CHAPTER THREE
DISCOVERY OF THE "THINKERATOR"
The bright sunshine peered straight into Miss Miller's face in themorning and invited her to listen to the singing of birds, the busyclucking of chickens, and the swish of the pines that stood near herwindow, at the back of the house.
She leaped from bed and sighed with happiness at the picture of ruralbeauty before her. But how could the noise of thrifty chickens reachher when Sherwood's cottage was so far away?
"I must investigate!" murmured Miss Miller, as she quickly dressed andcrept downstairs. Out of the back door took another minute and shestood on the kitchen stoop looking eagerly about. From the direction ofthe carriage-sheds came the sound.
"I must call and say good-morning," said the teacher, and forthwith ranalong the path until the out-houses were reached.
There, sure enough, was a scolding hen with a dozen chicks misbehavingwith all their might, and a few other sedate hens, intent uponbreakfast.
"Bill must have brought them over yesterday. I'm glad for the girls'sake, as it will be part of their education--becoming acquainted withall manner of creatures."
Miss Miller cheeped, too, and attracted one of the small yellow ballsof down and soon had it cuddled up to her face. The mother-hen, albeitshe had been scolding a moment previous, now flew into hysterics at thethreatened kidnapping of her chick.
"Poor little mother! Did you think I would rob you of a child?" laughedMiss Miller, as she carefully placed the little chick in the grass.Then, taking a deep breath of fresh morning air, she walked back to thehouse.
"I suppose the children _are_ tired after yesterday! I must guardmyself and not be too critical and severe with them--they are stillyoung and only partially developed, both mind and body!"
She reached the kitchen and started preparations for breakfast. Whilethe cereal was boiling and the kettle singing, she gathered a bouquetof flowers from a roundel on the front lawn. These gave fragrance tothe table, and by the time the dishes were all placed, the cereal wascooked.
"High time they were up!" quoth Miss Miller, as she went upstairs torouse the girls.
But Zan, a true country girl, had been awake for some time and enjoyedthe fresh morning breeze from her window.
"Did you make friends with Groutch?" asked she, as Miss Miller smiled agood-morning to her.
"Groutch--who's Groutch?" pondered the teacher.
"Why, the old hen! She's always quarrelling with friends or family, sowe named her Groutch," laughed Zan.
"Oh--the hen! I wondered how she got there? Did you see me talking toher?" replied Miss Miller.
Zan laughed delightedly at an opportunity to correct the teacher."No--I _saw_ you there but _heard_ you talking!"
"One for you, Zan! That casts discredit on my early morning thinkingapparatus, doesn't it?" said Miss Miller, laughing at her own expense."But tell me--did Bill bring the chickens?"
"Thereby hangs a tale," giggled Zan, turning her back and asking Nitato hook the centre of her dress-waist.
The other girls came in to hear a possible story, and Zan explained thepresence of Groutch and her friends.
"Last summer Fiji had the chicken-raising fever and we let him have thecarriage-house for his venture. He succeeded, too, but Fall came andwe had to go back to the city. He had sold half his chickens to motherduring the late summer, and wanted to sell the other half to friendsin the city, but Daddy didn't like the idea of that. Finally, thebutcher in Junction took all he had, and when it came time to deliverthe chickens on our way home, not a sign of Groutch and the three otherhens could we find! We had to leave with only the spring chickens. Aday after we got home Bill Sherwood wrote Fiji that the hens all cameback to roost outside the house the same night. Fiji wrote for him totake them to the butcher the first time he went to Junction. And, MissMiller, you can believe me or not, those hens skiddooed every time BillSherwood planned to catch them! After several vain trials, he sent wordto Fiji that he was done with chicken chasing! How we laughed at thatletter!"
"How remarkable! And I never gave chickens credit for anyintelligence!" said Miss Miller.
"No, and most folks think they are stupid things; why, you know theslang saying, 'crazy as a hen,'" added Nita.
"Well, they're not! Why, that Groutch wouldn't even go to live inBill's chicken coop with his flock. No siree! She just sulked abouthere until Bill had to open the carriage house for her to make her nestagain. Then, he cut a small opening near the door so she could get inand out when the door was locked. In the next day or two, Bill missedthe other hens from his chicken-house where they had been contented.And what do you think! That sly old hen had gone after them and ledthem back to their original home--and there they've stayed ever since!Whenever we come down to visit the farm those daffy old hens cluckand wriggle about Fiji's feet as if he were the Prince and they hissubjects!"
"I think that is lovely! To think of those hens showing their joy andrecognition that way!" exclaimed Miss Miller, amazed.
"Daddy says that Fiji has the true Nature instinct, for every animalhe meets seems to know him instantly and show a regard for him," addedZan.
"I have always wished that I had that great gift! It can be cultivatedwith great sincerity and love for Nature, but some are gifted with itunconsciously!" sighed Miss Miller.
The four girls had listened to Zan's tale with wonderment, and as MissMiller remembered the breakfast, and said it was waiting, Jane said,"We should have missed this in the Adirondacks."
"I see many beauties we would have missed had we gone far off to themountains! One of them is the lowly and silent lesson under Elena'sfeet," said Miss Miller.
All eyes looked down at the floor but saw nothing beside the braidedmat. Miss Miller smiled and ran down-stairs without vouchsafing anexplanation.
"Miss Miller certainly does puzzle me until she deigns to explain--thenit all seems plain as day!" said Hilda.
But further talk was interrupted by a delighted cry from the frontporch. The five girls hurried down and joined their teacher on theporch.
"Why--strawberries! How did they get here?" cried some of the girls.
"A note on top of one box said that Mrs. Sherwood sent them over forour breakfast--if we had not finished already!" laughed Miss Miller,looking at her watch.
"It must be almost eight o'clock!" ventured Nita.
"No, it is five to six!" replied Miss Miller.
"Six--why it feels like noon!" said Jane.
"That's because the air is so invigorating," returned Zan. "We alwayshave to get up early in the country, and that gives you such a long,long day to enjoy!"
"I suppose Sherwoods rise at four," Miss Miller said.
"Dear no! Why four o'clock is almost midnight! Why should any one wishto get up at that dreadful hour!" cried Nita, horror-struck at suchhabits.
"Because country folks retire with the sun and rise with it--that'swhat all true Indians do, and so will we presently," said Miss Miller,smiling at the various expressions on the faces about her.
"Come now, we'll hull the berries and then enjoy them!" and in a fewminutes every one was engaged in crushing the ripe fruit in a deep dishof rich cream--real unadulterated cream!
When the dishes had been washed and placed in the closet Miss Milleradvised each one to unpack what baggage had been brought by hand theday before. The clothes worn on the journey down to the farm were tobe carefully hung in the closets upstairs and the ordinary gymnasiumuniforms worn until their costumes were completed.
"Our next step will be to choose a permanent site for our tents, andtry to move the articles we need from the barn to the woods," said MissMiller.
"Can't we ask Bill Sherwood to do that? It's so warm to-day," criedNita, peevishly.
"If Bill were not here, who would you have do it?" asked the teacher.
"Hire some one else, I s'pose," muttered Nita.
"I wonder what you would have done if we had gone to the wild mountainsfor our first experiment, as you wanted
us to," asked Zan, curiously.
"Oh, that would have been different. We'd _have_ to do our share there,you know, or go without," replied Nita.
"That is exactly what we intend doing here--work or go without!" saidMiss Miller, emphatically.
"But that tramp across the fields and woods to move the bedding andother stuff! Phew, Miss Miller, do you realise what a herculean taskthat means?" replied Nita, dismayed.
"It gets worse every minute we stand here and worry over it!" laughedZan.
Without further ado, Zan, followed by Miss Miller and all of the girlsexcepting Nita, went toward the barns where the boys' tents and outfitswere stored. They were soon thrown out of the wide hay-loft window anddue inspection given them to test their worth for usage.
"Girls, has either one of you thought of a possible way to carry theseoutfits over to the Bluff without exerting yourselves too much?" askedMiss Miller, when the girls stood ready to shoulder their burdens.
They looked at each other for an answer. None came. Finally,Jane looked at the teacher and laughingly remarked, "One of your_think-right_ schemes?"
Miss Miller nodded and smiled. "How did you know?"
Jane was dumb, as she had merely thought of teasing Miss Miller and wastaken aback at her reply.
"Is it possible that Zan hasn't an inkling of what to do in thiscase--and she is a country girl?" added Miss Miller.
No one seemed inspired with original thought that morning, so theteacher started for the woods, carrying her burden.
"Wait a minute, Miss Miller!" shouted Hilda. "Give us time to figurethis out, and save our backs!"
Every one laughed, still no one could solve the way to move withoutdoing the moving. Again the teacher sighed and said, "When one won'tthink, one must pay the price!"
This time each girl shouldered as much of the outfit as could becomfortably carried, and followed in the footsteps of the teacher, whowas at least twenty feet in advance.
At the Bluff, the heavy luggage was dropped with sighs of relief. MissMiller left the girls to either think or go back for the rest of thecanvas and cots.
"I am going down to Bill's for the stuff that came out by express afew days ago. The cases are down in the Sherwood's barn. Bill offeredto open them and help me take the stuff out. While you girls see thatthe other things are moved over here I will attend to moving up the newthings." With this the teacher started down the slope.
"Hey! Miss Miller, won't you tell us the secret in moving withoutmoving?" laughed Zan, catching hold of the teacher's short skirt as shepassed.
"I find that a child that depends upon the mother to help it out ofdifficulties never advances like the one who has to work his ownproblems. I believe that one reason our city newsboys are so clever isjust because they must depend upon their own wits. It puts a sharp edgeon wits--using them for oneself."
As soon as the teacher had disappeared about the corner of Sherwood'scottage, Zan suggested a plot to trap her. The other girls laughedmerrily and jumped up to follow Zan into the woods.
The boxes and bales at Bill's barn were soon unpacked and Bill stood upwiping his brow with a red bandanna. He took a calculating glance atthe steep slope and remarked, "Some haul!"
"Oh, not for a strong plough-horse that has been idle for two days!"replied Miss Miller, innocently.
Bill flushed and his eyes shot fire as he said, "Meanin' jus' what,ma'am?"
"Why, you told me how Nancy ate her head off since the family were notcoming down and no extra work could be found for the horse to do. Ithought she could drag these things up to the Bluff for us," repliedMiss Miller, finding it hard to control a strong inclination to laugh.
The farmer's face underwent a sudden change as he smiled broadly andreplied, "Oh, ya'as-sam! Of course! Nancy is a powerful beast!"
The two went to the barn to request Nancy to come forth and take herpart in the day's work, when Miss Miller spied a queer steel-barredframe lying on a rubbish heap by the side of the barn-yard fence. Itlooked like a skeleton of a huge cradle without rockers.
"Bill, what is that strange thing over there?"
"That? Oh, that's a section of an old harvestin' machine we hain't usedfur years! They've got better ones nowadays. That one is on'y good t'sell fur junk!" explained Bill.
"Then we can have it now, can't we? Have you a piece of strong rope?"
"Sure! but I don't see what yuh want with this ole cradle," mused Bill.
"You'll see!" said Miss Miller, as she tied one end of the ropesecurely to the steel cradle and hitched the rope to Nancy's harness.The cradle was dragged across the grass to the pile of articlesawaiting transportation. The cradle was soon filled and Nancy startedup the slope. At the Bluff the goods were deposited and Bill sent backwith Nancy for the rest.
Miss Miller stood sorting out the various things when a loud laughsounded from the trunks of some nearby trees.
"Ah-ha! We caught you shirking work!" called the girls as they ran outand surrounded the teacher.
"Oh, no you haven't! You merely saw the effect of some common sensethought!" retorted Miss Miller.
"Hum! So that is what you meant when you wanted us to think of anordinary way to move?" laughed Zan.
Miss Miller nodded while the others stood about with nothing to say.
When Bill came up with the second load he smiled at Zan as he remarked,"Miss Miller is some conniver, eh? But I rickon she ain't strong on th'house-work idees. Ef she was, she'd be a powerful help to my ole ladywho gits laid up regerlar ever winter with stiff jints, so thet mos'th' house-work comes on me."
"Bill, maybe I can show you both some things this summer that will notonly make living a joy but keep stiff joints out of your experienceentirely," replied the teacher.
"Say, ef you kin do that! The doctor tried en failed wid his medicine,an' him's a smart doctor, too!"
Zan laughed appreciatively at the comparison and turned to Miss Miller."Now, you have to show Bill or lose your reputation as a 'conniver.'"
"There goes Nancy--down the slope toward her feed-bag! If you girlswant to take advantage of my patent moving-machine, you'd better runafter and catch her!" laughed Miss Miller.
This put an end to health discussions at the time, and the girls racedafter the horse before she could get too far away from them. It was asimple matter to haul the outfit from the barn to the Bluff, and Zanplumed herself upon the idea that made them hide behind the trees towatch the teacher and discover her plan to move the baggage to theBluff.
All assembled about the heap of baggage on the Bluff, Miss Millersuggested that each one select a spot for her tent and start erectingit.
"Why, the Bluff here is the very spot!" said Nita.
"Couldn't be better!" added Elena.
"It has a lovely view, hasn't it?" said Hilda.
"I don't see how it is practical!" objected Miss Miller.
"Why, do you know of a lovelier place?" asked Jane.
"Oh, no. The _beauty_ goes without saying."
Zan pondered the accent on the word "beauty" and the way the teacherspoke of practical. She waited for further developments.
"Well, then, girls, let's shove these bundles off of the Bluff anddrive our stakes!" ordered Nita, taking for granted that every onewould do as she said.
"If you have no objections, I think I will pitch _my_ tent over by theedge of the forest trees," ventured Miss Miller.
"Of course you can camp where you like, but I don't see why you'd goway back there when this wonderful view can be had as we lay in bed andwatch the sun rise!" remonstrated Nita.
"Guess we won't spend much time in bed watching the sun rise, and theview is just as fine out of the tent as in it," replied Miss Miller, asshe picked up her canvas and ropes and started for the grassy groundnear the trees.
The girls began with mallets and pegs, but the stakes would notgo down. The moss was only an inch thick and scarcely any soil layunderneath in which to hold the pegs. Here and there a crevice in therock would permit a stake to en
ter a bit and snap it off short. Thegirls grew hot and angry at the futile work but Miss Miller seemed tobe very successful in pitching her tent.
The girls stood and watched for some time, as she drove some stakesin the earth quite easily, then fastened some ropes from one tree toanother to give extra security in case of a blow.
A few smaller twigs and saplings had been cleared out of her way,leaving a delightful shady spot where the tent stood. Zan swallowed herpride and went over to look at the completed work.
"The view isn't so very much when you come to think of the fact that wewon't be in our tents very much!" ventured Zan.
"I don't expect to use mine except for sleeping, and one can't see theview in the dark," returned the Guide.
"Miss Miller, did you know we'd have hard work trying to drive pegs inthe Bluff when you stood there waiting for us to _think_?" asked Zan,smilingly.
"Yes, dear, and I would have liked to save you the work, but that isn'thelping you. Charity never helps, it hinders."
Zan ran back to tell her companions, but found them all in aquarrelling mood because they had been so unsuccessful in accomplishingtheir own intentions. Nita was saying disagreeable things to theothers, and Jane had just told Nita what a little cat she was. Hildahad rolled over in the freshly pulled moss, her face buried in itscooling green. Elena sat pouting on the edge of the Bluff swinging amallet back and forward, threatening to strike Nita's angry face everytime it swung back.
"Girls, we're a lot of idiots! Miss Miller is the only one with sense.Go over and look at that tent, then come back with sugary smiles anddrag these tents over next to hers. I have just learned to parse theword beauty as she pronounced it when she said, the _beauty_ of theBluff went without any contradiction. In parsing, I find that beautyis not always the desirable object! It's well enough in its way, butfor driving stakes to hold down canvas tents, give me a good old solidchunk of ground!" said Zan, decidedly.
"Well, anyway, I'm not going to hide myself way back as far as she is.We can find plenty of ground nearer the Bluff and not feel cooped up bythe trees," ventured Nita, as the other girls followed Zan's exampleand carried their paraphernalia over to the trees.
Thus it happened that Nita's tent stood first from the Bluff, a fewfeet to the side of the trees. Hilda and Elena chose a site a few feetback from Nita's and near enough to a tree to utilise its trunk for theropes. The third smaller tent was quite close to Miss Miller's but notas far back as hers.
"The stakes do not go down as deep as I think they should, girls, butyou can change them this afternoon if you decide to move back where mytent is. As they stand now, a strong wind may tear them down."
"Oh, they'll hold all right! What's the next thing to do?" said Jane,who was tired of bothering with tents.
Miss Miller looked at her watch. "It's only ten o'clock and you girlshave been up since five. Maybe you'd like to walk to the house for apiece-meal?"
"Would we? Well, I just guess there'll be no dissenting voice on thatproposition!" laughed Hilda.
"I must confess, my appetite says it must be nearly supper time," addedJane.
Without further ado, the Clan started for the house to pacify a gnawingthat interfered with work or play. On the steps of the front porch, averitable feast was soon enjoyed. Although it consisted of bread andjam sandwiches, with water as a stimulant, never did the five girlstaste anything so delicious. When all the delectable bread and crumbsdisappeared, sighs came from five hearts.
"Dear, why is it that good things never last half long enough!"wondered Zan, aloud.
While the others laughed, Miss Miller arose from the floor where shehad been sitting, and walked out to the grass at the side of the house.
"What do you see, Miss Miller?" called Elena.
"I thought we might have a little visit in the garden. We will likesome edibles at camp to-night, and the garden is so near, we may aswell see what we can find."
The girls eagerly assented to the plan and were soon on the pathleading to the garden, pails and baskets swinging as they went. Theywere passing a patch of early potatoes when the Guide called theirattention to the humble vegetable.
"Doesn't any one here eat potatoes?"
"Of course we do, but we can get them on our way back," replied Hilda.
"How many of you know whether a potato is a root, fruit, or stem?"asked Miss Miller, as she stood near a healthy plant.
"Wh-y, it's a fruit, isn't it?" replied Jane.
"No, it's a root," added Zan.
"'Tis neither," said Miss Miller. "A potato is a swollen stem thatsends up shoots above ground to bear leaves. I will show you," and theteacher dug up a small potato.
"As the potato grows these small eyes form deeper folds. It looks forall the world like an eye with a heavy lid over it. If we want to usethis potato the next year for planting, it is left in the cellar untiltime to cut. In early spring these eyes send out tubers, and everytuber will make a new vine when planted. Sometimes one large potatowill make several good vines.
"The old potato furnishes starch for the new growth to feed upon andbefore the young potatoes form under ground the old one is dried up bythe use of its starch. The green leaves send down nourishment in turnfor the young potatoes at the end of the stem, until they have attainedtheir growth in the Fall.
"Potatoes used to be grown from seed that formed in the small podleft when the blossoms fell off. But growing potatoes from tubers ofold ones was so much quicker, and saved so much labour, that a crisishas been reached in the present day. The potatoes are now unable toproduce seed! No seed is to be had for general use. Last year an offerof several hundred dollars was made for a thimble-full of potato seed,and do you know, girls, that not a farmer in the United States couldprocure enough potato seed to win that prize offer!"
"Why, my goodness! What will we do?" said Zan.
"We'll have to retrace our steps and find a way to accomplish progresswithout so important a loss. No one has ever given a thought what todo in case of a potato famine, for the homely vegetable has alwaysbeen so abundant. But its very value is depreciating slowly, for veryfew potatoes will keep long, and almost all potatoes have great blackspots in the centre, while many of them have 'dry rot.' This is dueto the manner in which they are grown to-day. Each crop depletes thenourishing qualities of the new one, and finally they will no longerflourish."
"Add to this the pest of potato bugs and it looks as if potatoes weredoomed, doesn't it?" added Zan.
"Bugs? Why, Zan, do potatoes have bugs?" cried the girls.
"The vines do! Potato bugs look a great deal like a lady-bug only Ithink they are prettier," replied Zan.
"But they are not as harmless as the lady-bug," added Miss Miller. "Apotato bug will soon destroy a vine if it is left to feed unmolested."
"What can one do to them?" asked Jane, curiously.
"Dad pays the boys and me a cent a dozen to carry a small tin can undereach vine and, with a stick, push them off of the potato vine into thecan with some kerosene in it," said Zan.
"Ugh! How can you! I think that is horrid!" exclaimed Elena, herartistic soul in arms against such a method.
"This summer Bill will have to spray hellebore on the vines, or useParis Green to kill the bugs, for I don't want to spend time that wayany more," said Zan, laughing at Elena's expression.
Miss Miller smiled, too, as they continued through the garden and cameto the grape arbour. She gave them a short talk on the habits andqualities of various grapes and how to distinguish the grape-vine-leafof the different varieties.
"Miss Miller, I spy a few cherries left for us by the robins. I willclimb the tree and pick them while you tell the girls about the fruit,"offered Zan, taking her basket and soon, up among the branches,throwing down cherries for the Band.
"If we had been a few weeks sooner we should have seen the blossomsfall off and leave small cups where they have been. This cup dries upand finally bursts. Inside it, the tiny green cherry has been forming.This now grows and with the
aid of sun and rain, becomes this size,but it is still green; when it is full-grown it turns a pale yellow,then pink, and lastly a crimson like this one. At that time, the fruitis ripe for picking, or the robins will get them before you know it!Robins are very fond of ripe cherries."
Zan had gathered all within reach and slid down the tree with herbasket. "Hardly worth the bother--there are so few," said she, shakingthem in the bottom of the basket.
"But they are fine and sweet!" remarked Jane, smacking her lips overone.
"Oh, look quick! See the rabbit over there in that green patch!" criedElena, eagerly.
"Yes, it's one of the bunnies I told you of. He knows where the carrotand cabbage patches are. He's digging for a carrot now. Let's go oververy softly and watch him," said Zan.
But the rabbit was too timid to remain at dinner with a number of noisygirls watching nearby, and he soon disappeared.
Hilda pulled out the young carrot the bunny had partly dug out andasked Miss Miller about it.
"The carrot is a root vegetable that is at first a tiny thin stringthat grows down into the dark earth. As the leaves grow the root growstoo, and in the fall when the leaves dry and die, the root remainsuntil it is dug out for use. If it is not used it remains in the grounduntil spring when it sends up new leaves and flowers. The blossomsmake seeds and these in turn fall and grow new carrots, then the oldone, its purpose fulfilled, dies."
"Poor old carrot! It works away down in the darkness all its life, andfurnishes flowers for new carrots, and then dies, without ever havingenjoyed the world," sighed Zan.
"But it did its work well, and that is all we are expected to do here,"said Miss Miller.
"Well, I think I'd like a bit more beauty in my life than the carrotgets, or I'd rebel," laughed Elena.
As the Band walked through the garden, first noting one vegetable, thenanother, they arrived at some fruit trees. "There's a prune, girls,"said Miss Miller, pointing to a plum that hung in the sunshine from aslender tree-branch.
"A prune! Why, it's a plum!" laughed Nita.
"A plum that will be a fine prune some day!"
"Are prunes made from plums?" asked Elena, dubiously.
"Yes, but not all plums will make good prunes. A special kind is raisedfor that purpose. In California, where most of our best prunes comefrom, great orchards of plum trees grow and bear fruit. When the plumsare ripe they are gathered and packed in boxes to be shipped to everypart of the globe."
Zan spied some raspberry bushes after that and ran over to see ifany were ripe enough to pluck. She gathered enough for supper, andturning back to join the other girls, found Miss Miller pointing outthe difference between red and black raspberries. The girls listenedeagerly to the interesting information that showed them how theblossoms fell to make way for the green seed. The seeds later, swollento the size of a ripe berry, being green, gradually changed to a paleyellow; the sun and dew still reaching it turned it to a pink, andat last to the rich crimson with the down on the face. If it shouldhappen to remain on the stem, it would finally dry up and scatter itstiny seeds to sink into the ground and start another vine growing thefollowing spring.
The Band gathered enough lettuce and fruit for supper, and vegetablesfor dinner the following day, before Miss Miller started toward thehouse.
After leaving the garden, the teacher explained that she thought theyought to hold a meeting that afternoon at the Bluff. Being only five innumber, they could not have a charter granted by Headquarters until thecustomary number were members--ten or more.
"We will try and win our rights by doing the required tests as quicklyas possible, then, when we can take the Fire Brownie's tests withoutmistakes, we can call for a second Band to unite under our Tribalbanner. The two can grow side by side until the number--ten--belongto each Band. After we have two Bands and at least ten members alltold, we will be ready to be initiated as a Tribe by the Council atHeadquarters."
The Woodcraft Girls at Camp Page 3
