Part 32 (1/2)
”A f.a.got party?” exclaimed Nita with interested eyes. ”Oh, do tell all about it; it sounds, well it sounds f.a.goty. What do you do?”
”Why, we use small f.a.gots tied into bundles,” explained Helen, ”that is, after we have started a good blazing fire. Each girl has her f.a.got bundle and as soon as one burns up she throws hers on-”
”Oh, but you haven't told the best part,” broke in Grace. ”While each girl's f.a.got bundle is burning she tells a story, which has to be ended by the time her f.a.gots are burned.”
”Does she have to stop on the very second?” questioned Nita.
”Yes, she begins as soon as she throws her bundle on the blaze, and keeps on talking until it is all burned up and falls to a shower of fiery sparks. But of course she has to keep a sharp look out on the burning f.a.gots, so as to end her tale with a good climax as the f.a.gots fall,” explained Helen.
”Where are you going to have it?” questioned Nita, a shade of disappointment on her face as she thought how she would like to see this f.a.got party.
”We haven't found a place yet,” answered Grace, who was one of the committee, ”but we are working hard to have it down in Deacon Ditmas's lot, near the cross-roads.”
”Why can't you have it on our lawn?” exclaimed Nita timidly, turning appealing eyes towards her mother. ”Oh, Mother, do say they can have it here, and then I can see it.”
The girls were so amazed at this sudden and unexpected proposition that they all remained silent, Nathalie in a spasm of dread for fear that Mrs. Van Vorst would think that the Pioneers were a great nuisance being thrust upon her hospitality in this abrupt manner. But she was quickly undeceived as the lady rejoined hastily, ”Why, I should be most pleased to let the Pioneers have the lawn for the f.a.got party. It would give Nita great pleasure, I am sure.”
”That will be just lovely!” cried her daughter, clapping her hands delightedly. ”And you will take it, won't you?” she coaxed pleadingly, suddenly stopping her demonstrations as if realizing that her plan might not be pleasing to the girls.
”I think it would be dandy,” answered Grace. ”What do you girls think?”
turning towards them as she spoke.
”Why, I think it would be fine,” added Helen, ”and-”
”But oh, Mrs. Van Vorst, it will destroy the gra.s.s on the lawn,” spoke up Nathalie doubtfully, ”for our cheer fires always leave a blackened burnt place on the ground.”
”That will not make any difference,” was the prompt rejoinder from that lady. ”Peter can rake it off and if necessary he can resod it. I shall only be delighted if you young girls can use it, and the favor will all be on my side-” her voice trembled slightly-”for it will give my little daughter so much pleasure.”
”Oh, Nita! you are walking, you will fall and hurt yourself!” exclaimed Nathalie excitedly, as she entered that young lady's room the Monday after the Flag Drill, and found her walking about with a coolness and ease that she had never before seen her display.
Nita broke into merry laughter at the look of dismay on her friend's face. ”Of course I'm walking, the doctor says I can, so there!” There was a triumphant toss of her head at Nathalie.
”But you have never walked, that is not much since I have known you!”
cried the puzzled girl.
”And you thought I never could,” replied the little lady independently.
”Well, you are wrong. I used to walk when I felt able, sometimes quite a little. Then a crank of a doctor frightened Mamma to death by telling her I should always lie on my back or side, and for years I have been nailed like a mast to a s.h.i.+p on that couch. But Dr. Morrow says if I have the strength I should walk, and that my strength will come gradually. Oh, who knows what I can do? Walk off this old hump, I hope!”
”Oh, you dear thing!” cried Nathalie, rus.h.i.+ng to her friend and giving her a squeeze. ”Isn't that just the loveliest thing? What nice times we can have after a while if you can walk, and Dr. Morrow, I always knew he was a dear!”
”There, don't squeeze me to bits, but tell me all the things that have happened since the Flag Drill, and oh, Nathalie, your friends are dears.
The one you call Grace is sweet, and the other one, why, she isn't so pretty, but she looks a good sort.”
”She is something more than a 'good sort,'” answered Nathalie swiftly, ”she is a gem, she is so clever and sensible, and, oh, what a friend she has proved to me! She has a wonderful way of helping you over the hard places. But there, I will tell you what Grace said about you, she said you were a sweet little cherub-and-”
”Just arrived from angel land I suppose, with wings all sprouting,”
ventured Nita sarcastically. ”Well, she ought to see me when I'm mad.