Safety Rules and Kitten Tails
The door of the gray car swung open and out stepped the driver. As
Connie, her parents, and Mrs. McGuire hurried up, he was peering at the
numbers marked on the curb in front of the McGuire house.
“Aren’t you the man who carried away a little girl on her sled?” asked
Connie before he could speak.
“That’s right,” admitted the driver. Politely, he tipped his hat to
Connie’s mother and Mrs. McGuire.
“Tell me quickly,” urged Mrs. McGuire. “Has my daughter been injured?”
Just then, the rear door of the sedan swung wide. Veve, her face
streaked with tears, had been asleep on the back seat. She stumbled out
looking drowsy-eyed, but very much alive and ashamed.
“Hello, Mother,” she said. “Here I am!”
Mrs. McGuire ran down the sidewalk to clasp Veve in her arms. She was
so happy to see her that she did not say a word about all the trouble
that had been caused.
The car driver told Mr. Williams his name was Fred Clayhorn and that he
was a drug salesman.
“Hope you haven’t worried too much about this little scamp,” he said,
smiling at Veve. “I didn’t discover she had hitched her sled to my car
until I was miles out in the country.”
“A filling-station man saw me and yelled for Mr. Clayhorn to stop,”
explained Veve.
“Fortunately, I am a slow driver,” added Mr. Clayhorn. “Otherwise, I
am afraid the little girl might have been thrown from her sled and
seriously injured.”
Although Veve had not been hurt, she looked rather the worse for her
adventure. The fast sled ride had not been any fun.
Ice had slashed into her face and her snowsuit was caked with mud
and slush. She was all worn out too, from clinging so tightly to the
bouncing sled.
“Thanks for bringing me home, Mr. Clayhorn,” she told him gratefully.
“I never, never want to take another ride like that one.”
“I hope you never do,” he replied. “Next time you might not be so
lucky.”
While the grownups talked, Connie helped Veve remove her sled from
the luggage compartment of the gray sedan. One of the runners was bent
where it had struck a stone in the road.
She was showing the place to Connie when her mother called: “Come,
Veve! You must have a hot bath and climb right into bed. We’ll talk
about this escapade later!”
“That means I’ll catch it!” Veve whispered to Connie. She was so tired,
though, that she didn’t mind being put to bed.
After Mr. Clayhorn had driven away, Connie and her parents went into
their own home.
The instant they opened the door, they knew something was wrong. Heavy
black smoke filled the rooms.
“Oh, Mother!” cried Connie. “Is the house on fire?”
Mrs. Williams ran directly to the kitchen. She jerked a double-boiler
from the stove. The bottom pan was black on the inside and smoke
billowed from it in a great cloud.
“The chocolate pudding!” gasped Connie’s mother. “I went off and left
the gas turned low. All the water boiled away.”
Connie helped her open windows to clear out the smoke. After a while it
was not so heavy.
“I can’t recall ever having done such a careless thing before,” sighed
Mrs. Williams. “I guess I was so worried about Veve I didn’t think what
I was doing. The pan is ruined.”
“Was it a good one, Mother?”
“Yes, dear, but it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that Veve is
home safely.”
Now that the excitement was over, Mrs. Williams sat down by the kitchen
table and drew a deep breath. After she had rested a moment, she told
Connie how proud she was of her for not having hitched a ride on the
gray car, and also for having called help so quickly.
“Each day you are becoming more dependable,” she praised. “I do believe
your Brownie Scout training has helped.”
“I wish Veve would join the troop, Mother. Why do you suppose she makes
fun of the Brownies?”
“Veve is very young and likes to try to be different,” answered Mrs.
Williams. “Be patient, Connie. One of these days, she may ask to join
the organization.”
Now that the chocolate pudding was ruined, it was necessary to send
someone to the corner store for a cake. Connie offered to go. However,
it was dark so her father said he would make the purchase.
“And may we have ice cream too?” Connie requested.
“On a winter day like this?” her father asked in surprise.
“Oh, I could eat ice cream every day in the year,” laughed Connie. Her
blue eyes twinkled as she added: “Especially on my birthday.”
Now Connie’s birthday came on the twelfth day of December. The date was
very near, and she was a tiny bit afraid her mother and father might
forget about it. So she thought she would mention it just to be sure.
“Will I have ice cream and cake on my birthday?” she asked.
“We’ll see,” returned her mother. She smiled in a most mysterious way.
The next day, Mrs. Williams did not say anything more about the
approaching birthday. She acted as if she had entirely forgotten it.
At school, although all of the Brownies were there, Veve’s desk
remained vacant.
Connie learned from Sunny and Jane that Veve had been kept home because
she had a very severe cold.
“Serves her right,” said Jane, who had heard about the coasting mishap.
“If she had used good common sense, she wouldn’t have been carried
away on the sled!”
“Veve didn’t mean to get into trouble,” Connie defended her friend.
“She’s just careless.”
Veve’s cold kept her indoors throughout the entire week. But on
Saturday, the first day she was allowed outside, she came running over
to play with Connie.
But Connie was on her way to Jane’s house to attend the regular weekly
Brownie meeting and could not stop even to talk.
“I wish I could play with you, Veve,” she said. “You know how it is. We
aren’t supposed to be late for meetings.”
“I know how it is, all right,” grumbled Veve. “I never see you any
more--that’s what. Since you joined those stupid old Brownies, you’re
no fun at all!”
“I’m having more fun than I ever did,” Connie called over her shoulder
as she skipped off down the street.
At Jane’s house, the Brownies again were working on scrapbooks for the
hospital.
Miss Gordon, however, had varied the program with another of her
frequent “surprises.”
Captain Frank Bentley of the Rosedale Police Station had been invited
in to explain rules of safety to the Brownies.
Now, although the police officer was very much at ease when directing
traffic or guarding school crossings, he seemed rather embarrassed as
he faced the sober-eyed little girls.
He told them never to cross a street without first pausing to look
carefully in both directions. And he warned them about the danger of
dodging in behind parked cars or running when they crossed a street.
“Another thing” he added. “In case you ever witness an accident, always
notify an adult person, or call the police station.”
“That’s exactly what Connie did,” spoke up Eileen proudly. “When Veve
was carried away on her sled, she telephoned the police, and then she
went home and reported the accident to her mother.”
“Brownies are very smart little girls,” said the police officer. “This
talk probably isn’t in the least necessary.”
“Oh, but we’ve enjoyed it, and we’ve learned a lot!” declared Connie
quickly.
“We’ll all be more careful in the future, I’m sure,” added Rosemary.
“That Veve McGuire is the one who should be here,” declared Jane,
fingering the dancing elf design on her Brownie pin. “She’s worse than
anyone I know when she dashes for school. Once she was nearly struck by
a car.”
“Oh, Veve isn’t as careless as she was,” Connie said, standing up
for her friend. “Since her accident with the sled, she has been very
careful.”
“Careful!” snorted Jane. “That’s because she’s had to stay in the house
most of the time. If there’s one person in the world who should learn
something about safety, it’s Veve McGuire!”
Now Miss Gordon did not like to hear the girls discuss Veve so frankly
when the little girl was not present. But instead of scolding Jane for
being so outspoken, she changed the subject by asking:
“By the way, girls, has anyone learned if Veve plans to join our
Brownie troop in the next few weeks?”
The leader of the Rosedale troop looked directly at Connie, who was
much better acquainted with Veve than any of the other girls.
Now Connie did not wish to tell Miss Gordon all the unkind things that
Veve had said about the Brownie organization.
So she replied quite truthfully that she had not discussed the subject
with her for a long while.
“You might speak to her about it sometime,” urged the leader. “We
really want Veve.”
“Not if she keeps on saying things about the Brownies,” whispered Jane,
who always was outspoken.
Rosemary gave her a warning nudge and she became quiet.
Following Captain Bentley’s talk, the Brownies served fruit juice and
cookies. Usually they had refreshments at the end of the meeting. This
time they served early so the police officer would not need to wait.
Captain Bentley drank a cup of juice, ate three cookies and admired the
fine scrapbooks. Then he said good-bye to the girls, reminding them
again not to forget the safety rules.
“Whenever you come to a street intersection, always stop, look and
listen,” he advised as he started to leave. “That way, you’ll avoid
accidents.”
Bowing to Miss Gordon, Captain Bentley backed out the door squarely
onto the tail of Jane’s kitten, Blackie, who drowsed in the sunshine.
With a squawk, the kitten scampered through the startled officer’s
legs. His foot slipped on a patch of ice. Arms and legs flailed and
thrashed the air as he sought vainly to keep his balance.
Then, with a thud, his two hundred and ten pounds came down on the
cement porch.
Captain Bentley wasn’t hurt, only jarred. But he grinned with
embarrassment as he picked himself up. All the Brownies shouted with
laughter.
“Always remember the safety rules,” the officer chuckled. “And I might
add, they apply to kitten tails as well as street crossings!”
After the captain had gone, the girls worked hard on their scrapbooks.
They talked about the approaching Christmas holidays and what they
would do during school vacation. No one had made any special plans.
“We can’t go coasting or ice skating, that’s certain,” sighed Rosemary,
listening to the steady drip of melting snow on the roof.
Since the last Brownie meeting, the weather gradually had turned
warmer. Only a little snow and a few icicles remained to remind the
girls of the recent storm.
“I don’t even want new skates for Christmas,” declared Jane, carefully
wiping up a blob of paste which had dropped on the rug. “Just once, I
wish we could have a giant-size snowstorm here!”
“Out West where my Grandfather and Grandmother Williams live, they have
wonderful snowstorms,” Connie said wistfully. “Once they were snowed
in their house nearly a week.”
“You mean they couldn’t get out at all?” asked Sunny in awe.
“Not until a big snowplow came along and opened up the roads. They
didn’t starve though, because they had plenty of food in the house.”
“In Minnesota, where my grandparents live, the snows are very heavy
too,” said Miss Gordon. She smiled at the recollection. “Christmas at
Snow Valley--I count it as one of my happiest memories.”
“Snow Valley,” repeated Connie. “What a beautiful name!”
“Are the snows really deep?” asked Eileen.
“I’ve seen drifts so high they nearly touched the roof. And the
coasting! Out of this world!”
Miss Gordon told the girls more about the farm home of her Grandfather
and Grandmother Gordon. The living room fireplace was so large that
quarter logs were burned in it instead of chopped wood.
“I wish a flying carpet would come along and take me there right now!”
exclaimed Connie, her eyes bright.
“Perhaps I’ll return to Minnesota for the holidays,” revealed Miss
Gordon. “And that brings me to an important question. You remember the
‘surprise’ of which I spoke?”
Immediately the room buzzed with excited conversation.
Miss Gordon had to raise her hand in the Brownie sign for silence.
Connie followed suit, becoming as still as a mouse. Next Sunny raised
her hand, and last of all, Jane, who was chattering like a magpie.
When one could have heard a pin drop, Miss Gordon said:
“Girls, I’ve talked to your parents, but I can’t reveal the secret just
yet. However, I have an important question to ask. Think well before
you answer.”
“What is the question, Miss Gordon?” Sunny was squirming with
impatience.
“Merely this. How many would be willing to give up part of their school
vacation for a Brownie outing?”
“A hike?” demanded Jane.
Miss Gordon smiled and shook her head.
“A trip?” asked Connie, who was a much better guesser.
“Now don’t ask me to reveal the secret too soon,” laughed the leader
of the Brownies. “Christmas holidays are precious days. Even if your
parents were willing, would you really want to go away from Rosedale?”
“You mean for several days?” Jane asked, her breath quite taken away.
“Over Christmas?”
“It might mean being gone on Christmas Day,” Miss Gordon admitted
soberly. “So far, the plan is not definite.”
“Then if we were gone, we wouldn’t get any Christmas presents,” said
Sunny, losing her happy smile.
“That part would be taken care of, I assure you,” Miss Gordon declared.
“Naturally, I can’t expect you to say whether you would be willing to
leave Rosedale, when I haven’t told you where the troop would go.”
The Brownies looked somewhat relieved and waited anxiously for their
leader to continue.
Miss Gordon, however, realized that she had said almost too much.
“I can’t tell you any more about the plan until we meet again,” she
said. “Until then, I’ll merely ask you all to think very seriously of
the question I have raised. If the answer should be ‘yes’--well, who
knows?”