The ones of us who had started the Society of the Wouldbegoods began, at
about this time, to bother.
They said we had not done anything really noble--not worth speaking of,
that is--for over a week, and that it was high time to begin
again--"with earnest endeavor," Daisy said. So then Oswald said:
"All right; but there ought to be an end to everything. Let's each of us
think of one really noble and unselfish act, and the others shall help
to work it out, like we did when we were Treasure Seekers. Then when
everybody's had their go-in we'll write every single thing down in the
Golden Deed book, and we'll draw two lines in red ink at the bottom,
like father does at the end of an account. And after that, if any one
wants to be good they can jolly well be good on our own, if at all."
The ones who had made the Society did not welcome this wise idea, but
Dicky and Oswald were firm.
So they had to agree. When Oswald is really firm, opposingness and
obstinacy have to give way.
Dora said, "It would be a noble action to have all the school-children
from the village and give them tea and games in the paddock. They would
think it so nice and good of us."
But Dicky showed her that this would not be _our_ good act, but
father's, because he would have to pay for the tea, and he had already
stood us the keepsakes for the soldiers, as well as having to stump up
heavily over the coal barge. And it is in vain being noble and generous
when some one else is paying for it all the time, even if it happens to
be your father. Then three others had ideas at the same time and began
to explain what they were.
We were all in the dining-room, and perhaps we were making a bit of a
row. Anyhow, Oswald, for one, does not blame Albert's uncle for opening
his door and saying:
"I suppose I must not ask for complete silence. That were too much. But
if you could whistle, or stamp with your feet, or shriek or
howl--anything to vary the monotony of your well-sustained
conversation."