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Updated: June 14, 2025
In her rôle of Camp Fire Guardian she was not assured of the wisdom of their proceedings and could find no precedent for it among other Camp Fire clubs. However, Miss McMurtry had consented to join their meeting and, as she had been the original and was now the head Guardian of all the clubs in Woodford, the responsibility might honestly be shared with her.
"We might call you 'Our Lady Protector'; it is just another expression for guardian," Mollie O'Neill proposed uncertainly, not because she had any enthusiasm for her idea but because no one else had anything better to introduce, but before Miss McMurtry could answer, Polly's laugh had settled the proposition.
I wish I could talk like Betty and Polly, but you do understand what I mean," Sylvia concluded with tears compounded of embarrassment and earnestness standing in her light blue eyes. "Hear, hear!" whispered Miss McMurtry a little uncertainly. Rose Dyer clapped her hands softly together.
Then Miss McMurtry held a kind of impromptu examination in questions of patriotism and nature lore, the girls and men managing to about equally divide the honors.
So skilfully and quietly had the older girl gone to work that both Rose Dyer and Miss McMurtry were under the impression that the original suggestion had come from the culprit herself.
"Yes, I know," the girl answered, "but just the same, please hurry and let me know what you yourself honestly think. At least, I shall be able to tell myself whether my eyes are injured, as soon as you let me try them in a bright light." For a fraction of a moment Dr. Barton delayed his work. "Won't you allow me to call your mother, or Miss Dyer or Miss McMurtry? Miss Dyer is in the house.
Then gaily the entire procession made for camp, but as Miss McMurtry and Esther heard them coming when some distance off, they did not seem particularly surprised at their advance.
She looked slowly about at the ten faces gazing upon her with rapt attention and then sang in a low tone, and yet one that could be distinctly heard, this ancient Indian chant. This chant signified the opening of the Council Fire. For the next moment Miss McMurtry turned toward the heap of wood carefully placed in the center of the circle, by the wood-gatherers.
Perhaps to some of the girls the idea of a summer camp seemed too beautiful to be possible, yet plainly the ideals of the Camp Fire organization, as Miss McMurtry explained them more fully, had fired their imaginations, filling them with new hopes and enthusiasm.
Miss McMurtry had called him by name several times and no human being could be entirely oblivious of a person so near, unless under some peculiar stress of emotion. Anthony felt his former nervousness leaving him. He was no longer blushing; his face had become white and a little stern.
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