“In the midst of holiday meetings
Radiant with hope and cheer,
A Lone Scout sends you greetings
For Christmas and the New Year.”
When the girls had ceased discussing the little poem and Kara’s accident the summer before, followed a sudden silence of intense and almost painful suspense.
Sheila Mason, the Troop Captain, leaned over. Her hands were clasped tightly together. Only a few years over twenty, with pale-gold hair and delicate features, she was not much older in appearance than several of her own Scouts. In fact, her own unfitness for her position had troubled her greatly in the early days of her work as a Captain. Of late she had become so absorbed in the work that the fear of her own unfitness only affected her occasionally.
“Before we begin what I think is going to be a rare and wonderfully beautiful occasion, I want to talk to you for a few moments.
“We were all, and I equally so, fascinated with Tory’s idea that for this winter we organize our Patrol of Girl Scouts into ‘The Girl Scouts of the Round Table’—each one of us to bear the name of one of the Knights of the Round Table and to promise among ourselves to perform whatever acts of valor and service we are able.
“The suggestion was fanciful, as most of Tory’s suggestions are, yet at first I saw no reason to object. Later I began to be troubled for fear it might in some fashion interfere with our Girl Scout principles and organization. I wrote to the National Headquarters explaining the situation and asking for information and advice. I assured them that under no circumstances would we be willing to break any rule of the organization. Our desire was to play a kind of idealized game, or something more than a game, which would last through the winter rather than through a single evening.
“I merely wanted to tell you we have received their consent and they are deeply interested. Now it is growing late and we must begin.”