Blue Robin, the Girl Pioneer — Part 39

She had just finished hearing Nathalie recite the Pioneer Pledge and laws, give the names of the Presidential party, as Nathalie called them, adding the name of the governor of the State in which she lived, describe the United States flag, sew a button on—as it should be done, she had declared with solemn unction—and then exhibit her skill at tying a square knot.

“After you become a Bluebird at the Pilgrim Rally to-morrow, I shall begin to drill you in the tests necessary to make you a Second-Class Pioneer,” Helen had declared when the lesson was over and she began to gather up her sewing materials.

“Oh, will you?” cried Nathalie, “but when can I become one?”

“In a month,” was the reply, “if you pass the tests; but there, I shall never get my work done if I stand here and talk,” and Helen started for the steps.

“Yes, and I am in a hurry to hear what Dr. Morrow says about Dick’s knee,” returned Nathalie as she followed her friend to the edge of the veranda. “You know he was in this morning to examine it; I am so anxious to hear what he had to say.”

“How did your brother injure his knee?” asked Helen as she paused at the foot of the steps, “I have often wanted to ask.”

“Why, he slipped on the ice just two days after Father’s death,” rejoined Nathalie, her eyes darkening sorrowfully. “The New York physician said it was only sprained ligaments and would be all right soon. But he has been growing worse—it pains him dreadfully sometimes—oh, you don’t know how worried we are—” her voice quavered, “suppose he should be lame for life!”

“Oh, don’t get nervous over it,” advised Helen cheerfully, “but hurry in and see what Dr. Morrow said. To be sure he is only a one-horse-town doctor, but it is claimed that he is an expert surgeon,” and then with a smile and a wave of her hand she hastened toward the gate.

Nathalie watched her friend with brightening eyes as she hurried across the lawn. Somehow the girl’s companionship had revived her drooping spirits; the many little chats they had had about the Pioneers and the tests, coupled with the anticipation of becoming one, had in a measure brightened her life. To be sure, they could never take the place of her friends of the city, but might perhaps dull the longing for the things of the past and the desires that at times threatened to overwhelm her. She realized that she was beginning to take a keener interest in her surroundings, and felt that it was all owing to the Pioneers.