The Morning Glory Club — Reading Notes

Manville had discovered her good qualities. "There's somebody else!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout, as she heard the bell which rang at that moment, and then added, quickly, "Excuse _me_, of course you don't go to the door when you have a girl."

A soft voice was heard asking for Mrs. Tweedie, and then the masculine tones of Dora inviting some one to come in.

"Oh, is it you, Miss Sawyer?" said Mrs. Tweedie, all smiles, when the newcomer appeared in the doorway. "We are so glad that you could come. Of course, you know Mrs. Stout, and--"

Miss Sawyer bowed stiffly.

"Glad to see you," said Mrs. Stout, telling the lie that has been told oftener than any other.

Miss Elizabeth Sawyer was a lady of--her age does not matter. She was tall and very slight, her hair was gray, and her eyes were the bulging, staring kind that always seemed about to jump from their sockets, caused in some degree, perhaps, by the black-rimmed eye-glasses secured by a heavy cord which she constantly wore. She had the reputation of being very intellectual. The very person, Mrs. Tweedie thought, to shine in a woman's club.

When Miss Sawyer spied Mrs. Flint she rushed into her arms. She considered Mrs. Flint as near her equal mentally as it was possible for any woman in Manville to be. They sat down together, and cooed for several minutes in the most impolite manner possible, so Mrs. Tweedie thought, probably because she could not hear a word that they said. Mrs. Stout moved uneasily, and Mrs. Tweedie coughed several times, but with no effect.

"Ain't it most time we was doin' somethin' about this club we came here to get up?" Mrs. Stout asked, impatiently, when she could contain herself no longer.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "when the others are ready; and I was waiting--I had hoped that my daughter Fanny, she is to be one of us, you know, would be here by this time. I can't imagine--" Mrs. Tweedie was interrupted by the entrance of her son Thomas, the bad angel of the Tweedie household.

"Ma," he blubbered, "Dora won't give me a piece of cake. Can't I have some, ma?" This exhibition of domestic turmoil made Mrs. Tweedie very angry, and it was with difficulty that she controlled herself.

"Thomas, leave the room immediately," she commanded, sternly.

"Am I goin' to have any cake?" the young man demanded when he saw that tears were of no avail.

"Thomas, I insist upon your leaving the room at once," replied his mother, firmly. The ladies were watching breathlessly the contest between mother and son.

"I won't go 'less I can have some cake," said the boy, defiantly. Mrs. Tweedie went to the door, and called for Dora. The silence that followed was so impressive that Thomas would have succumbed had it lasted a moment longer than it did. When Dora came Mrs. Tweedie, with much determination and latent anger, said:

"Dora, assist Thomas from the room." Dora was delighted; here was an opportunity for revenge. Her hand went out quickly toward her prey, but Thomas dodged.

"I won't go!" he screamed.

"Thomas," said Mrs. Tweedie, sadly, "shall I call your father?" A broad grin spread over the boy's face, and Dora snickered.

"I ain't 'fraid of him," he said, saucily.

"Take him away instantly, Dora!" Mrs. Tweedie ordered, angrily. Dora was more successful in her next attempt to capture Thomas, though a vase was broken and two chairs were overturned while she was dragging him from the room.

"Ladies," said Mrs. Tweedie, in a choking voice, as she removed her glasses and wiped them, "I cannot tell you how grieved I am to have our meeting interrupted--" A crash was heard at that moment, the sound coming from the direction of the kitchen.

"I guess somebudy's dropped somethin'," suggested Mrs. Stout. Her surmise was correct. Dora had dropped Thomas, and dropped him hard. Mrs. Tweedie wiped her eyes, put on her glasses, and wondered how much damage had been done.

"Thomas is a very impulsive child," she said, "I hope that you will overlook this rare breach in his customary commendable deportment. And now, had we not better make a start at least on the work for which we are gathered?"

"I should say it was time," replied Mrs. Stout. "Up to now we've talked about everything from here to Halifax 'cept business."

"The _other sex_," continued Mrs. Tweedie, after listening a moment to be sure that her domestic affairs were running smoothly, or, at least, noiselessly, "the _other sex_," she repeated, "have their lodges and clubs, why should not we band ourselves together in a similar manner, and become, in the community, a great power for good?"

"Excuse _me_," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "but don't you think it's terrible hot here? I'm 'most melted."

Miss Sawyer looked up in astonishment.

"Why, Mrs. Stout, I am positively chilly," she said, coughing dismally.

"I will open a window." Mrs. Tweedie spoke impatiently as she got up and attempted to raise a window. It resisted her efforts. "Really, I can't imagine why it will not open--I'll try the other." She did so, but again her efforts were unsuccessful.

"I guess it's the damp weather," suggested Mrs. Stout.

"I suppose it is," replied Mrs. Tweedie, as she went to the door and called for Dora, and then by way of explanation turned to the ladies and added, "Dora is very strong."

"Did you call, ma'am?" asked Dora, a moment later, as she appeared in the doorway.

"Yes, I want you to open a window," Mrs. Tweedie replied, shortly. Dora advanced on one of the stubborn windows and exerted all her strength. Conversation ceased, all eyes were upon Dora. Failing at one window, she attempted another with the same result. The windows could not be opened by woman.

"I can't do it, ma'm," said Dora, her face very red.

"Call Mr. Tweedie," Mrs. Tweedie commanded. "One of those windows shall be opened!"

Dora hurried from the room, and then Mrs. Stout laughed irritatingly.

"Tell us, pray," said Mrs. Tweedie, haughtily, "the cause of your mirth."

"You must excuse _me_, ladies," Mrs. Stout began, but another burst of laughter that she could not control prevented her from continuing for several minutes. "It struck me as awful funny that we should come here to get up a woman's club, and then have to call in a man the first thing," she explained.

"Were not the _other sex_ created physically stronger than woman because it was intended that they should perform just such labour?" Mrs. Tweedie asked quickly, but before Mrs. Stout had time to reply Mr. Tweedie came into the room.

"How can I serve you, ladies?" he asked as he bowed low and smiled.

"Open a window, please," said Mrs. Tweedie.

"Certainly, my dear," Mr. Tweedie replied as he went to a window, and, without any apparent effort, raised it. "There you are," he said, smilingly. "Anything else to-day?" (Once upon a time Mr. Tweedie had been a salesman in a dry goods store.)

"No," Mrs. Tweedie replied, sharply. She was displeased with him because of his untidy appearance, and wished him to leave at once. He did so, making some senseless remark about the weather as he crossed the room on his way out.

"Now for goodness' sake let's begin," said Mrs. Stout when the window was open and the incident closed.

"Yes, do," echoed Mrs. Flint.

"Well," Mrs. Tweedie began, "I have been reading recently a treatise on parliamentary procedure, and if I am not in error the selection of a presiding officer should be our first business. Am I not right, Miss Sawyer?"

"Yes," replied Miss Sawyer. "And I do hope that you will be our first president, Mrs. Tweedie."

"Oh, but I am not competent," Mrs. Tweedie protested, modestly.

"Never mind," said Mrs. Stout, "take the place, we'll never get anything done if you don't."

"But, really--" Mrs. Tweedie insisted upon weakly resisting.

"You, Mrs. Tweedie, above all others," interposed Mrs. Flint, "are the best qualified to lead us."

Mrs. Tweedie appeared to be resigned to her fate.

"I suppose," she sighed, "that if you _all_ insist (there were three who represented the ladies of Manville), it is my duty to comply with your wishes. We will immediately proceed to ballot."

"Ought we to hold a caucus?" inquired Miss Sawyer while Mrs. Tweedie was passing paper and pencils to the ladies.

"Why, what _is_ a caucus?" asked Mrs. Tweedie in astonishment.

"A caucus," replied Miss Sawyer, "is a meeting held previous to an election. The men invariably hold them."

"Then I am very sure that they are not proper," said Mrs. Tweedie, positively. "Do you know anything about them, Mrs. Flint?"

The pastor's wife rolled her eyes skyward before replying.

"I have heard Mr. Flint say that caucuses were not proper for decent men to attend," she replied.

"And my husband," Mrs. Stout retorted, quickly, "says that a caucus is the only place where a vote counts."

"It surely cannot be necessary in a woman's club," said Mrs. Tweedie. "Now if you will write on your slips of paper the name of the one whom you wish to be our president, I will appoint Mrs. Stout a committee to collect and count the ballots."

"All right, but I can't pass my hat," replied Mrs. Stout, "because if I took it off I'd never get it on straight again. Put them in my hand, I promise not to look." Mrs. Stout proceeded to collect and count the ballots.

"Ladies," said Mrs. Flint while they were awaiting the result, "this is a day long to be remembered. We have voted for the first time."

"But not the last," said Mrs. Stout, "our time is comin'. Now if you're ready I'll tell you who's been elected. Mrs. Tweedie has got all the votes and is elected president. Speech!"

"Really," responded Mrs. Tweedie, "there is no time for a speech even if I could make one. Of course I am very grateful. We will now ballot for a secretary and treasurer."

The performance of voting was twice again enacted with the following result: Mrs. Stout was elected treasurer, and for the office of secretary there was a tie between Miss Sawyer and Mrs. Flint.

"There's a conundrum for you to settle, Mis' President," chuckled Mrs. Stout.

"I am sure that I have no idea what should be done," replied Mrs. Tweedie, much perplexed.

"S'pose we call in Mr. Tweedie and let him vote," suggested Mrs. Stout, who was bubbling with mirth.

"Preposterous!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie. "Give to one of the _other sex_ the privilege of suffrage in a woman's club? Never!"

"Never!" piped Mrs. Flint and Miss Sawyer in chorus.

"Why not let the president vote again?" said Mrs. Flint. "I am sure that I would willingly abide by her decision. Would that method be satisfactory to you, Miss Sawyer?"

"I was about to suggest," replied Miss Sawyer, "that I would gladly withdraw in your favour."

"Oh, no, indeed, Miss Sawyer, I could not let you make such a sacrifice."

"Really, Mrs. Flint, it would be no--"

"No, no, don't speak of it again, I beg of you."

"But, my dear Mrs. Flint, it seems to me that you--"

"I'm sure it is very good of you to say so, but I really could not allow--"

"Please, Mrs. Flint."

"No, in fact _I_ insist upon withdrawing in your favour. There, now please let us not say anything more about it."

"That's right, give in, Miss Sawyer, we ain't gettin' ahead fast enough to suit me," said Mrs. Stout. Miss Sawyer succumbed with a sigh. "Now," Mrs. Stout continued, "I'd like to ask why nobody's made a motion."

"Motions are necessary," replied Mrs. Tweedie, "when action on any question is contemplated. The chair awaits a motion."

"Mis' President, I--" said Mrs. Stout.

"Mrs. Stout," gravely acknowledged Mrs. Tweedie.

"I motion," continued Mrs. Stout, "that we have a committee to get up some rules."

"It is MOVED" (Mrs. Tweedie said "moved" in capitals, hoping that Mrs. Stout would profit by it) "that a committee on rules be appointed. Are you ready for the question?"

"There ain't any question about it as I can see," said Mrs. Stout, indignantly. Mrs. Tweedie patiently explained. Then the motion was "seconded," "put" (real man-fashion), and carried unanimously, and Mrs. Stout, Mrs. Flint, and Miss Sawyer were appointed on the committee.

"Good land!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout when the announcement was made, "I don't know anything about makin' rules 'cept for boys. Can I ask my husband to help?"

"Certainly not," replied Mrs. Tweedie, firmly. "He would only laugh at you and us; besides, we need no assistance from the _other sex_."

"Madam President," said Mrs. Flint as she arose and smoothed down her dress. (Where she got the "Madam President" idea no one knew, but it pleased the ladies immensely.) "I have read that in Congress they have a committee on ways and means. Will it be necessary for us to have a similar one?"

"Well, I declare!" unceremoniously interrupted the uncontrollable Mrs. Stout. "The idea, and three of us married women with children. I say that when our first baby was born we was each of us appointed a committee on ways and means by the Lord."

The laughter that followed was suddenly terminated upon the second entrance of Tommy Tweedie.

"Ma," he bellowed, "Dora slapped my face and made my nose bleed, and pa laughed at me, and said it served me right."

"My poor, dear, little son!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie as she rushed to him. "Tell mother how it happened," she added anxiously as she wiped the blood from the little villain's face. Tommy evaded the question by asking another.

"Can I have some cake now, ma?"

"Certainly you may. Ladies, if you will excuse me for a moment," said Mrs. Tweedie as she and Tommy left the room in quest of revenge and cake.

"Did you ever!" exclaimed Mrs. Stout after the ladies had exchanged knowing glances for a moment.

"I should say so!" piped Mrs. Flint. "I knew that he behaved badly in Sabbath school--"

"Is Mrs. Tweedie's method the wisest?" asked Miss Sawyer.

"Well," whispered Mrs. Flint, "Mrs. Tweedie is a _lovely_ woman, but--"

"My experience is," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "that all boys have got just so much bad and noise in 'em, and if it don't come out one way 'twill another."

This interesting chatter was cut short by the return of Mrs. Tweedie.

"Ladies," she said, "I must again apologize for an irritating interruption. As I suspected, Dora was wholly to blame. She had the audacity to tell me that Thomas attempted to steal cake. The idea, my son steal, and with such blood in his veins."

"Folks that have boys must expect 'em to make some trouble," said Mrs. Stout, and then turning to Mrs. Flint, added, "I hear that your Willie's come home from college."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Flint, as a pink flush spread over her face, "William has returned, and is soon to enter upon a mercantile career."

"Drivin' a wagon, or a job in the factory?" asked Mrs. Stout, innocently. Mrs. Flint became red with rage, Miss Sawyer was disgusted, and Mrs. Tweedie mentally vowed that Mrs. Stout should be gotten rid of, because if she continued saying things there was no telling at what moment the club would fly to pieces.

"It don't make much difference what a boy works at," Mrs. Stout continued, wholly unaware of the passion that she had aroused, "so long's he don't do anything mean. I saw Willie Flint goin' by my house this mornin'--he was walkin' with Miss Wallace, too, if anybody'd like to know, they made a nice lookin' couple--and I must say that he's a fine lookin' feller, too fine lookin' to follow in his father's footprints. But there, we're 'way off the track, ain't we?"

"We have digressed _slightly_," replied Mrs. Tweedie, with icy sarcasm. "Our next business will be the selection of a name for our organization. Suppose that each of us suggest a name, beginning with you, Miss Sawyer."

"Our meetings are to held in the morning--Wednesdays, I suppose?" asked Miss Sawyer.

"Yes; that was my intention," Mrs. Tweedie replied. "It's a new idea, but if any of the ladies object--"

"I don't object," interrupted Mrs. Stout, "only it's a time of day when most of us ought to be doin' somethin' else."

"I had thought," continued Miss Sawyer, completely ignoring Mrs. Stout, "that 'The Wednesday Morning Association' would be appropriate."

"Very good," said Mrs. Tweedie. "And what do you suggest, Mrs. Flint?"

"My choice," replied Mrs. Flint, with her eyes find on the ceiling, "would be 'The Manville Anti-Male Club.'"

Mrs. Stout snickered, whereupon the others glared at her contemptuously.

"I feel that it is my duty to object, Mrs. Flint, to your suggestion," Mrs. Tweedie began. "We are all married--excepting one," she added, with an apologizing smile for the benefit of Miss Sawyer, who was blushing with embarrassment. "Would the name be appropriate when we consider that our life companions are of the _other sex_? Would it not reflect on our judgment in choosing a career in married life?"

"Perhaps we didn't choose," said Mrs. Stout, quickly. "Perhaps--" there is no telling what Mrs. Stout would have said if she had not been interrupted by the entrance of a plump, pink-faced young woman.

"Why, Mrs. Thornton!" exclaimed Mrs. Tweedie, as she advanced to greet the newcomer. "I am _so_ glad that you came. Ladies: Mrs. Thornton. You are just in time to assist us in the naming of our club. How is that dear baby?"

"Teething," replied Mrs. Thornton, sadly, as she sat down.

"Oh, that's too bad," said Mrs. Tweedie, sympathetically.

"Yes, I'm all worn out, and I can't find a thing for the poor child to eat that agrees with him."

"What have you tried?" Miss Sawyer asked, wishing to show some interest, though she knew nothing of babies or their food.

"Everything," replied the perplexed mother. "Last week my husband brought home from town a dozen samples of prepared foods; we have tried them all, but baby's stomach is still in a wretched condition."

"Samples," sniffed Mrs. Stout, contemptuously. "Have you tried cow's milk?"

"The idea!" the ladies exclaimed, indignantly.

"Oh, I know it ain't fashionable," Mrs. Stout retorted, "but I've learned from experience that cow's milk comes next to the best thing for babies."

"Pardon me, ladies," said Mrs. Tweedie, "but I must call your attention to the fact that, admitting at the same time the necessity for babies, our club is still nameless. Mrs. Thornton, what name do you suggest?"

"Oh, dear," replied Mrs. Thornton, "don't ask me. I'm too tired to think. Whatever name is chosen will suit me."

Just then Fanny Tweedie rushed into the room with the energy of an infant cyclone. Mrs. Tweedie gazed in astonishment at her pretty, light-headed, light-hearted, impulsive daughter, as though her entrance was out of the ordinary.

"Why, Fanny!" she exclaimed. "What has detained you?"

"I've been over to Gertrude's to see her wedding things," Fanny replied, in a rather disrespectful manner, without noticing who was present, and then, in her quick, impulsive way, continued: "They're just _lovely_! Really, I never saw such awfully swell things before _anywhere_. She ought to be happy if any girl ever was. I couldn't _begin_ to tell you about them in a week; and-- Oh, I heard the worst stories about Billy Fl--!" A warning look on her mother's face stopped Fanny on the edge of a precipice. But Billy Fl--'s mother guessed--so did the others. Mrs. Tweedie came quickly to the rescue.

"Fanny," she said, "we are trying to find a name for our club; please save your stories for another time. Mrs. Stout, have you any suitable name in mind?"

"How would 'The Manville Woman's Club' do?" replied Mrs. Stout.

"Very good," said Mrs. Tweedie, "only I am prejudiced in regard to the name of our town; it is so suggestive of the _other sex_."

"Well," replied Mrs. Stout, "we've all tried, now what do you think we ought to call ourselves, Mis' Tweedie?"

"I have considered the matter with care," replied Mrs. Tweedie. "Many names have come into my mind, but for one reason or another, all excepting one were rejected. The one that appeals to me as being the most appropriate and beautifully poetic is 'The Morning Glory Club.'"

"Beautiful," murmured the ladies, excepting Mrs. Stout, who laughed until her fat body shook.

"Excuse _me_," she said, as soon as she could control her mirth. "It's an awful pretty name, but what a beautiful bunch of morning glories us old women will make." If the ladies had been profane what opportunities Mrs. Stout had given them. She continued to laugh, however, despite their frowns.