<h2><SPAN name="VI" id="VI"></SPAN>VI</h2>
<h2>THE ADVENTURE OF THE FRESH-AIR FUND</h2>
<p>It was a bright, sunny morning in the early summer when Henriette,
gazing out of the dining-room windows across the lawns adjoining the
Rockerbilt place, caught sight of a number of ragamuffins at play there.</p>
<p>"Who are those little tatterdemalions, Bunny?" she asked, with a
suggestion of a frown upon her brow. "They have been playing on the
lawns since seven o'clock this morning, and I've lost quite two hours'
sleep because of their chatter."</p>
<p>"They are children from Mrs. Rockerbilt's Fresh-Air Society," I
explained, for I, too, had been annoyed<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></SPAN></span> by the loud pranks of the
youngsters and had made inquiries as to their identity. "Every summer,
Digby, Mr. de Pelt's valet, tells me, Mrs. Rockerbilt gives a tea for
the benefit of the Fresh-Air Fund, and she always has a dozen of the
children from town for a week beforehand so as to get them in shape for
the function."</p>
<p>"Get them in shape for the function, Bunny?" asked Henriette.</p>
<p>"Yes; one of the features of the tea is the presence of the youngsters,
and they have to be pretty well rehearsed before Mrs. Rockerbilt dares
let them loose among her guests," said I, for Digby had explained the
scheme in detail to me. "You see, their ideas of fun are rather
primitive, and if they were suddenly introduced into polite society
without any previous training the results might prove unpleasant."</p>
<p>"Ah!" said Henriette, gazing abstractedly out of the window in the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></SPAN></span>
manner of one suddenly seized with an idea.</p>
<p>"Yes," I went on. "You see, the street gamin loves nothing better in the
way of diversion than throwing things at somebody, particularly if that
somebody is what is known to his vernacular as a Willie-boy. As between
eating an over-ripe peach and throwing it at the pot-hat of a
Willie-boy, the ragamuffin would deny even the cravings of his stomach
for that tender morsel. It is his delight, too, to heave tin cans,
wash-boilers, flat-irons, pies—anything he can lay his hands on—at the
automobilly-boys, if I may use the term, of all of which, before he is
turned loose in the highest social circles of the land, it is desirable
that he shall be cured."</p>
<p>"I see," said Henriette. "And so Mrs. Rockerbilt has them here on a ten
days' probation during which time they acquire that degree of
savoir-faire and veneer of etiquette<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></SPAN></span> which alone makes it possible for
her to exhibit them at her tea."</p>
<p>"Precisely," said I. "She lets them sleep in the big box-stalls of her
stable where the extra coach-horses were kept before the motor-car craze
came in. They receive four square meals a day, are rubbed down and
curry-combed before each meal, and are bathed night and morning in
violet water until the fateful occasion, after which they are returned
to New York cleaner if not wiser children."</p>
<p>"It is a great charity," said Henrietta dreamily. "Does Mrs. Rockerbilt
make any charge for admission to these teas—you say they are for the
benefit of the Fresh-Air Fund?"</p>
<p>"Oh no, indeed," said I. "It is purely a private charity. The youngsters
get their ten days in the country, learn good manners, and Newport
society has a pleasant afternoon—all at Mrs. Rockerbilt's expense."</p>
<p>"H'm!" said Henriette, pensively.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></SPAN></span> "H'm! I think there is a better
method. Ah— I want you to run down to New York for a few days shortly,
Bunny. I have a letter I wish you to mail."</p>
<p>Nothing more was said on the subject until the following Tuesday,
when I was despatched to New York with instructions to organize myself
into a Winter Fresh-Air Society, to have letter-heads printed, with
the names of some of the most prominent ladies in society as
patronesses—Henriette had secured permission from Mrs. Gaster, Mrs.
Sloyd-Jinks, Mrs. Rockerbilt, Mrs. Gushington-Andrews, Mrs. R. U.
Innitt, the duchess of Snarleyow, Mrs. Willie K. Van Pelt, and numerous
others to use their names in connection with the new enterprise—and to
write her a letter asking if she would not interest herself and her
friends in the needs of the new society.</p>
<p>"It is quite as important," the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></SPAN></span> letter ran, "that there should be a
fund to take the little sufferers of our dreadful winters away from the
sleet and snow-burdened streets of the freezing city as it is to give
them their summer outing. This society is in great need of twenty-five
thousand dollars properly to prosecute its work during the coming
winter, and we appeal to you for aid."</p>
<p>Henriette's personal response to this request was a check for ten
thousand dollars, which as secretary and treasurer of the fund I
acknowledged, and then, of course, returned to her, whereupon her
campaign began in earnest. Her own enthusiasm for the project, backed up
by her most generous contribution, proved contagious, and inside of two
weeks, not counting Henriette's check, we were in possession of over
seventeen thousand dollars, one lady going so far as to give us all her
bridge winnings for a week.</p>
<p>"And now for the grand coup,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></SPAN></span> Bunny," said Mrs. Van Raffles, when I had
returned with the spoil.</p>
<p>"Great Scot!" I cried. "Haven't you got enough?"</p>
<p>"No, Bunny. Not a quarter enough," she replied. "These winter resorts
are very expensive places, and while seventeen thousand dollars would do
very nicely for running a farm in summer, we shall need quite a hundred
thousand to send our beneficiaries to Palm Beach in proper style."</p>
<p>"Phe-e-w!" I whistled, in amazement. "Palm Beach, eh?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Henriette. "Palm Beach. I have always wanted to go there."</p>
<p>"And the one hundred thousand dollars—how do you propose to get that?"
I demanded.</p>
<p>"I shall give a lawn-fête and bazaar for the benefit of the fund. It
will differ from Mrs. Rockerbilt's tea in that I shall charge ten
dollars admission, ten dollars to get out, and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></SPAN></span> we shall sell things
besides. I have already spoken to Mrs. Gaster about it and she is
delighted with the idea. She has promised to stock the flower table with
the cream of her conservatories. Mrs. Rockerbilt has volunteered to take
charge of the refreshments. The duchess of Snarleyow is dressing a doll
that is to be named by Senator Defew and raffled at five dollars a
guess. Mrs. Gushington-Andrews is to take entire control of the fancy
knick-knack table, where we shall sell gold match-boxes, solid silver
automobile head-lights, cigar-cutters, cocktail-shakers, and other
necessities of life among the select. I don't see how the thing can
fail, do you?"</p>
<p>"Not so far," said I.</p>
<p>"Each of the twelve lady patronesses has promised to be responsible for
the sale of a hundred tickets of admission at ten dollars apiece—that
makes twelve thousand dollars in admissions.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></SPAN></span> It will cost each person
ten dollars more to get out, which, if only half of the tickets are
used, will be six thousand dollars—or eighteen thousand dollars in
entrance and exit fees alone."</p>
<p>"Henriette!" I cried, enthusiastically, "Madam Humbert was an amateur
alongside of you."</p>
<p>Mrs. Van Raffles smiled. "Thank you, Bunny," said she. "If I'd only been
a man—"</p>
<p>"Gad!" I ejaculated. "Wall Street would have been an infant in your
hands."</p>
<p>Well, the fateful day came. Henriette, to do her justice, had herself
spared no pains or expense to make the thing a success. I doubt if the
gardens of the Constant-Scrappes ever looked so beautiful. There were
flowers everywhere, and hanging from tree to tree from one end of their
twenty acres to the other were long and graceful garlands of
multicolored<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></SPAN></span> electric lights that when night came down upon the fête
made the scene appear like a veritable glimpse of fairyland. Everybody
that is anybody was there, with a multitude of others who may always be
counted upon to pay well to see their names in print or to get a view of
society at close range. Of course there was music of an entrancing sort,
the numbers being especially designed to touch the flintiest of hearts,
and Henriette was everywhere. No one, great or small, in that vast
gathering but received one of her gracious smiles, and it is no
exaggeration to say that half of the flowers purchased at rates that
would make a Fifth Avenue tailor hang his head in shame, were bought by
the gallant gentlemen of Newport for presentation to the hostess of the
day. These were immediately placed on sale again so that on the flower
account the receipts were perceptibly swelled.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>A more festal occasion has never been known even in this festal
environment. The richest of the land vied with one another in making the
affair a vast financial success. The ever gallant Tommy Dare left the
scene twenty times for the mere privilege of paying his way in and out
that many times over at ten dollars each way. The doll which Senator
Defew had named was also the cause of much merriment, since when all was
over and some thirteen thousand five hundred dollars had been taken in
for guesses, it was found that the senator had forgotten the name he had
given it. When the laughter over this incident had subsided, Henriette
suggested that it be put up at auction, which plan was immediately
followed out, with the result that the handiwork of the duchess of
Snarleyow was knocked down for eight thousand six hundred and
seventy-five dollars to a Cincinnati brewer who had been<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></SPAN></span> trying for
eight years to get his name into the Social Register.</p>
<hr style='width: 45%;' />
<p>"Thank goodness, that's over," said Henriette when the last guest had
gone and the lights were out. "It has been a very delightful affair, but
towards the end it began to get on my nerves. I am really appalled,
Bunny, at the amount of money we have taken in."</p>
<p>"Did you get the full one hundred thousand dollars?" I asked.</p>
<p>"Full hundred thousand?" she cried, hysterically. "Listen to this." And
she read the following memorandum of the day's receipts:</p>
<div class='center'>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="">
<tr><td align='left'>Flower Table</td><td align='right'>$36,000.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Doll</td><td align='right'>22,175.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Admissions</td><td align='right'>19,260.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Exits</td><td align='right'>17,500.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Candy Table</td><td align='right'>12,350.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Supper Table</td><td align='right'>43,060.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Knick-Knacks</td><td align='right'>17,380.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Book Table</td><td align='right'>123.30</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Coat Checks</td><td align='right'>3,340.00</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>—————-</td></tr>
<tr><td align='left'>Total</td><td align='right'>$171,188.30</td></tr>
</table></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Great Heavens, what a haul!" I cried. "But how much did you spend
yourself?"</p>
<p>"Oh—about twenty thousand dollars, Bunny—I really felt I could afford
it. We'll net not less than one hundred and fifty thousand."</p>
<p>I was suddenly seized with a chill.</p>
<p>"The thing scares me, Henriette," I murmured. "Suppose these people ask
you next winter for a report?"</p>
<p>"Oh," laughed Henriette, "I shall immediately turn the money over to the
fund. You can send me a receipt and that will let us out. Later on you
can return the money to me."</p>
<p>"Even then—" I began.</p>
<p>"Tush, Bunny," said she. "There isn't going to be any even then. Six
months from now these people will have forgotten all about it. It's a
little way they have. Their memory for faces and the money they spend is
shorter than the purse of a bankrupt. Have no fear."<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>And, as usual, Henriette was right, for the next February when the
beneficiaries of the Winter Fresh-Air Fund spent a month at Palm Beach,
enjoying the best that favored spot afforded in the way of entertainment
and diversion, not a word of criticism was advanced by anybody, although
the party consisted solely of Mrs. Van Raffles, her maid, and Bunny, her
butler. In fact, the contrary was the truth. The people we met while
there, many of whom had contributed most largely to the fund, welcomed
us with open arms, little suspecting how intimately connected they were
with our sources of supply.</p>
<p>Mrs. Gaster, it is true, did ask Henriette how the Winter Fresh-Air Fund
was doing and was told the truth—that it was doing very well.</p>
<p>"The beneficiaries did very well here," said Henriette.</p>
<p>"I have seen nothing of them," observed Mrs. Gaster.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Well—no," said Henriette. "The managers thought it was better to send
them here before the season was at its height. The moral influences of
Palm Beach at the top of the season are—well—a trifle strong for the
young—don't you think?" she explained.</p>
<p>The tin-type I hand you will give you some idea of how much one of the
beneficiaries enjoyed himself. There is nothing finer in the world than
surf bathing in winter.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="ILL_010" id="ILL_010"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/ill_010.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="431" alt="ONE OF THE BENEFICIARIES AT PALM BEACH (From a tin-type taken on the spot)" title="" /> <span class="caption">ONE OF THE BENEFICIARIES AT PALM BEACH<br/>(From a tin-type taken on the spot)</span></div>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
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