THE TRIP TO WASHINGTON
Miss Phillips had feared that more than eight girls would qualify as
first-class Scouts, and that, therefore, some would be disappointed at
not being included in the Washington trip; but she found that, as the
weeks went by, fewer girls than she had anticipated became eligible.
Under the rigid standards of the new handbook it was no easy matter to
become a first-class Scout. It was true that four girls had successfully
passed the signalling, but of these four, only Ruth had made an
acceptable map. For this reason it came about, just as she desired, that
she was the first Scout of Pansy troop to receive that honor.
When she was presented with the badge at the following Scout meeting,
she made no pretense at modesty. With a self-satisfied air, she strutted
forward in answer to her Captain's summons. "_The_ first-class Scout of
Pansy troop!" her manner announced, as plainly as if she had uttered the
very words.
"And I'll be the first Golden Eaglet!" she resolved, as she returned
after the presentation. For it was characteristic of Ruth Henry that she
always kept a goal in view.
Early in February, Marjorie, Edith, and Ethel fulfilled the requirements
and received their badges, outwardly more humbly, though secretly they
were as proud as Ruth. Their finer sensibilities, however, kept them
from openly gloating.
Two more weeks went by, and all the while Miss Phillips grew
increasingly anxious. The money was provided for eight; the opportunity
was precious! Would she be obliged to take only four girls because all
the other twenty Scouts, members of her own troop, were too lazy or too
stupid to pass the test? The idea was distasteful; at every meeting she
urged them on to increased activity.
A week later, she was partially rewarded, for Frances Wright and Lily
Andrews became first-class Scouts. Now Marjorie was happy; she could not
imagine a trip of this sort without her beloved room-mate. Lily,
however, was a plodder, and while she was never among the foremost
ranks, it was seldom that she was left out altogether.
"And now if we could only get Doris!" remarked Marjorie, when she and
Lily were privately celebrating the latter's victory. "The party
wouldn't be complete without her."
"She made a marvelous map at camp," commented Lily. "I wonder what is
keeping her back?"
"Signaling, I think. I say, Lil, couldn't we just make her practice till
she passes? We have two weeks yet!"
"Great idea, Marj!" agreed her room-mate; and the two girls hurried off
that very minute to put the plan into action.
Doris accepted the help gratefully, and practiced the letters steadily
until her ability had so materially improved that she felt qualified to
take the test. To the infinite satisfaction of all concerned, she
passed--two days before the girls were scheduled to leave. And, at the
same time, Helen Stewart fulfilled the requirements and brought the
party to the desired number of nine.
The girls preferred not to wear their Scout uniforms on the train, but
carried them along in case they might need them for some official
occasion. Miss Phillips said that she rather hoped there might be a
Scout rally while they were there, thus affording them a chance to meet
other Girl Scouts.
"How do you want to room?" she asked, as they were waiting in the
station. "A letter from the hotel says that there are three bedrooms and
a bath together on one side of the hall, and two--one is a single room
for me--on the other. Now who is rooming with whom?"
"Marj and I are together!" cried Lily, proudly.
"Frances and I," announced Ethel Todd.
"Doris and I," said Ruth.
"So Edith and Helen must be," laughed Miss Phillips. "Well, that works
out very well. Now she wants to come across the hall with me, and who
wants to stay on the other side?"
"Oh, let Lil and me be with you!" exclaimed Marjorie, eagerly; and as
she was the first to speak for the honor, none of the others protested.
With the exception of Edith and Miss Phillips, none of the party had
ever visited Washington before, and the trip from the start was filled
with interest. The girls watched everything out of the window, and
laughed and chatted all the way. Since it was vacation, and a party,
Miss Phillips permitted candy, and before they had gone very far Lily
produced a beautiful box which her father had sent to her that very day.
They reached the hotel in time for dinner Thursday evening. The rooms,
with their soft carpets, their luxurious chairs, pretty electric lights
and comfortable beds were a novelty to most of the Scouts.
Sitting at the hotel table, listening to the music while they ate, and
ordering from the menu cards, proved a delightful experience. The girls
could scarcely eat, so interested were they in looking around the big
dining-room, watching the people, and now and then catching sight of
themselves in the many mirrors about the walls; and all the while
conscious of the delicate odor of roses and the swinging rhythm of the
music.
"I think it would be fun enough to stay in a hotel for three days,"
remarked Ethel, sipping her consommé, "without doing another single
thing!"
"But our friend and benefactor wouldn't be satisfied with that,"
remarked Miss Phillips. "We are to see and learn things as well."
"Oh, please tell us who it is!" cried Ruth, almost swallowing her olive
in her haste to satisfy her curiosity.
"I dare not! I promised!"
"My, how you do love mysteries, Captain!" observed Ethel.
"Is it a man?" pursued Ruth.
Miss Phillips hesitated. "Yes, it is. I'll tell you that much. And I'll
tell you something more. He has promised to equip the girls for a canoe
trip this summer, if they win the Pioneer badge!"
"A canoe trip!" repeated Marjorie. "Oh, how wonderful!"
"It will be a nice change from regular camping," said Miss Phillips.
"But the pioneer test is a difficult one."
The girls discussed it for a while, and, after supper was over, went up
to their rooms. They were too tired even to go to the movies, but Miss
Phillips had brought cards, and they played a rubber of bridge before
seeking their beds.
They were up early the next morning to find the dining-room almost
empty. Again they had the fun of ordering "the things we don't get at
Miss Allen's," as they themselves put it, and the meal passed
pleasantly.
Most of the day was spent in sight-seeing. They visited the White House,
and the Capitol; stopped at the Smithsonian Institute and laughed over
the dresses the Presidents' wives had worn; took the elevator to the top
of Washington Monument; and, after luncheon, rode to Mt. Vernon. It
meant a great deal to them to see all the places they had read so much
about.
They came back to the hotel tired; but a bath, fifteen minutes' rest,
and fresh clothing, revived them; and at dinner they were as gay as
usual. In the evening they went to the theater.
On Saturday they took a sight-seeing bus about the city and ended up at
the Girl Scout Headquarters.
All of the girls were tremendously excited as they walked into the
office; it was the first time they had ever met other officers, or
visited any Scout office. Fortunately, Miss Phillips had insisted this
time that they all wear their Scout uniforms, and in these they felt
more at ease.
Instead of finding only one or two officials, the place was crowded with
them. The girls stepped back shyly, while Miss Phillips made the
advances.
"We are Girl Scouts from Miss Allen's Boarding School--in Pennsylvania,"
she explained; "we're seeing Washington, and, of course, we couldn't
miss the Girl Scout Headquarters."
The hostesses were most cordial, showing the girls everything, and then
inviting them to a big rally that afternoon.
"That reminds me," remarked one of the officers, who was evidently a
representative from National Headquarters in New York City, "I have a
list of Girl Scouts here, from all parts of the country, who want to
correspond with other Girl Scouts. Would you girls, any of you, like to
take some names?"
Marjorie was the first to accept the suggestion. "Oh, I would!" she
cried. "That would be lots of fun!"
The officer handed the list to her, and the girls all crowded about to
read the names, hoping that perhaps they might come across one that they
knew. But, recognizing none, they selected at random, while Marjorie
placed checks here and there in the list.
While she was still thus occupied, her eye fell suddenly upon a name
which seemed familiar. It aroused a vague sort of expectation within
her, as of some old association. Where had she heard it before: "Jennie
Perkins," Trenton, N. J.?
She wrinkled her brows for a moment, lost in thought. But her
uncertainty lasted only a second; in a flash, the significance of it
dawned upon her. That was the assumed name under which Frieda Hammer
must have worked at that Fifth Avenue tea-room! Could this
girl--evidently a Scout, and living in Trenton--possibly be Frieda?
Marjorie's heart leaped for joy, but she resolutely put down her hopes.
The whole thing was most improbable. The girl might easily return to
Trenton in quest of work, but Marjorie knew that her former dislike of
their troop, particularly of Ruth Henry, would prejudice her against
ever becoming a Girl Scout. And Frieda Hammer had never showed any signs
of sociability; she was the last girl in the world to desire to make new
friends by writing to unknown correspondents.
Still, Marjorie decided, she might as well select this name as any, for
all were unknown to her. She had nothing whatever to lose, and there was
one chance in a thousand that "Jennie Perkins" might be Frieda. Hastily
making a check beside the name, she returned the list to the officer.
Although Miss Phillips had intended to take the girls home after
luncheon, she changed her mind at their entreaties, and allowed them to
remain for the rally.
It was a magnificent sight to behold hundreds of Girl Scouts, all
dressed in uniform, gather together in the great hall, and to hear them
join, as in one voice, in the pledge to the flag and the oath of the
organization. More than one of the members of Pansy troop felt a
tightening sensation at their throats when the great throng of girls
sang the "Star Spangled Banner." The meeting brought to them an
impression that they would never forget, and prepared them in one way to
realize what it would mean to be part of a great organized camp.
They left the hall as soon as the address was over, in order that they
might make an early train home; for, instead of returning to Miss
Allen's school, each girl was to go to her own home, and Miss Phillips
was anxious that they all reach their destinations before dark.
The rally had been the most fitting conclusion that Miss Phillips could
have conceived. She realized this when she saw how deeply it had
impressed the girls.
"A glorious end of a glorious trip!" said Ethel enthusiastically, as
they got into the train.
And the shining eyes of the others confirmed their approval of her
opinion.