THE SECOND-CLASS TEST
The new Scout candidates soon passed their Tenderfoot test, and
registered at National Headquarters as regular members of Pansy troop.
Lucy Graham, the senior, was elected patrol leader of the new patrol,
and Doris Sands received the office of corporal.
The last meeting before spring vacation was held. After the usual
preliminary business had been concluded, Captain Phillips said that she
had several interesting announcements to make.
“To-morrow,” she said, “instead of our usual outing, we are going
down in the village to Mrs. Burd’s house to cook our own supper. You
know every girl has to cook something satisfactorily as a part of
her second-class test; and I wasn’t quite sure how to give you the
opportunity, when my friend Mrs. Burd came to the rescue, and offered
us her kitchen for to-morrow night, while she and the rest of her
family are away.
“Now,” she continued, after the girls had discussed her proposition
for several minutes, “I have something to tell you that I know will
interest you all. I have chosen the play we are going to give after
spring vacation!”
“Oh, what is it?” cried Ruth informally, forgetting the usual ceremony
of address.
But Miss Phillips did not notice the departure from discipline. Perhaps
too, she was too much interested in her subject to be aware of it.
“‘Everygirl,’” she replied, holding up a copy of the play. “I think you
are going to like it; and if you do well with it, it will surely bring
credit to the whole school!”
She opened the pamphlet she was holding, and read off a list of
symbolic characters. “Of course the play is an allegory; ‘Everygirl’
just represents any girl, who meets with good and evil, and who has to
choose her companions and her course through life. There are a good
many parts to the play, so I hope you will all be able to be in it. Of
course, the main part is that of Everygirl, the heroine.”
“Captain,” said Frances, rising and saluting, “please tell me how you
are going to select the girls for the parts, and whether we shall be
able to study them over spring vacation.”
“I am going to select the characters at a try-out to-morrow afternoon;
so will everybody please come to the Gym right after lunch?”
“I used to be in plays at home,” remarked Ruth. “I suppose that will
help, won’t it?”
“We’ll see to-morrow,” replied Miss Phillips. “Now, one thing more
before we take our second-class tests: I want to arrange about our
cabin party with the Boy Scouts. School reopens April fifteenth, which
is on Wednesday; so all the Girl Scouts are to come back here on
Tuesday morning. Get here before twelve o’clock. The housekeeper, Mrs.
Rock, is going to give us a light lunch, and we are to change into our
scout uniforms, take a trolley to Bear’s Hill and hike to the cabin.
Each girl is to bring her own mess-kit, and wear warm clothes; the Boy
Scouts prepare the rest.”
Ruth’s eyes danced. “How many Boy Scouts are there?” she asked.
“I think they have a full troop--four patrols--thirty-two boys--but
they are going to take only the sixteen with the highest standing.
Their Scoutmaster, Mr. Remington, told me all the boys were crazy to
go; but he didn’t want their numbers to overwhelm us. Now, girls,
unless there are some important questions, we will not talk about these
things any longer, but will prepare to take the written part of the
second-class test. And before I forget it, will you bring your samples
of sewing, crocheting, and knitting over to the Gym to-morrow afternoon
for me to examine. Then after supper to-morrow night, I ought to be
able to announce the names of the girls who have passed the test.”
Ethel arose excitedly. “Captain,” she said, “the handbook says we need
submit _either_ knitting _or_ crocheting; so we don’t have to bring
both, do we?”
“Scout Todd,” answered Miss Phillips, “if you remember correctly, I
announced several months ago, that no girl in Pansy troop could become
a second-class scout without submitting samples of _both_ knitting and
crocheting. You all know our standards are very high, and Miss Allen
and I both agreed that in all the cases where the handbook gave a
choice of two alternatives, we would require both. It is entirely fair,
because it is the same for everybody. Do you understand?”
Ruth sat perfectly still; but she saw her hopes of wearing the green
clover badge home at vacation fading, for though she knit splendidly,
she had never done a stitch of crocheting in her life.
Miss Phillips distributed the paper, and the girls gave their attention
to the written part of the test.
As they were getting ready for lunch the next day, Ethel asked Ruth
whether she could crochet.
“Yes,” replied Ruth, after a slight hesitation.
“And have you something ready to take this afternoon?”
Ruth opened her drawer, and took out a square of filet. “I haven’t done
much of it, but I guess it’s enough to show Captain Phillips what I can
do!”
“How pretty,” said Ethel admiringly. “Oh, Ruth, couldn’t you teach me;
I do so want to get that second-class badge!”
“I’d love to,” replied Ruth; “but I can’t before to-night, because it’s
pretty hard to learn, and I want to practice for the play. I think I
stand _some_ chance of getting the heroine’s part, if I read it over
several times. But I wouldn’t if Marj Wilkinson were in the troop.
She’s a peach at dramatics!”
Ethel was disappointed, but decided to wait until spring vacation
to learn. She was not, however, the only girl to fail to win the
second-class badge for this reason. When the scouts met a few hours
later in the Gym, it transpired that Ruth and two others were the only
ones to produce samples of their work.
“May I have my crocheting back as soon as you have inspected it,
Captain?” asked Ruth. “I want to work on it.”
“Certainly,” replied Miss Phillips, “you can have it now, for that
matter.”
The try-outs for the play lasted all afternoon; after each girl read a
number of different parts, Miss Phillips excused them; but most of the
girls preferred to wait to hear the results of the Captain’s decisions.
Finally, a little before five o’clock, she read the characters as she
had selected them, and Ruth was disappointed to hear that Helen Stewart
was awarded the part of “Everygirl.” Her companions crowded around her
with congratulations; and Ruth, who had resolutely put her own feelings
aside, remembering that “a scout is cheerful,” was among them.
In less than half an hour’s time, the girls re-assembled to accompany
Miss Phillips to Mrs. Burd’s home. They found it charming, just the
sort of house a girl dreams of having some day--with everything bright,
and shining, and new. The kitchen was small, but several of the girls
took their work into the shed or the dining-room, so that all of the
sixteen scouts were never in it at once.
Miss Phillips had very cleverly prepared a menu that required many
extras; there was soup, two vegetables, cream sauce and gravy, salad,
salad-dressing, muffins, cocoa, and dessert; so that all the girls had
the opportunity to show their skill in cooking. Miss Phillips directed
the work, which was fortunate for such inexperienced cooks, and
everything turned out splendidly. The dinner was a great success.
As soon as the soup was on the table, the girls took off their aprons
and sat down; each course was served by the girls who had prepared it.
The appetizing smell of the food, and the excitement of the experiment,
made them all hungry; they laughed and chatted gaily as they ate, their
flushed faces testifying the joy of their success.
When dessert had been served, Miss Phillips said, “I certainly want to
congratulate you all on your splendid dinner. I can see already that no
man who marries a Girl Scout of Pansy troop ever need worry about his
future happiness.”
The girls laughed, and Ethel looked significantly at Doris, as if to
indicate that she would probably be the first to have the chance to
prove this fact.
“I wish I could pass you all on _every_ part of your second-class
test,” continued Miss Phillips, “as easily as I can on your cooking.
But unfortunately, I can award only three green clovers to-night: to
Helen Stewart, Ruth Henry, and Doris Sands!”
She paused while the girls clapped. Producing three badges from the
pocket of her uniform, she requested the three girls to stand up.
“We will have the formal ceremony the first Friday after spring
vacation; but I know that you girls are anxious to wear your badges
at the cabin party, so I am going to give them to you now. Sew them on
your left sleeve,” she concluded.
After the dishes had been cleared away, and the dining-room and kitchen
made spotless, the girls sang some songs around the piano in the
living-room, and then proceeded to get ready to go back to the school.
“The plays will be here by Monday,” said Miss Phillips, as she bade the
girls good night. “Be sure to get your copies to take home with you.”
The next morning Ruth told Ethel that she had a headache, and intended
to ask for permission to stay away from church.
“Too much party, I guess,” said Ethel, as she put on her hat. “You
better lie down till noon!”
But it was not the result of the party that was keeping Ruth at home;
she had an important errand to perform, for which she needed the
desertion of Sunday morning.
She waited until all was quiet in the hall; then taking a small article
out of her bureau drawer, she walked quickly over to Marjorie’s room.
She was so sure that the latter would be at church, that she opened the
door without knocking. To her great surprise, Marjorie suddenly sat up
in bed.
“Hullo, Ruth!” she exclaimed. “What time is it? I guess I must have
overslept! Lily went over to stay all night with Helen Stewart, so I
hadn’t anybody to waken me.”
Ruth was extremely taken back by Marjorie’s presence, but concealed
her embarrassment, and took advantage of the other girl’s sleepiness
to drop, unnoticed, the article she held in her hand behind one of the
pillows on Lily’s cot.
“It’s after eleven o’clock! You’ll never make church now!” she said.
“Eleven o’clock!” cried Marjorie, jumping out of bed. “Oh, my goodness,
another unexcused absence!”
“Marj,” said Ruth slowly, “can I borrow your ‘Tales from Shakespeare’?
I got permission to stay home for a headache; but I’m better now, and I
want to look up something.”
“Surely--it’s down on the bottom shelf. You don’t mind if I hurry?”
“No, indeed; I have to go anyhow. Good luck to you! Good-bye!”
When Marjorie and Lily returned together from church at noon, the
first thing that struck Lily’s eye after she sat down on her cot was
Marjorie’s lost crocheting.
“Here’s your square of filet, Marj!” she exclaimed, picking up the
piece. “It was behind the pillow! I wonder how long it’s been
there--and we never saw it!”
“But I did look there, before,” protested Marjorie. “Anyway,” she
added, putting it into her work bag, “I’m glad to have it to take home
with me.”