numbers of teachers either own camps or assist in their management as
instructors.

One group, unmistakably the advance guard of a girls' camp, assembled at
the Grand Central Station on Wednesday. There were two alert, dignified
women, evidently the co-principals; a younger woman, who, at least so
the tired suburban shopper decided, was probably the athletic
instructor; two neat colored women, and a small girl of twelve, on
tiptoe with excitement, talking volubly about the fun she would have
when they got to the lake and when all the other girls arrived. Her
excited chatter also revealed the fact that father and mother had just
sailed for Europe, and, while she thought of them with regret, there was
only pleasure in prospect as she started northward. There was much
baggage to be attended to, and consultation over express and freight
bills, with interesting references to tents, canoes, and tennis nets.

Success is an excellent testimonial, and there is no longer any need to
point out the advantages of such camps for boys and girls. They fill a
real place for the delicate, the lazy, or the backward, who must needs
do extra work to keep up with their school grade, for those who
otherwise would be condemned to hotel life, or for the children whose
parents, because of circumstances, are compelled to spend the summer in
cities. Even the most jealously anxious of mothers are among the
converts to the movement. As one said the other day of her only son,
"Yes, David will go to Mr. D.'s camp again this summer. It will be his
third year. I thought the first time that I simply could not part with
him. I pictured him drowned or ill from poor food or severe colds.
Indeed, there wasn't a single terror I didn't imagine. But he enjoyed it
so, and came home so well and happy, that I've never worried since."