“We did a lot to help,” said Nell seriously. “And I think it was just wonderful, our singing into the broadcasting horns.”
“This five dollars,” said Jessie, soberly, “was contributed by girls who earned the money themselves for the hospital. That is why I am saving the envelope and letter. I am going to write them and congratulate them for mother, when I get time.”
“Never was such a success as that radio concert,” Amy said proudly. “I have received no public resolution of thanks for suggesting it——”
“I am not sure that you suggested it any more than the rest of us,” laughed Jessie.
“I like that!”
“I feel that I had a share in it. The Reverend says it was the most successful money-raising affair he ever had anything to do with,” laughed Nell. “And he, as a minister, has had a broad experience.” The motherless Nell Stanley, young as she was, was the very efficient head of the household in the parsonage. She always spoke affectionately of her father as “the Reverend.”
“Yes. It is a week now, and the money continues to come in,” Jessie agreed. “But now that the excitement is over——”
“We should look for more excitement,” said Amy promptly. “Excitement is the breath of Life. Peace is stagnation. The world moves, and all that. If we get into a rut we are soon ready for the Old Lady’s Home over beyond Chester.”
“I’m sure,” returned Jessie, a little hotly, “we are always doing something, Amy. We do not stagnate.”
“Sure!” scoffed her chum, in continued vigor of speech. “We go swizzing along like a snail! ‘Fast’ is the name for us—tied fast to a post. Molasses running up hill in January is about our natural pace here in Roselawn.”