“We only do this when we admit a new member,” said Betty.

“And not then unless the weather happens to be just right,” added Dorothy.  “But we must hurry and make Ruth a member.  Go on, Betty.”

“Kneel here, Ruth,” said Betty, who was presiding officer for the day.  Then looking as solemn as her dimples and twinkling eyes would permit, she added, “Being about to lose a well-beloved member of our club,” here ail looked at Louise Cobb, “we are at liberty to admit another.  Do you desire to become a member of this club?”

“I do,” answered Ruth, much impressed.

“Do you promise to further our interests in all possible ways and to keep our secrets?”

“I do.”

“Then I pronounce you a fully initiated member,” said Betty, striking her on the shoulder with a twig tipped with scarlet leaves.  “We really haven’t any secrets,” she added unofficially, “except that we don’t want the other boys and girls to know where we go or that we dress up like this.  We don’t make our honorary members promise anything, but we know Miss Burton won’t tell.”

“Of course not,” said Miss Burton.  “I feel too much honored to be admitted to the club to betray their secrets.”

“Now, Ruth,” continued Betty, “the next thing is that the new member must do something; sing or dance or tell a story.”

“Oh!” gasped Ruth.  “I’ll resign at once.  Imagine me singing or dancing when I’m so tired I can hardly move; and as for story-telling, I simply can’t.”

“Perhaps you’d rather recite a poem,” said Charlotte.

“May I have it as short as I please?” asked Ruth as if an idea had struck her, and as Betty nodded assent, she added, “Give me five minutes by myself and I’ll do it.”

The girls chatted while Ruth went just out of hearing and communed with herself.

“Time’s up, Ruth,” called Dorothy.

“All right,” answered Ruth, walking into the circle and sitting down, while she met the expectant eyes with a roguish twinkle in her own.  Then she recited: 

   “There was a young girl from the West,
    Who very much needed a rest. 
    When asked, ‘Can you sing?’
    She replied, ‘Not a thing:’ 
    And felt very sadly depressed.”

Ruth suited her expression to her last words in so comical a fashion that the girls shouted with laughter.

“However did you do it, Ruth?” asked Betty.  “I couldn’t make a rhyme to save me.”

“Oh, father and I got into the habit of making up those five-liners, and I often do it just for fun.”

“We’re proud to have such a poetess in the Social Six,” said Charlotte, making her a sweeping bow with her hand on her heart.

“Miss Burton, we don’t insist that our honorary member shall perform, but we’d like it if you would,” said Betty.

Miss Burton smiled good-naturedly.  “I would tell you a story, only I am afraid our Western member would be too stiff to move if she sat through it.  How would you like to postpone my part of the program until after school some day, and then come and have a cup of chocolate with me?”