father brought his motherless little girl to camp. The mother's death was very recent, and Patty had never been away from home before. Papa stayed at the inn across the lake as long as business in the city would permit. The first night he looked out across the lake and saw the camp lights twinkling on the shore, he wondered about Patty. How would she get along without her maid to undress her? "But it will be a good experience for her," said he, shaking his head sadly. In the middle of the night a storm arose-wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. The waves beat against the rocks. Papa arose and paced the floor. "My poor little girl over there among the rocks and caves!" he groaned. "She will be frightened to death !" He wrung his hands. He continued to pace the floor until dawn. At the earliest possible moment he tried to reach the camp by telephone, only to find that no one from the outside could break into that camp, by telephone or otherwise, for another hour. He waited. He called again. Patty's voice came back, fresh and clear. papa." "My darling," said papa, you frightened?" "At what, papa ?" "The dreadful storm-thunder and lightning." There was a pause. He waited anxiously. After a minute came the reply. Patty's voice sounded puzzled. "I didn't hear it, papa."

66

"Yes,

were

There are other parents who have learned the value of looking carefully into the management of the camp to which they wish to send their young daughter. For, although a camp may have an ideal location and beautiful scenery and model equipment, if it has not also wise leadership and the highest ideals of character, it will fail in its greatest obligation-the development of the highest type of womanhood.

The result of camp training should be, and usually is, a sound mind in a sound body. At the same time, the camps reveal, by contrast, a deplorable lack in the present system of education for women. It is the failure to put the proper emphasis on physical development. The school and college-and the home as well-are not sending forth their daughters with a reserve of strength and steady nerve as a preparation for living.

And there are other evidences of a need for revision of the educational system. Just as in industry women have been working under conditions designed for men, so it would seem, in the school and college, a man's programme is being imposed upon the girl student. Courses and methods which ignore the physical have been handed down from the past without proper adaptation to the needs of girls.

Many of these courses are not related to

the needs of the girl's after life. For instance, the study of dead languages and higher mathematics may be good mental exercise, but may be wholly unrelated to the life of the girl who is preparing to make a home.

And much of the girl student's work is still done by assimilation and imitation, rather than by methods which develop the imaginative, creative, and reasoning faculties.

We hear in these days of the "nervous strain of college life"-and sometimes we hear the same thing from school-girls. The reason for this, in the case of too many girls, is a lack of discrimination in not knowing how properly to balance their time with work, rest, and play. Girls need to be taught how to relax. A camp girl said she found at college tired, overworked girls who did not know when they needed rest-not realizing that the mind and body, to keep healthy, must have complete quiet at times. "Some girls here," she says, "do not know the treasures in a long walk over hill and dale, along the brookside, through the woods, when all thoughts of lessons are left behind."

The camp girl is taught how to divide her time. Play has a large place in her programme, and it furnishes valuable educational training. Through play she learns some of the first principles of the fine art of livingadaptability, reliability, initiative, and good fellowship.

She also realizes the great value of restsometimes solitude-and its relation to work and play. Off in a pine wood, beside a mountain stream, in a canoe, along shore,

alone with nature or a companionable book, a camp girl can be happy for hours. "Invite your soul," is a familiar expression in a girls' camp.

And then the camp girl works! She goes in for things, and works for the sake of working. It may be organizing sports, or some unfinished craft work, or a part of the domestic work of the camp assigned to her. Sometimes she puts in an hour or two on lessons which have to be made up for school in the fall. With superb health, exuberance of spirits, and pleasant companionship, she gets joy out of working. And a definite part of each camp day is sacredly devoted to work.

Because she has learned the importance of accomplishing what she sets out to do and the advantage of team-work, the camp girl is depended on in college for the executive work in non-academic activities. It is said in one college that when a camp girl is made chairman of a committee that committee's work will be done well.

Camp life gives a girl also a good store of knowledge as a preparation for her academic work. She knows not only how to bandage a cut and right an overturned canoe, but also how to recognize the stars and appreciate the poetry of scenery. Contact with the real world of nature develops an interest in scientific explanations and theories.

Good health and a balanced mind bring many desirable qualities in their train-physical poise, toleration, friendliness, power of achievement, and that indefinable charm which is the glory of every woman with glowing health.