Wednesday morning the Town Hall was the scene of such excited animation that it was difficult to tell whether anything was being accomplished or not. The Cooking Club girls and the Candle Club boys together with a dozen picked helpers had assembled to decorate the hall, and for the moment there seemed an endless confusion of boys, step-ladders, hammers and cheese-cloth.
"For goodness' sake, Phil," begged Dorothy, leaving a group of girls and running over to where Phil and Arthur were talking together, "won't you and Arthur take the management of this decoration? You've done it before and you know how it ought to look."
"All right, your Majesty," responded Phil. "Come on, Art; let's agree on a general scheme, and then you can boss this side of the room and I'll take the other."
"Ruth! Ruth! you're wanted," called a half-dozen voices at once, and Ruth stopped her work to find John, Mr. Hamilton's man, waiting at the door with a good-sized box.
"It's just come by express, Miss Ruth," said John, "and 'twas labeled
Town Hall, so Mrs. Hamilton thought you'd better open it here."
"Help me open it, some one, please," begged Ruth, and as the top boards were quickly ripped off, she took out first a letter from New York in Uncle Jerry's writing.
"Dear Ruth" (it began):
"I have just stumbled on a little shop devoted to souvenirs of Switzerland. The proprietor has a bad attack of homesickness, and can't stand New York any longer, so he is selling out at a sacrifice. It occurred to me that I might kill two birds, etc., by contributing to the good cause at Glenloch and helping this poor fellow at the same time. I thought you might make a little something by selling them for any price you can get.
"I shall probably get there almost as soon as the box, so won't stop to write more.
"Yours with love, Uncle Jerry."