SOMETIMES SHE PADDLED IN THE LAKE 
But her nights were apt to be a bit restless after such experiences—another lesson in Mother- 
craft for thirty young girls. 
an incident during an eight weeks’ 
visit to a summer camp for girls that 
raised my hopes concerning the future 
of education for American young woman- 
hood. I will sketch, briefly, some of the 
things that I saw. Most of them 
centered in Janet. 
Janet scratched. She would double 
up her little fist into a taloned claw and, 
quick as a flash, it would shoot straight 
out for one’s nose or cheek and scratch 
with all its might. An impish, hard, 
unlovely look came over her sweet baby 
face when she did this thing and Hiiteni, 
the Camp Mother, wondered how the 
390 
Photograph by Mrs. Luther H. Gulick. 
(Fig. 2.) 
habit could be stopped, for in every 
other way Janet was the gentlest and 
happiest of infants. So Hiiteni watched 
for the first symptoms of that cat-like 
stroke, and when the fingers began to 
double into claws, she seized the little 
hand and drew it over to her face, plac- 
ing it against the cheek gently, drawing 
it downward softly and saying: ‘‘Nice, 
nice, nice.’”” In two or three days the 
old habit had been replaced by the new. 
Janet would look up rougishly, reach 
out toward nose or cheek again, but 
touch gently, softly with a downward 
love-stroke. Later she learned to say 
