Mrs. James could hardly control her face at such a ludicrous complaint, but Frances was in earnest and a laugh would end all further confidences from Frances, so she managed to say: “Don’t you think you have been as useful, if not more so, than Janet in her stock work, Natalie with the gardens, and Norma with flowers? What would we have done, Frances, were it not for your idea of running the car for us all this summer?”
“It was dad’s plan to leave it here anyway. I really am only a figure head in the matter,” grumbled Frances.
“But you have been the one always on hand to run errands and carry anyone who wanted to reach a place in a short time. Just think of the swarm, Frances. Without you that Sunday, we never would have captured that wonderful swarm from Babcock.”
Frances laughed at this memory. It was a high light in the otherwise dun colored days of her jitney life. But only dun to her after several weeks of driving about the country. Mrs. James understood, perfectly, that it was merely a case of dissatisfaction from satiation with her special work for a time being. If she had a change for a week, or so, everything would appear rosy and bright again.
“I was talking things over with Belle this morning and she agrees with me that our professions are not crowded as full of thrills as Janet’s, or Natalie’s, are. Belle says that all the worm-eaten antique furniture in New York State cannot measure up to the wonderment of seeking and finding for yourself a strange forest tree, and then classify it according to scout rules.”
“There is nothing to hinder Belle from taking a test in forestry,” murmured Mrs. James.
“She’s going to do it!” declared Frances. “But with me—I told Belle this morning, that speaking of thrills, the only real exciting drive I have had since I’ve been at Green Hill Farm was the Sunday we rode for the swarm of bees. In comparison to Janet’s thrills of hatching chicks from water-glass eggs, and Natalie’s way of killing potato bugs by killing the plants, too, my infantile thrill is weak!”
Mrs. James could no longer restrain her laughter but she apologized for it by saying: “I had to laugh at the pictures you brought up by your remarks.”
“Even the scouts of Patrol Number One have more fun in life than I get. Look at them; they cook, they build, they do all sorts of stunts in testing and winning badges for lines of work, then they hike, or swim, or drill and have other recreations, that I do not share because I am forever a car conductor!”
“Now, Frances, that is not so!” declared Mrs. James, seriously. “Patrol Number Two is hardly two weeks old and its members have had so many things to attend to that they had no time to devote exclusively to studying the scout customs and work. But once we get affairs running smoothly and orderly, we will forge ahead in our scout life, also. Patrol Number Two will cook, and build, and do all sorts of stunts, too, for tests and badges. And between times we will hike, swim, or drill, and enjoy other recreations with the scouts of Patrol Number One so that not even a car conductor will be able to complain about her dun-colored days.”