Lillian Roy - Natalie - A Garden Scout

Dear Girls Everywhere:

Perhaps you will like these country life books better for knowing that the incidents told in them actually happened to me in my girlhood days. I did not live on a farm such as Natalie’s, however, nor was my father a farmer. He liked to “putter” around the acre of ground after business hours, simply because he enjoyed such recreation. I was generally at his heels, and whenever a fruit-tree was being grafted, or a swarm of bees hived, you could always find me there, too, getting in Daddy’s way. If I was not in the garden, or at the barnyard, I would be shadowing my brothers who were my seniors. Scouts were unheard of in those days, but we hiked, camped, fished and did all the enjoyable stunts which you Scouts now do.

I have not the space here to tell you of some of the hair-raising “dares” my brothers tempted me to accomplish, but I will have to write them for you to read, some time. However, the stunts and the following results would never be termed ladylike, nor were they graceful. Freckles, tan, and tattered dresses were the bane of my mother’s life, and the inglorious title of “tomboy” failed to curb my delight in the freedom of country life. But, dear girls, I stored away a fund of health and experiences that I can now draw upon without bankrupting myself.

A keen desire, which I hope to realize soon, is to have a place like Green Hill, where you girls can come and camp for as long a time as you like. Then we can sit about the campfire and talk about the fun and frolics the out-of-door life gives us. Many a laughable experience will I then tell you. Until that time, dear girls, believe me to be an ardent admirer of and staunch worker for the Girl Scouts.

“Here comes Natalie Averill, girls!” exclaimed Janet Wardell, as a slender, pale-faced girl of fifteen came slowly down the walk from the schoolhouse door.

“My! Doesn’t she look awful?” said Frances Lowden.

“Poor Nat! I should say she did!” agreed Norma Evaston sympathetically.

“She looks as if the end of the world had come for her,” remarked Belle Barlow, the fourth girl in this group of chums.

“Not only the end of the world, but ‘the end of her rope,’ too,” added Janet, in a low tone so that no one else might hear.

“If it’s true – what mother heard yesterday – the end of Nat’s rope has come,” hinted Norma knowingly.

“What is it?” asked the girls anxiously.

“Nothing new for poor Natalie to suffer from, I hope,” said Helene Wardell, Janet’s younger sister and not a member of the clique of five girls, although she often walked to and from school with her sister.

“Well,” replied Norma, aware of her important news, “it is about the worst thing that can happen to a girl after she has lost mother and father. Mrs. James confided to mother last night that there isn’t a cent for poor Nat. The lawyer said that Mr. Averill kept up appearances but he had no capital. He must have spent all the money he made since Natalie’s mother died four years ago.”

“How perfectly dreadful for Nat!” cried Janet.

“After the luxurious manner of life she has had, too,” added Belle.

“S-sh! Not so loud, girls; she will hear us,” warned Helene, the tender-hearted.

“Did Mrs. James tell your mother what they would do?” whispered Frances anxiously.

“She said she would stay on with Natalie for a time, without salary, as she has learned to love her so. You know she has been her companion for four years! And Rachel declares she won’t go even if the world turns upside down,” returned Norma.

“Just like good old Rachel,” declared Belle.

“But they can’t live in New York without a cent of money, you know,” said Janet, with deep concern. “Folks have to pay rent and have something to eat, wherever they are.”

But there was no opportunity to discuss more of Natalie’s problems then, as the girl came up and joined her friends. Her whole carriage denoted utter discouragement, and her face was drawn into lines of anguish.

“Hello, Nat dear! What made you stay in after school?” asked Janet cheerily, placing an arm about the girl’s shoulders.

“I had to tell Miss Mason that I would not finish the term at school,” returned Natalie in a quivering voice.

“No! Why not?” asked several voices.

“Why, I expect to leave the city very soon.”

“Where to?” chorused her companions anxiously.

“Oh, girls! I hate to think of it, it is so awful after all I had hoped to do and be, for Daddy’s sake!” cried the girl, hiding her face in her hands.

Instantly four girls closed in about her and each one had a loving and sympathetic word of encouragement to say to her. In a few moments, Natalie dried her eyes and tried to smile.

“Janet will think it is wonderful, because she always did like a farm,” said she. “But the only choice in life now given me, is to move away to an outlandish farm up State, and leave all my friends and favorite pastimes behind. When I think of having to live all my days on a barren bit of land, I wish I were dead!”

Janet tried to change the subject. “What did Miss Mason say when you told her you would not complete the year here?”

“Oh, you know what a faddist she is over that Girl Scout organization! Well, she talked to me of nothing but my splendid opportunities of opening a Country Camp on the farm and renting out the woodland to girls who would be glad to use it.”

“But, Natalie, is it your own farm?” asked Janet and Norma.

“Why, of course! Didn’t I tell you about it?” cried the girl impatiently.

“No, we thought it was someone else’s farm – Mrs. James’, or Mr. Marvin’s, perhaps,” explained Belle, gently.

“It used to be my great-grandmother’s place. Mother was born there, but raised in the city. When grandmother died, Aunt stayed on there until she, too, died. Then it descended to mother, who leased it to a man for ten years. I have never even seen the horrid place, but I know it is a mile from anywhere on the map. Mr. Marvin says it is fine, and he wants me to go and live there.”

“It sounds all right, Nat, if the house is habitable,” remarked Janet, the practical girl of the group.

“I told Mr. Marvin to sell it for me, but he says I would be foolish to do that. He says I can live on it for some years and then sell it when I grow up and get more for it than if I sold it in its present condition. He says I could spend my summers there and try to grow strong and happy again, and in a few years he could ask a far better price for the property than would be advisable now. I reminded him of all the families who wanted homes, but he said the cost of building was so high that few sensible investors would consider buying an old house that needed remodelling. So there I am!”

“How big a house is it, Nat?” asked Janet, as a thought flashed through her mind.

“Mr. Marvin motored over there a few weeks ago, but I refused to go with him. Jimmy went, however, and has been raving over the place, ever since. I just had to tell her to keep quiet about it, or I’d run away from her.”

Helene laughed softly: “But that isn’t telling us how large a house you have on the farm!”

“What difference would it make?” retorted Natalie plaintively. “The very size of the barracks is a thorn in my side. It is a two-story affair, with long rambling wings. Jimmy says it is pure Colonial – whatever that means – and declares it is an ideal home.”

“Then, for goodness’ sake, Nat, why are you so glum? Any other girl would jump out of her skin for joy if she were left such a wonderful inheritance,” rebuked Norma gently.