“They’re Scouts as near like Boy Scouts as girls can be. Our organization was started in England by Sir Baden Powell, and his sister started the Girl Scouts, then Mrs. Juliette Low got the idea and brought it over to the United States. The movement has spread so that now there are hundreds and hundreds of Girl Scouts all over the country, and I tell you they are just fine. My mother was captain of a troop, but she had to give it up.”
“I’m going to ask her to tell me about her troop, do you call it? I love that. My father was a navy man, you know, and it does appeal to me, troops and captains and things. My father was only a lieutenant for he was very young when he died.”
“Of course mother will tell you about her troop. She’d love to, for if there is anything mum’s daffy about it is the Girl Scout idea.”
So Joanne sought out Mrs. Marriott and listened attentively while she was being informed of the Girl Scout activities. “I think it must be the finest thing to be one,” she commented at last.
“It certainly is fine and dandy to be a Boy Scout,” Bob put in, “so it must be just as fine for a girl.”
Joanne was very thoughtful for a moment before she said: “I’m afraid my grandparents wouldn’t like the idea.”
“Pooh! Why not?” queried Bob.
“Oh, because they don’t like me to do conspicuous things; they’d object to my marching in a parade, for instance.”
“Pooh!” exclaimed Bob again. “You’d be just one of a bunch, all dressed alike and no one would notice you particularly any more than if you were one potato in a bushel.”
Joanne laughed but immediately looked serious again, then she went on: “They’d be scared to death for fear I’d overtax my strength. Gradda is always talking about me overtaxing my strength, and charging me not to take cold and all that sort of thing.” She turned to Mrs. Marriott. “I wish you’d get acquainted with Gradda; she’s Mrs. Gregory Selden, you know. You could get to talking about how interesting and fine it is to be a Girl Scout and get her used to the idea gradually. It would never do to spring it on her suddenly; she’d get all ruffled up like a hen with one chick.”