whole, she passed very
easily for seventeen or eighteen.

But as the days went by, she found her life singularly monotonous. The
proprietress paid the girls small salaries, expecting them to live on
tips. But Frieda Hammer received very few tips, for she was not a very
successful waitress. The regular patrons avoided her table, and the
newcomers were usually displeased with her service, and tipped her
grudgingly, or not at all.

Then, during the Thanksgiving holidays, she saw Marjorie and Lily, and a
great longing to go back seized her, a desire to study more, and to
accept the friendship these Girl Scouts so generously offered. But she
thought of the canoe and the money she had stolen, and, overcome with
shame, she disappeared into the kitchen to prevent the girls from
recognizing her.

About the middle of December she lost her situation, and was forced to
seek another, without even a reference. Christmas, which on the farm had
meant little except what Mrs. Brubaker had done for her family, took on
a new significance as she watched the shops and the decorations, and
preparations everywhere. In her imagination she saw the Christmas the
Girl Scouts would have, and thought of Mrs. Johnson; and in her heart
she was homesick for what might have been.

She secured a temporary position as wrapper in a department store, with
the understanding that she would be dropped after Christmas.

She spent Christmas day alone in her room--a small, bare attic, for she
could no longer afford the comforts of a boarding house. She would have
liked to go to the movies, but with no prospect of work, and not any too
much money on hand, she dared not risk the expense.

All during the following week she looked for work, but could find none;
for everywhere places were discharging, instead of taking on, girls.

And then the new year brought her the letter from Marjorie!

Marjorie had pictured Frieda now as a sullen, successful, working-girl,
ready to scorn any advances on her part. She dreaded lest the girl would
tear up the letter before she read it. But she never thought of her
hugging and kissing it, as a veritable bond between her and the rest of
mankind.

Frieda read the letter over and over, gradually developing a plan. She
would go back to Trenton, get work if possible, and save to buy back the
canoe. Then, when it was paid for, and she had enough money, she would
paddle back to Miss Allen's, return the fifteen dollars and beg the