“No’m! They slides along grooves and is easier to shet when a shower comes up. If you had pulleys and fittin’s like city houses they’d always be ketchin’ and out of order,” said Tim.
So the donation of two nice windows was gratefully accepted and the extra time saved was given to the door. This was a difficult thing to make as real hinges and a catch had to be fitted. Before the saddle and strike were done, the girls felt that doors were indeed an invention of the evil one to make folks want to swear. Fingers were bruised, and heads bumped as each girl declared she could do it—it was so easy!
But the door was finally hung—with Tim’s help—and then the cabin was ready for furniture. The Brownies had carried in all the packing cases saved from the freight, and Mrs. Hubert had a remnant of pantasote in the loft of the house, left from the covering of her window seats.
While the Brownies made and painted totems and crude decorations, the girls made and upholstered box-furniture, and in a week’s time, the cabin was ready for company. The visitors in this case consisted of Mrs. Hubert and Tim’s wife.
“This cabin beats the one we made on the farm all to smithereens!” exulted Zan, admiring the inside and then stepping out to compliment the Little Lodge on the floral decorations and Woodcraft tokens they had made.
“We can keep all our Woodcraft stuff in here and when one of us wants to be alone she can sit in here and read or snooze,” added Jane.
“I’ll put the box of books in here and you girls can help yourselves,” said Eleanor, generously.
“How about it—did they come?” asked Zan, curiously.
“Tim said the box was at the station and he is going to bring it in the morning,” replied Eleanor.
Miss Miller was right on the spot when the box was taken from the automobile and Eleanor brought the hammer and driver to pry off the top boards. As expected, the Guide found trashy paper novels inside and a note from Eleanor’s mother. This the girl read aloud.