"Do you suppose it's money Dicky wants?"
"Money and excitement. Dicky will do a kindness to a friend and expect no pay for it just as you did when you were young, but I've no doubt that Dicky also likes the feeling of some extra coppers in his pockets. I suppose there are pockets in those extraordinary garments he wears?"
"Yes," returned Mrs. Morton mechanically. "What is behind it all?" she asked again; "are we Americans getting so thoroughly commercialized that even the babies want to go out in the street and earn money?"
"I believe it's a love of adventure as much as a love of money. At any rate we've seen it developed in three members of your own family and surely our family traditions and the traditions of the Army and Navy are all against commercialism. I believe it is one of the modern phenomena that we must bow before. Opposing it will bring unhappiness and trouble. The thing to do is to encourage such a spirit as your children are showing in this new club of theirs. Let them be commercial if they will but make them understand that their business interests must not make them less human, less friendly, less willing to serve any one who needs their service."
"It is very perplexing," sighed Mrs. Morton, but she walked away without speaking to Dicky, leaving him the centre of a throng lost in admiration of his cry, "Lecture by Mithter Griggth; addreth by Doctor Hurlbut."
Dicky's escapade was not the only one entered into by the Mortons on this memorable day. Right after dinner the whole club except Dicky who, it was decided, was not up to the long walk, went outside the grounds to pick wild flowers for the decoration of the platform of the Amphitheatre. The Director had given his consent and had expressed his pleasure, so the Hancocks and the Mortons and Dorothy set out in high spirits.
It was late in the afternoon when they returned laden with their spoils. Early goldenrod and asters filled their arms, feathery green boughs waved over their heads, and long vines of clematis trailed behind them.
The Ethels were not such good walkers as the others. Even Dorothy kept up with the big boys better than the two younger Mortons, so they found themselves quite alone some distance before they reached the trolley gate.
"Um," sighed Ethel Brown; "I'm tired. I'd like to stop right here."
"Peg along," urged Ethel Blue.