dial around until she found a station.\nShe found a dance orchestra. A happy thought came to her quickly. She deserved this bright and cheery thought after that moment of deep gloom. She opened her door softly and went out into the hall. Then she closed it carefully and tiptoed to her mother's room. Cautiously, she opened the closet door and felt around in the dark. Flopsy not only felt what she was searching for, but heard it. She loved the sound of that rustling taffeta. Quickly, she dragged a garment off its hanger and scooted for her room with her booty. Once behind her closed door, she eyed what she had in her hands lovingly and admiringly. It was her mother's hostess gown. Mrs. Moore had thought it a very silly gift and had worn it only once or twice. A wealthy aunt in a distant city had sent it to her the previous Christmas.\nFlopsy slipped it on over her school dress. She adored the way it felt. Fascinated by the full and rippling skirt that fell to the tips of her toes and trailed a bit on the floor in the back, she rustled over to her mirror and surveyed herself with purring satisfaction.\n\n\"Just scrumptious!\" she murmured. She picked up her hand mirror and twisted about until she had reveled in every possible reflection of herself, profile, three-quarters and back views. She squirmed just to hear the stiff silk rustle. Then Flopsy laid her hand mirror down and peered into the one over her bureau.\n\nShe no longer hated her red hair. When she had been in grammar school, it had been an ever-present agony and misery. But too many people these days told her it was beautiful, and she was beginning to believe them.\nHer glowing, shimmering curls fell to her shoulders, and the lamp on her bureau brought out their deep ruddiness. Her hair had grown darker in this last year or so, but had lost none of its life.\n\n\"But it's not fiery!\" she soothed herself. \"It's really a nice dark red.\"\n\nFlopsy picked up her hand mirror again and swished over to her comfortable chair. She felt that she was literally sailing in this voluminous, billowy creation. She leaned forward in her chair, and held her mirror before her face. She thought of Janet Dudley and of Janet's eyebrows. She made believe she was plucking her own eyebrows to a thin line, the way movie stars did theirs. She twisted her face into a frown occasionally, as if she were hurting herself. This operation must hurt! After her eyebrows had been plucked to her satisfaction, and her lively imagination enabled her to complete the rest of her makeup routine.\nShe took up an imaginary lipstick and touched up her pretty and generous mouth. With her little finger, she carefully rubbed the lipstick in and wiped off the surplus. Flopsy had seen this process many times in the movies, and it had impressed her. Goodness, would she ever be old enough to really and truly do all this? Fourteen and a half was an awfully old age. She was too old for this childish behavior, like rough-housing with her two small brothers, and too young for at least a million interesting and exciting things. Flopsy laid her mirror down with a sigh. She wished she were seventeen. How exciting it must be to be seventeen! She stretched out luxuriously and tried to picture what she would be like when she reached this highly desirable age. She would be graceful, elegant, and mature.\nShe had never been invited to a dance, nor had Fleurette. Alice had been asked once by Frank Gordon. Flopsy made a face. Frank was nothing; his face was spotty, and he was the clumsiest dancer in the whole wide world. It annoyed her beyond words when Alice acted superior because he had given her a bid. She would stay home from dances forever rather than go with a boy like Frank. No one had ever heard her admit that she wanted to go to parties with boys. She was very fussy and particular. Now, if she caught her breath. There was a boy in her algebra class who intrigued her. Although he might not be very bright, he was at least fascinating. He ought to have been a Junior A, but he wasn't.\nI'm taking Sophomore B Algebra. The girls were infatuated with him, and they showed it. But she never would. They were making themselves look silly and foolish. But not she! However, she had to admit that she would have found algebra positively unbearable if he weren't in the room. Often, when we were in the gym after school, boys asked me to dance. The Sophomores were having a class party right before Christmas. Suppose I didn't get a bid? I shivered. The radio program had changed. The music was now my very favorite dance program. I jumped to my feet and began to tap dance. I forgot everything, even that my father and mother were sitting directly beneath me in the living room. I pounded harder and harder. I had to. The music seemed to demand it.\n\nThere was a knock on my door.\nFlopsy whirled around in a panic and hastily threw off the hostess gown. She waved it around. Where should she put it? She opened her closet door and tossed it in.\n\n\"Who is that?\" she gasped. \"Who is out there?\"\n\n\"Just your poor old father. He's taken on a new job, he's the inquiring reporter.\" Mr. Moore opened the door and stuck his head in. \"Pardon me, please, Mademoiselle \u2014 but \u2014 \"\n\n\"What is it?\" Flopsy gasped.\n\n\"I spoke in French, please note. I asked you to please pardon me. My French is terrible, I know, but it's your favorite language these days. I shall continue in my native tongue which is English. Maybe you will understand me better.\"\n\n\"I am doing my homework.\" Flopsy spoke with dignity.\n\n\"When your mother and I fixed up this room, so that you could do your homework in peace and quiet, we forgot to...\"\n\"We're concerned you might have gymnastics homework. Is the room large enough? It seems a bit cluttered for pole-vaulting practice.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear!\" Flopsy sighed deeply.\n\n\"It wasn't pole-vaulting, then? Perhaps it was the broad jump or \u2014 \"\n\nFlopsy was perplexed (47)\n\n\"Oh, I was just relaxing a little and doing some tap dancing. I stiffen up if I sit still for too long. I feel better after moving around.\"\n\n\"You don't say! That's amazing! Astounding! I'll have to tell your mother at once. She was worried, but I regret to report not in a better state. In fact, I left her on the verge of collapse.\"\n\n\"Oh, jinks!\" Flopsy sat down with a sigh of resignation.\n\n\"And the music! Music and tap dancing! Just imagine, it's helping you do algebra better. Your mother has been needlessly worrying.\"\n\"I've completed my algebra homework. I finished it during a study period at school. This will make my mother happy. I'm glad I went against my comfort to do it, even though I wasn't concerned about your algebra. I reproached myself for not building a gymnasium at home. Au revoir, via cherie.\" He blew her a kiss and closed the door.\n\nFlopsy sank into her big chair and sighed. This was her third and deepest sigh. Against her will, her mind was forced onto her algebra homework. It was a mess, and she couldn't turn it in. She was too tired to redo it. She decided it would be best if she didn't move again for a while. She thought about that boy in the algebra class, Wilton Locke.\"\nShe had heard that he had been suspended from a military school. She had noticed him only once, when he had laughed more loudly than the others at one of her especially silly remarks. That was something, anyway. She had more fun thinking about him than Alice could have going out with Frank Gordon. Frank Gordon! She turned up her nose. She picked up her Latin book and stared absentmindedly at the page containing her assignment. Then she slammed the book shut and stood up. She had done enough for one night. She went to her closet and gathered up her mother's hostess gown. On her way out of the room, she leaned over and clipped off her radio. She was finished with her homework for this night, all except history. Her history book was downstairs. She took tremendous pride in boasting that she\nFlopsy had never had to study history, only reading it once was sufficient for her. Her history marks were always above ninety. As Flopsy went into her mother's room to hang up the hostess gown, she promised herself she would borrow it every night. It made homework so much easier, almost thrilling.\n\nThe next morning on her way to school, Flopsy hadn't gone more than a block when she heard someone calling her.\n\n\"Flora! Flora Moore \u2013 wait for me.\"\n\nFlopsy turned. It was Rosemary Brewster. Flopsy admired Rosemary very much and felt pleased that Rosemary should be anxious to walk with her. Rosemary was a Junior, and that in itself was important. But she was also a very lovely looking girl, with the palest of blonde hair and deep blue eyes with long black lashes. She had only lived in town a short time.\nFlopsy liked Rosemary's friends and clothes, and Rosemary's ways and manners. Flopsy felt decidedly flattered that Rosemary and her friends seemed to be singling her out for attention these days. They were always stopping to talk to her. They would rush up to Flopsy in the corridors of the school in the brief intervals between classes, and would walk along with her. All of this made Flopsy feel important, but, at the same time, puzzled her. Did they really like her so very much?\n\nRosemary slipped her arm through Flopsy's this morning and greeted her with a warm smile.\n\n\"Tell me, Flora, do you mind if I call you Flopsy? Everyone seems to, and we, that is my friends, think it is a precious name. It is so cute and funny.\"\n\nFlopsy was embarrassed for an instant. She used to hate \"Flopsy,\" but now that she was in High School,\nShe rather enjoyed it. It was different. There wasn't another girl in Hamilton with a nickname so funny and distinctive. But to have Rosemary's friends like it too, confused her. Why did they like it so much?\n\n\"Of course - please - of - course - \" she stuttered. \"You know my friends, don't you Flopsy? You know Joan Bassett and Helen Putnam? I know you do, because they talk about you all the time. They rave!\"\n\nFlopsy was now too overcome for words. She nodded. She longed to be able to tell Rosemary that her friends raved about her, but she couldn't. Only Alice admired Rosemary. Fleurette and Dottie thought these girls a bunch of \"snips.\" Maybe her friends were jealous.\n\nRosemary, Joan and Helen were never snippy, at least not to her! They were bewilderingly nice. Rosemary didn't seem to expect Flopsy to do any talking.\nFlopsy was puzzled by Rosemary's question. \"Yes, she's one of my best friends,\" Flopsy replied.\n\nRosemary seemed intense. \"She's so different from you, so different from Alice Holt,\" she persisted.\n\n\"Why?\" Flopsy asked bluntly. \"I don't know what you mean.\"\n\n\"Joan says she's very ungrammatical,\" Rosemary explained, her voice smooth. \"She heard her say 'She done it,' or 'she seen it'.\"\n\n\"She doesn't say it very often,\" Flopsy protested. \"She only forgets once in a while. Her mother says it, too.\"\n\n\"That's just what we mean,\" Rosemary returned.\n\"It\u2019s her mother too. Her mother dyes her hair, and talks very loudly in the stores, doesn\u2019t she? And Fleurette sometimes wears clothes as loud as her mother\u2019s voice.\u201d Flopsy unlinked her arm from Rosemary\u2019s.\n\n\"Mrs. Muldoon is very kind and I like her, and I like Fleurette too \u2014 \" her voice broke, her eyes snapped. \"Oh, Flopsy, I\u2019m so sorry! Truly I am! Please forgive me. I shouldn\u2019t have said it. I never saw you without a smile on your face before. Please laugh again, Flopsy. I must say Fleurette has pretty hair and pretty eyes,\u201d Rosemary's manner was ingratiating.\n\nFlopsy did not answer. She was simply furious, she told herself, furious!\n\n\"I want you to like my friends,\" Rosemary coaxed. \"And I ought to like yours. I am sorry about what I said about Fleurette. By the way, I hear you are going to meet Peter.\"\nFlopsy was on the editorial staff of the 'Hamiltonian'. All of my friends, ten of them, are going to vote for you! Flopsy felt like saying with Alice-in-Wonderland, \"this is getting curiouser and curiouser.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" Flopsy smiled, \"thank them.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Rosemary broke off abruptly, as an automobile horn sounded close by. \"There is Jack Merritt. He wants to drive me to school. Now, Flopsy, please, please forgive what I said about Fleurette, and remember only that my friends think you are adorable.\" Rosemary hurried to the curb and into a roadster. She leaned out and waved a charming goodbye.\n\nFlopsy walked along, her thoughts in a jumbled heap. She was pleased, flattered, annoyed, and irritated. But, on the whole, she was flattered. She wished she could find Alice. She had to talk this over with someone, or she'd burst. But Alice was nowhere in sight.\nThe girls approached with broad grins on their faces. \"Didn't you pay your dues, Paulette?\" Lois asked, after collecting their receipts from Flopsy. \"I thought you did.\"\n\nPaulette looked blank for a minute and then spoke up quickly, \"Why I think I did, didn't I, Miss Moore?\"\n\nFlopsy colored. She liked being called \"Miss Moore.\" But she was sure this girl hadn't paid her dues.\n\n\"Did you pay?\" Flopsy asked, her brows together.\nPaulette Muggesser, \"What's your name?\" I asked, puzzled.\n\"My name is Paulette Muggesser. I think I paid. Didn't I, Lois? I can't really remember.\"\n\"I think you did. You said you were going to,\" Lois replied.\nPaulette Muggesser. Flopsy stared at her, having never heard this funny name before. She couldn't even remember having seen the girl's freckled, snub-nosed face before! Suddenly, Flopsy remembered the two extra nickels. Oh, dear! She wished she could resign her office on the spot.\n\"I don't think you did,\" Elsie put in.\nFlopsy gave her a warm and grateful glance.\n\"But I am sure now! I did!\" Paulette spoke positively. She was more certain every minute.\nThis was a pretty pickle.\n\"What did you give me, two nickels or a dime?\" Flopsy asked cautiously.\nPaulette hesitated. \"I think it was a dime.\"\n\n\"Well, I didn't have three dimes,\" Flopsy said, her face brightening. \"I only had two dimes and two nickels. I know positively that Elsie and Lois gave me dimes.\"\n\n\"Then it must have been two nickels,\" Paulette insisted.\n\n\"I don't think you paid,\" Elsie persisted.\n\n\"I think she did,\" Lois contradicted.\n\n\"And I know now that I did,\" Paulette declared, her tone brooking no further contradiction.\n\n\"Oh, all right!\" Flopsy snapped. \"I'll give you a receipt later. I am sorry!\"\n\nThere was an uncomfortable silence.\n\n\"Maybe you didn't pay,\" Lois weakened.\n\n\"Well, I did!\" Paulette Muggesser could not be shaken from this declaration.\n\nFlopsy gave her a grim little smile. \"You'll get your receipt.\"\n\"I\u2019ll bet anything, Paulette, you didn\u2019t pay,\u201d Lois turned around in her view. She liked Flopsy and didn\u2019t want to be on the opposite side of any fence.\n\n\u201cNever mind, Lois. It\u2019s all right,\u201d Flopsy smiled. \u201cI guess Paulette is right. Do you mind if I run along? I want to catch up with Dottie Green and Mary Howard.\u201d Flopsy never turned her head again until she was walking with her friends from grammar school days. When she looked back, Paulette, Elsie, and Lois were standing still, and to all appearances, they were having a rip-roaring argument. But Flopsy felt it would not help her. Paulette Muggesser would never give in.\n\n\u201cOh, Mary,\u201d Flopsy asked pleadingly, \u201cdid you do your algebra?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d Mary Howard frowned. What a silly question! She always did her homework, and Flopsy ought to know it by this time.\n\"Wasn't it awful? I've just been comparing my answers with Mary's, and I've got half of them wrong. I won't have any time to correct them,\" Dottie said forlornly. \"Let me compare my answers too,\" Flopsy burst out eagerly. Mary never minded \"comparing.\" She always felt so superior when she was doing it. Flopsy pulled a dirty mud-stained paper out of her loose-leaf notebook.\n\n\"Don't tell me that that is your homework in algebra!\" Mary's eyes widened in shocked surprise. \"You'll get killed if you try turning that in.\"\n\n\"Well, how could I help it?\" Flopsy retorted. \"It was just an accident. You know how snowy and wet it was yesterday. I was running to get in out of the wet, when my book fell on the sidewalk. I hope he doesn't think I'd walk slowly just to guard my precious homework.\"\nMary and Flopsy worked on algebra problems. Mary asked, \"What's your answer to the first problem?\" Mary answered, \"Plus 2 Y.\" Flopsy moistened her pencil and wrote on her paper. \"Oh, lands!\" she exclaimed. Mary gave the second answer and peeked over Flopsy's shoulder. \"Oh, jinks!\" Flopsy expressed, perplexed. Mary continued asking and answering until they finished all ten problems. Flopsy moistened her pencil ten times and marked her paper. She alternated between \"Oh, Jinks!\" and \"Oh, Lands!\" Mary asked sarcastically, \"Did you get them all right?\" Flopsy replied, \"Not all!\" She squeezed Dottie's arm and added, \"You'll be on the 'Hamiltonian' won't you, Flopsy? And you'll be able to put anything you want in that.\"\nMary looked at her friend hopefully. She wanted to see her name in the \"Look Who's Here!\" column. It was the first thing students checked when they opened their school papers. The squibs could be a little caustic, but they were always exciting. Mary hoped for some comment on her high records. She wouldn't mind being teased about a boy, as some girls were, but she knew none of the boys paid attention to her. Or, rather, she didn't bother with them.\n\nFlopsy scanned the crowds of boys and girls on the streets. Where was Alice? She had to tell her about Rosemary. She had a feeling she and Alice might have something in common.\nShe didn't see Alice until they were in their \"home room.\" With her lips, she shaped the word, \"Wait.\" She pointed to the door and then repeated, \"Wait.\" When the bell sounded for the first change of classes, Flopsy made a beeline for Alice. \"What's the matter?\" Alice asked breathlessly. \"What's on your mind?\" \"I'll walk down the hall with you. Come on, I'll tell you,\" Flopsy replied. \"I am going up to drawing, and you're going to Latin. We can't go in the same direction.\" \"Oh yes we can. I'll go up to the drawing room with you. I simply have to tell you\u2014something,\" Flopsy insisted. \"Listen to this,\" Flopsy put her arm through Alice's and they slowly walked down the corridor. The boys and girls were permitted to talk quietly in the hall as they changed classes. Alice was thrilled. A spot of bright color burned on each cheek.\n\"I think Rosemary is a doll. I am glad she likes me. I like all of those girls. They are the nicest in the school or in the town. Well, I like them too. But I think it's mean that they talk about Fleurette. How do they get that way? Flopsy snapped. \"Oh, I can see just exactly what they mean. She does say \u2018she done it,\u2019 or even \u2018she hasn\u2019t no more \u2014 this or that.\u2019\" The argument Flopsy had anticipated was coming \u2013 had come. \"Well, don\u2019t you dare tell me you don\u2019t like Fleurette. You\u2019ve been to her house lots of times, and Mrs. Muldoon has been very sweet to you and me.\" Flopsy's voice was raised hotly. They were now climbing up to the second floor, to the drawing room in the opposite direction from Flopsy's Latin room. Flopsy Is Perplexed (57) \"Well, I can see \u2013 \" \"You said that before. You ought to stop going with her.\"\nAlice faltered. \"Well, those other girls really come from nice families.\"\n\n\"You're a big snob!\" Flopsy's voice was now very high and thoroughly angry.\n\n\"I can't help it if I am. I am particular. That's all.\" Alice had a satisfied smirk on her face.\n\n\"Don't take \u2018snob\u2019 as a compliment. It's just the opposite. Look it up in the dictionary. My father made me once. You'll learn something.\"\n\nThe hall was nearly empty now. A bell sounded. They were outside the classroom in which Alice was due.\n\n\"Listen, Flopsy, Rosemary is a darling. Don't get mad at her. It's going to be so exciting. I'll explain later.\"\n\n\"Explain what?\" Flopsy asked coldly.\n\nAnother bell sounded.\n\"Flopsy gasped and rushed down the long hall, nearly falling down a flight of stairs. She dashed madly down another long corridor. \"Miss Moore!\" a voice roared from somewhere, shaking the High School building on its foundations. \"Where do you think you are\u2014 on the track?\" Flopsy stood still in her tracks. She did not dare move even her eyes. A man's rapid steps were coming up behind her. \"Miss Moore!\" Flopsy turned. It was \"Bulldog Drummond.\" He was the head of the Science Department, who had acquired the nickname not only because his name was Drummond but because he looked and acted like a bulldog. Flopsy stood looking at him meekly. \"Who is your home room teacher?\" \"Miss Anderson.\" \"Give her this report. Tell her you are to be detained tonight.\" He handed Flopsy a slip of paper.\"\n\"Yes, Mr. Drummond,\" Flopsy sang out.\n\"I'm not at all sure I like your tone,\" she said, almost choking. She fully expected him to start tearing her apart, like a real bulldog. Her knees shook.\n\"Go to your class, and don't you ever try running through these halls again,\" he ordered.\nFlopsy almost fell into the Latin room.\n\"Where have you been, Miss Moore? You're late,\" Miss Bellow snapped.\nBut Flopsy was not afraid of Miss Bellow. She tumbled into her seat and looked up with a sweet smile. With one hand, she waved an airy gesture in the direction of the hall.\n\"I was detained by Mr. Drummond. We were just having a little talk,\" she explained.\nMiss Bellow eyed her suspiciously, then turned her attention to a book on her desk. Flopsy pulled the corners of her mouth down and rolled her eyes heavenward.\nMiss Bellows looked up at Flopsy, her expression innocent and mild, yet suspicious. She was certain she knew where the source of the snicker in the room could be placed, but decided not to press the matter. The algebra class was during second period. Flopsy approached the room with her heart pounding a little harder in happy anticipation. She didn't look forward to her algebra lesson, but she did look forward to seeing Wilton Locke. She always searched the room with her eyes immediately to see if he was at his desk.\n\nMr. Van Pelt, their algebra teacher, was a fine teacher, they all had to admit, and no one ever \"got away\" with anything in his class. But he had an eccentric habit.\nMr. Van Pelt's stern gaze and command of \"Less noise!\" brought the class to an instant silence. Students took their seats and spoke in hushed whispers. Flopsy noticed Wilton Locke in class, whispering to Hazel Manley. \"Less noise!\" Mr. Van Pelt ordered, and students obeyed. They took out their homework, exchanged it with the neighbor on the right, and Mr. Van Pelt read the answers. The class became active with rustling papers, but Mr. Van Pelt demanded \"QUIET!\" He opened his answer book, and the class fell silent.\n\nMr. Van Pelt: \"Less noise! Take your seats. Get out your homework and exchange it with the neighbor on the right. I will read the answers. You correct them.\"\n\nStudents: [hubbub and rustling of papers]\n\nMr. Van Pelt: \"QUIET!\"\n\n[Mr. Van Pelt opens his answer book, and the class subsides into silence]\n\nMr. Van Pelt: [60. Almost Fifteen]\n\nJim Chester, the boy with Flopsy's paper, stood up.\nAfter the sixth answer had been given, Mr. Van Pelt waved his arm. \"What is it, Chester?\" he peered over his glasses with a sour expression. \"This paper seems to have a lot of right answers, but they don't belong to the right questions. Sit down, and don't ask silly questions. Mark them wrong.\" Jim Chester shrugged his shoulders, put out his hands in a hopeless gesture, and then sat down. Mr. Van Pelt caught sight of Flopsy's muddy paper. \"Hold that paper up so we can all see it. We'd all enjoy seeing anything as charming as it is!\" Jim Chester waved the paper high above his head. \"And the right answers to the wrong questions, on that paper!\" The class was at once in a not unusual uproar. Flopsy spied Wilton Locke out of the corner of one eye. He was nearly rolling in the aisles with mirth. \"Less noise!\"\nThe class subsided. Giggles here and there could not be suppressed.\n\n\"The owner of that masterpiece in mud will please stand.\"\n\nFlopsy stood. Her eyes were lowered as though she were in an agony of embarrassment and contrition. But her classmates knew her better. They again went into boisterous shouts of laughter.\n\n\"LESS NOISE!\"\n\nThe class turned off its laughter.\n\n\"Flopsy, you get zero. Zero, do you hear? A cipher. Nothing! Absolutely nothing! And also, you will do that paper all over again and turn it in with tomorrow's homework. But you will still get zero.\"\n\nFlopsy cupped her chin in her hands and looked straight ahead. Her expression was almost heartbreaking. But it only provoked more raucous laughter from her classmates.\n\n\"LESS NOISE!\"\n\nThe class turned off its laughter once again. One.\nMr. Van Pelt was adjusting radio dials and switching between programs. The current program was solemn, possibly a serious discussion on a disease. Flopsy was content, purring to herself after putting on a good show for Wilton Locke. That afternoon, she waited grimly for Alice to find out what was going on. Alice seemed to think Rosemary had something interesting on her mind, and Flopsy wanted to know what it was.\n\nAlice's face, upon meeting Flopsy, was unreadable. Flopsy couldn't decipher Alice's humor or thoughts.\n\n\"I looked up 'snob' in the dictionary, and that's not what I am. 'Snob' means something else to me,\" Alice tried to keep her anger in check.\n\"I'm not vulgar, I called you that because you were acting superior about Fleurette and only meant \"nicer\" because they have better clothes. Yes, I like Rosemary and her friends. Why are they being so sweet and nice to me all of a sudden?\" I don't dare tell you what I think it is. Please, please be.\"\n\"Nice to meet Rosemary. She's a grand person. You'll have a good time with those girls. I'm not going to stop going out with Fleurette just because they don't think she's much. I'll bet anything we can make them really like Fleurette. Fleurette can be a barrel of fun sometimes. That's just what we will do. They'd like Fleurette if they knew her. She couldn't help being flattered by Rosemary's attentions, even though she'd hate to admit it. Her friends at Hamilton weren't the nicest girls in her opinion, but she would have them as friends without giving up Fleurette or hurting her. This was all a little mysterious, and she was\"\nFlopsy was elected to the position of associate editor of the Hamiltonian by an overwhelming majority. She felt sorry for the girl running against her, a mousey little thing whom few students knew. Suggested by one of the English teachers due to her high rating in that subject, Flopsy herself was unusually good in English, but also there was no other Sophomore girl with her popularity. That afternoon, she was in a radiant mood as she walked home from school. Everyone, or practically everyone, had congratulated her. All of Rosemary's.\nfriends had crowded about her, and every one of her former classmates at School Number Nine. The students of the Alexander Hamilton High School were intensely interested in, and proud of their school paper. It had taken many prizes for its general appearance and was considered one of the best school papers in the state.\n\nJust before she said goodbye to Fleurette that afternoon, Flopsy was so pleased with herself and life in general, that she decided to do her friend a good turn. And she intended to do it in the best way possible. She slipped her arm through Fleurette\u2019s.\n\n\u201cYou know Rosemary Brewster, don\u2019t you? She\u2019s a Junior? And she is as pretty as a peach.\u201d\n\nFleurette looked less happy.\n\n\u201cYes, I know her. At least I\u2019ve seen her. She\u2019s always \u2014 Well, she\u2019s always \u2014 \u201d Fleurette didn\u2019t want to finish.\n\"She's always making a fuss over you,\" Fleurette quoted, rolling her eyes. \"I think she's very snooty and high hat. I've tried to speak to her, but she never seems to remember me.\" Flopsy blushed, wishing Fleurette wouldn't even try to speak to Rosamary under the circumstances.\n\n\"I think she remembers you. Last week, she said she knew you, and that you had pretty hair and pretty eyes,\" Fleurette continued, smiling with pleasure.\n\n\"Honest?\" Flopsy asked, anxiously watching Fleurette.\n\n\"Honestly! But she asked me why you sometimes said, 'you done it,' and 'you seen it'.\"\n\n\"I done what? I seen what?\" Fleurette's own color mounted. \"What did she say I done?\"\n\n\"Fleurette Muldoon! You know better. You hardly ever, ever say that. Why do you?\" Flopsy asked miserably.\n\n\"Well, I think it's important to know what that snip says I have done. Whatever it is, it isn't true!\"\n\"This isn't what you've done that counts. It's your English. A hot, angry red flamed into Fleurette's face. \"My English!\" Flopsy went on wretchedly. \"You should say, 'I have done it,' or 'I have seen it,' or 'I did it.' \" Flopsy's heart nearly turned over in horror. Two tears rolled down Fleurette's cheeks. She turned her head away. Never before had she seen tears in Fleurette's eyes. Fleurette quickly swallowed them and spoke with an effort. \"I do know better, and you know it. That was just a slip. You're a funny friend to let her... I didn't let her, I told her you hardly ever... Oh, I did! Really I did! Is it a crime? Did you have to fight with her about me? Tell her I don't care what she thinks. I hate her and all her...\"\nFriends, I can see what they're doing. They're trying to keep you from being my friend. I can see it every day, now. I'm not good enough for them! I'm not good enough for you, Fleurette exclaimed, her voice rising.\n\nFleurette! Flopsy's own voice broke. Please, please. I don't know what it's all about. But I promise you I'll never let them break up our friendship.\n\nThey like Alice Holt, Fleurette's eyes were misty, and her lips quivered.\n\nOh, yes, Flopsy admitted, and then went on desperately, Alice Holt has lived in this town so long that everyone thinks her father owns half of it. And everyone knows her father, Judge Holt. I've lived here since I was born. You've only lived here, well, not two years.\n\nRosemary Brewster hasn't lived here a long time.\nFlopsy drew a long breath. This, too, was true. What could she say next?\n\n\"Well,\" she faltered, \"the Brewsters know everybody who has lived here a long time. And my father is Dr. Brewster. He is an eye specialist.\"\n\nFleurette said nothing. Flopsy squirmed uncomfortably. Fleurette's silence was even harder to bear than her angry protests.\n\n\"Don't think I'm crazy about Rosemary because I'm not. You shouldn't get mad at me because she talks to me. You walk to school lots of times with Esther Schaffer and Vivian Harris!\"\n\nFleurette moved her shoulders irritably.\n\n\"Oh, those girls!\" her voice was filled with scorn, \"who are they?\"\n\n\"They think you're wonderful,\" Flopsy was being wily.\n\n\"What do I care?\"\n\n\"Oh, lands, Fleurette! This isn't my fault!\"\n\n\"Well, don't worry about it, then. Go with Rosemary.\"\nFlopsy stood watching as Fleurette marched off with her chin in the air. A wretched mix-up! When her mother caught sight of her face as Flopsy came in, her heart stood still.\n\n\"Flopsy, you weren't elected! Don't let it depress you, my darling. After all, I do think you have too much outside work right now. Your studies will suffer in the end.\"\n\n\"I was elected. I ran away with it.\" Flopsy said shortly.\n\n\"Come, tell me about it. Someone has hurt your feelings. My dear, we never can, in this world, expect our friends and our nearest and dearest to take our successes in just the way we would want them to.\" Mrs. Moore felt that probably one of her \"friends\" had belittled this new honor.\n\n\"Well, that's not it,\" and Flopsy kept her face in a stubborn silence.\n\"Although Alice said she knew I'd be elected, she wouldn't have noticed because I bothered with all sorts of people. That sounds like Alice, I'm afraid. I wouldn't give it a second thought. You've known Alice so long that you know her ways and manners. Your friendship has survived many such remarks. It isn't Alice. It's Fleurette. Slowly, Flopsy told her mother the story of the preceding weeks. She was afraid she couldn't make it clear. It wasn't clear to her at all.\n\n\"I'm sorry for Fleurette,\" Mrs. Moore spoke slowly. \"I don't like to see friendships broken up for such a poor reason. Perhaps it will be temporary. I hope so. And, my precious child, you did a very reckless thing, even if you meant to be loyal and kind, when you corrected Fleurette's English.\"\n\n\"I only did it because \u2014 \" Flopsy choked.\"\nI know why you did it, and it will be something that Fleurette will resent and brood over for a long time. It will rankle every time anything brings it to her mind. She would like to feel confident that those girls had no good reason to feel superior to her, and you let her know that, in one social respect, she was inferior. Few of us can stand feeling inferior. Flopsy burst into tears.\n\n\"Why, sweetheart!\" her mother put her arms around her, \"Don't cry. You know Fleurette well enough to know that she will not make herself sick over this. She will battle you girls right back, even if she is hurt. And then you will get mad, and cease to be hurt yourself.\"\n\nFlopsy went to her room to do her homework that night with a heavy weight on her heart. She did not finish it.\nShe went to her mother's room for the hostess gown. She didn't turn on her radio. She studied instead, focusing on her Latin and algebra. Life was grim and real at the moment.\n\nShe picked up Janet Dudley's last letter and re-read parts of it.\n\n\"There's a girl here, Sunny Whiteside, who reminds me of you. But she's not as pretty as you, so pay me a compliment in your next letter. You owe me one, you big meany. And Sunny doesn't have half your pep. But she's popular! She's been invited to every dance or party that either of the two big military academies near here has given. Her father is the Lieutenant Governor of the state, and they are rolling in money. But I can't help thinking how popular you'd be if you were here. I've got one boy in mind whom you would like. He's a brother of one of my friends. My roommate just read his letter.\"\n\"this and she says she will have to ask for another room \u2014 my head is so big that it fills the whole space! \"Do write me all the news. Did Babbie Hilton ever come back? I may have a dance in the spring and I'd love to have Babbie. And I'll think about asking you! Remember me to Alice Holt. Who do you think I met at the Army and Navy game this fall? Diana Dean! That girl from Emerald Lake. Words fail me. Suf- 70 Almost Fifteen. free to say, she looked stunning and she was with the best looking cadet you, or anybody, ever laid their eyes on \u2014 \"Flopsy looked into space when she read this letter. There were no walls to her room. She could see far beyond them. She was surrounded by a dozen of Janet\u2019s boy friends. She picked up Janet\u2019s letter again. One phrase caught her eye. \"Don't you detest a poor orchestra to dance by?\"\"\nI insist on leaving if it doesn't suit me. What kind of orchestra do you have at Hamilton?\n\nWhat kind of orchestra did they have at Hamilton? Oh, goodness! That Sophomore party she was worrying about would have only a group of three local boys. She could see Janet turning her nose up at them and departing in disgust.\n\nWhat a crazy world! People were always turning their noses up at someone or something. She was trying not to think of Fleurette, but her mind went right back to her. Rosemary Brewster looked down on Fleurette's English, and Janet Dudley would look down on the orchestra at the dance.\n\nThe morning after she had been elected to the \"Hamiltonian,\" the telephone rang just as Flopsy hopped out of bed.\n\nMrs. Moore called her.\n\n\"Flopsy! The telephone!\"\nFlopsy wrapped her old bathrobe around her and pattered down stairs in her bare feet. Who could it be, for Pete's sake, at this hour?\n\n\"Hello, honey chile,\" a girl's voice began. \"This is your dear old friend Rosemary. Remember me?\"\n\n\"Why, hello, Rosemary! You're an early bird.\"\n\n\"Well, how are you, my dear little worm? I'm stopping for you on my way to school. Don't leave until I come. Hold everything, because I'll be there. And I am going to gobble you up.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'll wait, Rosemary.\"\n\n\"So long now, precious! I'll be seeing you!\"\n\nFlopsy hung up the receiver slowly and stared at the blank wall near her. Maybe she was going to know soon what all this was about.\nMr. Moore took it all as something very funny. \"You're a newspaper woman now, my dear little redhead. Your friend Rosemary is looking for some publicity in the magazine of which you are now an editor. When she begins telling you that your hair is like burnished copper, and that your eyes are warm and brown, you just put your little red tongue in one cheek and say \u2018Well, come clean. Give it to me right from the shoulder. What do you want\u2019?\u201d Flopsy looked at her mother for affirmation. Was Rosemary being friendly only to get some service done? \"You have only a few minutes to wait now. Don't let your father tease you, Flopsy.\" The doorbell rang. Flopsy had just swallowed a piece of toast and it stuck in her throat. Very red in the face, she went to the door and sputtered, \"Come in, Rosemary, I'll be ready in a minute. Anyway,\"\nI want you to meet my father and mother. Mr. Moore bowed low. \"Rosemary! I like that name. 'Rosemary for remembrance,' you know.\" Rosemary colored and giggled. \"That's from some play, isn't it?\" \"Only a little thing called 'Hamlet,' by some one named Shakespeare.\" Flopsy gathered up her books in a hurry. She wanted to get out. She never knew whether her friends would understand her father. He said such silly and incomprehensible things at times. She had seen him make some girls positively tongue-tied. But not Rosemary. She looked up with a pretty smile. \"I do think I have heard of Hamlet and Shakespeare sounds familiar. My name doesn't always help me, though. I do more forgetting than remembering.\" Flopsy was getting panicky. Her father and Rosemary were getting much too witty. They were making her nervous. She hurried to the door and Rosemary.\nRosemary walked with a radiant smile, her arm linked through Flopsy's. \"Have you heard of Delta Sigma Delta?\" she asked.\n\n\"The what?\" Flopsy questioned in surprise.\n\nRosemary blushed, her pale gold hair framing her face. \"It's our sorority. It's at least ten years old.\"\n\n\"Yes, I think I have,\" Flopsy replied, her eyes widening. \"But we're not allowed to have sororities in High School. Delta Sigma Delta is only for Hamilton High School girls.\"\n\n\"The boys have a fraternity too, the Alpha Phi Psi,\" Rosemary continued. \"You may know some of the boys in it. There's Ted Wallace, Tommy Barnes, Wilton Locke.\"\n\nFlopsy shivered with excitement. \"Wilton Locke's in our algebra class.\"\n\n\"The Delta Sigma Delta and Alpha Phi Psi\"\nI. Flopsy and the Delta Sigma Delta Sorority:\n\nBut I want to tell you about the Delta Sigma Delta. Our chapter is the Alpha chapter. Next year, we are to have a Beta chapter and a Gamma chapter. We are to be in two more high schools. Soon we will be a national sorority. You know most of the girls in our chapter, and don't you like them, Flopsy?\n\nFlopsy's heart was pounding hard.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I do \u2014 very much \u2014 \" she gasped, her eyes rounded, her lips parted breathlessly.\n\n\"Well, they like you. They like you very much. And they'd be proud to have you as a sorority sister.\"\n\n\"A sorority sister!\" Flopsy echoed.\n\n\"Yes, that's what we want. You will accept the 'bid,' won't you?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes!\" Flopsy breathed. She was now so excited she couldn't think clearly. She didn't know what to say. What did one say, when she was asked to be a \"sorority sister\"?\n\"Grand. We hoped you'd say 'Yes.' Joan is meeting Alice Holt this morning, and is asking her too. When is Babbie Hilton coming back to Hamilton? We wanted to have her as well. We were watching you, Alice and Babbie when you were freshmen. Babbie is the most adorable thing. And she's David Stewart's sister-in-law. The Stewart's are very important in this town. David's uncle, Mr. Bates, was president of the Board of Education for a long time. Did you know that? I just found out. Flopsy nodded. She did remember Mr. Bates as president of the Board of Education. He used to scare the very heart and soul, lungs and gizzards out of her 8A class at School Number Nine. She'd never deny that he was important!\"\n\u201cTell  me,  do  you  think  Babbie  will  be  back  this \nyear?\u201d  Rosemary  persisted. \n\u201cWe  hope  so!  She  went  back  to  their  ranch  in \nRawhide.  Her  mother  wants  to  sell  it,  and  they  thought \nthey  could  do  it  better  if  they  were  there.  Oh,  Babbie \nwould  love  to  be  a  sorority  sister.\u201d  Flopsy  was  thrilled \ndown  to  her  toes  at  the  very  idea. \n\u201cWell,  we  will  take  her  in  when  she  comes  back. \nNow,  Flopsy,  you  aren\u2019t  too  sorry  about  Fleurette \nMuldoon,  are  you?\u201d \nAll  the  radiance  and  light  went  out  of  Flopsy \u2019s \nface.  Why  had  Rosemary  brought  that  up? \n\u201cWell,  Fleurette\u2019s  very  nice.  She  really  is,  Rose\u00ac \nmary.  Don\u2019t  forget  she\u2019s  a  star  basket-ball  player. \nShe\u2019s  won  her  \u2018H.\u2019  Maybe  if  the  girls  knew  her  bet\u00ac \nter,  they\u2019d  like  her,\u201d  Flopsy  almost  pleaded. \n\u201cMaybe,\u201d  Rosemary  answered  in  a  dead,  flat  tone. \nFlopsy  was  searching  the  street  ahead  of  her  for  a \nglimpse  of  Alice.  She  must  see  her. \n\"Much Ado About Everything 75\n\"We will let you know when you are initiated.\"\n\"Initiated! Flopsy's face dimpled with excitement.\n\"Initiated. That sounds thrilling!\"\n\"It is, and won't we have a grand time with you!\nThe girls can hardly wait. They are thinking up all sorts of wild and weird things. Just you wait!\"\nThen they saw Joan and Alice. Behind them were a half dozen Delta Sigma Delta's.\nWhen she saw the other girls, Rosemary waved her arms in the air, signalling that they could go ahead.\nFlopsy quivered from head to foot at the shout of joy that went up. In another instant, she was in the midst of a group of babbling, giggling girls. They all - one at a time - hugged her and told her she was a \"darling,\" a \"precious,\" a \"peach,\" and a \"doll.\"\n\"Now,\" said Rosemary, \"you will have to take orders\"\"\nFrom US until you are initiated. March straight ahead, you two, we have business to discuss, heavy business! Flopsy and Alice obeyed with alacrity. They were only too eager to be together to talk it over.\n\n\"Now, you know!\" was the first thing Alice said, looking like the cat who has eaten the canary, \"I knew all along they were rushing us!\"\n\n\"Doing \u2014 what \u2014 ?\" Flopsy repeated, puzzled.\n\n\"Rushing us. Didn't you ever hear of being rushed for a sorority?\"\n\nFlopsy shook her head.\n\n\"Mildred guessed it. She told me,\" Alice explained. \"Mildred is my older sister, who had just graduated from college.\"\n\n\"How did she guess?\" Flopsy asked breathlessly.\n\n\"Well, she's a member of Delta Sigma Delta. She was made a member when she was at Hamilton. And besides, she was rushed for her college sorority. She knows the signs. That's why I was so nervous.\"\n\"when you began to get peeved at Rosemary, \"Why didn't you tell me?\" asked Flopsy. This was all so new and thrilling. \"Oh, you mustn't talk about these things until you're sure. It's not the thing to do. Aren't you glad, now, that you didn't really fight with Rosemary over Fleurette?\" Flopsy stiffened. \"Well, maybe I will yet!\" \"Oh, NO! Please don't!\" Alice cried out in dismay. \"Well, I am going to wait now, until after we are in. Then I'll fight with them!\" Alice blew out a long breath of vast relief as she thumped her chest. \"You had me scared stiff!\" \"When we are members, I am going to see Fleurette gets in,\" Flopsy repeated stubbornly. \"But don't say a word now, will you Flopsy? Please. We aren't supposed to give them orders now. They give us orders.\" \"All right!\" Flopsy was bursting with importance. \"No one would ever give me orders unless I were willing.\"\nAlice wasn't reassured, as she couldn't rely on Flopsy's actions. Although Delta Sigma Delta was important, Flopsy had her own will.\n\n\"You'll love being initiated, Flopsy,\" Alice tempted. \"It's a barrel of fun, a riot. I know you will love it.\"\n\nFlopsy tingled. Yes, Alice was right about that. She would love it!\n\nThat day, Flopsy thanked her lucky stars that Fleurette and she didn't have the same lunch period. Fleurette was taking the Commercial Course, and her lunch period came a half hour later. Four of the Delta Sigma Delta members ate at the same time as Flopsy, and she found out promptly what they meant by \"take.\"\nIf there was one thing in Flopsy's school day that tried her soul and patience to the very limit, it was standing in the long line at the cafeteria. The person ahead could never seem to make up their mind whether they wanted a piece of pie or pie and a \"dip\" of ice cream. First, they would remember mother's advice to get something substantial, and then, with mashed potatoes and gravy on the tray, the pie and ice cream would seem too alluring to resist. She always felt like kicking such a weak and indecisive person in the shins. She herself would know at once that pie \u00e0 la mode was what she wanted.\nShe wanted and needed to carry a tray and find a free table in the crowded cafeteria. When she wandered about, she would realize she had forgotten a glass of water or a spoon and would have to go back again. But today she was thrilled. Her mother, if she had seen Flopsy, would scarcely have believed her eyes. Flopsy groaned and moaned so much while waiting on table 5 that Mrs. Moore, for her own peace of mind, had almost given up insisting on this duty. On several occasions, Mrs. Moore had asked Flopsy to serve her guests at a bridge party. It was a mystery why she had chosen the same unpleasant woman twice to empty a small pitcher of whipped cream over. The woman, twice, Mrs. Moore had chosen.\nShe was embarrassed as she rushed to get a towel to remove a sticky mess from a new dress. After the second offense, she had ordered Flopsy not to touch anything containing liquid again, under any circumstances.\n\nIn a twitter of excitement, Flopsy returned to the long, slow-moving line time after time. She forgot spoons, forks, knives, and glasses of water. She had never been so ordered about in her life, and she reveled in it. When the bell sounded for the end of the period, she realized she had eaten no lunch herself.\n\nAt the risk of being late, she swallowed a piece of pie in three gulps and walked out of the cafeteria, chewing on a bar of chocolate, feeling like a million dollars.\n\nThat afternoon after school, Flopsy fell pell-mell up her front stairs. She must tell her mother at once.\nAt once! But disappointment clouded her face when she found that Dickie and Frankie, her two brothers, were in sole possession of the house, with the exception of Mrs. Titmouse who came in twice a week to do cleaning and washing. The two boys were raising ructions. And Flopsy was so annoyed that her mother was not at home to hear the exciting news, that she proceeded to add to the confusion. She grabbed Dickie by his curly hair to keep him from punching Frankie in the stomach, and he whirled around and kicked her in the shins. Mrs. Titmouse, in terror, hurried into the room and denounced them all, so loudly that she forgot her iron. The air was soon filled with the unmistakable odor of burning cloth.\n\n\"For sweet mercy's sake!\" Mrs. Titmouse stormed,\n\"that's one of your middies, Miss Flopsy! You all wait until your mother comes in,\" she threatened darkly as she rushed back to the kitchen.\n\n\"Now look what you've done,\" Flopsy raged at the boys. \"You've made Mrs. Titmouse burn my middy. And I won't have one to wear in gym tomorrow. Mother will be furious!\"\n\nLife was always thus! Just when everything seemed so thrilling and so happy, things like this always happened!\n\nThe boys were subdued now to an awed silence. Flopsy's superior age, for the moment, made them believe exactly what she said. Their mother would be furious at them! It was all their fault.\n\nQuietly, they got their coats and hats and went out-of-doors.\n\nThere was nothing now for Flopsy to do but telephone. She had left Alice only ten minutes before, but she now talked to her steadily for a half hour on the phone.\n\n(80 Almost Fifteen)\n\n(missing context)\nAlice announced her mother was demanding the telephone. Flopsy went to her room, feeling disgusted and cheated. She considered writing to Babbie Hilton. \"My dearest Babbie,\" she began, \"Everybody is asking for you. Alice and I are pledged to a sorority, the ASA. We are going to be initiated, and the girls promise to simply kill us. I can hardly wait. Do you remember Rosemary Brewster?\"\nJunior, and she says she remembers you. She raved about you. If you come back, you will be our sorority sister! Doesn't that sound thrilling? You'll be a Delta Sigma Delta, too. Those funny letters mean D.S.D. in English. I'm all gooseflesh waiting to hear what they stand for. We won't know until we are initiated. It's the most secret thing in the world. I don't know what would happen to you if you ever told - but I bet it would be a terrible fate. I try to think what simply awful thing they'd do if you told anyone about Delta Sigma Delta. You remember long ago before you came East, when you couldn't go to school and lived out on the ranch.\nAt Rawhide? Then you thought that the most wonderful thing in the world was having classmates and going to school. Now, don't you think being an ASA and having sorority sisters would be even more marvelous?\n\nAnother thing that's exciting is, what Janet Dudley wrote to me. She is having a dance in the Spring. A Dance! Just think of it. And she wants you to come home for it. It's so wonderful that you can dance now. It would be too sad if you had an invitation to a dance and you couldn't use that leg you hurt a long time ago. Please don't ride any bucking horses until after Janet's dance. Janet says she has oodles and oodles of the most thrilling boy friends. Write and tell me which is your favorite prep school and I'll write Janet and order her to have boys from just the ones you want.\nWhen we are members of ASA, that is Greek letter Delta Sigma Delta, we will have a secret password and a secret handshake. So you are an aunt. We had a name picked for the baby \u2014 Barbara. It was a surprise it was a boy. Don't tell your sister. But I imagine when he's not crying or blowing bubbles, he looks like you or her or David or something! Don't tell her I wrote this; remember we are going to be sorority sisters and we can't tell secrets.\n\nFlopsy tossed her pen across the desk. It bounced off onto the floor. The front door had opened. It was her mother. She tumbled down the stairs. Dickie had come in with his mother, and he was howling at the top of his lungs.\n\n\"Mother, Flopsy pulled my hair and Frankie punched me in the stomach \u2014\"\nFlopsy gritted her teeth. She felt she could cheerfully have choked her small brother. Why did he have to start raising the roof and telling tales when she wanted to tell her mother about Delta Sigma Delta?\n\n\"Stop it! Stop it at once, Richard Moore!\" Mrs. Moore almost shouted to be heard over his uproar. \"When I saw you first, you were not crying. You only began when you saw me. Stop it!\"\n\nMrs. Titmouse came from the kitchen. \"You're right, Mrs. Moore! He was playing real nice in the back yard for the last few minutes. He always starts yelling the minute he sees you coming!\"\n\nFlopsy sat down on one of the steps, and felt more cheated than ever. This was too disgusting. The hubbub was terrific. How could she impress her mother happily with the great importance of Delta Sigma Delta at such a wretched moment? She glared at Dickie.\nShe felt wicked satisfaction that she had pulled his hair, and that Frankie had punched him in the stomach. She also had a savage regret that they had not made a better job of it, so that he couldn't be yelling now.\n\n\"It's such a pleasure to be out all afternoon having a delightful time, and to come home to such a list of complaints and such shouting and tumult.\" Mrs. Moore\n\n\"I haven't brought bad news!\" Flopsy's voice broke.\n<(It's wonderful news.\"\n\n84. Almost Fifteen spoke with biting sarcasm. Her eyes lit on Flopsy. \"And for goodness' sake what is the matter with you? You look as though you had lost your last friend on earth. Now that Dickie has closed his mouth for one minute, you may as well tell me your troubles. I haven't taken my hat off yet, and my homecoming should be as fantastic as possible.\"\nFlopsy choked up. Could anything in this world be more unkind?\n\n\"I haven't got bad news \u2014,\" Flopsy's voice broke. She looked utterly woebegone. \"It's wonderful news.\" Her eyes filled with tears. \"I haven't any complaints!\" Her voice trembled. At this moment, she looked for all the world as though she would begin howling as Dickie had done. She felt very noble that she could restrain herself.\n\n\"Good news! Wonderful news!\" Mrs. Moore stared at her unbelievingly. \"Well, at that, I think I might take my hat off and feel at home. But I must say your words belie your manner.\" Mrs. Moore took off her hat and began to unbutton her coat. \"Come up to my room and tell me. I think I could stand some good news. But, Flopsy, I must say I should hate to see you if you had had bad news, if \u2018good news\u2019 makes you look as though\"\nSomeone had used your heart as a stamping ground. Flopsy leaped up the stairs two steps at a time. She called over her shoulder in a gay voice, \"O.K. I'll be waiting for you in your room. Just wait until you hear! You'll be so surprised!\"\n\n\"I'm sure I shall be,\" Mrs. Moore commented dryly, starting up the stairs. She turned once more to Dickie. \"Dickie, go out in the kitchen and ask Mrs. Much Ado About Everything if she minds washing your face. And don't let me hear you howl again.\"\n\nDickie nodded sulkily and disappeared into the kitchen, muttering, \"Flopsy did pull my hair, and Frankie did punch me in the stomach. And I didn't do anything.\"\n\n\"I'd like to believe that!\" Mrs. Moore raised her eyebrows. She went up the stairs slowly. Whatever could Flopsy's good news be that it made her look so excited?\nWhen she entered the room, Flopsy sat on her mother's bed with a broad grin and was wriggling with excitement.\n\n\"Mother, do you know what? The mystery is solved at last!\" Mrs. Moore opened her closet door. \"You amaze me. What mystery? Oh, dear!\" she sighed.\n\n\"Here is one mystery I'd like to have solved when you get to it, if you are good at solving them. Why is my hostess gown on the floor most of the time? It seems to slip off any hanger I put it on \u2014 I,\" Flopsy spoke with suspicious quickness, \"You know, mother, you know how Rosemary Brewster has been following me around, telling me things all the time? You remember? She popped in here this morning. What do you think?\"\n\n\"I'd hate to think the boys were playing in my closet. But that wouldn't be it, because why should it always slip off the hanger when I hang it there?\"\nMrs. Moore was thinking aloud. \"Is this my hostess gown, Mrs. Moore?\" Flopsy repeated almost impatiently.\n\n\"Oh, not that mystery! The mystery about Rosemary,\" Flopsy explained joyfully.\n\n\"They were rushing me!\"\n\"They certainly were, but why?\"\n\"They want me to be their sorority sister. They want me to be a Delta Sigma Delta!\" Flopsy exclaimed. \"Isn't that exciting? They asked Alice, too. And we are going to be initiated. And right this minute we are pledged. Next year it will be a national sorority.\"\n\n\"Good gracious!\" Mrs. Moore gasped. \"Is this college or high school? I thought sororities were not permitted in any of the public high schools in this state.\"\n\n\"Well, this one isn't really in the high school.\"\nFlopsy was disappointed by her mother's attitude. \"The girls have to be high school girls, just the same,\" Mrs. Moore spoke slowly. \"Well! I suppose you will have some fun out of it, but \u2014,\" Flopsy protested. \"But, mother! It will be too exciting for anything. Secret passwords, secret handshakes, and I can't wait for the initiation,\" she exclaimed. \"Couldn't you wait until you get to college?\" Mrs. Moore's face was thoughtful. \"Oh, mother!\" Flopsy squealed. \"You know how I am. I never can wait for things. And besides, maybe I'll never get to college. Maybe I'll be taking first-year Latin for years and years!\" \"But right now, you have so many outside interests,\" Mrs. Moore said. \"Oh, mother,\" Flopsy's eyes were wide with alarm. \"Don't you want me to be a Delta Sigma Delta? Oh, mother!\" Mrs. Moore had always thought that sororities in public colleges were unnecessary.\nFlopsy's face turned pale. \"Why, mother, are you thinking of Fleurette? I'm going to fight to have her in as well, once I'm a member.\" \"Fight!\" Mrs. Moore smiled. \"Oh, Flopsy! Maybe I won't have to fight much. You remember Rosemary said she had pretty eyes and hair. Maybe she isn't so against it after all.\" \"Well, my dear,\" Mrs. Moore laughed, \"I'm not going to say no. I can see that you would suffer acutely if you didn't know what Delta Sigma Delta stood for. And it would be very painful to refuse the fascinating status of being a 'sorority sister'.\" Mr. Moore took it all as a huge joke. Flopsy had felt in her bones that he would.\n\nMr. Moore asked, \"What was that sorority you belonged to a few years back when you were in School Number Nine?\"\n\"asked sweetly. \"It had a very secret name, too.\" \"Oh, that!\" Flopsy frowned. \"You mean that silly old T.M.S.?\" \"Oh, yes! The \u2018Too Many Spats.\u2019 I recall it all now. That was a sorority!\" \"It was not a sorority!\" Flopsy contradicted with some annoyance. \"It was just a crazy club. Daddy, this is a real sorority. It has a real sorority name, Delta Sigma Delta.\" \"Oh, yes, I see it all now very clearly.\" Mr. Moore nodded. \"But the idea is very much the same. The same, but although complicated by being in Greek, it will still be too many spats. Remember the old saying, \u2018when Greek meets Greek\u2019? This is going to be fun to watch from the side lines.\" Flopsy sighed deeply. What was the use? Her father always got everything mixed up!\n\nChapter Four\nInitiation\n\nNothing, which took Flopsy's mind off the confusion, as she prepared for her sorority's initiation ceremony.\nFlopsy found the business of being pledged to a sorority during the next week tremendously thrilling and exciting, but it annoyed and irritated her. She could not be bothered with anything else.\n\nA week later, as Flopsy was on her way to school with Alice, a girl stopped her. Flopsy did not know her, yet her face brought to mind some irritating incident.\n\n\"Wait Flora, please wait! I must tell you something terribly important. It\u2019s about my dues,\" the girl said.\n\nFlopsy nudged Alice. Who was the girl? Flopsy said nothing, but nodded for her to go on.\n\n\"Do you know what I found last week at home?\" Flopsy almost glared at the snub-nosed face which stared intently into hers. She nudged Alice again. What did she care about the girl\u2019s discovery? She was going to be initiated into the Delta Sigma Delta that morning. Nothing else on earth mattered to her.\nI. Flopsy showed interest.\n\"I give up!\" she exclaimed. \"Two receipts for my December dues. There must be a mistake!\"\nFlopsy made a clucking sound of annoyance.\n\"Well, there must be. Did I sign them both?\"\n\"Yes, you did! You signed them both, and they're both for December.\"\n\"What is your name?\" Flopsy asked crossly.\n\"You know. You must remember,\" the girl insisted earnestly, \"you wrote it twice only a short time ago.\"\nFlopsy shook her head.\n\"Don't you remember? I was with Elsie and Lois?\"\n\"Oh, yes,\" Flopsy sighed. She did remember the incident. But she simply couldn't remember the girl's name, except that it was something very odd. \"Oh, yes, I remember. But what is your name?\" she asked in despair.\n\"Paulette Muggesser!\" the girl answered triumphantly. \"I bet you know, now.\"\n\"I bet I do!\" Flopsy retorted aloud, and to herself.\n\"Paulette: \"Now that you have told me I do, you know what I think? I've paid for January. That's what the mistake was.\" Paulette smiled warmly. She was sure Flora must be pleased to have the matter straightened out at last.\n\nFlora: \"Yes! I bet you're right. It was for January.\"\n\nFlopsy agreed hastily. She couldn't be bothered talking about class dues - past, present, or future.\n\nFlopsy: \"Will it be all right if I change it on the receipt?\"\n\nPaulette: \"Oh, I think that would be wonderful. It would be dandy, and I'd appreciate it so much.\" Flopsy mustered up a smile, which was almost good-natured. \"I'd thank you very much, if you would, Paulette.\"\n\nPaulette: \"You're very welcome, Flora!\" Paulette seemed reluctant to be on her way. She wanted to walk down the initiation path.\"\nFlopsy said, \"It's nice of you to tell me about the street with Flora Moore and Alice Holt. It would have confused my accounts if you hadn't told me.\"\n\n\"I thought so too,\" Paulette replied, trying to keep up with them.\n\n\"May we cross the street here, Paulette?\" Flopsy asked sweetly. \"We have an appointment to meet some girls. It's important.\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Paulette disappointed. \"That's all right!\"\n\n\"Bye!\" Flopsy grinned and patted Paulette's arm. \"Thank you, and I'm sorry we have to rush off.\"\n\n\"For Pete's sake!\" Alice exclaimed indignantly as soon as they were alone. \"How can you keep track when people do things like that? I bet she didn't pay for January.\"\nFlopsy stood in the middle of the road, turning and staring after Paulette. \"Now, I am beginning to remember. She didn't pay. Elsie and Lois said so, or maybe she did.\" Flopsy brought her brows together in a puzzled frown. \"Listen to me, Alice Holt, if I am ever crazy enough to be treasurer again, please shoot me dead right on the spot. It's just going to drive me crazy.\"\n\n\"Oh, there's Joan and Rosemary!\" Alice's eyes brightened, and she dismissed Paulette from further consideration.\n\n92. Almost Fifteen\n\nThe girls started to run.\n\n\"Hello! Late as usual?\" Rosemary loaded a pile of books into Flopsy's arms. Flopsy herself had made it a point these days to bring home scarcely any books. She couldn't carry too many!\n\nJoan handed over her books to Alice.\n\"Now walk ahead of us and listen very carefully. Next Wednesday, you are to come to school with mismatched shoes. It's too bad if you don't have two pairs. One can be black and the other white or one brown. You are to wear your mother's oldest hat. If your mother hasn't an old hat, you must borrow one. We hope that whatever hat you wear won't fit you. You must wear two big hair ribbons \u2014 one red, the other black. Those are the colors of Delta Sigma Delta. When school is out, we are to meet at Joan's house and we will fix you up, just too ducky for words, and then we will all take a lovely walk down Spruce Street. We will meet lots of people there. It's crowded in the afternoon. Flopsy and Alice were staggering in an exaggerated fashion. They were thrilled to their toes. This was going to be fun!\"\nThat afternoon, Flopsy dashed into her house shouting, \"Mother! Mother! Where are you?\"\n\"Here!\" Mrs. Moore called from upstairs. \"What is it?\"\nFlopsy scrambled up the stairs two at a time and bounced into her mother's room.\n\"Oh, mother, I've simply got to wear that blue hat of yours to school next Wednesday. We are being initiated. And we have to look crazy!\"\n\"Look crazy. You have to look crazy in my blue hat?\" Mrs. Moore looked dumbfounded.\n\"Yes, we have to wear our mothers' old hats. Just for a laugh.\"\n\"Flora Madden Moore! My blue hat is not old, it is not crazy, and it's not laugh-inspiring. I think you're crazy yourself. You've seen me wearing that hat daily.\"\n\"Why \u2014\" Flopsy faltered, the wind out of her sails.\n\"It's a perfectly good hat,\" Mrs. Moore finished for her in a tone that forbade contradiction. It's a perfectly good hat.\n\"very comfortable, very becoming, and very suitable hat.\"\n\"Oh, jinks!\" Flopsy wailed in disgust. \"What shall I do?\"\n\"My heart aches for your plight,\" her mother commented dryly and with some sarcasm. \"I am a heartless mother, I know, because I won't hand over my second-best hat to you, just so you can give your schoolmates something to laugh at. And, of course, there's no chance that they might pull it off your head and toss it all over the landscape? Think of my point of view. How do you think I'd feel the next day when I had to wear that hat, and realized that several hundred children had laughed at it the day before?\"\n\"Well,\" Flopsy was gathering her wits together, \"your blue hat isn't funny on you.\"\n\"I am grateful and I thank you. That is a soothing thought. I'm glad that I have not been going around with a laughable hat.\"\n\"But \"It's a lady's hat, and it would only look silly on me,\" explained Flopsy.\n\n\"Now, Flora Moore! You are not, positively not, going to have my blue hat. Just get the idea right out of your head,\" Mrs. Moore declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.\n\nFlopsy looked forlornly into space. \"What hat will I wear? I have to do as the girls say while I am being initiated.\"\n\n\"Oh dear,\" Mrs. Moore sighed deeply. \"Well, perhaps all is not lost. Perhaps I may be able to find an old discarded hat in the attic.\"\n\nWhen Mr. Moore heard, that night, of the impending initiation, he looked both sympathetic and understanding.\n\n\"My dear,\" he turned to his wife, \"Couldn't Flopsy stay out of school until then? I am afraid the strain of the initiation might be too much for her.\"\n\"Looking forward to the ordeal of the initiation combined with her school studies may be too much for her.\"\n\n\"Oh, daddy!\" Flopsy knew, now, that he was being silly.\n\n\"Or perhaps scholastic records are not important to members of the Alpha Delta Gamma?\" he asked earnestly.\n\n\"It's not the Alpha Delta Gamma! It's the Delta Sigma Delta,\" Flopsy corrected.\n\n\"Oh, I beg your pardon!\" Mr. Moore put the tip of his fingers to his mouth and looked up from under his eyebrows.\n\n\"And, some of the girls in the sorority are on the honor roll. You saw Rosemary Brewster. Well, she is always on the super-honor roll. She is wonderful in everything. She never worries about studying. And she goes to a lot of parties, too!\"\n\nInitiation 95\n\n\"Well, well!\" Mr. Moore looked properly impressed. \"She is a rare creature, beautiful and very brilliant. Is she in the Delta Sigma Delta sorority?\"\nShe is an athlete as well? asked Mr. Moore.\n\"Yes!\" enthused Flopsy. \"If she focused on sports, she could go to the Olympic games. She skates, swims, runs, and\u2014\"\n\"I see,\" Mr. Moore turned to his wife. \"Did you hear this, my dear?\"\n\"Well, I think it's possible. There's always a girl like that in high school. There was when I was a girl. They have everything!\"\n\"And she's popular,\" Flopsy added. \"And now you have a daughter who\u2014\"\n\"See what?\" Mr. Moore asked intently. \"I don't want to miss any of the fine points.\"\n\"You see, you can be popular, be in a sorority, and be so good in your studies that you don't have to bother with homework,\" Mrs. Moore explained.\nMr. Moore put on his glasses and stared at his daughter.\n\"Nothing would make me happier and prouder than to have you prove that to me. Good luck to you!\"\nFlopsy wriggled in her chair. She didn't entirely trust her father's tone. Was he being entirely sincere? She never could be sure.\n\nThe Tuesday night before the important Wednesday, Flopsy tossed about all night. She was too excited to sleep. Everything was in readiness for the big day to follow. Her mother had managed to find an old, completely out-of-date hat in the attic. That was one thing about her mother Flopsy could always count on. Beside her bed, ready for the morning, were a brown shoe and a white and brown sport shoe. On her bureau, were two huge bows, one black and the other red. She had received last-minute orders to wear her middy on backwards, with the tie down the back.\n\nWhen her father saw her at breakfast the next morning, he tipped back in his chair.\nI wonder if you will take a small note from me to your teacher? It won't take a minute to compose. He took a fountain pen out of his pocket. Then he searched in all his other pockets for a piece of paper. Ah, I'll use this, he held up a card. He scribbled something on it and handed it to his daughter. She took it with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. She read, \"You have my heartfelt and deepest sympathy.\" And Mr. Moore had sprawled his name in large letters under this brief message. Flopsy giggled and handed it to her mother. Mrs. Moore laughed and shook her head. And I imagine they will need it, she said with a laugh. I wonder they put up with it at all. Flopsy was not paying the slightest attention to her parents at the moment. Wouldn't it be exciting to walk into her algebra class? She hadn't thought of Wilton.\nLocke shivered all over, but she would be noticed this morning. He was a member of a fraternity, and she was going to be a sorority girl. She clamped her hat down on her head over her ridiculously big hair ribbons. Initiation. She was too silly for words! She was to go straight to the corner of Washington Avenue and Park Street. The Delta Sigma Delta would be waiting for her there.\n\nHer father watched her as she prepared to leave the house. \"I would be concerned about your studies today, if you had not convinced me that you could be absolutely letter-perfect in your work, without giving it a thought.\" Flopsy kissed her father, and her mother rapturously. She flew down the walk. Whom would she meet beforehand?\nShe met her sorority sisters-to-be. She had gone only a short distance when she almost bumped into Bill Forbes and Frank Gordon. Bill eyed her curiously. Then the light dawned. \"I get it!\" he announced. \"Well! Well!\" And Flopsy felt still more important. \"This is going to be fun,\" Bill turned to Frank Gordon, \"we've got work to do today, pleasant work,\" and he rubbed his hands together. \"This is going to be good!\" He and Frank Gordon walked along with her, one on either side. \"Would you like Frankie and me to take care of you today, little Flopsy?\" Bill asked solicitously. \"We can be a great help, you'd be surprised to know just how much.\" Flopsy was delighted. Not so very long ago, only a year, in fact, Bill Forbes had just been a pest. But not now. He was too important. Some day he'd be the most important boy at Hamilton.\n\"Bill smirked, \"You're going to ride the goat!\"\" Ninety-eight. We are your pals, Frank and I. Remember the good old days at Number Nine? We have to stick together. Don't we, Red?\n\nFlopsy giggled. Being called \"Red\" would have once sent her into a tempest, but not now. She reveled in all these nicknames. She had begun to notice that unpopular girls were never called nicknames - to their faces.\n\n\"Where are you heading for, Toots?\" Bill asked blandly.\n\n\"I am meeting Alice Holt at the corner of Washington and Park Streets. And there will be a few others,\" Flopsy tried to give significance to this last.\n\n\"We get it, again!\" Bill exclaimed. \"How do you like it, Frank? There will be Alice Holt. Have you ever heard that name before?\"\n\nFrank rolled his eyes around. \"This is going to be fun,\" he grinned.\nus. We will take care of you today. Never fear. We will stick close.\n\nFlopsy looked up the street. There they were! Every single one of the Delta Sigma Deltas was waiting for her. She saw Alice coming from the opposite direction. Flopsy waved both arms in the air, and started to run, Frank and Bill at her heels. She wondered if the girls would like this. She stopped abruptly.\n\n\"Maybe you better not come any further,\" she panted.\n\n\"Why Flopsy-Wopsy!\" Bill was reproachful. \"Do you think we would leave you unprotected? You need us.\"\n\nInitiation 99\n\nAlice recognized the boys with Flopsy and was thrilled. This was going to be exciting!\n\nRosemary came toward them.\n\n\"Run away, little boys. Run away. We are going to be too busy to bother with you.\"\n\nFlopsy's heart turned upside down. There was Wilton Locke! He took in the situation at a glance.\nFlopsy and Alice didn't have to wait for algebra class. They were ordered to walk ahead, and the ten Delta Sigma Deltas marched behind them. Wilton Locke, Bill Forbes, and Frank Gordon were also there.\n\n\"Do you know what I heard?\" Alice whispered breathlessly. \"Bill and Frank are pledged too. They're going to be initiated in a few weeks.\"\n\n\"They are!\" Flopsy's eyes danced. \"This is going to be grand!\"\n\nAs the cavalcade neared the school, crowds of boys and girls gathered and stopped to gape. Either they were amused or secretly jealous.\n\nIn the distance, Flopsy saw Fleurette. For one brief moment, she felt depressed. But she couldn't stay that way, not today!\n\nSo big a crowd had gathered about them that it attracted the attention of all the stragglers in the background. They too came rushing, pushing, and shoving, consumed with curiosity.\nWhat is it? What happened? were the questions each newcomer asked. They say some girl cracked her head open - they say, two boys nearly killed each other - they say, but as the late arrivals pushed their way to the center of the dense mob, they learned that it was only an initiation. Take those goofy looking hats off and bow to the people, Rosemary ordered. Alice and Flopsy pulled off their ridiculous hats and tried to comply, but they were so hemmed in that they couldn't move. The sound of a bell released them. Inside now, Rosemary ordered, and her two victims eagerly marched into the school. Flopsy was looking forward to entering her classroom. She could hear the titters already. It was going to be great fun, but she must be careful not to go too far. She heard the titters that day, to be sure.\nShe didn't dare to be too funny in English, history, or algebra class. Suppose I were detained after school? It would be terrible. I was very conscious as the day wore on that Fleurette was avoiding me. Fleurette wasn't even going to give me the satisfaction of laughing at me. Flopsy was vaguely disturbed. Fleurette would be sorry some day when she discovered that Flopsy was getting her into Delta Sigma Delta. Flopsy tried to catch Fleurette's eye during assembly period, but Fleurette was staring at Miss Ellis, the teacher. Flopsy was sure this was pure spite, as Fleurette had never kept her eye on any teacher for long. She was only doing it today so she wouldn't have to look at Flopsy.\nBut Flopsy knew that Fleurette would feel ashamed some day. When Fleurette was being initiated, she would want everyone to look at her!\n\nThe noon period was the high spot of the day. The cafeteria was in a turmoil. Rosemary gave Flopsy some commands before she was allowed to join the long line wriggling past the counter.\n\nWhen it was Flopsy's turn to give her order, she spoke sweetly. \"I want one order of chicken a la Maryland, garnished with green lizards.\"\n\nThe girl who was serving stopped short and stared. \"What did you say?\" She looked puzzled.\n\n\"I want one order of chicken a la Maryland, garnished with green lizards. For dessert, I want candied frogs with fudge sauce.\"\n\nThen the girl noticed Flopsy's big silly hair ribbon and that her middy was on backwards. She grinned, and pointed to the big printed menu on the wall.\n\"We haven't any today! I'm very sorry!\n\nHow is your mother? I hope she is very well,' asked Flopsy with great concern in her voice. All over the room, there were titters and snickers.\n\n'My mother is very well. So is my father and my whole family. And would you mind asking me for something we have? The line is getting very long behind you,' the girl wanted to be good-natured, but she looked dismayed at the rapidly lengthening line behind Flopsy.\n\n'My doctor insists on my having what I asked for,' Flopsy answered with a mock sigh, and she moved on. She turned her head and saw that Alice was in sixth or seventh place behind her. They were to ask for the same things. Flopsy giggled at the thought.\n\nWhen the two girls reached their table, they found Bill Forbes, Frank Gordon, Wilton Locke, and a boy named 102 Almost Fifteen.\"\nThey didn't know, seated with their chairs back to back. It was all a riot, Flopsy thought to herself. But through her mind ran one thought. Would she get anything to eat? Her sorority sisters-to-be ate their lunches with great many Oh\u2019s and Ah\u2019s. Just before it was time for the bell, Flopsy and Alice were fed a few small sandwiches.\n\n\"Take a bite,\" Rosemary held the sandwich in her hand. \"And if you take my fingers with it, you will regret it,\" she threatened darkly.\n\nFood did not appeal very much to either Alice or Flopsy. They were subsisting on excitement. They had thought they wanted something to eat, but they only nibbled at the proffered food.\n\nAfter school, the Delta Sigma Deltas gathered at one of the high school's side doors. Alice and Flopsy were told to keep a little apart, while the others held a meeting.\nThe Delta Sigma Deltas were worried they wouldn't keep Bill, Frank, and Wilton Locke. Some girls found it exciting to have the boys around and urged them to proceed with their plans. What could the boys do but add to the fun?\n\n\"All right, then!\" Rosemary agreed. \"Flopsy Moore and Alice Holt, march yourselves up the street. We'll tell you when to turn.\"\n\n\"Right!\" Joan shouted in a few blocks.\n\n\"Left! \" Rosemary ordered at another.\n\n\"Left!\" Helen yelled at another corner.\n\n\"Stop!\" Joan commanded. They were in front of her house.\n\nInitiation 103\n\nAlice and Flopsy stood still. There was another consultation. The boys were still trailing them quietly and persistently.\n\n\"Run away, little boys, and play marbles in your own back yard,\" Rosemary called.\nBill: \"Sorry! We're fresh out of marbles. And we don't have any backyards on hand. We gave them to the Salvation Army by mistake.\"\n\nJoan: \"Let's go into the house. Maybe they'll get tired.\"\n\nRosemary: \"March yourselves up the walk, you miserable worms!\" she ordered Flopsy and Alice.\n\nFlopsy: \"Worms can't march! They crawl.\"\n\nJoan: \"Silence! And no back talk! And maybe, at that, you ought to crawl.\"\n\nAnother Delta Sigma Delta: \"That's a thought! Make them crawl!\"\n\nAlice and Flopsy crawled slowly up the walk to Joan's front porch. Passersby stopped and laughed. People hung out of automobiles. The three boys leaned against a telegraph pole. They did not laugh. They were as solemn as wooden Indians.\n\nBill: \"That's not funny enough!\" he called with a poker.\n\"You will have to do better than that,\" Face replied. \"We want our tickets back for this show,\" complained Wilton Locke sourly. \"It's a flop!\" Whispering to Joan, Rosemary then said aloud, \"Up on your feet, lowly creatures, and make a dash for the house.\" In another minute, all of the Delta Sigma Deltas were inside, and the door was slammed. Rosemary peeked through the shade on the hall door. \"The boys are still there!\" she said grimly. For the next hour, the Delta Sigma Deltas worked on the two girls. Flopsy and Alice had their hair twisted into dozens of fine braids. Every time either of them squealed when her hair was pulled, she was immediately raped on the head with a hairbrush. At the end of each pig tail, either a black or a red ribbon was tied. Then the paint box was brought out. Flopsy's nose was next.\nwas painted black, and Alice's red. Across each forehead were drawn the letters ASA.\n\n\"Now, Flopsy, number one question, and answer it truly. In which subject in high school are you stupid, dull, and backward?\"\n\n\"Latin!\" she answered meekly.\n\n\"Good! We know that to be the truth!\" Rosemary nodded approvingly. \"We will see that this is remedied at once. Do you see this?\" She held up a big placard, with a cord attached to it. \"What do you see?\"\n\nFlopsy read the huge letters.\n\nAMO \u2014 I love\nAM AS \u2014 You love\nAMAT \u2014 He loves\nAND WHO CARES!\n\n\"Read them again,\" Rosemary ordered.\n\nOver and over, and faster and faster, Flopsy was ordered to read the words.\n\n\"Now we will hang the placard around your neck. We want you to ask everyone you meet on the street to read them to you. By the time the afternoon is over, you will have repeated these words a hundred times.\" (Initiation 105)\n\"And Rosemary hung the sign about Flopsy's neck: \"you will know them, once and for all!\" The sign read \"Flopsy Bunny.\" She was a little envious when she saw Alice's placard. It read \"I Like Frank. I Like People Who Are Frank.\" The word \"Frank\" was in red letters, the others in black. Alice smirked as it was hung about her neck.\n\n\"Now, we are going for that walk down Spruce Street,\" Rosemary announced. \"We are going calling. And if either of you girls is asked to sing, why sing. Remember, a child who can sing, and who won't sing, must be made to sing.\"\n\nWhen the procession formed on the street again, the girls found the three boys still on their trail. Flopsy noticed, a little annoyed, that Frank Gordon was among them.\"\nThe girls marched on, and Alice showed him her sign, pleasing him immediately. Alice giggled, pretending to be embarrassed as Flopsy scornfully muttered to herself. With great solemnity, they met two high school teachers, Miss Howland, a physical training instructor, and Miss Allison, who taught music.\n\n\"Stop!\" Rosemary ordered. \"Miss Howland and Miss Allison, wouldn't you like to hear these girls sing for you?\" She asked the two teachers, who laughed and nodded in agreement.\n\n\"Now, together. Put your heads together and sing, 'Polly-Wolly-Doodle.' Harmonize it. And please do not distress Miss Allison too much! Remember, her ears are sensitive to good music!\"\n\nFlopsy and Alice put their heads together and shouted the words of the song. Flopsy never could.\n\nMiss Howland and Miss Allison listened as the girls sang.\nAlice carried more than six notes of any tune and was off key almost from the start. She had a good voice, but no one on earth could keep any kind of pitch, tune, or harmony with Flopsy. Flopsy could send a whole chorus off pitch if she sang loudly enough, and she sang loudly that day! Miss Allison shook her head woefully as she laughed. \"Now I know why that Sophomore B class goes off key so often,\" she said. \"Don't think Flopsy's trying to be funny,\" Joan whispered to the teacher. \"She can't help it. Isn't it pitiful?\" Miss Allison and Miss Howland went on their way, highly amused. Rosemary turned her head and looked about. Yes, those three boys were still there, grim, quiet, and determined. For the next few hours, the girls walked up and down the street. They went into stores and visited the library.\nThey called at the homes of various Delta Sigma Delta members. The secret rites of the initiation were to occur at Helen's home. Her parents had gone out for dinner, and the girls were to have the ceremony to themselves. Helen's mother, Mrs. Putnam, had left a buffet supper for them on a long table in the recreation cellar. The furnace room and laundry were entirely separated from this section of the cellar, which was a very attractive place, just right for the mysterious and solemn ceremony.\n\nFlopsy's eyes sought the long table longingly. She had lived on excitement all day, and now she needed something more substantial. The platters of chicken and potato salad were tempting.\n\n\"Hungry! Well, Flopsy dear, you will be fed at once, even before we eat.\" Before Flopsy knew what was happening, she was being led to the table and offered food.\nSomebody said, \"Now, for Alice,\" as she was blindfolded and seated in a chair.\n\n\"Did you ever hear of hors d'oeuvres?\" Flopsy was asked. \"Little appetizers, you know. Tid-bits to make you enjoy your dinner better. We've gone to great trouble to see you should have something rare. Open your mouth wide. Hold your head back.\"\n\nFlopsy complied, holding her head back and opening her mouth. Something long and wriggling was dropped into it.\n\n\"That's just a nice, smooth worm, you poor little fish,\" someone exclaimed, and all the girls shrieked with joy.\n\nFlopsy's tongue explored this wriggling object, and she let out a weak yelp. She was positively going to be sick. There was an uproar of laughter as she hastily used her handkerchief to remove the \"worm\" from her mouth.\n\"You ungrateful creature! Listen, Alice is chewing on her worm with loud smacks.\" Flopsy felt even worse.\n\n\"How does it happen, Alice Holt, that you like worms?\"\n\n\"Oh, maybe she used to go out in the backyard and eat them when she was little,\" someone else suggested.\n\nIn the tones of the girls' voices, there was disappointment that Alice seemed to enjoy her \"worm.\"\n\n\"Tie her bandage tighter,\" another voice suggested. \"Now for the next little appetizer!\"\n\nFlopsy groaned, but the girls were jubilant.\n\n\"You will like this much better. It's rare. It's choice. It's delicious. Open your mouth, honey.\"\n\nFlopsy shook her head.\n\n\"Oh, yes you do! You'll never take the secret oath until you've eaten this delicacy. No one ever entered the sacred portals of the Delta Sigma Delta who did not first obey orders.\"\n\nFlopsy opened her mouth a little. Into it was poked a small, wriggling creature.\n\"Something horribly squishy. \"Just take one bite. That\u2019s all!\" Desperately, Flopsy's teeth bit into the slippery thing, and then she screamed. \"It's just a great horned toad, carefully skinned. The Horned Toad is sacred to the Delta Sigma Delta.\" Flopsy slid off her chair onto the floor. For a few seconds, the girls were in a panic. They thought she had fainted, and someone ripped off her bandages. She was a pale sea green. \"Are you all right?\" They were half hysterical from fright and mirth. \"Look at Alice. She is eating her toad! In fact, she\u2019s swallowed it!\" Flopsy, wavering, looked at Alice, and crumpled up completely. \"For mercy's sake!\" Rosemary gasped, \"this is a fine fix.\" \"Listen to us, please, Flopsy. The first thing we gave you was spaghetti, and the second one was an oyster.\" Flopsy opened her eyes. At the sight of Alice's self-consumed toad, she regained her composure.\nAlice boasted, \"I guessed! I knew they wouldn't feed us anything horrible.\"\n\n\"You knew!\" Alice insisted.\n\nFlopsy was dragged to her feet. \"Let me see,\" she begged in a weak, pitiful little voice. The girls rushed to get a plate of spaghetti and some oysters for Flopsy. Her face was still pale, and the freckles across the bridge of her nose, usually scarcely discernible, were standing out like ginger snaps. Flopsy looked down upon her recent diet and laughed. Her laugh was wobbly, but she wanted to be a good sport. She must be a good sport! The girls hovered about now, trying to entice her with their genuine delicacies. It didn't seem possible that only a few minutes before she had longed for chicken salad. Now, she ate it with an effort.\nBefore she had eaten much, her appetite returned. After their feast, Flopsy and Alice were told to kneel on a rug. Rosemary stood before them, her face solemn.\n\n\"Hold up your right hands. Now, Flora Madden Moore, repeat this solemn oath.\n\n\"By the Great Horned Toad, and the Weird-eyed Initiation 111 Owl, I will never reveal or betray the secrets of Delta Sigma Delta.\"\n\nFlopsy repeated the \"oath\" trembling with excitement. What a thrill! Alice repeated it after her.\n\n\"Due to an unforeseen occurrence, to be exact, Flopsy's attitude toward our beloved and sacred Horned Toad, we will not treat you girls too roughly. We were going to muss you up a bit. But right here and now, we will teach you our password. It will take time, but if you are too slow, we will have to bounce you about a little. I will say it once. Listen to it very carefully.\"\n\"Simple and neat, but impossible to guess unless you are a Delta Sigma Delta. Repeat it. You first, Flora Moore. \"Transmagnificandubandalcio.\" Flopsy began, and broke off with a giggle. \"Goon! Goon!\" Flopsy shook her head and giggled again. \"Magni-\" Rosemary prompted. \"Magni-\" Flopsy repeated. \"Nifi-\" Rosemary scowled warningly. \"This is bad, very bad. If you had not threatened to die on our hands, we would have to give you a few whacks.\" \"Nifi-\" Flopsy said meekly. \"Can-\" Rosemary frowned. \"Can- what?\" Flopsy asked still unsquelched. \"We will discipline you in a minute,\" Rosemary said sternly. \"Now you say \u2018du.\u2019 \" Du!\" Flopsy ducked. \"Ban-\" Rosemary went on grimly. This Flopsy echoed promptly. \"Say the rest of it in one piece. I am getting exhausted. I am not being initiated, you are. Delta Sigma Delta.\"\"\n\"For a half hour, Flopsy and Alice chanted the password. \"Louder! Faster!\" came the orders. The other girls began to say it with them. They shouted it, whispered it, and yodeled it! The cellar rang with it. In fact, it threatened to tear the roof off the house. \"Now you are to know the most secret and solemn meaning of Delta Sigma Delta. It stands, so we are told, for some Greek words. We are Unique Freaks,\" Rosemary chanted slowly and solemnly. \"What was that?\" a voice asked shrilly. \"What was what?\" one of the girls gasped. \"A noise in the furnace room!\" Helen Putnam faltered weakly, and pointed with a trembling finger. There was no sound in the cellar, but the heavy breathing of twelve frightened girls. \"What did you think you heard?\" Rosemary managed\"\n\"A noise!\" Helen repeated, staring in fascinated terror at the furnace room. \"What kind of noise?\" Rosemary asked in a hollow tone. \"Like someone or something snorting,\" Helen moistened her lips, \"snorting.\" Several girls demanded shrilly, \"I don't care for things that snort.\" Flopsy managed to gasp. She looked on the verge of a severe relapse. Pandemonium broke loose. There was a mad scramble for the staircase. The last girl was dragged over the doorsill, and the door slammed after her. \"Lock it! Lock it!\" several of the girls implored. Helen Putnam obeyed instantly, her fingers shaking so she could scarcely control them. \"Now, what?\" Rosemary managed to get her voice back.\nThe girls were in a huddle in the kitchen. \"What shall we do?\" Flopsy demanded. \"Call the police!\" Rosemary asked. \"I can't ask them to come and get a snorting 'what's-it' in the cellar!\"\n\nThey all heard something. Their faces blanched. It was as rhythmical as the distinct beat of tom-toms in the jungle.\n\nTRANS \u2014 MAG \u2014 NIFI \u2014 CAN \u2014 DU \u2014 BAN \u2014 DALCI\u2014 ALTO.\n\nThe girls never moved. Not even one eye of the twelve pairs batted or blinked. They were simply petrified.\n\nThis chant was repeated with the same solemn tom-tom effect.\n\nWith a frantic scramble, the girls rushed out of the kitchen and dashed for the front door. In another second, they were all standing in a shivering group on the front porch.\n\nTRANS \u2014 MAG \u2014 NIFI \u2014 CAN \u2014 DU \u2014 BAN \u2014 DALCI\u2014 ALTO.\n\nAlmost Fifteen \u2014 114.\nEach girl peered into the nearest white face.\n\"By the Great Horn Toad and Weird Eyed Owl!\" Rosemary muttered in a grim, cold tone. \"We might as well go into the house. You can't fool me. That was Wilton Locke!\"\n\"Unique Freaks!\" The air was filled with this war-whoop.\n\"And that's Bill Forbes!\" Flopsy's eyes narrowed. The Delta Sigma Deltas, stripped ruthlessly of their mystery and secrecy, trailed into the house and closed the door behind them.\n\nChapter Five\nFlopsy's Black Eye\n\nAn hour later, Flopsy came home. To Mr. and Mrs. Moore, who were sitting in the living room, her face was the picture of bleak and tragic despair.\n\n\"Why, Flopsy!\" Mrs. Moore cried out in alarm. \"What is it?\"\n\nFlopsy dropped into a chair. She was very white. Her lips were quivering.\nMr. Moore looked up over his glasses. He did not feel in a laughing mood. He, too, was alarmed. \"Well, if an initiation did this to you, I call it nonsense. I disapprove of them!\" he bristled. \"A high school girl! A bunch of kids! That's all!\" Flopsy managed to say. \"The boys?\" Mrs. Moore repeated in amazement. \"What did they have to do with it?\" \"They followed us and followed us, and then they got into Helen Putnam's cellar. They heard everything! All our secrets!\" \"Oh!\" Mr. Moore relaxed. \"Well, don't tell me, that you are going to let a few half-baked young fools get you down?\" He grew annoyed, as he spoke, for his family pride demanded that Flopsy should not be vanquished. \"Who was it? How did it happen?\" Mrs. Moore intervened quickly.\nBill Forbes, Frank Gordon, and a boy named Wilton Locke. Flopsy shivered as she said the last name.\n\n\"Well!\" Mr. Moore exclaimed, \"I met that trio when I went around the corner to get a newspaper, and they said that they had just seen you. I was talking to Bill. Who was the apple-cheeked boy with the big brown eyes? He'd be very pretty, if he had a chin.\"\n\n\"Didn't have a what?\" Flopsy was startled out of her tragic pose.\n\n\"A chin!\" Mr. Moore touched his. \"You know, this formation of bone and flesh, most people have under their mouths.\"\n\nFor an instant, Flopsy forgot her recent calamity and stormed inwardly at her father's description of Wilton Locke. No chin! What a thing to say. And for that matter, she didn't relish \"apple-cheeked\" either. Her secret admiration for Wilton Locke was crumbling painfully.\n\n\"Well, why didn't the Putnams lock their cellar, or...\"\nMr. Moore tried to arouse Flopsy. \"Was it a flock against Locke?\" Poor Flopsy shook her head forlornly. \"Well, you're not going to let those boys have the last laugh, are you?\" His voice was raised. His daughter wasn't going to be ridiculed by a lot of stupid boys. \"We don't know what we are going to do.\" \"Well, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they had bothered you in the least. I'd laugh and be mysterious. That's the ticket.\" \"But they'll shout our password all over,\" Flopsy's voice shook. \"Listen to me, Flora Moore. You have none of the Moore blood in you if you cave in. Keep your chin up! You've got one, even if that apple-cheeked boy hasn't.\" \"Your father is right!\" Mrs. Moore laughed.\n\"Should you try at once to see how clever you can be? Don't let them feel that they have outwitted you. We were thinking of the Hamiltonian. They'll surely put something in about us. The whole school will know. They'll think it's a swell joke. So it is, but aren't you on the Hamiltonian? You can stop it from getting into the magazine. I don't think so \u2014 there are several members of Alpha Phi Psi on the Board, and they are our rivals. Flopsy looked very sad. Well, you won't be a joke if you laugh first. That's all I can say. Fix up a new sorority. That's the solution! We thought of that at once. That's what we'll have to do. I'd never let a chinless, half-baked boy get me down! Don't be a...\"\nMr. Moore approved as the Delta Sigma Delta sisters hung on telephone wires for a few days. Flopsy telephoned Alice, Rosemary telephoned Flopsy, Helen Putnam telephoned Rosemary, and Joan telephoned Flopsy. Entire families were on the verge of madness. Flopsy's Black Eye 119\n\nMothers were nearly wild. More than one father threatened to \"rip the darn telephone right out of the house.\" The boys were alarmingly silent. They said nothing, and the lack of comment made the girls both suspicious and uneasy.\n\nA meeting of the Hamiltonian Board was called three days later at 3:30 in the French classroom. Rosemary walked to the door of the room with Flopsy.\n\n\"Do your best! Find out all you can,\" she begged. \"Beware of Larry Dugan. I think he writes that\"\n\"Look Who's Here!'' in the 'Look Who's Here!' column. He is an Alpha Phi Psi member. Flopsy nodded, aware of the Delta Sigma Delta girls' responsibility on her shoulders. She was tasked with \"saving faces\" for them. The Hamiltonian was a magazine, while some nearby high schools had only newspapers. It was published quarterly, with the second issue due before Christmas. Flopsy was excited for this staff meeting, believing it was similar to the newspaper press process. She had watched, fascinated, the movie version of the newspaper business, and now seemed to be part of a similar atmosphere. The meeting was in an uproar as the printing teacher, Mr. Gilman, entered.\n\n\"Subside for a minute!\" he shouted. \"Have you finalized the articles?\"\nyoungsters got all your material in? The day after tomorrow is the deadline!\n\n120. Almost Fifteen.\n\nFlopsy loved that word deadline! It did sound like her conception of a newspaper.\n\n\"Dugan!\" Mr. Gilman roared, and he had to roar, or he wouldn't have been heard, \"don't take any more material for your 'Look Who's Here!' because we can't give any more space to it.\"\n\nFlopsy looked at Larry Dugan, her heart beating wildly. He caught her eye, gave her a big wink, and stuck his tongue in his cheek. This was far from reassuring. What he had in mind, she'd give the world and all to know!\n\n\"All club news must be in,\" Mr. Gilman continued. \"Eileen O'Brien, you haven't handed in your notes on the Glee Club or the French Club.\"\n\n\"Miss Moore, I understand that you are to take over the selection of the stories and poems submitted. How are you coming?\"\nI have an interesting story, I think. About the other, I can't say. She touched her forefinger to her lips. I wrote it! They all laughed.\n\n\"Be sure to let Miss Addison of the English Department see it as soon as possible,\" he said good-naturedly. \"I imagine it will get by if it's like your other two.\"\n\nWhen Flopsy got home that night, the telephone was ringing.\n\n\"Answer that, for goodness' sakes,\" Mrs. Moore called. \"It's nearly driven me mad for the last hour. Every last friend and acquaintance you have has called.\"\n\nFlopsy rushed to the telephone. It was Rosemary.\n\n\"Well, sugar plum, what did you find out?\" she asked breathlessly.\n\n\"Nothing! That old 'Look Who's Here' column is all 'set up.' Larry Dugan had a\"\nwicked look in his eye. He's up to something. You can't fool me. Isn't it simply terrible? We'll just have to wait.\n\n\"How long?\" Rosemary asked in a mock sepulchral tone.\n\n\"Nearly ten days,\" Flopsy informed her grimly.\n\n\"How do you like that?\"\n\n\"I don't, not one single bit,\" Rosemary laughed, \"but we won't weep, will we? We'll show them that we can take it!\"\n\n\"We sure will!\" Flopsy chirped.\n\nThere was nothing now for the Delta Sigma Deltas to do but wait.\n\nMeanwhile, Flopsy had something else to fret about - the Sophomore party. It was only four days away, and she hadn't had a bid. Alice had a coveted bid, for Frank Gordon had asked her. Flopsy was very much annoyed because Alice was strutting about as though she had been highly honored. To top it all, Fleurette had stopped her that morning on the way to school.\nAnd she asked, with a very self-satisfied expression, \"What are you going to wear to the Sophomore party?\" Then she watched Flopsy's face.\n\n\"Well, I haven't made up my mind yet,\" Flopsy replied, flushing.\n\n\"I'm getting a new dress,\" Fleurette purred, \"and new evening slippers.\"\n\nFlopsy's curiosity and her determination not to give Fleurette too much satisfaction wrestled. Finally, her curiosity prevailed. She was burning to know if Fleurette had a bid. She was frantically planning what she would say and do if Fleurette were really going.\n\n\"Who are you going with?\" Flopsy couldn't restrain the impulse any longer.\n\n\"With Harold Brownley,\" Fleurette tossed off lightly, as though acquiring the invitation had been a very simple matter. She'd hate Flopsy to know just how she had tricked the unsuspecting Harold into giving her the invitation.\nShe had deliberately secured the invitation and it had been a challenging task. Harold Brownley! Harold Brownley was in their graduating class at Number Nine, and Flopsy had always looked down upon him in contempt. He was just a sneak and a sissy in her estimation. Since then, he had grown taller, and now Flopsy thought he looked like a long, thin, yellow string bean. His hair was silvery white, as were his eyebrows and eyelashes. His skin was a pale yellow. He wasn't a prize, Flopsy thought, even though Fleurette was as proud as if she had won the most important medal in the world.\n\n\"Who are you going with?\" Fleurette persisted sweetly. She was getting even, she hoped, for the last week or two.\n\n\"That would be telling,\" Flopsy answered, with what she hoped was a mysterious smile. \"Won't you be coming too?\"\nFleurette looked disappointed and suspicious as she asked, \"Who is Bill Forbes going with?\" Her eyes were on Flopsy's face.\n\n\"Flopsy's Black Eye 123\"\n\n\"He's been walking home lately with Helen Putnam,\" Fleurette continued ruthlessly, hoping to irritate Flopsy. Flopsy's heart went down into her shoes at this news. She longed to say, \"I'm not going to the old thing. I'm not interested.\" But she was on the committee and felt obligated to go, as well as the possibility of getting a last-minute bid.\n\n\"Wouldn't you like to know?\" Flopsy snapped, her patience exhausted.\n\n\"He does know how to dance!\" Fleurette retorted unexpectedly.\nBoth girls were equally annoyed and dropped the subject. A heavy snow was falling, and they switched the conversation to the safe topic - the weather. That night, Flopsy reached home with a heavy heart. She had been getting more and more depressed all day, thinking only of the dance. It didn't seem possible that only a year or so ago she had hated boys and paid no attention to them. Now there was nothing on earth she wanted more than that one boy asking her to one dance. Mrs. Moore found her daughter curled up in a forlorn heap in a big chair.\n\n\"Have the boys published your secrets yet?\" Mrs. Moore asked.\n\n\"The Hamiltonian isn't out yet,\" Flopsy replied, her voice suspiciously husky.\n\n\"Come on, out with it,\" Mrs. Moore smiled.\n\"might as well tell me now. You always do in the end,\" she said. \"It's that old Sophomore Dance. I'm on the committee, and \u2014 her face flamed with misery and embarrassment, \"I have to go and I haven't had a bid.\" \"Ah!\" Mrs. Moore murmured. \"So that's it. One of life's little tragedies. Oh, I am not teasing you, my dear. I am sorry. I know how a thing like that can hurt a girl of your age. And for many years to come, situations like this may arise again. Flopsy, has it ever entered your pretty little red head that you have brought some of this on yourself? You see, you have gone around snubbing the boys and denouncing them all as \u2018pests.\u2019 Now you find that, after all, they come in quite handy at times. Other dances, other parties, will be coming. And you will want to go to them.\" \"I won't chase them the way other girls do.\"\n\"I won't go out with 'saps' and 'pills.' I'd rather stay home.\" Flopsy protested, but her voice was full of misery.\n\n\"Now, Flopsy,\" Mrs. Moore said soothingly, a quiet smile on her face, \"I wouldn't say that. A popular girl never does. And it never rings quite true, for it doesn't fool most people at all. I don't believe you really enjoy those very sour grapes you are chewing on. If you do, there certainly is no accounting for taste!\"\n\nFlopsy turned her head away. Mrs. Moore put her hand on her daughter's bright head.\n\n\"You know, I'd try, if I were you, being pleasant to all the boys. Play no favorites. Don't snub even the least of them, the lowliest 'pest' or 'pill.' These things get around, you know. The boys resent slights to their pals and friends from a silly girl who is 'priding' herself\"\nYou might do worse than going to a dance with a dull yellow string bean if you're 'fussy.' Boys would come asking for dances if you acted and looked as if you were having a good time. Once they realize what a barrel of fun our little redheaded Flopsy is, you will have plenty of bids.\n\nFlopsy was too wretched to take it all in. But some of it got under her skin. It didn't help her for this party in a few days. Not at all! In bed that night, she tried inventing excuses for her probable non-appearance at the party. She fell asleep just hating all boys. Her mother couldn't understand, for she had never really known the boys at Hamilton High!\n\nThe next afternoon, Flopsy had just said goodbye to Alice and resigned herself to walking the rest of the way home alone, when she heard a shout behind her.\nShe turned her head. Bill Forbes was sliding toward her on the icy pavement.\n\n\"Hello, Red!\" he called. \"How do you like oysters? Raw! Raw!\"\n\nFlopsy's temper began to rise. Although she had gotten over being irritated by the nickname \"Red,\" she did not like the reference to oysters. But her mother's advice of the day before came to mind. She stood waiting for him.\n\n\"It would be too bad if you fell, for I'd just let you lie there, and laugh myself sick!\" Flopsy's eyes were dancing and her dimples showed.\n\nWith one more long slide, Bill was at her side.\n\n\"Would you? Well, you've no idea how I laughed a few days ago. I didn't laugh until I was sick, I laughed until I was dead,\" Bill said.\n\n\"So that's what's the matter with you? You're dead. When is the funeral? I suppose, as treasurer, I'll have to...\"\nBill and Flopsy walked together, enjoying their brilliant conversation.\n\n\"By the way,\" Bill's face flushed, \"are you going to the Sophomore party?\"\n\nFlopsy shook her head. \"There's Frank. I have something to tell him.\"\n\nBill blew a long shrill whistle through his fingers, intent on attracting Frank's attention.\n\nFlopsy's heart couldn't turn over. It stopped beating altogether.\n\nAs Bill strode ahead in Frank's direction, he turned his head and tossed off, \"Say, how about my piloting your body down to that party?\"\n\n\"O.K.,\" Flopsy grinned.\n\nBill nodded and then began to sprint. Flopsy walked on air all the way home. Despite Bill not being handsome, he was.\nEverybody knew Hamilton, the future football star at school. No one could look down on him. He was much better than Frank Gordon or Harold Brownley. Flopsy was glad she didn't have to go to the dance with a \"string bean.\"\n\nFlopsy's Black Eye 127\n\nMrs. Moore was delighted. She had known how mortified Flopsy would have been if she had had to stay away from that dance because she didn't have a partner. Mrs. Moore had never forgotten her own high school days.\n\n\"What will I wear?\" Flopsy asked breathlessly.\n\n\"My dear, what can you wear except your bridesmaid dress? It's only a year old, and you've worn it only twice since then,\" Mrs. Moore suggested.\n\nFlopsy's face showed her disappointment. \"I suppose so,\" she said slowly, \"but I've grown since then, and it's too short!\"\n\n\"It must come to your ankles.\"\n\"But I\u2019d like a dress which came right down to the ground.\n\"Perhaps you\u2019ll be glad that you won\u2019t have a floor-length dress at your first dance. You might step on a longer one.\nFlopsy wasn\u2019t going to argue about anything. She was far too content. What a relief! She wouldn\u2019t let Alice or Fleurette know \u2013 not ever \u2013 just when had Bill asked her. She\u2019d be mysterious.\nThat night, she crept into her mother\u2019s room and removed the cherished hostess gown from its hanger. The previous night she had been too miserable to give it even a passing thought. She primped and preened before her mirror when she returned to her own room. She made believe she was \u201cflirting\u201d with her partners at the dance. What a lot of fun that must be! She couldn\u2019t wait to be eighteen.\nThe telephone rang downstairs.\n\"Flopsy! Flopsy!\" her mother called.\"\n128. Almost Fifteen.\nShe took off the hostess gown and flew downstairs. It was Alice. Could Flopsy go coasting! It was marvellous! The moon was full! Everyone would be there on the hill. Alice was sputtering with excitement.\n\n\"What time is it? I've got to do my homework,\" Flopsy called out, hoping to impress her parents.\n\n\"It's only seven-thirty! We can be in by nine. We're going to Magnolia Avenue. That isn't one of the streets set off by the police, but it's the best. Come on!\" Flopsy put her hand over the telephone and called, \"Mother, can I go coasting? Everyone is going. They say it's wonderful. I can get up early to do my work. I can, honestly. Can't I?\"\n\n\"You can of course! But the question is, may you?\"\nMr. Moore called back. Flopsy sighed. Her father always teased her about the difference between \"can\" and \"may.\"\n\n\"May I? Please, may I?\" Mrs. Moore came to her side. \"Perhaps it would be all right. I am having a committee meeting of the Hospital Board here tonight. The doorbell might disturb you at your homework. But be in by nine, or shortly after.\"\n\n\"O.K., Alice,\" Flopsy had turned back to the telephone. \"I'll be seeing you.\"\n\nFlopsy met Alice before they reached the top of Magnolia Avenue hill.\n\n\"Say, Flopsy, what do you know? What do you suppose? Who do you think's going to be on the hill tonight? Frank just told me. You'll never, never guess!\"\n\n\"Well, then, I give up!\" Flopsy was bubbling over. \"Milton Brooks!\"\n\n\"What's he doing home?\" Flopsy asked excitedly. It would be fun to see Milton again. He had been one of her classmates.\nThe group at Number Nine included Bill Forbes and his best friend. Forbes had been at prep school since summer.\n\n\"He had the flu and they sent him home. He's not returning until after the Christmas holidays.\"\n\n\"I must write Janet Dudley. Do you remember how he chased her all the time? I wonder if he's changed much?\"\n\n\"I heard he's grown stunning,\" Alice chirped, and Flopsy looked at her quickly. Alice was trying to take Janet's place.\n\n\"Oh, I just thought of something! I bet you'll wear your bridesmaid dress to the Sophomore party. We'll look like twins, won't we?\" Flopsy's voice was sparkling with excitement.\n\nAlice stared at her. She had thought Flopsy wouldn't get a bid to the Sophomore party.\n\n\"Who are you going with? You didn't tell me that.\"\nAlice returned abruptly. \"Of course I'm going. What did you think? I'm on the committee.\"\n\n\"Who with?\" Alice wanted to know.\n\n\"Somebody,\" Flopsy answered airily.\n\n\"You're being silly! What's the mystery?\" Alice's tone was suddenly irritable.\n\n\"The only mystery is, why are you so curious? Are you going to wear your bridesmaid dress? That's more important.\"\n\n\"I won't tell you until you tell me who is taking you to the dance.\"\n\n\"Well, if you must know, Bill Forbes.\"\n\nAlice stared at Flopsy intently. She wasn't at all sure she was pleased. Bill Forbes was beginning to be recognized as an important person at Hamilton. Frank, she was sure, never would be. And Flopsy watched her most intimate friend closely, knowing her so well that she could sense her reaction.\nFlopsy felt pleased and satisfied as she knew Alice was realizing Bill would be a leader.\n\n\"When did he ask you?\" Alice asked after a pause.\n\n\"Quite a while ago,\" Flopsy answered promptly.\n\nFour hours was quite a while.\n\n\"Why didn't you tell me?\" Alice was frowning.\n\n\"Because and because! Let's run. I can hear the others shouting!\" Flopsy was bubbling over as usual.\n\n\"How do you like your oysters? Rawl Raw!\" two boys' voices shouted boisterously. The girls turned their heads. Bill Forbes was hurrying toward them, and, in the bright moonlight, they could see the other boy was Milton Brooks.\n\nMilton Brooks had grown up in a few months. He was nearly sixteen, but he looked eighteen. Flopsy noticed Alice was right. He was stunning, simply stunning.\nMilton grinned as he approached, flashing a row of beautiful white teeth. \"Well, how's it going, Flopsy?\" he asked. Flopsy tried to think of a movie star who resembled Milton, but couldn't quite place it. She remembered to include Bill in her smile, grateful for his help during a difficult moment in her life.\n\n\"Well, well,\" Milton approved, looking at Flopsy. \"Our redhead is growing up. Not bad, not half bad. What do you think, Bill? I wouldn't call her a unique freak, would you?\"\n\nFlopsy was delighted. It was the first time since her initiation that she could laugh about it.\n\n\"Hello, Milton!\" Alice interjected. \"Remember me?\"\n\"Frank deporting himself these days? Good old Frankie,\" he said in a condescending tone, annoying Alice. She knew Milton had never liked Frank Gordon.\n\n\"Ask them again, Milt, how they like their oysters?\" Bill prompted. \"Especially the little redhead! Ask her how she likes munching a toad. Yum! yum! Nice, so squashy and tasty.\"\n\nThe girls squealed, and Flopsy rolled her eyes and groaned. The boys let out a whoop of joy. Milton decided that teasing Flopsy would be more fun than he'd had in weeks.\n\n\"How about someone lending a guy a sled so he can take the little redhead for a ride?\" Milton turned to Bill.\n\nBill did not look altogether pleased at this broad hint.\n\n\"OK.\" he agreed abruptly, and handed his sled to Milton.\n\nAfter Milton had walked off with Flopsy and his sled,\nBill discovered that Flopsy had left hers behind. \"Well, I like his nerve!\" Bill scowled. \"How about you and me, Alice?\"\n\n\"You can take my sled,\" Alice offered eagerly.\n\n\"Oke!\" Bill answered shortly.\n\nThey stood on a very steep hill, and a sheet of rough, broken ice covered its surface. At its foot, a road ran parallel to the river. Along the river bank, and just beyond the road, was a stone retaining wall.\n\nBill and Milton took turns taking the \"redhead\" down the hill, and Flopsy began to wonder if this sudden popularity wasn't as much of a problem as her desperate yearning for just one boy friend to take her to the dance.\n\n\"Do you ever go to the movies in the evening?\" Milton asked her, and Bill looked startled.\n\n\"Sometimes,\" Flopsy answered cautiously.\nShe had never been to a movie with a boy. \"Couldn't we go to the first show, sometime?\" Milton suggested. \"I have to get in early these nights. My Dad wants me home every night by ten. You see, I'm still supposed to be an invalid.\" \"I couldn't stay out later than ten myself,\" Flopsy answered uneasily. \"Bill scowled sulkily. I think I'd like to go down the hill by myself,\" Flopsy interrupted quickly. \"I'll take my own sled.\" Flopsy's Black Eye 133\nShe threw herself down flat on her brother's sled, the way children do, and ignored both boys. The sled hardly seemed to touch the icy ground as it shot swiftly down the almost perpendicular incline. As Flopsy neared the bottom, she knew she would have to make a broad turn onto the road along the river. To her horror, the steering apparatus would not respond.\nShe tugged at it frantically. She was almost at the foot of the hill. She tugged again. Now, she was crossing the road at the foot of the hill, but she could not stop or swerve the sled! She had a decision to make in one ghastly second. Should she take the stone wall with the top of her head, or with her face? She had a beautiful vision of how her face must look at the Sophomore dance. She lowered her head.\n\nAnd then, as in a confused dream, Flopsy felt people tugging at her. Someone was saying from way, way off, \"It\u2019s good that there was some snow piled up against that wall.\"\n\n\"And it\u2019s fortunate she had on a hood!\"\n\n\"Do you think she is unconscious?\" This voice sounded closer.\n\n\"Oh, yes, her eyes are open. You are conscious, aren't you, Flopsy?\" The person now talking was very close.\n\n\"She acts pretty darn funny to me. She\u2019s knocked out.\"\n\"This voice howled in her ear like the wind. She had come back to earth with a bang! \"I am not knocked unconscious! I am not knocked silly!\" Good gracious, where had her voice gone? It came roaring to her from an enormous distance. She wished things and people would stay near her. She shook herself and clutched at an arm near her, clinging to it tightly. She was delighted to hear Bill's voice.\n\n\"O.K. Flopsy. Everything all right?\" he asked anxiously.\n\n\"Oh, yes! Yes!\" she pulled her arm away. Then she blinked and closed her eyes. She opened them again wide. She saw the hill glistening like diamonds, in the brilliant moonlight. She saw the coasters, but now most of them were crowded around her.\n\n\"How are you, Flopsy?\" Alice's tone was full of anxiety.\n\n\"Oh, I am perfectly all right! Perfectly!\" she shook her head.\"\nShe beat the snow off her ski suit and Milton shouted, \"She's all right! A miracle!\" Flopsy stood up and took a few steps forward. Bill grabbed her arm. \"Listen to me,\" he said. \"You aren't going down that hill again alone. You don't know how to steer.\" Flopsy said nothing. She felt funny, light-headed. She couldn't think. She couldn't answer Bill's order. \"I thought she was dead,\" someone said. \"She surely looked dead when we picked her up.\" Bill and Milton were propelling her up the hill, one at either side of her. Flopsy blinked. Her eyes were dazzled by the shimmering glitter of ice. The road up that hill seemed to go up and up, until it was lost in the starry sky above. Maybe she was dead after all. That was it! She was dead, and she was climbing a glowing white path of glory right up to the Pearly Gates.\nThe girls would be surprised if Flopsy floated out of their hold and disappeared into the moonlit heavens at the top of this hill. Milton pulled her curls, but she couldn't feel it. She heard him talking in a funny, hazy way. Everything had been mixed up since she hit the stone wall.\n\n\"Look, Bill, look at her hair! It's the same color as our Irish setter, \u2018Erin.\u2019 Not bad! Not at all bad!\" Bill laughed, but not heartily. He wished Milton wouldn't bother him with questions about Flopsy. He didn't see why he was suddenly so interested.\n\n\"Are you sure you're all right?\" Bill asked as soon as they reached the top of the hill.\n\nFlopsy nodded mechanically. She wasn't sure of anything. She still felt too lightheaded to think. But, apparently, she wasn't dead. At least she wasn't floating away.\nI'll take your sled, Flopsy, Bill said with a swagger. I'll show you how to steer it around a corner. You shouldn't try to knock chunks out of a stone wall with your head. The town will sue you. They put that stone wall there for a purpose. Come on, hitch on behind.\n\nFlopsy did as she was told without a murmur. She held on tightly to Bill as Milton gave them a violent push. The sled streaked down the hill, as though shot from a cannon. When it hit a bump, it flew into the air and then bounced back again, only to go still faster and faster.\n\n\"GANGWAY! GANGWAY!\" Bill was shouting at the top of his lungs. The boys and girls, who were dragging their sleds up the hill, scattered to right and left. Then they stood still and watched. How would Flopsy fare this time? She had frightened them for a while.\nBill and yet, the exciting prospect of an ambulance skidding down that hill had rather thrilled them. The flying sled was almost at the foot of the hill. Bill, conscious of his audience, was preparing to make a grandstand play. He was going to whiz around that corner in a way which would make the others gasp and cheer. He'd show them! He'd show Flopsy! He pulled at the steering gear. It would not move! He tugged and tugged. It would not budge. He bent his arms and, with a violent back shove, used his elbows to push Flopsy off the sled. He must throw her. She couldn't go into that wall again! Then he threw himself. He sat up and turned his head to see what had happened. The sled was sliding over the ice, its speed lessened, now that it was empty. After it, Flopsy came sliding \u2014 on her face \u2014 over the broken bits of ice.\nBill scrambled to his feet and bent over Flopsy as every boy and girl on the hill crowded around them. Milton and Alice pushed their way through.\n\n\"What happened?\" Milton demanded.\n\n\"I'll bet she's really dead now,\" Alice's face was ghastly in the moonlight. She was thoroughly frightened.\n\n\"The steering gear on her sled is broken. It wouldn't move. I had the presence of mind to throw her.\" Bill had dragged Flopsy to her feet. She knew at once she wasn't dead. Her face hurt too much. She put her hands up to it. It stung and smarted.\n\n\"Look! Look!\" Alice cried out, \"she's bleeding to death.\" Alice took her handkerchief and gently daubed Flopsy's face.\n\n\"Oh -- O -- O,\" Flopsy wailed. \"Tell me, have I got a face? Or is it frozen, or is it falling apart?\" Then that word bleeding penetrated into her brain. \"Oh, am I dying?\"\n\"One side! One side!\" Bill ordered, pushing the crowd away. \"We've got to get her home. She must have a doctor.\" The crowd obediently parted, letting Flopsy through. Alice followed behind the boys as they almost carried Flopsy up the hill.\n\n\"Oh, Flopsy! My heart stopped when I saw you go over. It was terrible.\"\n\n\"Am I bleeding?\" Flopsy wailed, touching her face again. \"Where's my nose? Isn't it on my face?\" She let out a feeble squeak. \"I don't feel it.\"\n\nMilton and Bill stood still and stared at her.\n\n\"Don't worry! Your nose is there all right, but it's...\" Bill hesitated.\n\n\"It's what?\" Flopsy began to cry.\n\n\"Maybe it's broken. It's...\"\n\nFlopsy's knees collapsed under her. \"It's what?\" she repeated.\n\n\"Oh, subside, Bill!\" Milton glared at him. \"Don't scare her to death.\" He yanked Flopsy to her feet again.\n\"It's nothing! You'll probably only have a shiner, Flopsy,\" Bill tried to be cheerful. \"A shiner! What's that?\" Flopsy echoed, and her head fell on one side. \"Maybe her neck's broken!\" Alice shrieked wildly. \"Look at the way her head is now! It's falling off!\" \"Use your heads! And don't come in, Alice, when we get to her home. You'll only get excited,\" Milton snapped. \"Do you remember the time Milt and I caught you when you tumbled down the old hill at the reservoir when we were skating? Wasn't it funny? We are always around,\" Flopsy paid no attention. They were now on her street. She looked eagerly ahead for her house. \"Oh \u2014 O \u2014 0 \u2014 \" \u2014 she gasped. \"I may have a nose, but you can't fool me. I've only got one eye,\" Milton gave Bill a warning look. The boys didn't contradict her. She only had one eye at the moment,\nThe boys rang the Moore's doorbell. Mrs. Moore excused herself from her guests and came to answer. Bill and Milton dragged their now sagging burden into the hall. Mrs. Moore looked completely stunned.\n\n\"We think she's been hurt,\" Bill explained. He couldn't say too much. He couldn't frighten Mrs. Moore out of her wits.\n\n\"You think -,\" Mrs. Moore gasped. \"Oh, my darling! What has happened? Flopsy, dear. Oh, my baby.\" She took her daughter into her arms. \"Call a doctor. Robert! Robert!\" she screamed. Her husband had been upstairs and almost fell down the stairs in his haste to respond to his wife's terrified call for help. All the guests were offering assistance at once. One of them had the sense to telephone a doctor.\n\n\"We think she's been hurt,\" Bill explained to Mr. Moore.\n\n140 Almost Fifteen.\nHe found his daughter lying limp and battered on the davenport. \"What happened?'' he asked, bending over his child. \"What is it?\" He turned to the boys. \"What happened to her?\"\n\n\"The steering gear on her sled was broken,\" Bill explained. \"I couldn't turn the corner. I knew we'd hit the stone wall, so I had the presence of mind to push her off. I shoved her.\"\n\nEveryone in the room listened to Bill, who had the center of the floor. He felt like the hero in a major catastrophe.\n\n\"She'll probably just have a black eye,\" Milton consoled.\n\n\"Her face is in ribbons,\" Mr. Moore looked down at his woebegone daughter compassionately. He lifted her in his arms. \"Put your arms around Daddy's neck, sweetheart. I'll carry you upstairs. Oh, you funny little Calamity Jane.\" His voice was suspiciously husky. \"You'll be all right, all right. And the black eye is...\"\nHe was going to be the prettiest thing you've ever had in your life.\" He started toward the stairs with his burden in his arms. Then his own nerve cracked. \"Get the doctor! Where is he? What's keeping him? Call another! Call every doctor in town, if necessary. BUT GET ONE!\" He roared as he climbed the stairs. \"Get every blooming doctor in this town. Line them up!\"\n\nChapter Six\nSurprises for Flopsy\n\nBill was very reluctant to go home. Milton kept pulling him by the arm and jerking his head toward the door. The hint was not taken. Bill told the story over and over. Each time as he finished it, he threw out his chest and boasted, \"And I had the presence of mind to throw her. I couldn't let her take that stone wall for a second time.\" If his ardor for this recital was not dampened by the fact that no one listened.\nHe told him he deserved the Carnegie Medal, but he didn't show it. He was having a rare old time! Flopsy had been laid on her bed. Mrs. Moore had swept the hostess gown from it to make room for her, without realizing it was out of its proper place. When the doctor arrived, he looked Flopsy over carefully. Then, rubbing his hands together, he said with a broad grin, \"You are going to have one of the most beautiful black eyes that it will ever be your pleasure to behold, young lady! I trust you are not planning on getting married or on going to a party with your best beau?\" Flopsy sat up in bed with a little shriek. \"Oh, goodness! The Sophomore party! Will it be all right in two days? Will my eye be better by then?\"\n\n\"Your eye by then, my dear young lady, may be just fine.\" (142) Almost Fifteen.\n\"What are your high school colors, Flopsy?\"\n\"Blue and gold!\" she answered blankly. Tears filled her one good eye.\n\"What, no black? Well, there will be plenty of blue and some gold. Your eye will be all decked out in most of your high school colors.\"\nFlopsy lay back on her bed. Oh dear! Her head ached so, she couldn't think clearly. But it was just awful!\n\"Those are just surface scratches on her face. Fortunately, they will heal in a week, I imagine. The ice has stung her face, but it hasn't cut in deeply. She must have slid over the roughest places without touching them. Now, don't look so sad and forlorn, sister. You are a mighty lucky girl. You might have fractured your skull on your first attempt to wreck yourself. Instead, you were only knocked silly.\"\n\"And the second time, you could have gotten cuts on your pretty little face that would have necessitated clips. Then you might have had scars. You ought to be thankful that you were born under a lucky star. You were lucky, darn lucky! \"Lucky, lucky, lucky!\" That's all Flopsy could get out of this rigamarole. What was he saying lucky for, over and over? \"Lucky!\" she wailed. \"What was lucky about it? I've got a black eye. My face is all scratched up and I can't go to the Sophomore party. And I wanted to go!\" She began to cry. \"I'm not saying you can't go. Don't blame me for keeping you away. You can go if you like, and dance to your heart's content. There's nothing the matter with your legs. And that red head of yours may make you popular.\" Surprises for Flopsy 143. \"I'm not saying you can't go... You can go if you like...\"\nThe boys overlooked a lot. You would be decorated with the school colors, as you mentioned.\n\n\"Oh \u2014\" Flopsy turned her head crossly. She longed to tell good old Dr. Graham to keep quiet. He was just teasing her for all he was worth! Her parents looked so happily relieved. She wished she had fractured her skull! She'd have enjoyed seeing them all heartbroken!\n\nThe next morning, practically everyone in town phoned Flopsy's home. Every time the bell rang, she cocked her ear, her heart beating with excitement. She loved to hear her mother repeat the story, over and over. She was thrilled when she heard, \"I never was as frightened in my life as when she was brought into the house. And my poor husband was scared right out of his wits. He just idolizes that daughter of his, you know.\"\nFlopsy felt this compensated for a lot. For one thing, it made it easier to bear the sight of the face she saw in the mirror. She felt like a heroine in a great tragedy. It annoyed her considerably when she was just out of earshot and couldn't hear everything her mother was saying on the telephone. Sometimes her mother left out some sensational detail, and it was all she could do to keep from calling out to her and prompting, \"Mother, you forgot to say she was nearly knocked unconscious, and that the hood on her ski suit probably saved her life.\"\n\nFleurette was the first of Flopsy's friends to arrive at the house after school that day. She looked awe-struck. She was deeply impressed. That was one thing Flopsy had always liked about Fleurette; she never belittled a thrill or a tragedy. She enjoyed having either.\n\"Oh, it\u2019s just terrible!\" Fleurette said, feeling sorry for you. Your face looks awful, and it must be painful. You poor kid! And you can\u2019t go to the Sophomore dance. That\u2019s mean. We\u2019ll miss you. It\u2019s never any real fun when you\u2019re not around. My mother feels so sorry. She nearly fainted when I told her you were almost killed. She had a heart palpitation. She sent over a lemon chiffon pie for you. I gave it to your mother. Tomorrow, I think the Hamiltonian will be out. I\u2019ll get you one. Goodbye, Flopsy darling,\" Fleurette leaned over and kissed her friend. \"Oh, am I glad you\u2019re not dead! Wouldn\u2019t that have been awful?\" Fleurette's eyes filled with tears. \"I suppose I\u2019d have been a pallbearer. And I am sure I\u2019d have nearly died myself. I don\u2019t think I could have stood it \u2014\" her voice broke.\nFlopsy's one good eye filled up and overflowed with tears. The other one was shut tightly. Her voice trembled as she spoke. \"That's very sweet of you, Fleurette. I appreciate it \u2014 \" Both girls began to cry. It was all very sad and very sweet. Flopsy decided that she would remember, all her life, how Fleurette's eyes had filled with tears at the thought of being her pallbearer. Fleurette was a real and sincere friend.\n\n\"Milton Brooks asked me to go to the movies with him,\" Flopsy's voice choked again over this.\n\n\"Oh, that's so mean!\" Fleurette cried. \"And I bet you can't go with him. Isn't that terrible! I'll bet, too, it would have made Alice jealous, because she really doesn't think Frank's so much!\"\n\nFlopsy was beautifully overcome. She couldn't speak. Fleurette leaned over and kissed her again. And then\nShe went, leaving Flopsy more satisfied than she had been for a long time. Four of the former Delta Sigma Deltas came next. Rosemary had warned them they must make Flopsy laugh. One should always be gay and funny when calling on a sick person!\n\n\"Now, Alice, don't sympathize with her too much!\" she cautioned. Alice did not need this warning. Having recovered from her fright of the night before and knowing that Flopsy was in no danger, it would never have entered her matter-of-fact head to waste too much pity. Flopsy was getting plenty of attention and sympathy, and Alice knew her well enough to know she would like this display.\n\nAlice, Rosemary, Helen, and Joan chattered glibly and lightly as they sat in the living room, around Flopsy who was on the davenport. She was none too pleased.\nThey didn't realize she had nearly been killed.\n\n\"Everyone is talking about you!\" Rosemary smiled. \"You are quite a heroine.\"\n\n\"Not everyone!\" Alice laughed. \"Not everyone knows. But some people are wondering why you went down the hill the second time on that broken sled. They think that was a crazy thing to do.\"\n\nFlopsy was annoyed. She just knew Alice was jealous and didn't like everyone talking about her.\n\n\"I guess you don't realize, Alice,\" Flopsy retorted coldly, \"that I was practically unconscious when I walked up that hill. I didn't know what I was doing. Unconscious on my feet! I guess you never heard of that!\"\n\nAlice hadn't. And she was sure no one else had either.\n\n\"Well, maybe,\" Alice raised her eyebrows, \"but it's a good thing Bill Forbes kept his senses and had the presence of mind to throw you.\"\nFlopsy had been reclining. Now, she sat bolt upright. She was furious. \"I've heard that six times! Bill Forbes had the presence of mind to throw me off that sled. Well, if that's the kind of mind he has, I wish he had lost it, instead of keeping it. Why didn't he tell me to throw myself off? I would have put my arms over my face. He threw himself, and I bet he isn't all scratched up!\"\n\n\"That's a thought, but don't be too hard on poor Bill,\" Rosemary said soothingly. \"He was really cut up in other ways. And he won't have a partner for your Sophomore party. Everyone knows he was going with you, and he can't ask another girl. She'd know she was second fiddle.\"\n\n\"Isn't that just too bad!\" Flopsy snorted. But she did feel better. She was glad that everyone knew she had been invited to the Sophomore party. That was something at least!\n\"And I'm so sorry for Milton Brooks/\u2019 Flopsy purred sweetly. She hoped this would annoy Alice. \"He asked me to go to the movies.\"\n\nFlopsy had her wish. Alice was annoyed, but she felt a little ashamed of herself. She shouldn't have irritated Flopsy when she had been hurt. She kept silent. Flopsy knew Alice's silences and never liked them. She wished the girls would go right straight home. Not one of them was treating her almost fatal accident with the proper respect or consideration. Joan and Helen didn't seem to want to talk about it. They wanted to talk about what would be in the Hamiltonian about their sorority. That was far more important to them than the fact that their sorority sister Flopsy had nearly been killed, and was at this moment lying before their eyes all battered and bruised. Flopsy decided to grow...\"\n\"She closed the only eye she could of her own volition. Over the other one, she had no control.\n\n\"I think Flopsy's getting tired,\" Rosemary stood up. \"Goodbye, honey-chile, and I do hope you'll get rid of that black eye so it won't spoil your Christmas holidays. And we will bring you a copy of the Hamiltonian the minute it's out.\"\n\nThe others stood. Helen wailed, \"Oh, I do hope they don't put in a lot of stuff about our sorority. It will make some of those girls we turned down just too happy! Won't they laugh!\"\n\n\"Goodbye, Flopsy,\" Alice leaned over and kissed Flopsy's forehead. \"We will miss you at the party. But I'll do your work on the committee for you.\"\n\n\"Goodbye!\" Flopsy made her voice sound weak and listless. \"Come again. And don't stay so long.\"\n\nAfter the girls had gone, she was\"\nShe tried to think of Fleurette instead of the last callers. They acted as if it were nothing to have one eye swollen shut and a face scratched from chin to forehead. She missed out on many nice things and wished the telephone would ring so she could hear her mother say \"We nearly lost our child last night.\" She went upstairs to talk to her mother, but saw Milton and Bill coming up the walk. She retreated back to the davenport and arranged the pillows carefully before lying on it with her black eye, hoping the pillow would hide it. The doorbell rang twice. Mrs. Moore hurried down the stairs.\n\n\"How is Flopsy today, Mrs. Moore?\" Bill asked as the door was opened.\nShe sent over this jar of jelly. \"Why is she around here?\" Mrs. Moore looked around. \"The girls were just here to see her. Poor child, she is quite miserable. Her face is badly scratched and swollen. But we are thankful that it was no worse.\"\n\n\"We were pretty scared last night,\" Milton put in. \"And I'm glad I had the presence of mind to throw her. She couldn't have banged against that stone wall with her head twice,\" Bill continued.\n\nFlopsy snorted angrily. She wished she could yell, \"Raspberries!\"\n\n\"Do come in a minute and say, 'Hello,'\" Mrs. Moore invited. Then she called, \"Flopsy!\"\n\n\"Here I am,\" Flopsy's voice sounded so weak and so far away, that it didn't even seem possible she was on this earth with them.\n\nMrs. Moore led the boys in to the davenport. \"Here is some more company for you, darling, Milton and Bill.\"\nBill: She's doing very nicely today. So many people have sent things in.\n\nHello, Flopsy! Bill looked embarrassed and self-conscious. \"You are going to get some flowers from the Sophomore class. Did they come?\"\n\nFlopsy was pleased at this. Her one visible eye smiled amid the pillows, and she shook her head.\n\nMrs. Moore left them. The boys pulled their chairs close, and Milton recovered his tongue first.\n\n\"Well, little Redhead, we've just come from that stone wall. We wanted to see if you had damaged it. We didn't want the town to sue you for destroying public property.\"\n\nFlopsy laughed. She really didn't want to laugh. She wanted to look sweet and, oh so appealing!\n\n\"I'll bring you a copy of the Hamiltonian when it comes out,\" Bill promised.\n\nFlopsy giggled. She began counting on her fingers. \"That will make at least ten I'm going to have.\"\nIf there's anything about \"Oysters!\", Bill finished with a grin, \"you'll give me a black eye.\" Flopsy forgot her own black eye for a minute and sat up. The two boys looked at her in stunned amazement, and then they let out one wild hoot of laughter. They rocked in their chairs. Tears came to their eyes. They held their sides.\n\nFlopsy was so surprised for a few seconds that she couldn't get her wits to work. What were these big idiots laughing at? Then she knew! She gave them both one black look out of one blazing brown eye. That eye looked furious enough for two perfectly good eyes working together in a tempestuous storm. She snatched up first one pillow and then another and hurled them at the boys. In a few seconds, all the pillows on the davenport were gone. Flopsy stood up.\nAnd looked around with one raging eye to find something else to throw. Milton, weak from laughter, still had enough strength to stand up. He grabbed Flopsy's hands and held them. \"Hey there, you little wildcat. Say, Bill, grab that vase there, or she'll use it to crack our heads open.\" Flopsy kicked him in the shins. She was in a fury. How dare they laugh at her black eye? She'd show them. Milton still held her hands but had to move to avoid her feet. \"We are sorry! We apologize \u2013 don't we, Bill? Listen, hot-headed little Redhead, we are SORRY!\" He released her hands and pinned her arms behind her. \"Now, give Bill a good kick. He deserves one, too. He laughed as hard as I did.\" \"Willingly and gladly,\" Flopsy obeyed. She gave Bill the hardest kick in the shins that she could. It was quite equal in its force to any of those she'd given him before.\nMilton limped around holding his ankle, yelping in pain. Surprises for Flopsy, number 151. Mrs. Moore heard the laughter and commotion upstairs and smiled. Flopsy was having a good time, she thought. It would be good for her. Exhausted, Flopsy threw herself down on the davenport and put her elbows over her face. With one big brown eye, she peered out, watching Bill as he limped around. She felt satisfied. She hoped they were both black and blue. The boys wanted to laugh at her funny appearance, but on second thought, they decided it would be unwise. After all, Flopsy had managed to get in a few robust kicks.\n\n\"I'm sorry. Honest, I am!\" Bill said with a contrite grin. \"But don't worry, Flopsy, you're even. I may need crutches tomorrow,\" and Flopsy couldn't help laughing.\n\"Milton taunted, \"Look at her, Milton taunted, laughing because you're lame, Bill. Shouldn't we throw the pillows back at her?\" Milton picked one up and tossed it. She caught it. Bill followed suit, gently.\n\n\"Sorry you can't go to the party,\" Bill looked embarrassed.\n\n\"And I am sorry you can't go to the movies,\" Milton added.\n\nFlopsy was satisfied. She had punished them and made them sorry, sorry for everything.\n\n\"We will have a date for the Easter holidays, won't we, Redhead?\" Milton asked. The boys were ready to go.\n\nDespite a swollen eye and scratches from one end of her face to another, she felt like the belle of any ball. She walked to the door with them. Bill looked out the window. A florist's truck was in front of the house.\n\n\"I bet you are getting the Sophomore flowers,\"\nBill grinned at you and said, \"You might give us a few, but we're lame.\" The two boys limped away from the house in an exaggerated fashion. Flopsy wanted to stay and watch them, but she really couldn't. She didn't want the florist's boy to see her. She couldn't very well kick him in the shins if he laughed! It was the first bouquet she had ever received due to illness, and she felt very proud of it. This incident had had a few compensations.\n\nThe Hamiltonian wasn't out the next day, and Flopsy spent a rather lonely, miserable time. Not many people called, and the girls only telephoned. There was such a short time now to the Christmas vacation that everyone was busy. She had moments of feeling very sorry for herself. She couldn't read very well, for although she could now open her eye, it was still uncomfortably swollen. And she did love her illness, for it had brought her this beautiful bouquet.\nReading this, and the thought that she was going to miss the first party a boy had invited her to as his partner was always depressing. On the second day after the girls had called, Rose dashed up the steps of Flopsy's home at noon. Flopsy saw her coming and ran to the door. \"One of my boy friends brought me up in his car, bless his heart. Here, take this Hamiltonian and weep. I'll be seeing you!\" She handed Flopsy a copy of the school paper and screwed her face up into a sad grimace.\n\nSurprises for Flopsy 153\n\n\"I can't stop now, but I got it to you as soon as I could. I just met Jerry and he said he'd drive me up. Bye!\" And she flew down the walk. Flopsy's heart was pounding with excitement. Now what? What had those awful boys put in? She felt that she must turn first to see her name listed on the list.\nThe editorial staff of the Hamiltonian. Under the Editor-in-chief's name, Flora M. Moore, was listed Associate Editor. She purred over it. It wasn't often that a mere Sophomore B had this distinction. Now she must find her story, but this was no particular thrill, for it was her third to appear in print. It was called \"Detective Dick.\" It was a mock mystery story.\n\nWell, it looked nice anyway. She glanced over the various club notes. She was really almost afraid to read that \"Look Who's Here!\" column. She turned to it at last, her heart in her mouth. She stared uncomprehendingly at the first item. She read it three times. It had Bill Forbes' name in it, so she had to know what it was all about.\n\n\"Bill Forbes is seeing RED these days! And would you believe it, it gives him MORE fun! But isn't a 'BILL' always right with the RED?\"\nFor goodness' sake! This must be about her.\nShe was weak in spelling and realized that \"more\" should not be spelled with two \"o's.\" She began to understand. She read the item carefully. She would really have to, as her mother might not get the point at once. Let me see, she mused to herself. A \"bill\" is something you get for gas and electricity and a lot of things. Yes, and being in debt for a bill had something to do with \"the Red.\" She felt quite satisfied now. She had felt she must analyze this joke, as others might not be so clever.\nShe giggled. She wasn't crazy about Bill. She had known him for ages, but it was a thrill getting her name in the \"Look Who's Here\" column with a boy's. All the other girls just loved it! But they made believe they were angry when they saw their names listed together.\nShe'd act like the other girls, pretending to be angry. She'd toss her head and declare, \"That's just silly! It makes me mad!\" After tearing this item to pieces, she looked further down the column. Rosemary's name was listed among several boys'. Suddenly, she didn't need to feign anger. She was genuinely furious. Her eyes blazed as she read.\n\n\"Some girls in Hamilton take great pride in being Unique Freaks,\" the text continued. \"Ask them. Here are their initials: R.B., H.P., F.M., A.H.\"\n\nThese Unique Freaks had a unique diet. They adored worms and horned toads. They spoke a strange language.\n\"Up to one of them and say, Transmagnificandudalcialto. Watch her smile! After coming out of the hospital, just change your language to Greek and say \u2018Delta Sigma Delta\u2019. Ask Flopsy how she likes her oysters. Raw?\n\nSurprises for Flopsy\n\nFlopsy wailed loudly, \u201cMother!\u201d If she had only broken Bill Forbes\u2019 leg the day before! If she had only scratched his eyes out. She hated him. It was all his fault. And it was his fault she had a black eye. Now every boy and girl knew the Delta Sigma Delta secrets \u2014 every one! Wouldn\u2019t they laugh? Oh, she just wished Bill would call on her this afternoon. She'd bet he hadn\u2019t written this, though, it was too clever, even for Bill. It was Wilton Locke. Wilton Locke! That big apple-cheeked chinless nit-wit!\"\nHer daughter, Storm. At last, Flopsy sat quite still. There was nothing more she could say at the moment. She had only one more shot to fire.\n\n\"Now, I am glad I am not going to the Sophomore dance with Bill Forbes. I just hate him,\" Flopsy said.\n\nMrs. Moore looked up. The corners of her mouth were moving suspiciously.\n\n\"I thought you'd decided never to give the boys the satisfaction of knowing that they had disturbed you. I thought you were going to laugh at them,\" Mrs. Moore remarked.\n\n\"You don't think that's funny, do you, mother?\" Flopsy asked, unbelieving and appalled. \"And that crack about how I like oysters? Bill says it over and over. A joke isn't funny when it's said ten million times. Especially if it wasn't funny in the first place.\"\n\n\"I am at least satisfied that you are content not to go to the Sophomore party, honey. That's a big load off my mind,\" Mrs. Moore replied.\nMrs. Moore looked critically at one of Dickie's socks. Flopsy stared at her mother, unable to express her real feelings. After a silence, she sputtered, \"I can't wait for the girls to come home from school. I must telephone them!\"\n\n\"Gracious!\" Mrs. Moore put down her darning. \"Is that going to start all over? I must telephone my orders at once. The telephone will be in use for hours.\" She stood up and patted her daughter's head. \"Until then, I'd suggest you think up some new Greek letters and a password. It would keep your mind busy.\" Mrs. Moore went downstairs.\n\nMrs. Moore did her ordering right then, for after the next hour or so, the telephone was busy until dinner.\nShe had heard the whole Greek alphabet juggled about, making her head spin. At last, a solution occurred to her. She tapped Flopsy on the head and put her finger over her lips, cautioning her.\n\n\"Flopsy!\" she warned, \"if you want those letters to be a secret, be careful. A telephone is not the most private thing in the world by any means! Have a meeting about all this.\"\n\nFlopsy nodded. They'd better have a meeting. But she'd have to telephone each girl and tell her not to use the telephone again. Mrs. Moore went out into the kitchen muttering to herself, \"You can't win!\"\n\nThe Sophomore party was the following night. Although Flopsy had announced that she didn't want to go anywhere with Bill Forbes, she looked very forlorn.\nAt being allowed to stay home, her eye was at Surprises for Flopsy, 157 - the rainbow stage. It was red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet. She looked at herself in the mirror, utterly disgusted. The rainbow looked lovely in a summer sky, but did not look lovely on her face! Flopsy's eyes filled with tears. She didn't want to go out with Bill Forbes, but she hated to think that Alice Holt was strutting around as chairman of the reception committee. That's what was making her furious right now. She decided she'd curl up in the chair in her room and amuse herself with her thoughts. She had now planned that Milton Brooks should be her secret \"crush\" instead of Wilton Locke. He had a lot more sense than Bill Forbes. And - and - well, she could think of a lot of things in his favor. His hair lay down in beautiful waves.\nFlopsy debated getting her mother's hostess gown and primping before the mirror. She'd use her imagination to see herself in a lovely new, long evening dress. But it would be a test and a strain on her imagination to expect it to remove the many colored black eye from her face. But there was no limit to her imagination. Flopsy, undaunted, went to her mother's closet. She was just about to take the hostess gown from its hook when the telephone rang.\nFlopsy stood still and listened as her mother answered the call.\n\n\"Flopsy! Flopsy!\" Mrs. Moore called, \"Flopsy!\"\n\n\"Almost Fifteen,\" Flopsy was fifteen, \"Mrs. Moore called, 'Flopsy!' Flopsy dashed down the stairs. It might have been Alice asking for advice on being the Reception Committee chairman. Flopsy picked up the telephone and asked, \"Who is it?\" Mrs. Moore shook her head, having no idea. She mouthed the word, \"girl.\"\n\n\"Hello 1,\" Flopsy began, then let out a joyful whoop that echoed through the house. \"Babbie! Oh, where are you, Babbie? Are you in Rawhide? Oh, I'm so glad!\" She turned to her mother and shouted, \"Mother, Daddy, everybody, Babbie's here. Right here. She's at Molly's \u2014 at Miss Hilton's!\" She turned back to the telephone. \"Oh, Babbie, I'm so excited. Come on over. Stay all night. You know \u2014 I \u2014 \" she broke off. Babbie was talking. \"Yes, I was nearly killed.\"\nMy father and mother were scared stiff. Miss Hilton sent me some lovely flowers today! Please come over, please\u2014 please. Flopsy hung up. She was still excited. \"Mother, Daddy, did you hear who that was?\" \"We did, indeed!\" Mr. Moore looked up over his paper. \"It came to me faintly, but I managed to catch it.\" \"Oh, mother, it's Babbie! And she's coming right over. David's chauffeur is going to drive her. And she is going to stay all night. Isn't it wonderful? She came home for Christmas and she's going to stay. And I don't care now, about my black eye, and I don't care about that old Sophomore party,\" and Flopsy burst into tears. Mrs. Moore gave her husband a warning look. He mustn't tease her. Not now. Her own eyes were misty. She had felt so sorry for her child. (Surprises for Flopsy 159)\nShe had missed her first real party due to a wretched-looking and painful black eye. She patted her daughter's head.\n\n\"That's all right, honey. I understand. Just a little reaction. I am very glad for you.\" Mrs. Moore understood perfectly. But Mr. Moore had to take his wife's word for it, that it was all right. It was hard to understand why Flopsy had to cry because she was so happy!\n\nChapter Seven\nChristmas Presents\nBabbie would have tumbled into Flopsy's arms if her own were not busy holding a five-pound box of candy! Never, never, Flopsy's heart was singing, was she so glad to see anyone in her life as she was to see Babbie at this minute.\n\n\"My, Babbie, what a young lady you are becoming!\" Mrs. Moore took Babbie's face in her hands and kissed her.\n\n\"I am almost fifteen! My birthday's in March!\" Babbie boasted.\n\"And mine's in April,\" Flopsy echoed. \"Just imagine!\"\n\"Here, here! You've forgotten me!\" Mr. Moore came toward Babbie with his arms outstretched. He caught Babbie and hugged her as though she had been Flopsy. Then he let her go and looked down into her glowing face.\n\"Growing into a young lady, eh? And a very lovely one. 'Her eyes were brown, a deep, deep brown, and something in her smile and frown' \u2014 No, no, that quotation won't do at all. I never saw a frown on that gentle face.\"\n\"Oh, I'm not so gentle! I can frown!\" Babbie protested, testing very earnestly. \"Really, I can, Mr. Moore. I don't want to be just a sweet little girl. I want to be like Flopsy.\" Babbie gave Flopsy a warm, admiring look.\nThe others laughed. Her earnestness was so sincere.\n\"Right at this minute, you want to look like me, black eye and all?\" Flopsy giggled.\nMr. Moore placed his hand on his daughter's bright head. \"Don't you think our redhead is just a sweet little girl?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Babbie shook her head, her expression serious. \"She's too much fun to be just sweet.\"\n\n\"Won't you miss the ranch?\" Mrs. Moore asked, smiling. \"Do you remember when you first came East?\"\n\n\"You felt hemmed in here,\" Babbie replied. \"Not half as much as I later missed the girls at Hamilton \u2013 and Flopsy. It was so lonely out there. We only had five pupils in our Latin class! The biggest class we had was twelve. Oh, no. I wanted to get back here. The whole high school had only forty-five pupils.\"\n\n\"Did you ride any more bucking horses?\" Flopsy asked eagerly. She was thrilled that Babbie preferred Hamilton to the high school in Rawhide.\n\n\"Yes,\" Babbie's eyes danced. \"I reckon that's why mother was so glad to get me away from the ranch.\"\nIt was only a few weeks ago. I took my dear little Rusty out for a ride. He bucked steadily for fifteen minutes. I stayed on for about seven, and was \"sitting pretty\" when the sudden stop came. I landed on my right shoulder. It was as swollen and as big as a house! Babbie rushed on, ignoring the exclamations of horror. \"And when I woke up from my little nap, he was still trying to kick the sun, and he'd succeeded in stampeding most of the cattle.\"\n\n\"Good grief! \" Mrs. Moore cried. \"After all you went through with that first accident, I should think your mother and sister would have been frightened to death. No wonder they wanted you East. It's amazing to me that they ever allowed you on a horse again!\"\n\n\"Suppose you had been lamed again!\" Flopsy was horror-stricken. \"Remember that long, long time you were laid up?\"\nMr. Moore looked up over the top of his glasses in an owlish fashion. \"I know a young lady in the East quite well, related to me by marriage, who took a second chance at killing herself. She didn't even allow a few years between her attempts. The very next minute, after she had tried to knock over a stone wall with her head and found she couldn't in one attempt, she tried it again. If you don't succeed the first time, try again, was her motto.\" They all laughed, and Flopsy ducked her head. \"I wasn't hurt very much!\" Babbie went on. \"I rode eight hours the very next day to Paint Rock. And the next day I rode to Gold Pen. I never want to be afraid of a horse. I'll want to ride until\"\nI'm an old lady. Mother and Molly were away those days on business. So they weren't worried, you see. And David had promised to give me a horse. Don't you think that's wonderful of him?\n\nChristmas Presents 163\n\"That's a thought!\" Mr. Moore took a notebook out of his pocket. \"I'll put that down immediately. You've given me an idea for Flopsy's Christmas. I might give her a stone wall. She seems to have the same passion for it that you have for a horse. She probably will want to meet up with one from time to time.\"\n\n\"Mother, we are going up to my room. We have oodles and oodles to talk about.\" Flopsy gave her father a look of good-natured tolerance. He must have his little joke. She had ignored the hoot of laughter which followed his silly remark.\n\nBabbie and Flopsy dashed up the stairs, Flopsy.\nWith the box of candy under her arm, she excitedly urged, \"Tell me! Tell me this! Tell me that! Each scarcely letting the other finish any story, for it promptly suggested another line of thought. Babbie was immensely proud of a bit of mischief she had been up to, with the aid of a girl named \"Pussy.\" After lying still for several years after a fall from a horse, Babbie reveled in the fact that she was now living.\n\nMiss Wells, the principal of Rawhide School who also taught several subjects, showed us the letters from some girls in Louisiana who expressed their desire to correspond with cowboys. She found the letters amusing and was planning to discard them, but we begged her for them. Pussy and I assumed the personas of cowboys and wrote to these girls.\nLetters were more fun! We made them send us snapshots of themselves. One girl had long pigtails, and I wrote and said I hated pigtails. My name was Buck Watson. Well, you know that girl cut her pigtails off and then sent us another snapshot of herself. Oh, Flopsy, it was awful! I got nervous. I reckon I shouldn't have told her I didn't like pigtails.\n\n\"Why!\" Flopsy was fascinated.\n\n\"Because,\" Babbie took a long breath, \"she got the most terrible, awful, dreadful permanent wave I reckon there could be in this whole wide world. It was so frizzy and kinky that it stood out like a Fiji Islander girl's. I had an awful nightmare that night. I dreamed she was a cannibal, and that she wrote me she wanted me in a stew.\" Babbie fell back on the bed and rolled over laughing. \"I was in a stew all right.\"\nFlopsy giggled and replied, \"I sent her a picture I found around the ranch from a rodeo a few years ago. I marked one of the buckaroos taking a header with a big X. Under it, I wrote 'That's me.' I told her it was taken just before I told her I hated pigtails. My skull was fractured and I was out of my head when I wrote, asking her to let her hair grow again. I just loved pigtails when I was in my right mind.\n\nFlopsy stared at Babbie in admiration and amazement. Then both girls went off into fits of laughter.\n\n\"Oh, I'm glad you're back here, Babbie,\" Flopsy wiped her eyes. \"Let's have some candy. You just plain everyday saved my life. I was just desperate tonight. I was missing that old Sophomore party. Not because of Bill Forbes, let me tell you.\"\nShe hesitated and said, \"But I was on the committee and I ought to be there. Besides, I'd like to go myself. I can't dance very well. I just danced with our housekeeper's son. He's one of the cowboys. We used to dance to a radio orchestra, but I don't think he was very good. Then I thought of Janet's party in the spring. 'We can go to that at least!' The girls were digging into the box of candy.\n\n\"Here's a jelly one, and I hate them,\" Babbie handed over a candy. \"Don't bother to thank me.\"\n\n\"I won't!\" Flopsy giggled. \"I often wondered what the person who gets jelly-filled candies looks like. Let's imagine. Keep quiet for a few minutes and concentrate. You imagine a person who looks like a jelly-filled chocolate.\"\nAnd I will. Flopsy shut her eyes and looked as if she were going off into a trance. Babbie did likewise. Finally, Flopsy squealed, \"I can't do it. It frightens me. The weirdest looking people keep coming to my mind.\" Both girls rolled over on the bed, in nonsensical hysterics. It wasn't until the cold gray dawn of the next day that they ceased talking. Flopsy was just asking Babbie about the Sophomore reading list in Rawhide High School when her eyes closed. It was not a thrilling question. She was just making talk. Every last other subject they could think of had been discussed. But Babbie didn't hear this question. She was sound asleep. When Flopsy opened her eyes in the morning, her first thought was a happy one. Babbie was here again, and the Sophomore party was all over.\nThere were only three days left until Christmas. School closed that afternoon, not to reopen until after New Year's. All problems, except one, ceased to be. Flopsy did not have to worry her head about the Delta Sigma Deltas, homework, the Hamiltonian, her treasurer's report, or required reading, until next year! The one all-important problem right now was Christmas presents. And Flopsy always waited until the very last minute. It never seemed like Christmas unless she was rushing around trying to do everything at once. That's what the Christmas spirit was, Flopsy thought, accomplishing the impossible and being happy about it. She thought of Alice Holt. Alice and her sister Mildred began to buy Christmas presents in the summer. By Thanksgiving, their presents were not only all purchased, but they were all wrapped. Flopsy looked down upon this procedure with scorn.\nCould one have the feeling of Christmas on an August day? How could one's heart tingle with excitement, doing up a Christmas present before Thanksgiving? It was all too sensible. Christmas was a thing of the spirit, bright, beautiful and mysterious.\n\n\"Why must you wait until the last few days, Flopsy? Do think of the weary shopgirls,\" Mrs. Moore had pleaded.\n\n\"I am. That's what I am! Everyone buys presents early now. The stores won't be crowded. You wait and see,\" Flopsy replied.\n\n\"No, you wait and see! That pleasure is all yours. I've bought my presents,\" Mrs. Moore retorted.\n\n\"How could I have bought my presents before Christmas?\" Flopsy protested. \"I had a black eye. I'd have scared people to death. And it looks funny enough right now.\"\n\n\"You've only had that black eye for a few days. You didn't have one last year, and you did the same thing.\"\nMrs. Moore sighed. She saw that she was making no impression on her daughter. Even Dickie and Frankie had gone to Woolworth's and done all their shopping two weeks ago.\n\nFlopsy was counting her money. She looked at it in two kinds of alarm. It was too much, and it was too little. It was more than she had expected to have saved, but it was too little to buy everything she wanted. She had a tussle with her conscience. She walked over to her bank. She closed her eyes so that she would not see the painful process. She dropped fifty cents into it. Wouldn't it be awful to buy Christmas presents with Sophomore dues? Her conscience was now clear. But her mind wasn't. It was as confused as though she were in a thick London pea-soup fog. How could she buy all her presents?\nWith the money she had, she sat down at her desk and made a list.\n1. Mother -\n2. Daddy -\n3. Frankie -\n4. Dickie -\n5. Alice -\n6. Miss Hilton\u2019s baby -\n7. Babbie -\n8. Mrs. Titmouse -\n9. And Fleurette if she gives me one -\n168. Almost Fifteen\nFlopsy sighed. She was really lucky in a way. Suppose I were Alice? Alice had uncles and aunts and cousins \u2013 galore! Flopsy had exactly six dollars and eighty-three cents. She tried dividing this total by nine. How many times did nine go into sixty-eight? She sat chewing her pencil and staring into space. She wished that she knew her multiplication table. It would certainly simplify things. She went to the head of the stairs.\n\n\"Mother! Mother!\" she called out. \"Mother \u2013 Mother!\" She went up and down the scale.\n\n\"What in the world do you want?\" Mrs. Moore cried in alarm. \"What has happened?\"\n\"How many times does nine go into sixty-eight?\n\nFlopsy hung over the upstairs balustrade.\n\n\"Good gracious! Did you call me out of the kitchen for that? I am up to my eyes!\" Mrs. Moore's voice had a note of exasperation in it.\n\n\"It's important! It's positively vital,\" Flopsy called blithely.\n\n\"Seven and something. Please don't bother me again! And I wish you'd paid more attention to arithmetic when you were in school,\" Mrs. Moore's voice trailed off. She was back in the kitchen.\n\n\"Seven and something! Seven and something!\" Flopsy sing-songed as she sat down to her desk again. She brought her brows together in a frown. Seven and something. That hadn't helped. What is nine times seven, anyway?\"\n\n\"Oh, Jinks! I guess I better not ask mother again. And anyway, there must be about seventy cents for each one, if I gave them all equal shares.\"\"\n\"Mother, how many times does nine go into six dollars and eighty-five cents? I have almost fifteen presents. And I'm not going to do that. If I gave mother and daddy a dollar present, and I gave Miss Hilton's baby a dollar present, how much would I have for everybody else? Three dollars from six dollars and eighty-three cents is four dollars and eighty-three cents. Now, I'll divide that by \u2013 let me see \u2013 divide it by \u2013 what! Oh, nuts! I ran to my closet and took out my coat and hat. I walked over to my desk again and looked down longingly at my bank. At the moment, I regretted putting that fifty cents into it. I would have preferred a foggy conscience and a clear mind. But it was too late! Oh, well! What did it really matter? I was always in a mix-up at Christmas.\"\nFlopsy walked downstairs, muttering to herself, \"Three from nine is six. Six goes into four dollars and eighty-three cents - that's easy - it's six goes into forty-eight, which means the other presents can be over eighty cents.\" She stopped at the foot of the stairs, groaned out loud, and put her hands to her head. How could she have more money for the six presents that were left and more money for the first three? She had better not do this figuring in her head. She was poor at any kind of arithmetic, but she was simply terrible at mental calculations. She walked slowly into the kitchen. Her mother was at the kitchen table writing.\n\n\"Mother!\" She looked very sweet and appealing, not only despite her many-colored eye, but because of it. She was sure no mother's heart could help being touched by her pleading expression.\nMrs. Moore was touched by her daughter Flopsy's appearance and manner.\n\n\"Now what?\" Mrs. Moore looked up. \"I am making Christmas presents. Out of my grocery list.\" She began checking it over, aloud. \"Sage, cranberry sauce, raisins, nuts!\"\n\n\"That's what I say \u2014 nuts!\" Flopsy burst in, dimpling.\n\n\"You certainly do, and I wish you wouldn't!\" Mrs. Moore put down her pencil and looked up at her daughter suspiciously. \"What mischief are you up to now, I'd like to know? No, I don't want to know, but it might be better if I did.\" Her manner was the epitome of patience.\n\n\"Take three dollars from six dollars and eighty-three cents, and what do you get, mummy dear?\" Flopsy's eyes danced, as they pleaded.\n\n\"Flopsy Moore!\" Mrs. Moore shook her head. \"I am not getting anything, I've got it! And it's a headache. You are impossible. However, answering that question...\"\nI'd say three dollars and eighty-three cents. Whatever else could it be, I'd like to know? You discourage me completely. I was going to ask you to buy me some Christmas wrapping paper, string, and tags. I also had a fantastic hope that you could go around to Hardman's and look over their wreaths and Christmas trees. I wanted you to see if they are good and what they are charging.\n\n\"Maybe we could get some mistletoe this year?\"\n\nFlopsy skipped over most of her mother's comments.\n\n\"It's a lot of fun, they say. Would you like me to find out how much it is?\"\n\nMrs. Moore waved this aside. \"Don't bother. I will attend to all of these things. Now, will you do me a favor and run along.\" Her eyes narrowed. She was thinking intently. What else should she put on her list? \"Oh, yes, a loaf of day-old bread. We never seem to have enough.\"\nI'll need stale bread for the turkey dressing. Oh, and how does my eye look? I've pulled this hat almost over it. Do I look cockeyed?\n\n\"Flopsy\" Mrs. Moore groaned, please run along, honey. Your eye is much better. But if I don't go on with my ordering, I'll go.\n\nNo, I'll go. Flopsy promised agreeably before finishing her mother's sentence. She scampered for the front door and banged it as she went out.\n\nMrs. Moore hurried after her and opened the door calling, \"Flopsy! Come right back here and put on your rain boots. The streets are running water after the thaw.\"\n\nFlopsy came bouncing back into the house. She was in effervescent spirits. Isn't it weird? We just got snow so I could get my face lit up with bright colors for Christmas? And nobody else is going to have it to.\nFlopsy pulled on her boots in the landscape, commenting to herself, \"You really ought to have snow at Christmas time, shouldn't you, mother?\" Her mother had gone back into the kitchen without answering. Flopsy smiled, \"I guess she agrees with me,\" and opened the door, humming to herself as she went. \"Three dollars and eighty-three cents for six presents. That's not bad. Not bad at all! I'll bet Alice never paid one-sixth of three dollars and eighty-three cents for my present. And now if Fleurette wouldn't give me one.\"\n\nFeeling supremely happy, Flopsy walked along, loving the experience of buying Christmas presents, no matter the cost. She wouldn't have them sent; she wanted to come home with her arms and pockets filled with them.\nAll out on her bed the very minute she got home, and just enjoy them. In the store, they had only been a collection of things that someone had wanted to sell. But spread over her bed, they were, as if by magic, transformed into Christmas presents!\n\nA few hours after she had left the house, Flopsy returned, just as she had wished to return, laden down. Her cheeks were so flushed with excitement, her eyes so bright, that one would never have paid much heed to those rainbow colors around one of two sparkling eyes! She had bought presents for everybody except her mother and Fleurette. She had exactly sixty-two cents left in her purse. It was very silly, very silly indeed making up accounts before one went Christmas shopping. Knowledge of the multiplication table, or the ability to add or subtract, had nothing whatever to do with it.\nShe had no connection between Christmas shopping and arithmetic. Regardless of how clever one was, obeying happiest impulses never resulted in coming out even. She could wait and hope for Fleurette's signs of having a Christmas present. If Fleurette called and said, \"I'll see you Christmas morning,\" she would know. In a way, she wanted to give Fleurette a present more than Alice, but Alice had given her one for years and years. Her heart warmed when she recalled how sweet Fleurette had been about her accident. She had promised herself never to forget how tragic Fleurette looked when tears came to her eyes at the thought of being Flopsy's pallbearer. She couldn't very well forget her sacred promise.\nAlice had treated her black eye lightly after a few days, despite Flopsy having come close to being killed. If she had to divide her sixty-eight cents for two presents, she knew her mother would understand. She always had in the past. Her mother had always responded with a warm smile and said, \"Don't worry about me, darling. Just give me a little extra love.\" Giving her mother this extra love would not be difficult, as her mother's generous understanding would fill Flopsy's heart to overflowing. If Fleurette gave her a present that year, Flopsy could buy her mother a beautiful flower vase she had seen in Woolworth's for a quarter. With it, she would give her mother all the love in her heart. She would then have forty-six cents left for Fleurette's present and would find an extra two cents.\nAfter lunch, Mrs. Moore called Flopsy. \"I'm going to leave you to guard the fort for a few hours. I must go around to the stores to see my turkey, Christmas tree, and holly wreaths. And some mistletoe!\"\n\n\"Yes, some mistletoe!\" Flopsy agreed happily.\n\n\"But when I was a girl, the boys could kiss a girl if they caught her under it. And from your present attitude, it seems it's still the same. Boys sometimes kiss girls. But not me,\" Flopsy colored, adding this hastily. She had told her mother about Bill Forbes being fresh with her about her black eye.\n\n\"Oh, yes, indeed!\" Mrs. Moore teased.\nI am not joking. I've ordered ice skates for Frankie and a sled for Dickie. They may be delivered while I'm out. Try to get to the door first and hide them. Someone has already been rummaging in my closet, so don't put them there. And if you want to amuse yourself meanwhile and still be useful, you might test the lights for the Christmas tree.\n\n\"O.K! O.K!\" Flopsy was tap dancing on the bare floor in the hall. \"Don't worry. I'll guard the skates and the sled with my very life!\"\n\nI sincerely hope that won't be at all necessary. You have given us all the excitement we need for some time to come. The lights for the Christmas tree are in my room in a big box.\n\nThis last Mrs. Moore called back over her shoulder. She knew Flopsy was not heeding, as she was dancing for dear life. She was now in the kitchen.\nFlopsy tried to tap dance up and down the stairs. Mrs. Moore closed the door behind her and hoped for the best. Flopsy had a hazy notion of testing the lights for the Christmas tree. She enjoyed it up to a certain point. That certain point had to arrive quickly, or she grew very tired and exasperated. But now she did not go upstairs. First, the front doorbell rang, and then the back one. She danced from one to the other. The extra boys, who helped the postman during the holidays, kept dropping Christmas cards into the mailbox every few minutes. These had to be opened and read.\n\n\"Oh, Jinks!\" Flopsy was at the telephone and gave a number. She must call Babbie. \"Oh, Babbie! What do you think? Can you imagine who I got cards from? You'll never, never guess. Marcella\"\nTodd (from camp). Marcella Todd Townsend. One from Tommy and Mandy. I had forgotten about Christmas cards so far. I'll have to buy some this afternoon. Flopsy thought of the forty-eight cents, but perhaps her mother would have some extras. She could hope at least! \"Oh, Babbie, the front door. I must hang up. Bye!\"\n\nWhen Flopsy opened the front door, a boy stood there dangling a pair of skates in one hand and a small sled in the other. These were supposed to be wrapped, but the sled had only a piece of paper tied around its middle, and the skates were practically naked. Flopsy took them, and just as she did, she heard Frankie's voice. He must have come in by the back door.\n\n\"Flopsy! Flopsy! Where are you?\"\n\n\"Oh, goodness! Where are you?\"\n\"I'm coming!\" he reassured her eagerly. She heard him approaching and frantically looked around, wondering if she could reach the stairs before he did. She made a mad dash for them, not bothering to shut the front door.\n\n\"Where are you?\" Frankie howled. \"This is important.\"\n\n\"I'll say it is!\" Flopsy groaned, stumbling up the stairs. She was now hidden from Frankie's sight by a curve in the staircase.\n\n\"I'm not upstairs!\" Frankie called. \"I'm down here. But I'll come right up,\" he promised, and started up after her.\n\n\"Don't bother!\" Flopsy panted breathlessly. \"I'll be down in just a minute.\"\n\n\"But I have to see you right away!\" Frankie insisted, pounding up the stairs.\n\n\"Oh, Pete!\" Flopsy fell almost headlong into the first open door she reached. It was the bathroom.\nShe drew a long sigh of relief inside, with the door locked, and said a few hurried prayers of thankfulness for her miraculous escape. With ample time to breathe and pray, she said, \"I'll wait here, Flopsy, till you come out. My hands are awful dirty. I'll sit on the railing and wait. Anyways, I just wanted to show you a present I just bought for mother.\"\n\n\"Frankie, you'd better not wait. Go downstairs and wash your hands in the kitchen,\" she pleaded despairingly. \"I'm fixing my hair and may not be out for a while.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's all right. I'll wait. Dickie will be in soon and I want to get first shot at the bathroom. I just saw mother and she said I was filthy, and to make a good job of getting clean before she saw me again. I want to know if you think she'll like what I bought her. Gee!\"\n\"Frankie's words brought no comfort to Flopsy. A pair of skates and even a small sled would not fit gracefully in the medicine chest or under the rug on the floor. Frantically, she tried both. The result was painful. She could put the skates in one of the drawers with her mother's towels and linen, but the sled wouldn't fit anywhere!\n\n\"Frankie, you know mother will love your present. She always loves our presents. But go downstairs. Don't wait for me,\" Flopsy said firmly. A brilliant idea came to her. \"I'm going to take a bath. I may be here for an hour, and then mother will come home and see your face all dirty.\"\n\n\"Just tell me this! Does mother like rubies, emeralds or diamonds better? Just tell me that,\" Frankie pleaded.\"\n\"She loves them all,\" signed Flopsy sadly. \"She's crazy about them. Now, will you go?\"\n\n\"Just wait a minute - I want to look,\" and there was a pause. Flopsy was sitting on the edge of the bath tub, a picture of bleak and dreary despair. \"Oh Flops, what do you think?\"\n\n\"Oh dear,\" she wailed. \"I can't! But what is it?\"\n\nFrankie sputtered with excitement. His voice broke with happiness. \"Am I lucky!\"\n\n\"You sure are!\" Flopsy thought in a sudden rage, \"if I could get my hands on you.\" Her expression was black and threatening. She could always be bored with anything sooner than most people, and she'd had enough of this!\n\n\"Don't you want to know why I am lucky?\" Frankie asked.\n\n\"I don't have to,\" Flopsy frowned darkly, \"I know!\"\n\n\"Oh, you couldn't guess. It's because mother's present has diamonds, rubies and emeralds in it.\"\nFlopsy shouted, \"Franklin Emmett Moore! Stop talking to me. I can't take a bath without water. Dickie and I have to turn on the faucet. I haven't heard the water yet.\"\n\n\"Darn it,\" Flopsy raged as she turned on all the faucets in the bathtub and basin. This created such a roar that she couldn't hear if Frankie was still camping outside. She put her mouth to the keyhole and bellowed, \"Listen, Frankie. Go downstairs and wash. Mother will be in at any minute. Please! Please!\"\n\nThis last plea was through her teeth. She was shaking a fist at her young brother on the other side of the door. Above the roar of the water, Flopsy heard the most horrible din. Her heart stood still, and she scrambled from one faucet to another, turning them off.\nThen she stood still. Whatever was in the world downstairs? Her brothers were roaring and a dog was barking. The commotion was hair-raising! She opened the door. Frankie had gone. She picked up the sled and the skates and rushed into her room, opened her closet and tumbled them into it. Then she flew downstairs. Their neighbor\u2019s dog, Skippy, was making all the noise, Flopsy discovered as she stood still on the bottom step. Relieved that nothing was wrong, she sat down on the last step to watch the fun. Skippy was in the middle of the living room, barking furiously at a strange cat which was on top of the radio cabinet. Mrs. Moore walked in through the front door, which was still standing open as Flopsy had left it.\n\n\"For mercy's sake,\" she cried out in horror.\n\"Oh, mother. Mother. Someone left the front door open.\"\nFrankie was bouncing up and down with excitement as she opened the door and Skippy chased the cat inside. Dickie and I nearly bust our sides laughing.\n\n\"Well, I'm not laughing,\" Mrs. Moore answered shortly. \"And Flopsy, why are you just sitting there doing nothing? Boys, get Skippy out of here at once.\"\n\nAs the boys coaxed Skippy out of the house, they had to let the cat go before they could touch it. Flopsy whispered in her mother's ear.\n\n\"You'd never say I'd been doing nothing if you knew what had happened! Just wait till you hear, just wait!\" Flopsy followed her mother into the kitchen.\n\nAs the boys took the cat outside, they could hear their mother and sister laughing together. They wondered what could be so funny now? They hadn't laughed when the real show was on.\n\nIt ought to be snowing on the day before Christmas! But unfortunately, this Christmas Eve was just an unfortunate continuation.\nOrdinary dreary gray December day. If there was any difference between this day and all the days which preceded it, it had nothing to do with the calendar, thermometer, or barometer! There was no denying that it was different, but that was because of people, not atmospheric conditions. Up and down the street, holly wreaths were appearing in windows, and on white Colonial doors. On many lawns, colored lights were being strung and tested on spruce and fir trees. Indoors, many a bed was covered with gaily wrapped packages, the bedrooms were strewn with Christmas presents. And the kitchens! Fat uncooked turkeys were surrounded with innumerable brown paper bags. Big bags, little bags, or middle-sized bags, but all of them bulging! The Christmas tree had just been brought into the house.\nFlopsy's house and its sweet pungent perfume filled the living room. By closing one's eyes and merely breathing, one knew immediately, this was not the same kind of a dull December day as yesterday! The regular postman, with an extra-heavy load and his extra-pleasant smile, was assisted by a troop of young boys who dropped cards into mail boxes hour after hour. The genial delivery boys stayed longer in the kitchen, and the regular newsboy sang out a blithe \u201cMerry Christmas,\u201d as he rang the front doorbell, instead of throwing the paper against the door as usual. All these strange signs proved it definitely was not the ordinary kind of a dull December day! The butcher, the baker, the grocer, the laundry man, the coal man, and the milk man all left calendars. Most of them so ugly and highly colored, that no one would have been.\nPlease find the cleaned text below:\n\nThe previous day, I was pleased to receive them! Without the usual snow, ice, and wind, this day before Christmas was quite different.\n\nChristmas morning! The bliss of it, the mystery of it! It was an established custom in the Moore family that no one should see the tree until breakfast, when they could all see it together. Hearts beat faster as we waited, and imagination was nearly intoxicated with happiness. The tree was in the sun parlor off the dining room, and the French doors leading into it had been draped. During a seemingly endless breakfast, the children couldn't even catch a glimpse of the tree. The last thing Mr. Moore had done the night before was to hang its many windows with dark curtains. The lights on the tree twinkled better and looked more dazzling in a dim light. After the last mouthful of toast.\nThe entire family lined up before the French doors: Dickie first, then Frankie, followed by Flopsy, and lastly, Mrs. Moore. Flopsy's cup of Christmas joy had been filled to the brim the day before. The rich relative in a distant city, who had sent Mrs. Moore the hostess gown, had this time mailed a check for ten dollars to be distributed among the three children. Flopsy had taken her three dollars and thirty-three cents with a grateful heart and had gone on an orgy of spending. She was treading on air. She would give Fleurette an even better present than Fleurette had given her. Fleurette had delivered hers in plenty of time, so that there could be no misunderstanding. And there had been an expectant look in her eyes when she had handed it to Flopsy the day before Christmas. Flopsy felt she loved Fleurette, at this moment.\nFleurette had been more sad than any of her friends over Flopsy's narrow escape from death. She couldn't forget this easily and it deserved a present of at least seventy-five cents. Fleurette's present to her cost fifty cents, so she had to top that.\n\nFor her mother, Flopsy had bought two beautiful vases, as beautiful as could be in the land, for twenty-five cents each. They were white, and her mother liked white vases for the brilliant zinnias and golden marigolds from her garden. Besides these, she had bought a box of soft, gooey candies that cost one dollar and fifty cents. Mrs. Moore loved soft and very sweet candies. Flopsy's cheeks were burning with excitement when she took this box from the salesgirl. Everything was perfect.\nChristmas morning, Flopsy accepted two identical bead necklaces from her two brothers and was delighted. Frankie thanked Dickie enthusiastically for a game they had been secretly playing for several weeks, and his thanks were sincere. When all the presents had been exchanged, and everyone had exclaimed and exclaimed over and over, \"It's just what I wanted,\" Mr. Moore went upstairs. \"Hold everything!\" he had said as he left the room. \"There is one more present. It's for you, Flora Madden Moore. Just wait. Hold your breath! Don't look so surprised, Mrs. Moore, you don't know anything about it, but you will presently. I had to do it up all by myself. It's the piece de resistance, the crowning gift to our one and only daughter. I couldn't.\"\nResist it. It's a tribute to her hard little red head. Suppose it couldn't have held out against a stone wall? We shudder to think! Flopsy stared at her mother, her eyes wide. Her lips were parted and her heart thumping. Mrs. Moore kept shaking her head. What was he up to, she'd like to know?\n\nThey heard him pounding down the stairs, as hurriedly and vigorously as one of the boys when he was up to mischief. He came into the room, his face beaming. Under his arm, was a huge box, a packing box. It was done up in every kind of paper, and tied with ribbons, cords, and rope. He laid it on a table.\n\n\"Open it up! Open it up! I can't wait to see your expression. And your mother's face. She's going to be sorry because she didn't think of it. But she will just be tickled pink that at least I thought of it!\"\nHer hands trembled with excitement as Flopsy tore and pulled at the complicated bindings on this mysterious package. Her two brothers obstructed her at times, and they were so close that she couldn't move her elbows.\n\n\"Oh dear! Boys, move away,\" Flopsy panted, \"I'll never get it open!\"\n\nThe lid was finally removed, and they all gathered around expectantly. More inner wrappings! Feverishly, these were torn away.\n\nFlopsy stared down in blank and confused amazement. She was looking down at her mother's hostess gown.\n\nMr. Moore rubbed his hands together in glee. \"Aren't you going to thank your father for his thoughtful gift? And your mother deserves a word or two of thanks as well.\"\n\nThe color rushed into Flopsy's face, and she looked from one parent to the other. There was such surprise on their faces.\nA funny expression on her face that they both laughed at. Mrs. Moore's eyes had little wrinkles of amusement at their corners.\n\n\"Your father's an old goose, Flopsy,\" Mrs. Moore said, laughing. \"The night you were brought home from the hill, my hostess gown was on your bed. I never gave it a thought until the next Christmas morning. Then I remembered that it had a strange, unaccountable way of falling off the hanger. Perhaps \u2013\"\n\nMrs. Moore asked smiling, \"you will lend it to me some time, if I should need it?\"\n\n\"By rights, Flopsy, you really should,\" Mr. Moore replied, looking at his wife sheepishly. \"Your mother was quite nice about it when she had it.\"\n\nIn a flash, Flopsy was deep in her mother's arms. \"It's the best Christmas I ever had, the very best,\" she choked.\nIt was Mr. Moore's turn next. Over her red head, he murmured to his wife, \"It's always, and everlastingly, worth it!\"\n\nChapter Eight\nHigh Finance\n\nThe Christmas holidays were now as far away as they could be, nearly a whole year. Christmas never seemed as remote as it did during the middle of January. The one just past was further away than the next one!\n\nBabbie was going to enroll again at Hamilton as soon as the new term began, and Flopsy was possessed now by only serious thoughts and worries. Would she pass her mid-year examinations? Could she complete her treasurer's report in the short time left before it had to be made! What was going to be done about the sorority? No wonder she felt as though the holidays were far, far away. January was an endless month! She decided that she hated it worse than any other month in the entire year!\nNow that the cherished hostess gown hung on a rack in her closet, it brought her little happiness. She retired to her room each night to study in grim earnest and did not even bother to turn on her radio, except on rare occasions. There seemed nothing else to do but study these days. She wasn't having any fun at all!\n\nOne afternoon, a crowd had stayed late at school to watch a basketball game in the girls' gymnasium. After it was over, some of the boys had danced with her. She had gone home feeling very proud of her new leather windbreaker as Bill Forbes had made her stand still, while he wrote his name on it. In the next fifteen minutes, she had collected nearly a dozen other autographs, all from boys! There was an impressive collection of them.\nsuch nicknames as Spike, Buck, Boots, Bud, Slim, Fat and Popeye! Popeye was a strange-looking fellow, but he was a senior. And that was important. She felt more important as the owner of this windbreaker than she had in weeks! But she was a little subdued and disappointed that her mother was not equally impressed. In fact, Mrs. Moore seemed annoyed. It was a new windbreaker, and the most expensive one she had ever bought for Flopsy.\n\n\"But all the girls have names written on their jackets! And we wrote on the boys' sneakers. I have my name on Wilton Locke's!\" Her face flamed. She wished she hadn't let this out! Chin or no chin, apple-cheeked or not, she liked Wilton Locke again. Milton Brooks was too far away. However, she didn't like Wilton as much as she had before she'd ever spoken to him. But\nShe borrowed Wilton's fountain pen and printed her initials on the \"sneaker.\" Wilton put his foot up on a chair for her to print more easily. After her initials, she put ASA in brackets.\n\n\"Well! Well! So it's still Delta Sigma Delta?\" Wilton asked.\n\n\"Not for long now,\" Flopsy replied, \"but I put those initials on there to haunt you.\"\n\nHigh Finance 189\n\n\"I see we'll have another little job ahead of us,\" he promised with a significant wink.\n\n\"Oh no you don't! Not this time!\" Flopsy assured him grimly. \"Never again.\"\n\nFleurette, who had been standing nearby and had overheard this little conversation, flushed and turned her head away.\n\nThe Delta Sigma Deltas had decided to postpone their next meeting until Babbie should come back.\nFlopsy was to be made a charter member of the new sorority without an initiation. She could help create their new secrets. Flopsy kept her thoughts about Fleur and the new sorority to herself. She had a plan. One afternoon, toward the end of January, Flopsy entered her house with a gloomy expression on her face. The last meeting of the Sophomore B's was to be the next afternoon. That morning at breakfast, her father had handed Flopsy the key to her bank. Now she faced the unhappy prospect of opening it. According to her book, she should have twenty-two dollars and fifty cents, but some boys and girls never paid during the last week or so. Flopsy had been dropping reminders.\nShe put her own nickels into the bank, a painful task as she feared the prospect of a \"shortage.\" The word made her uneasy, having read about it in the newspapers in connection with courtrooms and jails. As she turned the key in the bank, her heart seemed to stop. She felt faint. The bank released a torrent of dimes and nickels onto her desk. Some rolled onto the floor and under the furniture in her room. Her eyes brightened as she realized there must be thousands of them. Her room was filled with dimes and nickels, alive with their jingling sound. It was like a dream she once had of reaching out to gather piles of loose coins. But in the dream, just as she was about to collect them,\nHer hands had awakened to find she had nothing. This was one time when Flopsy hoped dreams didn't come true. She got down on her hands and knees and began to crawl around her room. Her cheeks were now burning with excitement as she picked up dime after dime. Oh, she must have enough. Maybe she had too much. As she squirmed under the bed on her stomach, a brilliant thought came to her. She started to sit up and revel in it, but she cracked her head on something. The bump didn't hurt too much, but it did discourage her untimely daydreaming. She had intended to plan what she would do with the extra money. Instead, she went right on picking up coins. For an hour, she intensely counted dimes and nickels.\nShe stacked them in piles of ten, but never managed to get the same total. At times she quivered with joy, and again was engulfed in the blackest despair. The nickels had to be in stacks of twenty to be equal to ten dimes, and they kept tumbling over and getting mixed up. Three times in succession she counted something or other just over twenty dollars!\n\n\"NUTS!\" she groaned, pushing over stack after stack of coins. She began to cry with great heart-wrenching sobs. She stumbled to her bed and threw herself face downward on it. Then she cried until her head throbbed. Where was her mother? She had thought about dreams coming true, but this was a plain everyday nightmare! She had cried until her head ached and her eyes were swollen. She lay very still now. She was exhausted. The Sophomore class would say...\nFlopsy had stolen their old money. Maybe she'd make it into the news papers. They couldn't call her a \"Gun-girl\" since she hadn't used a gun, but she might have to go to jail. In the movies, the girls always mopped floors. They got down on their knees and splashed in pails full of soapsuds. Then a cranky-looking woman came along and shouted at everyone. Flopsy's temper rose. She wouldn't be shouted at by anyone, not even in jail! This wasn't entirely her fault. She lay there thinking back over the last months. Some of the people who said they had paid, hadn't. That was all. For instance, Paulette Muggesser should go to jail too.\n\n\"Flopsy!\"\n\nFlopsy turned over and looked in the direction of the voice. Her mother, Mrs. Moore, was standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Mrs. Moore had taken the situation in hand.\nAnd she looked even more dismayed as Flopsy began to sob again. Mrs. Moore came over and sat on the bed's edge. \"Now, now. How bad is it?\" \"It's awful, and they'll put me in jail,\" Flopsy wailed. \"They will do nothing of the sort. Don't be foolish. I was afraid of this. We shouldn't have let you undertake this office. It's all been managed very badly. Oh, come now, my darling! Stop crying. You'll only make yourself sick. Let's go over this sorry business together. How much money have you?\" Flopsy sat up, looking very miserable. Her eyes were so red from crying that they were almost shut. \"I've counted and counted and counted, and I'm not sure I've added up my book correctly.\" \"You probably haven't,\" Mrs. Moore commented.\nFlopsy and her mother worked together to count Flopsy's coins and organize the chaos. Flopsy felt better with her mother taking charge. They worked steadily, and Flopsy occasionally caught a glimpse of a coin hidden under her bureau or chair. Mrs. Moore opened the treasurer's book and, after fifteen minutes, turned to her daughter. \"Flopsy, I must say that you have given everyone the benefit of the doubt based on these accounts. We won't have any complaints if we can make the money tally with the book.\" Mrs. Moore then informed Flopsy that she had made twenty-one mistakes.\n\"Twenty-one mistakes mean a shortage of two dollars and ten cents,\" Mrs. Moore explained, as Flopsy's face drained of color. \"Two dollars and ten cents,\" she echoed blankly. \"Well, it's better than I feared it would be. We will not have to put a mortgage on the house. It's been a sorry experience. It wouldn't have been if you had let Daddy and me bank it from time to time. Now, let's talk over ways and means. We are not going to let you face public disgrace, Flopsy. After all, my dear child, what are good friends for? And mothers, for that matter? We must stand together. Listen, my precious\"\nIf you begin to cry again, I can't talk to you, child. Flopsy was now weeping wild tears of gratitude and relief. Her mother held her hot, feverish body in her arms and stroked her hair. Now, now. You can pay me five cents a week out of your allowance if you like, for a few months. You don't get too much. I am not very rich myself right now, but I can scrape two dollars together for tomorrow. We have the Moore name to save, you know.\n\nOh, mother! Flopsy was too choked up to continue.\n\nWe won't say a word about this to anyone. It will be a secret between you and me. And if that five cents a week gets to be a heavy burden, your mother will never sue you for it. I only suggested it so it will remind you never, never to be treasurer again, of anything.\nTaking care of other people's money is a dangerous and risky responsibility for someone who can't add any better than you, even though you intended to be as honest as the day is long. You are too careless, much too careless.\n\nFlopsy tossed about that night for hours it seemed. She was so happy, because that dreadful fear was laid to rest, that she couldn't sleep. She had not realized how terribly it had haunted her. Over and over, she sighed with contentment and relief. What a mother she had! Was there, could there be, another like her in the whole world? She would remember forever this dreadful, miserable day, and the peace her mother brought her.\n\nIt was decided the next morning that Mrs. Moore should bank Flopsy's collection of dimes and nickels for her. The money was to stay in the bank until the next investment opportunity arose.\nnew. Class officers should be elected, and then Mrs. Moore would give Flopsy two ten-dollar bills and the few extra dollars to be turned over to the new treasurer. There was nothing more to worry about! We aren't going to have an election until we are Sophomore As, Flopsy explained. Some pupils may not be promoted. But don't let anyone convince you that you've been an excellent treasurer and that you should attempt it for a second time, Mrs. Moore warned. Oh, mother! Flopsy protested in horror. Being treasurer just once was the worst thing that ever happened to me!\n\nThe Sophomore B meeting that afternoon was held in the Latin room. A boy named Tom Shepard was the Class President, but he knew little about how to conduct a meeting. Flopsy was amazed to hear the Secretary, Lawrence Hoffman, read off a list of bills. Most\nTen people in the room made a motion to accept the Secretary's report and fifteen seconded it. The matter was finished, and the report was accepted.\n\nTom Shepard looked at Flopsy and said, \"Hand over those bills to Miss Moore.\" He winked at her. \"Now, the treasurer's report. By the way, Miss Moore, those bills total fifteen dollars and fifty cents. I hope you have enough to pay.\" He winked again and rolled his eyes.\n\nFlopsy was on her feet, excited. \"Fifteen dollars and fifty cents!\"\nShe gave her report with a high heart and concluded, \"And I'll be glad to pay for the flowers you sent for my black eye!\" There was a roar of laughter.\n\n\"Mr. Hoffman didn't read my letter of thanks for those flowers. It was a nice letter. Where is it, I'd like to know?\" She went on, enjoying the fun.\n\nSecretary Hoffman stood up and protested, \"I thought it might embarrass you.\"\n\n\"Wasn't it spelled right?\" Flopsy retorted quickly, her eyes dancing.\n\n\"Two words were left out. But I'd have put them in, if I could have guessed what they were,\" Lawrence Hoffman grinned. \"But that wasn't the reason I didn't read it. I thought it seemed funny to ask you to pay for the flowers.\"\n\"But I couldn't pay the two dollars myself. I've been financially embarrassed since Christmas.\n\n\"ORDER! ORDER!\" Tom pounded on his desk.\n\n\"Who moves that the Treasurer's report be accepted? I am waiting for motions and seconders. Waiting! Waiting!\"\n\nThere were shouts of, \"I move it be accepted,\" from dozens of throats. And others were shouting, \"I second it!\"\n\n\"The harmony is impossible! This has to be done right! Miss Spencer, our class sponsor, is likely to walk in at any minute, and she'll be appalled!\" Tom pulled his mouth down as he used the teacher's pet word. \"Let's get these reports off our hands, before she comes in. Let one person make a motion that Miss Moore's report be accepted. One!\"\n\nTen individuals shouted again.\n\n\"O.K. I get it! Miss Moore's report accepted.\"\nThe matter was definitely settled to everyone's complete satisfaction. The Treasurer's report was accepted with shouts. Flopsy was radiant.\n\n\"How about nominations for officers for next term?\" Tom asked next.\n\nThe meeting was a riot for the next half hour. Flopsy managed to get the floor just once. \"Listen, you aren't supposed to have a dozen motions on the floor at the same time. That's not parliamentary law.\"\n\n\"You unscramble us, Miss Moore,\" Tom suggested good-naturedly. \"You tell us which was the original motion. And if you can, someone can make another motion to thank you.\"\n\nJust then, Miss Spencer came into the room. The Sophomore B's finished their last meeting quietly.\nIn perfect order, they managed to nominate their new officers. William Forbes was to run against Tom Shepard for president. Tom had tried to withdraw, but he had a few friends who insisted that he run. It looked, on the surface, as though Bill Forbes would win. Flopsy was thrilled to see herself listed for vice president against a girl named Ethel Warren. Hardly anyone knew Ethel! She would be sure to win, as the other two officers would surely be boys. She'd be the only girl officer in the Sophomore A class. If \u2013 if \u2013 she were promoted. That was another unpleasant thought. If she were promoted! She had just coped with one worry, and here was another!\n\n\"I move we thank Miss Spencer for her kind help and consideration,\" Flopsy stood as she spoke. She felt that she was being very brave and gallant. She had just coped with one worry, and here was another.\nFlopsy was momentarily depressed at the thought she might not be promoted, but now she was thinking of someone else.\n\n198 Almost Fifteen\n\nThe last meeting of the Sophomore B class was completely satisfactory to Flopsy. She longed to rush home and tell her mother the joke, but she waited to walk home with Fleurette and Alice.\n\n\"I think it's grand that you're going to be our vice president,\" Fleurette said enthusiastically, the first moment they were alone. \"It's great for School Number Nine.\"\n\n\"She's not elected yet. She's only nominated,\" Alice corrected promptly. \"Ethel Warren might win. Being nominated, and being elected, are two different things, and you'd better wait until the election is over.\"\n\n\"It is this time,\" Fleurette snapped. \"Who ever heard of Ethel Warren?\"\n\n\"A few people have, or she wouldn't have been nominated.\"\nThey ought to have waited until next term to nominate people. Some people may not be promoted. I wish we'd waited until Babbie got back. I bet she would have been nominated. Alice's tone was calm, although it had an edge to it.\n\n\"What do you want to bet Flopsy is elected?\" Fleurette challenged.\n\n\"I won't bet. Probably she will be. I'll vote for her, of course. She's my sorority sister. I have to.\" Alice snapped this time.\n\nFlopsy's heart sank. She looked pleadingly at Fleurette. This was mean, just mean of Alice!\n\n\"I don't have to vote for Flopsy. I'm going to be because she's my friend, and I want her to be vice president.\" Fleurette's face was pink with anger.\n\n\"No one has to vote for me. I don't care who, or what, they are. Babbie would never have run against me. I know\"\nShe's too good a friend. I didn't say she would. And don't be silly about my voting for you. You know I would. We Delta Sigma Deltas \u2014 Shut up! Oh, stop it, Alice! This was terrible! It was the first time the Delta Sigma Delta had been mentioned before Fleurette. Besides, the Delta Sigma Delta isn't \u2014 Now, you stop it! I won't say another word. Don't worry. I won't. Flopsy slipped her arm through Fleurette's and squeezed it. And I'd drop dead on the spot, Alice Holt, if you were ever nice after I'd been elected to anything. Don't be silly! This has nothing to do with your being elected, and you aren't anyway. You're hoping I am.\nWe want our sorority sisters to be elected. \"Good night!\" Fleurette fired a parting shot. \"I understand you, Alice. I'm not stupid. But you are, if you think I am.\" Fleurette marched off, and Flopsy looked after her regretfully. She turned to Alice and demanded, \"Why did you have to do that? Why did you mention the D.S.D. to her? That was mean!\" \"What difference does it make? She knows you are in it, and she knows too, that she isn't. And she never will be.\" \"Not in the D.S.D. maybe, but in the new sorority. You wait and see,\" Flopsy said, her brown eyes wrathful. \"You wait and see!\" Alice returned grimly. \"You try to get her in, and see what happens. As a friend, I am giving you this advice. I'm warning you. She will be blackballed.\" \"Blackballed?\" Flopsy echoed blankly.\n\"Yes, blackballed,\" Alice repeated firmly. \"It takes only two blackballs to keep anyone out of the sorority! Only two.\" Not for anything in the world, would Flopsy have admitted ignorance on the subject of blackballs or that she had never heard of them before. But she could guess what Alice was implying. Maybe blackballs were sorority members. Anyway, two of them could keep Fleurette from being a member.\n\n\"Are you going to be a blackball?\" Flopsy asked.\n\nAlice laughed. \"You're a nut! How can I be a blackball?\"\n\nFlopsy flushed. At the moment, Alice could be almost anything black, she could think of, even a ball.\n\n\"I'm hoping that Fleurette will be a member, and I'm going to see that she is,\" Flopsy's lips were set in a stubborn line. \"And don't you stop me.\"\n\nAlice shrugged. \"I won't have to do a thing. I promised.\"\nI won't blackball Fleurette. But I never could see why you were so crazy about her.\n\nI'm not crazy about her. I'm not crazy about anyone. But she's my friend. And you've had a lot of fun with her sometimes. And you have gone to her house. Why do you want to be so mean?\n\nI'm not mean. You started all this! You get excited over nothing! Forget it. Alice's tone was now smooth and syrupy.\n\nFlopsy said nothing, but she was raging inside. Alice always made her feel as though she had been excited over nothing. It was a hateful sensation. It made her feel foolish. Alice always seemed to come out on top in an argument. But the discussion was abandoned for the time.\n\nFlopsy did not go into details that night about what had happened on the way home. She simply said, \"Alice always gets snippy every time I'm elected to anything!\"\n\"Her mother looked thoughtful. \"Throughout your life, you will find that if it isn't Alice Holt, there will be other 'Alices' to grudge you your successes. Sadly, they will often be among your inner circle of friends,\" Flopsy stared at her mother, not quite grasping the meaning. She turned it over in her mind and asked, \"You know Dottie Green? I hardly ever see her these days, but she rushed up to me after the meeting and hugged me. She said she was so proud of me and that she liked having the old Number Nine get offices. Maybe there will be two, because Bill is running for President. Won't that be funny? Number Nine will be tops in the Sophomore A!\" Mrs. Moore smiled. \"Now tell me about your Treasurer's report. You haven't mentioned it. You'd never forget that, Flopsy.\"\"\nFlopsy's eyes opened wide with excitement. \"How could I forget? The funniest, craziest thing happened! You'll never guess! The two dollars that were a 'shortage' were for flowers for me! You know the flowers for my black eye? Isn't that a riot? I - you - had to pay for my flowers.\"\n\n\"Good gracious, Flopsy! We didn't pay for your flowers.\"\n\n\"Why!\" Flopsy stared at her mother unbelieving. \"Why - mother! Of course we did. If I hadn't had those flowers, we wouldn't have had to put two dollars into the treasury. Why, of course, we paid for them!\"\n\nMrs. Moore sighed deeply. \"Flopsy, sometimes, in fact, a good part of the time, I think you are a bright little girl. But there are times - and, at the moment, I am confused.\"\nIn despair, the two dollars for your flowers have no connection to the two dollars we had to put in the treasury. If you hadn't bought the flowers and the class hadn't purchased them, we would still have had to contribute two dollars to the treasury. It was short two dollars, whether we had flowers or not.\n\nFlopsy could, at that moment, refute her mother's skeptical compliment. Almost always, she thought her mother was very smart, but not this time. Mrs. Moore could see the doubt in her eyes and, patiently, she tried to clarify the situation. In the end, Flopsy acknowledged she understood her mother's point \u2013 but \u2013 / And Mrs. Moore felt that Flopsy would always believe she wouldn't have been short in her accounts if not for those flowers!\nThe mid-year examinations were only two days away. Flopsy studied hard. But how could one study algebra? She was almost tempted to chew her finger nails off as she looked through her algebra book. The history examination came first. She never had to worry about that. Once in a while, she didn't study her history lesson at all. In fact, she didn't even open the book. But by listening attentively to the other recitations in class, she usually knew the lesson before the period was over. She might, occasionally, be a day behind, but she always caught up in this way. The night before the algebra examination, she went over to Babbie, and for hours it seemed, Babbie coached her. Babbie was always a whiz at mathematics, and she took this task very seriously. She must see to it that Flopsy passed.\n\"You must be promoted. You're behind now in Latin. You mustn't flunk algebra too! Babbie's eyes were filled with grave concern. \"You'd be good in algebra, honestly, if you'd only concentrate.\" Flopsy was pleased, for it must be true. This evening, she had concentrated, and she had followed Babbie quite brilliantly. She was better tonight than she had ever been. Concentrating wasn't so difficult, once in a while, but it was too much effort, day after day!\n\nA week later, Flopsy stayed after school to get her final marks on all the examinations. She had gone from teacher to teacher. She looked at her algebra mark as she read it from a slip of paper. She was thrilled. She was delighted! She could hardly wait to tell Babbie. It was wonderful. She had gotten seventy-one. She had passed. Algebra was over and done with,\"\nShe would never have to deal with it again in her life. It was unbelievable and marvellous. Her history mark annoyed her nearly as much as the algebra mark had pleased her. It was only ninety-three. Last term, she had had ninety-seven. Flopsy's exuberant excitement over her algebra rating was almost overshadowed by the fact that she had not reached her usual high mark in history. Her Latin mark was quite serious, as she was just over the danger line. The Dean, Miss Burroughs, wanted to see her about it. She should have done much better, considering that she was taking it for the second time. Miss Burroughs suggested that she might want to give up Latin and change her course.\nShe would be better in scientific subjects. Flopsy walked out of Hamilton High School's big front door that afternoon, almost completely happy. Nothing, not even her ninety-three rating in history, could depress her. She was a Sophomore A. Besides, she had passed English with the highest mark in the class, ninety-six. Her French mark had not been so bad either, seventy-nine.\n\nShe stood on the top step as she came through the doors and looked about. There must be someone around to whom she could tell her exciting news. She hoped it would be Alice. There was no one in the world she'd rather tell that she was a Sophomore A. Alice had doubted that she would make it. Flopsy's eyes brightened. There was Alice! She waved an arm and shouted, \"Hey, wait for me!\" Alice waited. She could guess that Flopsy had good news.\n\"There was never any mistaking Flopsy's pose. \"Hey, wait for me!\" Flopsy called.\n\n\"Almost Fifteen, session of good news, or bad. You could tell a mile away! Alice's expression was not pleasant. She had just learned that she had flunked in history.\n\n\"Well, what's the big news?\" Alice called as Flopsy came within earshot.\n\n\"Alice, what do you think I got in algebra? You'll never guess.\" Flopsy's face was beaming.\n\n\"Why should I try, if I can't guess? You look as though you'd gotten ninety-eight. How did it happen? Who did you sit next to?\" The last remark was supposed to be a joke, although nothing in Alice's manner or tone indicated that she was in good humor.\n\nFlopsy's face grew sober, but she answered only a little less jubilantly than she had planned, \"Don't be silly! I'd never get ninety-eight in algebra. I really got a ninety.\"\"\n\"But I did pass, as you didn't expect. Two of the worst students sat near me. \"Did you pass everything?\" Alice asked quickly. Flopsy nodded. \"Everything! I'm a Sophomore. It would have been embarrassing if I hadn't, especially since I'm running for Vice-President. But I think it's silly to have to drag mothers into our battles. The history examination wasn't fair at all,\" Alice complained. Flopsy forgot that she hadn't been too happy about her history mark. But after all, one couldn't complain too much about ninety-three, could one? \"I got ninety-three in history,\" Flopsy said calmly. High Finance 207 \"It was a harder examination than the last one. I got\"\nAlice and Flopsy walked down the street, both feeling unhappy after the examinations. They didn't argue, but were close to it. It would have helped clear the air.\n\nMr. Moore teased Flopsy at dinner that night. \"So, you're disappointed because you got a ninety-three in history and proud of a seventy-one in algebra. I need more time to understand this. It's not entirely clear to me yet. There must be more to this than meets the eye!\" He was smiling.\nMr. Moore was pleased that Flopsy had passed all her subjects. The first day after the examination results were announced, Alice met Flopsy in the hall right after the first period. She was breathless with excitement.\n\n\"Wait till you hear! Bill Forbes and Frank Gordon are being initiated. You should see them. They are all painted up, and I heard that they have Limburger cheese rubbed in their hair.\"\n\nFlopsy's face lit up with excitement. \"Haven't they got nerve! Imagine!\"\n\n\"And did they get roared at!\" Alice was all in a twitter. \"If you see Rosemary, or any of the others, pass on the news. It's going to be fun. Maybe we can think up something.\"\n\nAfter the second period, Rosemary hurried up behind Flopsy and caught her arm.\n\n\"Come with me, precious. I have something to show you. It's worth seeing. It's worth risking detention.\"\nRosemary walked toward the stairs leading down to the first floor. \"Come on, come on. It's a chance, but you'll be rewarded. It's a sight that will warm your heart. I've got a scheme.\" Flopsy followed eagerly, her heart pounding with excitement. There was something doing! She was burning up with curiosity. It must be something extraordinary to make Rosemary act this way. Rosemary was not naturally rash. She had a great deal of good common sense.\n\n\"It's about Bill and Frank, I bet!\" Flopsy surmised as they hurried downstairs.\n\n\"Hush!\" Rosemary cautioned. \"Follow me. Say nothing.\"\n\nTo Flopsy's amazement, Rosemary was now walking straight toward the office. She turned and faced Flopsy just as she got to the door.\n\n\"Follow me in and look about! I have lost my...\"\nRosemary marched into the office. \"Have you turned in my purse?\" she asked. Flopsy followed, her heart pounding. Rosemary stopped and waited. Nudging Flopsy, she turned her head. Bill and Frank sat by the wall, the most disgusted and dejected-looking pair of boys one could find. Bill's hair was soaking wet and stuck out in all directions, and Frank's kinky blonde hair was also wet. Their faces were white, shiny from soap and water, and their expressions were miserable and worried. Neither boy noticed the girls at first; both were intently looking down at their shoes.\nI don't see anyone to ask about my purse,\" Mary said clearly. \"I'll come back at noon.\" She stood next to Bill, and he looked up with an expression beyond description. He nudged Frank, whose eyes rolled up in their sockets. When he saw Mary's taunting, jubilant expression, he tried to grin nonchalantly. But it was a very feeble grin.\n\n\"I think I'd better come back at noon too,\" Flopsy leaned over and spoke almost into Bill's ear. \"What I want will be here then too.\" She gave Bill's foot a little kick, and he responded with a grim look of utter disdain. She turned up her nose in derision and stuck out her tongue as she and Mary headed towards the door.\n\n\"Just too smart. Just too funny!\" Mary tossed her head.\nThe girls hugged each other outside the door. \"They don't have any sense! Serves them right,\" Rosemary said. \"And that's not all! They have to stay there until their mothers come to school. Isn't that perfect?\" Rosemary chirped gleefully. \"We had more sense!\" Flopsy bragged. \"I never let a peep out of me all day long, the day I was initiated.\" \"Is revenge sweet?\" Rosemary asked. \"It sure is, honey!\" \"What are you two girls doing on this floor?\" a familiar voice asked. It was Principal Bradley. \"And the bell has rung for the next period. You shouldn't be wandering about and talking loudly.\" \"We went to the office. I lost my purse. But I'll be back at noon. I can't wait now,\" Rosemary answered quickly.\n\u201cDid  you  have  a  slip  from  your  teacher  to  come \nhere?\u201d  he  asked  sternly. \n\u201cI  was  so  worried  I  forgot,\u201d  Rosemary  answered \nmeekly.  \u201cI  am  sorry.\u201d \nFlopsy  stood  by  in  horror.  No  one  trifled  with  Dr. \nBradley. \nDr.  Bradley  looked  down  at  them  gravely  from \nunder  his  bushy  eyebrows. \n\u201cGo  to  your  classrooms  at  once,  and  go  quietly.\u201d  He \nturned  on  his  heel  and  stalked  toward  the  office. \nRosemary  and  Flopsy  walked  toward  the  stairs, \ntheir  own  faces  nearly  as  white  as  the  boys  had  been. \n\u201cI  think  you\u2019ll  have  to  carry  me  upstairs,  my  knees \nare  caving  in!\u201d  Flopsy  whispered  with  a  little  giggle \nin  Rosemary\u2019s  ear. \n\u201cYou\u2019ll  climb  up  them  there  stairs,  me  gal,  on  your \nown  steam!  I\u2019m  weak  myself.\u201d  Rosemary  patted \nFlopsy  and  grinned.  \u201cWhat  an  escape!\u201d \nChapter  Nine \nBabbie  to  the  Rescue \nFOR  the  next  few  days  Hamilton  High  School  was \nin  more  or  less  of  an  upheaval.  Several  hundred \nThe \"freshmen,\" as the upper classes referred to them, were swarming everywhere. They rushed here and there, looking excited and confused. The teachers appeared equally excited and confused. Hamilton had been originally planned and built for half the number of students now in attendance.\n\nFlopsy and her friends had lost track of Bill Forbes and Frank Gordon during this hectic interval. They had not appeared in classrooms or study halls. No one was sure what had happened to them. But rumors were abundant! First, the boys had been suspended, and then they had not, according to the persistent talk. But no one knew anything definite. Both seemed to have vanished completely, as neither was seen anywhere, either in school or out of it. The earth seemed to have swallowed them whole.\nThey say Dr. Bradley was wild. He won't have any more such nonsense. My mother heard at her club that Forbes and Gordon had to go to school, number 212. In a way, I am sorry for poor Frank. His father is an awful crank.\n\n\"I don't feel too sorry,\" Flopsy spoke with a self-satisfied air. \"It serves them both just good and right for breaking into Helen Putnam's cellar that night. They could have gone to jail for that! And then I heard they turned the study hall into a riot that morning. Everybody was holding their noses. They say Bill put some of the limburger cheese on the radiator so the smell would be even worse. He was afraid they couldn't smell what he had in his hair. Of course, they couldn't get away with that!\"\n\"But where are they now? I haven't seen Frank since it happened,\" Alice asked.\n\"They don't want to give us the satisfaction of teasing them. That's all. They want us to think they had a better initiation than we did. And I'm laughing! Ha! Ha! You can cry if you want to, I won't,\" the response came.\nThe girls never managed to get a word out of the boys when they finally saw them. Bill and Frank grinned broadly but shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders. What were they talking about? It sounded like gibberish to them. Of course, they had been to school every day! What trouble? They hadn't had any trouble! What initiation? Whose initiation? No amount of teasing, gibing, or tormenting could shake the boys out of their good-natured indifference. They continued to grin, and the girls finally gave up.\nBabbie had to give up in the end. They knew that they would never be able to get either Bill or Frank to admit anything! Babbie had come back to school, and Flopsy was delighted. Any day now, the girls were going to have the meeting to reorganize their sorority. They wanted to make sure that Babbie would be there, and Babbie seemed to be looking forward to it as great fun. But she surprised Flopsy, as the Glee Club seemed to appeal to her quite as much, if not more. After she had attended her first meeting, she met Flopsy and her cheeks were burning with excitement.\n\n\"Oh, Flopsy, I met the most wonderful girl at the Glee Club. You should hear her play the violin and the piano. She\u2019s marvellous. She\u2019s a Junior A, but she\u2019s so tiny. I could have listened to her for hours. You must hear her!\"\n\"Who is she?\", asked Flopsy with eager interest.\n\"Her name is Judith Weinstein. Her uncle runs the dry goods store down on Elm Street. She's sweet! And so clever! She's up for the honor society,\" replied Babbie.\nFlopsy looked at Babbie in surprise, but with a strange feeling of satisfaction and pride. Alice always said that Flopsy talked and bothered with all sorts of girls she wouldn't even notice. Now, Babbie had discovered a girl no one had ever heard of - none of Flopsy's friends had. Wouldn't they be surprised, and perhaps annoyed, when they heard that Babbie liked Judith Weinstein! They thought their own little clique was the only one worth knowing in the whole school. Well, Flopsy and Babbie knew better. Judith must have gone to Number Two School. Most of Flopsy's acquaintances scorned the former pupils of that school.\n\"Two ignored, Flopsy slipped her arm through Babbie's. \"Tell me about her?\" Flopsy asked. \"I brought my guitar and banjo to school. At the meeting, I sang and played cowboy songs. Judith loved them. I noticed she had a violin, so I asked her to play. At first, she refused, being new in the Glee Club and shy. I begged and begged. At last, she did. Oh, Flopsy!\" Babbie's eyes were soft and glowing, and she stopped talking, unable to describe Judith's playing to her satisfaction. \"The others were as thrilled as I was!\" she concluded excitedly. \"Miss Allison, the music teacher, was there. She came and thanked me for encouraging Judith to play. No one had dreamed she could.\"\"\nYou'd like Judith. She's only been in this country a few years, but she speaks perfect English \u2013 when she speaks. But she doesn't talk much. Her mother and father are dead. I found out a lot about her, and I took her home with me. Molly was crazy about her.\n\nFlopsy's pride in Babbie was growing by leaps and bounds. It almost choked her. Babbie didn't have an envious or jealous streak in her whole nature. She was genuine in every sense of the word.\n\n\"Oh, I'd love to hear her,\" Flopsy spoke eagerly. \"I'd love to hear her play. But you know me. I don't know anything about music. Especially a violin. It will be hard for me to sit still. But I will, Babbie! But I bet I'll still love your cowboy songs much better!\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" Babbie protested, \"You couldn't, you couldn't like them better.\"\n\nBabbie to the Rescue 215.\n\"But I could, Babbie, honestly. A violin makes me nervous as anything. But if you say it's beautiful, I'll sit still and shut my eyes, and make believe I like it. I think it's grand that you like Judith. I'll like her too. And won't it annoy Alice!\" she added with keen satisfaction. \"She'll make fun of me when I say I like a violin, and she won't like Judith, I know. She'll start an argument.\"\n\nBabbie frowned. \"Don't tell her about Judith. I don't want anyone to hear about her and not like her. Poor Judith would never want anyone to argue about her.\"\n\nFlopsy nodded. She was very happy. She knew definitely now that Babbie would be on her side when the big moment came. Babbie couldn't be snobbish, for it wasn't her nature to be. This happy thought was shadowed for a second. Would it really clear the way?\nFlopsy wasn't certain if Babbie would do or say anything. It was comforting to know she had one staunch ally. Rosemary stopped Flopsy a few days later. \"Well, honey, we are going to get going. We are having a meeting at Helen Putnam's day after tomorrow, right after school. It's in her cellar again. But we're going to keep the furnace room door open this time, so there can't possibly be any eavesdropping. I'm asking Babbie too, and you have to come prepared with ideas. Think up some Greek letters for our name. And, by the way, we may take in some new members. Two of our old members graduated this February.\" Flopsy nodded. Her heart was pounding so hard she could scarcely breathe. It had come \u2014 at last! How could she wait two more days? \"I hope,\" Alice had said as they walked toward.\nHelen Putnam asked, \"Please don't mention Fleurette for membership. We've been friends since birth, and suggesting her won't do you any good. It will cause trouble.\" Alice seemed sincere. \"Believe me, I know. Please, Flopsy, don't suggest Fleurette. She wouldn't be happy in our sorority. Some girls don't like her.\" Alice hurried to stop Flopsy's response, \"I don't dislike her. I'm not crazy about her, but be sensible, please.\" By this time, Alice had convinced herself of her honesty. They had been friends for many years, and she was genuinely worried.\n\"You were at her house last week. We had a swell time!\" Flopsy's eyes were narrowed, her mouth set in a stubborn line.\n\n\"Yes, we did,\" Alice sighed. She was frightened. She had never seen Flopsy quite like this before.\n\n\"And you were very glad to go!\" Flopsy's expression was grim. \"We had wonderful things to eat and Mrs. Muldoon was grand to us.\"\n\nIt was quite true. Mrs. Muldoon had thought that Fleurette had needed a little party as a reward for having passed all of her examinations, and had told her that she might invite eight boys and girls. A girl Flopsy and Alice scarcely knew, and her special boy friend Babbie were there. The other boys were Frank, Bill, and Harold Brownley. They had a grand time, and Bill was never sillier. Although the girls did not realize it, he was trying to show them that he had nothing for them.\nThis was shortly after the Limberger cheese incident at school. On this particular night at Fleurette's party, Bill's act was to appear ravenous for food. Everyone offered him extra tidbits, and he ate and ate and ate. One would have thought he must burst! Mrs. Muldoon was highly amused but also delighted. Nothing in the world pleased her more than that people should appreciate her cooking. She replenished Bill's plate time after time, and he, again and again, accepted more food without protest. Mrs. Muldoon pretended despair but managed to bring an endless supply of cakes, candies, and sandwiches. The evening was a grand success. He had even suggested stopping at a \"dog wagon\" for hamburgers \u2013 for he was simply starving! But the girls refused, as they had promised to be home.\nAt a definite hour, Bill pretended to be crying and then they had more fun as he walked home with them. Flopsy knew that Alice had had an exceptionally good time, for Mrs. Muldoon had been a lavish hostess. Fleurette's friends could have had anything in her house. Flopsy was thinking about this as she and Alice walked along. She wasn't going to give in. She had made up her mind, and she'd stick to her guns no matter what happened. Babbie had gone home to get her guitar, as the girls had asked her to bring it to the meeting. They were wildly enthusiastic and could listen for hours to the songs she sang and played. There had been years when cowboys were Babbie's only companions. They had come from miles away to entertain her, and she had copied their mannerisms and the very intonation.\nShe learned cowboy songs, mimicking their voices unconsciously. Upon reaching Helen's home that afternoon, all the girls were present. Babbie, unaware of the tension, greeted them with a lack of suspicion. She thought they were in high spirits, especially Alice Holt, whose cheeks burned fiercely and eyes shone unnaturally. Alice was determined to ward off any unpleasantness. Flopsy, however, was quiet. Her face was very pale, and her eyes were large and grave. She couldn't laugh, as her mouth seemed frozen. It was hard for her to feign happiness when she felt so deeply.\n\n\"Hello, puddin'.\" Rosemary patted Flopsy's cheek as she passed. Rosemary noticed something was amiss with Flopsy.\nwrong,  but  she  had  no  idea  what  it  might  be.  \u201cAny\u00ac \nthing  got  you  down?\u201d \nFlopsy  shook  her  head.  \u201cOh,  no,  I\u2019m  all  right  1\u201d  she \nanswered  in  a  strained  voice.  Rosemary  stared  at  her, \npuzzled.  \u201cWhat\u2019s  the  matter  with  Flopsy?\u201d  she  whis\u00ac \npered  to  Alice  Holt  a  few  minutes  later. \nAlice  swallowed  hard,  some  of  the  color  leaving  her \nface.  \u201cOh,  I  don\u2019t  know \u2014 \u201d  she  answered,  looking \nover  at  Flopsy  anxiously.  There  was  no  doubt  about \nBabbie  to  the  Rescue  219 \nit.  They  were  in  for  it.  At  that  moment,  Alice  would \nhave  preferred  to  be  anywhere  else  on  earth  rather \nthan  at  this  meeting. \nRosemary  presided  over  the  meeting,  as  she  had  been \nthe  vice-president  of  the  Delta  Sigma  Delta.  The  presi\u00ac \ndent,  Anita  Lowe,  had  just  graduated,  but  as  she  had \nalways  been  very  shy,  Rosemary  had  usually  taken \nover  the  reins  at  all  of  the  meetings. \nIt had been decided that the new sorority should be called Alpha Gamma. After juggling the Greek alpha-bet about for weeks, the girls felt these two letters were neat and effective.\n\n\"Does anyone know what they mean?\" Rosemary asked with a grin, \"except AG. Come, come, we must have a Greek scholar in our midst. Speak up, even if it's Greek to us! How about you, Flopsy, you are our linguist? How do you like that word?\" This was supposed to be very funny, and was intended to draw Flopsy out of her bewildering silence. The only answer was a shake of the head. Flopsy, Rosemary thought uneasily, was going to cling tightly to this mood of hers! Whatever was the matter?\n\n\"Before we go on to the password, how about a little music? It might inspire us. Perhaps we could have a nifty little chant,\" Rosemary suggested despondently.\nAlice turned to Babbie in a near-frantic effort to avoid the trouble she felt was imminent.\n\n\"Oh, please, please!\" Alice begged. She, too, hoped that this would make Flopsy forget her pet project.\n\nBabbie picked up her guitar and, with a grin and a bow, began to sing and play. She had been listening to a conversation between Joan and Helen, who were sitting on some cushions on the floor. They had been speaking in an undertone during Rosemary's joking remarks, and although Babbie hadn't quite understood what they were talking about, it had made her uncomfortable.\n\n\"She's sore over something!\" Babbie had heard Helen say.\n\nWithout mentioning who \"she\" was, Joan answered, \"Alice gave me a hint. And if she thinks she is...\"\n\"I'm going to get that girl in. She's got another thing coming. I told Rosemary this would happen! But she wouldn't listen to me. You stick with me, Helen. Don't forget.\n\nOK. I will! You bet I will! Both girls had stared at Flopsy. What was it? What was it all about? Babbie was very uneasy. But she soon forgot everything, everyone. She was lost in her songs. The minute she would finish one, they would shout, \"More! More! We want more!\"\n\nAt last Babbie laid her guitar in her lap and breathlessly sputtered, \"Give me a chance to catch my breath. I'm winded.\" And it was small wonder, for some of her songs had countless verses which told long, long stories, and seemed to go on forever. Babbie's eyes were dancing. Two bright spots of color burned in her cheeks. She felt as though she were back at\"\nBabbie was fully expected to receive roars of approval from a group of men. They had always been proud of her as their star pupil, having taught her all the music they knew. For a moment, Babbie wished she had brought her harmonica. The girls would have laughed. She had forgotten, for the moment, the disturbing whispered conversation. She was supremely happy. She had bridged the gap between Rawhide and Hamilton High School.\n\n\"You deserve a rest,\" Rosemary nodded. \"And that was grand! How about giving our new member a great big hand?\"\n\nThe girls clapped wildly, and Rosemary watched Flopsy closely. Had she snapped out of whatever it was? Flopsy's face was turned on Babbie in warm and glowing admiration. She was fairly bursting with pride. But in her face, there was something else too.\n\"Just as if she were thinking, \"Oh, I'm so glad you're my friend, a friend on whom I can count!\" Rosemary asked, \"Shall we discuss the password now? Or shall I appoint a password committee? We may never get anywhere by just suggesting crazy things this afternoon. How about you, Babbie? Will you be chairman? I'll bet you've heard all kinds of funny yodeling around the ranch.\"\n\n\"Oh, that's a good idea.\" Joan Basset agreed. \"We'd just waste a lot of time and we have lots of other business. And Babbie would be marvelous.\"\n\n\"O.K.\" Rosemary smiled. \"And Babbie select your own committee.\" Her smile was a little strained. Joan was worrying her now. Joan's words had something behind them. Babbie nodded. She was very much pleased. This was the first time she had ever been chairman of a committee, and this committee would be a lot of fun, too!\"\n\"Now what next?\" Rosemary asked, wanting to adjourn the meeting. \"Two of our members have graduated,\" Joan answered quickly. \"I think we could take in two more girls. And, we should put on a good initiation to make up for that last one!\" Joan looked directly at Flopsy, as though challenging her. \"And remember the old rule. Two blackballs keep a girl out \u2013 only two.\"\n\nFlopsy looked at Joan in surprise and confusion. Why was Joan looking at her in such an unfriendly manner? Could Joan have read her mind? She hadn't told anyone that she was going to propose Fleurette.\n\n\"Has anyone a name to propose?\" Rosemary asked hesitantly. \"Now, and no fooling,\" she thought to herself, \"the fun will begin.\" She remembered that, in the past, there had always been a terrific fight over the new initiates.\n\"I propose, using Rosemary's words for greater formality, Fleurette Muldoon,\" Flopsy suggested.\n\nJoan smirked disagreeably at Rosemary. \"I told you this would happen. But, oh, no, you didn't believe me.\" Then she addressed the group, directing her words at Flopsy. \"Yes, we'll vote on Fleurette's name right this minute. And remember, two blackballs are all that we need to keep her out.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that crack?\" Flopsy asked Babbie hotly. \"Why did you have to add that? Why did you have to remind everyone about the blackballs? Why?\"\n\n\"You'll find out soon enough,\" Joan snapped.\n\n\"I'll find out right this minute. You didn't need to say it. All you had to do was vote. You were giving unnecessary information.\"\npeople should want to blackball Fleurette? We don't have to give reasons, Flora Moore. The votes are kept secret.\n\nThe room was very still. All eyes were on these two girls, first on Flopsy, then on Joan.\n\n\"You aren't keeping your vote secret. Anyone could tell you are going to blackball Fleurette. And you are hinting that someone else should do it, too. That's not fair. And why should you blackball Fleurette, I'd like to know?\"\n\n\"Oh, would you?\" Joan sneered. \"Well, I don't have to tell you, but I will. I'm going to blackball Fleurette Muldoon because she's common and ordinary.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" Rosemary put up her hand, \"Wait, Flopsy! Joan shouldn't \u2014 \"\n\n\"I won't wait!\" Flopsy blazed, sweeping from head to foot with temper. \"How dare you say she's common!\"\nShe's unusual. She's not like many girls. She's different. She isn't mopey and stupid and sentimental. She's fun and she's alive! And she's my friend! Do you hear that, Joan Bassett?\n\n\"I heard you, and I still say she's common. Her grammar is terrible. Her mother is common too, and laughs so loudly in stores that you can hear her all over. I'd be ashamed to tell my mother that Fleurette was in our sorority. I'd be ashamed to be seen with her in public.\"\n\n\"Joan Bassett!\" Rosemary ordered, \"Stop it!\"\n\n\"I've been seen in public with her for three years. I've walked home from school with her hundreds of times. I've had her at my home, and I've been to hers. Are you telling me that I ought to be ashamed?\"\n\n\"Take it or leave it.\" Joan spoke now with slow malice. \"I don't care what you think. I know what I think.\"\n\"I can think for myself, I'd be ashamed to call any sorority sister of mine such a big snob as you are. A snob is an awful, awful person. The worst kind of person!\" Flopsy's words tumbled out now in a torrent. She didn't know what she was saying, and she didn't care! \"Mrs. Muldoon is the kindest, biggest-hearted mother you ever heard of! That's not common or ordinary.\" Babbie's face was as white as a sheet of paper. She leaned over and laid her guitar against the leg of the divan. Then she sat very straight and stared in horrified fascination at Joan. She could scarcely believe her ears or her eyes. Alice's head was lowered. Rosemary leaned back in her chair and looked up at the ceiling, gently tapping her foot on the floor. There was nothing more she could do for the moment. She realized\"\nShe couldn't stop either girl. \"You knew Alice Holt and I were Fleurette's friends. You saw us together lots of times. If Fleurette were common, why did we go with her? Do you think Alice and I can't tell?\" (Babbie to the Rescue 225)\n\n\"I'm not going to talk to you. I'm going to vote, and Helen's going to vote.\"\n\n\"You're going to blackball Fleurette. I know. We all know. Well, if you do\u2014\" Flopsy broke off to catch her breath before making her threat.\n\n\"If I do, you'll resign. You won't have to! The Alpha Gamma hasn't started yet, and you don't have to join. That would be simple. No bother at all. Easy as falling off a log.\"\n\nThe silence that followed this suggestion was positively stifling. The air was charged with a terrific and unbearable electricity. Babbie's color had come back into her face.\nThe only girl in the cellar who breathed easily and naturally was she. Her eyes, momentarily nearly black, held a glint no one had seen before. Her hands relaxed in her lap. She straightened her back and looked at Joan steadily and coolly.\n\n\"That was poison mean!\" she drawled.\n\nThe roomful of girls came to life at the sound and timbre of her voice. They had been frozen into stiff, unnatural positions. Now, every girl turned her head in Babbie's direction. Joan, too, stared, but in confusion, bewilderment, and dismay. She had, for the moment, no answer to give.\n\n\"Hallelujah!\" Rosemary puffed out her breath in a thankful shout. \"Amen, Sister!\"\n\nJoan looked about the room, from one face to another. Then she looked back at Babbie again. Babbie's eyes were still upon her, watching her with a steady gaze.\nJoan was awed as Babbie drawled, \"I think that is mean.\" (Babbie to the Rescue 227)\n\nJoan's mind worked feverishly after the first shock of Babbie's tone and words had worn off. Rosemary's shout had been significant, and Joan realized that every girl in that room considered Babbie important. The Stevens had been, from both a social and financial viewpoint, the most important family in town for several generations. And now Babbie was a part of this tradition. She lived with the Stevens, and Joan knew how her own mother felt about them. It couldn't be, it just couldn't.\nBabbie couldn't be so fond of Fleurette Muldoon that she would fight for her? What was Babbie thinking? The deep-seated snobbery in Joan was the battleground for a bitter, though cold-blooded, tussle. Her contempt for Fleurette and her awe of the Stewart's social position were in conflict. She would have to decide within the next few minutes.\n\n\"Oh, Babbie! Babbie!\" Flopsy's voice broke, and she buried her face in her arms. At first, she had been as surprised as Joan at Babbie's tone, but when she heard Rosemary's shout, she felt that something had really happened. She was now sobbing. Rosemary put her hand on Flopsy's head.\n\n\"Don't worry, sugar! Sit up and listen.\" Rosemary's voice was soothing.\n\nBabbie gave Flopsy one distressed glance, then promptly turned her gaze back to Joan again. She\n\"Barbara Hilton, you're a grand girl!,\" Rosemary smiled approvingly. Babbie didn't respond. She waited for Joan's first words. Alice looked at Rosemary, then at Babbie and Joan. During the battle, Alice had been as miserable as she had ever been in her life. She, too, was having a tussle. After all, she had long been friends with Flopsy. When Joan had suggested Flopsy's expulsion from the sorority, Alice had been indignant and angry. That was going too far. Now she swallowed hard and spoke in a steady voice.\n\n\"It wasn't fair in the beginning to leave Fleurette out and break up our friendship. I, Flopsy, and Fleurette did go around together.\"\nMy sister, Mildred, was once a member of Delta Sigma Delta. She said long ago that it was mean. Mildred said that when she got to her college, her sorority made a rule never to break up friendships. If two out of three girls were good enough, the other one was good enough too.\n\n\"Well! That makes sense to me,\" Rosemary turned her head and looked at Alice. \"And, I am going to insist that it be a rule in our new sorority. My hat is off to you, Alice Holt!\"\n\nAlice turned pink with pleasure. She had never felt as proud as at this very minute. She went over to Flopsy and put her arms around her.\n\n\"It's going to be all right, Flopsy. Please don't cry any more. Fleurette will be taken in. You wait and see!\"\n\nFlopsy, with her arms around Alice's neck, sobbed wildly.\nBabbie looked at Joan sympathetically and then turned to her. \"What do you say, Joan? What do you say about Fleurette? Did you mean that about Flopsy not belonging to the sorority?\" Joan's struggle was over. Her respect for the Stewart family had won.\n\n\"Why, I don't care! I don't care!\" She shrugged her shoulders. \"And besides, Babbie, I was only kidding when I told Flopsy she could get out of the sorority. You didn't think I meant it? How could I? I am only one. I can't put people out. Anyway, Flopsy was talking as though she wanted to get out.\"\n\n\"I reckon then, I don't know kidding when I hear it,\" Babbie drawled, unconsciously imitating one of the cowboys on the ranch. \"He never got excited, but he could make any hot-blooded cowhand see red.\"\n\"headed or \"ony\" person feels silly, with his slow drawling comments. \"Well, just skip that kind of fooling, honey. It's likely to bring on nervous breakdowns. We don't all take it the way you mean it,\" Rosemary ordered, with a decided edge to her voice. Rosemary had been arguing with Joan on this subject for several months.\n\nJoan was astonished at the girls' eagerness to accept Fleurette and make her one of them. It was amazing! It hardly seemed possible! She looked from one to the other intently and thought fast. She had no wish to find herself, alone, in an unpopular position. No one was paying any attention to her. She had to give in to Babbie. But she did not have to give in to Flopsy. Joan turned her back on Flopsy and faced Babbie.\n\n\"Well, Babbie, if you want Fleurette, I am sure I'll find a way to make it work.\"\n\"never say, \u2018no.\u2019 I didn\u2019t realize how much you liked her or that you wanted her. I\u2019ve never really spoken to her but once or twice. You know her much better than I do. I did say she was pretty, didn\u2019t I, Rosemary?\u201d Joan appealed to Rosemary.\n\nRosemary's expression was indescribable. She stared at Joan and then answered with a slow smile, \u201cYou surely did, honey, you surely did. I\u2019ll never deny that you said she had pretty hair and eyes.\u201d\n\nAs Flopsy, Alice and Babbie left the meeting together, Flopsy couldn\u2019t understand her own feelings. She was very happy, yet she had a strange choked up feeling. Her heart was filled to overflowing with gratitude for Babbie's stout support and pride in her friend's fine sense of fair play and loyalty. She couldn\u2019t\"\nAlice felt she would surely cry. She knew it was Babbie who had made the afternoon's ending so different from what it might have been. But Alice was proud of her contribution toward the happy conclusion. She had offered a practical, sensible, and fair suggestion, and the girls had accepted it enthusiastically. For the first time since Alice had known Fleurette, she felt a warm feeling of friendship for her. She had done Fleurette a real service. Alice knew how deeply Fleurette had been hurt and humiliated by being \"left out,\" and she secretly hoped that some day Fleurette would learn that she had helped her get into the sorority. But she realized that no one could ever tell her this without telling the rest of the story. Alice was basking in the happiness.\nA nice, warm feeling of having done the fair and generous thing. In a way, she had not done it for Fleurette, but for Flopsy. She had been dismayed at Joan's cool suggestion that Flopsy drop out of the sorority. Alice had squabbled with Flopsy often, but they had been friends since they were babies, and Flopsy was not to be tossed aside for a girl like Joan Bassett.\n\nBabbie had been stunned and bewildered at first, then disgusted to the very depth of her being. She had never dreamed, not even in a nightmare, that girls could act like that! Babbie had no idea that she had done anything. She did not realize that they considered her important. She felt that the change had come only because of Flopsy's warm, passionate loyalty to a friend.\n\n\"You know,\" Flopsy spoke slowly, \"you know, I alone...\"\n\"Oh, no, it was Joan keeping Fleurette out. Rosemary and Joan had fights about Fleurette. Rosemary only calls people pet names because her sister Cynthia uses them when she comes home from a southern college. It's just a habit. I'm glad it was Joan and not Rosemary keeping Fleurette out. I was just about thinking sororities were stupid and mean. I'd rather have joined the glee club or one of the other clubs.\"\nBabbie said quietly, \"I'm going to join the Spanish Club.\" Flopsy and Alice exchanged alarmed looks. \"Oh, Babbie, didn't you think the girls were wonderful in the end? I bet they give Fleurette the best initiation they ever gave anyone, and Fleurette will simply love it! I am looking forward to it \u2014\" Flopsy's voice broke. The whole afternoon had stirred her up, let her down, and stirred her up again. She was exhausted. \"Oh, Flopsy!\" Babbie put her hand on her arm. \"Do you suppose I'd run out on you? Never, never! You were such a wonderful friend today that I was proud of you. I knew you'd be like that! I knew it! It was just like you. And I want the fun of giving Fleurette a good time, too.\" Flopsy turned her head away. Alice glimpsed her face and put her fingers to her lips in a silent whisper.\nAlice warned Babbie that she should not say any more. Flopsy's eyes brimmed with tears.\n\n\"It's too bad we can't tell Fleurette right away,\" Alice put in crisply. \"But we'll have to have another meeting, so that everything is planned right. Oh, I do want to be with Flopsy when she asks Fleurette. I want Fleurette to know how much I want her too.\"\n\n\"I think that would be a wonderful idea,\" Babbie agreed eagerly. \"Let's invite her. Fleurette would like a little crowd asking her, especially after having been left out so long. And let's have her 'pledged' for a few weeks, and make a fuss over her all that time.\"\n\nIn alarm, the two girls saw Flopsy searching blindly for a handkerchief in her pockets and purse. Babbie dug down into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief for her.\nAlice spoke quickly. \"Don't you think it's time we knew about Janet's party? No one has heard a word from her since she went back to school after Christmas. Wouldn't it be awful if she changed her mind?\"\n\nBabbie commented, \"I'd be disappointed myself. I've never been to a real party in my whole life, not even a little one, where there were boys and girls. You know I wasn't at the graduation party because it was just before graduation night, no one knew I was graduating until the night I received my diploma.\"\n\n\"You haven't heard from Janet lately?\" Alice dared to ask Flopsy, hoping to shift the conversation.\n\"No, I haven't received an answer to my last letter from her. Flopsy's voice was still suspiciously husky. \"The suspense is terrible!\" Alice wailed with an exaggerated sigh, \"I wonder what boys she'll ask out? This had been a source of concern for Alice, who always found it difficult to hold the attention of strange boys. She was never able to say bright and witty things they seemed to like. She also admitted - only to herself - that she wasn't beautiful! \"Oh, I don't care who she asks,\" Babbie returned with a little laugh, \"I don't know any of them very well. What I want is to be there! I want to see all the pretty dresses and dance to lovely music. I just want to go to a party, and I don't care very much about the boys one way or the other. But one must have them at a dance, or it wouldn't be a dance,\" she added, practically.\"\nBabbie and Alice walked as far as Flopsy's front lawn with her and then left her abruptly. They both sensed that she was still close to tears. Mrs. Moore's face was very thoughtful that night as she listened to the story of the meeting. Flopsy's voice had broken several times, and finally, she had given way completely to pent-up tears.\n\n\"It has all turned out so much better than I ever dared hope it would,\" Mrs. Moore said slowly. \"Girls can be pretty cruel to each other. And they can be pretty ruthless in their snobbery. I don't think any D.S.D. or A.C. is worth the heartaches it may cause, but in this instance, I feel that you have conquered a painful situation, and that you will have some real fun out of it. And I am happy! Now Fleurette won't have to remember all her life that she was slighted and forgotten.\"\nFlopsy was snubbed by her small circle of friends. A week later, she received a letter from Janet Dudley. In breathless haste, she tore the envelope to pieces to discover its news.\n\nTitle: Babbie to the Rescue (Chapter 235)\n\nHer eyes widened with alarm as she read Janet's first paragraph.\n\n\"Dearest Flopsy,\n\nAm I disgusted? Am I disappointed? Am I mad? Am I raving? I will say I am!\"\n\nFlopsy's heart sank. She read the entire letter with a leaden feeling. Janet's mother was going to Bermuda to recover from pneumonia, so the dance was off \u2013 absolutely and positively \u2013 as Janet couldn't have it without her mother. Mrs. Dudley wouldn't hear of such a thing. Janet had been too disgusted to write a long letter.\nFlopsy sat for a long time staring into space, then she walked slowly to the telephone. She had to pass on this wretched, miserable, disgusting news. She called Alice.\n\n\"Isn't that awful?\" Alice wailed. \"I've counted on it, and counted on it.\"\n\n\"And I've had so much fun just imagining it. I have the worst luck, the worst luck of anyone in the whole, wide world!\"\n\n\"Oh, she makes me tired talking about her debut. Nobody in this town ever had a debut. It's just silly.\" Alice's tone was irritable. \"That means 'coming out.' Coming out to what, I ask you?\"\n\nFlopsy agreed. \"It's goofy, it's nutty! How does she get that way? And I don't see why Mrs. Dudley had to get pneumonia right at this time. I'll bet you a cookie, she imagined the doctor told her to go away. I think she likes being mean. I remember an\"\nFlopsy said darkly, \"I had an experience with her at Emerald Lake. You know what I bet? She's leaving so Janet can't give a party to any of the boys and girls in this town. She thinks this town is nothing. She doesn't like anyone here. I've heard people say it a thousand times!\" Alice's tone was sour.\n\n\"Why doesn't she move away?\" Flopsy snapped.\n\n\"I'll telephone Babbie now. I'm so sorry for her. I'm sorrier for her than myself, because Babbie never has been to a real dance.\" Flopsy completely forgot that she hadn't either.\n\nBabbie was disappointed, very disappointed. \"I had so much fun thinking about it. I was going to ask for a dress and slippers for my birthday. It's in three weeks \u2013 the 20th of March. Well, it's too bad.\"\n\nMrs. Moore ridiculed Flopsy's wrath at Mrs. Dudley. \"After all, my dear, she didn't get pneumonia just to prevent a party.\"\nFlopsy didn't like Mrs. Dudley, especially after an incident at Emerald Lake. Mrs. Dudley had made Flopsy feel foolish by serving her bouillon instead of coffee. The girls were disappointed when Janet defected and talked about it for days. One afternoon, as Flopsy came in from school, the telephone rang. She loved the sound of its bell and always rushed to answer it, feeling cheated when she had to make a call. \"Mother! It's for you.\"\n\"A strangely sweet and familiar voice asked, \"Hello, is that you Flopsy?\"\n\"Yes, yes, this is Flopsy.\" Her heart beat faster. The voice did not belong to one of her friends. \"This is Miss Hilton to you, but to anyone else, Mrs. Stewart,\" the voice identified itself. \"Oh, Miss Hilton? How are you? How is the baby?\" \"He is wonderful! You've been neglecting him for weeks, and his feelings are hurt. Flopsy, I must speak very rapidly. I've something on my mind, and I want your help. Babbie isn't here right now, but she may come back soon, so I must hurry. We have noticed, David and I, how disappointed she has been about this party. We had never realized that the poor child has never been to one, and we've decided to give her a party of her own. In a way, it's to be a birthday party for both of you. Your birthday is the 22nd of April.\"\"\nWe will have it halfway between yours and Babbie's during the Easter holidays. It's to be at the Country Club, and we'll have the best orchestra we can get! We're planning on fifteen or twenty couples. This is to be a secret from Babbie until we tell her in the afternoon of that day. We can't have one of those surprise parties with everyone appearing out of the darkness shouting, \u201cSurprise.\u201d Something like that would scare the wits out of the child and spoil her fun for the rest of the evening. Have you understood everything I've said because I've talked so fast?\n\nFor a moment, Flopsy felt as though this were going to be like a dream in which she'd tried to scream and not even a squeak would come out. She moistened her lips and took a long, deep breath.\n\n\"I heard every word. Every last word. It's wonderful.\"\nHer voice sang out, \"It's wonderful - it's beautiful - it's thrilling me to my toes!\" Flopsy was relieved to find she still had it.\n\n\"Come right over, now, if you can. Babbie's just sent a message that she won't be home until later. We can make a few plans. You might suggest some names for me.\"\n\nAn hour later, Mrs. Moore walked into the house and heard a strange noise. It was the telephone! The receiver was off the hook, and central was frantically trying to attract someone's attention.\n\nShe picked up the receiver, hung it on the hook, and looked around.\n\n\"What in the world did Flopsy hear that sent her flying out of the house and made her leave the receiver off the hook? I wonder?\"\n\nChapter Ten\nFlopsy's First Evening Gown\nBABBIE'S party was to be on the 6th of April, just about half way between her birthday, the 2nd of March.\nThe 20th of March and Flopsy's was on the 22nd of April. Never, during Flopsy's whole life of almost fifteen years, had she felt as important as she did during these weeks. She was consulted about everything. The entire list of guests was more or less her responsibility, as Molly Hilton Stewart had only a few suggestions to make.\n\n\"We must ask Judith Weinstein because Babbie is very fond of her. And some of David's friends have sons that he would like us to invite,\" Mrs. Stewart said, with a smile. \"It might add to the spice and excitement of the evening. Some of the older girls might like a college boy or two.\"\n\nFlopsy's eyes opened wide. \"Would they like to come to a party for a girl almost fifteen? Of course,\" she went on hurriedly, \"Babbie will be just over fifteen.\"\n\"Molly Stewart grinned and said, \"They might! I shouldn't be surprised. Remember, Rosemary and some other girls in your sorority are sixteen or seventeen. We will ask them anyway.\"\n\n\"Almost Fifteen,\" Molly continued. \"I suppose they will think that Babbie and I are just babies. But we'll have boys enough of our own. Isn't it funny that only a year ago last summer, I was wishing and wishing to be fifteen? Now that I am almost there, I wish I were seventeen. I'm sure that when I get to be seventeen, I'll think it's the most perfect age of all, and I'll want to stay there the rest of my life!\"\n\n\"But you won't be able to, any more than at the moment you can be seventeen,\" Molly added.\n\nThis conversation took place in the Moore's living room, where Molly Stewart dropped in quite often these days for consultations. Babbie had no idea what was going on.\"\nFor the past week, Fleurette had been plledged. Alice, Flopsy, and Babbie had asked her on the way to school one morning if she would become their sorority sister and a member of the Alpha Gamma. Fleurette's face had gone white at first. She was puzzled and confused.\n\n\"Alpha Gamma!\" she repeated blankly. Those were not the mocking letters she had been taunted with for several months.\n\n\"Oh, the Delta Sigma Delta just blew up,\" Flopsy explained eagerly. \"In fact, the boys blew it up, though we hate to admit it. And when you're a real Alpha Gamma, we'll tell you the whole story. We are now Alpha Gammas.\"\nFleurette looked from one face to another. Tears came to her eyes, and then, suddenly, her face was radiant. The sun blazed through the mist, and with a choking laugh of pure joy, she asked, \"It's not the first of April yet?\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Babbie protested. \"We really want you in the sorority. We are really asking you. You wait and see if Rosemary Brewster doesn't speak to you about it later in the day.\"\n\n\"Rosemary Brewster!\" Fleurette's color rushed to the roots of her hair. She stared at Flopsy, a direct question in her eyes. Rosemary Brewster? Could it be possible?\n\nFlopsy looked equally embarrassed, as she earnestly said, \"Yes, Rosemary Brewster. She is our president, and she very much wants you in our sorority. Honestly, Fleurette.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, she does,\" Babbie added.\nAlice said, \"Rosemary can be a good friend. You'll understand one day. Be nice to Rosemary when she asks you. Alice was insistent about this.\n\nA hint of radiance faded from Fleurette's face. She was trying to suppress a painful memory that Rosemary's name evoked. Babbie had squeezed Alice's arm and shook her head, warning Fleurette never to discover the truth about Joan Bassett. Never! Babbie believed Alice would have wanted to reveal the whole story, as she wanted recognition for her role in resolving the conflict.\n\nDespite feeling warmer towards Fleurette than ever before, Alice harbored a lingering feeling. She wanted to give Fleurette just one last dig. But she saw that she would have Babbie to deal with instead. (Almost Fifteen - 242)\nFleurette had looked at Flopsy, feeling happy, proud, and almost completely satisfied. But why had Flopsy told her of Rosemary's criticism?\n\n\"I thought Flopsy said that Rosemary didn't like me,\" Fleurette said.\n\n\"Listen, Fleurette! Listen!\" Flopsy insisted. \"Rosemary did like you, but some girl who had only spoken to you once or twice caused the trouble. Rosemary said you had pretty eyes and pretty hair, don't you remember? I thought it was Rosemary, but it wasn't!\" Flopsy left no doubt of her intense eagerness as she spoke.\n\n\"Who is that girl?\" Fleurette asked slowly.\n\n\"She graduated!\" Babbie lied gallantly. \"In fact, she hadn't been a member for a long time. You'd feel proud if you knew what wonderful friends you have right now in the Alpha Gamma. And the best friend you ever had in your whole life is Flopsy. And Babbie and I are nearly as good,\" Alice added.\nPut it. \"Believe me!\" Fleurette had been easy to convince. She wanted to believe all this. It made her supremely happy. And when Rosemary spoke to her, she was treading on air. Fleurette thought Rosemary was wonderful, and would never again feel humiliation at the sound of her name. But secretly, she hoped she would bite her tongue off if she ever said, \"I done it,\" or \"I seen it,\" before these sorority sisters.\n\nThe girls were making extraordinary efforts these days to give Fleurette a good time. And Fleurette reveled in all the stunts they ordered her to do. Another girl was to be initiated with her immediately after Easter holidays, but for the present, Fleurette received the girls\u2019 undivided attention.\n\nMolly Stewart had insisted that Babbie\u2019s dance was not to be a sorority dance. And Flopsy could see what she meant.\nShe meant some girls not in the sorority were to be invited: Judith, Mary Howard, Dottie Green, and Janet Dudley. Flopsy and Alice had decided she must be invited, as she had invited them to her party. It wasn't her fault her mother believed she was sick enough to go away and leave Janet behind.\n\nWhen Flopsy entered her room these nights to do her homework, she put on the hostess gown and rustled and floated around the room to a dance orchestra on the radio. Sometimes she pretended she was dancing with Wilton Locke, and sometimes with Milton Brooks. The most exciting and thrilling daydream was that she was dancing with a strange, fascinating boy who was a sophomore at Yale. She never once pretended to be dancing with Bill Forbes, though he had more than once asked her.\nShe would have to dance with him, as it was taken for granted. There was no sense in wasting a lovely make-believe dance on him! As she did her French translation, she often stopped to go over her list of guests. It was perfect, beyond all of her most radiant dreams. This was better than if Janet had given the party. Flopsy would know almost everyone, except for those mysterious and thrilling young friends of David's. Janet would never have asked Wilton Locke or Bill Forbes or Fleurette. In fact, Janet's list would have omitted nearly all of her real friends.\n\nI was disappointed when I received Janet's letter. I had felt sunk! And now, I felt this was far, far better! And Janet couldn't look down on anything. David Stewart was going to see that Bab-\nBabbie's dance was perfect. No fifteen-year-old girl could attend a more lovely one or dance to the rhythm of a more modern orchestra. It was hard to keep Babbie in complete ignorance, as her friends wanted to talk of nothing else. Every day there was some kind of narrow escape. And after it, the near-villain went around saying \"Did I nearly make a break!\" Flopsy had the highest record for these.\n\nOne day she said before Babbie, \"I hear Bill Forbes bought a tuxedo. And am I thankful! Because all the boys \u2013\" and then Flopsy, with her hand over her mouth, stared at Babbie in horror. Babbie looked completely puzzled, but she was far more puzzled by the gesture and expression than by the words.\n\nAnother day, Flopsy exclaimed, \"Miss Hilton left a pretty pair of gloves at my house yesterday!\" \"What was Molly doing at your house? She didn't\"\n\"Babbie asked, \"Isn't that funny?\" Flopsy faltered, \"Didn't she tell you? She was just passing and thought she'd stop in.\" The worst episode was when Flopsy said, \"Janet wrote me a letter yesterday. And she is thrilled! She says it's going to make up for her disappointment. She's getting a new evening dress, a beautiful one \u2014\". \"What for? And why?\" Babbie asked, puzzled. Flopsy's First Evening Gown 245. \"What are you talking about? You've all been saying the funniest things lately. Is there a secret?\" \"Oh -- Oh!\" Flopsy gasped. \"This is terrible. This is the worst yet! I think she's going to another big dance during Easter week. But I'm really not sure what she meant.\" Babbie shook her head, unsure of what it was all about. Was something going on she didn't know about?\"\nMrs. Moore asked Flopsy to try on her bridesmaid dress one Saturday morning, and Flopsy's heart sank. She was the picture of despair. Her mother couldn't ask her to wear that to Babbie's dance, could she? It was nearly two years old, and it was babyish. It had puffed sleeves and a high neck, and it was miles too short.\n\n\"Oh, mother!\" she wailed her protest, \"I can't wear it! It's too short \u2013 it's too short on me!\"\n\n\"Well, just try it on and see. Maybe I can do something with it. The material is so beautiful and the color is perfect on you!\"\n\nSo Flopsy, sulking, tried it on. Before letting her mother see it, she stood on a chair before her mirror and eyed her reflection with a deep frown of utter disgust. The dress was way above her ankles.\nShe didn't fit into the sleeves. She yanked up the skirt, making it look worse. Twisting the whole dress, she looked terrible. With grim satisfaction, she called her mother. No loving mother would ask her to wear this. She'd look like a girl in a funny movie or a baby, which was worse.\n\nMrs. Moore arrived at the door, followed by Mrs. Titmouse, who was intensely interested in the preparations.\n\n\"She looks grand,\" Mrs. Titmouse exclaimed. \"Just sweet.\"\n\nMrs. Moore stared at her daughter in dismay. Flopsy did not look grand, and she certainly did not look sweet. She had never looked less sweet in her life. She resembled a thunderstorm, a tornado, a hurricane, and a tidal wave, all rolled into one.\n\n\"Grand?\" Flopsy blazed. \"What's grand about it?\"\nI'd like to know. She squirmed, causing the dress to hang in as unbe becoming a fold as possible. She hunched up her shoulders, making it an inch shorter.\n\n\"I wonder if we could let down some of the ruffles?\" Mrs. Moore hesitated. \"We might cut\u2014\"\n\n\"Cut it up into pieces!\" Flopsy choked.\n\nMr. Moore was leaving for business later than usual. Now he stuck his head into the room and looked at his daughter in swift discernment.\n\n\"What has given you that bright and cheery countenance?\" he asked innocently. \"I'm only fooling, my child. Your expression is not bright and cheery. It is well that your small brothers aren't here to see you at this moment, for you'd give them nightmares for months to come.\"\n\n\"It's this old dress. It's all wrong. I wanted a new one for Babbie's dance,\" she complained stormily.\nMrs. Moore admitted, \"It doesn't look quite right, in fact, it doesn't look right at all.\"\n\nFlopsy's First Evening Gown - 247\nMr. Moore reached into his pocket and pulled out a billfold. \"Any father must expect to make a sacrifice for his almost fifteen-year-old daughter, his only daughter. I'll contribute to a fund for a new dress. I'll go without my lunch for a week.\" He placed a couple of dollar bills on Flopsy's desk. It was his favorite little joke. He was always \"going without lunch,\" to buy this or that for his wife, children, or home. \"We can't risk having her go off to the dance with that expression. She might curdle the lemonade.\"\n\nMrs. Moore laughed. She had very little hope that this dress would do. \"That will help. And I'll do without a new row of dahlias I was planning for the garden.\" Her eyes were twinkling.\nMr. Moore expanded, \"And here's another dollar! I'll do without my lunch for another week. And I won't buy those seeds I planned for that small garden near the garage.\" He turned his pockets inside out and scattered coins over his bills. \"Well, I do declare!\" exclaimed Mrs. Titmouse. \"She's a mighty lucky girl, I'm telling everybody. And spoiled, if you ask me.\" But no one had asked her, and no one cared at the moment.\n\nFlopsy flew through the air with the greatest of ease and landed in her father's arms, then her mother's. They were waiting for her, those two pairs of arms. \"I'm so happy, I could cry \u2014\" and she did.\n\n\"I hope that some day, some kind and considerate person will explain slowly and carefully to me, why my daughter always cries when she is supremely happy.\" (Flower Girl by Bret Harte, 1870)\nI can't quite understand. But Mr. Moore's expression belied his words. He felt very pleased with himself, and his own eyes and his wife's were a little bit misty. Both were looking forward to this party almost as much as Flopsy. Her ardor and her wild excitement were extremely contagious. No one near could escape being infected with it.\n\n\"Tell me, Flopsy, should I take out insurance on you or a raincheck, or what should I do to guard myself against a heavy financial loss? You may decide, at the last moment, to knock over a telegraph pole with your nose, or knock out a few teeth. I don't think you'll try for another black eye, but you might discover a way to destroy your 'beauty.' \" His tongue was in his cheek.\nMr. Moore winked at his wife as they reached the last word. \"We must do something, your mother and I, to guard our investment in this new dress.\"\n\n\"Oh, daddy, I can't go sleigh riding now. It's spring. Please don't worry!\"\n\n\"Don't worry, eh?\" Mr. Moore shook his head. \"You say that very lightly and glibly, my darling. It might deceive someone who did not know you. You have no idea how resourceful you are when it comes to putting an accident through to a lurid conclusion.\"\n\nWhether it's winter, summer, spring or fall, doesn't hinder you one bit!\"\n\nThat very afternoon, Mrs. Moore took her daughter to the city to buy her new dress. Flopsy was wriggling with ecstasy. Her first real, party frock! Her first evening dress! Mrs. Moore was driving the family car.\n\n\"Now listen, Flopsy, unless you keep perfectly still.\"\nfor a few minutes, your father\u2019s fantastic prophecy about knocking over a telephone pole will become a horrifying reality. I can\u2019t keep my mind on my driving if you chatter incessantly, and you know I\u2019m not the world's most experienced driver. Just at that second, a car turned out of a side street unexpectedly, and Mrs. Moore put her foot down on the brakes, turned the wheel, and skidded toward a telegraph pole!\n\n\"There now!\" Mrs. Moore exclaimed, her face white with fear. But Flopsy was several shades whiter. Wouldn't it have been terrible? She never opened her mouth again during the balance of the trip, nor breathed easily again until they were out of the car. She couldn\u2019t, simply couldn\u2019t, be cheated out of this dance!\n\nThe dress they bought, so beautiful, so lovely, and so perfect that Flopsy was smothered into speechlessness.\nThe exquisite dress was an exquisite shade of aquamarine blue. It was made of mousseline de soie and floated about her as she walked. But above all, it came right down to the floor! At the waist of this creation was a cluster of pale yellow daisies.\n\n\"It's a beautiful dress!\" Flopsy gurgled on the way home. That was all she could say, for then she went off into a blissful state of seraphic daydreaming.\n\nOn the afternoon of the breathlessly awaited dance, the telephone rang every few minutes. It was Alice, it was Fleurette, it was Rosemary, it was Molly Stewart, it was almost everyone that Flopsy had ever heard of! But, at last, it was Babbie herself. Her voice sounded so excited that at first Flopsy could scarcely understand her. But the gist of it was that she knew everything now. And at last, Flopsy understood the reason for the secret preparations.\n\"Everyone stopped in the middle of whatever they were saying as soon as she approached, finding it all very confusing.\n\n\"Oh, Flopsy! My mother's here. She came last night. From Rawhide,\" Flopsy exclaimed, knowing how much this meant to Babbie. Mrs. Hilton, due to business, had not been able to come East with Babbie for Christmas. \"And, Flopsy, just wait until you hear! I just went up to my bedroom, and can you guess what was lying on the bed? Please guess!\"\n\n\"Oh, I give up!\" Flopsy grumbled in her excitement. She would always hate \"guessing.\" She wanted to know, and right away.\n\n\"A dress! The loveliest, prettiest, most beautiful dress you ever saw. It's white net and it floats,\" Babbie revealed.\n\n\"Not like soap?\" Flopsy inquired.\"\n\"Babbie teased, \"Don't be a goose! It's the prettiest, loveliest, most beautiful dress you've ever seen! And it's white and it floats.\" Flopsy repeated, and both girls giggled. \"I know everything. I know about the dance. I know why you've all been silly and funny lately. And, Flopsy, my dress touches the ground. You can't see my feet. And so does yours! I keep saying that, and daddy makes fun of me. He can't see why I want to hide my feet at a dance. He says they're important. And now, the boys will only know I have them when I squeal when they step on them!\" \"I can't go on talking, even if I'd love to,\" Molly interjected. Flopsy's First Evening Gown, p. 251.\nI should rest now. She is right beside me, reminding me to be at the club before anyone else comes for my birthday party. I must help receive the guests. At last, the moment of enchantment arrived - the joy and excitement of dressing for my first dance. It is a moment of intense and delicate joy, beyond words. Flopsy never stopped chattering and chirping like a bird. \"Oh, those flowers! The club is beautiful! It's gorgeous! Wasn't that exciting about Milton? He wants me to save a lot of dances. Aren't my evenings...\"\nI'm going to the event with my gorgeous sandals. I won't need rouge, my cheeks are pink. The orchestra will play until one o'clock. Alice's dress is peach-colored, not actually a peach. Janet has a beautiful evening wrap, but mine's cute. I'll brush my hair until it shines. I'm glad I can have light pink polish on my nails. I hope no one notices I broke one last week. They say Janet uses lipstick. The table on which the supper will be served is marvelous. You should see the silver candlesticks. I've never seen so many flowers. We are going to have favors. What do you think? Old man Bates is going to be there? You remember he used to be president of the Board of Education and scared us when we were at Number Nine. I mean Mr. Bates, of course. Of course.\nI meant to say Mr. - he's David's uncle - and he adores dances, especially for youngsters. I wonder how Bill will look in a 'tux'? Won't Babbie be thrilled when she sees Judith? I know I shall get dances with those college boys, for it's my party too. I wonder if Janet will try to get Milton back again, she used to like him at Number Nine. Fleurette's dress is the sweetest rose color. Daddy was fooled. I didn't get a black eye or break my nose.\n\nShe was chirping bird-like most of the time, but at times she was more reminiscent of Tennyson's babbling brook. For men might come and men might go, but Flopsy, on that evening of her first dance, could go on forever.\n\nMrs. Titmouse had asked if she could see Flopsy in her first party dress, and so had the Moore's neighbors, a childless couple, Mr. and Mrs. Randall.\nFlopsy could hear them all talking and laughing downstairs. They were waiting for her. Her heart was beating out the rhythm of a bright and lilting song. She took one last loving look at her own reflection. Her lips were parted breathlessly. She couldn't quite believe - she couldn't believe that this radiant creature was just everyday Flopsy Moore. But it was, it must be! Her mirror was telling a beautiful truth, and she could hardly wait now to show it to the audience waiting for Flopsy's First Evening Gown. She flew out of her door and halfway down the stairs, but just before she reached the turn, she stopped short on the landing. Daintily holding up her long skirts, she descended the stairs with gracious dignity. She was now in full view of her waiting audience. Once\nShe had seen a fashion show in a department store and recalled how the mannequins held their heads and arms. With great charm and grace, she walked into the living room's center and posed. \"How do I look?\" she asked.\n\n\"Oh, you're beautiful, you're grand. You'll be the belle of the ball,\" Mrs. Titmouse exclaimed.\n\nThe others could scarcely find words to express their admiration.\n\n\"Won't you get tired, Flopsy?\"\n\n\"Tired?\" Flopsy blankly echoed her father's query, but she had not changed her pose.\n\n\"Tired, holding your arms like that all evening? It would never do to get cramps in them,\" but his eyes denied any implied concern for her well-being. He was quite overcome with pride. Nothing could mar the perfection of this evening ahead of his lovely daughter.\nShe dropped her arms and looked eagerly from face to face. They thought she looked lovely. Oh, they did! Mrs. Moore gathered her daughter in her arms. \"You are very, very sweet, my darling. Just everything that an almost fifteen-year-old girl should be. You are going to have a beautiful evening.\" Her eyes were misty, and her voice had a little catch in it.\n\nMr. Moore looked from Mr. Randall to Mrs. Randall. \"Come! Come!\" his eyes were saying, \"tell us that you think we have a very beautiful little daughter.\" Mrs. Randall wiped one finger across her cheek. Did you believe it, Mr. Moore thought, she's wiping away a tear? She turned her face towards her husband. \"She's quite too lovely for words. And she brings one back \u2014\" She broke off and her voice, too, had a catch in it.\n\nThe doorbell rang. Flopsy flew to open it.\nBill mustn't keep Bill waiting. He had to see her at once. Bill just looked at her and then kept his eyes on the others. He mustn't let them see he was quite overcome by Flopsy's radiant loveliness. Bill was quite proud of himself. He felt he was a suitable partner for any girl tonight. His hair was beautifully groomed for the first time in his life. His parents had told him just before he left that he looked, if not handsome (and who wanted to be a pretty boy?), at least very good-looking, and every inch a gentleman! It had taken both his parents to get him into his first tuxedo. He did not feel humble before Flopsy's beauty, only a little self-conscious. He must not let anyone see just how satisfied he felt with his own appearance. Only girls could expect compliments! He pulled off his white scarf and slipped off his topcoat.\nMr. Moore grinned, looking from one to the other. \"Not a bad-looking pair!\" he said, proudly. \"And I hear an important one - the president and vice president of the Sophomore class of Alexander Hamilton High School. What do you think of that, Mrs. Randall?\"\n\nBill took Flopsy's little evening wrap and helped her into it. His voice sounded strange in her ears. He hadn't felt natural and quite himself after seeing himself in the mirror.\n\n\"We've got to get going,\" he said. \"Mr. Stewart's chauffeur is waiting for us outside. We have to get there first.\"\n\nFlopsy had forgotten that her parents were to be at the country club later. After all, this party was in their daughter's honor, and they had to meet her guests. It would be a sight they would not want to miss.\n\"Just as Flopsy had kissed them each goodbye for the third time, she begged eagerly: \"Try to be awake when I get home. I want to tell you all about it before I go to sleep.\" \"Oh, my darling. Of course, of course, I shall be waiting! And breathlessly. It will be the sweetest story I have ever heard.\"\"", "source_dataset": "Internet_Archive", "source_dataset_detailed": "Internet_Archive_LibOfCong"},
{"language": "eng", "scanningcenter": "capitolhill", "sponsor": "The Library of Congress", "contributor": "The Library of Congress", "date": "1938", "title": "And both were young", "creator": "Lambert, Reita", "lccn": "38008699", "collection": ["library_of_congress", "fedlink", "americana"], "shiptracking": "ST010819", "partner_shiptracking": "IAGC145", "call_number": "7370839", "identifier_bib": "0001966787A", "lc_call_number": "PZ3.L174 An", "possible-copyright-status": "The Library of Congress is unaware of any copyright restrictions for this item.", "note": "If you have a question or comment about this digitized item from the collections of the Library of Congress, please use the Library of Congress \u201cAsk a Librarian\u201d form: <a href=\"https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html\">https://www.loc.gov/rr/askalib/ask-internetarchive.html</a>", "publisher": "Boston, New York, Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Company", "description": "4 p. l., 3-297 p. 21 cm", "mediatype": "texts", "repub_state": "19", "page-progression": "lr", "publicdate": "2019-04-04 12:13:57", "updatedate": "2019-04-04 13:16:38", "updater": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "identifier": "andbothwereyoung00lamb", "uploader": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "addeddate": "2019-04-04 13:16:40", "operator": "associate-richard-greydanus@archive.org", "tts_version": "2.1-final-2-gcbbe5f4", "camera": "Sony Alpha-A6300 (Control)", "scanner": "scribe2.capitolhill.archive.org", "imagecount": "314", "scandate": "20190409124653", "ppi": "300", "republisher_operator": "associate-leah-mabaga@archive.org", "republisher_date": "20190411165315", "republisher_time": "610", "foldoutcount": "0", "identifier-access": "http://archive.org/details/andbothwereyoung00lamb", "identifier-ark": "ark:/13960/t71w33c09", "openlibrary_edition": "OL6368043M", "openlibrary_work": "OL7577297W", "scanfee": "300;10.7;214", "invoice": "36", "curation": "[curator]associate-manuel-dennis@archive.org[/curator][date]20190508172710[/date][state]approved[/state][comment]invoice201904[/comment]", "sponsordate": "20190430", "additional-copyright-note": "No known restrictions; no copyright renewal found.", "external-identifier": "urn:oclc:record:1156173210", "backup_location": "ia906901_3", "oclc-id": "34582194", "ocr_module_version": "0.0.21", "ocr_converted": "abbyy-to-hocr 1.1.37", "page_number_confidence": "95", "page_number_module_version": "1.0.3", "creation_year": 1938, "content": "Book _ _ XZ4-\nrmjjyriglrfki0 ft. A\nCOFright Deposit.\nBy Reita Lambert:\nLines to a Lady\nThe Noble Art\nThey Who Have\nAnd Both Were Young\nLord Byron\nLothrop, Lee & Shepard Company\nBoston 1938 New York\nCopyright, 1938 Reita Lambert Nevin\nAll rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper.\nPrinted in the United States of America\nTo My Daughter Peggy\nHe thought that, in a world of human beings all conceived on the same plan, one could be so utterly, so miraculously, so divinely different. She was a medium-sized, sun-kissed young woman.\nA bronzed girl in the briefest white bathing suit and a white rubber cap chased after a bouncing rubber sphere, reaching Judd and Cliff before anyone else. Flushed and breathless, she hugged the ball against her slender waist and acknowledged Cliff's introduction to his friend and college mate, Judd Harcott.\n\n\"She is young,\" Cliff said kindly. \"But the little girl has possibilities.\"\n\nShe was, as Cliff said, young. Her gray-green eyes were framed by lashes that curled up and back like a child's. Her short nose was in the process of peeling, and her smile was frank and sweet as a child's. But her real \"difference\" lay in some vibrant quality of her spirit. She reminded Judd of a runner poised on tiptoe, waiting for the signal.\n\nFour and Both Were Young.\n\"What did Cliff say your name was?\" he asked.\n\"Lora- without the U. Just Lora.\" she replied. He nodded, smiling, his eyes not moving from hers. \"I've never known a Lora without the U before,\" he said.\nThen Cliff appeared with other girls and surrounded the newcomer, chattering, inspecting, approving. \"Here's the new man- isn't he lovely! Darling, he's almost too beautiful- are you sure he has a nice disposition? Well, his mother told us he was wonderful.\"\nFor Judd's mother and father had already been in Forks Harbor for over a month. It was due to Cliff Sidney- whose family had been coming to the Harbor since before he was born- that they had deserted their Adirondack camp. Cliff and Judd had become inseparable friends during their three years at college, they planned to make a life together.\nThe \"grand tour\" of Europe together after their graduation next June, Cliff had wanted to show Judd off to his Forks Harbor friends. So, the Harcotts had taken the Herris cottage. Judd had blandly informed them that he and Cliff had decided to take a bit of a cruise in Cliff's thirty-foot cruiser and would join them later at the Harbor. This had dismayed his parents, but it gave Mrs. Harcott a month to prepare for the advent of her only son. Thus, while Forks Harbor listened to accounts of Judd's superior endowments\u2014mental, physical, and spiritual\u2014Judd himself was cruising lazily along the coast, wearing a pair of disreputable duck pants and nothing else, shaving once a week, adding to his repertoire of mildly risque stories, and in general giving his mother the lie.\n\nFive young people: And Both Were Young\nBut now those paradisaic days were over. Clean and brown and hard as a rain-washed boulder, he faced his inquisitors on Forks Harbor Beach. He posed and flexed his muscles and gravely catalogued his qualifications as an applicant to that exclusive summer colony. The morning contingent of old ladies, knitting and sewing on the rocks in the background, surveyed the scene with horror and drew the customary unflattering comparisons between the youth of their own day and these modern savages. Lora did not take part in the inquisition. She stood on the edge of the group, her eyes lively, her mouth still smiling. But she and Judd were conscious of each other, already in secret communication. He knew, when she turned and strolled down the beach, that she knew he was thinking of her, that he would follow her. And, fifteen minutes later, they were together.\nsitting next to each other on the raft, the July sun harmlessly beating on their tanned bodies. Lora had taken off her cap and Judd realized her hair would be like this\u2014thick, curly, short, and the shade of pale amber. A little darker and she'd have been a strawberry blonde, he thought.\n\nShe said, \"I believe you deliberately waited until the summer was half over so you could make a dramatic entrance.\"\n\n\"Well, I got a pretty good hand, didn't I?\" he said.\n\n\"That was just the claque,\" she said. \"Your mother has been building you up since she came\u2014 'My son Judd!'\u2014 in capitals.\"\n\n\"That's going to be pretty hard to live down,\" he said.\n\n\"Well, you're the first new family we've had at the Harbor for five years,\" she said. \"The first new one that's had any eligible males to offer.\"\nShe leaned back, resting her weight on spread palms. \"This should be a help.\" And physically, you're the answer to every girl's prayer. \"To mine?\" \"I should say so!\" \"Good. The formalities have been observed. Let's get down to business. Your last name, please - not that I expect to use it but it's necessary for the records.\" And Both Were Young\n\nHis brows went up. \"Paris! Like the city all good Americans go to die in?\" She nodded and he said, \"Okay. Age?\" \"Need you ask? Look at my white hairs. I'll be a sophomore in September.\" \"In college! Oh, well, we'll skip that. Color- lovely. Sex- absolutely. Tastes?\" \"Terrible,\" she said. \"I adore the funnies.\"\nLeslie Howard and chocolate ice cream. I hate gin and Dickens and cigarettes.\n\n\"Those are adolescent failings from which you will recover,\" he said. \"And now for the most important question of all\u2014 is there a man in your life?\"\n\nShe made her eyes big. \"I should hope so! I have a father and a brother\u2014\"\n\n\"Relatives don't count,\" he said sternly.\n\nShe laughed and inspected a small tear in her bathing cap. \"Oh. I see what you mean. Well, now, let me think\u2014\"\n\n\"Good! If the answer is no,\" he said.\n\nThis was the summer of nineteen-thirty-three. This was the regulation tone of the prelude to friendship between the young of that depraved era. Judd and Lora observed the rules as a matter of course, but underneath the mock solemn interchange, an older, subtler contact had been established. It was nothering.\nAnd both were young. Lora, who had liked and played with boys all her life, found that this boy didn't fit into any of the emotional niches occupied by her other masculine friends. Judd, who had had his heart broken three separate times and then prudently locked up the pieces, discovered that it was whole again and beating strongly. He thought, justifying the wild flutter in his breast, \"Oh, well, I haven't seen a girl in six weeks\u2014as I still had another year of college ahead of me and an important job waiting when I had got my degree.\" But Lora, as was her habit, gave herself recklessly to that moment. In which suddenly the world seemed lovelier and life sweeter than they ever had before.\n\nWhen Judd and Cliff walked back along the beach.\nTo their lunch, Cliff said, \"The Paris child has unsuspected charms - I wouldn't recognize them because I've known her since I was four. But if you could spread yourself a little thinner, the other girls would appreciate it.\"\n\n\"Since you were four!\" Judd said, looking with new respect on his friend.\n\n\"That was the first summer her family came to the Harbor. Her mother used to let me roll her carriage on the beach sometimes as a very special favor,\" Cliff reminisced. \"Lordy, she was a red baby!\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nJudd didn't laugh. He said, \"Funny, mother mentioned about every one of those girls in her letters except Lora.\"\n\nCliff gave him a sidewise glance. \"Well, Lora's kind of on the small side - easy to overlook.\"\n\nBut these two were too close for an evasion to pass unnoticed. Judd knew at once that it was an evasion.\nHe said quickly, \"Don't be subtle. What's the matter with her, Judd?\"\n\n\"Not a thing\u2014 Lora's a great kid. Her folks are great too, but if your mother is particular about such things, she might object to the fact that Lora's father is a tailor. I don't mean he actually sits on a bench and sews things himself, and he has more money than most of his customers, but he's definitely a tradesman.\"\n\nJudd was no snob but this did startle him a little. \"A tailor!\"\n\n\"A very good tailor, too\u2014has a very swanky shop, George Paris. If you'd lived in New York, you'd know the name and he'd probably have made your first tux\u2014he still makes mine. As a matter of fact, he still makes dad's too.\"\n\nJudd thought of the tailor's daughter who, he thought, could easily have passed for the daughter of any proud crested prince. He recalled that\nShe had seemed an integral part of that gay group on the beach and said, \"Well, your family accepts her, don't they? They don't hold it against her that\u2014?\"\n\n\"Lord, no!\" Cliff said. \"It was dad who got them up here in the first place\u2014kind of sponsored them. We've played around together\u2014twenty or more of us\u2014all our lives, you might say.\" Then he added carelessly, \"In the summer, I mean.\"\n\nJudd looked at him. \"You mean you don't play around with her in town?\"\n\n\"Never happened to run into her.\"\n\n\"I see,\" Judd said coldly and quickened his steps. Cliff hurried after him. \"Don't be a damn fool! I didn't edit the Social Register and I don't make out people's invitation lists. If I don't happen to see Lora Paris in town, it's because she doesn't go there.\"\nAnd I suppose that's because her father's a tailor and mine's a Judge. I didn't arrange things that way, but there they are. There they were. And now Judd knew why his mother hadn't mentioned Lora in her letters. Mrs. Harcott was a little fussy about such things. But Mrs. Paris mentioned Judd to Lora. At lunch she said, \"Well, I understand the magnificent Judd Harcott has arrived at last. Is he a nice boy?\" \"He must be the world's eighth wonder,\" said young Hay Paris, in his raspy, almost fifteen-year-old voice. \"Listen, you ought to hear him tell about the time the Reckless ran into that tornado off Nassau and lost their mainsail and their food got all water-soaked and they didn't have enough to eat.\" And Both Were Young II. Mr. Paris who had heard about Mrs. Harcott's eulogies.\nThe young crowd accepted Judd as their parents had already accepted Judd's father and mother. This was a triumph, as the Harbor was not quick to accept newcomers. But the Harcotts ideally fulfilled the slightly finical exactions of the Summer Colony, which prided itself on being exclusive but not fast, well-to-do but not showy, conservative but not prudish. Most of the summer cottages at the Harbor had been owned and occupied by the same families for many years. Changes were invariably deplored, especially by the mothers of growing children. A good many Harborites considered the Harcotts.\nI could well remember the good-natured flurry Judge Sidney caused when he recommended the place to his New York tailor. But George Paris and his wife proved to be a gentle, likable couple, as particular about their children's morals and manners as the most fastidious among them.\n\nThe Harcotts were not like the Parises, of course. Mr. Harcott was a prosperous banker, his wife's family had been in the Boston Social Register for three generations. They were a little stand-offish, but that merely emphasized their eligibility. Judd was the right kind of young man. He swam, danced, and played tennis as well, but no better, than the other young men. He was handsome\u2014thick, ruddy brown hair, ruddy brown eyes, a straight, steely strong body\u2014but no handsomer than many mothers\u2019 sons.\nHe had an ingratiating way with old people and children and still managed to be popular with his contemporaries. Even before all these facts were apparent, Mrs. Paris had declared him a decided asset. She said as much to Mr. Paris at the Saturday night boat club dance on the evening of his arrival, \"I think Judd Harcott is going to be a decided asset.\"\n\n\"Lora appears to think so, too,\" Mr. Paris replied. At that moment, Lora and Judd were dancing together. His head was bent to hers, and she was looking up into his eyes, but they did not seem to be talking. Even as Mr. Paris watched them, they seemed, without words, to reach some decision. They stopped dancing and turned and went out through the open French window that gave on the porch.\n\nMrs. Paris said, \"She does, doesn't she? Well, I'm glad.\"\nLora and Judd sat on the porch steps. The porch borrowed a little light from the windows of the club and a little from the richly starred sky. It was a welcome change from the brightly lit ballroom.\n\n\"Nice,\" Lora said. \"Much better than dancing,\" though she loved to dance.\n\nJudd agreed. \"You bet. This is swell.\"\n\nBeyond the beach and the pier, the sea was black save for the riding lights of anchored boats and a circlet of more distant lights. Lora pointed to them. \"That's the Sweetmans' yacht out there.\"\n\n\"Must be some boat,\" Judd said.\n\n\"It's marvellous. They put in here every summer for a week or so. They're terribly rich.\"\n\nHe said, \"I'll bet they are,\" and then, in a lower voice, \"I've been looking forward to this all afternoon, Lora Paris.\"\n\n\"To seeing the Sweetmans' yacht?\"\n\"You know that's not what I mean.\" She laughed shyly, not looking at him. \"What do you mean?\" \"Well, if you just want to hear me say it, to see me again.\"\n\n\"And Both Were Young\"\n\nShe had wanted to hear him say it. Up to that point, they might have been two strangers meeting at a sick friend's bed. The easy camaraderie of that morning on the beach had gone with the sun. He had been startled to find how changed she was in her evening dress. It was a diaphanous affair of sea green chiffon and the long, trailing skirts made her seem taller, older, more slender. Her bright hair was brushed close to her head, held off her face by a wreath of tiny white rosebuds. Her lips were rouged and there was a film of powder on her sunburnt nose and cheeks.\n\nHe had looked different to Lora, too, in his white flannels and blue coat. She had told him so. \"I'd never have recognized you.\"\n\"hardly had I known you. \"Clothes do make a difference,\" he had said, and they had both tried to laugh. All afternoon, she had told herself, a kind of song, \"I'll see him tonight! I'll see him at the dance! I'll dance with him!\" And it had come about exactly as she had foreseen, except for this strangeness. What had happened to them so naturally and beautifully on the beach that morning made them shy of each other in the conventional atmosphere of evening dress and artificial lights and the calculated rhythm of dance music. But after they had sat for a few moments on the porch, talking a little, often silent, the strangeness lifted. The music drifted out to them, dissolved in the salty evening air. Now and then someone came to ask Lora to dance, but she said no, perhaps it was too warm.\"\nShe said suddenly to Judd, \"I was just thinking\u2014 it's almost August. Summer is nearly over.\" She had never thought that before, never thought that August meant summer was nearly over.\n\n\"And to think,\" he said, \"that I might have been here for a month.\"\n\nShe said simply, \"I wish you had been.\"\n\n\"So do I. If I'd known\u2014,\" he stopped and turned to look at her, \"if I'd known you were here, I would have been.\"\n\nShe drew a filmy chiffon handkerchief through her fingers. \"Well, we\u2014 you've still got a little over a month, really.\"\n\nHe said, \"I know a way you could help me make up for lost time.\"\n\n\"Tell me how.\"\n\n\"You'll think this has a fresh and nutty flavor,\" he said, grinning a little sheepishly, \"but if you'll give me the rest of the summer\u2014kind of take me on as a special chore\u2014\"\nHe stopped and she laughed. \"You're terribly rash. You'd probably get sick and tired of me.\"\n\n\"You know darn well I wouldn't,\" he replied.\n\n\"I don't know,\" she said, looking at him. The laughter went out of her face when she saw how gravely and intently his eyes were fixed upon her.\n\n\"You don't know either\u2014 how could you?\" he asked.\n\n\"Don't ask me. I just know. How about you?\" Lora didn't know how to answer that. She was suddenly frightened of the things they were not saying and, as suddenly, her fears were gone and the magic of the morning was back. Every familiar sight and sound took on a new, dazzling beauty, a new meaning. Her senses rang with the joy and wonder of it\u2014nothing like this had ever happened to her before, perhaps nothing like this would ever happen again.\nTo her again. And so she said, in a quick and breathless little voice, \"Well, I\u2014 I might risk it.\" And Judd said, \"Okay!\" and they smiled shakily at each other through the thin white light.\n\nIt was a hot August night and Mr. and Mrs. Paris were sitting on the side porch when the Harcotts drove in. Mrs. Paris was surprised. She had not expected the Harcotts to call. She had met them at the club, played in a bridge tournament with them, but she had not expected them to call. \"Why, I believe it's the Harcotts, dear,\" she said, and laid down her knitting and went to meet them.\n\nMrs. Harcott said, \"We were driving by and you looked so cool in here\u2014 our house isn't getting a vestige of this lovely breeze.\"\n\n\"Well, that's a break for us,\" George Paris said affably. \"Come and sit down. How about a drink? I've got some pretty fair Scotch.\"\nMr. Harcott declined the Scotch. \"I'm too fat to drink whiskey on a night like this.\"\n\n\"There's plenty of gingerale on the ice,\" Mrs. Paris said. \"You both will have some gingerale, I know.\" And, as she seated her guests, she said, \"It isn't often as warm as this at the Harbor.\"\n\n\"Now, now! Where have I heard that before?\" Mr. Harcott said, and they all laughed.\n\n\"And Both Were Young\"\n\nGeorge brought out the gingerale and a plate of sugar cookies. Soon the two men were smoking and talking politics. Neither was deeply interested in the subject but they had little else in common. Julia Paris and Mrs. Harcott were not much better off. Mrs. Harcott was a little heavy in build and manner, impeccably groomed and coiffed, an excellent talker. Julia, in spite of her youth, was quiet and introspective.\nJulia Paris was a contented woman, looking younger than her forty-eight years. Her hair was nearly white, but she had kept her slender figure, her cheeks pink, and her blue eyes bright and eager. Her interests were mainly domestic; she considered George the best husband and Lora and Hay the finest children in the world. Being a sensible woman, she was also a sensible mother. She had preached the gospel of simplicity and honesty to her children, and it was traceable that they were simple, honest children due to this and the fact that she herself practiced what she preached.\n\n\"One would never believe you were Lora's mother,\" Mrs. Harcott said now. \"Your daughter is eighteen and a half, isn't she?\"\n\n\"Yes, eighteen and a half,\" Julia replied.\n\n\"Still, she's just a little girl after all\u2014still in college, isn't she?\"\n\"Yes, she's at Lockwood. A sophomore next year. And we are both nineteen. 'My big boy has another year to go,' Mrs. Harcott said, sipping her gingerale. 'Yes, Lora told me,' Julia passed the cookies, took one herself. 'My husband and I think your Judd's a pretty fine boy.' Mrs. Harcott laughed. 'You've certainly had plenty of opportunity to observe him. It seems to me he's here more than he is at home.' 'We love having him. As a matter of fact, he's not really here much\u2014just while he's waiting for Lora to dress. She's at the pokey age, you know.' 'I see. They're out together tonight, aren't they?' 'Yes. They've gone to the movies, I think.' 'Well,' Mrs. Harcott said, 'as I was saying to Bailey this morning, we mustn't begrudge him his fun this summer. He'll have very little time to play during the next few years\u2014very little time for any pleasure.'\"\n\"His father will place him in our New York branch once he returns from Europe next fall. \"How nice!\" \"It won't be much of a position at first. Bailey believes every boy should carve out his own future, not have things made too soft for him. He'll pay Judd exactly what he would pay any other inexperienced beginner, which means he'll be practically a pauper for a few years. But a single man can manage on very little these days, and Judd isn't the type that marries early, thank goodness. These early marriages\u2014 I don't approve of them at all, do you? Disastrous in nine cases out of ten\u2014\"\nShe went quite cold with indignation and disgust. That's why the Harcotts had called - to warn them to call off Lora!\n\n\"I don't know what you call an early marriage,\" she said wickedly. \"I was married at nineteen.\" She smiled blandly on her guest. \"And it wasn't exactly disastrous!\"\n\n\"Oh, but everything was so utterly different then,\" Mrs. Harcott said, suave and light. \"Young people were so much more responsible and grown up in our day, don't you think?\"\n\n\"Good gracious, no! I think we were dreadful little saps - if you'll forgive the word - repressed, sly, sentimental, muddle-headed little saps.\" She stopped to laugh, a little dismayed by what she had said and the way she had said it. Then she added, \"Why, Lora has more sound sense at eighteen than I had at twenty-five.\"\nIt was a moment or two before Mrs. Harcott replied. She took a long drink of gingerale and nibbled a cookie. Julia found that her stomach was shaking, and envied the admirable self-control displayed by Judd's mother.\n\nThat lady said at last with a humorous lift of nicely arched brows, \"Well, I wish I had as much confidence in Judd. But he's a very intense, romantic nature\u2014too susceptible for his own good, I'm afraid\u2014not that any sensible girl is going to take a boy of that age seriously.\"\n\n\"Meaning,\" Julia thought wrothily, \"that even if he is rushing Lora, she isn't to take him seriously!\"\n\nAloud she said lightly, \"Well, that's fortunate, isn't it?\"\n\nAnd Mrs. Harcott replied, \"Fortunate for all concerned. Bailey's really a very indulgent father but I can easily imagine him cutting Judd off with the money.\"\nShe looked straight at Julia. \"He would get involved in any premature love affair and it would be love in an attic for them, I'm afraid.\" Julia was a direct, plain-spoken woman, unversed in the art of innuendo. She controlled herself from saying, \"Thanks for the warning,\" but managed a nonchalant smile as Mrs. Harcott's. She said, \"That should protect him, shouldn't it? Love in an attic isn't the modern girl's idea of married bliss\u2014 or so I gather from hearing Lora and her friends discuss the marriage state. They not only reject the attic but insist on all the modern conveniences.\"\nThe evening had closed in, it was dark on the porch. She could not see her husband's face, and he did not speak until she wound up her story with an indignant \"What sort of parents do they think we are!\" But instead of betraying anger or shock, George's voice was grave. \"I don't know. Maybe we're the kind they think we are.\" \"What do you mean by that?\" \"I've been thinking those two kids were getting a little too thick for their own good,\" he said. \"Every day and every day, morning and night\u2014 he's practically the only boy she's been out with for the past three weeks. Maybe you hadn't noticed that.\" \"Of course I've noticed. He's her first crush\u2014 and he's a nice boy. A dear boy. Every girl has to go through this sort of thing sooner or later, and I'd rather it would be with Judd than some of the others.\"\nHe said dryly, \"Judd's mother doesn't think well of Lora. She wouldn't think well of any girl he was interested in, probably. She might, out of the obscuring darkness, \"if she thought the girl was good enough for him.\" \"Good enough for him!\" She glared at the darker shadow of his figure. Now she was glad he couldn't see her. For he was right. Suddenly, she knew that as clearly as though Mrs. Harcott had told her in that firm, nicely modulated voice, \"No tailor's daughter is good enough for my son!\" Julia clamped her teeth together. It would be like a woman of that type, a newcomer, to make a point of something the Harbor had accepted for seventeen summers. She said this to George in a voice full of scorn.\n\nGeorge said, \"Yes, but her case is a little different.\"\nNone of the other boys has fallen in love with Lora. If it came to anything as serious as that, their parents might object too. And at her cry of disbelief, he said, \"Oh, they've been pleasant enough summer neighbors\u2014 why shouldn't they be? Lora's been as well brought up and educated as any of the rest of the kids and I've kept their boat club off the rocks\u2014 they can afford to let the bars down for three months in the year, let their kids play with ours just as we let Hay play with Zeb's boys.\" Zeb was a \"native\" who supplied the Harborites with fresh fish. But you notice they don't cultivate us in town any more than we'd cultivate Zeb.\n\nJulia's indignation had given place to confusion. It was true that the Harborites did not cultivate the Parises in town. Lora did not see her summer friends there.\nGeorge mentioned the problems of coming to the cabin from September to June. She hadn't minded or thought about it, neither had Julia. They had their own friends and busy lives.\n\nGeorge was saying, \"Maybe it was a mistake to keep coming up here. It was all right when she was a child but now she's growing up\u2014\" He stopped and lit a cigarette. The tip glowed red as an evil red eye through the thick summer night. Now that she was older, she might fall in love with some boy whose parents wouldn't think her good enough for him! \"It's sickening,\" she said. \"As though we\u2014 but it's too silly. Not worth worrying about. They'll both be back in college in another few weeks.\"\n\nGeorge replied mildly, \"Well, maybe you better have a little talk with Lora. We don't want any unpleasantness after all these years.\"\n\n\"Don't worry! I'll talk to her! But I'm not going to\u2014\"\nI'm not going to make her class-conscious. She objects to me because she's an arrogant snob. I hate her. And Both Were Young\n\nShe was in her nightgown and negligees, ready for bed, when she heard Lora come in.\n\n\"May I come in, darling?\"\n\nLora sat on the side of her bed, still wearing her white flannel coat. Her gray eyes were wide and luminous, her hair curled in sea-damp ringlets against her flushed cheeks. She blinked a little when her mother came in.\n\n\"Oh! Hello, mum! You're still up?\"\n\"I should ask you that!\" Julia said lightly. \"A little girl like you keeping such hours\u2014 why, it's midnight and after.\"\n\n\"I know, darling. We meant to come home ages ago but after the movie\u2014 it was such a wonderful night\u2014 we went down and sat on the rocks.\" Her eyes gazed past her mother in dreamy reminiscence. \"The moon on the sea was so heavenly and it was all so quiet and lovely\u2014\"\n\n\"It must have been,\" her mother said. She wanted to turn and go out. She felt an intruder, felt oddly abashed in the presence of such innocent ecstasy. But she knew that now, indeed, she must stay, say what she had come to say. She stooped and kissed the girl's cheek. \"I don't really mind, darling. I wasn't worried\u2014 only\u2014 were you and Judd alone on the beach?\"\n\n\"I think so. I didn't see anyone else.\"\n\nJulia sat down on the bed, took her daughter's hand.\n\"Darling, don't you think it would look a little better, be a little kinder, if you didn't concentrate on Judd so much?\", Lora turned and looked at her, frowning. \"Kinder? I mean, what's become of your old crowd - Cliff and Royal and Earle and the girls? Aren't you afraid they'll be hurt if you spend all your time with one boy?\" \"I hadn't thought of them. You see, we have so little time, he'll be going so soon.\", \"You mean Judd? But so will all of you, my dear. That's all the more reason why you shouldn't neglect your old friends.\", \"I think they understand.\", \"Understand what, dear?\" \"That, that Judd and I want to be together.\", Now Julia recognized the change in her child. She wondered how she could have been blind to it.\n\"It was so apparent. It was in the girl's voice, in her wide, rapt eyes. Her body seemed to have been remolded, planed down and refined by some secret process of the spirit.\n\n\"But, darling,\" she said, feeling more inadequate than she had ever felt in her life. \"I don't think you should be together so much. After all\u2014\"\n\n\"I love him, mother,\" Lora lifted her head. Her color had faded, her face aglow with a white radiance. \"We love each other. I was going to tell you soon but I\u2014 I couldn't talk about it just yet. It's so wonderful\u2014 I never knew anything could be so wonderful.\"\n\nJulia's heart sank. She warned herself, \"Easy now!\" reminding herself that she was supposed to be a modern, understanding parent.\n\n\"Well!\" she said. \"This is a surprise! When did it happen?\"\n\n\"The first day\u2014 the day he and Cliff came. I met him there.\"\"\n\"him on the beach. I think we both knew\u2014 even then.\n\"Love at first sight!\"\n\n\"Yes. You're not laughing, mother?\" Lora looked quickly at her mother.\n\n\"Good heavens, I shouldn't dream of doing such a thing!\" Julia said. \"I remember too well what I suffered the first time I fell in love\u2014or, rather, the first time I thought I was in love.\n\n\"Judd and I don't think. We know!\n\nJulia said indulgently, \"My sweet, you're just a little girl and this is your first romance\u2014mind, I'm not scolding you. Every girl goes through this sort of thing sooner or later\u2014it's all a part of growing up. But you mustn't take it too seriously. My goodness, you'll probably be in and out of love half a dozen times before the right man comes along.\"\n\n\"Oh!\" Lora stood up. Her coat slipped to the floor and she stood rigid in her long white dress.\"\nLora looked at her mother with hot, indignant eyes. \"How can you say something so horrible!\" she exclaimed.\n\n\"Lora,\" her mother replied.\n\n\"It is horrible. It's indecent. If I thought that, I'd loathe myself. If I thought I could ever love another man the way I love Judd, I'd rather die!\" Lora declared, her eyes fixed on her mother's face, solemn and anxious.\n\n\"Now you're talking melodramatic nonsense,\" Julia said. \"I admit Judd is a nice boy. I'm not surprised you like him. But love! You've known him only a couple of weeks\u2014 and you're little more than children. What can either of you know about love?\"\n\n\"But love isn't something you learn,\" Lora insisted. \"It just happens. The way it did with Judd and me. We didn't ask for it, it just happened.\"\n\n\"What happened,\" Julia said lightly, \"happens to nearly every normal boy and girl. Fortunately, I understand that\u2014 but I'm afraid Mrs. Harcott doesn't.\"\n\"That's why I thought it best to speak to you about it. \"Mrs. Harcott! Judd's mother?\" \"She came over here tonight ostensibly to share our breeze but really to let us know she doesn't approve of Judd's seeing so much of you.\" Lora sat down in the chair beside her dressing table and her mother went and put an arm around the girl's shoulders. \"Oh, she was civil enough but she made it very clear that she doesn't like this affair at all.\" Julia laughed and stroked her daughter's fair hair. \"The whole thing is utterly absurd of course. The idea of her getting all wrought up over an innocent vacation friendship. She evidently hasn't as much confidence in that boy of hers as I have in my girl.\" Lora's small cold hands closed convulsively on her mother's. \"It isn't just a vacation friendship, mother. You don't understand\u2014\"\n\"Don't be trite, darling. I understand that I'll ask you not to go out alone with Judd again. But, mother! I mean it! If I had known this thing had gone so far, I would have put a stop to it long ago. I will not lose my patience. The interview with Mrs. Harcott wore me thin, and I cannot bear the further strain of knowing that her warning came too late. You're not to see him again. When you're older and know more about life, you'll understand why and thank me. Lora said nothing, just stood there rigid and colorless as a little ghost. Julia went back and kissed her daughter.\"\nBut when she went back to her own room, she felt frustrated and terribly depressed. She sat down on her bed and told George about it. \"Of course, I pretended it was nothing serious - I didn't want to make a big issue of it. But it is serious - I never dreamed, if you could have seen her face when she told me,\" she said.\n\n\"Joan of Arc hearing her voices, eh?\" George Paris said, having been sitting up in bed reading and waiting to hear the result of that interview. He reached across and patted his wife's hand. \"I suppose that's the way love is at eighteen.\"\n\n\"Yes. It can be such a terrible or such a wonderful thing. Only we can't let it happen to her - not with Judd,\" Julia said grimly. Her hands fistced. \"It might have been better to tell her the truth - tell her the truth.\"\nHer reason for objecting to her! That might have roused her pride at least. George asked gently. What did you tell her? She gave him a bitter smile. Lies. I talked like a Noel Coward heroine. You'd have been surprised-- but not half as shocked as your modern daughter was. Love, George said, is easily shocked. It's a very old-fashioned emotion. But she's young. She'll get over it and next summer, if I can get away, we'll take her abroad. And on the porch of the Herris cottage, in the thin light of the waning moon, Judd was facing his own private tribunal. Bailey Harcott had looked dubious when his wife announced her intention of speaking to their son. He had said, \"Better not. Why not let it ride? He'll be back in college soon and if he is interested in the girl, it's just infatuation. But if you start criticizing her--\"\n\"Heavens!\" Marie Harcott said, lifting her brows. \"Do you really believe me capable of anything so primitive? That would be the worst thing we could possibly do.\"\n\n\"Then, how the dickens\u2014\"\n\n\"I'm going to say just enough to make the whole affair- and the girl too- appear ridiculous to him. And don't worry, it will! Modern youngsters aren't the sentimentalists we were, my dear.\"\n\nThis was pretty subtle for Mr. Harcott. In his opinion, if a boy was making a fool of himself, he should be told so in so many words. That's the way his father would have handled the business. But perhaps the modern methods were a little more genteel.\n\nAnd so Mrs. Harcott was saying to Judd now, in a voice that was at once affectionate and casual, \"I thought I ought to speak to you on her account as much as your own, darling. Girls of that age are especially susceptible.\"\nThe young man was inclined to be romantic. She might begin to think she was really fond of you....\n\"She's not a 'little thing,' mother. She's a grown woman.\" It would be unfortunate for both of you if that were the case....\nIt's always unfortunate for a boy not yet out of college to let himself get too deeply involved....\n\"I'm not keen about 'involved,' mother. You sound as though you thought Lora had deliberately set out to...\"\nAnd I'm not keen on your tone of voice, son, his father said. \"You're talking to your mother.\"\n\"Sorry. But you don't understand \u2013 either of you. I can't let you speak of Lora like that \u2013 I'm not a child. I'm of age.\"\n\"No man is of age,\" Bailey said angrily, \"until he's independent. And until he is independent \u2013 able to support himself and a wife, if necessary \u2013 he has no right to get himself involved in a love affair!\"\nJudd clenched his hands, his face went quite white and Marie Harcott said, \"Please, Bailey! Let's not have a scene. We know it's not as serious as all that, Judd. We know you wouldn't be foolish enough to handicap your future. It will be years before you'll be in a position to pay serious attentions to any girl. You realize that as well as we do. But we do think it's unwise of you to rush one girl the way you've been rushing Lora Paris. Not that she isn't a nice girl, considering the kind of people she is. \"\n\n\"She's the finest girl I ever met,\" Judd interrupted.\n\nHis father burst out, \"She may be a fine girl, but you're seeing too much of her for your own good. Your mother and I don't like it\u2014we want it stopped. There's the whole thing in a nutshell.\" He said it loudly, drawn up to his full height which still left him several inches shorter than Judd.\nHim half a head shorter than his tall son. He hadn't intended to say anything of the sort. He had intended to be as suave and diplomatic as his wife had desired. But Judd's attitude had confirmed his fears that the young fool was in a fair way to mess up his career before it was even launched. That was intolerable and, for a moment, he had forgotten that modern parents did not bully their young. Modern parents and children were supposed to be good pals. Mr. Harcott thought of this in time and added heartily, \"Understand, we don't want to spoil your fun. We don't expect you to be a monk\u2014 have all the girls you like\u2014 the more the merrier. I mean, have your fun but don't try to get it all in one place.\"\n\nJudd winced from this indulgent speech, his nostrils quivered with distaste. He had just come from \"And Both Were Young\" (page 34).\nthe moonlit beach where he and Lora had sat, their hands locked, their voices hushed by the beauty of the night, the miracle of their love. They had discussed their future long and gravely, and Judd had come home resolved to confide their secret to his parents as Lora was to confide in hers. He had known that his father and mother would be surprised, that they might try to talk him out of engaging himself to Lora while he was still in college. He had been prepared for this, for opposition, a scene, tears. But he had not been prepared for his father's airy dismissal of the thing that was more sacred, more vital to him than anything that had ever happened to him before. Without a word, he turned and walked into the house.\n\nOra walked from Forks Harbor where the summer cottages and the boat club were, to Forks.\nA village set a mile back from the rocky coast. It was a late August morning, and the tall old elms along the way and the green lawns and flower beds behind their white picket fences looked a little dry and dusty. Lora loved the old village. The low-roofed white houses with their small windows and prim doorways always made her think of patient, clean old women waiting for the minister to call. She loved the ancient green where sheep had once grazed and joyous soldiers had once foregathered. But she did not notice these things this morning. She walked briskly, her slender brown arms swinging, the narrow yellow ribbon around her head matching her sleeveless linen dress. Once or twice someone hailed her, and she waved back but did not stop. Village men lounging in front of the drugstore stared at her, and some who knew her called out.\n\"Morning, Miss Paris,\" he said with a mixture of curiosity, contempt, and wistfulness. Propped against the curb in front of the Candy and Soda Emporium, she saw her brother's bicycle. Frowning at that, she quickened her pace, but she was not quite quick enough. As she came abreast of the entrance, Hay came out, slamming the screen door behind him.\n\n\"Hey! Hi, Sis! Where are you going?\" Hay was going to be a very presentable young man one of these days, but at the moment he resembled nothing so much as one of those large jointed wooden dolls popular with little boys and girls. In his extremely short khaki shorts and sleeveless jersey, the lumpy similarity was startling. He was all knees, elbows, and ankles, strung together on lanky, brittle limbs.\nLooking for bones. His ears stood straight out, his blond hair grew every which way, his very fair skin was in the process of peeling for the third time since June, his mouth was stuffed with candy.\n\nLora said casually, \"Hello, darling. I thought you were going sailing.\"\n\n\"I am. Cliff's waiting for the tide. Where are you going?\"\n\n\"Oh, just for a walk.\"\n\nHay mounted his bicycle and began propelling himself along beside her, one foot on the curb, the other on the pedal. \"I bet I know where you're going. What do you bet I know?\"\n\n\"Hay, you're drooling all over your shirt!\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nHay swallowed and drew the back of his hand across his lips and gave her a wide, sticky grin. \"I bet you're going to meet Judd.\"\n\n\"The tide's full at ten. It must be almost ten now.\"\n\n\"I bet you are,\" Hay said, both feet on the pedals.\n\"Now and wobbling dangerously. \"When I asked Cliff if Judd was coming out in the Reckless with us, he said no, Judd had a date.\" \"Well, maybe he has.\" \"And I know who with!\" She went to the curb and took hold of a handlebar. He stopped. \"Don't say that again, dear. Please don't.\" Hay was disturbed by his sister's softly urgent voice but naturally he couldn't afford to let her see that. \"Aw, I was only kiddin'. What's eating you lately, anyway\u2014 all this Lady Macbeth stuff!\" \"Hay, you won't say that to anyone else\u2014 that I'm meeting Judd, will you? I'm not asking you to tell a lie\u2014 I wouldn't do that, dear, but you don't have to say anything about seeing me up here, do you?\" Though the situation between Judd and Lora had never been discussed with him, Hay knew as much.\nHe wasn't a stupid boy. He scornfully said, \"I'm not going to say anything. It's none of my business if you want to go sneaking off to meet a man! I wouldn't do it. If I wanted to see anybody, I'd see them right out where everybody could see, see!\" He wheeled his bike around and made off down the Harbor road, his body bent low over the handlebars in approved racing fashion.\n\nJudd was waiting behind the old white church, his roadster parked in the shade of a maple tree. Opposite the church was the quiet graveyard where the village had buried its dead for two hundred years. The church, parsonage, and graveyard took up the whole of the short street. \"And the parson's busy and the dead won't tell,\" Judd had said when he selected the place for a rendezvous.\nWhen he saw Lora turn into the street, he sprang out and went to meet her. They walked back to the car, arms interlocked, having spoken not a word. But when they were seated in the car, his eyes went hungrily over her. \"Gosh, I'm glad to see you!\" \"I'm kind of glad to see you, too.\" Then he stepped on the starter and they drove off.\n\n\"That's the fifth time,\" said Miss Ermina Hedd, letting the curtain fall back across the sitting room window of the Parsonage. \"If you'd come in here a minute sooner, you'd have seen them yourselves.\"\n\n\"Seen what\u2014 oh, our young lovers, you mean?\" Miss Hedd said to her brother and took off her glasses through which she had watched the meeting between the slim fair-haired girl and the tall brown-haired boy. \"Five days hand running.\"\nThe Reverend Frederick Hedd, who was old and slightly bent but had the youthful face of all truly good old men, smiled mischievously at his sister. \"Well, how could they know you were spying on them?\"\n\n\"I don't see anything to joke about, you know,\" Miss Hedd was annoyed. \"You can be sure their parents don't know they're meeting like this or why.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Fm sure,\" her brother replied. \"Have you seen my spectacles? I've lost them again.\"\n\nMina was waspish. \"Well, if I was a minister of the gospel and saw a thing like that going on right under my nose, I'd do something about it.\"\n\nHer brother peered under a lamp base, shook out a sofa cushion in his search for the missing spectacles. \"I'm afraid you would, Mina. I'm very much afraid you would, my dear,\" he said.\n\nTwo miles from Forks Village, Judd left the road.\nAnd they drove through a small grove of pines to a rocky ledge high above the sea. From that height, the breakers crashing on the rocks below looked gentle and harmless. Distant boats with their sails full of wind appeared to be standing still on the water. Both Judd and Lora gazed out over the sea for a moment, then at the same instant turned and smiled at each other. Judd slid his arm behind her head and drew her face up to his.\n\nAfterwards, for a long time Lora lay quietly in his arms, her head in the hollow of his shoulder, his chin resting on her hair. At last she stirred and said, \"Judd, I hate this\u2014having to meet in this sneaky way. It spoils things a little.\"\n\n\"I hate it, too,\" he replied. \"But we wouldn't be doing it if there was any other way, naturally.\"\n\nNeither of them saw anything odd in that remark.\nWhat was necessary and quite natural for them. Their love had been forced into clandestine channels. It was sad, but they had to make the best of it. They had so little time, now. Summer was gathering in the lovely days so swiftly.\n\nLora said now, \"Only six more days, darling.\"\n\n\"Don't remind me!\" His arms tightened around her. \"Lora, Lora, how am I ever going to live without you all those months!\"\n\n\"Take me back to Haverton with you. You can hide me under the bed and smuggle me up food in your pockets.\"\n\nAnd both were young.\n\n\"Or you might take me with you,\" he said.\n\n\"Expose me to all those girls!\" she cried. \"Never! It's going to be bad enough when you come up for the prom\u2014 you will come, Judd?\"\n\n\"Try and stop me!\"\n\n\"I won't\u2014 but somebody else will,\" she said.\n\nHe said grimly, \"Let them.\"\nShe laughed a little and clung to him. \"I love you so, darling! Judd, you won't forget me, will you?\"\n\n\"Lora! How can you? I know I won't mean to, but you'll be so far away. You'll be meeting new people\u2014new girls. So many things can happen\u2014that's what our parents are counting on. They don't think our love will last\u2014they think it's just silly boy and girl stuff\u2014that we'll forget all about each other. And that's what they want, Judd.\"\n\n\"I know. And that's where the joke's going to be on them, isn't it?\" He held her away and searched her eyes. \"Could you forget me, Lora? Don't you know you're mine\u2014forever and ever?\"\n\nShe closed her eyes and he drew her back to him. \"Yes. I'm yours. I know that\u2014and that's what makes it seem so silly\u2014for me to be afraid.\"\n\n\"Afraid, Lora darling?\"\n\"To let you go. This has been so wonderful\u2014\nAnd Both Were Young\nJudd, do you think life will ever be so wonderful for us again?\n\"More wonderful when we can really belong to each other, dear.\"\nShe was quiet for a little, then, \"It seems such a long time. It wouldn't, I suppose, if they'd believe in us\u2014if we could really be engaged.\"\n\"Or married!\" he said so loudly and suddenly that she looked at him with frightened eyes. He took her face between his hands. \"If you were my wife, nothing could happen to separate us. Do you realize that, Lora? Darling, will you marry me now\u2014will you marry me today?\"\n\"Judd! You\u2014you don't mean that!\"\n\"Why shouldn't I mean it? If it hadn't been right for us to belong to each other, why did this happen to us? And why should we wait? We're no younger than plenty of couples who've made a success of marriage.\"\nWe're sure of our love, aren't we?\n\"We\u2014 yes, we're sure of that.\"\nAnd what's a college degree? Plenty of fellows get along without them. If I go back to college\u2014 well, you said yourself that's what our parents are counting on. They think this'll wear off\u2014that we'll forget. And they'll do everything in their power to make us forget, be sure of that! And how do we know they won't succeed!\nShe cried, \"Judd!\"\nAnd Both Were Young\nHe said passionately, \"Lora, let's not risk it, darling! Let's take a chance. I can get a job\u2014some kind of job\u2014enough to keep us. And we'll be together. Lora, will you do it? Will you, my darling?\"\nShe went from white to scarlet, her breath came quick and light through her open lips. She said in a whisper, \"Yes\u2014but not\u2014not that way. I couldn't let you lose that.\"\n\"your degree\u2014 take a job. I couldn't do that to you, Judd. But if\u2014 if you\u2019ll promise to go back to college\u2014 if you\u2019ll let me go back home right after the\u2014 wedding, I\u2014 I'll marry you today.\"\n\n\"Go back\u2014 leave you\u2014\"\n\n\"Don\u2019t you see, that would make everything right. Everything would be different then\u2014 if we were married\u2014 we\u2019d know nothing could separate us then\u2014 till death did us part\u2014 you remember how it goes, Judd?\"\n\n\"I remember. Lora\u2014 I'd wear the ring around my neck and every night I\u2019d put it on my finger\u2014 Your wedding ring,\" he said.\n\n\"Nothing could take that away from us\u2014 we\u2019d both be safe. And then in June\u2014 they\u2019d believe then that it was real \u2014 they\u2019d have to believe us, then, and we could tell them\u2014 Yes,\" he said. \"In June we could tell them\u2014\"\n\nShe pressed her face against his and he kissed her.\n\"Awed and reverent, they exchanged kisses with wet eyes. There are moments of exaltation so dazzling that the effect is like looking into the sun. It was like this with Judd and Lora. They could see nothing but the splendor of their plan. It was such a beautiful plan, so sane and reasonable. They must still be separated, but it would be a separation welcomed by the knowledge that they were man and wife. Surely, they would be harming no one by the simple joining of their lives and loves. \"To feel that I am yours\u2014to know that you are mine!\" was the burden of their rhapsodic song.\n\n\"My wife, my own beloved little wife!\"\n\n\"Yes.\" And, after a little, Lora said, \"Darling, could we go to that dear old church in the village\u2014our trysting place, you know? It's so sweet and peaceful, and no one in the village knows us. If we go there, we can marry in secret.\"\"\nTell the minister how things are, he'll keep our secret, I know. Judd liked that idea, remembering the slender white spire and the rambling old parsonage half buried under its leafy lilac bushes and rambling roses. But I think we'd better not get our license in the village, dear. We can drive over to Salem Rocks. Can you get away right after lunch? We can buy the ring there, too.\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nLora was never to forget that lunch with her parents the day she promised to marry Judd. There were just the three of them. Hay was still out on the Reckless\u2014 \"Catching us a mess of fish for dinner, so he says!\" George Paris said and laughed.\n\nHay's mother said loyally, \"Whatever he catches, we'll have to eat, so you may as well be prepared.\"\n\nThey luncheoned on the screened porch overlooking the garden, an old-fashioned patchwork quilt of colors spread over the table.\nDelphinium and phlox and foxgloves and coreopsis. The smell of the flowers and the sea was sweet and heavy in the lazy midday heat. George's Adam's apple rode free of his open shirt collar and Julia looked cool and young in her flowered linen dress. They were in a merry mood. George teased Lora about her freckles, \"Darned if she hasn't got a new one- right on the tip of her nose, too!\" Her mother said that was because Lora had inherited her fair skin. \"Never you mind, darling, it's better to have a few freckles than a face like an old suitcase like someone I might mention,\" she said, and winked at her daughter. Lora didn't have the heart to wink back. They were so sweet. They were old and hard and love to them was a forgotten word. But they were hers and it was terrible to think that she must hurt them.\n\n46. And Both Were Young.\nShe thought of it like that. It was one of the things she remembered later\u2014 her fatalistic sense that she must do what she was doing, that she and Judd must make their love secure against the hostile forces they were sure would be launched against it. Though she had never loved her parents more tenderly, not once did she waver, not once did it occur to her to turn back.\n\nThe Garden Club was holding its annual exhibition at the boat club that afternoon, and when they left the table, Julia said, \u201cDon\u2019t forget, you promised to serve on the refreshment committee, darling.\u201d\n\nLora had forgotten, but she smiled and said, \u201cOh, yes!\u201d She was astonished that she could be so cool and wondered if perhaps she wasn't the wickedest daughter in the world. \"What time do you think I should be there? I\u2014 I have to go up to the village first.\"\n\"Four-thirty or five. By that time, she would be wearing her wedding ring next to her heart. I'll be there, she said and went up to her room to change. It was a small, low ceiled room. The woodwork was white and there were ruffled curtains at the windows and hooked rugs on the floor. The small spool bed, chest, and table were of soft old maple. And Both Were Young.\n\nLora had slept in that room every summer of her life. As she had grown older, it had grown smaller and the sea, which she could see from the window beside her bed, had come closer. She went and stood at that window now, thinking that when she stood there again, she would be Judd's bride- spiritually and legally she would be a wife. And that was all they needed or wanted right now, that would be enough.\"\nShe took off the little yellow dress, the ribbon from her hair. White for the bride. She chose a plain white crepe dress, fresh and spotless. For something new, she would carry the little white silk bag her father had bought her on one of his trips to New York. She was in and out of the tub in five minutes. She brushed and brushed her hair until it shone. Then she tied it back with a narrow blue ribbon\u2014\u201csomething blue,\u201d she thought.\n\nWhen she was ready, she looked at herself in the mirror. Clean and slim and fragrant; white and gold. Did I look like a bride? I thought Judd would think so.\n\nIt was a little after five when Judd and I went, arm in arm, up the flagged walk of the Parsonage and pulled the old-fashioned doorbell. Miss Ermina Hedd answered it, and her mouth dropped open when she saw us standing on the mat.\n\"And both were young.\n\n\"Good afternoon,\" Judd said. \"Is the minister home? I'm sorry to say I don't know his name.\"\n\nMiss Hedd's sharp eyes went from the man to the girl. The gates of Heaven had opened just wide enough to shed a little of its immortal glory on those two young faces. But joy that is worn like a light was an offensive thing in Ermina's eyes\u2014especially when it is illicit joy, which her previous knowledge of them convinced her it was. Her first impulse, as she afterwards confessed, was to say the minister was not at home and send them away \"with a piece of my mind!\" Though this would have been a heinous lie and she revered the truth, she would have done so if she had not feared her brother's wrath. But she knew he had heard the bell, he would have to be told who had rung it, and she could not lie to him.\"\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"he's in. But he's very busy writing his sermon. Is your business important?\" The color flooded Lora's cheeks, and she moved a little closer to her lover. But Judd said clearly and firmly, \"We want to ask him to marry us, if he will.\"\n\n\"Well! Well!\" But there was nothing for it but to let them in. She stood aside, her head high, her thin nostrils quivering. \"Come in\u2014step into the parlor, please. I'll speak to him.\"\n\nShe hurried down the hall to her brother's study.\n\nFrederick heard his sister out without moving, without speaking. His eyes still on the papers before him, his pencil still poised, he listened to his sister's indignant, shrill-voiced story. I knew all along they were up to something like this. They're eloping. I'm as sure of it as I am of my own name. And if you marry them, you'll be...\n\n(Assuming the text ends here and there is no missing information)\nHe took off his spectacles and laid down his pencil. \"If they are of age and their license is in order, they'd have no trouble getting someone else to marry them even if I refused.\"\n\n\"Well, at least the sin wouldn't be on your head! Why don't you notify their parents? They're from down at the Harbor\u2014summer people\u2014you can tell that with half an eye. You could telephone the girl's parents.\"\n\nHe sighed again. \"Parents are often no wiser than their children, Mina. You must leave this to me. Ask them to come over to the vestry, please. I'd rather talk with them there\u2014 Ermina Hedd was a virtuous woman, a devoted sister, a matchless housekeeper; charitable to the poor, merciful to the sick. But she possessed none of\"\nThose softer qualities, to which we can trace the old adage that all the world loves a lover. Fifty and both were young. She would have been hard pressed to say which she despised more\u2014 lovers or the \"summer people.\" It was unfortunate that Judd and Lora should fall under the stigma of her two most ardent antipathies. But it was not entirely responsible for her determination to frustrate their design if she could. By the time she had retraced her steps to the parlor, she had convinced herself that the salvation of this erring pair lay in her own two capable hands. Her thin cheekbones burned with religious fever.\n\nThe two young people, seated very close together on the haircloth sofa, stood up as she entered and looked at her eagerly.\n\n\"I forgot to ask your names,\" Ermina said.\n\n\"He wouldn't know me\u2014 my name is Harcott,\" Judd replied.\nAnd they were no sooner out of the door than she had the telephone receiver off its hook. She said to the operator, \"Mattie, I'm in a hurry. Do you know the number of the Paris family down at the Harbor?\"\n\n\"Sure. It's three nine, ring two four. Shall I connect you?\"\n\n\"Please, Mattie, and ring them hard.\"\n\nSo Mattie rang the Paris' telephone hard, and Hay, just off the Reckless and looking for someone to admire his catch of four beautiful, if slightly undersized mackerel, answered it. He informed the urgent voice at the other end that neither Mr. nor Mrs. Paris was at home, that he wasn't sure when they would be. That, yes, if it was important.\nHe might be able to find them, they were probably at the Garden Club Exhibit. Yes, he could deliver the message\u2014\n\nYears afterward, the memory of those few moments was still fresher in Hay's mind than any other. The feel of the drowsy summer afternoon, the smell of the sea and of his own fishy hands, the sounds that drifted in through the screened windows\u2014 children's laughter, the put-put of the fishermen's boats, a radio playing that summer's sentimental hit\u2014 \"The Boulevard of Broken Dreams.\"\n\nHay was not yet fifteen, half boy, half man. For a moment after he had hung up the receiver, he felt terribly helpless and confused, frightened too, by the portentous message he had agreed to deliver. He drew his bony forearm across his forehead and said, \"Gee! Golly!\" Then he started across the room on a run. But at the door he stopped. He had, as all his senses told him, a mission to complete.\nboys have, his own code of ethics. It suddenly occurred to him that what he was about to do was something he had never done before. Never had he been a tattle-tale, never had he betrayed a friend. Lora was more than a friend\u2014more to him than anyone else save his father and mother. He remembered her face that morning, how sweet she had looked, how sad. \"I wouldn't ask you to tell a lie. Hay\u2014\" And he admired Judd, too. He admired Judd more than any young man he knew. And now he was going to let them down. Well, he wouldn't do it. He'd be darned if he would. It wasn't his affair. If people wanted to get married\u2014and she couldn't marry a nicer guy than Judd\u2014and Judd would be his brother-in-law\u2014\n\n\"Hello, darling, when did you get back?\" His mother came, cool and smiling up the porch steps.\n\"Did you catch anything? Why, Hay! What is it, darling? If he had had a little more time, but here was comfort, here was the calm and loving strength that makes a boy weak sometimes and after all, Hay was only a boy. He broke into a boy's rasping sobs\u2014and out came the story.\n\nGeorge Paris swung his car into the shady street where the white spire showed above the elms and Julia said, \"This must be the place,\" and George nodded and jammed on the brake.\n\nMrs. Harcott leaned forward from the back seat and screamed above the screech of the brake, \"Is this the place?\"\n\nJulia screamed back, \"I think so\u2014that's Judd's roadster there, isn't it?\" and opened the door. She and the Harcotts were out of the car before it had come to a full stop. George followed, slamming the door behind him.\n\nGeorge had said they would make it in five minutes.\"\nHe had been right. They had lost time at the Harbor. Julia had to rush to the Clubhouse to find her husband. When George heard Hay's story, he insisted on hunting down the Harcotts. Fortunately, they were still there\u2014Mrs. Harcott presiding over a flower booth, her husband in the game room. George got them outside, away from the crowds before he told them.\n\nEvery detail of that brief drive to the village, with the hot afternoon sun in their faces, was indelibly stamped on Julia's mind. The way Mr. Harcott's plump face had seemed to crumple. The way his wife's expression gradually woke from disbelief to deadly fury and resentment.\n\n\"To elope\u2014 like a common\u2014 I can't believe Judd,\" Mrs. Harcott exclaimed.\nHer burning eyes were fixed on Julia, an obvious impeachment of her son's seducer and the seducer's parents. Julia thought, \"Of course she would blame Lora! The girl is always to blame!\" and she looked at George. But he sat tight-lipped at the wheel. If he had heard, he gave no sign, and Julia followed his example. \"Lora! Lora! Lora!\" she thought.\n\nNo, it was not a pleasant ride. But they were no sooner out of the car than Ermina Hedd came running down the flagstoned path to meet them. She had been watching at the window. She said breathlessly, \"It's all right. They're not married yet. I told my brother I'd sent you word, and he said for you to come over to the vestry - this way.\"\n\nThe small vestry was close with the smell of dust.\nMr. Hedd and Mr. Both, both young, entered the church from the garden. He greeted the quartet filing in, blinking their sun-blinded eyes. His gaze fell on each one - the plump man in white flannels, the lean man in knickers, the two women in simple, light summer frocks with the unmistakable city air and manner of all the summer people at Forks Harbor.\n\nErmina started. \"These are the parents-\"\n\nMr. Harcott interrupted. \"My name is Harcott- Judd's father.\"\n\n\"I'm his mother.\" He bowed again and looked beyond her. \"Then you must be Mr. and Mrs. Paris.\"\n\"Yes,\" Julia pushed past Mr. Harcott. \"Your sister telephoned. They're inside the church.\"\n\n\"They're inside\u2014 in the church\u2014\", the four of them surged forward, but the minister stepped back against the inner door, his hand uplifted, palm toward them. \"Wait, please. They're quite comfortable and safe in there. And if you don't mind, I should like to have a few words with you before you see them. Won't you sit down?\"\n\nBailey Harcott said crisply, \"Thank you, but we're hardly in the mood.\"\n\n\"Please sit down. You needn't wait, Mina.\" He was a simple, country parson in shabby, ill-fitting clothes. His voice was singularly sweet and mild. But Ermina turned promptly and went out, and Julia and Mrs. Harcott dropped automatically into two slatted Sunday School chairs. George did not move.\nMr. Harcott, standing near the door, glared at Frederick. \"Your children and I have had a nice, long talk - fine boy and girl as I've met in a long time, by the way - and they've told me frankly how matters stand,\" he said. \"They've been vague about the reasons for your disapproval of their attachment.\" He removed his spectacles and smiled benevolently at them. \"Since my sister felt it her duty to notify you of their impending marriage, I thought it as well to postpone the ceremony and give you an opportunity to state your objections.\"\n\nThey couldn't believe their ears. \"Do you mean,\" Bailey Harcott asked hoarsely, \"that you actually would have married them without our consent?\"\nThe minister questioned them after they confessed they were getting married without their parents' knowledge and consent.\n\n\"A parent's consent is unnecessary in cases where the young people are of age,\" Frederick said calmly. \"However, if you can show just cause why\u2014\"\n\n\"Just cause!\" Marie Harcott repeated, shaking. \"Isn't it cause enough that they've come to you like this \u2013 to ask you to marry them secretly?\"\n\n\"Not always,\" the minister replied. \"When a young couple comes to me in these circumstances, especially as high-principled a young couple as Judd and Lora, I look about for the reason. Experience has taught me that there would be no secret marriages if there were a better understanding between parents and children. In my opinion, there are no bad children \u2013 only bad parents.\"\n\n\"That is not the case here! Judd's father and I\u2014\"\n\"You mean you had no objection to Judd courting Lora?\" Bailey Harcott answered for his wife. \"Courting her! I tell you the boy's still in college. He can't support himself, let alone a wife.\" \"He doesn't intend to support her,\" Frederick said, \"until he is through college. They have no idea of consummating their marriage before that time. They merely wish to go through the ceremony.\" \"Ridiculous!\" Mrs. Harcott cried, and Frederick looked at her. \"It doesn't seem ridiculous to them, nor to me, my friend. It does seem sad, very sad, that they should feel compelled to take such a course,\" George Paris spoke up suddenly. \"You've hit the nail on the head there. Doctor! I can see how they feel compelled to do this.\"\nThey would. They're romantic and sensitive\u2014 at least, our Lora is\u2014 and they've magnified our objections until they've got, well, what you might call delusions of persecution. Where we made our mistake was in not taking them more seriously, but we didn't. We didn't take them seriously at all.\n\n\"That's the modern way, isn't it?\" Mr. Hedd said. \"It's unfashionable to take things seriously these days, isn't it? Especially anything as quaint and antiquated as love.\"\n\n\"This is absurd!\" Marie Harcott said impatiently. \"For us to sit here dramatizing a boy and girl in infatuation, which is all this is. They'll live to thank us for interfering\u2014 at least, Judd will. He's not in a normal frame of mind, he couldn't be. He never did an underhanded thing in his life before\u2014 until he met this girl\u2014 Lora did the same.\"\nShe met this boy! And please remember, Judd is nearly four years older\u2014\n\"If he were ten years older, he still would have been putty in her hands. She has monopolized him from the first day he arrived\u2014\"\nAnd both were young, 59\n\"She\u2014 that's not true! Judd has been at our house morning, noon and night\u2014\"\n\"Yes, and you let him come. You knew quite well what it would lead to. You hoped\u2014\"\n\"I hoped for nothing. I never gave it a second thought. I liked Judd and trusted him\u2014\"\n\"Because you knew it was to your advantage to trust him! Because you knew perfectly well she'd probably never have another chance to make such a match\u2014\"\nThe two husbands had been making inarticulate sounds and vague gestures peculiar to embarrassed males. The old minister stood quietly, fingering his spectacles, his narrowed eyes swinging back and forth.\nBetween the two enraged women. Now Bailey Harcott laid a hand on his wife's shoulder. \"Marie!\" she turned her blazing eyes on him. \"You know it's true. You've said yourself they'd never have been accepted in any other community like this! They wouldn't have been accepted here if they hadn't bought their way in\u2014\"\n\nJulia Paris sprang from her chair and across the room, planted herself before the minister. \"Let me by, please! I must see my daughter!\"\n\nHe stepped back until he was flat against the door and shook his white head slowly. \"So this is what drove those two poor children to me.\"\n\n\"Let me by, please! You can't keep a mother from her child!\"\n\n\"And both were young.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon, I can. While that boy and girl are in my church they are in God's care\u2014and mine.\" His old voice rang like an organ tone in the room.\n\"Why should I give them up to you? You've made no effort to understand what was in their young hearts. Love came to them, but it didn't come at the right time or in the way you approved, so you belittled and ridiculed it. You repelled them with your sophistries, pushing them back on each other for the comfort and understanding they should have found in their parents!\n\nMarie Harcott retorted hotly, \"They would never have been happy-\"\n\n\"Rubbish!\" the old voice boomed, and they shrank back. A terrible old man, in his wrath, was the country parson. \"How do you know they wouldn't-how could anyone know? But you weren't thinking of their happiness-you were thinking of yourselves, your own personal animosities-your social appearances. Now, when the damage is done, when it's too late, you come crying and pleading-\"\n\"Too late!\", said Julia sharply and breathlessly. \"You mean you would marry them against our wishes?\" \"Why not? They came to me with the purest motives, their license is in order, they are of age, they love each other. As to your objections- you and Both Were Young have failed them. Parents who fail their children can't expect to be honored by them. I'm not sure that I wouldn't be failing them too if I were to part them now, when they have come so far- to the very foot of the altar.\" It seemed preposterous to them afterwards, that they should have allowed themselves to be reduced to speechless confusion by a simple country parson. Marie Harcott was the first to throw off his spell. She was a proud and furious woman, but she was also clever. It was plain\nthe old man was a fanatic. And so she said, very gently and gravely, \"Why not discuss this with Judd and Lora? Why not let them decide?\"\n\n\"They have already made their decision. I doubt if any one of us can alter it.\"\n\n\"We can try.\"\n\nHe appeared to consider this, his faded blue eyes fixed thoughtfully on his folded hands. Then he said, \"It might be that we could persuade them to agree to an engagement\u2014 if they would and if you would sanction an engagement between them, we might persuade them to wait.\"\n\nThe four exchanged quick, dazed glances. Old Frederick talked on, his voice rising and falling in solemn pulpit cadences. But he was scarcely aware of what he said now. He was watching them anxiously, wondering if they would see through this.\n\n62 And Both Were Young.\nGeorge Paris made a strategic move, despite being a little alarmed and not at all conscience-stricken. The future of those two waiting in the quiet church lay in his hands. \"The right to pledge their love openly\u2014 that is all they ever wanted,\" he thought.\n\nBailey Harcott interrupted, \"In the circumstances, it might be the wisest thing to do. If Mr. and Mrs. Paris\u2014\"\n\n\"The only thing we can do, as far as I can see,\" George Paris replied grimly.\n\nMarie Harcott cried with a half-hysterical laugh, \"Why, of course! It's the very thing. They'll certainly agree to that\u2014 and it will give us time.\"\n\nThe radiance that had flooded the minister's face died away. He saw now that he had been mistaken. The future of that boy and girl did not rest with him, after all. Once outside his church, once back in their own world, they would be subject to its influences.\nThe reverend Frederick Hedd's church was a small, unpretentious place. Its pews were painted white, its altar of uncarved oak, its plain glass windows were fringed with the ivy that blanketed its outer walls. A humble little church, but it had the serenity and dignity common to every House of God, which, unlike other houses, sees human nature only at its Sunday best or subdued by those solemn crises which punctuate man's prosaic biography.\n\nLora and Judd sat in one of the front pews, their hands and arms interlocked. Mr. Hedd had forewarned them. They had been shocked and frightened.\nThey stood for a moment, but that had passed. They were prepared for open battle now. Their faces were white; Judd's eyes narrow and rebellious, Lora's wide and eager. In her heart, she was glad their secret had been forced into the open. Now they could proclaim their love, fight for it honestly. But they were not to be permitted to fight, there was to be no battle. Mrs. Harcott's first remark made that apparent. She hurried to them, at once indulgent and gently reproachful. \"You two silly children!\" she exclaimed. \"What do you mean by running out on us this way!\" The others were quick to pick up the cue. \"You should have had more faith in us!\" \"My darling, if you had come to me frankly-\" \"Lora, you should have known-\" It was not a long interview. Neither Frederick nor the elopers were permitted a voice in it until-\nparents had had their say. As their purpose dawned on Judd and Lora, their abortive attempts to speak ceased altogether. They could only look at each other with dazed, incredulous eyes. But there is something oddly unsettling in the discovery that one's supposed enemies are in reality harmless, well-meaning folk; in finding that the bridges so valiantly burned behind one, have been magically rebuilt for a victorious retreat.\n\n\"--an engagement,\" Mrs. Harcott was saying. \"Then if you feel the same toward each other after Judd has graduated--\"\n\nThey had gone as far as that when the church rang suddenly with Lora's sharp outcry, \"No! We don't want that, Judd\u2014not now! This\u2014it's the same as an engagement. You tell them, Mr. Hedd!\" She pulled frantically at Judd's sleeve. \"Judd, tell them it's all settled. We can't change things now!\"\nBut Mr. Hedd had told them and Judd merely flung an arm around her, held her close, \"Darling, don't you see, it's all right now? Everything's all right?\" For he had been terribly moved by his parents' drawn faces, their forgiving attitude. Lora's outburst in the face of such magnanimity appeared childish and unreasonable to him as to their elders.\n\nAnd of course it was childish. Even Lora herself could see that, and utterly unreasonable. Now that there was no longer any excuse for secrecy, now that they had gained their end. And this sort of thing always looked so badly for a runaway marriage, Lora\u2014and of course it reflects on the parents. They would be imputed with the worst motives.\nThe ones who are blamed, and she managed to catch Mr. Hedd's eyes as she said it. \"I don't think you and Judd have considered that, have you?\"\n\nAnd so, very simply and politely, with no raised voices save for that one hysterical outburst from Lora, and with the full consent of their parents, the elopers found themselves a betrothed couple instead of man and wife.\n\nIt was the minister who used the quaint and flowery word, congratulating them on their \"betrothal.\" He went and stood between them with his arms around their shoulders. He said, his old voice booming genially, \"I congratulate you, even though I do lose by it\u2014 I presume you intended to pay me for the job, young man?\" And, when Judd looked at him uncertainly, he laughed and hugged the tall boy's shoulders. \"Just my little joke! And now, I sup...\"\nAll this time he led them down the aisle, the others following. They were all outside in the sunshine again. For a moment, the bright glare after the shady church blinded Lora. She stood blinking, her head lowered. When she heard someone shout her name and Judd's, she looked up, and her mother said, \"That was Cliff Sidney and little Hannah Vines \u2013 who was the man in the rumble seat, I wonder?\" Judd said, \"Looked like Earle Gracie,\" and they all stared earnestly after the disappearing car as if nothing extraordinary had happened.\n\nIt came about naturally enough that Lora should:\n\n(Note: The text appears to be complete and does not contain any meaningless or unreadable content, ancient languages, or OCR errors. Therefore, no cleaning is necessary.)\nLora drove home in her father's car while Mr. and Mrs. Harcott went in Judd's roadster. Lora found herself seated between her parents on the front seat. She wasn't sure if she had said good-bye to Judd, wasn't very sure of anything save the pressure of her mother's and father's bodies on either side of her. The whole back seat was empty, and here she was crowded in the front with her parents, like a little girl. And suddenly she felt like a little girl, very small and immensely guilty. She wouldn't have felt quite so guilty if they had approached her.\n\n\"That old minister,\" Julia said across Lora to her husband, \"is really a sweet thing. He talks like an old-fashioned book.\"\n\n\"Maybe that's why I liked him,\" George said. \"I always did like old-fashioned books.\"\n\nLora went straight up to her room when they arrived home.\nLora reached home. Her mother and father seemed not to notice; they were talking about Hay's mackerel. \"I'm afraid they're too small to cook, after all,\" her mother said.\n\nLora hurried upstairs, closed her door, and leaned against it, her eyes closed, her upper lip caught hard between her teeth. Then she opened her eyes and saw herself in the mirror opposite the door. Her white dress was still fresh, and the blue ribbon still circled her bright head. The new white bag still hung from her fingers. She thought, going across to her bureau, \"I forgot something borrowed,\" with a little stab of alarm. And then she realized that it didn't matter.\n\nShe stood at the window and looked at the sea. Familiar, late-afternoon sounds drifted up to her\u2014cars going home from the club, tennis players strolling past, holding heated post-match discussions over the last game. And Both Were Young.\nSet, the hiss of a spraying hose next door. Sounds light-hearted enough, but they fell with strange discordance on Lora's ears. She remembered thinking, before she had gone to meet Judd, that when she came back to all this again, she would be a bride. Now she thought, with a quizzical twist of lips, that she had come back a widow who had never been a wife. She sat down suddenly on her bed, her hand fisted hard against her mouth, but a knock on the door brought her to her feet.\n\n\"Come in!\"\n\nHay came in slowly. He was clean, having just washed up for dinner, and his freckles stood out triumphantly against his scrubbed, sunburned skin. He had soaked and brushed his hair with such good effect that only a couple of unruly spikes had broken loose from the sodden mass\u2014and his day's catch dangled from a string in his outstretched hand.\nHe said, \"Hello- look!\" Lora sat down on the bed again. \"Hello- oh, grand. What are they?\" \"Mackerel. Four- see?\" Lora looked at the mackerel. They had been out of the water for some time now, a fact rather strongly apparent in the small room. \"Lovely!\" \"They're not very big- but they're legal. I mean, you throw them back when they're really little. He eyed them anxiously then he said, \"Mom thinks they're too small to cook but, if you like, I'll cook a couple of them for you.\" Lora managed to smile her gratitude. \"No, thanks, darling. I- I'm not very hungry.\" \"You couldn't eat just one?\" She shook her head. \"I'm afraid not, dear.\" He started for the door, suddenly he turned back. His face was fiery red, his voice harsh and angry. He burst out, \"Listen- it's all my fault. I- I couldn't keep my mouth shut- I had to go and spill it!\"\n\"didn\u2019t mean to\u2014 I don\u2019t know what made me do it\u2014\n\"Oh!\" Lora cried. \"Oh! So\u2014 it was you!\"\n\"Yeah, it was me!\u201d he snarled. \u201cI couldn\u2019t keep my darn mouth shut!\"\n\"But that\u2019s all right, darling!\" Lora said and smiled on him brightly. \"You mustn\u2019t feel badly. It\u2019s really fine that you did tell because everything\u2019s fine now. I mean, they believe us now so everything\u2019s fine! We\u2019re engaged\u2014 \"\n\"You\u2019re going to marry him anyway! Say, that\u2019s swell! He\u2019ll be my brother-in-law, then. Say! Judd\u2019s a prince, all right. An\u2019 listen, you know he bought half an interest in Cliff\u2019s Reckless and maybe he\u2019ll take me for a cruise sometime. Do you think maybe he will?\"\n\n\"Yes, maybe he\u2014 maybe he will.\"\n\"Say\u2014 He stopped, appalled. Lora had gone\"\nThe limp woman doubled forward like a dropped marionette. Her body shook and the sound of her sobs was terrible to hear. Hay looked at her fearfully, shifting his feet. He looked at the door. Then he placed his mackerel on a chair and shuffled across to her. \"Aw, listen, don't do that, sis!\" He sat down beside her and laid his bony arm across her shoulders and patted her awkwardly. It was a thing he had never done before and he felt pretty foolish doing it now, but there was, luckily, no one around to see. \"Listen, you better quit. You'll be sick if you don't. Listen, what are you crying for anyway? Everything's okay now, isn't it?\" And, after a little, Lora said with her face still sunk in her soaked handkerchief, \"Yes. Everything's okay now.\"\n\nJudd's sense of guilt spread and deepened until it was all but intolerable. Neither on the drive home.\nBut his parents hadn't referred to his crime at dinner. But his mother looked white and worn, his father's determined nonchalance was nearly as trying. After dinner, Mrs. Harcott went out on the porch and lay down in the swing. Bailey made straight for the living room and his evening paper.\n\nJudd wandered restlessly around the house, picked up a magazine and laid it down, turned the radio on and off. He knew he should be grateful for this silence, this polite pretense that nothing unusual had occurred. Instead, he found it terribly oppressive. Not that he wanted a rumpus, but, now that he could think back over that scene in the church, it seemed to him that so much had been left unsaid. Things had happened so swiftly. Everything had been settled\u2014 nothing had been settled. He had been expecting an apology, some explanation, some acknowledgment of what had transpired. But there had been none. And now, in the quiet of the house, he felt the weight of it all pressing down on him.\nJudd had no chance to explain himself, and there was a great divide between him and his parents. His heart was overflowing. He longed for a young boy's privilege to unburden himself on his mother's breast. He shoved his hands into his pockets and went out onto the porch.\n\n\"Cover my feet with that little afghan, dear?\" Judd covered his mother's feet with the afghan. She thanked him faintly, and he said, speaking quickly and very casually, \"I think I'll go see Lora for a few minutes.\"\n\nShe said gently, \"Very well, dear.\" Before he could move, she asked, \"Judd, do you think if we started tomorrow, you could drive me home and get back to college in time?\"\n\nHe looked down at her, astounded. \"Tomorrow! Drive you\u2014?\"\n\n72... And Both Were Young\n\n\"We need to get the car back to Cleveland somehow.\"\nIf it would be more convenient for the servants to go by train, as they leave a day after us, they will still arrive before us - in time to open the house. Your father can drive your car as far as Haverton and come on from there by rail.\n\nBut why the rush? I thought we weren't leaving until next week, and besides, you'd hate a long trip like that. You know how boring you find such journeys.\n\n\"I know, dear. But I think I would enjoy this - with you. And I want to get away - I feel I must go home. We could take it slowly - I seem to be quite tired.\"\n\nHe winced at that, feeling the heat in his cheeks. But his thoughts flew to Lora. \"Wouldn't it look a little funny to the Parises?\"\n\n\"Funny in what way, darling?\"\n\"I'll need to make some announcements about our engagement. They'll likely want to have a party. But I'm not up to it just now. We'll have to postpone that. They can make an official announcement without us being present. They probably won't bother to wait for us in New York.\n\nJudd walked to the porch edge, looking out at the leaf pattern and moonlight on the lawn. He felt confused, angry, and disappointed but had no right to complain. No right to argue over insignificant details. He should be glad to be let off so easily.\n\nI was going to go to Providence in the morning to get the ring.\"\n\"It would be better to leave early and get the ring in Cleveland to send to Lora. She broke off and sighed deeply. I'm really too tired to discuss it any more tonight, Judd. She was taking it for granted that he would agree. He glanced uneasily at her through the thickening dusk. She was lying very still, he thought her eyes were closed. Well, guess I'd better be stepping, he said and tiptoed down the porch steps. Marie heard him go and her languor vanished. She threw off the afghan, sprang up and hurried into the living room. He's gone, she said. He's gone over to the Parises. Well, I suppose that's natural.\"\nHis wife's hands balled at her sides. \"I can't bear it!\"\n\"Now, now, you won't have to bear it much longer. How did he take to the idea of leaving tomorrow?\"\n\"Oh, he's coming\u2014 he doesn't want to, of course.\" She gave a short, harsh laugh. \"He wanted to stay \u2014to celebrate the engagement\u2014 have a party!\"\n\"Well, but if he's agreed to go to the party\u2014 sit down, dear\u2014\"\n\"The bell! Who can that be? I can't\u2014 \"\nThe maid said from the doorway, \"Mrs. Paris would like to see you. She says\u2014 \"\nBut before she could say more, Julia was there behind her to speak for herself. \"I'm sorry to disturb you like this but something rather important has happened\u2014 \"\nThe maid retired and Marie hurriedly crossed the room and closed the door. Bailey Harcott stood up, made a half-gallant half-embarrassed gesture toward a chair. \"Won't you sit down?\"\n\"She thanked me and sat on the edge of a straight chair. She wore a white flannel coat over her light dress, and her hands were deep in its pockets. She was breathless. \"Did Mrs. Welles call you about Lora and Judd? She wanted to know if there was any truth to the elopement story.\" Marie stood near the door, her big figure rigid, her mouth tight. \"I don't know Mrs. Welles.\" \"She's the local correspondent for the New York papers. She called a few minutes ago, asking about Lora and Judd. I can't imagine how she heard, unless it was Hannah or Earle. I don't believe Cliff would talk. But Hannah might, and especially Earle \u2013 you remember they saw us coming out of the church this afternoon.\"\"\nThey probably put two and two together.\n\"Well, suppose they did? You told this Mrs. whatever her name is that there was no truth in the story, didn't you?\" Something of Julia's distrait air left her at the sound of Marie's clipped, cold voice. \"Yes, of course,\" she said. \"Of course I told her there was nothing in it. Then I began to think how awful - once these rumors start, you know how rapidly they spread. I began to think how terrible it would be for Judd and Lora if the truth got out. I mean if it leaked out that they had obtained a marriage license and that we'd stopped the wedding.\"\n\n\"It won't,\" Marie Harcott said. \"I don't see how it can- and what if it does? I guess we can survive a little village gossip-\"\n\n\"I'm not thinking of us, but of them- of Judd and Lora. You know how young people are- how cruel.\"\n\"If their friends find out the truth, they'll make our children's lives miserable.\" \"They won't find out from me. You needn't worry about that!\" Julia read the sneering implication in that perfectly, but she said, without changing her voice, \"I'm not. But I think we ought to prevent their finding it out at all, if we can. I think we can if you're willing to\u2014 to pretend a little.\" \"Pretend?\" \"My husband and I decided tonight that Lora should go back to New York with him tomorrow. The sooner they're separated, the sooner they'll forget each other, of course. But I think if we could postpone that a day or two and put on a little act first, we could stop this gossip\u2014kind of, well, save their pride.\" \"I don't know what you mean by putting on an act,\" Marie said. \"Judd and I are leaving tomorrow. I quite agree that the sooner they're separated\u2014 \"\n\"But don't you see that isn't going to stop the gossip? Everyone knows we opposed their going together\u2014Mrs. Welles mentioned that over the phone\u2014and that makes the story just that much more credible. But, if we denied it\u2014not with words but by appearing friendly\u2014\u201cShe stopped, drew her hands out of her pockets, lifted them in a little shy, beseeching gesture. We should be able to do that\u2014for one evening, don't you think? You see, I thought I might give a little party at the club\u2014announce the engagement. By doing that we would take all the mystery out of the affair. People couldn't say we'd stopped the marriage if we did that.\"\n\n\"There's something in that, mother,\" Bailey Harcott said. He had kept his eyes on Julia Paris's face as she talked, an attentive frown between his grizzly eyebrows.\n\"I can see Mrs. Paris's point. It'll be hard on Judd if this thing leaks out. His friends will kid the life out of him. It might be a darn good idea to throw a little party, publicly announce the engagement\u2014\", \"Nonsense! You're exaggerating this thing out of all proportion. I'm hardly in the mood to give a party\u2014\", \"Neither am I,\" Julia said, standing up. Her face was crimson, her eyes blazing. \"But I'd be willing to make the effort for the children's sakes. I'm as eager to have this affair broken off as you are but I don't want to break their hearts and their lives and that's what we're going to do if we don't go a little more slowly and carefully. We've got to think of their future\u2014\", \"That is what I am doing,\" Marie Harcott said, breathing hard with her effort to remain calm.\nI'm taking Judd with me in the morning! She turned her back on Julia and ostentatiously opened the door. I must ask you to excuse me. I have a great many things to attend to.\n\nJulia's crimson cheeks went white. She crossed the room swiftly. At the door, she lifted her blazing eyes to Marie Harcott's face. \"Very well. And if my daughter ever lays eyes on your son after tonight, it will not be my fault. You may be quite sure of that!\" She hurried out and Marie closed the door and leaned against it. Her husband said, \"I'm inclined to think you were wrong there, mother\u2014\"\n\n\"Oh, you are! You think I was wrong, do you? Do you know why? Because you're blind! Don't you see why she came here? Can't you realize what she's trying to do with all that noble talk? She was simply trying to cement this business\u2014make it almost impossible.\"\nOnce he was away from the house, Judd's steps quickened, and he was running. Even so, his thoughts were ahead of him, already reaching out for Lora. He had never wanted her quite like this, and both were young. Never had he needed her so badly, her trusting hand in his, her eyes restoring him to his normal stature. A full east wind was blowing in from the sea, and Judd ran with his head lowered so that he did not see Cliff until he was almost upon him.\n\nCliff shouted, \"Hey, what's the rush?\"\n\nJudd slowed up long enough to say, \"Hi, fella! Be seeing you\u2014\" and would have gone on but Cliff grabbed his arm.\n\n\"Just a minute, wait a minute! What's all this about you and Lora?\"\n\nJudd stopped then, peered at Cliff's lean, dark face, \"What do you mean 'all this'?\"\n\"Judd, are you and Lora married?\"\n\"Heavens, no! Where did you hear that? But I'll tell you a secret \u2014 not that it'll be a secret long \u2014 we are engaged.\"\n\"You are! But what \u2014 listen, I never heard of a couple having to go to church to get engaged.\"\n\"No? In which case I draw my own conclusions.\"\nJudd's voice rasped angrily. \"Well, you're drawing them wrong this time. Lora and I are not married.\"\n\"Then what were you, and all the papas and mammas and the parson, doing at the church this afternoon?\"\n\"What business is it of yours what we were doing?\"\nCliff made him an ironic bow. \"None. My mistake!\" and started away.\nBut Cliff was his best friend. Judd reached out and hauled him back. \"I'm sorry, Cliff\u2014 I'm kind of jittery tonight. As a matter of fact, we thought we might get married\u2014 then we changed our minds, decided to wait a year, but\u2014 well, naturally we don't want that broadcast.\"\n\nCliff said nothing for a moment, the two stood there in the windy darkness, facing each other, awkward and constrained. Then Cliff said, \"That's too bad. Hannah saw the\u2014 er\u2014 party, too. And Earle. I can fix it with Earle all right, but you know gals.\"\n\n\"Tell them we're engaged. That'll leave them something to chew on.\"\n\n\"Okay. But what about the church? That looks suspicious, you know.\"\n\nJudd gnawed his lip. \"Tell them we were taking the old folks sightseeing\u2014 historic New England church\u2014that sort of thing.\"\n\n\"Okay,\" Cliff said again. \"By the way, congratulations.\"\nJudd hurried off, feeling the moisture oozing from his palms and fire on his cheeks. Thank God it had been too dark for Cliff to see that. But he had seen enough - Earle, Hannah. He didn't mind Earle so much, never had liked him, didn't care what he thought. But Hannah was different, a nice girl. Even nice girls, however, were gossips. If she didn't believe Cliff's story, the news of their 'elopement' would be all over town by morning. That wouldn't be so bad if they'd really pulled it off. He realized suddenly how much worse the truth would sound. An elopement that actually came off had at least the dignity of melodrama. But this was just farce. This would make them laugh their heads off. And Lora would have to be around and hear them doing it while he...\nJudd was on his way to Cleveland, but they would say he had run away. He came blindly up against the low picket gate before the Paris cottage. His courage failed him as he suddenly realized he must face Lora's father and mother. It took more than physical effort for him to lift the gate latch. But he had only made it halfway up the walk when George's voice hailed him from the porch.\n\n\"That you, Judd? Come along in!\" Judd replied, \"Evening, sir!\" and mounted the steps. \"Is Lora around?\"\n\n\"Yes, she's inside somewhere,\" George's voice was neither friendly nor unfriendly. \"I'll see if I can find her.\"\n\nHe got up and went in. Judd heard him climbing the stairs, calling, \"Lora, oh, Lora, Judd's here!\"\nAnd Judd took out his handkerchief and mopped his face. Lora had taken off the white dress. She was wearing something soft and flowery, her throat and arms were bare. Judd got to his feet when she came out and said, \"Hello, darling!\" They had the right now to greet each other as an engaged couple, but they stopped a foot apart, saying nothing until Lora shivered and said, \"It's getting cold, isn't it?\" \"Can I get something to put around you?\" \"Oh, no. I'm not that cold.\" He reached out suddenly and took her in his arms. She was all he remembered, slim and soft and warm, faintly fragrant. But there was a difference. Her hands did not cling, as they used to do, behind his head, her lips were passive under his. He held her close and thought his heart would break. \"Lora, darling-darling! I've been wanting you so.\"\nShe moved gently out of his arms and across to the wide, cushioned swing. \"Let's sit down, shall we?\" He went and stood beside her. \"Lora! Is anything wrong, dear?\" And Both Were Young\n\n\"No. Nothing special\u2014 I'm just tired, I guess. I've been packing.\"\n\n\"Packing!\"\n\n\"We're going back to New York tomorrow\u2014 dad and I.\" He sat down beside her. \"To New York!\" His first thought was that now he need not tell her that he was leaving, too. \"Tomorrow, dearheart! How does that happen?\"\n\n\"Dad and mother think we'd better\u2014 we were going soon anyway and now\u2014 something has happened\u2014.\"\n\n\"What? Not\u2014 Lora, tell me!\"\n\nShe looked down at her interlocked fingers. \"Well, someone\u2014 that woman who writes things for the New York papers, you know\u2014 called mother up. She said she'd heard we were married\u2014 she wanted to know if the story was true so she could send it off to the papers.\"\n\"He drew her against him, held her close. \"Is that all?\" he asked, relieved. She nodded. \"I was afraid - I thought it might be something serious.\" \"This is serious,\" she replied. \"Mother had to explain, and she couldn't think what to say.\" \"What does it matter?\" he asked, dismissively. \"An old gossip of a newspaper hound!\" With the story dying down, they both planned to leave. \"What does anything matter now that everything's all right between us?\" he asked, reminding her they were engaged. She nodded again. \"I'm going to drive mother back to Cleveland, so I've decided to get your ring there. And Lora, if I can get back east in time, I could run down to New York and bring it to you. Maybe we could have a little celebration before college opens.\" \"That would be grand.\"\"\n\"Of course, it would be lots better if you could be along to pick it out, darling\u2014 the ring, I mean. But you know what I\u2019m going to do? I\u2019m going to Freeman\u2019s\u2014 he\u2019s the best jeweler in Cleveland\u2014 and tell them I want the swellest engagement ring in the place for the swellest girl in the world!\n\n\"That\u2019ll cost you money.\"\n\n\"Pooh! What\u2019s money!\n\nBut it was no use. They reminded Judd of his old roadster on a long hill. You gave it everything you had, but even at that, it barely made the grade.\n\nThe wind came rioting up from the sea, whipping the trees into cowering shapes, flapping the awnings at the windows, warning the Harbor that it would soon be in possession here. Lora rested, lax and boneless in Judd's arms, and as impassive. And Judd held her without passion. They were both wrung dry of emotion.\"\nLora lifted her head. \"I'd better go in, Judd. There's so much to do and Dad says he wants an early start.\"\n\nJudd bent his head and looked into her face. The light from the window showed her to him clearly for the first time that night: very pale, eyes sunk deep in purple hollows, the soft mouth drooping, the dazed, blank look of a lost child.\n\n\"Darling, you're not\u2014 you're all right, Lora?\" Judd asked.\n\n\"Of course. Only all this\u2014\" she stopped and lifted her hands and dropped them with a little laugh. \"I know\u2014 it's been pretty awful but it really is better this way, isn't it?\" She nodded slowly and he said, \"If we'd gone through with it, we'd probably have regretted it all our lives.\"\n\nShe looked away from him, at the trees writhing in the wind.\n\"Julia swiftly came through the gate and up the porch steps. \"Hello, are you two out here in the cold? May I sit down?\" Judd stood up, faced her nervously. Julia's voice was impersonal and friendly. \"I've just been chatting with your mother, Judd.\" She sat down in a rocker, Judd took his place beside Lora again, felt for her hand. \"We've been talking things over. I had to explain why we couldn't wait to celebrate your engagement. Have you told Judd you're leaving tomorrow, Lora?\" Neither Judd nor Lora spoke and Julia cleared her throat. \"We realize what happened today, but we were at fault too. Now, we don't want to make any...\"\nLora's fingers went taut in Judd's. \"You said we could be engaged, Mother!\"\n\n\"Yes, of course. But marriage is a more serious matter. I'm afraid neither of you realize this or you wouldn't have - but that's all over. Judd, what I'm trying to say is that both your mother and I think you and Lora would be in a better position to know your true feelings if you didn't see each other for a while. Until after the Christmas holidays, anyway-\"\n\n\"That isn't long, and it will give you a truer perspective- give you a chance to see things more clearly. And then, too, this last year in college is going to be a hard one for you. Lora must realize that. You'll have very little time-\"\n\n\"Plenty of men are engaged their senior year and manage just fine.\"\n\"Mrs. Paris, Judd managed to see their girls, he said. \"Your case is a little different, Mrs. Paris,\" her voice rose and sharpened. \"If your affection isn't strong enough to bear a few months' separation, how can you expect it to endure for the rest of your lives?\" She waited a moment and then added more quietly, \"In the circumstances, I don't think it's too much to ask of you.\" They both heard the reproach in that, recognized the challenge. Judd said, \"I'm agreeable to that, if Lora is.\" His voice was full and strong. \"We don't have to be separated to know our true feelings for each other, but if it'll prove anything to you, I guess we can stand it\u2014 can't we, darling?\" \"Yes, I\u2014 I guess we can stand it all right,\" Lora said. \"After six, the era of Emperor Hadrian, Professor Shore said in his deep, rich voice, 'was one of the transformations.' \"\nThe era was one of quality and prosperity; it was also an era of luxury, such as we so-called moderns have never known. Outside the classroom windows, the campus was turning gold and crimson. The late October day was warm as July, the windows were open to the chirp of birds and the spicy smell of burning leaves. An occasional bee blundered inside and, maddened perhaps by the atmosphere of learning, almost battered itself to a pulp in an effort to get out again. Plump little Lois Amot, who had eaten her own and Lora's dessert at lunch, held her eyelids open with two fat fingers and stared with tipsy intensity at Professor Shore. Joan Hudson was composing a limerick with that expression of grave absorption which had moved the Professor to pronounce her the most attentive student in his class.\n\n\"The Roman of the Second Century of the Christian Era\"\nAnd they were young, Joan finished her limerick, palmed it expertly and dropped it in Lora's lap. \"There was an old gent so pedantic, He drove his poor class simply frantic, So they took him one day For a sail down the bay, And dropped him into the Atlantic.\" Lora flashed her approval to Joan and passed the limerick on to Martha Franks. Martha read it sternly and slipped it to Clara Revere. Lora drew a wire-haired terrier on her notebook and automatically absorbed the surprising information that the Romans of the Second Century had running water in their bedrooms. Not that Lora found it surprising. It just wasn't important. In a long talk.\nLora had been warned by the Dean a couple of days prior, \"The price of inattention is failure.\" She tried to be attentive, having been an honor student the previous year. But a year ago, she had been eager to learn. If she received a paper with a bare \"Passing\" on it, she would storm and bone up, only to be rewarded with a red \"Excellent\" on the next. Her marks had been of vital importance to her. This year, she barely glanced at her returned class papers, and she sometimes thought, with a pang that was half bitter, half tender, of the naive girl she had been a year ago.\n\n90 And Both Were Young\n\nLora swallowed a yawn and looked lazily at her ring. The sun drew all the colors of the rainbow from the small, square diamond. It was small, but it was perfect. Perfect as the girl who was to wear it.\nLora had received Judd's gallant letter the day after her engagement was announced: \"Mr. and Mrs. George Paris announce the engagement of their daughter, Lora, to Mr. Judd Harcott, son of Mr. and Mrs. Bailey Harcott of Cleveland. No date has been set for the wedding.\" Everything was in order now. Lora's friends were thrilled, and she knew she should be, too. As Judd had cheerfully pointed out in his letter, it was a real victory for them \u2013 Love Triumphant. But victory won at the point of a gun has its disadvantages. Lora could no longer look at her parents without being reminded of that dreadful afternoon in the little country church. She had eagerly anticipated the day she would return to college and welcomed it when it came.\nBut college was not much better. True, the girls who hugged and congratulated her and exclaimed over her ring, did not know the story that lay behind it. That had been a comfort\u2014 but it was her sole comfort. For she found that the life she had so dearly loved last year, the life of chapel and classes and noisy dormitory meals; of twilight walks and shared secrets and midnight feasts and soda fountain romances\u2014 was no longer for her. She had a strange, sad sense of having passed through something that set her apart, of having known emotions that made her ineligible for the innocent, light-hearted campus life. One short summer afternoon had made all the difference.\n\nHer classmates felt something of this. They said, \"What's come over Lora Paris!\" Some of them said, \"She's just gone snooty because she's engaged\u2014\".\nLora, no one could call snooty. Her golden hair shone under gilded trees, and her bare legs were as golden where they showed between her woolen anklets and tweed skirt. She looked the same, yet changed. Her eyes held a faraway, waiting look, and she acted grown-up, never wanting to have fun, just sat and read or wandered off by herself.\n\nWhen they left Professor Shore's class, Lora, Joan, and Lois walked back to the dormitory together where they all lived. Joan asked Lora, \"How did you like my limerick?\"\n\n\"It was grand,\" Lora replied.\n\nLois sighed and reached into her pocket for a caramel. \"I don't see how you think of them, Jo. You must have genius or something\u2014want a caramel?\"\n\"Joan said, \"No, you don't,\" and snatched the candy. \"If you continue like this, you'll be rolling instead of walking by the time you're thirty!\" Lois reached for another caramel but before she could get the paper off, a girl stood before them. She was a small, sharp-faced girl with very bright black eyes and she was looking at Lora. \"You're Lora Paris, aren't you?\" Lora admitted and the sharp-eyed girl said, \"Isn't that funny? I know you from Hannah's description. Hannah Vines, you know? I had a letter from her this morning and she told me you were here and said to look you up.\" The girl arched her plucked brows. \"I was kind of scared to. I was afraid you wouldn't want to be bothered with a dinky little freshman.\"\"\nElsie, whose name it was, talked in a high, sharp voice. There was something incredibly quick and sharp in her bright, black eyes as well. She reminded Lora of an alert little hen. But Lora had been a freshman herself and remembered how grateful she had been for a kind word from an upperclassman. So she introduced her to Joan, who told her she was glad to see her, and to Lois, who promptly gave her a caramel and ate one herself.\n\nWhen they had managed to shake her, Joan said in her dry, boyish way, \"Well, little Elsie will get along fine if she doesn't fall down and cut herself on all that edge one of these days.\"\n\nLora smiled. \"She's just got the freshman jitters.\"\n\n\"Too bad she had to be wished on you. Who's this friend Hannah?\"\n\n\"Hannah Vines. She's sweet. She comes up to Forks Harbor in the summer,\" Lora replied.\nForgot Elsie, Joan, Lois, and the campus. Just the mention of the Harbor brought it all back so vividly - the beach and the sea, the Reckless rocking at her buoy, and Cliff and Judd swinging along the sand. \"She's young, but the little thing has possibilities,\" Cliff had informed Judd that day. Her throat ached with remembering.\n\nBut the weekends were the hardest. The campus was all but deserted. Virtually every engaged girl in college was enjoying a romantic interlude with her man, while every unengaged girl with the smallest pretense to charm had a prospect of some sort in tow. All Lora had were Judd's letters. She had one with her the Friday night after Elsie's adventure. She walked out to her favorite meadow and sat down under her favorite tree to watch the moon rise and think of Judd.\n\"moon was so clear and bright that she could read the letter by its light. She had already read it a dozen times, knew parts of it by heart:\n\n\"the longest weeks I've ever lived through. I don't see how I'm going to stand it, darling. I suppose it's good for my character, though. If it would net me an extra credit or two I wouldn't mind so much\u2014 I'll be needing all I can get at this rate\u2014 just can't seem to rouse the old brain\u2014''\n\nJudd was finding it hard, too, this dreary pursuit of knowledge. Her lips curved in a tender little grin at the thought.\n\n\"darling, darling, if I could see you, even for five minutes. But I expect we can't be too greedy. Now that we've pulled off our grand coup we'll have to show them we deserve it\u2014''\n\nThey mustn't be too greedy. They must remember\"\nShe went back to the dormitory late. Her soft-soled shoes made no sound on the tiled corridor floor. She was glad many of the room doors were open. If anyone saw her, they would want to know where she had been and what she had been doing. She would have to hear about someone's latest conquest, someone else mention Judd, ask why he never came to see her. They had begun to make jokes about him, pretend there was no such person or that she was ashamed of him \u2013 that he was wall-eyed or lisped. Most had seen Judd's picture on her desk.\nShe reached her room safely tonight. Upon entering, she saw Joan's door ajar. Joan had the room next to Lora's, and she was evidently entertaining guests tonight. Lora could hear Lois Amot's voice, muffled as usual with candy, and another she recognized as Elsie Hammond's. She couldn't help smiling as she thought of Lois and Joan trying to be polite to the \"dinkie little freshie.\" She felt a little guilty, knowing she ought to go in and take Elsie off their hands. But that was the last thing she wanted to do. While she hesitated there with her finger on her light switch, she heard the sharp, piping treble say, \"But it is true. Hannah Vines saw them coming out of the church. She found out afterwards that they had eloped.\"\nIf their families had arrived five minutes later, it would have been too late for both to have the license. Lora let go of the switch and stood in the dark, hearing Joan's scornful voice ask, \"Well, suppose it's true. What of it?\"\n\n\"That's how they happened to be engaged,\" Joan replied. \"They never would have been if it hadn't been for that. Hannah says everyone up there knew his parents were opposed to it.\"\n\n\"Why should they be opposed to it?\" Lora asked.\n\n\"Because they don't think she's good enough for Judd. They never had any intention of letting him marry her. Her parents know that, and they're just as much against it as the Harcotts. Don't you see it was just a trick to get them apart?\"\n\nLois, whose mental processes and little legs could never quite keep in step, suddenly interjected, \"But how silly! I mean, if they'd gone to all the trouble...\"\n\"trouble getting the license and everything\u2014I mean, it looks so silly!\u201d Elsie said. \"Well, it\u2019s one way of getting your man if you can\u2019t get him any other way. But she didn\u2019t get him and she never will. He hasn\u2019t been near her all this autumn, has he? And he hasn\u2019t taken her up to Haverton. He won\u2019t, either. Hannah says his mother has taken an apartment in New York and Judd\u2019s there every weekend and she keeps the place simply swarming with girls\u2014\" Lora softly closed her door. She groped her way through the dark to her bed and sat down, shaking and terribly nauseated. She pressed her hands hard against her ears to shut out the sound of Elsie\u2019s voice, but it seemed only to be shutting herself in with that shrill, triumphant piping. They never would have been engaged\u2014it\u2019s one way of getting your man.\"\n\"They hadn't let her marry him. She had known they were being tricked that day. Something had warned her, which was why she had screamed in the church and why she would have defied them all and married Judd then. She wasn't afraid of the future. It couldn't have been so mean - so inglorious and humiliating as this. Tomorrow it would be all over the campus - probably already. She would be the laughingstock of the entire college. It looked so awful. They had bought her off with false promises and a pretty little diamond ring. Only the announcement in the paper had been honest. No date had been set for the wedding.\"\nShe sat on the bed, her hands clenched, eyes blazing in the darkness. A trick! But Judd hadn't seen through it because he had a gentle, trusting heart. Suddenly, she sprang up and turned on the light over her desk. She looked at the clock and saw that it was not yet ten. The drugstore would still be open. But she might not be able to reach Judd by phone. A telegram would be better, surer. She sat down and scribbled her message:\n\n\"Come tomorrow. I must see you. Quite all right to disregard your promise. Will explain why when you come. If you do not wire me, will meet you in tearoom at one tomorrow.\"\n\nAt breakfast the next morning, Joan and Lois were unusually silent. Lora knew what a strain this must be for poor Lois, who had all the secretiveness of a fox.\nBut Joan had scared Lora into silence, and Lora was so touched by Lois's round, pink face that she passed over her own scrambled eggs out of pity.\n\nJoan said, disgusted, \"There you go! She's had enough\u2014 look at her! She's bursting with food. Why can't you eat your own breakfast?\"\n\nLora laughed. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes brilliant. \"I'm not hungry\u2014 too excited. Judd's coming today.\"\n\nLois choked and Joan pounded her on the back. \"I told you she'd had enough, she's just pushing it down! Judd, darling? Swell! When's he coming?\"\n\n\"For lunch\u2014 at least I think he is.\" She had not meant to tell so soon. He might not come. Something might happen. \"I'm almost certain\u2014 I'll know for sure sometime this morning.\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nNo wire came. Judd's daily letter, written before [illegible]\nHe had received her wire, full of love and longing. To Lora, in a fever of excitement, time moved with exasperating slowness.\n\nAt noon, on her way to telephone the tearoom for a table, she ran into Joan who took one look at her friend's face and said, \"Well, I guess that man of yours is coming, all right.\"\n\n\"I guess he is,\" Lora said.\n\n\"Goody! I'm all prepared. Let's see, six and a half feet tall, the shoulders of a Viking, the sex appeal of Franchot Tone\u2014,\"\n\n\"Oh, shut up!\" Joan knew perfectly well what Judd looked like, having seen his picture on Lora's dressing table every day for six weeks. \"If you want to meet him, you might be lunching at the tearoom about one, darling.\"\n\n\"Who'll pay the check? Oh, well, I might even pay my own for a look at that Leslie Gable of yours.\"\n\nAnd she made a mental note to see that Elsie was present.\nLora was informed of Judd's coming. \"That ought to shut her up,\" she thought. Half the upper classmen lunched at the Tavern Tea Room on Saturdays. They reserved their tables in advance to keep as many freshmen away as possible, keeping them in their place. Lora engaged a table near the big stone fireplace and ordered Judd's favorite luncheon\u2014 kidney chops and baked potato, sliced tomatoes, and lemon meringue pie. A lunch for a king\u2014 a lunch for Hay's prince! October was behaving more like its near neighbor, November, that day. The air was clear and sharp. The first frost had been at work on the trees overnight; they were like great bouquets of gold and fire. Lora wore her new rust knitted dress and tweed swagger coat with its flaring blue fox collar. She spent nearly an hour dressing, brushing her hair, and adjusting it.\nLora adjusted her little brown felt sports hat to the proper angle. The tearoom was crowded when she arrived. Many men as well as girls, today. Men up from Boston, New York, New Haven to see their own particular girl. Great yellow chrysanthemums bloomed against fur collars. The place was alive with exuberant voices and laughter, the clatter of dishes; logs crackled gaily in the deep fireplace, even the starched little waitresses carried their trays with smiling ease. Lora smiled, too, waved in this direction and that as she made her way toward her own table. Men stole quick, interested glances at the girl whose face looked so clear and vivid that she might have been moving in some invisibly operated spotlight. She had run her eyes over the parked cars outside in search of Judd\u2019s familiar roadster. It was a long drive. She could not expect to see it.\nShe drew off her gloves and sat down at a small table over against the wall. Elsie and three other freshmen, along with an elderly woman, were also present. Elsie called out, \"Hi, Lora!\" and addressed the elderly woman, who glanced over in time to catch the tail end of Lora's smile.\n\n\"Shall I serve luncheon now, Miss?\" the elderly woman asked.\n\n\"Not till my guest comes, please,\" she replied, keeping her eye on the door.\n\nTall men and short, dark and fair, little girls with big, tanned, sheepish-looking men, and plain girls with plain, unprepossessing men, all tried to look composed. Some girls were with their brothers, pretending to be someone else's sisters.\n\nThe place was beginning to empty, and Joan and Lois were among those leaving.\nLora's face felt stiff with holding its expression of pleased expectancy. Suddenly, it was radiant. She stood up and waved. Cliff Sidney, standing just inside the doorway, his eyes swinging over the tables, saw her and waved back, hurrying across to her.\n\n\"Cliff, darling! I'm so glad to see you! But why didn't you tell me you were coming along? Where's Judd? Is he having an awful time finding a place to park? I'll get the waitress to set another place.\"\n\n\"Darling, if I'd known you were coming, I'd have had a lovely woman for you.\"\n\n\"Never mind about another place. Can I sit here? You see, Judd couldn't make it, so I\u2014\"\n\nShe sat down and Cliff sat opposite in Judd's chair. She could feel the stab of eyes from a dozen different directions.\n\"I thought I'd come along and explain. I just blew myself a new car and I wanted to see how she'd behave,\" Cliff said, making his smile as wide as possible and his eyes big with welcome. He motioned the waitress to start serving.\n\n\"That was darling of you, Cliff. I'm so glad to see you,\" she replied.\n\n\"I'm glad to see you, too. You're looking swell,\" he responded.\n\n\"You don't look so bad yourself. He's all right, isn't he? Judd, I mean? He's not sick or\u2014\"\n\n\"Sick! Gosh, no. He's fine, only\u2014 well, he just couldn't get away. If this is the way you're going to feed him when you're married, you'll ruin the guy!\"\n\nWhen they were married, her heart flopped over. She smiled into Cliff's eyes, dark blue set in his dark, lean, intelligent face. Dark straight hair brushed close to his head, a kind of bandbox freshness about him that had distinguished him from the others.\nboys even when he was Hay's age. Lora remembered how Cliff had proved that a little boy having courteous manners and a clean face didn't make him a sissy, using Earle's face for demonstration purposes.\n\nHe returned Lora's smile now and she leaned a little across the table. \"Why couldn't Judd come, Cliff?\"\n\n\"Huh? Oh. I guess this is the answer to that.\" He fished a letter out of his pocket and handed it over. \"He was afraid you wouldn't get it today if he mailed it, so I offered to play postman.\"\n\n\"Thanks, darling.\"\n\nShe laid the letter beside her plate and he said, \"Go ahead and read it if you like. I'm going to be pretty busy for the next few minutes.\"\n\nBut she shook her head, smiling. \"It can wait\u2014 I'm hungry, too.\"\n\nThey ate and chatted lightly. Once Lora caught sight of...\nJoan's puzzled eyes grinned cheerily at her. Cliff didn't mention Judd again. He talked about The Reckless, chiefly. It seemed she needed some new something-or-others and it was going to cost a lot to buy them. He and Judd ought to scrap her, he said, and buy a seaworthy tub.\n\n\"You know you couldn't do that!\" he said.\n\n\"It'd be a darn sight more sensible than spending a lot of money on her\u2014 but you can't be sensible about a boat, somehow,\" Joan replied.\n\nJoan and Lois, as well as Elsie and her party, had gone. The tearoom was more than half empty when their coffee was served. Over it, Cliff said, \"How about taking a drive in my new bus? I'd kind of like to see the points of interest.\"\n\n\"All the best ones have their men up for the weekend, I'm afraid,\" Lora said.\n\nCliff was referring to the flora, not the men.\nfauna and they were both laughing gaily as they went out. Lora told him where to go and they followed a narrow road through a little wood all carpeted with golden leaves and came to an open place with a peaceful valley below them and gentle hills beyond. There Cliff parked his new car and smoked a cigarette while Lora read her letter.\n\nIt was a long letter but it did not take Lora long to read it. When she had finished, she folded and replaced it in its envelope. Cliff gazed through smoke at the distant hills. \"Judd thought there might be something special you wanted to see him about, so I told him I'd do what I could to- kind of- substitute for him.\"\n\nLora turned the letter over and over in her fingers. \"Thanks, Cliff. You- I guess you know what's in this, don't you?\"\n\n\"I've been too well brought up to read other people's mail.\"\nAnd they were both young. He said, \"I've received pie's letters. Besides, there wasn't a tea kettle handy.\" She did not smile. \"I guess you know what's in it. You know the reason he couldn't come today was because he promised he wouldn't see me at all until the holidays and he doesn't want to break his promise.\" He said easily, \"Well, you know how that is\u2014 at least you will know when you grow up to be a senior. Judd has a lot of boning to do\u2014 the last year is the hardest.\" She looked straight at him. \"You're a senior, too, but you could manage to get away\u2014\" \"Yeah\u2014 I mean, that's how parents look at it. You know how parents are. They think romance takes a man's mind off his work.\" Lora shook her head slowly. \"It's not that. They just don't want him to see me again\u2014 ever.\"\nShe didn't mean to marry him if she could prevent it. \"Don't talk foolish,\" he chided. \"We're engaged, aren't we?\" She looked down at her ring, turning it in the sunlight. \"No, we're not. That was just a trick. I knew it was that day.\" She gave him a wry smile. \"I didn't know the real reason why Judd's people objected to me then, but I knew they were tricking us. Judd must know by now.\"\n\n\"You're being morbid,\" he protested as she took a small square box out of her purse and slipped the ring off her finger. \"Look,\" she said, showing him the box. \"I saved it. Wasn't that thoughtful of me?\"\n\"Lora? It\u2019ll be easier for you to carry\u2014\n\"Lora! Don\u2019t be a little nut! What do you mean, you brought it along\u2014must you give it to him for me, Cliff?\" Cliff turned and took her hard by the shoulders.\n\"Do you realize what you\u2019re doing, Lora Paris? Do you realize that Judd loves you! He\u2019s\u2014\"\n\"Oh, no he doesn\u2019t! He\u2019d have come today if he had!\"\n\"How could he? A promise is a promise.\"\n\"No, it isn\u2019t\u2014not when it\u2019s dragged out of you by a mean, dishonest trick.\"\n\"You\u2019re acting like an impetuous kid, Lora. And remember, you almost got yourself in a mess once by\u2014\"\n\"Almost got ourselves in a mess!\"\n\"Well, this isn\u2019t as bad as that.\" She whirled on him savagely. \"How do you know it would have been bad! How does anyone know! We\u2019d have had each other at least!\" She looked\"\n\"And we'd had something else\u2014something we'll never have again. We were sure then. We'll never be sure again. It's terrible to lose that, Cliff,\" Lora said, quickly and tremulously.\n\n\"Being sure about things is one of the penalties of being young,\" he replied. \"You haven't any past to draw on.\"\n\n\"No, only the future,\" Lora responded. \"And no sense in trying to reach out and grab it before it's ripe.\"\n\n\"This is all over. I'm not trying to grab the future now. I'm giving Judd's back to him\u2014all free and unencumbered,\" she nodded and laughed a little.\n\nCliff knew in his heart that this was what he had been hoping for all along. This affair had been a terrible blow to him, knocking his and Judd's postgraduate plans into a cocked hat. He had come close to hating Lora for that. But now he looked at her.\nand compassion pinched his heart. He looked at the little face that had been part of as many summers as he could recall. Such a sweet, merry little face it had been, shining-eyed and eager. Today all the sweetness, all the light and youth had gone. Burning eyes, unhealthy flares of fire in her cheeks, the young mouth mutinous and bitter.\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nCliff heard himself saying, \"I don't think you can do that, darling. I doubt if you can give Judd's future back to him free and unencumbered.\"\n\n\"I can try,\" she said. \"Do you think I'm going on being engaged to him like this\u2014 knowing it doesn't mean anything. Being the joke of the century! It's like being given a title without any of the privileges \u2014and I've already got one title.\" She laughed. \"It's a honey of a title. You know, I'm that Girl Who Almost Eloped.\"\nV Saturday was the longest day Judd had ever known. His thoughts followed Cliff every mile. He thought, \"Now he's at Middletown\u2014,\" then, \"He must be near Wilma by this time\u2014,\" and finally, \"He ought to be there now.\" That was at one, and after that, he tried not to think of either Cliff or Lora, tried to work.\n\nWhen he had telephoned his mother that he couldn't get into town that week, he had used that as an excuse. Said he had to stick around and work off some conditions. Those conditions were real enough, but his mother had sounded disappointed. \"I've some people coming to dinner especially to meet you, darling. Hannah will be here, too.\" He said he was sorry but he couldn't possibly make it. That was the worst of having her in town. Oh, it was pleasant enough in some respects and he couldn't deny that, but...\nShe blamed her for wanting a winter in New York, desiring a little life, and wanting to see new plays while they were still new. And she had been quite nice, giving him a party nearly every weekend because she knew he was lonely.\n\nNo, and Both Were Young\n\nShe couldn't know that he didn't always feel like a party, that he didn't always feel like courting some strange girl. When he had mentioned that, she had arranged for him to meet Hannah Vines. Hannah was pretty, and she didn't mind hearing Judd talk about her.\n\nJudd had never known how much Hannah knew about that affair at the church. Unlike Earle Gracie, who had also been in Cliff's car that day, she had never spoken of it. Judd thought that was pretty decent of her. He hoped she wouldn't mind about tonight\u2014 but that was sheer egotism. Hannah had\nMore men on her books than she could use up in a year. At two, Judd went out and wandered over to Tony's Diner for a dish of spaghetti. He was in no mood for conversation and Tony\u2019s was almost sure to be deserted on a Saturday. But as he came abreast of the famous little diner, Earle Grade's opulent cream and blue roadster with Earle at the wheel and two other men crowded in beside him, swooped in to the curb.\n\nEarle said loudly, \"Well, if it isn't Mister Harcott!\"\n\nJudd lifted his hand in salute, said, \"Hello, Gracie!\" and kept right on going.\n\nBut Earle was in one of his boisterously facetious moods. He called, \"What's your hurry, Judd\u2014 going to church?\" as a small boy might hurl a challenging snowball at an enemy's rear.\n\nJudd half-stopped, the hot color rushing into his cheeks, then he said, \"Yeah,\" and hurried on.\nHe knew Earle didn't really want to fight; he doubted if he would, in a showdown. He merely wanted an excuse to spill what he knew or thought he knew. He had been maneuvering for this opportunity for the past six weeks, and Judd had often cursed the fate that had chosen the rich, loud, brash Earle Gracie as a witness to his retreat from the church on that fateful summer day.\n\nEarle and Judd had been classmates for three years but had never been friends. Cliff tolerated him because they had both spent their summers at the Harbor since childhood. Judd had merely ignored him. But he had been difficult to ignore this year. The first day the two had met on campus, Earle had greeted him loudly with, \"Hey, Judd, how about going on a little sightseeing trip today? I know where you can find some dandy historic churches.\"\nJudd had grinned and pretended not to understand. But never after that did he meet Judd without some facetious reference to a church. Judd avoided him whenever possible, but there were times, days like today when his nerves were on edge with longing for Lora, with wondering and worrying, that his hands itched for Earle's throat. He went back to his room without having lunched and set to work on an overdue philosophy paper. Philosophy indeed! When all he could think of was Lora. \"Quite all right to disregard your promise,\" she had assured him in her wire. That did not sound like Lora. Something had happened, what could have happened? He jabbed his fisted hand into his cheek and bent over his paper. He wrote, \"Aristotle and the First Philosophy\"\u2014and stared out of his window at the dusty, wrinkled leaves on an ancient elm. His mind said:\n\"There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,\" Mister Aristotle, Shakespeare wrote. Love was present. Its origin, its destination, why ecstasy, why torture - who knew, who cared, as long as it existed. And it was a strange paradox, more torture than ecstasy. A year ago, he had been a contented man with a light heart. Now, he sat, as he had for hours upon endless hours these past weeks, immersed in misery. \"Hell!\" he exclaimed aloud, looking at the clock and lighting a cigarette. Cliff should be back by now or soon. He was expected by seven, or eight at the latest.\n\nIt was close to nine when Cliff arrived. Judd was in his shirt sleeves, his dark trousers dusty.\nCliff entered the room, ashes from countless cigarettes filling his ashtrays on the desk. \"Well, it\u2019s about time! Where have you been \u2013 Canada?\" he asked, tossing his hat onto a chair and sitting down.\n\nJudd stood over him. \"Well, how was she? Did you give her my letter \u2013 you saw her, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, I saw her. Pull yourself together. You're behaving like an old woman.\" Judd grumbled, but Cliff perched himself on the desk with long legs swinging. \"What was the trouble? She's all right, isn't she?\"\n\nCliff hesitated, an unusual sign for him with his clear and deliberate mental processes. \"Yes, she's all right \u2013 that is, she's perfectly well. But she...\" He reached into his pocket for the little jeweler's box and held it out. \"She sent this back \u2013 I tried \u2013 naturally.\"\nI didn't want to bring it up. Hell, why don't you do your own dirty work! Judd stared stupidly at the box. What's that? he asked, reaching for it. He snapped it open and looked at the little square diamond in its velvet bed. Then he looked across at Cliff. What did she want to do that for?\n\nHow do I know? Dammit, why does anyone do anything? She doesn't want it, I suppose! His voice scraped harshly. Lora's face was still fresh in his mind, now here was Judd's-his best friend's-ravaged by the same, cruel, inexplicable force. She says she doesn't want to wear it-because it doesn't mean anything!\n\nDoesn't mean anything?\n\nI don't know that I blame her. Oh, I don't blame you, either. It's just a-a mess! You better forget it. Judd was staring again.\nAt the little ring, Cliff jumped up and went to him, laying a hand on his shoulder. \"I'm sorry, fellow \u2014 God knows, I'm sorry. I used to think I'd be glad if this happened, but I'm not. I'd do anything I could to make it right\u2014 but I guess nobody can do that. It's just one of those things.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Judd said. \"It's just one of those things.\" He closed the box and gave Cliff a sickly grin. \"Let's have it\u2014 what happened?\"\n\nSo Cliff told him as accurately as he could, what had happened, the things Lora had said. Judd listened quietly, turning the fragile box over and over in his strong, brown fingers; occasionally he would nod as though Cliff's words checked with something in his own mind.\n\n\"I imagine what started it was that friend of Hannah's\u2014 some little twerp of a freshman \u2014spilling the beans. I mean about\u2014\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young. 115.\n\"I understand what you mean, Judd said. These things will spread, won't they? You can't blame her for being a little sore. It's bad enough to have a man jilt you at the altar and make a public laughing stock of you, but it must be even harder to discover that he jilted you because you don't move in the Best Circles.\n\nCliff said quickly, \"She doesn't blame you for that part of it.\"\n\n\"No! You mean she believes I didn't see through it? Nobody could believe any grown man could be that much of a moron.\" He leaned over Cliff, chalky-faced, grinning. \"But listen to this and laugh! I thought it was all on the square. So help me, I did! When Mother took that place in town, I actually believed it was because she wanted to see a little New York life. Those nice little parties of hers\"\nWith all the lovely eligible girls sprinkled around, I didn't see through her. He shoved the little box in his pocket and slid off the desk. I had the idea that people considered an engagement a kind of sacred thing. Would you believe that! Cliff said, \"I wouldn't be too hard on your mother. She probably thought it was all for the best, as the dear things say.\" It's a parent's prerogative to cheat its young because naturally, the young don't know what's good for them. His coat was hanging on a chairback. He went over to it and dragged it on, starting for the door. Cliff got up, too, said casually, \"I didn't stop for dinner. You had yours?\" \"Dinner? I don't know \u2013 guess I must have.\"\n\"Judd stopped with his hand on the doorknob. \"I'd rather not join you for a beer and your meal, if you don't mind,\" he said.\n\nCliff replied, \"Any company's better than eating alone. Come on. I'm as empty as your hat.\" Judd saw through Cliff's attempt to coax him. He knew that Cliff didn't want his company any more than Judd wanted Cliff's, but it was an obligation of friendship to support the bereaved. Cliff linked his arm in Judd's, and Judd grinned wryly. \"You might leave me alone to brood a little.\"\n\n\"I might,\" Cliff said. \"In fact, I will after I've had my steak, and you've had your beer. You have no idea what a good beer can be for brooding, my man.\"\n\nBrownie's was known for its steak and French fries.\"\nIt was a small, humble place with panelled walls and checked tablecloths and steins. And Both Were Young\n\nThe place catered chiefly to college men who could afford to pay for their meals in two places and eat only in one. Saturday was not Brownie\u2019s best day, though earlier in the evening the place had been well filled and even now several late and strictly masculine dinner parties lingered over their beer and highballs. They hailed Judd and Cliff when the two came in, and Brownie himself hurried forward to seat them in his best maitre d'hotel manner.\n\nWhen Cliff had given their order, he told Judd, \"You know, I figure I got fourteen miles to the gallon out of that bus today.\"\n\n\"Swell,\" Judd said. In the smoky light, his face looked bony, all hollows and shadows. \"Fourteen\u2014that's something. I see our funny friend Mr. Gracie\"\nCliff is with us tonight - he seems to be trying to attract your attention. Cliff turned and lifted his hand in salute to the four men in a booth across the room, and Earle called, \"C'mon over. Don't be so exclusive.\" Cliff called back, \"Thanks, but I've got a date with a steak. You wouldn't want us.\" Earle said, \"Who's that with you? It wouldn't be Judd Harcott!\" \"No, it's Doctor Dafoe,\" Cliff said in a low voice to Judd, \"What's the matter with him? Did you cut him?\" \"Didn't notice the guy till just now.\" Cliff said, \"Well, better say hello or something. He sounds a little tight to me, more than a little, and Earle's touchy when he's tight.\" Judd drawled, \"You don't say!\" and fixed his eyes on the pink blur that was Earle's face. \"That's too bad.\" Cliff gave him a look, leaned across the table.\n\"Listen, I\u2019ve been thinking about that estimate for reconditioning the Reckless. It\u2019s a devil of a lot of money, Judd. With a few more hundred we could buy a new cruiser. What do you say?\nWhat?\nAbout junking her. Or better still, maybe we could patch her up a little and sell her for a few dollars.\nGood idea, Judd said. He was leaning against the high wooden back of the seat, staring steadily across the room at Earle Grade. I never did like his face, he said. Whose face\u2014 Oh, forget it! The waiter brought his steak and Judd's beer. That smells like it might be good, sure you won't eat, Judd? No, thanks. Judd took a long drink and wiped the foam from his mouth.\nCliff had his back to Earle's table, didn\u2019t see Earle get up and come, not too steadily, across the room.\"\nCliff was saying, \"After all, a boat's like a car, you've got to--\" when he suddenly saw Earle standing there. They were both young.\n\nHe spoke quickly, cordially. \"Hello, there! Sit down!\"\n\nBut Earle was looking at Judd, his round face redder than usual, his jaw thrust out. \"Would you mind telling me just what you're looking at?\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" Judd said, without moving. \"I thought I was looking at you.\"\n\nCliff said, \"Oh, come on-- sit down, Earle. Have a beer on me?\"\n\nBut Earle said to Judd, \"Well, I don't like it. I don't like the way you've been looking at me, Harcott. I thought maybe I'd better tell you I didn't like it.\"\n\nJudd continued to sit there, his ruddy head against the ruddy back of the seat, his eyes half closed, staring indifferently at Earle. \"Oh, skip it, Earle,\" Cliff said. \"Judd's not responsible tonight-- he's feeling unwell.\"\n\"He's just had a tooth pulled. You know how that is?\" Earle said, laughing. \"I thought he had them all pulled last summer. Was it a dentist's office or a church we saw him coming out of?\"\n\nJudd's fingers, locked around the handle of his stein, loosened. He sat up. \"Let him say it, Cliff,\" Judd said quietly. \"He's had something on his mind all this autumn - must have been a strain. Better let him get it off his chest.\"\n\nHe had gotten very deliberately to his feet as he spoke, and Cliff said, \"Sit down - don't act like a fool!\" He turned on Earle. \"If you know what's good for you, you'll beat it, Grade!\"\n\n\"Is that a threat?\" Earle asked, placing both hands on the table.\nI'll go when he apologizes. I'm not used to being stared at as if I were some damn freak.\nJudd said, \"No? That's odd.\"\nEarle's red face turned purple. Cliff was on his feet too, conscious that every man in the place was staring. He saw Brownie come out of the bar and make for them, a set smile on his swarthy face intended to convey the impression that nothing extraordinary was happening. Two of the men at Earle's table had come hurrying over. One of them grasped his arm.\n\"Better skip it, Earle. Old Dingle's over in the corner taking it all in.\"\n\"Old Dingle\" was head of the English department, but the presence of the entire faculty could not have averted the storm now. Earle shook off his friend's hand and shouted, \"He started it, let him apologize! All I did was kid him a little. He's been sore at me.\"\nSince I found out about it,...\nAnd Both Were Young\n\"You've gone far enough, Grade,\" Judd warned him, calmly ominous.\n\"Not as far as you'd like to have gone that day, your mamma caught up with you at the--\"\nJudd placed a hand on the table and hurled it towards him. The impact of the two bodies made a sickening thud. They went down together but were up at once, close locked, a double-headed monster reeling about the small, smoke-filled room, leaving a havoc of overturned tables and broken dishes and spilled beer in its wake. Earle's companions and Cliff followed, clutching and protesting. The other diners, subscribers to the belief that man is not his brother's keeper, flattened themselves against the end wall where they could enjoy the combat in comparative safety.\nBrownie made one or two appeals in his character.\nGentlemen, gentlemen! - a respectable restaurateur, and then reverted to type. Hey, quit that! Whatcha tryin' to do\u2014 wreck my place! Lay off that stuff! Just because you got a little money and go to college\u2014 hey. I\u2019ll call the police!\n\nHe did call the police. He went to the door and sent a series of anguished howls into the night: Help! Murder! Police!\n\nCliff said, \"Judd, for God\u2019s sake!\"\nAnd someone else, \"Pry them apart! Some of you fellows come and help.\"\n\nFor there was no question as to the outcome of that impromptu affray. Earle was a big young man but soft. He fought with rage and terror; Judd fought with skill and a cool and careless zest that was fearful to see. The sound of Earle\u2019s hard breathing tore through the din of breaking dishes and shuffling feet, and then there was another sound, like a knife plunging into flesh.\nThe impact of a bat and ball left Earle in an ungainly heap. \"Just kidding!\" Judd said, standing over him, shooting his cuffs. \"Come on, upsy daisy, you old kidder!\" But before Earle could rise, Cliff had Judd by the arm, cursing softly and expertly. A small crowd had gathered outside the door. They wanted to know what was the matter, and between howls for help, Brownie was telling them, inveighing against college men who broke up respectable restaurants \"Jest because they got a little money and go to college\u2014 Help! Poleeze!\" \"Shut up!\" Cliff said. \"We'll make it all right with you. Just send me the bill for damages.\" He shoved Judd through the crowd to his car. \"Get in there\u2014 you\u2014 you idiot!\" Judd climbed in obediently. As Cliff took the wheel, he saw a blue-coated figure coming towards them.\nCliff and Judd ran, stepping hard on the gas. Judd sat silent, adjusting his tie and smoothing his hair. Cliff grimly said, \"Don't forget to powder your nose!\" and found that he was shaking. Presently, he drew over to the curb and stopped the car. They were well away from Brownie's now on a deserted, shabby little street. Cliff demanded furiously, \"Damn you! What did you do that for? Do you realize what you've done! What did you have to do that for\u2014on top of everything else! You\u2014 you fool!\"\n\nJudd shrugged. \"I've been wanting to hit that guy for months.\"\n\n\"Well, you hit him!\" Cliff exclaimed. \"And old Dingle saw you do it. I suppose you know what that means.\"\n\n\"He scratched me,\" Judd said, running a finger along his cheek. \"I'll bet it's bleeding.\"\n\n\"They'll throw you out of college\u2014you know what they did with Bancker and his gang after that brawl.\"\n\"and you can bet Brownie will raise hell. This is going to cost you your degree.\"\n\"What of it? Who cares about a degree? And they won't throw me out because I'm leaving.\"\n\"Listen, Judd, I know you had provocation\u2014 so do those others\u2014 even old Dingle must have seen Earle come over to our table, heard what he said. If you go straight to old Hardie and tell him the whole business\u2014 be perfectly honest with him, tell him the facts\u2014\"\n\"Swell! Tell him why Earle started it\u2014 what he was kidding me about! Don't worry! They'll all know it soon enough without my telling them! And won't they have a good laugh!\"\n\"Let them laugh. That's better than being thrown out at this stage of the game, isn't it?\"\n\"I tell you they're not going to throw me out,\" Judd said. \"Come on, let's get going. I want to pick up some clothes and my car\u2014\"\n\"What are you going to do?\" Judd said. It was nearly Sunday morning and dawn had already made dirty gray shadows of her windows before Lora had fallen asleep. Then she had had a terrible dream. She dreamed that she and Judd were back in the little church at Harbor Village trying to persuade old Frederick Hedd to marry them. But old Frederick said he couldn't because Judd had forgotten to bring his college degree, and without it no marriage would be legal. So Judd went home to get his degree and Lora was alone, the church was dark, and she was frightened and called for Judd. Then it seemed that someone had locked him out and he was outside knocking on the door and Lora couldn't let him in because Hay had just come off the Reckless with a huge basket of fish and they were all leaping out of the basket and menacing.\nShe sat up in bed with hideous pop eyes and open mouths. And Both Were Young.\n\nShe was cold with horror, but realizing it was all just a dream, except for the knocking. Someone was tapping steadily on the door, whispering her name. \"Miss Paris! Miss Paris!\"\n\nLora recognized the voice of the chambermaid, Nettie, and sprang out of bed. She caught up her bathrobe and opened the door. Nettie had an envelope in her hand and spoke in a whisper out of deference to the day and the early hour. \"A little boy just brought this, Miss. The gentleman asked him to bring an answer.\"\n\nLora had to take the letter back into her room for the long corridor was still almost dark. She huddled her robe about her and went to the window while Nettie stood in the doorway and waited. The envelope bore Judd's name and address typed on it.\n\"Dear Sir,\nWe take pleasure in advising you of the arrival of a new consignment of our noted Scotch tweeds.\nAnd Both Were Young\nDarling,\nI'm parked in the little lane that runs behind the chapel. Know where I mean? Turn right as you come out of the North gate and then right again. I've got the license and both rings. We can drive across the state line and before lunch you're going to be the girl who eloped. Bring some clothes and leave a note on the pin-cushion for your Alma Mater. Tell her you're retiring into private life and come as quickly as you can, darling. I've been pretty dumb but hope\"\nNettie stood in the doorway. Her eyes were puffy as she had been to a double feature movie the night before with her boy friend. But she was wide awake and terribly excited. It was no usual thing for little boys to bring messages to the girls at seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. Nettie scented romance. The reception of the letter confirmed her delighted suspicions. To be sure, Lora didn't crumple the letter and hold it to her breast, gazing ecstatically at the ceiling - a reaction Nettie's experience of such crises as portrayed on the screen had led her to believe was proper for a lady receiving a love letter.\nLora folded the letter and shoved it back in its envelope. But Nettie could see that her hands were unsteady, and she was all a-twitter. \"All a-twitter and looking like she'd just won the sweepstakes,\" Nettie later recalled.\n\nThe window was still open, and Lora sprang at it and closed it. Then she hurried across to her bureau and dragged open the top drawer, took out her purse, and came across to Nettie. She had looked pinched and scared when she had opened the door, but now, even with her hair all tousled and her bathrobe on inside out, she was radiant.\n\n\"Thanks, Nettie,\" she said. \"Will you give the boy this\u2014 and tell him to tell the gentleman that\u2014 that it's OK? And this is for you\u2014\"\"Oh, I couldn't take\u2014\"\"\n\n\"Please take it. I want you to have it.\" And, Nettie.\nLora: \"Please don't say anything about this, won't you\u2014 not until after I'm gone, anyway.\"\n\nNettie: \"Gone? Are you going away? I mean, you're not going for good!\"\n\nLora: \"Yes, for good. Can you help me if you will, Nettie? I'm only going to take one suitcase and my weekend bag. Do you think you could find time to pack my trunk\u2014 and the books and things? Then in a few days I'll write and tell you where to send them.\"\n\nNettie: \"Sure. Sure, I'll be glad to do that. Only\u2014 you mean no one knows you're leaving?\"\n\nLora: \"Not yet. You see\u2014 I'll tell you why I'm leaving, Nettie, if you can keep a secret.\"\n\nNettie: \"[crosses self]\"\n\"I swear, Miss Paris, I won't tell a soul.\"\n\"I'm getting married.\"\n\"Married, today?\"\n\"Today.\"\n\"Golly! You\u2014\"\n\"Hurry and give the boy the message, will you? Then if you want to come back and help\u2014\"\nTwenty minutes later, Nettie unlocked the heavy hall door and Lora stepped out into the chill late October morning. A thin rime frosted the grass and the withered leaves of the tall old trees. The clouds, swollen with snow, hung low above the ancient, ivy-grown buildings. In the distance, a church bell tolled for early Mass, and for a moment, it seemed to Lora that she had stepped back into some deserted, medieval world. She would not have been surprised to see Judd, in doublet and hose, come prancing across the broad campus on a high white stallion. Instead, Judd had come in his shabby old roadster.\nShe saw him pacing up and down beside it as she rounded the corner of Chapel Lane. Tall and young, she remembered him with his ruddy head uncapped. When he saw her, he came running with long legs flying easily over the frozen ground, topcoat flapping. She set her bags on the ground and stood there waiting.\n\n\"Darling, darling, darling!\"\n\"Judd!\"\n\nHis unshaven cheeks were rough, his kisses sweet and fierce. He held her close. \"Lora! Dearheart, let me look at you.\" He held her off and looked, and Lora's eyes fell shyly away from his. Her cheeks burned. \"Judd, you must have been driving half the night.\"\n\n\"What did you think I'd do? Take my conge lying down?\"\n\n\"Darling, I couldn't-\"\n\n\"Never mind. I had it coming to me. It was just what I needed to jar me awake.\" He drew her back.\nLet's not talk about it\u2014 what do you think of my plan?\nWhat is your plan?\nWell, I think this license we got last summer is as good as ever\u2014 if it isn't, we'll manage to get it renewed.\nCan you renew a marriage license?\nWhy not? You can renew a car license, he said, and they laughed brokenly. After we're married, guess what? We're going on a honeymoon. Don't get any ideas about Europe or Bermuda\u2014 but I guess we can find some place where we can be alone and get acquainted again\u2014 what's the matter?\nWe can't really, can we? You have to get back to college tomorrow, don't you?\nNot I, darling. Little Juddy's school days are all over.\nShe tilted her head to look into his eyes. \"Judd, you don't mean you're not going back at all! But you've got to\u2014 you'll lose your degree!\"\n\"Do you think I'd rather lose you? Do you think I'm going to let you go again?\" He kissed her eyes and laid his cheek hard on hers. \"This time we're going to have a title that means something, darling\u2014 a title and everything that goes with it.\" He let her go and stooped and picked up her bags. \"Come along, sweet. Is there some place around here where we can get a bite of breakfast?\"\n\nShe followed him to the car and stood watching him put the bags in the rumble seat. \"Yes\u2014 I think so. But, Judd\u2014\"\"Good\u2014 hop in\u2014\"\"\n\nHis arm was around her, helping her, but she shook her head. \"I\u2014 I can't! I didn't know you\u2014 that would be awful\u2014 for you to lose your degree. I'd never forgive myself\u2014 it would be all my fault\u2014\"\"He laughed. \"Oh, no, it wouldn't, darling. I've already lost it\u2014 so you see it wasn't your fault at all.\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young. (131)\nHer eyes spread. She stared at him, puzzled and alarmed. \"You've already lost it?\" he asked.\n\n\"I socked Earle Gracie on the nose last night,\" he explained, \"and when you sock a man, it makes an unpleasant noise. Respectable colleges don't like unpleasant noises. So, you see\u2014 I'm out.\"\n\n\"Oh, darling! But it wasn't your fault\u2014 it was Earle's fault. He always was a bully. It must have been his fault. You could tell them that, couldn't you?\"\n\n\"I could, but why should I?\" he retorted. \"Come on, hop in!\"\n\nBut she held back, shaking her head. \"No\u2014 Oh, Judd, your parents will feel terribly. They'll never forgive me\u2014 never forgive either of us now if we\u2014\"\n\n\"Who cares!\" he said savagely. \"Haven't they done enough to us! We can't hurt each other any more than they've already hurt us. We're on our own, now\u2014 we have to live our own lives!\"\n\nShe cried, \"Yes\u2014 that's it! Don't you see, darling?\"\nThat's why we mustn't ruin it all. I felt the same way this morning. When your note came, I thought nothing could stop us now, I thought that now we'd have our revenge\u2014like people in books, you know. But that's silly! Don't you see\u2014if we were to run away and get married now\u2014on top of your trouble with Earle\u2014being thrown out of college\u2014it would spoil everything\u2014ruin your life\u2014\n\n132 And Both Were Young\n\n\"You didn't worry about things like that last summer.\"\n\n\"I didn't know enough. Maybe I didn't love you enough. Maybe they were right about that. I do now.\" She locked her hands behind his head and urged him, her lips against his cheek. \"If you'll go back\u2014\"\"I tell you I can't!\"\n\n\"If you explain, they'll take you back, darling. I know they will. And I'll wait\u2014I'll be patient. I won't mind what anyone says. Judd, if you truly love me...\"\nA car passed the corner, stopped with a screech of brakes, and backed up. Lora slipped out of Judd's arms. He muttered, \"This seems to be a popular spot,\" and opened the door of the roadster. Before he could help her in, two men were out of the other car and hurrying toward them.\n\nOne of them called, \"Just a minute! Your name Harcott, young man?\"\n\nJudd turned his haggard face and looked at them resentfully. \"It is.\"\n\n\"Thought so,\" the man was beside them now, a large man, and as he spoke, he flipped back his coat. It was the first time, outside of the theater, that Lora had ever seen that gesture or the badge it revealed. \"My name's O'Ranny. I'm from headquarters. We just got word from Haverton to pick you up.\"\nIf you happened to pass by here. Lora took her foot off the running board of the roadster and slipped her arm through Judd's. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and frowned at Officer O'Ranny and his silent partner. \"Pick me up? What do you mean?\" \"They want you in Haverton. Seems that fellow you socked last night - you must have hit him pretty hard. The poor guy isn't expected to live. The Haverton Press had been on the newsstands since dawn, and the old college town had taken simultaneously to its coffee and the latest campus scandal - STUDENT IN COMA AFTER BRAWL. POLICE SEARCH FOR HAVERTON SENIOR'S MISSING ASSAILANT. So it was an old story by the time Judd was handed over to justice. But it was new to Judd, whose haggard, unshaven cheeks went livid under the implication that he had deliberately run away.\nCliff said, \"I told them they were all wrong, that you had no idea Earl was really hurt, that you had simply gone to Lockwood to see your girl.\" Cliff had been waiting in the smoky little police station. He had confessed at once. \"They came tearing up to the house about an hour after you'd gone. I told them the whole business exactly as it happened- but that damned reporter wanted a story,\" Cliff added.\n\n\"Sure he wanted a story,\" Judd said. \"Give me a cigarette, will you?\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nCliff handed over his pack. \"They can't hold you, of course. All they can do is arrest you on a charge of assault and battery and admit you to bail-\"\n\n\"They can save their breath. I'm broke.\"\n\n\"Don't be touchy. I can raise the money, if you can't.\"\n\n\"Thanks, but you needn't bother. I'll go to jail.\"\n\n\"You know darn well your people won't let you do that.\"\n\"My people won't know anything about this if I can help it. You can't, and how do you think they'll feel if you let these gorillas lock you up? And what about Lora? Judd's weary face lighted up, his bitter smile softened. It's all right, Cliff\u2014 everything's all right, again. I knew it would be if I could just see her, talk to her. She\u2014 I mean about your going to jail. How's she going to feel about that? Don't you think Lora would rather I went to jail than appealed to my parents\u2014 after what they've done to us? Judd said, low and savage. Do you think it would make any difference to her, even if Earle dies and they have me up for murder? You don't know Lora!\" Cliff shook his head hopelessly. \"Now you're talking like a romantic fool.\" And Both Were Young.\n\nThis wouldn't have happened if I'd had...\"\nI'm on my own now. I'll take my dose \u2013 like a man \u2013 and Lora will stand by me. An officer nudged Judd. \"Come along, buddy.\" There's a nightmarish quality about all legal procedure that is devastating to a law-abiding citizen. Judd had hours to adjust and brace his spirit for the ordeal, but the atmosphere of blas\u00e9 indifference and cynical disbelief common to every police court reduced him to a state of almost speechless rage and defiance. When they asked him, \"Well, if you didn't know you'd hurt Gracie, why were you in such a hurry to get out of town?\" he said angrily, \"I wasn't in a hurry to get out of town. I was in a hurry to get to Lockwood.\" \"Yeah? What's in Lockwood that you were in such a hurry for?\" And Judd roared, \"Because I was going there to be married!\"\nAt the back of the smoky little room, Cliff groaned inwardly and a reporter from the Press sat up straighter, scribbling something on a crumpled pad. What he scribbled made a nice little spread for the morning edition of his paper:\n\nHAVERTON SENIOR'S WEDDING PLANS BROKEN UP BY BRAWL\nJudd Harcott Prospective Bridegroom, Jailed on Charges of Assault and Battery.\n\nBoth Were Young\nLieu of Bail on Charges of Assault and Battery. Gracie Still Unconscious-\n\nAfter he read that story, Cliff Sidney telephoned Bailey Harcott in Cleveland, and an hour later, Bailey was en route to Haverton in an east-bound plane. He was a man of resource and decision, and when the first shock of Cliff's message had abated somewhat, his mind took up his son's problem with something of his customary cool precision:\n\nFirst, Judd must be freed and cleared of the charges.\nHis first act upon arriving at Haverton was to buy a copy of the Press. The sight of the screaming headlines caused him to reverse the order of his activities. Five minutes later, the staccato symphony of the Press city room was invaded by his enraged roar.\n\n\"Where's the editor of this sheet? Where is he\u2013 are you the editor? My name is Harcott\u2013 what does this mean? How dare you print these outrageous lies about my son?\" He waved the paper under the astonished editor's nose. \"Treating a simple accident as though it were a\u2013 a Hollywood scandal! You'll retract this story in your next edition, you hear, or I'll start a libel suit against you\u2013\"\n\"The editor's manner, conciliatory at first, changed. His face darkened. He was a conscientious and politic man but he was no worm. His mounting rage kept pace with the accuser's. After a final and terrible peroration, Mr. Harcott stormed out. The editor dropped into his swivel chair and mopped the indignant sweat from his brow. The young reporter who had covered Judd's case eyed his boss furtively, got up and sidled over to the desk. \"Look, boss, I swear that kid said...\" \"You needn't bother to swear. Listen, Harker,\"\"\nThere's something behind all this. The boy claims he was going to be married, but the father denies it. He leaned narrow-eyed across the cluttered desk. \"Go on out and see what you can dig up. Find out the girl's name and run up to Lockwood. If you can't get anything out of her, try the servants. Hunt up the boy's mother and try to get her to talk. If anything good breaks, get it in as soon as you can.\" He brought his fist down hard on his desk. \"That pompous windbag may have 'em all doing the goose-step in his own hometown, but I'm damned if he can come in here and bully me!\"\n\nThe results of Mr. Harker's activities were sufficient to be taken up by the metropolitan press, and there was quite an impressive pile of articles.\nThe newspapers were on the Dean's desk when Lora was summoned to her office the following afternoon. The President, Provost, Dean, Dean of Women, Julia Paris, and Marie Harcott were already present. Hot splotches of red adorned Julia's thin cheekbones, and Marie's heavy figure was smartly gowned, her face paper white save for the red penciled line of her mouth.\n\nLora did not know how long they had been in conclave before summoning her. Upon entering, no one moved or spoke, except Doctor Shannon, who said in her deep, masculine voice, \"Sit there, please, Lora,\" and nodded to the empty chair facing her across the desk. Lora sat down, her back rigid, her chin high, looking at nothing, seeing everything; the dusty streaks from yesterday's rain on the windows, the trees shivering in the sunless room.\nThe wind blew across the campus, the books lining the walls, the turquoise loveknot that fastened Doctor Shannon's lace bertha. The papers on the desk were folded to the story:\n\n\"And Both Were Young\n\nthat had embroiled the conservative old college in her first scandal. From where she sat, Lora could read the headlines upside down\u2014 HARCOTT'S FATHER DENIES SON'S INTENTION TO WED LOCKWOOD SOPHOMORE BUT MAID DISCLOSES PAIR PLANNED TO ELOPE-SAYS LORA PARIS CONFIDED SHE WOULD \u2018RUN AWAY\u2019 WITH EARLE GRACIE\u2019S ASSAILANT -POLICE ALLEGE FIANCEE WAS WITH HARCOTT AT TIME OF ARREST-HARCOTT REFUSES FATHER'S OFFER OF BAIL -REMAINS PRISONER PENDING OUTCOME OF VICTIM'S INJURIES\u2014\n\nLora knew those headlines by heart but it was interesting to puzzle them out upside down. She feared they had shocked Doctor Shannon badly. She looked shocked. Her kind, plain face was pale.\"\nterribly drawn and grim. The Provost's and the Dean's faces were likewise. Miss Chester, the Dean of Women, looked as though she had been crying. It touched Lora that they should take it so seriously; that the transgression of a student and a little unpleasant publicity could seem to them a matter of such solemn moment. She knew they expected her to regard it as solemnly, and this amused her greatly. With Judd in jail\u2014a possible murderer\u2014they could actually believe that being expelled from college mattered to her!\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nShe had never intended to defend herself; she would not have been there at all if it had not been for her mother's passionate insistence. Julia had come flying up from New York to her child's defense, and Lora had demanded of her, \"Do you think I care what they do to me! Do you think I could stay on here now!\"\n\"You can certainly do it! You shall! It wasn't your fault that Judd Harcott killed Earle Grade. It was that woman's fault! I've told them that. I've told Doctor Shannon everything frankly! Lora could hardly believe that this was her mother- her voice strident with passion, her face blotchy with tears, her eyes wild. None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for her. She hated you and despised your family from the very first. If she'd let you alone, both of you would have been all right. I've told Doctor Shannon all about it- before that woman had a chance to poison their minds. What's she doing here? What did she come up here for? Why isn't she with Judd? She's here because she wants to see you disgraced!\"\nShe wants to ruin your life the way she has ruined her son's. \"She didn't drag me,\" he protested. \"But she shan't do it! Your father's ready to spend every cent he owns to keep your name out of it.\" \"He mustn't do that!\" Lora exclaimed quickly. \"That doesn't matter! I mean, it's Judd.\" \"Doesn't matter!\" Julia cried. \"How can you say such a thing? Doesn't matter that you've disgraced yourself and us! Do you want your name coupled with a murderer's!\" \"He's not a murderer! He hadn't any idea he'd really hurt Earle!\" \"You've read the newspapers,\" Lora reminded him. \"They're full of lies. They said he was trying to escape. He wasn't. He was going back of his own accord when those policemen-\" Julia suddenly reached out and clutched her daughter's arm, her face thrust forward. \"Were you planning to run off and marry him then?\"\n\"Yes, at first I wasn't going back before I knew he'd had trouble with Earl. Then I knew he'd lose his degree and I didn't want him to do that. You tell them that! You hear me- tell them just that. I wasn't going to marry Judd. They're all on your side- the Dean and Doctor Shannon. Miss Chester told me so- she said no girl in college had a better record. If you just let them see you're sorry.\"\n\nIf she would just let them see she was sorry- Lora thought of that now and almost smiled. But Doctor Shannon was opening her case and it would be important to appear serious during the President's solemn phrases: \"deplorable affair affecting not only himself but the college as well.\"\nThe student body and faculty - all the aims and purposes for which the college stands - in fairness to her fellow students, in justice to Lora herself, incumbent on us to ascertain the facts. The deep voice rose and fell rhythmically. Lora sat quiet in her chair. The ghosts of last summer's freckles faintly speckled her white cheeks. Her eyelids were heavy with sleeplessness, her unrouged lips quite colorless. Only her slender, immature body and bright curls, caught back as usual with a narrow ribbon, were the body and curls of the schoolgirl these women believed they were trying to save from a regrettable indiscretion.\n\nJudd was in jail and if Earle Gracie died, he would be tried for murder. Here were all these good, simple women solemnly intent on saving her from the disgrace of being expelled from college. All except Marie Harcott. Lora asked herself, \"What is Marie up to?\"\nLora asked, \"What is Mrs. Harcott doing here?\" Doctor Shannon spoke about the unfairness of judging people based on newspapers and servants' gossip. Lora persisted, \"What right does she have to be here?\" The President's face flushed, and he demanded silence. Kind-hearted Miss Chester intervened, \"I\"\nLora didn't think she was being impertinent, Doctor Shannon. If you'll forgive me for saying so, she was within her rights in asking.\n\nDoctor Shannon said sternly to Lora, \"Mrs. Harcott is here at my invitation. She came to ask you a few questions. Since you refused to see her, I felt it only fair to extend her the privilege of being present at this hearing. You must realize that Mrs. Harcott's son's freedom - his reputation, perhaps his life - are at stake.\"\n\n\"Then why isn't she there with him?\" Lora asked, frowning, twisting her handkerchief into a rope. Her mother was there with her. She didn't care what happened to Judd, was determined only to protect her child. \"He needs her there.\"\n\n\"Lora!\" Julia Paris said and leaned forward and shook Lora's arm.\nDoctor Shannon spoke slowly and clearly. \"Mrs. Harcott hopes and believes that certain facts may come to light which will serve as extenuating circumstances in the event that her son's case comes to trial,\" he said.\n\n\"Extenuating circumstances?\" Lora asked, looking away from Marie Harcott's face and fixing her gaze on the President's. \"What does that mean?\"\n\nThe President leaned across the desk and looked at Lora. Lora realized suddenly that Doctor Shanon was on her side. \"Mrs. Harcott maintains that her son was incited to this quarrel by some act of yours, that he came here at your request,\" Doctor Shanon continued.\n\nMarie Harcott's voice rang out sharply and urgently. \"Not the day he\u2014 not Sunday. I don't say that.\"\nI do say this, she must have communicated with him in some way before that\u2014 threatened to break her engagement if he did not come. The President's voice was grave. \"You don't know that this is true, Mrs. Harcott?\" \"I know it must be true, but I have no proof, if that is what you mean. I do know that she did break her engagement to him\u2014 returned his ring\u2014\"\"Just a moment, please. Is that true, Lora?\" Lora looked at her bare left hand. \"Yes.\" There was a little stir, a murmur, a quick exchange of glances among her judges. Doctor Shannon said, \"Then you were not engaged to the young man when he came here Sunday morning?\" \"No\u2014 I\u2014 no, I guess I wasn't.\" \"It was getting the ring back that made Judd desperate. He has never struck a man in passion in his life- Your son cannot blame Lora for that.\"\nThe President spoke dryly, \"He lost his temper.\" Marie Harcott's face turned purple, her voice shook. \"She sent back his ring not because she wanted to break with him but because she knew that would be the most effective way to make him break his promise to me. What happened Sunday proves that. She was going to marry him! Even though she knew he would lose his degree\u2014that it would ruin his life. She would have done the same thing last summer.\" Julia Paris half rose from her chair, Doctor Shan- And Both Were Young 147 non brought her open palm down smartly on the desk. \"Please! If we cannot conduct this inquiry with some degree of restraint, I shall be obliged to dismiss it altogether.\" She turned back to Lora. Her voice was definitely gentler, her eyes softer than they had been before. \"We have no proof\u2014nor, I suppose,\"\n\"believe Mrs. Harcott thinks there is truth in these accusations. We know only that you were unfortunately with her son when he was apprehended--\"\n\n\"Why should she have told the maid she was leaving to be married? Why should she have taken her suitcase with her? She got him up here to marry her--\"\n\n\"That's not true!\" Julia Paris cried out. \"She was trying to make him go back to college-- she didn't want him to lose his degree!\"\n\n\"Silence!\" Doctor Shannon thundered. \"Lora, what have you to say to this?\"\n\nLora flung out her arms. \"Oh, what does it matter now? What does it matter whether I was going to marry him or not! What--\"\n\n\"What does it matter, Lora?\" the President repeated, harsh and quick. \"It matters very much indeed! It matters to us whether you were guilty of such a deliberate offense against society, your family and the college.\"\nIt is important for Mrs. Harcott to know whether you deliberately broke your engagement to her son to lure him from his duties, making him temporarily unbalanced and less culpable, or whether he is solely responsible for his own actions. She leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving Lora's intent gaze. \"It seems illogical, at the least, that you would be planning to marry a man just a few days after you had voluntarily broken your engagement to him. It was wrong of you to see him at all, of course, since you were bound by a promise not to do so. If, however, you were not engaged to him at the time and he came to you...\"\nHere he persuaded you to see him against your better judgment. Now Lora could have laughed aloud. They were putting words in her mouth, offering her the politest possible alibi. Or was it an alibi? She had been there all right, but only because Judd had persuaded her against her better judgment! She could feel her mother's breathless eyes upon her, read the eager entreaty in the President's measured words, feel the others waiting, tense and hopeful. They were fighting for the honor of their alma mater just as her mother was fighting for the honor of her child's name. Just as Judd's mother was fighting \u2013 not for the sadistic pleasure of seeing Lora suffer but to prove that the girl she hated and her son loved was indirectly responsible for his crime. And wouldn't Judd hate that!\nBut they were all fighting in the only way they knew for the thing that was most important to them. You could not blame them for that. It was not always possible to divide your loyalties. There were moments when every force of your being, every beat of your heart, must be concentrated on one alone. Lora did not think of it quite like this, but she saw the way she, too, might fight for the one thing that was important to her. She thought with a little pang of these kind women, with a sharper pang of her parents, before she spoke. But when she did speak, her voice was clear and bold, these extending circumstances must sound convincing.\n\n\"I didn't see him against my better judgment at all. I mean, I did know he'd come\u2014after I sent back his ring. I knew if anything would make him, that would. Then\u2014\u201c\n\n\"Lora!\" Julia Paris gasped.\nLora dared not look at her mother. \"Nettie didn't lie. I did tell her we were getting married. We would have done it, too, if those policemen hadn't caught up with us. But Judd wasn't trying to escape at all. I don't think he even knew he'd hit Earle Grade\u2014 he said when he got my ring back that he kind of went out of his mind.\"\n\n\"And both were young,\"\n\nThe awful silence in the room was cut by a sudden, sibilant sound. That was Mrs. Harcott. Lora looked at her blandly.\n\n\"Of course I didn't know anything like that was going to happen\u2014 I mean, I didn't know he was going to fight about me. I just wanted to get him up here. He didn't want to break that silly promise. But I knew he was crazy about me and I just kept after him,\" Lora explained.\n\n\"You hear her?\" Marie Harcott was on her feet. \"You've all heard\u2014\"\n\n\"It's not true!\" Julia Paris sprang at Lora and\n\n(Note: The text appears to be complete and readable, so no cleaning is necessary.)\nLora's father shook her, unaware she was being shaken. \"You told me you were trying to make him go back,\" he said.\n\n\"You all heard her! Look what she's done to him \u2013 ruined his life,\" her mother retorted.\n\n\"Please, please,\" Lora begged.\n\n\"She had no intention of marrying him,\" Lora asserted.\n\nTheir voices disrupted the academic calm of the Dean's office. Lora slipped from her mother's grasp and hurried to her room to pack. Seven hours later, she earnestly explained to her father, \"But, don't you see, dad, it was the only thing I could do! If Earle dies, they can say Judd didn't know what he was doing when he hit him, they can blame it on me for sending back the ring \u2013 it can't really hurt me and it may help Judd!\"\n\n\"That,\" Julia added, \"is the way she has been talking all the way from Lockwood.\"\nShe took off her coat and hat, pushed her hair off her forehead. She was a broken and desperately weary woman, and looked it. It was nearly midnight. Lora's unpacked bags still stood in the hall where the hall man had placed them five minutes before. New York sounded its nocturnal beat against the closed windows.\n\n\"I'm sorry\u2014 I know it's terribly hard on you,\" Lora said. \"But don't you see, it is partly my fault. I mean, I did send back the ring and they did quarrel over me. Judd did act kind of crazy, too.\"\n\nGeorge Paris looked haggard-eyed at his daughter. That day, the days that had gone before it, had aged him. He was not a man given to retrospection but lately his mind had been tied, like a puppy to a stake\u2014to that most futile of all words\u2014If. If the Harcotts had never come to the Harbor; if Lora had not sent back the ring; if Judd had not acted crazy.\nHad never met Judd\u2014if, if, if! Now George looked at his child, her small white face framed by the big fur collar of her coat, her eyes glazed, her round cheeks hollowed. She was so young! Why, Lord, it was only yesterday he was bringing her home from kindergarten and she was wearing a dress half as long as his arm; a fat-legged, rosy-cheeked, sticky-fisted baby. What had happened, where had they slipped up? \"There are no bad children, only bad parents,\" was the way that old parson had put it last summer.\n\nOnly bad parents. George said, \"You'd better take off your things. Did you have dinner on the train?\"\n\n\"After all, what's being expelled from college and getting your name in the paper compared to what Judd's going through?\" She stood\nI. Julia began to take off her coat. \"She hasn't considered us - not one of us - for a moment,\" she told her husband in a dead voice. \"She seems to have no pride, no shame. And won't the newspapers love this?\"\n\nII. \"Dad, you understand, don't you?\" Julia pleaded. \"If I'd been in your place, and mother's life was in danger-\"\n\nIII. \"Don't be ridiculous!\" her mother cried.\n\nIV. \"That's not ridiculous!\" Julia insisted. \"I love Judd. I'd do anything-\"\n\nV. \"Yes! Sacrifice your whole future, your own flesh and blood! And how can you talk of loving him when his own mother-\"\n\nVI. \"Never mind, never mind!\" George Paris interjected harshly. \"No sense crying over spilt milk. What's done is done. As Lora says, being expelled from college is a small thing compared to being tried for-\"\nHe looked at his daughter grimly. \"But it was a foolish thing to do. This temporary insanity plea won't sit well with juries these days. Only hysterical women would believe it would make a man act that way over getting his ring back. And Judd won't appreciate it\u2014 it makes a man look weak if a little thing like that sets him off.\n\nLooking silly is better than going to prison! Dad, they couldn't execute him or anything if Earle dies, could they? And if Earle gets well, they'll let him out, won't they? They can't do anything to him if Earle gets well, can they?\n\nNo, that is, if Earle recovers and withdraws the charges\u2014 which I suppose he will since it's generally known he started the fight. Here, stop that, Jule!\"\n\nFor Julia was sobbing, terribly and uncontrollably.\nHer husband went to her and put his arms around her. Julia sobbed, \"How can you talk to her! Oh, what have I ever done to deserve this!\" Lora looked across at them with blazing, unseeing eyes. They didn't care. Judd could hang or rot in prison. All they could think of was their silly pride.\n\nThe press \"loved\" the newest developments in the Gracie-Harcott-Paris scandal. What had started as a garden-variety student brawl had developed all the earmarks of a love triangle. Perfectly made to order for the tabloids and those publications which make no detour via the mind in their appeal to the emotions. Already in possession of a variety of lurid half-truths, they did their best to substantiate these by going direct to Lora herself. They would have liked Her Own Personal Confession.\nStory of her Affair with a Prominent Young College Senior. They were prepared to pay for it. Not a little astonished and offended, their generous offer was refused by the irate father of the Girl in Love Triangle. But they treated the facts they had with ingenuity and imagination. They even managed to get hold of her boarding school senior year book and make a fair reproduction of her picture as of that period.\n\nThe picture was disappointing. It showed the breathless public a pretty, round-faced, curly-haired girl, smiling and shining-eyed\u2014 hardly the portrait of a lady whose charms had probably cost the life of one man and the freedom of another. But the caption read\u2014 Lora Paris Before Judd Harcott Came Into Her Life, which implied that the Lora Paris after Judd Harcott had come into her life was the real one.\nThe long-eyed siren of every tabloid reader's imagination. The headlines required no imagination whatever: FIANCEE ADmitted SHE PLANNED SECRET MARRIAGE WITH EARLE GRACIE'S ASSAILANT-Second ATTEMPT TO ELOPE FRUSTRATED BY POLICE-Pair OBTAINED LICENSE TO WED LAST SUMMER-CEREMONY Stopped by Harcott's Parents-Lockwood expels sophomore WHO ADMITED BREAKING ENGAGEMENT IN HOPE OF Persuading Judd Harcott to Elope. Tired of college, declares Lora Paris. \"I Knew If I Sent Back the Ring He Would Come To Me!\" Harcott Alleged to be Unbalanced by Break with Sweetheart at Time of Attack on Classmate. Counsel to Plead Insanity in Event of Grade's Death- Judd had read all this and more before his mother's visit that morning. When Mrs. Harcott arrived, she found his cell strewn with newspapers supplied by a thoughtful jailer who had sympathized with his plight.\nA distinguished prisoner from the start, he was considered the victim of a woman's perfidy and now had all his preconceived ideas confirmed by the press. He carried Judd all the papers with the biggest headlines in the hope that they would dispel any lingering affection the young man might still entertain for the cause of his downfall.\n\nJudd read them all. He read the story of his romance with the Tailor's Daughter, a detailed account of their frustrated elopement last summer, and their subsequent engagement. Mrs. Harcott had corroborated those details with every appearance of reluctance. Indeed, all her dealings with the Press had been marked by the restraint and aversion natural to a well-bred woman involved in her first public scandal. And, inevitably, the resultant story read like the familiar chronicle of the pure and fallen woman.\nA young man, superior in status, was led to his downfall by a woman below him. Lora was known as \"The Tailor's Pretty Daughter,\" and Judd as \"The Banker's Handsome Son.\" Implication suggested that George Paris's prosperous establishment had transformed into a squalid shop, filled with steam and naphtha, and his wife had aided and abetted her daughter's attempted mismatch for mercenary reasons.\n\nMrs. Harcott had not made these statements. When asked why she had opposed her son's marriage initially, she had replied that she believed the young couple to be incompatible, both mentally and socially. She added that this was not a reflection on Mr. and Mrs. Paris, whom she scarcely knew.\n\nJudd read this by the faint light filtering through the small, high window of his cell. He shouted,\nLoud, derisive laughter at some of it, but Lora's quoted confession raised muscles like ropes along his jaw. When he heard footsteps in the corridor, saw his mother's face at the square, barred opening in his door, he sprang to his feet and brandished the paper he had been reading.\n\n\"I thought you'd never come. Have you seen these\u2014have you read this filthy tripe?\"\n\nHer gloved hands curled hard around the bars.\n\n\"Yes, but never mind that now, darling. Have they told you that Earle is better this morning? Definitely better. They told your father\u2014\"\n\n\"They can't get away with this! Where did they get hold of it\u2014did you give those swine an interview?\"\n\nShe said, shaking, \"Did you hear me tell you that Earle is better? What do you care about\u2014?\"\n\n\"What do I care?\" he shouted. \"Don't you care? Do you want people to think your son is a cad and a disgrace?\"\n\"a half-wit - a half-witted cad, that\u2019s what this makes me look like! And all those lies about Lora and me - about her being thrown out of college! Did you tell them that?\"\n\n\"And Both Were Young\"\n\n\"Certainly I didn\u2019t - I didn\u2019t know it, but I\u2019m not surprised if it\u2019s true.\"\n\n\"They can\u2019t. They can\u2019t treat her like that for something she never did!\"\n\nShe said, with her face pressed close to those dreadful bars, \"Judd, I think you must be mad! Do you realize what I\u2019m telling you! Earle is better - the doctors say he may be well enough to make a statement this afternoon. You may be out of here by tonight!\"\n\n\"Well, I\u2019ll be back in again tomorrow if they aren\u2019t releasing people for killings rats!\"\n\n\"You can talk like that - after all you\u2019ve been through, after all we\u2019ve suffered? I tell you you may be exonerated of murder and you-\"\n\"I thought you'd be wild with joy, Judd. Instead, I think you must be out of your mind.\"\n\n\"Yeah, temporarily unbalanced by this break with sweetheart!\" His grin was ghastly. It faded, and he thrust a finger through the bars and touched her cheek.\n\n\"Sorry, but all this - on top of everything else - those dirty lies about Lora! What do you suppose the Paris' will think?\"\n\nShe made a gesture of despair. \"Is that more important to you than the knowledge that you may be a free man again in a few hours?\"\n\nHe went suddenly quite still, staring at her face with sunken, feverish eyes but not seeing her, seeing nothing, probing through some confusion within himself.\n\n\"I don't know - it wouldn't have been before this happened - all this dirty, cheap publicity, but somehow it doesn't seem to matter so much.\"\nShe made a horrified sound and he said, \"Oh, no, no man wants to feel he's a murderer. I don't want Earle to die, but whether he does or not, the damage is done now, don't you see? I mean, before this, I knew I hadn't done anything wrong\u2014 anything really low. Everyone knows I didn't mean to kill Earle, but\u2014 God! I'd almost rather have killed him than have done this to Lora!\"\n\nShe knew he was a sick man, hardly sane. She had seen that at once and had determined to say nothing that would not soothe and reassure him, but her self-control broke. She cried at him, \"You've done this to her! What has she done to you\u2014?\"\n\n\"Nothing but love me\u2014try to make a man of me\u2014,\" he replied.\n\n\"Can't you read?\" she asked. \"Have you read the things she said herself?\"\n\"She couldn't have said them. They're all lies. I tell you. She wanted me to come back. You want to believe the worst of Lora simply because you hate her\u2014\n\n\"Judd, stop it! I won't let you talk like this\u2014and you're making yourself ill, and you're killing me!\"\n\nHe sank down on the narrow bunk that served him for a bed and dropped his face in his hands. He looked enormous, crouched there on that narrow hanging shelf in that small bare cell. She looked at him through the bars and thought that they symbolized the impassable barrier that had grown up between them these past few months. She had believed that this morning that barrier would have been dissolved. When she had read the papers, she had thought, \"Now he will see what she is! Now he will see what she has done to him! He can't help seeing.\"\"\n\"now!\" She had thought that perhaps all this tragic time had been for the best. Yes, if Earle lived, she could find it in her heart to be glad that Judd had been thrown into jail like a common criminal. He would emerge a sane man, at last, cured of the passion that had so nearly wrecked his life.\n\nJudd got slowly to his feet. When he stood erect, his ruddy hair brushed the low ceiling. He came and stood with his hot face close to hers. \"Sorry again. Guess I am a little nutty\u2014\"\n\n\"You're depressed. You should never have stayed here, Judd. You've no idea how that has hurt your father\u2014that you wouldn't accept his help.\"\n\n\"I got myself into this mess, I'll get myself out of it.\"\n\n\"In a way, we were proud of you for feeling that way, darling. But we were working for you all the same. Your father is working like a soldier\u2014he thinks\"\nThey will reinstate you in your class. After all, as you say, they all know you didn't intend to hurt Earle. They all know he started the trouble. Don't worry about what the newspapers say. These things are soon forgotten.\n\n\"Not by me,\" he said, and the frown between his eyes deepened. \"It can't be forgotten by me. Don't you see that's what I mean\u2014?\"\n\nShe didn't see. She only saw that the miracle she had hoped for had not come to pass. And, when she left him, even the certainty that he would soon be free was not sufficient to keep her shoulders erect or her feet from dragging.\n\nGeorge Paris would have given a good deal to keep those papers from his wife. His own reaction was a frenzied desire for revenge. He would sue the Harcotts, force the papers to retract every word of those infamous lies. When he thought of thousands of people reading those lies, his anger grew.\nHe went sick and weak with rage and shame, yet his knowledge of the press and human nature told him that nothing he could do or say would repair the damage that had been done. Only time could do that.\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nJulia refused to subscribe to this. For the first time since Hay's birth, she was too ill to leave her bed, and the doctor was called to attend her. She was in a fearful state. She had wept every vestige of beauty out of her face, her white hair spread in wild disorder over her pillow. Between spasms of weeping and nausea, she demanded instant retribution.\n\n\"They ought to be horsewhipped\u2014like vicious dogs\u2014no one would blame you\u2014we'll never be able to hold up our heads again\u2014unless they take back every word,\" she cried out.\n\nGeorge sat on the side of her bed and held her.\n\"Two hands in his, she tried to explain. \"I can't make them take anything back, dear, because they haven't actually said anything that isn't true\u2014\"\n\n\"Calling her the tailor's daughter\u2014 as though\u2014\"\n\n\"She is a tailor's daughter. Don't you see, the whole business is like that. The facts are true, only the implications are lies.\"\n\n\"We can sue that woman for defamation of character! The things they said about Lora\u2014 making her appear a nasty little hussy! A gold digger! An unscrupulous\u2014\"\n\n\"Lora did that herself. The Harcotts really believe she is to blame. You can't be too hard on them\u2014\"\n\n\"Can't be too hard on them,\" she screamed. \"You, her own father\u2014 you'll just sit here and let them ruin her reputation\u2014 ruin us all!\"\n\nIn the twenty years of their marriage, he had never seen her like this. He had seen her racked by the pangs of jealousy before, but never to this extent. Her eyes were red and swollen, her voice hoarse from weeping. She was a woman transformed, a woman scorned. And yet, despite her anguish, her father remained calm, unyielding in his belief that the Harcotts were in the wrong. It was a scene that would haunt him for the rest of his days.\npangs of childbirth, haggard and bedraggled after sleepless nights of caring for their sick children, but never like this. He said gently, \"Try and be sensible, Jule. If I take this to court, it'll only give the papers something else to write about\u2014 more headlines. If we keep quiet, it'll blow over, be a nine days\u2019 wonder. I feel just as badly about it as you do, but any lawyer will tell you I'm right.\" She said in a terrible voice, \"I could kill that woman! I could strangle her with my bare hands!\" and George Paris laid his cheek on her mussed hair and thought he would never smile again.\n\nWhen he left the room a few moments later, he met Lora in the hall. He said, \"Keep away from your mother, she's ill\u2014 very ill. The doctor has just given her a sedative.\"\n\n\"I wasn't going to bother her,\" Lora said.\nDad, I can't find anything about Earle in any of the papers. Did you see anything? I mean, anything about whether he's better or worse?\n\nHe fixed his sunken eyes on her and curled his fingers in his palms. \"Good God! I tell you, your mother is sick, and you ask me\u2014 do you realize what you've done to her? Have you read the morning papers?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"And you can still\u2014\" but the words would not come. He said hoarsely, \"What kind of a girl are you, Lora? If you don't care about us, have you no shame for yourself? Do you realize what people are saying about you this morning?\"\n\nShe shook her head impatiently. \"Do you think I care what they say about me? I'm not thinking of myself!\" She turned and hurried back to her room. She did not see the involuntary lift of her eyes.\nLora went back to her bedroom and closed the door. She had the sense of shutting out a callous and hostile world and her heart was full of bitterness. Her parents took it like this, thinking of nothing but their own petty personal grievance. They made her feel that she had committed a crime when she had done only what was proper and natural \u2013 what any girl would have done to save the man she loved! She had always thought of her father and mother as all that was noble and superior to the rest of mankind. Now they had failed her, and her heart hardened to them. She could not think with tenderness even of her mother, lying next door, \"very ill.\"\n\nLora went and stood at the window and looked down.\non Central Park West, alive with restless cars and hurrying people. Not since she had first gone away to boarding school, had she been in New York at this time of year; this dreary in-between time when the trees in the Park were still hung with the ghosts of last summer\u2019s leaves and the air was still hazy with last summer\u2019s dust. Up north, at Lockwood, winter followed swift and cleansing as a competent housemaid's broom on summer\u2019s heels. It had even snowed a little on Sunday. While she was unpacking her bags, she had noticed the slow flakes drifting past her window and thought of Judd driving those two hundred miles back to college\u2014back to prison with Officer O\u2019Ranny beside him.\n\nShe dropped the curtain and her eyes swung over the pleasant, girlish room. She had already made her bed and tidied the dressing table and bureau.\nLora stood with Judd's picture on her little rosewood desk. She had told the maid, \"I'll do my own room this morning, Lottie,\" and Lottie had nodded and backed out in silence, her eyes wide as a scared kitten's. Lora, thinking of that now and remembering what her father had said, thought, \"I suppose she's read the papers!\" and lifted her chin defiantly. As though she cared what Lottie thought\u2014what anyone thought!\n\nShe decided to clean out her desk. It would give her something to do. Her father had warned her not to go out or answer the telephone. \"There may be reporters hanging around.\" But it was hard being shut in here with nothing to do, nothing more to do now but wait. Wait for Earle to recover\u2014or die. And so she cleaned out her desk. The drawers were cluttered with wrinkled invitations and place cards.\nand silly, girlish letters from her schoolmates\u2014 \"Darling Lora, last night at Chloe's party I met the most marvelous man and is he a man, darling!\"\u2014 \"Dear Lora, You're lucky to have a cold because Miss Childs has one too and she got Miss Harriss into sub and she gave us all detention simply because Lois tried to swallow a sneeze and we couldn't help laughing honestly, it was so funny\"\u2014 Lora tore the letters up. Had they really been written to her! Had she ever been so young? At one Lottie came to say that lunch was served and Lora went out to the dining room. There was only one place set and it looked lost there on the long, polished table. If it had not been for Lottie waiting behind her chair, Lora would have gone back to her room. But Lottie, in her little waiting apron and cap and with her eyes bigger than ever, was watching.\nHer and Lora smiled at her brightly and sat down, to her fruit cup and creamed chicken. It seemed to her that Lottie and perhaps even the cook in the kitchen must hear every mouthful squeeze its way down her throat; the place was so still. It was the silence that made everything seem so much more dreadful for the Paris apartment was usually anything but silent. Always when Lora had been home from school, the place had rung with young voices and reverberated with young feet. Last Easter, Joan had spent the holidays with Lora and Joan's brother and a classmate had come to New York for their vacation. Hay had brought a bony, pink-haired boy home with him. The apartment had been alive with happy sounds\u2014 the clank of the little boys' roller skates, telephone bells ringing, running feet and stifled laughter and messenger boys.\n\"No, thanks, I don't believe I care for any fruit, Lottie.\" She hurried back to her room, tiptoeing past her mother's closed door, and lay face down on her bed. For the first time in her life, she felt completely alone and friendless, shut out from everything that had been dear and familiar, ostracized, despised, a pariah. She had only Judd now. He was all her world, but how much more wholly was he hers because of what he had cost her! How much more perfect and complete was her love now that she had discarded all other loves for him? It was not like that. It was rather as though she had poured all her other loves and fidelities into her love for Judd, strengthening and enriching it beyond price. Lying on her bed with the blurred beat of the city sounding against the silence of her room, these\"\nthoughts formed in Lora's mind. She built them into a brave defense against her lonely despair until she had achieved a state of ecstatic martyrdom. Judd was in jail, she might not see him for years, but what of that? Love like theirs was deathless, it had already survived so much, what were a few paltry years\u2014\n\nShe fell asleep, her cheek pillowed on her small, doubled fist, her slender body lax as an exhausted puppy's. And, sleeping, the fever of those weeks of passion and defiance and despair left her. Her young face in its frame of sunny hair was the sweet, untroubled face of the picture in the paper that morning\u2014\n\nBefore Judd Harcott Came Into Her Life.\n\nShe was roused by Lottie standing beside her bed and sat up, saw that the room was dark save for the faintly luminous windows. Lottie was saying, \"Lora, wake up, dear. It's time for your appointment.\"\nMr. Cliff Sidney is on the telephone, Miss Lora. I wouldn't have woken you but he said it was very important.\n\nLora was out of the room, flying down the hall, crying into the telephone. \"Cliff! What is it? Tell me quick!\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\n\"Is that you, darling? Well, I just wanted to tell you that everything's okay. Judd's out\u2014 out meaning Earle's all right?\"\n\n\"He's doing fine\u2014 the governor issued Judd's reprieve like a little gentleman a couple of hours ago. I just left him\u2014 Judd, I mean. He's gone over to the hotel where his folks are staying, to shave and clean up a bit then he's coming to town to see you. He asked me to call you and date you up if you were in town. I tried to get you at Lockwood first\u2014\"\n\n\"Oh, Cliff! My\u2014 my teeth are chattering! Can you hear them? I'm so glad! Listen, how is he\u2014 I mean, how does he look and act and everything?\"\n\"Great. Old Presidy's going to forgive him and take him back. Everything's rosy and he's swell\u2014 except he's pretty mad about all those newspaper stories. He says after he sees you, he's going to beat up every editor that printed the stuff.\n\nOh, he mustn't do that. You tell him he can't do that, Cliff. Who cares about things like that now?\n\nHe said, \"Well, you've got to admit they did make him look like an ass. But he's even madder about the things they said about you.\"\n\nWell, you tell him I don't care a bit. I knew he wouldn't like it much but I thought it might help in case Earl\u2014 in case anything happened. I thought they might let him off easier if I made it look as though it was my fault.\"\n\n\"You made\u2014 wait a minute! Are you trying to tell me all that tripe was true? You actually said all those things?\"\n\"Yes, of course. And you let them throw me out of Lockwood?\" \"I was going to leave anyway. Truly, I was, darling. Stop cursing!\" \"I'm not cursing, little one. I'm moaning. I just pinched myself to make sure I was awake and it hurt.\" \"I guess it was pretty silly, but I was scared to death that Earle might not get well, and so I happened to think up some extenuating circumstances. That's what Judd's mother called them. You see, it was really her idea. I just kind of helped it along.\"\n\nHe said, \"Judd's mother!\" in a queer voice, and she told him how Marie had come to Lockwood looking for extenuating circumstances. She laughed as she told it, for it did sound amusing, now. But when she asked Cliff if he didn't think it was terribly funny, he said, \"Not particularly,\" in that same queer voice. Then Cliff told her that Judd was taking the\"\nLora quickly told him not to come to the house. She couldn't even have Judd come, and they decided she was to meet him at the Plaza at eight. \"That lounge place, just outside the Persian room,\" Cliff said. It was too bad things had to be this way, but in her heart, Lora was glad. Their love had flourished in secret places, on dissensions and deceit. They would ask for no favors now. They would stand alone against the world.\n\nIo l |/R. And Mrs. Harcott had occupied a suite in Haverton's best hotel, The Fieldston, during Judd's incarceration. It was here the happy reunion of the three took place after Judd's release. The door was firmly closed against idly curious and well-wishers alike, and it was here that Marie Harcott \"gave\"\nA woman, overwrought with emotions, wept on her tall son's shoulder. Her sobs poured out her heart. A big woman crying is dreadful, especially if she is your mother. It was a bad moment for Judd, and his own tears fell on her graying hair. He patted her shoulder awkwardly, forgetting his grievances, remembering only that she was his mother. Bailey Harcott, pacing the room with his hands in his pockets and his face pinker than usual, urged, \"Come on, come on, now, mother. Cheer up\u2014 it's all over. You know.\" Then he turned to Judd as man to man, \"Funny thing\u2014that's your mother. It's when everything's all over she breaks. That's the way she's always been. Come on, mother, we've got to be in shape for our dinner party\u2014we've got to crack that bottle of champagne, you know.\" She quieted at last, bathed her face, and lay down.\n\nAnd Both Were Young (173)\n\nShe quieted at last, bathed her face, and lay down.\nJudd sat on the sofa. He hadn't felt like shaving that morning and decided to do it then. When he went into the bathroom, his mother said, \"Leave the door ajar, darling,\" in a pleading voice, like a little girl. \"I know I'm silly, but do it just to humor me.\" Moved by their forgiving attitude, Judd left the bathroom door ajar and shaved his thin cheeks - he had lost pounds the last three days. He wondered how he was going to get out of the dinner party, how he was to make them understand that he must see Lora that night. If it was true they had thrown her out of college - the thought cost him a nasty cut on the cheek. He mustn't think of it. Mustn't think of any of it right now. He was shaky as a palsied old woman. He had half finished shaving when he heard Cliff.\nArrive. Judd's first impulse was to call him into the bathroom where they could speak together in privacy. But he resisted the temptation. There had been enough behind-doors whispering where he and Lora were concerned. There had to be a showdown now. His parents must be made to see Lora as he saw her; they must be made to realize that this \"romance\" of his was a serious matter. He was willing to admit that he'd been an impetuous fool, more than willing to admit that they'd been darned sporting about this other awful business. But if they could be big about that, they could be big about Lora, too. It was, of course, too bad he had to force the issue at this particular time. If things had been different, if it hadn't been for all that stuff in the papers, he would have waited. But he couldn't let Lora wait.\nHe tied his cravat with shaking fingers and walked briskly into the sitting room. \"Hi, Cliff! I've been washing off the shadow of my prison bars,\" he said, and then, loud and hearty, \"Well, how's Lora? Did you get her on the phone?\" Cliff said easily, \"Yes. She's fine. Almost dropped dead with joy when I broke the news.\" They looked steadily at each other, not a glance for Marie or Bailey Harcott. \"I guess she's been pretty worried, poor kid,\" Judd said. \"Did you ask her about that\u2014 is it true about the Lockwood business?\" \"Yes. It's true. They let her out, all right. She's home in town.\" \"They let her out, did they?\" He took his hands out of his pockets and looked at his watch. \"Tell her I wanted to see her tonight.\" \"Yes. That's okay. She said she'd meet you at...\"\n\"the Plaza at eight. The lounge just inside the Fifth Avenue entrance.\n\n\"Sorry to break up that party you were talking about,\" Judd said, looking straight at his mother. \"I wish you'd postpone it until tomorrow. I've got to see Lora tonight.\"\n\nMarie Harcott's face looked stiff, a gray mask. She dropped her feet to the floor and sat up on the couch. \"Would you-actually leave us-tonight-for that girl, Judd?\"\n\n\"Now, mother, that's something-\" Judd began but his father, who had been standing near the window, came over to the couch. He lifted his hand and held it, shaking a little, before Judd's face. \"Wait a minute-don't say any more, Judd. I hadn't meant to go into this tonight-your mother and I thought we'd kind of dedicate tonight to you.\"\n\"You needn't go, Cliff. You know as much about this as the rest of us. He certainly does. He knows how I feel about Lora and why I \u2013 Exactly. I have seen the President, and he called a special meeting of the board to discuss your case, Judd. I spoke at length, and they are willing to accept your apology and pledge for future good behavior and reinstate you in your class \u2013 but with one provision. That is, that you break off with this girl. That you break with her finally and completely. They didn't say it in so many words.\"\nThey could take it for granted that your affair with the girl was at an end. That's the way they feel about it. Judd looked at him, looked at his mother. The fresh pink had left his newly shaven cheeks; his chin was trembling. \"That's the way you feel\u2014 that's what you mean, isn't it?\" \"You could hardly expect us to feel otherwise, but our opinion had nothing to do with their decision. Those newspaper stories this morning\u2014\" \"They were lies! I told you that this morning!\" He wagged his head hopelessly. \"This would be funny if it weren't so tragic. Lora Paris is the one those newspaper stories have hurt\u2014 she's been thrown out of college because of them. Because of me, really. That's why I've got to see her tonight. I've got to straighten this out somehow\u2014\" \"They weren't lies,\" Marie Harcott said. Her eyes glittered in her gray face. \"Every word attributed to you was true.\"\nI was there, and the things she said in those stories were true. The girl refused to see me, and the dean allowed me to be present during their questioning of her.\n\n\"You were there!\" Judd exclaimed, staring down at his mother in disbelief. \"You heard her say all those things about us?\"\n\n\"I had no intention of telling you tonight, but perhaps it's better for you to know at once,\" Bailey Harcott said. \"A respectable university cannot help but object to a student being mixed up with a girl like that. I admit she was an attractive little thing. I can understand how she'd have a good deal of appeal for the opposite sex.\"\n\"Judd's laugh interrupted, \"Wait a minute! I'm confused. I tell you Lora couldn't have said those things. They said she admitted we would have run off and been married if I hadn't been arrested. But she couldn't have said that because I wanted her to do so, and she refused. She was trying to make me come back \u2013 she was worried to death I'd lose my degree. Cliff spoke up in his easy, unruffled voice, \"I think I can clear up this mystery. Lora came up with all that because she thought it might help you, in case Earle's threat came to trial. She had some strange idea\".\"\nIf she took as much blame as she could, it might make Judd's case look better. She's pretty sick about it now, but her intentions were good - if a little unconventional.\n\nJudd simply stared stupidly at his friend, but Marie Harcott sprang to her feet. She said, \"Unconventional! I never heard such a ridiculous story!\"\n\nJudd said, still staring at Cliff, light and color flowing into his face until it was radiant, \"She did - she said - she did that for me - God!\" He turned and caught his mother's hands, swung them wide. \"Did you hear that? Didn't I tell you they were lies - but that's the sort of thing she would do! That's like her - to try and take all the blame - let 'em chuck her out of college! Listen, did you ever hear anything so crazy - or so grand!\"\n\nBut she jerked her hands away, her gray face had turned scarlet. \"It certainly is crazy - it sounds too unbelievable.\"\nIf it's true. I fail to see anything grand about it. You said the same thing when you read the papers this morning. You called yourself feeble-minded\u2014 a cad\u2014.\n\n\"That's true,\" Bailey Harcott said. \"She's done you more harm than good, if you ask me. And it won't help you with the college faculty. You can't expect them to believe an asinine story like that,\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nJudd looked from his father to his mother. He said quietly, \"No. I couldn't expect them to believe it. You believe it, though, don't you? But it doesn't make any difference\u2014 it doesn't make you hate Lora any less, does it?\"\n\nHis mother cried, \"Why shouldn't we hate her? Ever since you've known her\u2014from the very first day\u2014she's brought you nothing but misery!\"\n\n\"Oh, no, she hasn't,\" Judd said. \"But you have.\"\n\"You haven't meant to, I know. Your intentions were good - as we just said about Lora. But if you hadn't hated her, if you'd tried to like her, for my sake, none of this would have happened. We had reason to hate her - not at first, you didn't! You have now, though. I admit that. But she has plenty of reason to hate you too. Don't you suppose I know now why you went up to Lockwood? You went up there to bully and browbeat her into incriminating herself. I went up there to ask her a few civil questions. Well, she answered them. You've never been even that - you've never been even civil to her. You talk of what she's done.\"\nTo me\u2014look what I\u2019ve done to her! The secret of Marie's hold on her two devoted men was her freedom from pettiness and reasonableness. Deep down in her heart, as she looked at Judd and watched him getting into his coat, reason was warning her to beware. But its voice was muffled under such a passion of resentment and despair and anguish that she could not have heeded it if she would. She looked at her tall son, who had been the hero of every brave tale she had read since his birth, the star of every play, the voice of every singer; a better president and king than had ever ruled the world, and saw him turning from her for a sunny-haired girl he had known for a briefer time than he had nursed at his mother\u2019s breast. The girl who had precipitated the first harsh words between them.\n\"them, who had caused many sleepless nights and terrible days, who had nearly made a murderer of him. In her desperation, she threw down that dreadful, futile ultimatum which is the last card on which desperate mothers have risked their all since mothers and sons have existed.\n\n\"Judd, where are you going?\" she said, without rage, the voice of a woman slowly strangling.\n\n\"I've told you, I'm going to see Lora\u2014 I've got to. I can't think of anything\u2014 can't do anything, until I've seen her. I'm sorry you feel the way you do\u2014 but I've got to go.\"\n\nShe said, \"If you do\u2014 if you go to her now\u2014 after all this\u2014 you need never come back to us again. I mean that. Your father will back me up, I know. I've borne all I can bear.\"\n\nBailey said, \"That's right, son. Your mother's right. We've stood more from you than most parents.\"\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young (181)\n\"You'd actually do it! You'd renounce your own mother and father for\u2014 I'm not renouncing anybody,' Judd said. 'I'm going, that's all.' His voice rose, he cried out, 'I'm just going\u2014 that's all!' and went. Eight o'clock at the Plaza! The words sang to Lora as she dressed. She felt so light as she went from\"\ndressing table to closet, to the desk to smile on Judd\u2019s picture\u2014 so light! Like one of those bubbly balloons you buy at the circus. If you let go of it, off it floats, dancing and bobbing over the treetops. If she really let herself go, that's what she would do\u2014 go floating up and up, bumping her head against the ceiling\u2014 a silly idea, but how could she help being silly now that everything was all right again, now that all this terrible business was over?\n\nIt was all over. Judd was free, Earle wasn't going to die, none of the terrible things she had feared had happened. She might have known they wouldn't. Men didn't die of a sock on the nose. She felt sheepish when she thought back over those brief, dreadful three days. She had lost her head but how could she have helped it? And so had everyone else.\nShe looked at her mother and Mrs. Harcott. They would be all right too. They would know, as they had never known before, how useless it was for them to try to part true lovers!\n\nShe put on the hand-drawn linen blouse and blue wool skirt of her new town suit. Judd had never seen her in city clothes, and her new suit was the most grown-up, the smartest suit she'd ever had. There was no fur on the collar, but she wore two little brown animals that looked like sables with it, and her small felt hat was very small and chic\u2014 Judd probably wouldn't even recognize her at first. Darling-darling,\n\nShe unscrewed the top of her lipstick absently, thinking\u2014Judd graduating in June. Bachelor of Arts. She would go to Haverton\u2014she would see him in his cap and gown, erect and handsome.\nAnd they were both young, 18 years old, up there on the platform receiving his diploma in June. It wasn't long to wait\u2014 November, December\u2014 but November was already launched and it was a short month and February was even shorter. Six months\u2014well, seven, then. A June wedding with marguerites and dogwood\u2014no, dogwood came earlier.\n\nLora Paris and Judd Harcott wed at a simple ceremony. It was not yet seven and here she was all dressed and presently dinner would be announced and she would have to go through the motions of eating it. She would have to tell the family the good news about Judd and perhaps they wouldn't have calmed down yet, which would make it hard. On the other hand, her mother might not be well enough to come to the table and her father might take his dinner in the bedroom, too. She hoped fervently that this would not be the case.\nShe decided to do a little reconnoitering\u2014see if the table had been set for three. She opened her door softly and tiptoed along the hall. Suddenly, she heard voices in the living room. One voice thudded against her heart with awful significance, and she could scarcely breathe. She stopped in the doorway and stood staring. There was her father in the middle of the room, and her mother on the sofa in negligee and slippers, her hair pinned up in a comical uncombed knot. Beside her sat Hay, still in his overcoat, twirling his hat round and round and saying in that half-man, half-boy voice of his, \u201cI don\u2019t care! D\u2019you think I was going to stand around and wait for you?\u201d\nfor em saying things like that about my own sister! Making a lot of wisecracks, standing around whispering and giggling? I told them all that stuff in the papers was lies but when they didn't pipe down I laid them out\u2014 I laid three of them out cold! The three had not been laid out cold however without a struggle. Hay's right eye was nearly closed, a swollen slit in a cushion of blue and green and yellow. There was a long ragged scratch along his left cheek, his upper lip was twice its normal size.\n\nThen old Pepper had the nerve to call me down! I told him they insulted my sister but all he said was it was unfortunate for people to get their names in the papers because then when people did that they laid themselves open to criticism. That's all he cared! Then he told me to report to the headmaster.\nBut I didn't stop. I kept going till I reached the railroad station. You can bet I'm not going back to that lousy school! All this time Julia had not moved. She sat tense and still, her underlip caught between her teeth. Now she asked, \"Did you do anything for your eye, darling? Does it hurt much?\" And Both Were Young\n\n\"Naw! It doesn't hurt at all.\"\n\n\"I'd better get the witch hazel\u2014\"\n\nBut Lora cried, \"I'll get it!\" and flew to the bathroom and grabbed the bottle and cotton from the shelf. When she turned around, she found her mother behind her.\n\nJulia demanded, \"Give it to me!\" and snatched it back, running back to the living room.\n\nHay said, \"Aw, don't make such a fuss over nothing,\" and glanced up, spying Lora standing in the doorway again. \"Hi, sis!\"\n\"She came in and stood beside the couch. \"Wouldn't raw beef be better? I can ask Mary-\" But her mother ignored her, held out a piece of soaked cotton to Hay. \"Hold this against your eye, dear\u2014 here, let me help you take off your coat first.\" \"Aw-w\u2014 \" But he took off his coat and plastered the wet cotton over his eye while his mother bathed the scratched cheek.\n\n\"How did you find your way home from the station, darling?\"\n\n\"I just took a taxi. I was a little short so I borrowed the fare from the doorman. Will you pay him back, mum?\"\n\n\"I will, dear,\" Lora said and reached out to smooth down his mussed hair.\n\nJulia, quick and savage as an angry cat, lifted her hand and struck Lora's away. \"Keep your hands off him? Haven't you done enough?\"\n\nGeorge, who had not spoken, spoke now. \"Better go.\"\"\nHe told Lora to go back to her room, and she hurried out. She hurried down the hall to her room, closed the door, and leaned against it, still seeing her brother's battered face and feeling her mother's hand on her. Footsteps echoed in the hall, sounds came from Hay's room. \"I don\u2019t wanna go to bed! I\u2019m all right! What\u2019s a black eye?\" Lora heard her father's voice, \"Now, do as your mother says, old man,\" followed by the sound of dishes being put away. Hay was having his dinner in bed.\n\nThe little clock on her dresser read seven-fifteen, seven-thirty, a quarter to eight. No dinner gong had sounded. Her parents' voices came from their own room now. Lora went to the dressing table and repowdered her nose. She thought,\n\"I mustn't forget to pay the doorman.\" She brushed her hair and put on her coat and hat and furs. She did this hurriedly and stealthily, for suddenly there was a new and shapeless terror at her heart. She dared not let it take definite form. If she did, she would never get to Judd because the thing she was afraid of now was herself! Some new part of herself was heartsick and weary and ashamed, and at the same time very old and calm. And that new part of her didn't want to go meet Judd! It just wanted to lie down and cry and cry and cry\u2014\n\nBut that was absurd and cowardly. She whipped up her flagging ecstasy\u2014ecstasy and deep despair and reckless courage\u2014these were the things on which her love had flourished. She grabbed up her gloves and purse and opened the door, turning the knob.\nA young woman softly looked into her father's face. He had raised his hand to knock, then dropped it and said, \"I was just coming in to speak-\" and stopped, his eyes scanning her. \"Were you going out?\"\n\n\"Yes. I- just for a little while.\"\n\nJulia was by her husband's side in an instant. She was still in her negligee, the comical knot of hair had come undone, her eyes and cheeks were red and bloated from crying. She spoke in a low voice, harsh on Hay's account, and more terrible than a scream, \"Where? Ask her where she was going!\"\n\n\"I'm going to meet Judd. He's out- of jail- I was going to tell you later. He's all right- Earle's all right-\"\n\n\"I knew it!\" Julia exclaimed, still in that terrible pressed voice. \"She'd go- even now- even now-\"\n\nGeorge flung an arm around her shoulder.\nGeorge pushed her gently into Lora's room. Lora made way for her, and George closed the door. Lora said, \"I wasn't going to mention it\u2014 I was afraid you wouldn't want to hear about it right now\u2014 but Judd's coming into town specifically to see me. It's only for a little while\u2014 he's going back to college\u2014 they're taking him back, you know, so everything's all right. But I have to go.\"\n\n\"Perhaps you don't know,\" George replied, \"that your brother has run away from school. Perhaps you don't know how he acquired his interesting wounds.\"\n\n\"Does she care?\" George's wife exclaimed. \"Does she care about him\u2014 about any of us!\"\n\n\"I do care!\" George insisted, \"I'm terribly sorry, Mother. But don't you see, everything's going to be all right now, Mother. Don't you see, everything is\u2014\"\n\n\"You think so, do you?\" her father said, a man controlling himself at tremendous cost. \"Everything's going to be all right?\"\n\"You're not going to meet that boy tonight or any other night. I'm not letting you go. I should have treated you like a lunatic long ago. I wish I had. You've disgraced us, and your brother and mother can testify. They'd rather see Judd dead than married to you. You'll put on your best clothes and go meet him? I'll gag and tie you up if I have to.\n\nJulia covered her face with her hands and Lora recoiled from the man who had been her kind father. He advanced.\"\nUpon her, his face savage with fury. \"Are you really so blind as to believe that things can ever be all right for you and that boy again?\"\n\nHe stopped, breathing hard and loud, when he was almost upon her. Lora, feeling the dressing table behind her, leaned against it. She was a little faint and sick but not too sick to marvel that her father had worded that new terror of hers so accurately. For she had known after she had seen Hay sitting there all battered up that things could not be all right between her and Judd. Things cannot be all right with two people when they are both wrong with the rest of their world. The pattern of life was too closely woven. You could not take away two single threads without unraveling the whole.\n\n\"Now,\" George said, \"am I going to have to use force or will you stay of your own free will?\"\nShe nodded quickly so he wouldn't say anything more while she was trying to find the strength to speak. And, after a little, she said, \"I'll stay \u2013 I won't go. I'll stay.\"\n\nShe saw her mother's head droop lower and her father said, \"Good. Someday when you're older\u2013 when you've recovered your senses, you'll thank us for this.\"\n\nShe nodded again and lifted the little blue hat off her head. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"And so will Judd Harcott. You can bet if his folks knew he was planning to meet you tonight they'd rather have kept him in jail.\"\n\n\"Yes. But\u2013 I ought to let him know\u2013 he's waiting there. He'll be terribly worried\u2013 he won't know what to think\u2013\"\n\n\"Well, when he gets worried enough, he'll probably call up.\" He looked steadily into her white face. \"If he does, what shall I say? That if he doesn't keep quiet, I'll tell your father?\"\nShe considered it, holding hard to the edge of the dressing table. It must be something final, something from which there would be no appeal, something that wouldn't leave any ends hanging out for him. He had to be made to see now that there was no use.\n\n\"Tell him,\" she said slowly, \"that it just isn't any use. Tell him I said to go home and forget me because - it just isn't - any use.\"\n\nV\u2014 or a little while Judd waited outside the main entrance to the Plaza, watching every cab as it drew into the curb, with his heart in his mouth. But the chill of the November night soon forced him inside where he stood for the next fifteen minutes with his eyes glued to the revolving doors. At twenty past eight he left his post for a hasty search.\nOf the two side entrances, he dashed back to the main lounge, fearful that Lora had arrived in his absence. At 8:25, he sat down on a broad sofa from which he could see the door. He had eaten nothing for hours and the strain of the past few days seemed to be showing up in his knees. He told himself he was silly to worry about Lora. He couldn't expect her to be punctual at this hour with theater traffic congesting the streets. Moreover, she might have understood Cliff to mean half past eight.\n\nHe relaxed despite himself, lit a cigarette. It seemed odd to be sitting here alone in a hotel lounge, not having to worry about classes or trains, with only a few dollars in his pocket and little more in the bank. He hadn't thought of this before\u2014hadn't considered where he was going to sleep that night.\n\n20s and Both Were Young.\nHe freely closed his mind - as he had done two hours ago - to every thought but Lora. After seeing Lora, he could concentrate on the future. She had been a part of that future for a long time, now she was all of it. As he was likely all of hers. Her parents were undoubtedly as furious and far from understanding as his. Now they would have only each other; alone together they would face the world.\n\nThe thought was as stirring as an old martial tune, and Judd's shoulders squared to it. He would show them! But coolly, now, sensibly. He had learned his lesson. He would get a job - some minor post in a bank, perhaps, where he could work himself up - then he and Lora would be married. They would have a quiet wedding to which, of course, he would invite his parents. They probably would refuse to attend.\nBut after a while, after they had cooled off, they'd come round. He would be glad when that time came. It gave a man a nasty feeling to be on the outs with his father and mother. He hoped that in his anger he had said nothing too bitter, too irrevocable. He wished they had understood things better. It would be fine if someone would invent a kind of contraption that would take a picture of a man's thoughts. That would save a lot of trouble and misunderstanding\u2014if people could look into your mind and see the truth.\n\nA man sitting on the other end of the sofa let out a grunt. Judd glanced at him. He was a round, pink, well-fed, overdressed little man. Remarking companionably to Judd, \"See they've let that college boy off\u2014that young Harcott who beat up his wife.\"\n\"Judd said gravely, \"Is that so? The guy he socked is out of danger.\" He laid the paper on his knee and wagged his head at Judd. \"But that's just his good luck. Might just as easily have died and landed this Harcourt boy in prison for manslaughter or whatever they call it. And that's all the good this higher education would have done him.\" Judd glanced at the door and back at the fat man. \"I take it you don't approve of the higher education. \" \"You said it, I don't. It's not normal for a grown man to go to school, fool around with books and things. The best school is life, I always say. You can learn more from life in one year than you can at any college in four. And what you learn will be of some use to you.\" The massive diamond on his plump, pink hand glittered as he waved it to emphasize his point. \"\n\n(Note: The text appears to be complete and does not contain any meaningless or unreadable content, OCR errors, or other issues that require cleaning. Therefore, no cleaning is necessary.)\nA grown man needs responsibilities. I was earning my own way when I was eleven \u2014 selling papers, sweeping sidewalks \u2014 any odd job I could get. Now look at me.\" Judd looked and the fat man said, \"Now, I'm president of the biggest paper company in the United States with more than four thousand men under me\u2014 a lot of them college graduates, too! That's what not going to college did for me.\"\n\n\"Well, that's fine,\" Judd said, trying to think of the name of the biggest paper company in the United States and wondering if, perhaps, the fat man's name wasn't Fate and if paper might not offer a better future than a bank teller's cage. He said warmly, \"I wouldn't be surprised but what you're right.\" Considering in his mind how he could approach the fat man on the subject of a job. That would be a joke,\n\"You bet I'm right! Take the Harcott boy for instance. Look at his record - chasing after that little gold digger, mixed up in drunken brawls, being chuckled into jail - what good has college done him? It's ruined him, that's what! His goose is cooked.\" Judd said.\n\n\"Sure it is! What's he going to do for a living when he gets through up there? Who'd want a man like that working for them? No sirree, his goose is cooked.\"\n\nAnd Both Were Young (195)\n\nJudd repeated that he didn't know about that, a little belligerently this time, and excused himself, getting up. He glanced at his watch, saw that it was twenty to nine, and went hurrying across the lounge toward the telephone booths.\n\nGeorge Paris delivered Lora's message to Judd very clearly and evenly, and Judd understood.\nBut he appeared not to have understood at all. He said he was afraid there must be some mistake, that Lora had agreed to meet him at eight and hadn't come. He said the only reason he hadn't come to the house for Lora was because they both realized he wouldn't be very welcome right now.\n\n\"But I'm afraid you don't understand me,\" George said. He knew it was his right as an outraged father and grossly wronged man to hang up on that contrite, importunate voice. But he remembered the long-legged, honest-eyed, courteous boy of last summer and couldn't bring himself to do it.\n\n\"I've given you Lora's message,\" he said. \"Exactly as she gave it to me. I think she's made a very sensible decision\u2014for both of you\u2014\"\n\n\"But, just a minute, Mr. Paris, I don't blame you for feeling\u2014\"\n\"George said firmly and loudly to Judd, \"Lora doesn't want to see you - tonight or ever.\" He then hung up.\n\nJudd hung up as well and sat, motionless in the small, enclosed telephone booth. It was the image of a pretty girl, all orchids and satin, with slim bare shoulders, staring at him through the glass and jiggling a nickel impatiently in her palm, that spurred him into action. Other pretty girls and men in evening clothes were checking their things at the hat check counter opposite the booth, looking happy and festive. Someone in the Persian Room was singing, \"Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.\" Judd crossed the lounge, walking straight and slowly, a small frown between his eyes. He stopped\"\nHe sat beside an enormous, ornate throne-like chair in the hotel lounge and rested his hand on its carved back. He wasn't conscious of any emotion or sensation save a terrible conspicuousness, standing alone beside that ridiculous chair with people milling about him. He felt as though he were seven feet tall with a spotlight focused square on his face, unable to do anything about it because he couldn't think what to do or where to go\u2014 couldn't have gone anyway for his knees were like melted butter and his empty stomach writhing with nausea. He closed his eyes and opened them again, set his teeth and hung on to the big chair. The thing to do was to get somewhere where he could be alone, think what to do next. In the meantime, look around.\nEstablished, pretend you were waiting for somebody who was late. Maybe - he ought to be able to do that. That was what he had been doing since eight o'clock. He was suddenly aware of the swirl of long skirts near him, a fugitive hint of perfume, and found little golden-haired, blue-eyed Hannah Vines beside him. She said, \"Judd! I thought it was you, darling!\"\n\nHis fingers tightened on the chairback. He said loudly, \"Well, well, if it isn't little Hannah!\"\n\n\"Darling, where did you come from?\"\n\n\"What? Who, me? I just got out of jail- didn't you know?\"\n\n\"I wasn't sure. The paper didn't say you were actually out, darling! Isn't it marvelous?- I suppose Earle's all right. I nearly died when I heard- I've always loathed that man. And to think of them putting you in jail!\"\n\n\"Behind bars,\" he said, \"like this!\" and stooped.\n\"and he grinned at her through the carved chairback.\n\"I bet I'm the only man you know with a prison record.\"\nShe laughed and put her hand on his arm. \"You aren't! Judd, listen. I'm with some people\u2014 we're going into the Persian Room for dinner. Come on with us and tell us all about it.\"\n\"198 And Both Were Young\n\"Sorry, darling, but I\u2014 I've got a date. I'm celebrating my freedom\u2014\"\n\"Well, celebrate with us. Come on! You look hungry\u2014 you look frightful\u2014\"\n\"That's one thing you can say for our jails,\" he said. \"They set a grand table\u2014 nothing fancy, you understand, but good home cooking\u2014\"\n\"Idiot!\" she said and shook his arm playfully. \"Judd, I'm dying to talk to you and I may not see you again. I'm sailing for France Wednesday\u2014 and that's something else! Who do you think is sailing on the same ship?\"'\nHis fingers were numb on the chair; he couldn't hang on much longer. \"I give up, darling; I'm no good at guessing. Who?\"\n\n\"The Paris\u2014 Lora and her mother and brother.\"\n\nHe took hold of the chair with the other hand now, and leaned to her. \"They are? Sailing\u2014 for France?\"\n\n\"I rather thought you wouldn't know\u2014 I just this minute heard about it myself. I ran into Geordie Fields and he told me. I wasn't especially surprised\u2014I mean, I rather imagined that you and Lora\u2014 that that was all over now!\"\n\n\"Smart girl!\" he said.\n\n\"Geordie said\u2014 you know he's something pretty important at the French Line\u2014 he said Mr. Paris called him up at his house tonight and asked him to personally attend to the reservations and keep their name off the sailing list.\"\n\nJudd said, \"That's a good idea\u2014 keeping their names off the list.\"\nShe said slowly, wagging her smooth yellow head at him, \"You mustn't let it get you down, darling. I can see you are down\u2014 you look awful, darling\u2014 but you mustn't. No one blames you. Everyone who knows you just feels terribly sorry for you.\"\n\n\"That's nice,\" he replied quickly, grinning at her. \"I'd like to stay and hear more but I've got to go\u2014 good-bye, darling. Have a nice trip.\"\n\nHis abrupt departure left her staring at his broad, flat back before she could answer. She watched him go, her pretty mouth hardening. He was walking straight enough but she was pretty sure he was drunk. With her friends undoubtedly watching her from across the lounge, it would be inconvenient.\nThe clerk thought Judd was drunk and demanded a room for the night, but Judd was actually seasick for the first time in his life. He reached his room and lay down on the bed, his head aching.\nIntolerable and for a time, the physical pain served as an anesthesia against the sharper agonies of his spirit. But inevitably that lifted, leaving his mind clear as a polished mirror, reflecting the facts ruthlessly. It was perhaps the first time in months that Judd had had a clear perspective of himself and his condition; the first time in months his thoughts had not been stewing and smoking in some emotional brew. He was calm enough now, calm as death itself. Lora had gone. That, as little Hannah had said, was \"all over.\" It did not occur to him to question the finality of her message. He had known when he had left the telephone booth that it was final. Finished. It was almost as though he had been expecting it. It seemed to him now that he had been expecting it, as though he had known all along that the thing was doomed.\nFor the given input text, no cleaning is necessary as it is already in a readable format. Therefore, I will simply output the text as it is:\n\nfeverish months had established between him and Lora. It was too tense and fierce and violent a thing to endure. You couldn\u2019t sail through life on a Roman candle. There might, he thought, have been something else for them, something strong and quiet and deep. Lasting. In the beginning they had had that. But they had killed it. They had run it out of breath. So what? So Lora was through\u2014little Lora without the U. Last summer he had been unable to bear the thought of leaving her even for a few weeks, of putting even a few miles between them. Now she was gone forever and presently she would have put three thousand miles between them. Well, that was sensible of her. He wished he could put three thousand miles between him and himself. But here he was with no Lora, no family, no college, no job, hung high and dry in \u201cthe wrecks of matter and the crush\u201d\n\"of worlds! 'Crash' of old worlds. Maybe he meant crash. Funny he should think of Addison. That was the higher education, as the fat man had called it. 'His goose is cooked,' the fat man had said. Judd rolled over and lay on his face, remembering the last night he had slept in a cell not knowing if Earle was alive or dead. The bunk had been too short; he had to sleep with his knees drawn up as he always did in the Reckless. But he hadn't minded on the Reckless. He'd better sell his interest in the Reckless back to Cliff. He'd need the money. And he'd better telegraph Cliff to bring in his things. He didn't even have a pair of pajamas. Fancy sleeping at a ritzy hotel in your underdrawers\u2014 Cliff arrived at nine the next morning with Judd's bags. He took a look at his friend and ordered up breakfast.\"\nJudd lay in bed, his bare, muscular arms clasped under his head. \"Why should I get up?\" he asked, \"there's nothing to get up for. No classes, no dates, no anything.\" He declared, \"In me, you see that mythical character\u2014 a free man.\" He tested to ensure he wasn't hungry but propped himself up and sipped coffee. He told Cliff about Lora. Cliff listened carefully, spreading marmalade on his toast without looking at his friend's face. He had cut two classes for Judd that morning, and the interview was one of the saddest he had ever known, filled with memories and regrets. But his thin, pleasant face remained expressionless as Judd's voice shared that Lora had left him, that he didn't blame her, and that was that.\n\nWhen he had finished, Cliff said the usual things.\nHe supposed the Parisians were sore, but they'll get over it, give them time. Judd said, \"No, they won't get over it. It isn't only the old folks; it's Lora. She's had enough. By the way, you don't want to buy back my interest in the Reckless, do you?\" Cliff got up and walked to the window, looking down on the city ten stories below. For a change, the sun was shining, patches of green gave a specious summer look to the Park, and the streets were alive with brisk, normal-appearing human beings moving about their affairs. Cliff turned resentfully from the sight. \"Look here, Judd,\" he said, \"your family's still at the Fieldston. I understand they're not leaving for Cleveland until late today. Now that this other business has fallen through, why don't you come on back, finish up the year?\"\n\"Are you kidding? Or have I been overrating your intelligence all these years?\" asked Judd. \"Don't be a sap. Why shouldn't you come back? You've heard that one about cutting off your own nose to spite your face, haven't you?\" \"Yes, but it doesn't apply. My nose is already gone\u2014 not to mention my face. Wouldn't I make one hell of a little college boy now\u2014 an old jailbird like me!\" He sat straight up in bed and looked steadily at Cliff leaning on the footboard. \"And don't talk about \u2018my family.\u2019 I haven't any family. You forget they've \u2018renounced\u2019 me. And when your parents renounce you, that makes you an orphan.\" \"Now you're talking like a damn fool,\" Cliff retorted. \"Orphan,\" Judd repeated. \"Don't forget that. I won't!\" \"Well, what are you going to do?\" Judd pondered.\n\"yet whether I\u2019ll run for President or take up dancing. My record makes me good political material, don\u2019t you think? And besides, there\u2019s my gift for diplomacy\u2014\n\n\"Shut up!\" Cliff shouted. \"You make me sick.\"\n\n\"Don\u2019t you suppose I know that!\" Judd said.\n\nSitting bolt upright there in the middle of the bed with his white, sunken cheeks and his mouth stretched in a broad grin, he looked like a grinning skull. \"Listen, did you ever wonder why worms crawl under things? It\u2019s because they know it makes people sick to look at them.\" He thrust out his hand. \"Go on back to school, old boy. And thanks for everything. Sorry to have dragged you through all this-\"\n\n\"Skip it. What about the rest of your stuff\u2014 and your trunk? Where\u2019ll I get in touch with you?\"\n\n\"I\u2019ll give you a ring one of these days,\" Judd said, meaning it, not knowing that he never would.\"\nThe deck steward said \"Good morning\" and was glad to see Lora on deck again, though he hadn't seen her at all. He tucked Lora's rug around her feet. Afterward, he bustled off to perform the same service for another passenger. Lora dipped her chin into her fur collar and leaned back in her chair. A severe-looking middle-aged lady was on her left, reading \"Mind Versus Soul.\" Two chairs down, a plump man slept with his mouth open. Julia's and Hay's chairs were empty. Hay was likely off playing shuffleboard, and Julia was writing letters inside. A few passengers were walking briskly about the deck, but most were in their chairs, huddled under their rugs, lumpy sausages in a row. The sea was smooth as ice and looked as cold; a cold and lonely waste of blue water and blue sky.\nIt was the first time she had been on deck since she had said good-by to New York. She had stood at the rail on the boat deck between her mother and Hay. Julia had been looking down at George's face in the press of faces along the pier. She had held one hand doubled against her mouth while she waved the other and the tears poured down her cheeks in a steady stream.\n\nLora only remembered that afterwards\u2014 her mother's tears and Hay's excitement and the tumult of sounds all about her. At the time, she had been conscious of only one thing\u2014 of the slow receding of the city. It, and not the ship, seemed to be moving, to be withdrawing slowly into some irrecoverable past. Then it was gone, and the next thing she knew she was lying on her bed in the stateroom she shared with her mother and a jolly, pink-cheeked man was there.\nAssuring Julia that there was no cause for alarm; it was not at all unusual for people to faint from excitement, especially young people. He grinned down at Lora and asked, \"How do you feel now, sister? Okay, eh?\" Lora had nodded her head and smiled at her mother and at Hay, who looked scared to death with his mouth and eyes wide open. She had never fainted before; she thought only mid-Victorian ladies did anything so silly.\n\nThe doctor had advised her mother to keep her in bed the first day or two and feed her up. She struck him as being half starved, he said. And he said excitement did that, too\u2014it took away people's appetites. He left some medicine to make her hungry, and for two days Lora had eaten and slept as much as she could. Her mother uttered no word of reproach; she had been composed and cheery.\nlike  her  normal  self  than  Lora  had  seen  her  in  a \nlong  time.  She  had  spent  a  good  part  of  the  day \nin  the  stateroom  reading  and  talking  to  her  child, \nplanning  what  they  would  do  in  Paris. \n\u201cI  think  you\u2019ll  love  it,  dear.  Goodness,  I  haven\u2019t \nbeen  there  since  you  were  eight\u2014 you  remember \nwhen  you  and  Hay  stayed  with  Grandma  Perkins? \nI  studied  a  book  called  \u2018French  Before  Breakfast\u2019 \nall  the  way  across,  I  remember.  I  wish  I  had  it  now \n\u2014what  is  French  for  \u2018Will  you  direct  me  to  the \nLouvre?\u2019  or  wherever  we  happen  to  be  going?\u201d \nHay  heard  this  and  said  stoutly,  \u201cI  don\u2019t  want  to \ngo  to  any  old  Louvre.  I  want  to  see  the  sewers\u2014 you \nknow  where  Jean  Valjean  went  when  old  Javert \nwas  after  him?\u201d  and  Lora  and  her  mother  had \nlaughed  together. \nBut  this  morning  Julia  had  come  back  from  the \nlibrary  where  she  had  gone  to  get  Lora  a  book  and \nLora saw something had happened. Her mother's cheeks were bright pink, her voice jerky and shrill. \"Who do you think is on board?\" she asked. \"Hannah Vines and her mother\u2014 I just ran into them in the library.\"\n\nLora sat up in bed. \"Hannah! Well, that's funny, isn't it? Are they going to Paris, too?\"\n\n\"I don't know\u2014 they didn't say,\" Julia replied, turning to the dressing table and beginning to move the toilet articles about. \"They didn't say much of anything.\"\n\nLora sat, hugging her knees, staring straight before her, her white face going slowly crimson. \"You\u2014 you mean they snubbed you?\"\n\n\"Mrs. Vines made it pretty clear she wasn't pleased to see me,\" Julia said, laughing a little and picking up her powder puff to lay it down. \"Still, you would think she had known us.\"\n\"But that's a little too much to expect, I guess. Yes, headlines were impressive. Lora whispered, \"I'm sorry, mother.\" \"It's too bad. I'd hoped, there are so few people traveling this time of year. Since they are on board, we'll have to make the best of it. I think, as soon as you feel you can, if you could get up, go out on deck and come down to the dining salon, it would look better, Lora. If you stay down here, it will look as though you were afraid, it's an admission of guilt, my dear. I mean, if you could mingle a little with the other passengers\u2014 there are some nice-looking young people on board\u2014 men and girls, too.\"\"\nShe did not say, \"This is the least you can do for me. And Both Were Young 209. You have already brought such shame and sorrow into my life as I never dreamed of, and it is on your account that I have had to leave my husband, my home, disrupt my life and run away like a criminal.\" But Lora heard all the same, and the burden of her humiliation was almost more than she could bear. She said, \"I was going to get up today. I feel loads better\u2014 I feel fine, really,\" and flung off the bedclothes and stood up as she said it. \"It looks like a lovely day, too\u2014\" She sat now with her eyes on the empty sea. When anyone passed her, she dropped her lids and did not lift them again until the footsteps had passed her chair. She thought she would die if she saw Hannah, she thought she would die if anyone saw her.\nLora spoke to her when suddenly Hay's voice hailed her from halfway down the deck. \"Hi, sis!\", and the somnolent sausages stirred in their rugs at the sound of that raspy, adolescent voice.\n\nLora looked and waved, and then her heart began to thump. Hay had a young man in tow - a tall, darkish young man in tweeds. The two of them stopped beside Lora's chair, and Hay said, legs apart, eyes triumphant, \"Meet my friend, Oliver Hard. This is my sister, Lora, Ollie!\" and stood back, pleased and hopeful as a nice dog bringing his best bone to his master's feet.\n\nLora smiled and said, \"How do you do?\" And the young man said, \"How are you this morning? Feeling better?\"\n\n\"Yes, thank you. I'm fine.\", he replied, \"Good for you! Hay here has been bringing me hourly bulletins of your condition. I've been worried about you.\"\nHay said, \"Anyone's likely to be seasick.\"\n\n\"That's true - if they don't happen to know about my cure,\" Hay's friend replied. \"Maybe you won't believe it, but I've got a cure for mal de mer that is absolutely infallible.\"\n\nHe said it gravely, but his dark eyes twinkled at her from under the visor of his cap. \"Have you? What is it?\"\n\n\"Something I invented myself in a very acute emergency. I'm going to have one made up for you.\"\n\n\"No, please-\"\n\n\"Don't move - where's that steward? Don't you budge. In ten minutes, if you don't feel like swimming to France, I'll drink one myself.\"\n\nHe hurried off in search of the steward.\n\"He leaned over his sister. \"Look, isn't he a swell guy? And Both Were Young. We've been playing deck tennis and he said he was dying to meet you. I told him you were seasick and he told me about this drink he made up and said he wished you'd try it. Listen, don't you think he's a swell-looking guy? Almost as swell-looking as \u2014 I mean, I think he's a prince, don't you?\"\n\n\"I\u2014 I think he must be, darling.\"\n\n\"He's been crazy to meet you. He asked me about you yesterday. He said he heard I had a swell sister on board and I thought maybe if you could\u2014 I thought maybe he'd kind of cheer you up\u2014\"\"\n\nHe broke off for Mr. Hard was back with the steward in tow and the steward was carrying a long-stemmed glass on a little tray. Hay thumped his leg and announced loudly, \"Well, I'll have to be stepping. I got a date to play shuffleboard with a...\"\n\"guy\" and swaggered off.\n\n\"Now, the way we do this,\" said Ollie Hard,\n\"is drink her straight down. No toying with the thing, you understand. When I say three, down she goes. One, two\u2014\"\n\nAt three, Lora swallowed the infallible cure for mal de mer. It was rather sweetish and smooth but it tore through her throat like a red-hot poker. She coughed and blinked and Mr. Hard said, \"Good girl! How was it?\"\n\n\"Terribly hot\u2014 but it does feel good now it's down\u2014\", Lora replied.\n\n\"You wait. You don't know the half of it yet.\" He sat down on the footrest of her mother's empty chair and pushed a well-worn little button in his mind marked Harmless Babble for Doubtful Prospects, for he had no intention of committing himself for the duration of the voyage to this unique acquaintance. He was a young man of rich social status.\nHe had been warned and consequently wary, but curious to see this girl. Rumor had it that she was a dangerous young person, a lovely menace to his sex, a woeful trial to her respectable parents. In short, a little devil! All this had sounded very promising indeed, but he was disappointed. She didn't look at all like her reputation. She was no beauty and appallingly young, in addition to which she looked half dead with those woebegone gray-green eyes, her unrouged mouth drooping. Still, she had been ill, and now that his cure was bringing some color into her cheeks, he could see that she was pretty in a childish, unsophisticated way.\n\n\"So they're shipping me over to take this other fellow's place with the company,\" he said. \"And there I'll be, marooned down there in this God-forsaken French village three thousand miles from a good Martini.\"\nLora said, \"You can always fall back on your cure.\" Doing her best to live up to Hay's swell guy, she and JV were both 21.\n\n\"It's terribly potent. I can feel it all the way down to my toes,\" he replied, giving her a sharp glance. \"Maybe you'd better get up and move around a bit,\" he suggested, flipping off her steamer rug. \"Come along.\"\n\nShe stood up, feeling queer but pleasantly so, and was grateful to this strange young man. She smiled up at him to show her gratitude, and he drew her hand under his arm and gave it a little squeeze. They swung down the deck.\n\n\"It was horrid of Hay to dump me on you this way,\" Lora remarked.\n\n\"Dump nothing. I've been all of a dither to meet you,\" JV replied.\n\nLora smiled at him again. She felt a little as though she were on roller skates, with the steamer chairs and the sea flowing smoothly past her on either side.\nI begin to think you were right about that cure of yours,\" she said as they rounded the ship's bow. \"Sure I was right\u2014hold tight, darling, traffic's getting congested.\"\n\nShe had lowered her head against the wind, but now she glanced up and saw two girls coming, Hannah Vines and a pretty, dark girl she did not know, swinging along arm in arm. The thing she had dreaded was about to happen, and, thanks no doubt to Ollie's cure and his friendly presence, she didn't mind at all. She was glad to see Hannah. After all, Hannah was her old friend. She told her new friend excitedly, \"I know that girl\u2014the blonde one. She's an old friend of mine.\"\n\n\"Is she!\" he said and planted himself in the midst of the deck and stretched out his arm. \"Red light, ladies!\"\n\n\"Hannah! Hello, darling!\" Lora called out.\nHannah stopped. A charming picture of a lady on shipboard in her smart brown tailleur, pale blonde hair coiled smooth under her close little hat. \"Oh, hello!\" she said, and her blue eyes brushed Lora's and lifted to Ollie Hard's. \"Hello. Aren't you energetic this morning?\"\n\nLora dropped the hand she had held out to Hannah and managed to keep her smile in order. \"So you two know each other?\"\n\n\"Our friendship dates from way back,\" Ollie said. \"Was it the Statue of Liberty or the pilot ship?\"\n\n\"I never can remember dates,\" Hannah said.\n\n\"Mother told me you were on board,\" Lora said. \"Isn't it funny we should be crossing on the same ship?\"\n\nNow those blue eyes swung to her, cold under their raised brows. \"Isn't it? You must have decided to sail rather suddenly, didn't you?\"\n\n\"Yes, we\u2014 I\u2014 it was pretty sudden.\"\n\nAnd both were young.\nIt must have been a couple of nights before we sailed when I ran into Judd Harcott. She gave a little laugh. \"He was absolutely tight\u2014said he was out celebrating his freedom.\" She laughed as she said it and wagged her head as though deploring Judd's gaucherie. Lora stood, one hand linked in the arm of her new friend, the other thrust deep in the pocket of her coat. Her face turned from chalky white to crimson and back to chalky white again. But she tried to laugh to show that she enjoyed Hannah's little joke too, and Hannah said, \"Well, boys will be boys\u2014come on, Mimi. Mother's making signs.\" She had not planned to insult Lora, for she was not, ordinarily, a malicious girl and she had always liked Lora well enough. But she had liked Judd.\nbetter, secretly resented his affair with Lora, rejoiced at its failure, and felt very sorry for Judd. The cause of all his misfortune was walking the deck, gay as you please, with the most attractive man on shipboard; the man she had selected as her own special diversion as far back as the Statue of Liberty. Well, she had shown Lora that Judd wasn't precisely pining for his lost love either. And she hadn't really lied\u2014everything she had said was true enough. Judd had said he was celebrating his freedom.\n\nOliver Hard looked after the departing girls, then he glanced curiously down at Lora. Her slender arm was taut as steel under his, her face so pinched and sick that he was alarmed. \"Look,\" he said, \"there's a porpoise!\" and drew her over to the rail. \"No, I guess it wasn't a porpoise, after all.\" He leaned over to get a better look.\non the rail and staring lazily at the sea, he said, \"Funny how few of those very fair blondes have loving dispositions. I was afraid it was a mistake for us to stop her. I rather suspected little Hannah was no friend of yours.\"\n\nShe held tight to the rail. \"Did you?\"\n\n\"Definitely,\" he replied. He turned those merry, worldly eyes of his upon her, and the color rushed, hot and painful, into her cheeks. \"But I wouldn't let it bother me, if I were you. Why should you care?\"\n\n\"I don't,\" she said, and realized the truth of that as she said it. Why should she care about Hannah, about anyone? Especially now that she didn't have to worry about Judd any more. Now that she knew he was taking it sensibly, not just eating his heart out for her. It was absurd to eat your heart out for anyone. She made herself look at Ollie Hard, chin in hand.\n\"I really don't care,\" she replied with a smile.\n\"That's better!\" The wind had whipped her hair loose, bright curls feathered her hot cheeks, and her eyes were luminous with defiance and pain.\n\nHard looked at her, puzzled. She didn't look like a menace to him. She looked like a terribly sweet kid who had been badly hurt. He said, \"Now, look here, this sort of thing happens to us all sometime or other. But we don't want to give people the satisfaction of letting them see it hurts, do we? Thing to do when you\u2014 er\u2014 meet a friend who isn't a friend, is keep your head up\u2014 put up a front. Let on you don't give a damn, see?\"\n\nShe saw and for a moment wished she could.\nBut healthy girls of nineteen didn't drop dead\u2014not of shame or love, even when there was no reason for them to keep living. And, since you couldn't die or hide under bedclothes the rest of your life, the only thing left for you to do was put up a front. That was what her mother had been trying to tell her this morning. She nodded and said, \"Yes, I see.\"\n\nHe slid his hand under her arm. \"How about finishing our walk?\"\n\nSo Lora put up a front by walking three times round the deck on Mr. Hard's arm; walking three times past the chairs where Mrs. Vines and Hannah sat, and being much too animated and interested in her new friend to notice her old ones.\n\n218 And Both Were Young\n\nWhen she went down to the stateroom, she found Julia there freshening up for lunch. Julia said,\nI. Lora tossed her hat on the bed and shook out her curls. \"Yes, Hay knows how to pick them, doesn't he?\" Her mother looked at her. \"He seems very jolly and pleasant\u2014 you look better, dear. Much better.\" \"I feel grand. Ollie gave me a drink.\" \"Ollie! He gave you a drink?\" \"Oh, this wasn't just an ordinary thirst quencher. This was medicinal. Just what I needed.\" Julia had the sense that someone else had spoken. That smooth, toneless voice was so unlike Lora's. The face reflected above her own in the dressing table mirror as Lora reached for her brush was not the stricken, lost-eyed, little girl face of that morning. The soft childish curves of cheek and chin and throat had hardened. The gray-green eyes looked out from between their long lashes a woman's eyes, veiled and inscrutable.\nJulia didn't comment on the change in her child, though each day confirmed it more surely. Somehow Lora had found the courage, or that pride her parents had deplored, to bear the burden of her loss and disgrace. She was assured and cheerful. If she noticed that the \"nice girls\" aboard avoided her, she gave no sign, and Ollie saw to it that she didn't lack for men, for partners at deck games and dancing.\n\nThere was relief in this for Julia. Her troubles were no longer complicated by worry for her daughter's health nor pity for her helpless despair. If she recognized that the rift between them was widening, she was too wretched, too occupied in putting up a front herself, to bother much about it. Mrs. Vines acknowledged the presence of her friend and neighbor of twenty summers only when they chanced to meet.\nMrs. Paris met on deck or in the lounge: \"Good morning, Mrs. Paris! Lovely day!\" Julia knew that her story hadn't ended with the Vines. Every woman on board looked at her with the memory of those headlines in their eyes, seeing in her the mother of the expelled college girl; seeing in her the wife of the \"tailor.\" She longed for George, for home, and all the familiar, comfortable activities that filled her life. But most of all, she longed for a sight of that strange land where she hoped no telltale winds could follow her.\n\nHannah Vines also looked restlessly toward her journey's end. She had never enjoyed a voyage less. She admitted as much in her letters home, an unnecessary confession since the fact that she wrote at all proved her ennui.\nShe wrote her friends that the trip had been a ghastly bore. There was practically no one on board, not one attractive man. She added an impulsive note to Judd Harcott, \"Lora Paris seems to be enjoying herself, though. She's generally completely surrounded by men.\"\n\nJudd received that letter in a small, furnished room on the top floor of a shabby house in one of New York's less select quarters. When he had left the Plaza, he had complied with the clerk's request for a forwarding address. He regretted this ever since, as Cliff Sidney had conscientiously readdressed the letters that had come to the university for his friend. These had followed Judd, a steady stream. Letters his publicized affair with Earle had brought forth from an idle public\u2014from ladies who thought he had been unfaithful.\nHe was grossly ill-used by men who believed he had not been sufficiently ill-treated; by religious persons who wanted to reform him; by lonely girls who wanted to console him; by beggars, cranks, admirers\u2014 and friends.\n\nLetters from the men and women who had been his comrades and intimates were the hardest to bear. In every protestation of their loyalty to him, he read a condemnation of Lora, and his heart shook with remorse and shame. He made no attempt to answer them. That was part of his plan\u2014to shake off the past, build a new future.\n\nThis was what he had decided to do after Cliff left him that day. He had seen himself bereft of every thing that made life worth the effort of living but going on alone and unfriended, \u201cmaking good,\u201d \u201cshowing them.\u201d\nIn the early days in New York, though he was lonely and bitter, he was also young and healthy. The belief that time would justify him and restore Lora grew in his heart like a pearl in its shell. But he was not long in learning what other men had before him, that there is no past nor future, that the one is an integral part of the other. Judd's past trailed him in those letters, hindering him in his search for work. In office after office, when he was fortunate enough to force his way past the functionaries who guarded the portals of the great, it bobbed up to block his way.\n\nPencil poised over paper, they dragged out: Was he a college man? Yes\u2014and no. What did he mean by that? Had he flunked out of college? Well, no. If he navigated those reefs successfully, there was the question of references. To whom could he refer himself?\nHim, who wasn't part of that past, names came to mind. Kindliness and indulgence promised by these names, but pride kept him from appealing to them. With each day, his self-confidence waned. He never left his room without being ridden by a very frenzy of fear that he would meet someone he knew. He found himself haunting the shabbier streets, stammering over his applications for work\u2014 any kind of work, now, in the shabbier employment agencies. He refused a clerkship in a man's haberdashery\u2014 what if someone he knew came in to buy a cravat and the chance to drive the car of a man whose name was too familiar? But he accepted the job of shipping clerk in a large department store and kept it for two days. On the third morning, he saw his former acquaintance.\nHe knew it was absurd and cowardly, but introspection and loneliness-and poverty had eaten away his courage. When he had used up what cash he possessed, he had pawned his two suitcases. But a man couldn't live on two suitcases for long. He woke one morning to find that he was penniless, shabby, and hungry. He had never sent for his trunks, he could not send for them now. If he sent for his trunks, that would put Cliff on his trail. He couldn't have that happen. He knew he was not being very clever. There were ways for men to get money or to live without it. He had a couple of ways in his pocket. One was a small, square diamond ring, and the other was a narrow gold band. He had been looking at those two rings.\nHe received Hannah's note in the morning. His room was cold, and someone in the house was frying pancakes. He could plainly smell them but it didn't bother him greatly. He was too hungry and had just spent his last fifteen cents on a package of cigarettes. That was pretty foolish, but even a poor bum had to have his smoke\u2014 he had read of such things. In fact, it seemed to him that he had read his own story dozens of times\u2014 Disintegration of a Gentleman or Gentleman into a Bum, perhaps. He might have been more original, but tragedy never was. After buying his cigarettes, he found Hannah's letter on the cluttered hall table. The words S.S. Franconia and the picture of the elegant ship made him smile. But he was not smiling when\nHe finished the letter Hannah had written out of pique and boredom. He read it three times, and with each reading, some tension in him eased. For Lora was truly all right, and that was what had been worrying him for weeks - the fear that he had injured her beyond recovery and the fervent hope that one day he would be able to make amends. But now she was all right, her old joyous, light-hearted self, \"completely surrounded by men\" - as why shouldn't she be? He was the last person she would ever need again, and now there was no reason why he should bother about the past or the future.\n\nHe tore the letter to shreds and tossed it in the battered tin scrap basket. He reached for a second cigarette but drew those two rings out of his pocket instead. He held them in the palm of his hand and examined them closely.\nHe looked at the little square diamond, his unworn wedding ring. He should be able to hock it for a fair sum. \"I wouldn't put too much money in it, darling,\" his mother had said. \"It would be bad taste for a girl still in school and we really can't afford\u2014.\" He had put as much in it as he could scrape together and when he had mailed it, he had insured it for a good deal more than it was worth. Come to think of it, he'd never even seen that ring on Lora's hand. There had been plenty of time before college opened for him to take it to New York, but his mother had persuaded him that they needed him at home and so he'd never seen Lora wearing her engagement ring. He had seen her wearing the wedding ring that day they had bought it. They had bribed the old jeweler to engrave it then and there and hung it on her finger.\nHe was over her as she tried on the ring in the pine grove. For a moment, Lora had been a bride. She looked at the ring on her hand and blushed, and he kissed first the ring and then her lips. The air was spicy with the scent of pines and filled with drowsy summer afternoon sounds. Then Lora took the ring off and pretended to be alarmed because, she said, it was bad luck to try on the ring before the ceremony. He laughed at that. Bad luck indeed!\n\nHe dropped the rings in an inside pocket and got up. He had been sitting in his overcoat, now he picked up his hat and opened the door. The chambermaid was counting soiled linens.\ntowels in the hall and Judd said, \"Hello, there! How's the girl?\" She looked up at him sharply. A thin, overworked, sharp-eyed girl, she had long experience in second-rate rooming houses and had been warned to keep an eye on Judd. He had arrived with two suitcases and now had none, but he had paid his rent in advance only the day before yesterday. \"Morning,\" she said. He shook his finger at her, \"Someone is breaking the rules. Someone is cooking pancakes \u2014 an odor very offensive to my olfactory sense.\" She sat back on her heels and stared at him. He had never spoken to her before, she had never seen him.\nHe smiled before. He was smiling now, a broad grin that made deep creases in his thin, unshaven cheeks, and his eyes were full of a wild and reckless light.\n\n\"You're kidding me?\" she said.\n\n\"I wouldn't dream of taking such a liberty, my dear. I'm merely announcing my imminent departure. I really dislike the smell of pancakes intensely\u2014other people's pancakes, you understand.\"\n\n\"You mean you're leaving?\"\n\n\"That is the simplest way to put it.\"\n\n\"Well, we don't make refunds here, you know. Too bad you didn't make up your mind before you paid your rent.\"\n\n\"Isn't it?\" Judd said, his grin widening. \"Well, I guess I'm too used to having other folks make up my mind for me. Maybe that's what ails me. Now what do you think of that\u2014a great big boy like me?\"\n\nWhat she thought was that he was certainly a nut.\nBut she refrained from saying so, and Judd went down the musty stairs and out into the gray November day. Or was it December? He was not sure about that, not sure about much of anything except that he was going away, which was what he had been longing to do from the first. He didn't know where. That wasn't important. Anywhere would do so long as it was far enough. If he went far enough and fast enough, he might even get away from himself.\n\nThe soiled old man in the dingy, cluttered pawnshop under the Elevated looked with practiced indifference at the diamond. He was not, he said, interested in diamonds. Diamonds were a drug on the market. There were too many good imitations these days. Still, since Judd was his first customer and he was superstitious, he would advance him something on the ring as a very particular favor.\nJudd lolled against the counter and said, \"Thanks a lot, Shylock!\"\n\n\"Shylock is not my name,\" the old man said mildly, reaching for his pencil and thinking that he was doing a very fair business these days on Park Avenue, \"it is John. What is yours, please?\"\n\nJudd opened his mouth to speak, closed it on a thin smile. Then he said, \"That's funny, mine's John, too\u2014John\u2014Harris.\"\n\nLet the dead past bury its dead\u2014and bury it deep.\n\nUlia wrote to her husband from the pension Berri in Paris\u2014\n\n\"The place hasn't changed much since we were here eleven years ago. Since I wrote you last, we've moved up to the three small rooms on the top floor so that it's almost like having our own little apartment. My windows overlook the old Monastery gardens and I can see the monks walking about reading their prayer books. It's very romantic. The weather here has been lovely.\"\nThe weather is frightfully cold and foggy, yet we have open fires in every room and manage to stay warm. Hay started school last Monday. He doesn't like it yet, finding it strange and foreign, and they had to set him back two classes. But he's being tutored in French and will soon catch up, I think. For his sake, it might have been better to go to England. The climate couldn't be much worse than it is here.\n\nYou needn't have worried about Lora. She has shown no signs of fainting again. In fact, she seems perfectly well and happy. She takes a French lesson every day and is studying art at a school on the Left Bank, doing very good work, especially with her sketching. To see her, you would think nothing unusual had happened, that we'd come abroad for pleasure.\n\nHay and Lora, both young.\nThe man she met on shipboard - Oliver Hard, as I mentioned in my previous letter to you - stayed in Paris for a few days before heading south. He's the son of Franklin Hard from the Hard Manufacturing place upstate. He's a nice enough boy, with good manners, well-bred, but a bit flippant - the typical playboy. He's in charge of the firm's plant here in a place called Coureville. I believe he and Lora are corresponding, but I'm not certain. I know she has no young friends and I don't know how to arrange for her to meet any. Most of the people here at the Pension are English - a good many middle-aged and old ladies - not very friendly.\n\nBe sure to eat your green salads and drink your [unknown word]\nFruit juice every day, dear. Tell the girls not to forget to water my flowers. When you come over in May, I think it would be nice to go south for a while. It's so cold here.\n\nCold and sunless and bleak was Paris in January. Cold and lonely for a middle-class, middle-aged woman in exile, longing for her home and her man and the life she had lived for more than forty years. Trying to be contented, trying not to worry, trying not to think. In a Paris pension, with no house to run, no social obligations to fulfill, no holiday parties to plan for the children, no kindred souls to gossip with over a cup of tea\u2014 you had so much time to think. You couldn't knit all the time, you couldn't just sit from morning to night in your room even though it overlooked a romantic monastery.\nthe chimney pots of the most beautiful city in the world. And if you ventured into the Louis-something salon, you were confronted with alien faces, raised alien eyebrows that seemed to ask what in the world you were doing over here in a strange land when you ought to be home tending to your flowers and seeing to it that your poor husband got his green salad and fruit juice.\n\nOr so it seemed to Julia. It had not seemed like this eleven years ago when she and George had run away for a second honeymoon. Then the days had not been long enough, every face had been a friendly face, and adventure waited around every corner.\n\nBut the consciousness of why she was there was so strong in her that she fancied it visible to every eye. \"She's the woman who-\" \"That's the girl who-\" You could say that you considered a year had passed.\nAboard it was a better finishing school for a girl than any college. But what could you say that would explain why a half-grown American boy should not be preparing for his future in his own country? Julia sealed and addressed her letter with a sigh and the fervent hope that George would not read between the lines. It was cold in the room and she put another briquette on the fire and thought, as she did so, what ridiculous things they were, these little blocks of powdered coal. But the fireplace was ridiculous, too, with its prim little grate and meager blaze. She thought of her own fireplace at home, of the crackling logs and hearty flames. She was forever thinking things like this, comparing, resenting, hating. Hating foreign ways and food, the foreign signs.\nShe met his gaze as she went out, confronted by the foreign sounds that assaulted her ears. Longing for home, she was. Hay entered at five, books in hand, his cheeks and eyes bright with cold, his mouth sulky.\n\n\"Hello, darling! Cold?\" Julia greeted gaily.\n\n\"Naw,\" he threw his books on one chair, his hat on another, his coat on a third. \"I'm hungry. Anything to eat?\"\n\n\"I bought some fruit this morning and there are some of those little pastry things left. Only don't spoil your appetite for dinner.\"\n\nHay inspected the fruit on the table, picked up one of the little pastry things. \"Heck, I'm sick of pastry. Don't they ever make cake over here? I mean, real cake like we have at home?\"\n\n\"If foreign countries were like home, there wouldn't be any point in traveling, dear. How was school today?\"\n\n\"It was all right.\" He dug his hands into his pockets.\nets and glared into the fire. The director said he thought I'd be better off in a lower class. He was afraid I didn't understand some of the subjects well enough. \"How can I understand them when I don't know what they're saying half the time!\" he exclaimed.\n\n\"Well, you will soon, dear. You're getting along so well with your French,\" she replied.\n\n\"I am not! Whenever I say anything, the kids all snicker. They look at me like I'm a freak or something. And when we go out for recess, they stand around and make fun of me. I can't even tell them to get off because I don't know how to say it in French. Listen, it's a heck of a school anyway\u2014 you oughta see them trying to play what they call football! You'd laugh your head off, and they don't have hardly any athletics at all.\"\nYou oughta see the gym\u2014his voice choked off on the memory of another gym, another school. The memory of a football field at \"old Pepper\u2019s,\" of the flying ball and shouting boys and trees gold and red in the frosty sun; of the smell of burning leaves and roasting apples under a yellow harvest moon and jumbled dreams of touchdowns and boxes from home. \"And there's nothing to do after school. I mean, I don't know any fellas\u2014\"\n\nJulia got up quickly, her hand pressed hard against her throat. She went to Hay and gave his head a brisk little pat. \"Someday you'll be terribly glad you've had this experience, darling. I know it's hard right now, but that's only because it's so strange and new\u2014\"\n\n\"Why don't you take him home, mother?\" Lora said from the doorway.\n\nHer mother turned sharply. \"I didn't hear you come in.\"\nI came in half an hour ago. I've been in my room studying. I couldn't help hearing Hay. Why don't you take him home and leave me here? I'd be perfectly all right.\n\nPerfectly all right! A girl of your age alone in a strange city\u2014 a strange country?\n\nBut I really like it and I'd be perfectly safe. And it is rough on Hay. He really should be home \u2014and in his own school.\n\nIsn't it a little late for you to think of that now!\n\nJulia said, her hand at her throat again pressing back the accusations that filled it like a bitter rent, not knowing that they were all there in her tortured eyes for Lora to read. \"Don't talk nonsense!\"\n\nLora looked away, said in a low voice, \"I didn't think it was nonsense. You wouldn't have to stay if it weren't for me. That's why\u2014\"\n\n\"You know I wouldn't dream of leaving you here.\"\nI wouldn't dare do such a thing! Lora turned and went back to her own room. Her heart didn't beat much faster for that scene.\n\nAnd Both Were Young\n\nShe had hoped, just for a moment, that Hay's passionate outburst might triumph over her mother's sense of duty, that she would take him home. It would have made it so much easier for them all\u2014for Julia especially. Lora had long thought it must be hard for a mother to be cooped up like this with the child who had made a lonely exile of her. With this thought always in mind, she kept out of her mother's sight as much as she could manage; spent hours studying in her room, lingered long over her art lessons, sat by the hour in the parks watching the children at play, took Hay sightseeing whenever he was free to go.\n\nShe had done all this without thinking or feeling.\nShe saw herself as serving a sentence for her crime and was resolved to serve it as patiently as possible. But the widening rift between her and her mother was complicating things badly. She was helpless to make things better. She did not mind greatly for herself. The indifference she had assumed under Oliver Hard's tutelage came more naturally to her now. It extended even to Judd. At first, when she had thought of him \u2014 back at college, flying around in his old roadster, dancing, laughing, free once more \u2014 she had known a warm thrill of satisfaction. Judd, at least, was all right. A man could live down his youthful indiscretions, forget his youthful passions. He would take his degree in June and life would lie before him, new and exciting and full of promise.\nas the days passed, she thought of him less and less. She thought of him today, coming from that scene with her mother, and for the first time, the thought was tainted with resentment. Judd was all right\u2014 and she was glad, of course\u2014 but he had lost nothing by that experience save an illusion or two, perhaps. She had lost everything, even her mother's love. It wasn't fair\u2014ah, it wasn't fair.\n\nA few days after Hay's outburst, Lora left the little studio on the Rue St. Jacques early. It was a half-holiday for Hay, and she thought she would take him somewhere, to that quaint museum, perhaps, with the realistic wax figures and trick mirrors\u2014more like Mrs. Jarley's waxworks than a museum, really. Hay loathed museums but he was sure to like this one. She walked briskly across the cobbled courtyard. She was wearing the blue suit with the near-sables.\nLora had caught up with her mother's fears that she was too grown up when they bought the dress last Spring. Because she was thinner, she appeared taller. Her thick curls had been thinned out and set. She wore her small, brimmed hat in the French manner\u2014straight on her head and drawn a little over her eyes.\n\nAs she opened the heavy grilled gate, she saw a tall young man leaning against the stone pilaster, smiling at her. It was a moment before she recognized Ollie Hard. She stopped short, staring.\n\n\"Ollie! I thought you were in Coureville!\"\n\n\"Until ten last night, you were justified in thinking so,\" he said and took her hand, grinning down at her. \"That was the hour I boarded the Rapide at Marseilles. Arriving in Paris at dawn, I appeased my hunger at a convenient tavern, performed my military duties, and made my way here as soon as possible.\"\nAblutions and led me to Pension Berri, only to be informed by a buxom wench that you had succumbed to the lure of the brush and palette. She laughed. \"All proper young ladies must learn to draw and speak foreign languages,\" she said. \"And play the pianoforte.\" He said, \"Ghastly thought. Darling, you're almost as beautiful as I remembered you. How about a cup of chocolate at Cafe Deux Magots?\" It had been like this with them ever since that meeting on the ship. This merry worldling had dispensed with all the preliminaries. Now they might have known each other from their bread and milk days. \"Chocolate at Cafe Deux Magots sounds lovely,\" she said. He tucked her hand under his arm, and they started down the noisy, crowded Rue St. Jacques. \"You're not, by any chance, glad to see me, I suppose?\" \"I suppose I am.\"\nHe said, \"I thought you would be here. Your last letter lacked its usual cheerful tone. Mats were spread on the pavements outside the famous old cafe. Braziers were glowing. Students from nearby ateliers, men in berets and hatless girls, nibbled brioche and sipped hot chocolate at the little tables. Men and women in search of more spiritual refreshment filed in and out of the open doors of the ancient Church of St. Germain de Pres across the way. A dirty, cheerful old chestnut vendor called out the excellence of her wares \u2013 \"Marrons, chaud tres chaud!\" to the passersby. A waiter recognizing these two as Americans and sensing a generous tip led them to a table beside a brazier. Ollie said, \"Two hot chocolates and a couple of brioche, garcon.\" Then he said to Lora,\n\"You look utterly lovely but different - what have you been doing to yourself, ma clierie? I adore your French, and I adore your eyes. But you didn't answer my question. It's probably my hair - I had pounds thinned out. Now, tell me all about it? How's business and how's Coureville? He wagged his head and rolled his eyes, \"Trying to sell electric iceboxes to people who have worried along nicely with window boxes for a thousand years isn't a business. It's a major operation. And Coureville - oo-la-la and lackaday! Coureville, little one, is not a town, it's a tradition. Would you believe that in Coureville the peasantry still goes shod in sabots and believes the radio is black magic? In Coureville, oxen draw the primitive plough and\"\nThe names of Irving Berlin and Mae West were unknown in the land. The belle of the village had no ankles and a mustache, and the nearest nightclub was in Marseilles, twenty kilometers distant.\n\n\"I thought you looked more rested,\" Lora said.\n\n\"Rested, my child, is not the word. Atrophied, if you like\u2014 fossilized\u2014 mummified\u2014 \"\n\n\"Poor Ollie!\"\n\nHe reached for her hand and squeezed it hard.\n\n\"That's better. Just what I needed. Now, tell me about you\u2014 and the kid and your mother. How are they? Enjoying gay Paree?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm afraid they get a little homesick sometimes. My father and mother have never been separated before. Mother gets pretty lonely.\"\n\n\"I know what that is! And how about you? Found any nice playmates?\"\n\nShe looked away. \"No, I haven't met\u2014 I didn't come to Paris to play.\"\n\n\"If anybody hears you say that, the franc'll go off.\"\nAnd they were both young, age 239. He said, \"ten points, what do you do when you're not pursuing the arts and generally improving your mind?\" She replied restlessly, \"Oh, I\u2014 I don't know. I manage to keep busy.\" \"So do I,\" he said, \"but it takes a lot of doing some times. You and I ought to get together, darling. Now, there's an idea. Why not come to Coureville and study the morals and manners of the native, and incidentally, cheer my lonely exile?\" She tried to say it lightly, but she detected a new note in his voice, read new excitement in his eyes. \"That is an idea!\" She said, \"I'll have to think about that.\" He had been thinking about it the last couple of days. \"I had a hunch you were kind of rattling around up here in the big city and I honestly think you'd like Coureville. It's a romantic spot, you know\u2014historical ruins and ghosts. Roman.\"\nShe caught her upper lip between her teeth, and the color drained slowly from her face. \"You'd better not ask me, Ollie. I might surprise you and take you up.\"\n\n\"It wouldn't surprise me at all. I'd think it was very sensible of you. Here you are mooning around Paris with nobody to play with, and I'm in the same fix. So why not get together? Why not pool our miseries, as it were?\" He lowered his voice, speaking close to her ear. \"The best way to get over one man is to acquire another, darling.\"\n\nShe lifted startled eyes, and the color rushed back into her cheeks. \"So you know about that, do you?\"\n\n\"I hope you won't mind too much, but I do. I know the real story. Hay told me. I think he rather hoped something might come of it and he...\"\nShe faced him squarely. \"You must have been amused! I couldn't believe it when I first heard it. I thought your little brother had been reading a sloppy, old-fashioned love story.\"\n\n\"Yes, I was,\" he replied. \"I couldn't believe that any girl in this enlightened age could be so... idotic.\"\n\n\"Quixotic is a nicer word, darling,\" she said. \"Now, I wouldn't mind a quixotic wife at all.\"\n\nShe said, slowly crumbling a piece of brioche between her fingers, \"Your offer tempts me, Ollie. But, if I should accept it, I'd only be doing it to escape.\"\n\n\"I realize that and it's okay with me,\" he said cheerfully. \"Plenty of people have married for less commendable reasons. Some people marry for love.\"\n\nHe gave an energetic nod.\n\"But if they have the other things that go with it, I doubt it's as essential as the other things. What other things? Well, if they need each other, if each has something the other requires. That is the foundation of every successful partnership. She moved her head in slow agreement. It was true. She and Judd had not really needed each other. They had wanted each other and they had had love, but they had not had the \"other things\" essential to a successful partnership. \"Now, you and I,\" Ollie Hard said, \"need each other. I need a companion in my exile, you need to escape, as you express it. I'm of age, solvent, of a temperate and sunny disposition. I have a hunch we'd get along fine. What more could any couple ask? If we didn't, there's always the divorce court and no hard feelings.\"\"\nShe said quietly, \"You're being very frank and generous with me, Ollie. I'll be frank with you, too. I like you a lot, but I don't want to marry you \u2014 I don't want to marry anybody. But I would like to make it possible for my mother and brother to go back home. They're only staying over here on my account, and they both hate it. It's terribly hard on my father, too.\" Her hands were quiet in her lap, her eyes fixed, steady and grave, on his.\n\n\"I've thought and thought\u2014 in novels, girls in a position like mine would run away and get a job\u2014\"\n\n\"And marry the rich boss,\" he said.\n\n\"Yes. But there's nothing I can do\u2014 I never finished college and I haven't any talent\u2014 except for drawing pictures! Besides, I couldn't do anything like that\u2014 like running away. That would only make things look worse. But if I married\u2014 \"\n\"Marriage would resolve all your difficulties, dear. It's the perfect solution. She looked at him. His mouth was smiling but its merry skepticism was a little forced and his worldly dark eyes were excited and hopeful. \"Did you come to Paris especially to rescue me, Ollie?\" he asked. \"Yeah, but I had an ulterior motive so don't order up any haloes. You've been on my mind for weeks. I kind of guessed how things would be for you up here because once people get themselves in a mess like this, well, it's kind of like falling into a swamp. The harder you try to get out the more messed up you get\u2014\" \"Yes,\" she said eagerly. \"That's it! I've tried and tried\u2014\"\"And, you see, I happen to want to marry you very much, dear,\" he said. Julia was in her room when Lora brought Ollie to her. She had been waiting for Hay and Lora.\"\nAnd she didn't recognize the tall young man with her, her daughter had an unfinished sweater in her lap and knitting needles in hand, but she had been gazing out of the window at the few thin rays of sunlight on the garden wall and her eyes were a little blinded by that unusual light. So, for a moment, she thought Ollie was Judd Harcott. Then he came toward her and she recognized him. She was not very glad to see him. She didn't dislike him but she had sensed from the first that he disliked her. She tried to make her voice sound cordial.\n\n\"How do you do, Mr. Hard?\"\n\nOllie said, \"How are you?\" and asked if he might sit down and drew a chair closer to hers. Then he said in that pleasant, half-mocking way of his, \"I'm afraid this is going to surprise you a little, Mrs. \"\nParis, I've come to ask if you have any objection to my marrying Lora. I've just asked her to be my wife, and I'm happy to say she has consented. I stopped to pick up the sweater and yarn that had dropped from Julia's lap as she stood up. She stood there rigid, her eyes on Lora sitting in the center of a small brocaded divan. She stood looking at her child as if she had never seen her before, as if she had suddenly discovered something so incredible, so monstrous, that she couldn't believe in it. \"Marry her! Lora has consented to marry you!\"\n\nOllie said imperturbably, \"We hoped you would approve.\"\n\n\"Approve!\" Julia said, whirling on him, her hands fist against her breast. \"You hoped I would approve!\"\n\nOllie, \"Naturally, you will want to know that I'm in love with her.\"\n\"he said, with a trace of irony. \"I can assure you that I am in a position to support a wife. As to my character, family position, antecedents, and all that, I think I can show you\u2014\"\n\n\"Lora! Is this a joke?\"\n\n\"Goodness, no!\" Lora said, springing up and coming across the room to stand beside Ollie Hard. \"It isn't a joke at all! You see, we want to marry this man. I want to marry him. If you're worrying about that other affair, he knows all about it and doesn't mind at all. He knows it was only a boy-girl affair \u2014just as you always said it was\u2014\"\n\nJulia stepped back from her. \"Only a boy-girl affair!\"\n\n\"Yes. And this isn't like that. This is a serious intention to marry.\"\nAnd both were young. Without taking his eyes off Julia, Ollie reached out and drew Lora close to his side. He said, \"We hoped you'd be glad about this, Mrs. Paris. We hoped you'd give us your consent and your blessing\u2014 but you don't insist on it, is that what you mean? You'd marry her without it\u2014 a girl you scarcely know?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry to contradict, but I think I know Lora very well. Better perhaps than some who have known her longer!\"\n\n\"\u2014you would marry her, knowing we're alone over here\u2014 knowing her father is three thousand miles away\u2014?\"\n\n\"Isn't that all the more reason why she should have a husband to look after her?\"\n\n\"I don't think dad will mind, mother,\" Lora said. \"Of course, it would be fine if he could be here but\u2014 \"\nwe want to be married at once. Ollie's all alone in Coureville\u2014 he has a darling old house with a walled garden and fig trees\u2014 think of it in January! But it's lonely for him and he needs me. We're not going to have a real wedding\u2014 I won't need any trousseau\u2014 we're just going to be married by the registrar or whatever you call him.\n\n\"You are!\" Julia said. \"You've decided all that, have you? You've made all your plans?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lora said, \"we've made all our plans.\"\n\nThat night last autumn when she had put on her grown-up suit and near-sables to go and meet Judd, she had had a delicious fear that he might not recognize her in her city clothes. It was a groundless fear for the girl in the city clothes was still the girl he had met on the beach, hugging the beach ball in the curve of her slender waist, a merry, sun-bronzed girl.\ngirl smiling at him from under lashes that curled up and back like a child's. Judd would still have recognized her that night at the Plaza, but it's doubtful he would do so now. Even her mother's eyes searched in vain for some sign of that rosy, buoyant girl, trying to penetrate the protective front Lora had built up\u2014but it was like shooting at a stone wall with one of those rubber-tipped arrows Hay used to play with.\n\nJulia could have screamed with the futility of her own despair. She said, her eyes moving helplessly between them, \"I don't know\u2014what to say! Lora, I don't think you realize\u2014you can't realize what you're doing! I think you should wait\u2014for a little while, anyway\u2014think this over\u2014 \"\n\n\"What is there to wait for?\" Lora said and smiled a little. \"No, I'm going through with it\u2014this time.\"\nLora sat on a bench in the primest of Paris parks, Parc Monceau. For a change, the sun was bright and quite warm, the rolled lawns green as Spring. Bare-legged children disported themselves on the pebbled walks with that grave gaiety characteristic of the well-bred French child. Uniformed nursemaids divided their attention between their charges and their embroidery. A smocked gardener knelt to his work among the shrubs, and now and then someone would stop and watch him with that earnest concentration of the idler.\n\nLora sat with her hands in her lap. Ollie was off somewhere making inquiries necessary to the marriage ceremony, sending telegrams and cables, greasing, as he expressed it, the marital wheels. Lora had gone over to the Rue St. Jacques for her portfolio. There had been no hurry about that but she had finished it.\nShe wanted to leave the pension and avoid being alone with her mother. They had been alone for a few moments after Ollie left and before Hay arrived from school. Julia had tried to express her feelings, but they sounded false and inconsistent to her. She was horrified by Lora's cold-blooded inconstancy, yet she couldn't accuse her of inconstancy after urging her to forget Judd. She couldn't protest based on Ollie's youth or insolvency. He was twenty-seven, financially sound, and had assured Julia that his parents would be thrilled about their relationship and would adore Lora.\nJulia had found herself floundering helplessly while Lora listened, polite and impassive. Julia had stammered, \"What will your father think?\"\n\n\"He'll probably think he's pretty lucky to get me off his hands,\" Lora had replied.\n\nNow Lora sat in the Parc, her hands quiet in her lap, her heart almost as quiet in her breast. A lovely lethargy overlaid her emotions. She could look at the little French children rolling their hoops or sedately skipping rope and think of nothing but little French children rolling hoops and sedately skipping rope.\n\nPresently she must go back to the pension for Ollie was coming to take her to dinner. They were going to Foyot's and he would tell her about things\u2014 what they had to do about the license, when they could be married. She supposed she should be thinking about those matters.\nLora had little money of her own for clothes and hated asking her mother for more. There was no time, and she had plenty of clothes. The smocked gardener worked around the shrubs, now attracting an audience. Children watched him, and a rather plump man in gray leaned back on his cane, staring down at the gardener's deft manipulation of his trowel. Lora looked at him and furrowed her brow, thinking there was something vaguely familiar about him. A child in a nearby pram cried, and she turned to look at it, forgetting him.\n\nHe had passed her once and turned to pass her again when she looked up and recognized Mr. Harcott. He continued a few steps down the walk, turned, and came back, standing directly in front of her with his hat in his hand. \"Why, er\u2014 how do you do! I\u2014 er\u2014 I thought I recognized you.\"\nThe last time she had seen him was that day in the Old Harbor church, and for just a second she felt as she had then, terribly young and frightened and guilty. But that lasted only a second. There was nothing to be afraid of now, nothing to feel guilty about\u2014 she had given him back his boy, hadn't she?\n\n\"How do you do!\" she said coldly.\n\n\"This is a charming spot, isn't it?\" he said. \"May I sit down here?\u2014 a lovely day for a wonder, too. I\u2014 er\u2014 I'd no idea you were in Paris. Have you been here long?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes. We've been here for some weeks.\"\n\n\"Is that so? Well, well\u2014\" His cane was propped between his knees, and he began to poke a little hole in the gravel with its ferrule. Lora saw that his hand was shaking, the cane shaking. She had not remembered him as an old man and was surprised to find him in this condition.\nShe was surprised but not moved by his infirmities or friendly advances. He asked, \"Is your husband here in Paris with you?\"\n\n\"My husband?\" she questioned.\n\n\"Didn't I understand you to say that he was with you?\" he inquired.\n\n\"I have no husband,\" she replied. \"I am here with my mother and brother.\"\n\nShe stood up to leave, surprised to find his shaking hand on her arm. \"And Judd? Where is he?\"\n\nShe was too astonished to answer immediately. Then she repeated, \"Where is Judd?\"\n\nHis fingers tightened on her arm. \"You heard me, didn't you? I asked you a civil question. You might be good enough to answer it civilly.\"\n\nShe sat down on the bench again, partly because a few nursemaids were staring.\n\"But she felt too shaky to stand. But he shouldn't frighten her again, she thought hotly. \"I don't see why I should answer it at all, Mr. Harcott\u2014 I don't see why you should ask me such a question. You must know that I don't know anything\u2014 about Judd\u2014 any more.\"\n\n\"You don't know anything\u2014 you\u2014 you mean you've broken with him?\"\n\n\"You must have known that long ago.\"\n\n\"If I had known, would I have asked you! So that's it! You threw him over! When you found he would have nothing, after all, you threw him over!\"\n\nHis shaking voice stopped. His shaking hand went to his eyes, and Lora stared at him, puzzled and indignant. \"You're not being very civil now, Mr. Harcott. I broke with Judd because there was nothing else to do. I knew you would never forgive him if he married me\u2014 my parents felt the same way. I knew it wasn't any use\u2014.\"\n\"Where is he? He's in college, isn't he? Don't you know that? She whirled around on the bench. Don't you know? Isn't he in college? Cliff told me they were going to let him finish\u2014that everything was going to be all right again for him. Wasn't it? Didn't they take him back? The savage red went slowly out of his face, leaving it flaccid and gray. He looked at her helplessly. We seem to be talking in circles\u2014is it possible you didn't know? Didn't he tell you that they agreed to reinstate him only on condition that he broke off his engagement to you\u2014but he did\u2014I did! I broke it! He never told you? I never saw him again.\"\n\"It didn't matter now that half the proper nursemaids in Parc were gazing with fascinated horror at the scene on the bench; at the fierce old man and burning-eyed girl shouting imprecations at each other. \"If I had known, do you think I'd have let him go so easily? Never! And I'd have made them take him back\u2014that's what you should have done! And all this time I thought everything was all right with him! Why didn't you let me know? I'd have told you he was free.\" She grabbed his sleeve and shook his arm. \"Where is he now? What happened to him?\" \"I thought you were in a better position to answer that question than I. I haven't seen him\u2014heard from him\u2014since that night he left his mother and me to keep his rendezvous with you. The night he was released.\"\"\n\"I never met him at all! I never saw him \u2013 I thought it was no use. He may be dead \u2013 anything may have happened to him! Oh, how dare you do such a thing to him? I never would have done it! I never would have hurt him like that! I loved him \u2013 more than you did! I loved him more than I loved my pride \u2013 more than I loved anything. But you didn't, or you'd never have let him go! You're a terrible old man! You're a beast \u2013 and you've spoiled everything \u2013\n\nThe pretty American girl leapt to her feet and ran blindly across the lawns of the primmest park in Paris. One of the nursemaids saw.\"\nThe gardener heard the sobs of the young lady, tears streaming down her cheeks. They glared balefully at the old gentleman still sitting on the bench, hands grasping his stick, eyes on the ground. An evil old man, they thought, one of those rich, greedy Americans with too much gold in his pocket and too much time on his hands.\n\nThe French are an impulsive and sentimental people. It is not at all unlikely that if the gardener or one of the nursemaids had made a move to avenge the insult to the pretty, weeping young lady, Bailey Harcott would have been mobbed. But no one made that move, and after a little, he got to his feet. He noticed Lora's portfolio on the bench. He stared down at it for a moment, then picked it up and tucked it under his arm, walking slowly out.\nJulia was trying to write her husband about Lora's approaching marriage. She had begun, \"I don't know how to tell you\u2014\" a dozen times, for it was true. She didn't know how to tell George that his daughter, who a few short weeks before had sacrificed herself, her family\u2014 everything for Judd Harcott, was now blithely planning to marry Ollie Hard. She had sent Hay out and he was now gloomily bouncing a ball against the garden wall to the annoyance of several old ladies playing backgammon in the Louis-something salon and making unflattering remarks about the manners of American children in general and Hay in particular.\n\nJulia wrote:\n\n\"There is absolutely nothing I can do to prevent it. You would realize that if you could see Lora\u2014 see how she has changed. You remember how open and frank she always was\u2014\"\n\n(She had been frank enough about Judd that)\nAugust night, \"I love him, Mother. If I thought I could ever love another man the way I love Judd, I'd rather die.\" And now she was marrying Ollie.\n\n\"But for the past months she has been like a stranger. I've never known what she was thinking\u2014\"\n\n(Perhaps I should have tried to find out. Perhaps I've been like a stranger to her.)\n\n\"\u2014and I've been so concerned about Hay and you\u2014 I didn't realize this affair was serious at all. How could I? I never dreamed that a girl who had been brought up to regard marriage as sacred, who'd been reared in the atmosphere of a happy marriage\u2014\n\nWe always have been so happy, haven't we, my dear? Until this happened! Perhaps it would have been better if we'd never had children, and yet you remember how we wanted them! You remember what a precious baby Lora was\u2014even when\"\nShe came for the first time. Those darling curls and her funny little nose? Who would have thought she would make us so wretched! Oh, it isn't fair, it isn't fair! But perhaps this may work out all right. It isn't as though there was anything wrong with Ollie. He's not a man I could ever be really fond of, and I can never forgive his rushing Lora into this\u2014I can't believe she's in love with him\u2014but young people take everything so lightly these days, even love and marriage.\n\nLora took it seriously enough before. How furious and offended she was when I treated it lightly. Perhaps that was a mistake, but what else could I have done? With the Harcotts telling us almost in so many words that she wasn't good enough for Judd! If it hadn't been for that, I never would have...\nI would have been glad if love had come to her so early and surely, before she had messed around with other boys. After all, I was in love with George when I was eighteen and married when I was nineteen. Lora is nineteen now, old enough to be married, but how can she do it like this? How can she marry this man, Judd, with whom she was involved?\n\nJulia laid down her pen, dropped her prematurely white head on the desk. She prayed, \"Oh, God, dear God!\" but He was even farther away than George today, she could not reach Him. She raised her head suddenly, straightened her hair, for someone was coming. She heard feet running, light and swift, up the stairs, heard a door bang, Lora's door. She sat listening, her eyes narrow, mouth grim and bitter. It had been a long time since Lora had come.\nShe bounded up the stairs, a long time since she had done anything so young and buoyant. Well, she was going to be married and no doubt she was happy.\n\nAnd Both Were Young (Chapter XXVII)\n\nShe picked up her pen again and laid it down, went to her own door and opened it. For a moment she stood outside Lora\u2019s door, listening to those dreadful muffled sounds. Then she went in. Lora lay across the bed, her head buried in the pillow, her slender body writhing. Julia touched her shoulder, \u201cLora! What\u2019s the matter?\u201d\n\nLora sat up. Her hair was a snarled tangle, her eyes red and wild. She said, \u201cThey kicked him out! They ruined his life too! He didn\u2019t go back to college at all\u2014 he isn\u2019t going to get his degree\u2014 they kicked him out! And all this time, I\u2019ve been thinking he was all right! That\u2019s all the good it did us\u2014\u201d\nHe gave up everything for me\u2014 and I wasn't there! I was all he had left\u2014 and I wasn't there! \"What are you talking about! Control yourself \u2014 people will hear you\u2014\" \"Let them hear me! They're beasts\u2014 both of them! I told him so\u2014\" \"Who\u2014 who did you tell what?\" \"His father\u2014 Judd's father. And so is his mother \u2014 a beast! They don't even know what happened to him\u2014 they turned him out\u2014 he may be dead for all they know!\" Julia said sharply, \"Be quiet!\" and sat down on the bed. \"Now, tell me quietly what happened\u2014 what you're talking about.\" The story came in incoherent gusts, now savage and shrill, now thick with sobs. Julia listened, nearly as shocked as Lora had been, almost as angry. She said, over and over, \"How could they? Poor boy\u2014 poor Judd! And they never knew\u2014 he never went back.\"\nLora thought they believed she'd married him. \"Yes, that's what they would think - that we'd have no more pride,\" she remarked. \"Oh, pride! Who cares about pride? If I'd known - if I'd only known She broke again, crumpled up on the bed. Julia said mechanically, \"Don't cry any more. You'll make yourself sick.\" She added suddenly, \"It's too bad - terribly unfortunate, the whole thing - but I don't see why you should be so upset about it now. You're going to marry another man in a couple of days. Had you forgotten that?\" Lora went still, sat up slowly, and wiped her eyes and nose with a sodden handkerchief. \"Yes, I - I guess I did forget - just for a minute.\" \"If you care so much about Judd, why are you going to marry Ollie Hard?\" Lora looked down at the sodden handkerchief; she said, low and bitter, \"Why do you care what I'm doing?\"\nAnd both were young. Julia went livid and, for the first time in her life, lifted her hand and struck Lora full in the face. She cried, \"Don't you dare talk to me like that! Don't you ever dare speak to your mother like that!\"\n\nLora's hand flew to her face, and she looked up at her mother with her mouth sagging open and wide-eyed, astounded and hurt. \"I\u2014 Oh, I didn't mean\u2014 Oh, mummy, how could you!\"\n\nHow could she? Julia was trembling but managed to say, \"Because you needed it!\" She sat down on the bed again.\n\"panting a little. \"So that\u2019s why you were marrying him?\" \"I thought you\u2019d be glad\u2014 to be rid of me. I didn\u2019t blame you\u2014\" \"Ah, Lora, Lora! How could you think such a thing, my darling?\" With a convulsive sob, Lora's head went down on her mother's breast, and Julia gathered her child in, holding her fiercely and close, kissing the hot, wet cheek. \"Did you forget that I\u2019m your mother, dear\u2014\" (Had she almost forgotten it?) \"\u2014and that I love you, more than all the world! How could you think it would make me happy to see you unhappy!\" 260 And Both Were Young \"Oh, mummy, mummy!\u201d \"Yes, sweet.\" She rocked the slender body gently back and forth. \"Yes, dear\u2014 it's all right, now. Don\u2019t cry any more. Everything\u2019s going to be all right.\" They were still sitting there like this when Hay came galloping up the stairs and burst into the room. \"Listen, mom\u2014\u201d\n\"Go away, dear. Sis and I are busy. Go out in the garden\u2014, \"Aw,\u2014 there\u2019s nothing to do out there\u2014,\" Go out and play with your ball.\" They don\u2019t want me to. Those old women don\u2019t want me to play ball. They say it disturbs them.\n\nWell, let it! We pay the same board here they do and you\u2019ve as much right to play ball as they have to play backgammon. You go straight down there and play all you like!\n\nWhen he had gone, looking a little scared, she thought, Now what a way to talk! What a common way to talk! First I slap my child\u2019s face and then I talk like that\u2014 maybe we\u2019re just as common as the Harcotts said we were\u2014 but at least we don\u2019t drive our own children out\u2014. Her arms tightened around Lora. No, she hadn\u2019t driven her child out, but she had almost done worse. She had almost driven her child away.\nA child was being pushed into a loveless marriage. She said briskly, \"Come now, brace up, sweet. We've got things to do. First of all, you're going to tell that man you're not going to marry him\u2014 what's that? Sit still. I'll see who it is.\"\n\nBut she needed Lora, after all, for the maid knew no more English than Julia knew French, and Lora had to be called upon to translate. Julia, watching her face, saw it turn so white that the marks of that slap stood out on her cheek in faint red welts.\n\n\"What is it? What does she want?\"\n\n\"She says there's a man downstairs\u2014 asking for you. It's Harcott!\"\n\n\"Harcott!\" Julia said. \"Downstairs\u2014 well, tell her to have him come up to my room. I can't see him downstairs\u2014 with all those women listening. Ask her to...\"\nLora began smoothing her hair at her bureau. \"You don't have to see him at all\u2014 you stay right here,\" she said.\n\nLora closed the door on the chambermaid and went across to her mother. \"What do you suppose he wants, mum? What\u2014are you going to say to him?\"\n\n\"Plenty! And thank goodness I don't have to say it in French,\" Julia replied.\n\nMr. Harcott was a little out of breath when he had climbed the three flights of stairs, but he adhered strictly to the gentlemanly pretext that he was making a social call on a lady with whom he had always been on friendly\u2014if formal\u2014terms. He said, \"How do you do, Mrs. Paris? It's nice to see you again, but you know the old saying\u2014one can always count on meeting one's friends in Paris!\"\n\nJulia shook hands with him briefly and turned on the light.\n\"Your daughter left her portfolio on the bench in the Park where we had been sitting. Fortunately, the address was on it. I'm glad you returned it. Lora told me about meeting you. I was going to hunt you up if you hadn't come. My wife and I are stopping at the Crillon. My wife, I'm sorry to say, has not been in the best of health. In fact, she is confined to her bed. I'm sorry to hear that, but not surprised - after what Lora told me this afternoon. Ah, yes. So she told you.\" His eyes moved about the room and his hands opened and closed on the handle of his stick. With his sagging face, he looked older than his years.\n\"This whole affair has been most unfortunate. I assumed, and both we had every reason to believe, that the young people would marry. When I saw your daughter this afternoon, I thought naturally she would know. I was astonished when I heard that you had done to Judd. No more astonished than we were to learn what you had done to Judd. We could hardly have known that things would work out this way. Even if we had, it would not have altered the fact that Judd defied us at every turn, opposed all our efforts to help him live down his mistakes. He made his choice with his eyes open.\"\n\n\"Choice!\" Julia said. \"It's a bad policy to place young people in a position where they must make choices.\"\n\"In this case, Mr. Harcott, we had no choice but to act as we did. To have him inform us, scarcely an hour after his release from jail, that he was continuing with this affair that had brought him, that had brought us all, nothing but unhappiness\u2014 Julia said, hands tight clasped in her lap, youthful blue eyes wide and bright. It wasn't his fault or Lora's. It was ours. Yours and mine and your wife's. If we hadn't been more concerned with our own petty personal animosities than with them, it needn't have brought us anything but joy. They were so young\u2014 they loved each other\u2014 We couldn't be sure of that. Boys and girls of that age often mistake other emotions for love, Mrs. Paris. The divorce courts are kept busy by misalliances.\"\n\"She admitted that she and he had both been blind and stupid in guiding young people into an unsuitable marriage. The old minister had seen through their deception and knew they wouldn't have gone to him if they hadn't been driven to do so. Everything that had happened since then was more their fault than the children's. 'This may sound hard, but I'm not sparing myself,' Julia asserted. He cleared his throat and his eyes wavered from hers. 'I admit that much of what you say is true. However,' he began.\"\n\"because we never disliked Judd as you did Lora. We thought he was a dear boy and we still do. And, now that you've turned him out, I'm going to make it my business to find him. If he and Lora still love each other, I no longer see any reason why they shouldn't marry.\" She stood up, flung out her hands in a gesture of finality. \"That is what I meant when I said that if you hadn't come here, I should have hunted you up\u2014 to tell you this.\" He got to his feet, too, his face as flushed, his eyes as defiant as her own. \"And why do you think I came here\u2014 to return your daughter's drawings that any messenger could have brought? Do you suppose you're the only one to discover that we've been blind and stupid, as you express it! And you talk of finding Judd! Do you think we haven't tried?\"\nI believed he was married to your daughter, but I have tried to find him. I appealed to your husband, but he refused to see me or read my letters. \"Naturally!\" Julia said crisply. I cannot find my son! That's why I came here - to ask for your help. His chin dropped lower between his sagging shoulders; he seemed to be shrinking into something inconceivably old and fleshless before Julia's very eyes. She laid her hand on his shoulder with quick compassion. \"I'm sorry - sit down again, please. I didn't realize - of course, I'll help. And we're sure to find him.\"\n\nWhen I saw Lora today, I thought my heart would never beat again. I was so sure I had found him - that she would know. He called me a beast.\n\"She was terribly shocked and upset. She wouldn't have done such a thing otherwise. I wouldn't have cared what she called me if only she had told me where to find my son. Don't worry, Mr. Harcott. People can't just drop out of existence\u2014 But that's what he has done. I traced him to the pawnshop where he pawned his suitcases. Beyond that\u2014 nothing. It's killing his mother\u2014 she doesn't know I've been searching for him, she still feels\u2014 or pretends to feel\u2014 that we couldn't have acted differently, but it's killing her all the same. Julia looked at him, slumped there in his chair and her tears brimmed over. We'll find him all right, she said. Lora will find him\u2014 you know the old saying, \u2018Love will find a way.\u2019 He nodded. Yes, I thought of that too.\"\nthose days, it seemed strange and pitiful to remember that not once had she doubted she would find Judd. She had only to release her need of him and he would be sure to come. That was the way she thought of it in the beginning when she was free to think of it. She had not felt quite free to think of it until she had disposed of Ollie Hard. She had felt terribly guilty about poor Ollie.\n\nBut Ollie had taken his conge as lightly and good-humoredly as he had always taken everything, as Julia had predicted he would. It wasn't, as Julia had pointed out, as though he had really loved her. He was alone in a foreign country, in just the mood to marry any nice girl.\n\n\"Be perfectly frank with him, precious. Ollie's a man of the world\u2014 he'll understand.\"\n\nOllie had understood everything, he had even made Lora feel, by some legerdemain of his blithe spirit, that she had done him a favor.\nShe had done him a favor not by jilting him but by letting him in on what he claimed was the renaissance of true romance. And Both Were Young.\n\n\"After all, I fell for you because of your extraordinary constancy to another man. So why should I complain?\" he said that memorable night at Foyot's. \"And of course, it had to end this way\u2014parents reconciled, dying mother restored to health, lovers reunited! Why should I defy a tradition like that?\"\n\n\"We're not reunited yet, Ollie.\"\n\n\"Pooh! That's a mere technicality. Slip out on your balcony one night and cry, \u2018Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, my Romeo!\u2019 and watch him come!\"\n\nShe laughed, but the picture this evoked filled her eyes with light, her cheeks with color.\n\nAnd so it wasn't hard to dispose of Ollie at all. As he said, it had been a purely business arrangement.\nHe had the freedom to withdraw from the situation. He was very gay and looked distinguished in his dinner clothes, with his dark head sleek and his dark cheeks flushed with just a shade too much wine. But his gay insouciance trivialized the affair.\n\nWhen he said goodnight to her in the dark courtyard of the Pension, he had asked her to kiss him goodbye. \"It's the second-best man's privilege to kiss the bride, darling, and since I probably won't be able to attend your nuptials, couldn't you make me a small advance?\"\n\nShe lifted her face readily and he cupped it gently between his hands, as a woman cups a rose, and stooped to kiss her lips. \"Goodbye, little bride\u2014be happy!\"\n\nThe Paris sailed for home the following week, and by some machinations of fate or perhaps of fortune, they parted ways.\nBailey Harcott and the Harcotts sailed on the same ship. Marie recognized the tale of their encounter in the parlor now, and understood that Julia and her husband were plotting to find her son. However, this knowledge did not elicit the response Bailey had anticipated. She acknowledged their presence with the most perfunctory of nods and then retired to her bed. \"I truly believe she hates us even more than ever,\" Julia shared with her husband as she recounted the story. \"She'd almost rather Judd never return at all than marry Lora. And she's wasting away\u2014she looks dreadful. It's tearing her apart.\"\n\n\"It's her pride that's tearing her apart, poor woman,\" George consoled his wife and embraced her warmly. \"But she'll come around\u2014we were almost as bad\u2014but we'll soon resolve this matter now.\"\nFor he had already begun elaborate sleuthing operations, had already picked up Judd\u2019s scent. True, it had carried him no farther than it had carried Mr. Harcott, thus far, but George said, \u201cYou wait, the kid\u2019ll turn up all right.\u201d It was his favorite phrase during the next few weeks, especially in his daughter's presence. He said it more and more loudly and emphatically\u2014 \"Hell turn up, pet! You wait!\u201d\n\nAnd Lora waited, living on hope, comforted by the thought that she and her family were united in a common cause once more. They understood, the past was wiped out. She had the right to love Judd now. Her face grew smaller, her eyes bigger.\n\n\"Judd, Judd, where are you, darling? Don\u2019t you know that everything is all right now? Can\u2019t you feel it?\"\n\n\"You wait! You just wait\u2014\u201d\n\nThat was the summer of nineteen-thirty-four.\nIt was 1935 and 1936. Young people stopped dancing to the Boulevard of Broken Dreams and the orchestras played Speak to Me of Love and, later, Red Sails in the Sunset. Hats grew smaller and funnier, and short-haired girls wore false braids around their heads, as their mothers had done before them. George Paris's business prospered and he bought a house in a fashionable neighborhood which Julia promptly turned into a cozy, unfashionable home. Hay had begun to shave and was looking forward to Yale, and Cliff Sidney was proving a valuable asset to his father's brokerage business. Lois had gone straight from college to the altar with the boy who had faithfully supplied her with chocolates for four years, and Joan had taken to novel writing. Lora had commercialized her flair for drawing.\nLora, whose sketches of ladies' fashions had attracted customers to a smart shop for nearly a year, was now a woman. Her thick curls were disciplined into a glossy cap, and her fair skin, once easily burned and freckled, was smooth and clear like a pearl. However, she had developed a habit of silence and preoccupation that both attracted and repelled friendship. Few young men took her out more than once, as they didn't want to waste their words and charms on a beautiful woman. Despite her beauty, Lora was not popular, and there were times when she was very lonely. But she was busy and no longer consciously mourned for Judd and her lost ecstasies.\nIn the fall, two years after she came home from France, Ollie Hard made a flying visit to America and came to see her. They had been corresponding sporadically for a year. When some of Lora's sketches had appeared in a magazine, he had seen them and written to congratulate her. \"So you've turned into one of these career girls, now,\" he commented gaily. Later he wrote that he was coming home for a visit. \"If you hear of a lunatic trying to leap off the ship into the arms of the Statue of Liberty, don't think too badly of me, darling!\"\n\nHe appeared one evening at the Paris house preceded by a bottle of champagne and a box of orchids. Lora pinned the orchids on the shoulder of her black velvet hostess gown when she went down to greet him. He took both her hands and looked her over.\nFrom the top of her fluted amber head to the toe of the velvet sandal showing beneath her trailing skirt, and he shook his head ruefully. \"I knew it! I knew you'd go and grow up elegant on me!\" She laughed and told him she was glad to see him, which was true. He looked much the same, a little older, of course. The lines around his mouth and eyes had deepened, his grin was a little more quizzical, but his spirit seemed as blithe, his manner as inconsequential as it had been the night they had parted nearly two years before. Neither of them spoke of that. Lora had feared Ollie might, that he might even mention Judd, for of course he knew the story had not \"turned out right\" after all. But he surprised her by being tactful and impersonal. They talked of Lora's job and of Coureville where, he said, they'd had so much rain this summer that the fields were flooded and the harvest would be late.\nThe old Chateau ghost had gone on strike and refused to appear. And both were young.\n\n\"I don't blame it,\" Lora said.\n\"It was pretty hard on the tourist trade,\" he said gravely. \"Tourists dote on ghosts. I offered myself as a substitute attraction \u2013 I wasn't going to dress up in a sheet and moan or anything like that, you understand. But I did think the sight of an American bachelor who had survived nearly two years of Courville was easily worth fifty centimes a head.\"\n\"I should think it was!\" she said.\n\nHe left next day for the Hard plant upstate and a visit with his parents. But he would be in town again for three or four days before he sailed, he said, and he made Lora promise that she would reserve those days for him. \"We'll go places and do things \u2013 I've got to make up for my two years\u2019 exile and fortify myself against another two.\"\nAnd when he came back, they went places and did things, expensive gay places and things, every hour Lora could spare from her job. He kept the house filled with flowers, thereby winning Julia's heart, and George liked him too. Sometimes Lora would come home from her office and find him sitting smoking and discussing iceboxes and politics with her father. George said, \"He's a nut, but you can't help liking him.\"\n\nOn the night before he sailed, Lora said she was too tired to go dancing and they came straight home after the theatre. They went down to the deserted kitchen and found some beer on the ice and sat at the kitchen table and ate bread and cheese and drank beer. Ollie said, \"This is grand. Nothing like cozy domestic pleasures, after all, is there?\"\n\n\"If you'll stay over another day, we'll have a taffy pull.\"\nLora said, \"There's a pulling party tomorrow night.\" But he shook his head. \"It will be hard enough for me to return to my lonely exile. You're lonely, it's your own fault.\" \"I know,\" he replied. \"I could have had a dozen girls in Coureville, but the prospect of quarreling in French kind of scared me off. I'd planned to look over some prospects here when I came home, but I've been so busy. Do you know anyone who might answer my purpose?\" She had been sitting with her elbows propped on the table, her chin on her hands, looking at him with her wide, preoccupied gaze. But now her gaze focused, and she saw the terrible urgency in his dark eyes. She shook her head, said lightly, \"Not at the moment. I'll keep it in mind, though.\"\n\"I don't want to be too optimistic. But I think I could even guarantee the ghost - he ought to be dried out soon.\" He leaned across the table and touched her hand. \"You wouldn't consider my offer, would you, Lora?\"\n\nShe sat back in her chair and laughed. \"Now you are being foolish!\"\n\n\"I suppose I am,\" he said. \"I suppose maybe that's gotten to be a habit. So have you - I mean, thinking about you and kind of hoping. You've spoiled me for any other girl, darling, and when I heard - well, that there wasn't anybody else - there isn't anybody else now, is there, Lora?\"\n\n\"No,\" she said. \"There isn't anybody else now - but there is my job.\"\n\n\"Your boss could easily find someone to take your place. I can't.\"\n\nShe was not deceived by that careless insouciance now. She could have cried for him. Instead she...\nShe shook her head and tried to smile. \"I'm terribly flattered, Ollie\u2014 not by what you said about my job\u2014\"\n\n\"I didn't mean to belittle your job, darling, but think how much more suitable mine would be!\"\n\nShe began, \"I'm not at all sure of that,\" but he stopped her, jumping up and coming around the table to her chair.\n\n\"I am, Lora. I'm sure. So were you once, remember? Remember how we both thought what a swell idea it was? Well, I still think it is. Why can't we go on from there\u2014 as though nothing had happened to interrupt? Come back to Coureville with me\u2014 I'll see you don't regret it!\"\n\nHis face under the hard, bright kitchen lights was strained and white, and she could feel the tension of his body as he stood there waiting. She realized suddenly how fond of him she was, as fond of him, perhaps, as most women were of the men they loved.\nShe could not hope for more than this, she could never hope for the ecstasies she had squandered in her youth.\n\n\"I\u2014 I don't know what to say, Ollie.\"\n\n\"It begins with a Y and ends with an S,\" he said and dropped to his knees beside her chair and took her hands in his. \"And there's an E in the middle. Say it, darling.\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I\u2014 I really wish I could. But I can't.\"\n\n\"Why? You said there was no one else. It isn't\u2014it can't be that other affair, is it, Lora? That's all over, isn't it? He never did show up, did he?\"\n\n\"No. He never did show up.\"\n\n\"Then it can't be\u2014 you can't still be waiting, my dear\u2014 after all this time! You can't! That's not fair! It's not fair to yourself.\"\n\nShe said, in an agony of trying to put into words something she had never put into words before, \"I've got to be fair to him. I'm not still waiting\u2014\n\"But I'm not really waiting for him, Ollie. Yet, if Judd is still alive and in need - hungry, ill, or lonely - it's because of me. \"Nonsense!\"\" And we were both young, 277\n\nShe gave him a sad little smile. \"It does sound like nonsense, doesn't it? But it's true. I can't forget that it was through me he was cheated out of everything that was rightfully his, everything he deserved. I don't often think of him anymore. I don't even know if he'd feel the same about me if he returned \u2013 or if I would feel the same about him. But he might \u2013 and until I know whether he's all right or... or dead, I won't ever feel free to marry anyone else.\"\n\nHe said, \"My dear girl, if you had any idea how morbid all that sounds, you would never say it. Letting something that happened when you were a schoolgirl ruin your whole life \u2013 make a lonely old maid of you\"\nHe took her by the shoulders and shook her gently from side to side. \"Wake up, darling! This is almost nineteen thirty-six! Beautiful ladies no longer burn candles in their windows to light their lost loves' home and die old maids in their yellowed wedding dresses! How do you suppose that lost love of yours would feel if he knew you were wasting your life because of him? I'll tell you how he'd feel! He'd feel it was pretty mean of you, making him responsible! That's how he'd feel, darling!\"\n\nFlags of hot color flared in her cheeks. \"You think you're being terribly clever, don't you?\"\n\n\"I'm doing my best! Lora, will you marry me?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I'll think about it.\" He reached for her but she held him off. \"No, please!\"\nYou'll have to be patient, Ollie. But\u2014 if you wait a little longer\u2014 say until Spring\u2014 if I feel then that it's all right and you still want me:\n\nIt was still raining in Coureville when Ollie Hard returned. The little town was sodden, the fronts of the stone houses glassy with wet, the cobbled streets oozing slush and mud. Though fires burned in every room, Ollie's old walled house reeked with must and dampness. When he drove out to his office at the plant beyond the town walls, his light car slithered and skidded dangerously in the muddy roads.\n\nBut Ollie was happier than he had ever been in his nearly thirty years of life. He whistled more, drank less, and wooed his customers with such beguiling charm that they were amazed to find it still raining when they left him. Once or twice a month, he drove to Marseilles where he dined.\nWith American friends or went to the theater or simply ambled happily around the streets, absorbing their noisy excitement and dreaming of Spring and Lora. He was fond of strolling about the vieux port, where he could see the ships at anchor in the red harbor. Beyond the great V-shaped breakwater or of stopping for an oporto at some sidewalk cafe on the old Place de la Joliette, always teeming with a hundred varieties of sans-sous\u2014penniless sailors, stevedores, and ragged beachcombers. He sat thus one late December afternoon sipping his watery wine and enjoying the first watery rays of sun he had seen in weeks. In the center of the place, a ship's officer was signing on a crew from a crowd of milling, shouting men.\n\nOllie was watching them amusedly and thinking it was as well that a ship's passengers did not know.\na swarthy man broke from the crowd, running across the place. He had not covered ten yards when another man was after him. The pursuer's legs were longer than the swarthy man's, rising and falling like pistons as he ran. He roared in a forceful and picturesque mixture of French and English, as Ollie had ever heard.\n\n\"Au voleur! Come back here with that or I'll wring your dirty neck\u2014 Holla! Pig of a pig, halt, or I'll slit your throat from ear to ear\u2014 hey! Stop thief! Holla-\"\n\nA narrow alley ran alongside the caf\u00e9 before which Ollie sat, and it was clear the swarthy man knew this. As he approached the caf\u00e9, Ollie automatically rose and braced himself. He had no desire to get himself mixed up with that unpalatable-looking pair but after all, the long-legged man sounded suspiciously.\nAn honest man, like one of his countrymen, stopped a thief, though no one else in the place seemed aware. As the swarthy man made a dive for the alley, Ollie shot out his arm, and the thief went down with a force that must have loosened his teeth. His pursuer was on him in a moment. They rolled over and over on the muddy cobbles, snarling like infuriated dogs. Ollie stood by, a little uncertain what to do next, and then he caught sight of the knife in the swarthy man's hand. He yelled, \"Look out, Yank!\" and leaped into the fray. When they finally captured the knife, it had left its mark on them both\u2014on the long-legged man's cheek and on Ollie's wrist. But they had effectively subdued the thief; he lay in the mud grinning wickedly as Yank went plunging through his ragged clothes.\nYank gave a grunt of satisfaction and opened his palm for Ollie to see. In it lay a plain gold ring. Ollie thought it looked like a wedding ring.\n\n\"Is that what he stole from you?\" Yank nodded, panting. \"The dirty little rat!\"\n\n\"What are we going to do with him?\" Yank considered that, eyeing the perfectly mute grinning face on the ground between them. \"Well, I've got my ring back, so I guess I'll just give him a kick and let him go. Come on, let's go!\" He dragged the thief to his feet, turned him around, and lifted his foot. It was shod in a dilapidated shoe, but there was power behind it. The swarthy man went catapulting into the alley like a tossed ball. Yank watched him go, pocketed the ring, and grinned.\nOllie: \"That'll do him more good than turning him over to the gendarmes. Thanks for nabbing him - thanks a lot.\"\n\n\"That's all right. You've got a pretty bad cut on your cheek.\"\n\nYank examined the cheek with a soiled finger and looked at the blood on Ollie's hand. \"Say, he carved you up, too!\"\n\n\"Oh, mine isn't bad, but I think we'd better go over to the chemist and let him clean us up. Can't tell what was on that knife.\"\n\n\"You'd better do that. I'll be all right. I've got to-\" he whirled and looked into the place, but the ship's officer was gone, the crowd scattering. \"Hell, that so and so cheated me out of a berth.\"\n\n\"Well, now there's no reason why you shouldn't come along and get that thing washed up.\" Yank demurred but Ollie insisted. \"Don't be a fool. If it's the cost you're worrying about, it's my treat.\"\nI haven't had this much fun in a long time. Come along, then we'll have a drink.\n\nAnd both were young\n\nFifteen minutes later, they were back at the caf\u00e9 table, their wounds nicely dressed, drinking an oporto together. Ollie suspected his guest would have enjoyed something more substantial. His unshaven cheeks were too hollow, his sunken brown eyes had the glazed look common to men who have had too little food and sleep. But despite his muddy corduroy trousers and shabby seaman's coat, there was a jaunty air of independence about him. So Ollie ordered only the oporto, for the ethics that forbid a proud beggar to accept a meal will always permit him to accept a drink.\n\nYank explained about the theft. \"He saw me drop the ring at Dirty Joe's this morning- the place I've been putting up- and like a fool, I put it down and walked away.\"\n\"And that crowd gave him the chance he was waiting for,\" Ollie said carelessly. \"Are you a sailor?\" The Yank grinned. \"I'm anything that happens to need a pair of hands.\"\n\nOllie said, \"You're from the States, aren't you?\"\n\n\"How'd you guess?\"\n\n\"Intuition. Been over here long?\"\n\n\"Here and a lot of other places.\"\n\n\"The old itching foot, eh?\" The Yank's grin widened. \"That's it.\" The portly man had brought color up under the dark stubble of his beard, giving a brighter polish to his brown eyes. \"It's a great life.\"\n\n\"If your shoes hold out,\" Ollie said dryly, and then, before his guest could answer, \"Why don't you get a regular job and settle down?\"\n\nThe Yank tipped back his chair and wagged his head sadly. \"That's the worst of you good citizens.\"\nYou never meet up with a free spirit that you don't want to put in a clean shirt and chain up in four walls.\n\nOllie said good-naturedly, \"I know, but I kind of hate to see an able-bodied American like you knocking around with all this dirty scum. As a matter of fact, I could use a man like you.\"\n\nYank laughed outright. \"Thanks\u2014 but how do you know you could? How do you know what kind of a man I am?\"\n\n\"Well, I know you can fight and I've heard you curse in two languages. They'd be useful talents in an American shop employing a bunch of French workmen.\"\n\nYank lowered the front legs of his chair. \"You mean you've got a shop over here\u2014 in France?\"\n\n\"Place called Coureville\u2014 about twenty kilometers from here. We manufacture electric iceboxes, vacuum cleaners\u2014 that sort of thing. Some of the parts we make over here, some are sent over from the States.\"\nThe Yank had a business at home. You mentioned looking for work, why not try Couriville? I've been considering staying here, I haven't yearned to return to the States. I feel more at home here. However, I know nothing about iceboxes.\n\nOllie checked his watch and stood up. \"You could learn. If you're interested, come see me. A bus comes out two to three times a day. Ask for Hard. That's Oliver Hard, I've got a card somewhere.\"\n\n\"Mine's Harris,\" the Yank replied, taking the card from Ollie. \"I'll be seeing you tomorrow.\"\n\nBut as Ollie wrote to Lora about his adventure the following evening, he never met the Yank again.\nI. Expected to see his free spirit again\u2014\n\"So you may imagine my surprise to find him wandering around the shop when I got out there this morning. I knew it was too early for the first bus; the poor devil must have walked the twenty kilometers on foot. I imagine he was getting tired of the free life. He had no visible luggage outside of a paper package, so I advanced him a little money and got him a room at old Madame Raymond's\u2014 I suppose the next thing he'll be murdering her in her bed and walking off with the silver.\"\n\n286. And Both Were Young\nWhen Lora answered that letter, her tone was warmer than it had been before\u2014\n\"Even if he turns out to be a thief or a murderer, you've done something pretty wonderful. But what a fraud you are, Ollie! Here you've been posing as a hard-boiled cynic and all the time you were just a darling.\"\nold, big-hearted, softie\u2014That set Ollie up, made him regard his vagabond with an even more tender eye. The free spirit of Place de la Joliette in a clean shirt and sound shoes, shaved and brushed, was a more heartening sight than his new boss could have believed possible. Only time and good food could fill out the hollowed cheeks, nothing but a regular application of soap and water could wash the grime from those hardened hands, but even so John Harris was beginning to look like a respectable citizen. \"A darned good-looking boy,\" he wrote Lora proudly. \"Can't be more than twenty-four or five.\" Her praise was so sweet that his letters during the next few weeks had a good deal to say of his new employee\u2014how intelligent he was, how well he was taking hold of things\u2014I've been using him in the office lately. He's more intelligent than I expected.\nUseful to me than in the shop. I've known from the first he was no ordinary bum. It's my guess he's a college man\u2014 though he's never said so, never mentions his past at all, but I figure he got into some scrape at home and probably his wife left him in a huff, and he lit out in a huff, kid-like. This is only a guess, of course, but I'm almost certain that ring was a wedding ring.\n\n\"Darling, can you smell the Spring over there? It's already here\u2014 my fig trees are in bloom and Jacques has planted the haricots and the ghost appeared on the north turret of the chateau last night. You remember I promised you the ghost\u2014\u201d\n\nWhen Lora had read that letter over and over, she took it down to the living room where her father and mother were sitting, reading the paper and waiting for dinner to be announced. George glanced up as she entered.\nup over the top of his glasses and said \"Hello, pet!\" And Julia said, \"What have you got there, dear?\" Suddenly, she laid down her paper and sat up straight, realizing that Lora had not changed her office dress. Sensing from the look on her daughter's face that something was wrong, she asked, \"What is it, darling?\" \"I want you to read this, mum\u2014 you, too, dad, please. It's from Ollie. You remember my telling you how he picked up a tramp in Marseilles last winter? Well, I think it's Judd.\" George and Julia exchanged a quick look and, together, read Ollie's letter. Then Julia said gently, \"But my dearest, there are hundreds of boys like that drifting around the world.\" \"I know,\" Lora said. \"It seems absurd for me to feel so sure. But I do. I feel positive it's Judd. I was almost sure the last time Ollie wrote\u2014now this\u2014about the ring\u2014\"\n\"Yes, that's it,\" Julia said. \"What do you think, dad?\"\nGeorge shook his head. \"I suppose it could be Judd Harcott as easily as it could be John Jones or Harris. It's possible but not probable. But if Lora feels this way, we'd better look into it.\" He got up. \"Have you kept those other letters of Ollie's, kitten?\" Lora said she had and George said, \"Well, why not bring 'em down and let your mother and I look 'em over?\"\nWhen she had gone up for the letters, Julia turned tensely to her husband. \"It couldn't be, could it, dear? But, oh, if it were Judd! If she could just know!\"\n\"Wouldn't mind knowing myself,\" George said.\nWhen they had gone carefully over Ollie's letters, read and re-read every reference to the redeemed free spirit, they had no more reason for believing that John Harris was Judd Harcott than they had had before.\nBefore they did, but they didn't believe it nevertheless. George Paris still refused to admit this, repeating it was one chance in a million. \"But it's easy enough to find out,\" he said. \"If I were you, Lora, I'd get a letter right off to him. I'll drop a line to Bailey Harcott. And Both Were Young 289. I gave him my word I'd let him know the minute anything new turned up.\" Julia said, \"But wouldn't that be premature, dear? It might not be Judd at all and it's so awful to raise their hopes.\" \"Pooh, it's hope that keeps us alive,\" George said. \"They have a right to know as much as we do.\"\n\nSo, while Lora was writing Ollie, George wrote Bailey Harcott. Three nights later, Judd's father and mother appeared at the Paris house. Julia, George, and Lora were in the living room.\nThe meeting between the two families, who hadn't met since their return from Europe, was casual and urbane. Julia was shocked by the change in Marie Harcott. Her once heavy figure was painfully thin, cheeks flabby under skillful makeup, and her restive eyes sunk in dark pouches. Yet she still held herself proudly, her voice retaining the old imperious ring.\n\n\"Oddly enough, we were planning a trip to New York and when your letter came, we thought we might as well come now as later,\" Marie said.\n\n\"I'm glad you did,\" Julia replied warmly. \"But we haven't raised your hopes too high.\"\n\n\"Oh, dear, no. As I've been telling Bailey for two years now, when Judd's ready to come home, he'll come, never fear!\"\n\nThis made it clear that the change in Marie Harcott did not extend beyond the physical.\nIt was Bailey who pressed for particulars as they talked. He listened with heart-breaking intensity while Lora read references to John Harris from Ollie's letters. Marie sat with her eyes on the purse in her lap. Occasionally, she shook her head, lifted an incredulous shoulder, or dropped a comment - \"Of course that might mean anything- or nothing.\" When the wedding ring was mentioned, she said, \"Isn't it a bit too romantic to suppose he would have kept that all this time?\"\n\nWhen Lora had finished, she folded the letters and said quietly, \"It's just a hunch- perfectly illogical and unreasonable- but I feel it's Judd.\"\n\n\"I'm inclined to agree,\" George Paris said. \"He's Judd's age, his description answers Judd's. It all seems to add up.\"\n\n\"Well, we'll know soon. Lora ought to write to Judd,\" Julia said.\n\"Bailey Harcott got to his feet and began to pace the floor. I don't see why we shouldn't cable him. What's this man, Hard's address? After all, why wait? Besides, Judd is sensitive and proud. He won't know what our attitude is toward him and if this man begins to question him, he might light out again. Now if we cable him and tell him everything's okay\u2014\n\nMarie: Simply cable him to come home at once and stop being ridiculous. Tell him\u2014well, that all is forgiven\u2014something like that!\n\nLora: I'd rather you didn't do that, Mrs. Harcott.\n\nThey all turned to stare at her in astonishment. Marie Harcott's face went scarlet. You'd rather I didn't do it!\n\nLora: I don't think Judd needs to be forgiven. Neither of us want to be forgiven\u2014I think\"\n\"we've expiated our sins.\n\"Are you dictating what I should say to my own son?\"\n\"This man may not be your son.\"\n\"That's for me to find out!\"\n\"No,\" Lora said gently, \"it's for me to find out and I've done what I've thought was wise. I've written Mr. Hard who understands everything and who will make Judd\u2014if it is Judd\u2014understand everything and leave him free to come home or to stay\u2014to do what he thinks is best.\"\nMarie was leaning forward in her chair, her big white hands spread on the arms. She cried, \"Who are you to decide what is wise\u2014\"\n\"I might have been his wife,\" Lora said. \"I never was. I may never be. But we're adults now. We think we've earned the right to be free\u2014to make our own decisions\u2014without interference.\"\nJulia said, \"Lora! Lora, darling!\"\nMarie's hoarse voice drowned out that gentle protest.\"\n\"Do you realize you're talking to his mother?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Lora replied, her face as white as the cluster of flowers at the throat of her black frock. \"But you sent him away from you because of me. That makes me responsible for him, don't you see?\"\n\n\"In short, you refuse to give us that address so I can cable my own son!\"\n\nLora leaned forward in her chair, her hands clasped tight, like a little girl in prayer. \"I'm afraid to give it to you\u2014 please, please don't ask me! I don't mean to be rude\u2014 but you can't realize what this means to me, Mrs. Harcott\u2014 after all these years of being bound\u2014more closely bound than if Judd and I had really gone through with that marriage ceremony. You can't know what it means to be almost a wife and almost a widow\u2014 without ever having been either!\"\n\n\"And you think,\" Marie Harcott said, shaking.\n\"You actually believe that after all this time you two are going to feel the same about each other?\"\n\"I don't know! That's what I'm trying to tell you! How can I know\u2014 I don't suppose Judd knows, either, but I do know that we must have the chance to find out\u2014 for ourselves!\"\n\n\"She's right,\" Bailey Harcott burst out suddenly. \"Perfectly right. It's time we laid off, Marie. If this fellow is Judd, it's Lora who has found him for us\u2014 and for herself.\"\n\n\"And for herself,\" Marie Harcott said, getting the words out with a terrible effort but managing to invest them with a note of playful indulgence. \"Well!\" She stood up, wagged her head with playful solemnity.\nLora: \"I hadn't realized\u2014 that love's young dream could be so enduring.\" She went to Lora and patted the bright head. \"All mothers must expect to take second place in their children's hearts sometime, my dear.\"\n\nJulia had to clap her hand over her mouth to keep from shouting, \"Bravo! Old Girl!\" and George said heartily, \"Second place to your grandmother. It's merely a question of sharing\u2014\"\n\nA few days after that, Lora received Ollie's cable. It read:\n\n\"Harcott is the name. I am your face red. Out of all the tramps floating around the world, I had to pick the lost lover. I would stop. Well, I might have known I was only a cog in the wheel of destiny. And I am flattered that for once in my life I was permitted to play a role worthy of my heroic talents. Yours, 294. And Both Were Young.\nboy friend has been suffering from bad inferiority complex but now he knows all is well is recovering and will probably be with you shortly stop The story is complete and who am I to begrudge it the happy ending stop Blessings my children\u2014 Ollie. Lora forwarded that cable to Mrs. Harcott after she had cried over it a little. Her tears were for Ollie, not for Judd! She had known that John Harris was Judd. But she smiled a little bitterly at Ollie\u2019s assumption that the happy ending had now been achieved. As though she and Judd could so easily bridge those dreadful years, as though they could so easily renew the sweet and terrible ecstasy of their youth. No, they were man and woman, not boy and girl, now, and as man and woman they were free at last to know their own hearts. Lora did not know hers. She could not tell how.\nShe would feel excited when she met Judd again. The emotional inertia that had kept her was lifted now. Every new day brought new zest. Riding to her office on the bus, lying staring at her ceiling at night after the light was out, she would picture the meeting with Judd. She would be in her room, and the maid would come up and say, \"Mr. Harcott is calling, Miss Lora.\" She would be wearing her sapphire gown, and she would see herself with Judd's eyes, coming down the stairs with the light on her hair and her long skirts trailing. He would say, \"Why, Lora! Is it really you, my dear!\" Or she would be coming back from the opera, and the tall strange young man waiting on the hall sofa would rise up at sight of the strange young woman in her furred evening wrap.\nAnd she, with flowers on her shoulder. \"Lora\u2014!\"\nShe never got beyond that first greeting, never knew how she felt nor what she said. One day early in May, she hopped off the Lexington Avenue bus and started up the quiet block of brownstone houses toward her own. It had been an unseasonably hot day and she was fagged and sticky in her tweed business suit. The collar of her blouse had wilted, her head was hot under her felt sports hat, and she dragged it off and carried it in her hand along with her heavy portfolio.\nAs she approached her house, she saw a man come out and start down the street. He passed her, walking rapidly, then turned and caught up with her again. When he was abreast of her, he said, \"I beg your pardon but aren't you\u2014well, Lora!\"\nShe glanced up at him none too cordially and could not take her eyes off that remembered face.\n\"little thinner, a little older, but the same ruddy brown hair growing back thick and crisp from the temples, the same warm ruddy brown eyes, the same smile\u2014a little tremulous, now. \"Why\u2014 Judd!\" \"I\u2014gosh! I didn't know you for a minute\u2014 and that's funny,\" he said, his eyes swinging over her\u2014so young and slender in the utilitarian suit and boyish collar, mussed hair bright in the sunshine\u2014 \"because you\u2014 you haven't changed a bit!\" \"Neither have you. I\u2014where did you come from \u2014I mean when did you?\" \"I just landed this afternoon. Here, let me carry that\u2014 I've already been to the house, been talking to your mother. She said you wouldn't be along for an hour or so, so I thought I'd go get a shave\u2014\" and he ran an apologetic hand over his cheek. \"I hated to take time out\u2014\"\"Just today\u2014you just landed! Well, I\u2014I hardly recognized you.\"\nShe had difficulty getting the key in its lock. \"Nothing ever does happen right,\" she thought. \"I'm as dirty as a pig. It's been terribly hot in the office.\" But it was cool and deserted in the spacious hall of the house. She slammed the door behind them. \"Sit down while I run up and-\"\n\n\"Wait- just a minute,\" his hand was on her arm, turning her around. \"I just want to- look at you.\" The touch of his hand took all her strength. Her heart beat so hard and fast she thought it would suffocate her. But it couldn't be like this- after three years!\n\n\"I'll be right down,\" she stammered.\n\n\"Lora?\" he said softly, his face bending to hers, his hand drawing her toward him.\n\"him. \"Lora\u2014 dear?\" She lifted her eyes and they looked at each other, a look full of fear and hope and wonder. Then Lora drew a long, sobbing breath and his arms closed round her. \"Lora, little Lora without the U!\" And she had thought it would take so long because now they were grown up. She had forgotten that love never grows up.\"", "source_dataset": "Internet_Archive", "source_dataset_detailed": "Internet_Archive_LibOfCong"}
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