“O, Lil-i-an!”

“Lilian’s out on the point working on a song.”

“Words and tune too?”

“I don’t know, very likely. She has her guitar with her and told us that she was not to be disturbed ‘on pain of death’. But she laughed when she said it, and if you want to see her, go and hunt her up.”

“Imagine Lil’s going off alone!”

“First she and Cathalina were working on a Merrymeeting song, then we all got at it and evolved one of a sort. O, it’s a rouser, mihi crede!” and Betty waved both hands, as if directing some Merrymeeting celebration.

“What’s ‘meehee craydeh’?” asked Virgie.

“‘Believe me’; you find it in Cicero, though he did not use it in a slangy way, of course. At least I suppose not, in his famous orations. You ought to take Latin, Virgie. It would be lots of fun now, because you would have it to Patty. Dr. Carver wouldn’t have the beginning Latin classes last year, so Patty took them. We had it to Dr. Carver, alas. Here comes Lilian now. Did you get ‘lonse’ all by yourself, Lil?”

“Yes, and the divine afflatus wouldn’t afflate. I guess it works better when you’re all round. I thought if anything would bring the Muse it would be the ashes of the camp fires and the thoughts of the Indians that used to meet there. I just had a little idea, but not of a regular Merrymeeting song.”

“Did you know that the people on some of the land here first got their deed, or whatever it was, back in 1726?”

“My, they must be old!”

“O, you know what I mean, their ancestors, of course.”

“Yes, I’ve been inquiring about all the legends and stories of this place. This used to be heavily wooded, all over the point, and they used to come down and shoot bears, right where this camp is. Dear me, when you get into New England you are where things have happened!”

“Yes, and in the West, too,” reminded loyal Virginia. “We have wild Injun stories there, too, if we haven’t any Captain Kidd.”

“That is what my verses are about, Captain Kidd, If I finish them I may hand them in, though the prize will be for some regular Merrymeeting song, in praise of Merrymeeting, you know, something that will go with yells and celebrations. At least that is what I should think would take the prize, what I would give it for if I were on the committee of councillors. But when I get something into my head I have to finish it, or try to.”

“I’ll help you, Lilian—I’ll make up all the first lines of the couplets and you make the second lines, or whatever lines have to have the rhyme.”

“Aren’t you generous, Virgie!”

“Who’s going to claim the prize if the song you all wrote together wins it?” asked Virginia.

“We haven’t thought that up yet,” replied Betty.

Not long after this conversation the songs were called for and a meeting appointed at the club house to try out the songs previous to the awards by the committee. The songs were to be sung before the assembled campers, preferably by the composer, if not, by the young councillor in charge of the proceedings. Another councillor was at the piano. This method was explained at the beginning.

“There was an unusually large number of songs handed in this year, which is very gratifying to the committee, but will make the choice more difficult. As far as possible the author of the verses, or the klondike, if part or all of the girls have learned them, will sing them here tonight. First we shall have the Laugh-a-lot songs.”

Most of these were short efforts, but raised a great deal of applause for the composers, though the term author is more appropriate, since the songs were set to popular or familiar tunes. One small author sat on a councillor’s lap and was so overcome when her pretty little song was sung that she turned her face away; and at the vociferous applause which followed, she quite hid her head on the protecting shoulder.

One of the Intermediates in Piggly-Wiggly sang all alone, in a gentle voice, two pretty verses about river, bay, island and clouds. Helen, Eloise and the rest of the girls in that senior cabin gave praise to Merrymeeting in a rousing chorus set to Yankee Doodle. Lilian, Cathalina and Betty did the singing for Squirrels’ Inn. Lilian had decided not to offer her Captain Kidd verses, declaring that there were too many active things to do at camp to bother about a “masterpiece”. Then, too, it would not turn out to be a real Merrymeeting song.

After the singing of the list, a few which were easily recognized as the best were asked for again, and the committee promised as quick a decision as possible. As it turned out, several songs were adopted as Merrymeeting songs, and several prizes were given, one to Squirrels’ Inn included.

June, Jo and Dot came around to ask Lilian what had become of the Captain Kidd song.

“Why, where did you ever hear that I was writing one?” she asked.

“I heard you and Hilary talking about it one time,” replied June.

“It isn’t much,”

“We want to hear it any way.”

“I’ll send it to the Moon and if they accept it you shall hear it read there.”

“All right. Did you hear any more facts about Captain Kidd?”

Lilian laughed. “I don’t know that I have any ‘facts’ about him, but I find that there is a story about the real Captain Kidd and the Kennebec. It is said that he used to attack boats that came to this trading center, kill off everybody but one, whom he left to help him carry the goods to his hiding place, and then kill him too. Nice old pirate! And they say that the name ‘Merrymeeting’ applied not only to the five rivers beside the Kennebec that come into Merrymeeting Bay, but to the meeting of the tribes here.”

“Then the boys’ stories were true, or at least some of them!” said June with satisfaction.

“How can you be glad that such terrible things happened,” teased Lilian.

“O, I wouldn’t have had ’em happen,” explained June carefully, “but if they did happen I want to know about it, and it would be great if we could find some treasure. Miss Patty, do you know where we could get something to dig with?”

“No, June, and remember, kiddies, that you can’t dig up the place,—it isn’t yours. And if you ever go to the hunters’ cabin, Hilary and some of the big girls must go with you.”

“O, dear, then we can’t have any fun, I suppose, and if we did find anything it wouldn’t belong to us anyway!”

“Finders keepers,” suggested Dot.

“That wouldn’t be honest, I’m afraid,” said June.

“That ethical point can be decided if you ever come across any treasure. I’m sure that you would be amply rewarded! Have fun thinking about it anyhow.”

“S’pose we’d find some big red rubies,” suggested Jo.

“And di’monds,” added Dot.

“And pearls,” said June. “Haven’t we got the imaginations though? Say, Lilian, please read us the verses!”

“O, all right, I had fun, too, writing out the story.”