Migwan declared that she had had nothing to do with it; it was the Luck of the Winnebagos that had given her the inspiration. But Calvin knew well that in this case the Luck of the Winnebagos was only Migwan’s own thoughtfulness.
CHAPTER XIV.—GOOD-BYE TO ONOWAY HOUSE.
By the first of September Migwan had made enough money from the sale of canned tomatoes to more than pay her way through college the first year. “It’s Mother Nature who has been my fairy godmother,” she said to the girls. “I asked her for the money to go to college and she put her hand deep into her earth pocket and brought it out for me. It’s like the magic gardens in the fairy tales where the money grew on the bushes.”
“What a summer this has been, to be sure,” said Hinpoha, who was in a reflective mood. They were all sitting in the orchard, busy with various sorts of handwork. The day was hot and drowsy and the shade of the trees most inviting. “Migwan and I thought we would have such a quiet time together, just we two. She was going to write a book and I was going to illustrate it, when we weren’t working in the garden. And how differently it all turned out! One by one you other girls came—I’ll never forget how funny Gladys and Nyoda looked when they came out that night, and how surprised Sahwah was to find you here when she arrived. Then Gladys brought Ophelia, I mean Beatrice, and after that we never had a quiet moment. Then the mystery began and kept up all summer. Instead of these three months being a quiet rest they’ve been the most thrilling time of my life.”
“It seems to have agreed with you, though,” said Sahwah, mischievously, whereupon there was a general laugh, for Hinpoha, instead of growing thin with all the worry and excitement, had actually gained five pounds.
“As much worry as it caused me,” said Migwan, “I’m glad everything happened as it did. The summer I had looked forward to would have been horribly dull and uninteresting, but now I feel that I’ve had some real experiences. I’ve got enough ideas for stories to last for years to come.”
“And for moving picture plays,” said Hinpoha. “But,” she added, “if you go in for that sort of thing seriously, where am I coming in? You know we made a compact; I was to illustrate everything you wrote, and how am I going to illustrate moving picture plays?”
There was a ripple of amusement at her perplexity. “You’ll have to illustrate them by acting them out,” said Gladys. They all agreed Hinpoha would make a hit as a motion picture actress, all but Sahwah, who dropped her eyes to her lap when Migwan began to talk about moving pictures, and presently went into the house to fetch something she needed for her work. When she came out again the subject had been changed and was no longer embarrassing to her.
“What will the Bartletts say when they hear the peach crop was ruined by the wind storm?” asked Hinpoha.
“That’s the only thing about our summer experience that I really regret,” answered Migwan. “I wrote and told them about it, of course, when I told them about the gas well, and Mrs. Bartlett said we shouldn’t worry about it and that we ourselves were a crop of peaches.”