The Woodcraft Girls at Camp. Roy Lillian Elizabeth

The Woodcraft Girls at Camp - Roy Lillian Elizabeth


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think – away from trolleys and rumble of trucks," added Zan, pensively.

      "That's a novelty for you!" teased Hilda, smiling.

      "I can hardly believe my eyes! It seems too good to be true – a whole summer with no one to pester you about sickness!" said Elena, with relief expressed on her face.

      Miss Miller smiled, but she wondered what the mothers would think if they but knew how glad their girls were to get away from nagging foolish worry. How much better to recognise in each girl of their age a certain amount of responsibility for themselves, and guide by example or suggestion, instead of demands or coercion.

      "Next station is Junction – change cars for all stops on the Rahway River branch!" shouted a brakeman from the platform.

      "So soon! Why, it doesn't seem like an hour and a half, does it?" exclaimed Zan.

      "Why, no! I thought we were only half way there!" replied Miss Miller, as the girls hastily gathered their baggage together.

      The party hurried off, and across the platform to a waiting local train on a side-track. The engine and coaches were old-fashioned, the windows small and set high from the floor. The girls laughed at the sight of such cars, and climbed up the high narrow steps to the platform.

      Farmers constituted the majority of the passengers and the city girls were amused at the different types presented before them.

      "Girls, let's open these windows immediately! Mercy, how can any one sit in these stuffy cars with the crevices all stopped to prevent a breath of fresh air entering!" exclaimed Miss Miller, impatiently.

      The girls laughed, for it was one of the teacher's pet theories that plenty of fresh air never injured anybody.

      The farmers looked askance, however, when the pleasant air circulated through the car and drove forth the obnoxious odours.

      Many of the travellers left the train at small way-stations and Miss Miller's party had the car all to themselves during the last few miles of the ride. Zan recognised the land-marks that showed her they were almost through with their journey, and she ordered the girls to get ready to leave the car.

      Bill Sherwood had been notified that the party would arrive at noon, and had his team and farm-wagon waiting at the station when the would-be campers jumped down and looked about in high spirits. Zan introduced each one to Bill, while the latter grinned and held his palmetto hat circling in his toil-hardened hands.

      Straw had been piled in the bottom of the wagon and the girls were lifted over the great wheel and dropped into the soft straw. Miss Miller was accorded the distinction of sitting on the high spring seat beside the driver. She held her breath in trembling and grasped the edge of the rocking seat whenever Bill turned a corner or gave way to a passing vehicle on the narrow road.

      The drive over the hills was beautiful and Bill pointed out various spots along the road and explained the value of soil, herbage, and trees.

      After seven or eight miles had been covered, the horses began ascending a steep hill well-timbered.

      "When we get to the top of this climb you will get one of the loveliest views we have about here," said Zan.

      "Yes'm," assented Bill, "and there's where you kin spy th' farm, too."

      "Then we must be almost there," ventured Miss Miller, whose seat on the loose spring board was anything but comfortable.

      "No'm, not by four mile more. The gent what ust t' own th' farm afore th' doctor got it, ust t' say, 'Bill, this air th' longes' four mile I ever hope t' travel!'" and Bill chuckled to himself as the team strained at the haul up the steep road.

      Long before the travellers reached the farm every one was stiff and glad enough to jump out of the wagon. But Bill warned them to wait yet a while longer – he had pictured to himself the grand manner in which he would sweep between the two stone posts and flourish his whip as the wagon rolled up to the front porch. To permit the girls to jump out prematurely, would spoil his pleasure.

      Having accomplished his ambition, he stood by the horses and grinned while the visitors exclaimed at everything they saw.

      "What a gem of an old house!" cried Miss Miller.

      "And that grand old oak in front – just see how far its branches sweep over the lawn!" cried Jane.

      "Look, girls! Look! The original 'old oaken bucket that hangs in the well!'" sang Hilda, as she saw Zan at the long sweep that worked the bucket.

      "It surely is lovelier than anything I ever dreamed of," sighed Elena, her artistic sense, for once, gratified.

      Groups of fruit trees, some squat and thick, some tall and slender, vied with elms, maples, oaks, and beech trees, in giving beauty and shade to the grounds about the house. Some distance back of the house stood a group of barns, sheds, and a tool-house. The grassy space between was laid out in a croquet ground and tennis courts. Directly back of the out-buildings was a fine kitchen garden and small-fruit bushes and vines. The narrow strips dividing the vegetable patches were a mass of blossoming old-fashioned perennials. The fragrance wafted from stocks, sweet-peas, petunias, pansies and other flowers, attracted bees and honey-birds of every species common in Jersey.

      "Rickon you'se ain't sorry t' git 'ere?" laughed Bill.

      "Indeed we're not! Travelling all day is as tiresome as working all day," admitted Miss Miller, taking her bag from the back of the wagon.

      "Wall, I'll be goin' on t' th' little house, but I'll be on hand ef yuh need me fur anything," said Bill, after he had deposited all the baggage on the porch of the house.

      "We're going to sleep indoors to-night and start our camp in the morning, so the only thing we might need will be some milk and butter," said Miss Miller.

      "I put two quarts o' milk an' a pound o' butter, an' a dozen o' eggs, in th' ice-chest that stan's in th' back porch," explained Bill, still hesitating.

      "Ice! Do you have ice here?" wondered Jane.

      "Shure! Th' doctor built a small ice-house th' fust year he hed th' place an' we cuts enough ice from th' pond to fill it every year. Th' pond is fine spring water, y' know, an' th' ice is clear as crystal," explained Bill.

      "That's what Wickeecheokee means, you know, – Crystal Waters. Of course, it's an Indian name that Daddy found in some old archives kept in the County Hall at the Junction," said Zan.

      "We've taken your word for Crystal Waters but I haven't seen a drop of it so far except what was drawn from the well," laughed Miss Miller.

      "Plenty of it when th' Spring freshets come down Old Baldy," chuckled Bill, climbing up to the wagon seat.

      "Going home, Bill?" asked Zan, as the farmer gathered up the reins. "Well, thanks, ever so much, for coming for us, and remember me to your wife. Tell her we'll be over there soon," said Zan.

      "Oh, that reminds me, Bill, I brought a little present for you and the wife – wait a moment until I open my bag!" exclaimed Miss Miller, going to the porch and taking two packages therefrom.

      "Mighty much obliged, ma'am!" said Bill, doffing his wide-brimmed hat, obsequiously.

      As soon as the girls were alone Zan unlocked the front door of the house and ushered her companions inside a long living-room. A chimney-piece embraced seven feet of space just opposite the door and the wide cavern of brick fire-place presented a cheery picture to one who could imagine its blaze and crackle of hickory logs while sparks, and tongues of flame, leaped up the chimney on a frosty night!

      The girls examined books and pictures while Miss Miller went into raptures over the old mahogany settee, the tilting table, real Sheraton bookcase and chairs, and a Boston rocker. She tried each in turn, then spied a grand-father's clock in the corner, and marvelled at the old wooden works which were strung with cat-gut.

      Zan laughed at the different expressions of surprise on her guests' faces, and when the teacher drew forth an inlaid sewing-table, exclaiming at the beauty of the lines, she explained: "Muzzer loves to ride about the country collecting old furniture. Dad made all manner of fun at first, but he, too, caught the germ, and now he will go for miles when he hears of some old family


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