diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:33:21 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:33:21 -0700 |
| commit | 304331aa0f1f269f38888a5a9911e28a3f43bc54 (patch) | |
| tree | 80c0576035fdba6a899eb35fe2e6a36a9759fde5 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 501623 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/9505-h.htm | 3348 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im1.png | bin | 0 -> 75878 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im2.png | bin | 0 -> 75344 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im3.png | bin | 0 -> 78465 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im4.png | bin | 0 -> 69348 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im5.png | bin | 0 -> 75048 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im6.png | bin | 0 -> 75607 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505-h/images/comp-im7.png | bin | 0 -> 997 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505.txt | 2460 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 9505.zip | bin | 0 -> 46886 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/gcomp10.txt | 2428 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/gcomp10.zip | bin | 0 -> 46851 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/gcomp10h.zip | bin | 0 -> 501761 bytes |
17 files changed, 8252 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9505-h.zip b/9505-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f8e28bb --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h.zip diff --git a/9505-h/9505-h.htm b/9505-h/9505-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1841c37 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/9505-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3348 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= + "text/html; charset=us-ascii"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Four Girls and a Compact, by + Annie Hamilton Donnell. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + <!-- + * { font-family: Times;} + P { text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: .75em; + font-size: 12pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + PRE { font-family: Courier, monospaced; } + // --> + </style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Four Girls and a Compact, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: Four Girls and a Compact + +Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell + +Posting Date: February 5, 2015 [EBook #9505] +Release Date: December, 2005 +First Posted: October 7, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT *** + + + + +Produced by Joel Erickson, David Garcia and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + + <p> + + </p> + + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <h1> + Four Girls and a Compact + </h1> + <center> + <b>By Annie Hamilton Donnell</b> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + + + <p> + + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <hr> + <p> + <a href="#CH1">CHAPTER I.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#CH2">CHAPTER II.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#CH3">CHAPTER III.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#CH4">CHAPTER IV.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#CH5">CHAPTER V.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#CH6">CHAPTER VI.</a> + </p> + <h2> + Illustrations + </h2> + <hr> + <p> + <a href="#image-1">"You poor little blessed!" she + murmured.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-2">"Which way is the village?" she asked.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-3">The boy, with a mere nod, hurried + away.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-4">The old man sat listening and waiting.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-5">"I never fished in my life," she + explained.</a> + </p> + <p> + <a href="#image-6">The picture was nearly done.</a> + </p> + <hr> + <center> + [Transcriber's Note: Generated Contents and Illustration + links.] + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH1"><!-- CH1 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. + </h2> + <p> + "Wait for T.O.," commanded Loraine, and of course they + waited. Loraine's commands were always obeyed, Laura Ann + said, because her name was such a <i>queeny</i> one. Nobody + else in the little colony—the "B-Hive"—had a + queeny name. + </p> + <p> + "Though I just missed it," sighed Laura Ann. "Think what a + little step from Loraine to Laur' Ann! I always just miss + things." + </p> + <p> + T.O. was apt to be late. She never rode, and, being short, + was not a remarkable walker. To-night she was later than + usual. The three other girls got into kimonos and slippers + and prepared tea. In all their minds the Grand Plan was + fomenting, and it was not easy to wait. A cheer greeted T.O. + as she came in, wet and weary and cheerful. + </p> + <p> + "You're overdue, my dear," Loraine said severely. But of + course T.O. laughed and offered a weak pun: + </p> + <p> + "The 'dew' is over me, you mean! Oh, girls, this looks too + cozy for anything in here! All the way up town I've been + blessing you three for taking me in." + </p> + <p> + Said Laura Ann: "If I were pun-mad, like some folks, I could + do something quite smart there. But there, you poor, wet + dear! You sha'n't be outdone in your specialty, no you + sha'n't! Get off your things quick, dear—we're all + bursting to talk about the Grand Plan." + </p> + <p> + It was, after all, Billy that started in. Billy was very + tired indeed, and her lean, eager face was pale. + </p> + <p> + "Girls, we <i>must!</i>" she said. "I can't hold out more + than a few weeks more. I shall be a mental wreck and go + 'round muttering, <i>one</i>-two—three—four, + <i>one</i>—two—three—four—flat your + b's, sharp your + c's—one—two—three—four—<i>play!</i>" + For Billy all day toiled at pianos, teaching unwilling little + persons to play. Billy's long name was Wilhelmina. + </p> + <p> + They were all toilers—worker-B's. The "B" part of the + name which they had given to the little colony came from the + accident of all their surnames beginning with that + letter—Brown, Bent, Baker, Byers. It was, they all + agreed, a happy accident; the "B-Hive" sounded so well. But, + as Laura Ann said, it entailed things, notably industry. + </p> + <p> + Laura Ann finished negatives part of the day to earn money to + learn to paint the other part. She was poor, but the same + good grit that made her loyal to her old grandmother's name, + unshortened and unbeautified, gave her courage to work on + toward the distant goal. + </p> + <p> + Loraine taught—"just everlastingly taught," she said, + until she could do it with her eyes shut. Cube root, all + historic dates, all x, y, z's, were as printing to her, + dinned into the warp and woof of her by patient reiteration. + She was very tired, too. The rest of the long June days + stretched ahead of her in weary perspective. + </p> + <p> + That these three had drifted together in the great city was + sufficiently curious, but more curious yet was the "drifting + together" of T.O.—a plain little clerk in a great + department store. She, herself, humbly acknowledged that she + did not seem to "belong," but here she was, divesting herself + of her wet wraps and getting ready for tea in the tiny flat. + Handkerchiefs, initialed, "warranted,"—uninitialed, + unwarranted—were behind her and ahead, but between she + forgot their existence and took her comfort. + </p> + <p> + "Well?" she said presently. "I'm ready." They sat down to the + simple little meal without further delay and with the first + mouthfuls opened again the rather time-worn discussion. Could + they adopt the Grand Plan? Oh, <i>couldn't</i> they? To get + out of the hot, teeming city and breathe air enough and pure + enough, to luxuriate in idleness, to <i>rest</i>—to a + girl, they longed for it. They were all orphans, and they + were all poor. The Grand Plan was ambitious, indefinite, but + they could not give it up. They had wintered it and springed + it, and clung to it through bright days and dark. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Loraine tapped sharply on the table. "All in favor + of spending the summer in the country say 'aye,'" she cried, + "and say it hard!" + </p> + <p> + "Aye!" + </p> + <p> + "Aye!" + </p> + <p> + "Aye!" + </p> + <p> + "<i>Aye</i>!" appended Loraine, and said it hard. "It's a + vote," she added calmly. Then, staring at each other, they + sat for a little with rather frightened faces. For this thing + that they had done was rather a stupendous thing. T.O. + recovered first—courage was as the breath of her little + lean nostrils. + </p> + <p> + "Girls, this is great!" she laughed. "<i>We've gone and done + it!</i> There's nothing left but to pack our trunks!" + </p> + <p> + "Except a few last trifles, such as deciding where to go and + what to pay for it with," put in Laura Ann with soft irony. + "We could decide those things on the train, I suppose—" + </p> + <p> + "Let's decide 'em on the spot," rejoined T.O. imperturbably. + "Somebody propose something." + </p> + <p> + Here Billy was visited with one of her inspirations and + promptly shared it with her usual generosity. "We must hunt + up a place to—er—'bunk' in—just bunk and + board ourselves. Of course we can't afford to <i>be</i> + boarded—" + </p> + <p> + "Of course," in chorus. + </p> + <p> + "Well, then, one of us must go out into the waste + places—oh, anywhere where the grass has room to grow + and there are trees and birds and <i>barns</i>—I + stipulate barns." Billy made a splendid, comprehensive + gesture that took in all the points of the compass + impartially. "One of us must take a few days off and go and + hunt up a nice, inexpensive little Eldorado for us. + There!—there, my friends, you have the solution of your + knotty little problem in a nutshell. I gladly give my + 'services' free." + </p> + <p> + "Who's going?" demanded practical Laura Ann. "Does anybody + kindly volunteer?" + </p> + <p> + No volunteers. Silence, broken only by the chirp of the + cheery little teakettle. The immense responsibility of + setting the Grand Plan in motion was not to be lightly + assumed. The utter vagueness of Billy's "waste places" was + dismaying, to say the least. There might be many nice, + inexpensive little Eldorados waiting to be "bunked" in and + picnicked in, but where? The world was full of places where + there were trees and birds and barns, but to pick out the + particular one where four tired-out young toilers could lay + down their tools and rest <i>inexpensively</i>, looked like a + big undertaking. + </p> + <p> + Billy had settled back in her chair with an air of having + done her part and washed her hands of further responsibility. + The rest must do their parts now. Billy, who was the youngest + and frailest of the little colony of workers, had fallen into + the way of dropping asleep whenever opportunity offered; she + did so now with a little sigh of contentment. Her girlish + face against the faded crimson back of the chair looked + startlingly white. In her sleep she moved her lips and the + others caught a pathetic little "<i>one</i>-two-three-four" + dropping from them. Poor Billy! She was giving a music lesson + in her dreams! + </p> + <p> + Loraine made a little paper shade and shielded her pale face + from the light, and Laura Ann tilted the clumsy patent rocker + backward and trigged it with a book. Both their faces, tired, + too, and pale, were sweet with kindness. T.O., who did queer + and unexpected things, went round the table on her toes and + kissed Billy's forehead openly. Her face had a puckering + frown on it, oddly at variance with the kiss and with the + look in her eyes. The kiss and the look were the things that + mattered—the frown was a thing of insignificance. + </p> + <p> + "You poor little blessed!" she murmured. + </p> + <p> + "'Flat your b,'" murmured Billy wearily, and no one laughed. + They were all laughers, but the picture of Billy toiling on + monotonously in her sleep failed to appeal to them as + humorous. T.O. went back silently to her seat. + </p> + <p> + What the initials T.O. stood for in the way of a name had + been the subject of much guessing in the B-Hive, for the + owner of the initials refused whimsically to explain them. + Perhaps she would sometime when the moon was full or the wind + was in the right quarter, she said. Meanwhile T.O. did well + enough—as well as "Billy," anyway, or "Laura Ann"! And + they fell in gayly with her whimsy and called her T.O. The + nearest they had ever come to an answer to their guesses was + one night when they had been discussing "talents" and + comparing "callings," and T.O. had sat by, a wistful little + listener and admirer. For T.O. had no talent, and who would + call selling handkerchiefs from morning till night a + "calling"? Even sheer, fine handkerchiefs, warranted every + thread linen! + </p> + <p> + "Talentless One," she broke out startlingly. "You want to + know what 'T.O.' stands for—that's it!" And the amused + look in the girls' eyes changed quickly to understanding at + sight of her face. "Well," she challenged, "why don't you say + what an appropriate name it is? It's a wonder you + <i>talented</i> ones didn't guess it long ago! Listen! + Loraine's talent is writing—we all know she'll be an + author some day. Laura Ann's is art. Oh, you needn't + laugh—need she, girls? One of these days we're all + going to a 'hanging,' and <i>it'll be Laura Ann's!</i> + Billy's talent everybody knows. She can play wicked folks + good, if there's a piano handy. Well, what is my talent? + Don't everybody speak at once!" The girl's flushed face + defied them. It was bitter with longing to be a Talented One. + </p><a name="image-1"><!-- Image 1 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im1.png" height="400" width="570" alt= + "'YOU POOR LITTLE BLESSED!' SHE MURMURED."> + </center> + <p> + "Dear!" It was like gentle Loraine to begin with a "dear," + and like her, too, to cross the room to T.O. and touch her + little bitter face with cool fingers. "Dear, don't you + worry—your talent is <i>there.</i>" + </p> + <p> + "Where?" demanded T.O. Then she laughed. "I suppose you mean + buried in a handkerchief! But I shall never be able to dig it + out—never! There's such an awful pile of them on top! + They keep piling on new ones every day. If I keep on selling + handkerchiefs till I'm seventy-five, I'll never get down to + my talent." + </p> + <p> + It was, after all, quite true, though none of them would + acknowledge it—except the Talentless One herself. She + was, as she insisted, the odd one in the busy little B-Hive. + Her very face, small and dark and lean, was an "odd" one; the + faces of the other three were marked by an indefinable + something that she called talent, and she was not far wrong. + A subtle refinement, intellectuality, asserted itself gently + in all three of them. The dark little face of T.O. was + vivacious and keen, but not refined or intellectual. + </p> + <p> + Billy was the baby "B," as Loraine was the acknowledged + queen. They all favored Billy and took care of her. Was it a + rainy morning? Somebody got Billy's rubbers, somebody else + her umbrella! Was the child paler than usual? She must have + the softest chair and be babied. Poor little toiler-Billy, + created to have a mother and a home, to sit always in soft + chairs and be taken care of! Yet without them all she was + making a splendid struggle for independence, with the best of + them, and they were conscious of a certain element of heroism + in her toiling that none of the rest of them laid claim to in + their own. The other B.'s were proud of Billy. + </p> + <p> + T.O. was as small and thin as Billy, but no one thought of + taking care of T.O. or babying her. Instead, T.O.—the + Talentless One—took care of them all. She had always + been a toiler, always been alone, and to the rest it was + comparatively a new experience. T.O., as she herself said, + was able to give them all "points." + </p> + <p> + While tired Billy slept to-night, the Grand Plan discussion + was taken up again and entertained with new enthusiasm. It + was now a definite Plan, since they had voted unanimously to + adopt it—it was no longer merely a unanimous wish, to + be bandied about longingly. It remained only to choose a + brave soul to go forth and find for it a "local habitation." + </p> + <p> + "When Billy wakes up, we'll draw lots," Loraine decided + gently. "The one who gets the longest slip <i>will + go</i>—but mercy! I hope I sha'n't be the one! Girls, + there really ought to be one to—er—oversee the + drawing of the lots—" + </p> + <p> + "Hear! Hear!" from T.O. + </p> + <p> + "You will take your chances with the common herd, my dear," + Laura Ann said firmly. "You really need not be alarmed, + though, for I shall draw the fatal slip. I always do. Then I + shall go up-country and engage four boards at a nice white + house with green blinds, and forget to ask how much they will + cost—the 'boards,' I mean—and whether they'll + take Billy at half-price. You'll all like my white house, but + you won't be able to stay more than one night on account of + the expense. So you'll turn me out of the B-Hive and I + shall—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, don't do anything else—don't!" T.O. groaned. "That + will be doing enough." + </p> + <p> + "We shall have to find a <i>very</i> cheap place," Loraine + said, thoughtfully, too intent on the fate of the Grand Plan + to listen to pleasantries. "Somewhere where it won't cost + much of anything." + </p> + <p> + "Such an easy place to find!" murmured Laura Ann. "I see + myself going straight to it!" + </p> + <p> + "We've <i>got</i> to go to it, on account of—" Loraine + nodded toward the sleeping little figure in the softest + chair. "Girls, Billy is all worn out." + </p> + <p> + "So are you," Laura Ann said tenderly. + </p> + <p> + "And you," retorted Loraine. + </p> + <p> + The Talentless One, unintentionally left out, sighed an + infinitesimal sigh, preparatory to smiling stoutly. + </p> + <p> + "Of course we're going to find the right place," she said + convincingly. "You wait and see. <i>I</i> see it + now"—this dreamily; it was odd for the Talentless One + to be dreaming. "It looks this way: Green, grassy and + pine-woodsy and roomy. And cornfields—think of it!" + </p> + <p> + "'Woods and cornfields—the picture must not be + over-done,'" quoted softly and a little accusingly Laura Ann. + But the Talentless One had never heard of Miss Cary's + beautiful poem, and went on calmly: + </p> + <p> + "And a—pump. Girls, if <i>I</i> find the 'Eldorado,' + there'll be a pump—painted blue!" + </p> + <p> + Here Billy woke up. There was no time to discountenance the + pump. + </p> + <p> + "Why, I believe I've been asleep!" Billy laughed restedly. + "And I've been somewhere else, too. Guess!" + </p> + <p> + "To Eldorado," someone ventured. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I have. It was the loveliest place! There weren't any + pianos or schools or photograph salons or + <i>handkerchiefs</i> in it!" + </p> + <p> + "Then we'll go there!" the Talentless One cried. + </p> + <p> + Loraine was busy cutting strips of paper. She cut four of + varying lengths and dropped them into an empty cracker-box. + </p> + <p> + "Somebody shake them up, everyone shut her eyes and draw + one," she ordered. "And the person that draws the longest + slip must be the one to find our Eldorado." + </p> + <p> + They shut their eyes and fumbled in the cracker-box. The room + was oddly quiet. Laura Ann, who always drew the fatal slip, + breathed a little hard. + </p> + <p> + But the lot fell to the Talentless One. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH2"><!-- CH2 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. + </h2> + <p> + "Why, I didn't get it!" exclaimed Laura Ann, in surprise. + "And maybe I'm not thankful! Poor T.O.!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, poor T.O.!" agreed Loraine and Billy. The honor of + drawing the longest slip was not, it appeared, a coveted one. + But T.O. actually beamed! + </p> + <p> + "Needn't anyone pity me!" she said, briskly. "I like it! You + see," she added, explanatorily, "I never did anything + remarkable before! Of course I sha'n't blame you girls any if + you shake in your shoes while I'm gone, but I'll promise to + do my little best. If you thought you could trust me—" + </p> + <p> + "We do! We do!" Loraine said, warmly, speaking for them all. + "And we pity you, too, poor dear! It looks like an awful + undertaking to me." + </p> + <p> + "How long can you take? Are you sure they'll let you get off + down at Torrey's?" asked Billy, languidly. + </p> + <p> + "Oh," the Talentless One said, calmly, "I shall get a + substitute, of course. They let the girls do that, if the + substitute suits 'em. There's a girl that used to be at the + handkerchief counter that will be glad enough to earn a + little money, I know. She'll be tickled! And she can keep the + place open for me when I get back from the country in the + fall—" Suddenly the Talentless One laughed out + joyously. "Hear me! 'When I get back from the country!' + Doesn't that sound splendid! Makes me think of cows and + chickens and strawberries and—" + </p> + <p> + "Pumps painted blue!" laughed Laura Ann. "We're in for a blue + pump, girls!" + </p> + <hr> + <p> + The substitution at the handkerchief counter could not be + arranged for at once, so the proposed voyage of discovery was + a little delayed. Meanwhile the Grand Plan and a newly-born + family of lesser plans occupied the interim of waiting. One + thing they all agreed upon. It was tired little Billy who + voiced it. + </p> + <p> + "We won't be good this summer, will we? I've been good so + long that I want to rest!" + </p> + <p> + "It would seem comfortable not to have to be, wouldn't it?" + Loraine laughed. As if Loraine could rest from being good! + "Not to have to do anything for anybody—just be good to + yourself! Now, I call that the luxury of selfishness! And + really, girls, we deserve one little luxury—" + </p> + <p> + "We'll indulge ourselves," T.O. nodded gravely. "I'm sure + I've been polite to people and patient with people long + enough to have a vacation—a summer vacation!" + </p> + <p> + "Give me a paper and pencil, somebody, quick!" This from + Laura Ann. She fell to scribbling industriously. The purring + of her pencil over the paper had a smooth, wicked sound as if + it were writing wicked things. It was. + </p> + <p> + "Be it known," read Laura Ann, flourishing her pencil, "that + we, the undersigned, having endeavored, up to the present, to + be good, consider ourselves entitled to be selfish during our + summer vacation. That we mean to be selfish—that we + herewith swear to be! That we do not mean to 'do good unto' + anybody except ourselves! Inasmuch as we have faithfully + tried to do our several duties hitherto, we feel justified in + resting from the same until such time as we + may—er—wish to begin again. + </p> + <p> + "Furthermore, resolved: That any or all persons hereunto + subscribed, who fail to keep the letter of this compact, be + summarily <i>dropped!</i>" + </p> + <p> + (Signed) "LAURA ANN BYERS." + </p> + <p> + The paper went the rounds and was soberly signed by each girl + in turn. Loraine, the last, traced three words in her tiny + handwriting at the head of the paper. + </p> + <p> + "The Wicked Compact!" read Billy over her shoulder, and + nodded agreeingly. "That's a good name for it. Doesn't it + make you feel lovely and shuddery to belong to a Wicked + Compact! Oh, you needn't think I shall go back on the rules + and regulations! If somebody gets down on his knees and + implores, 'Which note shall I flat?' I shall turn coldly + away, or else say, 'Suit yourself, my dear!' But, girls, oh + girls, I hope there won't be any pianos in Eldorado!" + </p> + <p> + "Probably there will be only cabinet organs—don't + worry, dear!" soothed Laura Ann. + </p> + <hr> + <p> + The day after the Wicked Compact was drawn up and signed, + T.O. started on her quest for Eldorado. She would have no one + escort her to the station; she would give no intimation of + her plans. They were all to wait as patiently as possible + till she came back. It was only because she had to, poor + child, that she accepted the contributions of the others + toward her expenses of travel. + </p> + <p> + At the station she straightened her short stature to its + utmost and approached the ticket window. She might have been, + from her splendid dignity of manner, six feet instead of + five. + </p> + <p> + "Will you please tell me which road is the cheapest to travel + on?" she asked, clearly, undismayed outwardly, inwardly + quailing before the ticket man's amazement. His curious eyes + surveyed her through the little opening. + </p> + <p> + "Why—er—well, there's the most competition on the + X & Y Road," he said, slowly. "The rates on that line are + about down to the limit—" + </p> + <p> + "Thank you," the dignified one said, and turned away. She + found the time table of the X & Y Road on the station + wall, and studied it thoughtfully. She had resolved to select + the place with the most promising name. Back at the ticket + window she patiently waited her turn in a little stream of + people. The woman ahead of her was flourishing a dainty, + embroidered handkerchief, and she wondered idly if it had + come from her counter at Torrey's. If so, why was it not a + little white flag of truce that gave her a right to say "How + do you do?" to the woman? The Talentless One suddenly felt a + little lonely. + </p> + <p> + "Ticket to Placid Pond, please," she said, when her turn + came. The very sound of the peaceful little name gave her + courage. Placid Pond! Placid Pond! Could any place be more + indicative of rest? Then she bethought her of the Wicked + Compact, and felt almost impelled to hand back the + ticket—Placid Pond could not be the right place to be + bad in! + </p> + <p> + But it was too late! + </p> + <p> + "Two-twenty," the ticket man said, monotonously, and she + fumbled in her lean, little purse. To Placid Pond she would + go, and, if there were barns and cornfields and a + blue-painted pump—the thrill of expectancy ran through + her veins, and she forgot the Wicked Compact. + </p> + <p> + The Talentless One had never glided through green places like + this before, between slow, clear little streams, by country + children waving their hats. She had never seen far, splendid + reaches of hills, undulating softly against the sky. Wonder + and delight filled her. She found herself envying the little, + brown children who waved their hats. + </p> + <p> + "It's pretty, ain't it?" a fresh, old voice said in her ear. + When she turned, it was to look into a fresh, old face behind + her. + </p> + <p> + "Ain't it a pretty world the Lord's made? The 'firmament + showeth his handiwork,' don't it? Where are you going to, + deary?" + </p> + <p> + "A place called Placid Pond," answered the girl, smiling + back. + </p> + <p> + "<i>No?</i> Well, I declare! That's where Emmeline Camp lives + that was a Jones an' spelt out o' my spellin'-book! If you + see Emmeline, you tell her you saw me on the cars. Emmeline + and I have always kep' up our interest in each other. She'll + be tickled—you tell her I've learnt that leaf-stitch at + last! She'll understand!" + </p> + <p> + The thin, old voice tinkled on pleasantly in the Talentless + One's ears. + </p> + <p> + "Come back here an' set with me, deary, an' I'll tell you + which house is Emmeline's, so, if you go past, you'll know + it—it's painted green! Did you ever! But Emmeline was + always set on green. She was married in a green silk, an' we + girls said she married a green husband!" + </p> + <p> + T.O. laughed enjoyingly. She began to feel acquainted with + Emmeline, and to hope she should find the green + house—perhaps it would be the Eldorado house! Wonders + happened sometimes. + </p> + <p> + "I don't suppose—there isn't a blue pump, is there? + I've set my heart on a blue pump!" she laughed, as if the + little, old woman who knew Emmeline would understand. The + little, old woman smiled delightedly—as if she + understood! + </p> + <p> + "Dear land, no! I hope Emmeline ain't painted her pump + blue—and her livin' in a green house! But she'd go out + an' do it—it would be just like Emmeline, if she knew + anybody wanted a blue pump! Here we are, deary! This is + Placid Pond we're coming to! You see that sheet o' water, + don't you? Well, that's it!" + </p> + <p> + The Talentless One buttoned her jacket and clutched her + little black bag. Her thin cheeks bloomed suddenly with tiny + red spots of excitement. She seemed on the edge of an + Adventure; and, to one who had stood behind a counter nearly + all her days, an Adventure began with a capital A. The train + slowed up and stood panting—in a hurry to go again. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I wish you were going to get out here!" T.O. said, + wistfully. + </p> + <p> + The little, old woman seemed like an old friend to her. She + felt oddly young and inexperienced. Then, remembering the + girls left behind in the B-Hive and their confidence in her, + she threw up her small head and hurried away valiantly. + </p> + <p> + "Good-by!" she called back, from the bit of platform outside. + </p> + <p> + "Good-by! Give my love to Emmeline!" nodded and beamed the + little, old face in the car window. + </p> + <p> + It was a tiny place. T.O. could see only the great, placid + sheet of water and the diminutive station at first. She + accosted the only human being in sight. + </p> + <p> + "Which way is the city—village, I mean?" she asked. + </p> + <p> + He was an old man and held a scooped palm behind his ear. + </p> + <p> + "Eh?" + </p> + <p> + "The village—please direct me to it." + </p> + <p> + "Well," he laughed good-humoredly, "all the village they is + you'll strike yonder," pointing. "You keep a-goin', an' + you'll git thar!" + </p> + <p> + She thanked him and set out courageously. She kept "a-goin'." + The country road was shady and dusty and sweet with mystic, + unseen, growing things. Her feet, used to hard pavements, + sank into the soft dust luxuriously. She breathed deep and + swung along at a splendid pace. It was hard to believe that + she was a clerk at Torrey's! There did not seem to have ever + been handkerchiefs in the world—even all-linen, + warranted ones! + </p> + <p> + "This is Eldorado!" she said aloud, and was proud of herself + for finding it so soon—coming straight to it! Lucky she + had been the one to draw the longest strip. + </p> + <p> + She passed one or two houses, but none of them were painted + green. She said to herself she would keep on to "Emmeline's" + house. The whim had seized her and was holding on tight that + Emmeline's might be the Right Place. So she swung on + buoyantly. + </p> + <!-- NOTE: Remove center tags and put align="left" or align="right" for text wrapped alignments --> + <a name="image-2"><!-- Image 2 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im2.png" height="561" width="400" alt= + "'WHICH WAY IS THE VILLAGE?' SHE ASKED."> + </center> + <p> + A stone wall bordered the road on one side, and over the wall + she spied a sprinkling of little flowers that called, "Come + and pick us!" to her. She did not know that they were bluets, + but she knew they were dainty and sweet and beckoned to her. + She paused an instant uncertainly, and then climbed the wall. + It was rather an arduous undertaking for a clerk at a + handkerchief counter, and she went about it clumsily. The + wall was high and the stones "jiggled" in a terrifying way. + One big stone climbed down on the other side with + her—they went together unceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + The Talentless One laughed a little under her breath as she + sat up among the little flowers, but she was not quite sure + that she wanted to laugh. The big stone was on her foot and + she regarded it with disfavor. It required considerable + strength to roll it off—then she got up. Then she sank + down again very suddenly. + </p> + <p> + "Oh!" she cried, sharply. For several moments she said + nothing more, did nothing more. The discovery she had made + was not a pleasant discovery. In Eldorado clumsy people who + could not climb stone walls came to grief. She had come to + grief. When she moved her foot, terrible twinges of pain were + telegraphed all over her body. She sat, a sorry little heap, + among the stranger flowers that had brought about her ruin. + The roadway stretched dustily and emptily up and down, on the + other side of the wall. + </p> + <p> + "Oh!" breathed the Talentless One. It had been a sigh before, + now it was a groan. What was she to do? A sort of terror + seized her. She had never been really frightened before. The + beautiful country about her no longer was beautiful. It was + no longer Eldorado to her. + </p> + <p> + Then she discovered a green fleck down the road, a different + green from the grass and trees. If it should be Emmeline's + house—if she could get to it! + </p> + <p> + "I must!" she said, and hobbled to her feet. Somehow she got + over the wall, and went stumbling toward the green spot. The + agony in her foot increased every moment; she grew dizzy with + it. + </p> + <p> + It must be Emmeline's house—a little, green-painted one + beside the road! There could not be two green houses in + Placid Pond. With a long breath of relief she got to the + door. After that she did not know anything for a little time, + then her eyes opened. Someone with a kind, anxious face was + bending over her. It was Emmeline! It looked like the face of + an old friend to the poor, little Talentless One. + </p> + <p> + "There, there, poor dear! Never mind where you be, or who I + be—you 'tend right to gettin' out o' your faint! Sniff + this bottle—there! You'll be all right in a minute. + It's your foot, ain't it? It's all swollen up—how'd you + sprain it?" + </p> + <p> + She had the injured foot in her tremulous old hands, gently + loosening the shoe. The girl, though she winced with pain, + did not utter a sound. + </p> + <p> + "There ain't any doctor this side of Anywhere," the kind + voice ran on, "but never you mind. I'll risk but what I've + got liniments that will doctor you up." + </p> + <p> + And the girl, looking up into the peaceful old "lineaments," + smiled faintly, and knew there was healing in them. Even in + her throbbing pain she could think of this new pun that she + would regale the girls with when she got back to + them—if she ever got back! + </p> + <p> + "You are 'Emmeline,' aren't you!" she presently questioned, + feebly, like an old woman, for the pain seemed to have made + her old. "I'm so glad you are Emmeline!" + </p> + <p> + Poor dear, she was wandering in her mind, and no wonder, with + a foot swollen up like that! It was queer, though, hitting on + the right name in that way. + </p> + <p> + "There! there! Yes, I am Emmeline, though I might've been + Sophia or Debby Jane! Namin' people is sort o' accidental. I + always wished they'd named me somethin' prettier by accident! + But I guess Emmeline will have to do." + </p> + <p> + It was long after this before any explanation was made. The + fact that it was Emmeline was enough for those first hours. + </p> + <p> + "Now, you kind of bear on to yourself, poor dear! This boot + has got to come off!" the kind voice crooned. But, in the + awful process of "bearing on," the Talentless One shot out + into the dark, as if pushed by a heavy hand. How long it was + before she came back into the light she did not know—it + seemed to be a point of light that pricked her eyes. She shut + them against it, and longed to drift away again; the dark had + been cool and pleasant. + </p> + <p> + It was a lighted lamp on a tiny, round table. She found it + out the next time she opened her eyes. She was in a little + bedroom, on the bed. The door was open, and a voice drifted + in to her: + </p> + <p> + "She was coming to beautifully when I left her. I thought + mebbe she'd feel more at home to come to alone. I've got her + ankle all dressed nice, but it would make your heart ache to + see it! The poor dear won't walk again this one while—" + </p> + <p> + "But, Emmeline Camp, what are you going to do with her all + that time?" The second voice was a little shrill. + </p> + <p> + "Sh! I'm goin' to doctor her up, just as if she was the + little girl the Lord never gave me. I've always known what + I'd do if my little girl broke anything—There! you'll + have to excuse me, Mrs. Williams, while I take this cup o'tea + in." + </p> + <p> + It is odd how many little confidences can be exchanged in the + time of cooling and drinking a cup of tea. The caller had + gone away, and the old woman and the girl were left alone. + Little by little the story of the B-Hive and the quest for an + Eldorado came out. Emmeline Camp sat and nodded, and + clandestinely wiped her eyes. + </p> + <p> + "I see—I see, deary! Now, don't you talk any more and + get faint again. I'll talk. You no need to worry about + anything in the world—not yet! When it's time to + commence, I'll tell you. How does your foot feel now? Dear, + dear! When I was fussing over it, it seemed just as if it was + my little Amelia's foot! I've always known what I'd do if she + sprained hers, and so I did it to yours, deary!" + </p> + <p> + "Is Amelia your daughter?" + </p> + <p> + The old face wavered between a smile and tears. "Yes," she + nodded, "but she warn't ever born. It's a kind of a secret + between me and the Lord. He knows I've made believe Amelia. + I've always been kind of lonesome, an' she's been a sight of + company to me. She's been a good daughter, Amelia has!" Now + it was a smile. "We've set an' sewed patchwork together, ever + since she grew up. When she was little—there, deary, + hear me run on! But you remind me so much of Amelia. You can + laugh just as much as you want to at me runnin' on like this + about a little girl that warn't ever born—mebbe + laughin' will help your foot." + </p> + <p> + She took up the empty cup and went away, but she came back + and stood a minute in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + "There's this about it," she laughed, in a tender, little + way, "if she warn't ever born, she won't ever die. I sha'n't + lose Amelia!" + </p> + <hr> + <p> + To the three girls waiting at the B-Hive came a letter. They + read it, three heads in a bunch: + </p> + <p> + "Eldorado, June 26. + </p> + <p> + "Come whenever you want to. Directions enclosed." + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH3"><!-- CH3 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. + </h2> + <p> + There was a postscript. It was like T.O. to put the most of + the letter into the postscript. + </p> + <p> + "P.S.—Never call me the Talentless One again" (as if + they ever had!), "when I came straight to the + Eldorado—tumbled right into it. I've decided to stay + here until you come—please tell my substitute so. I + know she'll be so glad she'll throw up her hat. Bring your + sheets and pillow-cases. Come by way of the X. & Y. R.R. + to a place called Placid Pond." + </p> + <p> + The three readers, bunched together over the letter, uttered + a cry of delight. "Placid Pond!"—of all the dear, + delightful, placid names! The very look of it on paper was + restful; it <i>sounded</i> restful when you said it over and + over—"Placid Pond. Placid Pond. Placid Pond." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, she's a dear—she's an <i>artist!</i>" cried Laura + Ann, who measured all things by their relationship to art. + This was an own cousin! + </p> + <p> + "Read on—somebody hold the letter still!" Billy cried + excitedly. And they read on: "Take the only road there is to + take, and keep on to a house that's painted green. It will be + Emmeline's house, though they might have named her Sophia, + she says, by accident. But you will be glad she is Emmeline. + She has a beautiful daughter that never was born and never + will die—oh, girls, come as quick as ever you can!" + </p> + <p> + Yours, "The Talented One." + </p> + <p> + "P.S. No. 2.—Don't climb any stone walls. The stones + are not stuck on." + </p> + <p> + For a tiny space the three girls looked at each other in + silence. The letter in Loraine's hand was a masterpiece, full + of enticing mysteries that beckoned to them to come and find + the "answers." What kind of an Eldorado was this that was + called Placid Pond, and was full of mysteries? How could they + wait! They must pack up and go at once! + </p> + <p> + "'Talented One,' indeed!—she's a genius! See how she's + left us to guess things, instead of explaining them all out + in a nice, tame way—oh, <i>girls</i>"—Laura Ann's + eyes shone—"won't we have the greatest time!" + </p> + <p> + "What I want to know is, who is Emmeline—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, who is Emmeline?" "And who <i>can</i> her daughter + <i>be</i>? She sounds so lovely and ghostly!" + </p> + <p> + "Everything sounds lovely and ghostly. When can we go, + girls?" This from practical Loraine. "<i>I</i> can't till + after the Fourth." + </p> + <p> + "Nor I," groaned Billy, dolefully. + </p> + <p> + "I could, but I shall not—I shall wait for you two," + Laura Ann said quietly. + </p> + <p> + Loraine turned upon her. "You needn't," she said, "now that + you've signed the compact—you can do whatever you + <i>want</i> to now, you know. Needn't think of anybody but + yourself." + </p> + <p> + "The privilege of being selfish doesn't begin till we get to + Eldorado," laughed Laura Ann. "You'll see what I do then!" + </p> + <p> + It was arranged that they should start on the fifth of July. + "With our sheets and pillow-cases," appended Billy. No one + thought of writing to T.O. for further particulars. No one + wanted further particulars. The uncertainly and mystery that + enveloped Eldorado was its greatest charm. They speculated, + to be sure, at odd moments, as to the identity of the person + who might have been Sophia but was Emmeline, and they + wrestled a little with the hidden meaning of Postscript + Number Two. Why were they especially bidden not to climb + stone walls? And <i>why</i> was the Talented One "staying + over" till they came? + </p> + <p> + "Why? Why? Why?" chanted Billy, "but don't anybody dare to + guess why! Who wants to know!" + </p> + <p> + "Not me!" echoed ungrammatically Laura Ann. + </p> + <p> + While they waited and speculated mildly, and packed and + repacked their things, T.O. lay on the bed in Emmeline Camp's + little bedroom and winced with pain whenever she moved her + wounded foot. But she was very happy. "Peace is in my soul, + if not my <i>sole!</i>" she thought, a slave still to the + punning habit. She had never been so peaceful in her life. + The little old woman who had befriended her bustled happily + in and out of the little bedroom. She bathed and rubbed the + swollen ankle, and smiled and chattered to the girl at the + other end of it. Her "lineaments" were working a cure, + surely. + </p> + <p> + It had all been decided upon. The B-Hive was to be + transplanted for the summer to the little, green-painted + house trailed over with morning-glory vines and roses. + Emmeline Camp had wanted, she said, for forty years, to go + upon a long journey, to visit her brother. Here was her + chance. The small sum she had at last consented to be paid + for the use of her little house would pay her traveling + expenses one way, at least, and John would be glad enough, + she said, to pay her fare home, to get rid of her! Only she + was quite able to pay it herself. + </p> + <p> + "I've kind of hankered to go to see John all these years. + Forty years is quite a spell to hanker, isn't it? But I never + felt like leaving the house behind, and I couldn't take it + along very conveniently, so I stayed to home. And + then—my dear, you can laugh as well as not, but I + didn't like to leave Amelia." + </p> + <p> + "But you might have taken her with—" + </p> + <p> + "No," seriously, "I couldn't 've taken Amelia. I think, + deary, it might 've killed her; she's part of the little + house and the morning-glories and roses. I'd have had to + leave Amelia if I'd gone, and it didn't seem right." + </p> + <p> + "But now—" + </p> + <p> + "Now," the little, old woman laughed in her odd, tender way + that "went with" Amelia, "now she'll have plenty of young + company—all o' you here with her. I shall make believe + she's coming and going with you, and it'll be a sight of + comfort. Yes, deary, I guess this is going to be my chance to + visit John." + </p> + <p> + "And our chance to have a summer in the country," completed + the Talented One. "Oh, I think you are—<i>dear</i>! + Whatever will the other girls say when I tell them about + you!" + </p> + <p> + One day T.O. remembered the blue pump. She gazed out of the + window at the brown one in the little yard. "Who would have + thought," she sighed, "that I could be so happy without a + blue pump!" + </p> + <p> + "What's that, deary?" The little, old woman was sewing + patchwork near by. + </p> + <p> + "Oh," laughed the girl, "I always <i>did</i> want a pump that + was painted blue. I saw a picture of one once when I was a + little mite, and it impressed me—such a lovely, bright + blue! I thought it went beautifully with the green grass! But + I can get along without it, I guess." + </p> + <p> + "We have to get along without having things painted to suit + us," nodded the little, old woman philosophically. But she + remembered the blue pump. There was a can of paint out in the + shed room, and there was Jane Cotton's Sam. + </p> + <p> + Jane Cotton's Sam was a "feature" of Placid Pond—a + whole set of features, T.O. said. He was a lumbering, awkward + fellow, well up to the end of his teens, the only hope of + widowed Jane. The Lord had given him a splendid head, but the + Placid Pond people were secretly triumphing in the knowledge + that Sam had failed to pass in his college examinations, + "head or no head." Jane had always boasted so of Sam's + brains, and predicted such a wonderful future for him! All + her soul was set on Sam's success—well, wasn't it time + her pride had a fall? Mebbe now she'd see Sam wasn't much + different from other people's boys. + </p> + <p> + Jane's heart was reported to be broken by the boy's failure, + and Sam went about sulkily defiant. He made a great pretense + of lofty indifference, but maybe he didn't care!—maybe + not! Emmeline Camp knew in her gentle old heart that he + cared. She worried about Sam. + </p> + <p> + All this the Talented One learned, little by little, in the + way country gossip is learned. She learned many other things, + too, about the neighbors—things that she lay and + pondered about. It seemed queer to find out that even a + placid little place like this, set among the peaceful hills, + had its tragedies and comedies—its pitiful little + skeletons behind the doors. + </p> + <p> + "That's Old '61," Mrs. Camp said, pointing to an old figure + in the road. "See him go marching past!—he always + marches, as if he heard drums beating and he was keeping + time. I tell 'em he <i>does</i> hear 'em. He lives all alone + up on the edge o' the woods, and folks say he spends most all + his time trying to pick march tunes out on the organ. A few + years ago he got some back pension money, and up and spent it + for a cabinet organ! Dear land! it seemed a pity, when he + might have got him some nice clothes or something sensible. + But there he sets and sets over that organ, trying to pick + out tunes! Well,"—the gentle old voice took on + charity—"well, if that's his way of being happy, I + s'pose he's got as good a right to it as I have + to—Amelia," a whimsical little smile lighting up the + old face, but underlying it the tenderness that the girl on + the bed had come to look for whenever any reference was made + to Amelia. + </p> + <p> + "We've all got our idiosyncreases," added Emmeline Camp, + "only some of 'em's creased in a little deeper'n others. I + guess mine and Old '61's are pretty considerable deep!" + </p> + <p> + The early July days were cloudless and full of hot, stinging + noises. T.O. crawled out to lie in the grass under a great + tree, and exult in room and freedom and rest. Her ankle was + still very painful, but she regarded it with philosophical + toleration: "You needn't have climbed a stone wall, need you? + Well, then, what have you to complain of? The best thing you + can do is to keep still." Which was, without doubt, the + truth. "Anyhow, it isn't becoming in you to be so puffed up!" + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mrs. Camp should start on her trip before + the other girls arrived. Hence, on the morning of the day + they had set to come, the little old woman and her bags and + bundles rode away down the dusty country road. Her lean, + brown, crumpled old face had an exalted expression; the joy + of anticipation and the triumph of patient waiting met in it + and blended oddly. It was a great day for Emmeline Camp. + </p> + <p> + "Good-by, deary. Keep right on rubbing, and don't go to + walking 'round. There's some cookies left in the cooky-crock, + and a pie or two on the shelf to kind of set you going. Take + good care o' yourselves." + </p> + <p> + "And Amelia," whispered the girl, drawing the old face down + to her. "We'll take good care of Amelia." + </p> + <p> + It was a little lonely after the old stage rumbled away. The + Talented One turned whimsically to Amelia for company. She + tried to imagine her, as the little old woman did, but in + vain. She could not conjure up the sweet, elusive face, the + hair, the eyes, the grave little mouth of Amelia. The little + old woman had taken away with her love, the key. She must + have taken Amelia away with her, too, the girl thought, + smiling at her own fancy. So, for company, she must wait + until Loraine and Billy and Laura Ann came, on the further + edge of the day. She lay in the cool grass, and made beatific + plans for all the long, lazy days to come. No hurrying, or + worrying—each one for herself, happy in her own way. + Only themselves to think of for the space of a golden summer! + </p> + <p> + "I am glad she took Amelia," the girl in the grass laughed + softly. "We'd never be able to keep to the Compact with + Amelia 'round—Amelia would never have signed a 'Wicked + Compact'!" Which, in the event of gentle, unsinning Amelia + ever having been born, might or might not have been true. It + would have been harder work, reflected the girl in the grass, + for Amelia to have been unsinning and gentle, if she had been + born. + </p> + <p> + Jane Cotton's Sam came lounging down the road, cap over one + eye, face surlily defiant. T.O. watched him with displeasure. + So that was the kind of a boy that gave up? Poor kind of a + boy! Why didn't he try it again, especially when his poor + mother's heart was breaking? Didn't he know that giving up + was worse than failing in his examinations? Somebody ought to + tell him—why, he was stopping at Mrs. Camp's little + front gate! He was coming in! + </p> + <p> + The girl lying in the long grass under the tree sat up + hurriedly. Quick, quick! what was his name? Oh, yes, Sam! + </p> + <p> + "Good-morning, Sam," she said pleasantly. But the boy, with a + mere nod of his splendidly-modeled head, hurried away toward + the tiny barn. The girl had seen the dark flush that mounted + upward from his neck over his pink and white cheeks. + </p> + <p> + "Poor thing! He knows <i>I</i> know that he didn't + pass—that is the only 'out' about living in the + country: everybody knows everything. Well, if it makes him + blush, then his mother needn't break her heart <i>yet</i>. I + like the looks of that boy, if he does go 'round scowling." + Whereupon the Talented One promptly dismissed Jane Cotton's + Sam from her meditations. It did not occur to her to question + his right to be on Mrs. Camp's premises. She lay back in the + grass and took up again the interrupted thread of her + musings. By gentle degrees odd fancies took possession of + her. + </p><a name="image-3"><!-- Image 3 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im3.png" height="570" width="400" alt= + "THE BOY, WITH A MERE NOD, HURRIED AWAY."> + </center> + <p> + The sprinkling of great, white daisies in the grass beside + her—suppose, now, this minute, they changed into white + handkerchiefs, spread out on a green counter! Then she would + have to sell them to passers-by; it was her business to sell + handkerchiefs. Someone was coming marching up the + road—suppose she tried to sell him one, for the fun of + it!—to make a good story for the girls. Laughing, she + got up and leaned on the fence. She "dared" herself to do it. + Then, courteously, "Can I sell you anything in handkerchiefs + to-day? Initialed, embroidered—" + </p> + <p> + The marching feet stopped. Shrewd old eyes studied her face + and twinkled, responsive to the harmless mischief visible in + it. + </p> + <p> + "You got any with flags on—in the corners or anywhere? + Or drums on?" It was Old '61. "Or red, white an' blue ones? + I'd like one o' <i>them</i>—I fit in the war," + explanatorily. + </p> + <p> + "Yes?" The saleswoman was not especially interested in the + war; it is not the way with many of her kind to be interested + in things. + </p> + <p> + "I fit clear through—in the Wilderness, and Bull Run, + an' plenty more. They couldn't get rid o' me, the enemy + couldn't! No, sir, where there was marchin' an' shootin', I + was bound to be there! They hit me time 'n' again, but I + didn't waste no unnecessary time in hospittles—I had to + git back to the boys." + </p> + <p> + She was interested now; she forgot she was to sell him a + handkerchief. "Go on," she said. + </p> + <p> + "It was great! You ought to heard the drums an' smelt the + smoke, an' felt your feet marchin' under you, an' your + knapsack poundin' your back—yes, sir, an' bein' hungry + an' thirsty an' wore out! You'd ought to seen how ragged the + boys got, an' heard 'em whistlin' 'Through Georgy' while they + sewed on patches—oh, you'd ought to <i>whistled</i> + 'Through Georgy'!" + </p> + <p> + The girl, watching the kindled old face, saw a shadow creep + over it. + </p> + <p> + "I useter—I useter—but someway I've lost it. It's + pretty hard to've <i>marched</i> through Georgy an' forgot + the tune about. Some days I 'most get holt of it + again—I thought I could, on the organ, but I can't, not + the hull of it. Someway I've lost it—it's pretty hard. + It ha'nts me—if you ever be'n ha'nted, you know how bad + it is." + </p> + <p> + No, the girl who was leaning on the fence had never been + ha'nted, but her eyes were wide with pity for the old soul + who had marched through Georgia and forgotten the tune. + </p> + <p> + "Some days I 'most ketch it. I don't suppose"—the old + voice halted diffidently—"I don't suppose <i>you'd</i> + whistle it, would you? Jest through once—" + </p> + <p> + But she could not whistle even once "Through Georgia." "I'm + so sorry!" she cried. "I can't whistle, or sing, or anything. + I wish I could!" She wished she were Billy; Billy could have + done it. + </p> + <p> + Old '61 marched on, up the dusty road, and the girl went back + to her tree. She had not sold any daisy-handkerchiefs, but + she had her story to tell the girls. She lay in the grass + thinking of it. Once or twice she pursed her lips and made a + ludicrous ineffectual attempt to whistle, but she did not + smile. Jane Cotton's Sam clicked the gate, going out, but she + did not notice. When she did at last look up, and her gaze + wandered over the little yard aimlessly, she suddenly uttered + a little note of surprise. + </p> + <p> + "Why!" she cried. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH4"><!-- CH4 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. + </h2> + <p> + For the pump was a blue pump! A miracle had been wrought + while she mused in the grass and listened to Old '61. The + little old brown pump had blossomed out gayly, brilliantly. + </p> + <p> + "Why!" Then a subdued chuckle reached her from some nearby + ambush out beyond the fence. She put two and two + together—the pump, the laugh, and Jane Cotton's Sam. + Six! Jane Cotton's Sam, while she was day-dreaming and + Marching through Georgia with Old '61, had painted the brown + pump blue! That was his business on Mrs. Camp's premises. Mrs + Camp had remembered—the dear, oh, the dear!—that + she wanted a blue pump, and had got the boy to come and make + one. And now, down behind the fence somewhere, the boy was + laughing at her amazement. Well, let him laugh—she + laughed, too! Suddenly she began to clap her hands by way of + applause to her hidden audience. + </p> + <p> + The pump itself was distinctly a disappointment. In gay-hued + pictures, seen by childish eyes, blue pumps accord with green + grass and trees—in nature, seen by maturer eyes, there + is something wrong with the colors. They look out of + place—either the green growing things or the gay blue + pump do not belong there. The girl's loyalty to little, kind + Emmeline Camp would not let her admit that it was the blue + pump that didn't "belong." She was glad—glad—that + it was blue, for it stood for a thoughtful kindness to her, + and thoughtful kindnesses had been rare in her + self-dependent, hustling life. + </p> + <p> + "Hurrah for the blue pump!" she cried softly. She felt like + going up to it and hugging it, but fortunately she did not + yield to the impulse. + </p> + <p> + The other girls arrived at dusk. T.O., her knee in a chair, + had hitched laboriously from little kitchen to little + dining-room and got supper. Spent and triumphant, she waited + in the doorway. She could hear their voices coming up the + road—Billy's excited voice, Laura Ann's gay one, + Loraine's calm and sweet. She longed to run out to meet them. + Next best, she sent her own voice, in a clear, long call. + </p> + <p> + "That's T.O.! Girls, let's run!" she heard Billy say. + </p> + <p> + "Why doesn't <i>she</i> run?" Laura Ann demanded severely. + "That would be perfectly appropriate under the + circumstances." + </p> + <p> + "'Tis queer, isn't it, that she didn't come to meet us?" + Loraine added. In another moment they had reached Emmeline + Camp's little green-painted house and found the Talented One + waiting impatiently at the gate. Things explained themselves + rapidly. Exclamations of pity crowded upon exclamations of + delight and welcome. Four happy young wage-earners sat down + to T.O.'s hardly-prepared little supper and four tongues were + loosed. Even Loraine did her part of the chattering. + </p> + <p> + "I feel so nice and <i>placid</i> already!" enthused Billy. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, so do I!—so do I!" echoed Laura Ann. "It's such a + comfort to get one's chains off!—I felt mine slip off + back there at that dear, funny little station." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, was <i>that</i> what I heard clanking?" offered quiet + Loraine, and was promptly cheered. + </p> + <p> + The meal was a merry one. And afterwards there was exploring + to be done about the little yard and orchard and up and down + the road, in the dim, sweet twilight, with the Talented One + at the gate calling soft directions. + </p> + <p> + "And I've got a blue pump for you," she laughed. "Just wait + till daylight! Don't anybody feel of it in the dark to see if + it's blue, because you'll find it's green! There's a story + goes with the pump and one with its mother—I mean with + the boy-who-painted-its mother! Placid Pond is full of + stories." + </p> + <p> + "Nice, dozy, placid ones, I suppose," Laura Ann returned + lightly. But the Talented One shook her head. + </p> + <p> + "Wait till you hear them," she said gravely. + </p> + <p> + "Give us some of the titles to-night," coaxed Billy. They + were all back on the little doorsteps and the moon was + rising, majestic and golden, behind the trees. + </p> + <p> + "Well—" she considered thoughtfully, "there's 'The + Story of Amelia', and the story of 'The Boy Who Didn't Pass', + and the one of 'Old '61'—", + </p> + <p> + "Oh, tell us—tell us!" Billy pleaded, and would not be + refused. It was never easy to refuse Billy. She had her way + this time, and there in the mellow night-light, with soft + night-noises all about them, T.O. told her stories. She had + never told a story before in her life, and her voice at first + stumbled diffidently, but as she went on, a queer thing + happened—she did not seem to be telling it herself, but + the little old woman who loved Amelia seemed to be telling + it! Then the Boy Who Didn't Pass, then Old '61, in his + tremulous, halting old voice. + </p> + <p> + They listened in perfect silence, and even after the stories + ended they said nothing. Billy, quite unashamed, was crying + over poor Old '61. + </p> + <p> + "You'd have thought, wouldn't you," T.O. murmured after a + while, "that places like this would be humdrum-y and + commonplace? But I guess there are 'stories' everywhere. I'm + beginning to find out things, girls." + </p> + <p> + The next day began in earnest the long-yearned-for time of + rest. It was decided unanimously over the breakfast cups, to + live and move, eat and all but sleep, out of doors. To devote + four separate and four combined energies to having a good + time. To abide by the rules and regulations of the Wicked + Compact—long live the Wicked Compact! Laura Ann made an + illuminated copy of it, framed it in a border of + hurriedly-painted forget-me-nots and hung it on the screen + door, where they could not help seeing it and "remembering + their vows," Laura Ann said. It was a matter of gay + conjecture with them who would be the first to break the + Compact. + </p> + <p> + "And be driven out of the B-Hive—not I!" Billy said + decisively. "I shan't have the least temptation to break it, + anyway—I feel selfish all over! You couldn't drive me + to do a good deed with a—a pitchfork!" + </p> + <p> + "Me either—not even with a darning-needle!" laughed + Laura Ann. "If anybody asks me to lend her a pin, hear me + say, 'Can't, my dear; it's against the rules.' Needn't + anybody worry about losing me out o' the Hive!" + </p> + <p> + "Loraine will be the one—you see," T.O. said lazily. + "And what I want to know is, how are we going to live without + Loraine? I vote we append a by-law. By-law I.: 'Resolved, + that we except Loraine—just Loraine.'" + </p> + <p> + "Second the motion," murmured Billy, on her back in the + grass, nibbling clover heads. + </p> + <p> + "No," Loraine said severely, "I refuse to be put into a + by-law." + </p> + <hr> + <p> + The summer days were long days—lazy, somnolent days. + The four girls spent them each in her own separate way. + Sometimes the little colony met only at mealtimes—with + glowing reports of the mornings' or afternoons' wanderings. + </p> + <p> + Billy, it was noticed, although like the rest she wandered + abroad, made no reports. Had she had a good time? + Yes—yes, of course. Where had she been all the morning + or all the afternoon? Oh—oh, to places. Woods? + Yes—that is, almost woods. And more than that they + failed to elicit. Nearly every day she started away by + herself, and after awhile they noticed that she went in the + same direction. She went briskly, alertly, like one with a + definite end in view. Now, where did Billy go? Their vagrant + curiosity was aroused, but not yet to the point of + investigation. + </p> + <p> + Old '61 knew. Every morning since that first morning he had + strained his dim old eyes to catch a glimpse of a little + figure coming blithely up the road. On that first morning it + had stopped in front of his little house and said pleasant + things to him as he sat on the doorsteps. He remembered all + the things. + </p> + <p> + "Good-morning! It's a splendid day, isn't it?" + </p> + <p> + And: "What a perfectly lovely place you live in! With the + woods so near you can shake hands with them out of your + windows!" + </p> + <p> + And: "Don't the birds wake you up mornings? I wonder what + they sing about up here." Then she had glanced at his ancient + army coat and added the Pleasantest Thing Of All: "I think + they must sing Battle Hymns and Red, White and Blue songs and + 'Marching Through Georgia,' don't they?" + </p> + <p> + "Not the last one," he had answered sadly. "They never sing + that. If they did, I'd 'a' learnt it of 'em long ago." + </p> + <p> + "Do you like that one best—very best?" she had asked, + and he liked to remember how she had smiled. He had stood up + then and thrown back his old shoulders proudly. + </p> + <p> + "Why, you see, marm," he had said simply, "I <i>marched</i> + through Georgy!" + </p> + <p> + The next morning, too, she had stopped and talked to him. But + it was not until the third time that he had ventured to ask + her to whistle it. And then—Old '61, now peering down + the road for the blithe little figure, thrilled again at the + remembrance of what had happened. She had laughed gently and + said she did not know how to whistle, but if he would like + her to sing it— + </p> + <p> + There had been eight mornings all told, now, counting this + morning, which was sure to be. Yes, clear 'way down there + somebody was comin' swingin' along—somebody little an' + happy an' spry. Old '61 began to laugh softly. He could + hardly wait for her to come and sit down on the doorstep and + sing it. Two or three times—she would sing it two or + three times. + </p> + <p> + He had a surprise for her this morning. With great pains he + had dragged his cabinet organ out onto the little porch. It + was all open, ready. He went a little way down the road in + his eagerness to meet her. + </p> + <p> + "Good-morning!" Billy called brightly. "Am I late to-day?" + </p> + <p> + "Jest a little—jest a little," he quavered joyously, + "but I'll forgive ye! There's somethin' waitin' up + there—I've got a surprise for ye!" + </p> + <p> + "Honest?" Billy stood still in the road, looking into the + eager, childish old face. "Oh, goody! I love surprises. Am I + to guess it?" + </p> + <p> + "No, no, jest to come an' play on it!" he quavered. Then a + cloud settled over his face and dimmed the delight in it. + "Mebbe you don't know how to?" he added, a tremulous upward + lift to his voice. + </p> + <p> + "How to 'play on' a surprise!" cried Billy. "Well, how am I + to know until I see it? I can play on 'most everything else!" + </p> + <p> + They had got to the little front gate—were going up the + little carefully-weeded path—were very close to it now. + Billy sprang up the steps. + </p> + <p> + "I can! I can!" she laughed. "Hear me!" Her fingers ran up + and down the keys, then settled into a soft, sweet little + melody. Another and another— + </p> + <p> + The old man on the lower step sat patiently listening and + waiting. If she did not play it soon, he should have to ask + her to, but he would rather have her play it without. Perhaps + the next one— + </p> + <p> + The next one was beautiful, but not It—not + <i>It</i>—not the Right One. + </p> + <p> + "There!" finished Billy with a flourish. "You see, I + <i>can</i> play on a surprise!" She stopped abruptly at sight + of the disappointed old face below her. For an instant she + was bewildered, then a beautiful instinct that had lain + unused on some shelf of Billy's mind came to life and + whispered to her what the trouble was. + </p> + <p> + "Oh!" she cried softly, "Oh, I'm sorry I forgot!" She turned + back to the little organ and began to play again. + </p><a name="image-4"><!-- Image 4 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im4.png" height="567" width="400" alt= + "THE OLD MAN SAT LISTENING AND WAITING."> + </center> + <p> + Up went the sagging old head, up the sagging old shoulders! + Old '61 was back in "Georgy," marching through mud and + pine-barrens, in cold and hunger and weariness—with the + boys, from Atlanta to the sea. Hurrah! hurrah! the flag that + made them free! + </p> + <p> + He was not old, not alone and forlorn and cumbering the + earth. He was young and straight and loyal, defying suffering + and death, with glory and fame, perhaps, on there ahead. His + country needed him—he was marching through Georgia for + his country. + </p> + <p> + Billy played it over and over, untiring. A lump grew in her + throat at the sight of the old face down there on the lower + step. For so much was written on the old face! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Old '61 got up and began to march, swinging his old + legs out splendidly. Down the walk, down the road, he went, + as far as the music went, then came marching splendidly back. + Head up, shoulders squared, the "boys" marching invisible + beside him and before him and behind him, he was no longer + Old '61, but Young '61. + </p> + <p> + The next day Billy ate her breakfast quietly, helped clear + away the things, and went quietly away. She did not stop to + read Laura Ann's gay-painted "Compact" on the screen door. It + might even have been noticed, if anyone cared to notice, that + she did not look at it, that she hurried a little through the + door, as if to avoid it. + </p> + <p> + Old '61 was waiting at the gate. She smiled at the eager + invitation she read in his face. + </p> + <p> + "No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis, "no, I'm not + going to play it this time. I'm going to teach you to play + it! I shall be going back to the city before long, and then + what will you do when you want to hear it? Perhaps you + couldn't keep the tune in your head. I'm going to show you an + easy way to play it—just the air. I shall have to try + it myself first, of course. But I'm sure you can learn how, + if you'll practice faithfully." It was queer how her + music-teacher tone crept back into her voice. She laughed to + herself to hear it. "Practice faithfully" sounded so natural + to say! + </p> + <p> + She sat down at the organ and experimented thoughtfully, + trying to reduce the old man's beloved tune to its very + lowest terms. After quite a long time she nodded and smiled. + </p> + <p> + Then began Old '61s music lessons. It was terrible work, like + earning a living with the sweat of the brow. But the two of + them—the young woman and the old man—bent to it + heroically. For an hour, that first time, the cramped old + fingers felt their way over the keyboard; for an hour Billy + bent over them, patiently pointing the way. She had forgotten + that she was not to think of piano-notes now—that she + had signed the Wicked Compact. She had forgotten everything + but her determination to teach Old '61 to play "Marching + through Georgia." And Old '61 had, in his turn, forgotten + things—that he was old, alone, a cumberer, everything + but his determination to learn It. + </p> + <p> + It was not a scientific lesson. It did not begin with first + principles and creep slowly upward; it began in the middle, + in a splendid, haphazard, ambitious way. The stiff old hands + were gently placed in position for the first notes of the + tune, the stiff old fingers were pressed gently down, one at + a time. Over and over and over the process was repeated. It + was learning by sheer brute patience and love. + </p> + <p> + "That's all for the first lesson," Billy announced at the end + of the hour. "You've got those first notes well enough to + practice them. To-morrow we'll go a little bit farther." But + she did not know the long, patient hours between now and then + that the old man would "practice," crooked painfully over the + keys. She did not reckon on the miracle that might be wrought + out of intense desire. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Old '61 at the gate proclaimed proudly: + </p> + <p> + "I've got it! I've got it! I can play an' sing fur as we've + b'en! It's ringin' in my head all the time." + </p> + <p> + "Did the birds wake you up singing it?" Billy asked, + smilingly. She, herself, was all eagerness to learn of her + pupil's progress. The lesson began at once. Already, she + found, the miracle had begun to work. The old man sat down to + the organ with a flourish that, if it had not been full of + pathos, would have been a little comedy act. After a brief + preliminary search the old fingers found their place and + pounded out triumphantly the few notes they had been taught. + </p> + <p> + "Good! good!" applauded the teacher heartily. "Why, you do it + splendidly! Now we'll go on a little farther—this + finger on this note, this one here, your thumb <i>here</i>." + She stationed them carefully and the second lesson began. It + was nearer two hours than one when it ended. + </p> + <hr> + <p> + "Where have <i>you</i> been, Billy?" Loraine asked at lunch. + They had all been describing their individual pursuits and + experiences of the morning. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, to a place," answered Billy lightly. + </p> + <p> + "What place?" Loraine persisted curiously. + </p> + <p> + "Well," laughed Billy, "if you must know, I've been marching + through—oh, a <i>place</i>!" she concluded hastily, + repenting herself. "It was a pretty hard place, and I'm + hungry as a bear. Wish somebody'd say, 'Won't you have + another piece of pie?'" + </p> + <p> + "Won't you have another piece of pie?" laughed Loraine, and + nothing further was said of an embarrassing nature. + </p> + <p> + The summer days grew into summer weeks. Patiently and + joyously Old '61 plodded his way to the sea. He practiced + nearly all his waking hours, and when he was not at the + little organ, practicing, he went about humming the beloved + words. Pride and love, rather than any melody of his cracked + old voice, made a tune of them. + </p> + <p> + His progress astonished his teacher. Her praise was impetuous + enough for further and greater exertions. One day Billy said + the next time should be an exhibition, when he should play it + all—from "Atlanta to the sea"—with her as + audience, not helping, but sitting in a chair listening. + </p> + <p> + She came to the Exhibition in a white dress, with sweet-peas + at her waist. Her smiles at the foot of the steps changed to + something like a sob when she discovered that Old '61 had + been decorating the organ and the little porch. He, himself, + was brushed and radiant, his old face the face of a little + child. + </p> + <p> + "The audience will sit on the steps," Billy said, a little + tremulously. "Right here. Make believe I'm rows and rows of + people! Now will you please favor us by 'Marching through + Georgia'?". + </p> + <p> + He went at once to the little gayly-bedecked instrument and + began to play. The dignity and pride of the shabby old figure + redeemed its shabbiness—the fervor of the pounded notes + redeemed the tune. The audience—in "rows and + rows,"—listened gravely, and at the end burst into + genuine applause. The sound swelled and multiplied oddly, and + then they saw the three figures at the gate who had listened, + too. Billy was discovered! + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH5"><!-- CH5 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. + </h2> + <p> + They escorted Billy home. It was rather a silent walk until + the end. Loraine spoke first. + </p> + <p> + "One less in the B-Hive," she said sadly. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I suppose I'm dropped now," responded Billy, not + uncheerfully. "Of course I've got to take the consequences of + my—my crime. But I don't care!" she added with + vivacity. "I'd rather live alone in a ten-story house than + have missed that Exhibition!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," mused Laura Ann thoughtfully, "it was a beautiful one. + I'm glad <i>I</i> didn't miss it. When I think of what it + stood for—" + </p> + <p> + She broke off suddenly and slipped her hand into Billy's arm. + Another short silence. Then Laura Ann finished: "All the work + and patience it stood for, day after day—girls, when I + think of that I feel—" + </p> + <p> + "I know—all of us know," T.O. hastily interposed. + "That's about the way we all feel, I guess. No use talking + about it, though. Billy's broken the Compact and we're under + oath to drop her." + </p> + <p> + "Not till we go back to work," Loraine put in emphatically, + "and then she can live next door and come in every night to + tea! There's nothing in the Compact against that, is there? + Well, then, I invite you, Billy, for the very first tea!" + </p> + <p> + "I accept!" laughed Billy. She did not seem at all depressed. + In her ears rang the pounding refrain of Old '61 marching + through Georgia. + </p> + <p> + Nothing more was said on this subject. A little picnic had + been planned for the afternoon, and they went briskly about + making preparations for it, as soon as they got back to Mrs. + Camp's little green house. While they worked they discussed + Amelia. + </p> + <p> + "If she hadn't gone with her mother we'd have taken her to + the picnic with us," the Talented One said, over her + egg-beating. "I wonder if Amelia likes picnics?" + </p> + <p> + "Don't! You make me feel creepy," Laura Ann laughed. "What + <i>I</i> wonder is how she'd have looked if she'd ever been + born. I lay awake one night trying to imagine Amelia." + </p> + <p> + "Blue eyes and golden hair," Loraine chimed in dreamily, "and + a little dimple in her chin." + </p> + <p> + "You needn't any of you lie awake nights imagining. I can + tell you," the Talented One said. "She has blue eyes, but her + hair is brown and the dimples are in her cheeks. Her hair + just waves a little away from the parting—it is always + parted. She sits very still, sewing patchwork—her + mother told me," added the Talented One quietly. "She said + she wished she knew how to paint so she could paint Amelia's + picture. She told me where she'd like to have it + hung—here in the dining-room, between the windows. + Amelia'd always been very real, she said, but the picture + would make her realer." + </p> + <p> + "Did she ever say what kind of dresses Amelia wears?" asked + Laura Ann without looking up from her stirring. + </p> + <p> + "No, I never asked, but they must be white dresses, I + think,—Amelia is such an innocent little thing," + laughed T.O. softly. It was odd how they always laughed or + talked softly when it was about little make-believe Amelia. + </p> + <p> + The picnic was in the woods, in a lovely little spot Loraine + had discovered in her wanderings. A brook babbled noisily + through the spot. They spread their lunch at the foot of a + forest giant and ate it luxuriously to the tune the brook + sang. It was hard to believe they had ever been toilers in a + great city. + </p> + <p> + "There never were any public schools," murmured Loraine, + lying back and gazing into the thick mesh of leaves overhead. + "Nobody ever said 'Teacher! Teacher!' to me." + </p> + <p> + "There never were any negatives to be 'touched + up'—nobody ever had their pictures taken," Laura Ann + murmured, dreamy, too. "I've always been here beside this + brook, lying on my back—what a beautiful world it's + always been!" + </p> + <p> + The Talented One sat rigidly straight. "There have always + been handkerchiefs," she sighed, "and there always will be. I + shall have to go back there and sell them. When I look at all + these leaves, it reminds me—there are leaves on + handkerchiefs, straggling round the borders—ugh!" + </p> + <p> + It was foolish talk, perhaps, but it was the place and the + time for foolish talk. After a little more of it they drifted + apart, wandering this way and that in a delightful, aimless + way. So little of their four lives had been aimless or + especially delightful that they reveled in the sweet + opportunity. Loraine wandered farthest. She came after awhile + to a clearing where a small pond glimmered redly with the + parting rays of the sun. A great boy lounged beside the pond + dangling a pole. Loraine recognized him as Jane Cotton's Sam. + </p> + <p> + "Oh!" she said, "now I've made a noise and scared away your + fish!" + </p> + <p> + "Ain't any fish," muttered the boy. He did not turn around. + The pole slanted further and further, till it lay on the bank + beside the boy. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, maybe there are, if you wait long enough—and + nobody comes crashing through the bushes! I don't + suppose—I mean if you are not going to use it any more + yourself—" Loraine looked toward the idle pole. "I + never fished in my life," she explained. The boy understood + with remarkable quickness. + </p> + <p> + "You mean you'd like to try it?" he asked, and this time + turned round. It was not at all a bad face on close + inspection, Loraine decided. The veil of sullenness had + lifted a little. + </p><a name="image-5"><!-- Image 5 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im5.png" height="570" width="400" alt= + " [Illustration: 'I NEVER FISHED IN MY LIFE,' SHE EXPLAINED.]"> + </center> + <p> + "Oh, but I just would! Only if I should have an accident and + catch anything, whatever would I do! They—they are + always cold and clammy, aren't they?" + </p> + <p> + Jane Cotton's Sam laughed outright, and Loraine decided that + it was a very good face. + </p> + <p> + "I'll 'tend to all you catch," the boy said. He was busily + baiting the hook; now he extended the pole to her. + </p> + <p> + "Wiggle it—up and down a little, like this," he + directed, "and don't make any more noise than you can help. + If you feel a bite, let me know." + </p> + <p> + "But I don't see how I can feel a bite unless they bite + me—" + </p> + <p> + Again the boy laughed wholesomely. They were getting + acquainted. The fishing began, and for what seemed to her a + long time Loraine sat absolutely still, dangling the pole. + Nothing happened for a discouraging while. Then Loraine + whispered: "I feel a bite, but it's on my wrist! If it's a + mosquito I wish you would 'shoo' it off." + </p> + <p> + Another wait. Then a real bite in the right place. In another + moment Loraine landed a wriggling little fish in the grass. + She did not squeal nor shudder, but sat regarding it with + gentle pride. + </p> + <p> + "Poor little thing! I suppose I ought to put you back, but + you're my first and only fish, and I've <i>got</i> to carry + you home for the girls to see. You'll have to forgive me this + time!" She turned to the boy. "I suppose he ought to be + dressed, or undressed, or something, before he's fried, + oughtn't he? I thought I'd like to fry him for breakfast, to + surprise the girls—" + </p> + <p> + "I'll dress him for you," Jane Cotton's Sam said eagerly, + "and bring him over in the morning in plenty o' time." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you," Loraine said heartily. "Now you'll have to let + me do something for you. 'Turn about is fair play.' Couldn't + I—" She hesitated, looking out over the still reddened + water rather than at the boy's face. "Couldn't I help you in + some way with your studies? That's my business, you know. It + would really be doing me a kindness, for I may get all out of + practice unless I teach somebody something!" Had Loraine, + too, forgotten the Compact on the screen door? + </p> + <p> + The boy fidgeted, then burst out angrily: "I s'pose they've + all been telling you I failed up in my exams? They have, + haven't they? You <i>knew</i> it, didn't you?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," Loraine answered quietly. "But I've heard a good many + worse things in my life. I've heard of boys that smoked and + drank and—and <i>stole</i>. What does missing a few + examinations amount to beside things like those?" But the boy + did not seem to have been listening to anything except his + own angry thoughts. All his sun-browned young face was + flooded with red; he had run his fingers through his hair + till it stood up fiercely. + </p> + <p> + "They needn't trouble themselves 'bout me, nor you needn't, + nor anybody needn't!" he declaimed loudly. "Anybody'd think + they were saints themselves!" + </p> + <p> + "And <i>I</i> was a saint and everybody was saints!" laughed + Loraine softly. But Jane Cotton's Sam did not laugh. He went + striding away into the woods, his head flung up high. Loraine + and the little dead fish were left behind. Oddly the girl was + not thinking of the boy's rudeness in return for her kind + offer of help, but of the flash of spirit in his eyes. It + augured well for him, she was thinking, for spirit was + spirit, although "gone wrong." In the right place, it should + spur him on to a second attempt to get into college. What if + she were to persist in her offer—were to work with him, + urge him to work with her? + </p> + <p> + But he had chosen to spurn her advances. She shook her head + sadly. On his own head be it. She turned her attention to the + little dead fish. + </p> + <p> + "You poor dear, you look so dead and forlorn—what am I + going to do with you? Someway you've got to go home with me + and be fried." She took him up gingerly, but dropped him + again—he was so slippery and damp! Wrap him in her + handkerchief? But she had no pocket and she could never, + never carry him in her sleeve which she had adopted as a + pocket. So then she must leave him, must she? Poor little + useless sacrifice! + </p> + <p> + Back at the picnic spot the girls were waiting for her. They + went home in the late, sweet twilight. + </p> + <p> + A letter was tucked under the screen door where some friendly + neighbor had left it. "Miss Thomasia O. Brown," Billy read + aloud, and waved the letter in triumph, for the secret was + out. The 'T' in T.O. stood for Thomasia! + </p> + <p> + "Well?" bristled the Talented One, "it had to stand for + something, didn't it? It's awful, I know, but <i>I'm</i> not + to blame—I didn't name myself, did I? I wish people + could," she added with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + "Is it for a <i>Thomas?</i>" questioned Laura Ann curiously. + </p> + <p> + Thomasia nodded: "There was always a Thomas in the family + until they got to me. They did the best they could to make me + one." She was opening the letter with careful precision. + "Why, of course, it's from Mrs. Camp!" she cried delightedly. + </p> + <p> + "My dear, I hope you are well and your friends have come, and + Jane Cotton's Sam has not forgotten to paint the pump. I + arrived here safely after a very long journey—my dear, + I never dreamed the world was so big! This part of it is well + enough, but give me Placid Pond! Now I am going to tell you + something, and you may laugh all you're a mind to—I + sha'n't hear! What I'm going to tell is, <i>Amelia came</i>, + too. After I'd got good and settled down on the cars I looked + up and knew she was sitting right opposite, on the seat I'd + turned over. She seemed <i>there</i>—and you may laugh, + my dear. I laughed, I was so pleased to have Amelia along. + John doesn't know she came—Amelia never makes a mite of + trouble! But everywhere I go she goes, my dear. I shouldn't + tell you if I didn't feel you'd understand. If he hasn't + painted it yet, the blue paint is on a shelf in the + woodhouse, and you can paint it. I'm afraid Jane Cotton's Sam + won't ever amount to much. Poor Jane!" + </p> + <p> + Thomasia read the letter aloud, and at this point Loraine + interposed warmly: "Jane Cotton's Sam is abused! It's a shame + everybody groans over him—<i>I</i> like him. If there + isn't a lot of good in him, then I don't know how to read + human nature, that's all." + </p> + <p> + The next morning very early someone knocked at the kitchen + door. It was Laura Ann's turn to make the fire, and she + answered the knock. Jane Cotton's Sam stood on the steps + outside. He had a mysterious little package in his hand. He + looked up eagerly, but it was evident from the disappointed + look on his face that Laura Ann was the wrong girl. And he + did not know the right one's name! + </p> + <p> + "Good-morning!" nodded Laura Ann, sublimely unconscious of + the soot-patch over her nose. + </p> + <p> + "Good-morning. I'd like to see—I've brought something + for the one that teaches school." + </p> + <p> + "Loraine? But she isn't up yet—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I am up, too," called a voice overhead, "but I won't be + long! I'll be <i>down</i>." + </p> + <p> + It was a little fish, dressed and ready to fry, that was in + the tiny bundle. The boy extended it blushingly. Then his + eyes lifted to Loraine's in frank petition for pardon. + </p> + <p> + "I was mighty rude," he said. "I went back to the pond to say + so, but you were gone. I beg your pardon." + </p> + <p> + She liked the tone of his voice and his good red blushes. + "That's all right," she nodded reassuringly. But he did not + go away. There was something else. + </p> + <p> + "If—you know what you said? If you'd offer + <i>again</i>—" + </p> + <p> + Loraine glanced over her shoulder. Laura Ann was rattling + stove-lids at the other end of the kitchen. "I offer + <i>now</i>," Loraine said in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + "Then I accept." The boy's voice was eager. "I'll study like + everything! I thought about it in the night—I thought + I'd like to surprise my mother. If I could get into college + next year—" His eyes shone. "Oh I say, I'd do 'most + anything for that!" + </p> + <p> + The little plan was hurriedly made, in low tones, there on + Emmeline Camp's little doorsteps. The boy was to take his + books to the pond where Loraine had caught her fish. He was + to study there alone for a time every day, and in the + afternoon she was to stroll that way and go over the work + with him and set him right in all the wrong places. + </p> + <p> + "It was in Latin and mathematics I failed up," Jane Cotton's + Sam explained. + </p> + <p> + "It's Latin and mathematics we'll tackle!" softly laughed + Loraine. "You wait—you see—you <i>grind!</i>" + </p> + <p> + He strode away, whistling, and the tune was full of courage + and determination. Loraine smiled as she listened. She stood + a moment, then opened the screen door and went in. The + "Compact" swung and tilted with the jolt of her energetic + movements. She adjusted it with a queer little smile. + </p> + <p> + For summer days on summer days the covert, earnest lessons + went on beside the bit of sunny water. Teacher and pupil + pored intently over the problems and difficult passages, and + steadily the pupil's courage grew. The old sullen look had + vanished—Jane Cotton's Sam put on manliness and a + splendid swing to his shoulders. In her heart Loraine + exulted. What if she were disobeying the Compact—death + to the Wicked Compact! + </p> + <p> + Laura Ann suspected, but for reasons of her own kept her own + counsel. She had begun to suspect, when Jane Cotton's Sam + brought the little fish. At that time the "reasons of her + own" had begun to influence her and she had omitted to + mention to Billy and T.O. that the boy had stood on the + doorsteps in earnest conversation with Loraine. Mentioning it + to Billy might not, indeed, have mattered, since Billy was + already an "outsider." But Loraine might not want T.O. to + know, anyway. + </p> + <p> + It was significant that Laura Ann, in going in and out, now + chose to ignore the gayly-illuminated placard that swung on + the door—that she herself had adorned and hung there. + But she did not go in and out as much now; for whole mornings + she slipped away to a little attic room upstairs and busied + herself alone. + </p> + <p> + It was getting grievously near the time to go back to the + great city again. Emmeline Camp was coming back then. + </p> + <p> + All but T.O. mourned audibly the rapidly lessening days, but + T.O. made no useless laments. One day she surprised them. + </p> + <p> + "Girls, I <i>want</i> to go back!" she announced. "I shall be + ready when it's time—now anybody can say what anybody + pleases. Scoff at me—do. I expect it! But I'm getting + homesick to see a street-car and a—a policeman! It's + lovely and peaceful here, but I've had my fill of it + now—I want to go home and bump into crowds and hear + big, stirry noises. It's different with you girls—you + weren't born in the city; you didn't play with street-cars + and policemen and get sung to sleep by the noises! I was + tired—tired—and now I'm rested. I've had a + perfectly beautiful time, but I shall be ready to go back. + Honestly, girls, it would break my heart not to!" + </p> + <p> + It was so much like T.O., Billy said, to keep all her + feelings to herself and then suddenly spring them on people + like that, and take people's breath away. Billy did not keep + things to herself. + </p> + <hr> + <p> + Jane Cotton came up the kitchen path one day when all but + Loraine were sitting on the doorsteps—Loraine had + strolled nonchalantly down the street as her afternoon habit + was. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I've found out!" announced Jane Cotton. She was + beaming; her sallow face was oddly cleared and + lighted—her lips trembled with eagerness to deliver her + news. "I've <i>found out</i>! Where's the rest o' you?" She + counted them over. "It's the rest o' you I want—well, + you tell her I've found out. Tell her I hardly slept a wink + last night, I was so happy! Tell her I <i>bless</i> her, and + I know the Lord will. They didn't want me to know yet but I + couldn't help finding out. And they won't mind when they know + how happy it's made me—oh, I ain't afraid but he'll + pass this time! I know he will—I know it! You tell her + she's saved my boy." And without further delay the slender + figure turned and walked jubilantly down the path. It was as + if she marched to the melody of the joy in her heart. + </p> + <p> + They looked at each other silently, then at the Wicked + Compact behind them. There did not seem any explanation + needed. + </p> + <p> + "Another one dropped," murmured T.O. sighingly. But Laura Ann + said nothing. + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p><a name="CH6"><!-- CH6 --></a> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. + </h2> + <p> + Laura Ann stole quietly away and went upstairs to the little + attic room. Close by the window was a rough little easel + arrangement with a picture on it. Laura Ann stood regarding + it thoughtfully. "I wonder"—she smiled at the whimsy of + the thought—"I wonder if it looks like Amelia," she + murmured. + </p> + <p> + It was not a wonderful picture. No committee would have hung + it on a "line." There were rather glaring errors in it of + draughtsmanship and coloring. But the face of the girl in it + was appealingly sweet—brown hair, blue eyes, little + round chin. Laura Ann had not dared to put in the dimples. + </p> + <p> + "Dimples need a master," she said, "besides, they only show + when you smile, and I don't believe Amelia smiles very + often!" + </p> + <p> + She sat down and took up a brush. The picture was nearly + done, but she found touches to be added here and there. There + might be a stray lock—there, like that. And a little + bit more shade under the chin, and the wistful droop of the + mouth relieved, oh, a very little bit! Amelia looked so + serious. + </p> + <p> + "Poor little thing! Well, it's a serious matter to be a + dream-child, with not an ounce of good red blood in your + veins." + </p> + <p> + Laura Ann meant to slip back after they had started for the + station, on the last day, and hang the picture in the little + sunny dining-room. She did not want the girls to know there + was a picture. But still—a new thought had begun to + obtrude itself unwelcomely. Was painting Amelia's portrait a + breach, too, of the Compact? She had undertaken it as a + little "offering" to Mrs. Camp, to show her own individual + gratitude for her own share of the dear little green cottage + all these beautiful weeks—T.O. had said Mrs. Camp had + longed for a picture. But the fact that it had taken many + patient hours of work "unto others," was not to be + overlooked. If it had broken the rules of the Wicked Compact, + and she went back to the B-Hive without letting the girls + know of it—oh, hum! of course that would be another + "wicked compact"! She would have to let them know—and + she didn't want to let them know—oh, dear! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Laura Ann dropped her paints and gave herself up to + laughter. She had remembered that only T.O.—Thomasia + O.—would be left now in the B-Hive! For all the rest + had broken the Compact. Thomasia O., living all alone in the + dear, shabby little rooms, presented a funny picture, for of + them all she was least fitted to live alone. Even Billy could + do better. + </p> + <p> + "The rest of us will live together," laughed Laura Ann. + "There's nothing to prevent that, if we live outside the old + B-Hive. We'll start a new B-Hive! Poor Thomasia O.!" + </p> + <p> + They would miss T.O. very much indeed—well, they could + invite her in to tea and keep her all night! In spite of the + wicked old Compact, they would keep together. "And we'll + never," vowed Laura Ann for them all, "sign any more + nefarious bonds!" + </p> + <p> + She hung the picture of Amelia on the wall when they were all + away, and then went away herself. She stayed away until + nearly dark. Thomasia O. went to meet her. + </p> + <p> + "I knew it all the time," she said quietly, without preface + of any kind. "It's a perfect likeness." + </p> + <p> + "You knew it?" said Laura Ann. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, I was prowling 'round one day, to see what attics were + like, and I found Amelia. Only her hair and her eyes, then, + but I knew her. I'm so glad poor Mrs. Camp will have that + picture to help her bear her troubles!" + </p><a name="image-6"><!-- Image 6 --></a> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im6.png" height="581" width="400" alt= + "THE PICTURE WAS NEARLY DONE."> + </center> + <p> + "Poor"—"troubles." This was all enigma to Laura Ann. + But she wisely waited to be enlightened. She had divined the + moment she saw T.O. that the girl was unusually disturbed. + This was true. + </p> + <p> + "I've had two letters—the first one came three weeks + ago from her brother. I didn't want to spoil your good time, + telling sad things, so I kept it to myself—Laura Ann, + that woman <i>mothered</i> me!" + </p> + <p> + Laura Ann stood still. "Do you mean Mrs. Camp? Is + she—dead?" But the other did not seem to hear. She ran + on in a low, troubled voice. + </p> + <p> + "She bathed my ankle, and said 'My dear,' and waited on me, + when she'd never set eyes on me in her life before. How did + she know but that I was an—an <i>impostor</i>? And she + let us have her dear little house to live in—" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes—oh, yes, she let <i>me</i> live in it!" Laura + Ann interposed. "You ought to have told us she was dead." + </p> + <p> + "She isn't dead. She's fallen downstairs and broken her hip. + The doctor says it's so bad she won't ever walk again without + crutches, her brother wrote. He said he wanted her to stay + and live with him, but she wouldn't listen to it. She wanted + to come home as soon as she possibly could. So she's + coming—he's coming with her, to 'start' her." + </p> + <p> + T.O. fingered a letter in her hand in a nervous, undecided + way, as if she were half inclined to read it to the other + girl. It was not Emmeline Camp's brother's letter. It had + come ten days ago, and she herself knew it by heart. How + many, many times she had read it! She had cried over the + wistful cry in it, and over Amelia's death—for the + letter said that Amelia was dead. + </p> + <p> + "My dear," it said, "I've lost Amelia—you'd think she + would have stood by her mother in her trouble, wouldn't you? + But she hasn't been near me since. It seems + queer—perhaps after people break their hips they can't + 'feel' anything else but their hips! Perhaps it breaks their + imaginations. Anyway, Amelia's dead, my dear. Sometimes I + think mebbe I'd ought to be, too—a lone little woman + like me, without a chick or a child. Old women with children + can afford to tumble downstairs, but not my kind of old + women. John is real good. He wants me to stay here, but I + can't—I can't, I can't, my dear! I've got to be where I + can limp out to the old pump and the gate and the orchard, on + my crutches—I've got to see the old hills I was born + in, and Old '61 marching past the house, and the old + neighbors—I've got to die at <i>home</i>, my dear. So + John can't keep me. I wish I was going to find you there. I + keep thinking how beautiful it would be. You'd be out to the + gate waiting, the way people's daughters wait for them. And + mebbe you'd have the kettle all hot and we'd have a cup of + tea together just as if I was the mother and you + was—Amelia! All the way home I should be thinking about + your being there. It's queer, isn't it, you went limping in + that gate first, and now it's me? A good many things are + queer, and some are kind of desolate. I've decided, my dear, + that daughters have to be the kind that are born, to stay by + a body in trouble. They have to be made of flesh and blood, + my dear—and Amelia wasn't! + </p> + <p> + "I've written this a little to a time, laying on my back. + Mebbe you won't ever read it. Mebbe I won't ever see you + again, but you will remember, my dear, that I've loved you + ever since I took off your stocking and saw your poor, + sprained ankle. If the Lord would perform a miracle for me, + I'd ask for it to be the bringing of Amelia to life and + finding her you." + </p> + <p> + T.O. did not show the letter to Laura Ann. She put it in her + pocket again, and they walked home slowly, talking of Mrs. + Camp's sad accident. At the supper table it was voted that + they all write a joint letter of sympathy to her, and + express, at the same time, their united and separate thanks + for her kindness to them in lending them her home. + </p> + <p> + Loraine wrote the letter, Laura Ann copied it, they all + signed it. Into cold pen-and-ink words they tried to diffuse + warmth and gratitude and sympathy, but the result was not + very satisfying, as such results rarely are. Still, it was + all they could do. Billy and Laura Ann went off to mail it. + </p> + <p> + "Do you begin to feel lonesome?" laughed Loraine softly, as + she and T.O. sat on the steps in the dark. "Thinking of being + left all alone in the Hive, I mean? The rest of us begin to + feel lonesome, thinking of being left out! We had a grist of + good times all together, didn't we? Remember the little + 'treats' when you always brought home olives, and Billy sage + cheese? Laura Ann used to change about—sometimes + eclairs, sometimes sauerkraut! Always sardines for me. Oh, + <i>do</i> you remember the treat with a capital 'T,' when we + had ice cream and angel cake? And Billy wanted to divide the + hole so as not to waste anything—there, I don't believe + you've heard a word I said!" + </p> + <p> + She had not, for she was not there. Loraine put out her hand + in the darkness, but could not find her. She had slipped away + unceremoniously. + </p> + <p> + She was down in the road, walking fast and hard. The battle + was on again. + </p> + <p> + "I thought I had it all decided—I <i>did</i> have! Why + do I have to decide it over again?" she was saying stormily + to herself. "I said I'd do it, and I'm going to do + it—what am I down here fighting in the dark for?" But + still she fought on. + </p> + <p> + It was so still about her, and with all her girl's heart she + longed for noise again—car-bells and rattling wheels + and din of men's voices. There were such wide spaces all + about, and she longed for narrow spaces—for rows on + rows of houses and people coming and going. It was the + city-blood in her asserting itself. She had had her breath of + space and freedom and green, growing things, and exulted in + it while it lasted. Now she pined for her native streets. But + all the sympathy and gratitude in her went out to the little + old woman who was coming home to a lonely home—whose + one dream-child was dead. + </p> + <p> + No one had ever really needed her before—to be needed + appealed to her strongly. And in the short time between her + own coming to Placid Pond and the coming of the other girls, + a bond of real affection had been established between Mrs. + Camp and herself. + </p> + <p> + But hadn't she been over all this before? Long ago she had + decided what to do. Now, suddenly, she wheeled in the dark + road and went hurrying in the other direction. She would go + back to Loraine on the doorstep, and laugh and talk. She had + decided "for good." + </p> + <p> + The stars came trooping out, and she lifted her face to them + with a new sense of peace. They were such friendly, twinkling + little stars. + </p> + <p> + T.O. was humming a lilty little tune when she came up the + path in the starlight and joined Loraine again on the + doorstep. + </p> + <p> + The other two girls were coming slowly back from the little + country post office, both to hurry and have the pleasant walk + over. Billy had been saying nice things about the portrait of + Amelia they had found hanging on the wall. + </p> + <p> + "It's a dear!" she said heartily. "I wish I could make a + picture like that." + </p> + <p> + "You've made one a thousand times better!" cried Laura Ann. + "I saw it this afternoon." + </p> + <p> + "<i>Me</i>—make a picture?" Billy's voice was + incredulous. "I couldn't draw my breath straight!" + </p> + <p> + "It was a beautiful one. I stood still and looked at it. Your + background was fine, dear—woods banked against a late + afternoon sky, with bits of red light straggling through the + branches, a little box of a house in the foreground, with + patches of new shingles on the 'cover'; a crooked little + front path, a funny little well, a little rosebush all a + flame of color—" + </p> + <p> + "Mercy!" Billy's little triangle of a face put on alarm. Was + Laura Ann losing her mind? + </p> + <p> + "But that—all that—was only the setting. The + heart of the picture, dear, was an old man marching up and + down the path—did I say it was a moving picture? He was + whistling a tune in a wheezy way, and keeping step to it + grandly. Once he seemed to lose a few notes; then he went + into a little box of a house, and I heard an organ—" + </p> + <p> + "Oh!" breathed Billy, assured of the other's sanity, "you + mean Old '61 practicing! That's the way he does—he's + learning to march through Georgia without the organ, but he + misses a step or two sometimes. <i>That</i> was the picture, + was it?" + </p> + <p> + "It was a beautiful one," Laura Ann said softly. "You needn't + tell me you can't paint, Billy! That's the kind of pictures + we shall find hanging in the Great Picture Gallery." + </p> + <p> + They walked on for a little in silence, with only the piping + chorus of the little night creatures in their ears. The + sweet, cool damp was in their faces. + </p> + <p> + "Here we are at Jane Cotton's Sam's," Billy whispered by and + by, to break the spell. She could not have told why she + whispered. + </p> + <p> + "So we are. Billy, look, he's studying like a trooper! That + boy is going to walk straight into college in September! + Let's go straight home and hug Loraine—come on! Take + hold of my hand, and we'll run." + </p> + <p> + "Wait—wait! Look, there's another of your pictures, + Laura Ann!" Billy's lips were close to the other's ear; Billy + was pointing. Into the little lighted room where Jane + Cotton's Sam sat poring over a book, had come another figure. + As they looked, it stopped beside the boy and bent over him. + </p> + <p> + "That's just the setting—all that," Laura Ann murmured. + "The heart of the picture is her face, Billy!" For Jane + Cotton's face was radiant. + </p> + <hr> + <p> + The day at last came for their return to the city and to the + work they were so much better able to do. The little, + green-painted house was in spotless order to leave behind. As + Mrs. Camp was to come the following day, they had filled the + little pantry with food—not remarkably light cake or + bread, not especially flaky piecrust, but everything flavored + with sympathy and gratitude and good will. + </p> + <p> + "Go on, all of you; I'll catch up," Billy said, as they stood + on the steps with the door locked behind them. "When you get + out of sight I'm going to kiss the house good-by!" + </p> + <p> + "T.O. had better stay behind with you, to kiss the pump!" + Loraine said. "Or we'll all stay—I guess we can all + find something to kiss." + </p> + <p> + "Did anybody think to take down the Wicked Compact?" demanded + Laura Ann suddenly. "It would be awful to leave that behind." + </p> + <p> + They were at the gate. T.O. stopped suddenly, pointing. What + they saw was a tiny, tiny mound, rounded symmetrically. + "There it lies—I buried it," T.O. said briefly, but + added, "And let no one keep its grave green!" They looked at + her a little curiously. Perhaps they were thinking that it + might have been appropriate for her to take it home with her + and hang it on the wall to keep her company in the lonely + little B-Hive. But they only laughed and tramped on + cheerfully to the station. They were a little late, and had + to run the last of the way. The train was already in, and + they scrambled aboard. + </p> + <p> + "Well, here we are leaving Eldorado!" sighed breathlessly + Loraine. + </p> + <p> + "And all of us heart-broken but T.O.—girls, where's + T.O.?" + </p> + <p> + She was not there. The train was getting under way. In a + flurry they huddled to the windows. + </p> + <p> + "Good-by! Good-by!" shouted a gay voice from the platform. A + little white envelope flew in at one of the open windows. + T.O., quite calm and unexcited, stood out there waving to + them. + </p> + <p> + "What in the world!" ejaculated Laura Ann, then stopped. For + she alone could see a little ray of light. "Read the letter," + she said more quietly. "The letter will tell us." + </p> + <p> + They all read it together, their heads bunched closely. + </p> + <p> + "Dear girls, I'm going to stay. I never was needed before, + but I guess I am now. And maybe you'll think it's funny, but + I'm <i>wanted</i>! An imaginary daughter can't wait on a poor + little cripple—it takes the flesh-and-blood kind. I + found out she wanted me, and so I'm going to stay. It would + have been lonesome, anyway, all alone in the Hive! I bequeath + all my rights to you—" + </p> + <p> + "As if she had any now, any more than the rest of us!" + muttered Billy fiercely, her eyes full of tears. + </p> + <p> + "Sometimes when you're going and coming, some o' you listen + to the car-wires sing, for me, and the wheels rattle," the + letter went on. "Bump into somebody sometime for me! Good-by. + You're all of you dears. + </p> + <p> + "Amelia." + </p> + <p> + At the signature they choked a little, and looked away at the + flying landscape without seeing it at all. Laura Ann saw + another picture—a girl waiting at a little gate. Woods + and dusty road and humble little homes for background, and an + old stage rattling into view in the foreground. She saw it + stop—in the picture—and a helpless little old + figure be taken out. She saw the girl at the gate spring + forward and hold out her hands. But the heart of the picture + was the face of the little old woman on crutches. It was + another picture for the Grand Gallery. + </p> + <center> + <img src="images/comp-im7.png" height="56" width="100" alt= + "[Illustration]"> + </center> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + <p> + + </p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Four Girls and a Compact, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT *** + +***** This file should be named 9505-h.htm or 9505-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/5/0/9505/ + +Produced by Joel Erickson, David Garcia and PG Distributed Proofreaders +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im1.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im1.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e13137 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im1.png diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im2.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im2.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c0b015 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im2.png diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im3.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im3.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4414fd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im3.png diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im4.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im4.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..30a6d80 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im4.png diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im5.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im5.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9792c28 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im5.png diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im6.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im6.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..669cb1a --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im6.png diff --git a/9505-h/images/comp-im7.png b/9505-h/images/comp-im7.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c06dff --- /dev/null +++ b/9505-h/images/comp-im7.png diff --git a/9505.txt b/9505.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1eef490 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2460 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Four Girls and a Compact, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of +the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: Four Girls and a Compact + +Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell + +Posting Date: February 5, 2015 [EBook #9505] +Release Date: December, 2005 +First Posted: October 7, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT *** + + + + +Produced by Joel Erickson, David Garcia and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + +FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT + +By Annie Hamilton Donnell + + +1908. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +"Wait for T.O.," commanded Loraine, and of course they waited. Loraine's +commands were always obeyed, Laura Ann said, because her name was such a +_queeny_ one. Nobody else in the little colony--the "B-Hive"--had a +queeny name. + +"Though I just missed it," sighed Laura Ann. "Think what a little step +from Loraine to Laur' Ann! I always just miss things." + +T.O. was apt to be late. She never rode, and, being short, was not a +remarkable walker. To-night she was later than usual. The three other +girls got into kimonos and slippers and prepared tea. In all their minds +the Grand Plan was fomenting, and it was not easy to wait. A cheer +greeted T.O. as she came in, wet and weary and cheerful. + +"You're overdue, my dear," Loraine said severely. But of course T.O. +laughed and offered a weak pun: + +"The 'dew' is over me, you mean! Oh, girls, this looks too cozy for +anything in here! All the way up town I've been blessing you three for +taking me in." + +Said Laura Ann: "If I were pun-mad, like some folks, I could do +something quite smart there. But there, you poor, wet dear! You sha'n't +be outdone in your specialty, no you sha'n't! Get off your things quick, +dear--we're all bursting to talk about the Grand Plan." + +It was, after all, Billy that started in. Billy was very tired indeed, +and her lean, eager face was pale. + +"Girls, we _must!_" she said. "I can't hold out more than a few +weeks more. I shall be a mental wreck and go 'round muttering, +_one_-two--three--four, _one_--two--three--four--flat your b's, +sharp your c's--one--two--three--four--_play!_" For Billy all day +toiled at pianos, teaching unwilling little persons to play. Billy's +long name was Wilhelmina. + +They were all toilers--worker-B's. The "B" part of the name which they +had given to the little colony came from the accident of all their +surnames beginning with that letter--Brown, Bent, Baker, Byers. It was, +they all agreed, a happy accident; the "B-Hive" sounded so well. But, +as Laura Ann said, it entailed things, notably industry. + +Laura Ann finished negatives part of the day to earn money to learn to +paint the other part. She was poor, but the same good grit that made her +loyal to her old grandmother's name, unshortened and unbeautified, gave +her courage to work on toward the distant goal. + +Loraine taught--"just everlastingly taught," she said, until she could +do it with her eyes shut. Cube root, all historic dates, all x, y, z's, +were as printing to her, dinned into the warp and woof of her by patient +reiteration. She was very tired, too. The rest of the long June days +stretched ahead of her in weary perspective. + +That these three had drifted together in the great city was sufficiently +curious, but more curious yet was the "drifting together" of T.O.--a +plain little clerk in a great department store. She, herself, humbly +acknowledged that she did not seem to "belong," but here she was, +divesting herself of her wet wraps and getting ready for tea in the tiny +flat. Handkerchiefs, initialed, "warranted,"--uninitialed, +unwarranted--were behind her and ahead, but between she forgot their +existence and took her comfort. + +"Well?" she said presently. "I'm ready." They sat down to the simple +little meal without further delay and with the first mouthfuls opened +again the rather time-worn discussion. Could they adopt the Grand Plan? +Oh, _couldn't_ they? To get out of the hot, teeming city and +breathe air enough and pure enough, to luxuriate in idleness, to +_rest_--to a girl, they longed for it. They were all orphans, and +they were all poor. The Grand Plan was ambitious, indefinite, but they +could not give it up. They had wintered it and springed it, and clung +to it through bright days and dark. + +Suddenly Loraine tapped sharply on the table. "All in favor of spending +the summer in the country say 'aye,'" she cried, "and say it hard!" + +"Aye!" + +"Aye!" + +"Aye!" + +"_Aye_!" appended Loraine, and said it hard. "It's a vote," she +added calmly. Then, staring at each other, they sat for a little with +rather frightened faces. For this thing that they had done was rather a +stupendous thing. T.O. recovered first--courage was as the breath of her +little lean nostrils. + +"Girls, this is great!" she laughed. "_We've gone and done it!_ +There's nothing left but to pack our trunks!" + +"Except a few last trifles, such as deciding where to go and what to pay +for it with," put in Laura Ann with soft irony. "We could decide those +things on the train, I suppose--" + +"Let's decide 'em on the spot," rejoined T.O. imperturbably. "Somebody +propose something." + +Here Billy was visited with one of her inspirations and promptly shared +it with her usual generosity. "We must hunt up a place to--er--'bunk' +in--just bunk and board ourselves. Of course we can't afford to +_be_ boarded--" + +"Of course," in chorus. + +"Well, then, one of us must go out into the waste places--oh, anywhere +where the grass has room to grow and there are trees and birds and +_barns_--I stipulate barns." Billy made a splendid, comprehensive +gesture that took in all the points of the compass impartially. "One +of us must take a few days off and go and hunt up a nice, inexpensive +little Eldorado for us. There!--there, my friends, you have the +solution of your knotty little problem in a nutshell. I gladly give +my 'services' free." + +"Who's going?" demanded practical Laura Ann. "Does anybody kindly +volunteer?" + +No volunteers. Silence, broken only by the chirp of the cheery little +teakettle. The immense responsibility of setting the Grand Plan in +motion was not to be lightly assumed. The utter vagueness of Billy's +"waste places" was dismaying, to say the least. There might be many +nice, inexpensive little Eldorados waiting to be "bunked" in and +picnicked in, but where? The world was full of places where there were +trees and birds and barns, but to pick out the particular one where +four tired-out young toilers could lay down their tools and rest +_inexpensively_, looked like a big undertaking. + +Billy had settled back in her chair with an air of having done her part +and washed her hands of further responsibility. The rest must do their +parts now. Billy, who was the youngest and frailest of the little colony +of workers, had fallen into the way of dropping asleep whenever +opportunity offered; she did so now with a little sigh of contentment. +Her girlish face against the faded crimson back of the chair looked +startlingly white. In her sleep she moved her lips and the others caught +a pathetic little "_one_-two-three-four" dropping from them. Poor +Billy! She was giving a music lesson in her dreams! + +Loraine made a little paper shade and shielded her pale face from the +light, and Laura Ann tilted the clumsy patent rocker backward and +trigged it with a book. Both their faces, tired, too, and pale, were +sweet with kindness. T.O., who did queer and unexpected things, went +round the table on her toes and kissed Billy's forehead openly. Her face +had a puckering frown on it, oddly at variance with the kiss and with +the look in her eyes. The kiss and the look were the things that +mattered--the frown was a thing of insignificance. + +"You poor little blessed!" she murmured. + +"'Flat your b,'" murmured Billy wearily, and no one laughed. They were +all laughers, but the picture of Billy toiling on monotonously in her +sleep failed to appeal to them as humorous. T.O. went back silently to +her seat. + +What the initials T.O. stood for in the way of a name had been the +subject of much guessing in the B-Hive, for the owner of the initials +refused whimsically to explain them. Perhaps she would sometime when the +moon was full or the wind was in the right quarter, she said. Meanwhile +T.O. did well enough--as well as "Billy," anyway, or "Laura Ann"! And +they fell in gayly with her whimsy and called her T.O. The nearest they +had ever come to an answer to their guesses was one night when they had +been discussing "talents" and comparing "callings," and T.O. had sat by, +a wistful little listener and admirer. For T.O. had no talent, and who +would call selling handkerchiefs from morning till night a "calling"? +Even sheer, fine handkerchiefs, warranted every thread linen! + +"Talentless One," she broke out startlingly. "You want to know what +'T.O.' stands for--that's it!" And the amused look in the girls' eyes +changed quickly to understanding at sight of her face. "Well," she +challenged, "why don't you say what an appropriate name it is? It's a +wonder you _talented_ ones didn't guess it long ago! Listen! +Loraine's talent is writing--we all know she'll be an author some day. +Laura Ann's is art. Oh, you needn't laugh--need she, girls? One of these +days we're all going to a 'hanging,' and _it'll be Laura Ann's!_ +Billy's talent everybody knows. She can play wicked folks good, if +there's a piano handy. Well, what is my talent? Don't everybody speak at +once!" The girl's flushed face defied them. It was bitter with longing +to be a Talented One. + +[Illustration: "YOU POOR LITTLE BLESSED!" SHE MURMURED.] + +"Dear!" It was like gentle Loraine to begin with a "dear," and like her, +too, to cross the room to T.O. and touch her little bitter face with +cool fingers. "Dear, don't you worry--your talent is _there._" + +"Where?" demanded T.O. Then she laughed. "I suppose you mean buried in +a handkerchief! But I shall never be able to dig it out--never! There's +such an awful pile of them on top! They keep piling on new ones every +day. If I keep on selling handkerchiefs till I'm seventy-five, I'll +never get down to my talent." + +It was, after all, quite true, though none of them would acknowledge +it--except the Talentless One herself. She was, as she insisted, the odd +one in the busy little B-Hive. Her very face, small and dark and lean, +was an "odd" one; the faces of the other three were marked by an +indefinable something that she called talent, and she was not far wrong. +A subtle refinement, intellectuality, asserted itself gently in all +three of them. The dark little face of T.O. was vivacious and keen, but +not refined or intellectual. + +Billy was the baby "B," as Loraine was the acknowledged queen. They all +favored Billy and took care of her. Was it a rainy morning? Somebody got +Billy's rubbers, somebody else her umbrella! Was the child paler than +usual? She must have the softest chair and be babied. Poor little +toiler-Billy, created to have a mother and a home, to sit always in soft +chairs and be taken care of! Yet without them all she was making a +splendid struggle for independence, with the best of them, and they were +conscious of a certain element of heroism in her toiling that none of +the rest of them laid claim to in their own. The other B.'s were proud +of Billy. + +T.O. was as small and thin as Billy, but no one thought of taking care +of T.O. or babying her. Instead, T.O.--the Talentless One--took care of +them all. She had always been a toiler, always been alone, and to the +rest it was comparatively a new experience. T.O., as she herself said, +was able to give them all "points." + +While tired Billy slept to-night, the Grand Plan discussion was taken up +again and entertained with new enthusiasm. It was now a definite Plan, +since they had voted unanimously to adopt it--it was no longer merely +a unanimous wish, to be bandied about longingly. It remained only to +choose a brave soul to go forth and find for it a "local habitation." + +"When Billy wakes up, we'll draw lots," Loraine decided gently. "The one +who gets the longest slip _will go_--but mercy! I hope I sha'n't be +the one! Girls, there really ought to be one to--er--oversee the drawing +of the lots--" + +"Hear! Hear!" from T.O. + +"You will take your chances with the common herd, my dear," Laura Ann +said firmly. "You really need not be alarmed, though, for I shall draw +the fatal slip. I always do. Then I shall go up-country and engage four +boards at a nice white house with green blinds, and forget to ask how +much they will cost--the 'boards,' I mean--and whether they'll take +Billy at half-price. You'll all like my white house, but you won't be +able to stay more than one night on account of the expense. So you'll +turn me out of the B-Hive and I shall--" + +"Oh, don't do anything else--don't!" T.O. groaned. "That will be doing +enough." + +"We shall have to find a _very_ cheap place," Loraine said, +thoughtfully, too intent on the fate of the Grand Plan to listen to +pleasantries. "Somewhere where it won't cost much of anything." + +"Such an easy place to find!" murmured Laura Ann. "I see myself going +straight to it!" + +"We've _got_ to go to it, on account of--" Loraine nodded toward +the sleeping little figure in the softest chair. "Girls, Billy is all +worn out." + +"So are you," Laura Ann said tenderly. + +"And you," retorted Loraine. + +The Talentless One, unintentionally left out, sighed an infinitesimal +sigh, preparatory to smiling stoutly. + +"Of course we're going to find the right place," she said convincingly. +"You wait and see. _I_ see it now"--this dreamily; it was odd for +the Talentless One to be dreaming. "It looks this way: Green, grassy and +pine-woodsy and roomy. And cornfields--think of it!" + +"'Woods and cornfields--the picture must not be over-done,'" quoted +softly and a little accusingly Laura Ann. But the Talentless One had +never heard of Miss Cary's beautiful poem, and went on calmly: + +"And a--pump. Girls, if _I_ find the 'Eldorado,' there'll be a +pump--painted blue!" + +Here Billy woke up. There was no time to discountenance the pump. + +"Why, I believe I've been asleep!" Billy laughed restedly. "And I've +been somewhere else, too. Guess!" + +"To Eldorado," someone ventured. + +"Well, I have. It was the loveliest place! There weren't any pianos or +schools or photograph salons or _handkerchiefs_ in it!" + +"Then we'll go there!" the Talentless One cried. + +Loraine was busy cutting strips of paper. She cut four of varying +lengths and dropped them into an empty cracker-box. + +"Somebody shake them up, everyone shut her eyes and draw one," she +ordered. "And the person that draws the longest slip must be the one +to find our Eldorado." + +They shut their eyes and fumbled in the cracker-box. The room was oddly +quiet. Laura Ann, who always drew the fatal slip, breathed a little +hard. + +But the lot fell to the Talentless One. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +"Why, I didn't get it!" exclaimed Laura Ann, in surprise. "And maybe I'm +not thankful! Poor T.O.!" + +"Yes, poor T.O.!" agreed Loraine and Billy. The honor of drawing the +longest slip was not, it appeared, a coveted one. But T.O. actually +beamed! + +"Needn't anyone pity me!" she said, briskly. "I like it! You see," she +added, explanatorily, "I never did anything remarkable before! Of course +I sha'n't blame you girls any if you shake in your shoes while I'm gone, +but I'll promise to do my little best. If you thought you could trust +me--" + +"We do! We do!" Loraine said, warmly, speaking for them all. "And we +pity you, too, poor dear! It looks like an awful undertaking to me." + +"How long can you take? Are you sure they'll let you get off down at +Torrey's?" asked Billy, languidly. + +"Oh," the Talentless One said, calmly, "I shall get a substitute, of +course. They let the girls do that, if the substitute suits 'em. There's +a girl that used to be at the handkerchief counter that will be glad +enough to earn a little money, I know. She'll be tickled! And she can +keep the place open for me when I get back from the country in the +fall--" Suddenly the Talentless One laughed out joyously. "Hear me! +'When I get back from the country!' Doesn't that sound splendid! Makes +me think of cows and chickens and strawberries and--" + +"Pumps painted blue!" laughed Laura Ann. "We're in for a blue pump, +girls!" + + * * * * * + +The substitution at the handkerchief counter could not be arranged +for at once, so the proposed voyage of discovery was a little delayed. +Meanwhile the Grand Plan and a newly-born family of lesser plans +occupied the interim of waiting. One thing they all agreed upon. +It was tired little Billy who voiced it. + +"We won't be good this summer, will we? I've been good so long that +I want to rest!" + +"It would seem comfortable not to have to be, wouldn't it?" Loraine +laughed. As if Loraine could rest from being good! "Not to have to do +anything for anybody--just be good to yourself! Now, I call that the +luxury of selfishness! And really, girls, we deserve one little +luxury--" + +"We'll indulge ourselves," T.O. nodded gravely. "I'm sure I've been +polite to people and patient with people long enough to have a +vacation--a summer vacation!" + +"Give me a paper and pencil, somebody, quick!" This from Laura Ann. +She fell to scribbling industriously. The purring of her pencil over +the paper had a smooth, wicked sound as if it were writing wicked things. +It was. + +"Be it known," read Laura Ann, flourishing her pencil, "that we, the +undersigned, having endeavored, up to the present, to be good, consider +ourselves entitled to be selfish during our summer vacation. That we +mean to be selfish--that we herewith swear to be! That we do not mean to +'do good unto' anybody except ourselves! Inasmuch as we have faithfully +tried to do our several duties hitherto, we feel justified in resting +from the same until such time as we may--er--wish to begin again. + +"Furthermore, resolved: That any or all persons hereunto subscribed, who +fail to keep the letter of this compact, be summarily _dropped!_" + +(Signed) "LAURA ANN BYERS." + +The paper went the rounds and was soberly signed by each girl in turn. +Loraine, the last, traced three words in her tiny handwriting at the +head of the paper. + +"The Wicked Compact!" read Billy over her shoulder, and nodded +agreeingly. "That's a good name for it. Doesn't it make you feel lovely +and shuddery to belong to a Wicked Compact! Oh, you needn't think I +shall go back on the rules and regulations! If somebody gets down on his +knees and implores, 'Which note shall I flat?' I shall turn coldly away, +or else say, 'Suit yourself, my dear!' But, girls, oh girls, I hope +there won't be any pianos in Eldorado!" + +"Probably there will be only cabinet organs--don't worry, dear!" soothed +Laura Ann. + + * * * * * + +The day after the Wicked Compact was drawn up and signed, T.O. started +on her quest for Eldorado. She would have no one escort her to the +station; she would give no intimation of her plans. They were all to +wait as patiently as possible till she came back. It was only because +she had to, poor child, that she accepted the contributions of the +others toward her expenses of travel. + +At the station she straightened her short stature to its utmost and +approached the ticket window. She might have been, from her splendid +dignity of manner, six feet instead of five. + +"Will you please tell me which road is the cheapest to travel on?" she +asked, clearly, undismayed outwardly, inwardly quailing before the +ticket man's amazement. His curious eyes surveyed her through the little +opening. + +"Why--er--well, there's the most competition on the X & Y Road," he +said, slowly. "The rates on that line are about down to the limit--" + +"Thank you," the dignified one said, and turned away. She found the time +table of the X & Y Road on the station wall, and studied it +thoughtfully. She had resolved to select the place with the most +promising name. Back at the ticket window she patiently waited her turn +in a little stream of people. The woman ahead of her was flourishing a +dainty, embroidered handkerchief, and she wondered idly if it had come +from her counter at Torrey's. If so, why was it not a little white flag +of truce that gave her a right to say "How do you do?" to the woman? +The Talentless One suddenly felt a little lonely. + +"Ticket to Placid Pond, please," she said, when her turn came. The very +sound of the peaceful little name gave her courage. Placid Pond! Placid +Pond! Could any place be more indicative of rest? Then she bethought her +of the Wicked Compact, and felt almost impelled to hand back the +ticket--Placid Pond could not be the right place to be bad in! + +But it was too late! + +"Two-twenty," the ticket man said, monotonously, and she fumbled in her +lean, little purse. To Placid Pond she would go, and, if there were +barns and cornfields and a blue-painted pump--the thrill of expectancy +ran through her veins, and she forgot the Wicked Compact. + +The Talentless One had never glided through green places like this +before, between slow, clear little streams, by country children waving +their hats. She had never seen far, splendid reaches of hills, +undulating softly against the sky. Wonder and delight filled her. She +found herself envying the little, brown children who waved their hats. + +"It's pretty, ain't it?" a fresh, old voice said in her ear. When she +turned, it was to look into a fresh, old face behind her. + +"Ain't it a pretty world the Lord's made? The 'firmament showeth his +handiwork,' don't it? Where are you going to, deary?" + +"A place called Placid Pond," answered the girl, smiling back. + +"_No?_ Well, I declare! That's where Emmeline Camp lives that was a +Jones an' spelt out o' my spellin'-book! If you see Emmeline, you tell +her you saw me on the cars. Emmeline and I have always kep' up our +interest in each other. She'll be tickled--you tell her I've learnt that +leaf-stitch at last! She'll understand!" + +The thin, old voice tinkled on pleasantly in the Talentless One's ears. + +"Come back here an' set with me, deary, an' I'll tell you which house is +Emmeline's, so, if you go past, you'll know it--it's painted green! Did +you ever! But Emmeline was always set on green. She was married in a +green silk, an' we girls said she married a green husband!" + +T.O. laughed enjoyingly. She began to feel acquainted with Emmeline, and +to hope she should find the green house--perhaps it would be the +Eldorado house! Wonders happened sometimes. + +"I don't suppose--there isn't a blue pump, is there? I've set my heart +on a blue pump!" she laughed, as if the little, old woman who knew +Emmeline would understand. The little, old woman smiled delightedly--as +if she understood! + +"Dear land, no! I hope Emmeline ain't painted her pump blue--and her +livin' in a green house! But she'd go out an' do it--it would be just +like Emmeline, if she knew anybody wanted a blue pump! Here we are, +deary! This is Placid Pond we're coming to! You see that sheet o' water, +don't you? Well, that's it!" + +The Talentless One buttoned her jacket and clutched her little black +bag. Her thin cheeks bloomed suddenly with tiny red spots of excitement. +She seemed on the edge of an Adventure; and, to one who had stood behind +a counter nearly all her days, an Adventure began with a capital A. +The train slowed up and stood panting--in a hurry to go again. + +"Oh, I wish you were going to get out here!" T.O. said, wistfully. + +The little, old woman seemed like an old friend to her. She felt oddly +young and inexperienced. Then, remembering the girls left behind in the +B-Hive and their confidence in her, she threw up her small head and +hurried away valiantly. + +"Good-by!" she called back, from the bit of platform outside. + +"Good-by! Give my love to Emmeline!" nodded and beamed the little, old +face in the car window. + +It was a tiny place. T.O. could see only the great, placid sheet of +water and the diminutive station at first. She accosted the only human +being in sight. + +"Which way is the city--village, I mean?" she asked. + +He was an old man and held a scooped palm behind his ear. + +"Eh?" + +"The village--please direct me to it." + +"Well," he laughed good-humoredly, "all the village they is you'll +strike yonder," pointing. "You keep a-goin', an' you'll git thar!" + +She thanked him and set out courageously. She kept "a-goin'." The +country road was shady and dusty and sweet with mystic, unseen, growing +things. Her feet, used to hard pavements, sank into the soft dust +luxuriously. She breathed deep and swung along at a splendid pace. It +was hard to believe that she was a clerk at Torrey's! There did not seem +to have ever been handkerchiefs in the world--even all-linen, warranted +ones! + +"This is Eldorado!" she said aloud, and was proud of herself for finding +it so soon--coming straight to it! Lucky she had been the one to draw +the longest strip. + +She passed one or two houses, but none of them were painted green. She +said to herself she would keep on to "Emmeline's" house. The whim had +seized her and was holding on tight that Emmeline's might be the Right +Place. So she swung on buoyantly. + +[Illustration: "WHICH WAY IS THE VILLAGE?" SHE ASKED.] + +A stone wall bordered the road on one side, and over the wall she spied +a sprinkling of little flowers that called, "Come and pick us!" to her. +She did not know that they were bluets, but she knew they were dainty +and sweet and beckoned to her. She paused an instant uncertainly, and +then climbed the wall. It was rather an arduous undertaking for a clerk +at a handkerchief counter, and she went about it clumsily. The wall was +high and the stones "jiggled" in a terrifying way. One big stone climbed +down on the other side with her--they went together unceremoniously. + +The Talentless One laughed a little under her breath as she sat up among +the little flowers, but she was not quite sure that she wanted to laugh. +The big stone was on her foot and she regarded it with disfavor. It +required considerable strength to roll it off--then she got up. Then she +sank down again very suddenly. + +"Oh!" she cried, sharply. For several moments she said nothing more, did +nothing more. The discovery she had made was not a pleasant discovery. +In Eldorado clumsy people who could not climb stone walls came to grief. +She had come to grief. When she moved her foot, terrible twinges of pain +were telegraphed all over her body. She sat, a sorry little heap, among +the stranger flowers that had brought about her ruin. The roadway +stretched dustily and emptily up and down, on the other side of the +wall. + +"Oh!" breathed the Talentless One. It had been a sigh before, now it was +a groan. What was she to do? A sort of terror seized her. She had never +been really frightened before. The beautiful country about her no longer +was beautiful. It was no longer Eldorado to her. + +Then she discovered a green fleck down the road, a different green from +the grass and trees. If it should be Emmeline's house--if she could get +to it! + +"I must!" she said, and hobbled to her feet. Somehow she got over the +wall, and went stumbling toward the green spot. The agony in her foot +increased every moment; she grew dizzy with it. + +It must be Emmeline's house--a little, green-painted one beside the +road! There could not be two green houses in Placid Pond. With a long +breath of relief she got to the door. After that she did not know +anything for a little time, then her eyes opened. Someone with a kind, +anxious face was bending over her. It was Emmeline! It looked like the +face of an old friend to the poor, little Talentless One. + +"There, there, poor dear! Never mind where you be, or who I be--you +'tend right to gettin' out o' your faint! Sniff this bottle--there! +You'll be all right in a minute. It's your foot, ain't it? It's all +swollen up--how'd you sprain it?" + +She had the injured foot in her tremulous old hands, gently loosening +the shoe. The girl, though she winced with pain, did not utter a sound. + +"There ain't any doctor this side of Anywhere," the kind voice ran on, +"but never you mind. I'll risk but what I've got liniments that will +doctor you up." + +And the girl, looking up into the peaceful old "lineaments," smiled +faintly, and knew there was healing in them. Even in her throbbing pain +she could think of this new pun that she would regale the girls with +when she got back to them--if she ever got back! + +"You are 'Emmeline,' aren't you!" she presently questioned, feebly, like +an old woman, for the pain seemed to have made her old. "I'm so glad you +are Emmeline!" + +Poor dear, she was wandering in her mind, and no wonder, with a foot +swollen up like that! It was queer, though, hitting on the right name +in that way. + +"There! there! Yes, I am Emmeline, though I might've been Sophia or +Debby Jane! Namin' people is sort o' accidental. I always wished they'd +named me somethin' prettier by accident! But I guess Emmeline will have +to do." + +It was long after this before any explanation was made. The fact that +it was Emmeline was enough for those first hours. + +"Now, you kind of bear on to yourself, poor dear! This boot has got to +come off!" the kind voice crooned. But, in the awful process of "bearing +on," the Talentless One shot out into the dark, as if pushed by a heavy +hand. How long it was before she came back into the light she did not +know--it seemed to be a point of light that pricked her eyes. She shut +them against it, and longed to drift away again; the dark had been cool +and pleasant. + +It was a lighted lamp on a tiny, round table. She found it out the next +time she opened her eyes. She was in a little bedroom, on the bed. The +door was open, and a voice drifted in to her: + +"She was coming to beautifully when I left her. I thought mebbe she'd +feel more at home to come to alone. I've got her ankle all dressed nice, +but it would make your heart ache to see it! The poor dear won't walk +again this one while--" + +"But, Emmeline Camp, what are you going to do with her all that time?" +The second voice was a little shrill. + +"Sh! I'm goin' to doctor her up, just as if she was the little girl the +Lord never gave me. I've always known what I'd do if my little girl +broke anything--There! you'll have to excuse me, Mrs. Williams, while +I take this cup o'tea in." + +It is odd how many little confidences can be exchanged in the time of +cooling and drinking a cup of tea. The caller had gone away, and the old +woman and the girl were left alone. Little by little the story of the +B-Hive and the quest for an Eldorado came out. Emmeline Camp sat and +nodded, and clandestinely wiped her eyes. + +"I see--I see, deary! Now, don't you talk any more and get faint again. +I'll talk. You no need to worry about anything in the world--not yet! +When it's time to commence, I'll tell you. How does your foot feel now? +Dear, dear! When I was fussing over it, it seemed just as if it was my +little Amelia's foot! I've always known what I'd do if she sprained +hers, and so I did it to yours, deary!" + +"Is Amelia your daughter?" + +The old face wavered between a smile and tears. "Yes," she nodded, "but +she warn't ever born. It's a kind of a secret between me and the Lord. +He knows I've made believe Amelia. I've always been kind of lonesome, +an' she's been a sight of company to me. She's been a good daughter, +Amelia has!" Now it was a smile. "We've set an' sewed patchwork +together, ever since she grew up. When she was little--there, deary, +hear me run on! But you remind me so much of Amelia. You can laugh just +as much as you want to at me runnin' on like this about a little girl +that warn't ever born--mebbe laughin' will help your foot." + +She took up the empty cup and went away, but she came back and stood a +minute in the doorway. + +"There's this about it," she laughed, in a tender, little way, "if she +warn't ever born, she won't ever die. I sha'n't lose Amelia!" + + * * * * * + +To the three girls waiting at the B-Hive came a letter. They read it, +three heads in a bunch: + +"Eldorado, June 26. + +"Come whenever you want to. Directions enclosed." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +There was a postscript. It was like T.O. to put the most of the letter +into the postscript. + +"P.S.--Never call me the Talentless One again" (as if they ever had!), +"when I came straight to the Eldorado--tumbled right into it. I've +decided to stay here until you come--please tell my substitute so. I +know she'll be so glad she'll throw up her hat. Bring your sheets and +pillow-cases. Come by way of the X. & Y. R.R. to a place called Placid +Pond." + +The three readers, bunched together over the letter, uttered a cry of +delight. "Placid Pond!"--of all the dear, delightful, placid names! The +very look of it on paper was restful; it _sounded_ restful when you +said it over and over--"Placid Pond. Placid Pond. Placid Pond." + +"Oh, she's a dear--she's an _artist!_" cried Laura Ann, who +measured all things by their relationship to art. This was an own +cousin! + +"Read on--somebody hold the letter still!" Billy cried excitedly. And +they read on: "Take the only road there is to take, and keep on to a +house that's painted green. It will be Emmeline's house, though they +might have named her Sophia, she says, by accident. But you will be glad +she is Emmeline. She has a beautiful daughter that never was born and +never will die--oh, girls, come as quick as ever you can!" + +Yours, "The Talented One." + +"P.S. No. 2.--Don't climb any stone walls. The stones are not stuck on." + +For a tiny space the three girls looked at each other in silence. The +letter in Loraine's hand was a masterpiece, full of enticing mysteries +that beckoned to them to come and find the "answers." What kind of an +Eldorado was this that was called Placid Pond, and was full of +mysteries? How could they wait! They must pack up and go at once! + +"'Talented One,' indeed!--she's a genius! See how she's left us to guess +things, instead of explaining them all out in a nice, tame way--oh, +_girls_"--Laura Ann's eyes shone--"won't we have the greatest +time!" + +"What I want to know is, who is Emmeline--" + +"Yes, who is Emmeline?" + +"And who _can_ her daughter _be_? She sounds so lovely and ghostly!" + +"Everything sounds lovely and ghostly. When can we go, girls?" This from +practical Loraine. "_I_ can't till after the Fourth." + +"Nor I," groaned Billy, dolefully. + +"I could, but I shall not--I shall wait for you two," Laura Ann said +quietly. + +Loraine turned upon her. "You needn't," she said, "now that you've +signed the compact--you can do whatever you _want_ to now, you +know. Needn't think of anybody but yourself." + +"The privilege of being selfish doesn't begin till we get to Eldorado," +laughed Laura Ann. "You'll see what I do then!" + +It was arranged that they should start on the fifth of July. "With our +sheets and pillow-cases," appended Billy. No one thought of writing to +T.O. for further particulars. No one wanted further particulars. The +uncertainly and mystery that enveloped Eldorado was its greatest charm. +They speculated, to be sure, at odd moments, as to the identity of the +person who might have been Sophia but was Emmeline, and they wrestled a +little with the hidden meaning of Postscript Number Two. Why were they +especially bidden not to climb stone walls? And _why_ was the +Talented One "staying over" till they came? + +"Why? Why? Why?" chanted Billy, "but don't anybody dare to guess why! +Who wants to know!" + +"Not me!" echoed ungrammatically Laura Ann. + +While they waited and speculated mildly, and packed and repacked their +things, T.O. lay on the bed in Emmeline Camp's little bedroom and winced +with pain whenever she moved her wounded foot. But she was very happy. +"Peace is in my soul, if not my _sole!_" she thought, a slave still +to the punning habit. She had never been so peaceful in her life. The +little old woman who had befriended her bustled happily in and out of +the little bedroom. She bathed and rubbed the swollen ankle, and smiled +and chattered to the girl at the other end of it. Her "lineaments" were +working a cure, surely. + +It had all been decided upon. The B-Hive was to be transplanted for the +summer to the little, green-painted house trailed over with +morning-glory vines and roses. Emmeline Camp had wanted, she said, for +forty years, to go upon a long journey, to visit her brother. Here was +her chance. The small sum she had at last consented to be paid for the +use of her little house would pay her traveling expenses one way, at +least, and John would be glad enough, she said, to pay her fare home, +to get rid of her! Only she was quite able to pay it herself. + +"I've kind of hankered to go to see John all these years. Forty years is +quite a spell to hanker, isn't it? But I never felt like leaving the +house behind, and I couldn't take it along very conveniently, so I +stayed to home. And then--my dear, you can laugh as well as not, but +I didn't like to leave Amelia." + +"But you might have taken her with--" + +"No," seriously, "I couldn't 've taken Amelia. I think, deary, it might +'ve killed her; she's part of the little house and the morning-glories +and roses. I'd have had to leave Amelia if I'd gone, and it didn't seem +right." + +"But now--" + +"Now," the little, old woman laughed in her odd, tender way that "went +with" Amelia, "now she'll have plenty of young company--all o' you here +with her. I shall make believe she's coming and going with you, and +it'll be a sight of comfort. Yes, deary, I guess this is going to be my +chance to visit John." + +"And our chance to have a summer in the country," completed the Talented +One. "Oh, I think you are--_dear_! Whatever will the other girls +say when I tell them about you!" + +One day T.O. remembered the blue pump. She gazed out of the window at +the brown one in the little yard. "Who would have thought," she sighed, +"that I could be so happy without a blue pump!" + +"What's that, deary?" The little, old woman was sewing patchwork near by. + +"Oh," laughed the girl, "I always _did_ want a pump that was +painted blue. I saw a picture of one once when I was a little mite, and +it impressed me--such a lovely, bright blue! I thought it went +beautifully with the green grass! But I can get along without it, I +guess." + +"We have to get along without having things painted to suit us," nodded +the little, old woman philosophically. But she remembered the blue pump. +There was a can of paint out in the shed room, and there was Jane +Cotton's Sam. + +Jane Cotton's Sam was a "feature" of Placid Pond--a whole set of +features, T.O. said. He was a lumbering, awkward fellow, well up to the +end of his teens, the only hope of widowed Jane. The Lord had given him +a splendid head, but the Placid Pond people were secretly triumphing in +the knowledge that Sam had failed to pass in his college examinations, +"head or no head." Jane had always boasted so of Sam's brains, and +predicted such a wonderful future for him! All her soul was set on Sam's +success--well, wasn't it time her pride had a fall? Mebbe now she'd see +Sam wasn't much different from other people's boys. + +Jane's heart was reported to be broken by the boy's failure, and Sam +went about sulkily defiant. He made a great pretense of lofty +indifference, but maybe he didn't care!--maybe not! Emmeline Camp knew +in her gentle old heart that he cared. She worried about Sam. + +All this the Talented One learned, little by little, in the way country +gossip is learned. She learned many other things, too, about the +neighbors--things that she lay and pondered about. It seemed queer to +find out that even a placid little place like this, set among the +peaceful hills, had its tragedies and comedies--its pitiful little +skeletons behind the doors. + +"That's Old '61," Mrs. Camp said, pointing to an old figure in the road. +"See him go marching past!--he always marches, as if he heard drums +beating and he was keeping time. I tell 'em he _does_ hear 'em. +He lives all alone up on the edge o' the woods, and folks say he spends +most all his time trying to pick march tunes out on the organ. A few +years ago he got some back pension money, and up and spent it for a +cabinet organ! Dear land! it seemed a pity, when he might have got him +some nice clothes or something sensible. But there he sets and sets over +that organ, trying to pick out tunes! Well,"--the gentle old voice took +on charity--"well, if that's his way of being happy, I s'pose he's got +as good a right to it as I have to--Amelia," a whimsical little smile +lighting up the old face, but underlying it the tenderness that the girl +on the bed had come to look for whenever any reference was made to +Amelia. + +"We've all got our idiosyncreases," added Emmeline Camp, "only some of +'em's creased in a little deeper'n others. I guess mine and Old '61's +are pretty considerable deep!" + +The early July days were cloudless and full of hot, stinging noises. +T.O. crawled out to lie in the grass under a great tree, and exult in +room and freedom and rest. Her ankle was still very painful, but she +regarded it with philosophical toleration: "You needn't have climbed a +stone wall, need you? Well, then, what have you to complain of? The best +thing you can do is to keep still." Which was, without doubt, the truth. +"Anyhow, it isn't becoming in you to be so puffed up!" + +It was decided that Mrs. Camp should start on her trip before the other +girls arrived. Hence, on the morning of the day they had set to come, +the little old woman and her bags and bundles rode away down the dusty +country road. Her lean, brown, crumpled old face had an exalted +expression; the joy of anticipation and the triumph of patient waiting +met in it and blended oddly. It was a great day for Emmeline Camp. + +"Good-by, deary. Keep right on rubbing, and don't go to walking 'round. +There's some cookies left in the cooky-crock, and a pie or two on the +shelf to kind of set you going. Take good care o' yourselves." + +"And Amelia," whispered the girl, drawing the old face down to her. +"We'll take good care of Amelia." + +It was a little lonely after the old stage rumbled away. The Talented +One turned whimsically to Amelia for company. She tried to imagine her, +as the little old woman did, but in vain. She could not conjure up the +sweet, elusive face, the hair, the eyes, the grave little mouth of +Amelia. The little old woman had taken away with her love, the key. She +must have taken Amelia away with her, too, the girl thought, smiling at +her own fancy. So, for company, she must wait until Loraine and Billy +and Laura Ann came, on the further edge of the day. She lay in the cool +grass, and made beatific plans for all the long, lazy days to come. No +hurrying, or worrying--each one for herself, happy in her own way. Only +themselves to think of for the space of a golden summer! + +"I am glad she took Amelia," the girl in the grass laughed softly. +"We'd never be able to keep to the Compact with Amelia 'round--Amelia +would never have signed a 'Wicked Compact'!" Which, in the event of +gentle, unsinning Amelia ever having been born, might or might not have +been true. It would have been harder work, reflected the girl in the +grass, for Amelia to have been unsinning and gentle, if she had been born. + +Jane Cotton's Sam came lounging down the road, cap over one eye, face +surlily defiant. T.O. watched him with displeasure. So that was the kind +of a boy that gave up? Poor kind of a boy! Why didn't he try it again, +especially when his poor mother's heart was breaking? Didn't he know +that giving up was worse than failing in his examinations? Somebody +ought to tell him--why, he was stopping at Mrs. Camp's little front +gate! He was coming in! + +The girl lying in the long grass under the tree sat up hurriedly. Quick, +quick! what was his name? Oh, yes, Sam! + +"Good-morning, Sam," she said pleasantly. But the boy, with a mere nod +of his splendidly-modeled head, hurried away toward the tiny barn. The +girl had seen the dark flush that mounted upward from his neck over his +pink and white cheeks. + +"Poor thing! He knows _I_ know that he didn't pass--that is the +only 'out' about living in the country: everybody knows everything. +Well, if it makes him blush, then his mother needn't break her heart +_yet_. I like the looks of that boy, if he does go 'round +scowling." Whereupon the Talented One promptly dismissed Jane Cotton's +Sam from her meditations. It did not occur to her to question his right +to be on Mrs. Camp's premises. She lay back in the grass and took up +again the interrupted thread of her musings. By gentle degrees odd +fancies took possession of her. + +[Illustration: THE BOY, WITH A MERE NOD, HURRIED AWAY.] + +The sprinkling of great, white daisies in the grass beside her--suppose, +now, this minute, they changed into white handkerchiefs, spread out on +a green counter! Then she would have to sell them to passers-by; it was +her business to sell handkerchiefs. Someone was coming marching up the +road--suppose she tried to sell him one, for the fun of it!--to make a +good story for the girls. Laughing, she got up and leaned on the fence. +She "dared" herself to do it. Then, courteously, "Can I sell you +anything in handkerchiefs to-day? Initialed, embroidered--" + +The marching feet stopped. Shrewd old eyes studied her face and +twinkled, responsive to the harmless mischief visible in it. + +"You got any with flags on--in the corners or anywhere? Or drums on?" +It was Old '61. "Or red, white an' blue ones? I'd like one o' +_them_--I fit in the war," explanatorily. + +"Yes?" The saleswoman was not especially interested in the war; it is +not the way with many of her kind to be interested in things. + +"I fit clear through--in the Wilderness, and Bull Run, an' plenty more. +They couldn't get rid o' me, the enemy couldn't! No, sir, where there +was marchin' an' shootin', I was bound to be there! They hit me time 'n' +again, but I didn't waste no unnecessary time in hospittles--I had to +git back to the boys." + +She was interested now; she forgot she was to sell him a handkerchief. +"Go on," she said. + +"It was great! You ought to heard the drums an' smelt the smoke, an' +felt your feet marchin' under you, an' your knapsack poundin' your +back--yes, sir, an' bein' hungry an' thirsty an' wore out! You'd ought +to seen how ragged the boys got, an' heard 'em whistlin' 'Through +Georgy' while they sewed on patches--oh, you'd ought to _whistled_ +'Through Georgy'!" + +The girl, watching the kindled old face, saw a shadow creep over it. + +"I useter--I useter--but someway I've lost it. It's pretty hard to've +_marched_ through Georgy an' forgot the tune about. Some days I +'most get holt of it again--I thought I could, on the organ, but I +can't, not the hull of it. Someway I've lost it--it's pretty hard. It +ha'nts me--if you ever be'n ha'nted, you know how bad it is." + +No, the girl who was leaning on the fence had never been ha'nted, but +her eyes were wide with pity for the old soul who had marched through +Georgia and forgotten the tune. + +"Some days I 'most ketch it. I don't suppose"--the old voice halted +diffidently--"I don't suppose _you'd_ whistle it, would you? Jest +through once--" + +But she could not whistle even once "Through Georgia." "I'm so sorry!" +she cried. "I can't whistle, or sing, or anything. I wish I could!" +She wished she were Billy; Billy could have done it. + +Old '61 marched on, up the dusty road, and the girl went back to her +tree. She had not sold any daisy-handkerchiefs, but she had her story to +tell the girls. She lay in the grass thinking of it. Once or twice she +pursed her lips and made a ludicrous ineffectual attempt to whistle, but +she did not smile. Jane Cotton's Sam clicked the gate, going out, but +she did not notice. When she did at last look up, and her gaze wandered +over the little yard aimlessly, she suddenly uttered a little note of +surprise. + +"Why!" she cried. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +For the pump was a blue pump! A miracle had been wrought while she mused +in the grass and listened to Old '61. The little old brown pump had +blossomed out gayly, brilliantly. + +"Why!" Then a subdued chuckle reached her from some nearby ambush out +beyond the fence. She put two and two together--the pump, the laugh, and +Jane Cotton's Sam. Six! Jane Cotton's Sam, while she was day-dreaming +and Marching through Georgia with Old '61, had painted the brown pump +blue! That was his business on Mrs. Camp's premises. Mrs Camp had +remembered--the dear, oh, the dear!--that she wanted a blue pump, and +had got the boy to come and make one. And now, down behind the fence +somewhere, the boy was laughing at her amazement. Well, let him +laugh--she laughed, too! Suddenly she began to clap her hands by way of +applause to her hidden audience. + +The pump itself was distinctly a disappointment. In gay-hued pictures, +seen by childish eyes, blue pumps accord with green grass and trees--in +nature, seen by maturer eyes, there is something wrong with the colors. +They look out of place--either the green growing things or the gay blue +pump do not belong there. The girl's loyalty to little, kind Emmeline +Camp would not let her admit that it was the blue pump that didn't +"belong." She was glad--glad--that it was blue, for it stood for a +thoughtful kindness to her, and thoughtful kindnesses had been rare in +her self-dependent, hustling life. + +"Hurrah for the blue pump!" she cried softly. She felt like going up to +it and hugging it, but fortunately she did not yield to the impulse. + +The other girls arrived at dusk. T.O., her knee in a chair, had hitched +laboriously from little kitchen to little dining-room and got supper. +Spent and triumphant, she waited in the doorway. She could hear their +voices coming up the road--Billy's excited voice, Laura Ann's gay one, +Loraine's calm and sweet. She longed to run out to meet them. Next best, +she sent her own voice, in a clear, long call. + +"That's T.O.! Girls, let's run!" she heard Billy say. + +"Why doesn't _she_ run?" Laura Ann demanded severely. "That would +be perfectly appropriate under the circumstances." + +"'Tis queer, isn't it, that she didn't come to meet us?" Loraine added. +In another moment they had reached Emmeline Camp's little green-painted +house and found the Talented One waiting impatiently at the gate. Things +explained themselves rapidly. Exclamations of pity crowded upon +exclamations of delight and welcome. Four happy young wage-earners sat +down to T.O.'s hardly-prepared little supper and four tongues were +loosed. Even Loraine did her part of the chattering. + +"I feel so nice and _placid_ already!" enthused Billy. + +"Oh, so do I!--so do I!" echoed Laura Ann. "It's such a comfort to get +one's chains off!--I felt mine slip off back there at that dear, funny +little station." + +"Oh, was _that_ what I heard clanking?" offered quiet Loraine, and +was promptly cheered. + +The meal was a merry one. And afterwards there was exploring to be done +about the little yard and orchard and up and down the road, in the dim, +sweet twilight, with the Talented One at the gate calling soft +directions. + +"And I've got a blue pump for you," she laughed. "Just wait till +daylight! Don't anybody feel of it in the dark to see if it's blue, +because you'll find it's green! There's a story goes with the pump and +one with its mother--I mean with the boy-who-painted-its mother! Placid +Pond is full of stories." + +"Nice, dozy, placid ones, I suppose," Laura Ann returned lightly. But +the Talented One shook her head. + +"Wait till you hear them," she said gravely. + +"Give us some of the titles to-night," coaxed Billy. They were all back +on the little doorsteps and the moon was rising, majestic and golden, +behind the trees. + +"Well--" she considered thoughtfully, "there's 'The Story of Amelia', +and the story of 'The Boy Who Didn't Pass', and the one of 'Old '61'--", + +"Oh, tell us--tell us!" Billy pleaded, and would not be refused. It was +never easy to refuse Billy. She had her way this time, and there in the +mellow night-light, with soft night-noises all about them, T.O. told her +stories. She had never told a story before in her life, and her voice at +first stumbled diffidently, but as she went on, a queer thing +happened--she did not seem to be telling it herself, but the little old +woman who loved Amelia seemed to be telling it! Then the Boy Who Didn't +Pass, then Old '61, in his tremulous, halting old voice. + +They listened in perfect silence, and even after the stories ended they +said nothing. Billy, quite unashamed, was crying over poor Old '61. + +"You'd have thought, wouldn't you," T.O. murmured after a while, "that +places like this would be humdrum-y and commonplace? But I guess there +are 'stories' everywhere. I'm beginning to find out things, girls." + +The next day began in earnest the long-yearned-for time of rest. It was +decided unanimously over the breakfast cups, to live and move, eat and +all but sleep, out of doors. To devote four separate and four combined +energies to having a good time. To abide by the rules and regulations +of the Wicked Compact--long live the Wicked Compact! Laura Ann made an +illuminated copy of it, framed it in a border of hurriedly-painted +forget-me-nots and hung it on the screen door, where they could not help +seeing it and "remembering their vows," Laura Ann said. It was a matter +of gay conjecture with them who would be the first to break the Compact. + +"And be driven out of the B-Hive--not I!" Billy said decisively. "I +shan't have the least temptation to break it, anyway--I feel selfish all +over! You couldn't drive me to do a good deed with a--a pitchfork!" + +"Me either--not even with a darning-needle!" laughed Laura Ann. "If +anybody asks me to lend her a pin, hear me say, 'Can't, my dear; it's +against the rules.' Needn't anybody worry about losing me out o' the +Hive!" + +"Loraine will be the one--you see," T.O. said lazily. "And what I want +to know is, how are we going to live without Loraine? I vote we append a +by-law. By-law I.: 'Resolved, that we except Loraine--just Loraine.'" + +"Second the motion," murmured Billy, on her back in the grass, nibbling +clover heads. + +"No," Loraine said severely, "I refuse to be put into a by-law." + + * * * * * + +The summer days were long days--lazy, somnolent days. The four girls +spent them each in her own separate way. Sometimes the little colony met +only at mealtimes--with glowing reports of the mornings' or afternoons' +wanderings. + +Billy, it was noticed, although like the rest she wandered abroad, made +no reports. Had she had a good time? Yes--yes, of course. Where had she +been all the morning or all the afternoon? Oh--oh, to places. Woods? +Yes--that is, almost woods. And more than that they failed to elicit. +Nearly every day she started away by herself, and after awhile they +noticed that she went in the same direction. She went briskly, alertly, +like one with a definite end in view. Now, where did Billy go? Their +vagrant curiosity was aroused, but not yet to the point of +investigation. + +Old '61 knew. Every morning since that first morning he had strained his +dim old eyes to catch a glimpse of a little figure coming blithely up +the road. On that first morning it had stopped in front of his little +house and said pleasant things to him as he sat on the doorsteps. He +remembered all the things. + +"Good-morning! It's a splendid day, isn't it?" + +And: "What a perfectly lovely place you live in! With the woods so near +you can shake hands with them out of your windows!" + +And: "Don't the birds wake you up mornings? I wonder what they sing +about up here." Then she had glanced at his ancient army coat and added +the Pleasantest Thing Of All: "I think they must sing Battle Hymns and +Red, White and Blue songs and 'Marching Through Georgia,' don't they?" + +"Not the last one," he had answered sadly. "They never sing that. If +they did, I'd 'a' learnt it of 'em long ago." + +"Do you like that one best--very best?" she had asked, and he liked to +remember how she had smiled. He had stood up then and thrown back his +old shoulders proudly. + +"Why, you see, marm," he had said simply, "I _marched_ through +Georgy!" + +The next morning, too, she had stopped and talked to him. But it was not +until the third time that he had ventured to ask her to whistle it. And +then--Old '61, now peering down the road for the blithe little figure, +thrilled again at the remembrance of what had happened. She had laughed +gently and said she did not know how to whistle, but if he would like +her to sing it-- + +There had been eight mornings all told, now, counting this morning, +which was sure to be. Yes, clear 'way down there somebody was comin' +swingin' along--somebody little an' happy an' spry. Old '61 began to +laugh softly. He could hardly wait for her to come and sit down on the +doorstep and sing it. Two or three times--she would sing it two or three +times. + +He had a surprise for her this morning. With great pains he had dragged +his cabinet organ out onto the little porch. It was all open, ready. +He went a little way down the road in his eagerness to meet her. + +"Good-morning!" Billy called brightly. "Am I late to-day?" + +"Jest a little--jest a little," he quavered joyously, "but I'll forgive +ye! There's somethin' waitin' up there--I've got a surprise for ye!" + +"Honest?" Billy stood still in the road, looking into the eager, +childish old face. "Oh, goody! I love surprises. Am I to guess it?" + +"No, no, jest to come an' play on it!" he quavered. Then a cloud settled +over his face and dimmed the delight in it. "Mebbe you don't know how +to?" he added, a tremulous upward lift to his voice. + +"How to 'play on' a surprise!" cried Billy. "Well, how am I to know +until I see it? I can play on 'most everything else!" + +They had got to the little front gate--were going up the little +carefully-weeded path--were very close to it now. Billy sprang up the +steps. + +"I can! I can!" she laughed. "Hear me!" Her fingers ran up and down the +keys, then settled into a soft, sweet little melody. Another and +another-- + +The old man on the lower step sat patiently listening and waiting. If +she did not play it soon, he should have to ask her to, but he would +rather have her play it without. Perhaps the next one-- + +The next one was beautiful, but not It--not _It_--not the Right +One. + +"There!" finished Billy with a flourish. "You see, I _can_ play on +a surprise!" She stopped abruptly at sight of the disappointed old face +below her. For an instant she was bewildered, then a beautiful instinct +that had lain unused on some shelf of Billy's mind came to life and +whispered to her what the trouble was. + +"Oh!" she cried softly, "Oh, I'm sorry I forgot!" She turned back to +the little organ and began to play again. + +[Illustration: THE OLD MAN SAT LISTENING AND WAITING.] + +Up went the sagging old head, up the sagging old shoulders! Old '61 was +back in "Georgy," marching through mud and pine-barrens, in cold and +hunger and weariness--with the boys, from Atlanta to the sea. Hurrah! +hurrah! the flag that made them free! + +He was not old, not alone and forlorn and cumbering the earth. He was +young and straight and loyal, defying suffering and death, with glory +and fame, perhaps, on there ahead. His country needed him--he was +marching through Georgia for his country. + +Billy played it over and over, untiring. A lump grew in her throat at +the sight of the old face down there on the lower step. For so much was +written on the old face! + +Suddenly Old '61 got up and began to march, swinging his old legs out +splendidly. Down the walk, down the road, he went, as far as the music +went, then came marching splendidly back. Head up, shoulders squared, +the "boys" marching invisible beside him and before him and behind him, +he was no longer Old '61, but Young '61. + +The next day Billy ate her breakfast quietly, helped clear away the +things, and went quietly away. She did not stop to read Laura Ann's +gay-painted "Compact" on the screen door. It might even have been +noticed, if anyone cared to notice, that she did not look at it, that +she hurried a little through the door, as if to avoid it. + +Old '61 was waiting at the gate. She smiled at the eager invitation she +read in his face. + +"No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis, "no, I'm not going to +play it this time. I'm going to teach you to play it! I shall be going +back to the city before long, and then what will you do when you want to +hear it? Perhaps you couldn't keep the tune in your head. I'm going to +show you an easy way to play it--just the air. I shall have to try it +myself first, of course. But I'm sure you can learn how, if you'll +practice faithfully." It was queer how her music-teacher tone crept back +into her voice. She laughed to herself to hear it. "Practice faithfully" +sounded so natural to say! + +She sat down at the organ and experimented thoughtfully, trying to +reduce the old man's beloved tune to its very lowest terms. After quite +a long time she nodded and smiled. + +Then began Old '61s music lessons. It was terrible work, like earning a +living with the sweat of the brow. But the two of them--the young woman +and the old man--bent to it heroically. For an hour, that first time, +the cramped old fingers felt their way over the keyboard; for an hour +Billy bent over them, patiently pointing the way. She had forgotten that +she was not to think of piano-notes now--that she had signed the Wicked +Compact. She had forgotten everything but her determination to teach Old +'61 to play "Marching through Georgia." And Old '61 had, in his turn, +forgotten things--that he was old, alone, a cumberer, everything but his +determination to learn It. + +It was not a scientific lesson. It did not begin with first principles +and creep slowly upward; it began in the middle, in a splendid, +haphazard, ambitious way. The stiff old hands were gently placed in +position for the first notes of the tune, the stiff old fingers were +pressed gently down, one at a time. Over and over and over the process +was repeated. It was learning by sheer brute patience and love. + +"That's all for the first lesson," Billy announced at the end of the +hour. "You've got those first notes well enough to practice them. +To-morrow we'll go a little bit farther." But she did not know the long, +patient hours between now and then that the old man would "practice," +crooked painfully over the keys. She did not reckon on the miracle that +might be wrought out of intense desire. + +The next morning Old '61 at the gate proclaimed proudly: + +"I've got it! I've got it! I can play an' sing fur as we've b'en! +It's ringin' in my head all the time." + +"Did the birds wake you up singing it?" Billy asked, smilingly. She, +herself, was all eagerness to learn of her pupil's progress. The lesson +began at once. Already, she found, the miracle had begun to work. The +old man sat down to the organ with a flourish that, if it had not been +full of pathos, would have been a little comedy act. After a brief +preliminary search the old fingers found their place and pounded out +triumphantly the few notes they had been taught. + +"Good! good!" applauded the teacher heartily. "Why, you do it +splendidly! Now we'll go on a little farther--this finger on this note, +this one here, your thumb _here_." She stationed them carefully and +the second lesson began. It was nearer two hours than one when it ended. + + * * * * * + +"Where have _you_ been, Billy?" Loraine asked at lunch. They had +all been describing their individual pursuits and experiences of the +morning. + +"Oh, to a place," answered Billy lightly. + +"What place?" Loraine persisted curiously. + +"Well," laughed Billy, "if you must know, I've been marching +through--oh, a _place_!" she concluded hastily, repenting herself. +"It was a pretty hard place, and I'm hungry as a bear. Wish somebody'd +say, 'Won't you have another piece of pie?'" + +"Won't you have another piece of pie?" laughed Loraine, and nothing +further was said of an embarrassing nature. + +The summer days grew into summer weeks. Patiently and joyously Old '61 +plodded his way to the sea. He practiced nearly all his waking hours, +and when he was not at the little organ, practicing, he went about +humming the beloved words. Pride and love, rather than any melody of his +cracked old voice, made a tune of them. + +His progress astonished his teacher. Her praise was impetuous enough for +further and greater exertions. One day Billy said the next time should +be an exhibition, when he should play it all--from "Atlanta to the +sea"--with her as audience, not helping, but sitting in a chair +listening. + +She came to the Exhibition in a white dress, with sweet-peas at her +waist. Her smiles at the foot of the steps changed to something like a +sob when she discovered that Old '61 had been decorating the organ and +the little porch. He, himself, was brushed and radiant, his old face the +face of a little child. + +"The audience will sit on the steps," Billy said, a little tremulously. +"Right here. Make believe I'm rows and rows of people! Now will you +please favor us by 'Marching through Georgia'?". + +He went at once to the little gayly-bedecked instrument and began to +play. The dignity and pride of the shabby old figure redeemed its +shabbiness--the fervor of the pounded notes redeemed the tune. The +audience--in "rows and rows,"--listened gravely, and at the end burst +into genuine applause. The sound swelled and multiplied oddly, and then +they saw the three figures at the gate who had listened, too. Billy was +discovered! + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +They escorted Billy home. It was rather a silent walk until the end. +Loraine spoke first. + +"One less in the B-Hive," she said sadly. + +"Yes, I suppose I'm dropped now," responded Billy, not uncheerfully. +"Of course I've got to take the consequences of my--my crime. But I don't +care!" she added with vivacity. "I'd rather live alone in a ten-story +house than have missed that Exhibition!" + +"Yes," mused Laura Ann thoughtfully, "it was a beautiful one. I'm glad +_I_ didn't miss it. When I think of what it stood for--" + +She broke off suddenly and slipped her hand into Billy's arm. Another +short silence. Then Laura Ann finished: "All the work and patience it +stood for, day after day--girls, when I think of that I feel--" + +"I know--all of us know," T.O. hastily interposed. "That's about the way +we all feel, I guess. No use talking about it, though. Billy's broken +the Compact and we're under oath to drop her." + +"Not till we go back to work," Loraine put in emphatically, "and then +she can live next door and come in every night to tea! There's nothing +in the Compact against that, is there? Well, then, I invite you, Billy, +for the very first tea!" + +"I accept!" laughed Billy. She did not seem at all depressed. In her +ears rang the pounding refrain of Old '61 marching through Georgia. + +Nothing more was said on this subject. A little picnic had been planned +for the afternoon, and they went briskly about making preparations for +it, as soon as they got back to Mrs. Camp's little green house. While +they worked they discussed Amelia. + +"If she hadn't gone with her mother we'd have taken her to the picnic +with us," the Talented One said, over her egg-beating. "I wonder if +Amelia likes picnics?" + +"Don't! You make me feel creepy," Laura Ann laughed. "What _I_ +wonder is how she'd have looked if she'd ever been born. I lay awake one +night trying to imagine Amelia." + +"Blue eyes and golden hair," Loraine chimed in dreamily, "and a little +dimple in her chin." + +"You needn't any of you lie awake nights imagining. I can tell you," the +Talented One said. "She has blue eyes, but her hair is brown and the +dimples are in her cheeks. Her hair just waves a little away from the +parting--it is always parted. She sits very still, sewing patchwork--her +mother told me," added the Talented One quietly. "She said she wished +she knew how to paint so she could paint Amelia's picture. She told me +where she'd like to have it hung--here in the dining-room, between the +windows. Amelia'd always been very real, she said, but the picture would +make her realer." + +"Did she ever say what kind of dresses Amelia wears?" asked Laura Ann +without looking up from her stirring. + +"No, I never asked, but they must be white dresses, I think,--Amelia is +such an innocent little thing," laughed T.O. softly. It was odd how they +always laughed or talked softly when it was about little make-believe +Amelia. + +The picnic was in the woods, in a lovely little spot Loraine had +discovered in her wanderings. A brook babbled noisily through the spot. +They spread their lunch at the foot of a forest giant and ate it +luxuriously to the tune the brook sang. It was hard to believe they had +ever been toilers in a great city. + +"There never were any public schools," murmured Loraine, lying back and +gazing into the thick mesh of leaves overhead. "Nobody ever said +'Teacher! Teacher!' to me." + +"There never were any negatives to be 'touched up'--nobody ever had +their pictures taken," Laura Ann murmured, dreamy, too. "I've always +been here beside this brook, lying on my back--what a beautiful world +it's always been!" + +The Talented One sat rigidly straight. "There have always been +handkerchiefs," she sighed, "and there always will be. I shall have to +go back there and sell them. When I look at all these leaves, it reminds +me--there are leaves on handkerchiefs, straggling round the +borders--ugh!" + +It was foolish talk, perhaps, but it was the place and the time for +foolish talk. After a little more of it they drifted apart, wandering +this way and that in a delightful, aimless way. So little of their four +lives had been aimless or especially delightful that they reveled in the +sweet opportunity. Loraine wandered farthest. She came after awhile to a +clearing where a small pond glimmered redly with the parting rays of the +sun. A great boy lounged beside the pond dangling a pole. Loraine +recognized him as Jane Cotton's Sam. + +"Oh!" she said, "now I've made a noise and scared away your fish!" + +"Ain't any fish," muttered the boy. He did not turn around. The pole +slanted further and further, till it lay on the bank beside the boy. + +"Oh, maybe there are, if you wait long enough--and nobody comes crashing +through the bushes! I don't suppose--I mean if you are not going to use +it any more yourself--" Loraine looked toward the idle pole. "I never +fished in my life," she explained. The boy understood with remarkable +quickness. + +"You mean you'd like to try it?" he asked, and this time turned round. +It was not at all a bad face on close inspection, Loraine decided. The +veil of sullenness had lifted a little. + +[Illustration: "I NEVER FISHED IN MY LIFE," SHE EXPLAINED.] + +"Oh, but I just would! Only if I should have an accident and catch +anything, whatever would I do! They--they are always cold and clammy, +aren't they?" + +Jane Cotton's Sam laughed outright, and Loraine decided that it was a +very good face. + +"I'll 'tend to all you catch," the boy said. He was busily baiting the +hook; now he extended the pole to her. + +"Wiggle it--up and down a little, like this," he directed, "and don't +make any more noise than you can help. If you feel a bite, let me know." + +"But I don't see how I can feel a bite unless they bite me--" + +Again the boy laughed wholesomely. They were getting acquainted. The +fishing began, and for what seemed to her a long time Loraine sat +absolutely still, dangling the pole. Nothing happened for a discouraging +while. Then Loraine whispered: "I feel a bite, but it's on my wrist! If +it's a mosquito I wish you would 'shoo' it off." + +Another wait. Then a real bite in the right place. In another moment +Loraine landed a wriggling little fish in the grass. She did not squeal +nor shudder, but sat regarding it with gentle pride. + +"Poor little thing! I suppose I ought to put you back, but you're my +first and only fish, and I've _got_ to carry you home for the girls +to see. You'll have to forgive me this time!" She turned to the boy. +"I suppose he ought to be dressed, or undressed, or something, before +he's fried, oughtn't he? I thought I'd like to fry him for breakfast, +to surprise the girls--" + +"I'll dress him for you," Jane Cotton's Sam said eagerly, "and bring +him over in the morning in plenty o' time." + +"Thank you," Loraine said heartily. "Now you'll have to let me do +something for you. 'Turn about is fair play.' Couldn't I--" She +hesitated, looking out over the still reddened water rather than at the +boy's face. "Couldn't I help you in some way with your studies? That's +my business, you know. It would really be doing me a kindness, for I may +get all out of practice unless I teach somebody something!" Had Loraine, +too, forgotten the Compact on the screen door? + +The boy fidgeted, then burst out angrily: "I s'pose they've all been +telling you I failed up in my exams? They have, haven't they? You +_knew_ it, didn't you?" + +"Yes," Loraine answered quietly. "But I've heard a good many worse +things in my life. I've heard of boys that smoked and drank and--and +_stole_. What does missing a few examinations amount to beside +things like those?" But the boy did not seem to have been listening to +anything except his own angry thoughts. All his sun-browned young face +was flooded with red; he had run his fingers through his hair till it +stood up fiercely. + +"They needn't trouble themselves 'bout me, nor you needn't, nor anybody +needn't!" he declaimed loudly. "Anybody'd think they were saints +themselves!" + +"And _I_ was a saint and everybody was saints!" laughed Loraine +softly. But Jane Cotton's Sam did not laugh. He went striding away into +the woods, his head flung up high. Loraine and the little dead fish were +left behind. Oddly the girl was not thinking of the boy's rudeness in +return for her kind offer of help, but of the flash of spirit in his +eyes. It augured well for him, she was thinking, for spirit was spirit, +although "gone wrong." In the right place, it should spur him on to a +second attempt to get into college. What if she were to persist in her +offer--were to work with him, urge him to work with her? + +But he had chosen to spurn her advances. She shook her head sadly. On +his own head be it. She turned her attention to the little dead fish. + +"You poor dear, you look so dead and forlorn--what am I going to do with +you? Someway you've got to go home with me and be fried." She took him +up gingerly, but dropped him again--he was so slippery and damp! Wrap +him in her handkerchief? But she had no pocket and she could never, +never carry him in her sleeve which she had adopted as a pocket. So then +she must leave him, must she? Poor little useless sacrifice! + +Back at the picnic spot the girls were waiting for her. They went home +in the late, sweet twilight. + +A letter was tucked under the screen door where some friendly neighbor +had left it. "Miss Thomasia O. Brown," Billy read aloud, and waved the +letter in triumph, for the secret was out. The 'T' in T.O. stood for +Thomasia! + +"Well?" bristled the Talented One, "it had to stand for something, +didn't it? It's awful, I know, but _I'm_ not to blame--I didn't +name myself, did I? I wish people could," she added with a sigh. + +"Is it for a _Thomas?_" questioned Laura Ann curiously. + +Thomasia nodded: "There was always a Thomas in the family until they got +to me. They did the best they could to make me one." She was opening the +letter with careful precision. "Why, of course, it's from Mrs. Camp!" +she cried delightedly. + +"My dear, I hope you are well and your friends have come, and Jane +Cotton's Sam has not forgotten to paint the pump. I arrived here safely +after a very long journey--my dear, I never dreamed the world was so +big! This part of it is well enough, but give me Placid Pond! Now I am +going to tell you something, and you may laugh all you're a mind to--I +sha'n't hear! What I'm going to tell is, _Amelia came_, too. After +I'd got good and settled down on the cars I looked up and knew she was +sitting right opposite, on the seat I'd turned over. She seemed +_there_--and you may laugh, my dear. I laughed, I was so pleased to +have Amelia along. John doesn't know she came--Amelia never makes a mite +of trouble! But everywhere I go she goes, my dear. I shouldn't tell you +if I didn't feel you'd understand. If he hasn't painted it yet, the blue +paint is on a shelf in the woodhouse, and you can paint it. I'm afraid +Jane Cotton's Sam won't ever amount to much. Poor Jane!" + +Thomasia read the letter aloud, and at this point Loraine interposed +warmly: "Jane Cotton's Sam is abused! It's a shame everybody groans over +him--_I_ like him. If there isn't a lot of good in him, then I don't +know how to read human nature, that's all." + +The next morning very early someone knocked at the kitchen door. It was +Laura Ann's turn to make the fire, and she answered the knock. Jane +Cotton's Sam stood on the steps outside. He had a mysterious little +package in his hand. He looked up eagerly, but it was evident from the +disappointed look on his face that Laura Ann was the wrong girl. And he +did not know the right one's name! + +"Good-morning!" nodded Laura Ann, sublimely unconscious of the +soot-patch over her nose. + +"Good-morning. I'd like to see--I've brought something for the one that +teaches school." + +"Loraine? But she isn't up yet--" + +"Yes, I am up, too," called a voice overhead, "but I won't be long! I'll +be _down_." + +It was a little fish, dressed and ready to fry, that was in the tiny +bundle. The boy extended it blushingly. Then his eyes lifted to +Loraine's in frank petition for pardon. + +"I was mighty rude," he said. "I went back to the pond to say so, but +you were gone. I beg your pardon." + +She liked the tone of his voice and his good red blushes. "That's all +right," she nodded reassuringly. But he did not go away. There was +something else. + +"If--you know what you said? If you'd offer _again_--" + +Loraine glanced over her shoulder. Laura Ann was rattling stove-lids at +the other end of the kitchen. "I offer _now_," Loraine said in a +low voice. + +"Then I accept." The boy's voice was eager. "I'll study like everything! +I thought about it in the night--I thought I'd like to surprise my +mother. If I could get into college next year--" His eyes shone. "Oh I +say, I'd do 'most anything for that!" + +The little plan was hurriedly made, in low tones, there on Emmeline +Camp's little doorsteps. The boy was to take his books to the pond where +Loraine had caught her fish. He was to study there alone for a time +every day, and in the afternoon she was to stroll that way and go over +the work with him and set him right in all the wrong places. + +"It was in Latin and mathematics I failed up," Jane Cotton's Sam +explained. + +"It's Latin and mathematics we'll tackle!" softly laughed Loraine. +"You wait--you see--you _grind!_" + +He strode away, whistling, and the tune was full of courage and +determination. Loraine smiled as she listened. She stood a moment, then +opened the screen door and went in. The "Compact" swung and tilted with +the jolt of her energetic movements. She adjusted it with a queer little +smile. + +For summer days on summer days the covert, earnest lessons went on +beside the bit of sunny water. Teacher and pupil pored intently over the +problems and difficult passages, and steadily the pupil's courage grew. +The old sullen look had vanished--Jane Cotton's Sam put on manliness and +a splendid swing to his shoulders. In her heart Loraine exulted. What if +she were disobeying the Compact--death to the Wicked Compact! + +Laura Ann suspected, but for reasons of her own kept her own counsel. +She had begun to suspect, when Jane Cotton's Sam brought the little +fish. At that time the "reasons of her own" had begun to influence her +and she had omitted to mention to Billy and T.O. that the boy had stood +on the doorsteps in earnest conversation with Loraine. Mentioning it to +Billy might not, indeed, have mattered, since Billy was already an +"outsider." But Loraine might not want T.O. to know, anyway. + +It was significant that Laura Ann, in going in and out, now chose to +ignore the gayly-illuminated placard that swung on the door--that she +herself had adorned and hung there. But she did not go in and out as +much now; for whole mornings she slipped away to a little attic room +upstairs and busied herself alone. + +It was getting grievously near the time to go back to the great city +again. Emmeline Camp was coming back then. + +All but T.O. mourned audibly the rapidly lessening days, but T.O. made +no useless laments. One day she surprised them. + +"Girls, I _want_ to go back!" she announced. "I shall be ready when +it's time--now anybody can say what anybody pleases. Scoff at me--do. +I expect it! But I'm getting homesick to see a street-car and a--a +policeman! It's lovely and peaceful here, but I've had my fill of it +now--I want to go home and bump into crowds and hear big, stirry noises. +It's different with you girls--you weren't born in the city; you didn't +play with street-cars and policemen and get sung to sleep by the noises! +I was tired--tired--and now I'm rested. I've had a perfectly beautiful +time, but I shall be ready to go back. Honestly, girls, it would break +my heart not to!" + +It was so much like T.O., Billy said, to keep all her feelings to +herself and then suddenly spring them on people like that, and take +people's breath away. Billy did not keep things to herself. + + * * * * * + +Jane Cotton came up the kitchen path one day when all but Loraine were +sitting on the doorsteps--Loraine had strolled nonchalantly down the +street as her afternoon habit was. + +"Well, I've found out!" announced Jane Cotton. She was beaming; her +sallow face was oddly cleared and lighted--her lips trembled with +eagerness to deliver her news. "I've _found out_! Where's the rest +o' you?" She counted them over. "It's the rest o' you I want--well, you +tell her I've found out. Tell her I hardly slept a wink last night, +I was so happy! Tell her I _bless_ her, and I know the Lord will. +They didn't want me to know yet but I couldn't help finding out. And +they won't mind when they know how happy it's made me--oh, I ain't +afraid but he'll pass this time! I know he will--I know it! You tell her +she's saved my boy." And without further delay the slender figure turned +and walked jubilantly down the path. It was as if she marched to the +melody of the joy in her heart. + +They looked at each other silently, then at the Wicked Compact behind +them. There did not seem any explanation needed. + +"Another one dropped," murmured T.O. sighingly. But Laura Ann said +nothing. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Laura Ann stole quietly away and went upstairs to the little attic room. +Close by the window was a rough little easel arrangement with a picture +on it. Laura Ann stood regarding it thoughtfully. "I wonder"--she smiled +at the whimsy of the thought--"I wonder if it looks like Amelia," she +murmured. + +It was not a wonderful picture. No committee would have hung it on a +"line." There were rather glaring errors in it of draughtsmanship and +coloring. But the face of the girl in it was appealingly sweet--brown +hair, blue eyes, little round chin. Laura Ann had not dared to put in +the dimples. + +"Dimples need a master," she said, "besides, they only show when you +smile, and I don't believe Amelia smiles very often!" + +She sat down and took up a brush. The picture was nearly done, but she +found touches to be added here and there. There might be a stray +lock--there, like that. And a little bit more shade under the chin, and +the wistful droop of the mouth relieved, oh, a very little bit! Amelia +looked so serious. + +"Poor little thing! Well, it's a serious matter to be a dream-child, +with not an ounce of good red blood in your veins." + +Laura Ann meant to slip back after they had started for the station, on +the last day, and hang the picture in the little sunny dining-room. She +did not want the girls to know there was a picture. But still--a new +thought had begun to obtrude itself unwelcomely. Was painting Amelia's +portrait a breach, too, of the Compact? She had undertaken it as a +little "offering" to Mrs. Camp, to show her own individual gratitude for +her own share of the dear little green cottage all these beautiful +weeks--T.O. had said Mrs. Camp had longed for a picture. But the fact +that it had taken many patient hours of work "unto others," was not to +be overlooked. If it had broken the rules of the Wicked Compact, and she +went back to the B-Hive without letting the girls know of it--oh, hum! +of course that would be another "wicked compact"! She would have to let +them know--and she didn't want to let them know--oh, dear! + +Suddenly Laura Ann dropped her paints and gave herself up to laughter. +She had remembered that only T.O.--Thomasia O.--would be left now in the +B-Hive! For all the rest had broken the Compact. Thomasia O., living all +alone in the dear, shabby little rooms, presented a funny picture, for +of them all she was least fitted to live alone. Even Billy could do +better. + +"The rest of us will live together," laughed Laura Ann. "There's nothing +to prevent that, if we live outside the old B-Hive. We'll start a new +B-Hive! Poor Thomasia O.!" + +They would miss T.O. very much indeed--well, they could invite her in to +tea and keep her all night! In spite of the wicked old Compact, they +would keep together. "And we'll never," vowed Laura Ann for them all, +"sign any more nefarious bonds!" + +She hung the picture of Amelia on the wall when they were all away, and +then went away herself. She stayed away until nearly dark. Thomasia O. +went to meet her. + +"I knew it all the time," she said quietly, without preface of any kind. +"It's a perfect likeness." + +"You knew it?" said Laura Ann. + +"Yes, I was prowling 'round one day, to see what attics were like, and +I found Amelia. Only her hair and her eyes, then, but I knew her. I'm +so glad poor Mrs. Camp will have that picture to help her bear her +troubles!" + +[Illustration: THE PICTURE WAS NEARLY DONE.] + +"Poor"--"troubles." This was all enigma to Laura Ann. But she wisely +waited to be enlightened. She had divined the moment she saw T.O. that +the girl was unusually disturbed. This was true. + +"I've had two letters--the first one came three weeks ago from her +brother. I didn't want to spoil your good time, telling sad things, +so I kept it to myself--Laura Ann, that woman _mothered_ me!" + +Laura Ann stood still. "Do you mean Mrs. Camp? Is she--dead?" But the +other did not seem to hear. She ran on in a low, troubled voice. + +"She bathed my ankle, and said 'My dear,' and waited on me, when she'd +never set eyes on me in her life before. How did she know but that I was +an--an _impostor_? And she let us have her dear little house to live +in--" + +"Yes, yes--oh, yes, she let _me_ live in it!" Laura Ann interposed. +"You ought to have told us she was dead." + +"She isn't dead. She's fallen downstairs and broken her hip. The doctor +says it's so bad she won't ever walk again without crutches, her brother +wrote. He said he wanted her to stay and live with him, but she wouldn't +listen to it. She wanted to come home as soon as she possibly could. So +she's coming--he's coming with her, to 'start' her." + +T.O. fingered a letter in her hand in a nervous, undecided way, as if +she were half inclined to read it to the other girl. It was not Emmeline +Camp's brother's letter. It had come ten days ago, and she herself knew +it by heart. How many, many times she had read it! She had cried over +the wistful cry in it, and over Amelia's death--for the letter said that +Amelia was dead. + +"My dear," it said, "I've lost Amelia--you'd think she would have stood +by her mother in her trouble, wouldn't you? But she hasn't been near me +since. It seems queer--perhaps after people break their hips they can't +'feel' anything else but their hips! Perhaps it breaks their +imaginations. Anyway, Amelia's dead, my dear. Sometimes I think mebbe +I'd ought to be, too--a lone little woman like me, without a chick or a +child. Old women with children can afford to tumble downstairs, but not +my kind of old women. John is real good. He wants me to stay here, but I +can't--I can't, I can't, my dear! I've got to be where I can limp out to +the old pump and the gate and the orchard, on my crutches--I've got to +see the old hills I was born in, and Old '61 marching past the house, +and the old neighbors--I've got to die at _home_, my dear. So John +can't keep me. I wish I was going to find you there. I keep thinking how +beautiful it would be. You'd be out to the gate waiting, the way +people's daughters wait for them. And mebbe you'd have the kettle all +hot and we'd have a cup of tea together just as if I was the mother and +you was--Amelia! All the way home I should be thinking about your being +there. It's queer, isn't it, you went limping in that gate first, and +now it's me? A good many things are queer, and some are kind of +desolate. I've decided, my dear, that daughters have to be the kind that +are born, to stay by a body in trouble. They have to be made of flesh +and blood, my dear--and Amelia wasn't! + +"I've written this a little to a time, laying on my back. Mebbe you +won't ever read it. Mebbe I won't ever see you again, but you will +remember, my dear, that I've loved you ever since I took off your +stocking and saw your poor, sprained ankle. If the Lord would perform +a miracle for me, I'd ask for it to be the bringing of Amelia to life +and finding her you." + +T.O. did not show the letter to Laura Ann. She put it in her pocket +again, and they walked home slowly, talking of Mrs. Camp's sad accident. +At the supper table it was voted that they all write a joint letter of +sympathy to her, and express, at the same time, their united and +separate thanks for her kindness to them in lending them her home. + +Loraine wrote the letter, Laura Ann copied it, they all signed it. Into +cold pen-and-ink words they tried to diffuse warmth and gratitude and +sympathy, but the result was not very satisfying, as such results rarely +are. Still, it was all they could do. Billy and Laura Ann went off to +mail it. + +"Do you begin to feel lonesome?" laughed Loraine softly, as she and T.O. +sat on the steps in the dark. "Thinking of being left all alone in the +Hive, I mean? The rest of us begin to feel lonesome, thinking of being +left out! We had a grist of good times all together, didn't we? Remember +the little 'treats' when you always brought home olives, and Billy sage +cheese? Laura Ann used to change about--sometimes eclairs, sometimes +sauerkraut! Always sardines for me. Oh, _do_ you remember the treat +with a capital 'T,' when we had ice cream and angel cake? And Billy +wanted to divide the hole so as not to waste anything--there, I don't +believe you've heard a word I said!" + +She had not, for she was not there. Loraine put out her hand in the +darkness, but could not find her. She had slipped away unceremoniously. + +She was down in the road, walking fast and hard. The battle was on +again. + +"I thought I had it all decided--I _did_ have! Why do I have to +decide it over again?" she was saying stormily to herself. "I said I'd +do it, and I'm going to do it--what am I down here fighting in the dark +for?" But still she fought on. + +It was so still about her, and with all her girl's heart she longed for +noise again--car-bells and rattling wheels and din of men's voices. +There were such wide spaces all about, and she longed for narrow +spaces--for rows on rows of houses and people coming and going. It was +the city-blood in her asserting itself. She had had her breath of space +and freedom and green, growing things, and exulted in it while it +lasted. Now she pined for her native streets. But all the sympathy and +gratitude in her went out to the little old woman who was coming home to +a lonely home--whose one dream-child was dead. + +No one had ever really needed her before--to be needed appealed to her +strongly. And in the short time between her own coming to Placid Pond +and the coming of the other girls, a bond of real affection had been +established between Mrs. Camp and herself. + +But hadn't she been over all this before? Long ago she had decided what +to do. Now, suddenly, she wheeled in the dark road and went hurrying in +the other direction. She would go back to Loraine on the doorstep, and +laugh and talk. She had decided "for good." + +The stars came trooping out, and she lifted her face to them with a new +sense of peace. They were such friendly, twinkling little stars. + +T.O. was humming a lilty little tune when she came up the path in the +starlight and joined Loraine again on the doorstep. + +The other two girls were coming slowly back from the little country post +office, both to hurry and have the pleasant walk over. Billy had been +saying nice things about the portrait of Amelia they had found hanging +on the wall. + +"It's a dear!" she said heartily. "I wish I could make a picture like +that." + +"You've made one a thousand times better!" cried Laura Ann. "I saw it +this afternoon." + +"_Me_--make a picture?" Billy's voice was incredulous. "I couldn't +draw my breath straight!" + +"It was a beautiful one. I stood still and looked at it. Your background +was fine, dear--woods banked against a late afternoon sky, with bits of +red light straggling through the branches, a little box of a house in +the foreground, with patches of new shingles on the 'cover'; a crooked +little front path, a funny little well, a little rosebush all a flame of +color--" + +"Mercy!" Billy's little triangle of a face put on alarm. Was Laura Ann +losing her mind? + +"But that--all that--was only the setting. The heart of the picture, +dear, was an old man marching up and down the path--did I say it was a +moving picture? He was whistling a tune in a wheezy way, and keeping +step to it grandly. Once he seemed to lose a few notes; then he went +into a little box of a house, and I heard an organ--" + +"Oh!" breathed Billy, assured of the other's sanity, "you mean Old '61 +practicing! That's the way he does--he's learning to march through +Georgia without the organ, but he misses a step or two sometimes. +_That_ was the picture, was it?" + +"It was a beautiful one," Laura Ann said softly. "You needn't tell me +you can't paint, Billy! That's the kind of pictures we shall find +hanging in the Great Picture Gallery." + +They walked on for a little in silence, with only the piping chorus of +the little night creatures in their ears. The sweet, cool damp was in +their faces. + +"Here we are at Jane Cotton's Sam's," Billy whispered by and by, to +break the spell. She could not have told why she whispered. + +"So we are. Billy, look, he's studying like a trooper! That boy is going +to walk straight into college in September! Let's go straight home and +hug Loraine--come on! Take hold of my hand, and we'll run." + +"Wait--wait! Look, there's another of your pictures, Laura Ann!" Billy's +lips were close to the other's ear; Billy was pointing. Into the little +lighted room where Jane Cotton's Sam sat poring over a book, had come +another figure. As they looked, it stopped beside the boy and bent over +him. + +"That's just the setting--all that," Laura Ann murmured. "The heart of +the picture is her face, Billy!" For Jane Cotton's face was radiant. + + * * * * * + +The day at last came for their return to the city and to the work they +were so much better able to do. The little, green-painted house was in +spotless order to leave behind. As Mrs. Camp was to come the following +day, they had filled the little pantry with food--not remarkably light +cake or bread, not especially flaky piecrust, but everything flavored +with sympathy and gratitude and good will. + +"Go on, all of you; I'll catch up," Billy said, as they stood on the +steps with the door locked behind them. "When you get out of sight I'm +going to kiss the house good-by!" + +"T.O. had better stay behind with you, to kiss the pump!" Loraine said. +"Or we'll all stay--I guess we can all find something to kiss." + +"Did anybody think to take down the Wicked Compact?" demanded Laura Ann +suddenly. "It would be awful to leave that behind." + +They were at the gate. T.O. stopped suddenly, pointing. What they saw +was a tiny, tiny mound, rounded symmetrically. "There it lies--I buried +it," T.O. said briefly, but added, "And let no one keep its grave +green!" They looked at her a little curiously. Perhaps they were +thinking that it might have been appropriate for her to take it home +with her and hang it on the wall to keep her company in the lonely +little B-Hive. But they only laughed and tramped on cheerfully to the +station. They were a little late, and had to run the last of the way. +The train was already in, and they scrambled aboard. + +"Well, here we are leaving Eldorado!" sighed breathlessly Loraine. + +"And all of us heart-broken but T.O.--girls, where's T.O.?" + +She was not there. The train was getting under way. In a flurry they +huddled to the windows. + +"Good-by! Good-by!" shouted a gay voice from the platform. A little +white envelope flew in at one of the open windows. T.O., quite calm +and unexcited, stood out there waving to them. + +"What in the world!" ejaculated Laura Ann, then stopped. For she alone +could see a little ray of light. "Read the letter," she said more +quietly. "The letter will tell us." + +They all read it together, their heads bunched closely. + +"Dear girls, I'm going to stay. I never was needed before, but I guess +I am now. And maybe you'll think it's funny, but I'm _wanted_! An +imaginary daughter can't wait on a poor little cripple--it takes the +flesh-and-blood kind. I found out she wanted me, and so I'm going to +stay. It would have been lonesome, anyway, all alone in the Hive! +I bequeath all my rights to you--" + +"As if she had any now, any more than the rest of us!" muttered Billy +fiercely, her eyes full of tears. + +"Sometimes when you're going and coming, some o' you listen to the +car-wires sing, for me, and the wheels rattle," the letter went on. +"Bump into somebody sometime for me! Good-by. You're all of you dears. + +"Amelia." + +At the signature they choked a little, and looked away at the flying +landscape without seeing it at all. Laura Ann saw another picture--a +girl waiting at a little gate. Woods and dusty road and humble little +homes for background, and an old stage rattling into view in the +foreground. She saw it stop--in the picture--and a helpless little old +figure be taken out. She saw the girl at the gate spring forward and +hold out her hands. But the heart of the picture was the face of the +little old woman on crutches. It was another picture for the Grand +Gallery. + +[Illustration] + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Four Girls and a Compact, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT *** + +***** This file should be named 9505.txt or 9505.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/9/5/0/9505/ + +Produced by Joel Erickson, David Garcia and PG Distributed Proofreaders +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive +specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this +eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook +for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, +performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given +away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks +not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the +trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the +Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country outside the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work +on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you + are located before using this ebook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format +other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain +Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +provided that + +* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation." + +* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm + works. + +* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The +Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm +trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the +mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its +volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous +locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt +Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to +date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and +official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/9505.zip b/9505.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1173cf6 --- /dev/null +++ b/9505.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9860abb --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #9505 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9505) diff --git a/old/gcomp10.txt b/old/gcomp10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..438e371 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gcomp10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2428 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Four Girls and a Compact, by Annie Hamilton Donnell +#3 in our series by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Four Girls and a Compact + +Author: Annie Hamilton Donnell + +Release Date: December, 2005 [EBook #9505] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 7, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT *** + + + + +Produced by Joel Erickson, David Garcia and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT + +By Annie Hamilton Donnell + + +1908. + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +"Wait for T.O.," commanded Loraine, and of course they waited. Loraine's +commands were always obeyed, Laura Ann said, because her name was such a +_queeny_ one. Nobody else in the little colony--the "B-Hive"--had a +queeny name. + +"Though I just missed it," sighed Laura Ann. "Think what a little step +from Loraine to Laur' Ann! I always just miss things." + +T.O. was apt to be late. She never rode, and, being short, was not a +remarkable walker. To-night she was later than usual. The three other +girls got into kimonos and slippers and prepared tea. In all their minds +the Grand Plan was fomenting, and it was not easy to wait. A cheer +greeted T.O. as she came in, wet and weary and cheerful. + +"You're overdue, my dear," Loraine said severely. But of course T.O. +laughed and offered a weak pun: + +"The 'dew' is over me, you mean! Oh, girls, this looks too cozy for +anything in here! All the way up town I've been blessing you three for +taking me in." + +Said Laura Ann: "If I were pun-mad, like some folks, I could do +something quite smart there. But there, you poor, wet dear! You sha'n't +be outdone in your specialty, no you sha'n't! Get off your things quick, +dear--we're all bursting to talk about the Grand Plan." + +It was, after all, Billy that started in. Billy was very tired indeed, +and her lean, eager face was pale. + +"Girls, we _must!_" she said. "I can't hold out more than a few +weeks more. I shall be a mental wreck and go 'round muttering, +_one_-two--three--four, _one_--two--three--four--flat your b's, +sharp your c's--one--two--three--four--_play!_" For Billy all day +toiled at pianos, teaching unwilling little persons to play. Billy's +long name was Wilhelmina. + +They were all toilers--worker-B's. The "B" part of the name which they +had given to the little colony came from the accident of all their +surnames beginning with that letter--Brown, Bent, Baker, Byers. It was, +they all agreed, a happy accident; the "B-Hive" sounded so well. But, +as Laura Ann said, it entailed things, notably industry. + +Laura Ann finished negatives part of the day to earn money to learn to +paint the other part. She was poor, but the same good grit that made her +loyal to her old grandmother's name, unshortened and unbeautified, gave +her courage to work on toward the distant goal. + +Loraine taught--"just everlastingly taught," she said, until she could +do it with her eyes shut. Cube root, all historic dates, all x, y, z's, +were as printing to her, dinned into the warp and woof of her by patient +reiteration. She was very tired, too. The rest of the long June days +stretched ahead of her in weary perspective. + +That these three had drifted together in the great city was sufficiently +curious, but more curious yet was the "drifting together" of T.O.--a +plain little clerk in a great department store. She, herself, humbly +acknowledged that she did not seem to "belong," but here she was, +divesting herself of her wet wraps and getting ready for tea in the tiny +flat. Handkerchiefs, initialed, "warranted,"--uninitialed, +unwarranted--were behind her and ahead, but between she forgot their +existence and took her comfort. + +"Well?" she said presently. "I'm ready." They sat down to the simple +little meal without further delay and with the first mouthfuls opened +again the rather time-worn discussion. Could they adopt the Grand Plan? +Oh, _couldn't_ they? To get out of the hot, teeming city and +breathe air enough and pure enough, to luxuriate in idleness, to +_rest_--to a girl, they longed for it. They were all orphans, and +they were all poor. The Grand Plan was ambitious, indefinite, but they +could not give it up. They had wintered it and springed it, and clung +to it through bright days and dark. + +Suddenly Loraine tapped sharply on the table. "All in favor of spending +the summer in the country say 'aye,'" she cried, "and say it hard!" + +"Aye!" + +"Aye!" + +"Aye!" + +"_Aye_!" appended Loraine, and said it hard. "It's a vote," she +added calmly. Then, staring at each other, they sat for a little with +rather frightened faces. For this thing that they had done was rather a +stupendous thing. T.O. recovered first--courage was as the breath of her +little lean nostrils. + +"Girls, this is great!" she laughed. "_We've gone and done it!_ +There's nothing left but to pack our trunks!" + +"Except a few last trifles, such as deciding where to go and what to pay +for it with," put in Laura Ann with soft irony. "We could decide those +things on the train, I suppose--" + +"Let's decide 'em on the spot," rejoined T.O. imperturbably. "Somebody +propose something." + +Here Billy was visited with one of her inspirations and promptly shared +it with her usual generosity. "We must hunt up a place to--er--'bunk' +in--just bunk and board ourselves. Of course we can't afford to +_be_ boarded--" + +"Of course," in chorus. + +"Well, then, one of us must go out into the waste places--oh, anywhere +where the grass has room to grow and there are trees and birds and +_barns_--I stipulate barns." Billy made a splendid, comprehensive +gesture that took in all the points of the compass impartially. "One +of us must take a few days off and go and hunt up a nice, inexpensive +little Eldorado for us. There!--there, my friends, you have the +solution of your knotty little problem in a nutshell. I gladly give +my 'services' free." + +"Who's going?" demanded practical Laura Ann. "Does anybody kindly +volunteer?" + +No volunteers. Silence, broken only by the chirp of the cheery little +teakettle. The immense responsibility of setting the Grand Plan in +motion was not to be lightly assumed. The utter vagueness of Billy's +"waste places" was dismaying, to say the least. There might be many +nice, inexpensive little Eldorados waiting to be "bunked" in and +picnicked in, but where? The world was full of places where there were +trees and birds and barns, but to pick out the particular one where +four tired-out young toilers could lay down their tools and rest +_inexpensively_, looked like a big undertaking. + +Billy had settled back in her chair with an air of having done her part +and washed her hands of further responsibility. The rest must do their +parts now. Billy, who was the youngest and frailest of the little colony +of workers, had fallen into the way of dropping asleep whenever +opportunity offered; she did so now with a little sigh of contentment. +Her girlish face against the faded crimson back of the chair looked +startlingly white. In her sleep she moved her lips and the others caught +a pathetic little "_one_-two-three-four" dropping from them. Poor +Billy! She was giving a music lesson in her dreams! + +Loraine made a little paper shade and shielded her pale face from the +light, and Laura Ann tilted the clumsy patent rocker backward and +trigged it with a book. Both their faces, tired, too, and pale, were +sweet with kindness. T.O., who did queer and unexpected things, went +round the table on her toes and kissed Billy's forehead openly. Her face +had a puckering frown on it, oddly at variance with the kiss and with +the look in her eyes. The kiss and the look were the things that +mattered--the frown was a thing of insignificance. + +"You poor little blessed!" she murmured. + +"'Flat your b,'" murmured Billy wearily, and no one laughed. They were +all laughers, but the picture of Billy toiling on monotonously in her +sleep failed to appeal to them as humorous. T.O. went back silently to +her seat. + +What the initials T.O. stood for in the way of a name had been the +subject of much guessing in the B-Hive, for the owner of the initials +refused whimsically to explain them. Perhaps she would sometime when the +moon was full or the wind was in the right quarter, she said. Meanwhile +T.O. did well enough--as well as "Billy," anyway, or "Laura Ann"! And +they fell in gayly with her whimsy and called her T.O. The nearest they +had ever come to an answer to their guesses was one night when they had +been discussing "talents" and comparing "callings," and T.O. had sat by, +a wistful little listener and admirer. For T.O. had no talent, and who +would call selling handkerchiefs from morning till night a "calling"? +Even sheer, fine handkerchiefs, warranted every thread linen! + +"Talentless One," she broke out startlingly. "You want to know what +'T.O.' stands for--that's it!" And the amused look in the girls' eyes +changed quickly to understanding at sight of her face. "Well," she +challenged, "why don't you say what an appropriate name it is? It's a +wonder you _talented_ ones didn't guess it long ago! Listen! +Loraine's talent is writing--we all know she'll be an author some day. +Laura Ann's is art. Oh, you needn't laugh--need she, girls? One of these +days we're all going to a 'hanging,' and _it'll be Laura Ann's!_ +Billy's talent everybody knows. She can play wicked folks good, if +there's a piano handy. Well, what is my talent? Don't everybody speak at +once!" The girl's flushed face defied them. It was bitter with longing +to be a Talented One. + +[Illustration: "YOU POOR LITTLE BLESSED!" SHE MURMURED.] + +"Dear!" It was like gentle Loraine to begin with a "dear," and like her, +too, to cross the room to T.O. and touch her little bitter face with +cool fingers. "Dear, don't you worry--your talent is _there._" + +"Where?" demanded T.O. Then she laughed. "I suppose you mean buried in +a handkerchief! But I shall never be able to dig it out--never! There's +such an awful pile of them on top! They keep piling on new ones every +day. If I keep on selling handkerchiefs till I'm seventy-five, I'll +never get down to my talent." + +It was, after all, quite true, though none of them would acknowledge +it--except the Talentless One herself. She was, as she insisted, the odd +one in the busy little B-Hive. Her very face, small and dark and lean, +was an "odd" one; the faces of the other three were marked by an +indefinable something that she called talent, and she was not far wrong. +A subtle refinement, intellectuality, asserted itself gently in all +three of them. The dark little face of T.O. was vivacious and keen, but +not refined or intellectual. + +Billy was the baby "B," as Loraine was the acknowledged queen. They all +favored Billy and took care of her. Was it a rainy morning? Somebody got +Billy's rubbers, somebody else her umbrella! Was the child paler than +usual? She must have the softest chair and be babied. Poor little +toiler-Billy, created to have a mother and a home, to sit always in soft +chairs and be taken care of! Yet without them all she was making a +splendid struggle for independence, with the best of them, and they were +conscious of a certain element of heroism in her toiling that none of +the rest of them laid claim to in their own. The other B.'s were proud +of Billy. + +T.O. was as small and thin as Billy, but no one thought of taking care +of T.O. or babying her. Instead, T.O.--the Talentless One--took care of +them all. She had always been a toiler, always been alone, and to the +rest it was comparatively a new experience. T.O., as she herself said, +was able to give them all "points." + +While tired Billy slept to-night, the Grand Plan discussion was taken up +again and entertained with new enthusiasm. It was now a definite Plan, +since they had voted unanimously to adopt it--it was no longer merely +a unanimous wish, to be bandied about longingly. It remained only to +choose a brave soul to go forth and find for it a "local habitation." + +"When Billy wakes up, we'll draw lots," Loraine decided gently. "The one +who gets the longest slip _will go_--but mercy! I hope I sha'n't be +the one! Girls, there really ought to be one to--er--oversee the drawing +of the lots--" + +"Hear! Hear!" from T.O. + +"You will take your chances with the common herd, my dear," Laura Ann +said firmly. "You really need not be alarmed, though, for I shall draw +the fatal slip. I always do. Then I shall go up-country and engage four +boards at a nice white house with green blinds, and forget to ask how +much they will cost--the 'boards,' I mean--and whether they'll take +Billy at half-price. You'll all like my white house, but you won't be +able to stay more than one night on account of the expense. So you'll +turn me out of the B-Hive and I shall--" + +"Oh, don't do anything else--don't!" T.O. groaned. "That will be doing +enough." + +"We shall have to find a _very_ cheap place," Loraine said, +thoughtfully, too intent on the fate of the Grand Plan to listen to +pleasantries. "Somewhere where it won't cost much of anything." + +"Such an easy place to find!" murmured Laura Ann. "I see myself going +straight to it!" + +"We've _got_ to go to it, on account of--" Loraine nodded toward +the sleeping little figure in the softest chair. "Girls, Billy is all +worn out." + +"So are you," Laura Ann said tenderly. + +"And you," retorted Loraine. + +The Talentless One, unintentionally left out, sighed an infinitesimal +sigh, preparatory to smiling stoutly. + +"Of course we're going to find the right place," she said convincingly. +"You wait and see. _I_ see it now"--this dreamily; it was odd for +the Talentless One to be dreaming. "It looks this way: Green, grassy and +pine-woodsy and roomy. And cornfields--think of it!" + +"'Woods and cornfields--the picture must not be over-done,'" quoted +softly and a little accusingly Laura Ann. But the Talentless One had +never heard of Miss Cary's beautiful poem, and went on calmly: + +"And a--pump. Girls, if _I_ find the 'Eldorado,' there'll be a +pump--painted blue!" + +Here Billy woke up. There was no time to discountenance the pump. + +"Why, I believe I've been asleep!" Billy laughed restedly. "And I've +been somewhere else, too. Guess!" + +"To Eldorado," someone ventured. + +"Well, I have. It was the loveliest place! There weren't any pianos or +schools or photograph salons or _handkerchiefs_ in it!" + +"Then we'll go there!" the Talentless One cried. + +Loraine was busy cutting strips of paper. She cut four of varying +lengths and dropped them into an empty cracker-box. + +"Somebody shake them up, everyone shut her eyes and draw one," she +ordered. "And the person that draws the longest slip must be the one +to find our Eldorado." + +They shut their eyes and fumbled in the cracker-box. The room was oddly +quiet. Laura Ann, who always drew the fatal slip, breathed a little +hard. + +But the lot fell to the Talentless One. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +"Why, I didn't get it!" exclaimed Laura Ann, in surprise. "And maybe I'm +not thankful! Poor T.O.!" + +"Yes, poor T.O.!" agreed Loraine and Billy. The honor of drawing the +longest slip was not, it appeared, a coveted one. But T.O. actually +beamed! + +"Needn't anyone pity me!" she said, briskly. "I like it! You see," she +added, explanatorily, "I never did anything remarkable before! Of course +I sha'n't blame you girls any if you shake in your shoes while I'm gone, +but I'll promise to do my little best. If you thought you could trust +me--" + +"We do! We do!" Loraine said, warmly, speaking for them all. "And we +pity you, too, poor dear! It looks like an awful undertaking to me." + +"How long can you take? Are you sure they'll let you get off down at +Torrey's?" asked Billy, languidly. + +"Oh," the Talentless One said, calmly, "I shall get a substitute, of +course. They let the girls do that, if the substitute suits 'em. There's +a girl that used to be at the handkerchief counter that will be glad +enough to earn a little money, I know. She'll be tickled! And she can +keep the place open for me when I get back from the country in the +fall--" Suddenly the Talentless One laughed out joyously. "Hear me! +'When I get back from the country!' Doesn't that sound splendid! Makes +me think of cows and chickens and strawberries and--" + +"Pumps painted blue!" laughed Laura Ann. "We're in for a blue pump, +girls!" + + * * * * * + +The substitution at the handkerchief counter could not be arranged +for at once, so the proposed voyage of discovery was a little delayed. +Meanwhile the Grand Plan and a newly-born family of lesser plans +occupied the interim of waiting. One thing they all agreed upon. +It was tired little Billy who voiced it. + +"We won't be good this summer, will we? I've been good so long that +I want to rest!" + +"It would seem comfortable not to have to be, wouldn't it?" Loraine +laughed. As if Loraine could rest from being good! "Not to have to do +anything for anybody--just be good to yourself! Now, I call that the +luxury of selfishness! And really, girls, we deserve one little +luxury--" + +"We'll indulge ourselves," T.O. nodded gravely. "I'm sure I've been +polite to people and patient with people long enough to have a +vacation--a summer vacation!" + +"Give me a paper and pencil, somebody, quick!" This from Laura Ann. +She fell to scribbling industriously. The purring of her pencil over +the paper had a smooth, wicked sound as if it were writing wicked things. +It was. + +"Be it known," read Laura Ann, flourishing her pencil, "that we, the +undersigned, having endeavored, up to the present, to be good, consider +ourselves entitled to be selfish during our summer vacation. That we +mean to be selfish--that we herewith swear to be! That we do not mean to +'do good unto' anybody except ourselves! Inasmuch as we have faithfully +tried to do our several duties hitherto, we feel justified in resting +from the same until such time as we may--er--wish to begin again. + +"Furthermore, resolved: That any or all persons hereunto subscribed, who +fail to keep the letter of this compact, be summarily _dropped!_" + +(Signed) "LAURA ANN BYERS." + +The paper went the rounds and was soberly signed by each girl in turn. +Loraine, the last, traced three words in her tiny handwriting at the +head of the paper. + +"The Wicked Compact!" read Billy over her shoulder, and nodded +agreeingly. "That's a good name for it. Doesn't it make you feel lovely +and shuddery to belong to a Wicked Compact! Oh, you needn't think I +shall go back on the rules and regulations! If somebody gets down on his +knees and implores, 'Which note shall I flat?' I shall turn coldly away, +or else say, 'Suit yourself, my dear!' But, girls, oh girls, I hope +there won't be any pianos in Eldorado!" + +"Probably there will be only cabinet organs--don't worry, dear!" soothed +Laura Ann. + + * * * * * + +The day after the Wicked Compact was drawn up and signed, T.O. started +on her quest for Eldorado. She would have no one escort her to the +station; she would give no intimation of her plans. They were all to +wait as patiently as possible till she came back. It was only because +she had to, poor child, that she accepted the contributions of the +others toward her expenses of travel. + +At the station she straightened her short stature to its utmost and +approached the ticket window. She might have been, from her splendid +dignity of manner, six feet instead of five. + +"Will you please tell me which road is the cheapest to travel on?" she +asked, clearly, undismayed outwardly, inwardly quailing before the +ticket man's amazement. His curious eyes surveyed her through the little +opening. + +"Why--er--well, there's the most competition on the X & Y Road," he +said, slowly. "The rates on that line are about down to the limit--" + +"Thank you," the dignified one said, and turned away. She found the time +table of the X & Y Road on the station wall, and studied it +thoughtfully. She had resolved to select the place with the most +promising name. Back at the ticket window she patiently waited her turn +in a little stream of people. The woman ahead of her was flourishing a +dainty, embroidered handkerchief, and she wondered idly if it had come +from her counter at Torrey's. If so, why was it not a little white flag +of truce that gave her a right to say "How do you do?" to the woman? +The Talentless One suddenly felt a little lonely. + +"Ticket to Placid Pond, please," she said, when her turn came. The very +sound of the peaceful little name gave her courage. Placid Pond! Placid +Pond! Could any place be more indicative of rest? Then she bethought her +of the Wicked Compact, and felt almost impelled to hand back the +ticket--Placid Pond could not be the right place to be bad in! + +But it was too late! + +"Two-twenty," the ticket man said, monotonously, and she fumbled in her +lean, little purse. To Placid Pond she would go, and, if there were +barns and cornfields and a blue-painted pump--the thrill of expectancy +ran through her veins, and she forgot the Wicked Compact. + +The Talentless One had never glided through green places like this +before, between slow, clear little streams, by country children waving +their hats. She had never seen far, splendid reaches of hills, +undulating softly against the sky. Wonder and delight filled her. She +found herself envying the little, brown children who waved their hats. + +"It's pretty, ain't it?" a fresh, old voice said in her ear. When she +turned, it was to look into a fresh, old face behind her. + +"Ain't it a pretty world the Lord's made? The 'firmament showeth his +handiwork,' don't it? Where are you going to, deary?" + +"A place called Placid Pond," answered the girl, smiling back. + +"_No?_ Well, I declare! That's where Emmeline Camp lives that was a +Jones an' spelt out o' my spellin'-book! If you see Emmeline, you tell +her you saw me on the cars. Emmeline and I have always kep' up our +interest in each other. She'll be tickled--you tell her I've learnt that +leaf-stitch at last! She'll understand!" + +The thin, old voice tinkled on pleasantly in the Talentless One's ears. + +"Come back here an' set with me, deary, an' I'll tell you which house is +Emmeline's, so, if you go past, you'll know it--it's painted green! Did +you ever! But Emmeline was always set on green. She was married in a +green silk, an' we girls said she married a green husband!" + +T.O. laughed enjoyingly. She began to feel acquainted with Emmeline, and +to hope she should find the green house--perhaps it would be the +Eldorado house! Wonders happened sometimes. + +"I don't suppose--there isn't a blue pump, is there? I've set my heart +on a blue pump!" she laughed, as if the little, old woman who knew +Emmeline would understand. The little, old woman smiled delightedly--as +if she understood! + +"Dear land, no! I hope Emmeline ain't painted her pump blue--and her +livin' in a green house! But she'd go out an' do it--it would be just +like Emmeline, if she knew anybody wanted a blue pump! Here we are, +deary! This is Placid Pond we're coming to! You see that sheet o' water, +don't you? Well, that's it!" + +The Talentless One buttoned her jacket and clutched her little black +bag. Her thin cheeks bloomed suddenly with tiny red spots of excitement. +She seemed on the edge of an Adventure; and, to one who had stood behind +a counter nearly all her days, an Adventure began with a capital A. +The train slowed up and stood panting--in a hurry to go again. + +"Oh, I wish you were going to get out here!" T.O. said, wistfully. + +The little, old woman seemed like an old friend to her. She felt oddly +young and inexperienced. Then, remembering the girls left behind in the +B-Hive and their confidence in her, she threw up her small head and +hurried away valiantly. + +"Good-by!" she called back, from the bit of platform outside. + +"Good-by! Give my love to Emmeline!" nodded and beamed the little, old +face in the car window. + +It was a tiny place. T.O. could see only the great, placid sheet of +water and the diminutive station at first. She accosted the only human +being in sight. + +"Which way is the city--village, I mean?" she asked. + +He was an old man and held a scooped palm behind his ear. + +"Eh?" + +"The village--please direct me to it." + +"Well," he laughed good-humoredly, "all the village they is you'll +strike yonder," pointing. "You keep a-goin', an' you'll git thar!" + +She thanked him and set out courageously. She kept "a-goin'." The +country road was shady and dusty and sweet with mystic, unseen, growing +things. Her feet, used to hard pavements, sank into the soft dust +luxuriously. She breathed deep and swung along at a splendid pace. It +was hard to believe that she was a clerk at Torrey's! There did not seem +to have ever been handkerchiefs in the world--even all-linen, warranted +ones! + +"This is Eldorado!" she said aloud, and was proud of herself for finding +it so soon--coming straight to it! Lucky she had been the one to draw +the longest strip. + +She passed one or two houses, but none of them were painted green. She +said to herself she would keep on to "Emmeline's" house. The whim had +seized her and was holding on tight that Emmeline's might be the Right +Place. So she swung on buoyantly. + +[Illustration: "WHICH WAY IS THE VILLAGE?" SHE ASKED.] + +A stone wall bordered the road on one side, and over the wall she spied +a sprinkling of little flowers that called, "Come and pick us!" to her. +She did not know that they were bluets, but she knew they were dainty +and sweet and beckoned to her. She paused an instant uncertainly, and +then climbed the wall. It was rather an arduous undertaking for a clerk +at a handkerchief counter, and she went about it clumsily. The wall was +high and the stones "jiggled" in a terrifying way. One big stone climbed +down on the other side with her--they went together unceremoniously. + +The Talentless One laughed a little under her breath as she sat up among +the little flowers, but she was not quite sure that she wanted to laugh. +The big stone was on her foot and she regarded it with disfavor. It +required considerable strength to roll it off--then she got up. Then she +sank down again very suddenly. + +"Oh!" she cried, sharply. For several moments she said nothing more, did +nothing more. The discovery she had made was not a pleasant discovery. +In Eldorado clumsy people who could not climb stone walls came to grief. +She had come to grief. When she moved her foot, terrible twinges of pain +were telegraphed all over her body. She sat, a sorry little heap, among +the stranger flowers that had brought about her ruin. The roadway +stretched dustily and emptily up and down, on the other side of the +wall. + +"Oh!" breathed the Talentless One. It had been a sigh before, now it was +a groan. What was she to do? A sort of terror seized her. She had never +been really frightened before. The beautiful country about her no longer +was beautiful. It was no longer Eldorado to her. + +Then she discovered a green fleck down the road, a different green from +the grass and trees. If it should be Emmeline's house--if she could get +to it! + +"I must!" she said, and hobbled to her feet. Somehow she got over the +wall, and went stumbling toward the green spot. The agony in her foot +increased every moment; she grew dizzy with it. + +It must be Emmeline's house--a little, green-painted one beside the +road! There could not be two green houses in Placid Pond. With a long +breath of relief she got to the door. After that she did not know +anything for a little time, then her eyes opened. Someone with a kind, +anxious face was bending over her. It was Emmeline! It looked like the +face of an old friend to the poor, little Talentless One. + +"There, there, poor dear! Never mind where you be, or who I be--you +'tend right to gettin' out o' your faint! Sniff this bottle--there! +You'll be all right in a minute. It's your foot, ain't it? It's all +swollen up--how'd you sprain it?" + +She had the injured foot in her tremulous old hands, gently loosening +the shoe. The girl, though she winced with pain, did not utter a sound. + +"There ain't any doctor this side of Anywhere," the kind voice ran on, +"but never you mind. I'll risk but what I've got liniments that will +doctor you up." + +And the girl, looking up into the peaceful old "lineaments," smiled +faintly, and knew there was healing in them. Even in her throbbing pain +she could think of this new pun that she would regale the girls with +when she got back to them--if she ever got back! + +"You are 'Emmeline,' aren't you!" she presently questioned, feebly, like +an old woman, for the pain seemed to have made her old. "I'm so glad you +are Emmeline!" + +Poor dear, she was wandering in her mind, and no wonder, with a foot +swollen up like that! It was queer, though, hitting on the right name +in that way. + +"There! there! Yes, I am Emmeline, though I might've been Sophia or +Debby Jane! Namin' people is sort o' accidental. I always wished they'd +named me somethin' prettier by accident! But I guess Emmeline will have +to do." + +It was long after this before any explanation was made. The fact that +it was Emmeline was enough for those first hours. + +"Now, you kind of bear on to yourself, poor dear! This boot has got to +come off!" the kind voice crooned. But, in the awful process of "bearing +on," the Talentless One shot out into the dark, as if pushed by a heavy +hand. How long it was before she came back into the light she did not +know--it seemed to be a point of light that pricked her eyes. She shut +them against it, and longed to drift away again; the dark had been cool +and pleasant. + +It was a lighted lamp on a tiny, round table. She found it out the next +time she opened her eyes. She was in a little bedroom, on the bed. The +door was open, and a voice drifted in to her: + +"She was coming to beautifully when I left her. I thought mebbe she'd +feel more at home to come to alone. I've got her ankle all dressed nice, +but it would make your heart ache to see it! The poor dear won't walk +again this one while--" + +"But, Emmeline Camp, what are you going to do with her all that time?" +The second voice was a little shrill. + +"Sh! I'm goin' to doctor her up, just as if she was the little girl the +Lord never gave me. I've always known what I'd do if my little girl +broke anything--There! you'll have to excuse me, Mrs. Williams, while +I take this cup o'tea in." + +It is odd how many little confidences can be exchanged in the time of +cooling and drinking a cup of tea. The caller had gone away, and the old +woman and the girl were left alone. Little by little the story of the +B-Hive and the quest for an Eldorado came out. Emmeline Camp sat and +nodded, and clandestinely wiped her eyes. + +"I see--I see, deary! Now, don't you talk any more and get faint again. +I'll talk. You no need to worry about anything in the world--not yet! +When it's time to commence, I'll tell you. How does your foot feel now? +Dear, dear! When I was fussing over it, it seemed just as if it was my +little Amelia's foot! I've always known what I'd do if she sprained +hers, and so I did it to yours, deary!" + +"Is Amelia your daughter?" + +The old face wavered between a smile and tears. "Yes," she nodded, "but +she warn't ever born. It's a kind of a secret between me and the Lord. +He knows I've made believe Amelia. I've always been kind of lonesome, +an' she's been a sight of company to me. She's been a good daughter, +Amelia has!" Now it was a smile. "We've set an' sewed patchwork +together, ever since she grew up. When she was little--there, deary, +hear me run on! But you remind me so much of Amelia. You can laugh just +as much as you want to at me runnin' on like this about a little girl +that warn't ever born--mebbe laughin' will help your foot." + +She took up the empty cup and went away, but she came back and stood a +minute in the doorway. + +"There's this about it," she laughed, in a tender, little way, "if she +warn't ever born, she won't ever die. I sha'n't lose Amelia!" + + * * * * * + +To the three girls waiting at the B-Hive came a letter. They read it, +three heads in a bunch: + +"Eldorado, June 26. + +"Come whenever you want to. Directions enclosed." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +There was a postscript. It was like T.O. to put the most of the letter +into the postscript. + +"P.S.--Never call me the Talentless One again" (as if they ever had!), +"when I came straight to the Eldorado--tumbled right into it. I've +decided to stay here until you come--please tell my substitute so. I +know she'll be so glad she'll throw up her hat. Bring your sheets and +pillow-cases. Come by way of the X. & Y. R.R. to a place called Placid +Pond." + +The three readers, bunched together over the letter, uttered a cry of +delight. "Placid Pond!"--of all the dear, delightful, placid names! The +very look of it on paper was restful; it _sounded_ restful when you +said it over and over--"Placid Pond. Placid Pond. Placid Pond." + +"Oh, she's a dear--she's an _artist!_" cried Laura Ann, who +measured all things by their relationship to art. This was an own +cousin! + +"Read on--somebody hold the letter still!" Billy cried excitedly. And +they read on: "Take the only road there is to take, and keep on to a +house that's painted green. It will be Emmeline's house, though they +might have named her Sophia, she says, by accident. But you will be glad +she is Emmeline. She has a beautiful daughter that never was born and +never will die--oh, girls, come as quick as ever you can!" + +Yours, "The Talented One." + +"P.S. No. 2.--Don't climb any stone walls. The stones are not stuck on." + +For a tiny space the three girls looked at each other in silence. The +letter in Loraine's hand was a masterpiece, full of enticing mysteries +that beckoned to them to come and find the "answers." What kind of an +Eldorado was this that was called Placid Pond, and was full of +mysteries? How could they wait! They must pack up and go at once! + +"'Talented One,' indeed!--she's a genius! See how she's left us to guess +things, instead of explaining them all out in a nice, tame way--oh, +_girls_"--Laura Ann's eyes shone--"won't we have the greatest +time!" + +"What I want to know is, who is Emmeline--" + +"Yes, who is Emmeline?" + +"And who _can_ her daughter _be_? She sounds so lovely and ghostly!" + +"Everything sounds lovely and ghostly. When can we go, girls?" This from +practical Loraine. "_I_ can't till after the Fourth." + +"Nor I," groaned Billy, dolefully. + +"I could, but I shall not--I shall wait for you two," Laura Ann said +quietly. + +Loraine turned upon her. "You needn't," she said, "now that you've +signed the compact--you can do whatever you _want_ to now, you +know. Needn't think of anybody but yourself." + +"The privilege of being selfish doesn't begin till we get to Eldorado," +laughed Laura Ann. "You'll see what I do then!" + +It was arranged that they should start on the fifth of July. "With our +sheets and pillow-cases," appended Billy. No one thought of writing to +T.O. for further particulars. No one wanted further particulars. The +uncertainly and mystery that enveloped Eldorado was its greatest charm. +They speculated, to be sure, at odd moments, as to the identity of the +person who might have been Sophia but was Emmeline, and they wrestled a +little with the hidden meaning of Postscript Number Two. Why were they +especially bidden not to climb stone walls? And _why_ was the +Talented One "staying over" till they came? + +"Why? Why? Why?" chanted Billy, "but don't anybody dare to guess why! +Who wants to know!" + +"Not me!" echoed ungrammatically Laura Ann. + +While they waited and speculated mildly, and packed and repacked their +things, T.O. lay on the bed in Emmeline Camp's little bedroom and winced +with pain whenever she moved her wounded foot. But she was very happy. +"Peace is in my soul, if not my _sole!_" she thought, a slave still +to the punning habit. She had never been so peaceful in her life. The +little old woman who had befriended her bustled happily in and out of +the little bedroom. She bathed and rubbed the swollen ankle, and smiled +and chattered to the girl at the other end of it. Her "lineaments" were +working a cure, surely. + +It had all been decided upon. The B-Hive was to be transplanted for the +summer to the little, green-painted house trailed over with +morning-glory vines and roses. Emmeline Camp had wanted, she said, for +forty years, to go upon a long journey, to visit her brother. Here was +her chance. The small sum she had at last consented to be paid for the +use of her little house would pay her traveling expenses one way, at +least, and John would be glad enough, she said, to pay her fare home, +to get rid of her! Only she was quite able to pay it herself. + +"I've kind of hankered to go to see John all these years. Forty years is +quite a spell to hanker, isn't it? But I never felt like leaving the +house behind, and I couldn't take it along very conveniently, so I +stayed to home. And then--my dear, you can laugh as well as not, but +I didn't like to leave Amelia." + +"But you might have taken her with--" + +"No," seriously, "I couldn't 've taken Amelia. I think, deary, it might +'ve killed her; she's part of the little house and the morning-glories +and roses. I'd have had to leave Amelia if I'd gone, and it didn't seem +right." + +"But now--" + +"Now," the little, old woman laughed in her odd, tender way that "went +with" Amelia, "now she'll have plenty of young company--all o' you here +with her. I shall make believe she's coming and going with you, and +it'll be a sight of comfort. Yes, deary, I guess this is going to be my +chance to visit John." + +"And our chance to have a summer in the country," completed the Talented +One. "Oh, I think you are--_dear_! Whatever will the other girls +say when I tell them about you!" + +One day T.O. remembered the blue pump. She gazed out of the window at +the brown one in the little yard. "Who would have thought," she sighed, +"that I could be so happy without a blue pump!" + +"What's that, deary?" The little, old woman was sewing patchwork near by. + +"Oh," laughed the girl, "I always _did_ want a pump that was +painted blue. I saw a picture of one once when I was a little mite, and +it impressed me--such a lovely, bright blue! I thought it went +beautifully with the green grass! But I can get along without it, I +guess." + +"We have to get along without having things painted to suit us," nodded +the little, old woman philosophically. But she remembered the blue pump. +There was a can of paint out in the shed room, and there was Jane +Cotton's Sam. + +Jane Cotton's Sam was a "feature" of Placid Pond--a whole set of +features, T.O. said. He was a lumbering, awkward fellow, well up to the +end of his teens, the only hope of widowed Jane. The Lord had given him +a splendid head, but the Placid Pond people were secretly triumphing in +the knowledge that Sam had failed to pass in his college examinations, +"head or no head." Jane had always boasted so of Sam's brains, and +predicted such a wonderful future for him! All her soul was set on Sam's +success--well, wasn't it time her pride had a fall? Mebbe now she'd see +Sam wasn't much different from other people's boys. + +Jane's heart was reported to be broken by the boy's failure, and Sam +went about sulkily defiant. He made a great pretense of lofty +indifference, but maybe he didn't care!--maybe not! Emmeline Camp knew +in her gentle old heart that he cared. She worried about Sam. + +All this the Talented One learned, little by little, in the way country +gossip is learned. She learned many other things, too, about the +neighbors--things that she lay and pondered about. It seemed queer to +find out that even a placid little place like this, set among the +peaceful hills, had its tragedies and comedies--its pitiful little +skeletons behind the doors. + +"That's Old '61," Mrs. Camp said, pointing to an old figure in the road. +"See him go marching past!--he always marches, as if he heard drums +beating and he was keeping time. I tell 'em he _does_ hear 'em. +He lives all alone up on the edge o' the woods, and folks say he spends +most all his time trying to pick march tunes out on the organ. A few +years ago he got some back pension money, and up and spent it for a +cabinet organ! Dear land! it seemed a pity, when he might have got him +some nice clothes or something sensible. But there he sets and sets over +that organ, trying to pick out tunes! Well,"--the gentle old voice took +on charity--"well, if that's his way of being happy, I s'pose he's got +as good a right to it as I have to--Amelia," a whimsical little smile +lighting up the old face, but underlying it the tenderness that the girl +on the bed had come to look for whenever any reference was made to +Amelia. + +"We've all got our idiosyncreases," added Emmeline Camp, "only some of +'em's creased in a little deeper'n others. I guess mine and Old '61's +are pretty considerable deep!" + +The early July days were cloudless and full of hot, stinging noises. +T.O. crawled out to lie in the grass under a great tree, and exult in +room and freedom and rest. Her ankle was still very painful, but she +regarded it with philosophical toleration: "You needn't have climbed a +stone wall, need you? Well, then, what have you to complain of? The best +thing you can do is to keep still." Which was, without doubt, the truth. +"Anyhow, it isn't becoming in you to be so puffed up!" + +It was decided that Mrs. Camp should start on her trip before the other +girls arrived. Hence, on the morning of the day they had set to come, +the little old woman and her bags and bundles rode away down the dusty +country road. Her lean, brown, crumpled old face had an exalted +expression; the joy of anticipation and the triumph of patient waiting +met in it and blended oddly. It was a great day for Emmeline Camp. + +"Good-by, deary. Keep right on rubbing, and don't go to walking 'round. +There's some cookies left in the cooky-crock, and a pie or two on the +shelf to kind of set you going. Take good care o' yourselves." + +"And Amelia," whispered the girl, drawing the old face down to her. +"We'll take good care of Amelia." + +It was a little lonely after the old stage rumbled away. The Talented +One turned whimsically to Amelia for company. She tried to imagine her, +as the little old woman did, but in vain. She could not conjure up the +sweet, elusive face, the hair, the eyes, the grave little mouth of +Amelia. The little old woman had taken away with her love, the key. She +must have taken Amelia away with her, too, the girl thought, smiling at +her own fancy. So, for company, she must wait until Loraine and Billy +and Laura Ann came, on the further edge of the day. She lay in the cool +grass, and made beatific plans for all the long, lazy days to come. No +hurrying, or worrying--each one for herself, happy in her own way. Only +themselves to think of for the space of a golden summer! + +"I am glad she took Amelia," the girl in the grass laughed softly. +"We'd never be able to keep to the Compact with Amelia 'round--Amelia +would never have signed a 'Wicked Compact'!" Which, in the event of +gentle, unsinning Amelia ever having been born, might or might not have +been true. It would have been harder work, reflected the girl in the +grass, for Amelia to have been unsinning and gentle, if she had been born. + +Jane Cotton's Sam came lounging down the road, cap over one eye, face +surlily defiant. T.O. watched him with displeasure. So that was the kind +of a boy that gave up? Poor kind of a boy! Why didn't he try it again, +especially when his poor mother's heart was breaking? Didn't he know +that giving up was worse than failing in his examinations? Somebody +ought to tell him--why, he was stopping at Mrs. Camp's little front +gate! He was coming in! + +The girl lying in the long grass under the tree sat up hurriedly. Quick, +quick! what was his name? Oh, yes, Sam! + +"Good-morning, Sam," she said pleasantly. But the boy, with a mere nod +of his splendidly-modeled head, hurried away toward the tiny barn. The +girl had seen the dark flush that mounted upward from his neck over his +pink and white cheeks. + +"Poor thing! He knows _I_ know that he didn't pass--that is the +only 'out' about living in the country: everybody knows everything. +Well, if it makes him blush, then his mother needn't break her heart +_yet_. I like the looks of that boy, if he does go 'round +scowling." Whereupon the Talented One promptly dismissed Jane Cotton's +Sam from her meditations. It did not occur to her to question his right +to be on Mrs. Camp's premises. She lay back in the grass and took up +again the interrupted thread of her musings. By gentle degrees odd +fancies took possession of her. + +[Illustration: THE BOY, WITH A MERE NOD, HURRIED AWAY.] + +The sprinkling of great, white daisies in the grass beside her--suppose, +now, this minute, they changed into white handkerchiefs, spread out on +a green counter! Then she would have to sell them to passers-by; it was +her business to sell handkerchiefs. Someone was coming marching up the +road--suppose she tried to sell him one, for the fun of it!--to make a +good story for the girls. Laughing, she got up and leaned on the fence. +She "dared" herself to do it. Then, courteously, "Can I sell you +anything in handkerchiefs to-day? Initialed, embroidered--" + +The marching feet stopped. Shrewd old eyes studied her face and +twinkled, responsive to the harmless mischief visible in it. + +"You got any with flags on--in the corners or anywhere? Or drums on?" +It was Old '61. "Or red, white an' blue ones? I'd like one o' +_them_--I fit in the war," explanatorily. + +"Yes?" The saleswoman was not especially interested in the war; it is +not the way with many of her kind to be interested in things. + +"I fit clear through--in the Wilderness, and Bull Run, an' plenty more. +They couldn't get rid o' me, the enemy couldn't! No, sir, where there +was marchin' an' shootin', I was bound to be there! They hit me time 'n' +again, but I didn't waste no unnecessary time in hospittles--I had to +git back to the boys." + +She was interested now; she forgot she was to sell him a handkerchief. +"Go on," she said. + +"It was great! You ought to heard the drums an' smelt the smoke, an' +felt your feet marchin' under you, an' your knapsack poundin' your +back--yes, sir, an' bein' hungry an' thirsty an' wore out! You'd ought +to seen how ragged the boys got, an' heard 'em whistlin' 'Through +Georgy' while they sewed on patches--oh, you'd ought to _whistled_ +'Through Georgy'!" + +The girl, watching the kindled old face, saw a shadow creep over it. + +"I useter--I useter--but someway I've lost it. It's pretty hard to've +_marched_ through Georgy an' forgot the tune about. Some days I +'most get holt of it again--I thought I could, on the organ, but I +can't, not the hull of it. Someway I've lost it--it's pretty hard. It +ha'nts me--if you ever be'n ha'nted, you know how bad it is." + +No, the girl who was leaning on the fence had never been ha'nted, but +her eyes were wide with pity for the old soul who had marched through +Georgia and forgotten the tune. + +"Some days I 'most ketch it. I don't suppose"--the old voice halted +diffidently--"I don't suppose _you'd_ whistle it, would you? Jest +through once--" + +But she could not whistle even once "Through Georgia." "I'm so sorry!" +she cried. "I can't whistle, or sing, or anything. I wish I could!" +She wished she were Billy; Billy could have done it. + +Old '61 marched on, up the dusty road, and the girl went back to her +tree. She had not sold any daisy-handkerchiefs, but she had her story to +tell the girls. She lay in the grass thinking of it. Once or twice she +pursed her lips and made a ludicrous ineffectual attempt to whistle, but +she did not smile. Jane Cotton's Sam clicked the gate, going out, but +she did not notice. When she did at last look up, and her gaze wandered +over the little yard aimlessly, she suddenly uttered a little note of +surprise. + +"Why!" she cried. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +For the pump was a blue pump! A miracle had been wrought while she mused +in the grass and listened to Old '61. The little old brown pump had +blossomed out gayly, brilliantly. + +"Why!" Then a subdued chuckle reached her from some nearby ambush out +beyond the fence. She put two and two together--the pump, the laugh, and +Jane Cotton's Sam. Six! Jane Cotton's Sam, while she was day-dreaming +and Marching through Georgia with Old '61, had painted the brown pump +blue! That was his business on Mrs. Camp's premises. Mrs Camp had +remembered--the dear, oh, the dear!--that she wanted a blue pump, and +had got the boy to come and make one. And now, down behind the fence +somewhere, the boy was laughing at her amazement. Well, let him laugh-- +she laughed, too! Suddenly she began to clap her hands by way of +applause to her hidden audience. + +The pump itself was distinctly a disappointment. In gay-hued pictures, +seen by childish eyes, blue pumps accord with green grass and trees--in +nature, seen by maturer eyes, there is something wrong with the colors. +They look out of place--either the green growing things or the gay blue +pump do not belong there. The girl's loyalty to little, kind Emmeline +Camp would not let her admit that it was the blue pump that didn't +"belong." She was glad--glad--that it was blue, for it stood for a +thoughtful kindness to her, and thoughtful kindnesses had been rare in +her self-dependent, hustling life. + +"Hurrah for the blue pump!" she cried softly. She felt like going up to +it and hugging it, but fortunately she did not yield to the impulse. + +The other girls arrived at dusk. T.O., her knee in a chair, had hitched +laboriously from little kitchen to little dining-room and got supper. +Spent and triumphant, she waited in the doorway. She could hear their +voices coming up the road--Billy's excited voice, Laura Ann's gay one, +Loraine's calm and sweet. She longed to run out to meet them. Next best, +she sent her own voice, in a clear, long call. + +"That's T.O.! Girls, let's run!" she heard Billy say. + +"Why doesn't _she_ run?" Laura Ann demanded severely. "That would +be perfectly appropriate under the circumstances." + +"'Tis queer, isn't it, that she didn't come to meet us?" Loraine added. +In another moment they had reached Emmeline Camp's little green-painted +house and found the Talented One waiting impatiently at the gate. Things +explained themselves rapidly. Exclamations of pity crowded upon +exclamations of delight and welcome. Four happy young wage-earners sat +down to T.O.'s hardly-prepared little supper and four tongues were +loosed. Even Loraine did her part of the chattering. + +"I feel so nice and _placid_ already!" enthused Billy. + +"Oh, so do I!--so do I!" echoed Laura Ann. "It's such a comfort to get +one's chains off!--I felt mine slip off back there at that dear, funny +little station." + +"Oh, was _that_ what I heard clanking?" offered quiet Loraine, and +was promptly cheered. + +The meal was a merry one. And afterwards there was exploring to be done +about the little yard and orchard and up and down the road, in the dim, +sweet twilight, with the Talented One at the gate calling soft +directions. + +"And I've got a blue pump for you," she laughed. "Just wait till +daylight! Don't anybody feel of it in the dark to see if it's blue, +because you'll find it's green! There's a story goes with the pump and +one with its mother--I mean with the boy-who-painted-its mother! Placid +Pond is full of stories." + +"Nice, dozy, placid ones, I suppose," Laura Ann returned lightly. But +the Talented One shook her head. + +"Wait till you hear them," she said gravely. + +"Give us some of the titles to-night," coaxed Billy. They were all back +on the little doorsteps and the moon was rising, majestic and golden, +behind the trees. + +"Well--" she considered thoughtfully, "there's 'The Story of Amelia', +and the story of 'The Boy Who Didn't Pass', and the one of 'Old '61'--", + +"Oh, tell us--tell us!" Billy pleaded, and would not be refused. It was +never easy to refuse Billy. She had her way this time, and there in the +mellow night-light, with soft night-noises all about them, T.O. told her +stories. She had never told a story before in her life, and her voice at +first stumbled diffidently, but as she went on, a queer thing +happened--she did not seem to be telling it herself, but the little old +woman who loved Amelia seemed to be telling it! Then the Boy Who Didn't +Pass, then Old '61, in his tremulous, halting old voice. + +They listened in perfect silence, and even after the stories ended they +said nothing. Billy, quite unashamed, was crying over poor Old '61. + +"You'd have thought, wouldn't you," T.O. murmured after a while, "that +places like this would be humdrum-y and commonplace? But I guess there +are 'stories' everywhere. I'm beginning to find out things, girls." + +The next day began in earnest the long-yearned-for time of rest. It was +decided unanimously over the breakfast cups, to live and move, eat and +all but sleep, out of doors. To devote four separate and four combined +energies to having a good time. To abide by the rules and regulations +of the Wicked Compact--long live the Wicked Compact! Laura Ann made an +illuminated copy of it, framed it in a border of hurriedly-painted +forget-me-nots and hung it on the screen door, where they could not help +seeing it and "remembering their vows," Laura Ann said. It was a matter +of gay conjecture with them who would be the first to break the Compact. + +"And be driven out of the B-Hive--not I!" Billy said decisively. "I +shan't have the least temptation to break it, anyway--I feel selfish all +over! You couldn't drive me to do a good deed with a--a pitchfork!" + +"Me either--not even with a darning-needle!" laughed Laura Ann. "If +anybody asks me to lend her a pin, hear me say, 'Can't, my dear; it's +against the rules.' Needn't anybody worry about losing me out o' the +Hive!" + +"Loraine will be the one--you see," T.O. said lazily. "And what I want +to know is, how are we going to live without Loraine? I vote we append a +by-law. By-law I.: 'Resolved, that we except Loraine--just Loraine.'" + +"Second the motion," murmured Billy, on her back in the grass, nibbling +clover heads. + +"No," Loraine said severely, "I refuse to be put into a by-law." + + * * * * * + +The summer days were long days--lazy, somnolent days. The four girls +spent them each in her own separate way. Sometimes the little colony met +only at mealtimes--with glowing reports of the mornings' or afternoons' +wanderings. + +Billy, it was noticed, although like the rest she wandered abroad, made +no reports. Had she had a good time? Yes--yes, of course. Where had she +been all the morning or all the afternoon? Oh--oh, to places. Woods? +Yes--that is, almost woods. And more than that they failed to elicit. +Nearly every day she started away by herself, and after awhile they +noticed that she went in the same direction. She went briskly, alertly, +like one with a definite end in view. Now, where did Billy go? Their +vagrant curiosity was aroused, but not yet to the point of +investigation. + +Old '61 knew. Every morning since that first morning he had strained his +dim old eyes to catch a glimpse of a little figure coming blithely up +the road. On that first morning it had stopped in front of his little +house and said pleasant things to him as he sat on the doorsteps. He +remembered all the things. + +"Good-morning! It's a splendid day, isn't it?" + +And: "What a perfectly lovely place you live in! With the woods so near +you can shake hands with them out of your windows!" + +And: "Don't the birds wake you up mornings? I wonder what they sing +about up here." Then she had glanced at his ancient army coat and added +the Pleasantest Thing Of All: "I think they must sing Battle Hymns and +Red, White and Blue songs and 'Marching Through Georgia,' don't they?" + +"Not the last one," he had answered sadly. "They never sing that. If +they did, I'd 'a' learnt it of 'em long ago." + +"Do you like that one best--very best?" she had asked, and he liked to +remember how she had smiled. He had stood up then and thrown back his +old shoulders proudly. + +"Why, you see, marm," he had said simply, "I _marched_ through +Georgy!" + +The next morning, too, she had stopped and talked to him. But it was not +until the third time that he had ventured to ask her to whistle it. And +then--Old '61, now peering down the road for the blithe little figure, +thrilled again at the remembrance of what had happened. She had laughed +gently and said she did not know how to whistle, but if he would like +her to sing it-- + +There had been eight mornings all told, now, counting this morning, +which was sure to be. Yes, clear 'way down there somebody was comin' +swingin' along--somebody little an' happy an' spry. Old '61 began to +laugh softly. He could hardly wait for her to come and sit down on the +doorstep and sing it. Two or three times--she would sing it two or three +times. + +He had a surprise for her this morning. With great pains he had dragged +his cabinet organ out onto the little porch. It was all open, ready. +He went a little way down the road in his eagerness to meet her. + +"Good-morning!" Billy called brightly. "Am I late to-day?" + +"Jest a little--jest a little," he quavered joyously, "but I'll forgive +ye! There's somethin' waitin' up there--I've got a surprise for ye!" + +"Honest?" Billy stood still in the road, looking into the eager, +childish old face. "Oh, goody! I love surprises. Am I to guess it?" + +"No, no, jest to come an' play on it!" he quavered. Then a cloud settled +over his face and dimmed the delight in it. "Mebbe you don't know how +to?" he added, a tremulous upward lift to his voice. + +"How to 'play on' a surprise!" cried Billy. "Well, how am I to know +until I see it? I can play on 'most everything else!" + +They had got to the little front gate--were going up the little +carefully-weeded path--were very close to it now. Billy sprang up the +steps. + +"I can! I can!" she laughed. "Hear me!" Her fingers ran up and down the +keys, then settled into a soft, sweet little melody. Another and +another-- + +The old man on the lower step sat patiently listening and waiting. If +she did not play it soon, he should have to ask her to, but he would +rather have her play it without. Perhaps the next one-- + +The next one was beautiful, but not It--not _It_--not the Right +One. + +"There!" finished Billy with a flourish. "You see, I _can_ play on +a surprise!" She stopped abruptly at sight of the disappointed old face +below her. For an instant she was bewildered, then a beautiful instinct +that had lain unused on some shelf of Billy's mind came to life and +whispered to her what the trouble was. + +"Oh!" she cried softly, "Oh, I'm sorry I forgot!" She turned back to +the little organ and began to play again. + +[Illustration: THE OLD MAN SAT LISTENING AND WAITING.] + +Up went the sagging old head, up the sagging old shoulders! Old '61 was +back in "Georgy," marching through mud and pine-barrens, in cold and +hunger and weariness--with the boys, from Atlanta to the sea. Hurrah! +hurrah! the flag that made them free! + +He was not old, not alone and forlorn and cumbering the earth. He was +young and straight and loyal, defying suffering and death, with glory +and fame, perhaps, on there ahead. His country needed him--he was +marching through Georgia for his country. + +Billy played it over and over, untiring. A lump grew in her throat at +the sight of the old face down there on the lower step. For so much was +written on the old face! + +Suddenly Old '61 got up and began to march, swinging his old legs out +splendidly. Down the walk, down the road, he went, as far as the music +went, then came marching splendidly back. Head up, shoulders squared, +the "boys" marching invisible beside him and before him and behind him, +he was no longer Old '61, but Young '61. + +The next day Billy ate her breakfast quietly, helped clear away the +things, and went quietly away. She did not stop to read Laura Ann's +gay-painted "Compact" on the screen door. It might even have been +noticed, if anyone cared to notice, that she did not look at it, that +she hurried a little through the door, as if to avoid it. + +Old '61 was waiting at the gate. She smiled at the eager invitation she +read in his face. + +"No," she said, shaking her head for emphasis, "no, I'm not going to +play it this time. I'm going to teach you to play it! I shall be going +back to the city before long, and then what will you do when you want to +hear it? Perhaps you couldn't keep the tune in your head. I'm going to +show you an easy way to play it--just the air. I shall have to try it +myself first, of course. But I'm sure you can learn how, if you'll +practice faithfully." It was queer how her music-teacher tone crept back +into her voice. She laughed to herself to hear it. "Practice faithfully" +sounded so natural to say! + +She sat down at the organ and experimented thoughtfully, trying to +reduce the old man's beloved tune to its very lowest terms. After quite +a long time she nodded and smiled. + +Then began Old '61s music lessons. It was terrible work, like earning a +living with the sweat of the brow. But the two of them--the young woman +and the old man--bent to it heroically. For an hour, that first time, +the cramped old fingers felt their way over the keyboard; for an hour +Billy bent over them, patiently pointing the way. She had forgotten that +she was not to think of piano-notes now--that she had signed the Wicked +Compact. She had forgotten everything but her determination to teach Old +'61 to play "Marching through Georgia." And Old '61 had, in his turn, +forgotten things--that he was old, alone, a cumberer, everything but his +determination to learn It. + +It was not a scientific lesson. It did not begin with first principles +and creep slowly upward; it began in the middle, in a splendid, +haphazard, ambitious way. The stiff old hands were gently placed in +position for the first notes of the tune, the stiff old fingers were +pressed gently down, one at a time. Over and over and over the process +was repeated. It was learning by sheer brute patience and love. + +"That's all for the first lesson," Billy announced at the end of the +hour. "You've got those first notes well enough to practice them. +To-morrow we'll go a little bit farther." But she did not know the long, +patient hours between now and then that the old man would "practice," +crooked painfully over the keys. She did not reckon on the miracle that +might be wrought out of intense desire. + +The next morning Old '61 at the gate proclaimed proudly: + +"I've got it! I've got it! I can play an' sing fur as we've b'en! +It's ringin' in my head all the time." + +"Did the birds wake you up singing it?" Billy asked, smilingly. She, +herself, was all eagerness to learn of her pupil's progress. The lesson +began at once. Already, she found, the miracle had begun to work. The +old man sat down to the organ with a flourish that, if it had not been +full of pathos, would have been a little comedy act. After a brief +preliminary search the old fingers found their place and pounded out +triumphantly the few notes they had been taught. + +"Good! good!" applauded the teacher heartily. "Why, you do it +splendidly! Now we'll go on a little farther--this finger on this note, +this one here, your thumb _here_." She stationed them carefully and +the second lesson began. It was nearer two hours than one when it ended. + + * * * * * + +"Where have _you_ been, Billy?" Loraine asked at lunch. They had +all been describing their individual pursuits and experiences of the +morning. + +"Oh, to a place," answered Billy lightly. + +"What place?" Loraine persisted curiously. + +"Well," laughed Billy, "if you must know, I've been marching +through--oh, a _place_!" she concluded hastily, repenting herself. +"It was a pretty hard place, and I'm hungry as a bear. Wish somebody'd +say, 'Won't you have another piece of pie?'" + +"Won't you have another piece of pie?" laughed Loraine, and nothing +further was said of an embarrassing nature. + +The summer days grew into summer weeks. Patiently and joyously Old '61 +plodded his way to the sea. He practiced nearly all his waking hours, +and when he was not at the little organ, practicing, he went about +humming the beloved words. Pride and love, rather than any melody of his +cracked old voice, made a tune of them. + +His progress astonished his teacher. Her praise was impetuous enough for +further and greater exertions. One day Billy said the next time should +be an exhibition, when he should play it all--from "Atlanta to the +sea"--with her as audience, not helping, but sitting in a chair +listening. + +She came to the Exhibition in a white dress, with sweet-peas at her +waist. Her smiles at the foot of the steps changed to something like a +sob when she discovered that Old '61 had been decorating the organ and +the little porch. He, himself, was brushed and radiant, his old face the +face of a little child. + +"The audience will sit on the steps," Billy said, a little tremulously. +"Right here. Make believe I'm rows and rows of people! Now will you +please favor us by 'Marching through Georgia'?". + +He went at once to the little gayly-bedecked instrument and began to +play. The dignity and pride of the shabby old figure redeemed its +shabbiness--the fervor of the pounded notes redeemed the tune. The +audience--in "rows and rows,"--listened gravely, and at the end burst +into genuine applause. The sound swelled and multiplied oddly, and then +they saw the three figures at the gate who had listened, too. Billy was +discovered! + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +They escorted Billy home. It was rather a silent walk until the end. +Loraine spoke first. + +"One less in the B-Hive," she said sadly. + +"Yes, I suppose I'm dropped now," responded Billy, not uncheerfully. +"Of course I've got to take the consequences of my--my crime. But I don't +care!" she added with vivacity. "I'd rather live alone in a ten-story +house than have missed that Exhibition!" + +"Yes," mused Laura Ann thoughtfully, "it was a beautiful one. I'm glad +_I_ didn't miss it. When I think of what it stood for--" + +She broke off suddenly and slipped her hand into Billy's arm. Another +short silence. Then Laura Ann finished: "All the work and patience it +stood for, day after day--girls, when I think of that I feel--" + +"I know--all of us know," T.O. hastily interposed. "That's about the way +we all feel, I guess. No use talking about it, though. Billy's broken +the Compact and we're under oath to drop her." + +"Not till we go back to work," Loraine put in emphatically, "and then +she can live next door and come in every night to tea! There's nothing +in the Compact against that, is there? Well, then, I invite you, Billy, +for the very first tea!" + +"I accept!" laughed Billy. She did not seem at all depressed. In her +ears rang the pounding refrain of Old '61 marching through Georgia. + +Nothing more was said on this subject. A little picnic had been planned +for the afternoon, and they went briskly about making preparations for +it, as soon as they got back to Mrs. Camp's little green house. While +they worked they discussed Amelia. + +"If she hadn't gone with her mother we'd have taken her to the picnic +with us," the Talented One said, over her egg-beating. "I wonder if +Amelia likes picnics?" + +"Don't! You make me feel creepy," Laura Ann laughed. "What _I_ +wonder is how she'd have looked if she'd ever been born. I lay awake one +night trying to imagine Amelia." + +"Blue eyes and golden hair," Loraine chimed in dreamily, "and a little +dimple in her chin." + +"You needn't any of you lie awake nights imagining. I can tell you," the +Talented One said. "She has blue eyes, but her hair is brown and the +dimples are in her cheeks. Her hair just waves a little away from the +parting--it is always parted. She sits very still, sewing patchwork--her +mother told me," added the Talented One quietly. "She said she wished +she knew how to paint so she could paint Amelia's picture. She told me +where she'd like to have it hung--here in the dining-room, between the +windows. Amelia'd always been very real, she said, but the picture would +make her realer." + +"Did she ever say what kind of dresses Amelia wears?" asked Laura Ann +without looking up from her stirring. + +"No, I never asked, but they must be white dresses, I think,--Amelia is +such an innocent little thing," laughed T.O. softly. It was odd how they +always laughed or talked softly when it was about little make-believe +Amelia. + +The picnic was in the woods, in a lovely little spot Loraine had +discovered in her wanderings. A brook babbled noisily through the spot. +They spread their lunch at the foot of a forest giant and ate it +luxuriously to the tune the brook sang. It was hard to believe they had +ever been toilers in a great city. + +"There never were any public schools," murmured Loraine, lying back and +gazing into the thick mesh of leaves overhead. "Nobody ever said +'Teacher! Teacher!' to me." + +"There never were any negatives to be 'touched up'--nobody ever had +their pictures taken," Laura Ann murmured, dreamy, too. "I've always +been here beside this brook, lying on my back--what a beautiful world +it's always been!" + +The Talented One sat rigidly straight. "There have always been +handkerchiefs," she sighed, "and there always will be. I shall have to +go back there and sell them. When I look at all these leaves, it reminds +me--there are leaves on handkerchiefs, straggling round the +borders--ugh!" + +It was foolish talk, perhaps, but it was the place and the time for +foolish talk. After a little more of it they drifted apart, wandering +this way and that in a delightful, aimless way. So little of their four +lives had been aimless or especially delightful that they reveled in the +sweet opportunity. Loraine wandered farthest. She came after awhile to a +clearing where a small pond glimmered redly with the parting rays of the +sun. A great boy lounged beside the pond dangling a pole. Loraine +recognized him as Jane Cotton's Sam. + +"Oh!" she said, "now I've made a noise and scared away your fish!" + +"Ain't any fish," muttered the boy. He did not turn around. The pole +slanted further and further, till it lay on the bank beside the boy. + +"Oh, maybe there are, if you wait long enough--and nobody comes crashing +through the bushes! I don't suppose--I mean if you are not going to use +it any more yourself--" Loraine looked toward the idle pole. "I never +fished in my life," she explained. The boy understood with remarkable +quickness. + +"You mean you'd like to try it?" he asked, and this time turned round. +It was not at all a bad face on close inspection, Loraine decided. The +veil of sullenness had lifted a little. + +[Illustration: "I NEVER FISHED IN MY LIFE," SHE EXPLAINED.] + +"Oh, but I just would! Only if I should have an accident and catch +anything, whatever would I do! They--they are always cold and clammy, +aren't they?" + +Jane Cotton's Sam laughed outright, and Loraine decided that it was a +very good face. + +"I'll 'tend to all you catch," the boy said. He was busily baiting the +hook; now he extended the pole to her. + +"Wiggle it--up and down a little, like this," he directed, "and don't +make any more noise than you can help. If you feel a bite, let me know." + +"But I don't see how I can feel a bite unless they bite me--" + +Again the boy laughed wholesomely. They were getting acquainted. The +fishing began, and for what seemed to her a long time Loraine sat +absolutely still, dangling the pole. Nothing happened for a discouraging +while. Then Loraine whispered: "I feel a bite, but it's on my wrist! If +it's a mosquito I wish you would 'shoo' it off." + +Another wait. Then a real bite in the right place. In another moment +Loraine landed a wriggling little fish in the grass. She did not squeal +nor shudder, but sat regarding it with gentle pride. + +"Poor little thing! I suppose I ought to put you back, but you're my +first and only fish, and I've _got_ to carry you home for the girls +to see. You'll have to forgive me this time!" She turned to the boy. +"I suppose he ought to be dressed, or undressed, or something, before +he's fried, oughtn't he? I thought I'd like to fry him for breakfast, +to surprise the girls--" + +"I'll dress him for you," Jane Cotton's Sam said eagerly, "and bring +him over in the morning in plenty o' time." + +"Thank you," Loraine said heartily. "Now you'll have to let me do +something for you. 'Turn about is fair play.' Couldn't I--" She +hesitated, looking out over the still reddened water rather than at the +boy's face. "Couldn't I help you in some way with your studies? That's +my business, you know. It would really be doing me a kindness, for I may +get all out of practice unless I teach somebody something!" Had Loraine, +too, forgotten the Compact on the screen door? + +The boy fidgeted, then burst out angrily: "I s'pose they've all been +telling you I failed up in my exams? They have, haven't they? You +_knew_ it, didn't you?" + +"Yes," Loraine answered quietly. "But I've heard a good many worse +things in my life. I've heard of boys that smoked and drank and--and +_stole_. What does missing a few examinations amount to beside +things like those?" But the boy did not seem to have been listening to +anything except his own angry thoughts. All his sun-browned young face +was flooded with red; he had run his fingers through his hair till it +stood up fiercely. + +"They needn't trouble themselves 'bout me, nor you needn't, nor anybody +needn't!" he declaimed loudly. "Anybody'd think they were saints +themselves!" + +"And _I_ was a saint and everybody was saints!" laughed Loraine +softly. But Jane Cotton's Sam did not laugh. He went striding away into +the woods, his head flung up high. Loraine and the little dead fish were +left behind. Oddly the girl was not thinking of the boy's rudeness in +return for her kind offer of help, but of the flash of spirit in his +eyes. It augured well for him, she was thinking, for spirit was spirit, +although "gone wrong." In the right place, it should spur him on to a +second attempt to get into college. What if she were to persist in her +offer--were to work with him, urge him to work with her? + +But he had chosen to spurn her advances. She shook her head sadly. On +his own head be it. She turned her attention to the little dead fish. + +"You poor dear, you look so dead and forlorn--what am I going to do with +you? Someway you've got to go home with me and be fried." She took him +up gingerly, but dropped him again--he was so slippery and damp! Wrap +him in her handkerchief? But she had no pocket and she could never, +never carry him in her sleeve which she had adopted as a pocket. So then +she must leave him, must she? Poor little useless sacrifice! + +Back at the picnic spot the girls were waiting for her. They went home +in the late, sweet twilight. + +A letter was tucked under the screen door where some friendly neighbor +had left it. "Miss Thomasia O. Brown," Billy read aloud, and waved the +letter in triumph, for the secret was out. The 'T' in T.O. stood for +Thomasia! + +"Well?" bristled the Talented One, "it had to stand for something, +didn't it? It's awful, I know, but _I'm_ not to blame--I didn't +name myself, did I? I wish people could," she added with a sigh. + +"Is it for a _Thomas?_" questioned Laura Ann curiously. + +Thomasia nodded: "There was always a Thomas in the family until they got +to me. They did the best they could to make me one." She was opening the +letter with careful precision. "Why, of course, it's from Mrs. Camp!" +she cried delightedly. + +"My dear, I hope you are well and your friends have come, and Jane +Cotton's Sam has not forgotten to paint the pump. I arrived here safely +after a very long journey--my dear, I never dreamed the world was so +big! This part of it is well enough, but give me Placid Pond! Now I am +going to tell you something, and you may laugh all you're a mind to--I +sha'n't hear! What I'm going to tell is, _Amelia came_, too. After +I'd got good and settled down on the cars I looked up and knew she was +sitting right opposite, on the seat I'd turned over. She seemed +_there_--and you may laugh, my dear. I laughed, I was so pleased to +have Amelia along. John doesn't know she came--Amelia never makes a mite +of trouble! But everywhere I go she goes, my dear. I shouldn't tell you +if I didn't feel you'd understand. If he hasn't painted it yet, the blue +paint is on a shelf in the woodhouse, and you can paint it. I'm afraid +Jane Cotton's Sam won't ever amount to much. Poor Jane!" + +Thomasia read the letter aloud, and at this point Loraine interposed +warmly: "Jane Cotton's Sam is abused! It's a shame everybody groans over +him--_I_ like him. If there isn't a lot of good in him, then I don't +know how to read human nature, that's all." + +The next morning very early someone knocked at the kitchen door. It was +Laura Ann's turn to make the fire, and she answered the knock. Jane +Cotton's Sam stood on the steps outside. He had a mysterious little +package in his hand. He looked up eagerly, but it was evident from the +disappointed look on his face that Laura Ann was the wrong girl. And he +did not know the right one's name! + +"Good-morning!" nodded Laura Ann, sublimely unconscious of the +soot-patch over her nose. + +"Good-morning. I'd like to see--I've brought something for the one that +teaches school." + +"Loraine? But she isn't up yet--" + +"Yes, I am up, too," called a voice overhead, "but I won't be long! I'll +be _down_." + +It was a little fish, dressed and ready to fry, that was in the tiny +bundle. The boy extended it blushingly. Then his eyes lifted to +Loraine's in frank petition for pardon. + +"I was mighty rude," he said. "I went back to the pond to say so, but +you were gone. I beg your pardon." + +She liked the tone of his voice and his good red blushes. "That's all +right," she nodded reassuringly. But he did not go away. There was +something else. + +"If--you know what you said? If you'd offer _again_--" + +Loraine glanced over her shoulder. Laura Ann was rattling stove-lids at +the other end of the kitchen. "I offer _now_," Loraine said in a +low voice. + +"Then I accept." The boy's voice was eager. "I'll study like everything! +I thought about it in the night--I thought I'd like to surprise my +mother. If I could get into college next year--" His eyes shone. "Oh I +say, I'd do 'most anything for that!" + +The little plan was hurriedly made, in low tones, there on Emmeline +Camp's little doorsteps. The boy was to take his books to the pond where +Loraine had caught her fish. He was to study there alone for a time +every day, and in the afternoon she was to stroll that way and go over +the work with him and set him right in all the wrong places. + +"It was in Latin and mathematics I failed up," Jane Cotton's Sam +explained. + +"It's Latin and mathematics we'll tackle!" softly laughed Loraine. +"You wait--you see--you _grind!_" + +He strode away, whistling, and the tune was full of courage and +determination. Loraine smiled as she listened. She stood a moment, then +opened the screen door and went in. The "Compact" swung and tilted with +the jolt of her energetic movements. She adjusted it with a queer little +smile. + +For summer days on summer days the covert, earnest lessons went on +beside the bit of sunny water. Teacher and pupil pored intently over the +problems and difficult passages, and steadily the pupil's courage grew. +The old sullen look had vanished--Jane Cotton's Sam put on manliness and +a splendid swing to his shoulders. In her heart Loraine exulted. What if +she were disobeying the Compact--death to the Wicked Compact! + +Laura Ann suspected, but for reasons of her own kept her own counsel. +She had begun to suspect, when Jane Cotton's Sam brought the little +fish. At that time the "reasons of her own" had begun to influence her +and she had omitted to mention to Billy and T.O. that the boy had stood +on the doorsteps in earnest conversation with Loraine. Mentioning it to +Billy might not, indeed, have mattered, since Billy was already an +"outsider." But Loraine might not want T.O. to know, anyway. + +It was significant that Laura Ann, in going in and out, now chose to +ignore the gayly-illuminated placard that swung on the door--that she +herself had adorned and hung there. But she did not go in and out as +much now; for whole mornings she slipped away to a little attic room +upstairs and busied herself alone. + +It was getting grievously near the time to go back to the great city +again. Emmeline Camp was coming back then. + +All but T.O. mourned audibly the rapidly lessening days, but T.O. made +no useless laments. One day she surprised them. + +"Girls, I _want_ to go back!" she announced. "I shall be ready when +it's time--now anybody can say what anybody pleases. Scoff at me--do. +I expect it! But I'm getting homesick to see a street-car and a--a +policeman! It's lovely and peaceful here, but I've had my fill of it +now--I want to go home and bump into crowds and hear big, stirry noises. +It's different with you girls--you weren't born in the city; you didn't +play with street-cars and policemen and get sung to sleep by the noises! +I was tired--tired--and now I'm rested. I've had a perfectly beautiful +time, but I shall be ready to go back. Honestly, girls, it would break +my heart not to!" + +It was so much like T.O., Billy said, to keep all her feelings to +herself and then suddenly spring them on people like that, and take +people's breath away. Billy did not keep things to herself. + + * * * * * + +Jane Cotton came up the kitchen path one day when all but Loraine were +sitting on the doorsteps--Loraine had strolled nonchalantly down the +street as her afternoon habit was. + +"Well, I've found out!" announced Jane Cotton. She was beaming; her +sallow face was oddly cleared and lighted--her lips trembled with +eagerness to deliver her news. "I've _found out_! Where's the rest +o' you?" She counted them over. "It's the rest o' you I want--well, you +tell her I've found out. Tell her I hardly slept a wink last night, +I was so happy! Tell her I _bless_ her, and I know the Lord will. +They didn't want me to know yet but I couldn't help finding out. And +they won't mind when they know how happy it's made me--oh, I ain't +afraid but he'll pass this time! I know he will--I know it! You tell her +she's saved my boy." And without further delay the slender figure turned +and walked jubilantly down the path. It was as if she marched to the +melody of the joy in her heart. + +They looked at each other silently, then at the Wicked Compact behind +them. There did not seem any explanation needed. + +"Another one dropped," murmured T.O. sighingly. But Laura Ann said +nothing. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Laura Ann stole quietly away and went upstairs to the little attic room. +Close by the window was a rough little easel arrangement with a picture +on it. Laura Ann stood regarding it thoughtfully. "I wonder"--she smiled +at the whimsy of the thought--"I wonder if it looks like Amelia," she +murmured. + +It was not a wonderful picture. No committee would have hung it on a +"line." There were rather glaring errors in it of draughtsmanship and +coloring. But the face of the girl in it was appealingly sweet--brown +hair, blue eyes, little round chin. Laura Ann had not dared to put in +the dimples. + +"Dimples need a master," she said, "besides, they only show when you +smile, and I don't believe Amelia smiles very often!" + +She sat down and took up a brush. The picture was nearly done, but she +found touches to be added here and there. There might be a stray +lock--there, like that. And a little bit more shade under the chin, and +the wistful droop of the mouth relieved, oh, a very little bit! Amelia +looked so serious. + +"Poor little thing! Well, it's a serious matter to be a dream-child, +with not an ounce of good red blood in your veins." + +Laura Ann meant to slip back after they had started for the station, on +the last day, and hang the picture in the little sunny dining-room. She +did not want the girls to know there was a picture. But still--a new +thought had begun to obtrude itself unwelcomely. Was painting Amelia's +portrait a breach, too, of the Compact? She had undertaken it as a +little "offering" to Mrs. Camp, to show her own individual gratitude for +her own share of the dear little green cottage all these beautiful +weeks--T.O. had said Mrs. Camp had longed for a picture. But the fact +that it had taken many patient hours of work "unto others," was not to +be overlooked. If it had broken the rules of the Wicked Compact, and she +went back to the B-Hive without letting the girls know of it--oh, hum! +of course that would be another "wicked compact"! She would have to let +them know--and she didn't want to let them know--oh, dear! + +Suddenly Laura Ann dropped her paints and gave herself up to laughter. +She had remembered that only T.O.--Thomasia O.--would be left now in the +B-Hive! For all the rest had broken the Compact. Thomasia O., living all +alone in the dear, shabby little rooms, presented a funny picture, for +of them all she was least fitted to live alone. Even Billy could do +better. + +"The rest of us will live together," laughed Laura Ann. "There's nothing +to prevent that, if we live outside the old B-Hive. We'll start a new +B-Hive! Poor Thomasia O.!" + +They would miss T.O. very much indeed--well, they could invite her in to +tea and keep her all night! In spite of the wicked old Compact, they +would keep together. "And we'll never," vowed Laura Ann for them all, +"sign any more nefarious bonds!" + +She hung the picture of Amelia on the wall when they were all away, and +then went away herself. She stayed away until nearly dark. Thomasia O. +went to meet her. + +"I knew it all the time," she said quietly, without preface of any kind. +"It's a perfect likeness." + +"You knew it?" said Laura Ann. + +"Yes, I was prowling 'round one day, to see what attics were like, and +I found Amelia. Only her hair and her eyes, then, but I knew her. I'm +so glad poor Mrs. Camp will have that picture to help her bear her +troubles!" + +[Illustration: THE PICTURE WAS NEARLY DONE.] + +"Poor"--"troubles." This was all enigma to Laura Ann. But she wisely +waited to be enlightened. She had divined the moment she saw T.O. that +the girl was unusually disturbed. This was true. + +"I've had two letters--the first one came three weeks ago from her +brother. I didn't want to spoil your good time, telling sad things, +so I kept it to myself--Laura Ann, that woman _mothered_ me!" + +Laura Ann stood still. "Do you mean Mrs. Camp? Is she--dead?" But the +other did not seem to hear. She ran on in a low, troubled voice. + +"She bathed my ankle, and said 'My dear,' and waited on me, when she'd +never set eyes on me in her life before. How did she know but that I was +an--an _impostor_? And she let us have her dear little house to live +in--" + +"Yes, yes--oh, yes, she let _me_ live in it!" Laura Ann interposed. +"You ought to have told us she was dead." + +"She isn't dead. She's fallen downstairs and broken her hip. The doctor +says it's so bad she won't ever walk again without crutches, her brother +wrote. He said he wanted her to stay and live with him, but she wouldn't +listen to it. She wanted to come home as soon as she possibly could. So +she's coming--he's coming with her, to 'start' her." + +T.O. fingered a letter in her hand in a nervous, undecided way, as if +she were half inclined to read it to the other girl. It was not Emmeline +Camp's brother's letter. It had come ten days ago, and she herself knew +it by heart. How many, many times she had read it! She had cried over +the wistful cry in it, and over Amelia's death--for the letter said that +Amelia was dead. + +"My dear," it said, "I've lost Amelia--you'd think she would have stood +by her mother in her trouble, wouldn't you? But she hasn't been near me +since. It seems queer--perhaps after people break their hips they can't +'feel' anything else but their hips! Perhaps it breaks their +imaginations. Anyway, Amelia's dead, my dear. Sometimes I think mebbe +I'd ought to be, too--a lone little woman like me, without a chick or a +child. Old women with children can afford to tumble downstairs, but not +my kind of old women. John is real good. He wants me to stay here, but I +can't--I can't, I can't, my dear! I've got to be where I can limp out to +the old pump and the gate and the orchard, on my crutches--I've got to +see the old hills I was born in, and Old '61 marching past the house, +and the old neighbors--I've got to die at _home_, my dear. So John +can't keep me. I wish I was going to find you there. I keep thinking how +beautiful it would be. You'd be out to the gate waiting, the way +people's daughters wait for them. And mebbe you'd have the kettle all +hot and we'd have a cup of tea together just as if I was the mother and +you was--Amelia! All the way home I should be thinking about your being +there. It's queer, isn't it, you went limping in that gate first, and +now it's me? A good many things are queer, and some are kind of +desolate. I've decided, my dear, that daughters have to be the kind that +are born, to stay by a body in trouble. They have to be made of flesh +and blood, my dear--and Amelia wasn't! + +"I've written this a little to a time, laying on my back. Mebbe you +won't ever read it. Mebbe I won't ever see you again, but you will +remember, my dear, that I've loved you ever since I took off your +stocking and saw your poor, sprained ankle. If the Lord would perform +a miracle for me, I'd ask for it to be the bringing of Amelia to life +and finding her you." + +T.O. did not show the letter to Laura Ann. She put it in her pocket +again, and they walked home slowly, talking of Mrs. Camp's sad accident. +At the supper table it was voted that they all write a joint letter of +sympathy to her, and express, at the same time, their united and +separate thanks for her kindness to them in lending them her home. + +Loraine wrote the letter, Laura Ann copied it, they all signed it. Into +cold pen-and-ink words they tried to diffuse warmth and gratitude and +sympathy, but the result was not very satisfying, as such results rarely +are. Still, it was all they could do. Billy and Laura Ann went off to +mail it. + +"Do you begin to feel lonesome?" laughed Loraine softly, as she and T.O. +sat on the steps in the dark. "Thinking of being left all alone in the +Hive, I mean? The rest of us begin to feel lonesome, thinking of being +left out! We had a grist of good times all together, didn't we? Remember +the little 'treats' when you always brought home olives, and Billy sage +cheese? Laura Ann used to change about--sometimes eclairs, sometimes +sauerkraut! Always sardines for me. Oh, _do_ you remember the treat +with a capital 'T,' when we had ice cream and angel cake? And Billy +wanted to divide the hole so as not to waste anything--there, I don't +believe you've heard a word I said!" + +She had not, for she was not there. Loraine put out her hand in the +darkness, but could not find her. She had slipped away unceremoniously. + +She was down in the road, walking fast and hard. The battle was on +again. + +"I thought I had it all decided--I _did_ have! Why do I have to +decide it over again?" she was saying stormily to herself. "I said I'd +do it, and I'm going to do it--what am I down here fighting in the dark +for?" But still she fought on. + +It was so still about her, and with all her girl's heart she longed for +noise again--car-bells and rattling wheels and din of men's voices. +There were such wide spaces all about, and she longed for narrow +spaces--for rows on rows of houses and people coming and going. It was +the city-blood in her asserting itself. She had had her breath of space +and freedom and green, growing things, and exulted in it while it +lasted. Now she pined for her native streets. But all the sympathy and +gratitude in her went out to the little old woman who was coming home to +a lonely home--whose one dream-child was dead. + +No one had ever really needed her before--to be needed appealed to her +strongly. And in the short time between her own coming to Placid Pond +and the coming of the other girls, a bond of real affection had been +established between Mrs. Camp and herself. + +But hadn't she been over all this before? Long ago she had decided what +to do. Now, suddenly, she wheeled in the dark road and went hurrying in +the other direction. She would go back to Loraine on the doorstep, and +laugh and talk. She had decided "for good." + +The stars came trooping out, and she lifted her face to them with a new +sense of peace. They were such friendly, twinkling little stars. + +T.O. was humming a lilty little tune when she came up the path in the +starlight and joined Loraine again on the doorstep. + +The other two girls were coming slowly back from the little country post +office, both to hurry and have the pleasant walk over. Billy had been +saying nice things about the portrait of Amelia they had found hanging +on the wall. + +"It's a dear!" she said heartily. "I wish I could make a picture like +that." + +"You've made one a thousand times better!" cried Laura Ann. "I saw it +this afternoon." + +"_Me_--make a picture?" Billy's voice was incredulous. "I couldn't +draw my breath straight!" + +"It was a beautiful one. I stood still and looked at it. Your background +was fine, dear--woods banked against a late afternoon sky, with bits of +red light straggling through the branches, a little box of a house in +the foreground, with patches of new shingles on the 'cover'; a crooked +little front path, a funny little well, a little rosebush all a flame of +color--" + +"Mercy!" Billy's little triangle of a face put on alarm. Was Laura Ann +losing her mind? + +"But that--all that--was only the setting. The heart of the picture, +dear, was an old man marching up and down the path--did I say it was a +moving picture? He was whistling a tune in a wheezy way, and keeping +step to it grandly. Once he seemed to lose a few notes; then he went +into a little box of a house, and I heard an organ--" + +"Oh!" breathed Billy, assured of the other's sanity, "you mean Old '61 +practicing! That's the way he does--he's learning to march through +Georgia without the organ, but he misses a step or two sometimes. +_That_ was the picture, was it?" + +"It was a beautiful one," Laura Ann said softly. "You needn't tell me +you can't paint, Billy! That's the kind of pictures we shall find +hanging in the Great Picture Gallery." + +They walked on for a little in silence, with only the piping chorus of +the little night creatures in their ears. The sweet, cool damp was in +their faces. + +"Here we are at Jane Cotton's Sam's," Billy whispered by and by, to +break the spell. She could not have told why she whispered. + +"So we are. Billy, look, he's studying like a trooper! That boy is going +to walk straight into college in September! Let's go straight home and +hug Loraine--come on! Take hold of my hand, and we'll run." + +"Wait--wait! Look, there's another of your pictures, Laura Ann!" Billy's +lips were close to the other's ear; Billy was pointing. Into the little +lighted room where Jane Cotton's Sam sat poring over a book, had come +another figure. As they looked, it stopped beside the boy and bent over +him. + +"That's just the setting--all that," Laura Ann murmured. "The heart of +the picture is her face, Billy!" For Jane Cotton's face was radiant. + + * * * * * + +The day at last came for their return to the city and to the work they +were so much better able to do. The little, green-painted house was in +spotless order to leave behind. As Mrs. Camp was to come the following +day, they had filled the little pantry with food--not remarkably light +cake or bread, not especially flaky piecrust, but everything flavored +with sympathy and gratitude and good will. + +"Go on, all of you; I'll catch up," Billy said, as they stood on the +steps with the door locked behind them. "When you get out of sight I'm +going to kiss the house good-by!" + +"T.O. had better stay behind with you, to kiss the pump!" Loraine said. +"Or we'll all stay--I guess we can all find something to kiss." + +"Did anybody think to take down the Wicked Compact?" demanded Laura Ann +suddenly. "It would be awful to leave that behind." + +They were at the gate. T.O. stopped suddenly, pointing. What they saw +was a tiny, tiny mound, rounded symmetrically. "There it lies--I buried +it," T.O. said briefly, but added, "And let no one keep its grave +green!" They looked at her a little curiously. Perhaps they were +thinking that it might have been appropriate for her to take it home +with her and hang it on the wall to keep her company in the lonely +little B-Hive. But they only laughed and tramped on cheerfully to the +station. They were a little late, and had to run the last of the way. +The train was already in, and they scrambled aboard. + +"Well, here we are leaving Eldorado!" sighed breathlessly Loraine. + +"And all of us heart-broken but T.O.--girls, where's T.O.?" + +She was not there. The train was getting under way. In a flurry they +huddled to the windows. + +"Good-by! Good-by!" shouted a gay voice from the platform. A little +white envelope flew in at one of the open windows. T.O., quite calm +and unexcited, stood out there waving to them. + +"What in the world!" ejaculated Laura Ann, then stopped. For she alone +could see a little ray of light. "Read the letter," she said more +quietly. "The letter will tell us." + +They all read it together, their heads bunched closely. + +"Dear girls, I'm going to stay. I never was needed before, but I guess +I am now. And maybe you'll think it's funny, but I'm _wanted_! An +imaginary daughter can't wait on a poor little cripple--it takes the +flesh-and-blood kind. I found out she wanted me, and so I'm going to +stay. It would have been lonesome, anyway, all alone in the Hive! +I bequeath all my rights to you--" + +"As if she had any now, any more than the rest of us!" muttered Billy +fiercely, her eyes full of tears. + +"Sometimes when you're going and coming, some o' you listen to the +car-wires sing, for me, and the wheels rattle," the letter went on. +"Bump into somebody sometime for me! Good-by. You're all of you dears. + +"Amelia." + +At the signature they choked a little, and looked away at the flying +landscape without seeing it at all. Laura Ann saw another picture--a +girl waiting at a little gate. Woods and dusty road and humble little +homes for background, and an old stage rattling into view in the +foreground. She saw it stop--in the picture--and a helpless little old +figure be taken out. She saw the girl at the gate spring forward and +hold out her hands. But the heart of the picture was the face of the +little old woman on crutches. It was another picture for the Grand +Gallery. + +[Illustration] + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Four Girls and a Compact, by Annie Hamilton Donnell + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOUR GIRLS AND A COMPACT *** + +This file should be named gcomp10.txt or gcomp10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, gcomp11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, gcomp10a.txt + +Produced by Joel Erickson, David Garcia and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext03 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext03 + +Or /etext02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/gcomp10.zip b/old/gcomp10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..af01a29 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gcomp10.zip diff --git a/old/gcomp10h.zip b/old/gcomp10h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee19686 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/gcomp10h.zip |
