"I have been thinking and thinking," said Rosanna, "and not an idea have
I had until just now. Here is what I just thought up.
"You know Uncle Bob was telling me about benefit performances that
actors and musicians have. I think they get them up themselves mostly,
when they want some money, but I was talking to Minnie about it
yesterday when she came in for a minute and she says in her church they
have benefits all the time. People sing and play and recite poetry, and
it is lovely. And I thought up something better still.
"What if you and I, Helen, could make up a sort of play all about the
Girl Scouts and give it?"
"Write it out of our heads?" said Helen, quite aghast.
"Yes," said Rosanna. "It is easy. Before grandmother used to let me have
little girls to play with, I used to make up plays, oh lots of times!"
"With conversations?" pressed Helen.
"Yes, made up of conversations and coming on the stage and going off
again, and people dying, and everything."
"Dear me!" said Helen with the air of one who never suspected such a
thing of a friend. "_Dear me!_" she said again. "I am sure I could
_never_ do it. You will have to do it yourself. What is it going to be
about?"
"Why, I have to have time to think," said Rosanna. "You have to think a
long time when you are going to be an author. It is very difficult."
"You don't suppose you are all out of practice, do you?" asked Helen
anxiously. "Why, Rosanna, that would be too perfectly splendid! A real
play! Where could we give it? We couldn't rent a real theatre."
"Oh, my, no!" said Rosanna, beginning to be rather frightened at the
picture Helen was conjuring up. "We won't have that sort of a play. We
will have a little one that we can give in grandmother's parlor, or over
at Mrs. Hargrave's."
"I wouldn't," said Helen stoutly. "I just know you can write a beautiful
play, Rosanna, and I think we ought to give it in some big place where a
lot of people can come, and we will have tickets, and chairs all in rows
and a curtain and everything."
"Oh, I don't believe I could write a good enough play for all that,"
cried Rosanna.
"Well, just do the best you can and I know it will be perfectly lovely."
"I tell you what," said Rosanna, beginning to be sorry that she had
spoken. "Please don't tell Elise or anyone about it until I see what I
can write, and then after you and I have read it, if it is good enough,
we will show it to Uncle Robert and see what he says."
"It _will_ be good enough," said Helen positively. "Just think of the
piece of poetry you wrote to read at the Girl Scout meeting. It was so
lovely that I 'most cried. All that part about the new moon, and how you
felt when you died. It sounded so true, and yet I don't see how you know
how you are going to feel when you die. I can't feel it at all. I
suppose that is because you are a poet. Mother says it is a great and
beautiful thing to be a poet, but that you must look out for your
digestion."
"My digestion is all right so far," said Rosanna. "I am glad to know
that, though, because if your mother says so, it must be so."
"Of course!" said Helen proudly. "When will you begin your play,
Rosanna?"
"Right away after dinner," said Rosanna. "That is, if Uncle Robert goes
out. If he stays at home I will have to play cribbage with him. If I go
off to my own room, he comes right up. He says he is afraid that I will
get to nursing a secret sorrow."
"What is a secret sorrow?" asked Helen.
"I don't know exactly," said Rosanna. "Uncle Robert looked sort of funny
when I asked him, and perhaps he made it up because he just said,
'Why--er, why--er, a secret sorrow is--don't you know what it is,
Rosanna?'"
"Sometimes I wonder if your Uncle Robert really means all he says," said
Helen suspiciously.
"I wonder too," agreed Rosanna, nodding, "but he is a perfect dear,
anyway, even if he is old. He is twenty-four, and grandmother is always
saying that Robert is old enough to know better."
"I know he will be all sorts of help about our play, anyway," said
Helen.
"I know he will too," said Rosanna. "We will show him the play the
minute I finish it."
Rosanna went right to work on her play whenever she had any time to
spare.
When Saturday morning came she went with Doctor MacLaren to see Gwenny,
and after she had introduced him to Gwenny's mother she went and sat in
the automobile with Mary and Luella and Myron and Baby Christopher to
talk to. But she scarcely knew what she was saying because she was so
busy wondering what the doctor would do to poor Gwenny, whose back
nearly killed her if anyone so much as touched it.
The doctor stayed a long, long time, and when he came out he stood and
talked and talked with Gwenny's mother. He smiled his kind, grave smile
at her very often, but when he turned away and came down the little walk
Rosanna fancied that he looked graver than usual.
"Is she _very_ bad?" Rosanna asked when the machine was started.
"Pretty bad, Rosanna dear," said the doctor. "She will need a very
serious operation that cannot be done here. She will have to go to a
hospital in Cincinnati where there is a wonderful surgeon, Doctor
Branshaw, who specializes in troubles of the spine. He will help her if
anyone can. She is in a poor condition anyway, and we will have to look
after her pretty sharply to get her in as good a shape physically as we
can. If she goes, I will take her myself, and will have her given the
best care she can have. What a dear, patient, sweet little girl she is."
"Yes, she is!" agreed Rosanna absently. "Well, if she is as sick as you
think, I don't see but what we will just _have_ to earn the money some
way or other!" Rosanna was very silent all the way home, and that
afternoon she retired to the rose arbor and worked as hard as ever she
could on the play. It was really taking shape. Rosanna would not show
the paper to Helen or to Elise, who had been told the great secret. She
wanted to finish it and surprise them.
By four o'clock she was so tired that she could write no longer. She put
her tablet away and started to the telephone to call Helen. As she went
down the hall the door bell rang. She could see a familiar figure
dancing up and down outside the glass door. It was Elise, apparently in
a great state of excitement. Rosanna ran and opened the door.
Elise danced in. She caught Rosanna around the waist and whirled her
round and round.
"Behold I have arrive, I have arrive!" she sang.
"Of course you have arrived!" said Rosanna. "What makes you feel like
this about it?"
"Behold!" said Elise again with a sweeping gesture toward the front
door.
Mrs. Hargrave's house-boy, grinning from ear to ear, was coming slowly
up the steps bearing a large covered tray. Elise took it from him with
the greatest care and set it carefully on a table.
"Approach!" she commanded, and Rosanna, really curious, drew near the
mysterious article. Slowly Elise drew off the cover. Under it in all the
glory of a golden brown crust, little crinkles all about the edge, sat a
pie looking not only good enough to eat, but almost _too_ good.
"Peench off a tiny, tiny bit of ze frill," said Elise, pointing to the
scallopy edge. "A very tiny peench, and you will see how good. Now I can
be the Girl Scout because all the other things I can so well do."
Rosanna took a careful pinch and found the crust light and very flaky
and dry.
"Perfectly delicious, Elise!" she pronounced it. "Did you do it all
yourself?"
"Of a certainty!" said Elise proudly. "I would not do the which
otherwise than as it is so required by the Girl Scouts. And now I am
most proud. If you will so kindly take me when you go to the meeting
this afternoon, I will offer this to the most adorable little Captain as
one more reason the why I should be allowed to join."
"Of course I will take you," said Rosanna. "I was just going to
telephone for Helen. If she is ready we will start at once."
"I will go for my hat," said Elise. Then anxiously, "Will the beautiful
pie rest here in safety?"
"Yes, indeed; it will be perfectly safe," laughed Rosanna.
Elise was the happiest little girl in all the room at the meeting.
Everyone fell in love with her at once, her manners were so gentle and
pretty and she was so full of life. Her curls danced and her eyes, and
her red lips smiled, and it seemed as though her feet wanted to dance
instead of going in a humdrum walk. The Scout Captain and the committee
on pie decided that Elise had made the most delicious of its kind.
At the close of the business part of the meeting, the Captain asked as
usual if anyone had any news of interest to offer or any requests or
questions to ask. It was all Rosanna could do to keep from telling them
all about Gwenny and asking for advice and help, but she decided to keep
it all to herself until she had finished the play. Then if it turned out
to be any good (and it would be easy to tell that by showing it to Uncle
Bob) she would take it to the Captain, and if she approved, Rosanna
would bring the whole thing up before the next meeting.
On the way home, Helen said to Rosanna, "How are you getting on with
your play, Rosanna? Did you work on it this afternoon as you expected
to?"
"Yes, I did, and it seems to be coming along beautifully," said Rosanna.
"I wanted to ask you about it. Don't you think it would be nice to put
in a couple of songs about the Girl Scouts, and perhaps a dance?"
"Simply splendid!" said Helen. "Oh, Rosanna, _do_ hurry! I can scarcely
wait for you to finish it. Girl Scout songs and a Girl Scout dance! Do
you know the Webster twins can dance beautifully? Their mother used to
be a dancer on the stage before she married their father, and she has
taught them the prettiest dances. They do them together. They are
awfully poor, and I don't know if they could afford to get pretty
dancing dresses to wear, but I should think we could manage somehow."
"Oh, we will," said Rosanna. "I _do_ wish we could have our families
help us!"
"Think how surprised they will be if we do this all by ourselves except
what Uncle Bob does, and our Scout Captain."
"I don't see that Uncle Bob can do very much," rejoined Rosanna. "But he
is real interested and wants to help."
"We ought to let him do whatever he can," said Helen. "Father often
tells mother that he hopes she notices how much she depends on his
superior intellect, but she just laughs and says 'Nonsense! Helen, don't
listen to that man at all!' But we must depend on our own superior
intellects now."
"It won't take me long to finish the play," said Rosanna. "It is only
going to be a one-act play, and if it isn't long enough to make a whole
entertainment, we will have to have some recitations and songs before
and after it."
"I do think you might let me see what you have written," coaxed Helen.
"I would rather not," pleaded Rosanna. "Somehow I feel as though I
couldn't finish it if I should show it to anyone before it is done. I
will show it to you the very first one, Helen. Here is one thing you can
hear."
She took a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket, and while Helen
walked very close beside her commenced: "This is a song sung by two
sisters named Elsie and Allis. And you will see what it is all about."
"Is there a tune for it too?" said Helen in great wonder.
"No, I can't make up music," said Rosanna regretfully, "and, anyhow, I
think it would come easier to use a tune everybody knows. This goes to
the tune of _Reuben, Reuben, I've been Thinking_. You know that?"
"Of course," said Helen. "Now let's hear the poetry."
Rosanna had written:
"Two girls come on the stage, one from the right and one from the left.
One is dressed in beautiful clothes, and the other very neat and clean,
but in awfully poor things. She has on a thin shawl. She is Elsie. The
rich child is Allis. Allis sees Elsie, and sings:
SONG
Air, _Reuben, Reuben, I've Been Thinking_.
_Allis._
Elsie, Elsie, I've been thinking
What a pleasure it would be,
If we had some friends or sisters
Just to play with you and me.
All our time we spend in study
There is no place nice to go.
After school an hour of practice
Oh, I get to hate it so!
_Chorus_
Just an hour or two of practice,
One and two and three and four;
Add, subtract, or find the tangent;
Everything is just a bore!
_Elsie._
Then, dear Allis, when we finish,
We can go and take a walk;
That, unless the day is rainy,
Then we just sit down and talk.
And there's not a thing to talk of,
Not a scheme or plan to make,
Not a deed of gentle loving,
Nothing done for Someone's sake.
_Chorus_
Not a thing for us to aim for--
Not a height for us to climb!
Just the stupid task of living;
Just the bore of passing time!
_Enter Girl Scout with many Merit Badges on her sleeve._
_Girl Scout._
Did I hear you wish for friendships?
Mates to join in work and play?
Someone true and good and loving
You would chum with every day?
See this uniform? It tells you
You can wear it; be a Scout!
See the sleeve with all the "Merits"?
You could win without a doubt.
_Chorus_
_All--_
Oh, what fun we'll have together!
Oh, what work and jolly play!
Walks and talks and happy study
With the Girl Scouts every day.