Читать книгу The Greycliff Girls in Camp - Harriet Pyne Grove - Страница 4

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When Lilian woke the next morning, she dreamily looked toward the light of a grey, rainy morning and noticed the lace curtains stirring in the breeze. “How appropriate,” thought she, “a crown and ‘The Queen’s’ woven in the pattern.” She glanced at Hilary and June sleeping in the double bed near. “Here we are, then, in Canada,” closing her eyes. “I wonder if Philip will come up to camp as he said he would ... isn’t he fine?... how dark his eyes are ... I wonder ...” and Lilian dozed off into an enchanting dream of motoring somewhere with Philip Van Buskirk, not waking till Cathalina, who fit nicely right into the dream, was shaking her and saying, “Wake up, Canada Lily, do you know we’ll disgrace our nation and not get down before the dining room closes!”

Rested from their warm baths and good sleep of the night, fresh, smiling girls gathered in the breakfast room of “The Queen’s”. Miss West was proud of them and their quiet, dignified behaviour.

“What do you think we had for breakfast, Mother?” wrote June a little later. “Strawberries and cream—thick cream! Think of it, on the first of July! I’m going to begin in March in Cincinnati and go north to follow up the berries till the season ends in Canada. I ordered ‘oatmeal porridge’ because it sounded so English, ‘bean porridge hot’, you know,—and it was the best breakfast food I ever ate. They had ‘English breakfast tea’ on the menu, too, but I couldn’t order that because I wanted cocoa, m’m, so good! Some of the cocoa you get traveling is horrid. But I’ll never forget those big, ripe, juicy berries that the waiter brought me. I felt selfish because mine happened to be the biggest. But you couldn’t change, of course, anyway, in public. Our waiter looked just like the English valet I saw the other day in a movie, so dignified and serious.

“I’ve gotten the traveler’s guide and things from the office and have learned that Toronto was founded as a French trading post with the Indians in 1749, and that it covers forty square miles. The name is from an Indian word and means ‘place of meeting’. The land was ‘sold to the Crown in 1787 by the Missisauga Indians for $85.’ Think of it. It is the capital of the Province of Ontario and has a population of five hundred thousand. I don’t suppose I shall remember this, but I promised Father that I’d try to learn some little thing about each place. I may add some more to this after we have taken our ride in the sight-seeing ’bus. Miss West has the tickets already; you can get them right in the hotel. We are to start about noon, for we had our breakfast so late that we shall not want any lunch till at least two o’clock. We are all packed up now, and leave on the boat about four o’clock, I think. We haven’t seen Betty yet, or even called her up. When we started to, we found that nobody, not even Cathalina, knew her aunt’s name or telephone number, but Betty knows when we leave and I’m sure she will be here or at the boat on time.”

“Come, girls,” said Miss West, “all ready for the trip and packed up to start after lunch? We’ll go down to the lobby and see if the taxi has arrived.”

And such an immense taxi it was. “I feel like a monkey,” declared Jean, “climbing with both hands and feet up this tippy height!” The party occupied only two of the long seats, and those in front had been reserved for them. The man of the megaphone was hatless and active, collecting the tickets as well as imparting information. “There are two persons who have not surrendered their tickets,” he announced, counting tickets and passengers.

Miss West looked up inquiringly. “I have all your tickets together,” he assured her. As the same announcement was made several times later, the girls concluded that it was a polite way of telling that two fares had not been paid.

At once the girls noticed that the city was decorated with flags and that the stores were closed. “This is Dominion Day,” announced the megaphone, “same as your Fourth of July.” Everything was “Limited”, “Imperial”, “Royal”, “Dominion”, or “Queen’s”, according to June. T. Eaton’s seemed to be as important in Toronto as Marshall Field’s in Chicago, and an unusual feature in which the girls were interested was the display of pretty gowns or other articles for sale in the front or bay windows of what had once been private residences, now absorbed into the business part of the city.

“How do you feel, June,” asked Cathalina, “under the Union Jack?”

“All right. You’ve been in so many foreign countries that I suppose it does not seem strange to you.”

“I never happened to be in Canada, and it is just as interesting as it can be!”

Different monuments and churches, Queen’s Park, the University of Toronto and the Parliament building engaged their attention, and as they rode through Rosedale, a pretty residential section, the girls wondered if Betty’s aunt lived there. At the hotel again, it was great fun to trail after the porter who showed them the royal suite; but time was pressing, and while Miss West settled the bills the girls started for the dock, within easy walking distance. Still no Betty!

“I meant to get a picture of that funny little hotel ’bus,” said Marjorie. “Is that our boat? Isn’t it cute?”

“You’ll be the death of me yet,” laughed Jean, “A steam-boat cute!”

“What’s its name?” continued Marjorie undisturbed.

“The Toronto; see?”

“Salve, Toronto! Vale, Toronto!” remarked Hilary.

“What does that mean?” asked June.

“It means ‘hail, Toronto,’ the boat, and ‘farewell, Toronto,’ the city.”

As they came nearer the dock, some one jumped out of a taxi and waved. It was Betty at last.

“Why, Betty,—all alone?”

“Yes, Miss West, company came unexpectedly. I had a time to get packed up at all. But fortunately Auntie had bought my tickets yesterday, and my trunk came down this morning. I have been thinking of you all and could hardly wait to see you, but Auntie said that you would be taking in the city anyway. That was to console me.”

The girls were fortunate in getting seats out in the very front of the deck. Their baggage had been taken to the little staterooms, cameras and field glasses brought out, and they settled themselves in great content for the trip by water from Toronto to Montreal. So far there had been so much sight-seeing that the visiting had been only incidental, though by this time the Greycliff girls felt pretty well acquainted with the three girls—Marjorie, Jean and Rhoda—whom they had so recently met.

Betty and Cathalina compared their adventures since they had parted at Greycliff.

“Mother said ‘how could she spare her little Betty so soon,’ for this little visit to Auntie first, then for nearly all summer at camp, home for just a peep at the folks, and school at Greycliff again!”

“Mine felt that way, too, but she said that it was a good opportunity for me to have the experience of a girls’ camp, while so many of us could be together and while we had darling old Patty to take care of us.”

“O, there are lots of councillors to do that.”

“Yes, of course, but then we know Patty so well.”

“Is Isabel coming, or do you know, Cathalina?”

“Yes; I had a letter from her soon after she got home. Her father had said that she could come. Did you know that Virginia Hope went home with her for the summer?”

“No. I rushed off home, you know, the first minute I could. That was lovely of Isabel, and of Mr. Hunt, too.”

“I suppose that Virginia will come to camp with Isabel, but she did not say so, and it might be that Virginia made other plans later. We shall know when we get there,—naturally.”

“There is Jean sitting by herself. Come on over here, Jean,” and Betty hitched her chair along to make room for Jean’s.

“I was just dreaming and watching the water,” said Jean. “Don’t you love it?”

“Yes, I never get tired of it,” answered Cathalina, “but Betty and I were talking about some of the girls we know at school.”

“O, yes; what is this ‘Greycliff’ you girls talk about?”

“I’m afraid you would be sorry if we got started talking on that subject, but it is a girls’ school, preparatory, with two years of college work, and Patty, Miss West, you know, teaches there. That is how some of us found out about camp, because she is a councillor there, too. Betty and I, with Lilian and Hilary, are in a suite together. Phil calls us the ‘suite quartet’, which is an awful pun. Philip is my brother,—O, yes, you met him at Buffalo. Of course you know about Helen and Evelyn, and we were just saying that perhaps two of the younger girls at Greycliff—Isabel Hunt and Virginia Hope—would be at camp this summer. Isabel wrote that she is coming, but did not speak of Virginia, and Virginia is visiting there. She wrote a scrap of a letter only and did not think of it, I suppose. Then there is another of our especial friends whom we hope to see, Eloise Winthrop, a lovely girl that I’m sure you will like.”

“Isn’t it funny how you always get crazy about the school you go to?”

“O, I don’t know, Jean,” replied Betty. “You see Greycliff is unusual!”

“Last call for the first sitting.” Thus from time to time the different dinner calls came. Dinner on the boat started at six o’clock, but the girls had decided that they did not want tickets. This was contrary to their usual custom, for Miss West considered that regular meals were a necessary part of travel. But the late and excellent lunch at the Queen’s, together with a fine supply of sandwiches and pickles brought by Betty, and a quantity of fruit brought aboard by Miss West, made the girls lose all interest in dinner.

“Besides, you know, we’d better be careful if we have to stay on the boat all night.” This from Marjorie, as the girls were drawing their chairs close together and Betty was passing out sandwiches and pickles.

“Don’t give her any more pickles, then, Betty.”

“All right, you shall have the rest, Jean. I love to see you so careful of Marjorie!”

“Let’s stay out on deck as long as possible; may we, Miss West?”

“Just as long as you like tonight,” replied Patricia, who herself enjoyed it outside. But they had nothing to dread, for the lake was calm; no motion of the boat was felt except the throbbing of the engine. Gulls flew high or low or rested on the water. It was cloudy and the sun, round and orange, slowly sank through and below the clouds, leaving for a little while a golden glow upon the water. The girls played a few of the guessing games when it grew dark, but finally the time came when the little god of dreams claimed his own. For some time June had been sitting with her head on Hilary’s shoulders, when Miss West declared that the procession for the staterooms would “now start”.

“Don’t ring the bell as I did,” admonished Jean, “I thought it was the electric button. You pull down the light and press the button to ring. After I made the mistake I locked the door and skipped out, so I wouldn’t be there when the maid came.”

“You needn’t have worried. I was just across from you with my door braced open to air the place, and nobody came.”

“Thanks, Betty. You take a heavy load off my conscience!”

Nothing disturbed the serenity of the night. The girls were wakened by an early stop at Kingston and soon found themselves taking breakfast with the second “shift” in the dining-room. They were to transfer to the other boat at Prescott, but the Toronto was going very slowly on account of a heavy fog, and finally anchored for nearly an hour. When the fog lifted, however, the girls found a bright day before them. The turning of the capstan when the anchor was drawn up interested them not a little. The transfer was made to the boat which was to take them through the rapids.

From now on to Montreal the scenery was beautiful. It was the broad St. Lawrence with its Thousand Islands and rapids. The Merrymeeting girls were down in the dining-room when the first rapids were reached, and one or two looked anxiously at Miss West, who smiled reassuringly, and soon the churning waters were left behind, with nothing but one little grinding scrape to remind any one of rocks as the boat went through. “And perhaps that was our imagination,” admitted June, as they discussed it later.

“I’m getting enough rocks at last,” remarked Hilary.

“Why, do you like them so much?”

“Yes, Rhoda, ever since we started into the St. Lawrence I’ve been saying ‘I love Thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills’, even if these are not all of my own country. Look. There seems to be a sort of red rock as the foundation of the islands. There’s a dear little one that I’d like to own. Think of a cottage there among the trees and a place for the water birds to build in the rocks!”

“You wouldn’t like it in winter, would you?”

“No, nor in summer without a launch. But you mustn’t be so practical, Cathalina, can’t one have a little fancy?”

“Dear old Hilary! Purr-rr! Her shall have her little island!”

“Campbell likes the water, too. Wouldn’t Thousand Islands be a lovely place for a honeymoon?”

“Sh-sh, Lilian, the other girls might hear and Hilary wouldn’t like it.”

“I should think Hilary wouldn’t,” commented the young lady herself. “Please, girls, why are you so silly?”

“Well,” said Lilian, “when a certain young man finds out that a certain young lady is going to a camp and immediately takes steps to get himself appointed as councillor at a camp very near and under the same management, it looks as if there were some connection anyhow!”

Hilary smiled, but made a little pouting face at Lilian, as she moved over to where Marjorie and Rhoda were focusing their field glasses on more rapids ahead.

“O, the most interesting thing, Hilary,” cried June. “I heard a gentleman tell his wife that there is only one pilot who can take the boat through the rapids, and he has to go up every day to do it. He learned it from his father, and his son is watching him to learn how.”

“And did you notice,” said Rhoda, “how he pointed out the ‘American’ or the ‘Canadian’ side? They are Canadians, too. It seems funny to me, for they are in America as much as we are.”

“Yes,” said Hilary, “but the books do it. It seems to be general.”

“Look,” said Marjorie. “See how the steamer changes its course, always going in the more quiet water. I can pretty nearly tell where we’ll go. See the water tumbling over there! Big rocks, I guess.”

“Yes, and did you hear the man say what a descent there is?—I can feel the boat going down hill!”

“We are really and truly shooting the rapids,” said June with great satisfaction.

Mt. Royal, from which Montreal takes its name, could be seen long before the last rapids were reached. Everybody was invited to the front of the boat while an official talked about the rapids, the Indian village on their right, and other points of interest. Safely through the Lachine Rapids the boat glided and reached Montreal at last. Some of the girls in the crowded motor ’bus, a few in a rickety victoria, the Merrymeeting party rode to the hotel where they were to remain two nights.