"They wanted me to learn that, too; hand on your heart business for the men, and prance around like an ostrich in a zoo trying to look over the fence! I told them learning the Indian War Dance was all I was equal to."
"It's more in your style," commented Helen drily.
"It seems a good opportunity to learn both. You and Helen might get up a minuet when your club has some sort of party next winter," suggested Mrs. Morton.
"That's so," agreed Helen; "and Margaret and James are both going to learn it, and it will be a lot easier to drill the new ones if four of us know it already."
"All right," Roger accepted the proposal promptly. "I'll tell them after dinner that they can order one of those white monkey wigs for me, too."
"You won't look any sillier than you will as a red Indian," urged Helen.
"Roger would like to have us think that he'd rather appear as a child of nature than a child of art," smiled his grandmother.
"So I would," insisted Roger; "but the main thing is to do what will help most, like a true member of the United Service Club in good and regular standing."
Ethel Blue applauded.
"That suits you, does it, kid?" and Roger grinned cheerfully at the club's founder. "Are all of you going to rehearse this afternoon? They say that when you run up into a bunch of people anywhere on the grounds for the next week it will be a squad of pageant performers rehearsing something."