“We can’t all mend tents,” said Ruth, when the tent was carried out of the shed, and unfolded. “Suppose Miss Jean and I mend this, and the rest write home letters. I heard Archie say he had to drive to Deercroft in the morning, so that would be a good chance to send them off. Sue, you put in a post-card for Annie May, will you? I promised her we’d send one.”
“I think that Isabel ought to take our pictures with her kodak, and then we’d send them in, and have them printed on post-cards, and let them be scattered among all interested and loving friends,” said Polly.
“Oh, wait, girls, and I’ll do it,” cried Isabel. “The light is fine this morning.”
So away she went after her kodak, and the morning was spent taking snap-shots. Isabel was photographer in chief, and she was especially good on composition, and getting attractive backgrounds.
Don led Jinks out, and three of the girls mounted him, and were taken with heads up, all laughing. Then Peggie was persuaded to put on her buckskin suit and sombrero, and with a rifle in her hand she made a splendid picture of a ranch girl. Then Prometheus was led forth, and obligingly stood up and begged with his head coaxingly on one side.
“Just as if he was begging for the Bishop’s dinner, the rogue,” said Peggie.
Sally Lost Moon, after much explaining and pleading, finally came out of the cook-house, and was stationed where the buttes loomed up behind her, and everything looked unsettled and primeval, Isabel said impressively. Then just as all was set, Isabel levelled the camera, and Sally turned and ran as if a bear were at her heels.
“Shoot, shoot,” was all she would say, and shook her head vigorously. “No shoot me; no shoot me!”
“Oh, Sally, please,” begged Polly. “Look, I’ll give you my silver bracelet if you’ll let us take you.”
She drew off the bracelet from her own wrist, and Sally looked at it longingly, jingling its silver bangles happily. Finally, she put it on her wrist, and went out to try again.