pool several times, he came near Zan and wanted to play. He snapped
at her hair as it floated on the water, and tagging hard, ducked her
under, so that she had to catch hold of his leg to make him let go.
Then, seeing Hilda and Elena trying to swim a few yards, Wickee caught
hold of a floating stick of wood and carried it to Elena. The stick
caught in her hair and she, too, went under.
Wickee then tried to catch Hilda's sleeve, but she was too quick for
him, and was on her feet before he could get hold of her.
After an hour of fun, Miss Miller warned the girls of the time, and
went toward her tent. After a few more plunges, the girls came out;
Wickee shook himself and flopped down on the warm rock to dry.
At supper, Miss Miller said, "To-morrow is Sunday. We will observe the
day in the way we have been taught. If any one feels it is not right to
take a little plunge in the pool, or go for a walk, or anything we do
daily, let that one follow her own conscience. I, for one, will take
my usual bath, and read in the morning. After dinner, I will join any
one who wishes to go for a short walk. After supper I expect to sit and
enjoy the sunset and the twilight."
"We will do the same, Miss Miller," said the girls, so the question of
the Sabbath was quietly decided once for all.
The girls all spent the Sabbath morning writing letters home, and to
friends. Zan's letter was composed mostly of exclamations of delight
over camping and requests for her mother to send various articles to
the camp before she left for the beach. The ice-cream freezer was
mentioned not less than four times throughout the letter, so you
can see that Zan never refused a treat of ice-cream if she had an
opportunity to accept any.
Monday morning the postman left several letters in the mail-box in
front of Sherwoods' house. Zan saw him going down the Bridge road and
called to Miss Miller, "I'll run down and see if he left any mail for
us!" And was off before any one could wink.
Coming back to camp, she displayed a number of letters, among them, one
for Miss Miller from her father, and another for Nita, post-marked at
the adjoining post-office.
"Who do you know down around here?" queried Zan, looking at the writing.
"None of your business--give it to me!" snapped Nita, angrily, grabbing
the letter from Zan's hand.
"Pooh! I should worry!" sneered Zan, also angry. "The writing looks
just like Bob's did when he was ten years old! I'd find some one who
could write a decent hand!"
Zan was not aware of the fact that she had touched upon a tender
subject between Nita and Miss Miller, and Nita did not dare answer
while the Guide stood there; but Miss Miller said to Zan, "It really is
too bad that you are piling up bad marks on your page! That slang just
used ought to have ten marks given you." The tone in which sentence was
pronounced was worse for Zan to bear than all the marks ever thought of.
Miss Miller walked away to her tent, there to read her letter in peace,
but Zan felt heartily ashamed of her anger and was willing to ask
pardon. Nita, however, had gone up the path through the ravine. Be it
known that she had her letter in her middy blouse, however.
In the privacy of her tent, Miss Miller opened the letter which was a
reply to the one she had sent the doctor. It was as follows:
"My dear Miss Miller:
I read with deep concern the information you sent I called upon
Mrs. Brampton immediately and had a long talk with her about Nita's
disease--for it is a disease finding its birth in the mental realm.
Mrs. Brampton cried of course, and then told me of a great deal of the
worry she has had during the last two years. I have been called in now
and then to prescribe for Mrs. Brampton or Nita, while Mr. Brampton has
his own doctor downtown whenever he thinks he needs medical advice.
Nita has not been ill in the past two years, and Mrs. Brampton has only
called upon me for minor ailments, so I have not had occasion to have
any serious talks with Nita's mother about the girl's well-being. I
heard, with regret, that she had developed a dangerous habit of secrecy
from her mother and friends. She dislikes to take part in anything
that calls for physical exercise, deep thinking, or help for others.
She is continually making excuses for shortcomings and has recently
been misrepresenting truth to her mother as the easiest way to account
for her time and actions. I think that I would have separated my girl
from such companionship had I known the evil to be guarded against.
As it is, I wonder if it is best for all at camp to continue having
an influence such as Nita creates, about you. It will be your duty
to decide; all I can do now is to assist in any way you may need my
services.
"One extenuating reason for the girl's behaviour, I think we ought to
take into consideration. Her mother told me of Nita's early years.
The child was ushered into this world under unfavourable conditions.
Mrs. Brampton is a very delicate woman and the baby had no strength
with which to start the battle of life. All prepared foods disagreed
with the stomach and the frail little child was merely a skeleton
until after a year's time. It then became noticeable that the child
was gaining slowly in health, strength and general behaviour. From the
second year on, Nita grew much the same as other children, but always
seemed two years behind the average normal child.
"At ten years, when I first was called to diagnose an illness of the
girl's, I was surprised to find how matured she was in her ways and
speech--all of which showed me that her _thoughts_ were too mature
for her age. Instead of a teasing, fun-loving child I found a quiet,
indolent-loving young lady who constantly ate candy and read books five
years in advance of her age. I told her mother than, that Nita needed
tom-boy companions to interest her in physical development, and more
bread and butter, with possibly a bit of jam spread on it now and then,
instead of sweets, highly-seasoned salads and desserts, and the wine
that Mr. Brampton always has with dinner. He has always been amused to
see his little daughter sip from his glass and Mrs. Brampton told me
that she could see no harm in having a child accustomed to wine, just
the same as my children are accustomed to water at our table. In fact,
she said that she pitied children who were never permitted to taste
drinks and then went all to pieces when they grew up and went out into
the world to be tempted with alcohol and tobacco.
"I found that she was not capable of discerning facts from fancy, so I
did not waste more time trying to explain then; but I told my daughter
to try and wean the girl from undesirable habits, and I often invited
Nita to visit at our home. Perhaps, this was a mistake. It remains to
be seen whether Zan has enough character and self-control to come out
of contamination without a scar."
At this point of the long letter, Miss Miller looked out of the
tent-opening and smiled, murmuring, "I think any child that sensible
man trains can associate with and not become contaminated by evils."
Miss Miller continued reading the enlightening lines after a few
moments' thought.
"Two years after my first introduction to Nita's family I was called
again to examine the girl. That was when she was twelve. I found
that Mrs. Brampton failed to follow my directions regarding food and
sleep. She said it was such a nuisance to argue with Mr. Brampton and
Nita over the wine and viands that would give a high-liver chronic
indigestion, to say nothing of a delicate child! She also said that
she remonstrated with Nita about sitting up late reading stories and
always nibbling candy. But Nita had a will of her own! And the past
year the dear child had been invited to such nice parties that she (the
mother) was glad to have her meet more friends of her own or a much
higher class, consequently health was sacrificed to social ambition.
She explained at the time, what a graceful dancer Nita was and how
people loved to have her attend evening dances and exhibit her gift for
their pleasure. There was no use trying to disguise the truth which was
self-evident: Mrs. Brampton was a foolish proud mother to whom flattery
of anything her child did was incense at her own altar. Instead of the
girl being tucked into flannelette nighties with feet so she could kick
all night in bed without cold from exposure, she was flossed up in
organdy and tulle ruffles with white silk stockings and shoes and shown
off at dances--all for vain-glory.
"The vicious training--I mean bad, senseless, evil influence, by that
word vicious--of her life had actually developed a backward delicate
organism into matured girl-hood three years in advance of what is
normal.
"I watched with deep interest this product of senseless motherhood for
I was eager to help others by comparison with the results of my own
endeavours. I often visited, without being called upon, to direct and
help the girl to a better status of health and aspiration. I do not
think I succeeded very well. I had the parents' foolishness to battle
again. Perhaps I laid the seed of a higher life which will grow and bud
during your care this summer, while her parents are out of reach. It is
to be hoped for. This makes it a matter of deepest thought before she
is sent back home without further trial. But at the same time others
are to be considered.
"I believe the habit of taking a tiny drink of wine at dinner has
resulted, during the last two years, in chronic intermittent heart-beat
and accelerated circulation. This will, or has, induced inflammability
of the brain which, in turn, has acted upon organs supposed to be
dormant for years to come. The trashy novels Nita has been permitted to
read have also caused high-tension thoughts foreign to all nature. Even
an adult of experience and self-control is not benefited physically or
mentally by reading or watching a play, based on immoral emotions, or
the suggestions of them.
"Now the question confronts us--you and me--has the atmosphere hitherto
surrounding the girl been so subtle in its evil influence that it is
past coping with? Or can we, by taking deep thought of ways and means,
convert this individual who is on a steep descent toward licentious
living and later, chronic invalidism, to be eventually claimed by
some frightful disease as payment in full for ungodly habits, into a
physical success--one who desires clean living, simple loving, and
pure thinking!"
With the last inspiring paragraph the letter ended, only a short phrase
of "Yours earnestly," and the signature.
Miss Miller sat for a long time pondering the letter, and read several
parts of it again. Then she rose with a sigh of responsibility and
locked the communication in her bag.
"Where did Nita go?" asked the Guide, joining the girls.
"Up the ravine," replied Jane.
"Well, the day is clear and I think we can plan to camp out to-night.
It will be our first lesson in star-gazing, too!" laughed Miss Miller,
hiding her concern over Nita's absence.
"What are we going to do this morning--and this afternoon, too?" asked
Zan.
"I believe we will need some vegetables from the garden, and I thought
we might learn how to bake cake for dessert."
"Goody! That will be fun! Shall we divide up?" said Hilda.
"No, a short walk to the garden will be good for all; then we can all
take a hand in baking the cake."
"I wonder why Nita doesn't want to take part in our fun," ventured
Jane, who was being disillusioned very rapidly regarding her admiration
for the graceful pretty miss.
"She has never had an opportunity to act as freely and in the
open as you have, perhaps. Her home life has cooped her with its
conventionalities until she feels lost in this rural life. We must be
patient with her and try, by example, to show how undesirable are the
frothy perishable things of social butterflies," said Miss Miller.
Nita returned before the Band was quite ready to leave camp for the
garden. Her efforts to be agreeable made the girls believe that she was
sorry for her ill-humor and would be pleasant thereafter. The Guide
saw beneath the veneer of smiles and wondered if the letter dated
from the adjoining post-office had anything to do with Nita's present
good-nature.
The vegetables selected, Miss Miller said, "Our cake will have to
be baked in the oven at the house. I think there will be all the
ingredients necessary in the pantry. Zan can show us where the tins are
kept, for I thought a jelly cake would be the best to make to-day."
"Oh, yes. I love layer cake!" cried Elena.
The rest signified their anticipation of the cake in various ways, and
by the time the house was reached every one was sure the cake would be
delicious.
"Oh, pooh! I'm so hot after that garden work! Let's sit under the tree
and cool off," suggested Hilda.
"You didn't complain of heat while we were working in the garden," said
Miss Miller.
"Just because I didn't feel it then! We were having such fun with the
vegetables that I never thought of it!"
"No, isn't it queer? I never feel hot when I am playing tennis or
rowing on the lake--but afterwards--my!"
"Then you lead me to believe that when your thought is filled with
pleasurable pursuits, such as gardening, tennis, or rowing, the heat
is never noticed--it is afterwards, when you are mentally seeking for
something to divert your thoughts against, that the suggestion reaches
your body, 'My, but I am warm!'"
The girls expressed their interest in individual ways, Hilda finally
saying, "Miss Miller, you certainly do a heap of _thinking_! I never
saw anybody who could take us up so quick on anything that could be
turned into a lesson!"
"I do not wish you to feel that I am always seeking for a suitable
reason to teach a lesson, but some of these opportunities you offer me
are too good to lose track of," said the Guide, anxiously looking at
each girl.
"Oh, don't worry! We don't mind a bit! In fact, I thoroughly enjoy your
ideas--they correspond so exactly with Dad's," replied Zan, getting up
from the grass where she had thrown herself.
"Where're you going, Zan?" asked Nita.
"Kitchen! I'm going to get interested and forget how warm the sun tried
to fool me into believing!"
The others laughed but got up from the grass and followed Zan.
"Here's the tins, and there's the baking-powder! Maybe it isn't
good--it's been here all winter!" said Zan.
Miss Miller examined the can. "It's the best powder made, and if
the pantry is dry all winter and spring, there will be no loss of
properties in the powder. It pays to use the best products we can get;
by that I do not mean the most expensive, for often one pays more for
advertised products that are really inferior than for one which is pure
but not so costly in marketing the brand."
"Well, you brought eggs, milk, and butter--what else do we need for the
cake?" said Nita.
"Flour--I know there is some here, for I left it the first morning we
ate here," replied Miss Miller, going to the cupboard.
"And the jelly--Zan can get that," continued the Guide.
Nita was ordered to measure out a cupful of sugar, Elena to grease the
jelly tins very thoroughly and spread a small piece of oiled paper on
the bottom of each pan. Hilda was started beating two eggs, and Jane
rubbing a lump of butter well into the sugar. Nita, having finished her
measuring, was called upon to assist the Guide in building a fire in
the stove.
Miss Miller reached the conclusion that by having Nita help her more
she would keep her in closer personal association with her and this
perhaps might benefit the girl.
"First you crumple some paper up loosely and place it in the
fire-pit," said Miss Miller, showing Nita how to go about it. "Next,
lay some fine kindlings this way and that--if you threw them upon the
paper any way they may burn and again they may not; if you build them
up so there is a liberal air-space for the smoke and fire to rise
toward the chimney, the wood will always take fire readily. Now, the
kindlings just right, you can lay a few heavy pieces of split wood on
top. That's right, so now we'll light the paper from _underneath_!
Never from the open lid on top."
The other girls left their tasks and watched the lesson in
fire-building. Nita said, "Why not--I should think the easiest way
would be to drop a match down to the paper while you have the stove-lid
off!"
Miss Miller felt well repaid for her trouble by seeing Nita sincerely
interested.
"First, the smoke rises and may cause one unpleasant choking or
watering eyes. Then, too, the open lid prevents the draft that
circulates from chimney down the back of the stove and underneath where
ashes accumulate and up against the fire-pit to force a fire higher. If
you lean over I will show you the back-damper."
Miss Miller took off the last back lid on the top of the stove and
showed the girls a closed damper. By pushing in a small key just over
the oven which the girls had never noticed on a stove before, she
demonstrated how the little door dropped back and left the current of
air and smoke to escape from the fire and rise through the chimney.
She also pointed out the wide mouth at the back of the stove that
permitted the air from the chimney to go down and find its way into the
ash-pit directly under the fire.
"If your ash-pit is filled with ashes the fire never will force any
heat into the oven, of top-lids. It may burn slowly, but not until the
ashes are removed can you look for any right result in your stove!
Lazy house-keepers dislike to take out ashes and keep on heaping coal
on top of their fire; that only burns out the enduring qualities in
your stove top. A fire that barely reached to the top of the fire-pit
is always best, and to keep it at that height you must keep the ashes
that are always forming under the fire well raked down until you see
a red reflection at the under side of the grate. If you do not quite
understand, I can show you later, when the cake is in the oven."
Nita then knelt down before the fire-pit and carefully placed a burning
match under the paper. It flared up and in a few seconds, they all
heard wood crackling. But smoke backed out of the lids and seemed to be
ready to burst the stove-pipe.
"Oh, Miss Miller, what's wrong?" cried Zan, anxiously.
Miss Miller smiled and said, "After my lesson, can't one of you
discover the trouble?"
The girls coughed and rubbed their eyes but no one had an idea what
to do. Smoke kept pouring forth while they looked about for some clue
to the knowledge which the Guide seemed to keep to herself. Finally,
they had to give up, and she immediately took hold of a key, similar
to the oven damper, that was seen in the stove-pipe, and turned it up
vertically. Immediately the smoke was released into the chimney, it
stopped coming from the stove.
"Well! what a simple thing to do!" exclaimed Zan.
"Now, if you run out and look up you will see smoke pouring from the
kitchen chimney," said the Guide.
"We'll take your word for it--we're anxious to bake the cake," laughed
Elena.
More wood was placed on the fire and a few minutes after Miss Miller
poured a small quantity of coal on the wood.
"Now it will burn without our watching, and we can go back to the
cake. Hilda, measure two teaspoonfuls of baking powder into two cups
of sifted flour. Zan, take the spermaceti from the jelly. Wash it off
carefully and leave it in the closet to use for waxing our irons when
we do our laundry."
"I've often wondered what this thing was on top of the jelly and
preserves," said Zan, examining the hardened cake.
"What is that put on for?" asked Elena, while the others watched Zan
remove it.
"It keeps the jelly or other preserves from the air. In case of canned
or preserved things, air causes fermentation. With jelly, tiny flies
settle and eat the top, finally making it sour and unfit to use. This
wax is poured on top of the jar while it is in a melted condition;
it soon hardens and forms a close sealed top. It does not injure the
quality of jelly or wax, so it is waste to throw away the wax when it
is serviceable in other ways."
Zan had removed the spermaceti while the Guide spoke, and stood
awaiting further orders. "Muzzer always put some flavour in our
cakes--we all like vanilla," said she.
"It would be better to eat if we had any, but I forgot to have any
extracts sent here," said Miss Miller.
"I'll look in the cupboard, maybe there will be some left over from
last year," Zan hastened to say, and ran over to investigate. "Yes,
here's half a bottle!"
The flavouring extract was added after eggs and a cup of milk had
been stirred together, and, lastly, the flour with powder was mixed
in. The batter resulting was just a bit thicker than a self-spreading
concoction would be. Miss Miller poured it out into the three pans and
the girls spread it over the bottom.
"I can judge the right heat in an oven by thrusting in my hand, but
many housekeepers use a thermometer to ascertain the right temperature
for baking," said Miss Miller, trying the oven as she spoke.
In a moment she added, "Bring the tins--the oven's ready!"
She opened the oven-door carefully a few times during the ten minutes
the cakes were baking, while the girls hung over her shoulders and
sniffed delightedly. Then the tins were taken out and the cakes removed
to cool before spreading the jelly over each layer. When one layer was
placed on top of the other, the cake presented a most tempting look.
"We won't bother to ice this one, as we ought to make a corn-starch
pudding for dinner while the stove is hot. And remember, girls, these
things all go to help win a _coup_!" reminded Miss Miller.
While the girls stirred the ingredients for the simple pudding, the
Guide asked, "Do you know where starch comes from?"
They looked thoughtful for a time, then Zan said, "I think I have
heard, but I never took much notice of it."
"Well, starch is found in potatoes. Of course there are many starchy
products but potatoes form the principal supply. We find starch in
cereals--in rice, corn and sago. As you can see, the starch we used
just now is made of corn. If one uses cold water to dissolve starch, it
forms a paste, while hot water forms it into globules that are used to
stiffen linen and articles."
The pudding was finished and the Guide thought it a pity to waste such
fine heat. So it was decided to cook the vegetables for dinner and save
time at camp.
"Prepare to give me a merit!" cried Zan. "I propose that we eat dinner
on the lawn for a change!"
All assented, so Zan exclaimed, "Gee, that was easy!"
"Oh, Zan, Zan! You are absolutely hopeless!" sighed the Guide, while
all the girls laughed.
"_Now_ what's the matter?" wondered Zan.
"Don't you know? You win a merit one moment and deserve a demerit the
next! You are so accustomed to slang that you never realise when you
use it!" said Miss Miller.
"Dear me! I suppose I shall be tottering in old age before I ever can
outgrow the habit!" sighed Zan.
"Not tottering, Zan, but doddering!" laughed Jane.
While the girls prepared dinner on the lawn Miss Miller was engaged in
making an experiment. After dinner she invited the girls to the cool
porch to see what she had done.
"Before we return to camp, I am going to show you a very interesting
test in chemistry. One that will cause you to wonder how people who
know the action of this poison can deliberately imbibe it and consider
it worth all of their manhood, womanhood, and honour!"
On the porch the girls found that Miss Miller had visited the doctor's
little office where he kept his chemicals and apparatus. A few test
tubes and a glass retort stood on the table by the side of some medical
bottles.
"I have here a hard-boiled egg. I am not going to eat it, but use it
for the experiment that will show you what a mistake it is to put
anything in the human stomach that hinders the digestion as thoroughly
as alcohol does."
Miss Miller cracked the egg and crumbled a little of the hard white
into each of the two test-tubes.
"The powder in this bottle of Dr. Baker's is pepsin; it is made in the
stomach and digests what we eat," explained Miss Miller, as she shook
the bottle to loosen the powder that clung to the glass sides.
"Now, I am going to add a pinch of pepsin to the contents in these
tubes."
The pepsin was added to the egg and then the Guide filled each tube
half full with water.
Taking up two other bottles, she held them up to view and said, "One of
these contains an acid--hydrochloric acid, and the other holds an acid
called lactic. Both help to digest our food."