The exclamation1 came in chorus from every Glenwood girl, and there was a low, moaning sort of echo-encore from the young man with the medicine case.
What should they do? They could not swim, that was certain, so they would have to wait.
To break the monotony of this wait we will tell our readers something of the other books of this series, and thus enable them to get a keener insight into the characters we are now following, as well as making a little bow of introduction to those we are meeting for the first time.
In the first book, entitled “Dorothy Dale; A Girl of To-Day,” we find the Dale family; the Major, an ideal, dear, kindly2 father; the two sons, Joe and little Roger, and Dorothy, the daughter. Tavia Travers, a girl of opposite temperament3 to that of Dorothy’s, is a great friend of the prettiest girl in Dalton, Dorothy Dale.12 Tavia is fearless and fearful; Dorothy is clear-minded, well balanced and capable. In this story is related how Dorothy gets a clew to the unlawful detention4 of a poor little girl, and in the parlance5 of those who use “quick” English—Tavia for instance—Dorothy “rounds up” the culprit and takes little Nellie away from a home of misery6 and poverty.
Our second volume was “Dorothy Dale at Glenwood School.” Glenwood School is situated7 in the mountains of New England, and the pupils there come from many parts of the country, even the South being represented. “Glen School” is not an asylum8 for the refuge of young girls whose mothers are “too busy” to bring them up. Neither are the girls there of the type who believe that boarding school life is a lark9, with original slang at each end; and an attractive centre piece about mid-way, devoted10 to the composition of verbal putty-blowers, constructed to “get even” with teachers; nothing of the sort. But there is time for fun, as well as for work and for adventure, and a time for girlhood walks, and talks in the shady ways of the pretty school.
This second story deals with the peculiar11 complications that so readily arise when girls and boys get on well together, in the wholesome12 sports of youth, until that other element, “Jealousy” makes its grim appearance. Then the innocent13 nonsense of Tavia, and the deliberate, open-hearted ventures and adventures of Dorothy, are turned about so as to become almost a tragedy at Glenwood.
In “Dorothy Dale’s Great Secret,” our third volume, there is a real secret. Not a little kindergarten whisper, but a matter which so closely affects Tavia’s career that Dorothy takes all sorts of risks to hold that secret from others, until the opportune14 time for explanation arrives.
“Dorothy Dale and Her Chums,” is the title of the fourth book. This is a real story—a plot that deals in mystery and adventure, of a gypsy girl in a cave, stolen goods, and so many thrilling mysteries that Dorothy was kept busy solving them.
Then “Dorothy Dale’s Queer Holidays,” shows how very queer some holidays may be, indeed, when girls and boys unite to discover the mystery of an old castle, where they eventually find and rescue an aged13 and demented man. But this is not accomplished17 without stirring adventures, not the smallest of which was the night spent in the old mansion18, when the young folks had been overtaken by so heavy a snowstorm that their automobile19 could not make its way back to North Birchland. The two cousins of Dorothy, Nat and Ned, with other boy friends, protected14 the frightened girls until rescue finally came at almost daybreak.
The story of a mistaken identity is told of in the sixth volume of the series, “Dorothy Dale’s Camping Days.” To be mistaken for a demented girl, captured and held in the hot, blistering20 attic21 of a farmhouse22, then taken to a sanitarium, where Dorothy is really believed to be the girl who escaped from that institution, was surely an ordeal23 for Dorothy. But not less is the latter part of that story, where the real sick girl is found by our friends, Dorothy and Tavia, and the joyous24 conclusion of her complete recovery, and the opening of a new life to this girl, so dear to her mother’s heart, and so loved by her friends, make up for all the suffering.
So Dorothy Dale has had some experience, and we hope, in the present volume, she will sustain her reputation, as that of the up-to-date girl, with will power and ambition, “tied with a little blue bow of sentiment.”
We left them at Strathaway Bridge, and night is coming, as it always does come, just when there are so many daylight things to be done.
In the excitement that followed the announcement that the bridge was down, and the train could not cross the river until morning, all the water that Tavia had inadvertently poured down Jean Faval’s neck was dried up in the heat of15 gulped25 exclamations26. Even Jean left her seat and joined the conversation on ways and means that were being held in the seats on the opposite side of the car. There were so many suggestions—some wanted to bribe27 the porter for sleeping quarters, as the trip to Glenwood did not originally require such a luxury; Rose-Mary wanted to get permission to “run” one car for the “Glens,” and camp out in it; Tavia wanted to get up a committee on food-quest, with time-table drinking cups apiece. Dorothy thought it might be a good idea to consult the conductor and have an official statement. The gentleman (“King” they called him now) excused himself, and left the girls so forlorn, all alone there, in a heaped-up convention, that Tavia declared he was a card sharp, and that Ned would get blood poison from the bandages he had put on her wrist. Moreover, Tavia also declared that he had gone forth28 to “trim” the scared car people at that minute. “For,” she said, her bronze hair fairly showing electrical sparks, “any one would do anything in a case like this. No place to sleep, nothing to eat, just a bunch of loony girls, and—me,” and she wound up with coming down on Ned’s box of butter cups (the candy kind), that happened to be under the lame29 arm.
It was strange how much that one man had been to the Glenwood contingent30. They had fairly16 stopped talking since his departure. A night on that train now seemed impossible. Tavia went to the last seat in the car, and dared any one to follow her until she had thought it out. This did not take long, for “out” must have been very near the surface.
“I have it!” she shouted, going back to seat seven.
“Where?” asked Dorothy.
“What?” demanded Dick.
“Havies!” begged Ned.
“Corkies!” joked Cologne.
“We may go!” announced Tavia, now standing31 on Jean’s pretty dress that happened to spread itself over the seat from which she decided32 to orate. “We may go. We may walk. It is only three miles over the cove16 bridge and I pity Glen to-night when jelly-round comes. We’ll lick the plates!”
“Whatever do you mean, Tavia?” asked Dorothy. “The bridge cannot be repaired to-night.”
“The bridge may sink or swim, but there won’t be one of us ‘waiting at the bridge,’” and she hummed a tune15 gaily33.
“But what shall we do?” asked little Amy Brooks34. “We can’t fly?”
“More’s the pity,” answered Tavia. “Next time I take this trip I’ll carry a box kite over the17 green flag. No, but this is what you can do, my dears. Take up your things—every mussed paper bag of them, and hurry with me across the meadow. The road comes out just at the Green Edge trolley35 line, and that line is wound around Glenwood tower! It crosses Strathaway River on a small bridge below this railroad one. Come on!”
Everyone gasped36. That Tavia should have thought of this!
“But, Tavia,” objected Dorothy, “how are we to know that we can cross the meadow? It is almost dark!”
“More reason why we should hurry to find out,” answered the daring one. “Come on, or I’m gone.”
“But our tickets, and the conductor, and all that?” inquired Nita Brant, with ambiguous precision.
“We will all make over a total assignment to you—you may stay with the ship, Nita, but we run!”
It was funny to see how those girls did scamper37 from the last car of that train. The dainty travelling bags, gifts of “friends on departing,” were now all tangled38 up in the scant39 skirts, that did double service of being a part of wearing apparel—small part—and also answering for a carryall of the old time conception. It was the quickest18 way, and that was what counted. Jean Faval did drop her gold purse just as she was alighting (she did not “get off”) but Tavia was so anxious that all should escape that she crawled under the oily wheels and dragged out the golden trinket. The new girl thanked her, and, for the time, an armistice40 was established.
“Are we all here?” called Dorothy, who was assisting Edna because of the lame arm.
“All but King, and he is cleaning out the other cars,” replied Tavia. “There, look out, Dick! Land sakes alive! We won’t have thread and needles enough in the tower to sew our tears, if this keeps up. Dick, you have ruined your flounce on that brake.”
Molly Richards (otherwise Dick) looked hopelessly at the torn needlework skirt. “Oh, well,” she said, making the ground, “I never liked that anyway. The pattern was true-lover’s-knot, and I’m just glad I——”
“Broke the knot,” put in Dorothy. “Tavia, wherever are you leading us to? This must be a turf bog41!”
“Leadin’ on to vict’ry,” replied the girl who was almost running ahead. “I have been over this bog before.”
“But not at this season, when the water comes in,” cautioned Dorothy. “However, girls, I am willing to take the same risk that you all take—sink19 or swim,” and she ran along after Tavia, while the others followed, like American soldiers taking their initial trip through a rice field.
Every step was uncertain—every foot was put in the bog with a shudder42 or groan43, and pulled out with a shout.
“I can’t do it,” declared Nita Brant. “These are my best silk hose.”
“Hose,” yelled back Tavia, “we’ll take up a collection on repairs when we get to Glen.”
“And my—velvet—ties!” exclaimed Jean Faval. “They feel like wooden shoes!”
“We’ll put them up at auction,” suggested Dorothy, good humoredly. “The only thing that really worries me is Edna’s sprained44 arm.”
“Why didn’t you fetch the doc then?” asked Tavia, but before an answer could be ventured there was a scream, and even the happy girls of Glenwood stopped.
What had happened?
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收听单词发音
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1
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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3
temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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4
detention
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| n.滞留，停留；拘留，扣留；(教育)留下 | |
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parlance
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| n.说法；语调 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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7
situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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8
asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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9
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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10
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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12
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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13
aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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opportune
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| adj.合适的，适当的 | |
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15
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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16
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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17
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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20
blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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24
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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25
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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26
exclamations
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| n.呼喊( exclamation的名词复数 )；感叹；感叹语；感叹词 | |
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27
bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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28
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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contingent
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| adj.视条件而定的；n.一组，代表团，分遣队 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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trolley
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| n.手推车，台车；无轨电车；有轨电车 | |
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36
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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40
armistice
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| n.休战，停战协定 | |
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41
bog
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| n.沼泽；室...陷入泥淖 | |
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42
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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43
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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44
sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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