ur country. Carl says it is silly, for we are not doing
anything for our country, but I'm sure we would if we could."

As Louise chattered away John looked around him. His motto hung in the
place of honor over the mantel. In front of this was a low platform
which dated back to Uncle William's time, and had often done duty for
tableaux and such things; on it were two chairs and a table for the
President and Secretary. Chairs for the audience were arranged in rows
facing this. It was a most exciting moment to John when Will took the
chair and called the meeting to order in a business-like way. Bess
read the minutes of the last meeting, and Ikey gave the Treasurer's
report. Then came reports from the two clubs, given respectively by
Elsie and Aleck. The M.Ks. were still at work on the afghan for old
Aunt Sallie, which was nearly done, and Miss Brown was reading aloud
to them "A New England Girlhood."

The G.Ns. had finished one of their screens and were at work on
another while they listened to "The Life of Washington."

"Next in order is the election of new members," said Will, and John
started and flushed and then felt ashamed that he could be so silly as
to think he was meant.

Jim rose and said, "Mr. President, I nominate John Armstrong."

This was seconded by Ikey, and the President continued: "John
Armstrong is nominated; all in favor will please say 'aye.'"

The "ayes" were overwhelming, and accompanied by such a clapping of
hands that the President forgot to ask for the "noes."

When it was quiet again John found voice to say timidly, "I'm afraid I
won't amount to much, but I am very much obliged and I'll try."

When Louise pinned a little silver key with a tiny bow of red, white,
and blue ribbon on his coat no Knight of the Garter was ever prouder
of his decoration.

The President announced that he had been told of a little girl who had
to lie on her back for a year on account of some spinal trouble, and
who had almost nothing to amuse her, so if anyone had scrap-books or
toys and would send them to her it would be helping.

John's eyes grew bright; here was something for him to do.

After this the meeting adjourned, the table and chairs were removed
from the platform, a white curtain drawn, the room darkened, and the
audience, such as did not take part, were treated to shadow pictures.

John, who had never seen any before, laughed till he cried at "Lord
Ullin's Daughter" and "The Ballad of the Oyster