CAMMIE TURNS TEN
by
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Playing "Dollar, Dollar" After the "dollar" had been passed completely around the circle to the right, they practiced passing it to the left. Soon they were very good at the secret transfer. And by that time they all knew the simple tune and words to the "Dollar, Dollar" song. Even Tom sang lustily, though not quite in tune: "Dollar, Dollar how it wanders From the one unto the other. Is it fair, Is it fair To keep that little girl waiting there?" Cammie said. "We’re ready to play. I’ll be IT. I’ll close my eyes while you continue passing this "dollar" around the circle. You can just "palm" it without passing it whenever I’m watching you too closely. If I think you have it, I’ll point at your hand and you have to open it. If I’m right you have to be IT." She closed her eyes and began singing. The others joined in. "Ready," called Nancy, and Cammie opened her eyes. They were all singing and grinning at her, their arms moving back and forth in time to the singing, free hand clasping free hand. Treed by a Pig The guard pig raised his head and then stood up, but he did not leave his post beneath the tree. The other pigs rushed to the trough. Soon the sound of apples being munched greedily filled the air as the pigs settled down to a feast of their favorite food. Squeals accompanied the lip-smacking sounds, each diner trying to get more than his share. At last the guard pig could stand it no longer. Cammie saw him head for the trough on the run. She didn’t wait an extra second. She came down the tree so fast she ripped off an overall button against the trunk, and as she raced for the fence, she saw out of the corner of her eye the enraged pig hurtling toward her down the pig path. She knew there wasn’t time to climb the fence carefully. With fear-winged feet she vaulted it and fell, safe, on the other side. The furious pig lunged against the fence and when he saw he could not budge it, thrust his snout through the wire and snorted in frustration. "Let’s go, Ben," said Cammie, picking herself up. The episode had shaken her. Maybe they had been a bit high-handed in using the pigs as ponies, but who would have thought that a pig could show such single-minded dislike for a person or such cunning in trying to get his revenge. "Here’s an apple I forgot," said Ben pulling a big red one out of his pocket. "Let me have it," said Cammie. She walked back to where the pig stood, still glaring after them. She knelt by the fence directly across from him and held out the apple. He watched her warily. She pushed it through the wire. "I’m sorry," she told him. "I didn’t know you’d feel so insulted." Robbie plopped himself down on one of the broad stones adjoining the fish pool. Cammie carefully slit each dandelion stem into four strips, beginning at the cut end and running each slit up to the now seedless top. "Hold it by this button end," she told Robbie, handing him a divided stem, "and dangle it in the water." To Robbie’s delight, almost as soon as the thin strips touched the water, they began to curl themselves rapidly into corkscrews. Soon there was a pile of pale ringlets on the flat stone beside him. Cammie picked up a couple and tucked them into her short brown hair. "I’m Princess Cameron of the Westwood," she said, "and you are Prince Rob of the House of Kirkland." She arranged wet dandelion curls within the clover crown on Robbie’s head.
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About the Book
When young Jean Cameron Kirkland’s tenth birthday arrived in 1934, the Great Depression was still in effect. Money was scarce, yet life on the Kirklands’ small farm in piedmont North Carolina seemed to Cammie entirely satisfactory. The Kirkland gardens and livestock kept them supplied with plenty of food; Farmington School, the Grange, and Wesley Chapel Church provided continual community activities and entertainment for the entire Pino Community; and the Kirkland and Cameron kin – aunts, and uncles, cousins and grandparents – were very near and dear. This account of the year in which Cammie reached her "First Decade" describes her family’s everyday farm life, the toys that Cammie and her cousin Ben made out of odds and ends, the games they played, and the songs they sang. It includes stories about an almost-sabotaged school operetta, a birthday hot-dog roast, an attempt at marketing "bug shells," the revenge of an insulted pig, a big family reunion, and a Christmas hayride.
About the Author
Elizabeth McMahan grew up on a small farm in the piedmont section of North Carolina, a seventh generation descendant of forebears who first settled there in the 1760s. Like Cammie, she lived within a mile of both sets of grandparents, all staunch pillars of a closely-knit farming community with strong ties to school, church, and Grange. The middle of three sisters, she from her earliest years loved the out-of-doors, roaming the woods, spying out bird nests, and making insect collections to enter into competition at the county fair. These childhood interests were doubtless involved in determining her decision to become a zoologist, with a special interest in entomology. Her research specialty is termite biology, and her academic career at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill has included field research in Puerto Rico, Costa Rica, Panama, Venezuela, Ecuador, Australia, and India. She also served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Jamaica and greatly enjoys travel by cargo ship.