The Camp Fire Girls at School | Page 3

"Good!" cried Nyoda, "let's play it. You tell the story first."
Gladys stood up in the center of the room and began: "Once upon a
time there were a group of Camp Fire Girls called the Winnebagos, and
they went to school in the Professors' big tepee on the avenue, where

they pursued knowledge for all they were worth. So much wisdom did
they imbibe that it was necessary to wear a head band to keep their
heads from splitting open. Wherever they went they were immediately
recognized by their rings and bracelets, and were pointed out as 'those
dreadful young savages.' The professors and teachers hoped every day
that they would not come to school, but they never stayed away
because they received honor beads from their Guardian Mother for not
being absent. Sometimes it seemed as if the tricks they did in class
room could only have been accomplished by their having consulted one
another, and yet it was impossible to catch them whispering in class
because they always conversed by hand signs. However, this also led to
disaster one day when one of our well-beloved sisters of the bow and
drill tried to make the hand sign for 'girl,' and raised her hand above her
head. The Big Chief, who was conducting the lesson, thought she
wanted something, and said benevolently: 'What is your desire?'
Absent-mindedly she replied, 'It is my desire to become a Camp Fire
Girl and obey the Law of the Camp Fire, which is to seek beauty, give
service, pursue knowledge, be trustworthy, hold on to health, glorify
work, and be happy,' 'Begone,' said the Big Chief, 'what do you think
this is, a Ceremonial Meeting?'"
At the words "Ceremonial Meeting" all the girls jumped up to change
places, and in the scramble a vase was knocked off the table and broken.
Every one sat rooted to the spot with fright, all except Mr. Bob, who
fled at the sound of the crash as if he had been the guilty one. Hinpoha
calmly collected the pieces and carried them out. "My mother will be
extremely grateful to you for this when she comes home," she said. "If
there was one vase in the house she hated it was this one. My Aunt
Phoebe brought it from the World's Fair in Chicago and thinks it's the
chief ornament of our home. Won't mother be glad when she finds it
broken and she can prove that none of us did it?" The tension relaxed
and the girls breathed easily again.
"When are your mother and father coming home?" asked Nyoda.
"They sailed last week on the Francona," answered Hinpoha.
"Weren't you worried to death to have them in Europe so long with the

war going on?" asked Migwan.
"No, not much," said Hinpoha, "because they have been in Switzerland
all the while, which is safe enough, and as they are coming home on a
neutral vessel they have had no trouble getting passage. They should be
here in a week." And Hinpoha's eyes shone with a great, glad light, for
although she had been having the jolliest time imaginable, doing as she
pleased in the house, which was in the care of easy-going "Aunt
Grace," who never cared a bit what Hinpoha did so long as it did not
bother her, she missed her mother sorely, and could hardly wait until
she returned. Nyoda saw the transfigured look that came into her eyes
when she spoke of her mother's home coming, and her own eyes went
dim, for her mother had died when she was just Hinpoha's age.
After the breaking of the vase the game stopped and the girls sat down
again in a quiet circle. "Do you know," said Nyoda, "that bead band
Gladys made has given me an idea? Why can't we keep a personal
record in bead work? It would be a great deal more interesting and
picturesque than keeping a diary, and there would be no danger of your
little sister getting hold of it and reading your secrets out loud to her
friends."
"It's a great idea," said Migwan, who had always kept a diary and had
suffered much from an inquisitive brother and sister.
"Besides," said Sahwah, "think how exciting it would be at Ceremonial
Meetings, to sit with your life story hanging around your neck, and
know that your neighbor was just breaking her neck trying to figure out
what the little pictures meant. Wouldn't old Fuzzytop love to be able to
read mine, though!" And Sahwah giggled extravagantly as she saw in
her mind's eye the bead record of some of her activities in the Junior
session room.
"Now, about all our activities," continued Nyoda, "are covered by the
seven points of the Camp Fire Law, so that