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"And think of her sticking her tongue out," exclaimed Grace. "Of all the rude tricks!"
"I do believe she would have punched me if she had dared," remarked Cleo.
"Well, she had better wait--just wait," said Louise with a threat in her voice. "We are sure to meet Letty again and then--just wait!"
"And the boy with the yellow paper," Cleo reminded her chums. "What about him?"
"There's plenty of yellow paper," replied Grace, "but of course he might be our fire-bug. He looked sort of unconscious."
"Didn't notice you looking at him, that _was_ queer," teased Louise.
"Oh, I think I saw your gray eyes rolling over in his corner," fired back Grace.
"Not even the entire volley brought him to his senses," put in Cleo, "for I must admit _I_ was looking over his way myself."
"Well, here we are. Thanks for the lift, Leonore," said Louise as the car stopped in front of the glistening white cottage, one of the show places of Sea Crest.
"Oh, how fine!" exclaimed Cleo. "Like Crystal Palace, so white and shiny."
And then began the third lap in their inspection of the summer cottages.
CHAPTER IV
MARGARET-BY-THE-DAY
"WHY shouldn't we do it?" argued Margaret, who with Julia had joined her chums at Sea Crest. "I think it would be just as much fun as playing a game, and heaps more useful."
"Mother would hardly allow us," drawled Cleo. "She might appreciate our courage, but to really try doing a washing!"
"Why not?" insisted Grace. "I'm just dying to try one of those motors. I think it would be almost as exciting as driving a car. Do let us Cleo.
You know how it works."
"Yes, I know how to touch the b.u.t.ton and turn on the switch, but how about making the starch?"
Everybody joined in the laugh that followed the admission of not knowing the common kitchen starch process, while having an idea of a modern electric appliance.
"That's what ails our domestic science cla.s.s. We study the washing machine, but omit the starch," said Louise. "Well, suppose we do just that and don't bother with the stiffness."
Teased into compliance Cleo led her chums to the out-of-door laundry, which was built as a part of the bathing houses just off the kitchen.
It might have been the lure of the nice new, white washing machine, with its buzzing electric motor, but whatever the cause the girls finally succeeded in winning Cleo's permission that they try it.
"I'm going to be boss," insisted Margaret, rolling up her sleeves with more gusto than seemed necessary, for in the process her fist came in contact with Cleo's eye.
The friendly bout that followed delayed the washing somewhat, but the scouts were at least on their way.
They had the log cabin all to themselves; and the manner in which they took possession might have been taken to indicate they had the world to themselves, for they made quite as much noise as a real troop, instead of the prospective summer troop they were forming themselves into.
"Now first," ordered Margaret, giving her skirt a very effective but unnecessary hitch, "first we sort the clothes."
"Ye-s--" agreed Julia. "But h-o-w?"
"Why just sort them, of course," evaded Margaret.
"Into nice neat little heaps," offered Cleo, stretching out a sheet on the narrow floor, and thereby doing deadly damage to the white muslin.
"I know that the table linen should be absolutely separate," declared Julia authoritatively, beginning on the small collection of table stuff.
"Please Grace, fetch me the basket."
"I need the basket for my collection," objected Grace. "Mine is much the most. I have the underlies," she catalogued, holding up a dainty hand-made camisole that was surely never intended to enter an amateur washing contest.
"Lovely," exclaimed Louise, dropping a pair of silk hose into the neat little pile of table linen.
"There," cried Margaret. "We surely didn't undertake this as an inspection. Let's get right at the wash, Cleo, please put some water in the machine."
"However do you do that?" asked Grace in genuine awe, for plainly the washing machine was not connected with any water faucet.
"Why, I have to put that hose on that tub over there and fill it that way," proudly explained the wash-day hostess. "I should think, Margaret, if you are going to be boss you would understand something of the system," she joked.
"Oh, I just love to be Margaret-by-the-day," answered the self-appointed supervisor, "but even she, you remember, did not know all about electric washing machines. Now let's see how the hose works."
But no need to see, they could _feel_, for the hose had slipped from its niche in the washing machine, and seemed to be pouring out volumes of water on everybody.
"Turn it off," shouted Louise, already pretty wet and surely getting wetter.
To save more direct contact Cleo had pointed the nozzle at the roof, and now a light shower was descending on the erstwhile washerwomen, and their pretty little piles of selected apparel.
Presently the faucet was reached and the hose properly directed into the cylinder, and while the water flowed in, Margaret put down the first batch, which was quite properly composed of the table linen.
"Now the washing powder," called Cleo. "Here it is all nicely stocked and ready. I think it should be very lightly sprinkled on."
"Oh no, never!" protested Louise. "That would simply eat holes in everything. You have to dilute it. I heard our maid say so."
"All right, I just as soon," agreed Cleo, giggling helplessly. "But go ahead and dilute. I'm having trouble enough here."
"Say," inquired Julia innocently. "I thought these electric washing machines did all the washing. Why don't they do it then?" and this afforded a new cause for laughter that simply demoralized the entire squad.
Finally Grace had diluted the washing powder and was pouring it over the linen, regardless of their lovely colored borders, that should never have known anything stronger than the purest soap. Then the cylinder cover was clapped on and fastened (Cleo understood the importance of this), and while all the girls stood at a safe distance she threw in the switch, and touched the b.u.t.ton.
Thereat the Girl Scouts' washing went on as merrily as a merry-go-round at a picnic.
"We can go out and play croquet while it washes," announced Cleo grandly. "That's the beauty of these washers."
They agreed that was real beauty, and off they romped to the brand new croquet set, to try their skill at pegging b.a.l.l.s under wire wickets.