"THE JOLLY SANDBOY"
The Sand Club was not very strict in its methods or systems. Some days
it met, and some days it didn't. Sometimes all the court was present,
and sometimes only three or four of them.
But everything went on harmoniously, and there were no exhibitions of
ill temper from the Sand Witch.
In fact, Hester was absorbed in doing her part toward the first number
of _The Jolly Sandboy_.
The child was quite an adept at drawing and painting, and she was making
several illustrations for their court journal. One, representing
Marjorie seated on her sand throne, was really clever, and there were
other smaller pictures, too.
Kingdon worked earnestly to get the paper into shape. He had
contributions from all the club, and from Mr. and Mrs. Maynard also. He
had a small typewriter of his own, and he laboriously copied the
contributions on fair, white pages, and, with Hester's pictures
interspersed, bound them all into a neat cover of red paper.
This Hester ornamented with a yellow sand-pail, emblem of their club,
and tied it at the top with a yellow ribbon. Altogether, the first
number of _The Jolly Sandboy_ was a strikingly beautiful affair.
And the court convened, in full court dress, to hear it read.
The court wardrobes had received various additions. Often a courtier
blossomed out in some new regalia, always of red or yellow, or both.
The several mothers of the court frequently donated old ribbons,
feathers, or flowers, from discarded millinery or other finery, and all
these were utilized by the frippery loving courtiers.
Hester had contrived a witch costume, which was greatly admired. A red
skirt, a yellow shawl folded cornerwise, and a very tall peaked hat of
black with red and yellow ribbons, made the child look like some weird
creature.
Marjorie's tastes ran rather to magnificent attire, and she accumulated
waving plumes, artificial flowers, and floating gauze veils and
draperies.
The boys wore nondescript costumes, in which red jerseys and yellow
sashes played a prominent part, while King achieved the dignity of a
mantle, picturesquely slung from one shoulder. Many badges and orders
adorned their breasts, and lances and spears, wound with gilt paper,
added to the courtly effect.
"My dearly beloved Court," Marjorie began, beaming graciously from her
flower decked throne, "we are gathered together here to-day to listen to
the reading of our Court Journal,--a noble paper,--published by our
noble courtier, the Sand Piper, who will now read it to us."
"Hear! Hear!" cried all the courtiers.
"Most liege Majesty," began King, bowing so low that his shoulder cape
fell off. But he hastily swung it back into place and went on. "Also,
most liege lady-in-waiting, our noble Sand Witch, we greet thee. And we
greet our Grand Sandjandrum, and our noble Sandow, and our beloved Sand
Crab. We greet all, and everybody. Did I leave anybody out of this
greeting?"
"No! No!"
"All right; then I'll fire away. The first article in this paper is an
editorial,--I wrote it myself because I am editor-in-chief. You're all
editors, you know, but I'm the head editor."
"Why not say headitor?" suggested Tom.
"Good idea, friend Courtier! I'm the headitor, then. And this is my
headitorial. Here goes! 'Courtiers and Citizens: This journal, called
_The Jolly Sandboy_, shall relate from time to time the doings of our
noble court. It shall tell of the doughty deeds of our brave knights,
and relate the gay doings of our fair ladies. It shall mention news of
interest, if any, concerning the inhabitants of Seacote in general, and
the families of this court in particular. Our politics are not confined
to any especial party, but our platform is to grow up to be presidents
ourselves.' This ends my headitorial."
Great applause followed this masterpiece of journalistic literature, and
the Sand Piper proceeded:
"I will next read the column of news, notes, and social events, as
collected by our energetic and capable young reporter, the Sand Crab:
* * * * *
"'The Queen and her lady-in-waiting went bathing in the ocean this
morning. Our noble Queen was costumed in white, trimmed with blue, and
the Sand Witch in dark blue trimmed with red. Both noble ladies squealed
when a large breaker knocked them over. The whole court rushed to their
rescue, and no permanent damage resulted.
"Three gentlemen courtiers of this court, who reside in the same castle,
had ice-cream for dinner last night. The colors were pink and white. It
was exceeding good.
"A very young princess, a sister of our beloved Queen, went walking
yesterday afternoon with her maid of honor. The princess wore a big
white hat with funny ribbon bunches on it. Also white shoes.
"Mr. Sears has had his back fence painted. (We don't know any Mr. Sears,
and he hasn't any back fence, but we are making up now, as our real news
has given out and our column isn't full.)
"Mrs. Black spent Sunday with her mother-in-law, Mrs. Green. (See
above.)
"Mr. Van Winkle is building a gray stone mansion of forty rooms on
Seashore Drive. We think it is quite a pretty house.
"This is all the news I can find for this time. Yours truly.--THE
SAND CRAB.'"
* * * * *
"Noble Sand Crab, we thank you for your fine contribution to our midst,"
announced the Queen, and the Sand Crab burrowed in the sand and kicked
in sheer delight at such praise.
"The next," announced the Sand Piper, "is an original poem by our most
liege majesty, the Queen. It's pretty fine, I think.
"Most noble Court, I greet you now,
From Grand Sandjandrum to small Sandow.
From old Sand Piper, and gay Sand Witch,
To Sand Crab, with hair as black as pitch.
I hope our Court will ever be
Renowned for its fun and harmony.
And as I gaze on this gorgeous scene,
I'm glad I am your beloved Queen."
"Jinks! that's gay!" exclaimed Tom. "How do you ever do it, Marjorie? I
did a poem, but it doesn't run nice and slick like yours."
"I'll read it next," said King. "I think it's pretty good.
"I love the people named _Maynard_,
I like to play in their back yard.
We have a jolly Sand Court,
Which makes the time fly very short.
Except going in the ocean bathing,
There's nothing I like so much for a plaything."
"That's very nice, Tom," said Marjorie, forgetting her rôle.
"No, it isn't. It seems as if it ought to be right, and then somehow it
isn't. Bathing and plaything are 'most alike, and yet they sound awful
different."
"That's so. Well, anyway, it's plenty good enough, and it's all true,
Tom."
"Yes, it's all true."
"Then it must be right, 'cause there's a quotation or something that
says truth is beauty. We wouldn't want all our poems to be just alike,
you know."
"No, I s'pose not," and Tom felt greatly encouraged by Marjorie's kind
criticism.
"Next," said King, "is our Puzzle Department. It's sort of queer, but
it's Sandow's contribution, and he said to put it in, and he'd explain
about it. So here it is.
* * * * *
"'SANDY PRIZE PUZZLE. Prize, a musical top, donated by the
author. Question: Is the number of sands on the seashore odd or even?
Anybody in this court who can answer this question truthfully will
receive the prize. Signed, SANDOW.'"
* * * * *
"That's nonsense," cried Hester. "How can anybody tell whether we answer
truthfully or not?"
"I can tell," said Sandow, gravely. "Whoever first answers it truthfully
will get the prize."
"But it's ridiculous," said King. "In the first place, how much seashore
do you mean? Only that here at Seacote, or all the Atlantic shore? Or
all the world?"
Dick considered. "I mean all the seashore in all the world," he said, at
last.
"Then that's silly, too," said Tom, "for how far does the seashore go?
Just to the edge of the ocean, or all the way under?"
"All the way under," replied Dick, solemnly.
"Then you really mean all the sand in all the world!"
"Yes; that's it. Of course, all the sand in all the world numbers a
certain number of grains. Now, is that number odd or even?"
"You're crazy, Dick!" said Hester, but Marjorie said, "No, he isn't
crazy; I think there's a principle there somewhere, but I can't work it
out."
"I guess you can't!" said King. "I give it up."
"So do I!" declared Tom, and at last they all gave it up.
"Now you must answer it yourself, Dick," said King.
"Then nobody gets the prize," objected Sandow.
"No, you keep it yourself. Have you got one, anyhow?"
"Yes, a nice musical top Uncle John sent to me. I've never used it much,
it's as good as new. I _wish_ somebody would guess."
Nobody did, and Dick sighed.
"Bet you can't answer your old puzzle, yourself," said Hester.
"Yes, I can," averred Dick, "but you must ask it to me."
"All right," said King. "Mr. Sandow, honorable and noble courtier of
Sand Court, is the number of sea sands odd or even? Answer truthfully
now."
"I don't know," replied Dick, "and that's the truth!"
How they all laughed! It was a quibble, of course, but the Maynard
children were surprised at themselves that they hadn't seen through the
catch.
Dick sat on the sand, rocking back and forth with laughter.
"The witch ought to have guessed it," he cried; "or else the Queen ought
to."
"Yes, my courtier, we ought," Marjorie admitted. "You caught us fairly,
and we hereby give you the post of wizard of this court. Sand Piper,
what's next in your journal?"
"The next is a poem by the Honorable Edward Maynard. That is, he wrote
part of it, and then, as he had to go to New York on business, his
honorable wife finished it. Here it is:
"Royal Courtiers, great and grand,
Ruling o'er your court of sand,
Take this greeting from the pen
Of an humble citizen.
May you, each one, learn to be
Filled with true nobility;
Gentle, loving, brave, and kind,
Strong of arm and pure of mind.
May you have a lot of fun,
And look back, when day is done,
O'er long hours of merry play
Filled with laughter blithe and gay.
May your court of mimic rule
Teach you lore not learned in school;
Rule your heart to think no ill,
Rule your temper and your will."
"Gee, that's real poetry, that is!" exclaimed Tom. "Say, your people are
poets, aren't they?"
"Why, I think they are," said Marjorie, "but Father says they're not."
"I'd like a copy of that poem," said Hester, looking very serious.
"All right," said King, catching the witch's glance. "I'll make you a
nice typewritten copy of it to-morrow."
"And now, my royal Sand Piper, is there any more poetic lore for us to
listen to?"
"Aye, my liege Queen, there is one more poem. This is a real poem also,
but it is of the humorous variety. It was composed by the mother of our
royal Sand Witch, and was freely contributed to our paper by that
estimable lady. Methinks she mistook our club for a debating club, and
yet, perhaps not. This may be merely a flight of fancy, such as poets
are very fond of, I am told. I will now read Mrs. Corey's contribution:
"There once was a Debating Club, exceeding wise and great;
On grave and abstruse questions it would eagerly debate.
Its members said: 'We are so wise, ourselves we'll herewith dub
The Great Aristophelean Pythagoristic Club.'
And every night these bigwigs met, and strove with utmost pains
To solve recondite problems that would baffle lesser brains.
They argued and debated till the hours were small and wee;
And weren't much discouraged if they didn't then agree.
They said their say, and went their way, these cheerful,
pleasant men,
And then came round next evening, and said it all again.
Well, possibly, you'll be surprised; but all the winter through
The questions they debated on numbered exactly two.
For as they said: 'Of course we can't take up another one,
Till we have solved conclusively the two that we've begun.'
They reasoned and they argued, as the evenings wore along;
And each one thought that he was right, and deemed the others wrong.
They wrangled and contended, they disputed and discussed,
They retorted and rebutted, they refuted and they fussed;
But though their wisdom was profound, and erudite their speech,
A definite conclusion those men could never reach.
And so the club disbanded, and they read their last report,
Which told the whole sad story, though it was exceeding short:
'Resolved--We are not able to solve these problems two:
"Does Polly want a cracker?" and "What did Katy do?"'"
"Well, isn't that fine!" cried Marjorie. "Why, Hester, your mother is
more a poet than ours."
"She does write lovely poetry," said Hester, "but I like your mother's
poem, too, because it,--well, you know what I mean."
Somehow the children all understood that tempestuous Hester appreciated
the lines that so gently advised the ruling and subduing of an unruly
temper and will, but nobody knew just how to express it.
So King broke a somewhat awkward silence by saying, heartily, "Yep, we
know!" and all the others said "Yep" in chorus.
"I think, O Royal Court," the Queen began, "that our first paper is
fine. How often shall we issue _The Jolly Sandboy_?"
"'Bout once a week, I think," said Tom.
"All right," agreed King; "and you fellows get your stuff in a little
earlier next week so's I can typewrite it in time."
"And now, my beloved court," resumed Midget, "I think we have sat still
long enough, and I decree that we have a game of Prisoner's Base. And
what I say goes!"
There was no dissenting voice. The Queen unpinned her court train from
her shoulders, the Sand Witch laid aside her tall, peaked hat, and the
courtiers discarded such details of their costumes as seemed likely to
impede progress in the game. Prisoner's Base was followed by Hide and
Seek, and then it was time for the court to repair to its several homes.
"It's all so lovely, Marjorie," said Hester. "I'm _so_ glad you let me
play with you."
"That's all right, Hester, as long as you don't smash things or make
faces at us."
"Oh, I never will again; truly, Marjorie. I'm going to learn that poem
of your mother's by heart, and I _know_ I'll never lose my temper again,
Good-bye."
"Good-bye, Hester," and after an affectionate kiss the two girls parted.
"Goo'-bye, Queenie Sandy," called Tom, as they separated at the turn of
the path.
"Good-bye, Tom, you old Grand Sandjandrum!" and then the Maynards ran
into their own house.
"Gently, my lad and lassie; gently!" warned Mrs. Maynard, as her two
young hopefuls flung themselves upon her.
"Oh, Mothery," cried Marjorie, "we had _such_ a good time! And our court
journal was lovely! Want to see it? And King fixed it up so beautifully,
and Hester made such _dear_ pictures for it! Oh, Mother, isn't it
splendid to have so much fun?"
"Yes, dearie," and Mrs. Maynard stroked the flushed brow of her
energetic and excitable daughter. "But when you come in from your play,
you must be a little bit quieter and more ladylike. I don't want to
think that these merry companions of yours are making you really
boisterous."
"They are, though," said King. "I like the Craigs and Hester Corey, but
they sure are the noisy bunch!"
"Oh, King, not _quite_ so much slang!"
"No, Mother, we won't get gay! We'll try to please you every way! But
we're feeling rather spry to-day! So please excuse us, Mothery May!"