The Campfire Girls at Camp Keewaydin | Page 2

Camp
Keewaydin to their summer hunting grounds.
The Winnebagos looked around with interest at the girls who were to
be their companions for the summer, all as yet total strangers to them.
Girls of every shape and size, of every shade of complexion, of every
age between sixteen and twenty. A number were apparently "old girls,"
who had been at Camp Keewaydin in former years; they flocked
together in the bow right behind the Winnebagos, chattering animatedly,
singing snatches of camp songs, and uttering conjectures in regard to
such things as whether they would be in the Alley or the Avenue; and
who was going to be councilor in All Saints this year.
A number of these old girls were grouped in an adoring attitude around
a pretty young woman who talked constantly in an animated tone, and

at intervals strummed on a ukulele. Continual cries of "Pom-pom!" rose
on the air from the circle surrounding her. It was "Dear Pom-pom,"
"Pom-pom, you angel," "O darling Pom-pom! Can't you fix it so that I
can be in your tent this year?" and much more in the same strain.
"Pom-pom is holding her court again this year, I see," said a biting
voice just behind Agony.
Agony maneuvered herself around on her perch and glanced down at
the speaker. She was a decidedly plain girl with a thick nose and a wide
mouth set in a grim line above an extraordinarily heavy chin. Her face
was turned partly away as she spoke to the girl next to her, but Agony
caught a glimpse of the sarcastic expression which informed her
features, and a little chill of dislike went through her. Agony was
extremely susceptible to first impressions of people.
The girl addressed made an inaudible reply and the first girl continued
in low but emphatic tones, "Well, you won't catch me fetching and
carrying for her and playing the part of the adoring slave, I can tell you.
I think it's perfectly silly, the way the girls all get a crush on her."
There was a pause, and then the other girl asked, somewhat hastily,
"Who do you suppose will get the Buffalo Robe this year?"
"Oh, Mary Sylvester will, of course," came the reply. "She nearly got it
last year. Now that Peggy Atterbury isn't coming back Mary'll be the
most popular girl in camp without a doubt. Look at her over there,
trying to be sweet to Pom-pom."
"Isn't she stunning in that coral silk sweater?" murmured the other girl.
"She has too much color to wear that shade of pink," returned the
sarcastic one.
Agony's eyes traveled over to the group surrounding Pom-pom and
rested upon the girl who, next to Pom-pom herself, was the center of
the group. She was very much like Agony herself, with intensely black
hair, snow white forehead and richly red lips, though a little slighter in

build and somewhat taller. A frank friendliness beamed from her clear
dark eyes and her smile was warm and sincere. Agony felt drawn to her
and jealous of her at the same time. The most popular girl in camp.
That was the title Agony coveted with all her soul. To be prominent; to
be popular, was Agony's chief aim in life; and to be pointed out in a
crowd as the most popular girl seemed the one thing in the world most
desirable to her. She, too, would be prominent and popular, she
resolved; she, too, would be pointed out in the crowd.
The sarcastic voice again broke in upon her reverie. "Have you seen the
hippopotamus over there in the bow? I should think a girl would be
ashamed to get that stout."
Agony glanced apprehensively at Hinpoha, who was staring straight
out over the water, but whose crimson face betrayed only too plainly
that she had heard the remark. The rest of the Winnebagos had
undoubtedly heard it also, as well as a number of others rubbing elbows
with them, for a sudden embarrassed silence fell over that corner of the
boat and a dozen pairs of eyes glanced from Hinpoha to the speaker,
who, not one whit abashed, continued to stare scornfully at the object
of her ridicule.
"Of all the bad manners!" said Agony to Sahwah in an indignant
undertone, which, with the characteristic penetrating quality of Agony's
voice, carried perfectly to the ears of the girl behind her. A light,
satirical laugh was the reply. Agony turned to bestow a withering
glance upon this rude creature, and met a pair of greenish tan eyes bent
upon her with an expression of cool mockery. In the instant that their
eyes met there sprang up between them one of those sudden
antagonisms that are characteristic of very positive natures; the two
hated each other cordially