Part 5 (1/2)
”People. They were so astonished. And, besides, I hated the gum. Inez Dolliver used to chew it with such gusto that I thought it must be rather good. And the slang sounded so easy and,--O! lighthearted, you know, and friendly. When you and Hannah Eldred use it, it never seems offensive, just pleasant and gay. But everyone looked so worried and puzzled all day at me, that I decided to stop. And next day they seemed so relieved. I told Dy-the Allen later about it (she's the dearest thing!) and she was very philosophical. She told me it wasn't becoming to my general character, just as pink wasn't becoming to my hair. I told her I had always loved pink, and wanted to wear it, and she suggested that I wear it at night. It wouldn't show in the dark and it was an innocent desire; and perhaps if I did that, I'd not want to use slang or chew gum. I didn't, after I had tried once, anyhow! Polly Osgood, here we are sitting around and I'm telling you foolish stories about myself, when we ought to be discussing library matters.”
”The other was more interesting,” sighed Polly. ”I'm going to give up slang myself soon. I never did chew gum! But I've been terribly bored lately by some rather flip young creatures I've had to see more or less, and I decided to cut it out and talk plain English. What are you smiling at?”
Then, as her own earnest sentences came back to her, she reddened a little, and joined Catherine in smiling. ”Isn't that a fright? I mean, isn't that startling? I didn't know I used it so much. Do you suppose I can cure myself and still have time and attention to give to starting the library? It's time we were down there now.”
”All right. I'm ready, as soon as I get my hat. Do you ever wear them at college?”
”Never. Now while we go along, tell me just what your idea is. What did the Hampton ladies say?”
Catherine thrust her hatpins in, as she hurried down the steps.
”They advised having some club take it up, for a time at least, and they thought it would be nice to have it be the Boat Club instead of a literary one, because the literary ones often have a spirit of compet.i.tion, and if one of them started the library the others might not feel inclined to use it.”
”I see, and the Boat Club, besides being unsectarian and interdenominational and non-partisan, has a lot of waste enthusiasm and energy that might just as well be put to work. Father says he is sure that when the thing is really running, the council will vote a tax and take it off our hands. You are sure Algernon can run it? I thought it took years of special training.”
”It does,” Catherine answered gravely, ”but we could not afford a trained librarian, and Algernon is intelligent and will study. Miss Adams gave him hints as to books to get, and she will help him. He can go over there when he gets into difficulties. She seemed to like him.
They talked about all sorts of technical things,--Algernon had a lot of information stowed away in his head, of course,--and she didn't seem bored at all.”
”I've often thought I shouldn't be, if I knew anything about the subjects he talks about,” confessed Polly. ”There are Bertha and Agnes.”
She trilled to the two girls ahead, who turned and waited.
On the flat roof of the boat house half a dozen members of the club were a.s.sembled. Polly hastened to take her seat and call the meeting to order.
”Max Penfield will act as secretary, and we shall expect the minutes done in the most approved University style. Archie Bradly, will you please state the object of the meeting?”
”Fo' de lan's sake, no!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Archie, sitting up and shutting his knife. ”That's the very thing I came to find out!”
”Very well,” said Polly, twinkling. ”Then, of course, you will pay close attention. It will do you more good than carving Andover on the benches.
There's not much s.p.a.ce left on them, now, and it's still early in the season. Catherine, will you tell us the object of the meeting? Ouch!”
for Archie had reached lazily behind her and given one of her yellow braids a gentle yank.
”You all know, already,” began Catherine, ”except perhaps Archie! We've talked it over with the older people, and they think it's perfectly practical, only some one or some organization has to take it in charge.”
”What's 'it'?” asked Archie innocently.
”Why, the library. The Boat Club is going to see that Winsted has a public library.”
”Turn into Carnegies?” inquired Max, doing a sketch of Geraldine Winthrop on the margin of the secretary's book.
”Not exactly. We haven't got our own dock built yet, and I don't think we are in a position to endow libraries. But I mean we can work and talk--”
”Talking's work,” complained Archie. ”That's redundancy.”
”It is, when you keep interrupting,” cried Bertha Davis. ”Go on, Catherine. Don't mind him. Just how can we work?”
”Well, the room will have to be cleaned thoroughly, and we girls can do most of that if the boys will help a little. And there will have to be some plain shelves put up for the books.”