Part 54 (1/2)

Polly looked up with a smile. ”Wasn't it?” she cried radiantly.

”And Father says Joe does the lists so well,” said Jasper heartily; ”he sticks at it every day like a leech, and there can't anything get him off to play till the hour is over.”

”Well, I don't see how he can,” said Alexia, drawing a long breath. ”Dear me, it would just tire me to death. Why, Polly Pepper!” Alexia threw clown her pen and stared at her. ”When is the first meeting to be?”

”Why, you know,” said Polly, writing away, laboriously; ”next Wednesday evening, of course.”

”Well, we don't say so,” said Alexia. ”How in the world are they to know?”

The other members of the Committee stopped work immediately and glanced ruefully at the little pile of notices acc.u.mulating in the middle of the table.

”We can never write those all over,” began Polly tragically.

Pickering put out a long hand and picked out from the pile the one he had written.

”I shall just write, 'Wednesday evening, July 21st,' down in one corner,”

he said.

”Oh, goody!” exclaimed Alexia, her face brightening; ”I shall do mine so”--pulling out her scrawls from the heap of notices.

”But we don't tell where the meeting is to be,” said Jasper after they had all fallen to work again.

At this second fright no one seemed to be able to speak. It was Alexia who first found her voice.

”Why not put it in the other corner?” she said.

”And that just balances,” said Jasper, holding one of his notices up when the two additions had been made, ”so it really looks better than ever.”

”But we mustn't make any more blunders,” observed Pickering wisely, ”for we haven't any extra corners to go to now.”

”Oh, we aren't going to make any,” declared Alexia, ”and we will soon be through, thank goodness!”--as the pens set up lively work once more.

”I hope so.” Polly gave a long sigh. ”Oh, dear me! it wouldn't be one-half so hard to do cooking for the Club, as to write a single one of these things.”

XXV

JACK PARISH

”Grandpapa!” Joel came in with a shout, rushed around the room two or three times, and finally came up to the big writing-table, quite blown.

”Dear me!” exclaimed old Mr. King, laying down his pen, ”have you really got through, Joe?”

”Grandpapa,” said Joel, his black eyes s.h.i.+ning, and bobbing over his head to get a good look into the old gentleman's face, ”she's asked him, she really has!”

”Who?” asked Mr. King, very much puzzled.

”Mrs. Sterling,” said Joel, in a tone of the greatest satisfaction. Then he began to dance again, snapping his brown fingers to keep time.

”When you come out of that war dance, Joel,” said old Mr. King, leaning back in his big chair to laugh at him, ”perhaps you'll have the goodness to tell me whom you are talking about all this time.”