CHAPTER IIIHARD AT IT
THE girl whom Joanne settled upon as the one she would like for her best friend was Winnie Merryman. Joanne observed her across the big schoolroom that first morning. She was the exact opposite of the dark-haired, dark-eyed, pale-faced Joanne, being rosy and fair-haired, with big turquoise blue eyes and lips which smiled a friendly greeting to Joanne as, a little scared, the latter took the seat assigned her and glanced around the room.
At recess Joanne, too proud, and still too scared, to make advances, stood off with head up and a don’t care look on her face. Winnie at once made her way over to the new pupil. “I don’t believe you know any of the girls, do you?” she said.
Joanne shook her head. “No, I don’t know a single one.”
“Then come and eat lunch with me. I am Winifred Merryman. I can tell you about the other girls and you can meet some of them so you won’t feel that you are among entire strangers.”
This was the beginning and by Friday afternoon Joanne and Winifred were sworn friends, moreover Joanne knew most of the other girls, by name at least, and was in high favor with a number of them, being considered something of a heroine because of her travels and her somewhat unusual experiences.
“Just think,” said Betty Streeter to Esther Rhodes, “she speaks languages, French and Spanish, and she’s been to all sorts of queer places like Hawaii and the West Indies.”
“Yes, but she’s awfully backward in some of her studies; math. and Latin, for example.”
“Yes, but she’s very bright; I heard Miss Hunter say so; she’ll catch up.”
“She looks very delicate.”
“I believe she is, but I heard her say to Miriam Overton that she had always been coddled, carried around in cotton wool, as it were, but that now she was going to join the Girl Scouts and have more outdoor life. That should bring her up if anything can.”
“Perhaps,” returned Esther doubtfully.
It was true enough that Joanne had declared that she intended to become a Girl Scout although as yet, her grandmother’s consent had not been gained. It took a little diplomacy to get this, but Joanne was tactful, and first, by coaxings and cajolings, won her grandfather over to her side, then one day she brought home the rosy Winnie who was certainly a brilliant example of an outdoor girl.
“Of course,” Winnie told Mrs. Selden, “I don’t suppose my robust appearance is all due to scouting, but mother thinks ever so much can be laid to that. I know myself, that I get flabby and lazy and headachy when I stay indoors too much; so do lots of the girls. Why, look at Miriam Overton; she used to have indigestion and couldn’t walk a mile without giving out. Now she’s given up eating so much candy and takes more exercise so she can do a five mile hike with any of us.”
So in the face of these and other arguments Mrs. Selden finally gave in, especially when she learned the character of the girls who comprised Sunflower Troop. However, it was not at once that Joanne was able to attend her first rally, for, being not only a high-strung, nervous young person, she was likewise a very ambitious one who went at her studies with a rush and a determination to be outdone by no one, so that more than once she was kept at home because of headaches which followed fits of weeping when she thought herself unable to keep up with her class, or failed in some of her work. On such occasions her grandfather bore her off to Cousin Ned’s farm from which she returned with renewed confidence and quite ready to start in again with fresh vigor.
So at last it came about that it was a very enthusiastic girl who perched upon the arm of her grandfather’s chair on the evening of the day when she attended her first rally.
“Just think, Grad,” she exclaimed, “there are ever so many tests I don’t have to bother about. You have already taught me how to tie more than four knots, so I can check those off. The girls were so surprised that I knew so many, but when I told them I belonged to the navy they understood.”
“You belong to the navy?” Her grandfather softly pinched her cheek.
“Why, of course. Haven’t you always belonged, and didn’t my father? Of course I knew the names of governors of states, only the District of Columbia doesn’t have any, and Washington hasn’t any mayor. As for the history of the flag and how to fly it, I’d be a poor sort of granddaughter to a navy man if I didn’t know that much. There are ten Scout laws, and I think I know them perfectly. Don’t you want to hear me say them, Grad?”
“Most certainly.”
Joanne jumped down and stood rigidly before her grandfather. “First comes the promise,” she began; “I must promise to try to do three things: To do my duty to God and my country. To help other people at all times. To obey the laws of the Scouts. The laws are these: ‘A Girl Scout’s honor is to be trusted. A Girl Scout is loyal. A Girl Scout’s duty is to be useful and to help others. A Girl Scout is a friend to all and a sister to every other Girl Scout. A Girl Scout is courteous. A Girl Scout keeps herself pure. A Girl Scout is a friend to animals. A Girl Scout obeys orders.A Girl Scout is cheerful. A Girl Scout is thrifty.’”
“Fine! Fine!” cried her grandfather when she had finished. “I hope my little Puss will be able to keep those laws.”
“It’s going to be pretty hard to keep them all but I shall try very, very hard, for I am just crazy to become a Golden Eaglet.”
“And what’s that, pray?”
“Well, you see first you’re a Tenderfoot, then you are a Second Class Scout, then a First Class; just like the middies, you know. Well, when you have passed the tests for a whole lot of things, fourteen or something, you can become a Golden Eaglet. You can get badges for other things, too. I think I can pass the test for Interpreter and I know something about signalling and I can swim a little, but there are ever so many more; I will show you the list in my handbook. Oh, Grad, it is a perfect cinch that I can go to Cousin Ned’s, for that’s where I shall practise horsemanship and farming.”
Her grandfather threw back his head and laughed heartily. “I see you becoming a farmerette,” he said.
“Oh, but I can be, really I can. Now don’t you laugh at me, you dear old blessedness,” she dashed over to give him a hug, “for I’m counting on you for first aid and instructor in a lot of things.”
“Better not place too much confidence in my powers.”
“Oh, but of course I can, Mr. Doctorman, for where could I find any one who could tell me more about Red Cross stuff and Civics and all that?”
“Well, well, we’ll see. Do you know this is the very first day that you have forgotten to ask about Pablo, being so interested in this new idea, of course.”
“Oh, Grad, tell me, have you heard at last from his people?”
“Well, chatterbox, if you will give me a chance to get a word in edgewise I might be able to tell you something.”
Joanne promptly drew up a chair and sat down in front of him, folding her hands in her lap. “I won’t say one word till you say I may. Please now go ahead and tell me.”
“Very well, then; I have heard from Pablo’s parents and they give their consent to the boy’s remaining in this country. They really seem glad of the opportunity which has come to him. The father writes that the fact that one of his family can be provided for in this great United States is to be considered in the light of a blessing.”
“And——” began Joanne, then put her finger on her lip and went no further.
“So your Cousin Ned, finding the boy really quite a willing, capable little chap, is ready to do the best he can for him, hoping in time that he will prove an apt and reliable assistant. So, that’s settled.”
Joanne could restrain herself no longer, but flungherself into her grandfather’s arms. “And Chico! Oh, Grad, you will let me learn to ride him.”
“Why, yes. I thought we’d decided that,” he said patting her shoulder.
“But Gradda hasn’t said it was settled.”
“Nonsense! Gradda won’t object.”
“Oh, but she does, she does. She’s afraid Chico will run away with me and break my back or neck or something. She can’t get over the fact that he was born wild.”
Her grandfather laughed. “Then we shall have to calm her fears, and let her be convinced that whatever he may have been in his infancy he is now a very gentle little beast.”
“Oh, you blessed darling! I’m so glad you’ve retired and are going to stay at home always, for now I shall have you to come to my rescue in any emergency.” She threw her arms around her grandfather’s neck and kissed him ardently.
“Here, here,” he cried, “don’t eat me up. Do you mean you expect me to come to your rescue if Chico runs away with you?”
“Oh, no, no,” Joanne shook her curly head. “I never expect Chico to run away with me; I mean when it comes to tiffs with Gradda. She is a dear, of course, but she is always so anxious about me that she makes my life miserable. She wants me to take nice, orderly little walks around the block and never to cross the street alone for fear I’ll be run over. She is afraidI’ll get rough and suffragettish if I do the stunts the other girls do, and she’s always feeling my hands to see if they are cold and asking if I am in a draught and where is my appetite and did I sleep well last night and am I warm enough, hadn’t I better put on a sweater and do I think I should study so hard and—— Oh dear!” Joanne gave a long sigh.
Her grandfather shook his head thoughtfully. “I understand, Pickings. She is too apprehensive; it’s her way, but maybe we can get her used to a different point of view; it will have to be done gradually, of course. Meantime this old fellow will keep an eye on you and if he finds you are overstepping bounds he will pull you up short. It is to be understood that both you and your grandmother must obey this doctor’s orders.”
So was Joanne launched, her grandfather her aid and abettor in many of the activities heretofore denied her. She passed her Tenderfoot tests successfully and started out enthusiastically to acquire the knowledge necessary to become a Second Class Scout, which rank she intended to lose no time in gaining.
“You’re a perfect sponge,” declared Winnie Merryman, herself a First Class Scout. “I never saw any one soak up information as you do. Here you are forging ahead in every direction like a steam engine.”
Joanne laughed. “Steam engines don’t usually go in every direction; those old army tanks do that. Besides, you see, I knew some of the things already.There are the points of the compass; of course I know those and how to box it, then I know a lot about steamers and tides and things, and what to do in case of fire. Grad taught me those ages ago. Can you ride horseback, Win?”
“A little; at least I can stick on.”
“Then you can ride Chico. Did I tell you that Grad has promised to give him to me for my very own as soon as I have learned to ride? He is such a darling, a little rough mountain pony. The cut of his jib is more like that of a horse than a pony such as you usually see.”
Winnie laughed. “You use so many funny expressions, sailor-like ones.”
“That’s because I belong to the navy,” returned Joanne proudly, at which speech Winnie laughed again.
Joanne chose to ignore the laugh and went on: “If we fall off we won’t fall very far, but I don’t intend to fall off; I mean to stick no matter what. We’ll go out to Cousin Ned’s some day and you can see Chico and Pablo, too. You can go, can’t you?”
“Oh, Jo, I’d just adore to go, but”—she hesitated, “shouldn’t I wait for an invitation from your cousin?”
“Of course not,” returned Joanne positively. “Any of my friends will be entirely welcome. Cousin Ned has no children and he dotes on me, so if I invite you it is the same as if he did. It is such a dear place.You wouldn’t believe anything so wild could be within twenty miles of Washington; great cliffs and forests and rushing rapids in the river.”
“It sounds perfectly entrancing,” declared Winnie.
“There is a farmhouse where the manager lives,” Joanne went on, “but that isn’t where we would stay. Cousin Ned has built the cunningest fishing lodge, sort of like a bungalow; he and some of his friends did most of it themselves, and you never knew anything so clever. It is built of hewn logs with a huge fireplace made of the stones on the place. They just rolled them down from the top of the hill. The chimneys are made of discarded ice cans, the kind they use in factories where they manufacture ice; they sort of telescoped them together for only a makeshift, and found they served so well they have left them just so. The water comes from a never-failing spring half-way up the hill, such clear, sparkling water; it is piped down into the house which is at the foot of the hill on the border of the canal with the river beyond. Cousin Ned has a canoe and a motor-boat. Sometimes we go part way in his car and the rest of the way in the motor-boat; I like that way best.”
“Do you go up often?” asked Winnie, much interested.
“Well, I’ve been up only twice,” said Joanne truthfully, “and once we went in the motor-boat part of the way.”
Winnie laughed for Joanne had spoken as if hervisits were of great frequency. “Could our troop hike up there?” she asked.
“It would be a pretty long hike,” replied Joanne doubtfully, “but we might take a train to the nearest railway station and walk from there. It would be about nine or ten miles and up a lot of hills.”
Winifred considered this, then presently she broke out with: “I have an idea! I tell you what I think would be perfectly great: we could go up on a canal boat and it would be such fun to go through the locks.”
“Wouldn’t it?” returned Joanne enthusiastically. “I have always been crazy to go through those locks. Cousin Ned took me over to the one nearest his place and showed me how they worked. It would take a pretty long time to get up there, I suppose, but we wouldn’t mind that. I’ll find out from Cousin Ned if it would be possible, and let you know. I don’t suppose it would be best to say anything to the other girls till we know whether or not it can be done.”
“No, I suppose not,” agreed Winnie, “but I hope you can find out soon so we won’t have to burden our minds with a secret any longer than necessary.”
“I’ll find out the very first chance I get,” promised Joanne earnestly, and remembering that Joanne was not one to let the grass grow under her feet, Winnie was satisfied that she would push the matter.
An opportunity to question Mr. Pattison and also to make her first attempt to ride Chico was vouchsafed Joanne no later than the next Friday when Cousin Nedappeared to bear her off with her grandfather for a week end in the country.
“Wild flowers are out, fish biting,” announced Cousin Ned. “Now’s your chance. If you want to take advantage of this fine weather while it lasts, you’d better come up. Aunt Alice, you’ll come, won’t you please?”
Mrs. Selden raised a hand in protest. “Oh, Ned, dear, it is very kind of you to want me, but I am not fond of roughing it, and from what I hear I am afraid I shouldn’t enjoy it. Then, too, one is so liable to take cold this time of year in making sudden changes.”
Mr. Pattison nodded understandingly. He had scarcely expected his invitation to be accepted. “You’ll come, won’t you?” he turned to his uncle, “and Jo, of course.”
“Do you think it would be wise to take Joanne?” inquired Mrs. Selden. “Of course it is just as you say, Gregory, but if she should take cold——”
“She won’t,” Dr. Selden interrupted. “Let her take plenty of warm things and her rubbers. I’ll carry along a medicine case, if you say so, and I’ll be there to doctor her if she sneezes.”
Joanne looked at Cousin Ned and hid a little chuckle as he drew down his mouth and gave a sly wink.
So, after receiving many charges not to get her feet wet, not to sit up late, not to get tired, not to eat anything which might disagree with her, Joanne set off with her grandfather and cousin to spin through thewide streets, across a bridge to old Georgetown and then up the river road where lovely vistas of the blue Potomac and the Virginia hills beyond met her eyes when she looked that way. It was a good road most of the distance until they turned off into a private way. At the gate leading to this Joanne spied two figures.
“Look, look!” she cried, “there are Pablo and old Unc’ Aaron. They are watching for us.”
Sure enough, as soon as he saw them coming, Pablo sprang to open the gate, smiling and showing his white teeth as they passed through, while old Aaron took off his nondescript hat and bowed to the ground. “Howdy, Pablo! Howdy, Unc’ Aaron,” cried Joanne standing up and waving to the two.
But the pair were soon left behind and the car sped on to draw up presently outside a little rustic fence beyond which was the bungalow. Joanne was the first to hop out, stumbling over her grandfather’s feet in her eagerness to reach the ground. Once there she danced about in sheer delight, treading the new, up-springing grass beneath her feet, exclaiming, questioning, and finally hugging her cousin as he came forward. “Oh, isn’t it the dearest spot?” she cried. “Look at that shining river! Listen to the rapids! Oh, there is a bird! Where are the wild violets? Oh, there’s a canal boat. Are we going to eat here or up at the farmhouse?”
“For an animated visitor commend me to Joanne,” said her cousin, going up the steps to open the door.“Which would you rather do, Jo, have a picnic supper here or go to Mrs. Clover’s?”
Joanne considered this for a moment, hesitating between the prospect of Mrs. Clover’s abundant table heaped with products of the farm, and the simpler fare the picnic supper suggested. “I tell you what I think would be best,” she finally decided, “to have our breakfast and supper here and our dinner at Mrs. Clover’s.”
“Wise old owl,” declared Cousin Ned. “I’ll look over the larder and see what we can have.”
Joanne followed him to the kitchen where he opened a cupboard and looked over the contents. “Let me see,” he said; “here’s a lot of canned stuff and groceries. I tell you what, Jo, I think we’d better have ham and eggs with some griddle cakes. Unc’ Aaron is a jim dandy at baking griddle cakes.”
“But that isn’t picnicking,” said Joanne.
“No more is it, but it is the kind of picnicking we generally have up here, for I’ll have you to know that nobody is a better cook than old Aaron. How does the bill of fare strike you?”
“I think it is great,” replied Joanne, “and I am so hungry I could eat it raw.”
“Good! I’ll tell Aaron to give us a double supply. Here he comes now and Pablo with him. That boy is Unc’ Aaron’s shadow. They have taken the greatest shine to each other, and Pablo is beginning to talk the darkiest English you ever heard.”
Unc’ Aaron came in bowing and scraping. “I jes’ thought I’d ruminate around and require of yuh what was yo desires, Mistah Ned,” he began.
“My desires are for some ham and eggs, some cream and milk and butter. We’d better send Pablo up to the house for them while you whirl in and make the fire here. We’re nearly starved and we are counting on you to get supper for us, some of those famous griddle cakes of yours, and see that you are not stingy with them.”
“Yass suh, yass suh, I gits yuh-alls up a fine suppah, an’ does it puromptily, yass suh, I speeds aroun’ an’ represents dat suppah in de shake or two of a sheep’s tail.”
“All right. Go on with your representing while I light a fire in the dining-room.”
“Oh, can’t I go with Pablo to get the eggs and things?” begged Joanne, “and, oh, I do so want just to glimpse Chico.”
“Go along, then, and ask Mrs. Clover if she hasn’t some jam or some sort of sweet thing she can let us have. She’ll talk you to death if you let her, so if you want to see Chico you’ll have to head her off and hurry back.”
Pablo, who had already received his instructions from Unc’ Aaron, was starting off to the farmhouse. Joanne hurried after him. “I’m going too, Pablo,” she called.
Pablo waited and they went up the hill together.“Do you like it here?” inquired Joanne, who had no idea of keeping silence.
“I like ver’ mooch,” replied the boy.
“Tell me about Chico. He is well?”
“He is bust weeth the health,” returned Pablo gravely.
Joanne turned her face toward the river in order to hide the broad smile which this speech produced. Then she said, still striving to hide the smile, “You are learning English very quickly, aren’t you?”
“I think,” returned Pablo complacently.
They hurried through their errand as rapidly as the voluble Mrs. Clover would allow, and went back bearing, not only the butter, eggs, milk and cream, but a loaf of fresh sponge cake, a comb of honey and a jar of preserved cherries. They deposited these things on the kitchen table where Unc’ Aaron was slicing the ham, already on hand, and then they went off to the stable to see Chico eating his supper and looking as sleek as needs be.
They were not allowed a very long visit to him, however, for very soon they heard a bugle call, and looking back saw Cousin Ned standing on the porch sounding the summons to supper, and down the hill they went at as rapid a gait as stones and brambles would permit.
“These are the finest griddle cakes I ever ate,” declared Dr. Selden as he helped himself to his third supply.
“I mean to ask Unc’ Aaron to teach me to makethem,” said Joanne. “It will be a fine thing for me to do when I go out camping with my Girl Scout troop.”
“And I suppose your poor old grandfather will never have a chance to test your powers,” remarked Dr. Selden in pretended dejection.
“Oh yes, I will try them on you first,” returned Joanne airily, which brought a laugh from her grandfather.
She lost no time in interviewing Unc’ Aaron in order to get his recipe, but she gave up getting a written form, for all he could tell her was that he “jes’ beat up some aigs, den I sloshes in some buttermilk ef I has it, er some milk ef I hasn’t, an’ stirs in de flour.”
“But how much?” questioned Joanne, bewildered at this very casual way of making cakes.
“Well, honey, dat ’pends upon how many dey is to cook fo’,” was the answer, and this was all the satisfaction she could get, so for the present she gave up the idea of emulating Unc’ Aaron in the preparation of griddle cakes.