“Ugh-h! he must have felt bad then,” came softly from Sesooā.
“He did. He drew out a little money that my great-grandfather had deposited in a New York bank in his son’s name and his own, and took ship right away for England where his grandparents had come from. But he must have been restless,” meditatively; “he came back to America again, just after the Civil War, settled in the South and married quite late in life; my mother was his only child.... Always he kept the old miniature for which he had a leather case made and, oh! I’m so glad he did.” The Morning-Glory’s lip quivered again, but the moisture in her eyes sparkled. “Whenever I look at it, I feel that, whatever happens, I just must be as ‘game’ as my great-gran’daddy who was a hero, by all accounts, and saved as many lives as Captain Andy did. Perhaps he, too, sang Captain Andy’s old sea-song about ‘when perils gather round’:
“‘We sing a little and laugh a little
And work a little and play a little
And fiddle a little and foot it a little,
As bravely as we can!
As bravely as we can!’
And that’s what I’m going to do even among a storm of typewriters!”
“Yes, and you have ten whole days yet before you need think about facing that storm! And picture the fun we’re going to have in the meantime!” Sally crowed over the cheering prospect. “Think of the Grand Council Fire meeting which our Guardian is arranging, when we’re to meet and have a picnic with two other Camp Fire tribes of this region, the Granite Shore Tribe and the Twin-Light Tribe.”
“It’s the Twin-Light Tribe, who take their name from the twin lighthouses on Thatcher’s Island, who want to give a party in our honor, next week, at an hotel on the mainland and invite some of the Boy Scouts, too, from their camp on the dunes, across the river.” Jessica’s eyes shone now between her red eyelids like twin-lights waking up. “Then, indeed, we’ll all ‘foot it a little’ in the old-fashioned dances—as bravely as we can!”