CHAPTER III
CHAPTER III
“I have been thinking and thinking,” said Rosanna, “and not an idea have I had until just now. Here is what I just thought up.
“You know Uncle Bob was telling me about benefit performances that actors and musicians have. I think they get them up themselves mostly, when they want some money, but I was talking to Minnie about it yesterday when she came in for a minute and she says in her church they have benefits all the time. People sing and play and recite poetry, and it is lovely. And I thought up something better still.
“What if you and I, Helen, could make up a sort of play all about the Girl Scouts and give it?”
“Write it out of our heads?” said Helen, quite aghast.
“Yes,” said Rosanna. “It is easy. Before grandmother used to let me have little girls to play with, I used to make up plays, oh lots of times!”
“With conversations?” pressed Helen.
“Yes, made up of conversations and coming on the stage and going off again, and people dying, and everything.”
“Dear me!” said Helen with the air of one who never suspected such a thing of a friend. “Dear me!” she said again. “I am sure I couldneverdo it. You will have to do it yourself. What is it going to be about?”
“Why, I have to have time to think,” said Rosanna. “You have to think a long time when you are going to be an author. It is very difficult.”
“You don’t suppose you are all out of practice, do you?” asked Helen anxiously. “Why, Rosanna, that would be too perfectly splendid! A real play! Where could we give it? We couldn’t rent a real theatre.”
“Oh, my, no!” said Rosanna, beginning to be rather frightened at the picture Helen was conjuring up. “We won’t have that sort of a play. We will have a little one that we can give in grandmother’s parlor, or over at Mrs. Hargrave’s.”
“I wouldn’t,” said Helen stoutly. “I just know you can write a beautiful play, Rosanna, and I think we ought to give it in some big place where a lot of people can come, and we will have tickets, and chairs all in rows and a curtain and everything.”
“Oh, I don’t believe I could write a good enough play for all that,” cried Rosanna.
“Well, just do the best you can and I know it will be perfectly lovely.”
“I tell you what,” said Rosanna, beginning to be sorry that she had spoken. “Please don’t tellElise or anyone about it until I see what I can write, and then after you and I have read it, if it is good enough, we will show it to Uncle Robert and see what he says.”
“Itwillbe good enough,” said Helen positively. “Just think of the piece of poetry you wrote to read at the Girl Scout meeting. It was so lovely that I ’most cried. All that part about the new moon, and how you felt when you died. It sounded so true, and yet I don’t see how you know how you are going to feel when you die. I can’t feel it at all. I suppose that is because you are a poet. Mother says it is a great and beautiful thing to be a poet, but that you must look out for your digestion.”
“My digestion is all right so far,” said Rosanna. “I am glad to know that, though, because if your mother says so, it must be so.”
“Of course!” said Helen proudly. “When will you begin your play, Rosanna?”
“Right away after dinner,” said Rosanna. “That is, if Uncle Robert goes out. If he stays at home I will have to play cribbage with him. If I go off to my own room, he comes right up. He says he is afraid that I will get to nursing a secret sorrow.”
“What is a secret sorrow?” asked Helen.
“I don’t know exactly,” said Rosanna. “Uncle Robert looked sort of funny when I asked him, and perhaps he made it up because he just said,‘Why—er, why—er, a secret sorrow is—don’t you know what it is, Rosanna?’”
“Sometimes I wonder if your Uncle Robert really means all he says,” said Helen suspiciously.
“I wonder too,” agreed Rosanna, nodding, “but he is a perfect dear, anyway, even if he is old. He is twenty-four, and grandmother is always saying that Robert is old enough to know better.”
“I know he will be all sorts of help about our play, anyway,” said Helen.
“I know he will too,” said Rosanna. “We will show him the play the minute I finish it.”
Rosanna went right to work on her play whenever she had any time to spare.
When Saturday morning came she went with Doctor MacLaren to see Gwenny, and after she had introduced him to Gwenny’s mother she went and sat in the automobile with Mary and Luella and Myron and Baby Christopher to talk to. But she scarcely knew what she was saying because she was so busy wondering what the doctor would do to poor Gwenny, whose back nearly killed her if anyone so much as touched it.
The doctor stayed a long, long time, and when he came out he stood and talked and talked with Gwenny’s mother. He smiled his kind, grave smile at her very often, but when he turned away and came down the little walk Rosanna fancied that he looked graver than usual.
“Is sheverybad?” Rosanna asked when the machine was started.
“Pretty bad, Rosanna dear,” said the doctor. “She will need a very serious operation that cannot be done here. She will have to go to a hospital in Cincinnati where there is a wonderful surgeon, Doctor Branshaw, who specializes in troubles of the spine. He will help her if anyone can. She is in a poor condition anyway, and we will have to look after her pretty sharply to get her in as good a shape physically as we can. If she goes, I will take her myself, and will have her given the best care she can have. What a dear, patient, sweet little girl she is.”
“Yes, she is!” agreed Rosanna absently. “Well, if she is as sick as you think, I don’t see but what we will justhaveto earn the money some way or other!” Rosanna was very silent all the way home, and that afternoon she retired to the rose arbor and worked as hard as ever she could on the play. It was really taking shape. Rosanna would not show the paper to Helen or to Elise, who had been told the great secret. She wanted to finish it and surprise them.
By four o’clock she was so tired that she could write no longer. She put her tablet away and started to the telephone to call Helen. As she went down the hall the door bell rang. She could see a familiar figure dancing up and down outside the glass door. It was Elise, apparently in a greatstate of excitement. Rosanna ran and opened the door.
Elise danced in. She caught Rosanna around the waist and whirled her round and round.
“Behold I have arrive, I have arrive!” she sang.
“Of course you have arrived!” said Rosanna. “What makes you feel like this about it?”
“Behold!” said Elise again with a sweeping gesture toward the front door.
Mrs. Hargrave’s house-boy, grinning from ear to ear, was coming slowly up the steps bearing a large covered tray. Elise took it from him with the greatest care and set it carefully on a table.
“Approach!” she commanded, and Rosanna, really curious, drew near the mysterious article. Slowly Elise drew off the cover. Under it in all the glory of a golden brown crust, little crinkles all about the edge, sat a pie looking not only good enough to eat, but almosttoogood.
“Peench off a tiny, tiny bit of ze frill,” said Elise, pointing to the scallopy edge. “A very tiny peench, and you will see how good. Now I can be the Girl Scout because all the other things I can so well do.”
Rosanna took a careful pinch and found the crust light and very flaky and dry.
“Perfectly delicious, Elise!” she pronounced it. “Did you do it all yourself?”
“Of a certainty!” said Elise proudly. “I would not do the which otherwise than as it is so requiredby the Girl Scouts. And now I am most proud. If you will so kindly take me when you go to the meeting this afternoon, I will offer this to the most adorable little Captain as one more reason the why I should be allowed to join.”
“Of course I will take you,” said Rosanna. “I was just going to telephone for Helen. If she is ready we will start at once.”
“I will go for my hat,” said Elise. Then anxiously, “Will the beautiful pie rest here in safety?”
“Yes, indeed; it will be perfectly safe,” laughed Rosanna.
Elise was the happiest little girl in all the room at the meeting. Everyone fell in love with her at once, her manners were so gentle and pretty and she was so full of life. Her curls danced and her eyes, and her red lips smiled, and it seemed as though her feet wanted to dance instead of going in a humdrum walk. The Scout Captain and the committee on pie decided that Elise had made the most delicious of its kind.
At the close of the business part of the meeting, the Captain asked as usual if anyone had any news of interest to offer or any requests or questions to ask. It was all Rosanna could do to keep from telling them all about Gwenny and asking for advice and help, but she decided to keep it all to herself until she had finished the play. Then if it turned out to be any good (and it would be easy to tell that by showing it to Uncle Bob) she wouldtake it to the Captain, and if she approved, Rosanna would bring the whole thing up before the next meeting.
On the way home, Helen said to Rosanna, “How are you getting on with your play, Rosanna? Did you work on it this afternoon as you expected to?”
“Yes, I did, and it seems to be coming along beautifully,” said Rosanna. “I wanted to ask you about it. Don’t you think it would be nice to put in a couple of songs about the Girl Scouts, and perhaps a dance?”
“Simply splendid!” said Helen. “Oh, Rosanna,dohurry! I can scarcely wait for you to finish it. Girl Scout songs and a Girl Scout dance! Do you know the Webster twins can dance beautifully? Their mother used to be a dancer on the stage before she married their father, and she has taught them the prettiest dances. They do them together. They are awfully poor, and I don’t know if they could afford to get pretty dancing dresses to wear, but I should think we could manage somehow.”
“Oh, we will,” said Rosanna. “Idowish we could have our families help us!”
“Think how surprised they will be if we do this all by ourselves except what Uncle Bob does, and our Scout Captain.”
“I don’t see that Uncle Bob can do very much,” rejoined Rosanna. “But he is real interested and wants to help.”
“We ought to let him do whatever he can,” saidHelen. “Father often tells mother that he hopes she notices how much she depends on his superior intellect, but she just laughs and says ‘Nonsense! Helen, don’t listen to that man at all!’ But we must depend on our own superior intellects now.”
“It won’t take me long to finish the play,” said Rosanna. “It is only going to be a one-act play, and if it isn’t long enough to make a whole entertainment, we will have to have some recitations and songs before and after it.”
“I do think you might let me see what you have written,” coaxed Helen.
“I would rather not,” pleaded Rosanna. “Somehow I feel as though I couldn’t finish it if I should show it to anyone before it is done. I will show it to you the very first one, Helen. Here is one thing you can hear.”
She took a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, and while Helen walked very close beside her commenced: “This is a song sung by two sisters named Elsie and Allis. And you will see what it is all about.”
“Is there a tune for it too?” said Helen in great wonder.
“No, I can’t make up music,” said Rosanna regretfully, “and, anyhow, I think it would come easier to use a tune everybody knows. This goes to the tune ofReuben, Reuben, I’ve been Thinking. You know that?”
“Of course,” said Helen. “Now let’s hear the poetry.”
Rosanna had written:
“Two girls come on the stage, one from the right and one from the left. One is dressed in beautiful clothes, and the other very neat and clean, but in awfully poor things. She has on a thin shawl. She is Elsie. The rich child is Allis. Allis sees Elsie, and sings:
SONGAir,Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking.Allis.Elsie, Elsie, I’ve been thinkingWhat a pleasure it would be,If we had some friends or sistersJust to play with you and me.All our time we spend in studyThere is no place nice to go.After school an hour of practiceOh, I get to hate it so!ChorusJust an hour or two of practice,One and two and three and four;Add, subtract, or find the tangent;Everything is just a bore!
SONG
Air,Reuben, Reuben, I’ve Been Thinking.
Allis.
Elsie, Elsie, I’ve been thinking
What a pleasure it would be,
If we had some friends or sisters
Just to play with you and me.
All our time we spend in study
There is no place nice to go.
After school an hour of practice
Oh, I get to hate it so!
Chorus
Just an hour or two of practice,
One and two and three and four;
Add, subtract, or find the tangent;
Everything is just a bore!
Elsie.Then, dear Allis, when we finish,We can go and take a walk;That, unless the day is rainy,Then we just sit down and talk.And there’s not a thing to talk of,Not a scheme or plan to make,Not a deed of gentle loving,Nothing done for Someone’s sake.ChorusNot a thing for us to aim for—Not a height for us to climb!Just the stupid task of living;Just the bore of passing time!Enter Girl Scout with many Merit Badges on her sleeve.Girl Scout.Did I hear you wish for friendships?Mates to join in work and play?Someone true and good and lovingYou would chum with every day?See this uniform? It tells youYou can wear it; be a Scout!See the sleeve with all the “Merits”?You could win without a doubt.ChorusAll—Oh, what fun we’ll have together!Oh, what work and jolly play!Walks and talks and happy studyWith the Girl Scouts every day.
Elsie.
Then, dear Allis, when we finish,
We can go and take a walk;
That, unless the day is rainy,
Then we just sit down and talk.
And there’s not a thing to talk of,
Not a scheme or plan to make,
Not a deed of gentle loving,
Nothing done for Someone’s sake.
Chorus
Not a thing for us to aim for—
Not a height for us to climb!
Just the stupid task of living;
Just the bore of passing time!
Enter Girl Scout with many Merit Badges on her sleeve.
Girl Scout.
Did I hear you wish for friendships?
Mates to join in work and play?
Someone true and good and loving
You would chum with every day?
See this uniform? It tells you
You can wear it; be a Scout!
See the sleeve with all the “Merits”?
You could win without a doubt.
Chorus
All—
Oh, what fun we’ll have together!
Oh, what work and jolly play!
Walks and talks and happy study
With the Girl Scouts every day.