Girl Scouts at Dandelion Camp
CHAPTER ONE – THE DANDELION PATROL
“Dear me, I never saw so many old dandelions in my life!” exclaimed Juliet Lee, as she tugged mightily at a stubborn root.
“Seems to me there are ten new weeds ready to spring up the moment we pull an old one out,” grumbled Ruth Bentley, standing up to straighten her aching back.
“Forty-six for me! I’ll soon have my hundred roots out for the day!” exulted Elizabeth Lee, Juliet’s twin sister. As she spoke, she shook a clod of loose earth from a large dandelion root, and threw the forty-sixth plant into a basket standing beside her.
“You handled that root exactly as an Indian would a scalp before he ties it to his belt,” laughed Joan Allison, another girl in the group of four so busily at work weeding a vast expanse of lawn.
“Oh, me! I don’t b’lieve we ever will earn enough money this way to pay our expenses in a Girls’ Camp!” sighed Ruth, watching her companions work while she stood and complained. “Doesn’t it seem foolish to waste these lovely summer days in weeding Mrs. Vernon’s lawn, when we might be having glorious sport in a Girl Scouts’ Troop?”
“We’d never be admitted to a Patrol or Troop if we had to confess failure in pulling up little things like dandelions,” ventured Elizabeth, without raising her eyes from her task.
“There you go – preaching, as usual!” retorted Ruth.
“Well, anyway, Mrs. Vernon said it wasn’t so much what we did, or where we did it, as long as we always did the best we could; so I’m trying my best on these unfriendly weeds,” added Elizabeth, generally called Betty, for short.
“Pooh! Mrs. Vernon is an old preacher, too, and you copy her in everything just because you haven’t any mind of your own!” scorned Ruth, her face looking quite ugly for such a pretty girl.
Juliet, known familiarly as Julie, glanced over at her sister to see if Ruth’s rude words hurt. Seeing Betty as happy-faced as ever, she exchanged glances with Joan, who understood Ruth better than the girl understood herself.
To change the trend of the conversation, Joan now asked: “Has any one thought of a name for our club?”
“Yes, I proposed lots of them but Verny seemed to think they were meaningless. I suppose she prefers a Latin or Greek name,” Ruth jeered.
“Oh, not at all! She left it entirely to us to choose a name, but she thought we ought to select one that would fit,” hastily explained Joan.
“I’ve got one – guess what?” exclaimed Betty, sitting back, and hugging her knees as she smiled questioningly at her friends.
The other girls puckered their brows and guessed all sorts of names, some so ridiculous that a merry chorus of laughter pealed across the glen; but finally, Betty held up a hand in warning and shouted:
“Halt! Halt! if you keep on this way, we’ll never finish the weeds.”
“Give up, then!” responded her companions.
“Dandelion Troopy!” exulted Betty.
“Troopy – why that ‘y’ at the end?” queried Joan.
“’Cause we can’t be a regular ‘Troop,’ you know, while we have only four members – Verny said the Scout Manual says so. As most infant ideas end with a ‘y,’ I suggest that we end that way.”
“Oh, Betty! I’m sure you don’t want us to end there when we’ve but just begun,” laughed Julie.
Betty was about to explain her meaning when Ruth interrupted. “Good gracious! Haven’t we had enough of dandelions in this horrid job without reminding us forever of the work by calling ourselves by that name?”
“Well, I was thinking how pretty the name would look if Verny prints it on a board sign and paints yellow dandelions all about the words,” explained Betty, in an apologetic tone.
“It would look nice,” added Joan, picking up a blossom and studying it carefully.
“You know dandelions really are lovely! And they smell sweet, too. But they grow so freely, everywhere, that folks think they are weeds. Now they’d be considered wonderful if they were hard to cultivate,” said Betty, seriously.
“I fail to see beauty in the old things!” scorned Ruth.
“You fail to see beauty in lots of things, Ruth, and that’s where you lose the best part of living,” said a sweet voice from the pathway that skirted the lawn.
“Oh, Verny! When did you get back?” cried three of the girls. Ruth turned away her face and curled her lips rebelliously.
“Oh, some time ago, but I went indoors to see if the banker had his money ready for my scouts,” replied Mrs. Vernon, paying no attention to Ruth’s attitude.
“We were just talking of a name, Verny, and Betsy said she thought the name of ‘Dandelion’ was so appropriate,” explained Joan.
“Betty thought a signboard with the name and a wreath of the flowers painted on it would be awfully sweet,” added Julie, eagerly.
“And I say ‘Toad-stool Camp’ with a lot of fungus plants painted about it would be more appropriate for this Troop’s name!” sneered Ruth, wheeling around to face Mrs. Vernon. “We’re sick of the sight of dandelions.”
Understanding Ruth’s shortcomings so well, the girls paid no attention to this remark, but Mrs. Vernon said: “I came out to see if you were almost through with to-day’s work.”
“Seems as if we were awfully slow this afternoon, Verny, but we’ll dig all the faster now for having you here to boss us,” said Julie.
“It’s all because I stopped them to talk about a name,” admitted Betty.
“Well, we were glad of the recess,” laughed Joan.
“Come, come, then – let’s make up for lost time!” called Julie, falling to with a zeal never before demonstrated by her.
The other girls turned and also began digging furiously, in order to complete the number of roots they were supposed to sell at one time. Not a word was spoken for a few moments, but Ruth groaned about her backache, and sat up every few seconds to look at her dirt-smeared fingernails. Mrs. Vernon had to hide a smile and when she could control her voice, said:
“I’ll be going back to Vernon’s Bank, girls, but as soon as you are ready to cash in for the roots, go to the side porch. Then wash up in the lavatory and meet me on the front verandah, where we’ll have something cool to drink for such warm laborers.”
“Um-m! I know what! You always do treat us the best!” cried Joan.
“With such an incentive before us, I shouldn’t wonder but we’ll be there before you are ready,” added Julie, smacking her lips.
Mrs. Vernon laughed, then walked back to the house, and the girls dug and dug, without wasting any more time to grumble or talk. Even Ruth forgot her annoyances in the anticipation of having something good to eat and a cooling drink the moment she was through with her hundred weeds.
As usual, Betty completed her task before any of her companions, and Ruth said querulously: “I don’t see how you ever do it! Here I’ve worked as hard as any one but I only have sixty roots.”
“I’ll help you finish up so’s we can get to the house,” Betty offered generously. And Ruth accepted her help without thinking to thank her.
“I know why Ruth always falls behind,” commented Joan. “Betty may be a ‘prude’ and a ‘preacher’ in Ruth’s eyes, but she sure does persist in anything. I haven’t heard her complain of, or shirk, a single thing since we began this Scout plan. Ruth sits and worries over everything before it happens, so she really makes her work hard from the moment she ever starts it.”
“That’s good logic, Joan,” returned Julie. “Besides all that, I have watched Betty work, and she seems to like it! Haven’t you ever noticed how fast and well you can do anything that you love to do?”
“You don’t suppose I love to root out dandelions, do you?” demanded Betty, laughingly.
“Not