CHAPTER XIV
A NOBLE SOCIETY
The Jinks Club was having its weekly meeting, and all of the memberswere present.
"I think," the President was saying, "that we ought to do somethingthat's of some use. It's all very well to cut up jinks to have fun, andwe did have a lot of fun on the straw ride last week; but I mean weought to do some real good in the world."
"But how could we, King?" said Marjorie, looking at her brother in awe.
"There are lots of ways!" declared King. "We might do somethingpublic-spirited or charitable."
"I think so, too," said Dick Fulton. "My father was talking last nightabout the selfishness of citizens."
"Goodness, Dick," said his sister, "we're not citizens!"
"Yes, we are, Gladys. Why aren't we? Everybody born in America is acitizen, whether old or young."
"I never dreamed I was a citizen," said Gladys, giggling. "Did you,Kit?"
"No," said Kitty; "but I'd just as lieve be. Wouldn't you, Dorothy?"
"Yes, indeed. It's nice to be citizens. Sort of patriotic, you know."
"Well," said Midget, "if we're citizens, let's do citizens' work. Whatdo they do, King?"
"Oh, they vote, and----"
"But we can't vote. Of course we girls never can, but you boys can't foryears yet. Don't be silly."
"Well, there are other things besides voting," said Dick. "Some citizenshave big meetings and make speeches."
"Now _you're_ silly," said Kingdon. "We can't make speeches any morethan we can vote. But there must be things that young folks can do."
"We could have a fair and make money for the heathen," volunteeredGladys.
"That's too much like work," said King. "Besides, we're all going to bein the Bazaar in December, and we don't want to copy that! And, anyway,I mean something more--more political than that."
"I don't know anything about politics," declared Marjorie, "and youdon't, either!"
"I do, too. Father told me all about the different parties and platformsand everything."
"Let's have a platform," said Kitty. "You boys can build it."
King laughed at this, but, as the others had only a hazy idea of what apolitical platform was, Kitty's suggestion was not heeded.
"I'll tell you," said Dick. "When Father was talking last night, he saidif our citizens were public-spirited, they'd form a Village ImprovementSociety, and fix up the streets and beautify the park and the common,and keep their lawns in better order."
"Now you're talking!" cried King. "That's the sort of thing I mean. Andwe children could be a little Village Improvement Society ourselves. Ofcourse we couldn't do much, but we could make a start, and then grown-uppeople might take the notion and do it themselves."
"I think it would be lovely," said Marjorie. "We could plant flowers inthe middle of the common, and we'd all water them and weed them, andkeep them in lovely order."
"We couldn't plant flowers till next spring," said Gladys. "October's notime to plant flowers."
"It's not a very good time for such work, anyway," said Dick, "for mostof the improvement is planting things, and mowing grass, and like that.But there are other things, 'cause Father said that such a society couldmake all the people who live here keep their sidewalks clean and nothave any ashes or rubbish anywhere about."
"I think it's great," said King. "I move we go right bang! into it, andthat we first change the name of the Jinks Club to the VillageImprovement Society. Then let's keep just the same officers, andeverything, and go right ahead and improve."
"Yes," said Marjorie, "and then whenever we want to turn back again tothe Jinks Club, why, we can."
"Oh, we won't want to turn back," said King, confidently; "the other'llbe more fun."
"All right," said Dick. "I'm secretary, so I'll make out a list of whatwe can do. How much money is there in the treasury, Midget?"
"Sixty cents," said Marjorie, promptly.
"Huh! Just what we paid in to-day."
"Yes, you know we spent last week's money going on a trolley ride."
"So we did. Well, we'll have to have more cash, if we're going toimprove this town much."
"Then I can't belong," said Marjorie, decidedly. "I've got to begin nowto save money for Christmas. I'd rather have it for that than plantflower beds."
"A nice citizen you are!" growled King. "But," he added, "I haven't anyextra money, either. Christmas is coming, and that's a fact!"
"Father'll give us Christmas money," said Kitty.
"Yes; but he likes to have us save some of our allowance, too. He saysit makes better gifts."
"Well," said Dick, "let's do things that don't cost money, then. Fathersaid the streets and lanes ought to be kept in better order. Let's goaround and pick up the old cans and things."
"No, thank you," said Marjorie, turning up her small nose. "I'm noragpicker."
"I wouldn't do that, either," said Gladys; "that is, unless I had ahorse and cart. A pony-cart, I mean; not a dump-cart. But, Dick, I heardFather talking last night, too; and he said a society like that wouldsend out letters to the citizens, asking them to keep their yards inbetter order."
"That's the ticket, Gladys!" cried Kingdon, admiringly. "You've struckit now. Of course that's the way to accomplish what we are after, in adignified manner. Let's write a lot of those letters, and then when thepeople fix their places all up, we'll say that we started the movement."
"All right," said Dick, "I think that's just what Father meant. But hesaid 'a circular letter.' That means have it printed."
"Oh, well, we can't afford to have it printed. Why, we can't scrape uppostage for very many letters. Sixty cents; that would mail thirtyletters."
"We can't write more than that," said Marjorie. "That would be fiveapiece for all of us. And I don't know as Kit and Dorothy write wellenough, anyway."
"Dorothy does," said Kitty, generously. "But I write like hen's tracks."
"Well, you can write those that don't matter so much," said Midge,kindly. "I'll tell you, Kitty, you can write the one to Father."
"Pooh, Father doesn't need any. Our place is always in order."
"So is ours!" cried Dick. "And ours!" piped up Dorothy.
"But don't the citizens all have to have letters?" asked Gladys. "If youjust pick out the ones who don't keep their lawns nice, they'll be mad."
"No, they won't," said Dick; "or, if they are, why, let 'em _be_ mad."
"I say so, too," agreed King. "If we write to the ones that need writingto, we'll have all we can do. Make out a list of 'em, Dick."
"Put down Mr. Bolton first," said Gladys. "He hasn't mowed his grass allsummer. Father says his place is a disgrace to the comminity."
"Community, child," corrected her brother. "But old Bolton's place _is_awful. So is Crane's."
"Let's write their letters now, and see how they sound," suggested King,who was always in favor of quick action.
The club was meeting in the Maynards' big playroom, so paper and pencilswere handy.
"It ought to be in ink, I s'pose," said King, "but I hardly ever use it,it spills about so. Let's take pencil this time."
After many suggestions and corrections on the part of each of theinterested members the following letter was achieved:
"MR. BOLTON,
"_Dear Sir_: We wish kindly to ask you to keep your place in better order. We are trying to improve our fair city, and how can we do it when places like yours are a disgrace to the community? We trust you will be nice about this, and not get mad, for we mean well, and hope you are enjoying the same blessing."
"That's all right," said Marjorie, as Dick read it aloud. "Now, what dowe sign it?"
"Just sign it 'The Village Improvement Society,' that's all," saidGladys.
"Wait a minute," said King. "In all letters of this sort they alwaysabbreviate some words; it looks more business-like."
"Mother hates abbreviations," said Marjorie; "she won't let me say'phone for telephone, or auto for moto
r-car."
"That's different," said King. "She means in polite society; talking,you know, or writing notes to your friends."
"Isn't a Village Improvement Society a polite society?" asked Kitty.
"Yes, of course, sister. But I don't mean that. I mean, in a businessletter like this they always abbreviate some words."
"Well, abbreviate 'community,' that's the longest word," suggested Dick.
"No, that isn't the right kind of a word to abbreviate. It ought to besomething like acc't for account."
"Oh, that kind? Well, perhaps we can use that word in some other letter.But can't we do the abbreviating in the signature? That's pretty long."
"So we can," said King. "Let's sign it, 'The Village Imp. Society.'"
This was adopted, as it didn't occur to any of the children that theabbreviated word might convey an unintended meaning.
Mr. Crane was attended to next, and, as they warmed to their subject,his letter was a little more peremptory. It ran:
"MR. CRANE,
"_Dear Sir_: We're improving our village, and, unless you fix up your place pretty quick, we will call and argue with you. On no acc't let it go another week looking as disreputibil as it now does. We mean well, if you do; but if you don't,--beware!
"THE VILLAGE IMP. SOCIETY."
"That's fine!" exclaimed Gladys, as this effusion was read out. "Now,let's do two more, and then we can each take one for a copy, and make alot of them, just put different names at the top, you know."
"Let's make a more gentle one," said Marjorie. "Those are all right formen, but there's old Mrs. Hill, she ought to be told pleasantly to fixup her garden and keep her pigs and chickens shut up. We almost ranover a lot of them the other day."
So a gentle petition was framed:
"DEAR MRS. HILL:
"Won't you please be so kind as to straighten out your garden a little? We'd like to see it look neat like Mr. Fulton's, or Mr. Maynard's, or Mr. Adams'. Don't go to too much trouble in this matter, but just kill or shut up your pigs and chickens, and we will all help you if need be.
"Lovingly yours, "THE VILLAGE IMP. SOCIETY."
"That's sweet," said Marjorie; "I like that 'Lovingly yours'; it showswe have no hard feelings."
One more was framed, with a special intent toward the shopkeepers:
"MR. GREEN:
"We wish to goodness you'd keep your goods in better order. In front of your store, on sidewalk and gutter, are old fruits, potatoes, and sundry other things too old to be quite nice. So spruce things up, and you will be surprised at the result.
"Yours in good fellowship, "THE VILLAGE IMP. SOCIETY."
"That's a good business one," said Dick. "Sort of 'man to man,' youknow."
"I don't like it as well as some of the others," said Marjorie. "Youcopy that, Dick, and I'll copy the 'lovingly' one."
Each took a model, and all set to work, except Kitty and Dorothy, whowere exempt, as their penmanship was not very legible.
"I'm tired," announced Dick, after an hour's work. "Let's stop where weare."
"All right," said King. "We've enough for the first week, I think. Ifthese work pretty good, we'll do more next Saturday."
They had sixteen letters altogether, addressed to the best and worstcitizens of Rockwell, and in high glee they started to the post-officeto buy their stamps.
Mrs. Maynard willingly gave permission for them to go the shortdistance to the post-office, and watched the six well-behaved childrenas they walked off, two by two.
After the stamps were bought, and the letters posted, they found theystill had enough in the treasury for soda water all round, lacking twocents. King generously supplied the deficit, and the six trooped intothe drug store, and each selected a favorite flavor.
The club meeting broke up after that, and the children went to theirhomes, feeling that they had greatly gained in importance since morning.And indeed they had.
That same evening many of the Rockwell people strolled down to thepost-office for their mail.
In the small town there were no carriers, and the short trip to thepost-office was deemed a pleasure by most.
When Mr. Maynard arrived he was surprised to find men gathered intosmall groups, talking in loud and almost angry voices.
The pretty little stone building was not large enough to hold them all,and knots of people were on the steps and on the small grass plot infront.
"It's outrageous!" one man was saying. "I never heard of such impudencein a civilized town!"
"Here comes Mr. Maynard now," said another, "let's ask him."
Mr. Maynard smiled pleasantly as the belligerent ones approached him.
They were men whom he knew by name, but they were not of his own socialcircle.
"Look here," said John Kellogg, "I've just got this 'ere note, and somekid yonder says it's the handwritin' of your son, and I want ter know efthat's so!"
"It certainly looks like my son's writing," said Mr. Maynard, stillsmiling pleasantly, though his heart sank as he wondered what thosechildren had been up to now.
Marjorie's Busy Days Page 14