DYE AWAY
Bearing a basket of eggs between them Joanne and Winnie arrived at Miss
Chesney’s house the next morning. As the door opened a great chattering
was heard.
“Oh,” exclaimed Winnie, “some of the Boy Scouts must be here.”
Joanne drew back almost loosing her hold upon the basket.
“What’s the matter?” queried Winnie.
“Boys,” responded Joanne. “I--I’m kind of afraid of boys. I don’t know
how to talk to them.”
“Nonsense,” returned Winnie. “You talk to them just as you do to girls.
Come along and don’t be silly.”
So Joanne followed Winnie’s bold entrance and soon found herself in the
midst of a merry group of girls and boys.
“Here they are!” cried Virgie. “Did you bring the eggs? Good! How
many?”
“Four dozen and a half,” answered Joanne; “we thought we’d better allow
for breakage.”
“Yum-yum, what lovely fresh eggs!” exclaimed Virgie as she peeped into
the basket. “Did they come from that place in the country?”
“Yes. Cousin Ned and I went out there yesterday afternoon and got them,
so I can guarantee that they are strictly fresh. It was perfectly
lovely out there, and will be even lovelier when we all go.”
“I am just crazy about going,” returned Virgie. “Come out into the
kitchen, Jo; the boys are out there. They are dyeing eggs for the
wounded soldiers at the hospital. We’re letting them get through first
and then they will help us do ours.”
Joanne followed Virgie rather timidly. Winnie was already in the midst
of the company. “Here’s Jo, girls and boys,” announced Virgie. “It’s Jo
Selden, boys, and she has brought all these lovely eggs from that spot
in the country we have been telling you about.”
“It must be a corking place,” remarked the boy nearest Joanne. “Tell us
about it, Jo. Gee whiz! but you’re lucky to have a cousin like that.”
“Yes, tell us, Jo,” spoke up two or three others. “We want to hear all
about it, for we’re looking for a place to camp, and we thought maybe
we Boy Scouts could find favor in your cousin’s sight so he’d let us in
on the ground floor, as it were.”
“It surely would be ground floor,” returned Joanne, and before she
knew it she was chattering away to half a dozen at once, waxing
eloquent on the subject of the lodge, the river and all the rest of it.
“Ye gods and little fishes!” exclaimed Chet Lacey, “I never heard of
such attractions all in one spot. It makes me fairly squirm with envy.
I say, boys, we’ve just got to see it, if we do no more than wriggle
inside the first fence. We’ve all got to be awfully nice to Joanne so
she will tell Mr. Pattison what a fine lot we are. Miss Selden, won’t
you allow me to escort you to a chair? Do you feel too warm? Shall I
fan you? Are you chilly? Do permit me to get you a shawl or something.”
Of course Joanne had to dimple and laugh at this nonsense, but it made
her feel perfectly at home with these unaffected boys, so that before
long she was as merry as the rest.
“Where’s Claudia?” she asked as she realized that their patrol leader
was not present.
“She’ll be here in a minute,” Virgie told her. “She is writing a song
for the occasion. Watch those blue eggs, Jo; they mustn’t get too dark.”
So Joanne turned her attention to the pan of eggs while the boys
carefully ladled out those already done. There were four boys in the
party, Chesney Lacey, Miss Chesney’s nephew, better known as Chet,
Milton Seymour, Peter Lowe and Hal Fosdick. A great deal of chaffing
went on, but the business of dyeing the eggs was not allowed to suffer.
Presently Claudia came in waving a paper. “I did it!” she exclaimed,
“with my little hatchet.”
“Did you hatch it?” inquired Pete. At which the other boys fell upon
him.
“Here, here,” cried Miss Chesney, “no scrapping, boys.”
“We couldn’t stand it,” answered Chet, “really, Aunt Nan, we couldn’t.”
“If you can hatch a plot I don’t see why you couldn’t hatch a song,”
said Pete as he smoothed down his rumpled hair.
“Don’t let’s argue that,” remarked Miss Chesney; “let’s have Claudia’s
song. Out with it, Claudia.”
“You won’t have to listen long,” said Claudia, “for it is very short.
It goes to a little boat song that I reckon you all know; that song
‘Lightly Row,’ you know. Any one who doesn’t know it can soon catch on.
Here goes:
“Dye away! Dye away,
This is less of work than play.
Make them bright, dark or light,
Then they’ll be just right.
Eggs of red and eggs of blue,
Yellow, green and purple hue;
Dye away! Dye away!
Make the colors gay.
Sing and work! Work and sing!
Mix a song with everything.
Children dear, eggs are here
For your Easter cheer.
Eggs of red and eggs of blue
We are dyeing now for you.
Dye away! Dye away!
Make the colors gay.”
“Fine, Claudia,” cried her audience. “Let’s go to it.” And in a few
minutes the room resounded with the song.
Joanne knew the old melody very well, for it was one her grandmother
had sung to her when she was only a baby, so her voice rang out sweet
and clear. The words, scribbled in large letters on a big sheet of
paper hung on the wall, were easily read by every one. Over and over
they were sung while the eggs were stirred in the dye, and it was only
when the last eggs were transferred to a big bowl that the song ceased.
“We’ve requisitioned two automobiles,” said Hal Fosdick. “Who wants to
go along with us? We are going to the hospital, but can drop you girls
at the Home if you say so.”
Then there was a discussion as to who should go and who should not.
Some of the girls had luncheon engagements, so finally the number
dwindled down to six, and it was decided that these should accept the
boys’ invitation, and should carry the eggs to the Orphan’s Home.
Joanne and Winnie were among the six and found themselves in the car
with Miss Chesney, Chet Lacey and Hal Fosdick. It was a matter of but
a few minutes to reach the Home and to deliver the eggs, then what
Winnie called the “Dye away party” broke up and Joanne was at home
again.
She was hardly indoors before her grandmother called her to say: “Your
Cousin Neds wants you to call him up at his office as soon as you can.”
Joanne needed no second summons but was at the ’phone in a minute and
soon heard her Cousin Ned’s voice. “This is Joanne, Cousin Ned,” she
responded to his “Hello!”
“Good!” came the response. “What do you think of leading your Girl
Scouts up to the lodge next Tuesday? Don’t you have holiday next week?
What’s the good of waiting till Saturday?”
“Of course we needn’t wait, that is if the girls can go; some of them
can I know. Miss Dodge is away, but Miss Chesney is here. Tell me how
you happened to think of our going on Tuesday.”
“I saw Dawson this morning; he drove down with Tim Clover, and said he
was coming down again with the boat on Monday, expects to start back on
Tuesday, and says he can take you all along if you want to go. You’d
better hustle around and get your girls together so as to let me know
by Monday.”
“I’ll do it. Are you going up with us, Cousin Ned?”
“Afraid I can’t this time, but you’ll be all right with Unc’ Aaron and
Mrs. Clover to look after you.”
“Of course we shall. I’ll go to see Miss Chesney at once and then
we’ll get hold of the girls. I’m so excited I can hardly talk.”
“Then don’t. Good-bye.” And Joanne found herself cut off.
It was a busy afternoon for her. First came the consultation with Miss
Chesney who expressed herself as not only willing but eager to head the
expedition, if, by chance, Miss Dodge had not returned.
“She has gone no farther than Baltimore,” said Miss Chesney. “It will
be easy to get her on the ’phone, and, unless she has made engagements
she cannot break or cancel in some way, it is my opinion that she will
come back.”
“But you’ll go anyhow, won’t you?” inquired Joanne who was a little
speck fonder of her lieutenant than of her captain.
“Oh, my yes; wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Then for an hour they were busy in calling up different girls, and
finally the matter was settled. Six girls would be ready to join the
expedition. Some had made engagements they could not break; some had
tickets for the Wednesday matinées; two or three were going to be out
of town.
“I’d rather go to the country than to any old matinée,” remarked
Joanne. “There are always chances to go to matinées but a chance like
this is rare.”
“I agree with you perfectly, my child,” said Miss Chesney. “Well, it
is all settled and all there is to find out is when and where we meet.
I suppose we start from Georgetown; that’s where the canal ends, or
begins, whichever way you put it.”
It was joyous company which met on the bank of the old canal. Each girl
was equipped for such an outing, Joanne, for the first time, wearing
her outfit, and very proud of it. At the last minute Miss Dodge dashed
up, having cut short her visit in order to be with her troop. There
were many delays, Mr. Dawson being a deliberate sort of person, who
every little while forgot something he intended to get at the store
near by, and must go back for it, but at last they were off.
Every girl was in a state of giggling excitement as the boat began to
slip through the quiet waters. It was all such a novelty, the flat
canal boat, the patient mule walking the tow-path, his ramshackle,
dusky driver, the first lock where the boat rose slowly up, up when the
gates were shut and finally swung out upon a higher level, the shores
growing wilder and wilder till soon it seemed as if they must be miles
and miles beyond civilization, the rush of the rapids at Little Falls,
and then the quiet flow of the blue Potomac.
“Such a leisurely way of going, but it is never monotonous,” remarked
Miss Dodge when the girls had quieted down and were making few attempts
at conversation.
“I could go this way forever,” said Miss Chesney as she lay back lazily
watching the light and shade upon the water.
“Willows whiten, aspens quiver
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs forever
By the island in the river,”
she quoted dreamily.
“I’ve heard the ‘Tirra lirra by the river,’ but it wasn’t Sir
Lancelot,” Joanne responded; “it was the canal boatman sounding his
horn at night for the lock to be opened, but it was very weird and
romantic for all that, and I love to hear it.”
The boat continued on its slow way. At the Great Falls the girls would
fain have halted, but Mr. Dawson shook his head. “Ain’t no time to stop
if we want to get in before nightfall. Never can tell how many boats
there are ahead of us nor how long we may be held up at the locks.”
The girls huddled back to their places. “Oh, dear,” sighed Joanne, “I
did want so much to see the Falls.”
“They’re well worth seeing,” said Miss Dodge. “If they were in Europe
or in some more enterprising locality they would be advertised far and
wide and people would flock to see them. As it is half the people who
come to Washington never have heard of them. Never mind, Joanne, we’ll
take a lunch and come up on a picnic some day, then we’ll have more
time. You will want more than a glimpse.”
This pleasant prospect more than satisfied Joanne, and she gave herself
up to the enjoyment of the moment. Lunch was eaten, songs were sung,
shadows began to lengthen. It was sometimes tedious waiting at the
locks, but finally Mr. Dawson announced that they had gone through
the last. They were passing towering crags by this time, and could
hear the roar of rapids further on. Great holes in the jutting rocks
suggested the lairs of wild creatures. From the depths of the woods and
from the copses near by birds were singing. Presently a turn in the
canal brought to view the little lodge snuggled down at the foot of a
rock-strewn hill.
Joanne sprang to her feet. “There it is! There it is!” she cried, and
every girl gazed in the direction she indicated. “We go right by to the
lock,” she continued, “and will have to walk back, but it isn’t far.”
“We shall be glad of the walk,” declared Miss Dodge, “for we have been
sitting still so long.”
The girls were now all excitement which was redoubled when Joanne again
cried out: “There’s Unc’ Aaron and Pablo; they have come to meet us.”
Sure enough when the boat stopped there stood the pair with eager
hands ready to take the girls’ packs, and in spite of protests, loaded
themselves down and went on to the lodge. “We can’t have that, you
know,” said Claudia to Winnie. “We’ve got to do things for ourselves,
or we shall lose half the joy, besides missing our chances of earning
merit badges.”
Joanne looked distressed. “I know, but you see Unc’ Aaron is accustomed
to doing things for Cousin Ned and his friends when they come up, and
he won’t understand that he isn’t expected to do them for us, the more
so that he considers us young ladies who must be waited on.”
“I see. Well, we’ll put it up to Miss Dodge and let her grapple with
the situation.”
This they did and their captain promised that she would deal as
delicately with the old darkey as she could, but that her girls must
not be deprived of their experiences. They found the fires laid and
Unc’ Aaron prepared to make his famous griddle cakes for supper.
“Oh, dear,” exclaimed Claudia, “we can’t let him do that, can we, Miss
Dodge?”
“He’ll be so disappointed,” Joanne put in. “I don’t see why he can’t
make them this once. Somebody might watch him, some one who is cleverer
than I and who could write out the recipe afterward.”
Miss Dodge laughed. “For the sake of that I think we shall have to give
in this time. I wonder, by the way, how he knew we were coming.”
“I think Mr. Dawson must have told him, for he knew when he started
yesterday that he was to bring us back with him.”
“Of course; that explains it. I think I’ll go into the kitchen and take
a hand in things. Probably he will respect my authority more than that
of any of you younger ones.”
Claudia and Joanne went off to find the other girls bustling about
making ready the rooms for the night. “There’s not such an awful lot
to do,” complained Winnie. “To be sure the place isn’t so powerful
clean, but the beds are made. We’ll give the whole house a thorough
going over and leave it spick and span for Mr. Pattison.”
“It will take us nearly the whole day to do that,” said Esther Rhodes
looking around, “and we do want to be in the open as much as we can. I
am perfectly wild to explore this heavenly place.”
“Oh, no, it won’t take us a whole day,” declared Claudia; “besides we
have more than one day.”
“Not more than to-morrow,” returned Esther.
“Why, yes we have, if we choose to stay. Didn’t you hear Joanne say
that Mr. Pattison sent word we were to stay till the end of the week if
we wished? He is coming up with some friends on Saturday evening but we
shall not need to start off till Saturday morning.”
“Oh, joy, joy!” cried Esther. “No, I didn’t hear that at all. I shall
have to get word to my mother in some way, for I told her we were to be
here till Thursday.”
“That’s easy,” Joanne told her; “all you have to do is to telephone
from the lock.”
“All this and a telephone thrown in!” exclaimed Esther. “Don’t let us
waste another minute indoors, girls.”
So out they trooped to see glorious lights upon the river, to hear
birds singing all around them, to feel a soft, sweet breeze blowing
fresh from the water and to smell ravishing odors, which, though these
were now mingled with the smoke from Unc’ Aaron’s griddle, were not
vitiated in the opinion of the hungry girls.
“Do look at that precious little island up there,” cried Winnie as
she turned her eyes from nearer objects to the curving line of river
beyond. “I wonder if we could get to it.”
“Certainly,” Joanne answered. “Cousin Ned often goes there when he is
out fishing with his friends. They build a fire and cook the fish over
the coals.”
“Dear me,” sighed Winnie, “there are so many lovely things to do one
doesn’t know where to begin, and we’ll never get them all done.”
“Of course not,” returned Joanne, “not in one trip, but we mean there
shall be more than one.”
“I devoutly hope so. Me, oh me! Joanne, but I am glad you joined our
troop.”
Joanne laughed, then came the summons to supper and the girls trooped
into the dining-room to be regaled upon the famous griddle cakes and
honey.
It was only when it was too dark to see that they were ready to come
indoors after supper, then they gathered around a crackling fire in the
big stone fireplace to tell stories, sing songs and have a good time
generally till an old-fashioned clock on the mantel told them it was
bedtime.
It was perhaps an hour later that Joanne, turning on her pillow, waked
sufficiently to hear a boatman’s horn. She touched Winnie who was
sleeping peacefully by her side. “Tirra lirra by the river,” whispered
Joanne, but Winnie slept on and Joanne snuggled down again on her
pillow.