ideas end with a ‘y,’ I suggest that we end that way.”

“Oh, Betty! I’m sure you don’t want us to end there when we’ve but just begun,” laughed Julie.

Betty was about to explain her meaning when Ruth interrupted. “Good gracious! Haven’t we had enough of dandelions in this horrid job without reminding us forever of the work by calling ourselves by that name?”

“Well, I was thinking how pretty the name would look if Verny prints it on a board sign and paints yellow dandelions all about the words,” explained Betty, in an apologetic tone.

“It would look nice,” added Joan, picking up a blossom and studying it carefully.

“You know dandelions really are lovely! And they smell sweet, too. But they grow so freely, everywhere, that folks think they are weeds. Now they’d be considered wonderful if they were hard to cultivate,” said Betty, seriously.

“I fail to see beauty in the old things!” scorned Ruth.

“You fail to see beauty in lots of things, Ruth, and that’s where you lose the best part of living,” said a sweet voice from the pathway that skirted the lawn.

“Oh, Verny! When did you get back?” cried three of the girls. Ruth turned away her face and curled her lips rebelliously.

“Oh, some time ago, but I went indoors to see if the banker had his money ready for my scouts,” replied Mrs. Vernon, paying no attention to Ruth’s attitude.

“We were just talking of a name, Verny, and Betsy said she thought the name of ‘Dandelion’ was so appropriate,” explained Joan.

“Betty thought a signboard with the name and a wreath of the flowers painted on it would be awfully sweet,” added Julie, eagerly.

“And I say ‘Toad-stool Camp’ with a lot of fungus plants painted about it would be more appropriate for this Troop’s name!” sneered Ruth, wheeling around to face Mrs. Vernon. “We’re sick of the sight of dandelions.”

Understanding Ruth’s shortcomings so well, the girls paid no attention to this remark, but Mrs. Vernon said: “I came out to see if you were almost through with to-day’s work.”

“Seems as if we were awfully slow this afternoon, Verny, but we’ll dig all the faster now for having you here to boss us,” said Julie.

“It’s all because I stopped them to talk about a name,” admitted Betty.

“Well, we were glad of the recess,” laughed Joan.

“Come, come, then—let’s make up for lost time!” called Julie, falling to with a zeal never before demonstrated by her.

The other girls turned and also began digging furiously, in order to complete the number of roots they were supposed to sell at one time. Not a word was spoken for a few moments, but Ruth groaned about her backache, and sat up every few seconds to look at her dirt-smeared fingernails. Mrs. Vernon had to hide a smile and when she could control her voice, said:

“I’ll be going back to Vernon’s Bank, girls, but as soon as you are ready to cash in for the roots, go to the side porch. Then wash up in the lavatory and meet me on the front verandah, where we’ll have something cool to drink for such warm laborers.”

“Um-m! I know what! You always do treat us the best!” cried Joan.

“With such an incentive before us, I shouldn’t wonder but we’ll be there before you are ready,” added Julie, smacking her lips.

Mrs. Vernon laughed, then walked back to the house, and the girls dug and dug, without wasting any more time to grumble or talk. Even Ruth forgot her annoyances in the anticipation of having something good to eat and a cooling drink the moment she was through with her hundred weeds.

As usual, Betty completed her task before any of her companions, and Ruth said querulously: “I don’t see how you ever do it! Here I’ve worked as hard as any one but I only have sixty roots.”

“I’ll help you finish up so’s we can get to the house,” Betty offered generously. And Ruth accepted her help without thinking to thank her.

“I know why Ruth always falls behind,” commented Joan. “Betty may be a ‘prude’ and a ‘preacher’ in Ruth’s eyes, but she sure does persist in anything. I haven’t heard her complain of, or shirk, a single thing since we began this Scout plan. Ruth sits and worries over everything before it happens, so she really makes her work hard from the moment she ever starts it.”

“That’s good logic, Joan,” returned Julie. “Besides all that, I have watched Betty work, and she seems to like it! Haven’t you ever noticed how fast and well you can do anything that you love to do?”

“You don’t suppose I love to root out dandelions, do you?” demanded Betty, laughingly.

“Not exactly, but you try to see all the good points in them and that makes you overlook the horrid things,” said Julie.

“Well, I wish Betty would show me the good points in a pan of potatoes,” said Joan. “I have to peel the ’taters every day, and I hate it! Many a time I have tried to fool myself into believing I like them—but I just can’t!”

The girls laughed heartily, and Julie added: “Next time you have to peel them, begin to sing or speak a piece—that works like magic, because it turns your thoughts to other things.”

“There now! Ruth’s hundred are ready, too!” said Betty, tossing the last few roots into the basket.

Mr. Vernon was paymaster, and always contrived to have bright new coins on hand with which to pay his laborers. To-day he counted out the correct wage for each girl, and then said:

“That lawn must be almost cleaned up, eh?”

“Oh, Mr. Vernon! It’s most discouraging!” cried Ruth.

“Yes—why?” asked Mr. Vernon, quizzically.

“Because we root out a place one day, and the next the young ones sprout up again.”

“That looks as if you girls may bankrupt me before this contract is completed, eh?” laughed he.

“Come, girls! Don’t waste your time in there with Uncle Verny when you might be sipping cool lemonade out here!” called Mrs. Vernon from the front of the house.

So the four girls hastily washed away all signs of earth from hands and faces, and joined their “Captain” on the verandah. Here they found waiting great wicker easy-chairs, and a table spread with goodies. In a few moments unpleasant work and dandelions were forgotten in the delectable pastime of eating fresh cake and drinking lemonade.

“What do you think of the name ‘Dandelion Troop,’ Verny?” asked Julie, when the first attack on the cake had subsided.

“I think it is most appropriate at present, but how will you feel about that name next year—or the next?”

“Now that’s what I say! We’ll grow so tired of it,” added Ruth.

“But we don’t think so!” argued Julie.

“Besides, we ought never to weary of the humble things that really start us in life. If dandelions mean our start to a real Scout Troop, we ought to be grateful and honor the weed,” giggled Joan.

Then an animated discussion followed between the girls for and against the name, but finally the champions of “Dandelion” came forth the victors, and thereafter they wished to be known as “The Dandelion Troop.”

“I suppose you girls know that we can’t organize a regular Patrol until we have eight or more girls,” said Mrs. Vernon, after the mimic christening of a dandelion with Betty as sponsor for the name took place.

“We know that, but you told us that the Handbook said we might be a club from any school or Y. W. C. A., and meet regularly until we had secured our needed number,” added Joan, anxiously.

“Yes, that is true, but I think we had better continue with our little club as we are now, and study the ways and laws of the Scouts, before we try to increase our number to eight. You see, you had already planned to earn money for camping this summer before the Girl Scout Drive began; then