“We’ve got to be fair and square, as Jem says,” said Jerry.  “This is a club to bring ourselves up, seeing there’s nobody else to do it.  There’s no use in having many rules.  Let’s just have one and any of us that breaks it has got to be punished hard.”

“But how.”

“We’ll think that up as we go along.  We’ll hold a session of the club here in the graveyard every night and talk over what we’ve done through the day, and if we think we’ve done anything that isn’t right or that would disgrace dad the one that does it, or is responsible for it, must be punished.  That’s the rule.  We’ll all decide on the kind of punishment—­it must be made to fit the crime, as Mr. Flagg says.  And the one that’s, guilty will be bound to carry it out and no shirking.  There’s going to be fun in this,” concluded Jerry, with a relish.

“You suggested the soap-bubble party,” said Faith.

“But that was before we’d formed the club,” said Jerry hastily.  “Everything starts from to-night.”

“But what if we can’t agree on what’s right, or what the punishment ought to be?  S’pose two of us thought of one thing and two another.  There ought to be five in a club like this.”

“We can ask Jem Blythe to be umpire.  He is the squarest boy in Glen St. Mary.  But I guess we can settle our own affairs mostly.  We want to keep this as much of a secret as we can.  Don’t breathe a word to Mary Vance.  She’d want to join and do the bringing up.”

“I think,” said Faith, “that there’s no use in spoiling every day by dragging punishments in.  Let’s have a punishment day.”

“We’d better choose Saturday because there is no school to interfere,” suggested Una.

“And spoil the one holiday in the week,” cried Faith.  “Not much!  No, let’s take Friday.  That’s fish day, anyhow, and we all hate fish.  We may as well have all the disagreeable things in one day.  Then other days we can go ahead and have a good time.”

“Nonsense,” said Jerry authoritatively.  “Such a scheme wouldn’t work at all.  We’ll just punish ourselves as we go along and keep a clear slate.  Now, we all understand, don’t we?  This is a Good-Conduct Club, for the purpose of bringing ourselves up.  We agree to punish ourselves for bad conduct, and always to stop before we do anything, no matter what, and ask ourselves if it is likely to hurt dad in any way, and any one who shirks is to be cast out of the club and never allowed to play with the rest of us in Rainbow Valley again.  Jem Blythe to be umpire in case of disputes.  No more taking bugs to Sunday School, Carl, and no more chewing gum in public, if you please, Miss Faith.”

“No more making fun of elders praying or going to the Methodist prayer meeting,” retorted Faith.

“Why, it isn’t any harm to go to the Methodist prayer meeting,” protested Jerry in amazement.

“Mrs. Elliott says it is, She says manse children have no business to go anywhere but to Presbyterian things.”