Ethel Morton at Chautauqua - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Picking up the honorary member and setting him on his shoulder Roger led the procession back to the lake front, and so ended the first meeting of the United Service Club which was to fill so large a part in the lives of all its members for several years to come.
CHAPTER XII
OLD FIRST NIGHT
FOR several days after the fire d.i.c.ky had been far from well and Mrs.
Morton had taken him out of the kindergarten. As he recovered his balance, however, it became evident that he would be very lonely in the mornings when all the rest of the family were away at their different occupations if he, too, did not have some regular task. He was so much stronger and taller than the other children at the kindergarten that Roger, who was proud of his manliness, urged his mother to let him join the Boys' Club.
"Will they take boys as young as he is?"
"It depends entirely on how young they behave, and d.i.c.ky's no baby."
"Then if you think they'll accept him suppose you take him to the Club and enroll him."
So d.i.c.ky marched bravely in among the hundreds of boys who help to make lively the southern part of the a.s.sembly Grounds, and was duly registered as a member of the Boys' Club. If his rompers seemed to give him a too youthful air at one end the blue sweater adorned with the Boys' Club monogram which he insisted on donning at once, evened up his status. For a day or two Roger had happened in at the Club to see whether the little chap was holding his own and he had been so satisfied with what he saw that he no longer felt it necessary to exercise a daily watchfulness. d.i.c.ky came and went all over the grounds now, and often enlightened his elders about some locality of which they were not certain.
When the sun rises on the day that is to end with the Old First Night celebration there is always a suppressed excitement in Chautauqua. The young men of the _Daily_ are listening to the Managing Editor's a.s.signment of their extra duties in reporting the evening festivities; the boys who are to collect the money from the audience in the Amphitheatre and the men to whom they are to deliver it are receiving from the Usher-in-Chief their instructions as to their respective positions and duties; messengers rush their bicycles over the ground delivering notes of invitation to the people who are to sit on the platform.
In the homes the heads of the families are deciding how much they can afford to give to the Old First Night Fund and the other members down to the small children are examining their pocket books and shaking the pennies out of their banks so that every one may have a share, no matter how small, in the gift of Chautauquans to Chautauqua.
The Morton-Emerson household had had its share of the morning excitement and Mrs. Morton and her father were climbing up the hill, she to go to the Women's Club and he to occupy his usual stool at the Arts and Crafts Studios. At almost every step they nodded pleasantly to acquaintances, for they had many friends, some made before the fire, and others drawn to them by the spirit of helpfulness that makes Chautauquans run to the rescue of distress wherever they find it.
As they reached the hilltop and crossed the street to enter the Post Office for the morning mail their ears were saluted by the customary morning sounds. The ice cream booth and the bakery in the pergola were being replenished from heavy kegs and boxes which were in process of being unloaded from carts on to the ground before their destinations.
Crowds of people on their way to cla.s.ses and clubs were opening letters and calling out home news to other members of their families or slitting the wrappers from newspapers and shaking out the front page to come at the war news quickly.
Shrill cries of "_Chautauquan Daily_" rose on every side as boy venders of the local paper pressed among the people, for they did their best business in the early hours. People who would not take the time to stop and examine the program for the day posted in the tree boxes would read it in the paper as they hurried on to ensure punctuality at their cla.s.srooms.
"It really seems as if there was an extra hum in the air," laughed Mrs.
Morton.
"I think there is," returned her father drily. His eyes were fastened on a figure approaching them.
"_Chautauquan Daily_" came from a small but earnest throat.
"_Chautauquan Daily_; program for to-day and to-morrow."
"Upon my word!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mrs. Morton.
"Lecture by Mithter Griggth; addreth by Doctor Hurlbut," piped the piercing voice.
"Upon my word," gasped Mrs. Morton once more; "it's d.i.c.ky!"
It was. It was a radiant d.i.c.ky. His romper trousers were spread wide on each side and he strutted consumedly. His breast heaved proudly beneath the Boys' Club monogram on his sweater. The elastic under his chin did not hold his hat straight upon his bobbed hair and the brim was canted over one ear and gave him a rakish expression. He was the picture of a perfectly happy boy and he was doing a bigger business than any other newsboy in front of the Post Office. People crowded around him and every time he shouted "Lecture by Mithter Griggth; addreth by Doctor Hurlbut,"
they went into peals of laughter.
"What shall I do, Father?" asked Mrs. Morton breathlessly.
"You wouldn't have the heart to stop him, would you?" Mr. Emerson asked in return.
d.i.c.ky's mother gazed raptly at him for a whole minute.
"No," she said at last, "I haven't the heart to stop him."
"It's in the air, as I said the other evening when Helen was making her plea," said Mr. Emerson.
"Do you suppose it's money d.i.c.ky wants?"
"Money and excitement. d.i.c.ky will do a kindness to a friend and expect no pay for it just as you did when you were young, but I've no doubt that d.i.c.ky also likes the feeling of some extra coppers in his pockets.
I suppose there are pockets in those extraordinary garments he wears?"
"Yes," returned Mrs. Morton mechanically. "What is behind it all?" she asked again; "are we Americans getting so thoroughly commercialized that even the babies want to go out in the street and earn money?"
"I believe it's a love of adventure as much as a love of money. At any rate we've seen it developed in three members of your own family and surely our family traditions and the traditions of the Army and Navy are all against commercialism. I believe it is one of the modern phenomena that we must bow before. Opposing it will bring unhappiness and trouble.
The thing to do is to encourage such a spirit as your children are showing in this new club of theirs. Let them be commercial if they will but make them understand that their business interests must not make them less human, less friendly, less willing to serve any one who needs their service."
"It is very perplexing," sighed Mrs. Morton, but she walked away without speaking to d.i.c.ky, leaving him the centre of a throng lost in admiration of his cry, "Lecture by Mithter Griggth; addreth by Doctor Hurlbut."
d.i.c.ky's escapade was not the only one entered into by the Mortons on this memorable day. Right after dinner the whole club except d.i.c.ky who, it was decided, was not up to the long walk, went outside the grounds to pick wild flowers for the decoration of the platform of the Amphitheatre. The Director had given his consent and had expressed his pleasure, so the Hanc.o.c.ks and the Mortons and Dorothy set out in high spirits.
It was late in the afternoon when they returned laden with their spoils.
Early goldenrod and asters filled their arms, feathery green boughs waved over their heads, and long vines of clematis trailed behind them.
The Ethels were not such good walkers as the others. Even Dorothy kept up with the big boys better than the two younger Mortons, so they found themselves quite alone some distance before they reached the trolley gate.
"Um," sighed Ethel Brown; "I'm tired. I'd like to stop right here."
"Peg along," urged Ethel Blue.
"If only it wasn't against the rule we might crawl under the fence just ahead there where the hole is."
Ethel Blue looked at the place with longing eyes. Dogs had burrowed their way under the pickets and had worn, out a hole that seemed big enough for thin people to get through. She turned to Ethel Brown.
"It would be wrong to do it," she said, "but it would save us a long distance, because there's a short cut right to the Amphitheatre just over there inside."
Ethel Blue was open to temptation to do anything that required daring, for she was trying hard to gain courage by following the Bishop's advice and by attempting little adventures about which she felt timid.
"I'm almost dead," groaned Ethel Brown plaintively. "Do you think they could possibly catch us? You know they tell a story of a fat woman who found a place like this and squeezed her way in and when she was all in a fence guard appeared and made her squeeze herself out again."
"She was trying to cheat the Inst.i.tution out of her entrance money. We aren't doing that; we've got our gate tickets."
Somehow that made the matter seem better, though in their inmost hearts the girls knew that they were not doing what was right. Yet with a look around and a gasp of excitement they pushed their flowers through ahead of them and then struggled through themselves.
"There isn't anybody in sight," exclaimed Ethel Brown in the low voice of guilt, scanning the grounds as she helped Ethel Blue get on her feet.
"We've done it, anyway," answered Ethel Blue, and she even felt a touch of pride, in the adventure, for at least she had not been frightened.