“Well, I don’t like work, anyhow, and I don’t believe I ever shall, Miss Eleanor, no matter what it’s called. Some of it isn’t as bad as some other kinds, that’s all.”
Eleanor laughed to herself, because she knew Dolly well enough not to take such declarations too seriously.
“I’ve got some work for you to-night,” she said. “I want you and Bessie to go to a meeting of the girls that belong to one of the churches here, and tell them about the Camp Fire. They found out we were coming, and they would like to know if they can’t start a Camp Fire of their own.
“And I think they’ll get a better idea of things, and be less timid and shy about asking questions if two of you girls go than if I try to explain. I will come in later, after they’ve had a chance to talk to you two, but by that time they ought to have a pretty clear idea.”
“That’s not work, that’s fun,” declared Dolly.
“I’m glad you think so, because you will be more likely to be successful.”
And so after supper Bessie and Dolly went, with two girls who called for them, to the Sunday School room of one of the Windsor churches, ready to do all they could to induce the local girls to form a Camp Fire of their own. And, being thoroughly enthusiastic, they soon fired the desire of the Windsor girls.
“They won’t have just one Camp Fire; they’ll have two or three,” predicted Dolly, when she and Bessie were walking back to the boarding-house later with Eleanor Mercer. “They asked plenty of questions, all right. Nothing shy about them, was there, Bessie?”
Bessie laughed.
“Not if asking questions proves people aren’t shy,” she admitted. “I thought they’d never stop thinking of things to ask.”