Girls of the Morning-Glory Camp Fire

“Why did she choose ‘Morning-Glory’ as her tribe name?” asked Mŭnkwŏn the Rainbow of Sesooā the Flame, as Rainbow and Flame, with girlish arms entwining, stood beneath the shelt...

The pianist had been helped from her cane perch by a grown-up girl, a young school-teacher who led the playground dances and who had run a close race with Sesooā to the rescue;...

“You should say, rather, that she dances like a morning-glory in the breeze!” Sesooā looked laughingly up into the face of the massive peacemaker who had separated the two littl...

On Wigwam Hill the pine-tree—the noble standing pine, emblem of “simplicity and strength,” symbol of membership in the Camp Fire Sisterhood—bent its head, listening with every n...

“Jessica! Ho! Jessica-a. Olive is looking for you-u, Jessica. She’s gone into the library now.” Sybil Deering’s high, laughing voice, rilling and trilling on terminal vowels lik...

The splashing cries which came from the feathered edges of the bathing-pool rushed toward her like a great water-wave tipped with foreign foam, about which there was nothing art...

Other things were well enough in their way, such as a daily mess that had as many flavors in it as there were airs in a musical medley or scents in a _pot-pourri_. A succulent c...

So full of frolic was that voice chanting amid the foam, as the white-flowering waves broke about a girl-swimmer, that it would be hard for an onlooker to believe that those tid...

“Hullo! Maidens, have all the braves gone hunting?” Thus boomed Menokigábo, known before he entered upon this Sugarloaf life of glamor at the beck of a dozen Camp Fire Girls as...

“It’s a Boy!” Both girls burst forth simultaneously, explosively, with the discovery. The explosion was followed by an inarticulate rumble made up of mirth, that was one part tr...

Supper was over, a wonderful outdoor banquet, for which the high tide furnished the orchestra, the white sands the table linen, with the last rays of the dying sun showering bou...

Sesooā heard a sob. A frank sob that published the trouble of some girl’s heart to the dunes and to the sea! And Sally did not know what to do about it.

A tongue of flame licked the dripping blade of one of them, mocking the water in which it was dipped, where Sesooā had gaudily painted her Camp Fire symbol, so characteristic of...

All of a sudden the girl so wildly cradled amid the breakers, with her wet, white face staring up from the boat’s bottom at the rain-washed, frowning sky, through sheets of spra...

“That was a girl’s cry, Stack!” Kenjo Red—Kenjo the youthful signal-man of the blazing broom performance—lifted his red head that flamed like a beacon amid the wet drabness of t...

“Yes, and with a burning mountain an’ a horn thrown in!” Kenjo’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth with excitement as he replied to the shrieked comment from Miles.

But no Camp Fire Girl or Boy Scout, either, who assembled at the invitation of the Twin-Light Tribe at an hotel upon the mainland of the Massachusetts North Shore, indulged in a...

It was a voice which thrilled and trembled just as it had done over six months before when, by the lakeside Council Fire, Morning-Glory had given her girlish pledge to tend, eve...