A RAINY DAY AND “GOOD SPORTS”
“It’s been pouring all night and look at it now!” exclaimed Isabel
in disgust. “Goodbye our hike to Wiscasset! I had to help get the
shutters down in the night, I mean I insisted on helping, because I
was awake when the storm came up. The ground will be soaked and we
can’t have games either, can’t go out or swim or anything, I
suppose.”
“Why can’t we swim?—’cause we’d get wet?’”
Isabel laughed. “That seems to be a good one on me. Yes, thank
fortune, we can swim if it does rain, though I suppose if there were
a real big storm we wouldn’t.”
“No, because water is a great conductor of electricity. I heard
Lilian and Hilary talking about their trip and Lilian was wondering
if ‘all those dead fish’ they saw somewhere when they were on the
boat had been killed by lightning or what had killed them, and then
I remember what Father said one time, that fishes always go to the
bottom or hide away in a storm. I couldn’t be sure, though, let’s
look it up some time. We haven’t had but one thunderstorm and that
wasn’t worth mentioning.”
“It’s too cool and nice up here for thunderstorm weather, I guess.”
“This looks to me like a steady, all day pour. But they’ll have
something for us to do, or we can write or read or have fun in the
club house.”
“We can put on our ponchos and rubbers and go out when we feel like
it. I love to be out in the rain.”
“Good for you, Isabel. That’s the camp spirit. Hurrah, nice old
rainy day,—going to have lots of fun.”
“The girls can work on the prize songs for one thing. That will come
soon. I wonder who will make the best Merrymeeting song.”
“Time will tell. Of course Lilian will try her hand at it, and maybe
Cathalina.”
An indoor field meet was announced for the usual time of games and
duly the girls arrived at the dining hall, disposing of ponchos,
rain coats and rubbers as best they could. The chairs had been moved
back to leave a large space free for the play. The megaphone
announced “This is the annual indoor field meet. Prizes are to be
given to the winners in the different contests. These contests will
now begin. Will the following girls take their places up on the
floor?” Then more fun began than the girls themselves could ever
have thought up, so Isabel and Virgie concluded. For it seemed that
all the funny contests ever staged in parlors or at picnics were
presented in some amusing way. From marshmallow to hurdle races the
selections were entertaining to both contestants and audience. The
girls who were to take part had been selected beforehand by the
athletic director, that little matters like age and size might seem
appropriate to the part taken. No one refused to try the feat
demanded, and when the councillors were ordered to perform, the
merriment grew.
One easy-going, plump little camper created some amusement in the
“bean race”. “Hurry up,” called one of the older girls, “you haven’t
a single one of your beans carried over yet and everybody else has!”
“I can’t help it,” returned the little girl placidly, working away
quietly at the pile of beans on the floor, “they won’t get on my
knife.”
But patience and perserverance won. Not nervous about anything, when
the beans did “get on her knife”, she carried them without spilling
to their destined place and was the first to have her bean supply
all accounted for.
The “shot-put” was contested by girls and councillors with big
balloons, the line men soberly measuring the distances. Grins were
measured. A one hundred-yard dash proved to be walking on a string
(stretched from one point to another) with stepping off, and
watching the string and one’s footsteps through a field glass held
reversed. But the contest which aroused the most enthusiasm and the
wildest excitement was one called a relay race, in which the choice
of girls had much to do with the amusement. Four on a side, they
stood at opposite walls of the dining hall, and were numbered in
order. The plan was simple enough, merely to open a suit-case, which
was placed by Number One of each side, don the dress, hat and coat
which were found inside, open an umbrella, and walk over to the
opposite side. There the clothing would be returned to the
suit-case, the umbrella closed, the quick return made and all handed
to Number Two, who continued the performance. Dimple Dot, the quiet,
dignified Cathalina, cultured Marion, fat May and determined Virgie
were of this company. The side through first would win, hence the
mad scramble which brought tears to the eyes of the laughing girls.
Isabel, through the megaphone, gave the same order which she had
given for the other races, though perhaps not entirely appropriate
here. “Ready,—on your mark—all set—go!”
Cathalina threw dignity to the winds and was especially deft in the
whole performance. Little Dot was almost swallowed up in the
bungalow apron which did duty as dress, and presented a comical
figure as she ran across the floor, stepping on her long draperies,
lost in the big hat and coat, and swallowed up in the umbrella. “I
guess Cathalina and Marion never hurried like that in their lives
before,” she gasped, as she sank on the floor after taking off her
garb and returning it to the suit-case. She had won the race for her
side, for May was not quite through.
The line up for prizes was made a matter of much dignity, as pieces
of candy, popcorn crisps or cookies were presented to the winners.
Then the girls helped place the tables and chairs in order for the
noon meal which was almost ready.
In the afternoon there came more rain and heavier. Puddles stood in
the grass. Little streams ran down the paths and joined in larger
ones. Water poured from the dining hall roof and beat a tattoo upon
the umbrellas of the returning girls, for again entertainment was
planned with the big hall as headquarters. This time the good
old-fashioned games were used. And there were some little city girls
that had not played “drop the handkerchief”! The “farmer in the
dell” was kept going for some time. Musical chairs was played
without chairs, girls in a line crooking right and left arms
alternately to be grasped when the music stopped by the girls who
marched around them. London Bridge was called for, and the question
asked by the leaders was, “Which would you rather be, the best
swimmer in camp, or the best tennis player?” Girls in the line
passing under the bridge wondered why Frances had so many behind
her, till their turn came to hear the question. Lilian, Cathalina
and some others took their places behind Marion in favor of tennis,
but most of the girls desired to excel in swimming, and their long
line easily won in the tug of war which followed.
“O, look, girls, the sun!”
While they were absorbed in the games it had stopped raining. The
bell by the club house rang and the athletic director announced
swimming. “Into your bathing suits,” she cried, “and don’t forget to
gather up your rain coats and other things to take with you!”
“We’ll not get wet after all, Izzy,” said Virgie, teasing, as they
paddled down from their klondikes to the shore through puddles, sand
and mud. “Do you dare me to do a somersault and dive from the high
board?”
“What is the use of daring? You’ll do it anyhow if you feel like it.
I am practicing on the ‘crawl’ stroke, but it is so easy to drop
into the one you are used to using. Doesn’t Cathalina look sweet
with that pretty cape or cloak to match her suit? Here’s for the
rolling deep!”—with which Isabel threw herself from the dock into
deep water, came up to breathe and shake the water from her rosy
face, and made for the float, from which she and Virginia expected
to dive. Even the girls who had not been swimmers were growing
accustomed to the watery element, gaining both in confidence and
ability.
“The bell will ring for a boat ride at four o’clock,” was the
announcement after the whistle blew for all to come out of the
water. “Come now, everybody out! Go up and get thoroughly dry and
take sweaters for the trip.”
By the time the Aeolus had started with its happy company, a fresh
breeze and bright sun were already drying off the walks and grass.
It seemed a different world. The blue water was dancing and the tide
favorable to their ride up Merrymeeting Bay. Past “Marshmallow
Point”, past the swimming cove, past gulls posing on fishing weirs,
the Aeolus glided.
“There’s the hunters’ cabin, Hilary. See how it looks from the bay.”
“Not very far from shore, June; suppose the old pirate sank his
treasure chest with chain and anchor?”
“What if he had!”
“Six grey stones at the water’s edge,” repeated Hilary in a
sepulchral tone.
“Now Hilary, don’t laugh! Honest, don’t you think he could have done
it?”
“How should I know?”
“O, Hilary, I think you’re mean.”
“Because I don’t add my imagination to yours?”
“Look, girls,” said Rhoda as they turned to come back. “There comes
the Virginian. We’ll get her waves. Don’t you just love to go up and
down?”
“That is nothing to what we shall do in the deep sea fishing next
week,” said Marjorie. “They say we go ’way out and anchor, and bob
up and down while we pull in the monsters of the deep!”
The Virginia saluted the Aeolus with three long blasts, and Aeolus
not to be outdone in courtesy returned the salute through a long tin
horn, while the girls called “Rah, rah, Virginian!”