had been accomplished Tommy swept up and down the tent, surveying herself
in the mirror from various different attitudes.

"How do you like me?" she demanded, squinting up at Harriet.

"You will do very well if you fix your hair. It looks frightful, Tommy.
You must spend more time with it. The way you wear your hair reminds me of
Crazy Jane."

"Oh, dear. I can't thpend the time to bother with it. I'm too buthy. You
do it for me."

"I will help you, of course, if you wish, but a Camp Girl should be able
to do such things for herself. Now you watch me do mine. While you are
watching, give your own hair a good brushing."

Harriet parted her hair in the middle in a very straight line, divided it
into four strands, which she wound into as many soft coils, two at the
nape of the neck and one on each side half concealing her ears. She pinned
it securely, then with artistic precision fluffed a few locks of hair
about her temples.

"There!" she said, turning a smiling face to her little companion who had
been observing her admiringly.

"I couldn't do that with my hair."

"I know that, dear. Your hair is not as thick as mine. Now let me see what
you can do with yours. It looks better now that you have brushed it out."

Tommy arranged herself before a mirror. She braided her light hair tightly
into a pig-tail, tying it about half way up with a black ribbon. Stray
ends, like the unraveled strands of a rope were left stringing down over
her ears, giving to her face a more impish expression than it had worn
before. She turned from the mirror in which she had been admiring her
handiwork, to meet the laughing eyes of her companion.

"How do you like me?"

"Oh, I don't know. At least it looks better than it did."

"Fine, ithn't it? Crathy Jane'th hair never looked tho well ath that. But
thith dreth ith a little too thombre for one of my age, don't you think?"
questioned Tommy wisely.

"I think they will forget all about the sombreness of the dress when they
see your happy face," answered Harriet. "Besides, it is the dress that
all the girls here are wearing. I call it a very pretty uniform. I hope
Margery had the buttons sewed securely on hers. If not she will burst them
all off the first time she stoops over."

"Yeth, Buthter ith too fat," agreed Tommy. "Thay, Harriet?"

"Yes?"

"I don't like Patrithia and Cora."

"You shouldn't say that. You hardly know them."

"I don't want to. Every time they look at me they l