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COMACINA GIVEN BY KING ALBERT TO ARTISTS This picturesque-little island in Lake Como, northern Italy, was celebrated in Roman times and during the Middle Ages. It has latterly been in private hands, and was last year bequeathed by its owner, Signor Caprini, to King Albert as a tribute to the gallantry of Belgium during the World War. King Albert in his turn has bequeathed it to Italy, on condition that it is to be used as a home for writers, artists, and musicians. The picture was taken from an airplane

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To patch the hole and darn the rift."

THE Girl Scouts is a National organization whose chief aim is to develop a better womanhood throughout the United States, its Territories and colonies. It now numbers 82,176 girls of from ten to eighteen years of age. This represents an increase of forty-five per cent in one year. It cannot train leaders fast enough to keep up with the demand.

The Scout activities are designed to bring to girls the opportunity for an all-around life indoors, out of doors, at home, and in the community.

By the Scout games and ceremonies, the uniform and symbolic badges, the Girl Scouts are encouraged and rewarded for proficiency in home-making, cooking, and first aid-woman's most elementary service to the world, which is usually taken for granted and ignored, and more often made mere drudgery.

Woman is a producer, a consumer, and a citizen, and the Girl Scouts are trained toward these ends. They learn to co-operate in their work and in their play, and it is their pride to remember the Girl Scout motto, "Be prepared," and the slogan, "Do a good turn daily."

The Girl Scouts deserve to have the hearty support of the country in their appeal for the sum of $1,033,400 for which they are asking from November 6 to 15.

This is only the second time since their founding in 1912 that they have made a general appeal for funds. The rapid growth of the organization-over forty-five per cent in a single year—and a membership of 86,176 girls and troops in all but one of the forty-eight States necessitate a development of machinery to care for them. Every month girls who want to become Scouts are turned away because of the lack of leaders for them.

To find, enlist, and give guidance to volunteer leaders is the largest problem the largest problem of the Girl Scout organization. Yet it is encouraging in these days, when the world gets so little, of service even, for nothing, that there should be so large a proportion of volunteer to paid workers. in this Nation-wide organization for girls. There are over 7,200 women

who are volunteer leaders of Girl Scout Troops and only 211 paid workers in the entire service throughout the country.

There need be no argument for the Girl Scouts. The country knows and believes in them and will certainly support them heartily in their appeal for funds.

For this organization is developing a type of girl who will make the best sort of mother, sister, sweetheart, and

friend of the future. Through play Girl Scouts receive a training of hand and heart that will make them "citizens of no mean city."

They are asking the men of the country to become "Girl Scout Daddies" by the payment of $15 each. Is there a single son of Uncle Sam who can resist this telling appeal? We hope the Girl Scout Campaign for adult sustaining members will go over the top so strong

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She camps and hikes' the whole day long."

that not a single Girl Scout in 1921 will be without a Captain or be turned away from camp.

The membership campaign is being run without professional services; therefore the Girl Scouts are counting on the generosity of the public to help them bring scouting to all girls in the United States.

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Here are the figures for those pros pective pective "daddies who are keen on such things:

WHY THE GIRL SCOUTS NEED $1,033,400 For a new building

The Girl Scouts are crowded in rented quarters entirely inadequate to meet the needs of the thousands of girls anxious to become Scouts, but who are now of necessity turned away. There are 6,000 Girl Scouts in New York City alone. For the Scout budgets in 159 cities and townsThere are large Girl Scout organizations in these centers which are largely selfsupporting.

It is hoped that the local organizations will raise this fund themselves.

For overhead

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$150,000

500,000

- - 172,400

84,000

77,000

50,000 - $1,033,400

Make checks payable to National Headquarters, Girl Scouts, Inc., 189 Lexington Avenue, New York City.

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MAC

THE STORY

OF

A DOG OF HONOR

BY

TRAVERS D. CARMAN

H

E was a wee, small pup when he arrived in his erate, a gift from the State Comptroller of New Jersey. As he was lifted-out by the scruff of his neck he landed squarely on all four stocky legs, barked once in open defiance of all the world, and then, in recognition of the outstretched hand that brought him a message of masterly love, his tongue did penance for the hostile greeting of a moment before, and Mac, an English setter puppy, had found his lifelong master.

PUPPY DAYS

His puppyhood was not unlike that of many other dogs-distended belly and all was well in a world of contentment and sunshine; an empty stomach and a land of darkness and gloom. And yet there was throughout even his early youth this distinguishing characteristic of a dog of pedigree-loyalty and real love for his master alone, tolerance of those his master loved, and calm indifference to all others.

Born in April, the following fall he was taken out in company with a seasoned dog and made his first point, in all awkwardness to be sure, when trembling legs knew not how to behave, and

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tail was limply outstretched in uncertain arch-but a point nevertheless, and stanchly held while the old dog, in rare condescension, ranged up in silent contempt and "backed" with hauteur the lucky pup who on the birds." As the quail whirred away his master shot with deliberate and particular care, that he might kill a quail with his first shot and thereafter identify the report of a gun in the puppy's mind with the amazing delight of the scent of a dead quail held near his nose.

Since his master at that time lived a comparatively lonely life in the country, the puppy was permitted to sleep in the house, and thus became his master's constant companion when at home. His master, the editor of a horticultural and farm paper, was forever fussing with plants, vegetables, grains, and flowers, marking some with different colored strings, tying others carefully up in paper bags, in fact doing many amazing things that puzzled the puppy as he sat and watched him with quizzical glance and head cocked inquiringly on one side. But it was his master who did it, and so it must be right-his master who, night after night, snuggled him up in

his arms in front of the sputtering logs and caused those delightful sensations behind his ears.

The days followed in such rapid succession that no puppy could keep track of them-each with some thrilling experience, often a catastrophe; a daily lesson from the master full of new puzzling words and commands which slowly separated in his mind to become associated with things he was to do. To come in at the sound of a certain whistle was the first lesson learned; to charge and heel were soon mastered. But there were other com mands less easily understood and most bewildering. When running ahead of his master, he could not remember what he was to do when a hand was waved to one side or the other or directly overhead. He did not see why, when he had run and caught a ball, he should bring it back to his master, who had just thrown it away. But he tried his utmost, and gradually the meaning of all things became clear.

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THE WAYS OF THE TRANSGRESSOR ARE HARD"

His master kept a prize flock of Indian Game chickens, and in jealous

charge of the hens strutted with pride the Indian Game cock; ever watchful of he approach of danger, with massive readth of chest, a cruelly efficient bill, und spurs as sharp as a needle-point. The puppy with playful longing had often watched them through the picket ence and barked for the joy of seeing hem scatter with discordant cackling nd utter confusion. And then had ome the day when, to his delight, he had discovered an opening under one of the bottom boards of the chickenun and through it he squeezed. As he hens fluttered out of his way with squawks of alarm, the puppy prang at the one nearest, to grab only mouthful of feathers and to be feroiously attacked the next minute by the Indian Game cock, who came valiantly o the rescue. In the act of jumping ver the puppy the cock struck him with one of his spurs and sent him eeling. As he struggled to his feet he vas again laid low, and as often as he ttempted to rise he met a similar fate, ntil, in panic and acute distress, be meared with blood and dirt, he found t last his exit, and sought the comfort f the cold earth under the hydrangea pushes, to repent at leisure for his misLeeds and lick his wounds, a sadder ut wiser dog. He had learned two hings of value to the hunting dog: irst, to leave chickens alone; and, secud, not to chase a feathered creature luttering however temptingly ahead of im.

It seemed that the gardener had been n amused spectator of the tragic comdy and reported it to Mac's master pon his return from the city that ight, who smiled with keen appreciaion at the lesson the puppy had so ffectively though painfully learned.

But his evil genius was not yet conent, for upon the following day, hrough the carelessness of the houseseeper, he absent-mindedly wandered nto the pantry, where the smell of wookies proved irresistible. Cautiously aising himself up on his hind legs, he rought his fore paws down on what he upposed to be the edge of the lower helf of the pantry, only to turn loose pon his unsuspecting head the wrath of he pantry gods in the shape of the contents of a huge pan of curdled milk, which covered him from the tip of his ose to the end of his tail. Then, too, he pan set in motion some particularly ticky sheets of fly-paper, which sailed lown in time to make connection with is hind feet. Tragedy begets tragedy n puppydom, and the stage was well set for the villain. Shocked by his sudden nilk bath, with increasing terror becloudng his sanity, spurred on by the flapping of the fly-paper on his feet, in a mad retreat of panic he started for the kitchen door and came in violent contact with a leg of the intervening table, which promptly reared up, tottered in its mild protest, and fell on its side, taking with

it to the floor jar after jar of recently made jelly. Goaded on afresh by the new catastrophe, that inflicted all of the nerve shock of shells bursting over the trenches, he dashed wildly through the closed kitchen screen door, taking most of the screen with him. His dirt wallow under the hydrangea bushes soothed in time his injured pride and screenscratched nose, and the lesson of keep ing out of the kitchen was wisely remembered without further experiment.

HIS SECOND CAMPAIGN

The bite of the air in the morning brought to him the memories of the year previous. With puppy ways forever cast aside, broad of forehead and of chest, and intelligent of eye, he watched with growing impatience for some sign from his master that the hunting season had come.

He had been dozing by the fire one evening after a particularly generous supper that the housekeeper, due to special orders, had begrudgingly given him, when he awoke with a start to find his master gone. The door leading into his master's room was open, with a light shining brightly out into the hall as his guide, and there he found his master and the joyous news that he had so impatiently awaited. The master was overhauling his hunting clothes, cartridge vest, boots, and quail gun, and around all still clung that most wonderful of smells, the quail scent. With a low whine and with love and pleading in his eyes, he crawled to his master's feet and, trembling from head to foot, raised a paw in supplication. A pat, a low word of hunting command, the well-imitated rallying call of quail when scattered, such was his greeting from his master; and, responding with a wild, joyous bark of delirious anticipation, Mac knew that the following dawn would usher in another hunting season.

All night long he lay by his master's bedside, shaking in his excitement, incapable of sleep, but too well trained to stir until his master awoke at dawn.

The next day Mac won his commission as a hunting dog. A lazy sun discovered him and his master well on their way to the nearest buckwheat stubble, the frost outlining in silver the delicate tracery of the grass and woods. The solemn dropping of an occasional leaf as it haltingly dipped to earth from near-by trees, the flutter of small birds along the roadside hedge, the smell of the fall in the air, and the brilliant contrasts in changing foliage-all attested the ideal hunting day.

The buckwheat field soon reached, the dog was ordered on, and with superb restraint he held a steady pace as he quartered right and left in glad response to the wave of his master's hand. At the end of fifteen minutes, the field thoroughly covered and no birds found, he returned to his master for further orders. The dog was motioned to heel,

and they two, in perfect understanding, with love and respect each for the other, struck out for a cornfield near by. And so the day was spent in silent reverence for God's own out-of-doors, and with due regard for nature's need of game conservation. A bird was shot here and there and proudly retrieved by the young setter; luncheon was shared by them both beside a sparkling spring where purple asters and goldenrod proudly stood sentinel, then upon the return in the afterglow the memories of the day were treasured by dog and

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master.

AN UNUSUAL NOSE

Rarely has a dog possessed the nose or bird sense that Mac developed in his second season. Hunting up wind or down, he never flushed birds, stopping often so suddenly when he came unexpectedly upon a covey of quail that he would, with back hunched and all four feet braced, slide to a sudden stop.

Perhaps the incident for which he was most justly famous occurred in his third hunting season. He had found a covey of quail; his master and a friend with him had each shot a bird as they rose, and the party moved on to hunt for single birds. At the edge of a young growth of birch Mac pointed, a single quail flushed, and was shot by his master's companion, falling well inside the thicket. Mac was ordered to retrieve the dead bird, was plainly heard working into the cover, and then suddenly vanished and all was quiet. As Mac failed to return and ignored his master's whistle, the gunners.started into the thicket in the direction the bird was seen to fall. One hundred yards ahead, Mac was found with the dead quail carefully held in his mouth and pointing another bird! As the hunters moved up the quail flushed and was shot by his master. Here then was a problem for Mac. Should he first retrieve the bird in his mouth, or attempt to retrieve them both at the same time? He decided in favor of the latter, and proudly returned holding each bird by a wing for fear of doing them injury by careless mouthing.

A SIGNIFICANT LESSON

In the instance of one man, a neverto-be-forgotten lesson was taught him by Mac. A thorough gentleman in all other ways, when on the hunting field he invariably claimed all birds at which he shot. Mac's master knew through mutual friends of this yellow streak, and I think purposely invited him to hunt, anticipating the lesson that Mac, through his loyalty, might silently administer.

Not till well on in the forenoon were quail found. Hidden behind an old log on a southern exposure at the edge of a swale were the birds, and Mac was in the act of jumping over the log when he caught the scent. Clutching

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