"'Here's to Molly Brown, drink her down!Here's to dear old Queen's, drink her down.'"
"'Here's to Molly Brown, drink her down!Here's to dear old Queen's, drink her down.'"
Through the din of singing and cheering, there came a loud knocking at the door and a voice cried:
"Open in the name of the law!"
Then the door was thrust open and Sallie Marks marched in flourishing a hot-water bag in one hand and a thermos bottle in the other.
"Well," she exclaimed, "you're the most cheerful lot of refugees I ever saw. I came down expecting to find eight frozen corpses stretched on the shining strand, and here you are singing hilarious songs and yelling like a lot of Comanche Indians."
"What are you bringing us, Sallie?" demanded Judy.
"I'm bringing you myself," said Sallie. "I've arranged to come down here. They shelved me with a lot of freshies at Martin's and I said I'd rather be at O'Reilly's with the Old Guard. So Mr. Murphy brought me down with two sheet-loads of my things and some beds from the hospital, and here I am."
"Hurrah!" they cried again, joining hands and dancing in a circle around Sallie.
"'Here's to good old Sallie, drink her down,Drink her down, drink her down, drink her down!'"
"'Here's to good old Sallie, drink her down,Drink her down, drink her down, drink her down!'"
After this wild outburst of joy over the return of another wanderer to the fold, Sallie began to remove her outer wrappings.
"I feel like an Egyptian mummy," she remarked as she skinned off two long coats and unwound several scarfs.
"You look like a pouter pigeon," said Judy, "what have you got stuffed in there?"
"Mail," said Sallie, unbuttoning anotherjacket, "mail for Queen's. Mr. Murphy gave it to me when he came to get my things. And, by the way," she added, "I saved my rocking chair and sat in it as I drove down to the village. Wasn't it beautiful? I suppose I'll be lampooned now as 'Sallie, the emigrant.' But it was too cold to care much. I was only thankful I had taken the precaution to fill the hot-water bag and the thermos bottle before I started on the drive."
Sallie Marks had, indeed, received a royal welcome from her friends. They were as glad to see her as if she had just returned from a long voyage. Now they poked the fire and made fresh tea and petted and caressed her until her pale, near-sighted eyes were quite watery and she was obliged to wipe the moisture from her glasses.
"We'll make out the winter here, girls," she assured them. "It may take a week to get the house in order, but we can put up with a little discomfort to have O'Reilly's to ourselves. If they would only strip off this bilious paper and lay a few mattings! The plumbing is better than it was at Queen's, and the heating arrangements, too."
The room was really very comfortable whatwith the fire in the grate and the heat pouring up the register.
"It was a defective flue that made old Queen's go under," observed Katherine sadly, as if she were speaking of a dear friend who had lately passed into another life. "I am afraid her heating apparatus was a little second class."
"Speak no evil of the dead," admonished her sister Edith.
"Requiescat in pace," said Sallie in a solemn voice.
"La reine est morte; vive la reine," said Margaret.
"After all, we are really 'Queen's'" said Judy, "so let's be as happy as we can. Where are those letters, Sallie?"
Sallie unbuttoned the last layer of sweater and drew out a pile of mail which she distributed, calling the name of each girl.
"Molly Brown," she called, handing Molly a letter from Kentucky.
"Miss Sen, a letter from the Land of the Rising Sun. I hope it will rise warmer there than itset here this evening. Miss Jessie Lynch, a letter addressed in the handwriting of a male. Ahem! Miss Lynch, another letter in the same handwriting of presumably the same male."
Much laughter among those not already absorbed in letters.
"Miss Margaret Wakefield, an official document from the capital of these United States of America. Miss Julia S. Kean, a parental epistle which no doubt contains other things. Miss Molly Brown, who appears to be secretly purchasing a farm."
Sallie handed Molly a long envelope, while the others snatched their letters and turned away. Only Nance had received no mail that day; yet, more than any girl there, she enjoyed corresponding and sent off weekly voluminous letters to her father, her only correspondent except Andy McLean, who was not yet considered strong enough to write letters.
It was with something very near to envy that she watched the faces of her friends as theywaded through long family letters with an occasional laugh or comment:
"It's been ten below at home."
"Father forgot to put in my check. He's getting very thoughtless."
"My wandering parents are going to Florida. They can't stand the cold in New York."
"Here's a state of things," exclaimed Edith, "another book bill for books that were burned. Isn't that the limit?"
"Yes, and you'll borrow from me again," said Katherine. "And I shall refuse to lend you another cent. You are getting entirely too crazy about buying books."
Nobody took any notice of this sisterly dialogue which went on continuously and never had any real meaning, because in the end Katherine always paid her sister's debts.
Nance's gaze shifted to Molly, who might have been turned into a graven image, so still was she sitting. She had not opened the letter from home, but the long envelope from the real estate company lay at her feet. In one hand she helda typewritten letter and in the other a long blue slip of paper which, beyond a doubt, was a check. Picking up the envelope, Molly gave a covert glance around the absorbed circle and slipped the check inside. Then she noticed Nance gazing at her curiously. She smiled, and then began to laugh so joyously that everybody stopped reading and regarded her almost anxiously. There was a peculiar ring of excitement in her voice.
"Molly, hasn't something awfully nice happened to you?" asked Nance.
"Why, yes," she answered, "to tell the truth, there has."
"What is it? What is it?" cried the chorus of voices.
Molly hesitated and blushed, and laughed again.
"I don't think you would believe it if I were to tell you," she said. "It's too absurd. I can hardly believe it myself, even after reading the letter and seeing the—the——"
"The what, Molly?" demanded Judy, beside herself with curiosity.
Molly laughed again.
"I'm so happy," she cried. "It's made me warm all over. The temperature has risen ten degrees."
"Molly Brown, will you explain yourself? Can't you see we are palpitating to know what it is?" cried Judy.
"I've won a prize," exclaimed Molly. "I've won a prize. Can't you see what it means to me? I needed the money and it came. A perfect windfall. Oh, isn't this world a delightful place? I don't mind the cold weather and O'Reilly's. I'm so happy. I prayed for rain and carried my umbrella. Oh, I'm so happy, happy, happy!"
"Has the child gone daffy?" said Sallie Marks, while Judy seized the envelope and drew out a check for two hundred dollars made out in the name of "Mary C. W. Brown." Then she opened the letter and read aloud:
"'Dear Madam:It gives us much pleasure to inform you that among several hundred contestants you have won the prize of $200, offered by this company for thebest advertisement in prose or verse for one of our mountain chalets. Your poem will occupy the first page in an elaborate booklet now under way and we hope will attract many customers. We offer you our congratulations and good wishes for other literary successes and enclose the check herewith.Very cordially yours, etc., etc.'"
"'Dear Madam:
It gives us much pleasure to inform you that among several hundred contestants you have won the prize of $200, offered by this company for thebest advertisement in prose or verse for one of our mountain chalets. Your poem will occupy the first page in an elaborate booklet now under way and we hope will attract many customers. We offer you our congratulations and good wishes for other literary successes and enclose the check herewith.
Very cordially yours, etc., etc.'"
"Am I sleeping or waking?" cried Molly. "This, at the end of this awful day! Isn't it wonderful?"
The reunited friends made so much noise over this triumph of their favorite that Mrs. Markham, superintending the setting up of beds and arranging of rooms with Mrs. O'Reilly, smilingly observed:
"Dear me, they don't seem to take their misfortune much to heart, do they?"
"They're that glad to get in out of the cold, ma'am, and warm themselves with some tea. It's thawed them out, I expect, the poor young things. They was half froze when they come an hour ago."
"But where's the poem, Molly," cried Judy,when the racket had subsided. "We must see the poem."
"It's locked in my trunk."
"Get it out, get it out," they ordered, and she had no peace until she unlocked the trunk and, rummaging in her portfolio, found the original manuscript of "The Chalet of the West Wind."
"I can't see why it won the prize," she said. "I hadn't even the shadow of a hope when I sent it. It's not a bit like an ad."
"It was certainly what they wanted," said Sallie. "They didn't have to give you the prize, seeing that they had several hundred to choose from. But read it, because I'm in a fever of curiosity to hear it."
In the meantime, Judy had lit the gas, and taking Molly by the shoulders, pushed her into a chair under the light.
"I'm most awfully embarrassed," announced Molly, "but here goes," and she read the following verses:
The Chalet of the West Wind.
"Wind of the West, Wind of the West,Breathe on my little chalet.Blow over summer fields,Bring all their perfume yields,Lily and clover and hay."Bring all the joys of spring,Soft-kissing zephyrs bring,Peace of the mountains and hills,Waken the columbine,Stir the sweet breath of pine,Hasten the late daffodils."Gentle Wind from the Isles of the Blest,Breathe on my little chalet,Fill it with music and laughter and rest;Fill it with love and with dreams that are best;Breathe on it softly, sweet Wind of the West,Breathe on my little chalet."
"Wind of the West, Wind of the West,Breathe on my little chalet.Blow over summer fields,Bring all their perfume yields,Lily and clover and hay."Bring all the joys of spring,Soft-kissing zephyrs bring,Peace of the mountains and hills,Waken the columbine,Stir the sweet breath of pine,Hasten the late daffodils."Gentle Wind from the Isles of the Blest,Breathe on my little chalet,Fill it with music and laughter and rest;Fill it with love and with dreams that are best;Breathe on it softly, sweet Wind of the West,Breathe on my little chalet."
"Wind of the West, Wind of the West,Breathe on my little chalet.Blow over summer fields,Bring all their perfume yields,Lily and clover and hay.
"Bring all the joys of spring,Soft-kissing zephyrs bring,Peace of the mountains and hills,Waken the columbine,Stir the sweet breath of pine,Hasten the late daffodils.
"Gentle Wind from the Isles of the Blest,Breathe on my little chalet,Fill it with music and laughter and rest;Fill it with love and with dreams that are best;Breathe on it softly, sweet Wind of the West,Breathe on my little chalet."
There was certainly nothing very remarkable about the little song, and yet it had caught theeye of the real estate men as having a certain quality which would attract people to that sunny mountainside whereon were perched the quaint Swiss chalets they desired to sell. There was a subtle suggestion to the buyer that he might find rest and happiness in this peaceful home. The piney air, the flowers and the sunshine had all been poetically but quite truthfully described. With a picture of the "Chalet of the West Wind" on the opposite page, people of discerning tastes, looking for summer homes, would surely be attracted.
"How ever did you happen to write it, Molly?" they asked her after re-reading the poem and admiring it with friendly loyalty. "Have you ever been to the mountains?"
"No," she answered, "I actually never have. But something in me that wasn't me wrote the verses. They just seemed to come, first the meter and then, gradually, the lines. I can't explain it. I had some bad news and was afraid I would have to leave college and then the poem came. That was all. Two hundred dollars," she added,looking at the check. "It seems too good to be true. What must I do with it?"
"Put it in the Wellington Bank to-morrow morning," answered Margaret promptly.
Between them, Mrs. Markham and Mrs. O'Reilly prepared a very good dinner for the girls that night, and instead of being a funeral feast it was changed into a jolly banquet. The old Queen's dinner table was restored and there was as much gay, humorous conversation as there ever had been in the brown shingled house now reduced to a heap of ashes.
Paperhangers and painters did go into the new college house on the following Monday morning and in less than ten days the dingy rooms were transformed by white woodwork and light paper. If the Queen's girls felt a little out of it at first, not being on the campus, they were too proud to admit it, and nobody ever heard a complaint from them. They had a great many visitors at O'Reilly's. Crowds of their friends came down to drink tea or spend the evening.The President herself called one morning and had a look at the place.
In the meantime Molly had called at Miss Walker's office and informed her that she had come into a little money unexpectedly and, with the money she was earning, she would be able to pay her own board at O'Reilly's for the rest of the winter. It was only by chance that Miss Walker learned how Molly had earned this sum of money.
"Think of the child's modesty in keeping the secret from me," she said to Miss Pomeroy. "Have you seen the poem that won the prize, by the way?"
"Why, yes," answered that critical individual. "It's a sweet little thing and I suppose struck the exact note they wanted, but I assure you it's nothing wonderful."
"Who would have thought this place could ever blossom like the rose," exclaimed Margaret Wakefield, settling comfortably in a long steamer chair and looking about her with an expression of extreme contentment.
"It's the early summer that did it," remarked Judy Kean. "It came to console us after that brutal winter."
"It's Mrs. O'Reilly's labors chiefly," put in Katherine Williams. "She told me that this garden had been the comfort of her life."
"It's the comfort of mine," said Margaret lazily. "Watching you girls there hoeing and raking and pulling up weeds reminds me of a scene from the opera of 'The Juggler of Notre Dame,'—the monks in the cloister working among their flowers."
Molly paused in her operation of the lawn mower.
"It is a peaceful occupation," she said. "It's the nicest thing that ever happened to us, this garden, because it was such a surprise. I never suspected it was anything but a desert until one day I looked down and saw Mrs. O'Reilly digging up the earth around some little green points sticking out of the ground, and then it only seemed a few days before the points were daffodils and everything had burst into bloom at once. This apple tree was like a bride's bouquet."
"That's stretching your imagination a bit," interrupted Judy, reclining at full length on a steamer rug on the ground. "Think of the gigantic bride who could carry an apple tree for a bouquet."
"Get up from there and go to work," cried Molly, poking her friend in the side with her foot. "Here's company coming this afternoon, and you at your ease on the ground!"
"I don't notice that Margaret W. is bestirring herself," answered Judy.
"A President never should work," answered Molly. "It's her office to look on and direct."
Judy pulled herself lazily from the ground.
"I'll be official lemon squeezer, then," she said. "I will not weed; I refuse to cut grass, or to pick up sticks with the Williamses. You look like a pair of peasant fagot gatherers," she called to the two sisters who were clearing away a small pile of brush gathered by the industrious hands of Mrs. O'Reilly.
"And what do you think you are? A bloomin' aristocrat?" demanded Edith.
"If I am," answered Judy, "my noblesse has obleeged me to squeeze lemons for the party. It's a lowly job, but I'd rather do it than pick up sticks."
"Anything like work is lowly to you, Miss Judy," said Katherine.
Summer had really come on the heels of spring with such breathless haste that before they knew it they were plunged into warm weather. And nobody rejoiced more than Molly over the passing of the long cold winter. When at last thesun's rays broke through the crust of the frost-bound earth and wakened the sleeping things underneath, it had seemed to the young girl that her cup of happiness was overflowing. Not even to Judy and Nance could she explain how much she loved the spring. One day, seizing a trowel from some tools on the porch, she rushed into the garden and began digging in the flower beds.
"You don't mind, do you, Mrs. O'Reilly?" she apologized. "I'm so glad spring is here at last that I've got to take it out in something besides book-learning."
"I'm only too happy, Miss," said the widow. "Young ladies ain't often so fond of the smell of the earth."
It was Molly who had introduced the cult of the garden to the other girls, and it was she who had first induced Mrs. O'Reilly to resurrect some garden seats from the cellar and a rustic table. Even as early as the first of May they had tea under the apple trees, and as the days grew warmer their friends found them reading and studying in the sunny enclosure.
They had no idea of the charming picture they made grouped about in their garden; nor did they dream that Mrs. O'Reilly had occasionally allowed a visitor or two to peer at them through a crack in the dining room shutters. Mrs. McLean and Professor Green were two such privileged characters one afternoon when they called at O'Reilly's to leave notes of acceptance to a tea to which they had been invited by the old Queen's circle. The invitations in themselves were rather unusual. They were little water-color sketches done by Judy and Otoyo on oblong cards. Each sketch showed a bit of the garden, and the invitations stated that on the afternoon of June second there would be tea in the Garden of O'Reilly's.
"Where is this garden, Mrs. O'Reilly?" Mrs. McLean had demanded, and the Irish woman, beckoning mysteriously, had shown them the scene through the crack in the shutter.
"Why, bless the bairns," exclaimed Mrs. McLean, gazing through the opening, while Professor Green impatiently awaited his turn. "Theymight be a lot of wood nymphs disporting themselves under the trees."
Then the Professor had looked and had discovered Molly Brown, in her usual blue linen—which was probably only an imitation linen—raking grass. Judy was softly twanging her guitar. Nance on her knees beside a bed of lilies was digging in the earth, and the others were variously engaged while Edith read aloud.
The Professor looked long at the charming scene and then observed:
"It is a pretty picture. Wherever these girls go they create an atmosphere."
But he was thinking of only one girl.
Someone else had called at O'Reilly's privately and asked to see the garden.
It was Judith Blount who stood like a dark shadow against the window and peered through the crack in the green shutter. She had come on the pretext of looking at rooms for next year, but after watching the scene in the garden had hurried away.
"And I might have been with them now," shethought bitterly, "if it hadn't been for my vile temper that Christmas Eve."
Judith had learned a good many hard lessons during the winter. She had found out that friends in prosperity are not always friends in adversity. Her old-time rich associates at the Beta Phi House had paid her one or two perfunctory calls in the room over the post-office, but the days of her leadership were over forever. Mary Stewart came often to see her and Jenny Wren was faithful, but there was great bitterness in Judith's heart and she chose frequently to hang a "Busy" sign on her door so that she might brood over her troubles alone. She grew very sallow and thin, and sat up late at night reading, there being no ten o'clock rules at the post-office. Many times Madeleine Petit, her neighbor, was wakened by the fragrant aroma of coffee floating down the hall into her little bedroom.
"If she was my daughter," Madeleine observed to Molly one day, "I'd first put her through a course of broken doses of calomel, and then I'dput her to work on something besides lessons. Even laundry is good to keep people from brooding. If I stopped to think about all my troubles and all that is before me in the way of work and struggles to get on," she rattled along, "I wouldn't have time to study, much less do up jabots and things. But I just trust to luck and go ahead. I find it comes out all right. Mighty few people seem to understand that it makes a thing much bigger to think and think about it. I'd rather enlarge something more worth while than my misfortunes."
Molly smiled over Madeleine's philosophy.
"I mean to make friends with her next year," went on Madeleine. "She was rude to me once, but I am sorry for her because we are both going through the same struggle and I think I can give her some ideas. You may not believe me, but I always succeed in doing the thing I set out to do. College was as far off from me two years ago as Judith seems to be now——"
"It will be a fine thing for Judith if she gains a friend like you, Madeleine," interrupted Mollywarmly. "See if you can't start it by bringing her to our garden party with you next Saturday."
Molly delivered the invitations with which she had called, and giving Madeleine a friendly kiss, she hastened on her way.
But Madeleine's words were prophetic, as we shall show you in the story of "Molly Brown's Junior Days." Judith Blount was to learn much from this energetic little person and to listen with the patience of a tried friend to her stream of conversation.
Molly felt very much like embracing all her friends that day and kissing both hands to the entire world besides. A letter had come from her mother which settled the one great question in Molly's mind just then: Should she be able to return to college for her junior year and share with Judy and Nance a little three-roomed apartment in the Quadrangle near their other friends, who were all engaging rooms in that same corridor? And that very morning all doubt hadbeen dispelled. Her mother had written her the wonderful news:
"The stockholders of the Square Deal Mine will get back their money, after all. It seems that Mrs. Blount had some property which she was induced to hand over. I am sorry that they should be impoverished, but it seems just, nevertheless. It will be some time before matters are arranged, however. In the meantime, I have had the most extraordinary piece of luck in connection with the two acres of orchard on which I borrowed the money for your college expenses. I have just sold it for a splendid amount—enough to cover all debts on the land, including the one to the President of Wellington University, and to furnish your tuition and board for the next two years. Scarcely anything in all my life has pleased me more than this. I don't even know the name of the buyer. The land was purchased through an agent. But whoever the person was, he must have been charmed with our old orchard. It is a pretty bit of property. Your father usedto call it 'his lucky two acres,' because it always yielded a little income."
Therefore, it was with a light heart that Molly delivered invitations that afternoon to the garden party at O'Reilly's.
She had intended to shove an envelope under the door of Professor Green's office in the cloisters and hurry on, not wishing to disturb that busy and important personage, but he had opened the door himself while she was in the very act of slipping the invitation through the crack between the door and the sill.
"Oh," she exclaimed, blushing with embarrassment. "Please excuse me. I only wanted to give you this. We hope you'll come. We shall feel it a great honor if you will accept."
"I accept without even knowing what it is, if that's the way you feel," replied the Professor, smiling. "I would go to a fudge party or a picnic or anything in the nature of an entertainment, if I felt—er—that is——" the Professor was getting decidedly mixed, and Molly saw with surprisethat he was blushing. "That is, if the fire refugees wished it so much," he finished.
"You look a little tired, Professor," she remarked, noticing for the first time that he was hollow-eyed and his face was thin and worn, as if he had been working at night.
"My pallor is due entirely to disappointment," he answered laughing, "our little opera passed into oblivion the other night. Perhaps you would have brought it better luck if you had been with us."
"I would have clapped and cheered the loudest of all," exclaimed Molly. "But I'm so sorry. I am sure it must have been splendid. What was the reason?"
"It was just one of those unfortunate infants destined to die young," said the Professor. "I thought it was quite a neat little thing, myself, but Richard believes that the plot had too much story and it was a little—well—too refined, if I may put it that way. It needed more buffoonery of a lighter vein. It was a joke, my writing it in the first place. However, I haven't lost anythingbut time over it, and I've gained a good deal of experience."
"I am so sorry," exclaimed Molly with real sympathy, giving him her hand. "It seems rather tactless," she said starting to leave and turning back, "to tell you about our good luck just now, but of course you knew about the Square Deal. Mine, anyway."
"Oh, yes," he answered. "They are going to pay off all the creditors. An old cousin of Mrs. Blount's in Switzerland died the other day without leaving a will, and she inherits his property. It's pretty hard on her to give it up just now when she needs it dreadfully, but Richard has induced her to do it and I suppose it is right. It will take a year at least to straighten out the affair though. There is so much red tape about American heirs getting European property."
"Then,I'vehad some luck, too," said Molly, making an effort to keep the Professor from seeing how really joyously happy she was. "Some perfectly delightful and charming person has bought my two acres of apple orchard at last,and I shall not be down at O'Reilly's next winter. I'm going to be in the Quadrangle with the others. Isn't it wonderful?"
The Professor looked at her with his quizzical brown eyes; then he shook hands with her again.
"Does it really make you very happy?" he asked.
"Oh, you can't think!" she cried. "You can never know how relieved and happy I am. I've been walking on air all day. I shall always feel that the man who bought that orchard did it just for me, although of course he has never heard of me. Some day I am going to thank him, myself."
"You are?" he asked, "and how will you thank him?"
"Why," she replied, "why, I think I'll just give him a hug. I have a feeling that he's an old gentleman."
The Professor sat down in his chair very suddenly and began to laugh, and he was still laughing when Molly sped down the corridor to the door into the court. She did not see him againuntil the day of the farewell tea in the garden of O'Reilly's.
* * * And it is in the garden that we will leave our girls now, at the close of their sophomore year.
They look very charming in their long white dresses, dispensing tea and lemonade and sandwiches to the small company of guests. It is the last time we shall see the old Queen's circle as a separate group. O'Reilly's had filled the need of the moment, but the friends agreed that nothing could ever take the place of Queen's unless it were the long-coveted quarters in the dormitories behind the twin gray towers of Wellington.
There we shall find them during "Molly Brown's Junior Days," living broader and less secluded lives in the fine old Quadrangle which had always been the center of interest and influence at Wellington College and now promised to add a unique chapter to her history.
SAVE THE WRAPPER!IFyou have enjoyed reading about the adventures of the new friends you have made in this book and would like to read more clean, wholesome stories of their entertaining experiences, turn to the book jacket—on the inside of it, a comprehensive list of Burt's fine series of carefully selected books for young people has been placed for your convenience.Orders for these books, placed with your bookstore or sent to the Publishers, will receive prompt attention.
IFyou have enjoyed reading about the adventures of the new friends you have made in this book and would like to read more clean, wholesome stories of their entertaining experiences, turn to the book jacket—on the inside of it, a comprehensive list of Burt's fine series of carefully selected books for young people has been placed for your convenience.
Orders for these books, placed with your bookstore or sent to the Publishers, will receive prompt attention.
THEAnn Sterling SeriesBy HARRIET PYNE GROVEStories of Ranch and College Life For Girls 12 to 16 YearsHandsome Cloth Binding with Attractive Jackets in ColorANN STERLINGThe strange gift of Old Never-Run, an Indian whom she has befriended, brings exciting events into Ann's life.THE COURAGE OF ANNAnn makes many new, worthwhile friends during her first year at Forest Hill College.ANN AND THE JOLLY SIXAt the close of their Freshman year Ann and the Jolly Six enjoy a house party at the Sterling's mountain ranch.ANN CROSSES A SECRET TRAILThe Sterling family, with a group of friends, spend a thrilling vacation under the southern Pines of Florida.ANN'S SEARCH REWARDEDIn solving the disappearance of her father, Ann finds exciting adventures, Indians and bandits in the West.ANN'S AMBITIONSThe end of her Senior year at Forest Hill brings a whirl of new events into the career of "Ann of the Singing Fingers."ANN'S STERLING HEARTAnn returns home, after completing a busy year of musical study abroad.A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers,114-120 EAST 23rd STREETNEW YORK
THEAnn Sterling SeriesBy HARRIET PYNE GROVE
Stories of Ranch and College Life For Girls 12 to 16 Years
Handsome Cloth Binding with Attractive Jackets in Color
ANN STERLING
The strange gift of Old Never-Run, an Indian whom she has befriended, brings exciting events into Ann's life.
THE COURAGE OF ANN
Ann makes many new, worthwhile friends during her first year at Forest Hill College.
ANN AND THE JOLLY SIX
At the close of their Freshman year Ann and the Jolly Six enjoy a house party at the Sterling's mountain ranch.
ANN CROSSES A SECRET TRAIL
The Sterling family, with a group of friends, spend a thrilling vacation under the southern Pines of Florida.
ANN'S SEARCH REWARDED
In solving the disappearance of her father, Ann finds exciting adventures, Indians and bandits in the West.
ANN'S AMBITIONS
The end of her Senior year at Forest Hill brings a whirl of new events into the career of "Ann of the Singing Fingers."
ANN'S STERLING HEART
Ann returns home, after completing a busy year of musical study abroad.
A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers,
114-120 EAST 23rd STREETNEW YORK
Books for GirlsBy GRACE MAY NORTHAuthor ofTHE VIRGINIA DAVIS SERIESAll Clothbound. Copyright Titles.With Individual Jackets in ColorsMEG OF MYSTERY MOUNTAINThis story tells of the summer vacation some young people spent in the mountains and how they cleared up the mystery of the lost cabin at Crazy Creek Mine.RILLA OF THE LIGHTHOUSE"Rilla" had lived all her life with only her grandfather and "Uncle Barney" as companions, but finally, at High Cliff Seminary, her great test came and the lovable girl from Windy Island Lighthouse met it brilliantly.NAN OF THE GYPSIESIn this tale of a wandering gypsy band, Nan, who has spent her childhood with the gypsies, is adopted by a woman of wealth, and by her love and loyalty to her, she proves her fine character and true worth.SISTERSThe personal characteristics and incidents in the lives of two girls—one thoughtless and proud, the other devoted and self-sacrificing—are vividly described in this story, told as it is with sympathy and understanding for both.A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers,114-120 EAST 23rd STREETNEW YORK
Books for GirlsBy GRACE MAY NORTH
Author ofTHE VIRGINIA DAVIS SERIES
All Clothbound. Copyright Titles.
With Individual Jackets in Colors
MEG OF MYSTERY MOUNTAIN
This story tells of the summer vacation some young people spent in the mountains and how they cleared up the mystery of the lost cabin at Crazy Creek Mine.
RILLA OF THE LIGHTHOUSE
"Rilla" had lived all her life with only her grandfather and "Uncle Barney" as companions, but finally, at High Cliff Seminary, her great test came and the lovable girl from Windy Island Lighthouse met it brilliantly.
NAN OF THE GYPSIES
In this tale of a wandering gypsy band, Nan, who has spent her childhood with the gypsies, is adopted by a woman of wealth, and by her love and loyalty to her, she proves her fine character and true worth.
SISTERS
The personal characteristics and incidents in the lives of two girls—one thoughtless and proud, the other devoted and self-sacrificing—are vividly described in this story, told as it is with sympathy and understanding for both.
A. L. BURT COMPANY, Publishers,
114-120 EAST 23rd STREETNEW YORK
The Camp Fire Girls SeriesBy HILDEGARD G. FREYA Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years.All Cloth Bound Copyright TitlesPRICE 50 CENTS EACHPostage 10c. Extra.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads the Way.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open Door.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House.THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles.For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the PublishersA. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
The Camp Fire Girls SeriesBy HILDEGARD G. FREY
A Series of Outdoor Stories for Girls 12 to 16 Years.
All Cloth Bound Copyright Titles
PRICE 50 CENTS EACHPostage 10c. Extra.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE MAINE WOODS; or, The Winnebagos go Camping.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SCHOOL; or, The Wohelo Weavers.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT ONOWAY HOUSE; or, The Magic Garden.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS GO MOTORING; or, Along the Road That Leads the Way.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' LARKS AND PRANKS; or, The House of the Open Door.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON ELLEN'S ISLE; or, The Trail of the Seven Cedars.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ON THE OPEN ROAD; or, Glorify Work.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS DO THEIR BIT; or, Over the Top with the Winnebagos.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS SOLVE A MYSTERY; or, The Christmas Adventure at Carver House.
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT CAMP KEEWAYDIN; or, Down Paddles.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
TheGirl ScoutsSeriesBY EDITH LAVELLA new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.PRICE, 50 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRATHE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLENS SCHOOLTHE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMPTHE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURNTHE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIPTHE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALSTHE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCHTHE GIRL SCOUTS' VACATION ADVENTURESTHE GIRL SCOUTS' MOTOR TRIPTHE GIRL SCOUTS' CAPTAINTHE GIRL SCOUTS' DIRECTORFor sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the PublishersA. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
TheGirl ScoutsSeriesBY EDITH LAVELL
A new copyright series of Girl Scouts stories by an author of wide experience in Scouts' craft, as Director of Girl Scouts of Philadelphia.
Clothbound, with Attractive Color Designs.
PRICE, 50 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRA
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT MISS ALLENS SCHOOL
THE GIRL SCOUTS AT CAMP
THE GIRL SCOUTS' GOOD TURN
THE GIRL SCOUTS' CANOE TRIP
THE GIRL SCOUTS' RIVALS
THE GIRL SCOUTS ON THE RANCH
THE GIRL SCOUTS' VACATION ADVENTURES
THE GIRL SCOUTS' MOTOR TRIP
THE GIRL SCOUTS' CAPTAIN
THE GIRL SCOUTS' DIRECTOR
For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
TheGreycliff GirlsSeriesBy HARRIET PYNE GROVEStories of Adventure, Fun, Study and Personalities of girls attending Greycliff School.For Girls 10 to 15 YearsPRICE, 50 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRACloth bound, with Individual Jackets in Color.CATHALINA AT GREYCLIFFTHE GIRLS OF GREYCLIFFGREYCLIFF WINGSGREYCLIFF GIRLS IN CAMPGREYCLIFF HEROINESGREYCLIFF GIRLS IN GEORGIAGREYCLIFF GIRLS' RANCHINGGREYCLIFF GIRLS' GREAT ADVENTUREFor sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the PublishersA. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
TheGreycliff GirlsSeries
By HARRIET PYNE GROVE
Stories of Adventure, Fun, Study and Personalities of girls attending Greycliff School.
For Girls 10 to 15 Years
PRICE, 50 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRA
Cloth bound, with Individual Jackets in Color.
CATHALINA AT GREYCLIFF
THE GIRLS OF GREYCLIFF
GREYCLIFF WINGS
GREYCLIFF GIRLS IN CAMP
GREYCLIFF HEROINES
GREYCLIFF GIRLS IN GEORGIA
GREYCLIFF GIRLS' RANCHING
GREYCLIFF GIRLS' GREAT ADVENTURE
For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
Marjorie DeanHigh SchoolSeriesBY PAULINE LESTERAuthor of the Famous Marjorie Dean College SeriesThese are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all girls of high school age.All Cloth BoundCopyright TitlesPRICE, 50 CENTS EACHPostage 10c. Extra.MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMANMARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMOREMARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIORMARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIORFor sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the PublishersA. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
Marjorie DeanHigh SchoolSeries
BY PAULINE LESTER
Author of the Famous Marjorie Dean College Series
These are clean, wholesome stories that will be of great interest to all girls of high school age.
All Cloth BoundCopyright Titles
PRICE, 50 CENTS EACH
Postage 10c. Extra.
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL FRESHMAN
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR
MARJORIE DEAN, HIGH SCHOOL SENIOR
For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
THE MERRY LYNNSERIESBy HARRIET PYNE GROVECloth Bound. Jackets in Colors.The charm of school and camp life, out-door sports and European travel is found in these winning tales of Merilyn and her friends at boarding school and college. These realistic stories of the everyday life, the fun, frolic and special adventures of the Beechwood girls will be enjoyed by all girls of high school age.MERILYN ENTERS BEECHWOLDMERILYN AT CAMP MEENAHGAMERILYN TESTS LOYALTYMERILYN'S NEW ADVENTUREMERILYN FORRESTER, CO-ED.THE "MERRY LYNN" MINEA. L. BURT COMPANY,Publishers,114-120 EAST 23rd STREETNEW YORK
THE MERRY LYNNSERIES
By HARRIET PYNE GROVE
Cloth Bound. Jackets in Colors.
The charm of school and camp life, out-door sports and European travel is found in these winning tales of Merilyn and her friends at boarding school and college. These realistic stories of the everyday life, the fun, frolic and special adventures of the Beechwood girls will be enjoyed by all girls of high school age.
MERILYN ENTERS BEECHWOLD
MERILYN AT CAMP MEENAHGA
MERILYN TESTS LOYALTY
MERILYN'S NEW ADVENTURE
MERILYN FORRESTER, CO-ED.
THE "MERRY LYNN" MINE
A. L. BURT COMPANY,Publishers,
114-120 EAST 23rd STREETNEW YORK
TheVirginia DavisSeriesBy GRACE MAY NORTHClean, Wholesome Stories of Ranch Life.For Girls 12 to 16 Years.All Clothbound.With Individual Jackets in Colors.PRICE, 75 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRAVIRGINIA OF V. M. RANCHVIRGINIA AT VINE HAVENVIRGINIA'S ADVENTURE CLUBVIRGINIA'S RANCH NEIGHBORSVIRGINIA'S ROMANCEFor sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the PublishersA. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
TheVirginia DavisSeries
By GRACE MAY NORTH
Clean, Wholesome Stories of Ranch Life.For Girls 12 to 16 Years.All Clothbound.
With Individual Jackets in Colors.
PRICE, 75 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRA
VIRGINIA OF V. M. RANCH
VIRGINIA AT VINE HAVEN
VIRGINIA'S ADVENTURE CLUB
VIRGINIA'S RANCH NEIGHBORS
VIRGINIA'S ROMANCE
For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
PrincessPolly SeriesBy AMY BROOKSAuthor of "Dorothy Dainty" series, Etc. Stories of Sweet-Tempered, Sunny, Lovable Little "Princess Polly."For girls 12 to 16 years.Each Volume Illustrated.Cloth BoundWith Individual Jackets in Colors.PRICE, 75 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRAPRINCESS POLLYPRINCESS POLLY'S PLAYMATESPRINCESS POLLY AT SCHOOLPRINCESS POLLY BY THE SEAPRINCESS POLLY'S GAY WINTERPRINCESS POLLY AT PLAYPRINCESS POLLY AT CLIFFMOREFor sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the PublishersA. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
PrincessPolly Series
By AMY BROOKS
Author of "Dorothy Dainty" series, Etc. Stories of Sweet-Tempered, Sunny, Lovable Little "Princess Polly."
For girls 12 to 16 years.
Each Volume Illustrated.
Cloth Bound
With Individual Jackets in Colors.
PRICE, 75 CENTS EACHPOSTAGE 10c EXTRA
PRINCESS POLLY
PRINCESS POLLY'S PLAYMATES
PRINCESS POLLY AT SCHOOL
PRINCESS POLLY BY THE SEA
PRINCESS POLLY'S GAY WINTER
PRINCESS POLLY AT PLAY
PRINCESS POLLY AT CLIFFMORE
For sale by all booksellers, or sent on receipt of price by the Publishers
A. L. BURT COMPANY, 114-120 E. 23d St., NEW YORK
Transcriber's Note:Spelling, alternative hyphenation, and abbreviations have been retained as they appear in the original publication.Changes have been made to punctuation as follows:Page 262: Removed quotation mark—shed on heraccount."Page 213: Added fullstop—were to shakehands.
Spelling, alternative hyphenation, and abbreviations have been retained as they appear in the original publication.
Changes have been made to punctuation as follows:
Page 262: Removed quotation mark—shed on heraccount."
Page 213: Added fullstop—were to shakehands.