The Grub-And-Stakers Move a Mountain Read Online Free PDF

first to pounce on any infringement of the club’s constitution.
    “Yes, I made sandwiches,” sighed Dittany. Realizing it would be futile to try telling her wild story now, she reached for another serving plate and began unpacking her goodies with a steady rhythm born of much practice. “Goodness knows what they taste like.”
    Samantha, having dispatched the lemon square, reached for one of the tiny triangles and nibbled with epicurean discernment.
    “Delicious,” she pronounced. Samantha had the remarkable faculty of being able to put away any amount of food without adding an inch to her tall svelteness. More remarkably still, nobody hated her for it. Esprit de corps was high among the Grub-and Stakers, though never so high as to make things dull.
    Certainly the next half hour was anything but monotonous for Dittany. She ran her legs off bringing more sandwiches, more cream, more pastries to the tea table. She pestered the longsuffering library assistants for the loan of an extension cord so the lecturer could plug in her slide projector. What with one thing and another, she herself didn’t get any tea until the meeting had started, the Tea Committee were washing up the last of the cups, and there was absolutely nothing left to eat but some sandwiches Zilla Trott had made.
    Zilla’s donations were seldom popular. Today’s offerings were composed, as far as Dittany could determine, of wheat germ, grated raw parsnips, and homemade yogurt on bread made from oat hulls and cardboard. Having missed lunch, she ate them anyway and slipped into the meeting just in time to hear President Therese Boulanger ask, “And now is there any further business to discuss before I turn the meeting over to our Honorable Program Chairman?”
    Without in the least intending to, Dittany bounded to her feet.
    “The Conservation Committee wishes to inquire whether any member knows why the late Mr. Architrave ordered percolation tests done on the Enchanted Mountain.”
    “Perk tests? Late Mr. Architrave?” An excited gabble swept around the room. Therese thumped her gavel mightily.
    “Dittany, I’m sure we all want to know what’s happened to Mr. Architrave. Could you tell us very briefly?”
    “He was apparently shot by an out-of-town hunter who mistook him for a bear coming over the mountain.”
    She hadn’t meant to be funny, but a few people giggled hysterically.
    Therese thumped again. “Now can anybody give us a specific answer to Dittany’s question about the perk tests?”
    Nobody could.
    “Would someone care to make a motion that the Conservation Committee look into the matter and report its findings at the next meeting?”
    “I so move,” said Zilla Trott.
    “Second the motion,” said Samantha Burberry.
    There wasn’t a nay in the crowd.
    “I further move,” Zilla Trott went on, “that we get off our tails and start doing something to protect the wildflowers up there instead of sitting around saying we ought to as we’ve been doing for the past umpteen years, before some idiot does real harm on the mountain.”
    The ayes had it again. “And now,” said Therese in a voice that brooked no opposition, parliamentary or otherwise, “I shall turn the meeting over to our Honorable Program Chairman.”
    The speaker was formally introduced. The lights were dimmed. The slide projector was twiddled until it achieved a sharp enough focus to satisfy all but the really picky. The lecture began.
    No doubt about it, this lady knew her butterflies. Her slides were gorgeous, her delivery informative and amusing. Nevertheless Dittany viewed the Spangled Fritillary and the Zebra Swallowtail with a lackluster eye. She found her mind wandering from the Early Hairstreak and decided after due reflection that anybody who wanted her share of the Little Wood Nymph was welcome to it. She wished she’d kept her mouth shut about Mr. Architrave because she knew everybody would be pouncing on her like a Monarch on a milkweed as soon as the