Betty and Ruth smiled at each other and nodded their heads wisely, then ran off to help Hepsy with the logs. Mrs. Vernon smiled also as she saw that each couple would soon learn that nothing is easy until one learns how to do it right. Then, when that time comes, it generally happens that one is forced to go higher to a new task. And so on, eternally, for this is progress and growth.
By the time the horn sounded for another change of work, both diggers and haulers were glad to exchange back again. Mrs. Vernon was busy about dinner, for she said such hard labor deserved hearty meals. And the girls agreed absolutely with her on that statement.
“I say! I’ll never find fault with your digging again, Betsy,” said Julie meekly, as she displayed about eighteen inches square of dug-out cellar, and a row of water-blisters on her hand.
Betty laughed at her sister, but the work continued until the cellar was dug deep enough and a mass of timbers was waiting to be used. As they stood admiring their morning’s work, Betty said:
“I think Hepsy is the best scout of all.”
“Why?” asked the other girls.
“Just see how she worked! She hauled and hauled, and never asked to exchange for an easier job. And all the time she worked she never complained once of an aching back or tired muscles. Yet I am sure she wanted to kick mightily now and then.”
A roar of laughter greeted her last words, and Betty guilelessly asked: “Now what have I said—what is the matter with you girls?”
The call to dinner quickly changed the current of their thoughts, however, and once seated about the stone table, they fell to with a will never manifested for plain cookery at home.
“We ought to be able to lay the floor logs and get the corner posts up this afternoon,” suggested Joan.