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The Presbyterian of the South : [combining the] Southwestern Presbyterian, Central Presbyterian, Southern Presbyterian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1909-1931, January 01, 1919, Image 9

Image and text provided by Library of Virginia; Richmond, VA

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/10021978/1919-01-01/ed-1/seq-9/

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Our Boys and Girls
THE KNITTED SCARF.
Lucille Pinckney went home with two big
hanks of gray yarn in her knitting bag.
"I have to make a scarf," she explained
rather proudly, "a scarf to send away to a
soldier."
Mrs. Pinckney smiled.
"That's splendid," she said. "If every girl
makes only one scarf, there'll be a number to
send away. We all must do what we can."
Lucille nodded.
"I'll like to make it," she said. "At least,
I think I shall."
Grandmother Pinckney looked up from her
own knitting.
"I)o you know how to make a scarf,
Lucille?" she asked.
"Oh, yes. It's just plain knitting. I could
do that when I was six."
"Then why did you say you thought you'd
like it?"
"Because a scarf is so long. I'm not sure
that I shall keep on liking to the end. There
are fifty stitches to a row, and the scarf has
to be sixty-eight inches long. That'll mean
an awful lot of rows. Maybe I shall not like
the last as well as the first.
"You'll be so used to it then that your
needles will fly. It will seem like play to you."
* "I want to begin it right away. Grand
mother, will you help me with the yarn?"
Grandmother would and did. Presently the
two big balls were ready. Lucille took up
her new needles.
"Now watch me fly!" she said.
She worked away faithfully until time to
prepare her lessons for the following day, but
bhe had made little showing.
"It'll go faster after a while," her mother
and grandmother encoxiraged her.
Lucille made a wry face.
"I never worked so long at anything and
had so little to show for it," she said.
"Have patience. It will grow."
And day by day it did grow. In a week
or so she had a creditable showing.
She took it to high school every day, and
managed to get a few rows done each noon
time.
"You'll have it done in no time," her father
praised her. "I know where to come now
when I want a pair of heavy socks."
Lucille laughed as he pinched her ear.
"I'm afraid you'd grow out of them before I
had them finished," she said.
One day the Red Cross sent out a hurry
call for the scarfs. Lucille sat up late at night
and was able to turn hers in the same time
that the other girls did.
She gave a sigh of relief.
"I never was so glad to get rid of any
thing," she said.
"It was well done," said her mother. "And
you have learned to knit so much faster than
you did at first."
"But I was pretty tired of it."
Grandmother Pinckney looked up and
smiled.
"You're too tired of knitting to make a
white-and-rose-colored sweater for yourself?"
she said.
Lucille 's eyes sparkled.
"O-h-h!" she cried. "O grandmother!"
"If you aren't too tired, I know where the
yarn is to be found ? in my top dresser drawer.
Go get itl"
Lucille ran ! She was back in a moment, her
cheeks matching the rose-colored yarn.
"I never was so glad in my life," she said.
"It'll be just the thir.g for the boat ride."
"That's what I bought it for. Do you know
how to make a sweater, Lucille? I don't ? at
least, I never have made one of those slip-on
sweaters that you said you wanted."
"No, grandmother, I don't know how, but
Louise does. She has made half a dozen. She
said she'd help me any time. Oh, I can hardly
wait! All the girls have slip-on sweaters and
I've wanted one for so long."
"Well, we'll wind the yarn and then you
may run over and ask Louise to help you."
Lucille came back with the sweater started.
"It's easy," she said, "and Louise says it
will go rapidly."
Mr. Pinckney whistled when he saw the gay
colored yarn.
"Well, little daughter, are you going to turn
the soldiers out in the national colors?"
"This is my sweater. Grandmother bought
it for me."
"So you're going to let the soldiers shift for
themselves, while you knit a sweater for your
self?"
"We're out of yarn at school," Lucille told
him triumphantly. "But we're still doing Red
Cross work on Thursdays. We're making
bandages."
"Well, success to your sweater!"
Lucille worked with the diligence that makes
for success, and the sweater grew even faster
than the scarf had done.
When Rodney and Louise Grant eame over
in the evening, Lucille made no pretense of
entertaining them.
"I have to finish this sweater for the boat
ride," she explained. "Rodney, you play
checkers with father, and Louise and I will
talk while I work."
"I don't believe an old sweater is worth all
the work you put into it!" Rodney complained.
"You haven't had a minute for weeks. And
before the sweater it was a scarf."
"The scarf is finished, and I'll have the
sweater finished in a little while. You'll
see."
"Then it'll be something else," Rodney said
pessimistically.
"When this is done I shall be free for
awhile," Lucille cheered him. "And we'll
play tennis and checkers till you're tired."
"I'll believe it when I see it. I've noticed
that when anything like that starts it doesn't
stop right away. You'll have something else
on hand before you finish that, Lucille."
Lucille was sure that she wouldn't, but the
following day brought the work, as Rodney
had prophesied.
Yarn for another scarf was given to each
girl. Lucille took hers without comment. But
as soon as school was out, she spoke to Louise.
"0 Louise, what shall I do? The boat ride
is next week. I did want to look nice. I
never can finish both the sweater and the
scarf."
"I thought of that when they were giving
out the yarn," said Louise. "But what can
you do about it? They're in a hurry for the
scarfs. We have to rush them. And every
girl has a scarf except Doris. She says knitting
makes her nervous. She never has helped a
bit. She '8 the only girl who won't be busy ?
and the only girl who wouldn't be willing to
give you a hand."
"I know. I'll have to let the sweater go,
I suppose, after I've worked so hard and had
set ray heart on wearing it, too."
''Well, never mind. You'll look well what
ever you wear."
At home, the downcast face of Lucille did
not escape the eyes of either mother or grand
mother.
"What's the matter!" they cried. "Has
anything happened to your sweater?"
"Yes."
"O Lucille, that '8 too bad. I advised you
not to take it to scohol. You were getting on
well enough at home. Is it spoiled?"
"Don't bother, Lucille," cheered her grand
mother. "I've yet to see the spot 1 couldn't
get out in some sort of fashion. I'll fix your
sweater."
"Oh, you can't, grandmother," Lucille re
plied. "Thank you for offering. No one can
fix the sweater. There isn't any spot on it. I
can't finish it, because I have to make another
scarf!"
"Another so soon?"
"The poor soldiers!"
"I'd like to make another scarf, later,"
Lucille answered, a little sulkily; "but I did
want my sweater for the boat ride. [ can't
help if it's selfish, I wanted that sweater the
worst way. All the other girls have sweaters."
"Perhaps you can get it done, too."
Lucille shook her head.
' ' I have to rush on the scarf. They are to be
sent away very soon. I can't touch the sweater
till the scarf is finished. And the boat ride
is next week."
"Well, you ought to be glad to make a Ut
ile sacrifice" ? began her mother.
Hut Grandmother Pinckney touched Lu
cille 's hair with a tender hand.
"A little sacrifice is a big sacrifice at four
teen," she said. "I know how the child feels.
I wish I could help her."
And suddenly her eyes brightened.
"I'll finish your sweater for you, Lucille,
dear! You'll have it in time for the boat ride,
after all."
The arms of Lucille stole around her grand
mother's neck, even while she shook her head.
Grandmother certainly was a dear.
"You couldn't, grandmother. Everyone
knits differently. They told us that in school,
and said that every girl must finish her own
scarf."
Grandmother caught at the last word.
"But the scarf, dear. The scarf isn't
touched. There'll be no difference in that.
I'll knit it for you and you can finish your
sweater."
"O grandmother!" Lucille said gratefully,
"how you always help me out!"
"That's what grandmothers are for."
Lucille held the yarn while her grandmother
wound it. That was the last that she had to do
with the scarf. She knitted busily away at
her sweater, singing while she worked.
"I'll have it done in lots of time," she con
gratulated herself.
The knitting of the scarf, too, went on apace.
Lucille, watching her grandmother's fingers
fly, marveled.
"It's wonderful how you can knit so beau
tifully and not watch your work!" she said.
"It doesn't seem a bit of a burden to you."
"It isn't," her grandmother smiled. "I like
to knit. And I have many years of experience
back of me."
The scarf was finished before the sweater.
Lucille could not praise it enough.
"It doesn't look a hit like the scarf I knit,"

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