So the day Aunt Susan came, everyone was on the qui vive, and a warmer welcome was never extended to an old lady. She was shown everything. She had a real Camp Fire dinner and enjoyed it.

She took Mattie one side and told her of the wonderful improvement in little Mollie, which made Mattie's heart beat high with joy.

When she was introduced to Honora the girl made such quaint remarks that
Aunt Susan laughed merrily.

"Isn't it funny?" said Ethel; "that's the only girl in Camp that I don't care for."

"Ethel," replied her aunt, "perhaps, you don't know her as she really is."

"Perhaps," responded Ethel slowly, thinking of Mattie.

The evening that Aunt Susan stayed, Ethel was advanced from a Wood Gatherer to a Fire Maker. She stood up in her ceremonial dress with her pretty hair hanging, and bound with a band of beads called her "ceremonial band," and she repeated the Fire Maker's song.

New honors were awarded. They had songs and toasts, one of which was
"Aunt Susan," after which the girls repeated in unison:

"Burn, fire, burn; flicker, flicker, flame, etc."

Then, extinguishing the fire, they retired for the night.

The next morning the Camp broke up. Ethel bade them all an affectionate farewell. She even kissed Honora. There seemed to be a spirit of good will among all of the girls.

"Be sure and come back next summer, Ethel," was heard on every side.

And Mattie, taking her apart from the rest, said:

"You have saved me from a fate worse than death. I was going the downward path, and you and Patty lifted me out of the mud. I shall pray for you every night. Don't forget me."

"No, I shall not," replied Ethel, kissing her affectionately, "and you promise to go and see little Mollie and write me all about her, won't you?"