BECOMING ADJUSTED
It was not a simple matter for the Sunrise Camp Fire unit to become
accustomed to their new life in the devastated French country. The
conditions were primitive and difficult. More than once in the first few
weeks Mrs. Burton wondered if in bringing the Camp Fire girls with her
to work in France hers had not been the courage of folly?
Tet they started out with excellent military discipline. Life at the
farm house was modeled upon the precepts of the "Waacs," the Womans'
Army Auxiliary Corps of the British army in France. These girls, many
thousands in number, are performing every possible service behind the
British armies in the field.
Unexpectedly it was Sally Ashton who first demanded that a proper
routine of life and work be laid down and obeyed. Also the household
work must be equitably divided, each girl choosing her portion according
to her tastes and talents.
Each day's calendar, written by Mrs. Burton upon her typewriter, was
hung in a conspicuous place in the front hall at the French farm.
The domestic schedule read:
"Breakfast 8 o'clock, bedrooms cleaned immediately after.
Dinner 1 P. M.
Supper 6.30 P. M.
No work after 8.30 P. M.
Bedtime 10 o'clock."
In the proper observance of the hours for meals Sally Ashton was
particularly interested, as she had volunteered to undertake the
direction of the housekeeping, which consisted of deciding upon the menu
of the simple meals and assisting in their preparation. It was not
possible that Sally alone should do all the cooking for so large a
family without wearing herself out and leaving no time for other things.
However, soon after their arrival Mrs. Burton had secured the services
of an old French woman whom she had discovered wandering about the
country homeless, her little hut having been entirely destroyed by the
Germans. Not knowing what else to do, Mrs. Burton originally invited her
to live with them at the farm temporarily. But she had proved such a
help in getting settled and the girls had become so fond of her that no
one of them willingly would have allowed Mere Antoinette to depart.
After the wonderful fashion of French cooks, Mere Antoinette could make
nourishing and savory dishes out of almost nothing, so she and Sally had
principal charge of the kitchen. Notwithstanding, two of the Camp Fire
Girls were to prepare supper each evening, so that they should not
forget their accomplishments and in order to relieve the others.
Marie, Mrs. Burton's maid, had accompanied her to France, although none
too willingly. It was not that she did not adore her afflicted country,
but because she feared the dangers of the crossing and the hardships she
might be forced to endure.
Marie, alas! was a patriot of a kind each country produces, a patriot of
the lips, not of the heart or hand.
It must be confessed that she had wandered far from her chosen work as
maid to a celebrated American actress. Would any one have dreamed in
those early days when Marie had first entered her service that Mrs.
Burton would have followed so eccentric a career as she had wilfully
chosen in the past few years? First to wander about the United States,
living outdoors in Camp Fire fashion with a group of young girls, then
with the same group of girls and two additional ones to undertake the
present reclamation work in France!
Having accomplished the journey across the sea in safety, Marie would
cheerfully, yes, enthusiastically have remained in Paris, even if it
were a Paris unlike the gay city she remembered. She would have enjoyed
accompanying her "Madame" to the homes of distinguished persons, caring
in the meantime for her wardrobe and urging her to return to her
rightful place upon the stage. But since Mrs. Burton for the present
would do none of these things and since Marie had refused positively to
be separated, once more she had to make the best of a bad bargain.
So voluntarily Marie offered to take charge of the greater part of the
housework and to devote the rest of her time to sewing for the French
children in their vicinity, whose clothes were nothing but an odd
assortment of rags.
Marie had her consolations. It was good to be out of a country which
produced men of the type of Mr. Jefferson Simpson, who having
_once_ proposed marriage and been declined, had not the courtesy to
renew his suit. Also it was good to speak one's own tongue again, and
although at present there were but few men to be seen in the
neighborhood under sixty, there were military hospitals in the nearby
villages. Moreover, there was always the prospect of the return of some
gallant French _poilu_ for his holiday from the trenches. So Marie
was unable to feel entirely wretched even while undergoing the hardships
of an existence within a half-demolished farm house on the Aisne.
As a matter of fact, the old farm house was not in so unfortunate a
condition as the larger number of French homes, which had been wrecked
by the enemy before he began his "strategic retreat."
Only a portion of the left wing of the house had been demolished.
This had comprised a large kitchen, a pantry and the dining room.
However, a sufficiently large amount of space remained for the uses of
the Camp Fire unit.
In the center the house was divided by a long hall. On one side were two
comfortably large rooms. The back one was chosen for the dining room and
the front for the living room. The pantry was restored so that it could
serve for the kitchen; as the old stove had been destroyed, a new one
was ordered from Paris. This developed into a piece of good fortune, as
it required far less fuel than the old, and fuel was one of the greatest
material problems in France, coal selling at this time for $120 a ton.
A single long room occupied the other side of the hall; this room had a
high old-fashioned ceiling and was paneled in old French oak as
beautiful as if it had adorned a French palace.
Mere Antoinette explained that the farm house had been the property of
Madame de Mauprais, a wealthy French woman who had lived in the chateau
not far away. It had been occupied by her son, who had chosen to
experiment in scientific farming for the benefit of the small peasant
farmers in the neighborhood.
The war had banished Monsieur de Mauprais and whatever family he may
have possessed, so that Mrs. Burton had been able to rent his farm for a
small sum through an agent who lived in the nearest village.
It is possible that the farm house had been spared in a measure by the
German soldiers because of their greater pleasure in the destruction of
the old chateau which was only about half a mile away. At the present
time the chateau appeared only as a mass of fallen stone.
This single spacious room the Camp Fire girls chose for their school
room for the French children in the neighborhood.
The better furniture of the farmhouse had been hacked into bits of wood
by the German soldiers and was fit only for burning. The simple things
had not been so destroyed. Fortunately their camping life out of doors
had accustomed this particular group of American girls to exercising
ingenuity, so that the problem of furnishing and making attractive their
school room with so little to go upon rather added to their interest.
Two long planks raised upon clothes-horses discovered in the barn formed
a serviceable table. Stools and odd chairs were brought down from the
attic. On the floor were two Indian rugs Mrs. Burton had induced the
Indian woman near the Painted Desert in Arizona to weave for her with
the special Camp Fire design, the wood-gatherer's, the fire-maker's and
the torch-bearer's insignia, inserted in the chosen shades of brown,
flame color, yellow and white.
On the walls hung a few Camp Fire panels and the coverings of sofa
cushions and some outdoor photographs of the Sunrise Camp during former
camping experiences which the girls had brought over with them.
Besides these larger articles, they had managed to store away in their
trunks the materials necessary for the regulation Camp Fire work, honor
beads and the jewelry indicating the various orders in the Camp Fire. If
they were to interest French girls in the movement, they must have the
required paraphernalia.
But the school at the farm house was not primarily a place where the
French girls of the neighborhood were only to be interested in Camp Fire
ideas. It was also a practical school.
During the past year Marta Clark had been studying kindergarten.
She, with Yvonne to help her, had charge of the tiny French children
whom they were able to persuade to come daily to the big farm house.
They were such starved, pathetic children, some of them almost babies!
Yet they had been through so much suffering, their eyes had looked upon
such hideous sights, that many of them were either nervous wrecks or
else stupefied.
Surely there could be no better service to France than this effort to
bring back to her children a measure of their natural happiness!
Yvonne and Marta devised wonderful games in one end of the big school
room. At midday Vera and Peggy always appeared with a special luncheon
for their small guests and for the older ones as well. Bettina Graham
and Alice Ashton took charge of the older pupils, and in teaching it
appeared that Alice at last had found her metier.
Vera and Peggy also worked at the farming out of doors.
More important than any other of Miss Patricia Lord's gifts to the
community farm and the surrounding country was a motor tractor, which
one day had rolled unconcernedly into the farm house yard, an ugly
giant, proving of as much future value to the poor farmers in the
neighborhood as any good giant of the ancient fairy tales.
Fortunately Mary Gilchrist was able to explain its use to the French
peasants who had never seen the like before, and to show them how
speedily their devastated land might again be turned into plowed fields.
Vera and Peggy made frequent trips to the nearby villages, gaining the
friendship of the country people, inviting the younger ones to their
farm and helping in whatever ways they could. Now and then Sally Ashton
went with them and sometimes Sally played with the smallest of the
children, but nearly always her interests were domestic.
In contrast, Mary Gilchrist never remained in the house an hour if it
were possible to be away. Besides engineering the tractor and being a
general express delivery for the entire neighborhood, she had formed the
habit of motoring into Soissons, which was one of the large towns
nearby, and offering her services and the use of her car to the
hospitals. Occasionally she spent days at a time driving invalided
soldiers either from one hospital to another, or else in taking them out
on drives for the fresh air and entertainment.
It would therefore appear as if each member of the Sunrise Camp Fire
unit had arranged her life with the idea of being useful in the highest
degree, except the Camp Fire guardian.
As a matter of fact, Mrs. Burton often used to say that she found no
especial reason for her presence at the farm now that Aunt Patricia had
become the really important and authoritative guardian. Nevertheless,
with that rare quality of personality which as a girl Polly O'Neill had
infused into every interest of her life, there was nothing which took
place at the farm or in the neighboring country which she did not in a
measure inspire.
Once their household had been adjusted, it was true Mrs. Burton did not
do a great deal of the actual work. Instead, and oftentimes alone, she
wandered from one end of the French countryside to the other,
occasionally returning so late to the farm that Aunt Patricia would be
found waiting for her at the front door in a state of fear and
indignation.
Nevertheless the country people began to watch and wait for her coming.
After a time she brought newspapers with her. Then they began to gather
together in one of the larger huts to listen while she read aloud the
war news, with not always a perfectly correct French accent, and yet one
they could understand.
When they were weary of the reading she used to talk, speaking always of
the day when France would be free and the invader driven beyond her
boundaries, never to return. And among her audience were a few of the
old peasants who could recall the Franco-Prussian war.
How amazingly these talks cheered the old men and women! Actually the
daily round of toil once more became worth while, so near seemed the
return of Victor and Hugo and Etienne. They would be happy to find the
little homes restored and the fields green that had been drenched in
blood.
Occasionally Mrs. Burton made her audience laugh until the tears ran
down their wrinkled faces with funny stories of the trenches, of their
own _poilus_, and the British Tommies and the new American Sammees.
Never had the great actress used her talent to a better purpose.
At least it gained for her from these simple and almost heart broken
peasants the eternal tribute of laughter and tears.
Her greatest triumph was when Grand'mere, one of the oldest women in the
little village of M--, was at last persuaded to pour forth her story.
In more than three years she had not spoken except to answer "Yes" or
"No," or now and then to make known her simple needs, not since the
Germans carried off her granddaughter, Elsie. Elsie was the acknowledged
beauty and belle of the countryside and engaged to marry Captain
Francois Dupis, who was fighting with his regiment at Verdun.
Mrs. Burton had gotten into the habit of stopping at Grand'mere's tiny
hut, which her neighbors had restored. At first she brought the old
woman little gifts of food in which she seemed not to take the least
interest. Now and then she talked to her, although the old woman seldom
replied except to nod her head with grave courtesy.
Then one day without any warning as Mrs. Burton was standing near,
Grand'mere drew her new friend down into her lap and poured out her
heart-broken story. It left the younger woman ill and shaken.
Afterwards returning late to the farm alone and entirely unafraid, so
completely had the country people become her friend, Mrs. Burton
wondered what had given the French nation its present faith and courage.
Nothing approaching it has the world ever before witnessed! Then she
recalled that having paid so dearly for their freedom in those mad days
of the revolution, the French people would never again relinquish the
supreme gift of human liberty.