The Aloha Kanaka;
4 o °v^-V VT^*>^ 'V^V v:"-°\^ % .V <S\ *^o* 0 „<?- 4°* W ^ /n$m. \/ .-afe-. <^ '•>• '^ A <?> •^ ^ ^ $> ^ .at <»\ G* ^o *W ^<K ,G*" ^ "'TV*4 A ^ -«..* ,G* "o. "'TV*5 A ^> -^ -5- Gv '- o .<:-'■' *bV ^o« < kt * <%v/m3& "■ * <K 4 o e5 ^ 0 • iC'^Vl*.,.'' O tV ^o* <5^. " o » o J <t V "^o* Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/alohakanakaOOguli The Aloha Kanaka A Story of Life at a Girls' Camp As Told By The Camp Members Edited by Edward L. Gulick, Hanover, N. H. Published by Harry Haywood, Jr., New Brunswick, N. J. 1915 6* ^ Copyright, 1915 By Harry Haywood, Jr. New Brunswick, N. J. SEP 14 1915 The Schilling Press, Inc. New York City >GI.A411515 FOREWORD A BRIGHT flame of affection, enthusiasm and loyalty to Camp Aloha burns in the hearts of nearly seven hundred Alohaites. They come flocking to Aloha in increasing numbers summer after summer, from the neighbor- hoods of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, and from a hundred other places east, west, north, and south. They are now to be found in Radcliffe, Wellesley, Smith, Vassar, Mt. Holyoke, Bryn Mawr, Oberlin, Chicago, Hollins, and Roanoke; and everywhere they are living a broad and generous life, at least in part because of the equipment of health and stimulus received at Aloha. The older readers of these pages will be inclined to discount some of the en- thusiasm expressed, on the score of youthful exaggeration. But for ten years I have seen this enthusiasm in action. I have heard it in song and cheer. I have seen this affection expressed with increasing warmth and depth to her, whom the girls delight to call their Summer-Mother. Making all due allowance for youthful exaggeration and effervescing ebullience, one cannot fail to recognize the genuine- ness of the sentiment expressed. The articles by Miss Fessenden and by Miss Anna Coale, which first appeared in The Outlook, and that by Miss Ives are included here in order to give a wider reading to those excellent productions, and to add interest to the book in the eyes of the general reader. This little volume will, besides, serve a double purpose. It will recall to "old girls" a flood of happy memories, and show them the faces of many a companion in frolic and excursion. By the aid of the keys, they will be able to identify and recall half-forgotten faces and names, and the episodes of camp life associated with them. But besides this most important function of the book, we hope that it will give to parents and friends, who have never seen the life at Aloha, a fairly dis- tinct impression of the charms and attractions of the camps, their altruism, their animation, their good cheer, their democracy, their industry and their unity. An emphatic word of appreciation is due to Mr. Harry Haywood for his indefatigable labors generously given from his otherwise busy hours. Also to Miss Alice Harris, to whose fanciful pencil we owe the line draw- ings of the winged Kanaka that frisks and frolics through the pages of this volume. E. L. G. THE KANAKA Dedicated to the Aloha Girl DEAR to us is the Aloha Girl whether she comes from her home a "flapper" as the English would call her, with hair down and skirts up, or as a modish young lady more accustomed to city streets than to mountain trails, better acquainted with books than with brooks, with balls than with ball. Her pretty clothes, her careful manners, her delicate fears, proclaim her the product of care- ful training and ample opportunity in a sheltered environment. Dear to us is the Aloha Girl after she has had for some seasons the Aloha experience. Her easy mastery of horse and canoe, her powers of endurance, her initiative, her eager enthusiasms and unaffected joy, her responsiveness to appeal, her readiness to help, to mix, to sing, all are proofs that she has received and is ready to give much : her attainments are "sweet records, promises as sweet." Dear to us is the Aloha Girl as we see her in later life, always preparing for wider and richer service, an active element among our modern transitional forces ; quivering in responsiveness to the new, conserving the sanctities of the old ; moved by the tide in the affairs of men, but holding her steadfast course toward the goal, — a large, generous, human life, receiving and contributing the best. Here's to the Aloha Girl that is to be. Mr. and Mrs. Gulick. Wk i iW |5f lEvV^ ' &- ~A A ■ -t \^ \ 1 ife&~- m AROCXD THE CAMPFIRE Life in a Girls' Camp By Anna Worthington Coa/e of the Aloha Camp Reprinted by permission from The Outlook of July 25, 1914. TEN years ago girls' camps were rare. Five years ago you heard of a few of them in Maine and New Hampshire. Nowadays we hear of a hundred, and they are located in all parts of the country — in the Adirondacks and the White Mountains, at the seashore, in Arizona and other parts of the Far West. The girl camper may be twelve or twenty. She usually comes from a home of luxury and hugely enjoys the novelty of sleeping in tents, the unhampered oppor- tunities for learning to swim, to row, to paddle — in short, to live close to friendly Mother Nature — through eight or nine happy weeks of the camp season. And, best of all, she learns the value of girl friendships. A camp girl who is now in college writes : "More important than experience with wind and wood is the intimate association with people which camp affords. I have known college girls who wasted most of their freshman year in learning the simple principle of com- munity life — toleration, co-operation, and normal friendliness — which the camp girl has already been taught." Another girl said that at home she had known only one girl well. Camp taught her to understand other girls. Every summer one whole camp has an opportunity to vote for just one girl. It is not the most popular girl — though she is sure to be that ; nor the most athletic ; nor yet the best-looking. Not any of these. The highest honor the camp has to bestow is given for Camp Spirit — and it goes to the girl who has proved to be the most thoughtful, generous, and kind — in short, the best friend. The girls' camp has proved that there can be just as great esprit de corps among girls as among boys. Not only that, but among girls of varying ages and LIFE IN A GIRLS' CAMP MORNING ABLUTION circumstances. When one camp is "out together," there is always an older young woman who seems to be the leader. It is hard to decide whether she is a camp girl or not. There is a big-sister air about her, and yet an air of frank comrade- ship. She is a councilor — a college girl, full of life and spirit. She is the close friend and adviser of the younger girls. Then there is the honor girl, who has been chosen by a committee of councilors because of her "camp spirit" of thought- fulness, friendliness, and leadership. She can swim and row, and is allowed to go in a canoe without a councilor, and sometimes to take other girls. There are also in this company the timid little mother's darling and the prim little city girl. Yet in spite of these varying types, so strong is the spirit of friendship that there is rarely a note of discord or maladjustment. Camp routine is much the same in all camps. The bugle call which awakens the girls is followed ten minutes later by another, which summons all the campers to assemble for a short calisthenics drill and a run around the open court or a lively folk-dance. At one typical camp, "If you don't go to 'cal,' you can't go swimming all day." If you come in a bathing suit, you can have a dip in the lake before breakfast. After breakfast there is a lively scramble to put the tents in ship-shape order for inspection. One tent-mate may sweep up the tent floor, another pick up whatever is astray, another make the beds, while the fourth rolls the flaps just so. For there is a banner at the end of the season for the best-kept tent. At nine is the assembly for morning prayers. A brief service, the announce- ments for the day made, various trips and parties planned, and then the camp songs. Those good old camp songs ! Besides the good old songs there are many jolly camp songs written by girls or councilors. Craft work keeps the campers busy until swimming hour. Girls come to camp "tired of books and lessons and the dead routine of school," but they love to work at basketry, pottery, stenciling, jewelry, leather work, bookbinding, and LIFE IN A GIRLS' CAMP THE MORNING RIDE carpentry. So fascinating is the craft work that if the next bugle call meant anything less than swimming there would be danger of its being unheeded. Each year Santa Claus is the custodian of attractive work- baskets, book-racks, stenciled curtains, em- broidered centerpieces, and even hand-made necklaces which he carries at the end of December to proud and happy parents and friends. The swimming at girls' camps has been carefully standardized. The different tests for advancement are based on self-control in the water, confidence, and good head-work, rather than on any exercise that greatly taxes heart or lungs. One of these is the "canoe test" — fifteen minutes above water. You may float or swim, as you like, and a boat keeps near you all the while. A girl may not go out in a canoe until she has passed this test. Eleanor was the first girl in camp to take the canoe test. When she came in to dinner, very rosy and her eyes beaming, all the campers joined in a song in her honor. Eleanor blushed violently, but in the next few days she had a chance to sing to many of her friends. That afternoon she tried her canoe. An athletic councilor paddled in the bow, Eleanor in the stern. She turned too short and they capsized. They were quickly picked up and headed for camp in a rowboat. Eleanor was beaming when she saw the camp leader. "I wasn't afraid," said she, "for I knew I was guaranteed to swim fifteen minutes." After dinner every one has an opportunity to take "forty winks ;" those who won't "wink" may write letters home; but every one must be quiet and give others a chance to rest. Then follows the reading hour, under a big tree, with sewing, if you like; and the afternoon excursions are planned. It may be a long trip on foot or horseback ; a night in the open, a trip to some distant mountain, with three nights on the way ; a three-day gypsying trip with a wagon for the baggage ; or it may be merely a quiet paddle along the lake shore. The lovely camp evening, with its basketball, tennis, a bonfire with camp songs and stories (or the fireside, if it rains), or a "sing" on the lake with all the campers in canoes, is brought to an end by the bugle again sounding in the deepening twilight. Taps, "lights out," find all quiet, except a giggle or two,, hushed by an honor girl, and the happy day is done. In a suburban town a committee of parents recently held a serious and prolonged discussion over the question of the recreation of the children of the community. A playground expert from a National association was called in to make a survey of the recreational facilities of the town. The survey revealed that "one- third of the leisure life of that town's boys and two-fifths of the leisure life of its girls are taken up in going down town, walking, and loafing." At this point an exasperated parent suggested that if children could have duties, tasks, and a child's measure of responsibility they could utilize what time they would have 10 LIFE IN A GIRLS' CAMP left for sport and recreation without suggestion from adults ; and they would not be found wasting the precious hours of playtime in aimlessly strolling down town and about the streets. Perhaps this wise parent had known in his boyhood days the joy of turning work into play. At a certain camp in New England there was an accumulation of rubbish to be disposed of soon after arrival. The camp leader suggested a bonfire. The idea was enthusiastically received, and rubbish was brought from all quarters of the camp grounds. Many hands piled it "high as the sky." When night came, there was a wild Indian dance and war-whoop, all joining hands, as the huge pile was lighted. That was a fine instance of making play out of work. It was some years ago when Janet came to camp. She came from a large city in the Middle West. Her "set" at home had parties almost every night. Janet was popular, too, with the boys. When she saw the campers in their bloomer costume, her face fell. They seemed so young. The camp leader found her weeping tears of homesickness when the train left which took her mother back to her Western home. "Janet, dear," she said, cheerily, ignoring the tears, "I want you to organize a basket-ball team. I have been depending on you for our team. Will you come out now and look over your material?" Janet came out. She looked over her "material." Somehow, in the bloomer costume, with her hair in braids, she looked just as young as they. And they were such nice-looking girls, she noticed. She soon had a good team chosen, and during that summer she developed qualities, not only of leadership, but of thoughtfulness and genuine friendliness. So popular was she that her name has been handed down through several summers, and still clings to the tent which she occupied. And when every once in a while she returns to visit the old camp, she is welcomed by all the camp- ers, old and new. In the democracy of camp life a girl finds herself in an environment of sim- plicity and freedom which stimulates her to activity. In place of languidly accept- ing a ready-made programme of play she must provide play activities for herself and others. There is no distinction in dress, for the camp costume is alike for all. A girl is rated by her achievement, not by externals. Moreover, she has a dis- tinct advantage in being rated well at the start, for, as one older brother put it, "Your camp takes it for granted that a girl is a good fellow till she proves that she isn't." Gwendolyn was orte of the few girls who failed to appreciate all this. She ought to have gone to camp sooner. For she had been around the world twice, had wintered in Japan, and had a yacht and an automobile. Yet these accessories, which stood her in such good stead at home, failed to make any impression at camp. Then Gwendolyn started stories about the other girls. The first one passed unheeded in the friendly atmosphere of camp democracy. She tried it again — unhappy Gwendolyn ! The second time the stories were repeated. The third time they were doubted ; but the fourth time, alas ! they were believed. But there was a reaction immediately. The stories were traced straight to Gwendolyn, and she became so unpopular that she actually became so miserable that she had to leave. "I had a hard rub," she wrote afterward, "but I know it did me good." She had found that trips around the world, yachts, and automobiles count for naught when a girl fails to be thoughtful and kind and generous. In camp a girl learns, like her brother, to be a "good sport." One way is to take defeat cheerfully and to honor your successful competitor. Another way to be a "good sport" in a girls' camp which some brave girls have learned is to 11 LIFE IN A GIRLS' CAMP QUIET HOUR LETTER refrain from doing things which you are not able to do. One girl with a weak heart learned this only when she had to be rescued because she tried to swim too far. But the spirit of restraint which she afterward showed was recognized by the campers to be just as fine as the spirit of daring in the others. Unfailing good humor is a strong char- acteristic of the girl camper. Any mention of discomfort is frowned upon, and an un- comfortable experience, whether in camp or abroad, is always made romantic in a song. The mountain trip, which involves sev- eral days' travel and some degree of hard- ship, is a good test of spirits and power of endurance. A party from one camp started out one fine day to climb a famous mountain, whose high peaks they had often viewed from afar at their camp home. They walked many miles to the base, and then traversed the long side of the mountain before they began to climb. Lunch and supper were eaten from knapsacks on the way. It was nearly dark when they reached the hut half-way up the mountain where arrangements had been made to spend the night. The hut, they found, had accommodations for but thirty. Another party had preceded them, and there were fifty-four. "We'll have to sleep like sardines," said one of the girls. And they did. By morning they had a jolly good song to take back to camp, as every party must, and every verse ended in "Roll over!" Next morning they started the long climb. Before they had gone far it be- gan to rain. A car passed them half-way up, filled with people comfortably seated on dry seats. "Only towering peaks and rocky paths can sturdy climbers thrill," the girls sang, "though others do their climbing in a car." Nearly drenched, but in excellent spirits, they reached the summit, again to find that the best rooms of the tip-top house were occupied by some gentlemen from New York. The gentlemen offered to vacate, but our girl campers stoutly refused. After being dried by a smoky fire, and passing a night on some extra bunks, they started down the mountain singing : "How many miles have we got to go, got to go, got to go, How many miles have we got to go, To catch the train to ?" It was afterwards learned that the gentlemen from New York caught cold on the way up the mountain, but never so much as a sneeze was recorded among the girl campers. Camp has valuable lessons for us all, the experiences of some parents being as significant as those of their offspring. A fond father brought his motherless little girl to camp. The mother's death was very recent, and Patty had never been away from home before. Papa stayed at the inn across the lake as long as business in the city would permit. The first night he looked out across the lake and saw the camp lights twinkling on the shore, he wondered about Patty. How would she get along without her maid to undress her? "But it will be a good 12 LIFE IN A GIRLS' CAMP experience for her," said he, shaking his head sadly. In the middle of the night a storm arose — wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. The waves beat against the rocks. Papa arose and paced the floor. "My poor little girl over there among the rocks and caves!" he groaned. "She will be frightened to death!" He wrung his hands. He continued to pace the floor until dawn. At the earliest possible moment he tried to reach the camp by telephone, only to find that no one from the outside could break into that camp, by telephone or otherwise, for another hour. He waited. He called again. Patty's voice came back, fresh and clear. "Yes, papa." "My darling," said papa, "were you frightened?" "At what, papa?" "The dreadful storm — thunder and lightning." There was a pause. He waited anxiously. After a minute came the reply. Patty's voice sounded puzzled. "I didn't hear it, papa." There are other parents who have learned the value of looking carefully into the management of the camp to which they wish to send their young daughter. For, although a camp may have an ideal location and beautiful scenery and model equipment, if it has not also wise leadership and the highest ideals of character, it will fail in its greatest obligation — the development of the highest type of womanhood. The result of camp training should be, and usually is, a sound mind in a sound body. At the same time, the camps reveal, by contrast, a deplorable lack in the present system of education for women. It is the failure to put the proper emphasis on physical development. The school and college — and the home as well — are not sending forth their daughters with a reserve of strength and steady nerve as a preparation for living. And there are other evidences of a need for revision of the educational sys- tem. Just as in industry women have been working under conditions designed for men, so it would seem, in the school and college, a man's programme is being imposed upon the girl student. Courses and methods which ignore the physical have been handed down from the past without proper adaptation to the needs of girls. Many of these courses are not related to the needs of the girl's after life. For instance, the study of dead languages and higher mathematics may be good mental exercise, but may be wholly unrelated to the life of the girl who is prepar- ing to make a home. And much of the girl student's work is still done by assimilation and imita- tion, rather than by methods which develop the imaginative, creative, and reason- ing faculties. We hear in these days of the "nervous strain of college life" — and sometimes we hear the same thing from school-girls. The reason for this, in the case of too many girls, is a lack of discrimination in not knowing how properly to balance their time with work, rest and play. Girls need to be taught how to relax. A camp girl said she found at college tired, overworked girls who did not know when they needed rest — not realizing that the mind and body, to keep healthy, must have complete quiet at times. "Some girls here," she says, "do not know the treasures in a long walk over hill and dale, along the brookside, through the woods, when all thoughts of lessons are left behind." The camp girl is taught how to divide her time. Play has a large place in her programme, and it furnishes valuable educational training. Through play she learns some of the first principles of the fine art of living — adaptability, re- liability, initiative, and good fellowship. She also realizes the great value of rest — sometimes solitude — and its relation 13 LIFE IN A GIRLS' CAMP to work and play. Off in a pine wood, beside a mountain stream, in a canoe, along shore, alone with nature or a companionable book, a camp girl can be happy for hours. "Invite your soul," is a familiar expression in a girls' camp. And then the camp girl works! She goes in for things, and works for the sake of working. It may be organizing sports, or some unfinished craft work, or a part of the domestic work of the camp assigned to her. Sometimes she puts in an hour or two on lessons which have to be made up for school in the fall. With superb health, exuberance of spirits, and pleasant companionship, she gets joy out of working. And a definite part of each camp day is sacredly devoted to work. Because she has learned the importance of accomplishing what she sets out to do and the advantage of team-work, the camp girl is depended on in college for the executive work in non-academic activities. It is said in one college that when a camp girl is made chairman of a committee that committee's work will be done well. Camp life gives a girl also a good store of knowledge as a preparation for her academic work. She knows not only how to bandage a cut and right an overturned canoe, but also how to recognize the stars and appreciate the poetry of scenery. Contact with the real world of nature develops an interest in scien- tific explanations and theories. Good health and a balanced mind bring many desirable qualities in their train — physical poise, toleration, friendliness, power of achievement, and that indefinable charm which is the glory of every woman with glowing health. READY FOR THE CANOE RACE 14 The Girl and the Camp By Elizabeth M. Fessenden By the Courtesy of The Outlook Co. and Miss Elizabeth Fessenden THE POETRY OF MOTION PRIMITIVE man was delighted to sleep in a wigwam and stride through the forest from daylight to dark — strong of muscle, straight of spine, keen of eye, quick of ear, alert, alive. He lived the life of the body. He wasn't worth much as a human being because he lived not the life of the soul. Then he got civilized, and was de- lighted to pass his days in the stuffy air and semi-darkness of libraries and labora- tories, puzzling out fine points through gold- mounted spectacles, bending a flat chest and round shoulders over the microscope to examine the tubercle bacillus — flabby of muscle, sallow of skin, shifty of gait, slug- gish of circulation, dyspeptic, nervous. He lived what he intended for a life of the soul. He wasn't worth much as a human being because he lived not the life of the body. And — can you believe it? — he never once thought of his birch canoe and the fresh breezes of his old-time forest! He went to compounding drugs for him- self and began to gorge pills and powders and black mixtures. And he was nothing better, but rather grew worse. The tubercle bacillus munched peacefully on. The nerves shrieked louder. Then at last, when the day of utter need was come, there began to be heard faintly above the din and confusion of man's civilized life "the call of the wild." He listened. The old savage in him began to stir. He obeyed. But at first only a few of him. Freaks they were thought, but they dared to be queer. And the cry grew louder and reached deafer ears, and many a weak heart began to flutter with faint stirrings of hope that civilization might yet be saved. The men of the Thoreau type began to be seen, not as simpletons, but as prophets of the simple — as voices crying in the wilderness that man must get back to nature if he would live. And he is going back. Thank the Lord, nowadays even doctors — some of them — are getting more in love with God's medicine than the chemist's ! Not only have the days gone by when dried powdered toad and snakeskin mixed with molasses were popular remedies, but even pretty pink pills have lost some of their charm. The camphor and paregoric bottles get a bit dusty on the shelf, and the sage M.D. — at least the most up-to-date specimen of him — will tell you not to sit by the fire and swallow drugs, but to get out. Luckily "the call of the wild"* sounds in every human heart that has not quite lost its primitive simplicity. In some perhaps it is entirely outdinned by the call of the ledger or the reception invitation or the ancient manuscript. In others it is only made faint by these nearer noises. But in many it rings out clear and imperative. "The red gods call and he must go." 15 THE GIRL AND THE CAMP He ! Why not she ? Must her nerves still shriek, her wits still vanish ? Must all, then, still be lost through her? Perhaps Kipling didn't know it, but she was once a child of the forest, too. Why must it be ever he? She needs it ever more. He at least has not lived all his days tied up in petticoats and pinched up in corsets, and he hasn't, with pegs under his heels, hobbled through life, stiff, stilted, stylish. He has known at least a little freedom. And the red gods do call her equally, but she has generally felt that she mustn't go. Her duty to the petti- coats and various instruments of torture forbade. Hunting parties, canoe trips, boys' camps for him. For her Well, yes, of late years the red gods have made special arrangements for her too. She has joined mountain clubs. Some of the most energetic specimens of her have made ascensions that have caused the world's hair to stand on end. A few of her, with an eye to business, have shaken off the dust of the city streets and its germs and have gone to farming it. And, at last, girls' camps ! Among the long lists of camps for boys are gradually creeping in a goodly number for girls, the high-water mark so far perhaps in this great movement for the salvation of the race. Actually for girls, a camp ! A place where the red gods reign supreme ! And for girls ! Doesn't it seem almost too good to be true? The object of a girls' camp, then, is health. But we have emerged from the age when the world believed that health of body and health of soul were dis- sociable things. We used to know all about it. Here was soul and here was body. You could educate one without affecting the other. One could be sick while the other was well. We don't know so much as we used to. Now we don't know where soul ends and body begins. We do know one thing, though, or we think we do : that whatever effects soul will affect body, and whatever affects body will affect soul. Education must be for both soul and body. The girls' camp, which is part of the great educational scheme, seeks health for the girl's body because interested in her soul, and seeks health for her soul because in- terested in her body, and seeks health for both her body and her soul bcause interested in her. First, then, health for the girl's body. What are the means used by the camp to attain it ? Physical exercise, rest, fresh air, good food, proper clothing. The forms of physical exercise are such as fill the heart of girlhood with delight — swimming, diving, rowing, paddling, tramping, mountain climbing, active games, such as basket-ball and tennis. "Splendid !" exclaims Mrs. Strenuous. But Mrs. Cautious is thinking to herself, "But, oh, how much danger that the girls will overdo !" Well, Mrs. Cautious, you would be right if you had in mind an ill-managed camp. But many, if not all, of the camp leaders are highly con- scientious mortals singularly fitted for this work by training and experience. Many of the camps are conducted by teachers, some by fathers and mothers joining hands to take care of other people's children as well as their own, one by a mother and daughter, the daughter a teacher of manual training, one by a physical director and a doctor, both women. With leadership of this stamp the danger of harm from too much exercise is vastly less than the danger in ordinary life from too little. Of course the regime can't be the same for strong girls and for weak ones. A physical examination at the beginning goes far to show what each girl may be allowed to do. If she is found to have strong heart and lungs, well-developed muscles, straight spine, good feet, her exercise may increase rapidly, until she is able to do with ease and profit feats that might seem to Mrs. Cautious alarming. But if the stethoscope shows weak heart and lungs, if the muscles are flabby, the 16 THE GIRL AND THE CAMP spine crooked, the feet weak, the whole condition of a rather low tone, her time for swimming must be short. She must take short walks rather than long tramps. She must avoid the more strenuous games. The leader of the camp must take careful note whether this girl eats well and sleeps well, whether she shows signs of fatigue after exertion, what the sphygmomanometer says about her from time to time, and must regulate her activity accordingly. It is almost certain that soon, instead of nibbling a little at dinner, this frail camper will hungrily devour "seconds," as the girls say. Her strength will increase, her enthusiasm will grow more and more. As the weeks go on she can do things with ease and delight that would have exhausted her at the beginning. She gains pound after pound. Her muscles grow hard, her face ruddy, her eyes bright. The joy of living takes firm hold of her, and the delight of her parents when they see her again testifies to the change. This is not theory. It is history. A few of the camps receive only thoroughly healthy girls, but most of them welcome also the frail. And possibly the most delightful chapter in a camp's history is the tale of how these fragile creatures were transformed into rugged beings, ready for life and work. A little gymnastic lesson for "setting-up" purposes is part of the camp's daily programme, but elaborate gymnastic work is left for the days of cold and storm when winter and city make the gymnasiums a priceless blessing. In the summer days, when the "cunning green leaves" are ever beckoning us on to the enjoy- ment of "God's great big outdoors," the emphasis is laid on games and sports. If physical exercise is absolutely necessary for a girl's healthy development, not less so is rest. In most camps nothing disturbs the "stilly night" after nine o'clock, and the younger campers close their eyes at an even earlier hour. The time for rising varies from six to seven of the clock. Thus the campers get a night nine or ten hours long, and even longer for the little girls. But this is not all. A quiet hour after dinner prevails besides. This generous amount of rest- ing is felt to be necessary to offset the lively exercise, and the wisdom of it is shown by this fact. In spite of her strenuous mode of existence, which might be expected to use up most of her adipose tissue, the girl camper usually gains a goodly number of pounds. "Look at the elephant I've brought you!" exclaimed an older brother as he presented to the father and mother in September his nineteen pounds heavier camp sister. But the elephant needn't worry. If the pounds are too many, they will speedily vanish. Fresh air rules supreme in camp. Three square meals a day are served, either entirely outdoors or in an open, airy dining-room, and in almost all camps inside sleeping has been discarded in favor of open tents. With the flaps and walls of her tent rolled up, a girl is practically sleeping outdoors with only a canvas roof to keep the star-dust out of her eyes. And not infrequently she carries her cot out of the tent and lets her eyes take their chances of injury from star-dust! Of course the games and sports go on in the open, and, in some camps at least, even the reading and writing and singing go on under the trees. Re- flector lanterns help for evenings out of doors, and the moon makes perfect the evening of rowing on the lake. And on a cold evening what can more warm the heart, not to mention the hands and feet, than a big, roaring camp-fire about which the girls can caper and frisk, can sing and listen to stories ? To be sure, rain will fall sometimes even on campers, but since, as a rule, they know enough to go in out of the rain, they must be housed for a time, and they can be trusted to find merriment by the fireside within as without. The first season of one camp was a time of drought, and, except for their physical examinations, the girls were hardly inside the house during the whole eight weeks. 17 THE GIRL AND THE CAMP While the scientists are theorizing and experimenting and contradicting each other and changing their minds on the ever-interesting subject of food, the camps are trying their best to be hygienic. Everywhere the emphasis is laid on fresh vegetables, fruit, milk, cream, and eggs rather than on meat. One camp has ab- jured the flesh-pots of Egypt altogether, and sets a vegetarian table with a trained dietitian to provide a well-balanced menu. And the girls seem as happy and rosy as any beef-fed maidens. In almost every camp the effort is toward plain food, nourishing, abundant, and what the palate shall pronounce good, so that that zest shall be added to digestion which follows on the smacking of the lips. Eating between meals is discouraged. Extra light lunches are served, however, in some camps. For instance, when supper is served at half after five, milk or crackers and milk are taken before retiring. One camp serves a light luncheon at ten in the morning, another at four in the afternoon. In almost every camp there are stringent rules concerning the buying and eating of sweets ; and probably this rescue of the girls from the soda fountain and the ever-open candy-box is one of the real causes for their improvement during the summer. It is such a rest from dissipation for their overtired stomachs. It isn't noticed that the stomachs rest from legitimate labor, however! If an ordinary good meal is a square meal, the meal of a girl camper after a few weeks of outdoor living is a cube at the very least. Clothing! That knottiest of problems for the modern female! Mind per- plexed and almost baffled by changing fashions and the ever-present, ever-pressing question, What shall we wear? Body perplexed and almost baffled by the ever- present, ever-pressing effort to wear it! Oh, the fredom of a camp costume! For one thing, it means bloomers — at least about camp, and sometimes even for going abroad when the company is large enough. For another thing it means a &.■ *, ^tTw^^SijIb^^^H ^P^., ~r r / ftiBBfr '•'jaB fe*" 1 ~^i £k* jl £^f a|# 9 s f . *A.i *^5PH| "■'.:. ■■*» - " U^ ■ • BEST OF FRIENDS TOGETHER 18 THE GIRL AND THE CAMP loose blouse, usually a white "middy." Camp feet are shod, as a rule, with tennis shoes or sneakers. Camp heads are crowned with soft slouch hats or wide- brimmed straw. The "dress parade uniform" usually includes a blouse to match the bloomers, and a skirt. Sometimes the skirt is long, although in one camp at least it is a little skirt just below the knee and made to button down the front, so that in climbing a mountain a girl can take it off, roll it up and tie it to her belt, and use it for a cape at the top. The costume is in the camp colors — green and white, khaki and green, khaki and brown, or the foresters' colors, russet and green. One day a member of the Appalachian Mountain Club met a company of these russet and green forest maidens coming down a mountain, and afterward told a friend he had met a company of woodland nymphs on the mountain. So much for the means whereby the camp seeks health for the girl's body. Now what are the aids to health of soul? We should have to begin all over again with the same list — physical exercise, rest, fresh air, etc. — since the greatest aid to health of soul is health of body. But there are other aids towards soul health in camp life. Possibly the very foremost agency is the happiness of the whole thing — the blessedness that so naturally comes from this free life in the big outdoors. Doubtless the beauty of nature is a large part of it. Who can estimate what it means to the soul of a girl when every morning she opens her eyes to look out on a great vision of widespread mountains and lakes, when her daily walks are through the solemn woods, when her choicest artist is the painter of the sunset, when her angelus is the evening song of the thrushes, her night watchman the silent stars ? The direct study of nature is another element. Can we do for children a sweeter thing than to make them acquainted with Mother Nature in her various ways and works ? Will anything else so surely crowd out frivolous, vain, foolish, selfish, and even impure thoughts and desires as an early and deeply implanted love for birds and trees and flowers and all sweet fresh woodsy things ? These studies are carried on entirely informally and in the field. No text-books to grind over, thank you ! The girls learn to know the birds by sight and by their songs, and study their habits, find their nests, watch the process of rearing the young. Some house wrens once made their nest in the hunting-grounds of a certain camp. A series of watches was instituted, one hour each, from four in the morning to eight at night. The watchers were all volunteers. Count was kept of the num- ber of feedings and their nature, whether worms, caterpillars, grasshoppers, or what not ; and note was made of other proceedings. For instance, the first watcher reported herself scolded for fifteen solid minutes by the irate little wren. The total number of feedings was found to be two hundred and seventeen. It is easy for the girls to learn the names of the wild flowers and ferns, and they are supposed to learn, too, to distinguish the trees by their leaves and bark. The idea is to lead the girl to be, not a stranger, but at home in nature's world, and to gain the simplicity of spirit, the out-of-door breeziness, that give inspira- tion and charm to nature lovers the world over. Camp ministers to soul health, too, through the simplicity and wholesomeness of the special pleasures — not theaters and dances, with their excitements and fluffy ruffles and rivalries, but picnics in wonderful mountain places, hayrick rides, coach- ing trips, launch rides in and out among the islands and inlets of a lovely lake, mountain climbings where the reward of sturdy effort is breathless beauty, camp- ing parties where the girls try the simple life reduced to its lowest terms, sleeping on the ground and cooking over an outdoor fire. The mountain climbing may 19 THE GIRL AND THE CAMP include such a camping party, for sometimes the strongest girls climb carrying their blanket rolls, and then they enjoy the wonderful experience of a night on top and a sunrise from that height. Much mental and moral discipline, we all admit, comes from drill in team work. What young person, aged sixteen, can without a struggle subordinate her important personality to the best interests of her team in basket-ball or of her crew in barge rowing or war-canoe paddling? And yet this ability to pull together is one of the chief lessons life has to offer. Physical courage is admittedly a branch of education in which girls need lessons, all their ordinary life and training tending to decrease, rather than aug- ment, their original supply. If swimming and diving had been invented on pur- pose to teach courage and self-reliance, we all should say the inventor had done well. Especially does swimming in deep water develop these qualities ; and let no one say that a real coward will ever make up her mind to take her first dive ! These sports are made very safe in camp. A boat is always on the spot, and a trusty oarsman sits, oars in hand, ready to go to any one in need. No page in girls' camp history is darkened by a drowning accident. The swim is perhaps the favorite part of the daily programme in all camps. The length of time devoted to it varies. Most of the camps begin with a few minutes, in one instance only six, and increase gradually to twenty minutes or half an hour. On a cold day the time will be shorter than on a hot one, and delicate girls must go out of the water before the rest do. Practically every girl learns to swim the first season, and in deep water at that. Some also become excellent divers. In the camps where horseback riding is a part of the programme, that is as good a courage teacher as swimming, perhaps ; and if these sports teach self- reliance, so does going it alone in a boat, and this is allowed in some camps as a special honor. But a swimming test precedes, and in some instances it is a severe one. Don't feel troubled, Mrs. Cautious, my friend. Before a camper is allowed to try her half-mile she can swim it more easily than you can walk that far ! A swimming test always precedes the use of canoes, and girls are never allowed to go out in these little craft without councilors. Some camps elect not to use canoes at all. 