Ethel Hollister's Second Summer as a Campfire Girl
By IRENE ELLIOTT BENSON
1912
CONTENTS
SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING BOOK
I--ETHEL'S PLANS
II--ETHEL ENTERS COLLEGE
III--ETHEL AND HARVEY BECOME FIRM FRIENDS
IV--ETHEL'S SECOND TRIP
V--CAMP AGAIN
VI--UNCLE JOHN'S
VII--MRS. HOLLISTER'S VISIT TO CAMP
VIII--THE SCOUTS ARRIVE
IX--NORA GIVES SERVICE
X--A HEROINE
XI--BREAKING UP OF CAMP AND A SURPRISE
XII--MATTIE MAKES GOOD
XIII--JUDGE SANDS AND KATE MARRY
XIV--A BIRTHDAY PRESENT
XV--MRS. HOLLISTER ENTERTAINS
XVI--CHRISTMAS EVE
XVII--CHRISTMAS DAY
XVIII--ANOTHER SURPRISE
XIX--MR. CASEY BUYS A HOUSE
XX--ARCHIBALD'S CHANGE FOR THE BETTER
SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING BOOK
Ethel would have never become a Camp Fire Girl excepting for her
great-aunt Susan.
Susan Carpenter was her Grandmother Hollister's only sister, living in
Akron, Ohio. Her family consisted of Mr. Thomas Harper and herself. Tom's
parents had been her friends, and when they were taken Aunt Susan legally
adopted him and his little brother Fred, but the younger one died before
graduating, while Tom went through college and was now a rising young
lawyer.
Aunt Susan Carpenter was a philanthropist. At the time of her adopting
the boys she was reputed to be a millionaire. She gave her beautiful home
to the city for an Asylum for partially insane people and endowed it with
fifty thousand dollars, after which the leading men in town raised fifty
thousand more, thereby making it self-supporting. She was also on the
board of managers of many other charities, and was adored by her
townspeople.
Four years previous to her visit to New York, she had lost every penny of
her immense fortune,--lost it through the rascality of a large and well
advertised concern calling itself the "Great Western Cereal Company." The
whole thing was a rotten affair from the first and was floated by ten
unscrupulous men who after obtaining all the money they could fled from
the country before the exposure came; that is, save three, one of whom
was arrested while the other two committed suicide. Aunt Susan wrote
nothing of it to her sister lest it should worry her, and as she had
never met her nephew's family in New York, and they knowing no one in
Akron, they were in ignorance of the change in Aunt Susan's affairs and
still thought her a wealthy woman.
Mrs. Archibald Hollister--Ethel's mother--was worldly and ambitious;
not so much for herself as for her daughter. Grand-mother Hollister,
whose husband had belonged to one of New York's oldest families, owned
the house in which they lived, free and clear. It was an old-fashioned
brown-stone affair near Riverside Drive. Archibald, her son, paid the
taxes in lieu of rent, but as his salary was only three thousand a year
it was extremely difficult to make both ends meet, and Grandmother had no
money save what was in the house. But Mrs. Archie was clever. She could
make a dollar do the work of five. With her own hands she would fashion
for Ethel the most dainty and up-to-date gowns, wraps, hats, etc.,
imaginable.
The Hollisters kept but one maid. She always appeared trim and tidy, yet
she did the entire housework. Upon the days that Mrs. Archie gave bridge
parties or afternoon teas for Ethel's young friends, she hired two extra
girls who had been so perfectly trained that the guests never once
doubted but that they were part of the household--allowing to Mrs.
Archie's clever management.
Ethel attended a fashionable school costing her father more money than he
could afford, but she met there the very best class of girls and really
formed for herself the most desirable acquaintances. Her mother scrimped
and saved in every way possible, while the guests who came to the
old-fashioned house with its handsome antique furniture and portraits
were wont to declare that "the Hollisters were certainty aristocratic and
of blue blood, as their house showed it--so severe and yet elegant." So
Mrs. Archie felt that the Hollister name alone should procure for Ethel a
monied husband, and she held it constantly before the girl. She must
associate only with those in the "upper circle," and marry a man who
could give her a "fine establishment."
Among Ethel's school friends was a girl--Nannie Bigelow by name--of
whom she was very fond. Nannie had a brother in Yale whom she (Ethel)
disliked. He was a member of the ultra fashionable set and was desirous
of making a wealthy match, as his family as well had little but their
name. One of his sisters had married a titled man and lived abroad. It
was Mrs. Hollister's ambition to have Ethel like Harvey Bigelow, although
she knew that he had as little money as she. She tried to adjust things
satisfactorily, and being a clever woman she hit upon a plan which we
shall reveal later. Of course, the girl was only sixteen and must first
graduate. Ethel, who had imbibed many of her mother's fallacies, did not
openly rebel. She was quite a little snob in her way, nor did she realize
what the family daily sacrificed for her, although her heart smote her
when she saw how her father was aging, for she adored him; nor were her
eyes opened until after she had joined the Camp Fire.
Grandmother Hollister had two sons, John and Archie. Kate Hollister was
the daughter of the former. They lived in Columbus, Ohio, and Kate had
been invited to visit her New York relatives. She was a tall, handsome
girl much older than Ethel, for she was over thirty. Kate was the
Guardian of a company of eight Camp Fire Girls called the "Ohio." She had
told her grandmother and Ethel all about the new movement one evening,
and Ethel who loved the romantic side of camping out was crazy to have
Kate obtain permission from her mother to let her join, as her father had
said that she might visit Columbus that coming summer. But lo! when she
spoke to Mrs. Archie--or Aunt Bella--about it she was politely snubbed.
When Kate tried to explain how wonderful was the organization and what
benefit a girl--especially a delicate girl like Ethel--could derive from
belonging, the lady sneered and likened it to the Salvation Army and
forbade her guest from mentioning it to the girl or even speaking of it
in her presence. But alas! the deed had been done and Ethel knew of it;
but while in New York Kate had refrained from again touching on the
subject. At that time an aunt of one of Ethel's schoolmates had formed a
company and many of the swell set had joined. Ethel longed to belong but
dared not offend her mother.
Now for Mrs. Hollister's plan. She suddenly conceived the idea of
inviting Aunt Susan on for a visit, supposedly to give Grandmother a
chance to see her only sister once more, but in reality to have Ethel
ingratiate herself with the old lady, thereby causing her to leave the
girl the bulk of her fortune. Ethel read between the lines and at first
refused, but after listening to her mother for a while and thinking
perhaps she was right, she allowed herself to promise to further the
plan.
Aunt Susan was a woman with fine eyes and teeth, as well as a charming
manner, but her style of dressing dated back to the eighties--full
skirts, flat hats with strings, beaded plush dolmans, etc. Ethel was
ashamed to be seen with her but she had promised to help and she had to
do her share. In the meanwhile her mother had spread the report that Aunt
Susan was a millionaire and that Ethel was to have her fortune at her
death. Everyone fell in love with Aunt Susan and ascribed her peculiar
dressing to the eccentricities of a wealthy woman.
Mrs. Hollister's joy knew no bounds when Aunt Susan invited Ethel to
return with her to Akron. Her scheme was beginning to work. Ethel was a
lovely girl. Aunt Susan would grow fond of her and the fortune was
assured. Besides, as it would cost a small fortune to take Ethel to a
fashionable summer resort, Mrs. Archie could save money for the winter.
But, accompanying the invitation, Aunt Susan requested that during July
and August, Ethel might join her other grand niece's "Camp Fires" and
live in the woods. "It will be the making of your girl," she added,
"as now she looks thin and peaked."
At first Mrs. Archie indignantly refused. She almost felt that she had
been trapped, but Aunt Susan met every objection and even told the lady
that she feared she was shallow and an unnatural mother to refuse to
consider her daughter's health. Mrs. Archie dared not let Aunt Susan know
that she considered the whole organization conspicuous and common, nor
that she did not wish Ethel to learn to do the work of a servant, etc.,
or run the risk of meeting girls of humble origin. So after some sharp
rebukes administered to her by the old lady on the sin of worldliness
and the fact that she was not doing a mother's duty by her daughter, she
consented, mentally declaring that she would see that Ethel should forget
all about it on her return.
While visiting Aunt Susan and living in Camp in a truthful atmosphere
Ethel Hollister began to change. She saw how the old lady was beloved.
She heard on every side of the good she had done, and when one day Aunt
Susan told her that she had been a wife and mother, and what she had
suffered at the hands of a brutal husband, she was spellbound. For years
she had been deserted, but when one day he was supposed to be dying she
was sent for that he might beg her forgiveness. She went and found that
for four years he had been stone blind and that he had sunk so low that
she shrank from the squalid house in which he was living. She took him
away and stayed with him until his death, making the last days of his
life more bearable.
As the girl listened and thought of the old lady's goodness and how she
was visiting her and making over her old gowns, hats, etc., into
fashionable ones to ingratiate herself for an object she saw herself as
she was--a hypocrite--and she fell on her knees to Aunt Susan confessing
everything and begging her forgiveness, whereupon the old lady took her
in her arms and told her that she knew everything--that Grandmother and
she had made up their minds that Ethel might lose her worldliness under
different environments. Then she told her of the loss of her fortune and
the girl was glad, saying as she kissed her, "Now you know that I love
you for yourself, Aunt Susan."
Ethel liked Tom Harper. He was a fine young man. He supported Aunt Susan
and gave her a liberal allowance but she banked nearly all of it, as she
told Ethel "to have something at her death to leave to those whom she
loved."
After visiting her Uncle John's family, whom she liked at once, Kate,
Ethel, and the eight girls started for Camp. It was situated in a stretch
of woods on the banks of the Muskingum river. One of the girls--Patty
Sands--became Ethel's chum. She was motherless and the only child of
Judge Sands, ex-congressman of Ohio, and greatly respected. The rest of
the girls were also congenial save two--one a Mattie Hastings, whom Ethel
avoided saying that her eyes were too close together. Mattie's parents
were poor people but she was one of Kate's Sunday School class and has
asked to be allowed to join the "Ohios." The other girl was a large,
raw-boned Irish girl, or rather of Irish parentage. Her voice was shrill
and unpleasant, while her hair was black and her eyes dark blue and
lovely, her face was covered with freckles and she dressed loudly and in
bad taste. Pat Casey--her father---was one of the wealthiest men in town.
He was a contractor and an honest, respectable man, but his wife was
a pusher, trying to bluff her way into society. She was ignorant and
disagreeable. People refused to receive her. Nora had been only half
educated at a convent. Mrs. Casey, hearing of the Camp Fire Girls,
bethought herself that it would be an opening for Honora, so she boldly
called upon Miss Kate and asked--yes, begged--that Nora might belong; and
Kate, who was kind-hearted, received the girl to the great joy of Mrs.
Pat. Having been born in the old country, both parents spoke with a
brogue. Occasionally, from association, Nora would use it; then she would
stop suddenly, turn red, and speak perfect English. Ethel disliked her
even more than she did Mattie.
One day as she was helping wash dishes she lost a valuable diamond ring.
It had been her Grandmother's engagement ring and she was heart-broken.
Although they searched everywhere no trace of it could they find, but as
they were walking up the hill a week or so afterwards they thought they
saw Mattie Hastings through the trees. They called as a jest, "We've seen
you and you're discovered--come out!" Whereupon someone shrieked, and
proceeding to the spot they found Mattie lying upon the ground. She had
walked in the sun and had started to run and had fallen over some stumps.
Instantly they saw that she had been prostrated by the heat, and having
recently studied "First aid to the injured" they proceeded to remove her
blouse and open her corset, when lo! there upon a silver chain around her
neck was not only Ethel Hollister's ring but another belonging to Honora
Casey. She had missed it a few days after Ethel had lost hers, but she
wisely refrained from speaking of it to anyone but Patty Sands, adding,
"Shure, it would only be afther worryin' Miss Kate, and it might turn up.
I'll bide me time."
Mattie, upon recovering consciousness and seeing that her secret had been
discovered handed the rings to Ethel saying that she should kill herself.
The girls, seeing that she was desperate, replied that as one of their
"seven laws" was to "render service," if she would confess why she had
taken the rings they would shield her. Overjoyed, the girl did so. She
told everything. She had done it for her young sister who had dislocation
of the spine, whereby she might be converting them into money have the
child placed in the Cripples Hospital and treated. A physician had
assured her that the case was not incurable, and for two hundred dollars
the child could be watched and nursed, and eventually her spine might be
straightened. She said that since the accident that had made the child
as she was, her mother had become a drug fiend. One evening her cousin--a
young man who was a chauffeur--invited her mother to join a party and
they took a joy ride. On their way home, being under the influence of
wine, they knocked down and ran over a child near Mrs. Hasting's house.
Letting her out, they sped quickly on for fear of arrest. Upon
discovering that it was her own child, and what was worse, that from that
night she was to be a hopeless cripple, the mother nearly went insane.
Still she kept her secret and no one suspected that she had been one of
the parties in the car. Her remorse drove her to take the drug. Under its
influence she told Mattie. At that time the girl was earning six dollars
a week, three of which she was paying to her mother, supposing her to be
buying food for the invalid. When she discovered the truth she threatened
her with exposure and tried to buy little Mollie nourishing delicacies
herself, but three dollars would barely pay for the necessities of life,
and she became discouraged and desperate. In the store she saw a customer
drop her purse. She placed her foot upon it and when the lady had gone
she picked it up. The purse contained forty dollars and some cards, etc.
After depositing thirty-five dollars in the bank she took five and bought
the child fruit, books, and ice cream. It seemed to put new life into
Mollie. She took small articles from time to time, and pretending that
they had been given her she sold them. Her remorse was terrible. She was
unhappy. If only she could work harder and earn more. At that time she
heard of the Camp Fire Girls--of the useful and wonderful things that
they learned so that in time they became competent to demand and receive
large salaries. She loved Miss Kate and asked her if she might join. Kate
assented, and it was then that the girls first met her. Gradually the
desire to collect the two hundred dollars for Mollie came back, and with
it the temptation to steal. She took money from every girl. She was even
willing, after placing Mollie in the Hospital, to go to prison, if only
the child could be cured. She felt that some day she would be caught with
the goods. She adored Miss Kate and took nothing from her. Finally she
began taking jewelry to sell.
This morning she was on her way to find a hiding place for the two rings
and a diamond locket taken from another girl, when she heard Ethel and
Patty call. Then she was sure that they had discovered her secret, and
trying to run away she tripped and lost consciousness. "Now that I have
told you all," she added, "your father--Judge Sands--will send me up,"
and she sobbed piteously. Her grief was sincere. She had not stolen for
herself. She had been desperate. Pity crept into the hearts of the two
girls and they constituted themselves her friends. They made her replace
the jewelry in Nora's and Edna's suit cases. They found the lady's card
from whom she had taken the purse and had Mattie return the money and bag
with a note withholding her name. They had her draw out the money
obtained from the sale of the purloined articles and return it to the
head of the Department Store saying that the things had been taken and
sold under great provocation for a sick child, enumerating them and the
prices, after which she felt happier, for she knew that the girls would
remain her friends. "Some day," she said, "I may make good."
Ethel wrote and got Aunt Susan interested in little Mollie. Being a
manager of a Cripples School that lady at once placed her free of charge
in one of the wards as a boarder and pupil. The resident physician
said that in a year's time he should send her out cured. Poor Mr. and
Mrs. Hastings were overjoyed, while Mattie's gratitude knew no way to
express itself. She simply regarded Ethel and Patty with looks of
adoration, while in time they overcame their prejudice, Ethel even
kissing her goodbye.
There had been wrought in Ethel Hollister a great change. Much of her
pride and worldliness had dropped from her. She had gradually become an
earnest believer in truth despising all subterfuges and shams.
Upon her arrival home, Mrs. Hollister, while noting her new and splendid
health, was appalled at the change. From an obedient child, easily
convinced that no matter what her mother said was right, she had become
a girl of great character with ideas of her own. Mrs. Hollister angrily
denounced her mother-in-law and Aunt Susan, saying that it was their work
and that her child, for whom she had slaved all of her life, had become
wilful, stubborn and disobedient. "She even refuses to go into Society
this winter. She talks of taking up low down settlement work. She'll
end in becoming a suffragette, and standing on a soap box she'll address
the street rabble, perhaps wearing a large bonnet and standing beside a
kettle holiday time ringing a bell and holding out a tambourine,--a
Salvation Army woman. Oh! what a fool I was to let her go away from my
influence," and she sobbed,--"to toil and save for her to make a
brilliant match. See the way she rewards me. Why did I bring into this
world such an ungrateful child! It's all that wretched Camp Fire
business."
Then Ethel gently put her arm around her mother and told her that only
since she had been a Camp Fire girl had she appreciated how hard she had
worked for her. "I know, Mamma," she said, "how you and Papa, and even
Grandmamma, have sacrificed for me. I see myself as I have been, (not as
I am now)--a selfish, wicked girl, not even appreciating what you have
done for me, and I am appalled. I am going to do for you now. I am going
to see the roses come back into your cheeks and the wrinkles leave your
pretty face. Uncle John is Papa's senior by ten years but he looks much
younger--why? Because Papa is bent and worn getting money for me--for
us to make a show on. Everything is sham, Mamma, and let us give it
up--let us keep only friends who care for us ourselves and we shall be
happier. I shall take you up to camp next summer. You can help us so
much; you are so clever and can teach the girls. And as for a grand
marriage for me, I'll promise never to marry at all unless you approve of
the man, and I may make a better marriage than you dream of. So just let
us be happy and natural and live within our means," and she took her
sobbing mother in her arms.
Ethel Hollister's Second Summer as a Camp Fire Girl
CHAPTER I
ETHEL'S PLANS
The morning after Ethel had declared herself her mother came up to her
room. She could see that Mrs. Hollister had not slept and her eyes were
red from weeping. Ethel kissed her, saying:
"Mamma, we are going to be very happy together--you and I. I don't want
to disappoint you, dear, nor would I do so willingly; but I simply can
not live as I've been living. Sit down and let us talk."
Then she told of Aunt Susan,--of her kindness, unselfishness and
self-sacrifice. She told of Mattie and how they had helped her, and
of her Uncle John; of Patty and Judge Sands; and lastly of Kate and
what a wonderful character she was.
"Wait, dear, I want to show you my ceremonial gown," and she quickly
slipped it on. The girl's hair was still hanging unbound, having slept in
it that way, and she hooked about it her coronation band. Said her
mother:
"Well, I must say it is becoming. What a Pocahontas you would make in
private theatricals!" she exclaimed with maternal pride; "But then, why
should I speak of theatricals? You've given up all such things."
"Why, Mamma," laughed Ethel, "I'm not going into a convent. I have given
up nothing but the unreal part of life."
"I suppose you'll tell everyone how poor we are, and how I have put you
forward under false colors. Then people will despise me."
"No, Mamma, I shall not do a thing to put you in any awkward position.
Keep on. Give your teas for me if you wish,--even have the two extra
maids. It costs very little and we have a social time; it cheers
Grandmamma and there's no need to stop them. But this is what I shall
not do: First I shall tell Harvey Bigelow that Aunt Susan was once a
millionaire but that she lost all of her money. I shall tell of her
wonderful gifts to Akron,--of her charities, and how well she is beloved,
but that I shall inherit no money from her. Harvey will tell his mother
and she'll spread the news. If people care any the less for us after
hearing it, let them go; but I don't propose to tell what Papa's salary
is, or that you--poor dear--sit until morning sewing for me,--a thing
that I'm not going to allow you to do any longer.
"Then I shall give up attending Madam's. Yes, don't start. Every bill
Papa pays is a nail in his coffin, I know. Tomorrow I shall go to Barnard
and try to pass an examination, and for one quarter what Madam charges I
can get a sound and solid education, and were Papa to die I can leave
with my teacher's diploma knowing something that will be of use to me.
I could help support you and Grandmamma. What could I do were I forced
to support myself after leaving Madam's. Why, an education such as her
girls receive is of no earthly account unless for music or such
accomplishments; but with a degree from Barnard I can earn good money.
I am so glad that I am young and that I shall have a chance. You'll be
proud of me, Mamma,--just wait and see," and she kissed her mother
affectionately.
They went down to breakfast. Archibald Hollister listened to his
daughter's plans. He was proud of her and his face showed it.
"You see, Papa," continued Ethel, "every penny is spent on me. Do you and
Mamma ever go to a theatre? No. Do you ever take a drive? Never,--why?
Because you can't spare the money. Now at least we shall be able to go
to the moving picture shows and take Grandmamma. I bet you'd enjoy it,
wouldn't you, Grandmamma? And, do you know, the best people go, and a
quarter is the highest priced seat."
The girl chatted on until the postman delivered the mail.
"Oh! a letter from Kate. Let's see what news she has written," and she
gave a gasp as she read the first page.
"Poor Mrs. Casey died Saturday from pneumonia. Nora is heartbroken, and
poor Pat Casey acts as though he knew not which way to turn. Nora looks
really refined in black,--almost handsome. She loved Mrs. Casey, who in
spite of her peculiarities was a good wife and mother. Later: Mr. Casey
wishes to take Nora away. He suggested New York, so you may see her,
etc."
Then Ethel described Honora.
"It is strange but I can never like that girl. There's something about
her that's antagonistic to me, and yet when she comes here I must be
polite and ask her to visit me."
"If she's in mourning she'll not expect to meet people," said Mrs.
Hollister quickly, "nor to go to any places of amusement, thank heavens."
"Oh, she's very generous. Probably she'd invite us, Mamma. Well, poor
Nora, she loved her mother. I'm sorry for her."