The Greycliff Girls in Camp

The Greycliff girls who had decided to go to the girls’ camp in Maine with Patricia West, their English teacher, were busy getting ready their camp equipment in the short time which elapsed between the close of school and their departure for camp. School had closed early in June and Merrymeeting Camp did not open until July 5th, but Miss West, who had been a councillor at camp for several seasons, was to have charge of a delightful and instructive trip that was offered by the camp authorities to any of the older girls who wanted to take it. This would give them the opportunity to see Niagara, Toronto, Lake Ontario, the St. Lawrence and Thousand Islands, Montreal, and the White Mountains. The trip was so planned that the girls would see the best part of the scenery by day, and would have rest at hotels from the necessary sleeping car and boat travel. All reservations were made on boat and train and at hotels, and in the case of the girls leaving with the Cincinnati parties, even baggage was called for at the homes and the tickets purchased.

Letters went back and forth. Hilary Lancaster was now living in Cincinnati, which was also Miss West’s home. Helen Paget and Evelyn Calvert, two Southern girls who had been at Greycliff, were to join Hilary, visiting her a day or two and starting with her party. Cathalina Van Buskirk and Lilian North were to join them at Buffalo; Betty Barnes, at Toronto, where she was visiting her aunt.

“The whole ‘quartet’ of our suite will be together on this trip,” wrote Lilian to Hilary, “and more of our special friends at camp,—won’t it be jolly? I’ve never seen Niagara, nor ever been out of the United States. I wrote to Eloise and urged her to come, but she says that she can not possibly get ready so soon and will have to meet us at camp if she gets there at all!”

It was the last Thursday in June, and the train to Buffalo was to leave at 6:05 P.M. Cincinnati was steaming with heat during one of those days which the beautiful Queen City can serve to its inhabitants in summer. Perspiration shone on faces and trickled down backs. The Central Union Station was like an oven, but cheerful, happy faces and lively conversation, anticipatory of interesting experiences, brightened the farewells.

Both Dr. and Mrs. Lancaster, with Mary, Gordon and Tommy, were there to see Hilary and June off; for June, to her great delight, was going too. Dr. Lancaster had packed the whole family, with their guests, Helen and Evelyn, into his car, recently presented to him by his congregation, and brought them from the parsonage to the station. Already Miss West was there, with three first-year high-school girls, Jean Marshall, Marjorie White and Rhoda Jenkins, known later at camp as “Jenkie” or “Jenks”.

“Think of the cool breezes in Maine,” said Dr. Lancaster, as he delivered several small suit-cases to their owners and took out a big white handkerchief, “to catch his tears”, as Tommy said.

“Tommy and I are going to our aunt’s for a visit,” said Gordon to Miss West, for he wanted it to be known that he was not entirely left out of good times. “And Father says that p’raps we can go to Boothbay Camp next summer. The oldest got to go first in our family!”

Time sped on as they chatted, till presently the iron gates opened and with Miss West and the tickets in the lead, the girls passed through. A few friends were permitted to accompany them and escort them to the train.

“Don’t forget your pocket-book, Jean,” admonished one auntie, through the open window.

“Yes, do hang on to that, or let Miss West carry your money,” added another.

“I’ve been known to leave my pocket-book,” explained Jean aside to Hilary. “Please take this twenty-five, Miss West.”

“Be sure to write a card in Buffalo, Hilary,” said Dr. Lancaster.

“O, yes, Father, we’ll write a post-card from every single place,” replied June, happily excited over the trip, “alone, with only Hilary!”

It was some time before the train started, and how they longed to get away from the hot station! The electric fans started and gave some relief. Bags or suit-cases were arranged, hats and umbrellas disposed of, while Miss West counted noses and saw that each girl was in her own section or knew where it was.

“Let me see. Hilary, you and June are in number nine, right over Helen and Evelyn. Too bad you have to double in an upper. Won’t you take my berth?”

“No, indeed; thank you, Miss West. It was our fault that we did not decide about June’s going till the last minute. I’m thankful that we could get the other reservations.”

“We are nicely fixed, close together and in the center of the car. Don’t forget your numbers.”

One of the girls had never slept in a Pullman before and longed to ask many questions; but ashamed to appear ignorant before the others, she foolishly would have waited to find out herself as best she could, had not June, who was not in the least ashamed of not having traveled at night, asked Hilary the very questions which gave the necessary information.

At last the train started. The electric lights, which had added so much to the heat, were turned off. “O, goody, we’re moving!” exclaimed June, settling comfortably back by Hilary, who had put June next to the window and was fanning them both. “Goodbye, dear old Cincy, we’re going to see lots of rivers and lakes and boats and things before we get back to the Ohio and the Island Queen or the Morning Star.”

Candy boxes came out immediately and were passed around, but to Miss West’s surprise and relief, the girls tasted sparingly.

“No, thanks,” said Marjorie, as Jean offered her a box of chocolates, “I promised Mother not to touch candy till the trip was at least almost over. She wanted me to get there all right. And any way this is my summer to reduce. I have to take a dip every morning, get to breakfast on time, go on the hikes and everything. And here old Jean eats twice as much as I do, and see how nice and slim she is.”

“It’s in our family to be skinny,” remarked Jean. “I like what you say about my eating twice as much as you do,” she continued, grinning at Marjorie. “No, thank you; I had two caramels and a bonbon. See? I brought along an Atlantic Monthly to show how high-brow I am. Auntie bought it for me, though.”

Different magazines were produced and the girls settled down quietly to read, chat, or watch the passing scenery. As night drew on, cooler air came in the screened windows. The girls, tired with the heat and the activities incident to their departure, were glad to get to their berths as soon as the porter made them up.

“How do we ever get up there, Hilary?” asked June.

“O, the porter will bring a little ladder and will help us up; and in the morning we’ll press a little button to ring for him and he’ll help us down again.”

The tips of brown or black oxfords peeped from beneath the green curtains behind which quiet, well-behaved girls were quickly preparing for the night. “Here’s the hanger for our coats, Helen,” whispered Evelyn. “Maybe we can get our dresses on it too.”

“Let’s use that for our dresses, they’re longer. I’ll get a hanger out of my suit-case for the coats, or we can fold them and put them on the shelf. See these hooks? You just pull them out straight. We certainly shall never need that blanket!”

“No telling, when we get up near the lake. Why do they always have the pillow on the end toward the engine?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to double mine up so I won’t break my neck if the train bumps when it starts or stops.”

“Mother said if we wanted to sleep on our valuables not to tuck them under our pillows where any thief could get them by slipping in a hand, but to put them inside a pillow case and turn the open end of that toward the inside.”

“I’d go off and leave them in the morning! The only safety for me is to have them pinned to me, I guess.”

“All right, girls?”—in Miss West’s quiet voice, as she paused by the various curtains. Soft replies assured her that everybody was comfortable and soon quiet reigned in the car, except when the porter passed through with some late arrival from one of the towns at which the train stopped.

“I can’t go to sleep, Hilary,” whispered June about midnight.

“Are you comfy?”

“O, yes!”

“Well, don’t worry; nobody will sleep much, I suspect, this first night. We’ll be at a hotel tomorrow night. Maybe we can rest and doze a little. It’s getting cooler, isn’t it? Let’s draw up the blanket.”

Assured that it could not hurt anybody if she did not sleep, June promptly dozed off. Such is the power of suggestion.

Breakfast over at Buffalo, the girls were writing cards home while waiting for the train to Niagara. While they were thus engaged in a corner of the waiting room where they had deposited their baggage and one or two parcels which had already been added to the impedimenta, a bright face peeped around the corner. “O, here they are, Cathalina!” and with this Lilian North, smiling and happy, made her appearance.

Everybody jumped up. “Where were you children?” inquired Hilary from Lilian’s embrace. “We thought you had missed a train or something.”

“No, Phil brought us in the auto, rather the chauffeur did, but Philip was the official care-taker. Here he is, with Cathalina.”