d only see the funny side."

"Yes, it's too bad," agreed Agony. "The more she resents it the more the
girls will tease her about it."

"I'm sorry for her," continued Mary. "She's never had any experience
being a councilor and it's all new to her. She's never been teased
before. She'll soon see that it happens to everybody else, too, and then
she'll feel differently about it. Look at the way everybody makes fun of
Tiny Armstrong's blanket, and her red bathing suit, and her gaudy
stockings; but she never gets cross about it. Tiny's a wonder," she
added enthusiastically. "Did you see her demonstrating the Australian
Crawl yesterday in swimming hour? She has a stroke like the propeller of
a boat. I never saw anything so powerful."

"If Tiny ever assaulted anyone in earnest there wouldn't be anything
left of them," said Agony. "She's a regular Amazon. They ought to call
her Hypolita instead of Tiny."

"And yet, she's just as gentle as she is powerful," replied Mary. "She
wouldn't hurt a fly if she could help it. Neither would she do anything
mean to anybody, or show partiality in the swimming tests. She's
absolutely fair and square; that's why all the girls accept her
decisions without a complaint, even when they're disappointed. Everybody
says she is the best swimming teacher they've ever had here at camp.
Once they had an instructor who had a special liking for a certain girl
who couldn't manage to learn to swim, and because that girl was wild to
go in a canoe on one of the trips the instructor pretended that she had
given her an individual test on the afternoon before the trip, and told
Mrs. Grayson the girl had passed it. The girl was allowed to go in a
canoe and on the trip it upset and she was very nearly drowned before
the others realized that she could not swim. Tiny isn't like that," she
continued. "She would lose her best friend rather than tell a lie to get
her a favor that she didn't deserve. I hate cheats!" she burst out
vehemently, her fine eyes flashing. "If girls can't win honors fairly
they ought to go without them."

This random conversation upon one and another of the phases of camp
life, illustrating as it did Mary's rigid code of honor, was destined to
recur many times to Agony in the weeks that followed, with a poignant
force that etched every one of Mary's speeches ineradicably upon her
brain. Just now it was nothing more to her than small talk to which she
replied in kind.

They stopped after a