FITTING OUT The following week was filled with what Aunty Welcome called “doings and makings.” Every day found some of the girls at Glenwood, or Polly making diplomatic visits around to the various families, winning over fathers and mothers to the project. And she did not go unprepared, nor unarmed. Not Polly. Whenever Polly took up a new plan in earnest, she went at it thoroughly, and gave it a complete overhauling before she accepted it herself. Mrs. Lee was the hardest of the mothers to win over, perhaps because Isabel herself viewed Lost Island rather doubtfully. “Do you think it is quite safe, Polly?” asked Mrs. Lee for the twentieth time, as Polly sat beside her on the long, cool veranda at the Lee home. “Isabel cannot swim a stroke, and I am half afraid to trust you girls around the sea. Does the Admiral really approve?” “Yes, indeed, he does, Mrs. Lee. He says he cannot think of any better way for us girls to spend vacation after the winter at the Hall. It will mean the sea air, and bathing, and plenty of exercise. I think Isabel really needs a change. She took her mathematics quite hard this year.” Mrs. Lee smiled at the flushed, eager face bending towards her. Twenty years back, when she had been a girl like Polly, she could remember just such an eager, happy face at Glenwood, the Admiral’s only boy, Phil, Polly’s father. Even with four sisters to spoil him, he had remained the same frank, chivalrous character all his life. “Polly, you’re a splendid pleader,” she said. “I suppose I shall have to let Isabel go. Shall you go by rail or steamer?” “By steamer, grandfather says. To New York, then to Boston, and then up to Maine. We will have to take it in sections. And Aunty Welcome is going with us, and grandfather too.” “Are you certain this island is suitable for you to live on? Perhaps there is only a boathouse there.” “We’ll just have to wait and find out,” said Polly, hopefully. “Have you figured out the cost at all?” “Oh, it won’t be much over two dollars a week for each of us, Kate says. Lots of people have house parties, you know, so grandfather says this is to be my yacht club party. As soon as we get there, we will organize properly, and see what the place is like. Isn’t it comical,” went on Polly, with one of her swift characteristic swerves in the conversation, “every one of the girls, Mrs. Lee, has gone at the plan in her own way! Ruth is designing our yachting suits. What do you think they are? Dark blue duck, with middy blouses, and big white collars with blue anchors on the corners; and for best, white duck suits with dark blue collars. We’re going to take two kinds of hats with us: big, rough straw sun hats to wear on the beach, and white duck hats for yachting, with turned down brims. Isn’t that a good idea? Ruth’s aunt is a dressmaker, and offered to do all the cutting and fitting for us, and Kate can run a sewing machine, so there we are. I tell you, this commonwealth plan is a splendid one when it comes to saving money.” Mrs. Lee joined in her laughter, and asked about how much luggage they were going to carry. “No trunks at all,” answered Polly. “I think we can manage with suitcases. Two of the Seniors we know at Calvert Hall did Belgium and Holland last year with suitcases. It saves a lot of bother if you have to change cars, or boats, as we will. Ruth says she doesn’t care what she wears. She’s going to have morning classes for the rest of us, on shells, and fishes, and mermaids, and all that sort of thing, and Kate has her kodak, and we’re going to develop our own snapshots.” “Well, I suppose Isabel will have to go, but I shall add as my contribution to the outfit—life preservers and water wings—just to be sure you will be safe.” “Water wings,” thought Polly all the way home. “I wonder what those are. I’ll ask Ruth.” Sue came down to Glenwood that afternoon, and the two sat on the box couch up in Polly’s room, a “Ways and Means Committee of two,” so the Admiral said. “Do you know, Polly Page,” said Sue, with emphasis, “here we are planning to start a yacht club, and I never was even on a sail boat in all my life. Ted has been, though. She says she knows how to sail a ‘cat,’ because her brother Bob had one at Lake Quinnebaug last year, and she watched him.” Polly looked at her meditatively. “What’s a ‘cat’?” “A boat. Ted says it’s a boat built as near like a box as it can be, and it won’t sink. I guess even if it happened to turn turtle, you could climb up on the outside, and sit there till things cleared up a bit.” Polly broke into one of her quick peals of merriment. “We’d stick like postage stamps, wouldn’t we, in a good rolling sea on the outside of a boat like that. I want a thin one, Sue, one that just clips through the water. The trouble is that most girls are as afraid of the water as cats. Yes, they are. Why, even Ted is afraid! She saw her brother sail a boat, but what does she know about it herself. We girls won’t have any boys around to sail our boats for us. We’re going to learn how to manage our own craft, and it will do us good too. I had a letter from Aunt Milly again. She says there are five good sail boats up at Eagle Bay that the boys left in charge of the Captain, and they won’t need much overhauling this year because Uncle Thurlow had them all repainted and caulked last spring.” “Where do they stick the cork?” asked Sue, interestedly. “Goose, caulk the seams, I mean, put a kind of wadding or interlining between the seams in the hull. And she says if we should need any more boats, the Captain has several at his landing of the same build, and uncle left word with him to take care of us. I don’t know whether we had better sail in pairs, or each have her own boat.” “Oh, can’t I sail with you, Polly?” “You would do better with Kate, and let me have Crullers.” “She can’t sail one bit.” “No, but she’d make lovely ballast.” “Isabel says we must have club colors,” Sue exclaimed, with one of her mental somersaults. “She wants pale pink and green.” “Too much like shrimp salad,” said Polly gravely. “We want something distinctive, and yet simple, that will stand sea and sunshine. Let’s see, sea and sunshine, blue and gold. A golden sun on a field of blue for a pennant, and for club colors, blue and gold. How would that do?” “I like that,” assented Sue. “Can I make them up, Polly? Let me take care of the colors. I haven’t anything to do for the club specially as yet. Ted’s making up lists of rare shells and says she’ll bring the marshmallows.” “Marshmallows?” laughed Polly. “What are they for?” “To toast over a driftwood fire, nights on the beach. Ted says they’ll come in very handy, when we’re all gathered around telling stories. You take a long stick, put a hatpin through one end, stick a marshmallow on the end of the hatpin, and toast it. It’s just like broiled whipped cream.” “Oh, I know,” Polly leaned her chin on her palms, and spoke confidentially, “we’re going to have a dandy time, know it, Sue? Ruth has her guitar, you, Ted, and I have mandolins, and we’ll keep up a glee club. The dear old book of class songs went into my suitcase first thing. You just ought to see Aunty Welcome’s outfit. She has a medicine chest that must go even if everything else gets left behind. Arnica, and quinine, and ginger, and bandages. Oh, I don’t know what she isn’t taking along. She says she’s prepared for any emergency except the end of the world, and if that happens, she’ll just fold her hands together, and hope for the best.” “Maybe it will all come in handy. Have you thought about a swimming suit?” Polly nodded. “Gray flannel,” she replied enigmatically. “Four yards double width. Short sleeves, low neck, skirt and waist joined together, and bloomers. All trimmed up cute with wash turkey red braid. I bought a pattern, and Aunty Welcome and I made it our own selves. She says it’s too pretty to get all wet. Ruth made hers too from my pattern. Why don’t you buy the kind of flannel you want, and let her cut it out for you, and we’ll all help.” “Why not hold a sewing bee, and get everything all done up at once?” Sue’s eyes sparkled at the notion. “I’ll tell the rest, and we’ll all come over to-morrow.” “Go ahead,” agreed Polly. “I don’t care, so long as we get all through this week. It won’t be any fun finding ourselves in the middle of July, with only a month and a half for vacation.” So the following day, the entire delegation waited upon its commodore, with raw materials for bathing suits and caps. Polly turned the big upper spare chamber into a sewing-room, and with Kate at the helm, they started out in earnest. Ruth cut and fitted, under Kate’s directions, and Kate ran the sewing machine. At about four o’clock they finished, and on the bed lay the rest of the suits completed. “That’s what I call getting swift results from good intentions,” said Kate, with a sigh of relief. “Polly, can’t we have some jumbles?” “Aunty’s fixing something, but I don’t know what it is, and I wouldn’t dare disturb her till it’s all ready,” answered Polly. “Come down into the library, and let’s look at the time-tables again.” There was no one in sight, as they trooped down the broad staircase, and the library was shady and still. They pored over time-tables of steamers and connecting trains for a while, and, as Polly said, made the trip twenty times before they had started. “But we really must be serious, and look after all these points,” she added. “We’ve had fun all winter with the Hungry Six. This club has a real reason for its existence, a purpose, and we must make it worth while. It always seems to me as if girls could do so much better if they would hold hands, and work in unison—” “Co-operate,” suggested Ruth. “Yes, that’s just the right word,” Polly agreed, earnestly. “Boys always co-operate in their clubs. They seem to have the real feeling of fellowship. You know what I mean, Kate? Where all work together for the honor and glory of the whole, not just for yourself as a member.” “Fraulein called it the esprit de corps,” said Ruth. “It means the spirit of the body, or brotherliness.” “Sisterliness, too,” Polly added. “But it means more than that. It stands for trueness to one another, and pride in the honor of the club, don’t you know. You don’t do anything wrong, and you don’t let any other member do anything wrong, if you can keep them out of it, for the honor of the club. Anyway, it’s what we girls want in our club, and plenty of it. Don’t you all think so?” Six heads nodded emphatically. “I think we should draw up a set of ironclad rules, and sign them,” said Ted, solemnly. “Polly, I’ll prick my finger if you say so, and sign with real red ink.” “You’d better not make fun of this, Ted,” protested Sue. “Polly’s commodore, and you’ll find yourself blithely walking the plank, if you aren’t good.” “Indeed, she won’t,” said Polly. “I know you’ll all stand by me. If you weren’t the truest, dearest lot of girls I ever heard of, I wouldn’t go to Lost Island at all.” “Here too, Polly,” echoed Kate, with her quick smile. “Three cheers for Commodore Polly!” Ted stepped up on a chair, and waved a newspaper as the girls rose, and joined her. Just at this point the heavy portÌeres parted, and Welcome’s turbaned head appeared in the doorway. “For de mercy’s sake, ain’t you ’shamed to make sech a hullabaloo, and de Admiral entertainin’ company.” “Who is here. Aunty?” asked Polly, cautiously. “Senator Yates,” said Welcome. “He dun traveled clar down from de Capitol on purpose, and he’s talking business. Doan’t you let me hyar any sech commotion again. Shoutin’ like you all’d found a teehee’s nest. What you s’pose my mammy’d done to me if I’d made a shoutin’ noise like dat when she had company folks ’round? If I hyar any more of it, you can’t have any banana fritters and whipped cream. No, sah, not one. Sound like a pack ob geese and guiney hens, all tied in a bag.” “Oh, please, Aunty, we’ll be good.” Seven pairs of young arms clasped themselves around the tall old figure, their owners promising absolute quiet, if only the banana fritters would be forthcoming, and Welcome was holding out with dignity, when all at once the Admiral strolled along the hall from the garden, and with him was Senator Yates. “My,” whispered Crullers, as she caught sight of them. “I never saw so many titles, Polly, as you have here in Virginia. Seems as if every one of you girls has a major or a senator or a general in the family.” “So dey have,” said Welcome, proudly. “Virginia’s wah dey makes ’em, chile. I wouldn’t give two cents for a gentlemun who couldn’t wear some kind ob a uniform, ’deed I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t take any stock in his pretensions at all.” The Senator was taller than the Admiral, and smooth-shaven. He was one of the youngest men in the Senate, and was a power in the Old Dominion. Polly had seen him at Glenwood often, but to the other girls he was a stranger. “I trust we are not intruding, young ladies,” said the Admiral pleasantly, as they entered the library. “This is a business meeting, isn’t it, Polly? Senator Yates wishes to address the club on a matter of interest to you all.” The Senator’s eyes twinkled, as Polly sedately performed her duty as hostess, and presented him to the girls in turn. “I can tell you about it briefly,” he said. “The Admiral understands the details fully, and will explain them to you later. Mrs. Yates and myself are greatly interested in your summer project. We believe in outdoor sports for girls and boys, and we’d like to see our young girls as healthy and rosy as wind and sun and fresh air can make them. It happens that we are immensely fond of yachting ourselves, although ours is only a steam yacht, and we miss half the fun you will have with sailing craft. At all events, this is the reason for my errand to Glenwood to-day. Saturday we sail on a short cruise up to Nova Scotia, and around the coast to the mouth of the St. Lawrence. If you can get ready in time, and would care to be our guests as far as Lost Island, Mrs. Yates and myself would be delighted to have you and the Admiral. It is only a family party, Mrs. Yates, Marbury, and myself. As she told you on Commencement Day, Mrs. Yates was a Calvert Hall girl, not so many years ago but what she is interested in the old school still, and she feels in extending this invitation to you, that it will be a mutual effort at reviving the school spirit. What do you think of the plan, Miss Polly?” Polly’s dark eyes were a-shine with surprise and quick, radiant happiness. She almost caught her breath at the idea. “I—I think it’s just splendid, Senator Yates,” she cried. “I don’t know how we girls can ever thank you for your kindness.” “Shan’t we be too much trouble?” asked Ruth, anxiously. “Not one bit of trouble,” replied the Senator heartily. “Seven girls in all, did you say, Miss Polly?” “Yes, sir, seven in all.” “And do you think you can get ready by Saturday? Only two days more.” The girls looked at one another, a little perplexed at the brief notice, but Polly waived all doubts aside. “We will be ready,” she said, positively. “We must.” “I will send the motor boat up the river after you at seven in the morning,” continued the Senator. “The Hippocampus weighs anchor at eight. You had better make your arrangements to meet here at Glenwood, and go aboard at the Admiral’s landing. It will save time. And I am very, very glad that I am able to take back the news of your acceptance to Mrs. Yates.” When they were alone once more, Polly sank down in a Morris chair, and smiled blissfully. “Girls, have you ever seen the Hippocampus?” she asked. “It’s a steam yacht, isn’t it?” said Sue, while the rest listened eagerly. “It’s a dream afloat,” said Polly, solemnly. “All shining brass, with a white hull, and silk curtains—silk curtains at the cabin windows, children—and tufted leather walls, and—” Ted perched herself on the window-seat, and sang softly, with a comical lisp, “I saw a ship a-sailing, a-sailing on the sea, And it was filled with pretty things, for Polly and for me. There were raisins in the cabin, sugar kisses in the hold, The sails were made of silk, and the masts were made of gold.” “Goose,” exclaimed Polly, tossing a sofa pillow at the scoffer. “Wait until you see it.” “There’s one thing certain,” said Ruth, “we shall appreciate our own little flotilla all the more, when we have seen this queen of the seas. I think we should send Mrs. Yates a united vote of thanks.” “I’ll do it,” Polly declared, reaching for note paper at once. “I’ll do it now.” Aunty Welcome put her head in at the door. “Anybody hyar want banana fritters, an’ whipped cream?” The meeting was broken up instantly, and the girls followed Welcome out to the arbor where the feast was spread. But Polly lingered until she had written the note of thanks to Mrs. Yates, and when it was completed she went to find the Admiral and get his opinion. “Is that right, grandfather?” she asked, with one arm around his shoulders, as she knelt beside him at his desk. “Seems to be all shipshape,” answered the Admiral, heartily. He smoothed Polly’s head tenderly. “How is the Naval Board of Special Inquiry?” “Eating banana fritters, sir,” whispered Polly. “We’re going to sail Saturday morning sure.” |