“Shure, ma’am, it’s onny the letter ye’es was a-lookin’ fer awl ov yistiddy. Here it be’es.” So saying, Mary handed a thick letter to her mistress.
“Oh, girls!” exclaimed the scout Captain, “it’s from Mr. Gilroy.”
Exclamations and sounds of delight came from every one present and, immediately, Mrs. Vernon was surrounded by eager girls. No time was lost in tearing open the envelope and in removing the typewritten instructions.
As the Captain unfolded the paper, she said: “How nice it is to have had this arrive while you were still present. Now we shall read the news together.”
Realizing that every scout was impatient with eagerness to hear the contents of the momentous letter, Mrs. Vernon began to read without further delay.
“My dear pals of the Rockies:
I suppose you received my telegram which was sent to prepare you for the coming of this volume. Now that I have completed it, I am sending it to you without reading it again to see that every punctuation mark is in place, and that the i’s are dotted, or the t’s crossed, knowing, as I do, that my brilliant readers will not find fault with my style no matter what errors mark its literary value. After these few words of preface, dear readers, I must unburden my soul of the weight that is oppressing it.
The weight, at present, consists of the etcetera of preparing a group of lively scouts for a desert life in New Mexico and Arizona. Such preparation includes, item: a stock of rain and dew that must last us throughout the season spent on the hot sands and in the sun-baked atmosphere of the Bad Land; also, item: tents inside which you will have to crawl to keep your eyes from star-blind; item: the Japanese parasols for day use, which must intervene between you and the dense shade thrown by the giant cactus plants which grow in jungled luxuriance on the southwestern deserts.
Thus far, I have not been able to secure the special brand of ice which is guaranteed not to melt in July and August; but I have hopes of finding enough of this necessity near Gallinas Canyon to last us for our trip of desert touring. Now, Captain, and Leader, and Corporal, dears, please read the foregoing to the timid parents in Elmertown and assure them that such dangers as I have mentioned are positively the only ones to be found in the wilderness of this isolated corner of the universe. Perhaps my description may influence one or more of the mothers to make concessions to their daughters’ own wishes to come west and try out the desert. Then, verily, would the “desert blossom as a rose,” with a bouquet of lovely blossoms as I know Dandelions to be.
But I must cease my floral flatteries and confine myself to the merely practical part of this letter. As a foreword to such material information, let me tell you, girls, that our old friend Tally has agreed to guide us throughout the entire trip; Omney signed up with an English party of tourists who are doing Colorado and Wyoming, hence he is now breaking his heart because he had not known of our summer plans in time to have shared Tally’s joys. I’m sorry for him, but glad to have Tally.