a
favorite with her girl friends, and Jane Donovan, the daughter of the
Mayor of Dorfield and the youngest of the group here described.

These were the six girls who had entered the bond campaign and assisted
to complete Dorfield's quota of subscriptions, but there was one other
Liberty Girl who had been unable to join them in this active work. This
was Irene Macfarlane, the niece of Peter Conant. She had been a cripple
since childhood and was confined to the limits of a wheeled chair. Far
from being gloomy or depressed, however, Irene had the sunniest nature
imaginable, and was always more bright and cheerful than the average
girl of her age. "From my knees down," she would say confidentially,
"I'm no good; but from my knees up I'm as good as anybody." She was an
excellent musician and sang very sweetly; she was especially deft with
her needle; she managed her chair so admirably that little assistance
was ever required. Mrs. Conant called her "the light of the house," and
to hear her merry laughter and sparkling conversation, you would
speedily be tempted to forget that fate had been unkind to her and
decreed that for life she must be wedded to a wheeled chair.

If Irene resented this decree, she never allowed anyone to suspect it,
and her glad disposition warded off the words of sympathy that might
have pained her.

While unable to sally forth in the Liberty Bond drive, Irene was none
the less an important member of the band of Liberty Girls. "She's our
inspiration," said Mary Louise with simple conviction. Teeming with
patriotism and never doubting her ability to do something helpful in
defeating her country's foes, Irene had many valuable suggestions to
make to her companions and one of these she broached a few days after
the bond sale ended so triumphantly. On this occasion the Liberty Girls
had met with Irene at Peter Conant's cosy home, next door to the
residence of Colonel Hathaway, for consultation as to their future
endeavors.

"Everyone is knitting for the soldiers and sailors," said Irene, "and
while that is a noble work, I believe that we ought to do something
different from the others. Such an important organization ought to
render unusual and individual service on behalf of our beloved country.
Is it not so?"

"It's all very well, Irene, to back our beloved country," remarked
Laura, "but the whole nation is doing that and I really hanker to help
our soldier boys."

"So do I," spoke up Lucile. "Th