[Illustration: She held a golden locket on a chain.
“Brownie Scouts at Snow Valley” (_See page 188_)]
The Brownie Scouts at Snow Valley
by
Mildred A. Wirt
Illustrated
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
Publishers New York
COPYRIGHT, 1949, BY
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY
_All Rights Reserved_
THE BROWNIE SCOUTS AT SNOW VALLEY
Printed in the United States of America
_To_
MRS. ELEANOR T. GIBSON
_Executive Director of the Toledo Girl Scouts
in appreciation of her helpfulness and cooperation._
Contents
1 A Runaway Sled 1
2 In Search of Veve 19
3 Safety Rules and Kitten Tails 27
4 Miss Gordon’s Surprise 41
5 A Substitute Brownie 61
6 Snowland 75
7 Santa Claus Jeffert 91
8 Three Little Stones 107
9 Tale of the Brownies 117
10 A Stolen Evergreen 137
11 Into the Storm 151
12 A Pair of Mittens 163
13 Lost in the Blizzard 173
14 Snowbound 181
15 Grandmother Gordon’s Locket 189
CHAPTER 1
A Runaway Sled
Six little Brownie Scouts, busily pasting scrapbooks in Connie
Williams’ living room, perked up their ears to listen.
“Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!”
Again came that firm, quick tapping on the window pane.
Through the cold, frosted glass, a little girl in scarlet snowsuit
peered in at the Brownies, seated cross-legged in a semi-circle on the
rug.
Her freckled pug nose made a tiny smudge as she pressed it hard against
the pane, trying to see what went on in the room.
“Why, it’s Veve McGuire!” said Connie, scrambling to her feet.
“Let’s not pay any attention to her.” This advice came from Jane
Tuttle, another member of the Rosedale Brownie Troop. With a toss of
her long, yellow pigtails, she went on snipping papers. “Veve’s just
trying to act silly because she isn’t a Brownie.”
Veve McGuire lived next door to Connie. That fall when Miss Jean
Gordon, the fourth grade teacher at Rosedale School, had organized the
Brownies, the little girl had been invited to join.
But Veve had tossed her dark curls and said she didn’t think she wanted
to be a Brownie.
“Who wants to belong to any old troop?” she had scoffed. “What do
Brownies do anyway, except have meetings?”
“Brownies have loads of fun,” the other girls had told her. “They go to
camp, they help at home, they plan entertainments--”
Veve hadn’t listened. Even when the six girls bought their new uniforms
of pinchecked brown gingham, each with a cocky felt beanie cap, she had
pretended she wasn’t a bit interested. But now that the Brownies were
so busy with their work and plans, she really missed her playmates.
Connie, who very much wanted Veve to be a Brownie Scout, knew all this.
So while the other girls paid no heed to Veve, she went to the window.
“Come on out and play!” Veve shouted. “I’m going to make a big snowman.
I’ll let you all help me!”
Now it had snowed nearly all day, the first real storm of December.
Little feathery drifts had blown against the Williams’ white shingle
house.
During the last hour, the wind had died. Water dripped steadily from
the roof, for the weather had turned warmer. The snow, though melting
fast, was just soft enough to roll.
“Come on out!” Veve shouted again, waving a red mitten.
Connie shook her head. She had to turn her back on Veve’s disappointed
face, for just then Miss Gordon, the troop leader, came into the living
room from the kitchen.
“Well, girls,” she said, “shall we pick up our scrap papers and call it
an afternoon? I think we’ve made wonderful progress.”
The six Brownies, Connie, Jane, Rosemary Fritche, Eileen Webber,
Belinda Matthews and “Sunny” Davidson, had been pasting scrapbooks for
patients at Rosedale Hospital. Three of the books already were finished.
Forgetting about Veve, the girls cleaned up the scraps from the rug.
When the room was tidy, they sang their Brownie song:
“_We’re the Brownies, here’s our aim: Lend a hand and play the game!_”
Then as the girls started to leave, they told Connie how very much they
had enjoyed themselves at her home.
“The chocolate and cookies were awfully good,” said Jane, wriggling
into her heavy snowsuit. “Will you all meet at my house next week?”
Before anyone could answer, Miss Gordon spoke.
“Oh, girls,” she said, “I nearly forgot! Let’s not plan our next
meeting just yet.”
“Not plan another meeting?” Connie echoed, a puzzled look in her deep
blue eyes.
“I may have a surprise for you,” Miss Gordon hinted mysteriously. “No,
don’t ask me about it just yet. I can’t tell you any more now.”
She broke off and laughed in her delightful way, which made the
Brownies more curious than ever. The hall buzzed with excited talk as
the girls put on their galoshes and woolen mittens. What could Miss
Gordon’s “surprise” be?
“Give us a tiny hint,” they pleaded.
“Can’t,” laughed their leader. “Not until after I’ve talked to your
parents. You may hear all about it at our next meeting.”
“And when will that be?” Jane inquired anxiously, for she had asked to
be the next hostess.
“I’ll telephone you in plenty of time,” Miss Gordon promised.
Out in the Williams’ front yard, Veve had started to roll a huge
snowball. She hadn’t known it was the regular time for the Brownie
meeting to break up, and thought the girls meant to play with her.
“Come and help me push!” she shouted. “I want to make this snowball as
big as a mountain!”
Belinda Matthews and Rosemary Fritche only smiled at her as they ambled
down the walk arm-in-arm. Next, Eileen Webber and Jane Tuttle came out
of the house, and they barely noticed Veve or her snowball.
Connie, who stood in the doorway saying goodbye to Sunny and Miss
Gordon, saw that Veve was very disappointed. The little girl looked as
if she might cry. Miss Gordon noticed it too.
“What wonderful snow for rolling!” the Brownie Scout leader remarked.
“Let’s help Veve!” proposed Connie. Usually known as “sober face,” she
was now very gay as she dived into the cloak closet for her snowsuit
and galoshes. “Can you stay awhile and play, Sunny?”
“I’ll call my mother,” Sunny offered.
Reached by telephone, Mrs. Davidson said that her daughter might remain
until five o’clock. Sunny struggled into her zippered white woolen
snowsuit and the two girls went outdoors together.
Veve tried not to show how glad she was to see them. “Let’s push this
snowball down the driveway,” she urged.
The big ball went “crunch, crunch,” as the three girls rolled it over
and over. From the driveway it picked up bits of gravel and rock.
“Isn’t it large enough now for a snowman?” asked Sunny as she became
breathless from pushing.
Veve walked around the huge ball to see how large it had grown.
“Yes, it will do,” she decided. “This ball is for the snowman’s feet.
We will make the next one larger. That will be for his stomach.”
The three girls stood the snowball on its flat end in the front yard.
Then they started another which grew and grew as it rolled over the
ground.
“Veve,” Connie asked suddenly, “why don’t you join our Brownie troop?”
In the act of lifting up a hard-packed snowball, Veve nearly let it
tumble through her mittens.
“Oh, Brownies!” she teased. “They stay all afternoon in the house and
make scrapbooks! I’d rather play outdoors!”
“Brownies don’t stay inside all the time!” Sunny said hotly. “You have
it all wrong. Our troop is wonderful!”
Veve tried to change the subject. “Our snowman needs a face. I’ll get
some coal for his eyes and nose.”
On the driveway of the McGuire home next door stood a red coal delivery
truck. A strong looking man with a very dirty face was shoveling coal
into the basement.
“Hello, mister,” said Veve, who never was afraid of strangers. “May I
have some little pieces of coal for my snowman?”
“Help yourself, Sister,” replied the man. He kept right on unloading
the coal.
“My name isn’t Sister,” said Veve politely. “It is Veve McGuire. This
is our coal too.”
The little girl picked up several small pieces which had tumbled from
the rear of the truck. However, they were not the size she needed. Veve
saw better pieces over by the chute, but was afraid to try to get them.
The coalman was shoveling so fast she knew she might be struck.
“Please, can’t you wait a minute?” she asked.
“All right,” agreed the coalman, resting on his shovel. “Pick up what
you want.”
Veve darted in and gathered up several pieces. As soon as she had
jumped out of the way, the coalman went on with his work again.
Veve stood watching him a moment.
“My, but you are a strong man,” she said admiringly. “Do you know what
I would do if I had large muscles like yours?”
“No,” replied the man. “I suppose you would be a coalwoman.”
Veve laughed because she knew the man was teasing her. “I wouldn’t like
to get as dirty as you are,” she said.
“I don’t like coal dust either,” returned the man, “but it can’t be
helped. Well, what would you do?”
“If I were strong, I would make the largest snowman in the whole world!”
The coalman laughed as he went on with his shoveling.
“I am too busy to make snowmen,” he said. “I have a wife and four
children to feed and clothe.”
Veve very much would have liked to talk longer with the coalman, but
she knew the girls were waiting for her.
So, taking the pieces of coal, she ran back to the Williams’ yard.
“Why, Veve, you’re all covered with dirt!” exclaimed Connie, noticing a
streak on the little girl’s face.
“I don’t care,” laughed Veve. “You should see the coalman. He’s a lot
worse than I am!”
The girls used the pieces of coal to mark the snowman’s eyes, nose and
mouth. Connie made a long row of black buttons down the front of the
fat figure.
“That’s his coat,” she declared. “Now he’s finished!”
“Not yet,” insisted Veve. “He should have a hat and a pipe. Then he’ll
look like a real man.”
“Where can we get them?” asked Sunny, stepping back to admire the
snowman.
Connie knew that her father had a tall black silk hat which he never
used, and she remembered a green plastic bubble pipe in the kitchen
drawer.
“I’ll ask mother if we may use them,” she offered, and ran into the
house.
Mrs. Williams gave her the bubble pipe, but hesitated when Connie asked
if she might also have the black silk hat.
“Your father hasn’t used that hat in years, so I suppose he won’t
mind,” she said, after thinking the matter over for a moment. “You’ll
find it in the attic.”
Connie climbed the stairs to the cobwebby room under the roof. The
place was cluttered with trunks, boxes, and old pieces of furniture.
Everything was very dusty.
Opening one trunk after another, Connie finally found the tall black
silk hat which had been wrapped in tissue paper. With the bubble pipe,
she carried it to the yard.
“Just what we need!” cried Veve in delight.
She thrust the hat jauntily on the snowman’s head and the pipestem deep
into his mouth. The girls laughed aloud, for the figure now looked very
funny.
“Doesn’t he look grand!” exclaimed Connie. “Almost like Daddy!”
Unable to think of another way to improve the snowman, the girls sat
down on the porch steps. Connie and Sunny began to talk about the
Brownie meeting and to speculate on Miss Gordon’s promised “surprise.”
Again Veve deliberately changed the subject.
“It’s getting warmer,” she said. “Our snowman won’t last very long, I’m
afraid.”
“He’s wilting already,” agreed Sunny. “Oh, don’t you wish the snow
would never melt?”
“It always goes away real fast here,” sighed Connie. “We never have
half enough ice skating or coasting.”
“Say, why don’t we go coasting right now?” Veve proposed eagerly.
“Klingman’s Hill!”
“All right, let’s ask our mothers,” Connie agreed, falling in with the
plan.
“It’s nearly five o’clock,” Sunny said regretfully. “I’ll have to run
along. Remember, Connie, until our next Brownie meeting--DYB.”
She winked at Connie as she spoke the mysterious letters.
“What does DYB mean?” Veve demanded.
“Oh, it’s a Brownie secret,” laughed Sunny as she started off down the
street. “Our troop has lots and lots of them!”
Now Klingman’s Hill was three blocks from the Williams’ home. The
road had been roped off to keep automobiles from using it. Usually a
policeman was on hand to see that the children did not get hurt.
After Connie obtained permission from her mother, the two girls started
for the hill.
“Tell me what DYB means,” Veve coaxed.
“Can’t, Veve. It’s a Brownie secret, and Brownies never tell. Now if
you were a member--”
“But I’m not,” said Veve a trifle crossly.
By this time the girls were quite close to Klingman’s Hill. They could
see that the coasting place was nearly deserted. Much of the snow had
melted, leaving ugly bare spots on the hill. Only a few boys and girls
stood around looking very gloomy.
“Oh, Veve, no one is coasting!” cried Connie in disappointment. “We
won’t be able to slide after all.”
“The snow always melts before we have a chance to coast,” grumbled
Veve. “I’m getting sick of it.”
“So am I, Veve. But Miss Gordon says Brownies must learn to take
disappointments.”
Veve frowned, for she disliked the advice. “All I ask is a little cold
winter weather,” she mumbled.
Dragging their sleds, the two girls walked to the brow of the hill.
Everywhere they could see patches of bare earth on the slope. Water
trickled in the roadside ditches.
“Can’t coast here,” said a boy who stood near. “But there’s snow left
on Kelly’s Hill. Most of the kids have gone there. That’s where I’m
heading.” He started away with his sled.
Veve seized Connie’s hand. “Come on,” she urged. “Let’s go too.”
“But Kelly’s Hill isn’t roped off. Only the older boys coast there.”
“Who’s afraid?” scoffed Veve. “I want to use my sled at least once this
winter.”
“Do you think the hill is safe?” Connie was troubled. While her mother
had not forbidden her to go to the other coasting area, she wondered if
she should. A Brownie, Miss Gordon had said, always was trustworthy
and responsible.
“We can be careful,” Veve said. She started away.
“Wait!” called Connie.
Veve was a year younger than she, and inclined to act hastily. She
could not let her friend go alone.
Now Kelly’s Hill was several blocks farther on at the south edge of
Rosedale. The slope was very steep, with railroad tracks crossing it
near the bottom.
A dirt road wound over the hill too. Automobiles passed now and then,
so for that reason the coasting place was considered unsafe.
However, when Connie and Veve reached the steep hill they found plenty
of snow. The run looked very fast. Many boys and a few girls were
coasting.
Connie, who was worried because of the railroad tracks, said quietly:
“Veve, I don’t think we should coast here.”
“So Brownies are afraid!” jeered her friend. “Well, I’m not.”
All the same, she did not start down the hill right away. Instead, she
removed her mittens and blew breath on her fingers.
“It’s cold here,” she said, stamping one foot and then another.
Connie laughed, for the air was not in the least chilly. She knew Veve
was afraid of the hill. But she did not say so, for she hoped her
friend would decide not to coast.
Just then, a group of older boys came along with their sleds. One of
them knew Veve and tried to tease her.
“This hill isn’t for girls! Too steep!”
The remark annoyed Veve. Forgetting to be afraid, she climbed on her
sled and took the rope in her hands.
Before she was ready to start, the older boy gave her a hard push. Down
the hill shot the sled, moving faster and faster.
Wind whizzed in Veve’s face. She couldn’t see. The sled went so fast it
was hard to steer.
“Oh! Oh!” she squealed.
Another sled loomed up. Veve pushed hard on the steering lever with her
foot. The sled skidded sharply to the right and she couldn’t straighten
it out. The next moment she was lying in a ditch with the sled on top
of her.
Slowly she picked herself up and brushed wet snow from her suit. Connie
ran down the hill to ask anxiously:
“Are you hurt, Veve?”
“Of course not! But look at my clothes. They’re all wet. I don’t like
this hill.”
“Let’s go home.”
“All right,” Veve agreed. “It’s not as much fun here as I thought it
would be.”
As the girls trudged slowly up the slope, a car overtook them. Several
of the older boys ran after it, hooking the ropes of their sleds over
the rear bumpers. They rode to the top of the hill and then jumped off.
“Say, that’s an easy way to get up without walking,” laughed Veve.
“I shouldn’t try it,” cautioned Connie. “Those boys might get hurt.”
She knew they were being most unwise to risk hooking their sleds onto
the car bumpers. If the automobile should speed up, they easily might
be carried away.
Midway up the hill, Veve suddenly halted.
“See what’s coming!” she shouted. “A runaway sled!”
“Jeepers!” Connie exclaimed. “It looks like mine!” Before starting down
the hill she had tied her sled to a tree. Now she saw that someone had
untied it for a joke.
The two girls tried to stop the sled, but were not quick enough. It
glided past them into a ditch far down the hill. Of course they had to
go after it.
“What a mean trick!” exclaimed Veve. “I’m ready to go home! Only I hate
to climb all the way up this old mountain.”
Nearby stood a parked automobile. The driver sat behind the steering
wheel with the engine running. However, he appeared to be waiting for
someone and did not act as if he intended to start up the hill.
“Connie, I’ll show you how the boys hook onto the car bumpers,” Veve
offered.
Before her friend could stop her, she darted to the parked car. The
driver did not see her, for he was gazing in another direction.
“Just slip the rope over the bumper like this,” explained Veve. “It’s
easy, Connie.”
Now Veve had no intention of riding up the hill. She only liked to
think she could do anything the older boys did. Never once did it occur
to her that the automobile might start suddenly forward.
Therefore, she was startled when, without warning, the motor speeded
up. Smoke poured from the exhaust pipe at the rear. The car began to
move slowly ahead.
“Oh, he’s driving off with your sled!” Connie cried in alarm.
“Hey, wait!” shouted Veve, running after the car.
The driver did not hear.
Connie and Veve soon caught up, for the car climbed the hill slowly.
But instead of unhooking the rope, Veve threw herself flat on the sled.
“Jump on!” she invited Connie.
Connie raced alongside, urging Veve to unhook the sled.
“Not yet,” the other girl laughed. “I’m riding to the top.”
The car began to move faster, although it was still climbing. Connie
fell behind. She was very worried for her friend.
“Get off now, Veve!” she shouted.
The car reached the hilltop and went so fast Veve could not unfasten
the sled rope.
Connie saw that her playmate might be carried away by the automobile.
In a moment it would start downhill, and then Veve never could jump off
without being hurt.
“Roll off!” she urged. “Roll off, quick!”
Veve did not want to lose her sled. She kept clinging to it, hoping the
car would slow down. Instead, it picked up speed.
“Stop!” she shouted to the driver. “Stop the car!”
The man could not hear because the chains on the wheels were making a
loud clanking noise.
“Help! Help!” screamed Veve, now thoroughly frightened.
The car whirled around a corner, with the girl clinging desperately to
her sled.