The summer was doing wonderful things for all the members of the camping party. Miss Somerville had seen a sunrise and had waxed enthusiastic over it. Susan had learned to sleep with her windows open and to realize that some of her dreams were indicative of what had happened rather than what was going to happen. Namely! a fearful dream she had had of fresh meat did not mean sure death, as the dream book said, but that she had eaten too much beefsteak the night before. Oscar had learned that there was a lot of good in po’ whites when once they began to wash. Josh, in turn, had learned the value of cold water on character as well as hide.
Lewis Somerville and his chum, Bill, had learned the power of honest toil to assuage the mental anguish they had had to contend with because of their interrupted careers. They were planning for the future instead of looking back and regretting the past. Bobby was learning more than any of the party. He had learned how to find a bee tree and where the sparrow hawk nests; he had learned how to skin up any tree he could get his arms around and how to slide down without barking his shins; he had learned how to scrooch up his toes when the path was stony and not hurt his feet walking in briars. Josh was his tutor and had even taught him when to say we uns and you allses. Josephus had learned where to go for lump sugar, and whenever Helen appeared, the old mule limped after her, putting his head on one side and singing like a canary bird; at least, that was what Nan said he did.
So even Josephus could be numbered among those who had benefited by the healthful, unselfish, out-of-door life on the mountain side. Lucy, perhaps, of all the Carter girls, had changed the least under the new influences. Her attitude toward the world in general and Helen in particular remained about the same: she was adoring and belligerent, imitative and rebellious, as variable as a weather vane in March.
The fact that Helen had been bitten by a snake was carefully kept from Lucy for fear she would go do likewise. She tried very hard to stay in bed one day with a would-be sprained ankle, but the delights of the mountains were too alluring. She hobbled out of bed before the day was over and by evening was fox trotting with Skeeter, who, by the way, had answered Frank Maury’s letter in person by return mail.
But if Lucy took the business end of the summer venture lightly, Douglas, Helen and Nan shouldered its responsibilities seriously and gloried in its success. Their enthusiasm did not wane nor did their determination falter: their father should not be burdened by debts on his home-coming.
How they clung to their purpose and how they met the remaining experiences of the summer, their friends may discover, if they will, in “The Carter Girls’ Week-End Camp.”
THE END.
