CHAPTER VIBEGINNING THE WINTER WORK
It is needless to say that the moment school was dismissed the following afternoon every boy and girl who was interested in the new Publishing Company, ran toward the carriage house at Mossy Glen. The teachers, pupils, and even some of the members of the Board of Education had heard of the plans made the day before—for in a small community like Oakdale, news travels rapidly—and the men on the school board were as much interested in the success of the children’s work as if it had been their own undertaking.
Ike had found some splendid pine boards, a number of two-by-four joists, plenty of odds and ends of railing, posts, moulding, and other trim that would make a boy delight in amateur carpentry work.
Nails, screws, hammers, saw, and tools of all kinds were provided, so that each boy could work without delaying or inconveniencing the others.Ike and Simon were to superintend the construction and show the boys how to put things together properly.
Uncle Ben and Mr. Talmage, who went to the city early in the morning to attend to the shipping of the machinery, had not yet returned.
The Blue Birds gathered merrily in their Nest in the cherry tree, with several little girls who had been away during the summer and were eager to join the Nest.
Miss Selina insisted upon walking along the path from the house when Mrs. Talmage started for the Nest and, upon arriving at the foot of the steps that led up to the Nest, looked up imploringly.
“Flutey, I believe you can get up here if I help you!” exclaimed Ruth, seeing her aunt’s expression.
“Oh, no, dearie! What about the rheumatism in my ankles?” groaned Miss Selina.
“Leave it behind!” laughed Ruth, gayly hopping down from the Nest.
“I wish I could!” declared Aunt Selina, taking a firm hold on the handrail and trying to lift up her foot.
“Ouch! that hurt my knee-joint!” cried she.
“Flutey! That’s no way to leave that rheumatism behind!” reprimanded Ruth. “Now, make up your mind to walk right up and forget the nasty little pain.”
Mrs. Talmage and the Blue Birds were hovering over the railing of the Nest to advise the two at the foot of the steps. Dot Starr, with her usual bluntness and funny way of expressing herself, called down to Miss Selina:
“Flutey, you just feel those twinges in your joints because you’re spoiled. Mumzie says I am always sicker if I let myself be fussed over and spoiled.Shejust says, ‘Try to forget it.’ Now, if you were me, you never would be down there a second, but you’d jump here two steps at a time. So, I say like Mumzie would, forget you’re not me, and we’ll see you pop up here like magic!”
Aunt Selina felt like rebuking Dot, but the children smiled sympathetically and knew Dot was sincere in her desire to help the old lady, so the invalid replied instead,
“Dot, that is just the trouble! I can’t forgetthe habits of seventy years. I wish I could make-believe I was as young and spry as you are.”
“If you wish, then you can! Remember the story of Sarah Crewe?” cried Ruth, helping Miss Selina to the next step.
“I saw an old lady up in Casco Bay town last summer who was older than you and she never had time to remember her age, because she had to work all day for other folks. She said she slept like a baby every night. Daddum said one reason she looked so young was that she hadn’t time to worry about growing old,” said Dot.
“If I had had to work for others instead of being pampered until I couldn’t do a thing for myself, maybe I would feel as young as anyone,” admitted Aunt Selina.
Meantime, without being conscious of the act, the old lady was being helped up the steps by Ruth, until, at the last words, she reached the top.
“Why, I’m up and never knew it!” she laughed.
“That’s just the way to forget!” cried Dot, clapping her hands.
“And you’ve left your troubles behind as I told you to,” added Ruth.
A chair was placed for Aunt Selina who looked about the Nest with keen interest.
“Mary Talmage, I just wager this was all your idea, wasn’t it?” she commented, as she noted the sides of the Nest covered with straw matting, and the cute wicker table and chairs.
“Yes, Flutey, it was. But listen until we tell you how we found this Nest and the furniture,” said Ruth, and all the Blue Birds chirped in to tell the story about the Nest and how the furniture was found hidden in unexpected places about the lawn and in the shrubbery.
Aunt Selina chuckled, but Mrs. Talmage spoke with some seriousness.
“Blue Birds, time is flying, and we must talk about our magazine.”
Ruth then explained the presence of the children who wished to join the Nest. Mrs. Talmage looked sorry.
“Dearies, I would like to have you with us, but really I cannot take proper charge of more than I have at present. I want to do the work right and that will be impossible with too many in one Nest. But I have a suggestion to offer. Mrs. Catlin is so interested with us in the work that I amsure she will gladly start you in a Nest of your own. She has plenty of time, and a beautiful place, so you will be just as happy there as here. We can all meet when necessary and talk over affairs together. I will write a note to her and explain, then you can take it over.”
“I know Mrs. Catlin! We live on the same street!” exclaimed one of the children.
“I guess we all know Mrs. Catlin, and like her; if we can’t join Ruth’s Nest, I’d like to be in one of Mrs. Catlin’s,” said another little girl.
After bidding them good-by as they ran across the lawn, the Blue Birds settled down to hear the plans for work on the magazine.
“I have some ideas which I would like to present to save time,” said Mrs. Talmage.
“I apportioned a page to each one of you to edit and expect you to have the line of writing that best suits your ability.
“For instance,” continued Mrs. Talmage: “To Dot Starr, who did the cut-out paper furniture so well at the school-house this summer when we made the paper doll houses for the city children, I gave a page called, ‘What Can Be Made of Paper.’
“To Edith, who always makes such good candy, I gave the ‘Candy Kettle.’
“To Betty, who is clever with her pencils, I gave the ‘Drawing Lesson.’
“To Ruth, who loves housekeeping, I gave ‘Household Hints.’
“To Norma, who likes to sew, I gave the ‘Doll’s Wardrobe.’
“To May, who takes such good kodak pictures, I gave the ‘Camera Corner.’
“To Frances, who is an adept at puzzles and games, I gave ‘Puzzledom.’
“There are besides many other pages to edit which I think will have to be done by the boys, and some grown-ups, so I just jotted down the names of the boys that I think are capable of doing it.
“I gave Ned a page for ‘Domestic Animals,’ Meredith Starr can have a page on ‘Wild Animals,’ and Jinks a page on ‘Insects and Reptiles.’
“Then, there will be need for other articles which the other boys can supply, and they can all help with the publishing. I shall write to an old friend who was judge of the Juvenile Court for years, and most likely has very interesting stories to tell. Another well-known writer of children’sbooks lives in Washington, D. C., and I feel quite sure of her interest when I tell her what our plans are. Besides, Uncle Ben knows people who will contribute, as he told us so.”
“Oh, Mrs. Talmage, do you really believe the magazine will be so good that folks will subscribe for it?” questioned Norma.
“Why, of course! Didn’t you hear Uncle Ben say that he would be ashamed to send anything less than a real magazine through the mail?—That we would have to do our work over again if it was poorly done?” said Mrs. Talmage.
“Just think! My name on a magazine page with my cut-out furniture on it!” cried Dot, hugging her sides.
“How many folks will get one, do you suppose?” asked Betty.
“The more the merrier,” laughed Mrs. Talmage.
“Mother Wings, how do people get a list of names where children want a magazine?” asked Ruth.
“Oh, different ways. Uncle Ben may have a list of families where there are children. I know dozens of friends who have children; Mrs. Catlindoes, too. Then, there are the Wells, Stevens, Starrs, and so on: all families who know other families where there are children. Why, friends of mine in England and Germany will take this magazine if I send them a sample copy. And so a list grows when everyone tries to help.”
“If we are only printing this magazine to help along our farms for poor children I don’t see why anyone in Europe would want to take the paper,” said Dot.
“Don’t you be so sure about that, Miss Dot!” said Aunt Selina. “After this organization gets agoing I believe it will make such a stir that its light won’t ‘be hidden under a bushel’ very long. Only keep your magazine at high-water mark, and you will see a marvel before the year is over.”
Aunt Selina’s remark made such an impression on Mrs. Talmage that she suddenly realized how important their venture might turn out to be, providing everyone did their best.
A loud halloo coming from the direction of the carriage house called the Blue Birds’ attention to the open door. Mr. Talmage and Uncle Ben were standing there beckoning for the Blue Birds.
Aunt Selina found she could get down from theNest quite nimbly, and all started toward the building which was to be known in the future as the “Publishing House.”
Inside, about twenty boys were sawing, hammering, and calling to each other while Ike and Simon bossed the work. At one side of the entrance the front corner of the large room had been measured off, and a partition about six feet high erected. This office had a wide window in front, and a closet on the side wall. The partition was of oak-stained ceiling boards that had been taken out of an attic chamber of the Talmage residence when that room had been refinished. The partition had a door to match, and the boys’ work was exceptionally good. Six boys were busy completing the nailing of the partition and two more were so engaged upon hanging the door that the visitors were scarcely noticed.
“Hi, there! Jinks, start that screw, will you?” called Ned, trying to balance the door on his toes while the hinge insisted upon slipping out of the notch that had been made for it.
“I will, if you will stop wriggling the old thing!” replied Jinks, who had pinched his fingerseveral times and had become wary of the unsteady door.
Ike saw the difficulty the boys were having and, while the Blue Birds stood watching the struggle, came over and offered to help them.
“This scene is as good as a vaudeville, Mary,” laughed Uncle Ben. “That’s why I wanted you to see it.”
“Oh, I think they have done wonderfully well,” replied Mrs. Talmage, with interest.
“They have, and Ben is so tickled with the boys’ whole-hearted support of the plan, that he is having the time of his life,” added Mr. Talmage.
The other boys had made a strong bench to sit upon, and a rude table with a board top.
The whole interior of the place was covered with sawdust, shavings, and pieces of timber. Planes and chisels were in constant demand, and hammers, screw-drivers and saws were all making a veritable bedlam of a noise, when Ike called “Time.”
“Too dark to see what you are doing,” he explained.
“Turn on the electric lights, Ike,” said Ned.
“Better not—you boys have done far more than we thought you could and there is no use in ‘driving a willing horse to death,’” advised Mr. Talmage.
As the boys dropped tools and stretched tired arms, or bent backs, they realized that the unusual work had made muscles ache.
“Get on your caps and coats, Bobolinks, and come out on the lawn to hear of my trip to the city,” said Uncle Ben.
In a few moments the room was empty and the children crowded about Uncle Ben who sat cross-legged on the soft grass, while Ike placed chairs for Aunt Selina and Mrs. Talmage.
“Well, to start at the beginning, I took the eight-ten train this morning, and I was introduced to the Oakdale Commuters as ‘Uncle Ben of the Blue Birds and Bobolinks.’ That was reference enough for anyone. I was looked upon as a man to be envied and I even saw covert glances from some jealous eyes that looked me up and down and saw no especial favor to have boosted me in the estimation of the B. B. & B. B. Company.”
“Now, Uncle Ben, stop your fooling and tell us about the trip,” rebuked Ruth.
“I am, Fluff, but I want to begin at the right end of the story,” teased Uncle Ben.
“Oh, begin anywhere, only get somewhere!” cried Mr. Talmage, laughing.
With a sigh that indicated that he was misunderstood, Uncle Ben continued his story.
“Mr. Wells, Mr. Stevens, Mr. Starr, Mr. Wilson, and many other men you know promised to advise and assist the boys in every way possible.”
“What did Daddum say?” cried Dot, eagerly.
“Don’t interrupt, Dot!” admonished Meredith, sternly.
“Well, Mr. Starr offered a series of articles on his experiences in lumber camps, and, besides, he promised to take hold of any part of the plan in which we could use him,” replied Uncle Ben. “Mr. Wells has a book that will prove valuable for our undertaking. It is a directory of benevolent institutions and contains the names and addresses of every asylum or home in the country.”
“Why, Uncle Ben, that is exactly what we need to find our sick children for the farms, isn’t it?” said Ruth, happily.
Uncle Ben nodded his head and continued.
“Then, Mr. Stevens offered to have his solicitorstry to secure some advertising for the magazine. His agency is one of the best in the city and I think his offer a fine one.”
At the idea of having advertisements appear in the magazine, the Blue Birds and Bobolinks looked at each other in surprise.
“We never thought ofthat!” ventured Ned.
“Sounds like real work, when you hear the words ‘solicitors’ and ‘advertisements,’ doesn’t it?” commented Jinks.
“I’ve been trying to make you understand from the first that this will mean work as well as pleasure,” insisted Uncle Ben.
“They’ll all wake up to that fact soon enough, Ben—go on with your story,” laughed Mr. Talmage.
“Mr. Wilson, who is connected with the Oakdale Paper Mills, then offered to donate enough paper to get out several months’ issues, so I accepted that offer with delight, thinking you could make use of Aunt Selina’s offer in some other way. Mr. Wilson is going to bring some samples of paper over to the Publishing House soon and let us make our selections. A man whom I just met offered to speak to the Manhattan SubscriptionAgency about taking subscriptions for you and giving the magazine a good position in their next catalogue.”
“So much good luck actually turned Uncle Ben’s head,” laughed Mr. Talmage, during a moment’s silence. “Why, he hardly knew what he went to the city for, and I had to guide him by the arm to show him the way to his office.”
“Of course, my friends here know better than to believe any such scandalous tales about me!” replied Uncle Ben, looking at his brother as if to dare him to tease any more.
The children always enjoyed these make-believe quarrels between the two brothers, and Ned generally egged them on. To-day, however, he was too eager to hear about the trip to the city and so urged Uncle Ben to finish the story.
“We found the machinery that I think you can best use here, and had it prepared for shipment. Just as we were leaving the store-room a man came down with a load of type.
“‘Where are you taking that?’ I asked him.
“‘Boss said to send it off to be melted down,’ replied the man.
“‘Just leave it on top of this packing case—I’llsee that it is taken care of,’ I told him, and he did as I said.
“Now, boys, all of that type is coming out here for you to work with. I had it charged to my account at the office, for it was a ‘big find’ to get hold of some type just at the time we needed it,” concluded Uncle Ben, taking a long breath of relief.
“And now, I’ll tell you of all the things Uncle Ben forgot to mention,” laughed Mr. Talmage.
“When we left the stock-room and went to his office, he picked up the telephone and called up more friends than I ever thought he knew. Two or three of them were invited to lunch with us, and the others were told about the wonderful work the Oakdale children were planning. Every one of his friends was told to help along or suggest some way to boost the magazine. Of course, they had to promise.”
Uncle Ben chuckled to himself as his brother told about the telephone experiences.
“Now, we come to the time when this crafty uncle of yours met his friends at lunch. What do you think his plot was? Well, just listen and Iwill tell you,” and Mr. Talmage nodded his head warningly at his brother.
“One of his guests was Mr. Connell, the man that owns one of the largest engraving plants in the city. This Uncle Ben told his story in such an engaging way that that business man actually offered to turn out the plates you needed for the magazine at actual cost for several months. We all know what that means—several hundred dollars on the credit side of the ledger.”
All eyes were turned toward Uncle Ben for confirmation of the great offer, and he nodded his head smilingly.
“One of the best business advisers I know in New York said that he thought you children had an unusually good idea for a successful business investment, and hoped that you would keep it up until you were adults and saw the financial benefit in it,” said Uncle Ben, seriously.
The girls were pleased at this news, but the boys were hilarious to find that a clever business man approved of the plan they were working out.
“When will the machinery be here, Uncle Ben?” asked Ned.
“It is coming by freight and will take a fewdays, but you will be kept busy until then in finishing the shop-work,” returned Uncle Ben.
“Yes, indeed, we will have to build some stands for type, too, with the boxful you got for us,” answered Ned.
“We Blue Birds spent all of our afternoon engaging editors to take charge of the pages,” ventured Ruth, who thought the Blue Birds had been quiet too long.
“You’ll have to have all the pages ready to hand over to me by the tenth of October, you know; I’ll need about three days for making linotype and then you can have the proofs back,” said Uncle Ben.
“Oh, we will have everything ready long before the tenth,” laughed Mrs. Talmage.
“From the way the Blue Birds are working, I should say that each one will have about five hundred pages written by that time,” added Aunt Selina, smilingly.
“In that case, we will have to have each page add a notice at the bottom: ‘To be continued in our Nest.’”
CHAPTER VIIBLUE BIRD WISDOM AND BOBOLINK WORK
“There! my page is all done!” exclaimed Ruth, holding a sheet of paper away to admire the neatly written notes for “Household Hints.”
“Mine’s done, too, but I’m going to copy it over to-night to make it look neat as a pin,” said Norma.
“Did you get any new candy recipes?” asked Dot eagerly.
The little Blue Bird who took charge of the “Candy Kettle” smacked her lips emphatically.
“I haven’t started to ink the pencil lines of my cut-out paper furniture, but that won’t take long,” explained Dot. “I started with the kitchen because Mumzie said no good housekeeper would furnish a parlor if she had no kitchen equipment.”
“I did my drawing lesson, but I haven’t written the lesson telling the children how to make the picture,” said Betty, with a worried look toward Mrs. Talmage.
“Plenty of time, dear,” soothed Mrs. Talmage. “You know Uncle Ben said we would have until the tenth of the month.”
The Blue Birds were gathered in the cherry-tree Nest after school, one day, waiting for the signal from the Publishing House which would tell them they might run over and inspect the huge pieces of machinery that had arrived that day from New York. Ike and Simon had to help the three truckmen as they placed rollers under the press and rolled it from the truck and into the room. The stitcher, cutter and other pieces were not so unwieldy to move and place. At noon, Ned saw the men struggling with the press and so refrained from going near the house, but he told the other Bobolinks, and immediately after school was dismissed a crowd of boys ran to their shop.
The Blue Birds had been enjoined to keep out of the way while the boys cleared things up and investigated the various pieces of machinery. It was a strain on their patience, however, to remain in their Nest and listen to the laughs, exultant shouts, and sounds of satisfaction coming from the carriage house.
All things have an end, so Uncle Ben soon appeared at the wide doorway of the Publishing House and gave a shrill whistle for the Blue Birds. Instantly, seven little girls took flight down the steps and across the lawn, leaving Mrs. Talmage to assist Aunt Selina.
The Blue Birds ran in and looked about. The great, ugly, black machines with wheels, rollers and arms everywhere, did not impress them very favorably.
“Can’t make head or tail of the thing!” scorned Dot.
“No one expects a girl to understand,” replied her brother Don.
“I would be afraid of that dreadful looking knife!” shuddered Betty, standing at a safe distance and pointing to the wide blade of the paper cutter.
Then the children crowded about the stitcher while Uncle Ben showed the wonderful work the machine did.
The electric attachments had not yet been completed, so the demonstration of the machines had to be by gestures. But Uncle Ben was equal to it, and the children felt that they could almostseethe machines running as they listened to his explanations.
“Well, Uncle Ben, I don’t see how we can start this work without you superintending us,” ventured Meredith.
“It all seemed simple enough when we were talking about printing a magazine, but this job is more than I can do,” admitted Jinks.
“I am at home with my little press, Uncle Ben, but these big fellows make me want to run away from the contract we made with you,” added Ned, seriously.
The Blue Birds and younger Bobolinks heard the older boys with anxious concern lest the entire plan should fail.
“I thought of just such a contingency and provided for it,” replied Uncle Ben, with his optimistic manner. “I realize that you all go to school and afternoons after school do not give you much time to experiment on these machines, so I found two young men who used to do good work for us who were pleased to come out here for a few weeks and show you boys how to do things. They won’t come until the galley proofs arrive, but then, they will help you get out thefirst issue and teach you everything there is to know about these machines. They will take them all apart and teach you how to put them together again. A machine is like a man’s valuable animal—if you pay no attention to its welfare, it does not last long enough to pay you for its keep.”
“We’ll look after our machinery all right, Uncle Ben,” agreed Ned, with the look of the workman who truly loves his tools.
“I’m sure you will, and I hope the Blue Birds will have as much pride in turning out commendable articles for us to print,” added Uncle Ben, looking at Mrs. Talmage.
“Oh, Uncle Ben, there’s one question I want to ask—may we each sign our own name to our page or must we make up a pretend name?” asked Ruth.
“Why, sign your very own name, of course; that is one way of making you keep up to the mark. If you only had a pretend name on your page you might get careless and say, ‘Oh, no one knows who it is, anyway, so I don’t care if this story isn’t as good as it ought to be.’”
Mrs. Talmage and Aunt Selina smiled, for they could see the wisdom of the remark.
“I guess my father will be proud to see my name in a magazine,” boasted Dot Starr.
“All depends on what you tack your name to, Dot,” laughed Meredith.
“It’ll be fine, all right!” exclaimed Dot, nodding her head emphatically.
“Shall we have our names at the top or at the bottom of the pages, Ben?” asked Mrs. Talmage.
“Oh, please, Uncle Ben, do put them at thetop! I am afraid no one will stop to read our names if you have them at the bottom,” worried little Betty.
Everyone laughed, but Uncle Ben assured her that the name would be placed directly under the name of the article.
Then, while the Blue Birds watched the boys placing type in the cases, Uncle Ben sat down beside Mrs. Talmage and had a quiet talk about affairs in general.
In concluding he said, “Now don’t you worry if the children should neglect a page now and then, for I can turn in heaps of good stories and articles any time we may need them.”
“Oh, these children are so reliable that they would rather do without food or sleep than neglectanything that promises funds for next summer’s farms,” returned Mrs. Talmage.
“Glad to hear it, and hope they keep it up. Now, what pages have you provided for each month—and have you any to spare for some prominent writers who are friends of mine and feel deeply interested in this venture?” asked Uncle Ben.
“Oh, yes!” replied Mrs. Talmage. “We have seven pages taken by the Blue Birds and four by the Bobolinks. Then there is a story Aunt Selina has been thinking of writing, and a page for music that her friend in New York will contribute. Mrs. Catlin promised to give us some tale of adventure each month and that will take two pages. So, let me see—that takes up, in all, sixteen pages. How many pages shall we have in the magazine?”
“About forty-eight is the usual size for such a paper,” replied Uncle Ben, figuring out Mrs. Talmage’s number of pages and making a memorandum of the balance remaining for use.
“Gracious! then we will have to find much more manuscript than I thought,” worried Mrs Talmage.
“No, I do not think so—that is what I want to find out to-day. A very good friend of mine who had charge of Field’s Museum for four years, so heartily endorsed this plan that he offered to supply a page article on plant life each month. His name alone is valuable to a paper, and it will certainly give weight to our magazine. Then, besides him, a very close friend, who has been connected with a prominent book concern for more than twenty years, called me up to say that this idea was just what he has been hoping for. Both he and his wife are eager to assist in some way. I suggested that they supply a page on bird life and give us some valuable hints about our feathered friends. This man has published numerous books on the subject of birds and is just the one to speak with authority. The moment I mentioned it, he accepted my invitation; so we have two renowned writers for most interesting and instructive pages each month,” said Uncle Ben.
“Why, how wonderful!” exclaimed Aunt Selina, who had been silent during the conversation. “I don’t see how you ever accomplish such miracles!”
Mrs. Talmage looked at Uncle Ben and said,laughingly, “Maybe it’s because we never take ‘no’ for an answer. We keep at an idea until it is hammered into everyone’s heart and mind.”
“And the moment our friends have it well hammered in they get so interested in succeeding that others are sought by them and the same story hammered into another head and heart,” added Uncle Ben.
“Well, I’m hammered and rooted in the work, and am anxious to have friends in it, too. Is that the way you do?” asked Aunt Selina.
“That’s just it! and before anyone else knows what’s going on, dozens of folks are working on the same idea,” replied Mrs. Talmage.
“Mary said something about a story that you wished to contribute, Aunt Selina—what is it?” asked Uncle Ben.
“An experience I had in the Civil War when I was visiting my old school chum, Rebecca Crudup. You have never heard any of my tales of that visit, but I assure you they are exciting.”
“And you were there! Why, Aunt Selina, your manuscript would be valuable to any magazine! I wish you would let me read it before you turn it over to the Blue Birds,” said Uncle Beneagerly, the business instinct for new material for his magazine pushing the Blue Birds’ magazine into the background.
“You may see it after it is published in the children’s paper,” quietly replied Aunt Selina.
Uncle Ben took the rebuke in the right spirit, and said, “Is your friend alive to-day?”
“She was until last year, but her daughter is the musician I wish to get ‘rooted’ in this work for a music page. I haven’t her studio address, or I would have written to her about this.”
“Give me her name and the last address you knew of, and I will locate her as soon as I get back to the city,” offered Uncle Ben.
Uncle Ben wrote the name and late address in a book then turned to the ladies with a suggestion.
“Aunt Selina’s story will surely take more than the two pages you spoke of, so why not make a serial story of her Civil War experience?”
“Splendid! That is just the thing,” cried Mrs. Talmage.
“I could make it as long as you wanted it to run, for Rebecca visited me after the war and told me plenty of her wild adventures after I returnedhome from the South. Why, my coachman, Abe, was one of the Crudup slaves. He says they all stuck close to the family, for they loved them and wanted to remain, but Mr. Crudup lost most of his wealth in the war and had no place or means for so many servants,” related Miss Selina.
The children had made a thorough inspection of the machinery and type by this time and had joined the grown-ups.
“What was that you were telling mother, Aunt Selina?” asked Ned, who overheard the word “war” and was interested.
“Why, we just discovered that Aunt Selina had a very exciting time in the South during the Civil War and she is going to write it up for your magazine,” explained Uncle Ben.
“Oh, goody, goody!” exclaimed a chorus of voices.
“It’s strange that you never told us any of those stories, Aunt Selina,” ventured Mrs. Talmage.
“Oh, it all happened so long ago, dearie, that I never thought anyone would be interested. Besides,it turns to a page of my life that I always wanted to keep closed,” sighed Aunt Selina.
The others, respecting her reticence, changed the subject. Uncle Ben smiled at her and made a comforting remark.
“Aunt Selina, when we finish our first year’s work I am going to write a most interesting treatise and call it, ‘Aunt Selina’s Recipes for Youth.’”
“What do you mean?” she questioned.
“Just what I said,” replied he, laughing. “Since you have taken an interest in this work you have grown years and years younger in looks and actions.”
“Ben, you’re making fun of me!” declared Aunt Selina.
“No, he’s not, Aunt Selina; you really are looking fine,” said Mrs. Talmage.
“Aunt Selina, isn’t that what I prescribed for you at Happy Hills?” cried Ruth, exultantly.
“Yes, Fluffy, you did, and all the glory of this old conquest belongs to you,” admitted Aunt Selina, patting the little girl upon the head.
Just then, an expressman drove up and spoke to Ike.
“Right to the front door—that is the B. B. & B. B. Publishing Company’s shop,” replied Ike with pride.
Uncle Ben signed for the safe delivery of a large flat box and the children crowded about to watch Ned and Jinks open it.
The box was marked “Glass” and “Handle with Care,” so Ruth ran over to her uncle to inquire about it.
“Do you know what is in it?” asked she.
“I believe it is the box that failed to arrive with the other things,” he replied, smiling.
“Do tell what it is,” persisted Ruth.
“Why? You’ll soon see, and it would spoil the surprise if I told you,” said Uncle Ben.
Ruth skipped back to the circle formed about the case watching Ned take out the nails very carefully. Soon Jinks and he had the top boards off and then started to lift out the excelsior. This disposed of, a flat paper parcel was seen. Ned lifted it out, and seeing another one underneath, Jinks took it out also. Meredith and Don looked to see if there were any more, but excelsior seemed to fill the bottom of the box.
“Who has a knife?” asked Ned, not finding his own in his pocket.
“Here, here! hurry up and cut the twine!” shouted Don.
Ned took Don’s knife with the broken blade and rusty handle, and smiled as he hacked away at the twine. After several vigorous efforts the string parted and several hands hurried to tear off the heavy paper.
A large picture of Benjamin Franklin, in a heavy oak frame, came out from its wrappings.
“Oh, isn’t that fine!” cried several voices.
“Just our man, isn’t he?” laughed Ned, pleased as could be.
“If I had a head like that I could invent machines, too,” grumbled Don, feeling of his round little head in disgust.
While the others laughed at the remark, Meredith turned to the other parcel which Jinks held on the floor. The twine was soon cut and the papers taken off to reveal the strong features of Abraham Lincoln.
“Ho, that’s best yet!” cried the boys who felt a deep admiration for the man whose picture stood before them.
Mr. Talmage and Mrs. Catlin came in during the exhibition of pictures, and the former said, “Just what you needed to complete the office appearance.”
“Yes, indeed, Uncle Ben, and we thank you heaps and heaps!” exclaimed Ned, carrying his picture into the office.
Jinks followed and Don started to drag away the box that stood in the midst of the circle of children.
“Better see if there are any more!” called Uncle Ben, warningly.
Don dropped upon his knees and sought in the excelsior.
“Oh! here’s some more and I almost threw them away!” he cried, as he dragged forth several small packages.
Upon being opened they proved to be a number of pictures of famous publishers and inventors of printing machinery.
“Won’t they look just great, though!” came from several pleased boys.
“Why, come to think of it,” said Mrs. Catlin, “my husband has a number of fine plates of machines and things of that kind. He was connectedwith the Vivla Machine Company, you know, and they manufactured presses and printers’ tools. They might look well if added to this collection.”
Everyone agreed that the more the better, and then Dot remembered that Mrs. Catlin had not seen the office and machinery.
“Walk right over and see how officey our office looks with your desk and table,” she cried.
“And Mrs. Talmage sent in the chairs,” added Betty.
“And my mother sent the carpet,” added Norma, pointing to the green rug.
“And father says we may have his typewriting machine and table here when he’s away from home,” said Ruth, eagerly.
Mrs. Catlin praised the arrangement, and then asked to be shown the wonderful machinery that was to do such great work.
“Dear me, I heartily regret that I am not a little girl so that I might glory in this office and work,” sighed Mrs. Catlin, coming back to the grown-ups.
“You don’t have to be ‘little,’ Therese,” laughed Mrs. Talmage. “You are one of this juvenileclub as surely as if you were but ten. Why, you couldn’t pass the place without coming in to ask for news.”
“To tell the truth, I was going to the village, but I heard the happy shouts away out on the road and so I just wanted to know the cause,” confessed Mrs. Catlin, smiling.
“I hope I may live a few years longer to see the results of this work,” sighed Aunt Selina.
“You will, Flutey, you will!” cried Dot, enthusiastically. “What Uncle Ben told you was really truly true!”
“And just think, Mrs. Catlin, Flutey is going to write a long serious story for our magazine all about the war that she was in!” cried Betty Stevens.
The grown-ups smiled at Betty’s idea of a “serial” story, but Mrs. Catlin looked surprised.
“Why, I never knew you were from the South?”
“I’m not, but I was visiting there during an exciting time, and Ben thinks my experience will make a readable story,” replied Aunt Selina.
Mrs. Catlin looked at the aged lady with interest and said how much she would like to hearthe tale. Suddenly, however, she slapped her gloved hands together and spoke.
“Now, what reason is there that I should not have some pages in this magazine?” she asked.
“Show us any good reason for taking our space and you may have it,” teased Mrs. Talmage.
“Then put me down for another serial. I have a collection of short stories that Mr. Catlin wrote of his adventures in Alaska. It does not seem much like an adventure to go to Alaska nowadays, but forty years ago it was as if one were leaving this hemisphere for the unknown. Some of his tales are intensely interesting,” said Mrs. Catlin.
“Why, friends, we are getting so many notable articles and writers together that we will soon have to raise the subscription price,” laughed Mr. Talmage.
“That reminds me that we never thought of a charge. We ought to decide what subscription price we wish to ask,” said Uncle Ben.
“Has anyone thought of that?” asked Mrs. Talmage, looking about at Blue Birds and Bobolinks.
Heads were shaken and Ned asked, “How canwe tell how much to charge until we know what the magazine will cost?”
“I can help you figure that out, I think,” offered Uncle Ben, sitting down at the table and taking paper and pencil from the drawer.
“Figure how much five hundred—or say, a thousand will cost,” ventured Ned.
“A thousand! Where will you send them?” cried Jinks.
“I should say, figure on five thousand—or ten,” said Uncle Ben, quietly.
“What!” gasped several boys.
“Yes, because ten thousand will not cost much more than three hundred.”
“How’s that?” asked the boys.
“Plates, linotype, lock-up, make-ready, will cost as much for one magazine as for one thousand. The only extra cost in getting out a quantity is in paper, ink and time. Now, I firmly believe that we will be able to send out ten thousand by the time you have them ready.”
“Well, Uncle Ben, it soundsawfulbig to us, particularly as we haven’t one single subscription, yet,” said Ruth.
“Here—here, Fluff, don’t let that bother you!”said Mr. Talmage, throwing a five-dollar bill upon the table.
“And here’s for ten more!” laughed Aunt Selina, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her purse.
“Here’s for five orphan asylums,” added Mrs. Catlin placing a ten-dollar note on the table.
“How now, Fluff—where are your blues, eh?” teased Uncle Ben.
The children saw the crisp notes lying on the table and felt the joy of a successful start.
“From what Aunt Selina and Mrs. Talmage offered, it looks as if the price should be two dollars per year. Now, let us figure out how close we come to that,” said Uncle Ben.
After counting up cost of production plus cost of mailing, it was decided that two dollars would be a just price, but there would be little profit unless more money could be gotten for advertising, or some saving made.
“Guess we’ve about completed our business for to-day,” ventured Uncle Ben, as he noticed the children growing restless.
“Yes, let us go to the house and have some nice cool lemonade and cookies,” suggested Mr. Talmage.
Eager looks turned toward Mrs. Talmage, and she laughed.
“We’re always ready for something good to eat, father, so you show us the way to the picnic.”
It took but a few moments for the children to reach the wide veranda and settle down comfortably until the maids brought out the refreshments.
“A day’s work always ought to finish like this,” mused Don, munching a delicious piece of cake.