Kitabı oku: «The Woodcraft Girls at Camp», sayfa 10
Immediately after, the Guide turned abruptly to address Jane but looked keenly at Nita. The girl failed to notice the teacher, however, for she was leaning out of the surrey looking behind where the young fellow still stood waving his hat.
"Zan, stop at once! Nita's lost something! What was it, Nita – I'll help you find it?" said Miss Miller.
"Why – nothing! I didn't lose anything," replied the girl, flushing the moment she realised that she had been caught.
"Oh, I thought you were looking along the road for something you had dropped. Well, drive on, Zan, it's all right!" said the Guide.
"I might have dropped my hat and had a chance to get out and see Jack Everton," thought Nita regretfully.
The rest of the drive over the woodland road was silent, but the girls soon began chattering again, at sight of interesting things in meadows.
After leaving the woodland, Zan let the horse climb up a gradual ascent, taking his time to do so. The road doubled many times before reaching the top. This was to make the ascent easier, Miss Miller explained. At the summit the girls jumped out and admired the view. Zan unhooked the loose check-rein and let the horse graze for a time.
"We can see Baldy right across the valley – see?" said Zan, pointing in the direction of the knoll.
"Then this must be the mountain we saw yesterday," said Jane.
"It is – it used to be called Pine Tree Hill by the farmers hereabouts, but we shortened it to Pine Nob. It gets the name on account of all the fine pines covering its sides," exclaimed Zan.
"But not a berry to be seen!" remarked Hilda.
"And not a snake!" laughed Miss Miller, looking at Elena.
After the Band had roamed about all they wished to, Miss Miller, who had been carefully examining the place, said, "Wouldn't this make a delightful spot for a night-camp when we begin star-gazing?"
"Oh, yes! And there is a small ravine where the spring of fresh water is!" added Zan eagerly.
"Is there! That was the only drawback as far as I knew – now that is removed," replied the Guide.
"Let's come as soon as we can," urged Jane.
"Very well. Suppose we say the first clear night after to-night!" suggested the Guide.
Returning, Zan chose a different road home. At the foot of Pine Nob Cheokee took the road past the Forks and went on the road that ran in front of the Hamilton place. So near were they that the barking of many dogs could be heard. Zan explained that Mr. Hamilton had thorough-bred dogs that he showed at exhibitions or sold for fabulous prices to dog-fanciers.
When the girls drove in at the farm-gate Bill was nowhere in sight, so they backed the carriage into the shed and unharnessed the horse alone.
The greater part of the afternoon had been spent in driving and there was just time for a bath, before supper had to be started.
It took but a few minutes to get out of camp clothes and slide into union suits. It had become quite the natural thing to see each other in the union suits and no further thought was given to it.
The girls were eager to try their courage again and soon were splashing and shouting, Zan suggesting ways and means of keeping afloat, or trying a stroke. Suddenly, Miss Miller stood up in the water near the willow and exclaimed, "Oh, what a cute puppy!"
The girls bobbed up quickly and looked in the direction of the Guide's glance. There sat a half-grown collie pup on the edge of the Bluff looking knowingly down at the bathers.
"Oh, you little darling! Come here!" called Zan, snapping her fingers at the pup.
The doggy wagged his tail violently and jumped up and down, giving funny little barks.
"Isn't he too cunning for anything!" said Elena.
"Come down here – here, doggy, doggy!" coaxed Jane.
The girls stood close together on the edge of the water when the pup suddenly decided to run down to them. He bounded over the grass by the pool and before any one could follow his antics, he jumped in the pool among them.
The girls gave little shrieks and the pup thought it was a signal for play. He immediately caught hold of Zan's suit where it ended about the knee. His teeth felt like tiny steel pins as he clenched the edge of the material, and Zan might have frightened him off had he not upset her into the water. This done, he paddled about and heard the girls clapping madly at the prank. He thought this meant that they wanted some fun too, so he raced to their side and jumped about in the shallow pool, making them squeal and hug each other. The puppy would not be balked of his fun, however, so he tried to get a hold on their fitted suits.
Wild screams and laughter resulted, and suddenly, while the Guide stood under the willow holding her side breathlessly, the entire group, victims and dog, rolled over into the pool.
Of course, there was a mad scene of splashing, sputtering and crying out for help, before either of the girls could rise. The puppy stood on the edge of the bank wagging his tail, his head on one side with black eyes winking at his prey, and his tongue lolling from one side of his wide-open mouth.
When the submerged four could recover a normal state of breathing again, the puppy bent down and began lapping water in as unconcerned a manner as a puppy can assume.
"I wonder if he can swim?" called Zan, who still stood at a safe distance where the dog had ducked her.
"Most likely; he ought to teach the girls the correct method," replied Miss Miller.
Zan whistled and threw a stick down stream to tempt the dog, but he merely watched it float away, and then laid down in the sun to dry.
All the coaxing and chirruping had no effect on the sleepy pup, so the girls ceased their wiles and tried to swim in good style.
During supper, the puppy cried for something to eat, and a bowl of oatmeal left from breakfast, and some warm milk was given him.
"I wonder where he could have come from?" said Elena.
Bill passed by the Bluff on his way to the barn to feed Cheokee, and he said he thought the puppy belonged to Hamilton. A light dawned in Zan's eyes at that.
"Miss Miller, I bet anything, the puppy followed us when we drove past the place. We wouldn't have noticed him, you know, and he, most likely, kept far enough behind so that we didn't see him when we got out. Collie dogs have a wonderful scent, and he could find his way after us even if we were out of sight."
"That seems plausible. Then he must go back home. We will walk over in the morning, and have Bill telephone from the house that the dog is safe."
Bill consented to do this, and the girls hurried supper and did the dishes, so that they could enjoy a romp with the dog.
"I wish to goodness we could keep him!" sighed Zan, watching the pup drag Elena's shoe about.
"We could call him Wickee, couldn't we?" suggested Jane.
"Yes, if we owned him. But pedigreed pups like this one cost too much for our Band to buy, and Hamilton raises all his dogs for money, so it's good-night to that dream!" said Zan.
"Sorry, Zan, to heap trouble on your head; regret for the impossibility of owning the pup and accumulating marks against your record for slang!" hinted the Guide.
"Oh, well, I don't just care a fig! there now! If I only had a dog like this Wickee, I wouldn't say another slang-word in my whole life, really! But what's the use of caring when you haven't got a pet as cute as this one!" Zan grumbled and pouted until she was on the verge of tears. Miss Miller had a hard time to keep a straight face.
"If Mr. Hamilton could only see and hear you now, he would rather lose his dollars than disappoint you," laughed Elena.
Bill's face showed in the dark of the woods just then, and the girls halted their play to ask what was said about the pup.
"Mr. Hamilton swore at first, saying he never could keep this pup home. He was always getting lost. Then he said, "Bill, I promised the doctor a pup of the next good strain we raised here, didn't I, in return for saving the prize collie's life last year. S'posing I give that pup to the girl – if she wants him, and my debt will be paid!"
"I says t' him, Miss Zan will be much obleeged, I'm sure."
"He says, 'All right, tell her the deal is closed – the dog's hers.'"
Bill looked blinkingly at Zan and Miss Miller, and Zan gave a shout as she fell down on the grass and threw her arms about Wickee. So, that's the manner of Wickee joining the camp.
CHAPTER TEN
THE LETTER THAT SAVED NITA
Soon after breakfast on Saturday morning, Bill signalled for Miss Miller's attention. She went to the edge of the Bluff and he called up through a paper megaphone (a device of the Guide's) that the butcher wagon was waiting in front of his house.
"Come and help me select the meat, girls," said Miss Miller, as she ran to the cupboard for a platter. Assuring herself that she had her pocketbook, the Guide hurried down the slope, followed by the girls laughing at the idea of six people going to select one piece of meat!
The butcher was a good-natured man eager to please a good customer. He had heard with dismay, that the doctor's family was going to spend the summer at the seashore, for the doctor always bought plenty of meat and paid cash for it, too. As many of his customers bought meat in exchange for produce, or made the man wait until they could sell farm truck before paying him, he felt a great relief when Bill told him of the party coming to camp at the farm.
"Good morning, Mr. Balsh. Have you any good shin-meat for soup?" asked Miss Miller, having been introduced by Mrs. Sherwood.
"No shin, ma'am, to-day, but I've got a good piece of flank – or a chunk of round. How will that do?" he asked anxiously.
The girls tittered at the queer terms for meat, and Miss Miller examined the flank carefully. Then, turning to the round, she asked, "How much is this a pound?"
"Twenty-two, ma'as! Same as city markets without addin' cost of haulin' or express."
"Oh, but you ought to charge extra for any cost you have to bear. Your buyers would be willing to share any extra expense," said Miss Miller.
"Yah! I knows it, but, you see, it's just this way! A new butcher starts up in town and calls upon all my customers what I have served for years. He tells them what he kin sell meat for, an' they says to me, 'Mr. Balsh, eider you gives us the same price, or we don't buy!' What should I do, ma'am?"
"That's true!" sighed Miss Miller. "Unfair competition is the ruination of all business. Most likely his quality of meat was not to be compared to yours!"
"You're a smart womans, ma'am! That's just what it tis. His meat, what he would sell my customers, what trust me for years, phew! Ma'am, excuse me, but I must tell you – it tis all bad!"
The girls had to laugh at the disgusted face on the butcher. "But I trust he didn't get any of your people from you?" added Miss Miller.
"Some few – what never paid me on time, anyways. The odders all stuck! But I tells you, I had to come down with my good meat, to his prices for bad meat!" and the poor man sighed loudly as he folded his fat arms over his rubicund form.
The round steak spread out for inspection was not what the Guide wanted. She wanted a sirloin. "I carry a few for my fancy customers. Folks like Mrs. Sherwood's always buys round."
A fine cut was chosen, Miss Miller showing the girls why she took a steak that had very fine veinings of fat all through it. The colour was a fresh red and a goodly-sized tenderloin lay along the long narrow bone.
The sirloin was twenty-six cents a pound; the girls all stared when they heard that the steak – for one dinner – would cost almost a dollar of their camp fund.
Miss Miller selected two pounds of flank-beef and the butcher gave her a quantity of bones for nothing. The beef cost sixteen cents a pound. She pointed out the difference between top-round, flank, and shin meat, for soup. The girls had learned more in one morning about the meat they ate than they ever thought of knowing all their lives.
"If we planned to make 'beef roll' which is very nice cut cold, or with brown gravy, we would use a piece of flank. The shin meat makes the most nourishing soup, I think. I believe some folks say the flavour of flank-beef is too strong to be good, but I will leave you to judge of the quality when you taste it."
"I have a little chunk of top-round here, ma'am, that I want to get rid of. I am most through with my route for to-day an' will sell this cheap."
The butcher picked up a small piece of beef and weighed it. "It's two and a half pounds – you can have it for forty cents, ma'am."
"That is a bargain – I'll take it," said Miss Miller.
The meat was given to different girls and the wagon continued down the road, while the Band returned to the Bluff, Miss Miller carrying a large enamelled pot Mrs. Sherwood gave her as they passed the back-door.
"How did the pot happen to be down at Sherwoods'?" asked Zan wonderingly.
"Mrs. Sherwood says she generally uses it for boiling jelly to send to your mother. It is large and doesn't scorch as easily as a tin or copper kettle."
At camp the Guide placed the purse in her tent and then called Hilda to come to the fire-place with her. "You saw me build a fire the other day, so I want you to do it now. I will have to hunt for a stronger cross-stick to hold the soup-pot. When water and all this meat is in, it will be heavy for the small stick we are now using."
In a short time, Miss Miller came back to the Bluff with a satisfactory piece of wood in her hand. The girls were watching Hilda trying to light the fire without success.
After a short examination of the cause, the Guide said, "You haven't cleaned out the ashes from this morning."
"But you left your ashes in the other day," said Hilda.
"Ah, but that was when we first began our fire-pit. A small quantity of ashes always makes a better heater. But too much of anything is worse than none!"
As soon as some of the ashes had been removed and a new trial made of lighting the dry wild-wood material, it succeeded.
Elena was told to wash the bones and soup meat carefully by the willow bank, and Nita was sent to pare the vegetables the Guide placed before her. Jane and Zan were told to go to the house with the sirloin steak to keep it on the ice in the pantry.
"We must either have Bill move that ice-chest over here or we must build one for daily use," said Miss Miller, as she thought of the convenience it would be to have a larder at hand.
"What's the use carrying the meat there now? While you and the other girls are preparing the soup and things, Jan and I can hook Cheokee to the traces and use him to haul the ice-chest over here. We can tilt it over onto the wheels of the express wagon and tie it securely. When we get to Bill's, his plough horse can haul it up instead of Cheokee."
"Splendid! Zan, I almost wish I could rub out those marks for slang, and give you a merit instead, for all of your helpful ideas," said Miss Miller.
"That reminds me – we haven't held our daily Council yet. When we do, I have a proposition to make," said Zan, smiling as she ran off through the woods.
The ice-chest proved a welcome addition to the camp furniture, for most of the food could be kept inside and keep marauding ants and flies away from it.
Miss Miller placed the bones, soup-meat and the chunk of flank and top-round in the big pot, with vegetables cut in small pieces, salt and pepper, and a gallon and a half of water, thrown in last. The pot was filled to the brim until it began to boil slowly. Then, a slow fire was kept going under the pot until the soup was done – about four hours' time.
The top-round was left in for an hour, and when the Guide took it carefully out of the pot, it was half-cooked through.
"What are you going to do with it – it's only half done?" said Zan.
"We're going to have it for dinner, and save the steak for to-morrow. Now, you all watch and see how I make a juicy pot-roast of this beef."
That noon the Band had the beef, string beans, lettuce and rhubarb. A dinner fit for a prince – so they said.
At the Council that day Zan made her proposition. "Miss Miller suggested that we each receive a demerit for slang. Now, I firmly believe that something should be given to offset those marks, so I propose that for every helpful idea given the Band, we be permitted to erase a demerit, or be given a merit to balance the final reckoning!"
The Guide's eyes twinkled at the plan, for she saw the zeal the girls were feeling in the work. She thoroughly approved Zan's suggestion, as it would prove an incentive to sharpen their wits as well as refrain from slang talking.
As the motion was carried unanimously it was entered in the Tally Book as one of the rules of the camp.
At the adjournment of the Council some one suggested that they all walk over to Hamilton's and thank the owner for presenting Wickee to them.
"Then we won't get back in time to swim!" objected Nita.
"Why not hitch up Cheokee and drive over?" said Zan.
"Better still, let me drive Cheokee over and you girls walk the required distance in the hour and win a coup; on the return we can drive and get back in time for a swim, too!" advised the Guide.
"Fine! That's a go!" cried Jane eagerly.
Every one approved so the hikers were soon on the way to winning another coup for walking. Being fresh, eager, and the road shady and hard, the walk was a delight, except to Nita, who, on account of wearing French-heeled shoes, had to give up for that time and ride the last two miles in the surrey. Miss Miller permitted Cherokee to walk slowly behind the girls and the others arrived at Hamilton's farm without realising the distance walked.
Mr. Hamilton escorted the girls over the place, showing the kennels and many valuable dogs. Then Mrs. Hamilton had them sit on the verandah while she served them with home-made ice-cream.
On the drive back to camp, Jane was learning how to guide the horse and Zan sat beside her. Miss Miller sat in the back seat so Zan had to turn to look at her as she said, "Miss Miller, I need a merit badly! I have a suggestion for the benefit of the whole camp!"
The other paid attention and Jane pulled up the reins so unexpectedly that Cheokee thought he was meant to stop, so he halted in the middle of the road. No one noticed it then.
"We have oodles of ice at the farm and we all love ice-cream, so I suggest that we send home and borrow our four-quart freezer!"
While the girls "ahed" and "ummed," Miss Miller laughed heartily. "You subtract a mark with a suggestion and add one with a slang word!" said she.
"Why, how!" frowned Zan.
"Didn't you realise it? Then it shows how unconsciously this habit has taken root. You said just now, 'oodles of ice.'"
"But that isn't slang! That's English!" remonstrated Zan.
"You'll not find it in any authorised dictionary."
"Well, I've heard the boys use that term so many times that I was sure it was English," sighed Zan.
"But, remember, most of the slang you have acquired has been the result of hearing it from your brothers. So, I would not quote them as critics of English," laughingly said the Guide.
"Well, is the suggestion approved by all?" returned Zan.
"Yes, indeed, that goes without saying!" returned the girls unanimously.
"Then we get ice-cream hereafter, but I miss my merit!" laughed Zan, turning about and chirping to Cheokee to wake up.
The swimming that afternoon was fine, as the sun had neared Pine Tree Knob before the girls were ready. Wickee had been impatiently awaiting their appearance and the moment one of them came from the tent, the collie jumped about and yelped with glee. He accompanied the Band to the pool and watched them go in, but he sat on the grass and would not be persuaded to bathe.
"He's got to come in – we need him to give us lessons," cried Elena, starting for the dog. But Wickee must have understood, for he sprang in before any one could approach him.
He swam about enjoying the bath thoroughly and when he had circled the pool several times, he came near Zan and wanted to play. He snapped at her hair as it floated on the water, and tagging hard, ducked her under, so that she had to catch hold of his leg to make him let go.
Then, seeing Hilda and Elena trying to swim a few yards, Wickee caught hold of a floating stick of wood and carried it to Elena. The stick caught in her hair and she, too, went under.
Wickee then tried to catch Hilda's sleeve, but she was too quick for him, and was on her feet before he could get hold of her.
After an hour of fun, Miss Miller warned the girls of the time, and went toward her tent. After a few more plunges, the girls came out; Wickee shook himself and flopped down on the warm rock to dry.
At supper, Miss Miller said, "To-morrow is Sunday. We will observe the day in the way we have been taught. If any one feels it is not right to take a little plunge in the pool, or go for a walk, or anything we do daily, let that one follow her own conscience. I, for one, will take my usual bath, and read in the morning. After dinner, I will join any one who wishes to go for a short walk. After supper I expect to sit and enjoy the sunset and the twilight."
"We will do the same, Miss Miller," said the girls, so the question of the Sabbath was quietly decided once for all.
The girls all spent the Sabbath morning writing letters home, and to friends. Zan's letter was composed mostly of exclamations of delight over camping and requests for her mother to send various articles to the camp before she left for the beach. The ice-cream freezer was mentioned not less than four times throughout the letter, so you can see that Zan never refused a treat of ice-cream if she had an opportunity to accept any.
Monday morning the postman left several letters in the mail-box in front of Sherwoods' house. Zan saw him going down the Bridge road and called to Miss Miller, "I'll run down and see if he left any mail for us!" And was off before any one could wink.
Coming back to camp, she displayed a number of letters, among them, one for Miss Miller from her father, and another for Nita, post-marked at the adjoining post-office.
"Who do you know down around here?" queried Zan, looking at the writing.
"None of your business – give it to me!" snapped Nita, angrily, grabbing the letter from Zan's hand.
"Pooh! I should worry!" sneered Zan, also angry. "The writing looks just like Bob's did when he was ten years old! I'd find some one who could write a decent hand!"
Zan was not aware of the fact that she had touched upon a tender subject between Nita and Miss Miller, and Nita did not dare answer while the Guide stood there; but Miss Miller said to Zan, "It really is too bad that you are piling up bad marks on your page! That slang just used ought to have ten marks given you." The tone in which sentence was pronounced was worse for Zan to bear than all the marks ever thought of.
Miss Miller walked away to her tent, there to read her letter in peace, but Zan felt heartily ashamed of her anger and was willing to ask pardon. Nita, however, had gone up the path through the ravine. Be it known that she had her letter in her middy blouse, however.
In the privacy of her tent, Miss Miller opened the letter which was a reply to the one she had sent the doctor. It was as follows:
"My dear Miss Miller:
I read with deep concern the information you sent I called upon Mrs. Brampton immediately and had a long talk with her about Nita's disease – for it is a disease finding its birth in the mental realm. Mrs. Brampton cried of course, and then told me of a great deal of the worry she has had during the last two years. I have been called in now and then to prescribe for Mrs. Brampton or Nita, while Mr. Brampton has his own doctor downtown whenever he thinks he needs medical advice. Nita has not been ill in the past two years, and Mrs. Brampton has only called upon me for minor ailments, so I have not had occasion to have any serious talks with Nita's mother about the girl's well-being. I heard, with regret, that she had developed a dangerous habit of secrecy from her mother and friends. She dislikes to take part in anything that calls for physical exercise, deep thinking, or help for others. She is continually making excuses for shortcomings and has recently been misrepresenting truth to her mother as the easiest way to account for her time and actions. I think that I would have separated my girl from such companionship had I known the evil to be guarded against. As it is, I wonder if it is best for all at camp to continue having an influence such as Nita creates, about you. It will be your duty to decide; all I can do now is to assist in any way you may need my services.
"One extenuating reason for the girl's behaviour, I think we ought to take into consideration. Her mother told me of Nita's early years. The child was ushered into this world under unfavourable conditions. Mrs. Brampton is a very delicate woman and the baby had no strength with which to start the battle of life. All prepared foods disagreed with the stomach and the frail little child was merely a skeleton until after a year's time. It then became noticeable that the child was gaining slowly in health, strength and general behaviour. From the second year on, Nita grew much the same as other children, but always seemed two years behind the average normal child.
"At ten years, when I first was called to diagnose an illness of the girl's, I was surprised to find how matured she was in her ways and speech – all of which showed me that her thoughts were too mature for her age. Instead of a teasing, fun-loving child I found a quiet, indolent-loving young lady who constantly ate candy and read books five years in advance of her age. I told her mother than, that Nita needed tom-boy companions to interest her in physical development, and more bread and butter, with possibly a bit of jam spread on it now and then, instead of sweets, highly-seasoned salads and desserts, and the wine that Mr. Brampton always has with dinner. He has always been amused to see his little daughter sip from his glass and Mrs. Brampton told me that she could see no harm in having a child accustomed to wine, just the same as my children are accustomed to water at our table. In fact, she said that she pitied children who were never permitted to taste drinks and then went all to pieces when they grew up and went out into the world to be tempted with alcohol and tobacco.
"I found that she was not capable of discerning facts from fancy, so I did not waste more time trying to explain then; but I told my daughter to try and wean the girl from undesirable habits, and I often invited Nita to visit at our home. Perhaps, this was a mistake. It remains to be seen whether Zan has enough character and self-control to come out of contamination without a scar."
At this point of the long letter, Miss Miller looked out of the tent-opening and smiled, murmuring, "I think any child that sensible man trains can associate with and not become contaminated by evils."
Miss Miller continued reading the enlightening lines after a few moments' thought.
"Two years after my first introduction to Nita's family I was called again to examine the girl. That was when she was twelve. I found that Mrs. Brampton failed to follow my directions regarding food and sleep. She said it was such a nuisance to argue with Mr. Brampton and Nita over the wine and viands that would give a high-liver chronic indigestion, to say nothing of a delicate child! She also said that she remonstrated with Nita about sitting up late reading stories and always nibbling candy. But Nita had a will of her own! And the past year the dear child had been invited to such nice parties that she (the mother) was glad to have her meet more friends of her own or a much higher class, consequently health was sacrificed to social ambition. She explained at the time, what a graceful dancer Nita was and how people loved to have her attend evening dances and exhibit her gift for their pleasure. There was no use trying to disguise the truth which was self-evident: Mrs. Brampton was a foolish proud mother to whom flattery of anything her child did was incense at her own altar. Instead of the girl being tucked into flannelette nighties with feet so she could kick all night in bed without cold from exposure, she was flossed up in organdy and tulle ruffles with white silk stockings and shoes and shown off at dances – all for vain-glory.
"The vicious training – I mean bad, senseless, evil influence, by that word vicious – of her life had actually developed a backward delicate organism into matured girl-hood three years in advance of what is normal.
"I watched with deep interest this product of senseless motherhood for I was eager to help others by comparison with the results of my own endeavours. I often visited, without being called upon, to direct and help the girl to a better status of health and aspiration. I do not think I succeeded very well. I had the parents' foolishness to battle again. Perhaps I laid the seed of a higher life which will grow and bud during your care this summer, while her parents are out of reach. It is to be hoped for. This makes it a matter of deepest thought before she is sent back home without further trial. But at the same time others are to be considered.
"I believe the habit of taking a tiny drink of wine at dinner has resulted, during the last two years, in chronic intermittent heart-beat and accelerated circulation. This will, or has, induced inflammability of the brain which, in turn, has acted upon organs supposed to be dormant for years to come. The trashy novels Nita has been permitted to read have also caused high-tension thoughts foreign to all nature. Even an adult of experience and self-control is not benefited physically or mentally by reading or watching a play, based on immoral emotions, or the suggestions of them.
"Now the question confronts us – you and me – has the atmosphere hitherto surrounding the girl been so subtle in its evil influence that it is past coping with? Or can we, by taking deep thought of ways and means, convert this individual who is on a steep descent toward licentious living and later, chronic invalidism, to be eventually claimed by some frightful disease as payment in full for ungodly habits, into a physical success – one who desires clean living, simple loving, and pure thinking!"
