Winona of the Camp Fire Part 17

"Edith has a mandolin," volunteered Lucy Hillis.

"Everybody that has a musical instrument had better bring it," said Mrs.

Bryan.

"We'll contribute a very fine dog with a stunning howl!" said Winona mischievously.

"That dog isn't a musical instrument, he's a famine-breeder!" said Louise; then paused, for Mrs. Bryan went into the dining-room to telephone Marie Hunter. Edith Hillis was at Marie's, and both girls were as excited over the cake-sale idea as the rest.

Next afternoon the whole Camp Fire had a business meeting at Mrs.

Bryan's. Besides the girls who had originally belonged, five others had joined. It was a very pleasant meeting, helped out with afternoon cocoa and sandwiches that the lunch-getters had prepared. They discussed ways and means till they could scarcely hear themselves think. Never was there such an unanimous meeting. For everybody wanted to go camping, and to go camping money is needed. So three committees were appointed, one to buy materials, another to borrow an eligible drug-store for Sat.u.r.day, and a third to attend to advertising. The girls were to meet Friday, and each take home what materials she needed. Sat.u.r.day morning the materials were to be returned to the drug-store in the shape of salable things to eat. It even occurred to one genius to allot to each girl a certain thing to make.

"It's a good thing to do," she said modestly-it was Dorothy. "Once our Sunday-school cla.s.s gave a sale, and every single girl brought chocolate cake."

"I remember that," said Marie. "But it turned out all right."

"Oh, yes," said Dorothy laughing. "We hung a sign in the window, 'Chocolate cake sale!' and it all went. But it mightn't have!"

So Marie made out a careful list of what each girl was to make.

"I don't see how we'll ever sell all those!" she said, looking worried.

But they did. People always will buy bread and cake and m.u.f.fins. At the end of the first sale, on Sat.u.r.day, Edith Hillis, who was on duty, put seventeen dollars in her hand-bag to take up to Helen.

"There are orders, too," she reported. "We have eight dozen parkerhouse rolls and two dozen and a half biscuits promised for different lunches and suppers next week, beside jam orders. Here's the list."

"That ought to be five dollars more," counted Helen.

Edith forgot for once to smooth her dress and pat her curls in the excitement of success.

"Three more as good and we'll have all the money we need!" she declared.

And, as a matter of fact, the three following sales were better than the first. Adelaide developed a real talent for jelly-making, and the orders for that alone helped a good deal. At the crowning sale, the next one to the last, they made twenty-one dollars, and eighteen and nineteen at the other two.

Mrs. Bryan went off to the city to buy tents, and was understood to have come back with ten that were marvellous bargains. The Camp Fire darned all its stockings, and tidied itself, and was collectively very good at home, so as to leave a pleasant last impression.

Mrs. Merriam lamented that she was going to be very, very lonely, for Tom was going out camping with the Scouts only a day or so later than Winona and Florence were to go with Camp Karonya. As for Puppums, there were many arguments about him, for Tom thought he would make a fine mascot, and so did Winona and Florence. It was finally settled by the fact that another of the Scouts owned a collie and was going to take him; and Puppums, while he was a friendly dog in the main, and indeed had quite a social circle of his own, bit collies whenever he saw them.

So there were bound to be fights if Puppums went with Tom, and it was decided that the girls should have him.

n.o.body thought there were going to be any more members added to the Camp. But one afternoon, while Winona was out in her back garden with Louise and Helen and a medicine ball, Nataly Lee from next door came calling. The three girls were dusty and tousled; Helen's braid was half-undone, the ribbon was off Winona's curls, and Louise, who had just fallen full-length across the nasturtiums in a vain effort to get the ball, had a streak of mould and gra.s.s-stain from her shoulder to the hem of her skirt. Altogether, they were as badly mussed a trio as you could wish to see, when Tom came out the back door toward them.

He said nothing whatever, but he bore high in his hand the very largest tray the house afforded, and in its black and banged centre reposed a small calling-card which said "Miss Nataly Lee. The Cedars." He made a low bow, and held the tray toward his sister.

Winona took off the card, and the three girls looked at it together.

"Where do you suppose she keeps the cedars?" asked Louise in a stage whisper. "There aren't any next door."

"Sh-h. That must be her ancestral estate," surmised Helen respectfully.

"Oh, dear, Winnie, I can't go in this way, to a call that has a card and all that!"

"Of course you can," said Winona cheerfully. "I did worse than that when I went calling on _her_. I didn't take any card at all. To be frank with you, I haven't any. Anyway, she received me with her wrapper on, and that's no better than gra.s.s-stains."

"Come on-be sports!" urged Tom, waving his tray. "I think she's come to say that she's willing to be welcomed in your midst."

"How do you know?" asked all three girls at once.

"I don't know-I only think so, because Billy told me," said Tom.

"We certainly look dreadful!" mourned Helen, but they all brushed each other off and straightened each other, and trotted into the house.

Nataly did not look as if she had ever seen a negligee. She had on white gloves and a veil, and carried a card-case, and altogether, except that her hair was down and her skirt short, she might very well have been grown up.

"It's a charming day," she began when she had been introduced to Helen and Louise.

"It certainly is," agreed Louise, "and a lot too nice to stay in the house. Don't you want to come on out in the back yard with us and play ball?"

But Nataly declined. She said she didn't think it would be good for her gloves.

Then there was a pause, because n.o.body could think of anything to say.

Finally Winona began:

"Tom says you think you might like to join our Camp Fire, after all. Do you think you would?"

Nataly looked as if she was about to take a dreadful plunge, but she said, "Yes, I believe I would like to. The doctor says I ought to be out in the open air, and you are, aren't you?"

"We certainly are!" said Louise. "That's where we were when you came to call. Want to come?"

Louise was visibly fretting at having to stay indoors, and finally Winona had to lead the way out to the back garden again. And, naturally, the first thing to meet their eyes was the big black tray, with Nataly's own card fatally conspicuous in the very middle of it. Winona tried to steer her around it, but it was no use. Your own name is one thing you are sure to see or hear before anything else. Winona, talking sixteen to the dozen about everything she could think of, picked up the card furtively and put it in her pocket. Unfortunately it wasn't possible to pocket the tray.

However, they arranged with Nataly that she go camping with them. She could not join till the next monthly ceremonial meeting, but there was to be one soon after camp was pitched. So it was settled.

"I wonder who she'll be friends with specially?" said Helen after she had gone. "She doesn't seem to fit into us, somehow."

"We'll have to make her fit," said Winona gayly. "To tell you the truth Helen, she reminds me of a kitten I knew once. It belonged to three old maiden ladies. It didn't know how to be a kitten at all-the poor little thing thought it was a cat!"

"Well, perhaps Nataly'll turn out a kitten, but I doubt it, even with you helping," said Louise. "Come on, let's finish our game."

CHAPTER TEN

As the clock struck eight-thirty Monday morning, on the last week in July, one Guardian, one dog, thirteen big girls and seven small ones lined up for their long-antic.i.p.ated hike to Camp Karonya. They planned to walk half the distance that day, sleep at a farmhouse about half-way to the woods, and finish the next day at their destination. They were all in middies, with dark skirts, and the most comfortable slippers money could buy-it hurts to hike in tight shoes. They had hats, of course, but Edith Hillis, in addition, carried a parasol. Each girl carried her own night-things and drinking-cup and luncheon. The provisions, and the rest of the baggage, had gone over to the camping-place in Mr. Bryan's automobile and Louise Lane's father's delivery-wagon.

Early as it was, quite a lot of people were out to see the girls off, and even Puppums curvetted proudly as he noticed the attention he was getting, for he was a very vain dog. He might well be vain, because Louise had attached a large label to his collar which said "Camp Fire Dog," and he was not allowed to chew it off.

They walked slowly, and it felt very much like going to a picnic guaranteed to last forever. Presently someone started a marching song, and everyone joined in. They walked easily on, having a very good time as they went; and before they knew it noon had come, and it was time to have lunch.