The Campfire Girls at Camp Keewaydin | Page 4

middies and bloomers, and raced, whooping
like Indians, down the path which led to the tents.
"Are we supposed to get into our bloomers right away?" Oh-Pshaw
whispered to Agony. "Ours are in the trunk, and it hasn't been brought
up yet."
"I don't believe we are," Agony returned, watching Mary Sylvester,
who stood talking to Pom-pom in the doorway of the Camp Director's
office. "None of the older girls are doing it; just the youngsters."
Just then Mrs. Grayson, the Camp Director's wife, came out of the
office and announced that dinner would be served immediately, after
which the tent assignments would be made. The Winnebagos found
themselves seated in a row down the side of one of the long tables,
being served by a jolly-looking, muscular-armed councilor, who turned
out to be the Camp Director's daughter, and who had her section of the
table feeling at home in no time.
"Seven of you from one city!" she remarked to the Winnebagos, when
she had called the roll of "native heaths," as she put it. "That's one of
the largest delegations we have here. You all look like star campers,
too," she added, sizing them up shrewdly. "Seven stars!" she repeated,
evidently pleased with her simile. "We'll have to call you the Pleiades.
We already have the Nine Muses from New York, the Twelve Apostles
from Boston, the Heavenly Twins from Chicago and the Three Graces
from Minneapolis, beside the Lone Wolf from Labrador, the Kangaroo
from Australia, and the Elephant's Child from India."
"Oh, how delicious!" cried Sahwah delightedly. "Do you really mean
that there are girls here from Australia and India?" Sahwah set down
her water glass and gazed incredulously at Miss Judith. Miss Judith
nodded over the pudding she was dishing up.
"The Kangaroo and the Lone Wolf are councilors," she replied, "but the
Elephant's Child is a girl, the daughter of a missionary to India. She
goes to boarding school here in America in the winter time, and always

spends her summers at our camp. That is she, sitting at the end of the
other table, next to mother."
The Winnebagos glanced with quick interest to see what the girl from
India might be like, and somewhat to their surprise saw that she was no
different from the others. They recognized her as one of the younger
girls who had been hanging over Pom-pom on the boat.
"Oh--she!" breathed Agony.
"What is her name?" asked Hinpoha, feeling immensely drawn to the
girl, not because she came from India, but because she was even stouter
than herself.
"Her name is Bengal Virden," replied Miss Judith.
"Bengal?" repeated Sahwah. "What an odd name. I suppose she was
born in Bengal?"
"Yes, she was born there," replied Miss Judith. "She is a rather odd
child," she continued, "but an all round good sport. Her mother died
when she was small and she was brought up by her father until she was
old enough to be sent to America, and since then she has divided her
time between boarding schools and summer camps. She has a very
affectionate nature, and gets tremendous crushes on the people she likes.
Last summer it was Pom-pom, and she nearly wore her out with her
adoration, although Pom-pom likes that sort of thing."
"Who is Pom-pom?" asked Agony curiously. "I have heard her name
mentioned so many times."
"Pom-pom is our dancing teacher," replied Miss Judith. "She is the
pretty councilor over there at the lower end of mother's table. All the
girls get violent crushes on her," she continued, looking the
Winnebagos over with a quizzical eye, as if to say that it would only be
a short time before they, too, would be lying at Pom-pom's feet, another
band of adoring slaves. Without knowing why, Agony suddenly felt
unaccountably foolish under Miss Judith's keen glance, and taking her

eyes from Pom-pom, she let them rove leisurely over the long line of
girls at her own table.
"Who is the girl sitting third from the end on this side?" she asked,
indicating the heavy-jawed individual who had made the impolite
remark on the boat about Hinpoha, and who had just now pushed back
her pudding dish with an emphatic movement after tasting one spoonful,
and had turned to her neighbor with a remark which made the one
addressed glance uncomfortably toward the councilor who was serving
that section.
Miss Judith followed Agony's glance. "That," she replied in a
non-committal tone, "is Jane Pratt. Will anyone have any more
pudding?"
The pudding was delicious--chocolate with custard sauce--and Miss
Judith was immediately busy refilling a half dozen dishes all proffered
her at once. Agony made a mental note that Miss Judith had made no
comment whatever upon Jane Pratt, although she had evidently been in
camp