Dicky found they
were all staying, and that she might have to live in the shelter-house
the rest of the winter, there was an awful scene. I was glad, too, every
time I could see Mr. Thoburn's gloomy face, or hear the things he said
when his name went up for the military walk.
(Oh yes, we had a blackboard in the hall, and every morning each guest
looked to see if it was wood-pile day or military-walk day. At first,
instead of wood-pile, it was walk-clearing day, but they soon had the
snow off all the paths.)
As I say, I was glad. It looked as if the new idea was a success,
although as Doctor Barnes said, nobody could really tell until new
people began to come. That was the real test. They had turned the baths
into a gymnasium and they had beginners' classes and advanced classes,
and a prize offered on the blackboard of a cigar for the man who made
the most muscular improvement in a week. The bishop won it the first
week, being the only one who could lie on his back and raise himself to
a sitting position without helping himself with his hands. As Mrs. Moody
said, it would be easy enough if somebody only sat on one's feet to hold
them down.
But I must say I never got over the shock of seeing the spring-house
drifted with snow, all the windows wide open, the spring frozen hard,
and people sitting there during the rest hour, in furs and steamer rugs,
trying to play cards with mittens on--their hands, not the cards, of
course--and not wrangling.
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