THOSE CAMPING DAYS
“Isn’t this the most exciting week?” queried Isabel.
“It is indeed,” replied Cathalina, who was feeling disappointed over
tennis results in the August tournament, provoked at herself for one
or two bad plays she had made, yet glad for Lilian that she had won
the tournament again. The girls had just finished the final baseball
game and both teams, with a few spectators, had strolled off to rest
under the trees. A cool breeze blew from the water which sparkled
and foamed over the rocks.
“Tournaments to be finished, the last points you can possibly get in
anything to be made, swimming match tomorrow, boys’ minstrel show
next day, then the last hike, the big banquet and prizes and
everything on Friday, and on Saturday the last senior lodge play!
This hectic life of pleasure has spoiled me for school!”
“Nonsense, Isabel. We’ll feel all the more like it,” said Lilian.
“There _are_ those who love to study, I’m told,” said Isabel, who
was feeling anything but intellectual that morning, “but the only
reason that _I_ do it is that I’m ashamed to be ignorant!”
“You are certainly frank about it,” Eloise remarked with a quizzical
smile.
“Then if you don’t study,” continued Isabel, saucily addressing
Eloise, “you can’t enjoy the real fun, because of what hangs over
your head in the way of cuts, lessons to be made up, letters home
from the faculty, and term work to be repeated because of failures.”
“To hear you talk, anybody would think that you are one of those who
are always on the ragged edge,” reproved Betty. “Frances, Isabel is
one of the best in her classes at Greycliff.”
“Thanks, Betty, for your kind tribute, but I have learned by
observation,” said Isabel loftily, “and profited by seeing the awful
times the idlers have. They have to pay the bill some time, and
that’s the only reason I work.”
“Isabel is just thinking with her tongue about her reasons for
work,” said Virginia.
“Lots of people do that,” acknowledged Isabel, laughing.
“Unfortunately true,”—and Eloise gave Isabel a gentle push till she
fell over on the grass by Cathalina, who was lying at full length.
“Don’t you wish you knew,” continued Eloise, “what they’re going to
do at the banquet—and how the dining-room will be decorated,—and
what the eats will be,—and how the councillors will dress up,—and
who will get the prizes?”
“I wouldn’t miss the banquet for worlds!” cried Betty. “The girls
all say that it is always _wonderful_, and so exciting and thrilling
about the prizes. Why, sometimes the girls have the tears just
streaming down their cheeks, but root nobly for the one who took the
prize away from them!”
“I don’t believe that I could do that,” said Virginia.
“O, you’d be ashamed not to be glad for the other girl, wouldn’t
you?”
“It would just depend on who she was and how she took it,” said
Virgie with decision. “If she were airy and smarty, I wouldn’t like
it.”
“N-no, but anybody’d be ashamed to be that way up here, or at least
to show it. There is too much camp spirit among us.”
Cathalina slipped her hand into Lilian’s and they exchanged an
affectionate look, which Hilary did not miss, and she patted
Cathalina’s shoulder approvingly.
“I’m sorry for the girls that are leaving early,” Virgie continued.
“Two or three are going tomorrow. It’s a good thing that the games
are about over,—we’d have so few on our team.”
“What do we do next week, Frances?” asked Helen.
“Chiefly get ready to leave. It will take us all day Monday to
pack.”
“How could it?”
“I don’t mean every minute, but there will be things to fix and hunt
up. We can have some good times in between at the club house, and
play tennis or anything we want to, you know, but we leave Tuesday
afternoon, and by Wednesday hardly anybody will be at camp.”
“Doesn’t it make you sick to think about it? Maybe I’ll never be
able to come back here!” Helen’s eyes looked misty.
“We mustn’t think about it,” said Isabel. “Cheer up. Suppose you
could never go home and see your folks.”
“Listen to the practical Isabel,” laughed Lilian. “That’s right,
Isabel; always look forward to the next nice thing that you’re going
to do!”
“By the way, girls,” said Isabel, “the last _Moon_ will be read
Sunday, and I promised to see everybody and ask for a contribution.
Every one of you can hand in a personal or some little paragraph
about something that has happened in your klondike. I’m coming
around Saturday and if you haven’t written anything I’m going to sit
down and wait till you do. No promises go!”
“Might as well do it, girls,” said Eloise. “When the energetic
Isabel has a duty to perform, it is a case of ‘do it _now_’. O,
dear, what fun we have had!”
“_Are_ having, _going_ to have,” insisted Isabel. “Don’t start any
mourning, anybody. We’ll probably have enough of waterworks at the
end, and I, for one, don’t want to begin now.”
“You funny, nice, dear old Isabel,” said Cathalina, reaching a hand
over to rumple Isabel’s curly head.
Rapidly passed these last day of camp. The last games of the August
tournament were played. Reports of attainment and points earned were
handed in by the director of athletics, the swimming instructor and
other councillors. Excitement more or less suppressed spread among
the girls as they consulted with each other about whom to choose and
vote for in regard to the prize cups. From so many bright, helpful
and popular girls, who should be chosen as the best camper among the
seniors, the intermediates and the juniors? The girls were warned
against “campaigning” for their favorites. In this, points did not
count, except as indicating an interest in the activities. The best
“all-around camper” would not necessarily be the one who was first
in any particular activity. Former years in camp, giving what we
might call “cumulative” helpfulness and loyalty, counted also.
The annual “minstrels” at the boys’ camp was one of the great
events. Gay boat-loads of girls on that happy night went down to
Boothbay Camp, gave enthusiastic support and applause to the
entertainment furnished by the boys, enjoyed every feature, and
joined heartily in the singing of popular or camp songs while the
curtains were drawn between “acts.” By lantern and flashlight they
again filled the boats for the unusual experience of a ride home on
the river after dark. A big flashlight served occasionally as search
light, but the pilot knew his river even without a moon.
Mysterious indeed were the doings of councillors on the fateful
Friday. All girls were forbidden the dining-room after breakfast,
except a few who were asked to help bring down the “greenery” from
the woods. These had a peep at the unfinished decorations. There was
to be a picnic lunch at noon, to leave the dining-room free for the
elaborate decorating, and it was even a mystery where the lunch was
to be. In the arts and crafts room councillors were working on the
last menu cards, which were being painted and lettered, and
occasionally a few girls would invent some “necessary” errands,
which would take them through the room into Laugh-a-lot. But furtive
glances only increased interest.
“I saw the cap the camp mother was making,” said one. “My, it was
pretty. There was a little crinkled yellow ruffle on the edge of
black crepe paper.”
“Then that’s the color scheme! I suppose they’ll wear caps and
aprons,—they did last year.”
“Yes, but it’s _never_ the same, so you can’t tell.”
When the bell rang for lunch, all who had to go to the club house
for information were directed to the pine grove. But before this,
many of the girls had noticed the people who were trailing in that
direction with utensils and eatables. The big kettle of hot beans
and some other supplies were taken in the convenient and familiar
wheelbarrow.
On the rocks at the right of the cove the fire was made and long,
fat “wienies” were being cooked in a big pan, which was supported on
the edge of the fire by two large chunks of wood.
“O, the beautiful, _beautiful_ pine-grove!” exclaimed Cathalina, as
she took her place behind Hilary in the line, which had been halted
by the smiling head councillor some little distance from the fire
till the signal should be given that all was ready.
“If I come back next summer, I’m going to bring my paints and
everything,” she continued. “I’ve made some sketches, but I want to
get the blue of the blueberries with the dew on them, and some of
the sunsets are so gorgeous,—or so delicate. I saw the most peculiar
effect one night when we were starting a camp fire on Marshmallow
Point for a marshmallow roast. There were heavy brown-gray clouds
and just one streak where the sun was trying to shine through, and
the queerest color to the water. I thought of the old poem where
‘the dark Plutonian shadows gather on the evening blast.’”
“Look at this little vine with the scarlet berries,” said Hilary,
stooping to gather a bit that was trailing along the ground. “Has
this been taken in to Mother Nature yet?”
“I think so, and there is another kind on the ground not far from
where the fire is. Yesterday I found the oddest little flower
growing right out of the rock in the cove. The flower was almost
exactly like the common little fall aster, purple of a sort, but the
plant was a single stalk and looked like an evergreen, made you
think of balsam. I’m going to ask Mother Nature what it is. I picked
it.”
“Hurrah, here we go!” said Hilary, weaving the bit of vine in one of
her braids as the line started.
A pasteboard plate received the necessary silver, hot beans spooned
out of the kettle by one councillor, two or three “wieners” forked
out by the presiding masculine genius of the fire, the bread and
butter for the sandwiches, mustard if one wanted it, the good
“picnic pickles” and a sanitary cup for either water or milk.
Dessert was to come later, delicious watermelons, not brought down
the hill, but served nearer the entrance to the pine grove.
Evening came at last. Camp garb was laid aside for the pretty summer
dresses appropriate to the occasion. The girls thought that the bell
would never ring. The finishing touches seemed to take the
councillors forever! But at last the big bell clanged out its
invitation, and the girls came hurrying down the hill.
The dining-room looked almost like a bit of the pine grove, for the
rafters were covered by the green branches of the whole trees that
had been brought to deck the place, and stood around the supporting
pillars and at the sides of the room. White pine, balsam and
arborvitæ filled the dining hall with spicy odor. And if any were
shocked at the cutting of these big “Christmas trees”, they might
have been told that they were carefully selected where thinning was
necessary and where the trees would never have reached a perfect
maturity when all had grown larger.
“O, isn’t it a dream!” exclaimed Lilian, as she found the place card
with her name on it at the same table with Cathalina, Hilary, Betty
and Eloise. “Look at these darling menu cards!”
“And read it,” said Hilary. “They’re too funny. Let’s see if we can
make out what the different things really are.”
“What do you suppose ‘Brunswick Special’ is?” wondered Cathalina.
“Maybe our pickles,” said Eloise. “No, it isn’t in the right
place,—O, I know, corn!”
“And the ‘Young Fried Flappers’ are the fried chickens, of course,
and Charlotte Young’s name.”
“Here’s ‘Piggly Wiggly’, now what can that be?”
“Look at the place on the menu; O, that’s the jelly, to be sure.”
“‘Truant’s Delight’ must be the ice-cream, and Virginia sauce must
be something we have over it and called in honor of Virgie!”
Just before the courses were served, the councillors in a long line,
with their giddy postage stamp caps and ruffled aprons, sang a brief
song beginning, “O, we are the councillors gay, tra-la,” and were
greeted with the hearty applause of appreciation and given, both
collectively and individually, the “rah-rahs” of Merrymeeting. But
ah, those plates of fried chicken, mashed potato and hot rolls! And
the platters of steaming corn, served because of its popularity.
From bouillon to salted almonds and candy, the refreshments seemed
to be a success and the councillors saw to it that each girl had all
she wanted. The hour was early, even if dinner was a trifle late.
More than one heart beat a little faster when the table which held
the three cups and little packages marked with different names was
moved to the center. Chairs were moved back and turned to face in
the right direction. The head councillors, in a brief speech full of
charm and sincerity, spoke of the camp ideals and of what these
prizes would represent, then began to call the names and present to
each the prize which she had worked for and won. Not all could win
distinction. Some girlish hopes were bound to be disappointed,
either when expectation was greater than the facts warranted, or
when the contest was so close that no one could tell how the vote
would turn.
Hilary won the ring; Lilian, Cathalina, Eloise and Isabel, pins.
Hilary’s record was unblemished by any tardiness or absence. She had
identified birds and flowers, taken the hikes, climbed Mt.
Washington, and had been so generally helpful and well liked that
some of the girls had voted for her to have the senior cup. Lilian
had won the tennis tournament, and Cathalina had won second place,
having vanquished all her opponents but Lilian. Isabel, in addition
to a long list of activities, had won the swimming meet. Eloise,
like Lilian, had been especially good with the musical affairs, and
had made points in all lines. Both musical notes and a paddle for
canoeing were on her headband, with the usual symbols. Betty had not
quite enough points for a pin, but received arm band and diamond.
The suspense was great when it came to awarding the honor cups to
the girls who had been considered and voted the best campers.
Frances of the seniors, Charlotte Young of the intermediates, a
sweet girl, whose election was practically unanimous, and little
June Lancaster of the juniors, were announced. June was quite
overcome and went forward for her trophy in great trepidation, while
Hilary beamed with pride in her little sister. The girls in excited
groups gathered to see the prizes of those who had won them, and
then gradually left the dining hall, looking back to see the
prettily decorated tables and the tired, but happy councillors who
were about to consume the rest of the chicken!
The great event was over. Packing and leave-taking were close at
hand. A few days more saw the girls on the eve of their final
departure. Many times had they floated away from the little dock,
but always to return.
The house party planned by Cathalina was really to be carried out.
The girls’ trunks were to go by train to New York, but Mrs. Van
Buskirk and Philip were to meet them with the big car in Bath,
whence by easy stages they would travel to the Van Buskirk home.
Cathalina, Lilian, Hilary, Betty, Campbell and Philip were the young
people of the party. Philip and Campbell would drive the car by
turns.
At last all were ready. The boats were waiting. A bright sun had
shone out, after a dark morning, to render the last pictures of
Merrymeeting things of beauty and a joy forever. As the boats moved
off, there was waving of many hands to the few campers left standing
upon the dock.
An unexpected hush fell upon the girls in the Aeolus, and to
Isabel’s great surprise she felt a lump in her throat and several
tears trickling down her cheeks. Two or three of the girls were
openly crying.
“Mercy, girls,” said Isabel, “this will never do! Come on and sing!
Lilian and Eloise, start something!”
“Camping Days,” suggested Eloise, and in a moment, to the old tune
of “College Days”, the cheerful voices of contented campers, looking
forward to their trip and home, mingled with the chugging of the
engine and the splashing of waters.
Don’t you remember those camping days?—
Peppy girls and their peppy ways,
Swims and hikes to beat the band,
H’m—m’m, and wasn’t it grand?
Plenty of things for you to do,
Volley, basketball, tennis, too;
Time went so fast, it couldn’t last,—
Back in those camping days!
Don’t you remember those camp fire nights,
After the sunset’s glowing lights?
Songs we sang and cheers so loud,
H’m—m’m, and the great old crowd
Starts to Brunswick, city of dreams,
Never will get there, so it seems,
Time went so fast, it couldn’t last,
Back in those camping days.
When you’re home, you’ll think of the fun
In days of rain or days of sun,
One point off if you were late,
H’m—m’m, and wasn’t it great?
Don’t you remember the Sunday _Moon_?
Hope next summer will come real soon!
Time went so fast, it couldn’t last,—
Back in those camping days!