"No, Kingdon dear, I wasn't always. But my mother tried her best to teach me to be,—so don't you think I ought to try to teach you?"
"Sure, Mothery! And you bet we'll do our bestest to try to learn. Hey, Mops?"
"Yes, indeedy! I want to do things right, but I seem to forget just when I ought to remember."
"Well, when you forget, come home and tell Mother all about it, and we'll take a fresh start. You're pretty fairly, tolerably, moderately good children after all! Only I want you to grow a little speck better each day."
"And we will!" shouted King and Marjorie together.
CHAPTER V
"THE JOLLY SANDBOY"
The Sand Club was not very strict in its methods or systems. Some days it met, and some days it didn't. Sometimes all the court was present, and sometimes only three or four of them.
But everything went on harmoniously, and there were no exhibitions of ill temper from the Sand Witch.
In fact, Hester was absorbed in doing her part toward the first number of The Jolly Sandboy.
The child was quite an adept at drawing and painting, and she was making several illustrations for their court journal. One, representing Marjorie seated on her sand throne, was really clever, and there were other smaller pictures, too.
Kingdon worked earnestly to get the paper into shape. He had contributions from all the club, and from Mr. and Mrs. Maynard also. He had a small typewriter of his own, and he laboriously copied the contributions on fair, white pages, and, with Hester's pictures interspersed, bound them all into a neat cover of red paper.
This Hester ornamented with a yellow sand-pail, emblem of their club, and tied it at the top with a yellow ribbon. Altogether, the first number of The Jolly Sandboy was a strikingly beautiful affair.
And the court convened, in full court dress, to hear it read.
The court wardrobes had received various additions. Often a courtier blossomed out in some new regalia, always of red or yellow, or both.
The several mothers of the court frequently donated old ribbons, feathers, or flowers, from discarded millinery or other finery, and all these were utilized by the frippery loving courtiers.
Hester had contrived a witch costume, which was greatly admired. A red skirt, a yellow shawl folded cornerwise, and a very tall peaked hat of black with red and yellow ribbons, made the child look like some weird creature.
Marjorie's tastes ran rather to magnificent attire, and she accumulated waving plumes, artificial flowers, and floating gauze veils and draperies.
The boys wore nondescript costumes, in which red jerseys and yellow sashes played a prominent part, while King achieved the dignity of a mantle, picturesquely slung from one shoulder. Many badges and orders adorned their breasts, and lances and spears, wound with gilt paper, added to the courtly effect.
"My dearly beloved Court," Marjorie began, beaming graciously from her flower decked throne, "we are gathered together here to-day to listen to the reading of our Court Journal,—a noble paper,—published by our noble courtier, the Sand Piper, who will now read it to us."
"Hear! Hear!" cried all the courtiers.
"Most liege Majesty," began King, bowing so low that his shoulder cape fell off. But he hastily swung it back into place and went on. "Also, most liege lady-in-waiting, our noble Sand Witch, we greet thee. And we greet our Grand Sandjandrum, and our noble Sandow, and our beloved Sand Crab. We greet all, and everybody. Did I leave anybody out of this greeting?"
"No! No!"
"All right; then I'll fire away. The first article in this paper is an editorial,—I wrote it myself because I am editor-in-chief. You're all editors, you know, but I'm the head editor."
"Why not say headitor?" suggested Tom.
"Good idea, friend Courtier! I'm the headitor, then. And this is my headitorial. Here goes! 'Courtiers and Citizens: This journal, called The Jolly Sandboy, shall relate from time to time the doings of our noble court. It shall tell of the doughty deeds of our brave knights, and relate the gay doings of our fair ladies. It shall mention news of interest, if any, concerning the inhabitants of Seacote in general, and the families of this court in particular. Our politics are not confined to any especial party, but our platform is to grow up to be presidents ourselves.' This ends my headitorial."
Great applause followed this masterpiece of journalistic literature, and the Sand Piper proceeded:
"I will next read the column of news, notes, and social events, as collected by our energetic and capable young reporter, the Sand Crab:
"'The Queen and her lady-in-waiting went bathing in the ocean this morning. Our noble Queen was costumed in white, trimmed with blue, and the Sand Witch in dark blue trimmed with red. Both noble ladies squealed when a large breaker knocked them over. The whole court rushed to their rescue, and no permanent damage resulted.
"Three gentlemen courtiers of this court, who reside in the same castle, had ice-cream for dinner last night. The colors were pink and white. It was exceeding good.
"A very young princess, a sister of our beloved Queen, went walking yesterday afternoon with her maid of honor. The princess wore a big white hat with funny ribbon bunches on it. Also white shoes.
"Mr. Sears has had his back fence painted. (We don't know any Mr. Sears, and he hasn't any back fence, but we are making up now, as our real news has given out and our column isn't full.)
"Mrs. Black spent Sunday with her mother-in-law, Mrs. Green. (See above.)
"Mr. Van Winkle is building a gray stone mansion of forty rooms on Seashore Drive. We think it is quite a pretty house.
"This is all the news I can find for this time. Yours truly.—The Sand Crab.'"
"Noble Sand Crab, we thank you for your fine contribution to our midst," announced the Queen, and the Sand Crab burrowed in the sand and kicked in sheer delight at such praise.
"The next," announced the Sand Piper, "is an original poem by our most liege majesty, the Queen. It's pretty fine, I think.
"Most noble Court, I greet you now,
From Grand Sandjandrum to small Sandow.
From old Sand Piper, and gay Sand Witch,
To Sand Crab, with hair as black as pitch.
I hope our Court will ever be
Renowned for its fun and harmony.
And as I gaze on this gorgeous scene,
I'm glad I am your beloved Queen."
"Jinks! that's gay!" exclaimed Tom. "How do you ever do it, Marjorie? I did a poem, but it doesn't run nice and slick like yours."
"I'll read it next," said King. "I think it's pretty good.
"I love the people named Maynard,
I like to play in their back yard.
We have a jolly Sand Court,
Which makes the time fly very short.
Except going in the ocean bathing,
There's nothing I like so much for a plaything."
"That's very nice, Tom," said Marjorie, forgetting her rôle.
"No, it isn't. It seems as if it ought to be right, and then somehow it isn't. Bathing and plaything are 'most alike, and yet they sound awful different."
"That's so. Well, anyway, it's plenty good enough, and it's all true, Tom."
"Yes, it's all true."
"Then it must be right, 'cause there's a quotation or something that says truth is beauty. We wouldn't want all our poems to be just alike, you know."
"No, I s'pose not," and Tom felt greatly encouraged by Marjorie's kind criticism.
"Next,"