"Four hundred and twenty-two dollars!" she announced; and the girls broke into uproarious applause.
"Since this is our last meeting in the old year," she went on, "I especially want the new girls to take their Tenderfoot tests. But before that, and before we talk over the Christmas plans that Ruth Henry suggested several weeks ago, I desire to read you some letters.
"I went to the office of our little local newspaper, The Star, and asked whether any poor children had written to Santa Claus through them.
"The woman in charge was awfully nice; she smiled sort of tenderly, as if all the children belonged to her.
"'Indeed we have,' she replied, opening a drawer. 'Look at this bunch.'
"And she handed me these"—Miss Phillips held up a handful of torn, dirty pieces of all kinds of paper, except writing paper—"and I discovered there were thirty-two of them, all so quaint and funny. So I said I would put the matter up to you Scouts to-night, and report to her to-morrow."
"Oh, let's give them a party, and a tree, and the presents they want," cried Marjorie, anxious for everyone to know that she did not want to monopolize all of the money for Frieda.
"Read them, please, Captain!" begged Frances.
Miss Phillips opened two or three, selected one, and read slowly, apparently encountering difficulty in the spelling: