Kitabı oku: «The Woodcraft Girls at Camp», sayfa 2
"Humph! And she is the one I expect more from than all of you combined!" said the doctor, thoughtfully.
"Oh, you know Nita, Dad! She'll want to leave the next day when she finds there aren't any boys about to flirt with. And the very idea of her helping at the camp work makes me laugh! If she lasts a full week, I'll miss my guess!" replied Zan, tossing her bronze hair.
"Zan, do you want to do Dad a great favour?" asked the doctor, anxiously.
"Now you know, Dad, I'd eat my head off for you!" cried Zan, throwing her arms about her father's neck and squeezing him.
"Then watch your words and acts regarding Nita – be most considerate of her and have patience! She is mentally diseased and no one realises that she needs healing. This experience with four healthy-minded girls may prove her salvation in after life. I am putting it up to you, Zan, to see that your nursing of this peculiar invalid does not tend to prolong the malady, but will nip the growth of the trouble in its present stage. Perhaps a few months hence would be too late, and a cure would be impossible. I rely on you, daughter, to help in this cure!"
Zan's brothers, Frederick, nicknamed Fiji on account of his unmanageable hair, and Bobs, short for Robert, had left the dining-room to study their lessons. Mrs. Baker, the doctor and Zan remained, so that an uninterrupted silence followed the serious words of the doctor.
Zan sighed heavily, and finally looked up at her father with a bright smile. "I'll do it, if it takes all the spice out of camp-life!"
The doctor smiled as he replied, "It won't, Zan! In fact, you'll have all the better fun for knowing in your own heart that you are doing a duty as well as pleasing your Dad!"
"And while the boys and I are enjoying the days at the beach, I will feel happier than otherwise, to know you are showing your companions what real joy and contentment means when found in natural out-door living," added Mrs. Baker.
CHAPTER TWO
CHOOSING A CAMP SITE
Boxes were shipped, tents and cots had been sent, and the hundred and one last items always remembered on the day of departure had been attended to, when Miss Miller met her five charges at the Pennsylvania Terminal, where they expected to take a train to reach the junction in New Jersey. At Junction they would have to change and take a local train before arriving at the insignificant station ten miles from Wickeecheokee Farm.
As the train whizzed by well-cultivated farms, magnificent estates, and later, through beautiful, wooded hills, fertile valleys, and over sparkling waters, the bevy of eager girls exclaimed delightedly at every new scene. A recent shower had cleared the atmosphere, and the verdure shone a brilliant green in the bright sunshine. Birds soared high above tree-tops, singing joyously, while cattle moved leisurely, grazing over the pastures seen in passing.
"Oh, my, but it feels good to be out of the hot dusty city!" sighed Jane, leaning back in the seat and inhaling the fragrant air.
"Yes, I can actually think – away from trolleys and rumble of trucks," added Zan, pensively.
"That's a novelty for you!" teased Hilda, smiling.
"I can hardly believe my eyes! It seems too good to be true – a whole summer with no one to pester you about sickness!" said Elena, with relief expressed on her face.
Miss Miller smiled, but she wondered what the mothers would think if they but knew how glad their girls were to get away from nagging foolish worry. How much better to recognise in each girl of their age a certain amount of responsibility for themselves, and guide by example or suggestion, instead of demands or coercion.
"Next station is Junction – change cars for all stops on the Rahway River branch!" shouted a brakeman from the platform.
"So soon! Why, it doesn't seem like an hour and a half, does it?" exclaimed Zan.
"Why, no! I thought we were only half way there!" replied Miss Miller, as the girls hastily gathered their baggage together.
The party hurried off, and across the platform to a waiting local train on a side-track. The engine and coaches were old-fashioned, the windows small and set high from the floor. The girls laughed at the sight of such cars, and climbed up the high narrow steps to the platform.
Farmers constituted the majority of the passengers and the city girls were amused at the different types presented before them.
"Girls, let's open these windows immediately! Mercy, how can any one sit in these stuffy cars with the crevices all stopped to prevent a breath of fresh air entering!" exclaimed Miss Miller, impatiently.
The girls laughed, for it was one of the teacher's pet theories that plenty of fresh air never injured anybody.
The farmers looked askance, however, when the pleasant air circulated through the car and drove forth the obnoxious odours.
Many of the travellers left the train at small way-stations and Miss Miller's party had the car all to themselves during the last few miles of the ride. Zan recognised the land-marks that showed her they were almost through with their journey, and she ordered the girls to get ready to leave the car.
Bill Sherwood had been notified that the party would arrive at noon, and had his team and farm-wagon waiting at the station when the would-be campers jumped down and looked about in high spirits. Zan introduced each one to Bill, while the latter grinned and held his palmetto hat circling in his toil-hardened hands.
Straw had been piled in the bottom of the wagon and the girls were lifted over the great wheel and dropped into the soft straw. Miss Miller was accorded the distinction of sitting on the high spring seat beside the driver. She held her breath in trembling and grasped the edge of the rocking seat whenever Bill turned a corner or gave way to a passing vehicle on the narrow road.
The drive over the hills was beautiful and Bill pointed out various spots along the road and explained the value of soil, herbage, and trees.
After seven or eight miles had been covered, the horses began ascending a steep hill well-timbered.
"When we get to the top of this climb you will get one of the loveliest views we have about here," said Zan.
"Yes'm," assented Bill, "and there's where you kin spy th' farm, too."
"Then we must be almost there," ventured Miss Miller, whose seat on the loose spring board was anything but comfortable.
"No'm, not by four mile more. The gent what ust t' own th' farm afore th' doctor got it, ust t' say, 'Bill, this air th' longes' four mile I ever hope t' travel!'" and Bill chuckled to himself as the team strained at the haul up the steep road.
Long before the travellers reached the farm every one was stiff and glad enough to jump out of the wagon. But Bill warned them to wait yet a while longer – he had pictured to himself the grand manner in which he would sweep between the two stone posts and flourish his whip as the wagon rolled up to the front porch. To permit the girls to jump out prematurely, would spoil his pleasure.
Having accomplished his ambition, he stood by the horses and grinned while the visitors exclaimed at everything they saw.
"What a gem of an old house!" cried Miss Miller.
"And that grand old oak in front – just see how far its branches sweep over the lawn!" cried Jane.
"Look, girls! Look! The original 'old oaken bucket that hangs in the well!'" sang Hilda, as she saw Zan at the long sweep that worked the bucket.
"It surely is lovelier than anything I ever dreamed of," sighed Elena, her artistic sense, for once, gratified.
Groups of fruit trees, some squat and thick, some tall and slender, vied with elms, maples, oaks, and beech trees, in giving beauty and shade to the grounds about the house. Some distance back of the house stood a group of barns, sheds, and a tool-house. The grassy space between was laid out in a croquet ground and tennis courts. Directly back of the out-buildings was a fine kitchen garden and small-fruit bushes and vines. The narrow strips dividing the vegetable patches were a mass of blossoming old-fashioned perennials. The fragrance wafted from stocks, sweet-peas, petunias, pansies and other flowers, attracted bees and honey-birds of every species common in Jersey.
"Rickon you'se ain't sorry t' git 'ere?" laughed Bill.
"Indeed we're not! Travelling all day is as tiresome as working all day," admitted Miss Miller, taking her bag from the back of the wagon.
"Wall, I'll be goin' on t' th' little house, but I'll be on hand ef yuh need me fur anything," said Bill, after he had deposited all the baggage on the porch of the house.
"We're going to sleep indoors to-night and start our camp in the morning, so the only thing we might need will be some milk and butter," said Miss Miller.
"I put two quarts o' milk an' a pound o' butter, an' a dozen o' eggs, in th' ice-chest that stan's in th' back porch," explained Bill, still hesitating.
"Ice! Do you have ice here?" wondered Jane.
"Shure! Th' doctor built a small ice-house th' fust year he hed th' place an' we cuts enough ice from th' pond to fill it every year. Th' pond is fine spring water, y' know, an' th' ice is clear as crystal," explained Bill.
"That's what Wickeecheokee means, you know, – Crystal Waters. Of course, it's an Indian name that Daddy found in some old archives kept in the County Hall at the Junction," said Zan.
"We've taken your word for Crystal Waters but I haven't seen a drop of it so far except what was drawn from the well," laughed Miss Miller.
"Plenty of it when th' Spring freshets come down Old Baldy," chuckled Bill, climbing up to the wagon seat.
"Going home, Bill?" asked Zan, as the farmer gathered up the reins. "Well, thanks, ever so much, for coming for us, and remember me to your wife. Tell her we'll be over there soon," said Zan.
"Oh, that reminds me, Bill, I brought a little present for you and the wife – wait a moment until I open my bag!" exclaimed Miss Miller, going to the porch and taking two packages therefrom.
"Mighty much obliged, ma'am!" said Bill, doffing his wide-brimmed hat, obsequiously.
As soon as the girls were alone Zan unlocked the front door of the house and ushered her companions inside a long living-room. A chimney-piece embraced seven feet of space just opposite the door and the wide cavern of brick fire-place presented a cheery picture to one who could imagine its blaze and crackle of hickory logs while sparks, and tongues of flame, leaped up the chimney on a frosty night!
The girls examined books and pictures while Miss Miller went into raptures over the old mahogany settee, the tilting table, real Sheraton bookcase and chairs, and a Boston rocker. She tried each in turn, then spied a grand-father's clock in the corner, and marvelled at the old wooden works which were strung with cat-gut.
Zan laughed at the different expressions of surprise on her guests' faces, and when the teacher drew forth an inlaid sewing-table, exclaiming at the beauty of the lines, she explained: "Muzzer loves to ride about the country collecting old furniture. Dad made all manner of fun at first, but he, too, caught the germ, and now he will go for miles when he hears of some old family that is scattered and wishes to sell out. The boys and I have stood on the porch and doubled over laughing at the spectacle Dad and Muzzer have made, trying to drive through the gateway while a long carved post of an old mahogany bedstead stuck fast between the gate-posts!"
"What a shame it is to hide these really precious pieces down here! I love antique furniture when it is good and genuine, and I could almost cry to think no one ever sees these!" said the teacher, examining a Colonial Connecticut spindle chair.
"Oh, but we do! And now, you are enjoying them, too!" laughed Zan. "Just come out to the dining-room if you want to see some real stuff!"
An old Colonial side-board, a massive round table, six Chippendale chairs in excellent condition, and a linen-press, gave Miss Miller still further cause to exclaim. The entire scheme was most harmonious, for old braided mats lay upon the wide-boarded floors, wall-paper was of the quaint old-fashioned pattern, and a genuine Franklin heater stood in the corner in case of cool weather. A few logs thrown into its vast cavern, soon took the chill from the pleasant dining-room, Zan explained.
"I am afraid I shall prefer to stay here instead of going to the camp, Zan," ventured Miss Miller, ruefully.
"Then, you'd best sleep on the lawn to-night, for the bed-rooms present still further temptations!" laughed Zan.
The four girls had gone out of the side-door to see what adventures were to be found in the back-gardens, but at this point they ran in all duly excited, so the subject of antiques was abandoned until later.
"Oh, just think! Nita found a rabbit scuttling away. It disappeared down a hole!" cried Hilda.
"Come and see! Hurry up, Miss Miller!" added Nita.
Zan followed the girls, explaining the presence of the rabbit. "The boys started several warrens last summer. One is in the woods, one in the rear garden, and the other is over by the falls."
"I think I'd like to visit the river and falls, Zan, and judge for ourselves of the truth of the kodak picture!" said the teacher.
"Maybe some one's hungry – and the walk over to the woods takes some time," hinted Zan, looking at the others.
"Oh, we had plenty to eat on the train, and we can finish our sandwiches when we get back," answered Jane, eagerly. So the luggage was left on the porch where it had been placed by Bill, and a noisy group started off.
Over springy turf, under shady trees, climbing low walls that divided pastures from grain-fields, these city-bred girls went shouting from very exuberance of spirits.
At the farthest side of a buckwheat field stood a beautiful grove of maples. Zan headed straight for this grove and jumped the stone wall that enclosed the field.
"Hallo! The ground's full of springs! That means we'll have lots of sap next Spring!" said she, smacking her lips.
"Sap! What kind of sap?" asked the girls curiously.
"Why, maple sap, you ninnies! Didn't you know this was a sap-bush?" laughed Zan, looking at her companions to assure herself that they were in earnest.
"I never heard of a sap-bush! I don't see any bushes!" retorted Nita.
"Ha-ha-ha! It's these maples that give us the sap for maple-sugar. I bet there's lots of maple-sugar in the house this very minute. We always come here for a few days when the farmers boil the sap down. It's one of the sports of having a farm."
"Zan, you're a lucky girl! Not one of us ever had the chance of having all you have had!" murmured Jane.
"I just guess your folks could have had ten farms if you had wanted them, but you and your brother always wanted to go to fashionable places!" retorted Zan, truthfully.
They had reached the snake-fence that separated the maple grove from the woodland, and Zan immediately started climbing over the simple-looking barrier. She soon hopped off on the other side and turned to watch the others surmount the difficulty.
"What a queer-looking fence – why do they have two rows of rails?" asked Elena, while the others tried to reach the top rail.
"Dear me! how did you get over so easily, Zan?" called Nita, who constantly rolled back at each step.
"Ha-ha! it's a trick fence!" laughed Zan, doubling over with enjoyment at the different poses the girls were forced to take while they struggled with loose poles that would roll over.
Miss Miller stood on the ground and studied the problem for several moments. Then her face expressed understanding and she tried again. This time she did not lean her weight on the upper part of her body as she grasped the loose rails, but balanced on her feet, merely using her grasp above to steady her in climbing.
In a few seconds she reached the top rail, where there was no other hold. She had a choice of two ways: lay down on the length of top-rail and crawl down the other side or jump clear from a height of six feet. She chose the latter.
"How did you do it?" cried several voices.
Miss Miller laughed and joined Zan, who whispered, "You should have mounted at the cross-posts. See what a fine hold that gives you when you reach the top?" and Zan demonstrated her words by climbing back. The girls watched closely and, as Zan returned slowly for their benefit, they endeavoured to imitate her.
"Might as well overcome the first obstacle now as later – you'll find plenty of snake-fences to cross in the country," said Zan.
Nita and Hilda soon found the secret of balancing on the rolling poles, but Elena and Jane had several tumbles before they could scramble over.
A foot-path led through the woods and soon the girls heard the sound of falling water.
"That must be the river!" exclaimed Nita, eagerly.
"No, you hear the water of the Falls. I'm taking you to the Bluff first. We can stand there and see the pool, the stream above the Falls and the slope that goes down to the Big Bridge. We called the Falls 'Wickeecheokee Falls' and the stream, – which really is only a creek – 'Wickeecheokee River,'" replied Zan.
In a short time the eager adventurers came to a clearing in the woods and stood still admiring the scene presented.
Just before them, a rocky ledge projected over the Falls about ten feet above the lower level of the water. The Falls were only six feet from top to bottom, where the water formed a lovely pool. On the opposite bank, the ground rose gradually to about five feet above the water, and this bank was thickly carpeted with moss and bitter-sweet vines. The woods began with a close array of trees a few feet back from the stream, the straight timber presenting a dauntless front to the mites who stood gazing at them in admiration.
The Bluff, as Zan said the ledge of rock was called, extended from the Falls back forty feet to the pathway, finally burying itself under moss and thick grass, just where the girls stood. Above the Falls the ground rose gradually at first, then abruptly, with great boulders of rock jutting forth here and there. The swift-running stream cleft through the steep sides, thus forming a miniature canyon, and, where the rocks hung over the water, masses of lichen, arbutus, and creepers suspended in a tangled riot. The skyline was entirely hidden by the thick growth of forest trees.
The sweep downward from the Falls to the bridge had been cleared of undergrowth so that the view presented – fields of buttercups and daisies in the foreground and Bill Sherwood's farm-land and cottage by the road that ran over the Big Bridge – was a most decided contrast to the wild beauty of the woods and cliffs.
"Well!" sighed some of the girls, "No wonder Zan wanted to camp here!"
"Isn't it beautiful! It is more like an artist's ideal than actuality!" added Miss Miller.
"Daddy purchased the place from a well-known American artist," explained Zan, enjoying the appreciation of her friends.
"I don't see how he could bear to part with it – I would want to live here always!" added Miss Miller.
"I say that we choose the Bluff for our camp-site!" cried Nita, going over to the Falls.
"It certainly would be a splendid spot!" added some of the others.
"Well, we'll decide that later – I see Zan wants us to continue," said Miss Miller, as their guide crossed the stream by means of great flat stones.
"The boys and I made this stone crossing – and maybe we didn't have lame backs for a week after we carried these boulders!" said Zan, reminiscently.
For a full hour more, the city girls climbed steep hillsides or stumbled down wild ravines, stubbing toes on hidden rocks and catching unprotected hair in swinging branches, until all began to feel the fatigue of unused muscles and the effect of hard shoes on mother earth. When Miss Miller suggested supper, every one turned face homeward without a regret.
"We will have our ready-made supper that I brought with me in a box, and Zan can find the milk that Bill Sherwood left in the ice-chest," said Miss Miller, as they entered the cool living-room again.
"And I'll go down cellar and fetch some preserves – mother said we could use all we wanted," added Zan.
"O-oh! goody! just think of it – home-made preserves!" said Nita.
"We'll set the table, Zan, if you show us where to find the dishes, and show us the ice-chest. Nita can go down to help you with the preserves, if you like," said Miss Miller, unpacking a large pasteboard box filled with sandwiches, cake and fruit.
Before supper was quite ready the twilight had fallen, making it necessary to have a light.
"My gracious! I never gave a thought as to light! I am so accustomed to pushing the button and having light, that I quite forgot we had no electricity out here," laughed Miss Miller.
"Oh, pshaw! I forgot, too! I just hate to clean lamps and fill them with kerosene – your hands smell so dreadfully forever afterward!" grumbled Zan.
The other girls laughed but then they had never cleaned lampwicks nor had coal-oil soaked into the pores of their hands!
Zan pouted but made no move to find the lamps. Miss Miller felt sorry, for she knew how unpleasant the task could be, so she began to say, "Zan, I'll – " when she suddenly stopped.
She quickly left the room and went out on the porch to admire the soft tones of approaching grey in the night-sky.
"What's the matter?" exclaimed Zan, running after the teacher.
"Why, nothing, dear! I thought I would wait here until you had the lamps ready," returned Miss Miller, keeping a serious face with difficulty.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Zan, reminded of the distasteful work.
As the four other girls had absolutely no knowledge of lamps and their accessories, they could not be expected to offer to attend to them. Zan turned to the teacher and ventured, "I think we can use candles for to-night!"
Miss Miller looked at her charge out of the tail of her eye and bit her lips to keep from laughing.
"I'll go and hunt up some candles. Mother keeps them on the stone ledge of the cellar," sighed Zan, getting up from the step where she had momentarily sat down.
"Of course, I have no jurisdiction over you yet, as we have not formally organised a Lodge, but I know this much!" said Miss Miller, with decision in her voice; "I would not permit one of my Band to shirk a duty if it presented itself, no matter how disagreeable it appeared to be. Cleaning or filling kerosene lamps is not just cleaning and filling lamps for material use. Don't you know that, Zan?"
Zan looked up at her teacher in blank astonishment and her lips parted as if to speak, but she was silent for a moment.
Miss Miller watched her and waited.
"Why, what under the sun would we use lamps for if it were not for light?" exclaimed Zan, finally.
"Oh, as to the use of lamps – that is another thing. Yes, even an inanimate lamp fulfils its purpose well, doesn't it?"
Zan stared off into the darkness and pondered this.
"I se-ee!" whispered Zan, after a silent pause of some moments. "Miss Miller, I thank you!" and she ran indoors singing.
"Thank goodness, I didn't spoil that opportunity by offering to look after the lamps!" breathed Miss Miller, gratefully, to the Principle of right living.
Zan not only worked out her dislike for kerosene that very night, but she cleaned so many of the small glass lamps that the supper table was a twinkling circle of lights. As the girls sat about thoroughly enjoying the first meal in the country, Zan proved to be the gayest of the party. Several times she met the smile in Miss Miller's eyes and felt well rewarded for learning her first lesson in Woodcraft – even if it was the overcoming of distaste of a given duty!
The four other girls were appointed dish-washers but Jane demurred. "It's so dark and we're tired – why can't the dishes wait for morning light!"
"The morning has work of its own – any one who would eat must earn! You may leave the dishes till morning if you choose but then there will be no breakfast for that one who shirks!" said Miss Miller, a suggestion of authority in her tones.
"But we're out for fun! We don't want to have to do things unless we feel like it," argued Jane.
"I suppose you will say, 'the horrid old thing! She's just as mean as she used to be at school,' if I insist and teach you why a task must be done at the time given," ventured Miss Miller.
Jane flushed uncomfortably for she had entertained a faint suggestion of just such a thought about the teacher. But she looked bravely back at the smiling eyes and declared, "No indeed! I wouldn't be so rude as to say such a thing!"
"Did you girls ever stop to consider the power of our thoughts?" asked Miss Miller, beginning to pile the dishes up on a tray.
The girls, sitting comfortably about the table, looked questioningly at her.
Miss Miller had reached the side of the table where Jane's dishes waited. She took up the plate but leaned upon the high back of Jane's chair and continued to speak in a conversational voice.
"Here's something for all of you to experiment on now! See if any one of you can speak, act, or move a certain part of the anatomy, or even breathe, without first thinking the thing!"
Miss Miller stood waiting while the girls sat and gave their attention to the suggestion. After a few minutes of silence, Nita exclaimed, "How queer! I never thought of that before!"
"But, Miss Miller, we do not have to think to breathe! My lungs do that!" cried Zan, her education along medical lines showing in her words.
"Well, much of our physical action is all unconscious on account of generations of habit. But let one part of the organism fail to act, and see what ensues! Now, I have tried to learn how to allow my thoughts to take the helm of steering my human ship, and not let the different parts of my body control me. You see the ME of myself is not in bones, blood, or muscles. Neither is it to be found in my heart, brain, or any local part of this human temple. The ME is my right and ability given by God to express MYSELF. The only way I have found to do this best is by thinking right!"
Miss Miller paused to look around at the faces and see what impression her words had made. Each girl expressed interest; Nita incredulity, Zan amazement, Hilda keen delight, Elena vaguely reaching out for more, Jane intelligent understanding.
"What has all this to do with washing dishes?" asked Nita.
"I am leading up to that; I wish this Band to start at the very beginning to do things right. To do this, we must not do anything thoughtlessly, so the action of our thought on everything about us ought to be thoroughly understood. Anxious thought always produces undesirable effects, just as good, optimistic ones produce harmony and happy results. If one spends anxious thought on the body, or any particular function of the physical organism, that part feels the effect of the quality of thought and responds accordingly."
"But, Miss Miller, you just said we ought to think of our breathing and walking and acting – now you say our thoughts will interfere with those actions!" wondered Elena.
"Perhaps you did not quite get the meaning of my words, dear. I meant to convey to you that no action of the body could take place without YOU – the thinking part of you. When a dead body cannot move, or speak, or breathe, it is not due to anything lacking in bones, flesh, or muscles – they are just the same as in life. It is because the thought that operates and controls the temple is gone. Because functions of the body operate mechanically in response to your thought, I say, let them work freely and without interference just as long as they work harmoniously. But do not give any cause for action to be impeded. Never permit fear to enter your thought, as that instantly clogs the machinery of the body. Never waste valuable thought in wondering how to beautify your face, massaging for wrinkles, or leanness or flesh. That only makes matters worse, for instantly your thought carries its effect to the parts you worry over. Let good health and simple living bring about the desired results, and they will be lasting. But girls, I did not intend to give you all this preaching the first night, only I had to correct Jane's tendency to think wrong about dish-washing."
"Now, Miss Miller, how evasive!" laughed Jane, thinking the teacher was joking. "Dish-washing had nothing to do with your theory on thinking."
"Surely you can't expect me to continue the harangue!" returned Miss Miller, starting for the kitchen with a pile of dishes.
"I want to have you apply the lesson to my particular failure to think right about dish-washing!" laughed Jane, eagerly.
"Yes, yes! We all want to hear just how you can do it!" added the other girls.
"Why, just this, dears. We have had our food to nourish the body that must act at the suggestion of thought, and for this blessing we are grateful; for a weak, or impoverished body does not respond to the command of thought, no matter how willing it may be to act. After filling the receptacle for food one should not give way to lethargy – a common fault and inclination. Lethargy forms fat and soft muscles! Express your thanks to your thought and the benefit food gives the body, by obeying whatever dictates thought gives you for the perfect circulation of conditions. The dish-washing is a natural sequence of events following supper. So, I interpret it that thought has this work for us to do which will be sufficient exercise for us after a light supper. The very sense of having done with apparent duties for the night, will give your thought a comfortable relaxation while you sleep. The nagging idea that some work has been slighted or postponed, even though you may not be conscious of its effect upon you, will, nevertheless, cause a mental shrinkage and this in turn will draw your facial muscles into knots, and also cause unpleasant dreams. One who seeks repose with the sense of having completed all of the day's work with as conscientious application as is possible to him, will always find perfect rest in a sleep that renews one's physical being."
"That's enough for one night!" cried Jane, laughingly, placing her hands over her ears and running out to the kitchen.
