The earliest flowers had been found. Trees were being listed and their leaves, coming out, noted. Even the frogs were not altogether left in peace, and the Wisconsin pools were investigated. The girls often met the Black Wizards upon their hikes, but that was to be expected, for boys always “tramp around and see things,” as Jean Gordon said. “I don’t believe there’s going to be so much crocheting and embroidering or fussing with clothes in our crowd after this, Mother,” said she.
“It is just as well,” Mrs. Gordon replied, “though you must not forget to learn the gentle art of needlework, and I should think that with your beach parties and hikes you might want to learn cooking as well.”
“I believe that’s an idea, Mother!” cried Jean. “Suppose you teach me first of all the good things to stew, ’cause we can cook things in kettles already. Maybe there is some book on outdoor cooking, or something we can read up on c—well, I think it’s a good idea anyway,” Jean finished, rather lamely. She was not ready to broach the subject of camping as yet.
At last they were ready “to-start-to-commence-to-begin,” Bess said, on the invitations. The S. P. with its interests and a few purposes was fully established. The attic was as complete as any place ever is that belongs to girls full of new ideas from time to time. Molly and Phoebe were the artists that made, or at least planned, the posters, as they called the decorative pictures that they made and placed in “strategic positions, whatever that was,” Fran giggled, as she put up a large pasteboard supported picture which expressed Phoebe’s idea of “A Black Wizard Calling Up The Spirit Of Magic.”
The Black Wizard was a tall, lank figure dressed in flowing black robes and wearing a pointed black hat. He was waving a rather wobbly stick over a smoking fire, out of which rose a spectral shape with a hideous face. A snake coiled about the fire, and another lay at the feet of the wizard.
“That’s supposed to be the smoke taking shape into the figure of magic, girls,” Phoebe explained. “That’s why you can see the tree through it.”
“Oh, you’re supposed to see through spirits, aren’t you?” Nan suggested. “It’s very good, Phoebe. You’ll make an artist yet. I don’t think that the Black Wizards will mind being put in a picture, but we can’t help it if they do. They’ve made too much fun of us. Did you see Georgie Atkins writing ‘Stuffed Pigs’ on the board the other day?”
“That disagreeable little freshman?”
“Yes. But Danny Pierce saw him and made him rub it out and took the eraser and rubbed it over his head till I know his hair was just full of chalk dust.”
“The Black Wizards aren’t so bad,” laughed Jean. “They tease us themselves, but some of the boys won’t stand for its going too far. Well, what do you think? Are there enough posters done and can we get out our invitations right off?”