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Ethel Morton at Chautauqua Part 19

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"I think it would be splendid, Ethel Blue," she said; "I know Mother thinks it's just what I need for my complaint. Mother, dear, I'm not selfish; I'm just _self-respecting_, and self-respecting people want to co-operate just as much as other people. I'd love to have this club to try to prove to you that I'm not a 'greedy Jo.'"

"I'm far from-thinking you a 'greedy Jo,' Helen. You're getting morbid about it, I'm afraid, and I believe this club idea of Ethel Blue's will be an excellent thing for you; and for Roger, too," she went on.

"What's the matter with me?" inquired Roger a trifle gruffly.

"You're a very dear boy," said his mother, running her fingers through his hair in a way that he was just beginning to like after years of considering it an almost unendurable habit, "but sometimes I think you've forgotten your Scout law, 'Do a kindness to some one every day.'

It's not that you mean to be unkind; you're just careless."

"H'm," grunted Roger. "There seems to be a good reason for every one of us joining this club. What's the matter with Ethel Brown?"

"I know," answered Ethel Brown before her mother had time to reply; "Mother's going to tell you that I like to do things for people not to give them pleasure, but because it gives me pleasure and so I don't do things the way they like them but the way I like them. And that's really selfish and not unselfish."

"Upon my word," exclaimed Grandfather Emerson, "these children seem to be able to a.n.a.lyze themselves mighty closely! They agree on one thing, though--this club of Ethel Blue's is the cure that they all need for their different ailments."

"Let's have it," cried Roger. "Ethel Blue shall be president and we'll let d.i.c.ky be an honorary member and the grown-ups shall be the Advisory Board."

"Oh, I couldn't be president," said Ethel Blue shrinkingly.

"It's your idea. You ought to be," insisted Helen.

"No, you be president. And let's ask Margaret Hanc.o.c.k to belong, and James. You know we'll probably see a good deal of them next winter now that we know them. They're only forty minutes on the trolley from us."

"I wish we'd always known them; they're certainly great kids,"

p.r.o.nounced Roger.

"If we have a club it will be an inducement to them to come over often."

"What'll we call the club?" Ethel Brown always liked to have details attended to promptly.

"Do for Others"; "A Thing a Day"; "Every Little Helps," were t.i.tles suggested by one voice and another.

"Why not 'The United Servers' if you are going to make it a club of service," asked Mrs. Emerson.

"Why not 'The United Service'?" demanded Roger. "With Father in the Navy and Ethel Blue's father in the Army we have the two arms of the Service united in the family, and if we call it 'The United Service Club' it will be a nice little pun for ourselves and express the idea of the club all right for outsiders."

Everybody seemed to like the suggestion.

"Now, then," declared Roger, standing below the steps and facing the family above him; "it has been moved that Helen be president. Do I hear a second?"

"You do," cried Ethel Blue.

"All right. Everybody in favor--"

"Aye."

"Contrary minded--"

Silence.

"It is a vote, and Miss Helen Morton is unanimously elected president of the United Service Club. What's the next thing to do?"

"Make d.i.c.ky an honorary member," suggested Ethel Blue.

"Go to bed," over-ruled Mrs. Morton. "There are the chimes."

So the president and members and Advisory Board of the United Service Club disappeared into the house and d.i.c.ky was not informed until the next day of the honor that had befallen him.

CHAPTER XI

THE UNITED SERVICE CLUB IS ORGANIZED

THE Hanc.o.c.ks were notified on Monday morning of their election to members.h.i.+p in the new club. They were delighted to join, especially as it would mean after they got home a regular meeting with the pleasant friends they had had to come many miles from home to know.

"What are we going to do first?" they asked Roger who took the invitation to them.

"Helen has called a meeting for this afternoon at five o'clock. We'll decide on something then."

"Where's it going to be?"

"Up in the ravine just before you get to Higgins Hall. Dorothy's going to make some sandwiches."

"Oh, Dorothy's going to belong."

"Sure thing. Our household can't do without her since Grandfather was sick. I asked Mother if Mary couldn't make us some sandwiches, but she said Mary was awfully busy to-day, and Dorothy said if the club was to help people she'd help Mary by making the sandwiches."

"Good old Dorothy! She's begun to be a United Server before the club has really got to working."

"I don't see why I can't come in on the sandwich business," said James.

"I'm a dandy ham slicer."

"Come over, then. Dorothy's making them now on the back porch."

So it happened that there was almost a meeting of the club before the time actually set for it, but after all there was not a quorum, according to James, while at five o'clock every active member was present, though the members of the Advisory Board were detained by other engagements.

The ravine extended back from the lake toward the fence. Through it ran a brook which the dry weather had made almost non-existent, but its course was marked by an abundant growth of wild flowers, including the delicate blue of the forget-me-not.

"Let's have the forget-me-not for our flower," suggested Margaret as soon as they were settled on the bank under the tall trees. "We mustn't pick any of these, of course, but they won't be hard to find at home, and they'll be easy to embroider if we ever need to make badges or anything of that sort."

"Perhaps in the course of a few years we'll be advanced enough to have pins," said Helen, "and forget-me-not pins will be lovely. Even the boys can wear them for scarf pins--little ones with just one flower."

Roger and James approved this suggestion and so the matter of an emblem was decided not only without trouble but before the meeting had been called to order.

"We certainly are a harmonious lot," observed James when some one mentioned this fact.

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