Title:  The Camp Fire Girls on the Farm Or, Bessie King’s New Chum

Author:  Jane L. Stewart

Release Date:  April 28, 2005 [EBook #15726]

Language:  English

Character set encoding:  ASCII

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[Illustration:  She turned—­and looked up into the evil eyes of Farmer Weeks.]

CAMP FIRE GIRLS SERIES, VOLUME II

The Camp Fire Girls On the Farm

or

Bessie King’s New Chum

by

JANE L. STEWART

* * * * *

The SAALFIELD publishing company
Chicago Akron, Ohio New York
made in U.S.A.

Copyright, MCMXIV
by
the SAALFIELD publishing Co.

* * * * *

The Camp Fire Girls On the Farm

CHAPTER I

IN THE CITY

“I never dreamed of such a lovely room, Zara, did you?”

Bessie King, her eyes open with admiration and wonder, asked her chum the question in a room in the home of Eleanor Mercer, Guardian of the Manasquan Camp Fire, of the Camp Fire Girls.  Both the girls were new members of the organization, and Bessie, who had lived all her life in the country, and had known nothing of the luxuries and comforts that girls in the city, or the luckier ones of them, at least, take almost as a matter of course, had found something new to astonish her in almost every hour since they had come to the city.

“I’ve dreamed of it—­yes,” said Zara.  “You see I’ve been in the city before, Bessie; and I’ve seen houses like this, and I’ve guessed that the rooms inside must be something like this, though I never lived in one.  It’s beautiful.”

“I almost wish we were going to stay here, Zara.  But I suppose it will be nice when we go to the farm.”

Eleanor Mercer, who had been standing for a moment in the doorway, came in then, laughing merrily.  She had overheard the remark, and Bessie was greatly distressed when she discovered it.

“Oh, Miss Eleanor!” she exclaimed.  “Please, please don’t think I’m ungrateful.  I want to do whatever you think is right—­”

“I know that, Bessie, and I know just what you were thinking, too.  Well, you’re going to have a surprise—­I can promise you that.  This farm isn’t a bit like the farm you know about.  I guess you know too much about one sort of farm to want ever to see another, don’t you?”

“Maybe there are different sorts of farms,” admitted Bessie.  “I don’t like Paw Hoover’s kind.”