The Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER V Armistice Day in Paris

  It was shortly before eleven o'clock on the morning of November eleventhwhen the bells of Paris began pealing.

  The following instant a group of young American girls who had been seatedabout a tiny fire in a large, bare room, jumped hurriedly to their feet.

  "It has come at last, the Germans have signed the armistice! _Vive lapaix!_" one of them exclaimed.

  Her words were almost drowned in the noise of the firing of guns, thethunder of cannon, noises to which Paris had been listening for the pastfour years in bitterness, but which she now heard with rejoicing.

  "Let us start out at once, Aunt Patricia, to take part in the celebrationbefore the streets become too crowded," Peggy Webster suggested. "Whatluck to be in Paris today! I should rather be here than in any city inthe world at the present time, for surely the city which has sufferedmost through the war must rejoice most!"

  As she finished speaking, Peggy walked over to a window and flung itopen. Already they could hear the sounds of cheering. Below Peggy couldsee people running into the street, windows of other houses being thrownopen. Voices were calling, vive, vive everything, except, "_la guerre_."

  "Isn't it a pity Tante is not with us? We shall miss her more than evertoday," Bettina added. "Yet I am glad she is not too ill to feel thedeepest thankfulness even if she cannot take part in the celebration andwe may manage to see her later this afternoon. Aunt Patricia, do you feelequal to going with us? The crowds may make you overtired. Don't worry,we promise to be as careful as possible, but do let us hurry. I feel asif I could scarcely bear the four walls of a house ten minutes longer. Iwant to shout, weep, laugh over victory. Glorious France, how much shehas suffered and how much she has won!"

  "Nevertheless, Bettina Graham, there is no reason to talk in such ahigh-flown fashion," Miss Patricia Lord returned, "as if you were makinga speech on one of the boulevards. I think we had better be saying ourprayers. Just the same please be quiet a moment while I try to think; thenoise outside is sufficient without your increasing it. I am afraid itwill not be safe for you Camp Fire girls to go out into the streets forat least another twenty-four hours. But most certainly I shall go,however, I will return as promptly as possible to let you know what Ihave seen."

  At this instant Miss Patricia removed the large horned spectacles,through which she had been reading the morning paper, and wiped themoisture from them carefully. She then wiped her eyes, but entirelyunconscious of what she was doing.

  Nevertheless, she may have remained unaware of the expressions upon thefaces of the half dozen girls who were her present companions.

  At this moment an arm encircled her waist.

  "Really, truly, Aunt Patricia, you don't think we can stay indoors whenall the rest of Paris is rejoicing? You wouldn't be so cruel as to ask itof us, you who have preached courage in the time of war, would not haveus turn cowards with the approach of peace?"

  And Mary Gilchrist looked imploringly into Miss Patricia's fine eyes,wise enough not to appear to notice their unusual moisture.

  "You come with us, Aunt Patricia, and I think we shall manage to keeptogether and not to lose either our heads or our way. Remember we made asafe retreat to Paris when the Huns believed they were soon to followafter us and take possession of the city."

  As Mary Gilchrist had just announced, it was true that a number of monthsbefore, after an arduous retreat, first from their farmhouse on the Aisneand later from the Chateau Yvonne, the Camp Fire girls and theirguardians had arrived safely in Paris. During the following summer monthsthey had lived in a French pension not far from the Place de la Concorde,while the long range German guns vainly endeavored to frighten the citywith a sense of her impending doom.

  At present neither Mrs. Burton nor Sally Ashton was with their Camp Firegroup in the pension. Soon after their arrival, not having recoveredsufficiently from her wound to endure the long strain and fatigue of theretreat, Mrs. Burton had again been seriously ill. By her surgeon'sadvice she had been removed to a hospital nearby, where she had been forthe past few months, and although by this time a great deal better, shehad not yet rejoined her friends.

  Sally Ashton, without appearing to be actually ill and indeed alwaysdenying every suggestion of illness, had never from the day of theretreat from the farmhouse been like her former self. Six weeks before,influenced more by Miss Patricia's wish than the doctor's orders, she haddeparted for rest and quiet to a little house in the country a few hoursjourney from town.

  At this moment, following Mary Gilchrist's words, the Camp Fire girlsformed an imploring circle about their chaperon, Miss Patricia Lord, who,in Mrs. Burton's absence, had no one to dispute her authority.

  Never to appear actually to oppose Miss Patricia, the girls had learnedto be the better part of wisdom, therefore the present moment was fraughtwith danger. To disobey Miss Patricia's wish, which might at any momentbe translated into a command, would be disagreeable and perchancesucceeded by uncomfortable consequences. However, not to see Paris in hercarnival of joy and to share in the celebration was not to be considered.

  And in all probability Miss Patricia had always appreciated this fact.

  "Oh, very well," she conceded with unexpected suddenness, "and do getready as soon as possible. I have only to put on my bonnet. In truth Ihave been prepared for this moment ever since our arrival in France. HaveI not always insisted that victory was always a mere question of time!"

  A few moments later the throngs in the streets of Paris were increased bythe presence of the half dozen American Camp Fire girls and Miss Lord.

  Perhaps not much more than a half an hour had passed since theannouncement of the signing of the armistice and yet already a multitudehad appeared out of doors. Paris was happy and expressing her happinessas only Paris can.

  The air was filled with cheers, with snatches of songs, not so frequentthe "Marseillaise," as "Madelon," the song of the poilus, since it wasthe French soldier who had brought victory to glorious France.

  Through the crowds Miss Patricia engineered the way, Yvonne Fleuryclinging to one arm, Mary Gilchrist to the other, while behind themfollowed Vera Lagerloff and Alice Ashton and next came Bettina Graham andPeggy Webster.

  As the crowd in their neighborhood was moving toward the Place de laConcorde there was no choice but to move with it.

  In the Place de la Concorde, filled with statues commemorative of Frenchhistory, the girls observed a vast mass of waving flags. Here all thetrophies of war had been placed. Soldiers and young girls were climbingon the big guns, shouting, laughing, kissing one another.

  Save for Miss Patricia's leadership the Camp Fire girls would never havemoved on with so little difficulty. Like a happy grenadier she marchedwith her head up and her old eyes flashing. France had no greater admirerthan the elderly American spinster.

  A French soldier, leaning over to kiss Mary Gilchrist, who was gazingupward and unconscious of him, found Miss Patricia's hand suddenlyinterposed between his lips and Mary's face. Being a Frenchman, he hadthe grace gallantly to kiss Miss Patricia's hand and then to march offlaughing at the joke on himself.

  Finally the little group of Americans found themselves in a temporaryshelter near the statue of Alsace-Lorraine in the Place de la Concorde.From the close of the Franco-Prussian war this statue of an heroic figureof a woman, representing the lost provinces, had been draped in mourning.Today the mourning had been torn away and the statue smothered inflowers.

  It chanced that Bettina Graham and Peggy Webster were crowded closeagainst the railing surrounding the statue.

  "Peggy," Bettina whispered, "I want to add my little tribute to France'svictory after forty years of waiting for the return of her provinces. Ihave nothing to offer but this little bunch of violets I have beenwearing all morning. And certainly they are a faded tribute! Still thereis no chance of getting any other flowers today."

  "Oh, never mind, it is the sentiment after al
l, isn't it, Bettina? Thetribute is no tinier than the effort we Camp Fire girls have been makingin the last year to help France. It is simply that we have given all wehad to give," Peggy returned.

  While she was speaking, Bettina had unfastened a large bunch of Romanviolets, which she was wearing at her waist, and was leaning over therailing trying to find a place for her small bouquet. At the same instanta hand, holding an enormous bunch of red and white roses encircled withdeep blue forget-me-nots, was thrust above her head.

  Flushing at the contrast, Bettina hurriedly dropped her violets andglanced upward.

  Behind her was a young man, evidently an American, although not asoldier, as he was not wearing a uniform.

  "I beg your pardon, I hope I have not interfered with you," an Americanvoice apologized.

  But before Bettina was able to do more than shake her head, there was anunexpected movement in the crowd and she and Peggy were again pushedonward.

  A few feet ahead Miss Patricia was looking back and signaling. They couldsee that a girl had been lifted on the shoulders of two soldiers. Thecrowd was now following them.

  When the girl began singing, the crowd became quieter. Her voice wasclear and beautiful; she was singing the "Marseillaise," then snatches ofAllied songs.

  Evidently the girl, whom the soldiers were bearing along in triumph, wassome celebrated artist, who was giving the best she had to give to thepeople as her tribute to France. And the crowd now and then sang withher, whatever words of whatever national song they knew.

  Finally toward dusk, the Camp Fire girls and Miss Patricia foundthemselves returning to the neighborhood of their pension. Lights werebeginning to shine along the boulevards, when Paris until tonight hadbeen in darkness for nearly four long years.

  At a street corner where the crowd had thinned, Miss Patricia waited withYvonne and Myra until the other four girls had caught up with them.

  "You girls, can make your way home from here alone, can't you?" sheinquired. "I really must see Polly Burton before this day is past. I mustsay a few words to her else I shall never feel the day's celebration hassatisfied me."

  "Of course, Aunt Patricia, but since we all feel exactly as you do, whynot let us go with you?" Peggy answered.

  Soon after the Camp Fire girls and Miss Lord found Mrs. Burton seated bya window in her hospital bedroom, holding a little book in her hand and,except that she was pale from the excitement of the day, lookingextraordinarily well.

  "Oh, I never, never, never have been so glad to see people before!" shecried, jumping up and embracing Miss Patricia. "If you only knew what ithas meant to stay here in a hospital with my nose glued against thewindow pane, when all the world is going mad with joy, you would be trulysorry for me. I think I should have tried to make my escape, if my doctorhad not telephoned me I was not to think of going out for a moment. Isuppose, Aunt Patricia, you managed to telephone him this instructionlast night because you imagined the armistice would be signed today. Butplease everybody tell me at once just what you have seen and done."

  A quarter of an hour later, when the Camp Fire girls had grown silentthrough sheer fatigue, Miss Patricia said with unusual gentleness:

  "Well, Polly, I am sorry you could not be with us today, although I didtell the doctor that he was not to allow you to go out for a moment underany circumstances. What have you been doing with your time?"

  Mrs. Burton held up her book.

  "Perhaps you could never guess! I have been reading a one-act play byFrance's great Premier, Clemenceau. Did you know the old warriorstatesman was a poet as well? His play is called 'Le Voile du Bonheur,''The Veil of Happiness.' It is the story of an old blind Chinese poet whois happy in the love of his wife and son and the devotion of his friends.I wish I knew French sufficiently well to be able to act in it. One daythe old poet's poems are recognized by his Emperor and he is told he mayhave any gift. He asks for the release of a friend who is a prisoner.Then the old man falls asleep and in his sleep his sight is restored. Hewakens to find the friend he has released from prison trying to rob him,his wife loving some one else and his son mocking at his affliction. Andin the end the poet prays to have his blindness restored that he mayreturn to happiness. It is a melancholy little play. I have been hopingall day the world may never wish to be blind again."

  Getting up Mrs. Burton began walking up and down her little room, and amoment later, coming up behind Miss Patricia, suddenly put both hands onthe older woman's shoulders, resting her cheek on her hair.

  "Aunt Patricia, none of us can leave France now the armistice is signeduntil peace is declared. Surely all of you feel as I do; we who have seenFrance in her suffering must remain here during her great release. Ipresume the peace commission will hold its sessions in Paris; no othercity is apt to be chosen."

  Miss Patricia nodded.

  "For once in my life, Polly my dear, I agree with you. Indeed ever sincethere has been a possibility of an armistice I have been thinking overwhat you have just said! We may be making a mistake, nevertheless, I amreasonably sure that Paris will be chosen as the place of meeting for thePeace delegates. Under the circumstances I have just rented a furnishedhouse in Versailles for the next six months. Paris will soon grow toocrowded to contain unnecessary women. Moreover, Versailles is near enoughto Paris for us to enjoy whatever takes place here and will also bebetter for our health and our nerves."