THE ROSE FÊTE
The United Service Club had made so good a name for itself in Rosemont
during the few months of its existence that when Ethel Blue's posters
brought to their doors the news that the U. S. C. was to give a Rose
Fête at Rose House the townspeople were eager to know what attraction
the members had devised. The schools were still in session so the
Ethels and Dorothy at the graded school and Helen and Roger and the
orchestra boys at the high school made themselves into an advertising
band and told everybody all about the purpose of the festival. The
scholars carried the information home, and there were few houses in
Rosemont where it was not known that Mr. Emerson's old farmhouse was to
be turned into a summer home for weary mothers and ailing babies.
Helen and Margaret, after consulting with their mothers and Mrs. Smith
and Mrs. Emerson, had decided that a cot or single bed and two cribs
ought to go in each bedroom except Moya's, where one crib would be
enough. This meant that five beds and nine cribs must be provided, and
the number made the girls look serious as they calculated the probable
proceeds of the Rose Fête and subtracted from them the amount that they
would have to pay the local furniture dealer, even though he, being a
public spirited and charitable man, offered them a discount. For a day
or two they went about in a state of depression, for they had hoped to
be able to supply the furnishings without making any appeal to the
grownups. Thanks to Dorothy they could discount any expense for
bureaus and desks and tables, but their ambition did not soar to
constructing bedsteads; these had to be bought or given.
It became evident after a number of householders had inquired how they
could help, that there was a chance that the U. S. C. treasury might
not be reduced after all by the purchase of beds. When one lady was
informed by Helen of their schemes for filling the rooms--how the
carpenters had provided them with a table that would do for the
dining-room and how shelves innumerable were to do duty for innumerable
purposes,--and she had added ruefully, "But we can't make very good
beds, and we do want the women to sleep well, poor things. We've got
to buy those--" she had cried, "Why, I have a cot in my attic that I
should be _delighted_ to let you have, and my daughter's little boy has
outgrown his crib and I'm sure she'll contribute that."
A week before the Fête, however, they had been promised all the
bedsteads they needed--though some lacked springs, some mattresses, and
almost all were without pillows--four cribs, half a dozen chairs and
two high chairs, and a collection of odd pieces. Helen refused nothing
but double beds; there was not space enough for those in a bedroom with
three people in it; it would seem to the women too much like the
crowded tenements they came from, she thought. Miss Merriam objected
also, on the ground that it was not well for babies to sleep with grown
people.
"What do you think of this plan?" Ethel Brown asked her mother after
the girls had made a careful list of their gifts. "We did think that
if we didn't have a stick in the house the people would be interested
in helping us because of our poverty. We've found out that they are
awfully interested even without seeing the house. Do you think it
would be a good scheme to put into the rooms the things we have ready
and to fasten on the door a notice saying
'THIS ROOM NEEDS'
and under that a list of what is lacking? Don't you think some of them
would say, 'I've got an extra cushion at home that would do for a
pillow here; I'll send it over'; or 'Don't you remember that three
legged chair that used to be in Joe's room? I believe these children
can mend it and paint it to look well enough for this room'?"
"Ethel Brown, you're running Ethel Blue hard in the line of ideas!"
cried Roger admiringly from a position at the door which he had taken
as he passed through the hall and heard discussion going on.
"It's a capital idea," agreed Mrs. Morton. "You'd better ask
Grandfather again for a wagon and go around and collect the things that
have been promised. You don't want to bother people to send them over
themselves."
Every one worked with vigor during the last few days before the
festival, for the renovating of old furniture takes more time than any
one ever expects it to. The results were so satisfactory, however,
that neither the boys nor the girls gave a thought to their tired hands
and backs when evening brought them release from their labors.
The great day was clear, and, for the last of June, cool. Every plan
worked out well and every helper appeared at the moment he was wanted.
The box seats and tables, superintended by Ethel Brown and served by
half a dozen friends all wearing white dresses and pink aprons, bloomed
rosily on the veranda. Under the large rose Delia and Ethel Blue,
dressed in pink, sold fancy articles. Dorothy, sitting "under the
rose" in the rose jungle, and dressed like a moss rose, with a filmy
green tunic draping her pink frock, described brilliant futures to
laughing inquirers. Margaret, dressed to represent the yellow Scottish
roses, sold flowers from the Ethels' garden and took orders for rose
bushes.
The boys were everywhere, opening ice cream tubs for Moya in the
background, guiding would-be players to the tennis court and the
croquet ground, and directing new arrivals where to tie their horses
and park their motors. Every member of the club was provided with a
small notebook wherein to jot down any bit of advice that was offered
and seemed profitable or to record any offer of fittings that might be
made.
Helen took no regular duty, leaving herself free to go over the house
with any one who wanted to know the Club's plans, and she had more
frequent need than any of the others to use her book. Ethel Brown's
scheme had been followed. On the door of each room was posted a list
of articles needed to complete the furnishing of that room.
"They certainly aren't greedy!" exclaimed one matron after reading the
notice. "This says that this room is complete except for bed clothing."
She waved her hand around with some scorn. Helen dimpled with
amusement.
"We thought we'd make one room as nearly complete as we could," she
explained. "You see this has a bed, two cribs, a looking-glass, and
shelves as substitutes for a washstand and a closet and a table and a
bureau.
"There are no chairs, child!"
"These two boxes are the chairs. We had a few chairs given us but
they'll be needed down stairs. We think they'll have more exercise
than any chairs ever had before. They'll be used in the dining-room
for breakfast, and then they'll be moved to the veranda to spend the
morning, and in they'll come again for dinner and out they'll go for
the afternoon, and in for supper, and after supper they'll be moved
into the hall which is to serve as the sitting room!"
Helen's hearer pressed her hand to her head.
"You make me positively dizzy!" she exclaimed. "At any rate I'd like
to make this room complete according to your notions, so I'll send you
some sheets and pillow cases and blankets and a spread if you'll allow
me."
"We'll be glad to have them," accepted Helen, beaming. "Roger will
call for them if that will be more convenient for you," and she made a
note of the gift and the time when it should be sent after.
Other women remembered as they examined the door lists that they had a
mattress that could be spared, or a pillow or two or a pair of summer
blankets.
"What are you going to do for ornaments," asked another.
Helen laughed.
"James Hancock has an idea for decorating the walls so that they'll
interest the babies, and we're going to have fresh cheese-cloth
curtains at all the windows, but that's the end of our possibilities."
"I have several bureau scarves that are in good condition but they have
been washed so many times that they're a little faded. If you'd like
those--?" she ended with an upward inflection.
"We would," replied Helen promptly.
"Could you use some prints of pictures--good paintings?" inquired yet
another, a person whose taste Helen knew could be trusted.
"We'd be glad of them. We can frame them in passepartout. We'd be
especially glad of madonnas."
"That's just what I was going to offer you. A club I once belonged to
studied celebrated paintings of madonnas one winter and I made this
collection. Many of them are only penny prints and some are cut from
magazines--".
"They're perfectly good for us," Helen reassured her, and made another
note in her book.
Most of the visitors went home with the falling dark, but some stayed
to see the rose lanterns lighted, and others, who had not been able to
come in the afternoon, drove or walked out from town in the evening and
were served with ice cream and strawberries from a supply that had been
wonderfully well calculated.
"Let us have just a week to spend this money and to make up the sheets
and pillow cases and curtains and you can tell Mr. Watkins to send out
the women," Helen announced triumphantly to Delia.
"I'm going to spend the week with Margaret so I can come over with her
every day and help," returned smiling Delia.
"Then we shan't need a whole week. When you go home to-night please
ask your father to be making his selection--four mothers with two
children apiece. You and Tom can escort them out on the Tuesday after
Fourth of July."