Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer

by Rena I. Halsey

  CHAPTER X--NATHALIE AS THE STORY LADY

  Nathalie's color flamed again as she heard that "little girl," and shedrew herself up in momentary indignation. Oh, this was evidently the Dr.Homer whom she had heard the girls talk so much about, and who had beengiving them lessons in First Aid to the Injured. But who could have toldhim she was a little girl?

  This affront to her dignity was forgotten, however, as she quicklyremembered the need of getting little Rosy home. "Mrs. Morrow is in thewoods--oh, there she is now!" she cried hastily, as she pointed to theDirector, who, with the Pioneers and their burden, had halted on theedge of the woods and stood waiting for her. As Mrs. Morrow perceivedher brother she quickly beckoned to him.

  A few steps, and Dr. Homer was at his sister's side, listening to herhurried recital of the preceding events and her anxiously expressed wishthat Rosy could be seen to as soon as possible.

  "Why, if it isn't little Rosebud!" said the doctor jovially as he turnedfrom his sister and looked down at the helpless mite of humanity, lyingso patient and still in the stretcher.

  The child smiled shyly, and Nathalie, perceiving that he knew her, gavea sigh of relief, for she felt that now everything would soon be allright.

  It did not take the doctor long to lift Rosy tenderly into the car andto make her comfortable with her little black head on Mrs. Morrow's lap.As he was about to jump in himself an "I want my Story Lady! I want myStory Lady!" came in a loud wail from the little patient, for Rosy'sface had knotted up again as she pushed away Mrs. Morrow's detaininghand and tried to lift her head in search of Nathalie.

  Nathalie hastened to the side of the car crying, "Oh, Rosy, it's allright. I'm going home to your mamma. I will be there almost as soon asyou--"

  "Why, Nathalie, get in with us," exclaimed Mrs. Morrow, "there is roomon the front seat with the doctor. Oh, I beg your pardon, Nathalie,perhaps you have not met my brother. Jack, this is Miss Page, our newPioneer, and oh, Jack; if it had not been for her I don't know when poorlittle Rosy would have been found!"

  "I am most pleased to meet you, Miss Page," smiled the doctor with undueemphasis on the Miss. Then, as he noted Nathalie's stiff little bow, hecontinued apologetically, with a humorous twinkle in his eye, "I haveheard so much about Blue Robin, that somehow I thought she was a littlegirl."

  Nathalie smiled pleasantly, instantly recognizing that this frank-eyedyoung man was doing his best to atone for his mistake of a few minutesago. But she must not keep him waiting, and a moment later she spranginto the car. Although it was but a short ride to Felia's house, therewas time enough for the doctor to chat pleasantly with the young girl,so by the time they had reached their destination Nathalie understoodwhy Dr. Homer was such a favorite with the Pioneers.

  Fortunately, Edith had caught Dr. Morrow just as he was about to set outto call on a patient, so he soon arrived. In a short time he and Dr.Homer had set the broken limb and made the child comfortable, who, witha smile of content, received a bowl of bread and milk from Mammy, whoseblack face was wreathed in smiles again as she saw that the little onewas not lying down at the bottom of the pond.

  A half-hour later a group of girls straggled wearily along the mainstreet of the village, animatedly discussing first one and then anotherdetail of the morning's hunt. As they were all tired, it was unanimouslydecided to postpone the bird hike to another day.

  When this decision was reached, Nathalie's bright face clouded as sheexclaimed contritely, "Oh, girls, I'm awfully sorry I broke up the hike,but I was so anxious to find Rosy."

  "Well, I for one am glad we gave it up," asserted Kitty Corwin, "forgirls, it paid for the disappointment to see that poor mother's joy whenshe saw her child."

  "And the old black mammy--huh--she is a regular plantation coon," chimedin Edith; "did you hear her shout 'Praise de Lord! Hallelujah!'? Oh, buthow her eyes did shine!"

  "She was a black sunbeam, all right," observed Helen, "and it's allowing to Nathalie!" putting her arm about her friend and giving her anenthusiastic squeeze; "she ought to have a white star."

  "A white star," ejaculated Nathalie, "what does that mean?"

  "Why, it means that you should receive a badge of merit, but as aPioneer can't receive a badge until she is a first-class member, Mrs.Morrow gives white stars instead to the girls who deserve badges but arenot yet old enough to receive them," explained Helen. "We keep our starsand then sew them on a big United States flag we are making for our newPioneer room."

  "Oh, I should be pleased to have one!" cried Nathalie, "but it gives memore pleasure to know that you do not think I spoiled your fun, and havebeen so nice about it. I should just hate to have you think meofficious!"

  "But we didn't think that, Nathalie," assured Lillie quickly. "In fact,I guess we just didn't think at all, we were so intent on having our ownselfish ways. We are all friends of yours, and as Pioneers andpersonally," she spoke warmly, "we are glad you won the victory over ournaughty, wicked selves."

  Several days later, Nathalie, who was still the maid of all work, stoodwashing the breakfast dishes. Somehow, helping Mother seemed to havelost its charm. She felt as if she and Miss I Can were not as goodfriends as they were at the beginning of her kitchen campaign. O dear,she did wish Rosy would get better so Felia could come back. She sighedheavily, and then hastily wiped away a stray tear that was meanderingdown her cheek--she had heard a step on the back stoop.

  "Hello, Blue Robin!" was Helen's cheery greeting as she entered,--sheusually came in by the back door in the morning--then she stopped, forNathalie's usually smiling face wore such a look of woe that sheexclaimed anxiously, "Oh, Nathalie, what is the matter?"

  But her only answer was a stifled sob as the girl flung herself into achair by the kitchen table, and dropping her head on her elbow gave wayto the pent up flood that had been gathering for the last few days.Helen stood a moment, uncertain what to say or do, dreading that somegreat calamity had overtaken the family. Then she stepped to herfriend's side and lifting her head encircled her with her armcaressingly. "Now," she cried, softly patting the brown head, "tellfriend Helen all about it."

  Nathalie's tears flowed unrestrainedly for a moment and then, feelingsomewhat better for the overflow, and a little ashamed of useless tearsas she always called them, she withdrew from the friendly shelter andsat up. "Oh, it's just nothing at all, Helen," she cried in a chokedvoice, "only that I'm a great baby--and then--I'm tired"--her voicequavered. "I'm tired of washing dishes and sweeping--" a sniffle--"all thetime."

  "Of course you are tired, who wouldn't be, Nat, with all the wonderfulthings you've done this last week?" sympathized Helen; "considering,too, that it's all new to you. Why, Mother says you are going to make asplendid Pioneer."

  "Oh, did she?" asked Nathalie, her eyes brightening. "It makes one feelgood to be praised, I have felt so discouraged," with an intake of herbreath, "for I've tried so hard to do everything I could, and thenMother, why she hasn't said one word of praise since the first day.Everybody just takes it all--all the work I do--just as if it was nothing,and things drag so. Of course I don't expect to be praised all thetime," she hastened to add, "but oh, I don't seem to feel as happy aboutworking as I did at first."

  "Oh, well, you're tired," replied Helen condolingly. "I know just howyou feel, for I used to feel the same way when I first began to helpMother around the house. You see the enthusiasm and the glory have allgone out of it."

  "The enthusiasm and the glory?" repeated Nathalie in puzzled inquiry.

  "Yes, the novelty of doing something new is the enthusiasm that put youon the job; and the praise you got for doing it--which made you feel asif you were awfully good--that's the glory. But when things get stale andpeople stop saying how smart you are and so on, why then it will be justplain duty all through. You know, the frosting always comes first beforewe get to the cake."

  "Oh, I suppose that has something to do with it," responded Nathaliealertly, "when one comes to think of it. So from now on it will be justplain duty, won't it?" with
a quiver of her chin, for somehow theprospect was not an enjoyable one at that moment.

  "Yes, that's about the size of it," was the practical answer. "But ifyou keep right on doing what you ought to, you'll get something betterthan the sugary stuff. Just keep Miss I Can for your friend, and thenafter a time you will find that you like to do the very things that atfirst seemed so hard. Experience, Mother says, brings knowledge, andknowledge puts you in the end where you want to be."

  "I wish it would," exclaimed Nathalie, her eyes flashing with suddenhope, "for oh, Helen, I do so want to know things, that is the usefularts, for I am so eager to learn how to make money the way you aredoing! You know I have told you all about Dick, Helen," she lowered hervoice, "I think it is just that, seeing the poor fellow striving to earna little money so he can be made well again, that makes me sodown-hearted, for I feel that I am not doing a thing to help him."

  "But you are helping him, and your mother, too, Nathalie," said Helen."By the very work you are doing you are helping your mother to savemoney, that ought to be something to comfort you."

  "Oh, but it's mean kind of work," emphasized Nathalie, "and then, too,it's only saving a mite; and it will take so much money for Dick'soperation."

  "Now, see here, Nathalie," exclaimed her friend, "let's figure thisthing out." Taking a pencil and pad that always hung by the table withNathalie's list of edibles to be served at each meal, she drew a chairup to the table and began to figure just how much Nathalie was savingher mother by doing the work herself.

  Nathalie bent over her shoulder and watched eagerly as she saw the lineof figures jotted down by Helen. Then she, too, put on her thinking-capand in a few minutes the two girls had figured out quite a sum thatNathalie was actually saving in dollars and cents each week she did thework.

  As Nathalie realized this fact, demonstrated so clearly by her friend,her eyes sparkled, and clapping her hands she cried, "Oh, Helen, I'mgoing to get Mother to let me do the work all the time--of course, as yousay, the washing will have to be done out--but oh, I shall feel--"

  "Now, Nathalie, don't go off at a tangent; stop and consider before youmake this suggestion to your mother. You must think just what it willcost you, that is, count what it will mean to suffer aches in your backand feet, to have fire-scorched cheeks,--they say cooking ruins thecomplexion,--red, sloppy hands, and all the rest of the penalties imposedon one for doing housework. If you put your hand to the plow, you know,once started you can't look back."

  "Oh, yes, I know, Helen, it will be terrible to have to do these things,but if it will help me to earn money, even the teeniest bit, now that Iknow that it is to be done without the glory perhaps it won't be sohard. Oh, I know Miss I Can will help me!" Nathalie smiled through themist that would blur her eyes, "for I must help Dick."

  "Yes," returned her friend, "if you feel that way, determined to helpDick, go ahead; for that will serve as the glory, that is, the incentivewill help you through lots of hard things."

  Nathalie looked up at her friend's grave face with wonder-lit eyes. "Oh,Helen," she said solemnly, "do you know you are going to be a greatwoman? You are awfully wise for a girl of your age!"

  Helen interrupted her with a merry laugh. "Oh, no, I'm not going to be agreat woman at all. I should love to be--that is my ambition,--but one'sambitions are not apt to materialize the way one expects them to, youknow. But I'll tell you, Nathalie," her face sobered, "I have a verywise mother--she tells me these things. And then as I go about I findfrom experience that what she has said comes true."

  "Yes, Helen, you will be great," nodded Nathalie sagely. "Perhaps youwill not go about blowing a trumpet to let people know you are one ofthe world's great ones, but you will be all the same, even if you neverdo a thing but live in this sleepy town and become a stenographer."

  "Well, it looks that way," laughed Helen, "from the pile of typing thatawaits me. Yes, I am, as you say, in a fair way to become astenographer, but Ye Stars! if I do not become an expert one, I'll--wellI'll go hang myself, as the boys say, for I must succeed!"

  "Oh, are you really going, friend comforter?" laughed Nathalie, as Helenrose to go. "Yes, you are that, for you have given me lots of comfortthis morning; you put new life in me when the cause was almost lost. Onthe strength of your calculations I'm going to lay my plans beforeMother, and then I'm going to get some books and trinkets and go to seeRosy."

  "Oh, yes, how is she?" inquired Helen interestedly. "I was thinkingabout her the other day."

  "She is getting along nicely, but it is awfully hard for the littlething to lie there most of the time alone. I was down to see heryesterday and told her some stories, and I promised to come againto-day."

  "I wish I could help you! But see here, Nathalie, speak to Grace andLillie about the story-telling; perhaps they will help you at that.Grace is a lady with plenty of leisure to waste, and Lillie Bell doteson yarns."

  "I did ask Lillie, but she said she was no good telling stories tochildren, and Grace--why, she said she was busy getting her clothes readyfor the summer."

  "There's Kitty. Ah, I expect to see her this afternoon. I'll ask her tolend you a hand, but I must go, so good-by and good luck to you, StoryLady!"

  "Oh, Mother, you are just a dear!" cried Nathalie a little later, as shewas about to set forth to see Rosy. Her mother had come down from theattic with a couple of old picture-books, and handed them to her to giveto the little invalid.

  "Gloriana! won't they make her eyes shine!" exclaimed Nathalie as shetucked them under her arm, picked up the basket of goodies she hadprepared, and hurried down the walk. As she knocked at the door of thegray shanty she heard Rosy whimpering softly. "Poor kiddie," shethought, with a wave of pity. Receiving no answer she pushed open thedoor, which was partly ajar, and entered. On the bed lay the little formwith its head buried in a pillow, emitting a series of feeble whines.

  "Good morning!" said the smiling visitor as she touched the half-buriedshoulder.

  At the sound of her voice the child's woolly head rolled over, and asmile of welcome radiated her tear-stained face.

  "How is it that you are all alone?" asked Nathalie, taking out an orangefrom the basket; "where are Mother and Mammy?"

  "Mamma went to de town, and Mammy--she's doin' de wash," and then hereyes expanded with joy as she spied the orange.

  The orange was soon demolished, and then, as Nathalie started to showher the two picture-books, she realized that Miss I Can confronted heragain, for a sticky mouth and hands revealed the fact that she had anunpleasant task to perform. For a moment she hesitated, but quicklyovercoming her disinclination, she plunged in, got a basin of water, andfinding no wash-cloth, dipped her own dainty handkerchief in it, andamid sundry squeals and protests gave the little face and hands a goodscrubbing.

  This performed, the picture-books were brought forth and she was soonbusy explaining the pictures to the pleased little girl. But thisdiversion she soon tired of and then came the cry, "Oh, Story Lady,won't yo' please tell me er story?"

  "Why, I don't think I know any now--" Nathalie had meant to look up afairy book so as to be prepared, but the pleading look in the black eyesupturned to hers won its way and she said, "All right, I'll see what Iknow? How would 'The Babes in the Woods' do?"

  As this title was mentioned, a cry of protest came from the child, "No,I don't want to hear about de woods. I'se afraid of de woods."

  "Of course you don't, you poor little chickie," answered Nathaliecontritely, and then her face lightened up as a streak of sunshine atthat moment glancing in the window proved an inspiration. So she beganto tell about Sunshine Polly, who had been told that if she could getsome sunshine in her heart she would always be happy, and how sheforthwith set out for this golden country, and after many adventuresfound it. Indeed it proved to be a most beautiful place, with a king,very round and bright, and a lot of sunshine fairies flying all aboutthrowing some of their sunny treasure into the eyes of every one theysaw.

  By the bright eyes watching her, Nathalie
knew that she had made a goodselection this time, and the story progressed. She told how Polly gotthe sunbeams, with a breathing spell every now and then to think up somemore, and the cries, "Oh, dat's a lubly story! Oh, I likes dat story!"But at last Polly returned from the land of sunshine with a crown ofsunbeams on her head and a big bundle of it in her heart.

  Nathalie smiled as she finished, for it seemed as if she too, had beento the sunshine land and had put some of it into Rosy's little heart."Ah, now I will get a chance to slip away," she thought, picking up herbasket as a prelude to her departure.

  But Rosy, surmising by her movement that she contemplated leaving, beganto wail plaintively, begging her so hard to tell just one more "lublystory." As Nathalie stood, trying her best to think of another story,she heard a slight noise, and looked up to see three little black faceswith big shiny eyes staring at her from over the ledge of the window.

  The girl broke into a merry laugh, for really it was funny to see thosethree round faces--like a row of flower-pot saucers on a shelf. "Why, howdid you get there?" she cried and then again burst into laughter. Thelaughter proved contagious, for the three little pickaninniesimmediately joined in her merriment, and then, evidently thinking thiswas an invitation to come in, one after the other slid over the sill andtrotted up to the bed, to the great delight of Rosy. Here they climbedup, sitting on the edge with their naked black feet hanging down,looking for all the world like monkeys' claws as they swung them to andfro, anxiously waiting for the story to begin.

  "Why, how did you get there?"]

  "Oh, what shall I tell them?" worried Nathalie, but in a flash sheremembered, and was soon in the mysteries of that beloved of all fairytales, "Jack and the Bean Stalk." The interested glow in four pairs ofeyes was inspiring, and amply repaid her for the time that she had soreluctantly given the little hearers.

  The tale was soon ended, and again Nathalie sprang to her feet, feelingthat now she must go, for there was that dessert she had to make fordinner. She gathered up her basket and had just turned to say good-by toher audience of four, when she saw Dr. Morrow, who was standing by thedoor, smiling down at her with his kindly eyes.

  "Oh, were you there all the time?" she asked in dismay. The doctornodded as he said, "Yes, Blue Robin, I have enjoyed your story verymuch. You had such an appreciative audience," smiling at the littleblack faces, "that I was reluctant to disturb their bliss. Our littlefriend Rosy has well named you, 'The Story Lady.'"

  He turned towards his patient, and then with a kindly word for each ofher little friends, he began to inquire as to how Rosy was. As Felia atthis moment entered the room, Nathalie waved a good-by to Rosy, andsurrounded by the three pickaninnies, each one eager to carry herbasket, hurried out of the room and into the sunshine she had beentelling about. The many comments made by her body-guard of three, showedhow eager they were for the joys of story-land--a rare treat to them.Realizing how much can be taught a child through story-telling, as shehad found when she was a child, Nathalie fell to thinking. By the timeshe reached home she had planned a story club--oh, it would be just thething--if the Pioneers would agree to it. They could take turns, only anhour once or twice a week, in telling stories to these new friends ofhers, and who knows, if the class grew they might eventually do a greatdeal of good? Still somewhat timid of taking the initiative, she plannedto lay it before Helen and let the suggestion come from her.

  Nathalie was trilling softly to herself little snatches of song, forsomehow on that bright June day she felt very happy. She had started, asshe told Helen, on a new career. Of course her mother had objected atfirst to her taking Felia's place, but when she found that Nathalie wasdetermined, she had consented, feeling that perhaps it would not harmher for a while. And then, too, she would learn many things she neededto know, and this was her opportunity to learn them. So Nathalie had wonher consent, and with the help of Dorothy, who had been pressed intoservice, and the few things she allowed her mother to do, she had foundher work slip along more easily than she had anticipated, and thethought that she was earning a mite towards a great object, as Helensaid, had proved the glory.

  And so she sang away, doing the week's stint of darning, as the stockingdrill at the Pilgrim Rally had helped her wonderfully, and now she wasquite assured that her mother did not have to do her work over.

  As she glanced up from her work to watch a tiny humming bird that wasflitting among the leaves of the honeysuckle trellis, she heard thethrob of an engine, and looked up to see Dr. Morrow's car coming up theroad. To her surprise, instead of running his car in through his gate tothe garage, he brought it to a standstill in front of their house,alighted, and a moment later was coming briskly up the path.

  His cheery greeting broke in upon her surprise as he cried, "Well, BlueRobin, so you are at home!" O dear! every one seemed to be calling herthat nowadays, the girl thought a little ruefully.

  "Good morning," she cried; then her face paled apprehensively. "Oh, haveyou come about Dick--do you think his knee is worse?" she faltered,suddenly remembering that her brother had complained quite a little thelast three days with the pain in his knee.

  "No, I have not come about Dick," was the reassuring answer. "I havecome to see you on important business. Dick is doing as well as can beuntil he is operated on."

  Nathalie sighed, and then said, "Oh, Doctor, I do wish you would explainto me about Dick's operation! Mother told me a little, but you see Idon't know much about these things."

  The doctor raised his eyebrows in pretended surprise and then he said ina serious tone, "I should say not. Such things as operations are not forlittle Blue Robins. They are supposed to trill little tru-al-lee songs,or tell fairy tales to children, as I hear some of them have been doinglately."

  The girl's eyes grew bright. "Oh, we are all doing it. Has Mrs. Morrowtold you about the Pioneer Story Club we have formed? Helen suggestedit, in a way." Nathalie was modest, for the suggestion had really comefrom herself, and also the planning with the aid of Helen's wise head."We go down to the colored settlement," she continued, "every Saturdaymorning and take turns in telling stories to the little children. Don'tyou think it a fine idea?" She spoke animatedly.

  "Indeed I do, but now for the business."

  "Oh--but please tell me about the operation first!" Nathalie was afraidthe doctor intended to put her off. "Tell me, will Dick really be goodand strong again after he has the operation?"

  The doctor gazed at her a moment with serious eyes and then said slowly,"Yes, Miss Nathalie, I believe that if your brother could have thatoperation he would be just as well as if this unfortunate accident hadnot happened."

  "But what makes the operation necessary, and what would you do to him?"she insistently demanded.

  "Well, I am not going to tell you exactly what we would do to him. Weshall not make hash of him--"

  "Oh, Doctor!" exclaimed Nathalie with a shiver.

  "But we will remove an unhealthy bone in his leg and replace it with anew one. I saw an infected finger joint removed the other day andreplaced with a joint taken from one of the patient's toes."

  "Oh, Doctor Morrow," cried the distressed girl, "you are kidding, as theboys say."

  The doctor shook his head. "No, some years ago I might have beenindulging in a yarn, but surgery has made great strides these last fewdecades, and cripples nowadays may be restored to health and strength bytransplanting entire bones with their joint surfaces. This discovery wasannounced a short time ago by an eminent surgeon before the PhiladelphiaAcademy of Surgery. Tests were made on dogs first, and the results wereso satisfactory that the same methods have since been applied to thehuman body with like results.

  "Hitherto bone transplantation had been attended with great stiffnessand lack of power in the members treated, but now an infected hip jointmay be removed in the same way, and replaced by healthy bones, and thefunctions work properly. But, young lady, I came here not to deliver alecture on the transplantation of bones, but to ask you to do somethingfor me."

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