At some future date, when her ordinary subjects proved less of a burden, she promised herself the pleasure of being numbered among that select clique known as "The Intellectuals," but for the present her motto must be "grim grind." The Patriotic Knitting Guild seemed more feasible.

She paid her subscription, received her skeins of khaki wool, and started mittens to fill up odd moments.

She found the knitting a soothing occupation, it could be taken up and laid down so easily; it often went to school with her, and would come out during the interval, or while she was waiting for a class.

The Photographic Union was beyond her, for as yet she had no camera, but she thought she was justified in joining the Natural History League.

This society did not for the present demand papers from its members, but contented itself with encouraging the collection of objects for the school museum.