A Dear Little Girl at School

“I’d rather be dressed as we were at Margaret’s,” Jennie returned, “for then we could romp around and not care anything about what happened to our clothes.” Jennie hadn’t a spark of vanity and cared so little for dress as to be a surprise to the others.

“Of course that was nice, but I should like the pretty clothes, too,” rejoined Edna with honesty.

“They won’t do anything, either, but dance and sit around and look at each other,” continued Jennie. “I’d much rather play games like ‘Going to Jerusalem’ and ‘Forfeits’ and all those things we did at Margaret’s. I have all the dancing I want at dancing-school. No, I shall tell my mother I don’t want to go.” Jennie had made up her mind, and that was the end of the matter for her.

Therefore the others heard very little of what went on at Clara’s party. That it came off they knew, and there was much talk of what this one or that one wore, of how late they stayed and how many dances they had, but that was all, and the stay-at-homes decided that, after all they had not missed much, and if Clara’s intention was to rouse their envy she failed of her purpose.

At the next meeting of the club Nettie was voted in as an honorary member. “That seems to be about the only thing we can do,” Agnes announced, “and everyone seems to want her.” So the thing was done.

If there was one thing above another which Nettie did long for it was to become a member of the club whose wonderful doings she had heard so much of from Edna. The two had seen each other often, and now that the spring was nearing, rarely a Saturday came but that they met. It was Edna who took her the joyful news on Friday evening.

“I’ve something perfectly lovely to tell you,” she announced as soon as she was inside the door of the little house.

“What?” asked Nettie with a quick smile of interest.

“You’re going to be a member of our club.”

“Oh, Edna, how can I be? I don’t go to your school.”

“I know, and that is why we had to make you an honorary member,” Agnes said.

“Oh, I think you are all the dearest things I ever knew,” cried Nettie. Then her face fell, “But, oh, Edna, how can we get all of you girls in this little bit of a house?”

“Oh, you can meet in the general club-room at the Evanses,” Edna told her. “Agnes says so and it is in their attic, you know. When a girl can’t very well have the meeting at her house we have it there. Once it was to be at Betty Lowndes’s house and her little sister had the chicken-pox so we couldn’t meet there and we had it in the attic.”

Nettie’s face cleared, but presently a new difficulty presented itself, one which she hesitated to speak of but which was a very serious one. How should she tell Edna what was in her mind? But she remembered that Edna had seen the poverty of the family stores and that there was no need to make any pretence to her. “There’s another thing,” she began, “I haven’t any money, and I couldn’t ask mother for refreshments.”

“I thought of that,” answered Edna; “we might give them rice,” and then they both laughed. “If there were only some way you could earn some money and I could help you,” continued Edna with more seriousness. “Perhaps we could think of some way. If it were something we could both do, I could help you.”

“You are always so good that way,” replied Nettie gratefully.

“Well, anyhow,” said Edna, “it won’t be for some time yet that you have to have the meeting and perhaps we can think of something. If we can’t would you mind if I ask mother what we could do?”

“I’d rather not,” replied Nettie doubtfully, “not unless you have to.”

“Then I won’t unless I have to.”

“Perhaps my mother can think of a way, only I don’t want to say anything to her, for she will feel badly because she can’t let me have the money, and I know I ought not to ask her for it. I won’t ask, of course, but if I tell it will be the same as asking, and it will make her feel so unhappy if she must say no, she can’t.”

“Then we must try very hard to think of a way without telling anyone. You wouldn’t need so very much, you know, Nettie, for we can have real cheap things like peanuts and gingerbread, or something like that. I believe fifty cents would be enough to spend, and a dollar would be plenty.”

This seemed like a large amount to Nettie, though she did not say so, and the thought of earning that much weighed heavily upon her after Edna had gone home.

Edna’s thoughts, too, were busy all the evening, and she was so absorbed in Nettie’s dilemma that she sat with arms on the table and doing nothing but looking off into space so that at last her father said. “What’s the matter, little girl? You haven’t even asked for your favorite children’s page of my evening paper,” and he handed it over to her.

This was something that Edna always asked for and she took it now with some little interest, and roused herself to look down the columns. Presently she breathed softly. “Oh!” She had seen something which gave her an idea for Nettie, and she went to bed that night full of a hope which she meant her friend should know as soon as possible the next day.

CHAPTER IX

THE PUZZLE

When Edna awoke on Saturday morning her first thought was of Nettie and she scrambled out of bed that she might not lose a moment’s time in telling her of the discovery she had made the night before. She hurried through her breakfast and was off to the little house as soon as she had been given leave by her mother. She carried the page of her father’s paper safely folded in her hand, and ran nearly all the way, arriving breathless. She could scarcely wait for Nettie to open to her knock, and her words tumbled over each other as she replied to Nettie’s greeting of “How nice and early you are,” by saying, “Oh, I have something so nice to tell you.”

“You had something nice to tell me when you came last evening,” returned Nettie; “you don’t mean to say there is anything more.”

“Yes, I’ve found a way that maybe you can make some money, a dollar.”

This was exciting, “Oh, do tell me quick,” returned Nettie.

Edna hastily began to open the paper she carried, and then she thrust it before Nettie, pointing to a line and saying, “There, read that.”

Nettie did as she was told, her eyes eagerly running over the words. “Oh, Edna,” she said, “do you believe we could do it?”

“Why, of course, but you see the main thing is to get it done as quickly as possible, for the one who gets the answer to the puzzle the quickest and who has the clearest answer will get the first prize. Maybe we couldn’t get the very first, but we could get the second, and that’s a dollar. We must set to work right away. I thought we’d do the best we could and then we’d get Cousin Ben to fix it up for us.”

“Would that be right?”

“Oh, I think so, for it doesn’t say you mustn’t have any help; it just says the one who sends it in the soonest. I left a note for Cousin Ben to stop here if he had time this morning.”

“Do you think he will?”

“If he has time. I told him it was something very particular. You don’t mind his knowing, do you, Nettie? He won’t tell, I am sure. You don’t know how well he can keep a secret.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Nettie replied, “because he has been here and knows all about everything.”

“Then let’s go at it.”

“I must finish the dishes first.”

“Then would you rather I should help you with them or start on the puzzle?”

“I think you’d better start on the puzzle.”

“Very well. I’ve been thinking a little about it, and I believe I’ve guessed part. They are in the paper every week on Fridays, and I often do them, but this is the first time I’ve noticed that a prize has been offered.”

She took off her coat and hat, sat down at the table and spread out the paper before her. Nettie furnished paper and pencil and then went back to her work in the kitchen. The two were busying their brains over the puzzle when Ben appeared an hour later.

“Hallo,” he said, “what’s up, kiddies?”

“Why you see,” Edna began, “Nettie has been taken into the club, and when her time comes to have the club meeting she won’t have any way of getting the refreshments, so we thought and thought of what we could do to get some money, and last night I saw in the Children’s Corner of the Times that they would give prizes for guessing a puzzle, you know those puzzles, Cousin Ben.”

“Yes, my child, I knew them of yore.”

“Well, don’t you see if we can only guess this one quick and can send in the answer right away we might get a dollar, anyhow. We have guessed a lot of it, but I thought maybe you could help us a little and tell us how to fix it up very nicely. Have you very much to do to-day?”

“Not so much but that I can spare you a little time for such laudable ambition. Where’s your puzzle?”

Edna produced the paper and then showed him what they had already done. “Do you think it is right as far as we’ve gone?” she asked anxiously.

He looked over the page she offered him. “Pretty good so far. Let me see. I think that must be John B. J on B. you see.”

“Of course, it is, why didn’t we think of that? And this one, what do you think that can be?”

Ben looked at this thoughtfully, and presently declared he had it. So bit by bit the puzzle was completed and within an hour was in such shape as pleased the girls immensely.

“Now,” said Ben, “I’ll tell you what I can do. I want to take the noon train to town and I’ll get this right down to the newspaper office myself; I have to go near there, and so it will reach them much quicker than if it were sent by mail, you see.”

“Oh, Cousin Ben, you are a perfect dear!” cried Edna. “I think that is just lovely of you. We are so much obliged, aren’t we, Nettie?”

“I am very much obliged to both of you,” returned Nettie sedately. Edna’s interest was so great that she forgot she was not doing this for herself at all.

“Shall we tell your mother?” asked Edna when Ben had gone, promising that he would attend to the puzzle the very first thing.

“Why – ” Nettie hesitated, “I’d like to have her know and yet I would love dearly to have it for a surprise if we did win. When do you suppose we will know?”

“Not before next Friday, I suppose, but that will be soon enough, won’t it?”

“Yes, except that I can scarcely wait to know, and it is hard to keep a secret from your mother that long.”

“Why don’t you tell her that you have a secret and that you can’t tell her till Friday?”

“I might do that, but then suppose I shouldn’t win; we would both be disappointed.”

“What did you tell her just now that we were all doing?”

“I told her we were doing a puzzle, and she said as long as I had done my morning’s work I could stay with you. I have still my stockings to darn, but I can do those this afternoon. Mother always lets me do them when I choose; so long as I get them done before Sunday, that is all she asks.”

Edna looked very sympathetic. She did not have to do her stockings nowadays, though she remembered that it had been one of the week’s tasks when she was staying with Aunt Elizabeth, and it was one she much disliked. She stayed a little while longer and then returned home, for Dorothy was coming that afternoon and they were both going over to see Margaret to make what Dorothy said was their party call.

The weather was quite mild; already the buds were beginning to swell on the trees, and the crocuses were starting up in the little grass plot in front of Nettie’s home. Edna stopped to look at them as she passed out. She was full of Nettie’s secret but she had promised not to tell. She wished Cousin Ben would come back so she could talk it over with him, but he was not to return till late in the day and meantime she must occupy herself and not say a word of what was uppermost in her mind.

She found Celia and Agnes in the library talking earnestly. There was a pleasant aroma of gingerbread pervading the house, and the fire in the open grate looked very cheerful. What a dear place home was, and how glad she was always to get back to it. Agnes held out her hand as she came in. “Well, chickabiddy,” she said, “where have you been? You are as rosy as an apple.”

“I’ve been down to Nettie’s. I’m glad I don’t have to darn my stockings.”

“Does Nettie have to?”

“Yes, and she has to wash the dishes, too. I did darn my stockings last year, but Katie does them all this year, so I don’t even have to be sorry for mother and think of her doing them, for Katie is paid to do them.”

Agnes laughed. “But I have no doubt you would do them just as cheerfully as Nettie does, if you had to do them.”

“I don’t know about the cheerful part, but I wouldn’t yell and scream.”

“Let us hope you would not,” said Celia. “I should hope you knew better than to behave like that.”

“Of course,” said Edna. “What were you talking about, you two?”

“Shall we tell her, Agnes?” asked Celia.

“Why not? It will soon be talked over by all of us.”

“Well, we were talking of having something very special for the last meeting of the club, after school closes. You see most of the girls go away for the summer, and we shall have to give the club a holiday, too.”

“What nice special thing were you thinking of?”

“We thought if we could have some nice little fairy play and have it out of doors, it would be lovely. We would invite our parents and the teachers and have a real big affair.”

“How perfectly lovely. What is the play?”

“Oh, dear, we haven’t come to that yet. We did think some of having ‘Alice in Wonderland,’ but that has been done so often. We were wishing for something original.”

“Why don’t you get Cousin Ben to help you? He has so many funny things to say about the woodsy creatures.”

“The very one. Why didn’t we think of him before, Agnes? He may be silly about some things, but he would certainly have ideas about that. Where is he, Edna?”

“He has gone in town, and won’t be back till late in the afternoon.”

“Trust you for keeping track of his movements,” said Celia laughing. “I don’t believe Ben yawns but Edna knows it. Well, we will see what he says this evening.”

“Couldn’t you and he come to our house after supper?” asked Agnes.

“I’ll find out and ’phone you when he comes in. He doesn’t generally have anything special on hand Saturdays, unless something is going on at the Abercrombies’.”

This gave Edna a new theme to think of and in consequence she did not find it hard to keep from talking of Nettie’s secret when she and Dorothy met that afternoon.

They took the news of the probable play to Margaret who wanted at once to tell Mrs. MacDonald about it. She showed great interest and asked all sorts of questions. “Why couldn’t you have it here in my grounds?” she asked. “There is a good place just back of the house where the terrace is. I hope you will let it be Margaret’s meeting and let me furnish everything.”

“Oh, Mrs. Mac, there will be ever and ever so many people, for we are going to ask our families and the teachers and all those.” Edna was quite overpowered.

“Well, what of that? Haven’t I as much right to entertain them as any of the others have, and have I less room than my neighbors?”

“Why, no, you have more.”

“Very well, then. I put in my plea the first one and I hope you will lay it before your next meeting.” She spoke almost as if she were angry but there was a merry little twinkle in her eyes which the girls had come to know well. The next words were, “Go out, Margaret, and ask Lizzie to send in some of the day’s baking for your friends. There must be scones, or something of that kind.” The girls liked the Scotchy things, as they called them, that Mrs. MacDonald had for them, and the hot scones, with a “wee bittie” of honey or jam were generally as pleasant a treat as they found anywhere.

When Edna had returned from her visit she told Celia of what Mrs. MacDonald had offered and before they had finished talking of it, Cousin Ben came in, and was immediately set upon, though Edna ran out to meet him in the hall that she might whisper, “Did you leave it all right?”

“First thing,” he returned. “It couldn’t have been an hour from the time I left you before it was at the office.”

“Oh, goody, goody!” exclaimed Edna softly, patting her hands together. “Agnes has been here, Cousin Ben, and Celia wants to ask you something. Come into the library, please.”

He followed her in and the subject was opened to him of the little fairy play.

He shook his head. “Can’t promise. That’s a good deal to spring on a fellow unbeknownst. I’ll have to think about it.”

“But can’t you go over to Agnes’s this evening to talk it over?” asked Celia.

Now Ben admired Agnes very much, though he would not have it known for the world. “I was going to Abercrombies,” he said with apparent reluctance.

“Oh, but you see Will Abercrombie every day,” said Celia coaxingly, “and we do so want to have your help, Ben.”

“Well, perhaps I can ’phone to Will not to expect me,” said Ben giving in. “But if I take hold of this thing you girls will all have to do your part.”

“Oh, we will,” Celia promised earnestly. “We are none of us up to an original play, but you are.”

“Such flattery,” laughed Ben. “Well, if I am going to call on ladies I must go up and make myself look respectable.”

“He’ll do it,” said Celia, as soon as her cousin had left the room. “He has as good as promised.”

Whatever was said that evening was not reported, but it is enough to say that Ben had promised to see what he could do, and would let them know later when he had gone over the subject more thoroughly, so with this the girls had to be satisfied.

There was no more to be heard of either puzzle or play during the week while school was occupying them all, but on Friday Mrs. MacDonald’s offer was presented to the club and unanimously accepted with thanks.

There was no delay in Edna’s demand for the evening paper on that Friday, but to her great disappointment her father found that he had left it in the car, and there was no way to get another copy till the next day. Edna was almost in tears, for she had so counted on letting Nettie know the very first thing in the morning.

“I am so sorry,” said her father. “I forgot entirely that the Friday issue was the one in which you are always so interested. I will bring you out a copy to-morrow, daughter. I will try not to forget it, but I give you leave to call me up on the long distance, or rather the out-of-town line and get you to remind me. If you will call, say, at about ten o’clock, I will send one of the boys out for it from the office.”

This was certainly more than Edna had any right to expect, and she thanked him as heartily as she could, though deep down in her heart the disappointment still lingered and she felt that it would be harder still for Nettie to wait another day.

However, she went early to the little house as she had promised, and saw Nettie at the window on the watch for her. She looked so pleased when she saw her friend that Edna was all the more grieved at having to tell her she must wait till evening. “Oh, I am so glad you have come,” cried Nettie as she met her at the door. “I have been watching for you for ages.” And she drew her inside.

CHAPTER X

A DOWNFALL OF PRIDE

“Oh, Edna, Edna!” Nettie jumped up and down and fairly hugged her friend in her joy.

“Why, why,” Edna began, but Nettie interrupted her with “I have it! I have it!”

“Have what?” Edna was still mystified.

“The prize! The prize! I won it. The money came in the mail this morning.”

Edna had not counted on this possibility and it was as much of a surprise to her as it had been to Nettie. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried, and she, too, began to dance up and down hugging Nettie as fervently as Nettie had hugged her. “Have you told your mother?”

“Oh, yes, I couldn’t possibly keep it.”

“Do show me what they said.” So Nettie took her in and showed her the precious letter with the enclosed order for a dollar, which made it seem a very real thing.

“Ben will be so pleased,” said Edna with satisfaction. “It is really owing to him that it got there soon enough.”

“And to you for helping me and for telling me in the first place. I think I ought to divide with you.”

“Why, Nettie Black, you won’t do any such thing. Don’t you know that it was all on your account that we did it in the first place?”

“Ye-es, but after your doing so much it doesn’t seem fair for you to have none of it.”

“I’ll have some of the refreshments, won’t I?”

Nettie laughed. “I hope so.”

“Have you decided what you will have?”

“Not exactly. I thought I would wait till you came to talk it over with mother. You said something about gingerbread and my mother can make the nicest you ever saw.”

“Would she make some for you? I wonder if it would cost very much. None of the girls have had gingerbread, and I am sure it would be liked.”

“Then let’s go see what mother says.”

Mrs. Black was in the kitchen making bread for her Saturday baking. She smiled on the two children’s eager faces which showed that something of unusual interest was going on. “Mother,” began Nettie, “you know I am to have the club meeting after a while, and it is to be at the general club-room at Miss Agnes Evans’s house, and you know we always have refreshments,” Nettie spoke as if she had already attended every meeting, when that of the afternoon before had been her very first.

“Yes, I remember you told me, dear,” said her mother.

“And I told you that was why we tried for the puzzle prize, so that I could pay for my refreshments. Does gingerbread cost very much?”

“No, my dear, it costs less than any other kind of cake.”

“But how much? I mean how much would it cost to make enough for – for fourteen girls?”

“Why, not a great deal. I could bake them in the little scalloped pans so they would be more crusty. I don’t believe it would cost more than twenty-five cents, for you know we have our own eggs.”

“Good! Then what else could I have? We can’t have more than three things.”

“Let me think for a minute and I will perhaps be able to suggest something.” She went on kneading her bread while the children watched her. Presently she said: “I have a bottle of raspberry shrub that your Aunt Henrietta gave me and which we have never used. Would you like to have that? I can recommend it as a very nice drink, and I should be very glad to donate it.”

“Would it be nice?” Nettie looked at Edna for endorsement.

“I think it would be perfectly delicious,” she decided, “and nobody has had anything like that. We have had ginger ale and lemonade, and chocolate and such things.”

“Then, mother, that will be very nice, thank you,” said Nettie, as if Edna were at the other end of a telephone wire. “Now for number three. I shall have ever so much to spend on that, so I could have most anything.”

“What have the other girls had?” Mrs. Black asked Edna.

“Oh, different things. Some have had sandwiches and chocolate and some kind of candy, and some have had ice cream and cake and candy; some have had – let me see – cake and lemonade and fruit, but the third thing is generally some kind of candy.”

“Do you remember what Uncle David sent us last week?” Mrs. Black asked Nettie.

“The maple sugar? Oh, yes, but would it be nice to have just little chunks of maple sugar?”

“No, but don’t you know what delicious creamy candies we made by boiling and stirring it? Why not do some of it that way? It would be a little out of the usual run, and quite unlike what is bought at the shops.”

“What do you think, Edna?” Nettie again appealed to her friend.

“I think it would be fine. Oh, Nettie you will have things that aren’t a bit like anyone else has had and they will all be so good. I am sure the girls will say so.”

Nettie beamed. This was such a pleasant thing to hear. “But I haven’t spent but twenty-five cents of my prize money,” she said.

“Are you so very sorry for that?” her mother asked.

“No, but – Is it all mine, mother, to do what I choose with, even if I don’t spend it for the club?”

“Why, of course, my dear. You earned it, and if I am able to help you out a little that should make no difference.”

“Then I think I know what I should like to do with it. I shall make two secrets of it and one I shall tell you, mother, and the other I can tell Edna.”

“Tell me mine now,” said Edna getting down from the chair.