“When you were afraid to walk along that ledge with me I was sort of disappointed. But I see now I should never have asked a girl to go out on a place like that. There’s something else besides stunts in scouting, I’ve learned that from you. All this chasing around in the woods doesn’t mean anything unless you’re strong for service. You’ve got to learn to be strong in every way—so as to make good citizens.”
Poor Tom, he was very far gone in admiration for this girl in khaki who was afraid to go out on a ledge. He saw the new light which she showed him with a readiness which should have flattered her. It was just her own teaching reflected as in a mirror.
What he never thought to remind her was that the great outdoors, the woods, the rough life, and even the dangerous ledges, are what make one big and broad. And that if one is big and broad and wholesome, why then he has a fine character and if he has a fine character he is a good citizen. And that’s all there is to it. Poor Tom, with all his wholesome, adventurous life, could not see this because pretty and clever Audry Ferris got in the path of his vision and dazzled him. She was not superior to him, she was only smarter.
“It isn’t strength of body that makes a soldier,” she said. “It’s strength of character. To have the strength to do something unpleasant because it’s right. That was what won the war. That was what triumphed over militarism—bodily strength.”
“You—bet—your—sweet—life,” said Tom. “I wish some of those kids at Temple Camp could hear you talk. They seem to think scouting is just a game. Why you never see any of them studying. We have laws, good ones, but do you suppose they ever read them? Not much.”
“As I understand it,” said Audry, “it isn’t just building bonfires and sending signals and all that. It’s the idea of service—”
“Why sure it is,” Tom vociferated. “You see right through it.”
“Service for the common good,” she said.
“Absolutely,” said Tom.
She had read the phrase in a book but poor Tom did not know that.